Never Alone Again |N.R|

Why?

6:00 am rolled around eventually and it was time for me to get out of bed and ready for training. I had a quick shower before changing into an all black outfit that consisted of leggings, a hoodie and trainers. I could only hope that Steve would start off light today since it had been a while, but that was unlikely. So as I made my way to the training room I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, convinced that I'd desperately need it at some point. When I arrived to the training room I was 10 minutes late, but only Steve was there to greet me.

"Where's everyone else?" I asked, curious since this was meant to be team training.

"They're training after you. It's just you and me." He replied.

"Why aren't they training with me?" I already knew the answer, but I needed him to confirm it so that the anger and hurt I felt was warranted.

"I'm not going to sugar coat it. They didn't want to train with you." There it was, the pang of hurt in my heart. A lump forming in my throat as I held back my tears so hard that my eyes didn't even turn glassy. He couldn't know how much this hurt.

"And why's that?" There was an underlying frustration to my tone.

"Because they don't trust you Rue. Neither do I, but I'm confident that I could hold you off if I had to." I clenched my fists, considering what to say.

"I'd like to train alone then please. It's probably best that you train with your team anyway. Good for morale." I stared at him now, my expression cold.

"Fine." He walked out of the room, and my eyes followed him until he disappeared from view. When I was sure that he was gone, I let the tears fall. They streamed down my cheeks, and I had to kneel on the floor as my body wracked in sobs. After a minute or so, the tears stopped and I wiped the last of them away. I couldn't allow myself to cry anymore. They'd hurt me enough and now it was time to move on, although I'd like to say a word before I do.

But first I needed to train. My body was fairly out of shape, and if anything would prove my unmatched loyalty to the team it would be me working my arse off. So I started on the treadmill, running 10 km as fast as I could. I should've probably stopped after that but I refused to, so I made my way over to the weight bench. I did all manner of lifts to work my arms, with the heaviest weight I could carry, before hitting the punching bag. I unleashed heavy punches over and over until the nausea was too much. I threw up in a bin off to the side before getting back to the bag, my body and clothes now drenched in sweat.

As I was punching the bag the team arrived for their training, all surprised to see me. I hadn't expected to train for 2 hours but here we were. As they all filtered in I pulled the wraps (that were covered in blood) off of my hands, put my hoodie on and lifted the hood before leaving. They all stared at me as I walked across the room but I refused to look at any of them, unwilling to see whatever looks they were giving me. Instead I headed back to my room to take a shower. I had to keep the water pretty cold to avoid passing out, but my muscles were grateful none the less. I rubbed the blood from my knuckles, wincing at the sting but also welcoming it. It felt good to feel something for once. Once I stepped out of the shower I got dressed in my usual jogging bottoms, but this time I only put on a t-shirt as my body was still boiling. I'd overworked myself, let my anger get the better of me, but there was nothing I could do about it now. I decided to lay down on my bed and close my eyes, begging for sleep to come and to my surprise it did.

(-)

When I woke up I checked the clock, 4:13 pm. I'd been asleep for about seven hours, which meant I wouldn't sleep again for a couple of days at least. Not unless I employed the help of alcohol, which I didn't mind. As I sat there, still groggy from my slumber, I poured myself a glass of Tony's whiskey that I'd taken last night. It felt warm as it ran down my throat, waking me up instantly. After a couple of glasses the bottle was empty, and I wanted another so I left my room and headed for the kitchen. I took the empty decanter with me as I had no use for it now, and I'd just trade it for one that was full. That seemed fair. But as I rounded the corner I was met with the same scene from last night. Everyone gathered around the table chatting and laughing, with my absence meaning nothing to them. It had upset me last night, but now it just pissed me off. It felt like they were waving it in my face, taunting me with their family that I was no longer welcome to be a part of.