Chapter 5

Size Him Up

Depending on our schedule, Kessinger and Huntington usually joined me for lunch in the mess hall. If not them, then one of my other roommates or classmates was usually available, I'd bump into someone in the queue, outside. Not today though, for some reason I ended up alone at the table, picking over my meal. I wasn't hungry at all and it was rotten luck that I ended up by myself when I was feeling the way I was: confused, conflicted, fed up of being both. Feeling sorry for myself was getting old quick, and I wanted nothing more than to feel more self assured and confident, like I used to.

"I take it this seat isn't taken?" a familiar voice said from above.

I didn't look up, instead taking a mouthful of food, chewing slowly. This was becoming a bad joke; I felt my hackles rise for no reason.

"Does it look taken?" I said, taking another forkful of food.

There was a short silence, before the screech of a chair being pulled out broke into it. I felt my shoulders tensing as he sat down directly across from me, his face just as stoic as it had been the night before.

"You're not the friendly type," Krauser said, picking up his fork and, spitefully I thought, not looking at me either, "are you Kennedy?"
"I wouldn't say that," I said back, knowing that he would remember.

He looked up at that. His blue eyes were cold, unreadable; his poker face was impenetrable. I sighed forcefully through my nose, throwing my fork onto my plate and sitting back, watching him through narrowed eyes.

"I would," he replied, showing me he'd remembered alright.
"Is there a reason you've been following me around?" I asked, feeling a twinge of guilt at the thought that he had every right to keep tabs on me, considering what I'd done.
"Full of yourself too, aren't you?" he added, as if he wasn't even listening to me at all.
"What is this?" I said, glaring, "An evaluation or a running commentary on my personality defects?"
"Nothing wrong with stating fact," Krauser shrugged, smirking a little.
"Got a point?" I said back, surprised at the venom in my voice.

He chewed thoughtfully, looking up towards the ceiling. I took the opportunity to look again to the scar, jagged and pink. It slit across his cheek, up over his eye. I tried to remember what I'd thought I was doing when I'd done it, but that didn't help. Unfortunately I was so busy staring that I hadn't noticed he was watching me once more. I started, looking away, caught red handed.

"You also like to beat yourself up about things that people have already said to forget," he said, not even asking for confirmation this time, just stating a simple fact.
"That's what this is about?" I asked with a frown.
"What the hell else would we have to talk about?" he shrugged.

Somehow I couldn't tell if it was an insult or a question. Was I not worth tracking down unless it was about our fight, or was he asking me to confirm that there was a better reason?

Fuck this, I thought angrily, looking once more into those cold eyes, I've got enough problems of my own.

"I'm not here for your reassurance," I said harshly, noting the frown that appeared on his forehead, "so how about we stop playing games. You pushed me, I apologised, why don't we just leave it at that?"
"Good question," Krauser said, looking back to his food.

I stood up so quickly that I knocked over my chair, earning me a few startled and interested glances from the people around us. I ignored them, and Krauser's lack of acknowledgement of my reaction; he just continued to eat, finally looking up at me with a look that cut right through, straight inside of me. I left, leaving the chair and my dinner and that awkward situation behind for someone else to clean up. My hands were balled into fists and it took me a long time to calm down. I went to the training gym and burned off my excess anger on the punching bag. Somehow kicking the shit out of it didn't give me as much satisfaction as I would have thought.

'Good question'. What the flying fuck did he think he was playing at? I punched again, hard, sending the abused bag spiralling, baring my teeth in agitation, putting my hands on my hips as I leaned forwards to get my breath back. A long breath in through the nose, out through the mouth. I closed my eyes and then opened them. I'd made a mistake, sure, I hadn't meant to hurt him but he'd fucking started it. If he thought he could retaliate by psyching me out then he had another thing coming. I went for a run but it was too cold to enjoy it. The fading sunlight sent me back inside, unsatisfied and tired.

I heard Kessinger before I saw him, as I headed back to my room from the showers. I perked up at that, the thought of a good distraction was something I would welcome right now. Then I heard the second voice and cursed my luck.

"Looks to me like you're the one following him around, Krauser," Kessinger's voice was hard and angry.
"Looks to me like you're sticking your nose into business that isn't your own," Krauser's unemotional voice replied.

I rounded the corner just in time to see Kessinger throw the first punch.

"Shit!" I let out in exclamation, rushing forwards even as Krauser dodged the punch and retaliated, "Hey!"

I may not have been as big as them, but if there was one thing I knew how to do, it was use another person's momentum to my advantage. I pulled Kessinger away from Krauser, just saving him from a good hard crack in the jaw, and turned to push Krauser back against the opposite side of the corridor. Once more he looked surprised, probably at how strong I was for my size. Well screw him, I thought bitterly, still angry about earlier. At least it hadn't gotten out of hand, was what I was glad for. It was just a pity that the Sergeant had just come out of the door at the other end of the hall, in time to see Kessinger take advantage of the fact that I'd 'subdued' Krauser, pushing me out of the way and punching him full in the face, right across the stitches on his left cheek. I stumbled to the floor, wincing at Krauser's growl of pain.

"Hey! Break it up!" the Sergeant's voice cut through the tension like a machete, turning Kessinger's angry scowl into a look of worry and consternation.

I scrambled to my feet and saluted, as the other two did. I couldn't help but look to Krauser even as the Sergeant's foreboding form stormed down the hallway towards us. Three of his stitches had split and blood was leaking down his face. I swallowed.

"What the hell is going on here!?" the Sergeant bellowed, beckoning us to stand at ease.
"Just a little difference of opinion, sir," Kessinger tried to sound confident but it didn't work out too well.
"Difference of opinion my ass, recruit," the Sergeant said harshly, "all three of you, in my office in fifteen. Krauser get that face looked at first, Kennedy you go with him. If you're one second late don't think I won't send security out to haul your asses in, understand?"
"Sir," I said; I wasn't going to argue, no matter how much I didn't want to go, I was in enough trouble already.

Kessinger looked at me with genuine remorse, but I couldn't help but shake him off. I was too angry at everything right now. Here I thought I was getting away from the bad stuff for at least one night and I walk round a corner and end up straight back in it again. I must have the worst fucking luck of anyone in the world right about now.

The doctor wasn't happy to see us. He automatically assumed that I'd been the cause of the injury and chewed me out for a whole minute before Krauser, thankfully, corrected him. Didn't make the Doc look at me any kinder, he obviously assumed that even if I wasn't the direct cause that I was involved somehow. He left to get and anaesthetic press from the store room, leaving us alone together. Awkward.

"Look," I sighed out, not being able to take the silence any longer, "I'm sorry about that."
"It's not you I'm looking for the apology from this time Kennedy," Krauser shrugged, pressing gingerly at his face to assess the damage.
"Well if you're hoping from one from Kessinger I wouldn't hold my breath," I said back before I realised that I was being civil and stopped talking.

I thought I was supposed to be angry at this guy. Right?

The end of the week came around quicker than I'd noticed and within no time I was helping grinning Claire off of the train. She jump hugged me and knocked the air out of my lungs, giving Chris something to laugh at while he walked over with their bags.

"Sometimes forget how strong she is myself," Chris teased, ruffling Claire's hair to which she gave an indignant squawk .
"Don't do that!" she reprimanded, smoothing her hair back while glaring at her brother, "I'm just happy to see him that's all!"
"How you doing, man?" Chris asked with a small smile.
"As good as can be expected," I snorted out a laugh at the thought, "you guys hungry?"
"Starving," Claire exclaimed overdramatically.

We caught a cab to their hotel, dumped their bags and then headed right out to a local restaurant Whetford had recommended. We bumped into Kessinger on the way there (it was only a few streets from the hotel so we decided to walk) and I introduced them hesitantly. There was something in the back of my mind that didn't want Claire or Chris near the facility, no matter how much I trusted Kessinger. He held me back after the others continued walking towards the restaurant.

"Leon," he said, taking hold of my arm, "look, about earlier, I'm sorry okay? I didn't mean to get you involved."
"Then maybe you shouldn't have started it in the first place," I sighed, "what the hell were you thinking?"
"Guess I wasn't," he said with less penitence than he had before, letting go of my arm and stuffing his hands in his pockets, "see you back at base."
"Sure," I nodded, turning to hurry after Claire and Chris.

I was finding out quickly that Whetford was a font of useful local knowledge, and the restaurant was great. Claire had ice cream while Chris and I declined dessert. She filled the silence we created with enthusiastic small talk, which made me smile involuntarily. I think I was happiest right here, with Claire's voice creating a comforting background, Chris across from me shaking his head and rolling his eyes as she laughed at her own jokes.

"So that Kessinger guy, you work with him?" Claire questioned me directly, forcing me to pay attention.
"Uh, yeah, I do," I said, sitting up a bit and blinking, trying to look like I had been paying attention the whole time.
"So is he gay?" she asked as she put a full spoon of ice cream in her mouth and eyed me innocently.

Unfortunately for Chris he'd just taken a big gulp of coke, which he choked on and it ended up coming out his nose. Claire was in hysterics, holding her sides with pain as she laughed, while Chris threatened to kill her while blowing his nose, glaring back. I found it hard not to laugh too, as I mopped up the mess and handed Chris another tissue.

"Christ Claire, are you trying to kill me?" he accused.
"It was just a question," she shrugged with a smirk.
"Yeah well could you maybe wait until I've swallowed next time?" he said sternly.
"You know, that sounded kind of bad considering what I was asking..." Claire started with an evil grin.
"Ah shut up, will you?" Chris thwacked her playfully on the head, "Where the hell did that question come from anyway?"
"I was only asking!" Claire raised her hands in placation, looking to me, "But is he?"
"I don't think so," I laughed as Chris put his head in his hands and mumbled something about 'little sisters'.
"Hmm," Claire mused as she scraped the last of the ice cream from her bowl, looking towards the ceiling, "I must be losing my touch, and I'm usually so good at reading people."
"Is this some latent ability that you've never told me about?" Chris joked back, prodding her in the shoulder, "The ability to tell someone's sexual orientation at a hundred paces?"
"It's a girl thing," she said, sticking out her tongue at him, "you wouldn't understand."
"Ri-ight," Chris said, looking at me significantly.

I laughed. They could be so childish sometimes, but it was nice, it was reassuring. Reminded me that there was still good in the world, something left to protect that wasn't just the barely contained cynicism and primal hatred I usually came across these days. We walked back to the hotel under the streetlamps, shivering in the cold. We said goodnight, Chris gave me a pat on the arm, and Claire took the opportunity to hug me again.

"G'night Leon," she said, squeezing the life out of me while she did.
"We'll see you tomorrow some time?" Chris asked.
"Yeah, good night," I waved to them both and then headed back to the facility.

The cold seeped in through my jacket, under my clothes, against my skin. I shivered and couldn't help but keep checking over my shoulder as I walked. There it was again, that itching feeling. I turned sharply, eyeing the empty street suspiciously, but there was no one there. I licked my lips, hating that the cold dried them instantly, chapping them. My breath came out in milky clouds as I took a few steps backwards before turning and continuing on my way. I sped up my pace, hating the echoing sound of my own footsteps on the pavement.

The next day saw me on my own again for lunch. Kessinger was oddly absent and, when I'd asked a few of the other recruits, no one knew where he was. I wondered if he was ignoring me because of yesterday considering I had been a bit short with him. I sighed, hating that I had to deal with the internal politics of this place on top of everything else. The Sergeant was going to let me know about Melissa today, when she was going to come and see me in the coming week, so I was already a little on edge.

That's why it didn't help that Krauser took it upon himself to sit down across from me, this time without asking permission, and begin eating his lunch as if it were the most normal thing to do in the world. I watched him for a minute, during which he didn't look up at me once, noting the fresh stitches and the discolouration of a bruise forming on his cheek. Damn Kessinger for making me feel sorry for this guy all over again.

"How's your face?" I asked before I thought about why I was even asking in the first place.
"Better," he said with a shrug, looking me straight in the eye disconcertingly, "how's your twitchy need to decapitate people?"
"...Better," I said with a smirk, "would you like me to show you sometime?"
"No, I think I'll pass on that," Krauser said with a look of fake contemplation, picking up the salt, "how about I spot you instead?"
"Sounds a little more civil than I'm used to," I said, sitting back in my chair, eyeing him suspiciously.
"Yeah, well," he shrugged, "maybe it'll be good for you."

I could have taken it either way, insult, joke, compliment...I decided on joke, maybe just because I wasn't in the mood for being on my own right now, or for getting into a fight. So I nodded, continuing with my lunch, trying to look casual.

"Why not," I complied.

AN: Is it bad that I wrote the outline for this chapter in my English Literature lecture today instead of taking notes? Oh well, never mind! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, I really appreciate the feedback.

To Victory Is For The Weak: Yes, I realised that after I added my OC Kessginer, there are far, far too many K names...oops. I'm glad you like it despite that!

To Shadowave: Thanks for the review, it's always encouraging to know that your characters work! Poor Leon, I won't make him brood too much, I swear!