Then Translucent turned, shifting his focus to Butcher—
Too late.
Butcher was already behind him.
A splash of blood hit, spreading across the invisible outline, tracing the shape that hadn’t been there a second ago.
"There you are," Butcher said, voice low.
He grabbed hold and drove him forward, smashing his head straight into the nearest surface.
The impact carried through the shelves, plastic cracking as the invisible shape buckled forward under Butcher’s grip. Blood hung in the air, outlining just enough of him to track.
Butcher shifted his hold and drove him down again, using the edge of a display to force the angle, keeping contact so he couldn’t slip free.
"Got you now, you slippery cunt," he muttered.
Translucent thrashed, the air warping around him as he tried to slip free, but the blood gave him shape and Butcher kept hold, shifting with every movement so he couldn’t vanish proper.
Then a punch cracked into Butcher’s ribs.
His grip loosened a fraction.
Translucent twisted, turning toward him, voice sharp and close. "Fuck you... who the fuck are you lot?"
Butcher spat blood, straightened, and gave a crooked grin like he’d been hit less than that before breakfast.
"Fucking clever," he said, rough London bite in every word. "Translucent don’t mean invisible, you dumb cunt."
The distortion snapped again as Translucent moved, fast and messy, strikes coming from nowhere he could track.
Then Butcher’s eyes flicked past him.
Behind Translucent, Mark was hauling himself up.
Slow.
Eyes lit red.
Butcher’s grin sharpened.
"Oi," he said, glancing at Hughie. "down."
Red beams tore forward.
They hit square, lighting up the blood across Translucent’s body and outlining him clear for a split second before the force drove him straight into the wall.
Mark kept pushing, another blast hammering him deeper, cracks spreading out through plaster and concrete.
"You fucker," Mark said, stepping in. "You think I’m some kind of piñata you can crack open?"
The wall fractured further under the pressure, the impact ringing through the shop as Translucent stayed pinned, visible just enough to hit.
"I’ll fucking kill you," Mark snapped, not letting up, "and make a suit out of your fucking skin."
Hughie pushed himself up, shaking, and stared at the scene in front of him—the beams, the destruction, and the guy from the news the last two days, the one everyone was calling a criminal, standing right there in front of him.
What the fuck?
"Oi—oi, oi, easy!" Butcher barked, stepping in fast and grabbing Mark by the shoulder, shoving him back a half-step. "That’s enough, mate."
The beams cut off.
Butcher crouched slightly, eyes locked on the shape on the floor, breathing steady, thinking it through.
"Don’t kill him," he said, sharp now. "Not here. Not like this."
He glanced at the damage—the shattered displays, the wrecked wall, Hughie still standing there like he’d just walked into the wrong reality.
"You kill one o’ the Seven in a bloody shop, whole world comes crashin’ down on us in five minutes flat," Butcher went on. "We do it smart, yeah? We take him somewhere quiet."
He nudged the invisible body with his boot, checking.
"Besides," he added, a grin creeping back, "I’ve got questions for this invisible cunt."
Hughie looked between them, still trying to catch up.
"This—this wasn’t part of the plan," he said.
Butcher glanced at him.
"Welcome to the job," he replied.
***
Butcher hauled the invisible weight across the floor, grip locked in where the blood gave it shape, then dragged it out to the car and dumped it into the back like it was just another piece of junk.
Hughie stood there, staring, trying to process any of it.
"You—you said you were FBI, yeah?" he asked, voice shaky. "Since when do FBI agents run around kidnapping people and works with criminals?"
Butcher shut the trunk with a solid thud and turned to him, expression flat.
"Yeah, well," he said, "that bit’s flexible."
Hughie took a step back. "No—no, I’m not part of this. I didn’t sign up for any of this."
Butcher moved closer, not raising his voice, which somehow made it worse.
"Yeah, you are," he said. "You walked into Vought Tower, planted a bug, got yourself followed by one of the Seven, and now he’s in the back of my car."
Hughie shook his head. "I didn’t know—"
"Doesn’t matter what you knew," Butcher cut in. "What matters is what it looks like."
He leaned in slightly.
"From their point of view, you’re the bloke who compromised one of their own."
Hughie went still.
Butcher’s tone didn’t change.
"And if we let him go, you think he forgets that?" he said. "You think he don’t go back, have a little chat, point you out?"
Hughie swallowed.
"Next thing you know, they’re at your door," Butcher went on. "You, your dad—everyone you know—done. Quiet, clean, no one asks questions."
Silence stretched for a second.
Then Butcher straightened.
"So," he said, "you come with us, you help us handle this, or you can stand here and wait for that knock."
Hughie didn’t answer.
*****
A/N: Advanced Chapters are available on Patreon.
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