knife_bender | Vought Tower

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Vought Tower | Wednesday Night

The last 24 hours had been it's own special type of hell, and the fact that Diego was banned from leaving the tower just made him even more anxious and irritated. It was a smart move from Homelander, holding him hostage, since it incapacitated both him and Annie. At least Annie was allowed to go outside.

Speaking of, she should be getting back from work any minute, which was something. Maybe Hughie had updated her on what went down in Russia.

...which was just a weird thing to think about. What was this, 1985?

[NFB due to distance, but open for the girl and calls/texts if people would like]

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Annie actually managed a very small, watery smile. After the high emotions of the evening -- the continued high emotions -- Diego's gentleness and offer to take care of her was exactly the sort of comfort she needed, on every level.

Even if, thanks to Homelander, the sweet little twinge she felt at being so transparently loved was immediately chased with That'll be Diego.

"Zipper?" she requested, reaching up to unfasten her cape with a clumsy hand. Considering she was determined to keep touching Diego, she might actually need help with more than just the zipper, this time. "And then bed, yeah."

Maybe with a bottle.

Edited 2022-08-17 20:06 (UTC)

"Good plan," he said, moving behind her to get her zipper undone. "Don't know how much sleeping I'm gonna do, now, though."

"I don't think I can ever sleep again," Annie admitted, feeling it to be the truth. She had seen some shit in the last year and a half or so, but the mangled body of her first boyfriend was a step beyond even the nightmareish condition of Stormfront last year, or even how they'd found Elliot back in 1963.

Not to mention, again, the threat that Alex's body had doubled as.

"All of this is my fault," she said, shaking her head. She'd been regretting pulling him into this the entire time, but it had mostly been because of the denial of his privacy, and his loss of autonomy at Homelander's will. But this was so much worse than it had been. "I never wanted...."

She'd never have taken this job, at all, if she'd known that it would pretty much ruin their lives. The co-captainship seemed to have put the nail in that coffin, after a year of feeling like she might actually have this.

"There was no way you could have seen any of this coming," Diego said. "This is Homelander's fault--and Vought's for letting him get this bad."

"Encouraging it," Annie supplied, slipping her bracers off. "He's trending."

She wondered if he would still be trending if everyone out there knew what he'd done tonight. The fact that she genuinely wasn't sure was terrifying.

"I bet they're gonna say Alex was on drugs," she realized, her eyes filling with now-furious tears all over again because that was so fucking unfair, to have that be his legacy after what he'd overcome. "To cover it up. He was -- he had a pill thing, for awhile."

"Yeah, you're probably right about that," Diego admitted. It was Vought, of course they were gonna say that. "Hopefully we'll be able to find a way to get the truth out. You know, after...all this...hostage taking thing."

God, he felt so useless right now.

"Can we...."

This felt so stupid, but it would make her feel a lot better. Annie considered the question for a moment as she leaned just enough to turn the shower off. (The sink, for the moment, was staying on. An abundance of white noise was almost as stupidly comforting as what she was about to propose.)

"I'm gonna change," she decided. "And then can we push the couch against the door?"

It wouldn't stop him, if he really wanted in. But it would give them time.

Diego nodded. "Yeah, of course we can."

He knew it wouldn't stop Homelander or Noir or whoever either, but it would be comforting having it there all the same.

"Man, I wish I spent the day thinking of booby traps I could set up." To be fair, he didn't know his life would be threatened today.

"At least there's knives in the chandelier," Annie offered, much less playfully than she might have a week ago. "And everywhere else."

Maybe they'd have a shot at Homelander's eyes. Though, if they missed -- wow, watch Annie not think about that as she led the way back into the bedroom so she could put on the first comfortable clothes she found.

(And maybe take off her boots. Everything was harder than it needed to be, right now. She still wasn't quite thinking her clearest.)

Yeah, you'd be hard pressed to get Diego to take his harness off any time soon. Good thing the knives wouldn't actually hurt Annie if she pressed up against him.

While she was changing, Diego went over to the bar and grabbed some White Claws. Harder liquor was probably called for, but they had to keep some of their wits about them.

Given how wrought up Annie was, and the fact that neither of them had slept last night, hard liquor would actually probably knock her ass out. (The White Claws might, quite honestly.)

When Annie emerged in a T-shirt and joggers, having taken a side trip back to the bathroom to wash her face (and turn off the sink), she almost smiled. "Any mango ones?"

She'd take whatever, but it would be, like, the fucking cherry on the day if all they had was gross flavors, like raspberry.

Edited 2022-08-17 21:51 (UTC)

"Yep," he said, tossing the can at her. "Probably should move the couch before alcohol."

She caught the can easily, nodding as she set it aside for the moment. "You're smart."

He was, but she also needed the guidance before she was halfway down that can and remembered she'd wanted to move the couch. This was one of those times when, even aside from the terror specifically concerning him, Annie was very grateful to have Diego.

She didn't really let herself fall apart all that often, but tonight there were apparently no other options. It was fine. She figured she got, like, one of these per year. (And maybe none in 2023? Let's hope.)

She moved over towards the couch, giving the back of it a good yank to pull it out from the wall so they could push it over to the door.

Diego moved to help with the pushing, even if he was well aware that it would mostly be Annie moving the thing. "It might not stop him, but we'll definitely hear him coming in."

And then they could attempt to fight back before dying horribly.

For a moment, Annie considered suggesting they could climb through the air vents to escape -- but there was no way Diego would fit, even if she somehow managed to squeeze in there. They could throw a piece of furniture through the window and jump and hope that Annie was invulnerable enough to take the fall for both of them -- but that was ridiculous. They were ninety-nine stories up. No one could survive a fall like that, Super or not.

So yeah. Fighting back it would have to be. Maybe they could blind Homelander together before he ripped them apart with his bare hands? That would give anyone who survived them a chance without having to deal with laser eyes, at least.

"Might just piss him off," Annie noted, giving the couch a good push towards the door (and, yeah, Diego was mostly here to help steer and look good while pushing.) "But...anything could."

"That's the thing about being completely insane," Diego said, grunting as he did his best to be of some help pushing. "Anything could trigger his crazy ass."

"There's no predicting him," Annie agreed, moving a little more central on the couch so she could absorb the bulk of the weight here as she pushed. It was helping her a lot to have something to focus her energy on, even if they were openly acknowledging that this gesture was basically worthless as far as actually protecting them. "I used to know what would do it, but I got...lazy."

That wasn't really the word. Comfortable? She'd let her guard down, and she'd never stop regretting it.

"Maybe that is what he was waiting for," Diego said. "For all of us to get complacent."

"Maeve was so smart to make it just look like she had," Annie sighed, shoving the couch against the door. And with that in place, she could let up on the other (foolish, placebo effect) safeguards in place -- her eyes flashed briefly, and the TV quieted in response. "She never let her guard down."

But then again, Maeve had also gone through shit Annie couldn't even imagine with Homelander.

"She also didn't have another universe to go to forget about this stuff," Diego pointed out. "You're being too hard on yourself, babe. We did have other things to think about. The apocalypse? Two of them?"

"That's fair," Annie admitted softly, though the guilt in general wasn't going to go anywhere for awhile. But she would, at least, try to stop blaming herself for everything. "I just...no matter what happens, we can't fix this."

They could, potentially, get Homelander under control. Hughie could bring back a fucking miracle in a box from Russia and take care of the whole thing. Maeve could have a plan B that actually worked like a charm.

But none of it would bring Alex back.

"I don't think fixing it is an option either," Diego said. Optimism wasn't his strong suit. "We just have to...survive it, I guess."

Well. Bleak.

Annie stepped back to survey her handiwork, deciding the couch was as snug as she could get it against the door before retrieving that White Claw from where she'd left it. And within seconds, she was reaching for Diego's hand. "Bed?"

If they couldn't do anything else -- and they were stuck for the moment -- Annie kind of just needed to be held and to grieve.

And he really could help there, in a way no one else could.

"Yes, please," he said, taking her hand. "With any luck nobody will bother us for a few...days."

They'd be lucky to get hours, let's be real.

"I'm not getting my hopes up," Annie replied, leading the way into the bedroom and wasting zero time in crawling into the bed. "I'll have to...."

She trailed off, taking the opportunity to open her can and take a sip before very softly offering, "Make a statement."

You know, unless some sort of incredibly handsome bomb showed up in town and distracted everyone.

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