He carries me inside princes style, making sure to activate the electric lock when the door slides close behind us, he swivels around in circles for a moment once we are inside. With one arm still around me he pulls my bag away from me to get to my tarp which he lays over a large chair in a small living room.
“Are okay sweet girl?” He hums in a surprisingly soft voice. His other hand comes back, this time to rest on my back where it begins drawing small circles there. “Would you be okay if I set you down? Your legs are trembling so I don’t think you’d be okay on your own.”
I want to yell at him that I’m fine but I just nod, not wanting to bring out his psychotic side if he wants to be this nice now. He sets me down gently, as if he is worried I might break. I pull my arms away once I know I won’t hit the ground, this is embarrassing enough.
“I’m going to go start a bath for you, okay? Will you be okay by yourself? No one can get in here so you’ll be completely safe,” Even with his kind tone and soft eyes, I know what he is really saying. Can I trust you not to make a run for it? You can’t get out anyway.
“Where are we?” I wonder, though a quick glance around makes it obvious.
“We are home! I’ll give you a full tour after you are all clean.”
There is a knock on the door across the apartment. His happy face falls for just a moment, his hard gaze is a silent warning to keep my mouth shut. I’m not an idiot, unless it is Queen Maze on the other side of that door, no one can help me. He turns and strides across the apartment to the front door, leaving me in the bedroom area. I curl in on myself in the large chair, with it already facing away from the door, I’m hidden from anyone coming in. Out in front of me is a better view of the city than I ever thought I would see.
Behind me there is a large, California king bed with dark blue bedding, on the other side of it are open double doors that lead to a black marble bathroom. There is a room divider separating the living room and the bedroom made of horizontal slats, almost like floor to ceiling wooden blinds. Through them I can see a bit into the kitchen and entryway.
Homelander is at the door talking to someone. I shift forward slightly hoping to peek at who could be there but Homelander’s large frame is taking up the door way. Relaxing back into my seat I stare out the window again, the idea briefly pops into my head to make a run for the balcony. That is just as quickly denied. If there is even a chance that I could break the two inch thick glass in between me and that edge and jump over, Homelander could follow me over and catch me before I even hit the ground. Getting me on his shit list for not even a guarantee of death. No thanks. I should see what my chances are here first.
I’m so lost in my head I don’t even notice him approaching me again, a small smile on his face. He crouches down next to my chair, “If you could have any meal in the world right now, what would it be?”
To say that question didn’t surprise me, would be the biggest lie I ever told. “Um… I don’t really care, anything is fine.”
“I’m sorry, the kitchen is all out of anything,” His tone isn’t confident, the delivery wasn’t the greatest but that was a fucking dad joke.
“Chicken noodle soup,” I blurt out, unsure of what could settle in my stomach after not eating in so long.
“That’s it?”
I nod.
“Anything to drink?”
“A coke?”
He shakes his head, “No caffeine. How about a sprite?”
“That works too,” I hesitate the next words out of my mouth but I’m sure he would want to hear it, “Thank you.”
Homelander is grinning ear to ear, “Such good manners! I knew you had them!”
Fucking prick.
He is off again, back at the door to finish up his conversation. A few minutes later he comes back with bags in his hands but heads straight to the bathroom, so I wait. The bath is running and the bags are crinkling. I’m sweating now. What the fuck is he planning on doing? His promise of bad things he could do without killing me comes into my head again and suddenly panic is setting in and the idea of jumping out of the window seems like a good idea. Death I’m not afraid of, but rape and torture, has me shaking.
Fuck!
“Woah, woah, woah, what’s getting you all riled up little one?” He coos as he returns from the bathroom.
Of course, mother fucker has super hearing doesn’t he?
Homelander comes around the chair and uses a red gloves hand to brush a few curls out of my face, “Your heart is beating like a rabbits. Tell me, what’s wrong?”
“What are you going to do to me?” I ask in a surprisingly strong voice.
“I’m running a bath so we can get you all cleaned up? Do you not like baths?”
I consider lying and saying yes, I’m terrified of baths and I could pray to someone that he would just let me take a shower myself. But lying to the most powerful man in the world seems like a bad idea so I don’t.
“I don’t feel comfortable with you seeing me naked.”
He laughs, “Don’t you worry sweet girl! I already thought of that!” With ease, he scoops me up, tarp and all, and carries me to the bathroom where I find the bathtub partially full, piles of bubbles on top of the water. “The bubbles will hide your modesty the first few times until you feel comfortable.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better. I would be much more comfortable taking a bath by myself, please?” I throw in the polite tone and the please for even the smallest chance he might agree.
“And I would be much more comfortable sitting next to the tub to make sure you aren’t causing any trouble. Who do you think has more say here?”
Even with his sweet tone I gulp, “You do.”
“So smart. Now I’m going to set you down, will you be okay to stand on your own?”
I nod.
He sets me down on my own two feet, “Now since you were honest with me about how you felt, I will turn around so you can get into the bath, okay? But I don’t want to hear any funny business, and I hope you know, I can hear everything.”
“Yes.”
With that settled he turns around in the door way so he is facing the bedroom. I hesitate there, my eyes scanning over my new surroundings for the off chance there is a better escape option but once again, other than killing myself, I’m shit out of luck. The white marble floor is cold beneath my feet, contrasting from the warmth of the living space. My eyes scan up the high walls that are covered in black marble, the same white and black contrast goes through out the whole bathroom from the white sink and its’ black base to the massive white tub to the black glass shower. I can’t help but stare in awe at such a large bathroom. The water is almost full in the tub, I step up on to the platform it’s on to test the water. It’s warm against my hand. The plastic bags he had been carrying are lying next to the tub, A part of me wants to peak but he would hear the bag.
“Are you getting in?” He wonders with his back towards me. “I’m counting to five before I just do it myself.”
I panic.
“One.”
I scramble to get my clothes off and throw them into a hazardous pile on the floor.
“Two. Three.”
I’m dipping my foot in, making sure to make an extra splash for him to hear.
“Are you in?”
When I am fully submerged up to my collar bone I sigh, “Yes.”
“Good!” He spins around and comes to join me by taking seat on the edge of the platform. He makes himself comfortable, arm resting on the ledge, chin resting on his arm as if we are lovers enjoying a nice night. In the bath I am able to sit with my legs fully stretched out and my back resting along the curve of the tub wall. It’s a comfortable place to be, minus the psycho in a costume who is just staring at me. His head cocks to the side as he stares.
“What?” I wonder as I try to figure out what has his attention so fixed.
He sighs, “Nothing, I just enjoy looking at you.”
“Why?”
“Because you are just so nice to look at. I’m not usually a fan of people like you and the last plain person I,” He hesitates, “That I, um, thought was interesting looked nothing like you.”
I raise a brow at that, “Do you often pick up women and do this to them?”
“No! You are the first women to come this far into my home.”
“What made me so special?” I mean it as a joke, I’m not special, I’m sure I’m just the next victim on his list. He doesn’t take it as a joke, his eyes shift into something so much more serious than he has been this whole time.
“Everyone else wants something from me. You saw me and didn’t ask for anything even when you needed help as a homeless person on the street but you didn’t expect anything from me. You told me to fuck off. People here are so fucking greedy, it’s disgusting. Just fat old pigs and hags who want me to do nothing but stand there and smile while they keep making more and more useless money. People on the street just want me so they can take pictures for fucking twitter or instagram, they want to be saved so they can tell everyone. But you, you need me to save you. You need someone to look after you and protect you, and make sure you get enough sleep, and enough food. I don’t want to save those fuckers out there, the only person I want to save is you.”
Oh fucking shit, he’s crazier that I thought. This guy thinks he’s some almighty god that everyone wants, but the more I actually think about it he is right. He is Homelander, America’s greatest hero! And also a closeted sociopath. Just fucking great.
He places a hand on my cheek, “You are the one good thing I have in my life now.”
I can’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth, “You don’t even know who I am. Like you haven’t even asked me my name or how I ended up on the street. I’m a terrible person, I’ve done some crazy stuff for drugs, does that not disgust you?”
“I’m so sorry, please, sweet girl, what is your name?”
“Natasha…”
Homelander just beams at me, “That’s a beautiful name. Look Natasha, from how you respond to me I know you know that I’m not the great person in the world, strongest, without a doubt but I have let a lot of people die and killed a lot of people without any regret so you don’t have to worry about me judging you for things you have done in the past. As long as you are honest with me, we won’t have any troubles!” He pats me cheek gently before moving to grab stuff from the bag, he pulls out some kind of shampoo and conditioner for curly hair and a men’s body wash. “I’m not sure if these will work for you, I ordered these for you from just what I could remember of you from a few hours ago. This is mine, I considered getting you some of the normal women’s soaps but they just smell terrible so you can just smell like me.”
Without missing a beat he removes his gloves and pulls up the sleeves of his uniform. A rag appears in his hand next, I curl in on myself, my skin crawls at the idea of him scrubbing me down. He is quick to notice my distress and does his best to calm me.
“Since it’s your first bath time, I’ll let you clean yourself under the water but I get to help with your arms and your back. And there will be no ifs, ands or buts about me washing your hair, understand?”
I just nod. There isn’t really any room for argument with him.
“You know you are allowed to talk,” He points out as he squirts some of the body wash on to the wet rag and lathers it up before hold out his hand expectantly for my arm. I give it to him.
“I know. I just don’t know what to say,” I admit, looking away from the solid grip he has on my limb. I wait for pain or something but his touch is gentle, firm but he rubs the soap over my skin with just enough force to get the grime off my skin.
“We can talk about whatever you want.”
“Can I ask what you are going to do to me?”
He chuckles, “Of course, but I already told you. I’m going to take care of you. Today after your bath, I’m going to get you dressed, you are going to have a late lunch and then you are going to take a quick nap. After your nap we are going to talk about you and what you like so I can send that intern to get a few more things for you and by that time it will be dinner and bedtime.”
I hum, thinking his words over, he’s treating me like a child. Don’t tell me he has some daddy kink he needs to work out. I’ve had enough shit in my life from my actual dad, I don’t need this traumatic shit on top of it. I consider just asking to leave but I know that won’t fucking work. I just watch him as he happily works on my other arm now, the clean part of my skin are slightly pink from the amount of scrubbing needed but it is nice to see my natural brown complexion without any dirt on it. My skin has gotten much darker than my natural light brown skin tone from months of sitting in the summer sun.
Homelander seems happy too. He marvels at my clean arms for a few moments before asking me to turn away from him so he can clean my upper back.
“You are so thin,” He states as his fingers run along the top of my spine until his finger hits the water.
“That’s what happens when you live on the street for as long as I have.”
He’s silent for a moment.
“Well never again.”
I scoff, “Are you really going to keep me forever?”
“That’s the plan.”
“What if I misbehave?” I look over my shoulder at him when his response isn’t as instances, he’s just staring again.
For the third time, he pets my head, “I will discipline you accordingly. But only if you misbehave.”
“Will you kill me?”
“If I wanted to kill you, I would have left your body parts in the pile I left of those drug dealers.”
I nod, taking that as my cue to shut my mouth.
He continues with his work, setting the rag aside to reach for the shampoo. “Lay back and get your hair wet.”
I sink deeper into the warm water, tipping my head back so my curls can have a much needed cleaning. With my head dipped back into the water I feel myself disconnecting with the world and allowing myself to some what relax. After a few measured breaths I sit back up, he’s staring again as if in a trance. My fingers do a half assed attempt at running my hands through my curls, there are too many knots for me to do it successfully.
“Do you have a brush?” I ask hopefully.
Silently he digs through the bag and holds a regular hair brush out to me. I take it and grit my teeth as I begin raking the thing through my hair, brushing out wads of dead hair and knots. It takes me at least five minutes to get through it all and by the ends my arms are hurting, Homelander hasn’t been able to look away.
“I would really like to help you next time,” He informs me as he takes the brush away.
I nod, “It will be a lot easier next time, it’s been at least half a year since I last brushed my hair, I just thankful I don’t have to shave it again. The tiny Afro I had was nice for the summer but my hair brings me a lot of warmth in the winter.”
“How long were you living on the street?”
“About six years now.”
“Why so long? Didn’t you ever consider getting a job so you could get off the street?”
“By the time I was old enough to get a job I was already so used to where I was that I didn’t really see the need to change anything. I was high all the time and didn’t mind sleeping with a trap and a blanket in a random alley.”
He moves to stand behind me, his hands lathered with vanilla scented shampoo, his long fingers just tangle into my curls at the root and slowly work their way to the ends that stop a few inches down my back. “You have such pretty curls.”
All I can do is say, “Thank you.”
“You can dip your head back.”
I do.
When I come back up he already had the conditioner in his hands, he repeats the same process as before. It’s not as weird as I thought it would be, sure I’m still anxious and naked in a bath tub with some low key daddy kink supe, but when Iook at him he’s not staring into the water to catch a peek, he’s staring at my face or my hair. Weird, but not absolutely terrible just yet. We let the conditioner sit for a few moments as I drag my hands through the bubble, picking up a handful like I see in movies and blowing them away like flower petals. It’s much less glamorous than in the movies but it’s still funny, Homelander finds it adorable and does it back to me.
I dip my head back in.
“Okay, now just as promised I am going to let you wash the rest of yourself. Since you are feeling bashful I’ll give you five minutes to enjoy bath time by yourself. I’m going to be in the living room, I’ll let you know when your time is up. I’ll bring you a towel and some clean clothes, okay?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.”
I bite my tongue.
He stands up, handing me the rag and the body wash before heading into the bedrooms to do god knows what. When I know he is out of site I take the body wash and scrub the rest of myself clean for the first time in forever. It only takes a minute to clean myself up, I use the rest of my time to float in that surreal place in the water. I let myself tip back and actually enjoy my time in the water, my ears plug, my body warm, and my eyes closed. I could stay here forever but I know it won’t last, I have at most another minute before he comes in to tell me my time is done. He will come back up, I’ll listen to whatever he says and he will call me a good girl again.
“Fucking prick,” I mumble softly under my breath.
