Welcome again everyone! I hope you've been enjoying the story. I promise that this will get into the Inception-verse soon enough and then I can introduce some familiar characters into the scene.

BIG WARNING: This chapter WILL spoil the end of Mysterious Skin and Warrior. And on that note, if you have yet to watch either movie, I highly recommend doing so. They're both amazing movies in two completely different respects. Mysterious Skin for its powerful message and Warrior for its amazing acting

Try to believe walking down the lonesome road,
Ain't so far, I ain't so far from you
Staying the way you are means solitude
I wish you were here to shake off my fear

It had been a year since Neil had returned to Kansas. It had been a year since he told Brian the awful truth. It had been a year of Brian's life suffering through his painful memories before he finally hung himself. Eric, Christmas gifts in hand, came into his bedroom happily. He screamed; Brian's dead eyes and dangling body forever etched into his memory.

The funeral happened after New Year's. No one celebrated that year. Brian's death brought a shroud of darkness over everyone's lives. Neil never told Eric the truth but Eric pieced it together himself. Even though he took Brian's death the hardest, Eric kept watch over Neil making sure that he wouldn't go the same path as his departed friend.

Still in his pitch black funeral suit, Neil lay in bed staring into the ceiling. He thought he could escape his childhood. Brian probably did too. He thought he could find true happiness that would erase his past. Brian probably did too. He thought he could live. Brian probably did too. He drowned in his own thoughts, his own feelings of worthlessness and taint. How long till he broke apart like Brian? The question floated in his mind. True despair overtook him. Neil felt himself trembling violently. He curled to the side, holding himself down in reality.

And in moments, his body stopped trembling and his breathing slowed. In his moments of utter hopelessness, he'd imagine strong, tattooed arms circle him and hold him close. That warm familiar musk wafted in the air. Tommy... Neil whispered as he lowered himself into his phantom embrace. Even when miles apart, Tommy's kindness still touched his heart and protected him.

Neil had almost dozed off in the imaginary embrace before Wendy knocked on the door and entered. She was dressed solemnly for the occasion without any of the outrageous makeup she usually had on, "Hey. I came here to see Preston. How are you holding up?"

Neil sat slowly, fixing his suit and hair, "Good," He said a bit too quickly. He couldn't meet Wendy's warm, motherly eyes. His attention diverted to his bedstead where he picked up the red die that sat by the lamp. He toyed with it in his fingers, "Preston really liked Brian."

"I know. He's still crying over it. I've never seen him so upset," Wendy said. Her eyes never left Neil. She took a seat beside him on the bed, "Neil, are you really going to be alright? I mean... Brian, he..."

"Was the same, I know," Neil said, still toying with the die in his hands, "I'll be okay. Don't worry about me. You should be with Preston,"

Wendy nodded, "Right. We'll probably hang out a bit later if that's okay with you," She paused, looking to the ground silently before starting again, "Neil, it wasn't your fault," Neil said nothing, "It would have caught up with him eventually,"

"So I just killed him sooner,"

"Neil..."

"How's Tommy?" Neil said, changing the topic quickly.

"Tommy," Wendy murmured, "He's okay. Doesn't get along with my friends much, or people in general," Neil smiled, same old Tommy, "We invited him over for Christmas. He came, ate, left,"

"Did he talk about me?" He held the red dye between his middle and ring finger.

"He really didn't talk at all," Wendy joked, light chuckle on her lips, "But whenever we talked about you, he'd always listen attentively," She took the red die from his hand, tossing it up and down, "We asked him to tell a story about you and him. He talked about burning one of your shirts,"

Neil chuckled at first, "What?" He said initially till the memory of his rape returned to him. The bloodied shirt, he had left it at his apartment. Neil couldn't bring himself to even look at the shirt and Tommy rid its existence from the world for him, "Oh," He said, quickly.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," Neil took the dye back, juggling it over his fingers skillfully, "Want me to show you some tricks I learned back with Tommy?"

Wendy laughed, standing up, "I don't think I want to see any tricks you learned with Tommy," The two laughed and Wendy departed soon after to talk to Preston.

Just like that, Tommy soothed his poisonous thoughts. He always was Neil's saviour.

Tommy rarely sent postcards to Neil. When he did, they had little to say. Tommy wasn't much of a conversationalist. Neil did notice that Tommy was getting substantially better at innuendo courtesy of hanging around Wendy and her friends. It made him laugh when Tommy popped a sudden sex joke in the middle of talking about his work now at the sub store. He never talked about the fight ring. He knew it frightened Neil.

It was only in mid-February did Neil realize that Tommy no longer sent him anymore postcards. By then, he had gotten himself a laptop and chatted with Wendy online. She told him Tommy had quit his jobs and she hadn't seen him in weeks. Amazed at how fast he found the information, Neil contacted the superintendent of his apartment building and asked for him to check on Tommy Conlon at room 525. The superintendent said Tommy Riordan at room 525 had moved out a month ago. Rumour had it that he flew to Pittsburgh.

Puzzled at first, Neil checked the name on the dog tag he wore on a black chain around his neck, "Tommy Conlon," He murmured, before looking back to the email. He recalled his time hanging out with Tommy at the trinket store. The manager also referred to him as Tommy Riordan. Why the false last name? Why run away so suddenly? The thought of Tommy in danger made his heart shrivel away. The thought of Tommy forgetting about him did the same.

From that day on, Neil swore he'd find Tommy again.

He had three pieces of information to rely on: Pittsburgh, ex-marine, and his true name tied around his neck. The community college had recently been refurnished with brand new computers. Outside of his studies, English Mythology (Recommendation from Wendy), Neil spent his time researching Tommy's background. The first shred of information he found was a military record declaring him AWOL while his comrades were all listed as deceased. He recognized one name immediately: Manny, his brother in the corps.

With help from a hacker on campus, Neil found himself with Tommy's personal information straight from the US military database. He was breaking laws all over the country but to hell with that; he was Neil McCormick. Tommy's hometown was Pittsburgh, possibly confirming the superintendent's rumour. His mother carried the last name Riordan; perhaps he had taken her last name as a 'screw you' to the old man. There was a note detailing that Tommy had participated in what was called Project SOMNACIN. Neil ignored it; he figured it was some military training program. What caught his attention was the name Brendan Conlon listed as Tommy's older brother. Tommy never spoke of him; Tommy spoke like he had no brother at all.

Brendan Conlon was his next mark. A simple search of his name revealed that he was a physics teacher in Philadelphia. It was perfectly plausible that Tommy went to visit Brendan but given how Tommy spoke of his older brother, it seemed highly unlikely. Neil concluded that searching up on Brendan Conlon would yield nothing useful. He shut the file for him and moved back to his previous material.

Manny's wife Pilar, courtesy of a collaboration between him and his hacker friend, lived in Texas with two kids as Tommy said. She never remarried and she was struggling with her mortgage. Could money have been involved? Tommy sent her all of his paycheck whenever he could. Neil watched him pack away hundreds of dollars just for her while he lived in a dump. Tommy seemed perfectly content beating at nobodies in an alleyway to make money for her. An opportunity must've arose.

The day was late. Neil sat by a computer far in the corner of the room with scribbles of notes all over his English notebook. He had constructed flow charts based on the information he had gathered about Tommy. The final section, circled in red, said 'money' with arrows pointing away to 'Opportunity?'. All he had to do now was cross-reference any big opportunities that could have pulled Tommy in. Neil reclined in his chair, pleased with himself. He'd never been quite amazing at anything but he found a true gift for collecting information about a target. Maybe he'd ditch English mythology altogether and go for being a point man.

"Hal!" Neil shouted, waving to the door as his hacker friend entered the room. He was a handsome fellow with a wiry frame and thick, crazy black hair. He was humble and quiet but headstrong when any opportunity to show off his computer prowess came up, "You think you can build something to cross reference big opportunities and mixed martial arts with Pittsburgh?"

Hal chuckled and sat in front of Neil, "Actually, we don't need any of that," He started his laptop, customized just for him, "We've got him right here," He typed out a few words, "Tommy Conlon, or Riordan, right?" Neil nodded, "Shit Neil, we didn't even need all those military documents," Hal turned the laptop to him. He was on YouTube of all websites.

The video was labelled "Mad Dog Grimes KTFO". Neil watched with absolutely beguilement as Tommy, still muscular and tattooed, beat Mad-Dog into complete submission. No movement wasted; no mercy given. Tommy looked like a monster even on a cheap phone video online.

"Well, what do you know?" Neil said, scrolling down to check out the description. The video was taken at a gym owned by Colt Boyd, trainer of Mad-Dog grimes who was slated to compete in the MMA Sparta tournament for a prize of five million dollars. There was the opportunity. Neil checked it off in green in his notebook. All he had messed up was where the opportunity was.

So why was he in Pittsburgh? Neil flipped through his notebook back to the notes he had taken about his talks with Tommy. His father had trained him when he was younger. By the military records, his father also remained in Pittsburgh. He was also an ex-marine who was a hardcore mixed martial arts veteran. Perhaps back for training? Neil scribbled that note down too.

Hal chuckled, turning the laptop away, "You know, if the cops come get us, I'm saying it's all your idea, you crazy stalker,"

Neil laughed as he stood, shoving his notebook away, "Thanks Hal, you know, when you and Preston trade class rings, it's like you're married to him or something," He could see a blush creep onto Hal's face before he left the computer lab.

From that moment till the tournament, Neil kept as many tabs as he could about Tommy. He heard Colt Boyd, Mad-Dog's trainer, had pulled strings to get Tommy into Sparta. Other than that, Tommy seemed to have vanished again. No official trainers posted anything about him. No gyms, other than Colt Boyd's, listed him as a member. He was invisible; all that did was make Neil more excited as he searched.

When Sparta began, Neil knew he had hit a dead end. There was little more to do. He didn't have the money to go to Boardwalk at the moment. All he could do was cheer him on from afar. With his main goal postponed, Neil returned to his studies. An archive of Arthurian legends was upon his laptop and he was reluctant to start on the heavy literature. With his hair getting longer and no time to cut it, Neil opted to borrowing Eric's hair gel and smoothing all of his hair back. He liked the look; it made him appear older.

"Yo, Neil," Hal called out as he entered the library, "I think you should see this,"

Hal sat beside Neil. A video posted on the official Sparta website was running on his fancy laptop. It was a soldier, rugged with strong, sharp eyes. His voice was warm as he spoke of the hero who rescued him and his team from a sinking tank. His voice rose to an excited tone, like a child explaining his favourite part of the movie, as he talked about the soldier who tore off a tank door with his bare hands and disappeared into the night without even a thank you.

"Thank you, Tommy Riordan,"

"Holy shit, Neil," Hal said over the helmet-cam footage of Tommy rescuing the soldier, "You're Superman's stalker," He waved his fingers in front of Neil who sat dumbfounded watching the screen, "Neil? You short-circuited, man?"

Almost in a trance, Neil popped open the Sparta Official Website on his own laptop. Neil combed through it but found nothing more than a label when it came to information about Tommy. Every other competitor had at least a profile and photo gallery. Tommy had absolutely nothing other than a tab that contained his name. The only shred of information about Tommy was that single video.

He dove for his notebook, flipping back to a page of indecipherable scribbles to anyone that lacked a precise, keen eye like Neil's. He started his diagram: Ex-marine in the center bubble flowing into Tommy's enlistment as AWOL. Another bubble wrote 'false name' and then 'denying profile on official website'. Now this video, ending with Tommy running away. His final bubble: "Last secret in New York, untold". Neil believed Tommy was just aloof or shell-shocked. In red, Neil tied the bubbles together and labelled it.

Tommy was a deserter. Tommy was running away from the military. And now his face was all over the country.

Hal looked over his shoulder, a bit stupefied by how Neil had came so quickly to the conclusion. It took him a while to let the thoughts swim around his head. All their information arranged perfectly into this conclusion, "Oh my god," Hal said when the conclusion finally sunk in, "What are you getting yourself into?"

"I've got to go," Neil muttered, slamming his laptop closed and shoving everything into his bag. The horrible realization that he might never see Tommy again outside of the tournament dawned on him. He needed to get to Boardwalk and see him at least one more time or else the heart he worked so hard for would burst into pieces.

"Don't you want to watch the first match of Sparta? I was going to go watch it with Eric at his place," Hal said, standing up quickly.

Neil could spare the time. He eventually found himself at Eric's house, sitting on the floor, watching Sparta attentively. Tommy had a starting match. His opponent looked far more sophisticated than the street urchins Neil had seen him fight on the streets.

"What's with the hair?" Eric asked, taking a seat on the couch next to his boyfriend Hal, "You look like you belong on Law and Order," He touched a hand onto Neil's head, rubbing the gel between his fingers, "Wait a second, this is my hair gel! This stuff's expensive!"

Neil chuckled, stretching back on the floor, "Sorry Preston, it was an emergency,"

"Quiet guys, it's starting!" Hal shouted in a half-whisper as the final Sparta sponsor finished.

No music played as Tommy entered. All that accompanied him was the cheering of fans and the voices of the announcers, "...in an internet age where there are no secrets, this guy's a complete mystery. I can't find out anything about him," Hal and Neil chuckled to this, an inside joke Eric was unaware of.

Tommy had a thick black hooded sweater on that concealed his face. Neil watched at the elderly trainer behind him grabbed him on the shoulders only to be hissed away by Tommy. The hiss was full of bitterness that faded just as fast as it appeared.

"...No walkout music, no sponsors, no interviews, he skipped the press conference, he wouldn't even have his photo taken for the program. He's breaking every rule!"

Consistent with Neil's analysis, Neil took pride in that.

With the sweater off, Neil could finally see his face. The first thing that caught his attention was how much bulkier Tommy had become. The man looked like a beast; the man walked like a beast. His face was still as frightening as it was back in that fight ring but now it looked aged as if all his rage was now concentrated. If anything, it made him scarier in Neil's eyes.

Eric and Hal leapt of their seats when Tommy took down his opponent with a single punch, mouth guard flying out at the impact. They hollered in absolute disbelief, clapping in hysterics. Neil was definitely impressed but not surprised in the slightest. He'd seen Tommy knock out opponents in a single punch. Without even acknowledging anyone in the cage, Tommy shoved the gate open and charged out pushing everyone aside.

"And he's walking out of the stage!" Eric shouted, leaping back into the couch, "Who does that?"

"Same old Tommy," Neil murmured to himself with a small smile, his voice hidden under Eric and Hal's cheering.

Neil had a stash of money saved from back when he was a hustler. For the entire night, Neil spent his time counting the bills over and over again. No dice, he just didn't have enough. His part time job at the local diner yielded little cash. It was already the third night of Sparta; Neil had three more nights to go before the tournament ended and Tommy disappeared again.

Alone in the park, Neil counted the bills from his commission in his hands, "Twenty five...thirty five..." When he reached the end of the stack, Neil growled in frustration and kicked at the dirt. He collapsed to the dirt, hugging his knees tightly while he crushed the bills in his hands. He sobbed quietly; he'd never be with Tommy again. Neil found himself looking to the cloudless sky and pondering: Does Tommy even remember him anymore?

"I'll pay you 100,"

Neil whipped his head up at the middle aged man standing before him. He was fat with thick greasy sausage fingers and a dirty grey mustache. He was only 300 away from grabbing a ticket to Boardwalk and securing a ticket to Sparta. Only two more johns and he'd be on his way to Tommy.

No, not anymore. Neil stood, brushing himself off, "Get the fuck away from me," He couldn't meet Tommy like this. He gave up hustling after Tommy saved him from himself. He wouldn't deserve Tommy if this was the only way he could make the money. Neil ran from the park, ran so he couldn't change his mind. He almost tackled his front door open, slamming it shut when he was inside and slipping to the ground. His mother wasn't home thankfully and didn't notice him nearly destroying the door with his body. His hands scanned the bills again, praying for them to multiply. It couldn't help but remind him of the stupid party toys Neil and Tommy played with back at the trinket store, rubbing two cards together until a third appeared. Neil let out a hoarse laugh at the memory of Tommy rubbing five cards out and unable to rub them back together.

The hoarse laughter dissolved into thick tears in moments.

Neil slid his fingers through his slicked back hair. He growled in frustration and threw his hands to the ground, threw his head up in defeat. With his hands on the ground, his fingers brushed against a couple letters. Most were merely ads, Neil kept the coupons to the pizza joint to himself, but today, there was a letter from Wendy. He had received one from her just recently talking about how she had miraculously inherited a bar and business was booming. He peeled it open and withdrew the letter. It was on cheap paper and looked rushed.

Hey asshole,

I bet you're watching Sparta, aren't you? I know who you're rooting for already. Go root for him in person, lover boy.

- Wendy

PS. You owe me one hell of a birthday present

Neil swore time slowed at the moment, trying to draw out his anxiety. His fingers dove into the envelope, withdrawing two slips of paper: One ticket to Boardwalk and one ticket to a single night of Sparta. He covered his mouth, the wind beaten out of him by Wendy's kindness. He wept again, pressing the letter to his face.

"Thank you so much,"

The trip wasn't comfortable. Preparation wasn't easy. Having to skip a few days during midterm season was excruciating. But Neil knew the payoff would be worth it. By the time he had settled into a cheap motel, Tommy had already beaten Mad Dog Grimes and placed in the finals. Neil could just imagine Eric and Hal hollering in disbelief while they were tangled on the couch. He watched as Brendan Conlon forced Russian champion Koba into submission. Victory beyond all odds ran in the family, apparently.

The night of the final battle began. Neil had a single ticket from Wendy and put it to good use. As he got dressed in a fine black beater with jeans, the Sparta preshow ads were suddenly cut short. The 'BREAKING NEWS' banner flashed upon screen and the mention of "Marine Sergeant Thomas Conlon" immediately caught his attention.

"Oh god no," Neil murmured, in the middle of slicking his hair back. The truth he fought with all his heart to find was finally out.

"...went AWOL this year after a friendly fire death of his brother-in-arms Sergeant Manny Fernandez..."

A beautiful, Hispanic women appeared on screen, speaking through her tears. She must've been the woman who Tommy sent money to. The secret Tommy had tried to tell Neil before was now broadcasted over the country: The death of all his comrades and Tommy's desertion.

"Conlon, who is fighting in the martial arts mega tournament Sparta is expected to be taken into custody by military police following tonight's winner take all match..."

He didn't bother turning off his TV. Neil chucked his brown leather jacket over his shoulders, smoothed out his hair, and ran as fast as he could with his Sparta ticket tucked in his hand. The taxi was fast; the crowd was fast. Everything moved in hyper speed. The adrenaline drove Neil forward. All he hoped for was that his time with Tommy, if it even existed, wouldn't move by as fast.

The crowd was utterly ferocious in the arena. At best, Neil only made it into the center of the crowd unable to reach the cage unless he really fought for it. The idea crossed his mind but he'd rather not get thrown out after getting so far.

Classical music came first; Brendan Conlon entered the arena jabbing at the air to warm himself up. Neil burned the image of that man into his mind; Tommy Conlon's older brother.

There was no music. He was completely shrouded in black and hidden amongst the crowd but loud cheers signalled his entrance. Neil jerked his head towards the arena entrance, doe-like eyes wide with anticipation. He'd recognize his bulky stature and aloof walk anywhere. He wanted to smile, laugh at how Tommy had really not changed at all yet the darkness looming over Tommy drained all happiness from Neil. He wanted to rush through the crowd, wrap his arms around Tommy, and promise him that everything would be okay.

In his dreams, maybe.

Tommy stepped onto stage after tearing his sweater off. Neil's eyes couldn't help but study his finely sculpted body now even more pronounced with hefty muscles. Brendan had mumbled something to him on stage; Tommy ignored him completely with nothing but feral rage in his eyes. Neil quivered in fear at first, only to have his fear silenced immediately as Tommy turned from him.

A butterfly, made from tribal strokes and spikes, was tattooed to the back of his neck right beneath his left ear. Neil would never forget the single time he lay with Tommy, clutching to his bulky shoulders, suckling right beneath his ear till he made sure he left his mark on him. Neil wept a single tear, wiping it away as some bystanders gave him questioning looks. Tommy hadn't forgotten him and even if he did, he imprinted Neil's existence into his flesh.

"Go to war!"

The peace Neil found in Tommy's memento of him was lost immediately as Tommy stepped forward and wailed at his brother like a wild animal. The crowd cheered on as Tommy lay his older brother to waste with fierce punches. The crowd was excited; Neil was scared. He'd never seen Tommy's face so twisted in rage, confusion, and hatred even when he was in the fight ring.

"Tommy!" Neil shouted, only to be lost in the crowd.

The fight was painful to watch. Every sound of Tommy beating mercilessly at his brother made Neil shiver. Standing there, lost in the crowd, drowning in the sounds of utter violence and rage, Neil realized he never knew Tommy at all. That night at the bar, Neil poured out his entire heart to Tommy, even its darkest moments. Looking at Tommy now, a rabid animal thirsting for his brother's blood, Neil couldn't recognize him at all. He almost turned away; he almost ran away and left the man he never really knew.

His fingers fell upon a tiny die inside his jeans pocket. His memory of the dumbly smiling, aloof fighter sitting in a trinket shop getting amused by cheap tricks kept him cemented in place. His gratitude to Wendy kept his eyes open. His love for the Tommy he used to know made his heart bleed with every punch Tommy threw.

Eventually, Brendan had Tommy pinned down to the floor. Tommy wouldn't give in; Neil could see it in his face. A desperate hound will never stop trying to struggle out of a bear trap even if all it can do is harm itself fur-

SNAP

The crowd cheered but Neil's world went silent. Tommy hollered in pain. Brendan immediately twisted away and knelt to his brother. Tommy lashed out at him, only to be separated by the referee. Brendan's trainer, Frank Campana, rushed to Brendan's side with water and towels.

No one went to Tommy.

Tommy sat alone by himself in the corner of the cage clutching his popped shoulder which must've sent sharp pain throughout his entire upper body. His face was twisted in pain. He panted heavily, trying to swallow down the pain with mere adrenaline and willpower. In the middle of his suffering, Tommy whipped his head around, searching around the cage for someone, anyone. Upon the jumbo-screen, Neil caught it immediately. A single tear coming from Tommy, his whole body quivering in pain as he searched his empty corner. Neil never saw Tommy so angry. Neil never saw Tommy so broken.

And then Neil was sitting in the train, utterly broken and bleeding. Tommy towering over him, offering him an arm, carrying him to safety, repairing his black-hole of a heart.

"Tommy!" Neil shouted, damning the rules as he shoved at the crowd and wrestled his way to the front of the audience, "Tommy!" He shouted again.

The match had started before Neil could reach the front. Tommy, face still twisted in pain but now hidden in rage, still tried to fight back even as his brother begged him to stop. His broken arm hung unresponsive on his side. There was no way he could win but Tommy tried anyway.

When the fourth match ended, Tommy was in tears when he collapsed in his corner pressing his forehead to the corner post. His body racked with sobs. He kneaded at his broken arm, as if that could soothe the pain. He sobbed into his good arm. He had run out of rage, ran out of hate. All that was left was pain, sadness, and utter loneliness to fuel his will to fight.

"Tommy!" Neil shouted, now at the front of the audience.

The teary eyes lifted from his arm, shifting to their left when he heard the source of the voice. Neil wasn't sure Tommy saw him. All he knew was that his voice had caught his attention and now Tommy was looking in his direction with his face struggling to contain his sadness. Neil merely watched him, eyes sad and worried but not scared anymore. He called out again and Tommy released the fence, heading back into the ring with his brother.

The crowd was restless, cheering for Tommy with false care for his well being. As Brendan held Tommy in a choke hold, he screamed his apologies begging for his forgiveness and acceptance as brothers. Neil watched fervently, screaming to Tommy through the rowdy crowd. It was inevitable at this point. Tommy tapped out. Brendan never left his brother's side. Frank Campana rushed into the cage, shooing away the referee and cameramen as Brendan helped Tommy to his feet and draped an arm around him like a shield to the invasive masses. Neil fought to reach him, pushing through the crowd so he could get one word to Tommy before he was taken away forever. In the end, the crowd won out and Tommy exited the arena with his brother protecting him.

At this point, any normal person with a maddening crush would have accepted his destiny and left the arena, letting go of his once-true love. With the access to advanced-hacking technology, Neil was not a normal person. Earlier that day, Neil had retrieved an old floor plan of the entire stadium. Lucky for him, he discovered the maintenance tunnels that were once used to transport stage crews and celebrities undetected. They were now abandoned after the recent investment in bodyguards. Neil slipped into the maintenance tunnels, following the map to his destination at the preparation rooms for each competitor.

God, he really was turning into a crazy stalker.

The thought came and passed. He left the maintenance tunnels but two military officers by the door still stood in his way. He heard quiet murmurs, mostly male and obviously Brendan Conlon. There was a female voice as well, possibly Brendan's wife and the loud barking of Frank Campana. Tommy remained silent as Neil expected.

"Excuse me, no fans are allowed in this hallway," Neil turned to the MMA security guard who stood behind him.

"I'm a close friend of Tommy Conlon's," Neil replied, backing away, "Please, I just need to see how he is,"

"Sorry, no visitors. Not now," The guard replied, reaching for Neil.

Neil slid back, rushing to the door coveted by the military officers. Abso-fucking-lutely brilliant, Neil, Neil muttered to himself as he put the cliché "jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire" to full effect. The officers grabbed him, securely gripping one arm each and pulled him away.

"Tommy!" He shouted at the door. The room silenced immediately, "Tommy! Please, I need to see him!" By now, he sounded like an obsessively lovesick fan from how he pleaded. He caught the sound of Brendan Conlon shouting with a worried tone, "Tommy!" Neil shouted again.

The door opened. The officers paused and looked to Tommy who stood by the doorframe still with a dislocated arm. His face was red from crying; that much was obvious. By now, his face betrayed little sadness. It slowly switched back to his aloof, unfriendly expression.

"Tommy..." Neil murmured, watching the man with pleading eyes. Do you remember me? He struggled once, trying to pull his arms free from the officers. The officers released as Tommy approached Neil with an unreadable but still aloof expression. The redness was fading from his skin, Neil noticed.

Before Neil could voice his crucial question, Tommy came forward and crushed his lips against Neil's. He came at him with such force that he ended up pinning Neil to the wall behind him. His good hand came up and gripped the back of Neil's head, thumb digging into his soft cheek. Neil struggled at first, those plush lips bruising his own. When his brain finally registered what was happening, Neil's hands found themselves gripping Tommy's head, pulling him even closer than he possibly could have been. One hand eventually glided over Tommy's back, slick with sweat and radiating with heat.

Tommy wasted nothing with the kiss. Their first kiss was chaste, amateurish but Tommy planned on correcting this. His lips bruised Neil's from how hard he pushed against him with one hand keeping his jaw in check. He plunged his tongue deep into Neil's mouth, tangling with his tongue in a wild dance. When he pulled away for breath, he'd nip at Neil's lips and massage them with his teeth before plunging back in. Soft moans of approval came from Neil anytime Tommy came up for air.

It was safe to say that this was Neil's most amazing kiss he'd ever had. He'd easily trade sex with any man for the rest of his life just for this single passionate kiss. With difficulty, Neil pulled away and stared into Tommy's now lust filled eyes, "Someone's gotten a lot better at this," Neil said with a small smile. Tommy didn't smile but his eyes glowed with happiness. He pressed his lips back onto Neil's kissing softer this time but still with much tongue.

When Tommy's passion ran out, just as his rage had on stage, Tommy fell into Neil's arms and nestled his head in the crook of Neil's neck. He hugged Neil tightly with his good arm, pressing into him as if his life depended on it. Neil brought both arms around him, clutching him tightly. Just as all those nights before, the natural cologne radiating from Tommy intoxicated him and he found himself helplessly entwined in Tommy's embrace.

That's when he felt warm tears pooling at the collar of his shirt. Tommy's back shook with hysteric sobs. His body jumped when a hiccup began building in his chest. Neil kept his arms tightly around Tommy, hugging him through his sorrow, "I've got you," He murmured to him, stroking his head as Tommy wept. He hushed him when Tommy broke into a pathetic wail and buried his head against Tommy's hair so their heads remained tucked together.

When Tommy's hysterical crying subsided, Neil looked up to the officers awkwardly glancing away, pretending that they had not seen a single thing. Brendan stood at the doorframe with a sympathetic yet completely astounded look on his face. The blonde beside him maintained a stoic, worried expression. Frank Campana was absolutely amused, trying to fake a solemn expression over an obvious need to laugh at Brendan. Neil figured he'd get along with Frank.

Eventually, Tommy released Neil and left with a military doctor to get his arm examined. This left Neil alone with Brendan, Frank, and Tess who he correctly assumed to be Brendan's wife.

"So, we met in New York. He helped me out through a really rough patch in my life," Neil explained their first meeting to them, "After that happened, we part ways. Then we met up again," Neil chuckled to himself, looking down at the red die in his hands, "I thought, you know, it must've been destiny. Fucking stupid, I know, but then we kept eating lunch together. Then we started telling each other secret things we haven't told anyone," A sad smile came on Neil's face, "And then we parted ways. I went back home and a year later, Tommy disappeared from New York."

"Went to train for Sparta," Frank filled in, "Makes sense,"

"So, you're friends with Tommy?" Brendan asked, obviously still trying to wrap his head around the idea that his brother was gay, "And, how long have you known he was gay?"

"Brendan!" Tess said with an arched brow, "Really? That's your most important question?"

Frank laughed, imagining the words coming from Tess's mouth, "Good to have you on board then. Neil, right?"

Neil nodded quickly. Brendan sat down on the bench, taking a sip of water quickly, "That's good. Tommy never opened up much. It's good to know that he's got real friends out there," Brendan kept his eyes away from Neil. He definitely looked curious but afraid to delve into his brother's private life, "So, you and Tommy," He started, his voice coy and shy, "How much have you two...done?"

"Brendan! You don't just ask people that!" Tess scolded. Frank almost fell off his bench from laughter.

Neil laughed along, a faint blush building on his face, "We've... um," Brendan reeled back just from the blush and hesitation, "We haven't done that yet."

"Yet!" Brendan shouted, his voice going up several octaves. Frank fell into a fit of laughter again. Even Tess smiled a bit.

"You asked," Neil commented, chuckling against his hand.

"Are they bothering you?"

The four immediately turned to the door to Tommy who stood by the doorframe with only a bandage wrapped around his shoulder. Brendan leapt from his seat and ran to Tommy's side immediately, "How's the arm?"

Tommy lifted the arm, it was still clearly sore and slightly swollen but relocated into his shoulder, "Popped it back in place. No permanent damage. Nothing broken," He explained, short and sweet.

"Good," Brendan nodded, patting his brother on the back before pulling him into a bear hug, "Good to see you up again, Tommy,"

Tommy nodded in acknowledgement. His attention immediately switched to Neil afterwards. His eyes glued to him. Brendan caught the gesture and backed away, giving him his space. Tommy walked over to Neil slowly, sitting beside him on the bench.

"Hey," Neil said softly.

Tommy gave him a smile so gentle that Neil could hardly believe that this man could become such a monster in battle. Neil looped an arm around him, pulling him close so his head rested against his own. Tess was first to step outside, signalling Frank and Brendan to follow. Brendan followed suit; he knew his brother would want alone time with Neil. Frank lingered, just to see if Brendan would react again. When he didn't, Frank left the room and shut the door behind him.

"Just us now," Neil said, stroking Tommy's head with a finger, "How have you been?"

Tommy gave a low chuckle, "Been better," He looked to Neil with an almost boyish look, "Missed you,"

Tommy's inviting lips made Neil melt just at the sight of them, "Missed you too," He cradled Tommy's head in his lap, allowing him to lie down on the bench and rest, "Thanks to you, I've become a fucking stalker. Do you have any idea how long I looked for you?"

"Had a lot to do," Tommy said, reaching a hand up to stroke Neil's chin. His fingers continued to search Neil's face trying to memorize all the details in his fingertips.

The two stayed in the position for a while saying nothing to each other. Tommy's fingers continued to trace the lines of Neil's face while Neil's hand brushed over Tommy's inked skin. His hands slipped down the side of Tommy's neck, touching the ink butterfly where he once kissed. Tommy's other, wounded arm came up. his hand touched Neil's as it stroked the butterfly tattoo.

"I love you too," Tommy said, eyes linked to Neil's. The confession so long ago finally reciprocated.

Tommy shifted in his arms, sitting up so he could meet Neil for another kiss. Both of his hands held Neil's face gently while Neil's hands rested upon Tommy's waist relishing in the rock hard muscles there. Tommy's hands moved up his face, pressing his fingers through Neil's slicked back hair.

"I liked it better when it was messy,"

Neil snorted, "I think it makes me look more professional,"

Tommy chuckled, digging his fingers in and messing up his immaculate gelled hair. His fingers moved like a massage on his scalp, loosening the gel and turning his hair into a wild mess, "Much better,"

Neil reached forward, hands combing through Tommy's hair, "You should try professional. You might like it," He commented with a huge smile as he shaped Tommy's sweat-slicked hair into a right-heavy comb-over, "There you go,"

"I look fucking ridiculous," Tommy said as he examined himself in the mirror across the room.

"I think it's cute in a manly way,"

Without words, Tommy dug his fingers back into Neil's hair and messed it up more. Neil followed, messing up Tommy's hair with his hands till it was just a mess of light brown locks. In the middle of their petty fight, Tommy used his bulk to pin Neil down, preventing his invasive fingers from reaching his brown locks again. Tommy kept his hands threaded through Neil's hair. Both were smiling to each other but as Tommy's hand drifted down his face to gently brush his jaw, both their smiles began to fade. The heavy knock on the door sealed their fate.

Tommy shut his eyes, sinking his head into the crook of Neil's neck which was still damp from his tears. Without words, Tommy lifted himself and kissed Neil one final time. Unlike the first kiss which was overflowing with passion, this kiss concentrated all of his warmth and love so he could deliver it to Neil in one satisfying burst.

The officers came in shortly after. Tommy left with them, eyes never leaving Neil even when he was turned away. Even in the empty hall, even when Tommy was no longer in the vicinity of the stadium, Neil watched on till Brendan mercifully pulled him away.

What has been our goal? What's there to divide us?
If you're hurt, cry and say "Can't you see you're my other half?"

Why were we there back to back?
Why were we there face to face?
I must be the light when you're in the dark
If you lose me somewhere, and your tears are in the air
I will ring a bell until you hear me by your side

Ring a bell - BONNIE PINK

An aside, that whole scene with Neil calling out to Tommy comes from an "actual moment" during Tommy's fight against Brendan. In the final scene when the music begins to play, while he's sobbing into his arm, Tommy looks to his left briefly before turning back to face his brother. I was like "INSERT NEIL HERE" and the rest was history