Chapter Twenty: Lost His Way

They left the room they were in and went for the hallway again. It was a bit wider than the previous one, though there still wasn't anything to hide behind. Ah well. If anything were to happen, Hank could block Connor with his body. He just had to be sure not to get any fatal shots. Not until he was off the ship with the kid.

While venturing to the next room, Hank couldn't help but wonder what was happening with Luther. He wondered if the man would rat the two of them out if Blondie-McAsshole threatened him. Although Luther wanted to help Hank and Connor, the man had his own life to worry about as well and it, obviously for him, would be more important. Rather, it's his family that was most important.

If Blondie-McAsshole or Shaolin told Zlatko about him helping Hank and Connor, who knows what would happen. Hank didn't want Luther's wife and daughter to suffer. In the end, however, everyone had their own lives and people to care about.

When they got off the ship, Hank would ask Jeffrey to do something about Luther's family, get someone to get his family to safety. He supposed he owed Luther at least that much, considering he let himself and Connor leave unharmed.

"Oh, fucking finally."

Hank pushed Connor ahead of him carefully when they entered the only room they were familiar with. That way, if Blondie-McAsshole and Shaolin came back from behind, they wouldn't be able to grab Connor and do who knows what.

The room still didn't have a lot of light on. He was about to head for the door when he watched Connor go to the far wall. Hank walked up behind him and raised a brow.

"What are you doing?"

Connor didn't answer. Instead he showed him, moving some planks out of the way and set them in a pile on the floor. There was a secret compartment in the wall. Hank looked around and made sure no one was coming. They probably didn't have much time before Blondie-McAsshole and Shaolin showed up.

Connor reached into the compartment and rummaged around.

"Where's Zlatko?" Hank asked. "Where does he usually stay?"

Connor pointed to the opposite wall, the one across from the door. In the dark Hank couldn't see a door but he had no reason to doubt Connor.

"Is he always in here?"

Connor shook his head. "No."

Hank went over to the wall and felt around until his hand landed on the doorknob.

"What are you doing?" Connor snapped, worry laced in his voice.

"He doesn't seem to be in here at the moment. He would've heard us and come out by now," Hank said. He shrugged. "I want to see what's in there."

Connor huffed. "It's nothing but a boring room. There's only a bed and desk in there. There are some crates but that isn't unusual by this point, is it?"

Hank shook his head. He tried to open the door but it was locked. It seemed as though Zlatko was somewhat smart, locking important rooms and Hank had no doubt it was important, despite what Connor said.

"You'll be getting back-up here soon anyway," Connor said. He didn't stop rummaging through the compartment. "Just...let them handle it."

Hank turned. "Is this where you've been staying this whole time?"

Connor's movements stopped for a moment. He sighed and nodded. "I never wanted you to know any of this. I wish you didn't."

"But this was all planned from the start," Hank said. He walked over to Connor's side. "Right, Connor?"

Connor rested his forehead against the wall. "We...I mean, they knew you would be on this ship. They-"

"You like to fucking talk, don't you, kid?"

Connor tensed. Hank turned and glared at Blondie-McAsshole. Shaolin and Luther weren't with him. Hank didn't care about them. Connor's life was in danger right here, right now. It was Hank's responsibility to care for him. He stood in front of him. Blondie-McAsshole would not hurt Connor again.

"Well, old man, you're not doing half bad for someone who got beat," Blondie-McAsshole said. "You're more durable than I thought."

"Oh, I'm so flattered," Hank said sarcastically. "Where's my fuckin' gun?"

"You think I'm gonna give it back to you, old man?"

No, but he still wanted to know where it was and if Blondie-McAsshole still had it. If he did, Hank assumed he would've pulled it out on him by now. He didn't waste time during the ambush. Well, he somewhat did. He hit him with a bat a couple times before pulling the gun out. With Zlatko not around, Blondie-McAsshole might actually pull the trigger this time.

Hank stepped up when Blondie-McAsshole also took a step forward. He managed to catch an oncoming punch. He forced Blondie-McAsshole's arm down and pulled him closer, managing to slam his fist against his face. He tried to hit him again but Blondie-McAsshole managed to punch his stomach, winding Hank and causing him to let go.

He gripped the fabric of Hank's shirt and slammed him against the wall. Hank kicked his shin repeatedly, and enjoyed the pained expression and noises Blondie-McAsshole gave him. It wasn't enough for the other man to let go, so Hank headbutted him. His head split and some blood came from the area, but not a lot.

Hank shoved Blondie-McAsshole away and threw him to the side. Blondie-McAsshole shot back up and tackled Hank. Hank lost his footing and collapsed on his back. He cursed loudly. He was going to be fucking sorer than he already was and his body ached worse and worse as the seconds ticked.

With how this was going, Hank could only assume that Blondie-McAsshole didn't have the gun on him. He was grateful for that, at least. Hell, he was surprised he managed to keep up decently with a young and fit man.

Then Blondie-McAsshole wrapped his hands around his throat and squeezed. Hank groaned and tried to shove him off. Blondie-McAsshole didn't relent; he gripped his neck tighter. Hank tried to take in deep breaths but found it wasn't doing any good. Spots started to invade his vision and he felt his body slowly shutting down.

He didn't want to die now. While conscious, he did all he could to try and fight against the grip, despite how fruitless it was.

He gasped for breath and held his sore neck the moment Blondie-McAsshole's grip was off him. The other man was also off him in general and away from Hank.

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HIM!"

Hank blinked and sat up the best he could in the moment, his movements sluggish and he kept breathing in as much air as possible. His vision slowly started to come back and he saw Connor standing in front of him. There was a bat in his hand (was that really what he was trying to grab?) and Blondie-McAsshole on the floor.

Connor stomped his foot on Blondie-McAsshole's chest and pinned him to the floor. The man tried to raise his hand but Connor didn't let him. The kid raised the bat and slammed it against Blondie-McAsshole's head. A loud and sickening crack accompanied the action. Blondie-McAsshole didn't move after that.

Connor slammed the bat against his head again. He continued to do this repeatedly. Blood and brain matter started to get everywhere. The sound of metal hitting bone and meat echoed in the room.

Hank stood quickly, ignoring the dizziness at the sudden movement. "Connor, stop."

Connor didn't listen. It was like Hank wasn't there.

"Connor!"

The kid wasn't in reality anymore. He was in his own world. He had no idea what he was doing, Hank didn't doubt. He knew this because he, himself, had moments where he wasn't in reality anymore. He lost his way and did things he didn't even realize he was doing. It happened quite a bit after Cole's death.

There were some times on the job but not a lot and not to this extent. Connor was completely out of it. Hank didn't want to know what his fake reality was at the moment. He supposed he was somewhat glad the kid didn't realize what he was doing. After all, the man's head he was beating in was completely unrecognizable, almost non-existent.

Connor raised the bat again but Hank acted faster. He ran forward and gripped Connor's arms. He forced the tightly gripped bat out of his hands and tossed the bloody weapon to the side. He twisted Connor around to face him.

The kid was panting and his eyes were wide. His body shook. He stumbled slightly and Hank grabbed his shoulders to stop him from falling. His eyes glazed over and Hank watched him closely, trying to see if Connor was coming back to the real world.

"Hank…" Connor's voice was so quiet that Hank almost didn't hear. It also trembled. He looked at his hands. There was some blood on them. He tilted his head. "What…?"

What he did still didn't register. Hank doubted it would register for a while unless he saw Blondie-McAsshole's state. However, Hank did not want him to see that. It was too grotesque for a kid to see. Even Hank had trouble looking at the mangled, destroyed head.

"Let's get out of here," Hank said.

He kept an arm around Connor's shoulder and started to lead him to the stairs. Connor tried to look behind him to see Blondie-McAsshole, but Hank blocked his view. He, again, pushed Connor in front of him and up the stairs. Connor huffed and continued his way up thankfully. He closed the door the second they left the room and entered the PT hallway.

When Connor realized what he did, it would probably hit him like a train. Hank didn't doubt the kid was familiar with death. However, that didn't mean he was okay with murder. It also didn't mean that Connor killed someone before. And if he did, it wasn't to this extent. Connor simply wasn't that kind of person.

Another thing that sucked for Hank was that he would have to find a way to explain it in a way that made sense. He would cross that bridge when they got to it and he really hoped it would take a while to come.

"Finally," Connor said, slumping a bit. "I never thought we'd get out."

"Yeah," Hank said, distracted.

He still didn't have his gun. He had to conclude that Zlatko had it. If he didn't, then there was a chance that the Sterns put it in a place that would make it look like he killed Jerry 2. In a way, he did. But he was not the one who pulled the trigger. Or perhaps the remaining security guards had it. He didn't know and it made him way too frustrated.

He also needed his coat to get his phone to call Jeffrey. Maybe that was also in the security room. Shit. Why did the Sterns have to make everything so complicated?

"What exactly do we do now?" Connor asked, rubbing his hands together.

"Find my phone to call my boss to get some back-up," Hank replied. "And get my gun."

The two of them started to leave the hallway. It was only a matter of time until Shaolin and even Luther to see what happened in the room. As for Zlatko...Hank felt that was a different matter entirely.

"Will there be back-up in time?" Connor asked.

Hank huffed. "Jeffrey has people ready the moment I tell him I need back-up. Helicopters and shit, probably. There'll probably be officers waiting on the dock when we get back to Detroit."

Connor hummed. "Okay…"

Hank ruffled his hair. Connor didn't swat his hand away.

"Let's try my room first," Hank said, abruptly. "Maybe they were stupid and left my stuff there."

"If we're lucky," Connor said.

Hank scoffed. "Yeah, if we're lucky."

Hank couldn't help but notice that Connor seemed a bit different after what happened. A lot of tension, or it seemed like a lot to Hank, seemed to have left his body. His posture was more relaxed and not nearly as stiff.

Maybe Connor, out of reality or not, had been wanting to kill Blondie-McAsshole for a long time.

Author's Note: And so, Daniel is dead. Told you something interesting would happen with Connor and Daniel. Poor Connor though. It'll hit him hard soon enough.
Also, thank you Higurashi: When They Cry- Tatarigoroshi. Keiichi killing Satoko's uncle with the bat is something that always stuck with me and also inspired how Connor would kill Daniel.

Oh yeah, five more chapters until we're done.

That's all for now. I'll see ya'll in the next chapter.

Thanks for reading!

~Kurosaki