Work Text:
The Matter of Blindspot
Stan Edgar watched Ashley Barrett enter his office. "Have a seat, Ms. Barrett. My time is limited, but as you said it was an emergency I felt compelled to make room for you. Could you tell me what's happened?"
The redheaded woman gave him a brief account of a meeting between herself, Homelander, and an unaffiliated supe named Blindspot that ended with the latter suffering a career-ending injury at the hands of the head of the Seven, who implicitly threatened the former if she didn't spy on upper management for him. The tremors of fear in her arms and hands remained visible and her face was bloodless.
Edgar suppressed a sigh. Typical—all Homelander knew was how to react without thought. "I suppose if he wants to know what's going on in the executive suite, it doesn't need to be protected. Heaven knows he can listen in anyway if he likes. What action did you take regarding Blindspot?"
"As soon as Homelander left I put in a call for a Compound V shot to be delivered to the training room with all speed. I wasn't sure Blindspot would know this—do you remember how we used to spell out things on someone else's palm when we were little?" He gave her an encouraging nod, even though he'd never done that. "I wasn't sure Blindspot would know that, but apparently he was quite prepared. I told him a Compound V shot was coming and would fix the injury and he said thanks. The shot was administered and we took him to the on-site clinic. I was told by the doctor that his eardrums should regrow and he'll have his hearing back in about a week. We're keeping him out of sight of Homelander, of course."
"Good, good," he told her. She had the look of a shy violet to her that she tried to cover by throwing herself into the corporate go-getter mold, but she kept her head in a bad situation and took appropriate action to protect the company. It brought her up a few notches in his estimation. "You did right."
"I don't understand why he did it. I've never seen him like that. How did Ms. Stillwell manage him?"
"Pardon my crudeness, Ms. Barrett, but most of the time Madelyn led him around by his dick." When she didn't say anything, he continued. "He has a mother fixation. You aren't old enough to fulfill that role for him and I assume you don't wish to sleep with Homelander."
"No. No, sir!"
The fervency of her reply amused him. It was as if he'd asked her to dine on human meat tonight. "Don't worry. It isn't a requirement of the job. May I call you Ashley?" She nodded. "I must ask if you think you can do this job knowing what you know now. This is not an isolated incident, if that's what you think. Homelander—well, this is fairly usual for him. You will be concealing this kind of thing on a regular basis if you stay."
She turned troubled pale eyes to him. "I don't think he would let me go now, since I've seen this side of him. I wouldn't be safe."
"No, but please bear in mind he was quite insistent on you taking over Madelyn's position. I had several other very qualified candidates in mind but saw no harm in giving in to him on this as you would be essentially his day-to-day handler and thought he might—calm down, so to speak, if he was working with someone he wanted in the job. Obviously my hopes were futile in that respect."
Her shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, sir."
Edgar said, "No need to apologize, Ashley. None of this was your fault. He would have shown you his true self sooner or later. What compensation package have you offered Blindspot?"
"His hearing isn't back yet and we don't have anyone on-site who can handle a Braille contract. When he can hear again, I wanted to offer a million a year for twenty years or until his death, whichever comes first, relocation to a place of his choice including paying for the purchase of a home and employment assistance, and handling of all future medical bills related to his injury. All this is of course predicated on him signing an NDA about the event, keeping a very low profile, and never engaging in superhero activity again. With your approval, naturally."
His opinion of her went up another few notches. "Good. It's what I'd have offered. If he balks, you have my authorization to go as high as two million per year, but that's the ceiling. Take it or leave it."
Ms. Barrett's breathing slowed down and color began returning to her face. "Thank you, sir. I'm still concerned about Homelander—handling him, I mean. He's terrifying."
At least she wasn't stupid. "That's something you'll have to work out on your own, but if it's needed you may tell him I've authorized something in situations where he is damaging or is about to damage his own reputation, the reputation of the Seven, or the reputation of this company. I think you'll find he's still willing to do what I tell him, even if reluctantly. I'm trusting your judgment as to when this is appropriate."
She smiled, relieved, and it gave her a transitory beauty that he hoped she was smart enough to hide from Homelander, although her unbecoming clothing told him she'd already thought of this possibility. She might not be old enough to satisfy his motherlust, but neither had Queen Maeve been, and he still pined after her. "Thank you, sir. I won't overuse it."
"See that you don't. He's far from stupid and bound to figure it out if you do." He stood, a clear signal the meeting was over. "It's been a pleasure, Ashley."
Ms. Barrett stood and said, "For me as well, Mr. Edgar." After she had closed the door behind her, he gave himself a few seconds to ponder why Homelander had been so set on this woman. Had he bought into the shy violet aspect and thought he could control her with a display of sickening violence? Or was it as simple as the supe wanting sex with her? All interesting questions, but nothing too important at the moment.
"Best of luck, Ms. Barrett," he murmured to the empty room as his secretary buzzed him for his next appointment.