<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family:Open Sans">Niegel's eyes trained hard on Chrys when he presumed to know his situation. What Ron had told him. It didn't matter that this was a felony. He'd done it, and he was in for the long haul. He'd had plenty enough time to think about it. The seed had been planted during his time held as a prisoner. Hold on so that he could come back and ruin Ron's perfect life.<br/>
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“You don't know how worth it,” he told him softly, his nostrils flaring. He looked away for a moment, out the window, watching a bird land on one of the branches outside. In the next instant he had jumped on Chrys, rage clouding his vision, teeth pulled back from his lips in a silent snarl. His hands found their way around the boy's throat, tension pulled throughout his entire body. He wanted to wring his fucking neck.<br/>
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“I was not tortured because of <i>my</i> mistake. Your father fucked that mission up. He blamed me because he knew I wouldn't say anything. Likely, he didn't think I'd live to tell about it at all. Your brave daddy watched as enemy soldiers dispatched half our unit right there in the fucking sand,” Niegel corrected. He hadn't let Chrys get in a single breath, he just shifted his weight against the struggling, tied up form. It wouldn't due to crush his windpipe, Niegel realized and finally loosened his hold enough that he could breath again. He still pressed him back, still straddled him, one hand against his throat.<br/>
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“No one tells that side of the story though.”<br/>
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Chrys had been trying to reason with him afterwords, hoping to soothe him, but he'd said all the wrong things. He was frowning now, gently running his thumb along the line of Chrys' throat.<br/>
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“Do you know what it's like to be left in the hands of the enemy, Chrys? Do you?” Niegel questioned in another spurt of madness, his thumb nail digging a crescent shape into his skin.<br/>
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“You fucking will.” He spoke the words confidentially, nodding. Knowing that seemed to calm Niegel down enough that he was coming back to himself after Chrys' little slip up.<br/>
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“You know why I was really discharged, Chrys?” Niegel waved his hand in front of the young man's face. “No, don't answer that. Shut your mouth right this second. Your father got me discharged because he liked to play games with the civilians. The times we were meant to provide humanitarian relief. He liked to pick boys no older than you, Chrys, and he'd do no better to them than what I will be doing. I got in his way about it, and he got me discharged. I was better over there. I had a purpose over there.” Niegel had been jealous, even if Ron's attention towards the Afghani civilians were not always welcomed.<br/>
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“I know this isn't right Chrys. I just don't know any other way to make him realize how badly he fucked up his life; how badly he fucked up mine,” he went on, looking almost reproachful. “It's easy with you, to look down and hate you. Fuck, you remind me so much of him.” He leaned closer, that hatred lacing his features, but instead of doing something to hurt Chrys, he leaned down and kissed him. It was still somewhat violent, and forceful, and part of Niegel still wanted to choke the life out of him but it was easier to forget himself, at least until he was brought back to the actual situation at hand.</span></span>