Chapter Text
For a moment, a singular, glorious moment, Hughie is weightless.
Then he falls. He doesn't drop the grip he has on Anthony, even if the man is proving himself to be utterly stupid given his choice of companions, but it's not like he wouldn't join them if he had been given the chance. Not when it was for Robin.
Just like running through the compound, a poorly labeled prison, is for Anthony.
This is either the stupidest thing Hughie has ever done, or Anthony has become a master manipulator, and it isn't his fault. Imagining Anthony as having any actual intelligence right now is getting more and more difficult the closer to the outside world Hughie gets.
He's shut down the power, ensuring several doors are locked shut along with the disabled cameras, but this place wasn't meant to hold a supe. Let alone one at Hughie's caliber, especially given breaking in and out of things is his specialty.
Unfortunately, he can't bring Anthony out that way, so he's stuck running through the halls desperately hoping against hope that nothing happens. Or Anthony's friends come in wish fulfillment style.
That's not going to happen, though.
Anthony isn't a high level prisoner, though, because the only thing he's good for is intimidating the rest of Anthony's group, no one expecting them to come for him. Good for Hughie, given he didn't have practice breaking people out of prisons.
He's surprisingly good at it.
Anthony hums in his arms, too out of it to actually take in the way Hughie is risking his life for him. Actually, Anthony would like that. Want that, maybe. Or maybe he would hate it like he hates Hughie, now, like he wanted Hughie to be the one run over, because then he'd have a chance. Never mind that Hughie can still be killed.
It's whatever, though. Or it should be. Hughie can't help the apology that spills out, even if he knows it isn't his fault. Guilt is a powerful thing.
He phases through the wall to grab the emergency exit switch, well aware he is both opening the main door and sending out an alert as he does it. It's running on a backup generator, but that's okay. Given the pretty car he's stolen from some asshole he doesn't care to remember, they'll be out of here before the heroes can really get here.
Homelander could be here in an instance, but he won't think this is big enough, not if he's caught up with Butcher. Or the alert from Vogelbaun Hughie's faked sending him far away. A-Train could be here, but that would require him to wave off the message from his brother. It's a little harsh to use his brother against him, but it's a little harsh to kidnap his best friend. Former best friend? He doesn't know.
Anthony won't be able to answer that until he wakes up. Hughie peels out of the parking lot (he guesses the staff need to park somewhere) in his new fancy ride, already seeing the police in the rearview. Well.
One thing that's fun about supes, is they often have a higher than normal reaction speed. One thing about stealing cars from supes, especially well funded hero supes, is that they design for these sorts of things. In other words, Hughie has ripped off the parking lot, spun around the police cars, and hit the gas before they can pull to a stop.
Truly, the previous owner has at last done something right with his life.
It's not much of a chase, not when the police are averted easily, and then the car is recognized, and people think it's some Vought super driving.
Hughie pulls to a stop in some ditch several dirt roads down from the highway. He wipes the car down, removing any blood and fingerprints from its surface. Then he hopped into the next car he's got, this one rented, and dragged Anthony with him, taking more time to clean him up a bit, switching clothes. He'll take a bit to throw away the clothes. Then, when Anthony looks less like the man in the wanted posters and more like a decent citizen, Hughie goes the separate way around the area, and starts driving to the local grocery store.
Anthony wakes up part way there. He wakes up quickly, no doubt a consequence of his experience with Butcher. He used to wake up slowly, grumbling throughout the day if they ever woke him up before noon. No change in that, Hughie supposes.
“What the fuck…?” Anthony murmurs. Truly his vocabulary has only improved. Not.
The guilt is a second skin, but Hughie shoves that aside. He knows it's not his fault. Apologizing now will just make Anthony angrier. Or it would have. So much has changed since Robin died.
That particular spiral is one Hughie has chased after before, and one he doesn’t have time for right now.
“Where the hell are we going?” He asks, thankfully not fully alarmed.
Hughie responds this time. “We’ll circle back home soon. Just have to make a stop.”
Anthony nods. Something inside Hughie uncurls. He still trusts him.
Hughie gets off at the store, hides Anthony, and then ducks inside. There's been a shortage of Yogurt in any other store lately, so that’s an excuse why he’s even here. There’s a half balled up receipt in his pocket that’s been printed out of a stop at a gas station. He makes a point to check out the dairy section, ask if the yogurt’s there, ask when it’s next in, and be as friendly as possible. Most likely they won’t remember him at all. But it’s a small store, family run, so they might. It’s small, which means less cameras. Maybe even none. He buys a packet of sour keys for Anthony anyway, because he’s not buying the stupid dark chocolate blueberries for him. Ever. The receipt has the time. Good.
It joins the second receipt in his pocket, the one with the time of an hour ago printed neatly. Maybe they should make receipt paper less easy to get. Then again, it’s a backup for a backup, so it might not even pass muster.
At the very least he has a story of why he’s this far out, one his dad will believe and back up, even if others think it’s ridiculous.
Anthony glares at him when he gets in the car. He doesn’t try to talk to him or anything, so Hughie figures that’s a bonus. Or a penalty. He can’t figure that one out. Better than an argument or accusations, but worse than the easy comradery they once had. Hughie had hoped the breakout would inspire some confidence, but it seems it didn’t.
Once they’re on the road though, Hughie hands him the burner phone he’s gotten from another state. He’s already tampered with it, of course, ensuring that it’s less traceable than before. Just because Hughie can probably escape any situation he finds himself in does not mean Anthony can.
Anthony stares at it for a moment. “They might have changed numbers again.” He says. There's no doubt who they’re talking about. Hughie shrugs. There's no good answer to that.
Anthony types a number out. Then another. Sometimes it rings, sometimes it doesn’t. No one answers until they’re on the fifth exit.
The answer they do get is said by the most dehydrated sounding man Hughie has ever heard. “ What .”
Anthony grins now, looking a lot better. “Hey fucker, guess who lived?” Hughie smothers the laughter that erupts, deafening it into small giggles. Anthony shoots him a triumphant grin before he remembers he’s supposed to hate him, and the glare is back. It doesn’t matter to Hughie, it’s proof he’s back. Proof Hughie has a chance at forgiveness.
“Anthony?” Another voice chimes in, but before a response can be given the voice continues. “Who are you with?”