Angry Little Boy
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the Spartacus universe they are the property of their creator and as such I make no money from this or any other story that I write for this site.
WARNING: There is some swearing in this story basically the 'fuck' term, as I noticed in the series that is a term that is used almost as much as normal speech especially by Agron. If such language disturbs you then I suggest you do not continue reading.
Summary: Agron has not yet dealt with his brother's death.
"FUCK IT"
The sound of a crash alerted everyone in the camp that Agron was once again on the rampage, his temper had been surely and violent for a number of days now and everyone was getting pretty tired of it, they could understand his anger, his loss of his brother but every one of them had lost someone to the Romans, he was not the only one.
Another object crashing brought Ganicus to his feet, he had had enough of Agron behaving like a child, a mewling annoying child, that needed to learn to let go of his hatred and rage, and to get on with life. If he did not there would be nothing left of the camp and although Ganicus was not yet totally of the same mind as the others in this rebellion, he was not particularly of the mood to see everything smashed, especially any more flasks containing wine.
He stormed out of his own tent intent on having it out with Agron but another beat him to it.
"ENOUGH!"
Crixus shouted at the German, he too had been disturbed by the sound of smashing objects. He stood with his fists ready to fight if that is what it took, to stop the idiot German from smashing up the camp.
"YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE TO LOSE SOMEONE TO THE FUCKING ROMANS, BUT WHAT MAKES YOU THINK THAT YOUR FUCKING PAIN IS ANY MORE THAN ANYONE ELSE'S"
He yelled at the top of his lungs towards the one before him, breathing heavy at the force of the words that had spewed from his mouth.
Agron stood dumbfounded for a moment before the furious Gaul, for a moment stunned at his words, then with an angry glare at the Gaul, he turned and stalked away.
Those standing nearby waited for more of an outburst, from either Agron or Crixus but none was forthcoming and they all stood or sat where they were in stunned silence, unsure and weary of what next would happen.
Spartacus watched as the German stalked away from the camp, concerned that his grief had still not rescinded enough so that he could come to terms with his brothers death. He knew it was hard for Agron, for he felt the same pain whenever he thought of his wife but he also knew it was the sort of pain that he himself needed, so that he could keep in doing what he was presently doing.
As the camp returned to some kind of calmness and order following yet another of Agron's outbursts, Spartacus knew that something would need to be done to help the German with his grief, before it caused the younger man to do something stupid or one of his comrades to have enough of Agron and do something to him.
He looked at the map that was on his table, there towards the edge of the map was a single villa, standing all alone and he decided that this might be just the thing that was needed to help Agron deal with his grief. It also would not do much harm he thought to replenish both their supplies and maybe find themselves some new recruits from any slaves they freed.