Fate's a bitch for sure. That was something William Butcher had always known, yet the truth of that cynical thought became apparent again as he found himself standing in front of a large cage in the backroom of their appartement serving as the base location of the boys. "So you've been a bloody supe all along, ya spineless cunt.", Butcher grumbled through gritted teeth, his anger more directed at himself than the person in the cage. How could he have not noticed? How could he grew attached?