Chapter 6

Talk to Him

The transition was slow but easy to see, if you were looking for it. We started out training together, civilly enough, though the tension left over from our week of stalking and avoiding each other like hunter and prey sometimes made us a little overzealous. The assessors were baffled. The first time Krauser and I had decided to spar an assessor rushed over to break us up, thinking we were starting a fight.

"Ah come on Joe," Krauser had rolled his eyes at the assessor (he seemed to know all of them on a first name basis) and smirked, "you know how I work. If I'd wanted him dead I'd have done it weeks ago."

I couldn't help but shake my head as Krauser deflated the tension in the situation like he'd done it hundreds of times before, which he probably had. From then on the assessors and, the mainstay of the recruits, left us alone. My roommates still talked to me and, sure, we still hung out now and then but I found that, as the weeks passed, I ended up spending most of my time with Krauser and his veteran buddies.

"What are you doing later?" he'd asked me one day, out of the blue, as we jogged around the field.
"Uh," I said between breaths, "nothing."
"Nothing?" he said, sounding scornful, "It's your day off tomorrow and you aren't doing anything tonight?"
"What are you doing that's so much more interesting than me?" I replied, tone tinted with anger.
"Going to Lucy's," it seemed everyone went to Lucy's, the pub where my roommates and I had gone that first night off.
"So you're going to get shitfaced," I reiterated, "great."
"Wanna come?" he asked, grinning.
"Hell yeah," I smirked back, taking the opportunity to overtake him and beat him to the ten lap mark.

I saw Melissa once a week. The first session had been the hardest, maybe because her disappointment was obvious, no matter how hard she tried to cover it. In a way I was surprised that she'd taken my breakdown so badly. I mean, what the hell did she expect? That I was going to walk back into this sort of life with no consequences? Another thing I'd noticed since hanging around Krauser, my self pity had taken a swift backdoor exit and never showed its face again.

"You seem happier at least," Melissa had commented at the end of our last session.
"Yeah?" I asked, feeling a little awkward when she didn't say anything else, prompting me to elaborate on why, "Well, I guess so. I mean, things are getting better, I've been given a new chance and so far things have only gone marginally wrong."
"You could say that," she said wryly, "so, you're making friends and playing nice?"
"Making friends, sure," I smirked, "playing nice?"
"Leon..." she said warningly.
"I'm kidding," I said with a short laugh, "don't be so paranoid."
"I heard from your Sergeant that you've been spending a lot of time with a..." she consulted the file she had on the table in front of her, "Jack Krauser?"
"I wouldn't say 'a lot'..." I trailed off, realising then that it was probably a more accurate estimation than I had realised.
"Isn't he the man that you maimed?" she said, sounding concerned.
"Gee Doc, thanks for making me feel so much more secure and giving me piece of mind," I said sarcastically, "do you really think that I'd spend time with the guy if we weren't getting along?"
"I didn't say that," Melissa said, sounding reproachful, before she calmed her tone and continued, "it's just...I want you to be careful. Revenge had a powerful effect on the human psyche."
"Thanks," I said sarcastically, "I'll keep that in mind. We done?"

Melissa wasn't the only one who didn't take kindly to the idea that Krauser and I had formed a tentative friendship. Kessinger was still civil, sure, but he didn't talk to me as much as he used to, didn't offer to hang out so often, if at all, although if I did have nightmare he was, surprisingly, still there to reassure me that everything was alright. Even though we'd drifted apart I couldn't help but be grateful to him for that. I think, as far as I could tell, he resented that I'd become friendly with the guy who was responsible for the nightmares coming back in the first place. Yet the nightmares themselves were few and far between now and I no longer woke up to the sound of my own screams.

"So, she your girlfriend?"

Why did everyone always assume that? We were out for drinks again (it had become a regular thing kind of quickly) and it was my round. Krauser was up to help me back to the table with the drinks. The picture of me, Claire and Chris fell out of my wallet while I was paying.

"No," I said with a sigh, "she's just a friend."
"Oh," he said, giving me the photo back with a smirk, "I get it. He's her boyfriend then."
"I'm glad you never became a detective," I said back with a look of pity, "he's her brother."
"Ah well, can't win 'em all," he said with a shrug, picking up one of the trays overloaded with drink and following me back to the table as I balanced my own tray.

Nearly everyone was out tonight, and Lucy's was pretty packed. Even my roommates had joined us, which was unusual, and Kessinger had finally given in to their pestering and come too. He sat uncomfortably beside me, with Krauser on my other side. Everyone else was either high level or a working agent, Krauser's crowd; Chester, Lucas, Marlow, Spitteri, Hoffman. Nice guys, a bit rowdy, but then who wasn't when in a group full of other guys, all vying for the few women in the bar, glad to have a night off, getting drunk.

"Took you long enough," Chester said with a mock glare, quickly slipping into a grin "what's the matter Kennedy? They ID you?"
"Screw you," I said back with a smirk, handing him his drink.
"Nah, not to check your age," Hoffman chimed in, watching me over the top of his glass as he drank, "just to make sure you were really a guy."
"What, you don't think I am?" I said, hiding my smirk behind my own drink, "you want to check?"
"And you were worried you wouldn't get lucky tonight Lance," Krauser laughed, while his teammate shook off his patronising glance and glared at him.

Was it strange that this made me feel better? I felt like I was eighteen again, before everything had gone to hell. The guys continued to talk, laughing, even my fellow rookies managed to get enough drink down them to join in. Kessinger went home early, earning a few new nicknames that I had to persuade the guys not to use within hearing distance of him. I didn't want another fight on my hands if I could help it. Krauser nudged me and I turned to him.

"Well, looks like you've fooled them into thinking you're normal," he said, taking a drink.
"You'd know all about that, though, right?" I said with a smirk.

He laughed back, slapping me on the shoulder. Asshole nearly spilled my drink. Shame I spoiled the effect of my glare by laughing too.

"Well," Melissa said, "fourth session and you're already impressing me again."
"Makes a change from disappointment," I shrugged, watching her cock an eyebrow at my confident manner.
"Someone's perky today," she said with a smirk, "get laid last night?"

Damn this woman for being the only person able to make me blush. I rolled my eyes at her laugh and leaned forwards, elbows on my knees.

"Not that it'd be any of your business anyway," I answered tersely, "but no. Why, you offering?"
"You wish Kennedy," she said, forcing herself back into a professional manner, "but seriously Leon, if you're being truthful with me, then I'm about ready to sign you off again."
"About time," I said.
"I did say 'about ready'' Kennedy," she said a little disapprovingly, crossing her legs, "don't jump the gun."

Let's just say that, despite Melissa's misgivings, the Sergeant was just as happy as I was to hear the words 'about ready'. Which, in a way, made me a little wary and suspicious of him. I mean, he's the one who wanted me to see the shrink in the first place. I know that admittedly it's procedure and he'd been more than lenient with me already, but there was something off about the situation that had me reading things into it that, afterwards, made me feel like a paranoid idiot.

"That's great Kennedy," he said with a smile, "I'm impressed kid, knew you would do it of course. You kept your promise and I knew you would."
"Thank you, sir," I said, hands clasped behind my back.
"Sit down," he said, pulling open a drawer in his desk, rummaging through it until he found a brown file folder, tossing it across the table at me, "I've got something you might be pleased to see."

I looked at it in confusion as I picked it up. When I opened it, despite all of the words on the page, two stood out more than the rest. The fact that I picked up on them so quickly attested to the fact that I'd become finely tuned to watching out for any traces of him, kind of creepy on my part really. Jack Krauser.

"It's a training mission, Kennedy," the Sergeant said soberly, "the scuttlebutt is that you and Krauser have made amends, that right?"
"Yes, sir," I said, not wanting to elaborate at all, watching him with scrutiny.
"That'll be why he recommended that you join this mission," he said with a nod, "let me tell you that it surprised me when I read his recommendation. You were the last person I guessed he'd choose."
"I'm sorry sir," I said, looking back to the mission outline in my hands, "I don't understand."
"You didn't wonder at all why Jack Krauser has been wandering around all this time with the rookies?" the Sergeant looked incredulous, making me feel a little idiotic, "This year he was asked to pick the green that would go with the vets on the training mission, happens every year Kennedy. This year you're the lucky one."
"But I haven't even had my final exam yet?" I said, suspicious of the fact that I'd heard nothing of this before now.
"That's right," he nodded, "this will be your final exam."
"A mission?" I asked, looking up at him, raising the folder in my hands, "This mission?"
"That's right," he said, "you've proven yourself Kennedy; outstanding grades so far, experience in the field, capacity to take yourself further, you're our most promising recruit in years. This is your chance to make your mark."

That was one way of putting it.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?"

He stopped to look up at me, bent over the pool table, with raised eyebrows. I had the manila folder in my right hand, the other poised on my hip.

"It's a folder Kennedy," he said, deadpan, "wouldn't have thought you'd needed to still ask stuff like that."
"Funny," I said, lowering my arm and throwing the folder onto the pool table, "answer my question."

The other guy he was playing with, Chester, one of his usual hangs, whistled and raised his eyebrows, making a quick excuse and leaving the room, game half done. He gave me a nod on the way out and a look that said I shouldn't make too much noise. Krauser sighed, realising I wasn't going to leave, and picked up the folder. He snorted as soon as it fell open in his hands, looking up at me.

"You're getting on my case about this?" he said disbelievingly, "And here I thought you were gonna thank me."
"For what?" I asked, narrowing my eyes, "Casing me out? When exactly did you start prowling for a recruit?"
"Prowling?" he said with a significant look, "When do you think?"
"I'm guessing since I first saw you here," I said, walking up to the pool table to lean on it, arms crossed.
"I knew I picked you for a reason Kennedy," he smirked, putting the folder down on the edge of the table, "you're quick on the uptake."
"Nice, but flattery will get you nowhere," I said, deadpan, "when exactly did you decide on me?"
"After I saw you that first time," he said, shrugging.
"What took you so long to chose then?" I said, frowning.

Damn him for making me change from angry to insulted so quickly, what was I looking for, his approval?

"You're mental instability," he said frankly, "which I'm glad you got a handle on. Wouldn't have wanted to lose someone of your calibre."
"Oh, I'm so glad you approve," I spat.
"Want to tell me why you're so angry about this?" he said, getting angry himself.
"Want to pretend you care a little longer? I might just buy it," I retorted, pushing off of the table and leaving before he could say another word.

I shouldn't have been surprised that he followed me. I mean, I'd have been pissed if someone had done that to me. Not that I cared at that point, this was all in retrospect you understand. I managed to make it to the outside lockers before he caught up, my anger fuelling my pace. I wanted to run off the excess energy I'd built up. Not in the gym though, I didn't want to be around anyone right now, too angry, too volatile, I needed to be on my own. Why was it whenever I felt like that Krauser decided to bug me?

"You got a real attitude problem, you know that?" he said, surprising me as I opened my locker.

The lockers were empty, cold. No one was outside at this time in the evening, everyone was inside the warm, well lit gym. All the sensible people.

"Did you come all the way down here to tell me that?" I asked abruptly, turning my back on him to focus on my locker.
"The hell I did," he snapped back, "I want an answer."
"And here I thought you were good at reading people," I said back, feeling light headed and reckless.

Was I really going to piss him off any more, get my ass pulled from the mission? What was wrong with me?

"Average People yeah," he said, and I spun round to find him not two feet from me; damn guy moved like a cat, "but I'm finding out you're anything but that."
"So you're not as dense as you look," I said back sarcastically.
"Fuck you Kennedy," he growled, hands slamming into the lockers on either side of my head, "what's your problem? I do you a favour and you throw it back in my face?"
"Favour? Is that what you're calling it? Please," I said, standing up to his threat by getting in his face, "following me around, pretending to be my friend so you could evaluate me behind my back to your commanding officer, and you expect me to be grateful?"

He stared me right in the eyes, our breath mingling together we were that close. His brow was heavy with anger, accentuating his ice cold eyes. I didn't back down, waiting for him to make the next move.

"There's something else I've wanted to do since I saw you that first time Kennedy," he said in a deep, dangerous voice that sent shivers up my spine, "think you're superior intellect can figure that out too?"

He'd taken a fistful of my t-shirt and slammed me back into the lockers before I could even think of an answer. The power of the blow hit me like a freight train, knocking the air out of me; I had forgotten just how strong he was and, only now, began to feel a tinge of fear.

"Let me guess," I choked out, my hands coming up to grab hold of his arm, trying to dislodge it without success, "beat the crap out of me?"

He just smirked at me, something that didn't reach his eyes.

"Wrong," he said, letting go so abruptly that I stumbled forwards a little, forced to reach out and steady myself on his chest, "but I'll let you figure that out on your own, shall I? I take it you're still coming on the mission?"
"And you say that I'm full of myself," I muttered out, pushing off of him and leaning back against the lockers, watching him guardedly.
"Thought you would," he said, before turning and leaving me standing there, feeling drained and confused.

Why did I always end up in these insane situations?

AN: Oh so close! Sorry for the anti-climax there. Back to Wesker next chapter (cause you can never have enough Wesker). Thanks again for the reviews guys! It's nice to know you're appreciated