"Nah..." Randy VIII shook his head unenthusiastically. "Sorry, sug'."

Kurt scrutinized him, "What's eating you?"

Randy raised an eyebrow at him. "Why you care?"

I'm just curious," said Kurt a little too nonchalantly.

Randy tilted his head and eyed Kurt for a moment. "My mother died," he said quietly.

Kurt raised his eyebrows, "Oh...m...my condolences," he said gently.

"I never felt anything like this before," said Randy. He was quiet, contemplative. At length he nodded toward the interior of the house. "Don't s'pose you wanna...?"

Kurt jerked and took a step back, "In there...alone with you?" he hesitated.

"Yeah." Randy shrugged and nodded. "I know you don't like me none... but a drink and a talk never hurt nobody," he reasoned. "You can go back to killin' me after." He smiled weakly. "I got four flavors of beer."

Against his better judgement Kurt agreed, "W...well alright....but only for a moment," he said.

Randy led him inside. "It's a little messy," he warned. "I ain't been feelin' too hot these last few weeks." They passed through a spacious living room with soft red carpet and a mix of photos and paintings decorating the walls. Randy's idea of "messy" seemed to be a few videos out of their cases, a pair of socks on the floor, and a half-empty pack of cigarettes sitting on the coffee table. As they entered the kitchen, a light from within the ceiling turned on automatically. Randy headed to the fridge and took out two small, round bottles. "Try that," he said, handing one to Kurt. Meanwhile, he settled into a chair by the kitchen table, which had a lighter and a few cigarettes strewn across the middle of it. He picked one up and lit it, eyes strangely distant despite the fact that they were following Kurt.

Kurt sniffed the drink, his eyes darting around the room nervously, he took a cautious sip, "You...ah...you don't seem to be doing to well, how did your mother die?" he asked.

"She was killed," said Randy. He pushed the chair opposite him away from the table with his foot. "Siddown; nothin's gonna jump out an' grab you... I'm the one who oughtta worry about that, remember?" The statement, while intended to be playful, lacked the enthusiasm it might have had under different circumstances.

Kurt frowned and sat, "Killed? Why would anyone kill your mother?" he asked, "Do you know who might have done it? Why hasn't this crime been reported?"

"It happened in Schickelgruber territory. Things work a little different for us, if you haven't noticed," Randy replied in a cloud of smoke. "I been thinkin' a lot lately..." He sighed and took a drink from his bottle. "Maybe it'd be best if we just got this thing over with, you an' me." He motioned to Kurt and himself with the hand that held the cigarette, drawing a little zig-zag with the smoke. "But then, that'd be a lot for my father an' my brothers to handle at once. So if you could possibly stand to maybe wait it out a little while, you know..." He arched one eyebrow significantly before drawing from the cigarette again.

Kurt curled his lip, "As if I'd fight you while you were in this state, I'm not a coward and if we're going to fight to the death you'd best be at your best, I refuse to engage in any kind of combat with you while you are in this condition," he snorted.

Randy watched him quietly. "It have to be a fight?" he questioned. "I mean, if you just wanna be rid of me and I agree to it..."

Kurt shook his head, "Where is the honor in that? I took down a man when he was at his lowest point, that is cowardice and I will not end your life today, not when you are so wretched,"

Randy shrugged. "But you know... in the future. If it must be a fight, you might wanna bring a gun or two. Sometimes I think maybe I'm more trouble than I'm worth, but I'm just too stubborn to let myself die. So if you're gonna do it, you best be sure you can take me, or this thing is gonna drag out forever."

"So be it," said Kurt, he stared at Randy for a long moment, "You really loved her didn't you? Your mother I mean....what...what is that like?"

"Like... a warm blanket," murmured Randy. "She was always there. She always knew what to do. Sometimes I'd laugh at 'er for gettin' worried over every little cut and scrape... but inside, it felt good to know she cared so much. Even if she don' like what I do, I can put my arms around 'er and she'll kiss me an' call me her sweet baby. I'da done anything for my mother. She was perfect." His lip quivered ever so slightly. "She didn't even blame me..."

Kurt nodded, "I never knew that feeling....why would she have blamed you?"

"The person who killed her... was tryin'a get back at me," Randy replied. "He knew he couldn't take me, my father, or my brothers... He wouldn't have managed to get anywhere near my mother if I had been able to track him, but he ran off. See, he was my first... I never intended to do it that way. I never thought I could be like that." Though he didn't say it directly, he was speaking of rape. "It happened and I left 'im broken there in the alley... an' I was scared. I got my shit together an' came back to find 'im, but he was gone. Somebody musta drove by and picked 'im up, took 'im outta town, 'cause we couldn't track 'im down after that. Figured he was gone for good, but then he come back years later... and he took my mother."

Kurt's mouth drew into a tight line, "I see...." he was silent for a long moment, on one hand, to see Randy suffer for his crime was exactly what he wanted...on the other, to have it happen like this was the last thing he wanted, "If it's any consolation....as much as I hate you, you do not deserve this," he said.

Randy exhaled sharply, smoke framing his face as his eyes misted with tears. "She didn't deserve this. Neither did the rest a' my family." He held his head in his hands, cigarette ground between pointed teeth until it was rendered unusable. He spat it into what remained of his beer. "An' they don't deserve to be put at risk by this thing I done got into with you, either."

With a sigh Kurt pulled out his handkerchief and wiped Randy's eyes, "No, they don't and I wouldn't attack any of them unless they came after me first, but you mustn't blame yourself for your mother's loss, while it was your actions that set the events in motion it is cowardly to attack a man's family because you are not man enough to face your enemy directly, that is not on you," he was surprised at how easy it was, to sit and wipe Randy's tears, for a moment he couldn't even remember why he hated him so...he attributed it to the late evening, the long week and seeing Randy VIII in such a wretched state.

Randy reached one hand toward Kurt's, instinctively moving to hold it to his cheek for comfort. He froze, realizing what he was doing, and the hand seemed to tremble slightly before retreating back into his hair. He sniffed, blinking away the last of the tears, and gazed across the table at Kurt. It was clear that he didn't care how much Kurt disliked him or wanted him dead. He didn't seem to mind those things at all, and in that moment he was very grateful for his company. He supposed he should have been surprised by Kurt's response, but perhaps due to his emotional state (or so he later told himself), it seemed quite natural and at the time he didn't bother to question it.

Sensing that Randy wanted to be touched Kurt let the very tips of his calloused fingers skim his cheek, not knowing exactly why he wanted to do that or why he was even in this room at all anymore....

Randy shut his eyes briefly and tilted his head to better meet with Kurt's fingers in a show of appreciation. Somehow, that interaction had managed to comfort him more than all of the hugging and talking he'd done with his father or brothers in the past few weeks...

Kurt stilled, letting his hand remain on Randy's cheek for a minute. Then he snatched it away as though he'd been burned, "No...no that isn't right...I shouldn't....I should go," he said, drawing a shaky breath.

Randy looked at him and gave a single nod. Of course... Kurt shouldn't be comforting him. Kurt shouldn't even be sitting in his kitchen. Thank you, his thoughts seemed to say nonetheless as they extended within Kurt's realm of perception without coming in the form of distinct words.

Kurt stood, frozen for an instant, his unwavering gaze fixed on Randy as he subconsciously received the thought, then, as though he were a bird taking flight...he burst out of the room and was gone.

Randy didn't leave his chair. For a long time he sat contemplating everything that had happened, and then at last he stood slowly and went upstairs to get dressed.

Kurt was half way home before he let himself acknowledge what had happened. How could he have offered Randy comfort? Why was he compelled to do that? Why had it felt so....right?

The following day, Randy VIII was back at work. He still wasn't in a cheerful mood, but he went about his business as usual. He didn't stop in to see Kurt, though a routine spray and trap check did bring him within visual range of his station.

Kurt was outside patrolling the street wen he caught sight of Randy...without thinking he raised a hand to acknowledge him...

Randy returned the gesture, finding it a bit strange but assuming that any perceived "niceness" on Kurt's part was nothing more than a temporary effect of what had happened the previous day. Randy supposed he shouldn't have been too surprised by this, knowing what he did about Kurt, and continued his circle about the building he'd been checking.

Kurt also went about his day as always, trying very hard not to think about Randy VIII or his current feelings...

Things continued to be relatively quiet for the next several weeks after that. Randy VIII was still adjusting after the loss of his mother and, though he hadn't mentioned it to Kurt, his first experience with having ever actually killed anyone. He was in little mood to fight, but went back to keeping watch from a distance. He knew that things were far from over, though, and little by little he started working his way back to "normal".

Kurt let Randy go, allowing him time to heal but eventually things started to return to normal and the day came when Randy got to close for comfort and Kurt bared his teeth at him.