defenderofdesmoines | The Chapel at Vought Tower, and Then Beyond

There were stranger places to be, Starlight supposed, than onstage at a funeral for a colleague that you barely knew, wearing a skimpy bodysuit and preparing to belt out a truly sort of terrible song.

But this was one of the weirdest situations she'd found herself in, in a whole series of weird situations.

Homelander	"Today," Homelander opened solemnly from the podium where he was addressing the crowd, "I can assure the American people that Black Noir has conducted an operation, killing the Super Terrorist known as Naqib." He paused for applause. "But that doesn't mean," he added, just the slightest bit unsteady (because Homelander was a great actor), "that sacrifices won't still be made. The proof of that, sadly, lies before us." He looked over at the glass coffin, with nothing in it, and then away quickly. "For today, we mourn a fallen member of The Seven. Translucent. Murdered, in cold blood, by the cartel Super Terrorist El Diablo. Before he left, Translucent said to me -- almost as if he knew something was going to happen, he said, 'Hey, Homelander. Tell my son Maverick that I love him.' And he also said, 'You find those Super Terrorists --'" Homelander interrupted himself, pausing. "Well, Super Villains is really the only term, but, anyway, he said, 'You find them, Homelander. And you stop them. And so I say to you, Maverick, and to all the sons and daughters of this great nation -- I will stop them." He cleared his throat, as though he were tearing up. "I will save you. I'll do it for you." He clasped a hand to his heart. "For America." Homelander bowed his head, resting his hand on Translucent's casket, as melancholy piano notes started up.
Starlight	And that was -- very literally -- Starlight's cue. Her spotlight hit her as she looked down in solemnity, clutching her microphone. "We're defended by our heroes, you stood among the best," she began, voice clear and vibratto strong. "Protecting us from evil, you rose above the rest." She moved across the stage, as her blocking directed, and began addressing the casket. "And though we could see through you, it seems we hardly knew you, we confess." And, like, this is where this started feeling a little weird for a funeral, because Starlight belted her next line, as she'd been directed in rehearsal. "Thanks to what you've done, we've all been blessed." She looked to Homelander as she continued, "But our heroes never die, Your spirit fills the sky Your presence truly blessed us from the start, And you'll never truly vanish from our hearts." God, this song was awful.
Homelander	She got through it, though. Homelander took Starlight's hand as they exited the chapel, ignoring the immediate smell of her sweat and the way he could hear her heartbeat accelerate. They needed to be a united front. They met the throng of reporters and fans, and Homelander only let go of her hand to go over and hug a fan, clapping him on a back with an, "I miss him, too, man."
Starlight	"Thank you so much," Starlight told the crowd, clutching her hands to her chest the way Ashley had told her to. She just had to get through this part, too. And then she had a meeting to get to. With, you know, the guy who actually killed Translucent. When Starlight had bid Homelander goodbye (with what she hoped was a convincing explanation of a headache; the headache was real, but she wasn't going to get to go lie down like she wanted to), she ducked into her apartment and fairly immediately began stripping. The silicone pads that pushed her breasts up were thrown out first, even before Annie took a seat to pull her boots off, and within a few minutes, Starlight was no more.
Annie	Instead, a hooded, slim figure made her way down out of Vought Tower, down the street, past a building-length advertisement for Citizen Starlight, and into the subway.
Hughie	And there was a different, slender hooded figure seated on a subway bench, staring down at his hands until Annie sat down next to him. "Did anyone follow you?" Hughie hadn't slept in several days, and it showed. He was also living in a pawn shop basement, and that might have...shown, too. Ever since Butcher had apparently murdered Madelyn Stillwell, they'd had to go underground, and it was not good for him.
Annie	"No," Annie reassured him immediately, taking a seat. "No one followed me." She pulled the burner phone he'd sent to her out of her hoodie pocket to show him. "And just this. And they can't find my chip down here." So relax, Hughie.
Hughie	Hughie...almost relaxed. Almost. He at least looked less like he wanted to throw himself out of the moving subway. "You look good," he said instead. "How's A-Train?"
Annie	"Hasn't woken up yet." Annie looked down at her hands for a moment, then over at Hughie, and decided not to mince words. "I was going to try to say something nice, but I'm sorry, I can't. You look like shit."
Hughie	Hughie snorted a little laugh, busying himself by reaching into his backpack. "Well, thanks. I've been getting all my vitamins and lots of good sleep." He pulled out a folder, hanging onto it for a second. "Are you sure --"
Annie	"Give me it," Annie replied testily, holding out her hand. "What, not as much fun if I'm actually on board with being used?" She was still pissed, yes.
Hughie	"No, that's not -- " Hughie knew he didn't really have a great defense there, so he just let that stumbling little comment be all he offered. Instead, he just handed over the folder.
Annie	Annie was quiet a moment as she opened up the folder, flipping through the contents to find the picture of the man they were after. "Oh, shit," she sighed. "I know him. Gecko. From my Capes for Christ days."
Hughie	Hughie shifted in his seat, feeling a little hopeful for the first time in awhile. "Really? He works in the Tower," Hughie explained. "He can get us some V." And then they could send it on to every newspaper in the world.
Annie	Annie nodded, flipping through the dossier on Matthew. "Yeah. I bet I could...like, reconnect with him. Facebook or something." And then she came across the description of what Matthew was doing in his spare time these days, and she looked up to Hughie skeptically. "Wait, we're going to blackmail him?"
Hughie	"You got a better idea?" Hughie asked, a little sadly, as the train came to a stop and he got up to get off. "It's not like we can count on him doing what we want because we asked nicely."
Annie	Annie sighed, closing the folder. "I'll figure it out," she finally said, shrugging a shoulder. At least she knew someone already who could probably help her take incriminating pictures of someone. She glanced over at Hughie, already making his way to the doors. "Take care of yourself," she called softly, watching him.
Hughie	Hughie lifted a hand in a wave, heading out. "You too." He paused, looking back over his shoulder. "You have a really nice singing voice, by the way."
Annie	And from the inside the station, Annie could hear it now -- her own voice (with just a touch of autotuning because Vought couldn't help themselves) belting, 'Never Truly Vanish' and reverberating off the concrete. She didn't even answer Hughie save for a roll of her eyes as the doors closed. Instead, she just leaned her head back against the seat, sighing out a breath, and tried to think of what to do next.