012. BENEFITS

✎ S1E4 ⇢ ˗ˏˋ PART 1 , 2019

|"THE FEMALE OF THE SPECIES"
     Dean had never really met Stillwell's higher up in his lifetime, or from what he knows himself. The only thing he's gathered from individuals around him through gossip was the person doesn't play around. Strict, purely business, makes sense. But he was human, far more weaker then Dean. So why was he having an odd feeling as he steps closer to the doors to their personal office? Like the feeling you get when something's not right and you ultimately backtrack on the decision. Well in his situation, he wasn't able to.

The hallway that led to the office was redacted of music and practically anyone at all. Only few where there but it seemed they had a higher purpose than the ones on the lower levels. Pure clean floors that mirror the ceiling with plain white walls that gave no direction to anything whatsoever. The only thing hinting at the office was the open glass, giving you view of the well decorated office of the person. Off the to right were a few desk with people sitting, doing their job. Most likely assistants of his.

Dean dustes himself and walks up to of them. An Asian woman sat behind, clicking away until she heard the pounding footsteps of his. She looks up and nods in recognition. "You have an appointment with Mr. Stanford, Rebound."

Is she asking me or telling me?

He shifts his black glasses and straightens out his leather black jacket. "Uh," He coughs. "Yes? Do I just uh..." He points towards the mysterious man behind the glass. "Walk-"

Interrupting him, the lady stands up and motions him to follow her. "Right this way,"

"Okay..." Dean was nervous, he wouldn't lie. Especially since as they walked over the man kept his eye on him the whole time.

"Rebound at your request, Mr. Stanford." She spke holding the door open for Rebound. He thanked her quietly and slowly walked in.

"Thank you Samantha." The man said. His voice was alluring. A voice that would read or tell you something in a way that makes you invested more than you should.

Dean stood awkwardly as by the door as the man walks around his desk and sits in front of it. "Please sit." The man motions to the seat on to his left. Dean would've liked it if he a the singular chair right across from him, the farthest one.

He plops and rests his hands in his lap. Lookng up at the man from his angle. "Uh sir-"

The man scoffs. "Edgar is fine."

"Okay- Edgar um...what exactly am I here for?" Dean spoke with the most hesitation possible. Not out of being unsure but out of fear. Reminding himself that he was a supe put him at more ease.

Edgar just stares menacingly at him before responding. "Well, I simply need to check up on my products to see if they're working at their best ability."

Dean nods, unsure of what to say.

Edgar let a quick sly cross his face before going back to a resting expression. "Are you? Working at your best ability?"

"I- I think I can certainly do better." Dean responds.

"You can, can't you?" He abruptly stands and takes off the glasses from Dean. In confusion, Dean opens and closes his mouth, still unsure on how to respond.

"Apologies-" Edgar States. "Since I devote my time and effort in creating and giving hospitality to my products I'd expect respect from them." He places them on the coffee table in front of them.

He scratches his neck and straightens his back. "Sorry sir- uh Edgar."

"From what I've been seeing," He continues without giving a response to Dean. "You've been lacking in most areas but given what's recently happened to you, I'll make an exception. Just this once."

Dean's palms began to sweat, he subtlety tries to wiped them off on his jeans. "That won't happen again, I promise you."

He hums and sat in his chair. "I'll hold you to that promise, Dean."

What really confused Dean was what Edgar had asked next. "How's you're relationship with Homelander?"

Laughing slightly, Dean turns his body to Edgar. "Uh, it's alright- I mean there is still a weird tension and the fights are never ending. It's mostly nonsense he fights me over for." He hoped to god Homelander couldn't hear him.

"That manchild. I know you barley know me but believe me when I say this. You are one of our best products ever made. You're not the one but you are among the rest of the following candidates. Your brother on the other hand" Edgar scoffs and taps a pen on the table. "May be our saddest failure yet. I would take it back if I could but we need to learn from our mistakes correct?"

"Correct." Dean was surprised someone still had their head still intact after talking about Homelander. But given he's the mastermind in the building probably states why.

After a few eerie, sharpen cold moments, Edgar spoke again. Catching Dean off guard. "What do you know of Soldier Boy and Telec?"

What does know of soldier boy? Probably that he's been dreaming of someone looking exactly like him, that's supposedly his brother. And Telec? He hasn't seen him in his dreams unless he was seeing in the eyes of Telec but then why was Soldier Boy calling him by his name? Maybe because it was his brain and it put him as the center instead of Telec.

"Weird question," Dean says, laughing along the way. "But uh, he was a war hero that died tragically and his brother went missing soon after."

"Do people ever mention that you look exactly like them?" Edgar question as he took out some paper and started to write on it.

"Yes, I have gotten that quite a few times. I'm still unsure as to why I look like them. Am I related in some way?" Dean rest his left arm on the couch and his other sooths his lap.

"In some way, yes." He stops writing and looks Dean in his eyes. "Sometimes when we create our products, some are made industrially and some are given by volunteers. I know it poses a risk in telling you such things but if you're smart, you wouldn't tell a soul...would you?"

"I don't really have anyone to tell- not that I would if I did. I just-" Dean began to ramble but was stopped by Edgar.

"I believe you, I do. Unlike your brother. Already posing risks to our pharmaceutical company." He stands upright in his seat, the chair not moving an inch, despite it being a chair with wheels.

"As I was saying. We reuse certain...biological aspects from former assets we've made. Some benefit our new testers, it may be a saved dial of blood or other DNA we keep. It gives our new testers the abilities they've had with their own, making the tester even more valuable than they once were. In some rare cases errors can occur and duplication can ensue. In which has happend to you, so you can in a way," he says with a hint of hast in his voice. "be a descendant of the former American brothers. It's different for Homelander's case."

Dean was astonished to say the least. Being a descendant of the most known superheros was a relief to him fortunately. But if that made him a descendant, what of Homelander? He shifts in his seat. "How is it different if we're related?"

Edgar takes a looks at his watch and sighs. "I need to be going but I'll make this quick. You were both made as embryos from volunteers unfortunately for you, different volunteers. Kept in cryopreservation and being injected with what I've told before until you were ready to be sent to lab for 9 months growth. You had basically grew and grown up right beside Homelander, though not biologically related. You both had a bond that was tough to break."

It was too much, too much for him. Surely Edgar had a good explanation as to why his past is a blank slate. "Then how come I can't remember practically anything from my childhood?"

"Unfortunately," Edgar tears his gazed away from him and walks to a photo hung on the right side of the wall that was in between the glass pane windows. "Side effects do tend to occur in your case. Memory loss is the most reoccurring. It is why you have difficulty grasping what is reality and what is purely fictional."

"Well," Dean gulps and rubs his hands together. "Thanks for the information you gave me. I uh-"

"No need." Edgar tells Dean, returning to his seat. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have a meeting to attend to. As a way to repay you for the respect you've given me, you are relieved of your duties as Rebound for a few days. But you must come back and perform to your best ability. Can you do that?"

Dean sighs and grabs his glasses and stands up. "Yes sir."

"Then you are dismissed." He says no more and continues on his computer.

Samantha then escorted him to the elevator to where he enters and goes to ground level, at the thought of heading home. He puts his glasses on and leaves the tower, walking down the sidewalk.

He grabs his phone and starts to find Hughie's contact until someone turned him around by the shoulder, roughly. He gets irritated and starts to yell. "Dude, the hell are you-"

Dean takes in his attire and it seemed he was in a rush, it also seemed he came from the tower just now. He seemed scared, a fear plastered on his face. In his clutched hand he puts the contents in Dean's and closes his and rushes away without saying an ounce. With scrunched eyebrows his opens his palm, which had a drive and a piece of paper on it.

It read,
Don't read outloud. Use this to your benefit, I'm dead anyways as soon as you get this.
- Former Employee

Huh? What's even on it? He thought, maybe Hughie can find a use for it.

His phone began to ring. His ring tone was recently change to Hughie's favorite song, We Didn't Start The Fire. He answers and a yelling Stillwell talked. "Rebound, where are you? A plane was highjack and we need you there with Homelander and Maeve."

He puts the drive in his pocket and starts walking. "Sorry to bring the bad news but your higher up, Edgar said I could take a few days off. So no, they can handle it. And if Homelander is listening tell him I didn't have a say, bye."

"Wait, Rebound-"

He hung up and and clicks Hughie contact. Unsure of what to say. As soon as he hits call, Hughie had quickly picked up the call. "Dean? Where have you been? Are- Are you okay?"

At the sound of his voice, Dean attitude bumped up to ecstatic rather than fear and glum. Dean walked with more purpose and kept a smile. "Yeah, yeah I'm okay. I need to show you something, can you come over to my house soon? I'll text you the address."

"Oh, uh..." He hears Hughie pause. "I'm kind of on a date right now. But I'll come over later, can it- can you wait for me?"

"Oh," Dean was disappointed for some reason but was proud of Hughie for moving on. "That's great Hughie, tell me all about when you come over?"

"Sure, I- I gotta go. See you later- oh and you better tell me why you haven't returned any of my calls or messages dude. Like seriously, help a friend from freaking out."

They both share a laugh. "Okay, okay, get back to your date. Don't want them thinking you're cheating now."

He hears Hughie's scoffs. "Oh my god- I'll see you later Dean. Bye."

Dean hangs up too and began his departure to his house in the outskirts in New York.

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     The sun began to set as he sat in his house in Westchester County. With a fresh shower, he went down his stairs with a towel draped around his waist. Showing off his impressive build in body muscle to absolutely no one. He makes his way down stairs to his living room. Turning on the tv which automatically broadcasted to a news channel. To no one's suprise, was showing Homelander and Maeve reporting about the plane Dean denied in helping. Which he soon regrets upon hearing they're no survivors. He crushed the remote in his hand by accident from his hatred, knowing this was Homelander's cause. Knowing it was his way of getting the approval of supes entering the military defense.

If only I had been there...just maybe...

"Dammit," Dean says. He throws the broken remote on the floor and enters the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he grabs a beer and pops it open. Chugging as much as he could until he heard a light knock.

He makes his way to the door and spoke. "Who is it?"

"Uh," He heard a timid voice. "It's Hughie."

"Oh, uh," he tries to look for something to cover himself but couldn't find anything close so he creeks the door open and motions to Hughie to quickly getting in. "Sorry about this," Dean points to his revealing skin.

As he pointed to his chest, Hughie follows and stares widely unsure of what to say. "It's uh, it's alright. It's your house." Hughie looks away in embarrassment as he stared too long and places his hands in his pockets. Dean took notice and said nothing but smirks. He goes upstairs to get dressed in a white-ish long sleeve and sweats with his watch around his right wrist.

Hughie walks around, looking ooks at Deans' house. His living room was very much organized except for the broken remote. He walks more in and finds pictures of Dean with other people. Probably his friends outside of work

Dean returns with his body covered and sauntered his way to Hughie. Both stare at eachother until they talked at the same time.

"So Hughie, how that date-"

"You got a house-"

"Uh, sorry. You go first." Dean says, rubbing his neck and sitting on the couch. Patting the spot next to him, to which Hughie sat.

Hughi rubs his lap and looks around. "Suburbs, really? Didn't take you for this type of life style."

"Well," Dean laughs, leaning back. Resting his arm on the top of the couch, his fingers reaching to the shoulder of Hughie's. "Either this or live in the smack dab of NYC, it's more quiet here anyways. Makes me forget about being a superhero."

"Cool..." Hughie stays stiff with his back straight up. "Any uh, family?"

Dean rolls his eyes and looks to the bottle on the table in front of him. "I mean it just Homelander and I. No one else."

"Must be lonely..." Hughie says.

"Not really...I got you." Dean jokes, trying to light the sad little tension in the air.

A sudden bark was heard and a small dog came running in the living room, jumping in Dean lap and resting. "You have a dog?"

He looks at Hughie in a weird way and hugs his dog. "Yes, just because I'm a superhero doesn't mean I don't have compassion. He's a purebred Jack Russell Terrier and his name's Tazz. Say hi Tazz,"

"Hi Hughie," Dean says in his highest pitched voice to Hughie, holding his dog up and waving the paw at him.

Hughie grins and waves, "Hi." That was cute.

"Okay," Dean kisses his dog and lets him run off. Hughie smiling once more at his interaction with his dog.

"Hey Hughie?" Dean questions.

"Yeah?" Hughie responds, as he was taken out of his thoughts.

Dean looks at his posture to see it was very stiff and his seemed to be putting strain on his back. He gently puts his hand on his shoulder and leans his back on the couch. "Relax man, no one's gonna hurt you."

As soon as he relaxed Dean continues to talked. He grabs his drink and takes a sip. "So about that date you had, how was it?"

"It was great, yeah uh, she's great." He says this as he nods his head aggressively.

Dean squeels but it came out more as a yell of happiness. "That's great man, what's her name?"

Hughie's tilts his head the left and scratches, he closes his eyes and says her name. "Annie January."

Dean recognized that name, he saw it on her record when he was getting to know about his teammate. "Starlight!? You're dating my co-worker? I didn't really see that coming..." Dean explains as he watches TV.

"Hey, she different okay. She not like them." Hughie defends Starlight.

Dean sets the drink down and turns his body to Hughie with a sly smirk. His eyes darting up and down at Hughie, "What about me?" His voice became a octave deeper.

"Well what about you?" Hughie didn't know where Dean was going with this. He shifted in his seat from Dean's perplexing gaze he gave to him.

Dean held out his hands as to show a visual of  left and right sight of the spectrum. "Where do I stand, with the dicks or the lady?"

"You're my friend, you don't stand with dicks or Annie. I said that weird I'm sorry-" Hughie eases his eyebrows and tilts his head with a bubbly smile. "No but in all seriousness, where have you been Dean? I called and messaged but you never answered."

Dean suddenly gazes down and spoke slowly. "...I don't know."

"You don't know? How do you not know?"

"I guess, I died again?" He questioned himself more than he did to Hughie.

"You- you died!? When?" Hughie sat stiff, eyes full of fear.

He scratches his head ferociously. "I don't know, I was going back to vought with Homelander and then it was blank until I woke up a day after. They said I had offed myself which I knew I didn't do because, well I just know. Oh and-"

Dean had got up and ran upstairs, getting the drive the person had given him, handing it to a confused Hughie. "What's this?"

Dean stood with his hands on his hips. "I don't know, can you take a look?"

He closes his eyes, shaking his head. "Uh sure, got a computer?"

Dean grabs his computer from under the tv stand and hands it to Hughie. Hughie does his jam and places the drive stick in the USB hole and starts clicking away. He clicks as Dean stands in front of the table while Hughie sat on the other side. Out of nowhere Hughie eyes go wide as he stands up, frozen in trance like state.

"What's wrong? Is it porn?" He tried to make him laugh but fails, confused he goes to Hughie's side and sees a secret recording someone took of Homelander standing over a bloodied and dead Rebound on the ground, with head bleeding profusely. What really ticked Hughie off was what Homelander said as his brother layed dead in front of him.

Dean automatically closes his computer and tries to tend to Hughie. Who look like he was experiencing ptsd if he didn't already have it from his encounter by A-Train.

He grabs one shoulder and puts his other hand on his cheek. "Hughie man, I'm sorry. I didn't know that was gonna be there, I'm for real-"

Hughie looks at Dean teary and in a sort of trance. "Everyone just- just, just dying around me aren't they? What if Annie's next? Butcher? Me?"

"No, no one's fucking dying anymore." Dean takes the drive and shakes it in the air. "We will give this Butcher, he'll know what to do with it."

"Are you sure?" Hughie asks, putting his long slender hand over Dean's, holding his cheek.

"Yeah, why don't you sleepover man, take my bed. You need it." He pats his cheek and places the drives back on the table. He then went to grab a blanket from the hallway closet.

"I can take the couch Dean-" Hughie protests, standing up and stopping Dean. Wiping away his tears and trying to get Dean to take his own bed.

Dean jokingly acts serious. "Take the fucking bed, don't argue with me babe."

He quickly nods and puts his hands up and smiles without Dean knowing. "Okay-alright goodnight Dean."

"First door on the right is my room. 'Night Hughie." He yells. Dean watches until Hughie was out of his sight and flops on the couch. He sighs. Dean hopes he knows what he was doing, and whether or not if giving the drive stick is right course of action.

While Hughie tried all night to get a dead, gorey, almost headless Dean out of his head.