.Hack: Penance
A .Hack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: Project .Hack and attached characters/concepts are property of Bandai and Cyber Connect. They are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.

Notes: Happens after the end of Quarantine. (Thoughts look like this.) This one's a little shorter than usual, which will be made up for in the next chapter when you-know-who starts talking about you-know-what; I blame my evil, evil schedule of tests this week for that. Also, the lyrics are from a certain Bobby Fuller song of some renown. You'll get it when you hear 'em :)

This chapter done to the tune of: Freedom Fighters OST - Isabella

Chapter 26 – Directionless

The vehicle was upon him almost before he could move; he leapt to his right, and would've dragged Miku along with him had she not been a step ahead, ducking in between a row of parked cars as the Range Rover sped by. They crouched down low, beneath the nearest car's hunter green frame out of sight.

"They were waiting for us!" hollered Dean. "Son of a bitch, they've been following us!"

Tires screeched loudly as the driver slammed on the brakes, and the ORV slid to a halt, its brake lights flashing brightly in the partially lit parking lot. Idling, three of the car's doors opened, and all but the driver stepped out, turning to where Dean and Miku hid.

"Dean?" hissed Miku, barely heard over the rumbling of the distant engine and approaching footsteps.

Silently, Dean touched a finger to his lips, and gingerly poked his head around the trunk of the car, eyeing their adversaries. (Why the hell would they come after us in public? Are they nuts, or desperate?)

As if he'd said it aloud, one of the men answered his question. "Come on out, Dean! We're not here to kill you!"

"How dumb do you think I am?!" Dean shouted back.

"How dumb do you think WE are?" asked a second man. "Look, just step out, this will only take a second."

Dean clenched his teeth, unable to get a clear look at the speakers, all quite well obscured in the fading light. "Damn it," he muttered. "What are they trying to pull..."

A low, disturbingly smooth and melodic voice spoke up, clearly not either of the two he had heard. His words carried a simple, familiar melody that was nonetheless mocking to the detective's ears.

"I needed money 'cause I... had none!"

Dean's blood ran cold. In disbelief, he stole another glance from behind the car. He couldn't be sure, but the middle of the three men had the right shape and size, and he could almost make out that same sinister grin.

"I fought the law and the... law won!"

Miku noticed Dean shudder, his hands tensing as if to form fists. "What's going on? Who is that?" she asked, half curious and half dubious.

His musical voice belted out the chorus once more, hitting the notes as if he'd written them himself. "I fought the law and the... law won!"

Dean gulped. "It's him. Felix."

Surrounding his grin, his perfect, pearly-white teeth, was skin tanned and devoid of wrinkles, nose and jaw rounded, eyes hazel and narrowed, auburn hair short, curly and thick. He was clad in a blue windbreaker with a white horizontal stripe, a pair of faded blue jeans, and black leather boots; his hands were in his pockets, the pants far too tight to possibly conceal a weapon.

"Takes you back, doesn't it?" called Felix. "Officer Stollis?"

Looking down at Miku, Dean said, "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Her brows knit together. "What?! Are you crazy??"

"No, and neither is he," he answered calmly. "He's not gonna shoot us here." Turning back to Felix, he yelled, "I'm coming out!"

Steeling his nerves, he stepped out from cover and into the open lot, facing the three men near the parked Range Rover. He couldn't identify either of the two men near Felix, though he was sure one was Asian, the other white.

"And there he is," chuckled Felix. "Long time, no see, Dean." His grin faded. "You never call, you never write. I was starting to think you didn't like me anymore."

A single stilted laugh piped through Dean's chest, though he was in no mood to counter one joke with another. "Getting set up and shived has a way of souring a man."

"So it would seem," said Felix in a low voice. "Then I'll get to the point. We know where you're going and we know why."

Despite himself, Dean relaxed just a little. "That's wonderful. You want a medal?"

"After you had mine taken away?" replied Felix, a touch of ice to his words. "No, we just want you to stay out of our business."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "That's it? You nearly run us down so you can tell me not to interfere?" His tone grew incredulous. "That's really it? That's what this is all about? Are you kidding? Tell me you're kidding."

"Aw, shut up!" spat the white goon, a lanky, blonde-haired man in a trenchcoat, clearly packing heat. "The only reason we're..."

"None of that," said Felix sternly, holding an arm out in front of the goon. "We wanted to make it clear that you're being watched." He paused, then smiled coldly. "Oh, and to tell you that we'll take care of your little friend, too. I assume you know which one."

Dean felt his chest tighten; from the sidelines, Miku saw his breathing shorten and his fists clench again. His jaw tightened, and he was almost visibly grinding his teeth together. "Felix, I swear to god... if you do ANYthing to that kid..."

"Yes, if I hurt a hair on his head, you'll kill every last one of us," Felix said with obvious scorn. "That's a given, don't you think?" His voice flattened. "Leave this one alone, Sergeant." He said the title as if it were a curse. "It's bigger than you know. Neither wants you dead unless you get in the way."

When Dean said nothing, Felix smiled wickedly. "Although, if I may be frank... I really hope you ignore this warning."

The analytical part of Dean's brain began wondering what Felix could be stalling for; the rest of him was quick to answer. "I'd hate to disappoint you... Captain."

Felix's face twitched, almost imperceptively. "Let's bottle up and go, gentlemen."

Turning away, the three started to get back in the Range Rover, but one of them – the Asian – stopped short, and threw a look at Dean; the expression on his face was hard to read from a distance, but the detective got the impression he was being studied.

"Sato, what are you waiting for? Move it!"

The Asian ignored the order, taking several long steps towards Dean. He, too, wore a trenchcoat, though it was tan, instead of the other thug's black. Dean caught a glimpse of a long object along the inside lining of the coat, one that looked suspiciously like the sheath of a katana.

"Why do you fight?" he said simply, his tone as dry as his aged, wrinkled skin.

Dean was visibly taken aback by the question. "Huh?" he muttered. "What are you talking about?"

"Who are you?" insisted the Asian. "Why are you here?!"

"Sato!" hollered Felix. "Goddamnit, get your ass in gear!"

Sato glanced back at the waiting Range Rover, then at Dean again. "This isn't over, boy," he said simply as he turned and headed back for the car, a noticeably unsteady sway to his walk.

Dean stood in silence as the car shifted gears and pulled away, several confused pedestrians watching as it left. He didn't hear Miku leave her hiding place to join him, and didn't know she was there until she spoke to him.

"What was all that about?" she asked, some measure of confidence in her speech now that the obvious danger was gone.

He looked at Miku, questions visible in his eyes. "I don't know about that Sato guy," he said, "but Felix..." he stopped, taking a deep breath. When he released it, he finished, "Felix... was my Captain back on the force. He's the guy who bribed me, the reason I got sent to prison. They caught us both."

Miku was surprised, though she hid it admirably. Her gaze followed the now-missing vehicle, her expression hardening. "That... explains a lot."

Dean dug through his pockets, fishing for his car keys. "You have no idea."

"You've reached the voicemail of Masamoto Aniki. I'm out of my office at the moment, please leave a message."

"Mas, it's Dean. I just saw Felix; he stopped us outside of some burger joint on the north side... uhh... shit, I forgot the name. Hey, Miku, what was... oh, nevermind. Anyway, he threatened us, me and Hiroshi. He's in a silver Range Rover, license plate LS-3909. There was some old guy named Sato with him, think he was Japanese; he had a katana with him, at least it looked like one. Gimme a call as soon as you get back in."

"Nothing?"

Dean folded the cell phone shut on the steering wheel, which he held with his free hand. "Ah, I figured he'd be out for the day. Worth a shot, though."

Miku leaned against the passenger door, her head on the window. "Why not just call 119?"

"Because that was a decoy," said Dean. "He could easily have warned us through any number of means; he likes being dramatic, but he's not crazy. Just like before, he's trying to get us to follow his lead."

"You're sure?" she asked.

"I'd bet my life on it," was his answer. He looked over at her, and immediately regretted the words.

Her eyes purposefully avoided his, and he could almost hear the unspoken question: would you bet someone else's?

Keeping watch on the road, Dean tried to speak as soothingly as possible. "I'm sorry about this. Are you all right?"

Her sigh was long and deep. "I'm fine," she replied after several seconds of silence.

Seeing red lights ahead, he took his foot off the gas and gently tapped the brake pedal. "You sure?" he asked again, unconvinced.

"Yes, I'm fine," she repeated in the exact same tone – no obvious hostility, anxiety, contempt, seemingly no emotions at all, and yet closely guarded, withdrawn. Her hair and clothes, more or less intact, were slightly disheveled, and her brown eyes seemed to stare down through the glove box, through the car and chassis, through the street that sped beneath their feat.

The realization hit him with all the subtlety and grace of a jackhammer on a gong. (I put her in danger,) he thought, horrified. Felix's words came back to him, haunting him. (I put them both in danger.)

The radio, all but inaudible, played a light tune of Japanese pop, a sugary coating to his toxic thoughts. (God knows they've both been through enough. Like she said, when we met, guys with guns broke into her house and tried to kill us both. And Hiro... he never would've gotten involved in my troubles if we hadn't been trying to exploit him... to use the bracelet.)

Images and scenes raced through his mind: black briefcases and small, unmarked bills; Internal Affairs breaking into his house and placing him under arrest; the Rams leading the Patriots 24-10 on TV; his old boss meeting a similar fate; him and another inmate ganging up on Dean in the exercise yard; a sharp, improvised knife drawing a line across his chest in blood.

He winced, almost able to feel the metal instrument against his skin. He heard Miku sniff, which brought him right back to the present, and the more recent past.

(Sato had a point,) he thought. (What AM I doing here?)

The doubts came roaring back, overwhelming him and making it difficult to concentrate. Hitting the turn signal, he eased the car towards the exit ramp, and drifted down to the stoplight below. (Am I doing any good by staying? Would they... would they in more danger if I wasn't here? Or less?)

"I'm sorry," he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.

"I know," she replied quietly, though not softly, instead with a hint of regret. That hint was aided by her next three words: "So am I." The words were so quiet, he couldn't be sure whether or not she meant for them to be heard.

As the light changed, Dean felt a different kind of knife twisting itself into his chest.

- End of Chapter 26