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In the years since Kamboja Vaiphei had run away from his problems and taken an extended soul-searching trip through South America, very few things had changed. He still had a problem talking about the things that were eating at him and an even bigger problem with relieving the stress in a healthy way. That was probably why he was walking out of bar just as the sun was beginning to set, the time when most of the patrons were walking in.

For the dark man it had at least been a relatively modest binge. He could still walk straight and his eyes hadn't glazed over with a lack of focus. The smell of whiskey lingered beneath the scent of his musty cologne, though, and his reaction time seemed to be just about the only thing impaired. He was still collected enough to be aware of the challenge and, instead of climbing back into the driver's seat of the Jeep he'd parked in the small parking lot next to the street, he shoved the keys in the pocket of his jeans and turned down the sidewalk for home.

There were plenty of people still milling about in the final rays of daylight and that was what he took comfort in most. Here, there would be not attacks, not yet. Confident that he had enough peripheral vision to guide him, he dug out a pack of cigarettes and began fishing out the lighter he had shoved into the half empty box.

Already having forgotten his reaction impairment, he plowed one thick arm into someone walking the opposite direction almost immediately and jolted back to attention.

"s**t, I'm sorry.."

But his eyes were already narrowing on the woman he'd nearly knocked over, and all the cogs were clicking into place one by one.

Despite the not-so-graceful way the encounter had begun, he couldn't help the amused smile that spread his lips as soon as she began fussing. He'd forgotten what it was like to be in the presence of someone that cared about more than the bulky muscle he'd tacked on in the last seven years.

"It's 5 o'clock somewhere, right?" He was chuckling to himself, at himself, as he stooped down and grabbed the packet of cigarettes he'd dropped in his haste. That was when he noticed the coffee he'd spilled in his carelessness.

"I wouldn't call it drunk, Fee. Happily buzzed is more like it." His words weren't slurring and he seemed entirely in control of his facial reactions, which was more than he could say of himself at times. To her, the one girl that hadn't spent much time with him as a s**t-faced drunk, the signs might've been less obvious. He thought he was actually practicing a considerable deal of restraint.

"Let me buy you a new cup of coffee, please? And you can bother me about whatever mother hen nonsense you want to on the way." He was avoiding the question kind of, but he was still agreeing to let her talk to him about it. One hand rose and pointed down the street in the direction of his favorite coffee joint, then it fell back to his packet of cigarettes, picking through the sticks that had broken in the fall until he could find a whole one.

The burly dreadhead brought the butt of his cigarettes to his lips, then cupped his hands around the tip as he struck the lighter to life with one practiced motion. It took mere seconds before he had it puffed to life, chuckling around the butt at her demands as he worked and causing wisps of smoke to curl out past his dark smile.

"Alright, alright," he conceded before blowing out a long exhale. One hand fumbled for a moment as he shoved the package of cigarettes back into his jeans but once he had, he held it out and closed his dark fingers around her more delicate, pale hand. "I'm not going to argue if you wanna hold my hand, Fee."

The booze was definitely helping him ease through a situation that would have, under normal circumstances, been much more nerve-wracking. The last time he'd seen her she had been in tears and very, very upset with him. He wouldn't claim that he didn't deserve it, but neither would he have suggested that the two of them would ever try and have an honest conversation again. There had been that promise, though, even as Fiona fled his apartment with tears rolling down her pretty cheeks.

If you need me..

But did he? When was the point when he needed anyone? What was too much to shoulder alone? He thought about all the reasons that he was really in a bar in the late afternoon drinking away his sorrows. There was only one that he could even begin to explain and even that he couldn't really tell her in full, his innocent high school sweetheart that he had a hard time believing had any involvement in the cosmic war he'd unwillingly committed his soul to.

Regardless, he tugged her into a walk and headed down the street, reaching up to take the cigarette butt between his first two fingers casually.

"I'll buy you the coffee, come on. I'm not spending my inheritance on anything worthwhile anyway." Though the smile he flashed at her was amused, it was made at his own expense. "Do you wanna drink it here? We can just go for a walk or something, before curfew and all."

The half-step he kept in front of her wasn't by coincidence. With her hand in his, he was remembering all the times they had walked through the halls of high school or down the city streets with their fingers entwined. It had been a young love, but a bright one, from an easier time in his life. Like Fiona, he was realizing that it was a life time ago, when he was at peace in blissful ignorance. The world had turned out to be a much harsher place than Fiona's Kam had ever thought it would be.

Without a second glance at the few people who grimaced at his cigarette, the dreadhead tugged her lightly through the tables outside to get to the service window. The girl standing behind the counter smiled at him and waved, obviously familiar with the dark brute, and if she was surprised to see someone new hand-in-hand, she certainly didn't show it.

"Hey Dia, I need one non-fat latte with two raw sugars and a regular coffee, black." It had been a while, but Kam still remembered the order she'd taken in high school. He set the cigarette butt between his lips and used his free hand to fish out his wallet, puffing gently around the filter as he slid his card free and handed it over. By the time Dia returned with the coffees, he'd finished his cigarette and ground it out with the heel of his boot. He handed Fiona's off to her as he looked down at her mismatched eyes.

"Alright, lead the way," although his smile was in place, the tightness in his eyes suggested that he knew what was coming. Now that he didn't have chivalry to distract himself with, he owed her an explanation for something he didn't know if he could explain - not completely, anyway. He'd just wait for her to start digging again since running away at this point was obviously not an option.

Kam seemed utterly content to walk silently, hand-in-hand, sipping on the coffee that helped bite back some of the first chills of the Destiny City night. He had hoped, after she didn't immediately jump on his case, that they might just have a nice stroll with no need to dredge up his problems.

That wasn't in his cards, ultimately, not with Fiona's ability to dwell. When he spoke, he could only tell her the part of his problem that didn't involve magical Knights and the terrorist organization that the city seemed so quick to condemn.

"Khal disappeared again. I'm not even sure you knew that I found him, it was so ********.. brief." As he began to talk, his pace slowed and the fingers entwined in her flexed and tensed alternately, as if he wasn't sure if he needed to hold her grip for support or let it go to curl in on himself and shield his feelings away. "There was something wrong, even when he was here, his memory was.."

His words trailed off into nothing and he covered up his thoughts with a sip of coffee, staring down the trail ahead of them through his narrowed eyes. The whole set of his body was rigid, suggesting that his aloof demeanor up until that point had been a wonderful job at covering up everything - or maybe the booze was just starting to wear off in the wake of his caffeine.

"It's been four years, this time. Longer than before."

Kam's eyes had remained on the lid of his cup, as if the plain white plastic held all the answers of the universe, while Fiona lay down her words of wisdom. The things she said were all things he knew and didn't want to admit to himself, things that he had all but been told by a wicked creature he couldn't risk even explaining to his highschool sweetheart.

He knew there were only two reasons Khal was missing - he was dead, or he didn't want to be found. Which of those two he preferred, he wasn't entirely sure.

The dark eyes glanced up at her and his mouth opened to answer, but the words died as he saw the lizard youma crawl out of the underbrush. For a moment he stared in disbelief, as if it wasn't entirely commonplace to see a monster attack civilians after the sun had gone down. There was a curfew in Destiny City for a damn good reason.

What he was less used to was a girl telling him to stand behind her.

"Like hell I will."

The forethought that Fiona had to not power up lest she risk Kam being a member of the Negaverse wasn't something that occurred to him, personally. All he knew was that a youma was, once again, threatening someone he cared about - even if he'd done a damn poor job of showing it. In seconds, his magic had flooded, wrapping him in the guise of Gehenna - Squire of Mars.

Without a second thought, he put himself between Fiona and the youma, shoving her behind him with one strong arm.

The youma, as Gehenna often found, was not so strong once it came down to it. All it took was the courage to face it head on and a few well-placed, accurate swings. It was true that sometimes they were of a stronger ilk but this one had done the one thing that never made him hesitate - threatened someone he cared about.

As it reared up onto its hind legs, Ghen lowered his shoulder and charged. It was almost immediately stunned by the power of his pauldron driving into its stomach but even then, he didn't stop, spurned on by his need to make sure this thing got nowhere near Fiona. As it fell to the ground in a heap of tangled, short legs, he pummeled fist after fist into its soft underbelly, listening as it made growling, pitiful sounds of protest.

One last, strong punch to its softened flesh met its belly and Gehenna felt as it gave way, his hand ripping right through the flesh to meet the hard packed Earth on the other side. A single howl filled the night air, shrill and eerie enough to send chills down his spine, and it burst into dust - as they all did.

Though it had been dispatched rather easily from an outside perspective, Gehenna's breathing was labored and he fell quickly to a knee in his exhaustion. Behind him he knew Fiona must be wondering at him, but he didn't turn to look at her yet. He couldn't form words anyway.

Even as Gehenna, he realized, he couldn't escape Fiona's critique. The words rained down on him as he leaned an elbow on one knee, catching his breath from the small flurry of blows he'd used to dust the youma. It told him that he was spending too much time drinking whiskey and not enough practicing his combat skills - but he seldom bothered to power up anymore.

Only when someone he cared about was at risk.

"Thanks for saving me! would be a nice gesture, Fi." He commented dryly before pushing himself up to stand and face her. Yet the way she spoke, the small implications in her voice, told him that maybe he wasn't the only one with a secret identity - only that he was the only one that didn't give two shits about exposing it. The way his real name died on her lips made him want to laugh at her precautions.

"Gehenna, or Ghen, whatever you want. And I was thinking that I didn't want to see your pretty face chewed off by a big lizard, but there probably isn't much risk of that, is there?"