Visitor An eerie emptiness enshrouded the gym, its walls deprived of life. Only the muffled sounds of late night traffic seeped through the front of the building's tinted windows as the city's insomniacs continued on their way. Lights were out, rooms pitted in darkness. Time had no apparent meaning here, its purpose neglecting the facility's use… But what good was any of it if the one who brought it to life was bedridden like a handicap? Bitterness clung to the atmosphere like an ill wind. Only one room showed signs of life; dull fluorescent lights flickered mildly against mirror-sheathed walls, their drab image projected infinitely upon reflective surfaces. Other than this, the room was rather barren…save for a single, powerful form broke the Spartan monotony. A dull thud suddenly split the silence. Anger…Alex could feel it surging through his blood. It burned with the intensity of summer heat, making the sweat that covered his shirtless musculature that much more uncomfortable. His hard blue eyes stared at the fist he had planted into the side of the hapless punching bag, at the lines of veins that raced up his lower arm. Olive green gloves-the same color as the overalls he wore, their straps hanging loosely at his sides-obscured the taunt white of his knuckles. It didn't matter if he couldn't see them…the jagged crimson stripes beneath his eyes, like those that streaked his shoulders, ensured that he saw only one color…red. Funny how the stripes seemed to resemble scars… Another loud thud echoed flatly through the room, the bag groaning in protest as Alex unleashed another, much more forceful blow upon it. He lowered his head, stray strands of blonde hair tumbling past the red bandanna around his brow. Who the Hell did he think he was kidding? None of this was helping. If anything, he was probably causing Patricia to go out of her mind with worry. Still…a hospital ward was no place to lose his temper. Alex muttered a scathing curse, his teeth clenching visibly as he struck the punching bag yet again. He was never the type to cry. The way he was raised, the mentality he developed…neither allowed him to shed tears. It just wasn't like him. But this time…things were different. This time he had to drive them back. He hadn't felt like this since his parents had died, since attending their funeral when he was little. Goddammit…and it almost happened again… The stinging sensation within the corners of his eyes was something alien to him. Each blow that Alex landed upon his target of aggression broke down another layer of defense, brought his rage closer to slipping completely. He struck the bag with unrestrained force, doing nothing to catch it as it snapped from its hinges and crumpled to the floor. His body trembled…shuddered in anger as he tried to rationalize everything that had happened. It just didn't make sense. A low growl rumbled from Alex's throat, the sound almost bestial. When the Hell did he start doubting? He slowly eased back to his full height, muscular arms tensed at his sides as he glared at his mirrored image. God…he looked as if he were about to go to war; the image of the room seemed to be darkened by his presence. Patricia didn't need to see this emerging side of him. The poor girl had gone through enough…he'd be likely to scare her witless. For a quick moment, he glanced at the punching bag that lay crumpled on the floor before returning to his reflection… He suddenly wasn't the only one within the mirrors. Patricia? …no, someone else. Someone unwelcome. Alex's head jerked aside, his face hardening with a scowl as his ponytail snapped painfully against his shoulder. The world went by in a blur as his vision wheeled around, locking upon the intruder… He immediately found himself looking upon a woman-maybe in her early to mid twenties-standing silent at the room's doorframe. She was perhaps a little under six feet in height, her skin tanned and her short, sandy brown hair parted towards the right. Olive cargos, boots, thick jacket, black bandanna and tank top…her attire suggested she was military, all the way to the tags that swung from her neck. The numerous scars that streaked her face only amplified that image. The black band around her neck probably concealed even uglier ones… Who the Hell was she…? The woman's pale green eyes met the harsh gaze directed at her, showing no signs of buckling under the intensity. "You're Alex?" she said, her voice a distinct alto note that was surprisingly strong. Alex's glower deepened, his cobalt irises glinting hard beneath the shadow of his headband. Suspicion burned fiercely upon his face. "Who wants to know?" he growled. "Name's Leah," was the response. "I'm here to stop you from getting yourself killed." Patricia trembled, pulling her brother's oversized jacket closer to her shivering form. Her hands clutched the edges of the garment like an infant clasping a security blanket, letting it enfold her and drive back the chill that seemed to permeate the room. Her eyes squeezed shut. Even though she was with her father, watching over him…it felt lonely without Alex. She was afraid…there was no denying it. The doctors had come in shortly after Alex had stormed out, but their news did little to ease her fears. Dad had lapsed into a coma, floating in a limbo between recovery and never opening his eyes again. That was all they said. All they could do now was wait… Touching her face lightly with a trembling hand, Patricia found that her cheeks were still wet with tears. Seeing her father so horribly injured hurt beyond words. She understood why Alex had been so upset, but…deciding to hunt down the one responsible seemed… …insane. A gentle touch of the hands would assure Dad, somehow, that his daughter was praying for his recovery. Patricia felt a few more stray tears tumble down her cheeks as she felt the heat from her father's motionless palm. She shook her head, tresses swaying lightly. He was struggling so hard just to live…so she would stay by his side, giving him silent support until Alex returned to take her back home. But…she was still confused. "Was it right to let him go…?" the girl murmured, voice trembling as the words bounced off the walls. Her eyes stared at her father's bruised face, almost as if he would wake up and patiently explain like he always would… Only the dull hum of machinery answered her. Patricia was briefly choked with another sob as one hand quickly covered her trembling lips. Everything had happened so quickly…as if detached from reality. The angered gleam she had seen in Alex's eyes frightened her, even though she had seen something similar to it many times before. She knew what her brother was. Dad had taught him how to fight, how to defend himself, how to take someone down quickly. But what she had seen in Alex's eyes, heard in his voice…left a strange, sinking feeling of dismay deep within her chest… "Hey kiddo…you okay…?" The new voice came unexpectedly. Patricia spun around where she sat, a startled gasp escaping her lungs when she took notice of the tall figure standing silhouetted at the room's threshold. The newcomer, obviously a woman by the tone of voice, was a lithe figure; it wasn't until the door eased shut that her distinctly military attire was visible. However, what caught the girl's attention the most were the scars that streaked the other's face… The woman cracked a slight smile, her grim expression softening. "Didn't mean to scare you," she said to ease any tensions formed. "I should've knocked…sorry." Patricia blinked, still feeling somewhat apprehensive. Had this woman been one of Dad's students? She knew very well that her father trained military special forces, but…this one didn't seem familiar. "It's alright…but who are you…?" "Leah," was the answer. A softened, consoling expression followed. "Listen…if this is a bad time, then I can come back later. I don't want to intrude." Being left alone again…the notion didn't settle too well with Patricia. The girl shook her head, quickly wiping the remnants of tears from her eyes as she put on a faltering smile. "No…it's okay. Can you stay for a bit…at least until my brother gets back?" Leah chuckled slightly at the invitation, edging a rolling stool next to the chair that Patricia was huddled within. She settled down with a slump, the seat squeaking faintly in protest, as if she were heavier than expected. "Sure…no problem. Wouldn't want to be stuck here by myself, either." A brief, quiet moment passed. Patricia wrung her hands, unable to prevent her anxieties from showing so easily. Leah didn't seem all that talkative; her eyes were centered on Dad, a troubled look playing across her features. The girl decided to make an attempt at conversation…if only to make herself feel a little more comfortable. "…how do you know my dad, anyway?" she asked, her voice coming a little more softly than she wanted. Leah blinked, almost as if she weren't expecting the sudden question. The grim mask she wore quickly faded away again. "My old man's a friend of his," was the answer. "War buddy." Patricia's eyebrows quirked in curiosity. "What's his name?" "Brent Thompson. You probably know about him…he lives in the area." A face quickly clicked with the name as Patricia's eyes widened slightly in recognition. Brent Thompson was a long-time family friend-a Special Forces retiree-that lived about two blocks away from her own home. He had moved to New York City from Arizona about five years ago; there was once mention that he had a daughter in the military. However, not once did she ever get a glimpse of Thompson's girl until now… Leah grinned slightly upon seeing realization dawn on the younger girl's face. "Been in town for a couple of days," she said, scratching her chin thoughtfully. "He told me to come…and I'm glad he did." The answer left Patricia baffled. "Why's that…?" Leah sighed, the sound burdened and reluctant. She leaned forward, resting her elbows against her knees as she looked back at the girl, her jade-hued eyes not doing too well to stay neutral as her expression turned grim. A subtle hint of restrained anger glinted in her pupils. "I met the one who did this to your father." Patricia's breath caught in her throat. The statement's impact was obvious; the girl was unprepared, staring at Leah with jaw agape. There was no jesting behind the remark, nothing light at all…just blunt gravity. If this woman had also fought with the same guy that hurt Dad, then… Patricia's voice suddenly started working again, her words coming out in a jumble. "Miss, can I ask for a favor?" Leah's left brow crooked at the sudden question, animating the scar that was streaked over her eye. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Alex…you have to talk to him," Patricia begged. By now, she was clasping the sleeve of the soldier's jacket, knowing this might be her only chance to stop her brother's crazy desire for revenge. "He wants to get even with the guy who did this, but he'll get himself killed…!" For a brief moment, Leah fell into a pensive silence. She rubbed her temples with a thumb and forefinger, sighing as she did so. "If he's really bent on it, then I can't stop him." Another pause. "But…he needs to know what he's getting into. …sure, I'll talk to him." God…what a relief. Patricia's anxieties eased at those words, a brave smile hinted on her young features. With a slight hop, she eased out of her chair, looking rather dwarfed by the huge jacket that sat upon her slim shoulders. "C'mon…he's probably still there…I can show you the way." "…'there'?" Leah asked, suddenly finding herself being pulled to her feet by the sleeve of her coat. "The gym my dad runs. I'm sure Alex is still there." "…what the Hell are you talking about!?" A static charge of distrust sparked in the air between the two standing in the mirror-walled room. Alex's cold blue eyes centered on Leah, measuring the woman up, his instincts on edge thanks to her sudden intrusion. How did she get in? For that matter…what did she want? The fact that she seemed to know his intentions was unsettling… "You know what I'm talking about," Leah responded, meeting Alex's intense gaze with an equally piercing glare of her own. "Revenge. Are you that eager to die?" Alex's brows furrowed, the red streaks beneath his eyes twisting like coiled snakes. He didn't like where this was going… "That's none of your business," he growled. A scowl was quick to darken Leah's scarred face. "Like Hell it isn't." She took a few forceful steps into the room, her reflection multiplied infinitely amidst the wall mirrors. She jerked a thumb at the felled punching bag lying in the corner. "You're about as stable as a landmine. Got any idea what you're getting into? You're pretty selfish for not staying with your family when they need you most-" "What would you know!?" Alex roared, his voice booming painfully within the confines of the chamber. His eyes flared savagely, like a pair of blue flames. "You can't change my mind, so back off!" "I can't do that," Leah said. Her eyes narrowed, as if disappointed by the angered retort that she received. "I told Patricia that I'd bring you back. You have any idea how worried she is?" The mention of his little sister caused Alex to hesitate…if only briefly. The anger in his voice quickly intensified. "Shut the Hell up. You don't have a damn clue to what we're going through!" "Care to repeat that?" Leah interrupted, the tone of her sharp remark snapping like a whip. "I've met the bastard that put your old man in that hospital bed! You think you'll do any better? For a guy that talks tough, you've only got as much sense as a long-haired draft-dodger!" That insult hit below the belt. Alex slammed a tensed fist into the mirror behind him, sending cracks all along its surface; only his gloves saved his knuckles from a bloodied fate. "Care to try me!?" he snarled, positioning himself in a slight crouch…an invitation to a fight. "Cut the crap and c'mon!" Leah didn't give Alex any time to reconsider his words. She swiftly set herself in motion, closing the gap between herself and her newfound rival with a single leaping stride. The jacket that once sat snug upon her frame suddenly flew into the other's vision, blinding him… The first rule of combat…getting in the first shot. Realizing what Leah meant to do, Alex quickly dodged back, narrowly avoiding the left-handed jab that had been thrown out. The attack whisked past harmlessly, impacting only with air. But no hesitation marked the following assault. Alex quickly found that he had dodged right into Leah's next strike as she launched her right fist square for his ribs. He planted one boot down to halt his retreat before throwing his forearm out. Catching the blow, he winced as the surprising strength of the punch caused his nerves to shudder painfully. Damn…this woman was a lot stronger than she looked…! Taking advantage of Leah's momentary imbalance, Alex shoved the woman's arm aside, thrusting his own right-fisted attack while the other was wide open. The effort was awarded by his target grunting in pain, the jab clipping her shoulder and driving her back a couple faltering steps. He dashed in, hoping to pin the other down before she could regain her ground… No such luck. Leah lashed out high with one leg as she dropped onto her back, her boot catching Alex square in the chin. His head snapped back, eyes wide with surprise as he felt the faint coppery taste of blood seeping into his mouth. Dammit…he should've seen that one coming! Staggering back a step, he went defensive as his opponent flipped back onto her feet and attacked again-a strong elbow strike to the gut. That was all the opening he needed. Alex wheeled around, the attack barely grazing him. Even as his blonde hair whirled madly about his vision, he could see a glimmer of disbelief on Leah's face as she tried to regain her bearings. He wouldn't allow any opportunity for her to recover. Lashing out, he caught the fumbling woman by the neck, yanking her back into a Sleeper Hold. The weight of his arms immediately pressed against the other's windpipe, painfully choking the fight out of her… The struggle only lasted a split second before it stopped. …something wasn't right. Leah choked out a gurgled cough, her hands clasping weakly at the thick arm wrapped itself around her neck. Alex's eyes narrowed in alarm. The sound was sickly, weakened…nothing at all like the forcefulness the woman possessed- He suddenly felt something slick on his arm…something warm and red. Blood. "Alex! What're you doing!?" -!! Alex froze on the spot, his eyes snapping wide in recognition. The figure of a young girl stood at the room's threshold, an oversized bomber jacket donned over her shoulders and an aghast look upon her face. She looked so terribly out of place where she stood… "Patricia!?" The girl quickly closed the distance between her and Alex, coat tumbling from her shoulders in the process. "That's enough, let her go!" she demanded, barely tall enough to pull back the arm that restrained the now-limp female soldier within the headlock. She pressed on regardless, almost desperately. At the unexpectedly forceful tone in his foster sister's voice, Alex was quick to release his hold. Leah let out a faint groan as she roughly slipped onto Patricia's shoulder, nearly pulling the girl down due to the weight. The look on the woman's face was agonized, a thin stream of red trickling from her lips…but that wasn't the disturbing part. The blood that messily rimmed the left side of the black band that circled her neck, the faint charred smell that lingered in the air…neither seemed natural. What the Hell…? Patricia supported Leah as best she could, keeping the woman's arm draped over her shoulder. She seemed dwarfed by the other's size and build, however, and more or less resembled a faltering tent post. "What did you do to her…?" she asked, words hushed. Alex avoided the question, worried more over the fact that Patricia had gone as far as to follow him. "What're you doing here? I thought I told you to stay at the hospital…" "She brought me here…I showed her the way." Patricia's face was fixed with a disappointed grimace, an expression that made her seem so much like her father. The glare Alex received almost caused him to do a double-take. "Didn't you know? She's mister Thompson's daughter!" Alex's eyes narrowed sharply. THIS was Thompson's girl? He knew that Brent's daughter was a soldier, but…he wasn't expecting some knife-tongued tomboy, much less a trained fighter! Besides…wasn't she in active duty when her father moved to New York? This sudden arrival was disconcerting… "That still doesn't explain what she's up to," he muttered. Leah broke her silence with a biting cough, mustering her scattered strength so she could speak. "You think Tom's the only one who's fought that madman?" she grunted, wiping the blood from her chin with the back of a gloved hand. She reached for the black band that hugged her neck, pulling it away with an obvious wince of discomfort. "Take a good look…the price I paid for going off half-cocked…" What Leah revealed was enough to cause Alex to blanch. Patricia herself let out a startled gasp, clapping a hand over her mouth. Branded upon the left side of the woman's neck was a thin wound perhaps no more than two inches in length, the area around it was raw and singed as if hot iron had been pressed against the skin. Despite the pressure that had been inflicted upon it earlier, there should've been signs of healing. Nothing. The wound was fresh…and very much unnatural. This is what won Alex the fight. "Three weeks ago…that's when I ran into the one that did this." With obvious pain, Leah replaced the binding over the brand. "Every doctor I've seen has given up trying to heal it. You won't get off so easily, not after I've seen what happened to your dad…" Alex remained silent, if only for a moment. Leah's main intent was obvious…did she really think her little speech made any difference? "You act as if saying that's gonna change my mind," came the cold-edged reply. "Who do you think you're fooling? I can tell you wanna get even as much as I do…it's written all over your face!" Leah's face tightened, her teeth clenching; it was obvious she was holding back the urge to curse due to Patricia's presence. "Believe me, I'd love to return the favor. But going against such high odds…who's the crazy one here?" At this, Alex shook his head in disgust. "You talk a lot for someone who got beaten so easily," he spat, stepping around both Leah and Patricia to head towards the door. With a sweep of his arm, he snatched his discarded jacket from the floor and slung it over his shoulder, stopping and turning only to glare at the woman who had tried to stop him. "I'm doing this for Tom, not for myself. Don't get in my way again!" A visible snarl twisted Leah's face as Alex turned his back to her. She staggered to her feet, brushing away Patricia's offer of support. "You idiot!" she snapped. "Where do you think you're going!?" All words fell upon deaf ears. Alex had vanished beyond the darkness of the room's threshold, his heavy footfalls quickly diminishing in volume. The loud slam of the gym's front door was the only sound to follow. Just like that, he was gone. |