Disclaimer: I own nothing

Chapter 13

February 8th

It was early morning, Frank's gym was still quiet, but for the grunting efforts of the true fanatics who turned up to hone their bodies before most people were even out of their beds. Tommy padded quietly across the carpeted gym floor and into the locker rooms, choosing a bench close to the back. He started to change out of his street clothes into board shorts and a wife beater, stopping occasionally to stretch the stiff muscles in his neck and arms.

Used to the atmosphere of a military base he didn't usually mind the crowded, noisy gym full of frat boys and "hard" men, today however he was glad that it was mostly empty- mornings were his time to think, to train in peace before Frank needed him to work in the office or on the front desk.

This morning he had more to think about than usual. His very distracting neighbor for instance; the girl flitted through his dreams and kept him awake for hours at a time. He knew it was stupid, letting some girl he didn't even know under his skin but there she was, he'd even got half-made plans to see her again. She wasn't his type, he usually went for leggy, busty, blondes with low morals to match his own "las putas" Manny used to call them. Nevertheless, the knowledge that she wanted to see him again had been the biggest boost to his ego since beating Mad Dog Grimes into the mat at Colt's gym. He smiled slightly to himself, he'd even won his bet. With this happy thought Tommy made his way into the main body of the gym to train.

Anyone watching Tommy that morning would have detected a bit of extra swagger in his step as he stalked towards the weights. He sat down on the bench-press nearest the wall, looking around at the other men. This was an old army habit, he hated to feel exposed and having the wall on one side of him was almost like someone having your back.

Jay and the others hadn't arrived, usually they congregated around the bench presses, betting on who could lift the most, larking about and making a nuisance of themselves. The place was strangely quiet even for this early in the morning- the scrape of the bar as Tommy lifted it seemed to echo around the warehouse. He counted lifts in his head, anything to block out the burn in his shoulders and arms, and the sneaking suspicion that he was being watched.

Fame did not suit Tommy Conlon well, he avoided crowded spaces at the best of times and didn't appreciate strangers coming up to him on the street. Usually it was just well-meaning kids wanting an autograph or to ask about Brendan, he never knew what to tell them about his brother and always ended up being much blunter than he'd intended, rude even. Occasionally people would get aggressive, trying to square up against him, he always set them straight. It was the lack of anonymity he hated- before Sparta he was nobody, a deserter from the army, a blank spot on the map; now he felt like someone had trained a spotlight onto him, he had that constant creeping feeling of being watched. He knew this was mostly paranoia but it didn't stop him wearing a hoodie most places that he went.

The doors banged open and Jay hurried inside, rubbing his gloved hands together to ward off the chill winds of the morning. He waved at Tommy before disappearing into the locker rooms. Tommy thought of the bet they'd made at the fights the other night- he hoped Jay remembered to bring his wallet to work. He wondered how his neighbor was doing, was she up yet?

He set the weights back on the bar, sitting up and cricking his neck- Frank had been upping his workload like a slave driver recently. He reached into the pocket of his hoodie and drew out his cellphone, a beat-up Nokia that had seen better days. He had Katrina's number already programmed in, he started to compose a text. What the hell was he supposed to say? His fingers, already too large for the Nokia's tiny keys became clumsier still in his indecision. With a sigh he deleted the text- seven in the morning was probably too early for that sort of thing anyway. All the same, he should probably work out what he wanted to say, a little planning never hurt.

Not being hugely communicative or prone to making friends, Tommy had only ever owned one other mobile phone, his mates in the Marines ganged up and bought him one for his twenty first birthday saying that he needed dragging into the twenty first centaury. Tommy lost that phone the day he lost every one of his friends to the desert in that rain of fire and heat.

Unbidden the image of Manny coughing out Pilar's name along with his last breath came to his mind, the cloying heat of midday in Basra Province and the smell of burning flesh. His hands jerked suddenly as though trying to catch hold of Manny's jacket one last time, the phone clattering to the floor.

Someone laid a hand on his shoulder and Tommy's head snapped up.

"You okay?" It was Frank, he handed Tommy back the phone. Tommy nodded wordlessly, half his mind still lost in the past.

"Sure? You looked a million miles away there." Frank continued, adding more weight to Tommy's bench press bar.

"I'm fine." Tommy said roughly.

"Okay, have a go with this." He gestured to the weights and Tommy lay back, taking them up with a grimace.

"You're killin' me here Frank" he said, starting the set with difficulty.

"Gotta get you up to strength if you're gonna be sparring again soon." Frank answered with a slight smile.

"How soon?" asked Tommy, lifting the bar again, feeling his muscles burn in protest.

"How about today? You can go against Niko at twelve- get you back in the game." Tommy nearly dropped the bar.

"Seriously?"

"Would I lie to you man?" asked Frank with a grin, he obviously liked dishing out good news.

Tommy said nothing but his nod was enough.

The morning passed without incident, Tommy did his morning's training, pumping iron endlessly before catching up with Jay by the punching bags, the pair only made it five minutes before Jay got it out of him about Katrina.

"She's yo' neighbor man?" the big fighter asked, stopping dead mid-punch.

"Yup." Replied Tommy turning back to the bag.

"And you got her number?" asked Jay.

"Yup."

"And?" Jay let the question hang in the air until Tommy stopped punching his bag and fixed him with such a dead-pan look that he almost didn't ask again. "And?"

"And… nothing."

"you haven't called her?"

"Nope."

Jay reached into Tommy's pocket and pressed the phone into his hand. "Well that's gotta change- I did not bet five dollars on this for you to screw it up first chance you get."

"Oh come on, what am I gonna say to her anyway?" Tommy felt the heat rise into his cheeks.

Jay shrugged his massive shoulders, "I dunno- just tell her this is your number, no big deal."

"Yeah, no big deal."

Tommy began laboriously to text- his fingers were much too large for the keys and every second letter was a mistake. Finaly he re-read the message;

Hey,

This is my number

Tommy

He was about to press send when Jay put a hand out to stop him, Tommy reluctantly handed over the phone, this is like fuckin' high school all over again he thought mutinously. Jay sighed, tuning to him. "Do you like this girl?"

Tommy looked at him blankly, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, do you want to sleep with her?" Jay sounded like he was explaining algebra to a five year old.

"Yeah?" Tommy replied, non-plussed and frankly a little pissed off.

"Then write somthin' nice for love of God!"

"Nice?"

Jay sighed again "you ever date a girl before?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna take that to mean no."

"But-"

"Just say, have a nice day. Simple." Tommy nodded, typing it in with difficulty.

It took a good half hour for Tommy to convince Jay that he wasn't still a virgin. By the time they'd finished with the punching bags, worked on the tread mill, warmed down, and were heading to the locker rooms for a break Tommy was pretty sure that putting a beating on his friend might just be the quickest and easiest way to make his point.

Suddenly his phone rang, digging it out of his sweats he saw that it was a text from Katrina, Jay tried to read it over his shoulder until Tommy hit him with a towel.

Hey Tommy

Liking your new flat?

The area's not great but

the neighbors are fantastic

K

Tommy felt a stupid grin break out over his face, Jay wolf-whistled, smacking him on the back but Tommy said nothing, just sat down and applied himself to texting back.

When Tommy stepped out of the showers ten minutes later, the steam rising from his skin he found the locker rooms were full of people. The bulk of Frank's professional fighters were here along with a smattering of enthusiastic amateurs training over the lunch-break. Tommy dried off and pulled a t-shirt over his head, digging boxers and sweats from his bag. After dressing he checked his phone, the drop in his stomach when his inbox came up empty surprised him- why should he care if she didn't answer straight away? Because then you know she doesn't like you as much as you like her, his conscience told him. He was feeling stupid again, Katrina was just some chick- there had been plenty like her and there would be plenty more in the future. That he didn't fully believe this worried Tommy, getting attached to women, especially ones he barely knew, was not a thing he did, not now and not ever. Scowling slightly, Tommy strode out of the locker rooms back into the main body of the gym. Abandoned in the bottom of his kit-bag, his phone chirped.

Frank was waiting for him as Tommy mounted the steps up to Ring One, it stood on a dais in the center of the warehouse. Niko, his sparring partner, was already there- diligently wrapping up his knuckles and strapping on sparring shields. Tommy squared his shoulders, taking the tape from Frank and wrapping up his own hands.

"So remember what we talked about, nice and slow right?" Frank was saying, the rushing of blood in Tommy's ears was drowning out the sound- it was always like this before a fight. Tommy nodded mutely to show he was listening and ducked under the rope to meet Niko.

Any fight in Frank's gym always attracted a lot of attention, the professional sparring sessions were usually attended by a small crowd of hangers-on and groupies. Frank tried to keep the place quiet but they always got in, it was common knowledge that Midnight sold tickets to his sparring sessions on the quiet. This session was no different- many men had set down their weights and abandoned their punching bags get a good view of Tommy "soldier" Conlon's return to form.

Tommy stood in his corner, bouncing from foot to foot with anticipation- the ring was where he felt most at peace, only when he was fighting did he really feel in control.

As the bell rang and he and Niko touched gloves the sound of the surrounding crowd faded away and he let instinct take over. This turned out to be a mistake.

The stone in weight that Tommy had lost during his time with the Marines in the past six months was never more obvious than when he was matched against the man-mountain that was Niko Chambers, Frank's heaviest middle-weight fighter. Tommy was used to being the strongest man in the ring, to being the aggressor, setting the pace.

What Tommy was not prepared for was Niko picking him up chucking him across the ring like a rag doll, the back of his sparring helmet smacked hard into the ground and black spots clouded his vision for a moment. The next moment he was back up and swinging, going for Niko's legs with a quick kick that connected hard with the shin guards and sent the man sprawling, like many larger fighters, speed was not Niko's strong point. Not wanting to get pinned by his opponent, Tommy stood back and let him get to his feet before attacking again with a barrage of punches to his head-guard. Again, Niko's strength worked in his favor and he dragged Tommy down to the mat.

Tommy felt the other man's forearm bend his collarbone to the point of snapping. What would Brendan do? he wondered dimly, the black spots were back and the cheers of the spectators were starting to echo in the background. Copying a move he'd watched Brendan pull in Sparta, Tommy slid an arm under Niko's chest and used the pressure to flip himself up out of the hold. He staggered to his feet, black spot clearing from in front of his eyes and head back in the game. Thanks Bren he thought, laying Niko out with a vicious punch to the gut, the man reeled back against the ropes but rallied and Tommy had to duck quicly out of the way.

The bell rang and both fighters retreated to their corners, chests heaving with exertion.

"Move or die Tommy." Chuckled Frank, handing him some water, "You're gonna have to find another way to beat this guy, don't do the same things, I want to see you try a different thing."

Tommy nodded, handing back the water. "I gotta fight like Bren." He mumbled almost to himself.

"Thattaboy." Frank clapped him on the shoulder and sent him out into the ring.

The second round was just as brutal as the first, still wrapping his head around this new fighting style Tommy was dragged to the mat twice more, both times wriggling like an eel to free himself. He began to watch Niko more carefully, trying to pre-empt him, striking on the side he left exposed before backing off. Eventually he found his chance, the larger fighter threw Tommy to the mat for the third time but this time Tommy managed to twist around so that he had Niko in a headlock, he twisted again, pressing his elbow into the hollow of the man's throat, sweat was now dripping into his eyes. After half a minute of increasingly desperate thrashing, Niko tapped. Both men righted themselves, gasping for breath.

"Good fight." Rumbled Niko, offering Tommy a hand the size of a dinner plate.

"You too man." Tommy returned the handshake before ducking out of the ring. Most of the men were leaving the ringside now, bloodlust satisfied, Jay however remained.

"Brilliant! You were killin' it out there!" he whooped, punching Tommy in the arm. Tommy grinned, spitting out his mouth-guard and undoing his helmet. "So, you going pro now?" asked Jay, helping Tommy un-tape his hands.

"Yeah, reckon so." Frank was bearing down on them so Jay left them to it, ambling back to his punching bag.

Frank punched Tommy on the shoulder in a friendly sort of a way.

"You were great- I like seeing a fighter who can think on his feet."

"So what now?" Tommy felt himself relax.

"Now you train, spar, we'll get you up to weight and into matches- if you're sure about trying Sparta again that is."

Tommy nodded wordlessly.

"Okay, then we need to have you back in the ring professionally in at least three months time- sooner would be better but I don't want to push it."

"Good. Great" Tommy cracked a smile which Frank returned.

"Get on then- warm down."

Suitably dismissed, Tommy left the ring the combined rush of the sparring session and knowing that Sparta was once again on the horizon making him almost giddy.

Tommy unwrapped the last of the tape from his hands and ran them under the cold tap- bruises were already forming across his knuckles after the sparring session. He rolled his shoulders, gratified that the pain was not too bad, Frank's exercises had obviously been working. The energy of the fight was still singing through his blood making the world seem brighter and sharper than before, he'd missed this.

He bent over the taps, intent on washing off some of the blood from a split lip. The adrenaline still numbing any pain but it would catch up with him eventually.

Straightening up, he caught sight of Niko on the far side the changing rooms; the man was inspecting a cut across his left eye.

"You alright?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah- I won't be sparring against you again in a hurry though." chuckled Niko in a deep bass voice.

Tommy left him to it, rummaging around in his kit bag for his towel. His phone clattered to the floor and he picked it up, cursing. His frown soon turned into a smile as he saw that Katrina had texted him back. Split lip forgotten, he opened her message.

Well maybe you should show

me how it's done?

He grinned, then winced, tasting blood.

By the time Tommy got home it was nearly dark outside. The beating he'd taken from Niko was starting to tell on him, the back of his head still throbbed from being thrown into the mat. He let himself in, dumping his kit bag on the floor. Having already showered and changed at the gym there wasn't much to do but wait for Katrina to turn up. He pulled a half-drunk bottle of whiskey from one of his mostly-empty cupboards and emptied a considerable amount of it into two mugs. He resisted having a few shots himself to calm his nerves.

Tommy looked around his flat, there wasn't much in it, just a few photographs on the mantelpiece and some crockery in the cupboards. He wished now that he'd never invited Katrina over to see it- the contrast between her warm homey apartment and his only threw his situation into greater relief.

Before he'd much time to brood over this, before he'd had time to put the kettle on or to rub Deep Heat into the bruises forming across his ribs, someone knocked lightly on the door.

Tommy crossed the room and pulled it open, on the other side stood Katrina, hand raised to knock again. Tommy had nearly forgotten how pretty she was.

"Hello." He said, lamely.

"Hi." As Katrina slid past him into the flat Tommy caught the smell of her perfume- it reminded him of the flowery sent his mother used to wear on special occasions. For a moment he was catapulted back into the memory of his mother kissing both her sons goodbye before she went out to dinner with their father on their last anniversary together. The sent still clung to her the next day when Tommy and Brendan visited her in the hospital. Shaking his head slightly as though to clear it, Tommy started for the kitchen. Turning he saw that Katrina was intently looking around the flat, taking in the bare shelves and walls with those luminous deer's eyes of hers.

"Coming?" he asked.

They didn't speak again for several minutes. The silence wasn't awkward the way it was between he and Brendan, full of things unsaid, instead it was relaxed, just enjoying each other's company like old friends.

"Here" He passed her a drink and Katrina thanked him, then took a sip and almost spat it back out again. Tommy knew he'd been overgenerous with the whiskey out of nerves. Her cheeks went bright pink after the second sip- Tommy decided that it was his new favorite color.

They moved to the couch, Tommy knew his habit of fidgeting would turn into pacing if he stayed standing much longer. He noticed as they both settled down that Katrina was small enough to sit cross-legged without her knees going off the edge of the couch. The alcohol was starting to work on him, blurring the edges of everything, bringing him down off the high he'd been on since sparring at the gym. He told her about it, showed her the fresh bruises on his hands and was surprised by the concern flashing across her face.

"Don't you ever worry about getting hurt?" she asked, eyes full of worry. Tommy was momentarily stumped- did he? As far as he was concerned if a fighter was worried about getting hurt then he wasn't in the game. Sparring was all the preparation you needed to know what you were getting yourself in for.

He told her about his injury in Sparta, leaving out the part where his brother had been his opponent, he wasn't ready to talk about that yet. Something in his voice must have come across to Katrina because suddenly, and to Tommy's relief, she changed the subject. He listened as she filled him in on her day, nodding here and there to show he was paying attention. In truth he was enjoying watching her lips while she was talking.

Ballet was something his mother liked, it seemed like another world to Tommy. He remarked to Katrina that he'd never been.

"No surprises there." She giggled.

Tommy had to defend himself from that one "Well you never know, I could be a real sensitive guy" he smiled at the thought.

"Sure, and I might secretly be into weightlifting" Katrina raised her skinny arms in a mock-heroic pose. Tommy laughed and she laughed along with him.

Tommy glanced out of one of the mullioned windows and realized that it was snowing heavily outside. All of a sudden he had the urge to be outside and moving.

"Do you want to go somewhere?" he asked. It took a bit of convincing to persuade Katrina that she wouldn't freeze to death on their walk.

After a moment she agreed, draining her mug and swaying dangerously. "You okay to walk after that?" Tommy asked, he'd forgotten that alcohol worked quicker on girls, she'd think that he was trying to get her drunk- not that he was above that sort of thing. She made a joke of it and Tommy supposed that if she could still joke, she'd be fine.

The cold night air whipped around them as they exited the building blowing snow into their faces that stuck in Katrina's hair and on her eyelashes. Tommy led the way, heading north towards the park. Katrina did most of the talking and for that Tommy was thankful, she was incredibly easy to be around, filling in the spaces in their conversations as though she knew he didn't like to talk. It was only when they'd almost reached the end of the park that she asked him a question.

"So where are your family now?" Tommy glanced up at her in the harsh glare of the streetlights. It was a moment before he could answer, he weighed his words carefully starting with the basics.

""My father and brother live here in the 'Burgh… my mom's dead, long time ago." Her platitude of sympathy was entirely lost on him. "This wasn't such a great place to grow up…" he began, not knowing how to proceed so he just died straight in with it.

"Mom and I left the old man behind, then she got cancer. After she died I joined the Corps, barely waited for the funeral." Tommy old guilt he felt at leaving his mother's fresh grave stirred in him again. It was perhaps because of this that he snapped at Katrina "I don't want pity." Because you don't deserve it Tommy thought to himself. , " There ain't nothin' will change what happened but me n' Bren are on good terms now." He felt it was important to show her that he wasn't a complete lost cause, at least his brother he could talk about without wanting to hit something.

"And your dad?" Katrina aksed in a very small voice, Tommy felt bad about snapping at her now.

"Not worth talking about." He replied bruiscly, guilt making him less communicative than ever.

It was a quiet walk back to the apartment building, Tommy kept glancing over at his pretty neighbor when she wasn't looking. Her eyelashes were so long they kept catching snowflakes that she had to rub away as they melted. She started to shiver, rubbing her arms to keep warm.

"You're cold." Tommy said, feeling bad about dragging her out on such a freezing night.

She nodded wordlessly and he picked up the pace, anxious to get her home before she froze.

He left her at her front door. "See you soon?" she asked, Tommy felt his ego expand in his chest. He nodded touched that she wanted to see him again especially after how he'd acted. Before he could stop himself he'd reached down and squeezed her tiny hand in his. Her fingers were freezing; they were so close together that he could have kissed her without taking another step. He let go of her hand and backed off, down the hall. It was only a moment later that he'd been holding his breath.

Later, lying in bed, Tommy picked his phone off the bedside table, turning it over in his hands. He wondered if she was still awake, then felt stupid stop acting like a chick! He berated himself. All the same he couldn't stop himself writing her a text "Goodnight"

He didn't send it.

A/N phew! This chapter was so hard to write and I think it's the last time I'll tell anything from both their perspectives- expect the story to pick up the pace from here on out! P.S. I re-uploaded this chapter because I realised that Tommy goes to Iraq not Afghanistan so Helmand Province was completely wrong (silly me!)