A/N: Hi Guys!
Once again I apologise for the wait. I have broken up for summer now though so I have no excuse not to update more regularly. I can imagine that it's a pain waiting for long periods of time.
It's usually the reviews that prompt me to write but they have been lacking lately (I can imagine why) so I haven't been remembering to update. The chapters have all been written, it's just a case of posting them which I never can remember to do regularly. But I promise I'll work at it now for the last few chapters.
Anyway, enjoy!
CHAPTER 21: Caught in a 'Hale'storm (Mar'i POV)
The gang lead us further into the alleyway. After what seemed like an eternity of walking, we reached the back doors of a small club. The once neon lights, thickening the typography of the logo, were cracked in places, exposing the bare wires on the inside. Seeing the current state of the club, my chest began to feel heavier knowing that what was waiting for us on the inside, wouldn't be good.
I wanted desperately to reach out and grab Damon's arm, but this would just give the other men the impression that I was uncomfortable. And that was the last thing that I wanted to do.
One of the men stepped forward towards the door, knocking a series of times on the door's surface in a rhythmic pattern. After a small moment of pure silence, movement appeared on the other end of the door.
My heart sped up as I felt myself reach out for Damon's arm and cling to it. My eyes caught those of one of the men next to me, who replied to my look with a menacing smirk.
After walking through a beaded doorway, we reached a small rounded table. Sat there, a man hunched over a glass of what I presumed was whiskey. His hands were wrinkled and calloused - the product of years of a hard life. He looked down at his glass, only the top of his head visible to us.
"Boss." One of the gang members spoke, his voice wavering almost nervously.
He man's head rose slightly, but not enough to see his face.
The gang member spoke again, this time with more strength, "There's some people here to see you".
"Spike!" The man snapped, addressing the gang member that spoke, "What have a told ya about bringing people in here without me saying that you can?". This voice was gruff and almost rusty in places, like he was tired in a way.
The gangster, or 'Spike', stuttered nervously in response. "Y-yeah Boss. I know Boss but these two...I erm...this kid" he stopped and jabbed his thumb in Damon's direction, even though Hale was still facing the opposite direction, picking up his drink lazily. Spike cleared his throat again and continued. "H-he says that he's your kid."
Hale's shoulder jumped up slightly, his hand almost dropping the glass in his right hand. He clutched it tighter.
It was at this moment that he turned in his chair and faced us.
His hair was winter-white, thinning out towards the top but still vast in quantity. His eyes were almost the same as Damon's although the whites of his orbs were blood-flecked with age. They scanned over us both slightly but lingered more on Damon.
After a moment, his eyes widened as he finally recognised the older version of his son. "You?" he croaks through the dryness of his throat that his alcohol created. "Y-you're a teenager. How can you? H-how can it be?"
Damon gave my arm a small pat, telling me to release him from my grasp as he walked towards his father. "I'm from the past"
Henry's eyes widened slightly in disbelief, his expression quizzical in a way before melting into a suddenly realisation that we were telling the truth.
He cleared his throat, finally settling down clouded glass without downing the remains of its contents.
"Leave us." He spoke simply. At first I thought that he was referring to us, but his tired eyes flickered to the men surrounding us.
The gang didn't move at first, but after a moment of consideration, followed his order and one by one left the room, leaving only myself and Damon in his presence.
I looked around further, my eyes cautiously scanning the new environment properly since arriving. The wall's once vibrant paint was faded and cracked in places, creating this feel of darkness even in the well lit space. I quickly came to the conclusion that the lack of customers at the empty bar was because the club was private, obviously not open to the average guy after his shift at work.
A shiver instantly overcame me at the idea of what they would do to someone who managed to get into this place uninvited. Hale seemed like a good guy, old and vulnerable, but he held this feeling in his eyes that you couldn't shake - the man shouldn't be messed with.
"So kid," Henry suddenly began, leaning forward onto the table slightly in interest. "Why?"
"Why are we here?" Damon repeated to clarify.
Henry simply nodded, his eyes suddenly turning to me.
"The same reason as you." Damon replied, almost softly.
Hale raised his eyebrow what seemed quizzically and Damon explained. "We're here for the cure...for mom."
I glanced down at Hale's hands which were almost trembling. "S-She's not dead?"
I instantly tensed up at this. Knowing that she was alive, but if we didn't finish this jjob, she wouldn't be.
"Not yet" Damon spoke quietly, his voice almost trailing off.
I jumped in, noticing that Damon probably did not want to say the truth out loud. "Mr Hale" I addressed his father for the first time, "She doesn't have much time."
Hale did not seem to notice what I said, instead he was looking intently at me, his eyes unmoving and focused.
Did he recognise me or something?
"I'm sorry." he spoke, "Who are you?"
Damon stepped in again, taking my hand in his "This is my gir-erm, my er friend Mar'i", he rushed the last part.
His eyes continued to fixate themselves onto mine.
Did he know who I was? That's impossible, right?
My worries were shook away when he proceeded to move forward with the topic. "And you brought her along because..?"
"She's actually the reason we're here." Damon looked back at me and squeezed my hand. "Mar'i has this, power that means that she could bring us here with this machine." He paused to scratch his head awkwardly. "I know it sounds crazy and doesn't make much sense but you have to believ-"
"Don't worry kid, I believe you." He assured, leaning back into his chair. "I've experienced my fair share of crazy in my time." He chuckled to himself, picking up the glass on the table and throwing back the rest of its contents down his throat. He coughed slightly from the alcohol's impact before speaking again. "So," he began, setting the glass back onto the table, "you want the cure?"
"It's the only reason we came to see you." Damon replied, a sense of hostility in his tone.
Henry caught onto this. "Ah I get it" he began, running a hand through his snowy hair, "You're still pissed about me leaving."
I could feel Damon tense up at the lack of sensitivity in his words.
Damon took a deep breath before replying, "This isn't about me, or us. This is about Mom. Now are you going to help us or not?"
I flinch slightly at his tone. That probably wasn't the best way to ask for something that we really need.
Henry sighed for a moment before replying, "Look kid, I've tried to get that thing, you don't know how hard I've tried. But there are..." he trailed off, rolling up his shirt sleeve to reveal a large scar from the base of his hand to his elbow, "are compilations."
"What happened?!" Damon asked as Hale pulled his sleeve back down.
Hale signed again, "Let's just say that there's, well, security."
I bit my lip in thought before speaking, "What kind of security?"
Damon looked at me, realising what I was thinking. With my starbolts I can pretty much handle anything.
" I don't know about much, all I know if that I can't get through the freaking shield guarding the damn thing. The last time I tried I got that" he pointed at his scarred arm under his sleeve, "as a present." He shook his head and looked down at the floor. "I gave up months ago kid, I can't get in."
"Maybe not..." I trailed off, "but I can."
A/N: Okay guys so we've met another character now, Henry Hale.
Thoughts?
Please review and as always, thank you for reading :)