Waiting outside the bakery was worse than Adrian had expected.
There was nothing left to do.
The police had taken statements. The construction workers had been spoken to. The man Adrian had cut was sitting farther down the square with his forearm wrapped in a fresh bandage, answering questions from another officer.
Adrian had been given a chair.
Which somehow made everything worse.
He sat with his hands between his knees and tried not to look at anyone.
His cheek hurt. Not badly. Enough.
His knuckles hurt too, which felt less fair.
He had hit one person and somehow come away with injuries on both ends of the exchange.
Useful.
The officer who had taken his statement had gone inside the bakery to make a call.
To the CSA.
To Bruno.
Adrian had been relieved when she'd said that.
For approximately three seconds.
Bruno knew about the missing identification. Bruno knew why Adrian couldn't provide an address. Bruno knew why half the questions on the officer's form had ended with some variation of I don't know.
Bruno could explain.
That was good.
Then Adrian had imagined Bruno arriving.
That was less good.
He looked toward the road.
Nothing yet.
The square had mostly returned to normal around him. People still looked. Of course they did.
A section of the work area remained blocked off where the panels had fallen. Two workers were checking the lifting rig. Someone had collected the broken bottle.
The grey cat was gone.
Coward.
Adrian rubbed his thumb over the side of one finger.
The claw remained hidden.
He'd tested that carefully while the officer wasn't looking.
Relax the hand.
Don't think about cutting anything.
Gone.
Good.
He still had no idea what made them come out in the first place.
Fear?
Pressure?
Intent?
Some combination?
Another thing for the growing list.
Fast.
Good reflexes.
Apparently capable of jumping farther than expected.
Not especially strong.
Very much capable of being punched.
Claws.
He was beginning to suspect the new body had arrived without instructions.
A movement at the far end of the square caught his attention.
Large.
Brown.
Adrian's stomach dropped.
Bruno was coming toward them.
He wore the same dark CSA clothing as usual, badge visible against his chest. People moved around him without much thought, but there was no missing him.
A two-meter-plus brown bear walking across a village square had presence.
Adrian suddenly became extremely aware of the scene from Bruno's perspective.
Police.
Damaged construction equipment.
One bandaged man.
Adrian sitting in a chair with a swollen cheek.
Yesterday Bruno had told him to rest.
Adrian's ears lowered.
Great.
Bruno reached the nearest officer. He didn't come to Adrian first.
That was somehow worse.
Adrian watched him speak quietly with her. The officer gestured toward the construction area. Toward the bandaged man. Toward Adrian.
Bruno listened. Asked something. Listened again.
Adrian couldn't hear every word from here. Which was impressive, considering how much better his hearing had become.
He caught pieces.
"...initial confrontation..."
"...witnesses agree..."
"...moved away..."
"...then reengaged..."
Wonderful.
Bruno looked over.
Their eyes met.
Adrian looked away.
He was thirty-eight years old. He had worked full-time for most of his adult life. He had paid taxes. He had survived performance reviews, family arguments, a nearly completed engagement, and more meetings than any human being should reasonably experience.
He should not have felt like a child waiting outside the principal's office.
His tail curled around one leg of the chair anyway.
Bruno finished with the officer and walked over.
Adrian prepared several explanations at once.
The man had been drunk.
The man had started it.
Adrian had tried to move away.
The claws had been an accident.
He hadn't—
"Are you hurt?"
Adrian stopped.
Of all the things he'd prepared, that hadn't been one of them.
"My face."
"I can see that."
"Oh."
Bruno leaned slightly closer without touching him.
"Headache?"
"A little."
"Dizzy?"
"No."
"Nauseous?"
"No."
"Did you lose consciousness?"
"No."
Bruno straightened.
"Nessa should look at you when we get back."
"Okay."
A pause.
Adrian looked at him.
Bruno looked back.
There it was.
Adrian exhaled.
"He started it."
Bruno's expression didn't change.
"I know."
That took some of the momentum out of Adrian's defense.
"He was drunk."
"I know."
"He shoved me."
"I know."
"And he tried to hit me."
"I know."
Adrian frowned.
"Okay."
Bruno pulled another chair over. It complained beneath his weight but held.
He sat.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Adrian would have preferred the lecture.
Probably.
Finally Bruno spoke.
"The witnesses agree that he approached you after you bumped into him."
"Yes."
"They agree that you apologized."
"Yes."
"They agree that he became aggressive."
"Yes."
"They agree that he shoved you and attempted to hit you."
"Yes."
Adrian waited.
Bruno looked at him.
"They also agree that you moved out of his reach."
Adrian's mouth opened. Closed.
"I was trying to leave."
"You were."
"Exactly."
"Then you stopped."
There it was.
Adrian looked toward the construction area.
"He called me an animal."
Bruno was silent for a beat.
"And?"
Adrian looked back at him.
Something in Bruno's tone had sharpened. Not much. Enough.
"He—"
"And?"
Adrian's ears shifted backward.
Bruno leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees.
"He came after you. He shoved you. He tried to hit you. Those are his choices."
"Right."
"You moved away."
"Yes."
"You were faster than him."
Adrian said nothing.
"Considerably faster, according to everyone who watched you avoid the first swing."
Adrian's tail tightened around the chair leg.
"There was open street behind you."
"I know."
"And then you hit him."
Adrian looked down at his hands.
"Yeah."
Bruno's voice remained controlled.
"You don't get to use what he did to avoid what you did."
That landed harder than Adrian expected.
"I'm not."
"You started this conversation by telling me he started it."
"Because he did."
"Yes."
Bruno's voice rose slightly. Not loud. Just firmer.
"He was drunk. He was aggressive. He followed you. He tried to hurt you. The police can deal with his part."
Adrian looked at him.
"I'm asking about yours."
Something hot and defensive moved through Adrian's chest.
"I punched him once."
"And then?"
"He punched me."
"After you stayed."
Adrian's jaw tightened.
"So I was supposed to just let him call me whatever he wanted?"
"Yes."
The answer came immediately.
Adrian blinked.
Bruno sat back.
"If the alternative is an unnecessary fight with someone whose strength you don't know, whose abilities you don't know, while you don't know your own strength, your own abilities, or what happens when you're frightened?"
Adrian didn't answer.
Bruno gestured once toward the bandaged man.
"You cut him."
"I didn't mean to."
"I know."
"I didn't even know I could do that."
"I know."
The frustration was there now. Adrian could hear it.
That made something inside him shrink.
Bruno continued.
"You have no identification. No address. No records we can find. You can't tell us where you belong. You can't tell us what happened to you. You don't know how your own body works."
Each sentence felt worse than the last.
"We're trying to help you with almost nothing to work with."
Adrian's ears flattened.
Bruno didn't seem to notice yet.
"And now the police are calling because you chose to stay in a fight you could have left."
"I wasn't trying to cause trouble."
"I know."
"You think I wanted this?"
"No."
"I didn't."
"I know."
"Then—"
"You already have enough problems."
Bruno's voice was sharper now.
"More than enough. You don't need this. I don't need this. The police don't need this."
Adrian stopped speaking.
His heart had started beating faster.
Which was stupid.
Bruno wasn't threatening him. Bruno hadn't moved closer. Bruno was sitting in a chair.
He was also enormous.
Irritated.
And Adrian's body had apparently decided those facts mattered more than context.
His tail pulled tighter around the chair leg. His shoulders drew inward.
"I wasn't trying to."
The words came out quieter than he'd intended.
Bruno's expression changed.
Adrian looked down.
"I didn't mean to make more work for you."
Silence.
Then Bruno exhaled.
Not angrily.
Just slowly.
"Look at me."
Adrian did.
Bruno's posture had changed. The edge was gone. Not completely. Enough.
"You're not making work for me by needing help."
Adrian said nothing.
"This was avoidable. That's different."
"Oh."
"I'm not angry because you defended yourself."
Adrian watched him.
"You should defend yourself if someone is trying to hurt you."
"Okay."
"But at some point, you stopped defending yourself."
Adrian knew exactly which point.
The word.
Animal.
The decision to stay.
The punch.
Bruno continued.
"You chose to remain in a fight you didn't understand."
Adrian looked toward the ground.
"Yeah."
"That was dangerous."
"Yeah."
"Don't do it again."
Adrian almost said I won't.
He stopped himself.
That seemed like the sort of promise life enjoyed punishing.
"I'll try."
Bruno accepted that with a small nod.
For a few seconds, neither spoke.
Then Bruno looked at Adrian's hands.
"How strong are you?"
Adrian frowned.
"What?"
"How strong are you?"
"I don't know."
"How much impact can you take?"
Adrian touched his cheek.
"Apparently not much."
"Do you know that?"
"No."
"How dangerous are your claws?"
Adrian looked at his fingers.
"I don't know."
"Can you extend them deliberately?"
"I don't know."
"Can you stop them if you're frightened?"
"I don't know."
Bruno stared at him.
Adrian shifted in the chair.
"There's a pattern."
"Yes."
"Sorry."
"Don't apologize."
Bruno rubbed one hand over his muzzle.
"Of course you don't know."
That sounded less like criticism and more like realization.
Adrian waited.
Bruno looked toward the construction area. Then back at him.
"We should have established this earlier."
Adrian frowned.
"What?"
"What you can actually do."
Adrian's stomach tightened slightly.
"I told you I don't know."
"Exactly."
Bruno stood. The chair creaked in relief.
"When you arrived, it wasn't important."
Adrian looked up at him.
"You needed food. Sleep. Medical care. Somewhere with a door you could lock."
That last part caught him.
Bruno continued.
"Now it's important."
"Because I punched someone."
"Because you crossed half a street before anyone else reacted, avoided a grown man's swing without apparent effort, and then opened his arm with your fingers."
That sounded considerably worse when summarized like that.
Adrian looked at his hand again.
"So what?"
"Assessment."
The word made something cold move through him.
Bruno noticed. Not everything. Enough.
"What kind?"
"Physical first."
Adrian didn't answer.
"Strength. Speed. Coordination. Reflexes. Balance. Basic durability where it can be tested safely."
Bruno paused.
"Then arcane."
Adrian looked up.
"I don't have magic."
The answer came automatically.
Too automatically.
Bruno's eyes narrowed slightly.
Adrian heard it himself.
Certainty.
A certainty he could no longer justify.
He looked away.
"I don't think I do."
"Have you ever been assessed?"
Adrian's throat tightened.
"Maybe."
Bruno waited.
Adrian didn't elaborate.
After a moment, Bruno continued.
"Capacity. Output. Control. Affinity."
Adrian knew those words. Everyone did.
"Then they'll ask what techniques you know."
"None."
Bruno looked at him.
Adrian sighed.
"None that I know of."
"Better."
"Reinforcement?" Bruno asked.
Adrian shook his head.
"Nothing?"
"No."
"Then we'll find out there."
There.
Scanner.
Assessment.
The words dragged something behind them.
White walls.
Metal beneath his back.
Silver.
Symbols.
Black and blue spreading beneath skin.
Baseline confirmed.
Adrian's fingers tightened.
"No restraints."
Bruno went still.
Adrian swallowed.
"No injections."
Understanding arrived.
Bruno nodded.
"Neither."
"Nothing goes inside me."
"No."
"Nothing closes around me."
"No."
Adrian looked at him.
"I can stop?"
"At any point."
The square returned properly around him.
Voices.
Footsteps.
The smell of bread from behind them.
Adrian exhaled.
"Okay."
"Not today."
Adrian blinked.
"What?"
"Nessa looks at your face. You eat. You rest."
"Oh."
"Tomorrow."
Adrian wasn't sure whether that was better.
Probably.
Bruno turned as the officer approached.
The next several minutes were paperwork Adrian couldn't sign properly.
That became another problem.
The officer eventually settled for recording his temporary CSA status and routing any follow-up through Bruno's office.
He wasn't being detained.
The witness statements supported that the other man had initiated the confrontation and pursued him after Adrian first moved away.
Adrian's decision to reengage was noted.
So was the claw injury.
Accidental, according to Adrian.
Consistent with witness accounts, according to the officer.
That seemed to be enough for now.
The bandaged man didn't look at Adrian as they left.
Adrian looked at him.
Without the shouting, the bottle, and the aggression, he looked older.
Tired.
Human.
Adrian wasn't sure what to do with that.
So he did nothing.
He followed Bruno.
They walked back toward the CSA building slowly. Partly because of Adrian's ankle. Partly because neither seemed in a hurry.
After half a block, Adrian spoke.
"I really wasn't looking for a fight."
Bruno kept walking.
"I know."
Adrian glanced at him.
"Next time, leave anyway."
"Yeah."
That was probably the end of it.
Adrian hoped so.
The CSA building came into view.
Tomorrow.
Scanners.
Measurements.
Numbers.
A profile.
He'd had numbers before.
They had always been boring.
Nothing remarkable.
Nothing dangerous.
Nothing worth paying attention to.
Adrian slipped one hand into the pocket of his borrowed jacket.
Something sharp pressed briefly against the fabric.
He froze.
Relaxed his fingers.
The pressure vanished.
Bruno took another step before noticing Adrian had stopped.
"What?"
Adrian looked at his hand inside the pocket.
Then at Bruno.
"Nothing."
Tomorrow, apparently, they were going to find out what he was capable of.
For the first time in his life, Adrian wasn't sure which answer worried him more.
Nothing.
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