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Rotting in Vain

Who: Rory, Derek ( @derek-ghoulie ), Darius ( @sshardassanderson )

What: Rory fails a test, is punished, and gets help in an unexpected place

When: Nov 6, Evening

Where: At House of the Dead, Trailer Park, Dare’s place, Hospital

Notes: TW for a lot of violence, arson, fire, murder, kidnapping

Derek

Derek sent the message to Rory with a sharp snap of his burner and stuck it back into his pocket. He was going to put the ghoulie through the ringer tonight, and solely to see just how dedicated he was to the task. To being loyal. Derek had been doubting his loyalties from the beginning, only now he knew exactly where his daughter was, knew that he could easily gain access to her, and knew he’d have nowhere to turn to but Derek for mercy. He sat down with his dog and waited for the man to show up. If things went well then it was just icing on the cake.

Rory

Rory felt a growing sense of dread with every step he took. Hands dug deep in his pockets, he slouched all the way to his truck and took a cigarette out of his emergency pack. He didn't smoke around Grace but sometimes after a fight it helped calm him down on the ride home. Rory had been hesitant and worried about what Derek would do from the moment he'd showed up and sent everything in a whirlwind. Aaron was gone, and the girls fawned over their 'daddy' like he hadn't just leveled their normal with his new normal. Rory parked, his face a shaggy mess now that he didn't have his little girl yelling at him to trim his beard. Flicking away the cigarette, Rory walked in, doing his best not to look like he was terrified of what Derek was going to say. When he found the new boss, Rory simply nodded at him. "Hey, man. You wanted to see me?"

Derek

Staring down Rory as he entered as if he could smell the fear on him, Derek gave a curt nod and then scratched his Shepard’s head again before urging the dog to go. The dog sniffed Rory once before bounding out of the room. Derek stood up and moved into Rory’s personal space, leaving only a foot or so of distance between them. “Smoking’s gonna kill you.” He commented. “Tonight. You’re going to head over to Sunnyside trailer park. Two serpent twins are going to be coming home after a fun night, and they’re going to come to an even more fun conclusion. I want to send a very clear message to the Andersons. Go to the trailer. Seal it up with them inside, doors, windows, everything. Use this,” He kicked a canister at his side. “All around the trailer. And burn it down.”

Rory

Rory clenched his jaw, watching the dog as it moved past him. He had no doubt in his mind that it would probably attack him if Derek told it to. He had been against dogs for a reason - he hated them after he'd been attacked when he was a kid. Once it was gone, he looked up and found himself close enough to Derek to make him want to step away. Of course he couldn't. He wasn't supposed to show that kind of fear so he forced himself to stand still. "If life doesn't kill me first," he said simply. But then the instructions came and Rory looked down at the canister, knowing exactly what was in it. It played out in his head in an instant. Sealing the trailer. Setting it on fire. Hearing them scream. He couldn't do that-- he wouldn't do that. "You.. want me to set two people on fire?" He asked, perking an eyebrow. "Don't you think that's a little dramatic? I'm more of a fighter than an arsonist. I could just beat them up." It would be preferable.

Derek

For a moment, Derek leaned back, arms folded across his broad chest as he stared Rory down. It was all written across his body. Uncertainty. Fear. Resistance. It was why he targeted the daughter. She’d be safe, he wasn’t a complete monster. What he’d want in the end was Rory to suffer for what Derek was positive he’d fail at. The dog curled up into a corner, watching the scenario unfold with a protective, watchful eye. “It’s not up for you to decide if it’s dramatic or not. If I wanted them beat up, I’d send someone else. This is what I want you to do. Nobody else. And this is how I want it done.” He extended a folded up piece of paper. “I’ve marked the trailer for you. They’ll be home at 7:30 for family dinner. Maybe you’ll get lucky and the parents won’t be there too but...collateral damage happens sometimes. No survivors. No trace evidence. Am I clear?”

Rory

There wasn't much of Rory that trusted he could change Derek's mind but that didn't mean he couldn't try. However, he was quickly rebuffed and his throat went tight though he tried to train his expression not to give off the look of hopelessness. Looking down at the paper, he studiod the layout, the trailer, then he crinkled it in the palm of his hand. Holding it back out to Derek to take, he said, "No evidence." Both in agreement of his plan, and not to leave even the shred of paper behind. He looked down at the canister and tried to swallow the knot in his throat but it was a huge, arson-slash-murder sized knot. His phone buzzed and Rory took a quick glance at it. Seeing Riley's name, he declined the call. He couldn't talk right now. He needed to think. He needed to plan and process. When the call came from a second time, he switched his phone off and shoved it in his pocket. "Who are they?" he asked but immediately knew it wouldn't matter.

Derek

The paper returned to his hand and Derek nodded, tucking it away. He’d dispose of it later but he sincerely doubted this evening would play out with four dead bodies. Stone-faces, he handed the canister to Rory and watched as he switched his phone off, expectantly raising a brow as if Rory were going to explain who the hell was calling. But Derek knew. A little blonde girl was missing after all. Behind Derek was a large closet door where little Grace was napping quietly. “Serpents.” Derek answered flatly. “Why? Do you think if I said ones a pedophile you’ll have a guilt-free conscience? We all have to make bold moves in this war and that’s just what this is. Better to let that little teen bitch die than to birth another Snake-to-be.” He had no evidence that the serpent girl was pregnant but he laid on the implication thick. “No survivors. I’ll expect you back here when it’s done. Now go.”

Rory

Rory knew better than to question him. Derek wasn't the kind of man you could question. He told you what to do and you did it. That simple and that complicated. He knew when he was excused so Rory simply turned and walked outside. He held his composure climbing in the truck, kept a straight face as he started it and drove down the block, and fought back any signs of fear until he drove out of the neighborhood. Once he'd made it far enough away, he pulled over on the side of the road, balled his hands into fists, and punched the steering wheel over and over, almost wishing he could break it right off. But that wouldn't be enough of a reason to keep him from doing this, not to Derek.

He raked his hands through his hair and leaned forward, spying the canister in the floorboard. This was what he was afraid of. Aaron had never ordered him to kill someone in cold blood, and Rory was sure that he couldn't have done it even if the previous leader had. Rory knew that he was a general piece of shit human but he wasn't capable of murder. He didn't care if they were Serpents, or just Southsiders. Or Northsiders. Or anyone - he couldn't.

But what choice did he have?

Still trying to figure something out, Rory checked the time on the clock of his truck, not even venturing to turn his cell phone back on. He couldn't talk to Riley right now. What would he tell her? *Hey, sorry I missed your call but I was just given orders to filet some snakes. Catch you later?* - No. He needed to do something and he needed to do it fast. He checked traffic and pulled back onto the road, making his way to the trailer park.

Every second he came closer made the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach grow until it was an all-consuming ache that he couldn't breathe through. He couldn't kill anyone. He couldn't kill a pregnant girl. He couldn't kill. Period. Rory parked at the end of the street and sat in the truck, waiting until the time turned, all the while playing out different scenarios in his head until it hit 7:30 and he didn't have a single one that worked. No matter what he did, he was fucked. That was the thought he carried as he grabbed the canister in the darkness and tossed his third cigarette out the window. If he'd had Weston money, Rory would have just paid the family to disappear. He'd burn the place down and act surprised that no one had been there - but he didn't have that kind of money. Even with his win from the last fight, Rory had dumped it all in paying for Grace's school and buy her new things. She’d loved her new backpack and pencil case. She never had new things and he’d been so proud to buy those folders with the glossy shine. After paying his rent for the month, he was broke again.

Gripping the canister, Rory looked up at the trailer that he was supposed to hit and even though he didn’t know what he was going to do, he had to start working. The longer it took, the longer it would be before he got back to the House of the Dead. The longer he took the get back, the less Derek would trust him and no matter what, he needed to keep that trust if he was going to survive this -- if the people he loved were going to survive it. Twisting off the top, Rory hated himself as he started to splash the gasoline around the bottom of the trailer. Night had fallen enough to keep his body in shadows, especially thanks to a streetlamp that was going out on the corner. He’d actually wished it hadn’t been going out. If he was in light, someone could call the cops. Maybe that was it. If he could make enough noise, someone would hear and call the police and then he could run off without doing any of this. That wouldn’t be his fault, right? Derek wouldn’t blame him for that. But that didn’t mean Derek wouldn’t make him try again.

Still, Rory started making more noise as he walked around the house, boots crunching dead leaves as he splashed the gasoline with enough gusto that he hoped someone inside would notice. But as he made it to the back of the trailer where he’d started, it was all too obvious that no one had heard a single thing. He cursed under his breath, dropping the empty canister back on the ground at his feet. He needed to do something and he had to do it now, before it was too late.

Nervous tick alone had him playing with the lighter, flashing it for a moment before extinguishing it, and then again, over and over.

“Knew you couldn’t do it,” a voice said, stealing Rory’s attention and making him jump. He felt stupid that he’d been that distracted he hadn’t heard someone come up behind him. Or had he always been there?

Rory recognized the Ghoulie that stood there, a look in his eyes that was pure apathy. It wasn’t hate. It wasn’t happiness. He just existed and Rory knew instantly that someone like Junk wouldn’t have had a single hesitation setting the trailer on fire.

“What are you talking about?” He asked Junk, trying to act like he hadn’t been hesitating. Rory turned to face him but all his eyes could focus on was the zippo in his hand, the flame at the end. Then it all happened like it was slow motion.

The lighter was tossed, he watched it curl through the air. He hand shot out like he could stop it but it slipped by, igniting the gasoline the moment it bounced against the side of the trailer. The siding caught instantly and Rory jumped back, shielding his eyes from the heat while Junk stood admiring the chaos as the trailer went up in flames. Rory didn’t think. He charged the man and took him to the ground, punching him in the face. Blood spurted from his nose and mouth, a cut pierced over his eye. He would have kept punching if he didn’t hear screaming from inside the trailer. The first scream erupted and drew his attention. Just as he’d attacked Junk, Rory threw himself on his feet. He couldn’t let people die..

Grabbing a trashcan, he threw it through the window and then climbed in, glass piercing his arms and legs as he did. The smoke had erupted inside, billowing along the ceiling but he didn’t think. He followed the sounds of screaming and was shocked to see the younger woman standing there, cowering with.. two children. Young. Frightened.

Fuck. You. Derek.

“Come on,” Rory growled, grabbing her arm. She held the two year old that was clinging towards him and Rory scooped up the baby from the crib, hiding her inside his jacket. Covering his mouth with the other hand, Rory asked her where everyone else was when they made it to the window. She pointed down the hall and he quickly helped her out, carefully but swiftly giving her the baby that was now screaming at the top of her lungs.The heat was intense, flames catching on the couch, the walls, pictures and toys. Rory ran through it, kicked open the door and yelled at the two others that were cowering by the bed. When they didn’t move, he grabbed them, yanking roughly and shoving them towards the hallway.

“The living room,” he yelled, coughing through the smoke, pointing. One of them shook her head and ran back to him, throwing her arms around his waist, and Rory tried to push her off. There was a cracking sound and the ceiling in the hallway collapsed, blocking their exit. She screamed and Rory cursed.

Bringing his shirt up to cover his mouth, Rory tried to breathe but the smoke was making it exceedingly difficult. There was a small window near the ceiling but he doubted they could get out it without burning so he only had one choice. He had to force his way through the hallway. Grabbing a blanket from the bed, he threw it over the woman’s head and pointed.

“Count of three.” She shook her head rapidly but Rory had no patience for it. He counted down quickly and then yanked her, forcing her to go with it. The broken wood and flames cut into his legs, knocking him to the ground with her but he didn’t stop.

Shoving her to her feet, Rory practically pushed her out the window. Then he jumped out himself, finding the little group of people and children rushing to their friend. Rory coughed, face down in the grass as he shoved his hands into the ground, already knowing that he was absolutely, and completely fucked. Looking up, he asked if that was everyone, trying to make sure they were all safe. He didn’t even breathe a sigh of relief until they assured him that was everyone. Even as they thanked him and hugged him, Rory felt like a piece of shit. One of the ladies called the fire department and Rory took that as his leave. He’d even forgotten about Junk until he walked around the back of the house to grab the canister and found the grass empty.

“Fuck...”

He needed to get back to the House of the Dead before Junk did. Jumping into his truck, he backed out as fast as he could and slammed his foot on the gas, not sure what excuse he would use but certain he needed to talk to Derek first.

Derek

By the time the report came in that Rory had rescued the family, Derek had already moved Grace to a different location. She’d be safe, provided that Rory was able to follow through on one last simple task since it was quite clear that he couldn’t listen. He excused the ghoulie who was only known as Junk and focused his attention on the arrival of his soon to be former ghoulie friend. It wasn’t that he’d rescued the family. His intention was never for the fire to even happen. But Rory didn’t listen, didn’t intend to listen. And that’s where Derek had to draw a line. He was lovingly stroking Pamela’s head when the door opened and Rory entered the room. He lifted a brow and stroked the dog’s head one last time before standing up. “So. It seems that you really can’t follow instruction.”

Rory

How long had it been since Junk took off? Was Rory too late? The other guy didn't have a car that he knew of so maybe Rory got the jump on him. What would he say? Piecing together a quick story about--what? He could say that he fought Junk because he was trying to take his job from him. It would mean Derek would give him another task, maybe another fire, but he could deal with that then. Right now, all he could think about was fucking up too much that the man went after one of the people that Rory cared so deeply for. He didn't turn off the truck when he parked in front of the House of the Dead, running inside as he called out after Derek. But it seemed he was already waiting for him. Rory looked around quickly and at first glance, he didn't see Junk. Maybe he did make it here first. But Derek's words told him he didn't. "Dude, there were kids in there, a baby. I have a kid myself."

Derek

“I’m aware.” Derek replied coldly, approaching Rory from his spot across the room and getting into Rory’s face again. “But you see I wasn’t asking you to think about it. I wasn’t even asking you to come back here and justify your heroics. I asked you to burn the trailer down with everyone inside. And you disobeyed me.” He got closer, the front of his shoes lightly scuffing they top of Rory‘s. “I’m well aware of your daughter. In fact, I knew that you’d never follow through. Had you just admitted that from the get go, this might’ve turned out differently.” He grabbed the front of Rory’s shirt and violently headbutted him, with enough force to make the ghoulies nose spurt with blood as it collided sharply with Derek’s forehead.

He seized him again and threw him violently to the floor, kicking him in the head, then between the ribs, and then again. “Now, you get to play for your daughter’s life.” Derek crouched down by Rory on the floor and held him upright by the front of his shirt. “I had a friend grab little Grace when this all started. And now you have to earn her back. If you succeed, you’ll get grace back, and you will never return to the Ghoulies again.” He slammed Rory to the floor, then punched him hard across the face. “Fail me, and you will never see her again.” He stood, dragging Rory up with him by his neck. “Bring me Darius Anderson. Do that, and you and your daughter can walk away.”

Rory

Rory wanted to slink away but he stood his ground, almost hoping the little show of strength would earn him some points. He looked down at their shoes and then back at Derek, clenching his hand into a fist at his side. "You want me to fight, I can fight but you--" Then the blow came and Rory's vision went white for a minute. He'd been in enough fights to know that it would fade but the world was upending when he was tossed to the ground, hitting his head on the hard floor. "De--" His hand went up to his nose, capturing blood in the palm of his hand as his eyes started to adjust. All they saw was Derek's food, the momentum of his kick rolling him onto his back before the next kick came, and another. It wasn't the smart decision when he heard Grace's name.

Rory let out a grunt and threw his arm out to get a quick jab against Derek's jaw. The next punch made him dizzy. Rory had fought plenty of times in his life, usually for money, and he'd fought some real sons of bitches but Derek was different. Worse. More wild. And he groaned in back, spitting blood as he was dragged to his feet, head floating and face pounding with pain. "Where the hell is my daughter?" He spewed, suddenly remembering the calls he'd ignored from Riley. Now he knew why she must have been calling. "You son of a bitch, where is she?" he choked out.

Derek

Derek was acutely aware that Rory had some skill as a fighter, which is why it’d been critical to incapacitate him as quickly as possible. Blows to the head to disorient, to the sides to injure. He wasn’t about the petty little hand to hand sparring, and he needed to make himself very clear. The resonating blow to his face stung, and he knew beyond a doubt his jaw would be sporting a nice bruise for a few days. Rory would have to pay for that one too. With his neck tightly seized in a tight fist, he clenched hard, enough to certainly make catching a shallow breath a challenge.

“I don’t think you heard me,” Derek practically growled, clenching Rory’s throat tighter. “You’re done asking questions. You’re done as a Ghoulie. The only shred of hope you have at finding your precious daughter is to get me what I asked for. I’ll forgive you for not hearing me clearly the first time since your ears must be ringing.” He wrapped a second hand around Rory’s neck, the pressure of both his thumbs against his trachea with enough force to nearly crush it.

“If you’re fortunate enough to regain consciousness after this,” He slammed them both back down onto the floor again, putting all of his body mass on top of Rory as he continued to choke the life out of him. “You’ll bring me Anderson within 24hrs. Do that, and Grace will be returned. And if you don’t...” He finally released Rory, standing upright and this time stomping with the entire force of his leg down onto Rory‘s rib cage. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Rory

Rory knew he could fight. At least, he thought he knew he could fight. But this was different because he'd never once had the intention of killing someone. There was a cold, dark place inside of him that knew that wasn't true of Derek. His hands gripped, trying to release the hold on his throat but growing both increasingly weaker and more frantic the longer he went without a breath. Stars flashed in front of his eyes when he hit the ground, the loud rushing sound of blood in his ears as he fought with the only strength he had left. But it wasn't enough. He should have known, it would never be enough.

Then suddenly his throat was free and he could gasp in a breath that made the whole world spin on its side, but the stomp to his chest sent a sharp pain that stole the only breath he'd gotten, and like a lamp, everything went dark. His whole body was in pain, worse than any fight he'd been in because at least in those fights he'd been able to fight back. When he had adrenaline bursting through his veins, it was hard to feel the extent of your damage.

Grace.. he thought. He needed to get up. He needed to find Grace. Derek had her and if anything happened to her..

A low groan came from a busted lip and while he tried to open his eyes, one of them was swollen shut. Dried blood clung to his face and every time he tried to take a breath, a sharp explosion erupted in his chest. He wasn't sure what the fuck happened in his chest but now wasn't the time to figure it out. "Grace," he mumbled, voice cracking from the pressure that had been on his throat. It barely came out a whisper. Get up, he thought. Get Grace. He put his hands on the floor and tried to push himself up but the pain turned him into a shaking ball of blood and broken bones.

Fighting through the pain, he called his daughter's name again and when he finally got up, he expected to be in the House of the Dead but he wasn't. He was in the back of his shitty pick up out in a field in the middle of nowhere. Rory didn't remember passing out, or being moved, but none of that mattered right now. The man jumped out of the trunk, landed on his feet - and realized what an awful mistake he'd made as the pain shot through his chest. Wrapping his arm around himself, Rory was thankful the keys were still in his jeans pocket. Maybe Derek hadn't realized they were there. Rory doubted the man wouldn't make him go on foot if he'd known.

The last place the man wanted to end up was back in the trailer park but he drove like his life depended on it. No. Like his daughter's life did. Finding the correct trailer, Rory climbed out and had to steady himself on the back end of the truck to cough and spit a mouthful of blood. He made it to the door, slammed an open hand against it constantly until it finally opened. Without shame or hesitation, he said, "I need help."

Darius

It’d gotten to the point that Bruce was no longer coming home, and Dare figured if he’d found a ditch to sleep in, he might as well change the locks and keep him out for good. As much as he wanted to live with Charlie, he had responsibilities to take care of on the Serpent side of things. He needed to be close by and give instruction while Bruce continued to drink himself into oblivion. All the while, fucking Derek Gilbert had functionally declared war after his bullshit stunt that night that left a Serpent family homeless. Dare helped them find a place to stay for the night with a promise he’d give them a hand in the morning. It felt like his head had only just hit his pillow when there was loud pounding on his door. “Go away.” He pleaded under his breath, glancing at his phone. 9:14pm. He groaned and tried to ignore it, but whoever was at the door was hitting it like his life depended on it.

Dare finally got up, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt and finally headed to the door. It swung open inward and the man in the doorway was nearly unrecognizable. Had he not just recently met him in person, Dare wouldn’t have even known who he was. He sighed. “Listen dude, whatever shit Derek wants to fight about now can wait until tomorrow. You look like shit. Go home.”

Rory

Rory's heart was thrumming and he felt too much; too much pain, too much fear. His mind was a cruel bitch playing images of his daughter, scared and alone, with people she didn't know - people he didn't trust to hurt her. In his head, he imagined her screaming for him to save her and all he wanted to do was go to her. He had no idea where Derek could have taken her, where she was hidden, and he knew going to the cops wouldn't do shit. This was his only option.

Clutching his arm around his ribs, Rory felt thankful that Dare was even there but now what? He didn't expect the Serpent to just walk freely into Ghoulie territory to offer himself up. And Rory knew he was in no position to fight Dare in the hopes that he could knock him out and drag him there. This was his only play. "He has my daughter," Rory hissed. "He wanted me to kill that family where the fire was and I couldn't. I didn't set the fire but he wanted me to. I got them out," he said, hoping it would earn him.. something. "He's punishing me so he.. took her." But Rory didn't come here to tell Dare a sob story so he cut to it. "He wants you. He-- gave me 24 hours but.. He has her."

Darius

There was hardly a thing that Rory was going to be able to say that would make Dare continue this conversation. But the second he mentioned a kid was involved, Dare stopped and the frustration visibly drained from him. Of course Derek would leverage with a kid. He couldn’t be surprised and yet he was. He sighed and stepped out of the doorway, leaving enough space for Rory to come inside and shutting the door firmly behind him. He locked the bolt and gestured for Rory to take a seat on the couch. “I should kill you for what you did to the Hendrickson’s.” He muttered as he went around the house and finally found his cigarettes, lighting one up quickly and taking a long drag as he rubbed his forehead. “When did he grab your kid?”

Rory

Honestly, Rory would have understood if Dare attacked him for what he'd done. If he hadn't spilled the gasoline, it wouldn't have gone up the way it did but he wasn't going to fight semantics. Either way, he'd done it. He didn't refuse Derek. Maybe the fact he'd gone in the house and got them out would earn him some pity points. He walked into Dare's place and was thankful to take a seat, until he actually did. His chest hurt and he slouched to hold pressure. "You can. I don't care. I just need to make sure she's safe," he said, looking up and watching Dare as he moved around. "Some time after the fire. Or probably before knowing him. Riley-" He hesitated and knew he would need to call her. She was probably freaking out but he couldn't think about her right now. Rory rubbed his face. "Look, she's seven.. I-- I don't know.. I didn't know what to do."

Darius

Rarely was he ever in a position of such immense power. Darius was holding all the cards. He could kill Rory, he could demand his unyielding loyalty, he could demand that the ghoulie banish from the town and never return. But...he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that his time with Charlie and the ordeal with Aidan and the kids hadn’t softened him. Made him take a good, hard look at the kind of man he was capable of being. Like Derek. He didn’t want to go down that route. He looked over Rory and his injuries. He’d never convince him to go to the hospital while his daughter was missing.

Pulling out his phone, Darius sent out a mass text. Kid missing, seven years old, blonde. She’s being held captive someone secure and possibly ghoulie guarded. I want this kid found ASAP. Bring her back to the Wyrm. You have two hours. Confirm back to me once she’s safe. He put his phone back in his pocket and straightened up, taking another drag from his cigarette. “Alright. I’ve got everyone and their mother looking for your kid. We’ll find her. In the meantime, we need to keep Derek distracted. He wants me? You’re gonna bring me to him.” He approached the couch and carefully helped Rory onto his feet. Squaring his shoulders, he put his hands down at his sides. “Hit me.”

Rory

Rory expected Dare to turn him away. He'd never been particularly nice to the guy, even letting his own prejudices rule his emotions when Sammy had wandered off after Derek scared her. He'd stood by Dare at Pop's, eyeing him the whole time, ready to attack if he'd done anything. But he'd been decent about the whole situation, and now he hadn't just turned his back on this beaten and bloodied guy he had no allegiance to be good to. Rory hung his head in relief when Dare said he'd sent out a text. There were so many Serpents, and they were looking for his little girl. He didn't know how to take that.

He mumbled a thank you and would have probably said it a million more times if it wasn't for Dare's next comment. Rory's head snapped up and it made the pain in his head wash over him. He fought through it, confusion on his face as Dare helped him up. "Wait-- what? You.." His brows pressed together. Was this a trick? "What?"

Darius

Charlie was most definitely going to have his ass when she found out about this, but if Rory wanted his help, Dare had to go on faith that he’d help him get out of the situation too. It’s not like he’d have Rory’s daughter at the ready, and by the time they got there, she’d hopefully be found. They didn’t Derek to know they were looking. And what better way to hold his attention than to bring him what he wanted?

“If you’re going to bring me to him, he’s can’t find out I went willingly. So you need to make it look like I put up a fight. I’m still pretty banged up inside from...something else. It wouldn’t take you much. And Derek can’t know we’re looking for your kid. So...” He once again straightened his composure. “I want you to hit me. Then you’re gonna tie up my hands, and take me to him. He’s not gonna give you your kid back until then, but we should have her safe before he knows she’s gone. And hopefully...before he kills me.” He gave Rory a pointed look. “I’m hoping you’ll help me get out of there but...if not, I get it. So come on. Hit me.”

Rory

Rory shoved his fist against his side, already knowing that his body was going to hate him for throwing any kind of punches. He'd barely managed to get one off on Derek but.. maybe if Derek though he'd caught Dare off guard? Like he said, he was still healing. Rory knew all about that. He listened to Dare and in that moment, he realized that he picked the wrong gang to join a long time ago. Maybe he didn't know Dare that well, but he wasn't a raging psychopath like Derek. He nodded, realizing that everything Dare said was right. He just couldn't believe the other male was wiling to help him after everything. Rory let his hands fall to the sides, needing to shake out the feeling in them from his rigid position.

"I'll help you," he said suddenly, sure that he could have said nothing. But Dare could have done nothing too, and now he was willing to walk into the flames for Rory's daughter. That meant more than he'd know. "I swear." Maybe Dare believed him, maybe he didn't, but whatever happened, he would do everything he could. He owed him that much. Making a fist a few times, Rory squared up and for the first time, he didn't enjoy throwing a punch. His chest exploded in pain after he made contact, and he smacked his hand on Dare's back. "Sorry.." he offered.

Darius

Though he’d anticipated it to hurt, Dare wasn’t expecting to see stars when Rory’s fist collided with his face. Even injured he packed a wallop, and Dare muttered a stream of profanities under his breath as he waved Rory’s apology off. “Damn. Wish I had you on my team back when. Fuck me that hurt. Okay.”

He huffed miserably and straightened up, picking up his fallen cigarette to keep smoking as he brought Rory some thin extension cords from another room. He removed his burner from his pocket and handed it over. “You’ll get the text when Grace is safe. Tap me on the shoulder or pinch me or something to let me know. Then we can try and get the hell out of there alive. But for now, we gotta keep up appearances. So don’t go dying on me until we get your kid safe.” He turned around and put his wrists behind his back. “Go ahead and make it tight.”

Rory

Rory shook his hand, the feeling throbbing through his knuckles. He hadn't wanted to hurt Dare, especially after he was helping him find his daughter, but he did have to make this look legitimate. "Can I get one of those?" he asked, eyeing the cigarette for the tenth time. He needed to keep up the facade that he'd done this, attacked Dare, brought him.. but his nerves were still shot. He nodded, shoving the phone into his pocket. He wasn't exactly sure how they were going to make it out of there alive but after all this, he'd do anything as long as his little girl was safe. "I'll do my best," Rory said, grabbing the cords and pulling them around Dare's wrists.

Although it may have occurred to any other Ghoulie that he could just hand over Dare and be done with it - that would certainly earn major points with Derek - he had no intention of doing that. He wouldn't support the guy that kidnapped his daughter. All Rory ever wanted to do was keep her safe and this wasn't this. Looking at the ties, he considered them and then tightened them more. Appearances. "My truck's out front."

Darius

Dare offered the pack of cigarettes along with his lighter, biting down a remark about Rory being a firefly tonight as he still needed the man’s help getting out of the situation he was willingly putting himself into. He’d of done the same for anyone’s kids, especially Charlie’s, and although he had no reason to believe Rory would help him escape, he had to believe it. If nothing else, he wanted to be certain there was good in people and the folks with kids seemed to be the most apt for it. With his arms secured tight behind his back, Dare nodded. “I’m ready.”

He let Rory lead the way out and had to get into the truck with the assistance. Sitting back, he tried to stomach down his nerves. He wasn’t sure what was worse, whatever Derek might to do him before they found the kid, or what Charlie was going to do to him when he came back with injuries again. But it didn’t matter. Rory looked to be at about death’s door and Darius needed to focus. “Let’s go.”

Rory

Rory never expected to be driving back like this, Dare coming willingly, the Serpents looking for the daughter of a no good Ghoulie like him. But whatever happened, he had a new respect for the people he'd thought he hated. They drove in silence, Rory smoking down the cigarette, every minute bringing them closer. Until finally, they stopped. Deciding to leave the keys in the truck - easier for a quick escape - Rory climbed out, groaning as he looked out his one good eye.

Normally he would have planned on picking Dare up, carrying him around like a sack of potatoes but he knew his body wouldn't get him more than two feet if he tried. Hooking his arm through Dare's, Rory tugged the man, trying to make it look like he didn't give a shit about the person he was pulling into the devil's den. "Derek," Rory called out when they made it inside, doing his best to hold on for Dare to struggle. When he saw the shadow move in the corner of the room, Rory did his best to toss Dare onto the ground, grunting in pain as he did, panting through the aching in his chest. "You wanted him, you fucking got him," he hissed.

Derek/Darius

The minute they were ready to go in, Dare smashed down the remainder of his nerves and steeled himself for what was to come. He tried to keep his weight off Rory as he squirmed and twisted against his hold, cursing him out, dragging a foot without actually throwing weight onto it, and he collapsed on the floor of the House of the Dead with an angry shout as he hit his healing sides. “Fuck you, fucking ghoulie scumbag. Fucking attacking me in my own house. You are DEAD! You think you’re gonna be able to even step outside again after this??” He turned his attention to a bemused looking Derek.

Derek stood up from his seat and set aside his book, approaching Darius hunched on the ground, visibly favoring one of his sides and a massive bruise forming on the side of his head. Derek quirked a brow at Rory. “I’m gonna be honest. This is not exactly what I was expecting. Especially in your...condition.”

He kicked Dare over onto his side with his shoe and then approached Rory. “I’m impressed. You actually can follow instruction with the right motivation. Your daughter will be returned to you in the morning. Provided...you do one other thing for me.” Derek’s attention turned back to Dare and he dragged him up off the floor, holding him by his neck in the same way he’d held Rory earlier. “I’ve waited so long for this, Anderson. But your old man needs to be here to see this.”

“Fat chance.” Dare snarled between gasping breaths. “Fuck you.” Inside Rory’s pocket, Darius’ burner buzzed.

Rory

"One other thing?" Rory growled almost like he knew Derek's dog did on his command. "You said I bring him and I get my kid." Except this time he struggled to hide the disdain in his eyes. "He's fucked up. Didn't take much to knock his ass down. Look at him." He threw a look over at Dare and tried to pretend that hated on his face was for him and not Derek. Watching the man walk over to Darius and lift him up, Rory had to fight not to step in. He'd clearly said that he wanted Dare's father to be there so he wouldn't kill him yet. At least that's what Rory was betting on.

Feeling the buzzing in his pocket, Rory tried to be slick as he pulled the phone out and looked at the message. Got her. Headed to the Wyrm. It took all of Rory's strength to hold it together. He shoved the phone back down and looked around the floor. They needed to get out of here and Rory knew from experience it wouldn't be easy. Finding a broken beer bottle on the ground, he picked up the piece and shoved it in his sleeve. Dare would have an easier time getting away if he wasn't tied up.

"What other thing do you want?" He asked Derek, hoping to drag his attention away.

Darius/Derek

Derek and Dare glared at each other, Derek moving across the room and throwing Dare to the floor like he weighed nothing. Darius shifted uncomfortably, lifting up his head and feigning a look of defeat. Derek, blinded by his need for revenge so damn close he could practically feel the rage tingling in his fingertips, went to one of the shelves in his room and grabbed a large meat cleaver. Pamela the Shepard looked up from her spot on the floor and whined, but Derek shushed the dog gently. It was a tone he rarely used but his dog was of great importance to him.

“If the son was no problem for you, should be just as easy for you to get your hands on the drunk too. I’m sure you can find him stumbling around town somewhere.” Derek muttered, eyes appearing wild, unfocused as he started across the room and pressed a foot against Darius’ chest, waving the cleaver in front of his face. “I’ve waited twenty god damn years to get to this point.” He growled in Darius’ face. “Do you have any idea how your father ruined my life?”

“Get in line, he ruined a lot of people’s lives.” Dare snapped back. “What the fuck does that have to do with—“ A blow landed to his face with enough force to nearly knock him unconscious. Dare dizzingly stilled for the moment as Derek approached Rory again.

“Tie him to the pole. I’ll be right back.” And Derek exited the room.

Rory

Rory knew what Derek was going for the moment he opened his mouth. He wasn't going anywhere. Right now he didn't give a fuck about Dare's father but they were getting the hell out of here. Now. Gripping the piece of bottle, the glass cutting into his skin, Rory was about to swipe it out at Derek. He only stilled himself when Derek gave an order and then left the room. This was their chance.

Falling to Dare's side, he pulled the man up to a sitting position, looking back to make sure Derek hadn't come back around the corner yet. "They got her," he said under his breath, using the glass to sheer across the ties at his wrist. At the moment, Rory mostly distrusted everyone and all he was sure of was that Grace wasn't with Derek's people anymore. That's all that mattered. "He'll be back any second." Tugging Dare up to his feet, he pulled him towards the hallway that led to the exit. "Come on. We have to go now."

Darius/Derek

One minute he was seeing stars and the next his wrists were free and he was being hauled up onto his feet. His old man had hit him into unconsciousness before and yet this still was worse. It was like Derek only punched him at a fifth of what he was actually capable of. Shaking the cobwebs out of his head, Dare focused his eyes and nodded. “Yeah. Yep. Okay. We’re going.” Was a double concussion possible? A super concussion?

His head felt like it had a million gumballs inside of it and had been violently rattled around. But he moved, knowing Rory would need probably most of his help. Just as they cleared the doorway and entered one of the halls, Derek came flying out of nowhere, slamming Darius up against a wall with enough force to rattle the foundation.

He turned on Rory, grabbing him at his neck before the man could even put up an arm and gripping on with both hands. “I warned you not to fuck with me,” Derek snarled, crushing the life out of him. “I want to see the life leave your fucking eyes! I want you to know that your little girl is going to be my little servant for the rest of her fucking days! You’ve betrayed me for the last god damn time! SUFFOCATE, FUCKER!”

Rory

If Derek came back before they got out of here, it was going to be bad. Very bad. Rory fought through the pain in his chest as he pushed Dare towards the exit. The whole place could be crawling in seconds so there was no time to waste. They barely made it into a hall when a blur of motion hit the man in front of him like a train. "H--" Just as he tried to yell or throw himself at Derek, the man whirled and was on him. He'd thought the first time he had Derek's hands on his neck was bad but there was no warning for this, no attempt to take a breath, nothing but intense pressure that left him gagging, trying to force air through the neck that was being compressed.

Rory threw his hands out, trying to push Derek away, hit his face, neck, eyes, anything he could try but panic quickly set in as he felt pin pricks of pain along his face. His vision was quickly blacking out. It wasn't like passing out where it started outlining your vision. This came in thick blocks and all he could hear was Derek threatening his daughter.

The more he struggled, the quickly he lost energy and soon his knees gave out. But even as he fell, the hands weren't letting him go. He was going to die. It was the first time he ever thought and really believed it. Derek was killing him.

Darius/Derek

Dare was seeing stars again, the force of Derek hitting him against the wall left him dazed. The mass on the man was like being hit with a two ton bolder, all of the force going into his torso and knocking the breath from his lungs. Coughing and wheezing, he could hear the scuffle going on around him and tried his damndest to focus. Up, get UP!

He finally managed to clear his vision in time to see Rory going down, his motions becoming so much less calculated and more flaccid. It was then he realized what was happening, and pushed up off the ground.

“That’s it...” Derek crooned as Rory started to give out beneath him, the fire in his eyes dimming into a dull, glazed over appearance. “That’s the last fucking time you’ll ever—FUCK!”

With that same shard of glass Rory had used to free him, Darius stabbed Derek in the shoulder, causing the ghoulie to release his titan grip on Rory’s neck. He grabbed onto his back and iron-barred his forearm around Derek’s neck, hauling him with all his might back off of Rory and struggling to hold on.

Derek grunted, panted, threw his back into walls to try and force the Snake to let him go, his brain screaming out a mantra of NO NO NO! as pinpricks of darkness sparked in his eyes. He couldn’t breathe, ironically, collapsing on his knees beside Rory as the Snake continued to press his forearm against his trachea. Derek’s arms flew up, clawing at Darius, and finally collapsing into darkness on the floor.

Straightening up, panting, and sick to his stomach, Dare released Derek before he accidentally killed him, looking at the door, then down at Rory. He cursed under his breath and grabbed him by his underarms, hauling with all his reserve strength and slinging Rory’s arm around his neck. “What did I say? Don’t go dying on me.”

Rory

Rory always thought he would fight harder when it came to this. In his underground fights, he didn't stop until the bell rang. But there was no bell here, and Derek wasn't going to stop. He felt all the strength leaving his body and the only thing that hurt worse was the sudden and complete inhale of breath he took when the hands were no longer on his neck.

His lungs expanded and the ache in his ribs took over, blinding him for anything else. He didn't even know what was going on or who was picking him up until he was moving. Not sure how his feet shuffled along the floor, Rory's eyes were focused on the ground. He saw it. Then it was in front of him. He hadn't remembered falling, or the pain from hitting the floor. Or how he got back up. All he knew was he was suddenly in the truck and he collapsed against the side door.

"Ple-- ge her.." The words were raw in his throat and it still felt like he couldn't breathe, like his heart was pounding like a desperate thing looking for air. He still felt the hands around his throat, squeezing, killing. All he could think. Please get her.

Darius/Derek

Getting the fuck out of the house of the dead without being detected was nothing shy of a miracle, and Rory was absolutely dead weight he owed very little to given the circumstances. But he brought the ghoulie down the road and to his truck, carefully getting him into the front passenger seat and resting his head back. He slammed the door shut and climbed in the drivers, using the keys to get the ignition going and peeling away from the house like a bat out of hell. “She’s fine.” Dare reassured as he fished his burner out of Rory’s pocket and called one of his connections.

“Vic? It’s D. I’ve got one coming in and I need him treated on the DL, you got me?” He glanced over at Rory and snapped his fingers in his face. “Hey. Focus. We’re almost to the hospital.” They still had a bit to go, but he needed Rory as conscious as possible as he made the call to the serpent that’d found Grace. “Put her on. Yeah.” He passed the burner over and stuck it between Rory’s shoulder and head. “It’s your kid.”

Rory

It didn't cross Rory's mind until they were barreling down the road that Dare had every chance to leave without him. He didn't have to help him get out. He didn't have to help him find Grace. He didn't have to do anything but he did, and that was a debt he knew he'd never be able to pay. If he could have said anything without falling into the unconsciousness that wanted to pull him down, he would have told Dare no hospitals. He couldn't afford that and he didn't need it. He just had to rest. Rest and take aspirin, and see his little girl. But even trying to talk was stealing away any breath he had in him.

Leaning his forehead on the window, Rory felt himself slipping into a sleep, brought back only when he heard that sweet voice say "Daddy?" Rory pushed himself up, tried to say her name but no sound came out. He tried a second time and his voice broke. "Grace.. Yeah, it's me. You okay?"

She started going on about her adventure but all he heard was that she was alive. She didn't sound hurt or scared. She was safe. The relief that tore through him gave into the pain and while she spoke, Rory slouched forward and allowed himself to let go.

Darius/Derek

Dare focused on the road and knew that they were running out of time. Rory revived himself long enough to talk to Grace for just a moment before he was slumped forward against the dash. At an intersection he stopped to lean him back and grabbed the phone.

“Hey...Grace. This is Darius. I’m a friend of your dad’s. My friend is gonna keep an eye on you. She’s very nice. And then I’ll bring you to your dad. Talk soon.” And hung up.

Within ten minutes he pulled up to the side of the hospital where the ambulances unloaded people, where Victor was waiting with a stretcher. He helped unload Rory onto it and paused. “Isn’t this guy a Ghoulie?”

“Not anymore.” Dare clarified with a glare. “He’s just a guy now. And you’re gonna treat him like he’s one of us.”

“D, this—“

“Derek almost killed him saving me. So do as I ask. You got the papers?” Victor sighed but nodded, holding up a forged chart.

“Name’s Fred Petersburg. He’s a 24 year old male from the south side. What the fuck happened to him?”

“He came to me looking like shit but Derek about strangled him to death. Go.” Without another word, Rory was rushed into the hospital and Dare stood outside, cursing the shitty evening.

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