Welcome back everybody and now, if we're all sitting comfortably, let's kick this story up a notch.
xXBalorBabeXx, I know right? Dean was such a man in that last chapter and was too busy thinking with his pride!
Cheryl24, When you put it like that I feel sorry for him! It's definitely been a long day for poor Roman (although it might not be over quite yet…)
Rebel8954, Yep, Dean was definitely reacting with pride and hurt feelings more than anything else (typical man really!) It's like a couple having their first ever fight, only Dean's not very good with fights and needs to have the last word. Still, he feels bad about it in this chapter (Seth is also a good boy here too. Brock? Eh, not so much!)
Mandy, Thank you. The last scan results were what we had hoped for, so now mum just needs to start treatment which while hopefully work well. All very uncertain here, but such is life unfortunately. Hope things are going okay with you (or at least going better than they are for Dean in this chapter!)
Skovko, Yep and unfortunately Dean doesn't think things through too well when his feelings have been hurt!
Lunatic789, I love him as Shaw in Lockdown. I want to try and write a Shaw fic, but the character isn't as easy to write as Dean is because he's quite serious and not quirky like Dean/Mox. One day I'll get around to it though!
Wolfgirl2013, Thank you!
XwwecoyoteX, You hit the nail on the head with that. They both want to do the right thing, but they have different ideas of how. I mean, obviously Roman's is the most sensible, but in Dean's defence, he is learning how to have a partner for the first time ever (not including Seth of course!)
Minnie1015, Haha, you've seen nothing yet in the way of cliffhangers (evil laugh). Glad you want to keep the suspense high though!
Phoenix lord of rebirth, Aww, thank you so much, I'm glad you're still enjoying it!
Here we go again!
TWENTY ONE
The stupid thing is, he's not angry at Roman. Or okay fine, so maybe he is. But he gets it too. He totally gets it and besides which he's mostly kind of pissed at himself for expecting that the big guy would even want to come with him just two hours after having been run off the road. And yet rather than respond like a rational adult, he had gone and fired the best temp he'd ever had. And possibly the best friend he'd ever had for that matter.
He looks down at Seth,
"Okay, be honest. Did I go in too hard on the whole you're either with me or you're not deal?"
Seth lets out a snort which Dean takes as an affirmative, then growls as a man passes by them in the street. Because Seth could totally be a policeman.
Unlike him.
Dean groans,
"Okay okay. But I mean, it's not like he thought I was serious. He knows that I was just kinda sayin' stuff, right? Brock what do you think? Got anythin' to say here?"
The big bull mastiff snaps his teeth at a passing moth, then scrambles back as it boops him on the nose tip and clearly scares the crap out of him.
Seth snarls at it.
"Okay fine. I'll go round tomorrow an' give him his job back. Ugh,yes and apologize dude, get off my back."
Thanks to the fact that his car has been totalled, the walk to St. Francis' takes nearly an hour, although given the crappy freaking day he's been having, the peace and quiet is kind of nice. Not that Cinci is ever totally quiet, but ten o' clock in the winter is about as close as it gets and besides which, he likes to feel the neighborhoods changing and watch the spire of St Francis' begin to get close.
It looks dark inside because it isn't a holiday and he guesses that everyone else has gone home, but having learnt his lesson from the god damn funeral he hitches the dogs to the railings outside and then leaves strict instructions for Seth, who glowers at him.
"Anyone tries to grab ya, you bark for me okay? An' Brock, just try an' look real mean or somethin'."
The mastiff sneezes which unleashes a trail of drool that plasters itself all over the entrance and makes Seth jump backwards in revulsion.
Dean blinks,
"Okay, new plan. Do that."
Not that he likes the thought of leaving them out there and stepping into the towering building alone, since he and god aren't exactly best buddies and creeping in through the doors kind of feels like breaking in. Christ. Maybe Reigns' goodie two shoes-ness has kind of rubbed off on him. And okay, maybe he shouldn't say Christ.
He sucks in a breath,
"Okay, wish me luck dudes," then slides through the doors and into the church, where he finds –
Well, nothing. He finds absolutely nothing, since the place is pretty much solidly black. So much so that he walks into a column and then curses instinctively
And also super loudly.
"Fuck. Henry?" he calls out into the darkness, rubbing his nose and trying to let his eyes adjust. He can hear distant voices in the gloom somewhere in front of him, so keeps on heading forwards with his hands stuck right out, slowly beginning to notice the pew shapes and the tall aqua columns and the pulpit up ahead. Further behind it he can just make out an outline of a door with light pooling out underneath and so he stumbles towards it – stubbing his foot against the podium – and then barges on through, blinking into the light, which triggers another small bout of sharp cussing,
"Oh holy crap."
"Ambrose? Is that you?"
Lifting his arm up against the harsh halogens, Dean screws his face up and squints into the room, which seems to be some sort of a church office, where Henry and Christopher Hurley are stood. Or more like trying to face off with each other, although both of them have stopped so they can blink at him.
"Uh, hey."
"What in god's name are you doing in here?" Christopher barks, almost hysterical in tone, which is the first clue Dean gets that maybe something is wrong there. Even though in the moment he's too baffled to know what, as both of the Hurleys frown at him in bewilderment.
"What do you mean what am I doin' here? Why don't you ask your kid? He's the one that text me, an' hold on a freakin' second, what are you doin' here?"
"That's what I was trying to ask him," Henry sniffs back. His fists are balled up, but he has his thumbs on the insides which means the kid has never been in a fight before, or possibly even witnessed one to that point. Dean reaches out and then pushes his hands down.
"Let's just do this before you hurt yourself, alright? There dude, that's better. Now will someone please tell me what the fuck is goin' on here?"
Fuck. He'd said fuck again. Although since they're stood in a crummy little back room he figures it doesn't technically count as the church.
Hurley huffs. Christopher Hurley that is and crap, this is going to be extra difficult.
"I don't know. All I know is that I got a text from Henry asking me to meet him here. Which I assumed was going to be some sort of apology for missing his mother's funeral and yet," he shrugs, "Here we are."
His offspring gapes back at him,
"I didn't miss her funeral. You didn't invite me."
"I didn't need to, you were her son," Christopher retorts with irrefutable reasoning, "I assumed you would be there as a mark of respect and anyway, why would I invite the man who killed her?"
"Me?" Henry shrieks supremely shrilly, "But that was you. You're the person who murdered my mother."
"Why how dare you insinuate – ,"
"Hey – ," Dean bellows out, his gruff bark ringing out over the bickering as he rubs at his temples. He really shouldn't have hit himself at the office before, considering he can sense a freaking migraine developing. Although that might be the episode of Jerry Springer he's walked into.
Murdered baby mamas and billionaires gone wild.
"Look, how about we try an' freakin' start this thing over. One at a time," he snaps as both men open their yaps, before pointing a finger at the younger of the Hurleys, "Okay. You first, what the hell is going on?"
Henry shrugs back at him reluctantly,
"I – I don't know. One of the guys in the squat passed a note to me that said to meet here. I didn't know who it was from. I guessed it was Batista with some new information, but instead he was here."
"Batista?" Hurley gapes, so hard that his eyes nearly pop from their sockets, "My bodyguard has been passing information to you?"
"Yes, which is how I know that it was you who killed my mother."
"How could I kill her? I loved her," Hurley gasps, his eyes filling with tears just like they had done at the funeral. Which makes Dean squirm a little, because they look really real, like maybe Hurley really had adored Ella. Except he couldn't have done, because he'd totally killed her.
Right?
"She was my world," he chokes a bit, "You both were."
"Then why did you drive me away?" Henry asks and oh god, are those tears in his eyes to match his father's? Because if they are then Dean isn't sure he can cope. Where the fuck is freaking Oprah when you need her?
Hurley sniffles,
"I didn't. That was your mother's idea. She thought if we cut off the money, you'd come back to us."
"I thought you'd stopped loving me."
Hurley coughs,
"Never son. You're my child. I could never stop loving you."
"Dad?" Henry bawls, but there isn't a question attached since instead the kid has flung his chubby arms open and is moving towards his father who meets him at once, in what can only be described as a freaking Hallmark moment and a huge fucking colossal freaking waste of Dean's time.
Except for one teeny tiny leftover question.
"So then why did you text us?" Dean frowns across the hug, which breaks things up although not that he's sorry. They can hug on their own time.
Henry frowns,
"Huh?"
"Why the fuck did you text us to come down here?" Dean presses again.
"I – I didn't," Henry shrugs, "I mean, I couldn't have. I lost my cell phone last weekend when the cops came by and raided the squat. Probably because I know too many dangerous secrets."
Dean lifts a brow,
"What? Like the moon landing stuff?"
Not picking up on the withering sarcasm, Henry Hurley nods proudly,
"Yes. Well that and other things."
Behind him his father frowns back in bewilderment,
"So then why would the police text and call us all here? It doesn't make sense."
"No," Dean grumbles darkly, "It doesn't."
Although the hair at the back of his neck is kind of prickling, like he's being an idiot and overlooking something big. Something that was worth trying to run him off the road for, something worth stringing Ella Hurley up for.
Somewhere outside he hears Seth bark sharply, because frankly he would know the pitchy yap anywhere – like a penguin mom finding her chick in a colony like he had seen on a nature documentary once – and it fires a cold bolt of dread through his system. Well, that and the sound of light footsteps from behind.
His back is to the door but he can still see the Hurleys, who look towards the sound and then promptly turn white, like maybe they have seen a damn poltergeist or something.
Dean frowns at them,
"What?" then spins towards the door where a woman has emerged from the shadows with a handgun which yep, of course she's pointing right at his chest. Although as it turns out, that isn't even the kicker.
Not even freaking close to it.
Christopher Hurley lets out a gasp and then drops to the floor like a gothic novel damsel as beside him Henry continues to blink, his eyes raking over the middle aged woman with her blonde hair loosely wrapped up in a shawl, who couldn't freaking possibly be who Dean thinks it is.
No way and no how.
Henry splutters at her,
"Mom?"
Surprise!