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Ryan looked around, closing the door behind himself as he stepped deeper into the trashed apartment, his eyes landing on his backpack left beside the couch, each of his steps crunching thanks to the glass shards around.
Everything had been destroyed except for the TV, which was still out of place.
His hands closed in fists, he shouldn't have returned-
“Ryan?”
He looked behind himself in a startle, his father stood with a twitching smile, eyes blinking rapidly for a second.
“That is okay.” The adult held up both hands, “I am not mad anymore.” He brushed under his eye, “I am glad you are back.”
The boy's eyes went to the side, his heart thundering.
“That was… that was just a slip… why don't you go to your room while this mess is cleaned-”
“No.” Ryan swallowed, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, his gaze met his father, “I want to see where you grew up.”
Homelander’s eyes made that strange blinking, “What?” The softness of his voice fading.
“The lab you grew up in, I want to see it.”
His breath unsteady, “Why?” His tone deeper.
Ryan's jaw clenched, “I want to understand…” he approached his father, his heart still pounding, he could hear it himself, so did the adult in front of him, who wasn't too far from himself on that aspect.
Homelander’s shoulders dropped, he removed his gloves to text something on his phone before gesturing at the boy.
*
They waited as the elevator went down, standing in silence as the doors opened, Homelander crossed his arms.
Ryan tried to look up to his dead stare, yet his father unceremoniously stormed off inside, the boy followed, in a slower pace, stopping close by a desk, and watching as Homelander opened a heavy red door, looked inside the room without getting into it, and let out a breath.
Homelander slowly turned to Ryan, the adult’s expression a mix of relief and something else, “It is here.” His eyes went up to the ceiling, each step of his echoed, “This place.”
Sterile smell filled his nose, Ryan looked around to the light gray walls, to a notice board with pictures, texts and drawings of suits similar to his father's, his gaze caught a portrait, which he soon took it in hands, it showed four adults, three men and a woman, between them a blonde boy wearing a hospital gown, all of them serious, yet the boy's eyes had something else, a lack of brightness. Ryan briefly glanced at his father, putting down the portrait, before stepping away without saying a word, he approached a gray door, pulling it open by the doorknob, he looked up in the small room that had what seemed like strange shaped lamplights. He placed a foot in, looking inside-
“It is an oven, get out of there.” Homelander stood right behind him.
“An oven?” Ryan let out as his arm got pulled and the door was suddenly closed.
“Endurance test, they shove a subject in there and leave it cooking to see if it will survive, how much damage it will get…” his jaw clenched once he stopped talking.
Ryan’s eyes slipped to somewhere else he approached, to a wall with growth marks, his father's actual name beside each, yet in the last mark, his name had a “x” traced over it, and “The Homelander” right below.
He stepped past it, passing by empty tables, until a gray bluish door, that was just a small storage with lab stuff, and a cardboard box on the floor level, that soon got pulled out of its place, revealing a tape with his father's name written. The lid was pushed away, Ryan looked inside the box, pulling up two small pale blue blankets, one baby shirt of the same color, and one picture of his father wearing that shirt and diapers, sitting on the floor as he held one of those blankets, his big eyes looking up in curiosity as a smile seemed about to form on his lips.
Ryan blinked, those were the only things in the box that were soon put back in, except for the picture, which he held while looking up for at least another box, but found none, and the other storage was fully empty.
The next door close by led to a dark room, Ryan reached the switch button that allowed him to see a chair with wrist and ankle restraints right in front of a metal bed.
“It is a minor ‘surgery’ room, there is nothing in there.” Homelander pulled Ryan back, closing the door and standing in front of it, “Are you done?”
“No.”
The adult’s eyes went down to Ryan's hand, “Why are you holding it?”
“I would like to keep it.”
“For what? There are tons of pictures of me out there.”
“Not one of you as a baby.” Ryan kept going as his father's expression twisted slightly, “This one has only you, and you look happy.”
Homelander held up Ryan's wrist, eyeing the image and slowly blinking while letting the boy's arm go.
Ryan kept a firm grip on the picture, careful to not damage it, his head turned to the empty room with the red heavy door his father stormed in as soon as they arrived, “What is wrong about that room?”
Homelander shrugged, “Nothing. It was boring as fuck…” he supported himself on the wall, “I called it ‘Bad Room’. Where I stayed in whatever I wasn't being tested on.”
Ryan approached, the place was fully white except for the door, walls, floor and ceiling, bright polished white, nothing else beside it. He looked out from inside the room, glimpsing his father's red boots, yet it was the white floor that caught his attention more, the flash of aunt Grace’s body, her head uncannily positioned, her spine sticking out of the neck without breaking the skin.
He killed her.
Just like he killed his mom.
“Are you done?” Homelander asked with an uneased expression.
Ryan shook his head, his gaze went to the doorframe as he checked the wall’s thickness, he couldn't see through it, yet there was an odd unevenness behind the tiles. His eyes narrowed, his fingertip tracing until the closest hollowness, then he stood right in front of that spot before pressing it until the tile broke while keeping the picture safe on his nondominant hand.
He heard his father's steps approaching, Ryan removed the small chunks, then a larger piece.
“What are you doing?” Homelander half walked in, looking at the same place Ryan stared at.
The wall had dents, punch marks, one of them that took his attention most, a small hand shape which Ryan touched. He pulled another tile, taking pieces of it until another spot on the wall was visible, making clear that the entire room was covered in dents, from different sizes, made in different stages of life, each hidden under in white tiles.
That place was awful.
His visit only made that fact crystal clear.
“You did it?” Ryan looked up, touching another fist shaped hand.
Homelander scratched his chin, “Yes.”
Aunt Grace claimed to love him, if she truly did, why was she willing to lock him in a place like that? Ryan had been locked before, with his mom, his poor mom… She wouldn't lock him alone, she wouldn't lock him that, not in an awful place like this. She locked herself with him, and their house wasn't awful, just a bit lonely for them both…
Ryan passed by his dad while walking out of the room, this place was cold and awful, a cold awful hell.
Why aunt Grace?
His eyes went down to the picture he held while stepping until the wallboard was visible.
Why scientists?
“Will you tell me what exactly you wanted to understand?”
Ryan turned back, his dad had a hand on his hip, “I killed aunt Grace.”
Homelander blinked, his eye twitching, his arm dropped as he took a step ahead, he opened his mouth, taking a few seconds before asking, “Why?” He spoke slowly, keeping himself from making a single shrug.
“She wanted to lock me in a safe house.”
Another blink, “What?”
“To train me, so I could get stronger than you, and kill you one day. I said I wanted to leave,” Ryan felt his face getting warmer, “She got in front of me and she wouldn't get out of my way… So I pushed her…”
Homelander approached, flexing his gloveless hands and slowly placing both of them on Ryan's shoulders.
The boy didn't look up, the last time he felt bad for accidentally killing a human, his dad got annoyed, “I didn't want to kill her, I don't want to kill you, I just wanted to leave that place.” He wiped away tears, “She said she loved me… I don't get it.”
His dad rubbed his back, “Humans see us as weapons to be controlled. You were not going to become stronger by getting locked in a place like this. You are strong already. They were going to break you down until you became obedient.” He lowered himself, brushing away Ryan's tears with the cold back of his hand, “She did not love you, she was afraid of you, and she saw you as nothing but a tool for her to control.” his words were followed by silence.
Until Ryan looked up, directly into his father's eyes, “Did you rape mom?”
Homelander stared back at him with the same intensity, “Mallory told you that?” He let out a breath, “It was an affair, Ryan. You both were hidden from me in a fake neighborhood. I didn't even suspect you were born as I spent my whole life being told I was infertile… Had I known since the beginning, both of you would never have been put in isolation.”
Ryan took a breath, “What about flight 37?”
Homelander clenched his jaw. “If I answer it, will you let me explain it once you are old enough to understand?”
Slowly, Ryan nodded.
“I could not save it. The controllers were fried accidentally while I killed a terrorist. If I tried to lift the plane, I would open a hole in it, if I tried to save the passengers one by one, they would end up dead anyway given the speed, or paralysed neck down.” A pause, “Any other question, I will answer you, when you are old enough.”
Another nod.
“I am your dad, I am your family and I love you and I will not let you ever be imprisoned and experiment on like I was.” His hand squeezed Ryan's shoulder.
“I love you, dad.” Ryan wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck, still carefully holding the picture as he got hugged back.
“Come on.” Homelander said while straightening his spine, “Let's get out of here.”
Ryan held his bare hand as they stepped to the elevator, which soon took them up back to the ground level.