He won't be sticking around
The room was dark and grimy, dimly lit only by the single floor lamp - the only source of light in the otherwise shadowed room. The floor was littered with debris and detritus, showing signs of its long abandonment of human habitation. It was on the edge of town, nestled between trees and overgrown shrubs. The only usable piece of furniture in the room was an old rickety chair, a barely standing sad affair that most people would cast away as rubbish but it would suit its purpose for the short while it was needed. The chair was occupied by a badly beaten man, his hands tied behind his back and his feet tied to the legs of the chair, there was blood slowly leaking from; his nose, a cut above his eye, and his busted lip, his face was beginning to swell and the other occupant of the room smirked slightly in the shadows. Siobhan had done a good job.
The other occupant of the room was stood opposite the chair, leaning against the wall in the shadows with barely half of his face illuminated by the light being given off by the dirty lamp. He was of average height, about five foot nine, broad in the shoulder and narrow in the waist. His hair was cut short and his jaw was covered in seemingly permanent stubble. The dark blue shirt he wore had the sleeves rolled to his elbows and his arms were crossed across his chest as he waited for the beaten man to regain consciousness and realize what an absolute world of shit he'd landed himself in. The man in the shadows idly tapped his fingers against his arms as the beaten man began to stir, slowly awakening from his forced lapse of alertness brought on by the beating that had been given him by his enraged ex-wife. The man in the shadows was of the opinion that the beaten man deserved it; frankly he was planning on doing the exact same thing before Siobhan beat him to it.
He shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts, the beaten man was coming to – his eyes were cracking open, it was go time.
"What the fuck – where the hell am I?" The beaten man groaned out as his head hung against his chest. He spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor and looked up into the shadows. "Squirrel? The fuck are you playing at? Where am I?" He asked hoarsely.
The man in the shadows stepped away from the wall, uncrossing his arms and moving into the light. "Siobhan isn't here Breece." He said looking at the man in the chair. "It's just you and me."
Breece looked up into the shadowed man's face, his eyes flicking over the stubble and cold eyed stare before moving down to his chest and the silver badge pinned there. "You, you're the Sheriff." He said, staring incredulously at the man. "Hood."
Hood smirked slightly and slowly reached up to unclip the badge and put it in his pocket. "Not tonight." He said simply.
Breece began to struggle against the ropes tying him to the chair and nervously looked towards the Sheriff. "What the hell are you playing at!?" He shouted as his eyes darted around the room. "I was attacked! Siobhan –
"Siobhan didn't do anything." Hood said softly as he walked slowly closer to Breece.
Breece began to struggle more violently. "She! –
Hood's hand shot out and grasped Breece's jaw, firmly holding his mouth closed. "Had nothing to do with this." Hood said, finishing the man's sentence for him. "Now" Hood began, his voice quiet and hard. "You and I are going to have a chat."
Breece looked around fearfully and Hood frowned briefly, giving Breece's head a jerk. "Understand?" He asked.
Breece nodded.
"Good." Hood said simply. "Now, I know who you are Breece Connors." He said softly before his left hand whipped out and cracked into the side of Breece's head. "And I know what you've done." He finished coldly as the beaten man groaned as his head whipped to the side and then came to rest on his chest.
"I saw the bandage on Siobhan's arm tonight." Hood said as he leaned closer. "And I saw the scar on her shoulder." He growled into Breece's ear. "I came after you tonight." He continued. "But Siobhan found you first." His right fist hammered into Breece's gut and the man spat out another mouthful of blood, barely missing the Sheriff's boot. "A fact that you should be eternally grateful for because I would have done more than just beat you into unconsciousness." Hood sighed quietly and took a step back.
"Why are you doing this to me, man?" Breece cried as he lifted his head again.
Hood ignored him and kept talking. "Now see." He said with a cold smile, shaking his finger at Breece. "I don't like people who hit women. I think it comes from my childhood but the point is I would have turned you into a corpse and no one would have ever questioned where you went."
Breece watched fearfully, his eyes as wide as the swelling would allow as Hood began to pace.
"So, here's what's going to happen Breece." Hood said, staring hard at the man in the chair. He idly thought that perhaps all the times he himself had been in this position, bound and threatened, that he'd picked up a few tips. "You are going to leave town, you're going to disappear and never come near Siobhan or Banshee again." He told Breece firmly before he stepped forward and kneeled down in front of him to look him in the eyes. "Because if you don't." He began softly, reaching out to grab Breece's hair and wrench his head to the side. "I will hunt you down and I'll end you. You need to go somewhere I can't see you and you need to go there fast." He finished. His words were quiet but the steel in them was evident.
He was not fucking about.
For the first time since waking up something was in Breece's eyes that wasn't fear, now there was anger.
"Fuck you man!" Breece spat. "You think I don't know what's happening here? You think I'm stupid?" He laughed bitterly and Hood watched him unimpressed. "You don't give a fuck about Siobhan; you just want me gone so you can fuck my wife!"
Hood took a step back from the bound, and obviously delusional man, as his mind snapped back to when Siobhan had kissed him at the motel. The feel of her lips against his, the texture of her hair under his fingers, the taste of her mouth on his tongue, the smell of her shampoo in his nose.
He blinked and the memory dissipated as he stared down at Breece, still bound and laughing bitterly on the chair.
"Well screw you man! I ain't going nowhere!" Breece shouted, flecks of blood and spit escaping his mouth.
Hood let out a small noise of frustration before he rocked forward and kicked the chair over, sending Breece to the floor with a shout. He stalked forward, bent down, whipped a flick knife from his belt, and pressed the point against Breece's neck.
"Let me make this perfectly fucking clear Breece." Hood said, his patience rapidly disappearing. "I don't care what you think, Siobhan isn't your wife anymore and I will feed you your heart if you ever come near her again." He growled out, dragging the stiletto down to Breece's chest and applying just enough pressure to draw blood. Breece whimpered slightly. "I am not fucking about." He grabbed his head and stared into his eyes. "Do you understand Breece? I will kill you if you ever come back."
Breece choked out a yes and watched warily as Hood nodded.
"Good. Now, so you don't forget." Hood said and whipped the knife up to Breece's cheek and cut him below the eye, across the cheek bone.
Breece let out a scream as the blade flicked across his face and whimpered as hood stood up. "What the fuck man! My fucking face!" He screamed at the retreating figure of the sheriff.
"So every time you look in the mirror you remember what I said." Hood called from the shadow.
"How the fuck am I supposed to get out of here!?" Breece shouted after him, still tied to the chair on the floor, blood freshly flowing down his face from the cut.
He didn't get an answer.
Sheriff Lucas Hood pulled up in front of the caravan that currently housed his Deputy Siobhan Kelly, a temporary home after the house she'd been born in had been burnt to the ground by the Motorcycle gang 'The Kindred'.
He killed the engine of his patrol car, stepped out and went to the door of the caravan. He knocked twice and waited for a moment before the door opened to reveal the pretty face of Deputy Kelly.
"It's all sorted out." Hood said with a small smile. "I had a chat with Breece; he's not going to be coming back anytime soon if he knows what's good for him."
Siobhan dipped her head slightly and brushed her hair behind her ear. "…you didn't kill him did you?" She asked quietly.
"No." Lucas shook his head slightly.
"Good, he isn't worth the hassle." Siobhan said softly, stepping to the side and holding the door open. "You want to come in for a drink boss?" she asked with a smile.
Hood gave a small grin. "Sure."
The door to the caravan shut with a small click in the night.
A/N: A brief foray into the Banshee fandom because it's an awesome series. I know I should really update my other things but I must admit, I've been bitten by the Banshee bug.