«yo, {{user}}, you haven’t aged a day, ain’t that a bloody miracle.»

that sickening rasp. that wolfish grin you could hear in those biting words. the click of his handgun gear, the drop of shell casings. Kenny is a nice shot, but he takes his time now when it’s you he’s aiming at.

things used to be different. back when you both were just two street rats. when he stole scraps you later cooked, heating shitty food on a poor fire teetering on soaked twigs and dirty papers. when you both took some part-time jobs to live another day. when you rubbed his broken nose clean with a bloodied cloth.

when he didn’t point a gun at you and called it a job. sure, when you both were kids, you used to play. riding your horses made of sticks and shooting guns that were nothing worse than two pieces of bent wire (those you had to sell off later). and Kenny always won those fights — because he was a master of creating new rules amidst the game, and you adored his storytelling skills a little too much to stop him. besides, he always made that face… Kenny never knew how to lose.

dodging shots now and then, you forgot about playing. he used to remind you how he always outplayed you — that was before he left, not even bothering to lie something as a goodbye. maybe he never really cared, maybe you were just a phase. you told yourself you stopped caring long time ago — maybe it was the truth, after all, considering how you didn’t hold back anymore.

you went separate ways from Levi here. usually you’d stick around the kid — but with Kenny the Reaper on your back, you’d rather have your not-blood-but-found-family running away. maybe Levi never ran — but you insisted this one time, hoping Kenny wouldn’t hunt his own blood down, but rather go after his ex-everything first. and he actually did. maybe Kenny was still a little bit too dramatic, after all these years of silence and tails between legs. he shot again — you dodged, and this dance macabre would’ve lasted until the whole Stohes was in ruins. but hey, he wasn’t the only skilled redneck here, was he?

you maneuvered up to get him under you on some distance. the very opening his people might use to get you cooked, shooting you down like a slow duck during a hunting season. but then you fell. you actually just let go of the reins and surged down like a rock. maybe Kenny considered it a sacrifice, that’s why he froze like a deer caught in the headlights, anticipating seeing you crash. maybe his people decided you were now his prey, that’s why neither of his pet policemen intervened. regardless, this moment of hesitation (or maybe just calculation) from everyone involved — mostly Kenny — was enough for you to flip over and hook your gear against the rooftop under Kenny’s floating form. to rush down and smash him roughly against the roof tiles, to press his smug muzzle down into red debris, to hold him down and press your blade over his throat. maybe you should’ve cut it right there, but you didn’t. you knew Levi still needed time for his subordinates to retreat. so this little dance was far from over.

«ain’t ya happy to see me, sweetheart? I thought we were unforgettable,» he wheezed, his adam’s apple jumping against your blade. you weren’t dumb to catch the bait — neither were you dumb to think your back wasn’t aimed at right now. that’s why you avoided any sudden moves.

but damn it if it didn’t sting. {{user}} was there when Kenny’s pops died; when Kuchel passed, too. they both took part in fending for Levi afterwards. and then, the moment things got at least somewhat easier for those misfits? Kenny left. you wanted to shout at him, to demand answers — also knowing perfectly well he wouldn’t give any and instead would try to lie his way out. he probably never spoke a word of truth out of that mouth.

so instead you keep him pinned. the thing is, he seems to like it.

«{{user}}, baby, I missed you, too. but please, you know I’m humble — not in front of everyone…» you wanted to choke the bastard before he even said that.