A/N: Hi guys. I'm really sorry for the delay in updates (Again). I have posted a couple of one-shots for the Walking Dead recently, but in truthfulness I've been struggling in updating all my stories. I've not been too well recently. Hospitals and all that jazz. But I am convinced that one of the doctors I met is going to be my husband (He just doesn't know it yet) :-)
Also guys, another reason why the updates have been so infrequent recently; you may remember me saying a few chapters ago that I was from Scotland. Well, if you don't already know (But I'm sure many of you will), Scotland has been spending the last two years trying to gain it's independence from the UK. I personally was out campaigning quite a bit for independence, but unfortunately it wasn't to be (This time). Totally devastated.
But thank you all so much for the reviews/alerts/favourites and just for taking the time to read this story. Very much appreciate it :)
………
Chapter Seventeen
One action could change a life forever. Be it your own or someone else's. It had been the 22 years on the force that had taught him that. 22 years which had taught him that life was far too short and far too cruel to waste time on the minor things. The things that could all be sorted at the end of the day. Things like abiding by legal speed limits as he powered through the busy streets of Washington towards The Stabbington household.
With knuckles turning white as his grip on the steering wheel tightened, Max could do nothing but send up a silent prayer that he wasn't too late. That getting caught behind the sea of cyclists a few blocks back hadn't been the difference between finding Rapunzel safe and well or in eternal rest. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he couldn't stop his heart from lurching at the sight of Fergus anxiously biting on his thumb nail, his knee bouncing rapidly as he focused his gaze out to the road in front of him.
"We're going to find her." Max affirmed, the car swiftly turning a corner "I promise you, we're getting her back."
Unable to speak, Fergus could only nod; a soft squeeze to the shoulder from Conrad sitting in the back, bringing him a small sense of comfort. He'd be lying if he said he didn't trust the two officers. Right from the beginning he had been impressed with Max's determination. His need and want to bring Rapunzel home safely, and not just from a professional level. Glancing over at the ageing detective, Fergus felt the pain radiate off of him. He suspected that Max's drive to find his daughter ran deeper than he let on. That the whole event had caused something deep to rise up within him. Something that he had been desperately trying to bury and keep hidden for far too long. He could only pray that one day the detective would find peace.
Turning into another corner, Fergus was snapped out of his thoughts when Max slammed his foot on the brake, bringing the car to an abrupt halt outside an equally run down and tired looking house as that of Flynn Rider's.
The street itself was relatively quiet, large overgrown hedges between each garden blocking out any prying neighbours views. A blessing or a curse, Max wasn't too sure. Wasting no time, and with a command for His Highness to stay where he was, Max and Conrad quickly made their way up the cracked wobbly concrete steps towards the rotting house. Much like the Rider residence, the paintwork was slowly chipping away; small flecks of green and red lying in amongst the weed riddled flowerbeds. But at that moment, Max wasn't interested in the slightest in what the place looked like. He couldn't care less if he found the Princess in a hut or a mansion, just as long as he found her.
"Quick questions." Max informed the young officer as he pulled out his pen and notebook "No dilly dallying. I want in that house as soon as possible."
"But sir..." Conrad began, halting the older detective as he went to bang on the door "Shouldn't we call for back-up?"
"We may not have the time." Max replied "Waiting can get you killed. They already know that every cop in the city will be hunting for them after the failed drop off. We'll get the answers we need then call them in."
With his stomach dropping, Conrad gave a shaky nod. He didn't have a good feeling about his superiors plan at all. Going into a potential dangerous situation without back-up went against everything he was taught at the academy, but before he could open his mouth in protest again, Max was banging away furiously on the door.
"I'm comin', I'm comin'!" Came the angry call of a woman.
At the sound of deadbolts being released and chains jangling, Max could feel the agitation threaten to burst out, his usual cool demeanour a thing of the past. Holding his breath he couldn't help but bounce slightly on the balls of his feet as the door swung open to reveal a rather pissed looking woman, her wild black hair scraped up into a messy bun on top of her head. Max could tell just by looking at her that she was a lady who spent time chasing after her youth. There was no doubt in his mind that she was probably very beautiful back in her younger days; her high cheekbones and wide blue eyes an enviable feature by most.
But she wasn't the one who he was looking for.
"Can I help you?" She tutted, a hand flying to her popped hip, her fingers drumming against the red velvet of her sweat pants.
"I'm Detective Maximus Guard." Max began, his patience already wearing thin "This is my colleague, Officer Conrad Forest. I'm looking for a Scott and Michael Stabbington, or even Flynn Rider, if possible. Are any of them here, Ms..."
"Gothel." The woman finished for him, opening the door a little wider as her brows knitted together is distrust "Can I ask what this is about, Detective?"
Max couldn't stop the annoyance bubbling up within him at the woman's arrogance.
"I'm sorry ma'am." Was the Detective's reply "I can't disclose that information until you tell me if they are here or not, and how you are connected to the two."
"I'm their mother." She muttered crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned against the door "...And to answer your previous question, no. They're not here. Haven't seen or heard from them for a few days, and as for Flynn. I haven't seen the boy in weeks...Now can you tell me what this is regarding?"
With a hidden roll of the eyes, Max looked down to his note pad. All hope he had felt igniting within him was quickly snuffed out. A feeling he was never going to get used to, he was sure.
"We are looking for Mr Rider." Came his vague answer "We're needing to ask him a few questions and we were informed that he may be with your sons."
"Well, like I said." She carried on, waving a hand over her shoulder "They're not here." With a sigh, Max gave a soft nod. Ready to say his 'thank you' and 'goodbye' "But..." Gothel continued, the old detective snapping up to look at her "They have been spending a lot of time at their Grandfather's house in Dickerson. He died, leaving the house. It's where the boys like to spend some 'quiet time'...Maybe you'll find Flynn there."
Wanting to pinch himself to see if he was dreaming or not, Max quickly demanded the address of the Grandfather's property before giving a nod of thanks and pulling Conrad back towards the car.
"Call the office!" Max exclaimed as they climbed into the car, Fergus immediately sitting up at the urgency behind the detectives words "Give the address and ask for that back-up! We're going to get these assholes!"
………
He couldn't keep the grin off his face as he haphazardly stuffed their belongings into the worn out duffel. Glancing over at Mike, Scott nodded for him to start emptying the chest of drawers, all the while grabbing the camera and stuffing it into the bag. Running a hand through his hair, he looked around the room to see if there was anything that he missed. Not long, and they would be on the road.
"You get everythin'?" Scott mumbled, slinging his duffel onto his broad shoulder as Mike finished filling his own bag.
Nodding, a small smirk broke out across Mike's face, his fist clenching tightly around the handle of his own duffel in excitement.
"Well then, let's go get our Princess."
Stalking out of the room, Scott and Mike slowly trudged up the old rickety staircase; each step they took a thundering reminder to the young girl in the attic that it was no dream that she was living in. That hell had broken loose on her life. Sharing one last smile, Scott wasted no time kicking the door open, a small gasp escaping past Rapunzel's lips.
Sitting in the corner, knees pulled close to her chest and hands tied tightly behind her back, Rapunzel tried her hardest to fight back the tears that were threatening to fall. They got off on fear; the sick bastards who had changed her life in so many ways, and she'd be damned if she was going to feed their lust. With toes curling she followed the two brothers with her eyes as they thumped slowly into the room, their grins dripping with malice.
"Hope you're ready for a road trip, Sunshine." Scott spoke, finding a perch on the end of the bed across from her.
"Where is he?" Came Rapunzel's reply, her teeth clenched as she fought to maintain her calm "What did you do to him?"
With a slight chuckle, Scott looked to his brother, their mirrored grins causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end.
"He, uh..." Scott said, turning his attention back to her as he scratched the back of his neck "He's currently a little 'indisposed'..."
"And what the hell does that mean?" She growled, her eyes darkening with anger.
"Dead." Mike answered.
Feeling fresh tears burn the back of her eyes, Rapunzel never broke her gaze with the monster sitting before her. She wasn't going to let him see her collapse. She wasn't going to give him that control. The only thing that would weep in his presence were the tiny cuts on her hands from where her nails had dug in.
"Must make you feel like a real man." She spat out "So what now? Hmm?"
"Now..." Scott began, standing from his seat on the bed "We're burnin' this place down and gettin' the hell out of here. Sound good to you Princess?"
"...I can hardly wait."
………
It was the fire in his shoulder that reminded him he was still alive. The pounding in his ribs had soften to a dull throb, and the small burn to his thigh from the cigarette had quickly become masked from the stench of petrol invading his nose. But as much as his body was becoming accustomed to the pain, the weakness that he felt was unlike anything he had ever experienced in his life.
He wasn't shy to physical attacks. Growing up with a dad like his, in their household, it was just another Friday night. With the lifestyle he once led, getting a beating or giving a beating happened all too often. He couldn't be certain, but he was starting to believe that all those nights of agony over the years was just God's way of preparing him for that moment. Preparing his body for what he was surprised hadn't killed him already. But the weakness was something else entirely. With head hung low, Flynn couldn't deny that he wanted nothing more than to give up. Wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and step into the light. Into peace. But the thought of leaving her here in the world that he had dropped her into, he knew that death wasn't an option at that moment. So instead, he tried to pull.
As the pain from the bullet wound ripped through his arm, Flynn couldn't stop the cry from bursting forth. A loud growl from within his chest. Tried as he might, he tugged at the bonds round his wrists; the rope cutting deeper and deeper into his flesh, but not once did they slacken. With a strangled cry he slumped forward again, his hair drying to the blood on his forehead. It was no use trying to fight the inevitable. They had won...or at least that's what he thought before his mind began to drift back to the scuffle from before in the living room.
Snapping up, Flynn looked over his shoulder catching the briefest glimpse of the Swiss Army Knife in his back pocket. Ignoring the pain and stretching in his shoulder, his fingers absently reached out and brushed against it. He had always been good with his hands; a trait which he hadn't used for much good in the past, but the second he wedged the knife between his middle finger and index, he was happy enough to send up a silent prayer of thanks.
Gingerly, he pulled the knife from his pocket. Sweat and blood slowly crept into his eyes as he focused all his attention on not dropping it, the thought of it slipping from his fingers sent a shiver up his spine. But soon it was in his hand, and he could breath a sigh of relief as he felt for the blade. With wrist bent upwards, and knife held tightly in between his clammy palms, Flynn quickly began to slide the weapon up and down against the fibres of his bonds, his gaze never leaving the stairwell before him.
"Don't come down here..." Was his chant as one by one the layers of rope began to snap away "Don't fucking come down here..."
Grunting from the pain in his shoulder, Flynn pushed back the tears as the rope finally gave way and fell to the floor behind him. Wasting no time, he got to his feet, the sudden movement knocking him slightly as he fought to regain his balance. But with all the strength he could muster, he staggered towards the many boxes that filled the room. Flynn figured that after Scott and Mike's Grandfather had passed, most of his stuff had been boxed and hidden away until they had the time to go through it all, so he was positive that there had to be something within all the crap that he could use.
Knocking them over, he furiously began to tear at the tape on each box, his heart pounding away in his chest, promising to break out at any moment. But all he found was old newspapers and magazines. With his anger building up he moved from box to box, kicking and ripping apart as many as he could until he came across something of use. Clothes, trophies, video tapes. The place was quickly becoming a sea of junk, but as he reached for the sixth box, he couldn't help but smile at what he found.
"Thank you Louis!" He cried, pulling out the old Louisville Slugger from the box and kissing it appreciatively "Let's go and put an end to this now."
………
The usual hour long drive had taken them less than forty minutes, a new record, Max was sure. By the time they had arrived outside the run down shack, the sun had finished setting leaving the sky black and littered with stars. Any other night he would have stopped to stare up at it's beauty. Something he did long ago with her. But tonight he couldn't. Tonight he was entering into what he could only describe as a battle ground. Killing the engine, the three men stared up at the decaying home. The placed looked as if no one had set foot in it in years, but Max knew differently. The battered tuck sitting outside proving that.
"Is this the place?" Fergus asked, gulping slightly "Is this where they've been keeping my little girl."
"I think so..." Max nodded, looking round in his seat, only to have his attention caught by a truck sitting in the middle of the road up ahead "Hold on a sec..."
Getting out the truck and with gun drawn, Max jogged up towards the old Chevy that lay abandoned on the road; Conrad and Fergus (much to his annoyance) following closely behind. Pulling out his flashlight, Max shone the beam round the vehicle, a feeling of dread tugging at his stomach when he found the body of an old man lying at the side. A large bullet wound covering the side of his head.
"Ah, shit!" He spat out, motioning for the two men to stay where they were "We got a body over here."
"What!?" Fergus cried, straining to see past the young officer "A body? Is it Rapunzel!?"
"No." Max answered, pulling his phone out to call it in "An old man...But you can bet your ass that the guys who took her killed him too. These men are obviously armed and dangerous." Looking to Conrad he gave his orders "No one goes in that house until back-up arrives."
The young officer could only nod.
"But what about my daughter!?" Fergus exclaimed, stepping forward "They have her in there! Where's that eagerness from earlier gone!?"
"Earlier we didn't know that these men were murderers!" Max cried, turning his attention away from his cell "We knew that they were kidnappers with a gun, but we didn't know they were capable of using it! Most people would have killed their hostages by now! We can't risk going in there with all guns blazing! We do that, then they'll most likely kill her on the spot!"
"You can't ask me to just stand out here and wait, Detective." Fergus spoke through gritted teeth as Max and Conrad turned and began to lead the way back to the car.
"For your daughter's sake you have to, Your Majesty." Max replied over his shoulder "Right now she needs you more than ever."
But all that was, was silence.
Panicked, Max turned back to face the King; but where he once stood was now nothing but emptiness. Snapping round to see if he had simply moved, Max only came face to face with an equally puzzled Conrad.
"What the hell..." He muttered "Where..."
"Sir!" Conrad cut in, pointing in the direction of the shack "There!"
Turning in the direction that the officer pointed in, Max watched as Fergus quickly ran towards the old house before quietly disappearing inside.
"Shit!" He gasped "Call the office and find out when back-up should arrive! Tell them what's happened!"
"But Sir..." Conrad called as Max took off in a jog "What about you? What are you going to do?"
"...Try and not get killed."
………
A/N: Well guys, I hope you all enjoyed that chapter, and the wee twist with Gothel. I didn't really know whether to end it there or keep going, but I thought if I did it would be far too long. Next chapter will be the big climax, and after that there will only be one chapter left (CRY!). Please leave a wee review to tell me what you all thought. Thanks :-)