The toddler raced towards her mother. Without her arms to help her balance, she stumbled in her rush to be comforted.

When she made it to Harry's legs, she jumped up and down, making a whinging sound to notify Harry she needed help getting up. Harry, unable to move, made soft shushing noises. "It's okay, princess. You're going to be okay." Her chest felt tight at her inability to assist her offspring.

Sam stood wide eyed in utter shock.

"What's wrong, Samuel? You didn't honestly think that you two's little tryst would be enough to make us all believe she'd just given up on her family and moved on, did you? The only thing I haven't been able to figure out is what Harriett injected the child with to make her impure? I have a feeling you know, Samuel, but what's a bet you can't tell me, even if I ordered it?"

Matt raised his eyebrows towards Dupret. Harry wracked her brain for the wording of their deal. It was something like "I'll keep this between us." But did "this" relate to their initial conversation or all details pertaining to the deal? And did that exclude him from talking about what they'd done when directly asked or merely forbid him from bringing it up?

Sam stood tight lipped. Harry gave an inner sigh of relief and flicked her attention to her husband still standing in the doorway.

His hollow eyes bored into her face. He looked deeply hurt, mentally as well as physically. Her heart ached. His face was gaunt and his clothes hung off him. To undergo such dramatic weight loss in the space of two weeks, Matt must have picked him up almost straight after they had left town, and been holding him somewhere. He had been being held and treated appallingly while she had been going about her life, attending football games and throwing herself at another man. What had Matt and his minions been telling him?

She took in the state of his clothing and the smell of piss that had filled the room, overpowering the metallic smell of blood, since Matt had returned with his hostages. Had he let either of them go to the toilet since parking the van outside the house the previous day? Had he even gone out and changed Charlie's nappy? Her poor little angel would likely have nappy rash if they lived through this.

A single tear fell from the corner of her eye. Why hadn't she tried to check on them? She could have called David's mother to make sure they were okay. She'd put all that effort into appearing disinterested for nothing. They knew it was a farce, and because of that, she had allowed this to happen to those she'd sworn to protect.

Charlie had begun to cry at still being on the floor. Sam crossed the room and picked her up. She instantly calmed at his touch.

"Place her on her mother's lap," Matt commanded. "I want Harriett to have the smell of her innocent baby's hair in her memory while I demonstrate on David exactly what I'm going to do to her."

"I'm going to kill you. You arsehole!" Harry spat vehemently.

Matt laughed. It was cold and heartless. "Good luck with that, Harriett. You couldn't possibly have forgotten that your magic fingers of death are no longer attached, could you? I must admit I'm very intrigued to see if they grow back. What do you think, Samuel?"

Sam looked at her fingers distastefully, before placing the wriggling Charlie in Harry's lap.

"I don't know, Matt," he commented, appearing unable to commit to an answer. "She had a massive chunk taken out of her head a couple of days ago, and look at the hair there now. In a few days it'll be completely unnoticeable. But growing back body parts? I don't know if even the Hand of God has that power... Maybe over time?"

David looked at her like she'd grown a second head. His gaze fell to her hand and the severed fingers sitting on the table, perhaps only just registering what had occurred. Pity was etched on his face. She wished he would stop looking at her that way. She didn't deserve his pity. Not considering what he had already suffered, and was about to suffer because of her; not considering what Liz had suffered because of her.

"Sam, help them some how, please!" she pleaded.

"Matt, let them go!"

He laughed again. "With pleasure. Just make the deal."

Tears streamed down her face. "I can't do that."

"So everyone else's safety is more important than your own flesh and blood's?" he asked.

She breathed in Charlie's smell: dirt and the overwhelming smell of urine were foremost, however that pure toddler smell that called to Harry was still evident, the animalistic call of young to mother. How could she possibly have the strength to do what she had to do?

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," she sobbed. "This is bigger than the three of us."

David's face fell even further. She turned away, ashamed of herself for putting them in this situation.

"We'll see if you feel that way in an hour." Matt stated, shoving David further into the room in front of her. 

He kicked him in the back of the knee cap causing David to fall to the floor. With his arms bound by his sides and his hands bound together, David had no way to soften the impact. His arms appeared to crumple underneath him as chest, shoulder and cheek all collided with the cement floor, thinly disguised by a layer of linoleum, but just as hard. Matt watched with pleasure. 

  Charlie slid over Harry's knees onto the ground in attempt to help her father get back up, even though she was no help whatsoever with her little hands bound in the same way David's were. Harry wanted to hold her back, but was powerless to stop her. Sam swept in and picked her up once more. She was unsure whether it was a kindness to the child, or more of a convenience for Matt, but she didn't care either way.  

Harry had no doubt what was coming, and terror rose within her. She needed to think. She was chosen! There needed to be some way she could get David and Charlie out of this without resigning the whole human race to eternal damnation. She just needed some time to think of it.

Matt swung the computer chair round, depositing it on the opposite side of the card table from where Harry sat. He hooked his arm under David's armpit and lifted him roughly onto the seat. Securing him to the back of the chair the same way that Harry's shoulders were strapped to hers, Matt dropped David's bound hands onto the card table. He then busied himself with his selection of tools.

He picked up a screwdriver and inspected its head before sitting it back down. He looked back over the other tools, his eyes lighting up when they fell upon the vise grips.

He placed the sides of the clamp on either side of David's left thumb and began screwing them tighter. "Sorry, David. It's such a shame to see such talented hands go to waste, but don't worry, Lucifer isn't a big fan of wood anyway." He chuckled maniacally as he continued to tighten.

Harry could hear Sam humming to Charlie, but she had eyes only for David. She couldn't turn away from this, no matter how much she wanted to. She needed to share his pain. He deserved that.

His grey-blue eyes were intense as the clamp pinched the base of his thumb. He stared at Harry's mangled hand, most likely considering whether his would look the same when Matt was finished.

"David, look at me," she said. She tried to speak steadily, but was only mildly successful. "Don't think about what he's doing. Just concentrate on my face... on my voice... I'm so sorry. I should never have pushed you away."

David stared at her through glassy eyes. The grime on his face was streaked with the tears that had flowed down his hollowed face. He looked at her earnestly. "I get why you did it, baby," he said between grimaces. "I just wish you hadn't felt the need to deal with all this alone."

Blood trickled from David's thumb, down towards his wrist, and he grunted as the bone cracked.

Matt started his whistling once more; this time to the tune of Pop goes the weasel. David screamed as Matt removed the grips from his limp appendage. He placed it onto David's index finger and started again. He slowly tightened, giving a mighty twist every time he finished his tune. As the bones continued to crack, one after another, David openly wept.

Half way through the fourth of David's fingers, Matt stopped, leaving the clamp suspended from just above the wedding ring David still wore. Sweat dripped from David's face, mixing with the other bodily fluids he had excreted during his torture. 

Matt ran his hands back over his tools. He had enjoyed inflicting his pain upon David slowly. It had been at least an hour since he had first selected the vise grip. Harry suspected he wanted to draw it out to give her more time to consider what she was consigning Charlie to. It was a good plan. She loathed herself for her inability to protect her young. She loathed God for putting her in this position. And she hated Matt for the atrocities he had committed in order to break hell spawn free.

Matt smiled at her malevolently as he examined the head of a screwdriver. He ran the end down the left side of David's cheek. David released a blood-curdling scream, and Harry rocked in her chair, futilely attempting to rush to his aid. 

Matt inspected the line he had made. A welt was already forming, however Matt did not look satisfied. Clenching his teeth and sandwiching David's head between his body and his arm, he sliced more deliberately. A thick trickle of crimson rushed from the gash the screwdriver left behind.

Harry felt lightheaded. Matt was winning. He had been right. There was no way she would be able to sit through this much longer, not when she had the power to stop it. She would weaken and strike the deal, and the world would become a demon's playground.

She looked at David's face. If she had realised how weak she was earlier, his hand wouldn't have been in an almost as bad condition as hers, and his face wouldn't need multiple stitches in order to ever heal. Why had she fooled herself into thinking she could somehow beat the odds?

"You ready to call it yet, Harry?" Matt asked. "Do you really think your as strong as Claire was? You could ask her how well resisting me turned out for her... I mean, if I hadn't killed her and everyone she cared about. You've held out admirably, but don't you think it's time to stop before your family join the Mercys in the ground?" 

Dupret stood behind him. Harry thought she could see him giving an ever so slight shake of his head, urging her to stay strong. But she couldn't. She had to save the ones she loved.

She looked back at her husband, preparing herself to make the deal that would damn her soul and the rest of humanity with it. At least her people would be safe.

David stared directly at her, his wet eyes shining in the dim light. He spoke quickly, but his tone was commanding. "Don't. You need to stay strong. I know what they want from you. Don't let them get it. A few days' pain is better than an eternity in Hell. You won't just damn everyone else, you'll damn us too. You'll damn Charlie's soul. Don't do it to us, understand?"

She nodded dramatically, hanging upon his every word. The metal toolbox Troy had said he'd used to hit her on the head the day before swung into David's skull. His head slumped and Harry held her breath. Had Matt killed him? Matt moved to check his pulse as David's chest rose and fell. Matt slapped the unconscious man on the shoulder.

"Well?" he asked impatiently.

Harry was thankful for the perspective David had given her. She wasn't prioritising everyone else over them, she was saving their souls. The better get into Heaven for their sacrifice.

"A few days' pain is better than an eternity in Hell," Harry repeated, as much to herself as to Matt.

Matt stalked the back of the room and kicked the cupboard in the corner. He yelled across the room, "Get him off the chair, Sam, and put the toddler there instead! I'm going to get a drink."

He strode out of the door, slamming it shut in the process.

 "A few days' pain is better than an eternity in Hell," Harry repeated again between sobs. 

It may have been logical, but that didn't make it easy.