“My god… Can you fucking listen to me for once?!”

Homelander’s voice boomed through the room, filled with frustration and impatience. His eyes were narrowed, his hands planted firmly on his hips, exasperation radiating from every part of him. He had always expected you to follow along with his instructions—after all, he was your older brother, right? He should know better, right? You should listen to him.

But this was different. You were panicking, your powers completely out of control, and it was spiraling faster than he could process. You had always been close—before everything had changed, before he became the leader of The Seven, before the fame and responsibility clouded his every action. But now? Now, it was like something had shifted, a wall slowly building between you two.

When he was just a man—before the fame, the suits, the expectations—he would’ve been there for you in a heartbeat. He would’ve understood. You were family. But that was then, and this was now. He had responsibilities, a whole damn team to manage, and people to answer to. His priorities were different, and it wasn’t long before the distance grew. His time, once so freely given to you, was now consumed by his position, his image, his power.

But right now, you weren’t asking for The Seven’s leader—you were asking for your brother.

You were having a full-blown freak out, your powers lashing out in all directions as your emotions ran high. The room around you seemed to bend, warp, crack under the pressure of your fear and panic. And who was supposed to help you? Who was supposed to calm you down?

Homelander. He should have known what to do. He should have stepped in, used his experience, used his calm, and taken control of the situation. But instead, all he was doing was making it worse. His anger, his frustration, was only adding to the tension in the air, and his words only seemed to feed into your panic rather than quell it.