On the day of his return, Charles found that for once he couldn't actually get any work done. The more he tried to accomplish, the less productive he ended up becoming, and for the first time in years since working with the band, he moved all his meetings and cleared his schedule.

While the business aspect of the trip had been one that Charles had been looking forward to, it was speaking to Ishnifus that he had been dreading. Yes, the man gave him new purpose, brought him back, healed him, and set him on the right path, but it didn't mean that Charles was exactly comfortable with how things were turning out. He felt wrong. He didn't feel like himself. He felt far different than he had before, and being told what he had to continue to do didn't exactly help. He was a player in all of this, and he wasn't even sure what all of this was. All he knew was that he couldn't tell the boys yet, and only one other person knew of his plans - and that person was currently being kept hidden in the depths of Mordhaus.

Still, the knowledge of everything that he had to do wasn't helping the already large amount of strain he was currently putting on himself. While the two weeks away helped to clear his mind, in a way, of the strange happenings and 2am meetings he had liked for a bit, coming back brought all those thoughts and confusions back.

It was made worse once it hit nightfall, and he was debating on what he could do to keep himself and his mind busy, so that he wouldn't need to focus on the overwhelming feeling of being incomplete wearing him down.

So he did what he always did in these situations. With his schedule cleared and his night open for whatever he pleased, he got changed and headed down to the private gym set up for the band.

He hadn't expected anyone to be in there, so when he saw Nathan hitting the punching bag with a scowl on his face, Charles looked surprised. He found himself watching Nathan carefully, watching his form, how he moved, and assumed he was caught staring because Nathan stopped abruptly and looked over to Charles.

"See something you like?" The front man joked, in one of the first solo conversations they had since the weeks before and their nightly visits. Nathan smiled, wiping his forehead with the back of his left hand, and appeared to be waiting for an answer.

It was a loaded question, and Charles quickly figured out the outcomes of each of the ways that he wanted to answer, and picked the one he felt would get the least amount of reaction. "Actually," Charles spoke as he approached Nathan, his eyes staying focused on the other man's facial features, "Yes, and, ah, no." Nathan's smile fell a little bit, and Charles raised an eyebrow towards him, though he continued. "Your form is off. You're not throwing all your power behind your punches, you're...just going through the motions."

"Yeah?" Nathan said, crossing his arms, looking at the punching bag and then looking at Charles, "Then why don't you show me how it's done?"

There it was, that request again, though there was no alcohol behind it this time, and there were no strange observations on Charles' part that could have easily be read into as being something more than it was. It was almost accusatory, as if Charles couldn't and wouldn't step up to Nathan's small challenge.

"Come here," Charles gestured, as he walked more towards an open space, throwing his stuff on the ground, but keeping his glasses on, "Hit me." He stood in front of Nathan and gestured towards himself, "Try to hit me."

"Try? I don't need to fucking try!" Nathan laughed, words practically mirroring their conversation weeks ago, and came towards Charles at a charge and threw a punch. Charles dogged and in turn threw a punch into Nathan's stomach, though without half the power that it should have had behind it. Nathan gasped a little, made a strange sound, though he coughed and tried to cover it up.

"You charge like that, and I can see you coming, so try again." So Nathan narrowed his eyebrows and tried again, but each of his punches were either stopped by Charles or dodged, and each time Charles managed to get one in.

"Nathan, what is holding you back? Something is...uh, well whatever it is, it's holding you back and you need to let it go." Charles looked over Nathan, watching the other man breathe hard, having already broke into a sweat, the look of anger crossing over his features. Subconsciously, Charles swallowed hard, and found himself unable to look at Nathan in this particular state for too long. He took his eyes off Nathan for a moment to get his water bottle, and it was then that Nathan caught him by surprise and decked him in his right side.

"Fuck!" Charles hissed, and stood up with his left hand crossing over to hold his side, the punch having made contact with a bruise that had not quite healed over yet, "If you want to do this, you...have to fight fair."

"Fight fair?" Nathan laughed, his tone harsh, "Are you shitting me? You're fucking kidding me right? Fucking fight fair?" He threw another punch and this one also landed on Charles, getting his side in the exact same place, getting Charles visibly angry. "You tell me to fucking fight fair when nothing...no!"

It evolved into a fight of verbal and physical, and Charles soon found he was getting quite the workout against Nathan, and if Nathan wasn't holding back anymore, Charles wasn't going to either. "What are you trying to say, huh?" Charles called out as he dodged and countered, pushing Nathan away.

"You have some fucking nerve," Nathan growled, not willing to give up the fight, not willing to lose to a man he was conflicted towards. It was evident in the way he moved, and the way he came at Charles, "You don't fucking play dead, you don't fucking get to do that!" The anger was in his voice, the frustration, all of that seemed to be pushing Nathan and Charles found himself actually struggling to defend himself physically, if not verbally as well.

"And you don't get to tell me what to do, Nathan! You have no idea what I fucking do for you," Charles bellowed back, the words sharp on his tongue, his own frustrations coming through. The men dissolved into fighting more, no longer a fight between friends or even in a trainer/trainee relationship, but in the stance of two people who couldn't figure out where the other stood. It suddenly became about defending their own point of view, their own anger, and nothing was getting resolved. Punches were thrown and dodged, and when Charles saw an in, he took it.

He moved as he had the first night Nathan came to see him, and moved to pin Nathan's arms behind his back, but instead Nathan surprised Charles and flipped him onto his back on the floor. Nathan stood over Charles, panting, as Charles looked up, beaten and worn out, just as out of breath as Nathan was. Still, Charles couldn't stop staring at the man standing above him, and in that moment wished he could read his mind.

Instead, Nathan held out his hand to help Charles up, and Charles took it, standing up on his feet and finding himself inches away from Nathan. "Thanks," he said, and upon realizing he was still holding onto Nathan's hand, he let go. He stepped back, but was surprised when Nathan grabbed his arm once more.

"I'm not done." He said, and Charles braced himself for round two, braced himself for yet more anger his way, but what happened surprised him.

Instead of a fight, it was the complete opposite.

Nathan grabbed Charles, and kissed him.