A/N: I own nothing, at all. I would like to thank everyone for the positive reviews, I never expected what was my side project to practice my writing would get this much love.
Sunrise found Steele working over his fourth punching bag of the morning, he hadn't been able to sleep for more than an hour and had spent his time in the gym. It always bugged him after the fact, killing wasn't something he enjoyed, just something he did as needed. He was trying to work through it the only way he knew, training until he was exhausted.
He had only dialed it up as he went through the bags, the first had lasted nearly two hours, the second broke in under an hour. His Aura had broken under the constant force of his strikes, he didn't notice, the pain not even registering to him as he went. Jab, jab, hook, elbow, knee, kick, snap. He froze for a second to process that he had broken a fourth bag in around 3 hours. He turned to the wall where there was a pile of bags waiting to be hung, loading up a fifth bag and throwing the broken into a pile with the rest that he had savaged.
He was just about to start up on the bag when he noticed someone watching him from the corner. "Luna, do you have a thing for watching people work out? There's more than one station if you wanted to get some training in."
"I felt a knot of pain and anger from down here, thought I'd take a look. And look who I found, the spaceman himself purging Grimm. So, what's got you in a twist? And don't lie, training doesn't involve breaking your Aura on a punching bag or staring past it into the void." She just leaned up against the wall, staring at him as if expecting him to spill his guts. He realized she did, and that he wanted to. Her semblance was a bitch apparently.
He started back up on the bag, speaking as he went. "you got that look about you, you've seen death before. But you haven't killed. Haven't felt the blood drip down your arm as you bury a knife in a throat, stared down the sights at a man who's head you just put a hole in, heard the screams of a man who you didn't have the time to finish cleanly and knows he's dying. I still remember my first, I can see his face over my shoulder when I look in the mirror, I see him when I sleep. He was twentyish, brown hair, green eyes, I dropped down in front of him and dumped a mag into him and his squad."
He went faster. "Killing is easy, in the moment. Its only afterwards that it gets hard. On the field… their just targets, threats that need neutralizing. Then you go and sit down after a wave or make your extract, and your hands wont stop shaking… your mind needs something to focus on, so it goes over what just happened. You get back to the ship and try to catch some rack, and instead of sleep all you find are the faces, judging you, condemning you. It goes on for years… and then it gets worse, now you can't remember their faces, the new ones. There is just this fucking void where you know their faces should be, just a FUCKING VOID! Like it doesn't matter anymore, like you don't even see them as people anymore, not worth giving enough of a fuck about to remember."
He pulled back from the bag; it wasn't doing anything for him anymore. "I was fifteen when my kill count hit the thousands, half of those were in a single day. Sometimes… I just can't sleep or think. Sometimes I just have this need, to try and remember, to push myself to my limits, to chase the feeling of killing; trying to see if that helps me find a new face, it never does."
She looked at him with her head tilted so the side. "you're right, I've never killed anyone. But I know what its like to fight to your limits and past, I know how much it can mess with you. This isn't healthy, working yourself to death helps no one. Talk to your team, they'll be there for you, learn to trust them. Just try to remember that you're not out there anymore, there is no war to worry about."
She walked towards him, looking around the room. "where's your sword? You need practice with it, I've seen you swing it, you have no idea what your doing. Part of the problem is that sword is the wrong shape, for your body and for fighting as a Huntsman. Bring it by here tomorrow and ill teach you how to use it, and help you figure out what its really supposed to be." Just as quickly she turned and left him standing in the middle of the room.
Steele was a little thrown by that transition, but he appreciated it as it gave him something to focus on. he really did need help with the Intruder, he could swing it but that was about it. It would give him targets while he was fighting, but without an opponent it felt like nothing more than dead weight, a bar to bludgeon people with. He honestly was on par with Juane for skill with the blade, Steele was faster and stronger, but there was absolutely no technique behind his strikes. Even Cardin had technique, not much, but he still had it. If Luna was ready to teach him how to use it, he was more than happy to learn, he hated having a weapon that he wasn't able to use.
He decided to slow down and work this bag over for another hour, focusing on practical combos instead of full out aggression. This time he managed to not break either his Aura or the bag, while still working up and appreciable sweat. He made his way back to the dorm, hoping to get a shower in before the rest of the team woke up. To his surprise the entire team was awake, looking at a news report from the warehouse he had attacked last night.
"Forrest! Where were you? You didn't come back with Yang last night; we were worried about you." Ruby was just slightly panicky, running over and waving her arms around.
"I was in a bad place; everyone was asleep when I got back. Found out I couldn't sleep so I was in the gym. Don't worry, I'm feeling better now. What's going on there, looks bad." He wasn't lying, he did end up in a bad place mentally, and the news report did look bad… like really bad, the fire did more damage than he expected.
"there was a fire at a warehouse in Vale overnight. It's a big story because they found the bodies of a bunch of SDC employees and some gangsters inside. Police say there is evidence of a firefight in the warehouse. It has to be Torchwick, he has been stealing dust all over the city, but never anything this big."
Steele gave the news a look over on his scroll, checking to see if the VPD had bought the narrative that he had tried to set up. He had almost bungled it, the SDC was in full spin mode, the VPD was either complicit or incompetent and were presenting things in a way that backed the SDC. The saving grace was an anonymous leak containing a pile of crime scene photographs, and a few floating rumors that the SDC was operating illegally. 100% the work of his client starting shit online, she must have seen this coming for there to be such a well put together and comprehensive alternative story to counteract the SDC's efforts.
He had a feeling that this was exactly the outcome his client had wanted, the whole point was seeing the reaction to Steele making a slight mess, it just turns out that the reactions she was monitoring were from more than just Torchwick and his associates. It was useful for him too, knowing that the VPD was ready back the SDC and would happily throw blame at the Fang without proper procedure, that just made things easier for him and his client. He also knew that no one was looking for him, there was no security footage, no witnesses, nothing to indicate that they were looking for an individual actor.
he excused himself with his need for a shower. he kept his ablutions short, changing into his jumpsuit for the day's activities. As much as he liked his new wardrobe, none of his outfits were particularly appropriate for workshop time. He had been neglecting XR lately, he also needed to see his Simulacrum in person. By the time he was changed and ready to go, the rest of the team had moved on from the news, studying, reading, and gaming to their hearts content. "I'm heading to the garage, I want to get some work in on XR and my personal gear, I'll be there all day; grab me if anything comes up."
XR was waiting in his corner of the hangar with the XO-19 disassembled and an array of modifications in front of him, it looked like he was turning it into a sniper variant. A suppressor and barrel extension along with a new scope were laid out next to the shell of the Titan's rifle. The hard-shell rucksack sitting in the corner. "Pilot, it is good to see you in good health. Your bio signatures and neural activity were elevated between 2300 and 0010."
"worried? I'm fine, I should have let you know, but I didn't want to put you at risk of a protocol violation. What'cha working on there? didn't know we were packing extra mods." Steele had a good look over the parts arrayed before him; there were spare barrels of various lengths, muzzles, scopes, sensors, ammo drums, and accelerators. He honestly had no idea they were carrying so much kit, pack in the Simulacrum and the pack of weapons from home he wasn't really sure how it all fit, then again that pack was nearly 4m tall.
"analysis of documentation on local Fauna designated as 'Grimm' indicates that enhanced precision will heavily tilt combat in our favor, I am pursuing all avenues in enhancing our survivability."
"you mind pulling the Simulacrum out, I'm ready."
XR stood up and opened the pack, pulling out a few boxes that he recognized as weapon crates before reaching in and pulling out a final reinforced crate. He put it down in front of Steele with a thud- the crate was heavy as all hell. Steele stepped up to the crate, noticing the giant Hammond Robotics markings adorning it. solid metal, perhaps 3m long, and with what looked like a set of hydraulic clamps and locks. There was a digital keypad on the top of the crate, he didn't know the code for it though. "XR, buddy, a little help here."
"the code is 447739. I recommend standing back."
He punched the code into the pad, a flashing green light his reward. He stood back as the locks started to hiss as they unlatched, to his surprise there wasn't any fog or mist or really anything, just another thud as the top panel split and fell to the sides.
"um…, XR? You sure this is the AWS proper? Cause all I see is a fancy Stalker. You got anot…." And all he felt was pain as his brain was squeezed through a tube.