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The Boys - Let Me Show You A True Hero!

I became Homelander at the start of his Career and let me tell ya! Being a hero is not worth all this troubl- “Thank you so much for saving me from that big bad monster! Mr. Homelander!” The adorable kids from the orphanage he just saved, thanked him. … Ok. Maybe it was worth being a hero.

Writing_Shirou · Anime & Comics
Not enough ratings
15 Chs

Chapter 7

Here is another one! Comment if you want more!

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Chapter 7

 

"SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP!"

 

"SHE'S NOT GOING TO MAKE IT!!! CAN'T YOU FUCKING DRIVE FASTER?!"

 

"CALL FOR BACKUP RIGHT NOW! IT'S A FUCKING SUPE!"

 

"NO! PLEASE! LET ME GO!"

 

"HOLD STILL BITCH! I HATE IT WHEN SLUTS LIKE YOU STRUGGLE!"

 

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

 

Voices.

 

So. Many. Voices.

 

Their collective screams pierce the air, a cacophony of desperate pleas for salvation. The sound echoes through his head, each cry is filled with raw fear. Begging for someone, anyone, to come and save them.

 

His eyes opened, revealing sky-blue irises that reflected the city below. The wind caught the edges of his flowing cape and sent it billowing behind him like a flag in a storm. With a slight turn of his head, he checked the time on the phone he pulled from his back pocket, the sleek device glinting in the sunlight.

 

6:49 AM

 

"Huh, a new record. 10 full minutes of sleep…" With that said, he put the phone away and let out a tired sigh and in the next blink of an eye, he disappeared with a sonic boom.

 

A man was dangling from a skyscraper holding on for dear life, his fingers barely clinging to the ornate ledge. Below him, a crowd of horrified faces stared up in stunned silence punctuated by ragged gasps as the man's strength waned with every passing second.

 

He got him down on the ground safely in a mere moment.

 

An ambulance was stuck in traffic, its wailing siren muted by the thick sea of vehicles clogging the city's arteries. Flashing lights reflected off glassy building faces as it vainly struggled to break free. A girl was inside, her face a mask of pain, her life hanging by a thread.

 

He picked up the 7-ton vehicle with ease, flying it to the nearest hospital.

 

A villain was robbing a bank and was holding civilian hostages. His eyes glowed with a vile, otherworldly light and his hands crackled with the untamed energy of the superpower he wielded. Innocent faces, creased in fear, watched from behind teller counters and beneath desks, their whispers of prayer swallowed by the villain's boisterous laughter. Police useless to do anything.

 

He came into the building by crashing through one of the windows of the bank. The villains never saw what hit him as he knocked him out with a single held-back punch. Bringing a quick end to the hostage situation.

 

In the next second, he arrived in a dark alley where a piece of trash was about to rape a poor innocent woman.

 

A brutish figure of a man had the woman pinned against the graffiti-covered wall, a cocky twisting his grotesque face. The woman's eyes were wide with terror, her screams echoing off the brick walls of the alleyway. Both her hands were behind her back in a tight hold of the man's grip, the bastard using his other hand to pull his pants down but struggling to do so.

 

He descended like a comet, the shock wave of his arrival blowing debris away and catching the offender off-guard. His cape danced violently, swept up in the turbulence of his landing as he grabbed the bastard by the neck.

 

"You should've thought twice, trash," he muttered in a gravel-coated voice that echoed off the wet walls of the alleyway, his eyes red. The thug's eyes widened, horror etching lines into his once-cocky expression as his gaze locked onto the figure standing between him and his victim.

 

The woman scrambled back towards the wall; her pained sobs reduced to a whimper. The hero's gaze softened momentarily as he glanced at her, but hardened once more as he turned back to face the threat before him.

 

His grip tightened around the thug's throat, cutting off his screams. The walls of the alleyway reverberated with a crushing silence as he lifted the man effortlessly into the air. His blue eyes beginning to burn red.

 

"People like you make me sick," he growled, blasting the man into the far wall with a swift, precise toss. The assailant crumpled to the ground unconscious, his body making a twisted shape against the graffiti-ridden bricks. More than a few bones were broken with that light toss.

 

Without wasting a second, he turned towards the woman, her figure huddled against the damp wall.

 

Approaching her slowly, he said in a softer tone, "You're safe now."

 

She clung desperately to her torn clothing, nodding through sobs. Shaking, she looked up at him with gratitude glistening in her eyes, but no words were able to escape her mouth.

 

In the woman's silence, she reached a trembling hand out to him. The hero took her small hand in his, his large palm engulfing hers. With a gentle squeeze meant to reassure, he helped her to her feet. Her sobs began to subside, replaced with shaky breaths as she clutched tighter onto her clothes.

 

With the woman now standing, he could see the damage that had been done. Her dress was torn and dirtied, makeup smeared across her face from tears and struggle. Her eyes were wide and fearful.

 

"It's going to be okay," he said, his voice as steady as the rising sun.

 

He took off his cape and draped it around her, offering something close to warmth and protection.

 

"Here," he said, handing her the piece of fabric. "This might help."

 

She accepted it silently, wrapping the fabric tighter around herself. He looked at her, his eyes filled with exhausted empathy. Wrapping it around herself like a makeshift cloak. It was warm and comforting like an embrace - reassuring in its own way.

 

"Can you tell me your name?" he asked. His voice was gentle, a stark contrast to the harshness of what she almost went through.

 

She hesitated, then whispered, "A...Anna."

 

"All right, Anna," he said, standing up. He glanced back at the unconscious figure slumped against the wall; face twisted in pain. "I'm going to call an ambulance and I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to leave soon."

 

She nodded again and clutched the edges of his cape tighter as he pulled out his phone and dialed 911.

 

The conversation was brief; he reported the incident with a detached tone before hanging up.

 

"I've done what I can," he told her softly. "Help will be here soon."

 

"Thank you," she managed to whisper through trembling lips.

 

Looking at her trembling form made him hesitate to leave her. But the incessant cries of the city reminded him that there were others who needed his help…

 

"…Do you want me to stay?"

 

"No, I'll... I'll be okay, y-your probably needed elsewhere" she stammered, her voice barely audible against the backdrop of the city's sounds. "T-Thank you."

 

With that, he looked at her one more time before shooting off into the sky leaving a sonic boom in his wake. Anna watched him go until he was nothing more than a speck in the sky. The screech of an ambulance could be heard in the distance as she sank down onto the cold ground.

 

He was a blur of speed as he flew around the city, the voices never once quieted down.

 

A burning building on one side of town, an overturned bus on another. Somewhere, someone attempted a jewel heist and on the other end of the city, would-be muggers stalked unsuspecting victims, a child's cat stuck in a tree.

 

The city was his responsibility - its people relied on him as their protector, their hero.

 

After what seemed like hours of stopping crime and heroic deeds, he finally took a moment of respite to look at the time.

 

6:55 AM

 

…6 minutes passed.

 

After all that, only a mere 6 minutes passed.

 

As he stood atop a towering skyscraper, watching over the city as dawn began to break, he couldn't help but feel a pang of exhaustion. But it wasn't a physical tiredness; no, his body was built for far more demanding tasks. It was an emotional weariness settling deep within him.

 

The sweat-slicked face of a child he'd pulled from the burning building, the dimming eyes of the elderly woman he'd freed from beneath the overturned bus, the relief in Anna's eyes when she realized she was safe – they were all etched into his memory. As were the desperate eyes of the jewel thief and the malicious glimmer in the mugger's eyes. Each moment was just another addition to his litany of responsibilities.

 

"How much sleep did you get this time, John?" a voice cut him off from his thoughts.

 

John turned around to see his fellow hero, Queen Maeve. She was dressed in Amazonian armor, her cape blowing with the wind along with his. Her arms were crossed as she floated in the air, looking at John with an expression of concern and annoyance.

 

"Enough," John replied, his eyes returning to the cityscape below, watching for any signs of trouble.

 

"You look like hell," Queen Maeve retorted pointedly, her gaze unyielding as she studied John's face.

 

He shrugged; the tired lines etched deeply into his face softened by the morning light. "I'll live."

 

She scoffed, shaking her head. "Having a bed at Seven's Tower is not just for show."

 

"I'll sleep when the city sleeps," he said, his voice a mixture of calm and resignation. His gaze never left the city below them, never wavering in his watchful stance.

 

"You can't keep doing this, John," she warned, her voice firm as she flew closer to him. "Your mind needs rest."

 

"And who will save them if I rest?" he asked, gesturing to the city below. "Who will protect them? You know as well as I do, the other so-called heroes are as effective as fish on land."

 

"John..." Maeve began, but he cut her off.

 

"No," he said firmly. "I made a promise to myself to be there for them, each and every one. And I won't break it."

 

"John," she started again, now standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him. "You can't save everyone. It's just not humanly – or in our case, superhumanly – possible."

 

"I know," he answered flatly. The words felt like a weight on his chest, a painful truth he couldn't ignore.

 

His eyes scanned the city below as if looking for trouble or someone in need. He was always ready to swoop down and intervene, to play hero once more despite his exhaustion.

 

"But you're still going to try, aren't you?" She watched as his gaze hardened; the usual spark replaced by an unsettling void.

 

"Until it breaks me," he said simply, yet resolute.

 

Though Queen Maeve sighed at his answer, she had expected as much. "You're stubborn, you know that?"

 

"Wouldn't be where I am today if I wasn't." He smirked, a glimmer of humor breaking through the shell of his weariness. His gaze softened as it rested on her. He was grateful for the concern she showed him, but she couldn't understand.

 

None of them could.

 

They weren't him and he wasn't them. Every decision he made; every action he took was borne by him alone - as was the weight of the world he'd chosen to bear on his shoulders.

 

Because of the words he once read in a comic that left a lasting impact on him. From a hero that he considered to be one of the best heroes in all of history.

 

With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility.

 

His gaze returned to the increasingly chaotic city below.

 

"I'll rest when the city rests," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper but firm, each word heavy with resolve.

 

Queen Maeve saw the determination in his eyes and sighed. She knew him better than anyone else; his stubbornness, his relentless pursuit of justice, and the overwhelming sense of responsibility that fueled him. She feared that his unwavering commitment might destroy him one day.

 

But she also admired him for it. He was more than a colleague to her - he was a beacon of hope, a living testament to what true heroism meant. She didn't know if she'd ever have that level of self-sacrifice within her.

 

BOOOOMMMMMM!!!

 

An explosion echoed in the distance, interrupting their conversation. Both turned their heads towards it.

 

"John-" Maeve tried to stop him, but he left before she even finished what she was about to say.

 

With a flash of his crimson cape, he was gone, hurtling through the air towards the source of the explosion. Queen Maeve watched him go; her hand outstretched where he had stood just a moment ago. She sighed, her expression caught between admiration and worry.