Chapter Text
''So here's the fuckin' plan, Hughie.''
Butcher swiped Hughie's coffe cup off the dashboard of the beat-up old van as he laid out a crumped map. Hughie flinched as the corner slapped him in the face.
''This here is a map of the mountain range, got it? Here we are, at the base. Now me and Frenchie will camp out here, in the van. Mother's Milk, you're driving.''
This was met with a groan from the back seat.
''You'll be wired, so we'll keep surveillance on you from down here. The equipment won't work up there, besides, no use all of us hauling our sorry arses up a mountain, eh? We'll be in your ear the whole time, you'll be fine. If something goes wrong, we'll hear from the earpiece and come get you.''
This did nothing to ease Hughie's dread. He'd felt sick all morning- barely any sleep, unable to keep food down and a pounding headache. Frenchie had noticed Hughie's shaking hands, bouncing leg and the dark rings around his eyes, but failed to reassure him. As far as he was concerned, it was about time Hughie pulled his weight around. The plan is a simple one, Hughie told himself. He was to pose as a hiker and scale to the top of the Seventh Peak, a mountain which lay home to the supe's getaway cabin. It was odd to Hughie, to picture Homelander doing anything but waving to crowds and terrorising citizens. The thought of him in such a domestic enviroment as a cosy log cabin just didn't seem natural. Once at the cabin, Hughie was to enter and locate a vial of Compound V that Ezekiel had assured him would be there after he was questioned at the baptism. More than two weeks had gone by and Hughie still couldn't stop thinking about his encounter with Homelander... his intense stare, his face so close he could feel his breath, the touch of his powerful hands as he plunged him into the water and held him there...
This did nothing to reassure him. Infact, he felt a burning sensation of acidic vomit in the back of his throat and tried to guess which of yesterday's meals was about to re-introduce itself.
''Oi, Hughie, you listenin' or what? You're off in fucking fairy land, come on. Focus.'' Butcher snapped him back to reality.
''Uh, right, right... yeah, go to the cabin, find the vial, come back. Sounds... easy enough. And uh... you're sure Homelander won't be there?''
''What do you take me for, Hughie? 'Course I'm sure. I've done my bloody homework, that bastard supe is at a conference down South. Won't be sniffing around here for at least a week.''
Hughie felt doubtful, but decided that Butcher had been playing this game far longer than he had. He knew they didn't take him seriously, he was just lucky to be there. He needed to prove himself, be worthy of being one of the boys. He kept his eyes on the road as Butcher clambered into the back with Frenchie, and Mother's Milk took his seat up front. They had a long, two hour drive to the Seventh Peak, and Hughie decided he needed all the rest he could get. He leaned his head onto the window and closed his eyes, letting the gentle hum of the van lull him into quiet dreams.