"I swear if anyone goes after him and comes back alive, he'll have me to contend with next!" said Eight.

Seven paused, his head turned in the direction of his brother, "Do you...love him?"

Randy VIII was quite taken aback; his eyes widened and he froze mid-growl. "What do you mean?" he snapped.

"If he were anyone else, you'd have left him to himself long before now, or you'd have finished him off for being a threat. I know you Baby Boy, you an this Kurt...there's somethin' more goin' on," said Seven.

Eight was silent for a while. Seven was right. There was much more to the situation with Kurt than there had been with previous such encounters. He liked Kurt. He had always liked Kurt, and felt more strangely about him than anyone else. No matter how much he had hurt Kurt, or how much Kurt had hurt him, he'd looked at him with a sort of fondness which seemed to surpass simple respect or admiration for a fellow fighter. Perhaps it was love...

"Baby Boy, you know you gonna lose him...." said Seven.

Randy VIII frowned and shook his head. "I... I ain't ready for that yet." There were still so many things to figure out.

"You two can't fight for ever....I ain't know what he did, but his life ain't his anymore," said Seven.

With a sigh, Randy VIII sank to the floor beside Seven's bed. "I didn't know it would end up this way," he muttered.

"Sorry Baby Boy, but at least you'll be more careful next time," Seven groped around until he reached Randy's head to give him a pat.

Randy VIII bit him, though only lightly. "What next time? How could I have been prepared for this? I'm not supposed to love him! You were right; if it were anyone else, I wouldn't care... but I do and I'm not even sure why."

"If it were anyone else you'd have left him after the attack and that would have been the end of things between you, but you carried on an' now you've made a genuine enemy who hates you and will stop at nothing until one of you dies, and so the poor fool done sealed his own fate," said Seven rubbing Eight's hair, "How you gonna fix this mess Baby Boy?"

Eight gave in and let Seven touch him, leaning into his hand for comfort. He snorted. "Maybe I'll just have to make him love me, too," he grumbled, though it was little more than a joke to fill the space where a real answer would have been. For the moment, he didn't have one. "Why'd I have to be so drawn to that crazy fucker?"

"Cause he's a crazy fucker?" Seven offered his own feeble attempt at a joke, rubbing Eight's hair gently.

"Must be," replied Eight. He placed one of his hands over Seven's. "C'I tell you a secret?"

"Sure you can Baby Boy," said Seven.