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It had been a lonely homecoming for Kamboja. His brother was still missing but at risk of being killed by an insane chaos-controlled senshi, he'd had to finally call his endless search to a close. There was no Khetal to welcome him home, Penny was busy meeting deadlines, and Delphine was enjoying not having to do anything for once. She'd kicked him out of her room with strict orders not to interrupt the bonding time she was having with her bed. His best friend.. well. He couldn't even bring himself to dial her phone number.

Instead he'd turned to Bo and a few of his other friends for a distraction and, with a little more persuading than it normally took to get Kamboja to come out, some of his old buddies had gotten him out to a club. He'd barely been back a week which, by Kamboja terms, meant he was severely behind on his lady loving. His friends laughed and jeered per usual, pointing out likely candidates and the bitchiest faces they wanted to see Kam test his luck with. He passed with a complaint about his ribs which earned him a light-hearted round of boos, but left him in somewhat peace. He joined in with the laughter, encouraged the sport, but hung back calmly by the circular booth they had secured for themselves.

"Hey bro, your turn," a shaggy blonde nudged Kam in the shoulder, at least careful of his ribs no matter how much flack they gave him for it. He made a joke under his breath as he stood, leaving the boys behind him calling out jeers that he waved off with a half-smirk and rude gesture. Then he simply slid into the crowd, careful to find the widest openings so no one would accidentally jab him in his tender torso. As he slid up to the bar, he passed a charming smile at a slinky brunette in a red dress. Her lashes fluttered and she gave him an over-the-shoulder stare, holding it as she walked back towards a table of girls.

"Another round, right?" Kam's eyes snapped back to the bartender who was smirking. He'd shaved his head bald and had a neck tattoo spread halfway up his skull. "She's a man eater." He set out the variety of beer bottles and started popping the tops off with a bartender's quick, practiced precision. Kam scooped up the Yuengling and took a swig.

"Thanks for the warning, man." He shot one last glance after the brunette, then grabbed the four beers he had to carry back to his buddies, situating them in the crook of his left army carefully. He turned and almost immediately knocked his elbow right into someone waiting to get to the bar's edge and order. His drinks were fine but it seemed he had knocked the girl a little off balance - he reached with his semi-free hand (he was still holding his own beer by his first three fingers) and quickly tried to steady her with an arm behind her back so she wouldn't fall.

"Hey, sorry, are you-" and then his dark eyes recognized who he was really seeing in the shadows of the club, "s**t." He swallowed but his throat froze on him for a moment, dumbfounded by the fact that he wasn't.. quite ready for this reunion.

Kam at least managed to get her righted on her heels before he started letting his eyes wander away from her face. He was struck dumb first by seeing her when he'd never called, but also by how much she had really changed in two years. The last time he was in town it was so brief that he'd never seen her, never even called to let her know.

"I was gonna call," he paused and let his eyes flicker down to where her hand fluttered against his chest, distracted as the heart beneath quickened to her touch. He managed to collect his face and lower his arm from her back. He looked down at his beer bottles and took an extra moment to readjust them for proper anti-slip position. It also gave him a second to collect himself.

He glanced back up with his best charming smile, though even as he spoke this time he was caught by the sudden realization of what was hanging around her neck. Onlookers would probably assume he was openly staring at her breasts, no doubt, but he was stunned by the fact that she was wearing something so important to him after all this time.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't know what to say, Van." He didn't know how to tell her he'd failed. How he'd wasted all this time for nothing but 5 rib fractures and a shattered tibia. Even his smile looked a little sad an unsure at second glance and his voice was lower, soft enough that it was hard to hear outside of them.

He followed Vanessa carefully with his eyes, watching as she ordered her drinks and not missing the small eyebrow raise from the bartender, the question all in the way the line of piercings shifted.

"A couple of weeks-ish," Kam shrugged a little, downplaying the fact that he wasn't quite sure or was going to pretend as much. He was just about to ask her to come have a drink with him when another guy approached and took a drink out of Van's hand. Being the kind of guy that he was, Kam was offended for the smallest second. It took him from the time Vanessa smacked Blake's hand to the way he leaned in to murmur in her ear for Kam to realize this was someone Van was personal with.

His jaw set tightly and any hint of humor, worried or not, was gone. By the time Blake reached out with a free hand to shake, Kam was as calm and stony as the Statue of Zeus. He did regrettably raise the hand with his beer in it and shrug a little in answer to the handshake, turning him down with the inclination that his hands were too full. And because the only thought in his head at that moment was <******** this guy.

"Nice to meet you, Blake." He brought the beer in his hand up in toast and took a swig, a substitute for not having to shake his hand. He wasn't sure he could keep himself from throwing a punch if he freed up his hand anyway - it was a compelling urge.

"Uh, the name's Kam. Sorry, just got back into town."

Kam raised a brow at the way Blake worded YOUR Kam at Vanessa, but said nothing about the awkward way she answered. He wondered silently what Blake had heard of him suddenly, good and bad.

That was a troubling road to wander though, and he stopped.

"Only after I chop their head off." He flashed a passable smile, friendly and with a small smirk to compliment his joking retort. To his luck, he saw a couple of his friends standing at the booth and making absurd gestures about how long it was taking him to bring back a few drinks. He saw one awkward turtle and another friend pretending to be an old man with a walker.

"I should probably get back to those bozos though," he pointed once again with the hand holding his own beer, sparing a finger to point out the ruffians on the other side of the dance floor. "If I don't bring them beer right away, they'll turn into miniature Hulks and start smashing things." His apologetic smile was back but he looked happy enough, maybe just without his normal enthusiasm for listening to his own voice.

He started to back away through the crowd, glancing up just long enough to call back "nice to meet you!" before he was engulfed by the people around him. His head was even partially visible above the crowd once he got to the other side. From a distance it was clear his friends were poking their nose in his business, but he just shook his head and waved them off with some half-hearted joke that still earned a round of drunken chuckles.

He made sure to stay well out of their vicinity for the rest of the night but the very first thing he did when he got home was find a piece of paper for a message. He simply scrawled "come over if you want to talk about it" and pressed his seal into the paper, watching as it vanished with a small *pop* from his hand.

Kam glanced up from where he was sprawled on the couch, taken by surprise at the knock on his door so.. early? He frowned at the clock on his phone and stood, pulling his pajama pants higher on his hips but not even bothering to find a shirt before he crossed the length of his living room. Short of the president showing up on his doorstep, Kam didn't normally get dressed for company and given the timing - it wasn't the president.

But even knowing who was beyond the threshold didn't make him any less lost for words when he swung the door open and saw her standing there. If he'd been surprised in the dark lighting of the club, he was definitely stumped seeing her now in the dim glow of his porch light. He managed a small smile for her, regardless, and tried not to let it show that he'd spent the last few hours alternating between being blown away that she had blossomed and being hurt because she had clearly moved on despite the necklace hanging across her chest.

"Hey," he finally said after a moment, shaking his head a little and awkwardly stepping to the side to open the door enough for her to walk in. "Sorry, come in. It smells kind of like old people though." He made a face and waved her into the living room, expecting her to just sit wherever she felt like it. He wasn't really a fussy host. Ever. He just let the door shut behind them and thanked Princess Mars that his wrecking ball of a roommate was out doing.. whatever she was doing. Probably eating youma for an early breakfast.

Despite his best efforts to be a proper gentleman, he found his eyes wandering across the exposed skin of her thighs just below the very short line of her skirt. In the end he was still just Kam, and she was hot. As he flopped back down on the couch, a little less sprawled than before, he managed to pull his eyes away and refocus them long enough to mute the volume on the TV. There was an awkward silence stretching out between them but he didn't seem to be willing to take the first leap - this talking thing was way more up her alley. He grabbed a dented beer can from the side table and took a swig, trying for the hundredth time to pop the dent back out with pressure but only managed to move it to the opposite side.

He grimaced, eyes focused on the can, but finally let out a very slow: "sooooo.."

He swallowed hard at her question, momentarily forgetting all of the problems he was finding in this reunion. Through it all, Vanessa had been the one shining beacon that reminded him he had to eventually go home. He'd always thought she'd be there, waiting, wanting. He'd been wrong. The only thing that overshadowed that and, unfortunately, the only thing that had ever forced him to see that was his never-ending quest to save a brother he'd let down.

"No."

The answer was short, clipped, ashamed. His eyes involuntarily flickered to the hem of his pajamas where they rode halfway up his sprawled calf. There was a jagged, puckered pink line drawn down the exposed skin - a fresh surgery line. It went from almost to his ankle, nearly up to his knee. It would fade and blend with time, but he knew it'd forever be noticeable. A forever reminder of his failure.

"I found.. Alkaid." His brows knit as he stared blankly at the TV. Then, for the first time since she'd sat down, they wandered over to Vulcan. "Do you know her? What's.. she's wrong." He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the disturbing images, the helplessness of his civilian identity. The beer can was to his lips before he knew it, finding a solace in it that he normally only found in women. He swallowed down the hoppy taste and let the beer can rest lightly on his knee.

"She told me he didn't want to be found and left me five cracked ribs and a shattered tibia for emphasis." His foot twitched at the memory but he ignored it, letting his eyes first fall and then slide back to the muted television where Lucy Ball was covered in flour. "I can't.. help him, Van." His eyes remained blankly on the TV but his fingers curled, ever so slightly, into the already dented beer can. It shed a little light onto why it was dented in the first place. "He's in over his head, but I don't know why, or how."

The words flowed out of him, out into the open space where his best friend was waiting to hear it. Nemesis knew he wanted to save his brother but these were open words. Words for Van. For Vulcan. He never thought of a scenario where he came home and didn't have her - that was what was so hard about this homecoming.

He tensed the moment her fingers brushed his leg, partly because she was tracing the reminder of his failure and partly because she was touching him at all. Despite his mixed feelings, she left a wake of warmth behind her fingers, filling him with a sudden sense of comfort and (worst) longing. If he'd come back just a little sooner..

He frowned and let his eyes drift up to Vanessa, studying her rich skin and the way her hair fell in wild ringlets around her face. She was a woman on fire, proud and strong, and beautiful. He swallowed the knowledge down, never even moved to touch her in response. Was this how she'd always felt? Maybe he deserved it, all of it. He spurned her affections and now he would carry a love with him that would never be returned. He'd left his brother behind and now he'd been taken away where he'd never find him. A long sigh passed his lips and he let his eyes close, as if he were suddenly too weary to keep them open.

"There are worse things than being dead, Van," it was softly spoken but it rang true. He believed that with every fiber of his being. He had seen Alkaid, up close and personal.

With his eyes closed, her hand became the only thing he was aware of. It was a small fire against the shame he felt from the still healing injuries, but it was also a threat to burning up what little sanity he was holding onto in his dark moments. His eyes parted slowly and he reached out to grab her hand with his. It didn't linger though, he only offered one small squeeze before he pulled his leg down to the floor and straightened his back up enough so that he was only leaning into the pillows. Then his hand drifted away, joining the first to make a cup holder for his beer.

"I don't want to talk about it right now, if that's okay. I just.." his jaw clenched and unclenched, working at some unseen stress. He let his words trail off and took another swig of his beer.

"Blake seems nice."

"What?" The mellow, borderline tragic mood he was in shattered instantly as he somewhat blurted his response. He set the beer down without looking on the side table and should have stopped to thank the powers that be that he didn't spill half a beer onto the carpet. But he was sliding closer to her out of sudden concern, especially the moment her eyes glittered with the first drops of tears.

"I know, I know, I know," he said in quick succession, reaching out at first to put an arm around her but in the end awkwardly settling for setting his hand on hers. He wanted so badly to be selfish because in this moment, right then, he could win and Blake would never be a problem. Yet that meant destroying values that he knew Vanessa held dear. That was something more important than his own gain.

"I missed you too, okay?" His fingers flexed on her hand for a moment, as if he might lace his fingers with hers, but he let the pressure go at a second thought. "Don't think that I didn't." He stared sadly into her big star bright eyes, wishing she just understood what he was doing for once. He was trying to make her proud and be selfless for the first time ever but it was going to cost him. He felt like he could write an amazing 90s love song right now.

"But, Van, I'm not going to be that guy." His voice was soft, though if it was because he was trying to be gentle with her or that he could hardly say the words was hard to tell. "I'll be here if you need me, but things are different now. They have to be."