Moonlight

The evening breeze still blew.

Once Homelander had had his fill, he fastened his belt.

"Let's head back."

"Don't come over and put your arm around my shoulders like we're close."

Ryan answered the friendly gesture with Laser Eyes. Red beams burst from his eyes, sending heat rising from Homelander's outstretched arm as though it were roasting.

The guy could withstand extreme heat. Even if Ryan kept at it, it would take a very long time for him to melt.

Ryan knew that. He had only wanted to stop Homelander. Afterward, he politely declined Homelander's suggestion that he do the same thing.

They flew back down to the ground.

Becca seemed to have been waiting a long time. When Ryan landed, he saw her sitting alone at the door of the little house.

She had her face buried in her hands.

"You're back."

With that, she stood, brushed the dust off her backside, and went inside.

Homelander landed behind Ryan. The two men exchanged a glance, then followed Becca in.

Nighttime was for sleeping, of course.

Ryan returned to the room he had always used. Becca seemed to have been expecting him.

His bedroom had been cleaned, so he could move right in.

Homelander was the one without a room.

"I'll wait for you in bed."

As Homelander spoke, he started undoing his buttons. He looked like he worked out often. When his clothes came off,

bulging muscles came into view.

Becca saw them, but she had no intention of sharing a room with him. She pointed outside.

"Sleep out there. You can see the stars at night."

"I want to watch you sleep tonight."

"If I see you, I'll get a headache and be up all night."

Becca would not budge. Without caring what Homelander thought, she wished Ryan good night and went to her room.

A moment later,

they heard her lock the door. Homelander froze. He raised a hand, his muscles swelling in response to his thoughts.

Standing beside him, Ryan noticed at once.

Clearly, Homelander wanted to smash the door down.

Stopping him was simple enough. Ryan understood that with strangers, sometimes you had to let your fists do the talking.

But someone troubled by his feelings could be swayed with words alone.

Ryan looked at Homelander.

"If you smash it, the family life you're hoping for will go up in smoke. Becca can hold a grudge."

"..."

After a moment of silence, Homelander lowered his hand and smiled.

"I'll sleep on the sofa. The living room's one big bedroom."

"A sofa isn't a bed."

They exchanged a few more words, but Ryan paid no further attention to where Homelander would sleep.

It was getting pretty late.

Ryan went back to his room. People needed sleep, after all.

He had stayed up through the night before, looking down at the street from a building. Around three in the morning, the world grew as quiet as if it, too, were asleep.

Back then, he had wondered whether, even if he did not need the rest, being the only one awake while darkness covered the city would make him feel lonely.

He had no such worry now. He took off his clothes and climbed into bed.

The sun rose and set.

The next day, Ryan opened his eyes with a frown.

It was not an alarm clock that had woken him, nor birds chirping outside.

It was his mother.

Rubbing his head, he got out of bed, the blanket sliding off his torso.

"What time is it?"

"Six o'clock, Ryan. I don't remember raising you to be a lazy ass who sleeps in."

"..."

There was no point arguing. Ryan sighed. He had just been about to take a morning shower when he spotted the videotape Becca was waving.

The cover was rather adult.

Ryan was puzzled.

"What's that?"

"I found it under your bed."

"Then put it back."

"No. As your parent, I need to tell you that's silicone."

"I wish you'd teach me something normal and useful."

When he talked to Becca, Ryan sometimes had trouble telling

whether he was the one with a problem, or whether she was simply too much.

He was still thinking about it when Becca tossed the videotape onto the table.

"That's what I wanted to see, Ryan. That baffled look on your face."

"What a weird thing to enjoy."

"Come on, cry because you're so touched by what your family loves."

He was not touched.

Ryan could not squeeze out a single tear. All he felt now was regret.

Maybe I shouldn't have come back.

"Becca, go make breakfast."

"Make whatever you want yourself. The nerve of you, ordering me around. Have you gotten used to having everything done for you out there?"

"Here comes the lecture."

Realizing Becca was about to go on and on, Ryan clapped his hands over his ears in despair.

But with his powers, even faint sounds reached him.

"Actually, I put the videotape there."

At her confession, Ryan repeated it back to her.

"You did that?"

"Yeah. I thought someone your age would bring tapes home and watch them in secret at night. But when I checked under your bed this morning, there was nothing there. It was too sad, so I gave you some material."

"Why would you do that?"

"Parents want to see their children grow up."

"Pay a little more attention to other kinds of growth."

After another couple of remarks, Ryan went to the bathroom. He took an ordinary morning shower, then returned to the living room.

Homelander lay on the sofa, breathing quietly with his eyes closed.

At the dining table across the room, Becca called Ryan over to eat. While she was at it, she brought up Homelander's sleeping face.

"Even the way that man sleeps makes me angry."

"Everything he does makes you angry."

"No. I'd be happy to attend his funeral."

"..."

Becca handed Ryan a plate. She had made waffles that morning, and a sweet aroma rose from them.

As she urged Ryan to eat, she went on.

"You, though, Ryan, look so vulnerable when you're asleep."

"Do I?"

"You do. Even a kid with powers as strong as yours looks like I could reach out and snap his neck when his eyes are closed."

"I think you're the dangerous one."

Becca was like that sometimes.

Scary things came out of her mouth. Ryan had lived with her long enough to be used to it.

Morning came after dawn. In the room lit by the first rays of sunlight, Ryan and Becca finished eating.

He had things of his own to do, so he decided to leave.

On his way out, he said goodbye to Becca.

In the kitchen, Becca washed the breakfast dishes, wiping the edge of a plate with a dishcloth.

"Where do you really want to go? What kind of life do you want to live? What storms do you want to weather?"

Even when she asked, Ryan could not answer right away. He leaned against the wall by the kitchen door.

His voice drifted through the open doorway.

"Next time I come, I'll buy you a dishwasher."

"Or you could come over here and wash them yourself."

"I'll buy you a dishwasher."

Ryan glanced at the time. It was time to go. He pushed off the wall and headed out.

As he passed the sofa, he saw Homelander turn over.

He was sleeping soundly.

To disturb his dreams, Ryan stuck out a foot and kicked the sofa over.

Homelander rolled off it, his head striking the corner of the table.

He smashed the corner clean off and kept rolling until he hit the wall.

The impact left a dent in it.

Only then did his brow relax and his eyes open.

"Why am I sleeping here?"

Ryan answered offhandedly.

"Being able to fall asleep anywhere is one of your strengths."

"Ryan, where are you going?"

Ryan said nothing more. He looked toward the door.