Doux Mouton Noir

“I could’ve healed you, y’know?” Noir smiles faintly behind his mask—he was right to trust these people with Mya, because they clearly care for her and seem actually more capable of keeping his girl safe than he is—before slowly turning to face the girl. He tilts his head, then, nods his head once. Marie purses her lips, nods back, stands awkwardly for a moment. Smiles just as awkwardly, then, slowly and carefully, moves over to stand beside him. She glances over the balcony, smiles automatically upon seeing Jordan chuckling and talking with Mya and a few others. Noir follows her line of sight, turns and is smiling himself when his own eyes land on Mya, who is wearing a big beautiful grin as she pours out coffees for everyone (always taking care of people—just one of the many things he loves about her.) Marie watches Noir for a moment. Smiles to herself when she sees him seemingly staring over at her friend. She only knows of what she sees on TV of him, and of course, by his stoic and terrifying reputation, but right now, he looks rather lost in thought...and kind of nervous. Which is understandable, now seeing for herself how much he really cares for Mya, but it also makes Marie feel even more fucking terrified of Homelander. “You can tell me to go fuck myself and stay outta your business—or, I guess, you could sign it to me...sorry...” Marie tries to keep her heart calm as he slowly turns to stare at her. When he only does stare, she sees that as a sign to continue. She says, “But, um, why exactly would you not want to be healed? To...to be able to talk? To talk to Mya?” Noir can’t help turn and let his eyes fall back on Mya—still smiling and being so helpful and wonderful and just all round perfect, the way she is. “J-J-Juuust tell her, Earving.” Buster Beaver softly encourages, perched on the railing in between he and the girl. His nervous stutter is bolder whenever Noir himself is nervous—he adds, “Sh-She won’t j-j-juuudge you.” He smiles over at Marie with his cute furry face and big buck teeth. Noir feels his heart melting as his gaze drifts back to Mya. Marie’s eyes widen slightly in surprise when she hears a soft sigh escape him. It’s odd hearing any noise from him when not even his footsteps make a sound. Noir turns fully to face the girl. Straightens up and (metaphorically, of course) puts on his big boy pants. Slowly, (so as not to startle her in their newly slowly growing friendship and trust) he lifts his right hand, places it over his stomach; over where Homelander ripped out his guts and left him for dead; over the now non-existent wound this girl, who barely knows him, healed completely without him even asking. Marie stares curiously as he lifts his other hand to his chin, then, just as slowly moves his flat palm out towards her. Noir then holds both hands together and shakes them gently at her with a bow of his head. “Oh, you’re thanking me?” Noir lifts his head and nods, arms then falling back to his sides. Marie nods, smiles brightly. “You’re welcome. But you don’t need to thank me. Our friends’ friends are our friends, too.” Noir wouldn’t know much about all of that kind of thing. Being in The Seven was definitely a big step up for him from being stuck with Soldier Boy and the rest of Payback. And though, Countess was always nice to him, she never stood up for him. He can’t even remember being truly appreciated or welcomed by anyone before or since meeting Mya. (Even his own parents treated him like a fucking cash cow.) Noir simply nods once in acknowledgement. Then, points towards Mya. Marie nods as she watches him turn to her. Watches him shake his head and pretend to zip up his hidden lips behind that mask. “I won’t say anything.” She tells him, “She doesn’t know much about any of our powers.” Noir pulls out his phone from his back pocket, types out a text before showing her. Marie reads it aloud in mumble, “‘I know you can tell I’m scared. I know how your powers work.’” Again, Marie purses her lips, this time, out of nervousness. Noir puffs out a short airy chuckle. Takes back his phone and types; I’m not gonna hurt anyone...not here anyway. Marie chuckles at his reply after he show her his phone again. Relaxes with a sigh and a dip of her head. Rests her arms over the railing and glares to herself as she tells him, “To be honest, I’m not sure how I would even heal you completely without actually hurting Mya, just like I hurt my friends when I stupidly believed bringing Godolkin back would help. I’m still not sure how my powers actually work. Not many of us around here are. Jordan is probably one of the lucky ones—they know who they are...” Noir listens to the miserable sigh that comes out of her, stares at the glum look on her face. Looks back over to Mya, then, to Jordan, then, to Mya again. He feels his heart squeeze uncomfortably as he types out his next words—Ironically, that’s normal. You just gotta keep going if you wanna learn more. Same as everything else. But that isn’t why... What if she doesn’t like my voice? Marie’s eyebrows raise in surprise when she reads that. She can’t help chuckling, it blurts out of her. And when he pulls his phone quickly away from her and turns back to face forward again, she is just as quickly apologising. “I’m sorry, I really am, but that’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever read. And it came from you.” She chuckles again when he snaps his head towards her, able to somehow feel his glare on her. “I’m sure she won’t hate your voice. Anyway, hasn’t she heard you from old videos? There’s no fucking way she didn’t look up old videos of you just to hear your voice or get a glimpse of your face. Girls are like that. But don’t tell her I told you...please.” Noir glances at Marie, who is smiling knowingly to herself, pretending not to look back at him from the corner of her eye as she stares back down into the small throngs of people gathered below. Marie smirks to herself when he huffs and grabs his phone back from his pocket and begins typing. It’s not the same. I was young. And your voice always sounds different when recorded. Marie scoffs out a laugh, but nods and says, “True.” With another huff, Noir types out that he will think about it, shows her, glares at her through his mask when she grins mischievously and nods, then, slinks passed her with another huff. Marie chuckles, shaking her head as she watches him go. Noir makes his way over to the tiny box room he and Mya and Emma share. No fucking door for him to even close for any kind of privacy. Fuck, it’s a long way down from his usual lavish apartment up at the Vaught tower. But he would literally live in a cardboard box if it meant getting to be with Mya for the rest of his days. But fuck, that’s not the point, the point is that he should be looking after her and he isn’t! “You’re doing the b-b-beeest that you can.” Noir scoffs loudly. Gloved hands slapping together as he signs, ‘Is that why you’re still fucking stuttering?!’ Buster Beaver shrivels back into the corners of his mind. Noir sighs in defeat and guilt. Mumbles a sorry in his head, lets his head fall limp between his shoulders when he gets no reply this time. After a moment, he grabs his phone again, this time, checking for any updates online or any sign of Homelander coming after him. It’s been a little over a week since he nearly fucking died for real, and Noir isn’t taking any fucking chances when— No fucking way... Noir almost crushes his phone in his hands as the anger rises so suddenly in him. Though, after the first A-Train (before Reggie), he really doesn’t know why he’s so surprised.

Meanwhile...

“I bet Dakota Bob is a fucking demon from Hell, he’s working for fucking Vaught behind closed doors. God! Is anyone on our fucking side?!” Jordan slaps their phone down onto the desk, leans back in their seat and lets out a loud and hopeless sigh. “I hope Annie and the others are OK...maybe not Butcher.” Emma mutters as she shovels a handful of Skittles into her mouth. Jordan scoffs in amusement. Mya perches herself on the corner of the desk, grabs up Jordan’s phone to take a look for herself. She smiles in relief as she watches the video playing. Says, “Well, at least Homelander seems fully occupied with his son.” “Oh, good. That’s one less thing to worry about out of the billion others currently pending on the waiting list.” Jordan airs with some real relief of their own, though, their tone is mostly filled with more sarcasm than usual. “Oh, shit...” Mya breathes. “Oh, shit?” Emma slowly looks up from the ratty couch just two feet away, glances over at Jordan, who lifts their head and asks in a dreaded tone, “What now?” Mya’s eyes dart around the screen, but—“This doesn’t say ‘live’ anywhere...” “‘Cause it’s not. That video’s from yesterday morning.” Jordan tells her, stares warily at her and waits for her to continue. Mya shows Emma first, holds the screen out towards her. Emma’s eyes slowly widen as she whispers, “Oh, shit...” “Wha—“ Jordan pauses when Mya turns and shows them the screen, too. Stares calmly and mutters, “Oh, shit.” “What the fuck is going on?” Emma hauls herself up from the couch, the three of them now huddling around Jordan’s phone as Emma then asks, “Did I or did I not see your hunky bf standing up on the balcony talking to Marie just minutes ago? Does he have super speed, too?” “No.” Mya breathes shakily. Jordan shoots her blonde (and very stoned) friend a withered look as they say, “Are you fucking simple? They’ve clearly replaced his ass. They did it with A-Train back in the 90s.” “Oh.” Emma mumbles. Nods. Then, glances between her two friends as she asks, “Well, what does this mean?” “Nothing good.” Jordan says as they stare at the screen—the new Black Noir standing next to The Deep, behind Homelander who is still showing off his son like a fucking trophy. “Here.” Mya hands Jordan their phone back and hops off the desk. “Whoa. Wait, where are you going?” Jordan asks, quickly leaping in front of her. “I gotta find Noir.” Mya tells her. Jordan relaxes. Nods and with a sheepish smile, says, “I thought you were gonna go do something stupid.” “No, I’ll leave that up to you supes, thanks.” Mya shoots them a cheeky grin before brushing lightly passed as Jordan flips her a middle finger. At the bottom of the stairs, Mya almost bumps into Marie, who looks worried as she then asks, “Hey, you OK?” Mya nods. Says, “Go talk to Jordan. They’ll tell you. I gotta find Noir—do you know where he went?” Marie nods. Points a thumb behind her as she says, “Still upstairs, as far as I can tell, anyway.” She chuckles and adds, “He really is like a ninja.” Mya plasters on a smile, nods and waits for Marie to give her shoulders the usual soft squeeze before she watches the younger girl walk over to their friends. Mya quickly jogs up the metal steps and charges as silently as she can down the corridor and towards theirs and Emma’s room. “Oh, thank fuck, you’re still here.” Mya lets out a loud sigh of relief. Leans against the doorway with a smile and to secretly steady herself from her almost panic attack. Noir tilts his head. Signs to her, ‘Of course I’m still here. What’s wrong?’ “Worried.” Mya mumbles as she signs word back at him (it’s instinctual sometimes.) ‘It’s gonna be OK. I’m not gonna let Homelander hurt you. Not like he hurt me. I’ll rip his guts out, like he did to me, before he can go anywhere near you.’ Mya tilts her head...and just as quickly as her heart starts to speed up, she is taking a deep breath to fool even herself as she smiles brightly back at him and says, “I know.” She gasps when he is suddenly in front of her. Chuckles nervously, but covers herself by lightly slapping his chest and telling him, “You know I hate it when you do that.” He tilts his head, and somehow, something in her knows, because her heart is seizing up with no control, this time, and suddenly, his gloved hand is around her neck, squeezing hard. “Ah, shit.” He says. Mya chokes after sucking in a small gasp of shock. Even if her body knew, her mind is still slowly catching up. “I spent so fucking long studying his character; learning everything about him. And I was able to fool the entire world, but not you. Not his girl. Which isn’t really a problem, but it’s...it’s disheartening, y’know? It’s like, if I can’t even fool those who truly know him, then what am I even good for and do I even really deserve to be here in The Seven?” All Mya can think while wheezing and sputtering is that he talks way too fucking much and clearly loves the sound of his own needy whiny voice. Nothing like her Earving’s sweet voice (which she still secretly obsesses over; still watches that video of his first solo interview every night before she goes to sleep...) “Shit, listen to me going on, huh?” He chuckles, drags her over towards the bed. He then pauses when she whimpers, widens his eyes and tells her, “Whoa, hey, I’m not gonna rape you or anything. Don’t worry. I’m just here to kill you, and then, kill the Original Noir. Oh, I’ll probably have to kill all your friends here, too.” He even smiles sheepishly, absurdly adds, “Sorry about that. Orders.” Mya chokes and coughs when he flings her to sit on the bed. Turns quickly to face him. He holds up a finger and tells her, “Scream and I’ll kill you. Obviously.” “Obviously.” Mya crones back dryly. Arches a brow and says, “Why am I not dead then? What’s your amazing plan? Gonna torture me in front of him, or torture him in front me? Or are you—“ “Nah. I tried all that. Torture doesn’t really get me hard. Only murder does the job.” “Oh. OK...” Mya is caught of guard by his rather chipper but bold openness. Maybe he’s actually the kind of crazy Earving only thinks he is (bless his gentle heart.) He stands in front of her and rather pleadingly asks her, “What was it that tipped you off? How’d you know I wasn’t really him?” Then, he scoffs and quickly adds, “And don’t gimme all that bullshit about ‘true love knows no bounds.’” Mya almost chuckles at his keenness. This is all so fucking surreal. He’s fucking asking her for tips on acting. Is he fucking serious? He must be, because he’s staring at her silently waiting from behind the mask, hands on both hips, as if expecting her to fucking help him. “Umm...go fuck yourself?” Mya says firmly after a moment, smiles pleasantly up at him. He wipes the smile from her pretty face when he suddenly darts down and grips her tightly by the throat again. Though, much to his annoyance, he doesn’t hear true fear in her speeding pulse. Nor does he see anything but defiance and smugness on her face when she stares back up at him with his hand still wrapped around her neck. “Oh, I will after I’m done with you and your lover boy.” He smugly retorts, then, glares at her through his mask when she chokes out an “ew” and stares back at him with disgust. “You smart-arse little whore. I’ll fucking show you about ‘ew!’ when my fucking fist rearranges your—ghhh!” Mya sucks in a sharp breath when he is suddenly yanked back from her. Her eyes dart over to see Earving with both arms wrapped around the new Noir’s neck. “Fuck you, bro!” New Noir grips the first arm around his throat he can latch onto and squeezes until he hears a crack. Mya grits her teeth and winces as Earving yanks both his arms back with a heavy breath escaping his lips. She knows he barely feels pain after what Soldier Boy did to him, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel it for him. More importantly, it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t still get broken. Earving stares back at the new Noir as he cracks his arm back into place, already feels it healing slowly but surely as he uses it to distract. His other hand then coming up to punch him square in the face. Mya scrambles back over to the other side of the bed when they begin to wrestle at each other. Earving grips new Noir’s ankle when he suddenly levitates, yanks him roughly back to the floor, smashing the concrete with his face as he does. New Noir groans and rolls onto his back. Kicks out Old Noir’s right leg. Earving stumbles, but quickly rights himself, summersaulting tightly and neatly above new Noir before landing hard on his right ankle. “AHRRGGHHH! FUCK!!” Mya winces instinctively for him, though, just barely. She can’t help feeling a great deal of satisfaction. Though, her smirk drops when Earving shifts quickly and grabs the new Noir’s neck with both hands, ready to snap. “Wait!” She can’t help it. She may hate these fucking supes for what they did to him, but this guy isn’t Soldier Boy; the one true person she actually wishes a thousand fucking deaths upon for what he did to Earving. She may not be a good person, but she sure as shit isn’t evil. Not like they are. And not like Earving thinks he is. And she knows that he really isn’t, because without even questioning her, Earving is pulling his hands away from the new Noir’s throat. (Real) Noir huffs at the wheezing idiot who dared to even touch his girl. Then, swirls on his spot and neatly knocks him the fuck out with one swift kick to the head.