Once he'd followed them back to their little hideout in the swamp, Hank had hiked all the way back into the city. When he got to his car, his feet were aching, and he was covered in mud. Despite this, he couldn't stop smiling. He drove straight to a five-star hotel. He had finally found Cordelia, after months of tracking her! He deserved a treat – he couldn't wait to call Fiona from the finest room in New Orleans.

After the best night's sleep he'd had in about three months, and possibly his whole life, Hank had driven as close to the dilapidated little shack as he felt comfortable. A distance where he was confident the girls wouldn't find or hear the car, but also close enough for it to be relatively easy to carry someone unconscious. He didn't like the idea of using chloroform on Cordelia, but what other choice did he have? She wouldn't come willingly, that was for sure. It was safest for them both if she was unconscious.

0o0o

Hank had to admit that the girls had done well for themselves. Their little shack was cute, and had all the marks of a woman – flowers braided into a delicate wreath on the door, the garden arranged with the precise care of a woman's hand. Hank knew that once he and Cordelia lived together, she would never have to tend to the garden again – he'd make sure that her every need was catered to. She'd never have to lift a finger – and certainly not to weed.

It was dark now, and Hank hadn't heard a noise from the cabin for several hours now. Feeling it was safe to carry out his plan, he checked that the chloroform – soaked cloth was still tucked firmly in his pocket. Hopefully it wouldn't take too much of a fight – with any luck, he could knock them both out before they knew what was happening. From there, he would put Cordelia in his car and begin the drive home.

The steps creaked as he went up – wincing, Hank paused, and listened for any sound from inside. After waiting a minute, he crept up to the door.

It wasn't locked. Of course it wasn't. Maybe the women knew how to make a pretty garden, but they still weren't smart enough to think of a lock. Hank let out a snort of laughter before he could stop himself – thankfully, a gust of wind covered the sound, and the girls inside the cabin did not stir.

He took the rag out of his pocket and stood in the doorway for a moment, looking around. It was a homely place, just a single room. Nowhere near what Cordelia deserved – when she was his wife, she would have so many rooms she wouldn't know what to do with herself. Luckily for him, Cordelia slept on the side closest to the door. The clouds cleared and a beam of moonlight swept across her sleeping figure. He watched the rise and fall of her chest as she slept. She looked positively angelic – he was so glad that he'd found her, that he would finally be able to rescue her from this hell.

It was all going well until the floorboard creaked. Cordelia's eyes flew open. Hank leapt forward, trying to reach her with the cloth before she could wake up the girlfriend – but it was too late. Cordelia screamed. "Get the fuck out of my house!"

Cordelia's curly-haired girlfriend woke, then, not wasting a moment as she leapt out of bed and dived at Hank like a rabid cat, knocking the chloroform-soaked rag to the floor. He twisted out of the way and missed the brunt of her attack, but even so her fingernails scraped along his face with a sting. There was a clang as a stream of pots and pans fell to the floor, and Hank turned to see Cordelia gripping a frypan. His distraction gave the girlfriend enough time to leap at him again, pinning him to the ground. Hank almost wanted to laugh – of this was their attempt at a fight, it was pretty pathetic. "You are so cute," he said to Cordelia, approaching with the fry pan.

Hank managed to get one of his arms free and landed a solid punch to Misty's throat. She let go of him to clutch her neck, gasping, and he pushed her off him, quickly getting to his feet. He turned to Cordelia. "Are you going to hit me with that?"

"Yes," Cordelia said, and swung it at him. He managed to dodge, but there was a large clang as it collided with his left elbow. He swore as red-hot pain burst up his arm, and he grabbed the pan from Cordelia and hit her with it in the head. Cordelia dropped to the ground and Hank scooped up the rag. The girlfriend – what was her name? Mary? – yelped when she caught sight of Cordelia, and ran at Hank again. He picked her up easily and threw her as hard as he could against the wall. Her head slammed against it, denting the wooden plank and leaving it with a dark blood stain. She slumped to the ground like a discarded rag doll and did not move again.

Cordelia was stirring, and Hank swept over to her, quickly checking her for injuries. He was glad he hadn't hit her too hard – it would have been terribly inconvenient to go all this way just to accidentally kill her. Cordelia groaned, and opened her eyes. Hank helped her sit up. "Are you alright, darling?" he asked her gently. He hoped that if he could show her how sweet and caring he could be, she would get over her fear of him quicker.

Her eyes widened, as if she had suddenly realised who he was and what was going on. Her gaze moved past Hank towards her girlfriend, who was still slumped on the floor behind him. She let out a strangled scream and tried to crawl towards the other girl, but Hank quickly grabbed her. Quickly, before she wriggled loose, Hank forced the chloroform rag onto her face. Cordelia choked for a second and struggled against his grip before going limp in his arms.

Hank lowered her back to the ground and smiled. "Back to an angel again," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He glanced over to the girlfriend, who still wasn't moving, which Fiona would no doubt be happy to hear – she had wanted the girlfriend murdered, naturally, but Hank couldn't promise anything. It would be a happy surprise.

Scooping Cordelia up bridal style, Hank left the small cabin, and walked all the way back to his car. It was a much more difficult walk carrying another person, and Hank thanked his lucky stars that he'd managed to knock her out first – it would have been near impossible if she was still awake and struggling. And if there was one thing he'd learnt about his bride to be, it was that she was feisty.

He could not bring himself to put her in the trunk, and so he settled for zip-tying her wrists together before gently placing her in the passenger seat. He covered her with a blanket to keep her warm – the blanket had the added bonus of concealing her tied wrists, in case someone was to peer through her window.

When he got into his seat, Hank took a moment to himself to process. After months of work, months of waiting and worrying, he'd finally found her. He looked over at his wife to be with a smile.

He couldn't wait to take her home.

0o0o

The first thing Misty felt upon awakening was pain. Brilliant bursts of red and orange danced behind her eyes like circles of fire. She groaned, tears prickling at the horrible ache she felt all over her body.

She sat up slowly, using the wall to pull herself up. Why was she on the floor in the first place?

Her fingers ran over a dent in the slatted wood. How had that got there? It was badly splintered… someone must have thrown something against it pretty hard. Is that why I hurt so much? Misty wondered, raising a hand to her head. Her fingers came away bloody. She closed her eyes and leaned her back against the wall, trying to catch her breath. This was bad. Something was very wrong.

There had been a scream… and then a man. Cordelia… Cordelia! Misty's eyes flew open. A man had broken into their cabin. He had hurt Misty. And taken Cordelia… where was Cordelia?! A ragged sob tore its way out of her mouth, and Misty tried to stand up – she had to go after them, she had to find Cordelia –

The world spun around her and Misty crashed to the ground. Darkness consumed her vision and Misty had no choice but to let it take her.

I HATE WIRTING HANK SO MUCH IM SORRY I KNOW IVE SAID IT BEFORE BUT IT JUST FEELS SO ICKY AGAAGGGGGHHHAAAHHHHHHHHHHGGGG

sorry for the cliffhanger lmao

chapter title from 'Fire Burning' by Nevie Sticks