Words cannot even express how happy I am to see so many people enjoying this story! For those who might not know and want to check them out, I have written other crossovers for Edge of Tomorrow and other Statham films (not to mention a whole pile of other crossovers with Emily Blunt and Jason Statham) in the past. These crossovers are called: Edge of Redemption, Expendables on the Edge, and the Edge of Expendable series. They're some of my earlier work, so I know I've come a long way since then in my writing.

Anyway, here's another chapter. Songs that inspired it include: Fists, Knives, and Chains by Brian Tyler, Interlude by John Ottman, and Bad Way to Live by Brian Tyler

Also, just a reminder of the trigger warning from the prologue for this story. There's some triggering stuff in here especially.

1987

Montana, U.S.

Lance had his fingers in his hair as he rested his head on his hand. He was pounding his other finger on a calculator. Tax time was always draining.

"Daddy?"

He glanced over briefly to see Rita standing in the doorway with her backpack slung over her shoulder before looking back at his work.

"Yes, luv?" he asked. Carol was out shopping. Simon had joined a soccer team and needed supplies. He hadn't even heard the bus drop Rita off.

"Do I talk funny?"

"What?" he asked, finally looking at her properly.

"Do I talk funny?" she repeated. He shifted in his chair, leaning back and frowning.

"No?"

"The boys say I talk funny."

"Oh," he said. He was surprised it hadn't come up until now, but as kids got older, they started to get meaner. He knew this.

"So, do I?"

"No, luv. You have an accent. That doesn't mean you talk funny."

"They laugh at me," Rita said, her voice small.

"Come here," Lance instructed, and she set her bag down before obliging. He picked her up and rested her across his legs, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking at her full on. "You're totally normal, okay? Don't let them make fun of you because there's nothing to make fun of. We have an accent. So what? One day, the boys will go crazy over it and want to be your friend because you'll be considered cool."

"Really?"

"Oh, yea. Don't let it fizz you. They're just being idiots."

"Okay."

Lance smiled at her, and she smiled back. Then he frowned as he noticed a mark on her arm just under her shirt sleeve. It had slid up when he picked her up.

"What's this?" he asked, pulling it back to reveal finger marks. Rita stiffened, and a look of fear flashed through her eyes. Lance was immediately on full alert. "Rita, tell me."

"It was an accident," she said.

"What was?"

"I almost fell off the monkey bars, and my friend grabbed my arm to stop me."

Lance studied his daughter carefully. He knew she was lying, but he didn't know why. Who would she be protecting? His mind went through all the possible scenarios. He had considered Simon in the past, but he couldn't find anything out of the ordinary so far, and Rita had seemed fine for the last while. When he looked at the finger marks and examined the size of them, he knew it definitely wasn't an adult's hand.

"You'd tell me if someone was hurting you, right?" he asked her after a moment. She nodded slowly.

"I would," she answered.

"You promise?"

"I promise."

He had to let it go for now, but he was going to be watching her more closely. Something was afoot, and he was going to find out what. If it was Simon, that boy was gonna dearly pay.

...

A few days later, Rita was with Simon by the creek. He was going fishing, and he'd invited her along. At 12, he was starting to change. Rita still experienced mixed emotions with him, and she didn't fully trust him. He had gone a long time without doing anything to her, but then this week he'd grabbed her arm and shook her hard behind the school after she'd seen him bully another kid. He'd warned her not to tell, and she'd promised.

Ever since her father asked about the marks on her arm, Rita was careful to wear long sleeve shirts. She refrained from anything that would threaten to expose what Simon had done to her. She didn't want to get killed, and she knew Simon would keep that promise if she told on him. His actions towards her in the past had usually always included hitting her in some way, choking her at times, and calling her names. Then, he'd found other kids at school to torment, and he'd left her alone. It had provided her with relief, but she felt bad and guilty that her relief came at the expense of someone else. She didn't know how to tell someone, though. She was scared that if she did, Simon would go back to hurting her full time.

"Stop here," Simon said now, gesturing. He got set up with his rod and bait, and she sat at the edge of the water with her boots and socks off. The water was cold, but she kept dipping them in anyway. Simon didn't talk as he cast and reeled in slowly. Rita stayed quiet as well. She felt safe currently. He wasn't giving off any signals that he was going to be dangerous. She thought about some of the fun times they'd had together in the last while. Simon wasn't all bad. She just wished he wouldn't let the demon inside of him take over. That's what she was calling it anyway. That's what made sense.

After thirty minutes, she was beginning to feel relaxed, and that's when she was caught off guard.

She yelped as Simon lifted her up by the back of her shirt and hauled her into the river with him. She screamed instinctively, and he struck her in the face hard. Stunned, she had no chance to do anything before he shoved her under the water and held her head there. She struggled, flailing her arms to no avail. Simon had her in his grip in a way that she couldn't escape. After what felt like forever, he lifted her head out, and she gasped for air. Before she could say anything, he shoved her back down. Rita's mind was racing. Was he going to kill her this time? Had he decided he was done sparing her from that? Did he think she'd told on him?

He lifted her out again, and she begged him to stop.

"I didn't tell, Simon!" she shrieked. "I swear I didn't tell! Please stop! Stop!" He put her under once more, and she struggled. The current was strong, and she felt it pull at her. If he let her go, she'd get swept away.

"Simon!" she screamed when he pulled her out again. He was laughing, and she realized he wasn't doing it because he thought she'd told on him. He was doing it because it was fun for him to see her in distress. She suddenly hated him in this moment. She managed to twist and kicked his knee under the water. He exclaimed and lost his footing, causing him to let her go. The current took her instantly, and she was dragged under. Rita did her best to remember all her swimming lessons from her father. She was no match for the current, though. She broke the surface briefly, gulping in air before sinking under again. She tried to reach and grab something, anything, to stop her from going down the river, but there was nothing. She figured she was going to die, and she felt oddly at peace. She'd see her mother finally.

She felt things slow down and become blurry. She accidentally gulped in water and pressed her lips shut. This was the end. After a moment, she couldn't help it. She gulped more water.

A hand grabbed her shoulder and yanked her up. Then the person hauled her to shore. She was dropped on her back to see Simon leaning over her.

"Rita?" he said, sounding scared. "Rita?!"

She couldn't make a sound, so he lifted her up and began pounding on her back. After a moment, she vomited out the water and began coughing and crying.

"I'm sorry," Simon said, pulling her into him and rocking her back and forth. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

She sobbed, and he held her tight. This side of him made her think he was a good person, and she wished he showed this side more often than not.

"I...wanna...go...home," she managed to say.

"Yea, let's go," he agreed, picking her up. He piggy-backed her home, and Carol shrieked when she saw them.

"What happened?!" she shouted, rushing to them.

"Rita fell in," Simon answered. "I managed to pull her out, but Mum, it was scary..."

"Oh my God," Carol gasped, taking Rita from him and holding her close. "Are you alright, baby? Oh you poor thing. Oh God."

Rita just cried and shivered hard. Simon was shivering too. Carol took them both inside and got them warmed up and changed. Rita didn't say that Simon had tried to drown her. She knew better. She took in the fact that he could have let her drown and didn't, so that must mean he cared about her a little. She felt confused.

When her father got home, Carol told him the story, and he pulled Rita into a hug and told her how much he loved her.

"Was it an accident?" he asked her quietly when no one was listening. She wondered if she could tell him, but Simon's old warning echoed in her mind. She knew she couldn't. She nodded her head, and he looked at her for a long moment before sighing and letting it go.

One day, she might tell him. One day.

London, U.K.

Luke was hiding behind the couch, fearing that this was going to be the end. His father was in a rage and throwing his mother around. The screaming and shouting was almost deafening. Luke wanted to step in and help, but his mother had forbidden him from doing that, and he listened to his mother. The one time he didn't listen to her, she hadn't talked to him or acknowledged his existence for a week no matter how hard he'd tried. He'd hated it.

"Useless piece of shit!" Johnny was shouting now.

"I messed up!" Jess cried. "I'm sorry!"

Luke gathered they were talking about her last mission. She'd told Luke it had been sloppier than intended because things didn't go according to plan. It didn't look like an accident, and she was at risk of being found out.

"If they come after you, don't come crying to me for help," Johnny warned. Luke listened for cues that the fight was calming down.

"I won't," Jess said, her voice trying to sound tougher than she felt. Luke hated that she wouldn't fight back. Why she let Johnny pound on her and throw her around was beyond him. He knew his mother could fight. He'd seen her.

"Where's the boy?" Johnny asked.

"Leave him alone," Jess started.

"BOY!" Johnny bellowed. "Come out here!"

"Luke, stay put!" Jess shouted. Luke felt conflicted as he heard his father search for him. He crawled underneath the couch, holding his breath. He let out a yelp when, moments later, a hand grabbed his ankle and dragged him out.

"There ya are," Johnny said.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Jess screamed, trying to intervene. Johnny shoved her back down. He hauled Luke up by the scruff of his shirt.

"Since you don't seem to take the job seriously, maybe this will teach you a lesson," Johnny said, shoving Luke towards the door ahead of him.

"No!" Jess shouted. "NO!"

"Come on," Johnny said as Luke tried to muscle out of his grip. It didn't matter how much training he had, though. His father was bigger and stronger than him and knew more. Johnny put his hand around the back of his neck tight and twisted his right arm behind him so he couldn't fight back. They went to his car, and Johnny shoved him into the backseat and got in to start the car. Luke opened the back door and jumped out as they started moving, and he hit the ground hard, rolling to a stop. Johnny stopped the car and got out. Luke got to his feet and ran, but his father was faster.

"Johnny! Leave him alone!" Jess was still shouting as she came outside. Johnny caught Luke and wrapped an arm around his neck, hauling him back to the car.

"You could have made this easy," he said, dragging Luke the whole way. He opened the trunk and pulled out duct tape. He forced Luke's arms behind his back and taped his hands together. Then he picked Luke up by the feet and dropped him into the trunk. Luke started to yell, and Johnny ripped off another piece of tape and put it over his mouth. Then he shut the trunk with a bang. Luke was breathing hard in the darkness, trying not to have a heart attack. He banged around as Johnny drove erratically, his mother's screams getting farther and farther behind.

...

Luke was ready when his father opened the trunk. He lashed out with his feet, but his father, having anticipated that, moved out of the way easily.

"Amateur," he mocked, reaching in to pull Luke out. "Your mother always was a weak fighter too. If you're gonna learn from anyone, you're gonna learn from me." He slung Luke over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and walked towards the motel room. It was near the end, and no one else was around. Once inside, he set Luke down on a chair and stood back to look at him.

"You gonna give me anymore problems?" he asked. Luke shook his head. Johnny sighed and crossed his arms. "I don't believe you. I'm gonna let you sit and stew for a bit longer. Then we'll talk."

Luke watched as his father went to leave, and almost as if his father read his mind, he turned and came back, duct taping Luke's legs to the chair as well as wrapped tape around his chest and the back of the chair so he couldn't get up.

"I'll be back. Don't go nowhere," Johnny sniggered, dusting his hands off, grabbing his keys, and heading out the door. He locked it behind him.

Luke went through his mother's training on being detained. He was calm. He knew there was a way out of this. He waited until the rumble of his father's car was gone before he started inching the chair to the kitchenette. He got close to the table and got on his tiptoes, aiming it just right. Then he used all the force he had to shove the chair into the edge of the table. He repeated the motion over and over, the table sliding each time until it hit the opposite wall and stopped. Luke wasn't sure how long it would take for the chair to break, but he wasn't going to give up. After a long time, he heard the first splinter of wood. Feeling encouraged, he threw it back again. After the fourth time, it shattered, and he fell backwards, smacking his head off the table and landing on the floor hard. A piece of the chair rammed into his back.

"Ow," he said through the tape. Stinging and sore with his ankles screaming at him from all the effort and movement, he untangled himself from the broken pieces of the back of the chair. It was tedious, trying to pull out the pieces with his bound hands, but he slowly did it. His back was still attached to the top part of the chair, but it was no longer attached to the seat of the chair so he could move better. With his back on the floor on top of his bound arms, he rammed the bottom half of the chair onto the floor over and over until it broke and splintered off. Now his legs were just taped to the two legs of the chair, but he could stand and walk. He went to the drawers, twisting to pull them open with his bound hands. He turned to look and found a knife in one of them. He turned and carefully picked it up, positioning the blade so that it rested on top of the tape. He cut slowly, careful to not cut himself. He broke the tape after about halfway through it and freed his hands. He bent to cut his legs free from the chair legs, and then he cut the tape around his chest and heard the top of the chair clatter to the floor. Breathing hard and exhausted, he ripped the tape off his mouth.

At this point, his father had returned, so Luke went to stand by the door, knife in hand.

...

Johnny had a slight buzz on when he returned to the motel room. His anger at Jess was still there. Did she not realize what she'd done? It could put her at risk, and he didn't want her to get killed over her own stupidity. He knew the job was too hard for her, but she'd fought to do it, and now he regretted letting her. He'd taken Luke away because that was the only thing he could do that would actually hurt her. Nothing he did to her actually hurt her. He knew that. But Luke...Luke was her pride and joy. He'd keep him away for a bit to teach her a lesson. He figured he could train the boy a little bit too rather than let Jess have all the fun.

He opened the door to the motel room and promptly grabbed the hand flying at him by the wrist and twisted Luke around and threw him down on the floor. The knife clattered away from him.

"Well, shit," Johnny said, taking in the room. The chair was broken in pieces on the floor. The table was barely hanging in there from the beating it took. "Your mum isn't entirely useless then is she? She can teach."

"Let me go!" Luke shouted. Johnny picked him up and hauled him over to the next chair and threw him into it.

"Listen here," he said, kneeling in front of Luke with his hands firmly holding his legs. "This is for your own good. I ain't gonna hurt you." He felt Luke relax slightly under his hands. Did Luke really think he'd hurt him? Johnny knew he was a bastard to Jess, but he wouldn't harm the boy aside from a smack here and there if needed.

"While we're away, I can teach you some things," Johnny offered. He reached to wipe his nose with his arm and sniffed hard. "I know you hate me and all, but I can teach stuff."

"Why are you doing this to Mum?"

"Cos I'm mad at her," Johnny answered. "You know when you want to hurt someone real bad to make a point? Well, this is how I can hurt your mother. Lesson number one: always know your opponent's leverage."

He saw Luke taking it in. The loyalty to Jess was evident, but he could see the boy struggling to not look interested in learning new things. He smiled and patted Luke's leg.

"Your resilience was put to the test," Johnny added. "You sure showed me how to get out of a bind. Good work." One more pat to Luke's knee, and then he stood up to get some water. Luke stayed sitting in the chair, watching him.

Johnny had a feeling that by the end of this trip, Luke might have a little more respect for him.

Montana, U.S.

Rita had felt scared when Simon came to see her that night. She had feared he would blame her for what happened and hurt her again, but he had surprised her by asking her if she was okay. Then he had thanked her for not telling on him. When she had asked if he was mad at her, he had said no. Then he had done something that Rita had felt confused by. He had gotten into bed with her and held her, but he had touched something with his hand that he shouldn't have, and Rita had felt so confused by it because he had told her it was okay, that he had just wanted to make her feel good, and she had felt good, so she hadn't told him to stop.

Now, she felt tears going down her cheeks as she thought about it. It felt wrong, but she didn't want to make Simon angry by telling on him. She didn't know what to do. She turned on her side and pulled her knees into her chest, still crying. Simon was a very confusing person, and Rita felt so alone with the knowledge of everything he'd done to her.

...

Lance looked up when Rita came into the kitchen the next morning. He still was feeling the anxiety of having almost lost her yesterday, and Carol hadn't been able to help him feel better. He was still suspicious of Simon, but he couldn't voice that to Carol. She wouldn't believe him if he did.

"What's wrong, luv?" he asked his daughter after seeing her face.

"I had nightmares," Rita answered.

"Awww, come over here," Lance said, gesturing, and she went to him and buried her face into his waist as he hugged her. "It was really scary what happened yesterday wasn't it?"

"Uh huh," she answered, nodding her head. Lance kissed the top of her head and released her after a moment. Rita went to sit in her chair and looked down at the table.

"You hungry?" he asked.

"No."

He watched her carefully. Something was on her mind, but he figured she was having bad memories of almost drowning.

"How about we have a father-daughter day this weekend?" he suggested. Rita's eyes brightened at this, and she smiled at him.

"Okay," she said, sounding happy.

"You figure out what you'd like to do, and we'll do it," Lance offered. She nodded, still smiling. He smiled back, and then he moved to kiss her head again before picking up his lunch box and coat.

"See you tonight," he said.

"Bye, Daddy."

He went out the door and crunched across the gravel to his car. He looked back at the house to see Simon staring at him through his bedroom window. Lance paused, his hand reaching for the car door handle. For a moment, both of them just stared at each other. It gave Lance chills for some reason. Then Simon moved away, and Lance waited a moment before getting into his car and starting it. Something was not right with that boy, and Lance was eventually going to prove it.

London, U.K.

Three Days Later

Luke sat in the front with his father as they drove home. He thought about everything he'd learned in the last three days. Johnny had shown him how to get out of different body holds and how to dislocate parts of the body (without actually doing it to Luke). He also showed him how to find pressure points and where to stab someone to make them bleed out. Clearly, his father was more of a hand to hand combat person than his mother was. She was more into the guns than knives and fist fights, but she used them when she had to.

"Nothing wrong with that," Johnny had said when Luke had pointed that out. "But sometimes, you gotta know how to be able to fight when your weapons have been taken away from you. You're always armed. You just gotta know how to use 'em."

They pulled into the driveway now, and when Johnny stopped the car and killed the engine, he looked over at Luke.

"It wasn't all bad, eh?"

"No," Luke answered.

"Let's see how we did," Johnny said, getting out and heading for the house. Luke followed. Jess appeared and ran towards him, grabbing him into a tight hug.

"I missed you," she said over and over.

"You done being a bitch now?" Johnny asked.

"I hate you," Jess retorted.

"Love you too," he said, going inside. Jess pushed Luke back by his shoulders and examined him.

"Did he hurt you?" she asked.

"No."

"He's such an arsehole," she said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."

"I looked after myself," Luke told her, pulling out of her grip.

"Good lad," she called after him. He went inside and up to his room. He didn't know what to think or feel about his three day stint with his father, but he hadn't lied. It hadn't all been terrible. His father was an interesting, complicated man. He also had a hot temper, which Luke was beginning to recognize the buttons to avoid pushing to make him blow up.

Downstairs, his mother started to yell at his father again, and he sighed. It was going to be a long night.