Re: [punching, the redux]
"You did not act like you wanted any of that, bro," Patrick said, after a long swallow of water. "You acted like you always do, man. Like you are afraid of looking like shit if you do what you want to do, so you do nothing and wallow in your own poor feelings. Feeling badly, dude, it is often something we do to ourselves, and you have made an art of it. But I have been telling you this for over a year now, man." This was blunt and direct, but Patrick was most annoyed, and it showed. "Next time you say you want to fight me, mean it, man." He suspected he sounded something like Webster, back when Webster would tell him to be a man and not hide behind Con's apron strings.
They were men. There was nothing wrong with a good brawl. Patrick (who still considered himself a pacifist) believed this wholly.
"I am talking about it now for a reason, dude, not because I want to share the experience." He picked his bag up, and he tossed it over his shoulder. He faced his brother squarely; he looked at the dude. He did not see Sue, man, he only saw Adrian, and he had not been expecting that. Though, in retrospect, perhaps it made sense that Sue was not real. He wondered if this would fuck Newt up.
"Next time? I will not pull my punches," he warned, and he clapped his bro on the shoulder. "Go home, Adrian."