Tales From Amoca/One-Shots From Hellview High!

[NSZ]

Like the one-shot thread for the Emissariesverse, here you can post one-shots for the DTaHH!verse.

[SpanishBulldog63]

The Night

“Hey Sal! Are you ready for the big game tonight?”

Sal turned from his locker to find Jason, Bomber, and Ernest walking towards him. Putting his books away and closing the locker, Sal jogged up to them and exchanged a high five with them, a huge grin on his face. “You know it! Carver City has no idea what’s coming.”

Ernest chuckled, “Besides you?”

Jason racked his brain when he heard the name Carver City before when it finally hit him, “Isn’t that the school Kara talked about during club sign-up day?”

Sal nodded, “Yup, the very one. Bastards think that just because their record is tied with ours in the league that they can stomp us. Apparently they forgot what happened last year.”

“What happened last year? I know you guys won in overtime by a thread and a tackle, but what else happened?”

Bomber listed off before Sal could stop him “12 sacks to break the single game record, 2 interceptions and 2 fumble recoveries, one of each that got returned for a touchdown while the other didn’t get stopped until he was in the red-zone, 5 forced fumbles, 3 safeties, and 18 tackles with half of them for a loss of yardage.”

“Dude it was a career day, but you know how I feel about bragging.”

Jason’s jaw dropped, “Holy shit, you did all of that and yet they still pushed the game that far?”

“Well it’s like Kara said, our QB went down in the 2nd half with a broken collarbone and rib, and our secondary was fighting a rash of injuries the whole season. The cornerbacks got their asses chewed out bad afterwards.”

“I bet. Think it’ll be a better game this time around?” Jason asked as their group walked down the hall.

“Definitely! We’ve come up with a couple of new formations on defense that’ll stump the hell out of the offense and their coaches.”

“That sounds awesome Sal!” a cheery voice from behind them piped up and made them jump,” I can’t wait to see it tonight!”

Sal smiled, “Hey Kara.”

Ernest, on the other hand, let out a high-pitched scream, “AAAAH! Get away, GET AWAY!”

Ciara and Petra walked up from behind Kara. “Is he still traumatized by her turning him into a walking Jackson Pollock painting?” Ciara asked.

“You’re damn right I am! It was like a rainbow puked chunks on me at Mach speed!” Ernest wailed.

Bomber smacked him across the back of his head, “Hey, you didn’t have to wear a safety cone over your head for the better part of the day, so it wasn’t too bad, Ernest.”

“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, Bomber,” Petra growled. “That paint bomb you hit me with didn’t get out so easy. I will get you back for that one.”

As Bomber gulped and not so subtly hid behind him, Jason took advantage of the moment, “Y’know Sal, I’m still trying figure out how you and Kara both wound up with pink paint from the chest up…what’s the story behind that?”

The two in question blushed furiously and in unison said, almost too quickly, “Paint grenade malfunction!”

Everyone minus them laughed until Sal changed the subject for their sake, “So since you’re all here, are you guys going to the game tonight?”

With the obvious exception of Kara, Bomber, and Ernest, there was an air of unease among his fellow club members. “Oh come on guys, it’s Homecoming! You gotta break out of that comfort zone sometime…and it’d be nice if I had some friends in my corner tonight for support. I mean, it’s not like the folks back home would be keen on coming here anyway.”

“Sal,” Ciara shook her head, “You said it yourself on our way to the paintball game: I’m not a very social person, and really couldn’t give two shits about what goes on around campus. Petra’s shy as hell/borderline statue around people she’s not familiar with, I don’t know about Jason, and I’m pretty sure we couldn’t afford tickets right now if we wanted to.”

Sal tapped his chin in contemplation when an idea hit him, “I can handle the tickets if you need me to. The guy in charge of the admissions is a friend of mine after I helped them out of a bad situation last year.”

Jason was stunned by the act of generosity, though he would probably save the question of what Sal did for another time, “Dude, you don’t have to do that. I could cover maybe one other person’s ticket if I need to depending on how much tickets are.” Ciara practically broke her neck turning to look at him as he continued, ”I just hope people aren’t as crazy as they were back home; my family were Packers fans living a few miles away from the Cardinals’ stadium…I don’t think I need to say anything about how the playoff games were at home.”

Sal laughed, “Jay, I’m an Oakland Raiders fan; you think California was any better with the Chargers, Rams, and 49ers all in the same state as them? Or do the Bay Area Riots after the Raiders basically stole Super Bowl 90 from the Niners in ’56 not ring a bell?”

“Point taken, but still…” Jason thought about it, really not thinking much of anything to do after school to begin with. “Ah, what the hell; you know what, I think I’ll go. He’s right, we all could use some fresh air for once instead of staying cooped up in our rooms.”

Ciara simply gawked at him, unsure about being so out in the open with so many people yet sure if only because she’d be going with Jason and their friends… ‘Wait, why did I separate him from the others?’ “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to go.”

As the others decided to go with, Sal had a huge smile on his face, “Splendid! I’ll give the guy a call to put six tickets on hold for you all!”

[Later that night]

The junior varsity game between the Hellview High Hammerbeaks and the Carver City Raiders’ junior varsity teams had just finished. It was a close game at 28-28 until the halfback of Hellview’s squad broke free between the right guard and tackle for a 20-yard touchdown run. Jason had never really been to a football game, so for him to be in a stadium full of people was both exciting and strange to him. He could only imagine how taxing it was on the others’ comfort zones.

Down below, Sal and the rest of his teammates were running through their warm-up drills. Jason was somewhat surprised to find his short friend working with the offensive and defensive linemen; he stuck out like a sore thumb when one notices just how much bigger his cohorts were than him. It was odd up until a blocking drill in which Sal uprooted and flattened the player trying to rush past him to their coach, who was serving as the quarterback in the drills. When it came to his turn to pass rush, Sal charged like a bull on the warpath and pushed his teammates almost into the coach’s lap. Not too long afterward, both teams gathered to their places off the field for what Jason assumed were pregame rituals.

After the Carver City team hit the field, a guitar riff tore through the air followed by what could only be described as war drums in a rhythm until the lyrics cued the varsity Hellview High Hammerbeaks to hit the field through the fog setup. According to Bomber, it was a song by the old metal band Disturbed called “The Night.” The announcer called them all out as they ran out, until finally booming “Led by team captain, #63, ‘The Silverback,’ Sal Gutierrez!”

As he appeared through the fog, the normally relaxed Sal was jumping around in hyperactivity and did what could almost be described as a war dance. Jason recognized it as the same one he’d seen on TV done by Ray Lewis of Baltimore lore as Sal dipped from side to side, drummed his feet then kicked out with arms once crossed now thrown back with a primal shout. Following the coin flip, which Sal and the co-captains deferred to the Raiders, the Hammerbeaks were getting the ball. The kick returner didn’t get far when the Raiders gunner stripped the ball away and ran it back for a touchdown.

“EDDIE YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” Sal yelled as Carver City’s kickoff unit celebrated..

[Several plays and scores later]

“Saw 32 Bon 76 Pinch Cover 1, Saw 32 Bon 76 Pinch Cover 1!” the middle linebacker Ben called in the huddle before it broke and everyone took their position. When the offense broke their huddle, he listened for the strong side call so he knew which A-gap to rush. Sal lined up across the Center, all 6'8" and 350 pounds of Carver City Raider, and examined the line. Feet flat, hands in the dirt pointing left. He ran the situation through his head, 'Two tight end set, Ace formation Twins left...either going for a Halfback Screen or basic run to the left, maybe counter right.'

The two tight ends then motioned to line up in the backfield...'Full House? Let's break it!'

"Clover! Clover! Clover!" He called out, spinning a forearm to the left then to the right to motion for the Bear 50 blitz call. Ben, the middle linebacker joined the front across the right guard and DJ the interior right-side linebacker on the left.

"Green 11-11, Green 11-11! Down, set, go!"

The second the ball was snapped, Sal got his hands under the center's chest pad and heaved his enormous form down into the backfield. The two tight ends crashed into Sal to slow him down, but now the whole middle was clogged and Sal shed them off, one of them getting the center tossed in his lap, to nail the poor, scared-to-death Halfback. With an echoing CRACK, Sal, Ben, and DJ crushed him for a loss of 6 yards. That's when Sal caught a foul odor in the air, and looked at the petrified ball carrier.

He roared with laughter, "I think he just shit himself!"

Back in the stands, the rest of the Paranormal Research Club was in an odd mix of cheering and cringing after the play. Jason could practically feel the tackle from his seat in the stands, Bomber and Ernest whooped wildly with food in hand, and Ciara, to the surprise of the others, joined in with the cheering if only because someone got hurt…again. And then there was Kara, jumping into the air with her sign and chanting with more enthusiasm than Jason ever thought was humanly possible.

“~Bring the pain, Sal! Bring the pain!~”

STOMP STOMP

“~Bring the pain, Sal! Bring the pain!~”

STOMP STOMP

Jason looked at her in amusement, “Uh, Kara? I don’t think that’s how it goes.”

“Of course it does! Why, is it different in the U.S.?”

“Not entirely, but usually it’s ‘Here we go’ instead of ‘Bring the pain’.”

“That’s boring. Ya gotta have more flavor to a cheer, Jason!” she stated before hearing the crowd’s reaction to the next play and catching the end of it. “WOOOOOO! ANOTHER SACK FOR SAL!”

Jason looked at the big screen mounted next to the scoreboard and sure enough, there was his friend “Silverback” Sal tearing through a double team of giants to fold the Carver City quarterback like a lawn chair. Even as he cringed he had to admit, it was actually kind of fun getting out with the others to watch the game. Ciara, however, still looked a bit stiff despite her cheers at others’ dismay. That’s when he noticed she was eyeing another girl’s burger with ravenous envy, and had an idea.

“Hey Ciara, I’m going to make a quick run to the food stand. You want anything to eat?” he asked.

Ciara looked up at him, initially wanting to decline but relented. “Sure, I’ll have what she’s having,” she said hungrily and pointing a thumb towards the girl in front of her.

“Alright, I’ll be right back. Oh, and don’t worry about paying me back either, I got you,” Jason smiled.

“Oy, bring us some more popcorn too!” Bomber called out before Jason got out of earshot.

“Fine, but you two will be paying me back!” And with that, he disappeared into the sea of people towards the food stand.

Ciara’s small smile faded as he fell out of sight. She hoped he didn’t run into trouble down there, or Sol help them another girl. ‘Wait no!’ her mind screamed as she mentally shook her head of the thought, ‘I’m his bodyguard and that’s it! I shouldn’t be having thoughts like that!’ Besides, it’s not like her mom’s little picture caught anything meaningful…did it? Then again, she’d confided to him things that only her family knew, and the one memory that made it hard for her to sleep at night. Curiously, the night she divulged this secret to him and they slept on the couch together was probably the best night of sleep she’d had since before the incident…but why? Was it because she’d finally let it out to someone, or because she let it out to him?

A small hand on her shoulder brought her out of it, “Hey Ciara, are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m…just thinking about something, Kara.”

“Wanna talk about it later when we get to the room?”

Ciara sighed and smiled, “Sure.”

Down on the field, Sal called the next play for 3rd and 20 on the 50 yard line, “Max Sting Cover 3, Max Sting Cover 3!”

As everyone took their places from the huddle, Sal couldn’t help but grin; if Carver City thought they were being humiliated before, then they had no idea what was coming next. Sal took a three-point stance when he heard Ben call out the Empty backfield and DJ call strong right. ‘For the love of all that is winning, don’t get beat Eddie!’

“Blue 48! Blue 48! Hut, hut, hut!”

Sal ran backwards into zone coverage as Ben took his place to take on the double teaming left guard and center. Eddie and Marcos backpedaled into the deep zones alongside Anthony, and DJ and Dom joined Sal in the middle zones while Ben and the remaining four rushed the line. Sal watched the slot receiver coming across the middle on the drag route, immediately watching the QB’s eyes.

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

Sal broke from coverage and jumped in front of the receiver as soon as the ball began its release, “Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine-“

He saw the whites of the receiver’s eyes, heard the echoing cheers of Hellview High’s crowd, but only one voice broke through the noise to make him smile as he completed the catch with a final “Mine!” and barked “Go, go, go, go!”

“There he goes!” Kara squealed, “Run Sal, run! Take it to the house!”

There were only six men to beat as he weaved around the right side and sped down the field. His teammates chewed up the offensive players in front of him, leaving only the quarterback to beat. When the left tackle broke free to tackle Sal, Carver City’s fans could only watch in horror as Sal not only trucked through him, but carried him down the field for the next forty-three yards in a show of pure power to the end-zone for the touchdown.

“He’s going to the 15, 10, 5…” Kara was on the verge of screaming until finally, “TOUCHDOWN HAMMERBEAKS!” The Hellview bleachers erupted in cheer alongside her, and even the sky seemed to celebrate, booming with thunder as Sal spiked the ball and roared “At least makes it a challenge for me!”

“Holy shit,” Jason piped up from behind everyone, making them jump “remind me to never get on Sal’s bad side.”

As the scoreboard changed to 35-7,Ciara caught sight of the large burger in his hand, almost hidden by his food and the bags of popcorn Bomber and Ernest wanted, and felt a bit of drool seeping through her grin. But what she didn’t expect after he gave everyone their food, what no one who would be paying attention would expect, happened just as he was handing her the fully loaded burger.

“Here ya go. I didn’t know what all you wanted in it, so I had them load it up and make it a double. Hold on, you got something right-“he wiped the drool off of her face with a napkin, “there.”

As it suddenly dawned on them what he just did, he and Ciara both turned beet red, practically steaming in the cool and cloudy weather. Subconsciously or not, Jason couldn’t help but feel…’huh, so that’s what those butterflies feel like?’ But the prevailing thought in both of their minds still rang louder:

‘Did she just let me do that?’

‘Did I just let him do that?’

The two remained frozen, gazing at one another as if they were looking at each other for the first time. The sounds of fans cheering and the buzzer going off to end the 1st half fell on deaf ears at that moment. Jason’s breath hitched as he saw her hand moving towards him, expecting to be swat for his good deed. That’s when she stopped just inches away from him, and Jason could see conflict in her eyes… that’s when it hit him that she was reaching to see, as if he and this whole situation were a mirage. As if instinctively, he mimicked her and put his hand up to meet hers and their fingers almost interlocked. The contact shocked them like a battery; Ciara quickly brought her hand back and Jason snapped back to reality.

“Ciara, I-I don’t know what came over me. I wasn’t thinking…I-“ he stammered, trying to apologize until she cut him off, “It’s ok Jason.”

“But-“

“Jason, you don’t need to apologize. It’s actually…it’s actually…damn, I forgot where I was going with this!”

Jason laughed a bit, “I’m thinking it might have been something along the lines of it being nice feeling a different emotion from angry and sarcastic?” He noted her eyes narrowing and quickly added, “Just spit balling here.”

Jason looked back down on the field after the Homecoming halftime show and noticed something was a little different on the kickoff team, “Hey guys, was Sal on special teams before?”

Everyone followed his finger down to the field and sure enough, there was number 63 three spots away from the left gunner position and practically chomping at the bit for another tackle. The kick came, and the Hammerbeaks were off to execute their plan of keeping the Raiders pinned down within 10 yards of their own end zone. The kick returner made it to the 2-yard line before his wedge of blockers exploded and a red-and-black cannonball not only leveled him and sent his helmet, facemask, and mouthguard in separate directions, but knocked the ball out of his hands.

“FUMBLE!” Sal bellowed as he leaped and before he knew it he was on the bottom of the dogpile. The stadium grew quiet, not even the winds dared go above a whisper while the referees sorted out the mess down on the field. Everyone in the stands, even Ciara, was on the edge of their seats. When it was all said and done, it was Hellview’s ball...and Sal was the one to recover it, holding it high above his head in triumph.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” Kara looked like she was about to jackhammer through her seat. That is, until a set of voices were heard from behind their group.

“Can you believe it? Lecter has an actual fan!” one sneered.

“I just pray she doesn’t get eaten too,” another said and then scoffed “though I get the feeling she’d like that.”

Kara had turned an inhuman red, from embarrassment or anger Jason couldn’t tell, but he’d heard enough. He turned around, not caring who it was that was running their mouth. That was his friend they were talking about, and he’d had about enough of these stories and rumors in every twist and turn on campus.

“Hey, unless you have the whole story, don’t run your fucking mouth.”

Seated behind the group were a pair of boys, the larger of the two having orange hair and grey eyes while his smaller friend had red hair and blue eyes. The two of them looked at each other, looked back at the club and laughed, with the big one saying “Would you get a load of this, Hobbes? Little psycho actually has friends!”

“Who’d have thought it, Calvin?”

Bomber stood up in front of a growling Petra, “Yeah he does, want to make something of it?”

“He’s probably just jealous that he’s not down there instead and getting girls’ attention,”Ciara turned around and snipped.

“Stay out of this, bitch, it doesn’t concern you!” Calvin snarled, oblivious to the drop in temperature.

“I’m sorry, maybe I didn’t hear you correctly,” Jason’s blood began to boil as he fumed, “You called her what? Apologize to her, now!”

Hobbes looked at Ciara and Kara quickly and paled, “Dude we should stop, and by we I mean you! Do you realize whose daughter that is...whose nieces they are!”

“I don’t give a shit who that bitch is-”

THWACK

Jason pounced and landed punch after punch on Calvin’s face. Hobbes made as if he was going to interfere but Bomber simply stood in front of him and shook his head. Jason landed one more punch with a sickening crunch, blood spraying from Calvin’s now broken nose. He probably would have kept going too, were it not for the sound of footsteps and someone clearing their throat.

“What is going on here?” Mr. Earl asked, looking back and forth between the clashing teens and his stunned nieces, “Well?”

Jason pointed at the downed teen with his blood-covered free hand while the other had him by the collar, “This wheezing bag of dicktits called Ciara a bitch, wouldn’t apologize, then called her a bitch again.”

“Really? Is this true, Mr. Calvin? Mr. Hobbes?”

Calvin sputtered “Y-y-yes!”

“I see…” Mr. Earl looked at Jason, “Carry on, then.”

And with that, he walked away. Calvin stared wide-eyed in shock “What?”

“You heard him.”

THWACK

“Alright, alright!” he coughed, “I’m s-s-sorry!”

“Don’t say it to me! Say it to Ciara and Kara! And if I ever find out that you’re still running your mouth...well, I hear Sal’s looking for a new sparring partner.”

After they apologized and quickly ran away, Jason sat back down and watched the game as if nothing had happened. Everyone exchanged glances with one another until Ernest pointed out to him, “I know you’re probably still feeling a bit of an adrenaline rush, but uh, you’ve got blood all over your hands.”

Jason looked down at his hands, “Oh shit, you’re right,” a few seconds passed before it dawned on him and his eyes widened, “OH SHIT, YOU’RE RIGHT!”

On cue, Ciara grabbed a bottle of water and poured it over his hands as he washed the blood off. She couldn’t help but chuckle at him “Y’know, I’m supposed to be protecting you, not the other way around.”

“Yeah, well I figure it’s only fair to have your back since you’ve got mine...you ok? You’re looking a little red.”

Meanwhile on the field, Sal and the two defensive ends joined the rest of the offense for the goal line package they fittingly called the “Monster” set. The formation was two tight ends and a full house backfield, with two defensive ends at the fullback spots, and a powerhouse player in at halfback.

“Fire 55 Dive on Go, Fire 55 Dive on Go. Ready? Break!” To anyone else this would’ve just sounded like nonsense, but to them it meant one thing: Thunderball. Sal cracked a toothy grin because this play was made with him in mind. It was 1st and goal on the Carver City 2-yard line, and the crowd was roaring for the next play.

“Fire 55, Fire 55!” the quarterback called, “Down, set, go!”

The fullbacks crashed into the A-gaps as Sal took the handoff not too far behind them and followed the right fullback as he blocked the mike linebacker. ‘C’mon Gonzalez, keep the path clear just a little more!’

First yard gained and Sal shrugged off their free safety and strongside linebacker, who was immediately blasted with a block by the right guard. He was almost to the goal line when the few unblocked Raiders swarmed on him to try and bring him down. He felt his momentum slow until a wall of black-and-red uniforms pushed the pile-up to the ground. For what felt like eternity, Sal heard only silence until finally-

“TOUCHDOWN HAMMERBEAKS!” the commentators boomed over the microphones.

The Hellview stands erupted in cheer while their rivals booed and sulked. When the players were separated, Sal held the ball high in celebration with his teammates before pointing it to the crowd. Not just any spot in the crowd, however…

“Hey Kara, you ok?”

“Uh...y-yeah,” Kara’s heart fluttered “I’m just…”

She fainted and slumped against her cousin, who grumbled, “Peachy...Jesus, Sal, a little warning that you’re gonna do that next time would be great!”

Petra and Bomber continued snacking on the large box of popcorn sitting on Bomber’s lap when Petra stopped mid-chew while grabbing another handful, “Bomber, did they put something in the popcorn? Like those Cracker Jack boxes back in the states?”

“No,” Bomber replied, his face stiff with surprise, “but I know what you’re grabbing.”

“What?”

“My hand.”

“Oh! Oh my god, I’m sorry Bomber!”

“It’s all -good lord, man! Hey ref, where’s the fucking flag?!”

Jason was too busy snickering at Ciara’s predicament to notice what happened on the field, “What did I miss? Too busy laughing at Ciara.”

Ciara glared at him, “Go fuck yourself.”

“Well, looks like someone tried playing it cheap and blindsided Sal after the play. I couldn’t hear the name through the crowd noise, but it sounds like it was Sal’s rival...little bastard.”

Petra followed Bomber’s finger down to the field, “Little? He’s taller than I am!”

“Imagine how Sal sees it. Almost everyone he goes up against is bigger than he is,” Ernest said with a mouthful of food. The player in question spread his arms in mockery to the Hellview crowd despite the late flag that was thrown, and bellowed “Are you not entertained?”

“Is it bad I want to see Sal rip him in half?” Ciara asked. “I know Kara’s petition is going strong for the rematch, and if that’s still going, I can bet on us getting dragged to that event too.”

Jason smiled, “It sounds like it would be fun to watch.”

After another score and several series of ineffective offense from the Hammerbeaks, and another seven sacks from Sal to disrupt the Raiders, the buzzer went off to end the 3rd quarter with Hellview expanding their lead 49-7. The Raiders had the ball, 2nd and 10 at their 45 yard line.

“Toro Sum 24 Will 1 Nose Spy! Toro Sum 24 Will 1 Nose Spy! Ready? Break!”

The Bandit and Nickel rovers, linebacker/defensive back hybrids, lined up in the defensive backfield as free safeties, the “horns” of the Toro formation. Sal’s assignment on the play was to spy on the quarterback, in other words mirror his movements so if thequarterback rolls left, he rolls left. If the quarterback runs with the ball, he follows.

“Gold 95! Gold 95!-”

“Falcon! Falcon! Falcon!” The center barked to adjust the blocking scheme.

‘Wait...I remember this play!’

“GATTACA hut!”

‘Yeah, nice try on the hard count, cockbite.’ The right guard and tackle double-teamed Gonzalez as the quarterback faked the handoff to both the halfback and fullback who tried to block the blitz. Sal kept parallel to him and never let him out of his sight, so when the Raider tucked the ball and started to run, Sal ran to stop him from getting the first down.

“You think you’re getting past me? BRING IT HAPPY FEET!” he roared

“Shit shit shit shit shit shit-” and in a moment of either bravery or stupidity, Carver City’s quarterback attempted to hurdle over the shorter defender...and would immediately regret it when Sal grabbed him by the chest plate. To add insult to injury, he was in front of his own sideline.

“Come here!” Sal brought him back down to earth three yards from the line of scrimmage with a powerful slam, then looked at the Carver City head coach and laughed, “C’mon coach, I saw this play two years ago!”

The fourth quarter came and went, ending with several more Hellview touchdowns and Carver City’s only other score from a lucky field goal. By the final whistle, the scoreboard read 80-10, and the visiting Raiders were silenced. Hellview, however, was beyond thrilled as this win clinched them the first round bye in the playoffs.

At the end of the game, friends and loved ones made their way down to the field to join the players. Naturally, a few fights broke out, but they were quickly separated by security before they got out of hand. When the papers, and everyone else, got their pictures, the Paranormal Research Club finally got to Sal. He’d barely taken off his gear and under armor when they made it through the sea of people to him.

Jason and Bomber high fived him. “Did you even have to try outdoing yourself from last year’s game? Holy shit, I think there’s enough salt from Carver City to make the Dead Sea 2.0,” Bomber laughed.

“14 sacks, 5 safeties, and whatever other stats we’ll see in the school paper. I’d say it was a good day, eh?”

“Uh Kara?” Sal asked, turning when he felt eyes drilling into his being.

“Yeah?”

“Your nose is bleeding.”

“Sal!” Ciara snapped as she handed Kara a napkin, “Put your shirt back on!”

“I will after I hit the showers, chill.” Sal turned to Jason, “So, what happened up in the stands Jay?”

“Oh nothing, just an argument.”

Sal raised an eyebrow at him, “Right, the kinda argument where your knuckles are swollen and scratched by teeth and the other guy runs down the bleachers with a mask of his own blood?”

“How did you-”

“I saw while we were in the huddle. Not bad for a scrawny little spitfuck, you got a bit of wiry strength to ya I’ll give you that. Better hope none of the wrestling and fighting coaches caught it, they might try to recruit you. What caused it anyway?”

An air of unease caught the group before Ernest, lost in the crowd, caught up to them and blurted, “Are you guys telling him about how Jason beat up that Calvin guy for calling Ciara a bitch and Kara wanting to get-MMPH!”

Sal stared at everyone who had covered Ernest’s mouth quizzically, then looked to the only one not in the mix- Kara. The look on her face said a lot, if she would actually look up and back at him. The athlete snapped his fingers at the others to stop their commotion and asked Jason “What did they say?”

“Before he started talking about you, he targeted Kara when she cheered for your fumble recovery in the 2nd quarter. He said it’d be shame if she got eaten, but -”

“That I’d probably enjoy it too,” Kara spoke up, turning noticeably red in the face, “Then he called Ciara a bitch and Jason beat him up.”

Sal went red in the face but while his face said embarrassed, his eyes screamed murder. “Well, this is a feeling I haven’t felt in a while…”

“What’s that?” Jason asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“Pride in someone else…” Sal looked to his left and saw Calvin and Hobbs walking amongst the crowd, and if Jason didn’t know any better Sal’s eyes had just turned from their usual brown to a vicious red, “Unfortunately it’s overshadowed by all of this UNYIELDING RAGE!”

Calvin immediately stopped walking and turned in the direction of the shout, only to immediately sprint for the nearest source of safety when he spotted who shouted- one of the porta-potties at the other end of the stadium. Sal stomped towards the porta-potties, with the rest of the club in tow.

“Sal, what are you going to do?” Ciara asked.

A crack of his knuckles, “I’m just gonna go talk to him.”

“Sal?” Ernest asked next.

“I’m just gonna go talk to him.”

“Dude!” Jason called out.

Sal clenched his fists. “I’m just gonna go throttle him!”

Just as he was about to sprint through the crowd, a hand caught him by the elbow and the touch rooted him in place. “Sal, please don’t do it. I know you want to punish him for being rude to us all-

‘Kara, the rest of them are only half of the reason. If you only knew…’

“But he’s not worth it. He’s not worth adding that extra fuel to the fire so please, for me, don’t get yourself in trouble over me.”

Sal opened his mouth to speak, but the look in her eyes, the pain inside of them, reminded him of what Ciara had told him about Jimmy Denim. ‘Some idol you turned out to be,Jim’ Sal thought in disgust. Easing himself, he relented “Alright, I won’t do it. But I’m still going to make sure his night is plenty more miserable.”

As he walked away, everyone wondered what he planned to do until they saw him get behind the occupied portable.

Jason’s eyes went wide as Bomber and Petra both gawked, “Oh shit…”

With little effort, Sal pushed the porta-potty down door-first, then tipped it forward before dropping it back down. To everyone’s delight, they could hear Calvin inside screaming as the contents surely washed all over him. Sal flagged his teammate Ben over and the two of them stacked the other two portables on top of it. After Sal thanked him for the act while he left, he flashed a thumbs-up to the howling club.

Sal knelt down by the air holes and growled, “Normally, I’d have taken you apart but for now,” he emphasized those last two words, “this will suffice. The only reason why I’m not doing so is out of respect for a certain girl’s wishes, and you know who I’m talking about. What a shame, your mother tried to raise a high-class boy but so miserably failed. Do you think she’s rolling in her grave right now at how you talked to Ciara...to Kara? Or are the sins of the father that ingrained in your DNA? Perhaps you’re walking that fine line of footsteps to your own self-destruction, just like they did.”

Everyone's jaws dropped at the display; it was one thing to have seen Sal angry, but another to see him turn so cold and venomous as he was now. Calvin was heard bawling from inside like a giant baby when Sal walked away, “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m famished. Who’s down for a party to celebrate? There’s a new pizza joint downtown we can go to.”

Jason continued to just stare, “Uh, sure?”

“Dude all I did was scare him and get in his head. I’m not having his liver with fava beans and Chianti, fucking hell.”

“Alright, alright! Just one question: when was the last time you felt pride in someone else?”

Sal rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish grin, “My brother beating the shit out of someone who tried to jump him after school...with a 2x4.”

As the statement sank in with everybody, Bomber quipped “Dude, you and your brother are some cold motherfuckers.”

“Frosty.”

After Sal returned from the locker room, an older man ran up to them on their way out and asked Jason, "Excuse me, are you the young man who was fighting in the stands earlier?”

“It was hardly a fight, but yes...I’m in trouble aren’t I?”

The man laughed, the light reflecting off his glasses “On the contrary. How would you like to join the wrestling and fighting teams?”

Sal started to chuckle, “Somebody better pick up that phone, because I fucking called it!”
____________________________________________________________________________

At the end of the night, everyone had gone back to their rooms, the guys all crashing in their rooms, and the girls heading to theirs. Bomber suggested a movie night when they got back on campus, starting with his personal favorite The Godfather, since it starred his favorite actor Marlon Brando. But after a brief discussion about it, the group decided to save it for the weekend.

In their room, Ciara stared out the window for what seemed like hours at the night sky. She didn’t expect to have as fun a time as she did, but it started raising questions that she never expected to ask herself. Has she really been missing out on fun until now? Did she really like Jason? Did he like her back? How would he look in a singlet?

“Wait, why am I asking myself this?”

“Better question is, why are you talking to yourself?” Kara asked. “Does it have something to do with what you wanted to talk about?”

‘No point in trying to dodge it, she was right there...hopefully paying attention to the game and not Jason and I,’ she sighed. “Kara...how would you deal with feelings you’ve never had before?”

Kara raised an eyebrow, “What kinda feelings?”

“You’re reeeally making me explain?” Ciara groaned, “Fine...say you’ve gotten to know someone for a while, and in that while you’ve grown to like them as a friend. But after a while, you start to like them as maybe more than just a friend.”

Kara blinked a few times, then grew a cheshire cat-like grin and narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Needless to say, she was freaking out her cousin. “Is this friend someone we know? More specifically, is this friend someone you’re guarding and aunt Amy got an adorable picture of?”

“God dammit Mom! And yes, it’s Jason! Are you happy now?!”

“Ciara and Jason sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N- OW!” Ciara whacked her with a pillow, her face tomato red.

“DON’T MAKE ME TELL SAL ABOUT MS. FANGIRL’S GIANT CRUSH LETTER!”

Kara paled, “You wouldn’t dare!”

It was Ciara’s turn to grin, “Oh, I would.”

Kara, desperate to change the subject, asked Ciara “So, you think Jason will say yes to joining the wrestling and fighting teams with Sal?”

“I don’t know, but I know Sal said he’d help coach him himself if he decides to join. We’ll just have to see because I’m sure the others would like to go, and I think it’d help Jay focus that wild side we saw in the stands. It would be interesting to see him on the mat, though.” The thought of Jason in a singlet occurred once more, this time bringing a drop of blood from her nose, much to her annoyance at her cousin’s humor.

“Is someone thinking lewdly? I think so-OW” she rubbed her head where Ciara smacked her.

“You are the last one to say anything about bloody noses after the leak you sprung after the game!”

“Fine I’ll stop teasing you!” a light bulb flicked on inside her head, “Hey, didn’t you say that if you ever got to be the sociable type that I, and I quote, ‘had your permission to kill you?’”

“Yeah, why- oh. Ooooh…”

“Time to cash in,” Kara smiled menacingly as she grabbed her own pillow.

“Shit.”

SMACK

[SpanishBulldog63]

Invincible

It had been less than a week since the end of the football season, and the Hammerbeaks took the Amocan championship once again with Sal named league MVP and breaking his own records...again. Coach Wade “The Shade” Wilson was quick to beg Sal to bring their new prospect in to practice before the season started and get him into top fighting shape. Sal had warned Jason to be up at an early time for the warm-up, and if he wasn’t up then Sal was going to flip the mattress over. He won’t be nice about it either; he didn’t get the greatest night of sleep, if any at all. It was 5:30 in the morning, and as he neared his friend’s room, he caught sight of a certain young woman shaking her head outside of his door.

“What brings you here this time of day?”

Ciara pointed sluggishly to the door with her thumb, “Someone wants protection from his trainer, apparently.”

Sal blinked at this, “Seriously?”

“Seriously. If you want my opinion, go right on ahead because I should not be up this fucking early ever. I already told him I’m not a morning person, you’d think he’d remember that.”

“Yeah, no offense but you look like hell rolled over. Go ahead and head back.”

A twitch hit her eye, but she knew he was right, “None taken. Thanks Sal.” Just as she left she could hear clicks and clanks on Jason’s door, turning to see Sal picking the lock. “Since when could you-”

“A long time. Useful for pranks or, in cases like this, lazy asses and scaredy cats of training.”

When he got the lock, the first thing to greet him was snoring that could rival a hog. Without wasting any time, he grabbed the mattress and snapped it like a giant towel. To his amusement, Jason went soaring face-first into the wall and comically slid to the floor. Sal laughed to the verge of tears while Jason stumbled to his feet, “What the actual fuck, man!”

“It’s 5:31, Jay. We’re behind schedule.”

“By a minute!”

“Don’t matter. Every second counts, rookie, and you gon’ learn today. Now c’mon, time to make some breakfast and go train.”

Jason continued to rub the sleep out of his eyes, opening the fridge and mini-cabinet for milk and cereal until his friend grabbed his hands, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Making breakfast, you nut!”

The champion tisked and shook his head, grabbing two glasses and some eggs, to Jason’s disbelief and humor, “You have gotta be shitting me…”

“If you’re gonna have breakfast and train, at least do it right dude.”

Both glasses were filled to the brim with raw eggs, three eggs a piece, and Sal immediately chugged his like it was water.

“Alright, your turn.”

“Jesus, alright Rocky Salboa.”

Sal stared at him flatly, “...How original. Now drink.”

After watching Jason struggle to keep his eggs down, the two of them set off for a run that seemed to last for hours. To Jason’s horror, that’s because it did; they left at 5:35 and didn’t reach their destination, a gym in the city that Sal frequented, until about 7:50. Sal was no worse for wear, but Jason collapsed gasping for air. He felt like his blood was pumping acid, and his lungs were forcing out smoke.

“Please tell me we’re not doing that again?” he wheezed.

Sal laughed heartily, “Are you tired Jay? That was just the warm up!”

Jason’s eyes shot open. “THAT WAS THE WARM UP?”

“Yup, now let’s get stretched out so we can get you ready for the first match of the season. Coach Wilson needs a new lightweight since Mckenzie pussed out like a bitch. How much do you weigh again? Actually, hold that thought, I’ll grab the scale.”

Stepping on the scale in just his drawers for maximum lack of excess weight, Jason came out to 140.7. “Not bad. Now get dressed back up and we can begin. Alright Jay, first thing we're going to work on today is how to dodge."

Jason felt cocky, “That shouldn't be too-” then he ate a snap kick that sent him sprawling to the ground “OW, FUCK!”

“DOOOOOODGE!”

Jason wobbled to his feet, “W-what just-”

“DODGE!!” Sal connected with an overhand right that put Jason to sleep.

“God dammit,” Sal grabbed a bucket of water and dumped it over Jason, “Wake up princess! You sleep when you’re dead!”

“AHHH THAT’S FUCKING COLD!” his trainee yelped, “Fine, what’s next?”

“We’re going to work on striking. Now, show me how you punch.”

“Dude, I always got into fights back in Arizona, I think I know how to punch.”

“Ok rookie, show me” Sal challenged, holding his hands up.

Jason connected with a jab to Sal’s left palm, and the latter only shook his head “Terrible.”

“Think you can do better?”

Sal raised an eyebrow. “Did you forget who’s training you, numbnuts?

“....Point taken.”

“Good, now my turn.”

Jason held up his hands now, but to his chagrin Sal shot a straight right hand directly into his solar plexus. Jason coughed and wheezed for air, as Sal joked, “That’s how you punch.”

Jason wheezed “Were you going for the hand?”

“There’s a hand on your shirt?” Jason scowled at him. “But nevermind that, let’s take your striking to the bags because, currently, your hands are two freshly laid shits that need to be flushed.”

“Hey!”

“Dude, that is the nicest thing you’d ever hear between myself or the coach. You ever see Attack on Titan abridged by Teamfourstar? Think Commander Shadis but worse.”

“Well, on the bright side, you’re just talking about my punching-”

“On the not-so-bright side, we still have to go over kicks, knees, guard variations, and grappling. And those last two are all with yours truly.”

Jason paled and gulped, “…Is it too late to write a will?”

“Yup,” Sal laughed as they approached the thick punching bag. He eyed the smaller speed bags, floor-to-ceiling balls, and other types of striking equipment, but he could see Sal wanted to work on him from the ground up. And with time to spare before the season started, why wouldn’t he?

Sal rummaged through the supply closet and pulled out a pair of brand new fighting gloves. “Alright, these gloves should fit you. Now, we’re gonna start with jabs until I feel we can move into punches, ok?”

Jason nodded, getting into a stance and letting a left jab fly.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“1-2, and move that head.” Sal said, holding the bag and watching his protege.

Ta-tap.

“Move that head.”

Ta-tap.

“Move that head.”

Ta-tap. Sal’s brows furrowed when his head still held still.

“Move that head, and you’ll see that denizen flanking Ciara.”

Jason moved his head quickly on the jab and followed up with a right cross, staring at Sal. “WHY?!”

“Because I’m still mad at you for picking Jet Li over Bruce Lee. Besides, it made you move, didn’t it? That little ‘oomph’ you just got? I want you to continue to use that as motivation for training. Not Ciara, the denizen.”

Jay blinked, “Wait, why not Ciara?”

“Because women weaken legs...now put your wife on hold, we have a season of violence to train for!”

“Motherfu-”

Sal swung the punching bag at him, shouting “DODGE”

SPLAT- CRASH

From the pile of equipment, Sal could hear a faint, painful “Why?!”

“Damn, do I have my work cut out for me…” Sal sighed. “Let me reset the bag and let’s start again.”

--------

For the next week, Sal put him through a series of exercises ranging from long-distance running at a consistent pace for cardio, bag exercises to work new techniques and find Jason’s sense of rhythm, to going to a nearby chicken farm for Jason to try and catch chickens to increase his speed. Jason had been doing jump rope exercises for 10 minutes straight now when he heard the bell signal that he was done. Just as he began to catch his breath, Sal looked up from his phone, a poorly hidden smile now replaced with a flat stare.

“That bell don’t mean school’s out, Jay. Keep going...that bell means hell.”

“Oh come on!”

“You heard me.”

After almost a week of the same routine, Sal had an idea one day as they got back on campus. “Y’know what, I’m gonna talk to the Head of Housing and see if I can get you to room with me.”

“Oh joy, I can hardly wait,” Jason replied dryly. He was getting better, but living with the high school student equivalent of a drill sergeant would be taxing as hell.

“C’mon man, it’ll be great. I’ll be right back.”

As his brutal coach walked to the office and Jason almost let exhaustion take him into sleep, the sound of multiple footsteps caught his dreary attention.

Bomber clapped a hand on his back, “Hey Jay, you still breathing?”

“Barely. How the hell does he do it?” Jason coughed.

“Push ups, sit ups, and plenty of protein shakes. Don’t believe me? Check his food storage,” Kerry chuckled, giving his right leg a shake to ease some pain.

Jason looked at the fifth year with concern, “How’s your prosthetic, Kerry?”

“It’s fine.” Kerry replied, staring gloomily at the metallic limb. “Rehab’s a bitch and a half, and the pain comes and goes, but it could be worse.”

“Yeah, you could be dead. I still can’t believe you all went off like that,” Ciara all but growled next to him.

“Alright alright, we get it! Your uncle and mom gave us the same lecture over and over again for weeks. We fucked up, and I’d say I paid a damn good price for it, don’t ya think?”

Silence fell over them for a brief moment, everyone eyeing the two when an argument seemed imminent. Some even braced for the impending argument when Kerry took a deep breath to calm himself down and said, “I’m sorry I snapped at you, Ciara, but I’ve gone through amputation, the hassle of adjusting to this new leg...trying to accept that Jack is gone. I have a reminder every day that yeah, I could be dead, but instead I’m limping along knowing that one of my best friends is dead.”

Ciara was taken aback by the outburst, and memories of that fateful day when Lacey was devoured came flooding back. ‘Thanks brain, you insufferable prick.’ “Kerry, I didn’t mean anything by it. I-”

“DOOOOOODGE!”

WHOOOSH!

Jason turned wide-eyed at the incoming Sal, “Motherfucker, that was a wrench!”

“Hey, if you can dodge that then you can dodge a punch,” Sal chuckled. “Oh hey guys, what’s up?”

“Uh, you tell me?” Kerry asked. “Where were you anyway?”

“Talking to the Head of Housing about making this wheezing work in progress my roommate. I actually ran into him on the way to his office.”

“And? What did he say?” Jason and Ciara asked simultaneously without realizing it.

The athletic veteran grinned, “He said yes.”

Petra looked over at the cousins, unable to hear the whispered conversation but it was obvious Kara found it amusing. Ciara...not so much, but Petra knew the girl was good at hiding her emotions. She was certain Kara was thinking along the lines of the two of them visiting Sal and Jason at the same time. It wasn’t like she was innocent in that department either, considering how much she and Bomber had talked recently.

Jason and Sal spent the next hour moving Jason’s stuff into Sal’s room with some help from Bomber. Jason had expected a room so full of workout equipment that he was certain Sal slept on one of those fucking Total Gym’s made by Chuck Norris. What he saw was, well….’It’s like Ciara’s room all over again!’

A normal bed, movie posters of various fighting and monster movies, a dvd rack full of movies ranging from classic gangster flicks to sports movies to kaiju films, a collection of books including the Nemesis Saga from the 2010’s, and a 70 inch plasma screen tv connected to a blu-ray player. Jason asked if it was also 3D, but Sal scolded him that “it’s a stupid fucking gimmick and everyone knows it.” Of course there was also a Bowflex and a dumbbell rack that ensured Jason that he wasn’t going crazy, but what really caught Jason off guard was the collection of different colored boxes between Sal’s S.H Monsterarts collection and a large box labeled ‘MTG Collection’. He read the names on each of the boxes., “Xenagos’ Big Stick Policy, Nekusar’s Wheel of Fuck You, Jund Fight Club, Naya Cartel, Migraine, Red/Green Landfall, Grixis Ingest… what the shit?”

“Ah, I see you found my guilty pleasure” Sal said leaning against the wall.

Jason looked at him in bewilderment, “You collect and play Magic the Gathering? Of all things to expect when I got here, that was far from the top.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting to get into it either. But I was at the comic book store on the North end of campus when a tournament was being held for the Commander/EDH format. The owner, Ras, helped explain it to me and even helped me build my first deck. It’s that Blue/Black deck by your hand, a mill deck I dubbed Migraine. Mill means I’m forcing you to dump your cards from the deck and in to the graveyard. Unfortunately, that build’s not legal in any 60-card format except Legacy thanks to one of the cards.”

Jason looked over and noticed that the Xenagos and Nekusar deck boxes were much bigger than the others. “I take it those are Commander format?”

Sal grinned, “Yup, and damn near impossible to beat. Nekusar is Red, Blue, and Black, and his play style is basically the Migraine deck on crack.” He pointed to Xenagos, “Red and Green, and pretty straightforward: play big creatures, double their power with Xenagos’ ability, and punch someone for huge chunks of damage if not a one-shot kill. Between the two, that one is definitely the scariest.”

Jason looked over at the box, “I’m guessing that’s filled with cards too?”

Sal nodded, “Yup, organized by set, color, and rarity. Separated the Planeswalkers from the others though. They’re sleeved and put in a case behind the box”

Jason peered over the box. ‘So many foils!’ he thought, his eyes wandering over to the two draconic Planeswalkers Ugin the Spirit Dragon and Nicol Bolas, who Sal said was basically the Big Bad of the franchise.

“If you’re interested, I can teach you and maybe whoever in the group is interested besides Bomber some time. Could use some more people to throw big dumb monsters at. But for now, I’d recommend you finish getting set up in that guest room. We got another day of whipping you into shape tomorrow, so sleep while you can.”

-------

The following morning, 4:45am

Jason was sleeping peacefully, dreaming, of all things, about a date with a certain bodyguard of his when suddenly a loud blast of hard rock sent him rocketing out of his bed. Jason crawled to the door and opened it to find Sal shadow boxing something fierce in the hallway. He wasn’t sure if it had anything to do with a shout he heard in the middle of the night or not, because it looked like Sal had been up for hours.

“C’mon Jay, time to go to work!”

SLAM

Sal simply shrugged, “Alright, I’ll grab the ice water!”

“FINE! LET ME CHANGE INTO MY DEATH-I MEAN, WORKOUT CLOTHES!” Sal heard Jason yell from inside his room. When Jason stepped out, Sal handed him a spare mp3 player, and when he scrolled through the music, he shouldn’t have been surprised.

“Almost everything on here is either from a fight movie soundtrack, hard rock, metal, or some intense instrumental. You literally have the entire Rocky IV soundtrack on this thing!”

Sal laughed as he hooked up his own mp3 player, “Exactly. Keep the adrenaline pumping and the mindset going. Now go to ‘Gonna Fly Now’ and put it on repeat so we can start running.”

Another routine of sparring, this time Jason found his rhythm much sooner but no less ended up on his back. “Next up: weight training!”

Sal heard him groan from the floor, “...Just kill me now. Are we going for endurance or resistance?”

“Well color me surprised you know what the difference is. We switch every day, so today will be resistance.”

The two started off on bench with a workout of 3 sets with 5 reps each, with Jason putting up a decent amount for his size at 175. Sal’s turn, and Jason wondered if it was even humanly possible for someone Sal’s size to push 250 as easily as he did. But what he found odd was that his new mentor wanted to increase the weight on each set by 50 pounds. Before they called it a day, they went back for a second round of sparring when Sal tapped Jason on the shoulder.

“Hey Jason?”

He winced, “What?”

“Dodge!” Jason flinched, but nothing ever happened. “Ha! Gotcha!”

“Fuck you dude! Just help me put away the weights and let’s get started on round 2.”

“Haha alright let’s get to work, but just remember who agreed to this.”

The next day was the first day of team practice, so when Sal said to be prepared for unorthodox coaching, which Jason laughed at and told him to look in a mirror, he had no idea what was coming. Sal and Jason were the first ones in the school gym, turning on the lights as they waited shortly for the others to arrive, There was approximately fifty students in the gym, some larger than even Sal, some as small as Kara, and even some girls on the team. When Jason nudged him about that, Sal had explained that there were all-girl fighting teams as well as the rule of females fighting only females. Jason tried really hard to shake the thought of Ciara in her training attire throwing someone to the floor...needless to say, he failed. While teammates chatted and waited, the door was thrust open and the man who approached Jason after the homecoming game walked in.

“Alright maggots listen up! If this your first day of Fighting, allow me to go over the pecking order: it goes you, the dirt, the worms inside the dirt, my toilet, Sal, then Coach Wilson. And if you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m your coach, Wade ‘The Shade’ Wilson. Any questions?”

One blonde haired kid raised his hand, “Um, yeah I-AAAAH!” only to be promptly picked up by The Shade, thrown to Sal and immediately slammed to the ground.

‘WHAT THE SHIT, DUDE?!’ Jason’s mind screamed after he scrambled out of the way and watched what happened.

“Enjoy the climb back up, bitch!” Coach Wilson cleared his throat and turned to the rest of the team, “Anymore questions?”

Silence. “Good. Now we can begin. Everyone gear up, grab a partner, and we’ll split off into three groups: beginners, intermediates, and veterans. Now get moving!”

The team grabbed their sparring pads and split off into their groups, with Sal dragging Jason with him to the veteran’s area. As they went to work, they could hear Wilson practically interrogating the others, as if to weed out the weak. Jason was trying his best not to laugh because Sal was not kidding: this guy was really unusual.

“Alright, Aryan Coconut, what’s your name?”

“Ar-Ar-Ar-”

“Sweet Mother Teresa on the hood of a Mercedes Benz! You sound like a majestic fucking eagle! Do you sing?”

“I uh-”

“HARMONIZE WITH ME MAGGOT!”

Coach Wilson then basically forced the straw-haired boy into harmonizing with him, and surprisingly the old man’s alto didn’t sound bad, but Arman sounded like a cat being strangled. Jason was prepared for a lot of things, like waking up early or Ciara’s taunting, but this man’s coaching was not one of them.

“What about you freckles? Where do you see yourself at the end of the season?”

“I plan on giving my body and life to becoming Lightweight Champion of Amoca, sir!”

Coach Wilson clicked his tongue, “Oh, oh you think this is HAREM OF THE DEAD, YOU SHRIMP DICK FUCK NUGGET!? BOY, IF YOU CAN’T EVEN-”

“DODGE!”

A medicine ball pegged the boy square in the chest and knocked the wind out of him. Wilson looked to see where it came from, finding Jason to be the culprit. “Precisely! If you can’t even dodge like Jason...what was your last name again?”

“Carter sir.”

“Like Jason Cart-astic over there, then you shouldn’t even bother trying to go for the title!”

The downed kid’s partner was heard laughing, “Oh my god Jean, you suck!”

“Well sweet Jolly-fucking-Rancher, I bet your mom wishes she had swallowed you!” Wilson rounded on the one laughing, a shorter boy with an indigo-colored buzz cut, grabbing him by the head with both hands and lifting him off the ground.

Sal looked at his protege, “You realize you just added extra pressure on yourself, right?”

“...Fuck.”

At the end of the day, Wilson sent Sal to another room and gathered everyone else up. “Alright ladies... and boys, I’m not sexist, it’s game time. For you new kids, this is a game called Blackout we do every day after practice. Everyone but Carter, go inside that room.“

Jason raised a brow, “What am I doing?”

“Just stay by that window, newbie. Watch and learn.” the twisted smile at the end gave Jason chills. He could see one large circle of light in the center of the room and heard the coach telling everyone “Now stand in this circle here.”

He walked to the door when one student asked, “You mean like this?”

Closing the door behind him and standing next to Jason, he pressed a button that hit the speakers in the room, “Yup...bye!”

“Hey uh, Coach? Where did you send them?” Jason asked nervously.

“I can tell you where they’re not” the older man grinned as he pressed another button, this one a buzzer, “...safe.”

“What do you-”

“AAAAAH!”

He looked in through the window to see Sal weaving in and out of the shadows to take down his teammates. Some joined in his assault after they hit the ground, while others stubbornly fought and failed. There were screams and shouts, but none would be heard over the coach’s demented laughter.

“I love this game!”

Jason looked at his new coach, “It looks...fun?”

The coach cracked a toothy grin, “Good, because you’re in the next round.”

BZZZZZT

“Wh-what?”

“Yup....bye!”

Before he realized it, Jason was shoved into the room, feeling predatory eyes lock on him. “Wait, no-”

SLAM

-----------

Several days later, it was announced who Hellview would face in the season opener after the schedule was released. For some on their team, it meant increased training to make weight, increase their strength, or perfect their timing. Sal was almost a ghost for some days, disappearing for his self-prescribed two-a-day workouts. But for Jason…

“Uh, Jason? Why are you eating all the way over here by yourself?”

Jason looked around nervously. He had chosen to eat out in the bushes and trees near campus that were coincidentally away from a certain someone. “Hiding from Sal!” he whispered.

“He’s kicking your ass that bad in training, eh?” Ciara laughed, but couldn’t help but feel bad for her charge.

“You have no ide-”

BONK

Jason fell face-first to the dirt, twitching. Ciara looked around and couldn’t see him, but in the distance, all that could be heard was Sal shouting “DOOOOOOOOOOODGE!”

“Holy shit. Yeah, you have your work cut out for you.” While he was down, Ciara couldn’t help but admire the extra muscle Jason had put on. She went to poke him, but snapped out of it and smacked herself. ‘Ciara, stop yourself while you’re ahead! Well, maybe one little touch couldn’t-what am I doing? Stop stop stop stop stop!’

She felt a buzz from her phone, and had to refrain from breaking it as it read “Take a picture Ciara, it’ll last longer!”

The closer the match got though, the more Jason saw Sal pushing himself even further than normal, which said a lot. What also got his attention were the bags under Sal’s eyes, telling him that he hadn’t been sleeping, Today he got up to find Sal already gone, and when he got to the gym he found Sal flipping monster truck tires and pounding them with a sledgehammer in the yard behind it.

“You’re here earlier than usual. Something under your skin, bud?”

The veteran fighter turned mid-swing and exhaled, “I had a nightmare. I’ve been having nightmares for a little bit now, honestly.”

When Jason froze in place, Sal quickly brushed it off, “Not that kinda nightmare, or at least I hope not. I had it once during the football season, and a number of times recently, a nightmare where I watched everyone I know and care for die and I was too powerless to stop it. Kerry, Bomber, Petra, Ciara, you...Kara. Everyone, one by one. When Ciara fought those two Denizens a few months ago, do you know how much I wanted to jump in and take that big one down?”

“Probably a lot?”

“Yeah, a lot would be an understatement; that was when the first one happened. But I don’t have crazy abilities like her or her family. I’m just freakishly physically gifted and know how to make psychology a weapon. All I can do -all I know I can do- is train to be stronger, faster, more durable, and increase my endurance. I can’t sprout bladed tendrils or turn triangles into fucking squares-”

“I don’t think she can do that last one, Sal,” Jason interjected.

“You know what I mean, dude. The next time something like that happens, I’m not going to be on the sidelines to watch my friends potentially die. I am not a spectator, I am a warrior.”

Jason knew what he meant...how he felt. Sal had to keep an eye on the others, who had no idea what they were thinking or doing being out there, while he went took the truck to help Ciara out. He couldn’t watch her die like that. But he was in the truck when he helped her; in it, he felt like could do anything. Outside of it though, he would have been dead in seconds. His friend before him was basically the human equivalent of that truck, and he could only imagine what Sal would do if Kara were in that same situation. If he wanted to be able to fight these things, to actually do more to help and save the people he cared for...who could blame him?

“Well then,” he said, hoping to reassure his friend, “let’s get you there.”

----------

It was the night of the big fight on Wednesday, and everyone from the Paranormal Research Club had tried their best to get there early after school to get front row seats in the center section of the stands. They couldn’t get the very front, but they managed to get seats just three rows above it. Ciara fidgeted in her seat, anxious to see her...what was he, anymore? She didn’t know if he was her charge or her crush, and she was starting to wonder if she even cared anymore about this question. A finger tapping her shoulder brought her from her thoughts.

“Any room for a few more?”

“Yeah, just go ahead and…” Ciara turned to see who exactly it was, and she wasn’t expecting her parents of all people to show up. “Mom? Dad? What are you guys doing here?”

“Oh you know, just wanted to see how Jason’s debut goes. I’m sure Sal and Wade put him through the wringer to get him ready.”

Ciara was reminded of Jason’s prone, new meaty form on the dirt a few days ago. “Yeah, you can say that.”

Aaron scowled, “Think Wade’s heard from that prick Denim since the eviction?”

Amy shook her head, “No, he still refuses to be associated with the man, and makes sure he has absolutely no way to contact the team. He actually called Sam a while ago to see how she was doing and offered to help her out if she needed it.”

“Wait,” Ciara was startled by this new tidbit of information,”You guys know Coach Wilson personally?”

“Yes dear. He was Denim’s best friend from their professional fighting team, so he came by a lot. However, when James fucked up, Wade was there to help him move out of the house. He didn’t even bother paying the bill for how much blood James left in the moving van after Wade kicked his ass in the driveway.”

“Speaking of fighting,” Alexis cut in, “Did you two drop off the gift?”

Ciara and Kara shot each other a look, then back to their elders, “Yup.”

-------

Earlier

Jason and Sal were the first ones in the locker room, and while Sal warmed up practically glowing in confidence, Jason was feeling like a nervous wreck. When Jason ran off to empty his stomach, Sal felt a pair of eyes watching him shadow-box.

“Whoever’s in here, show yourself,” he growled.

Kara’s face poked around the corner, “~Hiiii Sal~”

The fifth year relaxed, “You realize this is the boys’ locker room, right?”

“Yeah, I just...wanted to see you before the match begins. Wish you good luck and all that.”

Sal blinked as that settled in his head, trying his best not to smile like an idiot.

“Is that your iPod?” Sal nodded as Kara picked it up, “Is it ok if I check out what music you have?”

“Sure. I’m actually still digging around for a song to give to the event staff for my entrance music, so maybe you can help me out.”

Kara’s eyes could’ve rivaled those of a giant squid in that moment. Doing her best not to jackhammer in place, she smiled and said “I’d love to.”

Taking one end and putting it in her ear, Kara refrained from hitting ‘play’ for a moment. “Sal?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you afraid that one day you’ll fight a fight you might not win? Like, there’s been nothing but talk about how he’s been training specifically to end you. He was actually quoted saying that...” she began to choke up, “‘If he dies, he dies.’ I know how much you want this fight, but are you sure you can beat him for good?”

Sal looked her in the eyes, registering all of the worry they had, “No, maybe I can't win. Maybe the only thing I can do is just take everything he's got.” He wrapped an arm around Kara, giving her a squeeze of reassurance. “But to beat me he's gonna have to kill me, and to kill me he's gotta have the guts to stand in front of me, and to do that he's gotta be willin’ to die himself. I don't know if he's ready to do that. Besides what kinda guy talks about killing his opponent? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s scared.”

Back in the bathroom, Jason had finished retching out his nervousness. His arms were heavy, knees weak, and palms were sweaty. ‘That tasted like mom’s spaghetti…’ he chuckled at the memory as he cupped water in his hands and rinsed his mouth out of the taste.

Wiping his mouth clean and walking back to the main locker room, he caught a sight he tried hard not to laugh loudly at. On one of the seats, Sal and Kara had their heads leaning against one another as they shared a set of headphones and listened to music. Jason noticed how their arms were nearly entwined, Sal’s meathook of a hand almost on top of Kara’s when she moved it and put it on his cheek. “Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself out there-”

“ACHOO!” the two were startled by Jason’s sneeze and bolted right off the seat, Sal immediately asking with narrowed eyes, “How long were you standing there?”

“Uh, hehe, maybe a few seconds?” Jason scratched the back of his head sheepishly while the other two glared with faces redder than even Kara’s eyes. Before he could tease them, a gust of wind whooshed in and out in a split second, the only other sound being the rustle of a box on the seat next to him. ‘Was that always there, or...?’ Jason wondered until he saw the note on top of the box, covered in smooth black wrapping paper and tied together with blue string.

“Wasn’t me,” Sal said, eyeing the box with curiosity as well.

Kara followed suit and said “Me either,” though the strain of trying not to laugh told Jason she knew something. The sound of a locker being closed almost too quietly got his attention, especially when he heard the yelp of it closing on the occupant’s foot.

Jason smiled, “Ciara.”

Silence, and then the locker was opened again. Sure enough, Ciara came from around the corner, face red in embarrassment at being caught red-handed. “Surprise?”

“What is it?” Jason asked, looking at the box cautiously.

“I’m not telling, because that would ruin the surprise, dummy!” Taking the hint, Jason unwrapped the box and opened it, sifting through gift paper in the box. What he saw left him dumbfounded: a set of fighting trunks not in Hellview’s black and red, but navy blue with a red waistband, and on the right leg was the Arizona flag. Jason felt his mouth drop, memories of old coming back to him before he shook his head clear.

“I...I don’t know what to say, Ciara. This is just...thank you!”

“It wasn’t just me; mom and dad helped out with the design too.” Before she knew it, Ciara was brought into a tight hug and after a second of being caught off guard, returned the gesture. “Please don’t get hit too much out there.”

“So Jason, any ideas for a nickname before you go out there?” Kara asked. Sal seemed to be thinking of a few on the spot.

Ciara looked up at Jason, “ I think I’ve got one…”

---------

Present

The night was a back and forth affair between the rival schools with bodies being thrown, faces battered, and egos bruised. One match in particular saw one of the heavyweights attempt to stop a german suplex by sticking his legs out, only to twist the whole lower leg ninety degrees with a loud crack. While the others cheered regardless of the fight, her interest wasn’t piqued until the first of four girls matches. The girls from Hellview put up valiant efforts with only one win by official decision, but the other three made her laugh inside. ‘I could have easily taken those three one by one. I wonder if that’s why Jason never told me there were girls on the team?’ she mused.

‘Maybe he didn’t want you threatening them after practice to stay away,’ her conscience fired back.

‘Quiet you, I’m not that crazy.’

‘Says the one internally arguing with herself.’

At the end of the night prior to the final matches, Carver City held the advantage 25-24. The moment they were waiting for was here as Jason’s match was up next; the scoreboard signalled ‘lightweight,’ which ruled out Sal immediately. First one to come out was Tobias Andrion to the sound of some inner city rap tune, his trunks blue and white versus the blue and grey of his teammates. She wasn’t sure what it was that made her want to do it, but she wanted to take one of the chairs down there and hit him across the face with it.

‘What the hell is happening to me?!’

DUN DUN DUN DUN DUNNUNUNUN

“You’ve gotta be shitting me! Oh this is classic!” Her father was laughing, as well as Bomber and Kerry.

“Why do I get the feeling it’s something bad? And why does it sound so familiar?”

Her mother gave her an apologetic look, “You remember how you’re father watches professional wrestling from time to time?”

“Yes?”

“Well…”

“It’s Uncle Aaron’s favorite wrestler’s theme song, Bulk Crogan!” Kara laughed.

When it comes crashing down and it hurts inside
You gotta take a stand
It don't hurt to hide
If you hurt my friends, then you hurt my pride
I gotta be a man, I can't let it slide

“Ciara dear, Jason never got hazed yet did he?” Amy herself started to laugh, much to her daughter’s chagrin. Ciara went to answer, but Bomber, Petra, and Kerry’s laughter only confirmed it.

I am a real Amocan!
Fight for the rights of every man!
I'm a real Amocan!
Fight for what's right, fight for your life!

‘God dammit Sal.’

Jason echoed her thoughts exactly as he, Sal, Coach Wilson, and members of security walked through the doorway, the music continuing to play.

“I fucking hate you right now dude,” Jason groaned out from under his hood as the chorus played out once more.

“Congratulations, you have officially been hazed by yours truly. Now c’mon, and get on the mat. You have people in the stands watching for your debut.”

“Cut the pillow talk, ladies! Carter, get your ass on the mat and beat face!”

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is our co-main event of the evening! For Carver City High, standing at 5 feet 10 inches and weighing in at 147 pounds...Tobias ‘The Law’ Andrion!”

‘Must. Resist. Assaulting. With chair.’ Ciara ground her teeth together, oblivious to the knowing looks her parents shot her.

“And from your own Hellview High, standing at 5 feet 10 inches and weighing 145 pounds…’The Arizona Kid,’ Jason Carter!” Jason raised a hand to the crowd getting a warm reception from parts of the crowd until he got to the center of the stands and found pure heat radiating his way.

Jason and Tobias met in the center of the mat with the referee, “Alright men, I told both of you the rules in the locker rooms. Protect yourself at all times, and listen to my instructions at all times. You may touch gloves-”

Jason held his up, but his opponent merely smirked and kept his down. ‘Cocky prick.’

“-Go back to your corners.”

Jason went to his corner, being told first thing by Coach Wilson that Sal will act as his primary coach for the fight, seeing as he’d spent more time training him than their actual coach had. Sal pat Jason on the back, “You got this Jay. Remember what we went over, remember your training, and you should be golden.”

DING

The first round began with Jason and Tobias sizing each other up for the opening seconds until Tobias rushed him and nailed him with a two-jab setup only for the follow-up hook to get blocked. Jason set his feet and threw a slew of jabs to test the waters. ‘Blocked, blocked, hit...wait, that stunned him? Good, time to go for the ki-SHIT!’

Jason went for a hard elbow aimed at Tobias’ temple when the latter ducked under and swept his legs out from underneath him with his hand planted right on Jason’s chest. Jason immediately covered himself up prevent any hits landing on his head, waiting for the right moment to strike. Tobias’ punches hit everywhere but his head, so when Tobias’ left came down, Jason swerved to the right and grabbed the arm.

“Come on Jason! You can do this dude!” Kerry shouted, soda in hand. Every one of them cheered and hollered in some way, even Ciara who pumped her fists with mock-punches. “Kick his ass, Jay! I know you got this!”

Jason fired right hand after right hand into directly into The Law’s face to force the break. He wasted little time going on the offensive, shooting a high-crotch single leg effectively for a takedown. Pressing half-guard, Jason went for simplicity and finished the opening round with a ground and pound method he learned the hard way from Sal, dropping a volley of cruel elbows until the bell.

The crowds were definitely talking; Andrion was one of the top lightweights in the nation, and here comes this unknown from the New Realm taking the fight to The Law. The Raiders coach seemed to be absolutely livid, while Wilson was almost basking in the aura of rage emanating from across the mat. Sal sat Jason down on the stool, the assistant giving Jason water to wash and spit any blood out.

“Not bad, rookie! You’ve officially stunned a good portion of the audience. Now, I want you to start off with a takedown. Tobias can’t handle being on his back, and rumors from his exes testify.”

“Jesus, Sal! How does that get out there?”

“Social media only works when you’re, y’know, social. Now at the bell, shoot a double leg and kick his ass from full guard. If you want, go to full mount and give him zero room to fight back.”

DING

“Go do it, ‘Arizona Kid!’”

As expected, Tobias swung wide in an attempt to take Jason’s head off his shoulders. Jason ducked under, feeling the air blow over his head as he practically tackled Tobias with the takedown. As planned, Jason maintained full guard and exchanged blows with his opponent, landing more than he missed while Tobias fought to get back to the stand-up game, landing what blows that he could.

Up in the stands, Ciara was beaming with pride while Jason slugged Tobias in the jaw, but something within her brewed up. Before he showed up, she’d have never dreamed to have come out to these sort of things, much less for anyone who wasn’t related. Hell, she didn’t care much for many outside of her family save the select few she was cheering and shouting with. But now? She could fight a Denizen all day long, but Acelon forbid that Jason figure out or learn how she truly felt...unless he already has. The homecoming game, the multiple days they’ve spent hanging out with each other and the others were close calls, but all of it was just so...new.

To her left, Petra was heard asking Bomber, “I’m surprised you never considered doing this, Nathan.”

‘Nathan? Since when was he Nathan?’

“All it takes is watching one of Sal’s matches and you immediately second guess that idea,” Bomber shrugged.

Petra raised an eyebrow, “Why’s that?”

“Because if I’m not training with him, there’s a chance I could cross paths with him at one of the tournaments.” Bomber smirked, “Jeez, and here I was beginning to think you liked me.”

Petra’s immediate silence and burning redness were instantly noticed until the ‘ooohs’ chorused. Even the adults were shocked at the turn of events; Tobias had managed to wrestle his legs free and trap Jason in a triangle choke mid-punch, squeezing and punching as hard as he could. Jason curled his body up, grabbing his snared arm with the free one, and heaved Tobias up into the air before dropping him down on the mat with a booming slam to end the round. Even from the stands, they all could see that Jason got cut open pretty good and that one of his eyes was already swollen. Despite the thumbs up Sal flashed them, Aaron and Amy could see it instantly eating their daughter.

“Slippery bastard!” Jason growled after spitting a mouthful of bloody red water.

“Keep the pressure on him! You’re doing good out there, and you’re making him fight your fight. Don’t rush it. One step at a time, one punch at a time, one round at a time.”

“What if I see an opening I like?”

“Then go right into it… wait, are you talking about the fight or-?”

“I will end you.”

Sal glared, “You’ll die trying. Now stop blocking with your face and get in there!”

At the bell, neither one tried for a takedown, instead choosing to trade blows with Tobias keeping Jason at bay with his longer reach. Jason couldn’t break through his stand-up defense this time, as The Law mixed up his timing with different combinations and blocks. Jason got caught with one jab that set up a huge right hook which sent him to the floor and busted his other eye. The referee stepped between them and started counting to ten, Jason barely making it to his feet by 8.

“C’mon, Jay! Don’t you lose to this fucking clown shoe!” Ciara screamed, now on her feet as Jason beat the count and miss a punch before the round was over. Sal grabbed the chilled enswell and pressed it against Jason’s eyes as soon as he sat on the stool. The bleeding was stopping, but the swelling was still going no matter much he pressed.

“Oh no…” Kerry winced.

“Leg acting up again, dude?” Bomber asked

“No. Well, yes, it feels like it’s being electrified, but that’s not it. The fight physician’s coming to look at Jay,” Kerry stated. Ciara turned her glaring attention from the chuckling corner of Carver City to Hellview’s, and sure enough, the man was asking about Jason’s eyes. He held one hand over an eye and, though they couldn’t hear it, was most likely asking how many fingers he held up in the other.

Jason felt Sal’s hand from on his shoulder give two taps. “Two.”

The official repeated the process with the next eye, “How many now, son?”

Tap Tap Tap Tap

“Four, and don’t call me son, sir.”

“Oh yeah, your nose is broken.” Sal said when the physician was out of earshot.

“How does it look?”

Sal shrugged, “Ah, it’s an improvement.”

To his supporters’ relief, the official gave the ok for the match to continue. Jason’s vision wasn’t a hundred percent, not enough to have passed the exam, but he could see more than enough to finish the fight. At the bell, he nailed Tobias right in the knee with a flurry of leg kicks. One brought Tobias to a knee, where Jason unloaded a huge left hand into his face and could’ve sworn he felt a crunch. The Law was definitely hurt and his eyes were spinning, but he still refused to go down despite his stupor.

“Jason, hurry up and hit him with all your strength! Before he has time to DOOOOODGE!”

At the last word, a word that echoed in his ears, Jason faltered at the worst possible time and ate a three-strike combo for his mistake followed by an armdrag takedown. He saw stars after hitting his head on the mat, and his opponent took advantage of it by going for side control, much to Sal’s audible annoyance on the sideline.

“DAMN YOU, PAVLOV!”

One by one by one, Jason ate multiple hammerfists, and Ciara cringed in the stands as if she could feel them, Jason fought as much as he could to get back to his feet, but Tobias pressed down to maintain side control. ‘What can I do? I can hit him with knees to the ribs, but that might give him a leg to work on. Think: What would Sal do?’


“Pummel the inside arm!” He heard him yell. “Get it out and under him!”

‘I think I know where he’s going with this.’ Jason did so and immediately began to create space. Turning his hips in and keeping his legs off the mat a few inches, he swung his legs around to be parallel to Tobias, using his arms to guide him.

“There you go, Jay. NOW FINISH HIM!” Sal continued to coach for his friend.

Jason secured a lock with his hands, shot his hips underneath Tobias, and slid his hands into what Sal said was the D’arce position. His foe struggled with all of his might to break free, but with each movement he made, Jason cinched the lock in even tighter. Punches began to rain down on his ribs, including a crunching break or two.

Jason was forced to let go and stand back up, getting an escape point with pained breathing. Tobias, on the other hand, was struggling for breath after the D’Arce choke. Before Jason could rush him and swing away with a flurry of punches, the bell rang and both fighters were sent to their corners.

“Alright Jay, you’re doing awesome out there. Nice job with the choke, but I need you to protect your sides and eyes at all costs. You’re bleeding like a stuck pig.”

As the cutman took care of Jason’s wounds, Sal continued, “You got one shot: I need you to go southpaw. Step through and punch like we practiced. I want you to go in there and kick. His. Ass! You’re the Arizona Kid, and I want to see the Arizona Kid, you hear me? Our friends are watching you, the Landis family is watching you....Ciara’s watching you.”

At that last one, Jason felt like she was in his corner, amidst all of the naysayers counting him out. ‘Too bad for them, this is my round.' He rocketed out of his seat as his coach finished, “You got to go in there and beat his ass!”

Jason and Tobias met once more in the center of the mat and from the word ‘go’ exchanged blows like they were going out of style. Blocking a couple of body shots with his elbows, Jason found the upper hand and landed a jab-hook-spinning backfist combo that staggered Tobias.

“Now’s the time, Jay! NOW’S THE TIME!” Sal bellowed from his corner.

Jason saw the moment too; blocking a right hook, he stepped in with a hard straight hand and hit an uppercut from the southpaw position. Tobias’ eyes spun as he dropped like a bag of rocks to the floor, silence stunning all but Jason’s teammates and friends who cheered, the angry Carver City Raiders who hissed and swore, and Ciara who tried her hardest not to squeal with joy out loud.

The referee began to count out loud to ten as Tobias began to stir. “ONE!”

“TWO!”

Sal clapped a hand on Jason’s shoulder, “You’ve got this, Jay. He’s not getting up from that.”

“THREE!”

Tobias started to twitch back to consciousness.

“FOUR!”

The Raiders corner shouted frantically “Get up!”

“FIVE!”

“Don’t let this nobody beat you, Tobias! GET UP!”

“SIX!”

Tobias slowly made it to his knees.

“SEVEN!”

He struggled to stand up, wobbling back and forth like a drunkard.

“EIGHT!”

“He’s not getting up, dude.”

“NINE!”

Tobias stood up for a moment, just one brief moment until he crashed to the ground sideways.

“TEN!”

Jason had never known what it was like to have a crowd behind him; He’d always felt like it was him against the other kids back in Arizona, but now that he did, hearing them roar and chant his name... it felt damn good. The blood dripping from his face and the pain screaming from his body was another story. Sal had given him an icepack for the swelling before he went to the back to get ready for his fight, but not before cracking one last joke.

“Guess you can say you fought the law, and the law lost.”

Jason’s battered face turned his way, “...God dammit Sal.” His head was thumping something fierce, but if the cheers coming his way from the middle of the stands were any indicator, he’d just made someone’s night.

Once the mat was cleaned off of the previous fight’s blood, one musical note was all that was heard before the stadium erupted in a vocal war. Ciara could barely make out the music that cued Sal’s opponent’s entrance to the arena between Hellview’s boos, Carver City’s cheers, and Kara’s rage, but it sounded an awful lot like an orchestra for some kind of hero. Deep drums were the most prominent though, and it made sense: this guy wanted to impose with sheer size alone. Making his way to the mat, he easily towered over everybody else, including the ref who couldn’t have been more than 6’4”. He looked like he ate the kid from the last fight, his arms built like steel beams on a body supported by tree trunk-like legs.

“So you’re telling me Sal has to go up against that guy?” Aaron blurted out. “Well Kara, hope that petition of yours came with money for a medical bill.”

The rest of the Landis family, especially Kara, stared daggers at him while Amy and Alexis slugged him in the shoulder, “Ok, shutting up now.”

For a few seconds it was silent until the lights dimmed and music faded slowly in before the speakers blared, “I AM PHENOMENAL!”

Sal appeared in the doorway under the lone bright light, warming up with a war dance similar to U.S. heavyweight myth of old, Brock Lesnar. “What is up this guy and pre-game ritual war-dancing?” Bomber spoke out as the music continued.

With every ounce of my blood
With every breath in my lungs
Won't stop until I'm phe-no-menal

I AM PHENOMENAL!

Sal pumped his arms up and slammed them down, cueing the lights to return as he started making his way to the mat. To some, it was just the place for combatants of sports like this to compete, but for Sal? This was his second home, and he would be damned if that Neanderthal Krigma would come into his house and kick his ass.

However long that it takes
I'll go to whatever lengths
It's gonna make me a monster though!

‘Of all nights, don’t go to those lengths and make yourself a monster. Not when she’s here…’ Ciara couldn’t help but notice Kara constantly wringing her hands as Sal made eye contact with his opponent.

I AM PHENOMENAL!

But I would never say, ‘Oh, it’s impossible’
Cause I'm born to be phenomenal!

“That other guy’s so huge compared to him, and yet after that entrance, Sal doesn’t seem to give a shit,” Aaron said after sipping his diet coke and handing it to Amy.

“Theatricality and deception, sir. Powerful agents to the uninitiated.”

Petra and Bomber shared a look, then turned to Ernest, “Did you just quote one of the Dark Knight trilogy movies?”

“...Maybe?”

As one, everyone in their group mocked him, “NEEEEEEEERD!”

“And now, for our main event of the evening! In the heavyweight division, standing at 7 feet 2 inches tall and weighing in at 285 lbs, Carver City’s own Rohban ‘Lockjaw’ Krigma!” the announcer called out and Rohban mocked the Hellview crowd. Ciara was almost certain that Kara, sweet little Kara who had a hard enough time killing flies, grew a mean bone in that instant that screamed for murder.

“And from your own Hellview High, he stands at 5 feet 7 inches tall and weighing 160 pounds... ‘The Silverback,’ Sal Gutierrez!” Sal pounded his hairy chest to the crowd and gave a primal holler, getting a chorus of cheers here and there, but the loudest came from the Paranormal Research Club and the Landis family.

Amy looked at her daughter and niece, “Kara, Ciara, where did you two find this young man? Out in the wild somewhere?”

Kara tried her best not to blush, “He’s from the U.S., Mom. I thought you knew that?”

“I treat injuries, not track down my patients like some government hound. And if you’re interested in a little medical factoid, his face has a lot of scar tissue from this sport.”

“It didn’t feel like it- I mean what?” Kara caught herself too late as everyone around her started laughing, forcing her to squeal into her hoodie. Ciara glanced at her aunt and caught a wink, ‘She fucking planned that?!’

“Gotcha, Kara. It’s ok, you know. You’re only young once,” Alexis smiled and brought her daughter in for a hug.

Down on the mat Sal glared up at Rohban; they’d been doing this song and dance for years, and “Lockjaw” thought he’d get away with what happened last year? Gods bless Kara for getting that petition out there, because he planned on making this match hurt more than each one they’d ever had before. The two of them refused to budge from where they stood as the referee walked towards them.

“Alright men, I told both you of the rules in the locker rooms. Protect yourself at all times, and listen to my instructions at all times. You may touch gloves-” As much as they hated each other, they respected each other’s commitment to the sport enough to hold out their gloves. But respect only went so far with them as Rohban tried to slam his frying pan-sized hands down on Sal’s.

“I must break you,” he snarled, his accent thickly laced in malice but to his annoyance, his foe’s hands barely budged as Sal spat back, “Good luck with that.”

“-Go back to your corners.” He then grabbed the mic so the crowd wouldn’t hear him, “Please? The fight hasn’t started yet and I don’t plan on dying just yet, especially tonight.”

To say neither of them trusted the other as far as they could throw them was an understatement, as Sal and Rohban walked backwards to their corners without breaking eye contact. Silence gripped the crowd on both sides as coaches talked up their pupils before the opening bell. The only sounds that could be heard were breathing, eating, and pins dropping. The crickets didn’t even have the balls to chirp in this moment. The Unstoppable Force was staring down the Immovable Object, and war was about to be waged, size be damned.

“This is David vs. Goliath,” Casey uttered, Aaron nodding in agreement.

“It’s King Kong vs. Godzilla,” Bomber breathed through a mouthful of popcorn.

“I’m getting Rocky vs. Ivan Drago flashbacks” Amy whispered.

“Batman vs. Super-” Ernest felt a hand cup around his mouth as Petra quietly threatened him, “WHY DID YOU SAY THAT NAME! I SHOULD CUT YOU!”

DING

Like caged dogs, Sal and Rohban wasted little time charging to meet each other and pummel each other's face to pulp. Bomber and Kerry were used to this, even Kara to an extent, but everyone else didn’t expect it to be so brutal from the get-go. Each blow was as thunderous as the last, and just as vicious too as a minute in and neither one of them relented from their collar-tied beatdown of the other. For anyone else, this was chaos, but to Sal, this was a repeat of their past fights. Something told Sal that some in the fighting community would call this a reincarnation of Don Frye vs. Yoshihiro Takayama in 2006 by the end of the night.

Jason, still in his seat with his eyes swollen shut and ice pack plastered to his bloody face, shouted, “KICK HIS ASS, SAL!”

In the final seconds of the round, the cloud of sweat hazing in the light finally began to tint a reddish hue as blood began to spill, mostly from Sal’s forehead and lips while Rohban was certainly banged up but yet to be cut open. The bell rang and the two of them once again stepped backwards into their corners.

Jason couldn’t see anything, but the unusual calm he was picking up after that nonstop battering session was unnerving. He heard the sound of water spit into a bucket, smelled the coppery tinge of blood, the sound of surprisingly calm breathing, and the cheers and sneers from both crowds. He wondered what Ciara was thinking from up in her seat. ‘Probably having, or just getting over, a heart attack. Guaranteed I’m gonna hear it once this done.’ he thought with a twinge of pain. But he had to admit, knowing she was watching made him feel unstoppable in that match.

“Alright Sal, round 2: you two decide to keep wailing on each other like last round, by all means do so, but cave his fucking face in in the process! If you feel him ready to change it up, don’t hesitate change the game before he does. Don’t forget that you’re a lot shorter than he is, so take those tree trunks he calls legs out from underneath him if he gives you the chance which is pretty much always.”

“Got it coach, I’m a short shit, I’ve kinda accepted this.”

DING

The two heavyweights wasted little time going back to where they left off, slamming their fist into their rival’s face. After another minute of barrages, Rohban tucked his forearm in and went for a hard elbow. Sal blocked and countered with a backhand to the ear, kicked Rohban’s leg out from underneath him, and clocked him with a fierce right cross that got the crowd wild. Rohban went to shoot on Sal but, just as coach called for it, the Silverback sprawled on top of his giant opponent, keeping all of his weight down on Rohban’s upper body. As he expected, Rohban flipped backwards in a hope to get Sal off of him, but The Silverback shifted positions in the process and landed on the giant’s side guard.

The giant Raider would have none of it however as he benched and flung Sal across the mat like a rag doll. Sal rolled to his feet and charged again like a feral dog on all fours. He pounced on Rohban, eating a huge right hand that sent him face first to the mat but failed to stop Sal’s haymaker. Sal sat out to avoid being kneed in the side and escaped, getting hit with an illegal elbow to the back of his head.

The referee called for time out and pulled Rohban away and warned him that any more shots like that will be points deducted from his score. Sal shook his head to clear his vision when the referee asked if he was still good.

“Yeah, I’m fine ref. Just call ‘time in’ and let me get him back,” he growled. When the ref called time in, Sal dodged a snap front kick by ducking under it and trapping the massive limb on his shoulder. Sal dragged Rohban closer and trapped his head and arm as well before propelling himself backward and slamming “Lockjaw” with an explosive suplex that made the crowd roar at deafening levels.

Watching Sal in action made Kara feel even more alive than usual. When she and Sal were going through his playlist for music, she remembered what Sal had said before she had to leave. Funny enough, it sounded a lot like his entrance song’s second verse. ‘When things ever seem rough, or you just want some encouragement, just think of me and let me self-empower you. I can show you how to use doubt as fuel and turn it into gunpowder. If you feel you need to hit a wall, just do it; ball up that little fist, cock it back, put your all into it and go through it.’

As she let her thoughts drift, the brawler below found himself at odds with the reach disadvantage, taking punch after punch from his opponent. When Rohban cocked his arm back, Sal stepped off of Rohban’s knee and bashed him open with a mighty elbow.

“That’s it! You cut him! He’s cut! Rohban’s hurt!” Coach Wilson shouted. Sal took a split second to see where he’d cut him and immediately pounced like a panther. He threw bomb after bomb into the face of “Lockjaw” Krigma, opening the gash even more and getting a spray of it on his face. “Get after it! NOW!”

“Get him Sal, get him!” Alexis and company cheered.

[Cue War by Vince DiCola]

“There you go! Sal’s got him on the ropes! Go Sal, GO! SWING FOR THE FENCES!” Kara shouted in excitement, mimicking Sal’s punches and elbows while the young man below alternated head to body shots with kicks to the legs. Even when the bell rang, the two refused to separate and continued to to brawl. Rohban grabbed Sal by the throat and Sal threw him to the ground. To say there was bad blood between the rivals was an understatement; they were practically out for it at this point. The ref, coaches, assistants, and even some their teammates had to jump in and break it up.

“This isn’t just a fight of skill anymore…” Casey said, watching the two gladiators claw to tear into each other like wild animals.

“It’s an all-out personal war down there,” Petra finished, inching closer to Bomber to let people pass and steal some popcorn. Bomber didn’t care, however; he was just happy to show Petra another time of what some of his nights were like. Even if he was oblivious to the green-haired girl adjacent to them that eyed him like a ribeye steak, the whole reason why Petra scooted closer to him to begin with.

“A clash of the titans?” Ernest cowered when he thought Bomber was gonna smack him until he said, “Y’know what, that’s actually pretty accurate.”

Sal sat on the stool, chomping at the bit to finish what he’d just started. Coach Wilson got in front of him and added fuel to the fire, “You did it! He’s worried now! You hurt him! You see? You see? You cut him open! He’s not a machine, he’s not indestructible, HE’S A MAN! Keep trucking through it and it give it all you got! No pain!”

“No pain,” Sal echoed. “No pain.”

“Alright, now take it to him!”

Back and forth the two heavyweights clashed, barreling into each other with chops, punches, and elbows while Sal attempted to mix it up with kicks to bring the big man down to size. Rohban created space with a shoving front kick that sent Sal to the other side of the mat. Sal sprang to his feet in a frenzy and charged ahead only to eat a huge right hand that knocked him down. Sal immediately shot up and attempted a double-leg shot, but felt one of Rohban’s frying pan-sized hands catch him by the chest and throw him back. Sal caught himself and pedaled all four limbs like a pitbull on the edge of the mat, taking Rohban down with a vicious slam. The taller fighter punched him square in the jaw as the round ended.

At the bell of the next round, Coach Wilson called out after Sal, “FINISH FUCKING HIM THE FUCK UP!”

The ref looked over at Wade, “Language please, coach.”

“SUCK A COCK!”

Sal was on the receiving end of a beating, being kept at bay with several two-punch combos. Sal slipped inside and went to punch, getting tied up in a clinch and trading knees while pummeling out. He eventually found his opening and stumbled Rohban with an uppercut and rib shot. Rohban ended the round with shoving Sal out of bounds. Sal sprinted back in tackled him to the ground just before the bell rang.

“Damn, the guy knows how to use his hands,” Aaron nodded, impressed, forcibly ignoring Kara’s glare and shouting, “Keep throwing those bombs, kid!”

“DON’T GO DOWN!” Alexis and Amy shouted just as Wade did from the corner when Sal was blasted once more with a cinder block-sized fist to the face.

The 8th round, Sal faked a double-leg and trapped Rohban in a bear hug. Rohban struggled to break free, using his reach to strike down on Sal’s body. Sal squeezed even tighter before driving him straight to the floor, satisfied to feel a few cracks. The Silverback had Rohban right where he wanted him, raining hell down in the form of body shots right to the injured ribs. Finding himself down, Rohban grabbed Sal by the face and jammed his thumbs into his eyes, relishing in the shout of mixed rage and pain.

“Open your eyes ref! Take the point away-Thank you!” Kara shouted, clapping as the ref called timeout and deducted a point from Carver City’s Lockjaw, who pleaded his case on deaf ears. This was a side of her that her family hadn’t expected to see, “Yeah, you wanna fight dirty, expect that to happen you punk!”

For the next two rounds it was nothing but back and forth brutality. Sal’s reopened scar above his right eye was bleeding as well as his lip. It was nothing compared to Rohban, who bore a large cut across the side of his head from a nasty jumping roundhouse and a broken nose. Each hit that landed covered more and more of the mat in blood to the point that the cleanup crew were told to not even bother between rounds. Ciara stole a glance at her cousin, her face etched in pain and worry while she wrung her hands. Alexis reached over and put a hand of comfort on her daughter’s shoulder, getting a look of gratitude from Kara. ‘Sheesh, and I thought I was worried about Jason’s fight. I can hardly imagine how she’s feeling with the war down there.’

The tenth was especially hard, as both scraped and clawed less like people and more like rival predators over a kill. Sal caught a right jab and hit it in the elbow with his own before backhanding Rohban in the ear and stunning him. The following armbar attempt resulted in him being slammed to the floor multiple times for his troubles.

Round 11 was a war of attrition, both wrestling for control while trading body shots. Sal continued to target the injured ribs of his opponent, evident by the grunts and roars of pain from Rohban. Sal kept pressing the offensive until he felt a solid shot to the nether region that crumpled him like a piece of paper.

“MOTHERFUCKER! ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?” Kara exploded wrathfully. Ciara thought she was going to have to restrain her with that outburst.

A familiar voice behind her cackled, “Ahahaha serves you right, you freak!” Calvin was then frozen in place by the glares of the Paranormal Research Club and the Landis Family. “Oh...shit.”

“That’s it, I’ve had it with your-” Bomber made to lash out at the boy, but a blur beat him to the punch...literally.

THWA-CRUNCH “AH! Again?!”

Kara kept her fist clenched, “You have 5 seconds to get out of here before you really get hurt and I won’t stop Sal this time.”

As the bloodied teen scurried down the steps, the crowd saw Sal nod the official off to continue the round. Not one step further and Rohban shot a cannonball of a left hand that knocked Sal down and back almost ten feet. The ref counted to 7, but Sal continued to stagger and stand back up, much to the giant’s chagrin. Another barrage and Sal was down to a knee before being blasted by a side kick right on the chin. Blood spewed from his mouth as he spiraled to his back..

“NO!” Kara cried, but Ciara nudged her and pointed, “Don’t worry, look.”

Rohban tackled Sal’s downed form with a punch aimed straight for his face, but this time Sal had a trap planned, and set it in motion. He wasn’t expecting Sal to catch him halfway through in a triangle. He fought to break free, but the Silverback was the one putting ‘Lockjaw’ on lockdown as he trapped the left arm. Sal grabbed his foot and brought the whole leg over Rohban’s left shoulder and locked the limb in a triangle instead. With a turn of his wrist, he pulled and squeezed, wondering if Rohban would tap out before-

SNAP

‘Nope.’

“ARGH!” Lockjaw was locked down in a Bicep Slicer and refused to submit, instead resigning himself to a broken arm that sounded like a gunshot. Even then, he refused to stop fighting despite the ref’s insistence. Sal came charging out of the gate, landing powerful shot after another square in Rohban’s face.

“He can do it...HE CAN DO IT!” Kara was bouncing so high off the ground that the others were almost certain she’d sprout wings and start flying. All the same though, they hooted and hollered, cheering on the small gladiator below that they called a friend. For every shot landed, he was forced back by two counterpunches. But Sal never relented, pressing the assault more and more until Rohban had no idea where he was.

Maximum effort. No arbitrary percentage would determine how much you put in or should put in. Give it your all, and you will always find a way to win. Coach drilled that into their heads from day one, and now it rang more true than ever. Sal put every last ounce of energy he could muster up into a series of knee shots to the injured ribs. When Rohban blocked the knee, he took a shot that poured fresh blood from the gash on the side of his head. Sal slunk back and thrust both fists into his gut like a pair of pistons and lifted him off the ground. Wasting little time, he clinched with Rohban and launched a jumping knee into his sternum.

“Lockjaw” would have none of it however as he threw Sal once more across the mat, albeit with less force than he did before. Sal knew he was fading, and he had to finish this now. The titans of Hellview and Carver City circled each other, Sal haggardly and Rohban with a massive limp, looking for the final blow. Finally the two charged with roars that would make a lion think twice about attacking, their fists cocked back like hammers to guns. At the middle of the blood-soaked mat, Rohban’s knee gave in and buckled, which gave Sal all the more leverage he needed. He leaped off the down limb, and everything seemed to happen in slow-motion.

‘NOW!’ his mind screamed. He shot into the air, simultaneously kneeing Rohban in the jaw and getting hit in the thigh with a grenade of a haymaker. His free leg feinted a kick, adding more propulsion to the nuke he dropped on the infamous “Lockjaw’s” temple. The towering Rohban Krigma fell weightlessly to the floor on impact.

“SUPERMAN PUNCH!” Kara, Bomber, and Kerry whooped as the others all shocked beyond words save for one: “DAAAAAAAAAAAAAMN!”

Sal landed on the mat with his knee and fist supporting, prompting Coach Wilson to clap and laugh, “Woo, superhero landing!”

The ref stepped in front of Sal as he called the knockout; it didn’t take much to convince him that a ten-count was unnecessary...one only needed to hear the rumbling snores from the blood-soaked Rohban to gather that he’s unconscious. Kara was jackhammering in place so fast one would think she was floating, “HE WON! HE WON!”

“Oi, Krigma? You got knocked the fuck out!” Kerry taunted, massaging his leg just a bit after watching how the pillar-like leg of the giant buckled.

“The referee has called a stop to this contest at 4 minutes, 59 seconds of the 12th round-”

Sal’s eyes darted to the clock on the scoreboard, ‘Holy shit, we almost went into overtime again!’

“-With the winner by knockout…’The Silverback,’ Sal Gutierrez!”

[end music]

The scoreboard now read 26-24, with Hellview coming out victorious. Sal’s body felt like it was shrinking into itself, his head being slammed into with a jackhammer, and dropped to a knee. Two of his celebrating teammates rushed over and took an arm each, helping him off the mat. Looking over his shoulder, Rohban was being helped onto a stretcher and carried out while officials debated on what to do with the butcher’s station of a mat. Painfully craning his neck to the left, he saw the coaches shaking hands as custom, but could hear the trash talk.

“Your team got lucky again, Wade. You and I both know it.”

“The only thing saltier than your bitch ass is the Dead Sea, Francis. Now do yourself a favor and stop calling yourself Ajax unless you plan on cleaning up your squad, you double-deckered pig fart.”

“SAL!”

“Kara-OOF!” He felt the small girl knock the wind out of him with running hug. He didn’t notice it at first, but she was shaking.

“A-are you ok?”

“Ah, it’s nothing that hasn’t happened before. Better question is, are you?

“JASON!”

Jason heard his name called, the voice unmistakable. “CIARA!”

“JASON!” Forcing her way from where they were seated, Ciara tried to rush over to Jason. ‘Move, people, before I make you fucking move!’

Despite his eyes being swollen shut, he could’ve sworn he saw her pushing and shoving through the crowd to meet him, and he just couldn’t help but grin like an idiot. “CIARA!”

“JASON!”

“CIARA!” A reporter tried to interview him, but he turned them down immediately, “I’ve had enough stuff thrown in my face for the night, ma’am. Another time, please.”

“JASON!”

And as he felt her get closer, darkness fell over as he felt his body hit the floor...

-------

Jason woke up with a gasping start, finding himself in a medical wing. Looking around he saw flowers, food, a few blankets…

”Wait….” That was when he felt weight on his left arm practically holding it in place. A smile crept on his face as Ciara snored quietly on his arm. He wanted to turn more towards her, but the sharp pain he felt in his arm told him there was an IV drip in place. He looked once more at the large whiteboard on the wall facing him, reading just what exactly got him here.

‘Dehydration, severe swelling over both eyes, broken ribs...fun.’ He mused, until he read the one next door to his. ‘Concussion, dehydration, swelling and laceration over right eye, laceration on chin, sprained ankle, sprained #2 and #3 fingers of left hand, and bruised knuckles on both hands. Who the hell got all of that?’

“And the Arizona Kid’s finally awake.”

‘Why am I not surprised?’ “Damn, I missed quite a fight didn’t I?”

Sal laughed, “You didn’t miss it, you just blocked so much with your face that you couldn’t watch.”

Jason’s attention was then caught by movement on Sal’s bed, and under a pink blanket he saw the familiar head of white hair moving from underneath it. Sal’s face turned a light shade of red when an arm draped across and squeezed him, as well as when he noticed the look on Jason’s face.

“They came during the night. You were out cold, but they were in a hurry to see us here after the match and absolutely refused to leave. Their folks and Mr. Earl came with them to check on us, and I guess Coach came with them. I don’t remember very well while they were stitching me up, but I guess someone was in the area that had Coach, Mr. Landis, and Mr. Earl storm down the hallway.”

“Who was it?”

Sal looked down at the young woman nuzzled in the crook of his arm, taking a deep breath before he said venomously, “Denim.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, apparently he was so impressed with our fights he wanted to talk to us in person. You can imagine how that went.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah...wow.” Sal looked down at the snoring Kara, then over at Jason to see him resting his hand on Ciara’s. “Y’know, we really are winners, aren’t we?”

“More than just the fight,” Jason grinned, extending a fist to Sal who bumped it with his own, bruises and all.

-------

A day and a half later

Sal and Jason were over at the Landis household after being cleared to leave the infirmary, the two of them invited over for a celebratory dinner. Sal had volunteered to barbecue and made ribs, using a recipe his dad had taught him before he left to Amoca while Amy and Alexis made the sides. There were plenty of laughs at Jason’s expense when the subject of his training was brought up, but in the end Aaron was impressed that Jason stuck through with it and how Sal acclimated so quickly from the States lower elevation and cooler climate. At the end of the night, they all went to the garage, where Jason found the door was coated in padding.

“Uh…” He turned to find everyone else looking at him, their arms behind their backs and all trying not to smile.

“So Jay,” Amy started, “the reason we’re in here is to help you on a little bit of basic combat training that Sal told us you’ve been struggling with.”

Jason looked at Sal. ‘Struggling with? What do they-’ He paled as it dawned on him, ‘-oh no.’

“No, you aren’t!” He pointed an accusatory finger at Sal, “You didn’t!”

“Tonight we’re going to show you,” each of them produced a pair of dodgeballs from behind their backs, including Ciara, “how to dodge.”

Only one thing came to mind as the onslaught of balls approached his face…

‘~How did this happen to me? I made my mistakes-~’

[SpanishBulldog63]

Face Down

"Hearts aren’t always red...they’re black and blue."

A couple of weeks had passed since his team had edged out Carver City in their first duel match for the season, and Wade couldn’t be happier with this season’s squad. The lightweight division had seen an incredible leap in improvement with Jason Carter currently at 12-0 after the last two tournaments, pushing the incumbent fighters to train harder than before. As of now, the lightweights of Hellview High were collectively ranked with Jason currently sitting in the top 3 in the individual rankings. His heavyweights sat at number 1 by a mile and a half, and it was little surprise that Sal was ranked number 1. Even less of a surprise was who was right behind him on the leaderboards: Rhoban Krigma

“If these two square off for the title, it’s going to be another bloodbath,” the coach chuckled, remembering when he was Sal’s age going for the lightweight championship like it was yesterday. It was a stormy night, winds strong enough to throw people off their feet and nonstop rain to match. He did his due diligence of praying to Niita, the Goddess of War before stepping foot inside the stadium of 102,479 people, ignoring the cameras, raucous fans, and anxious pro-team scouts when he marched down to the elevated and reinforced mat. The bout went into Double Overtime before a fade from The Shade set up a combo that then-champion William “Bill the Butcher” Cutting V failed to evade.

“Hey coach, you good?” the voice of Jean Kastel snapped him out of it.

“Huh?” ‘Oh right, it’s still practice time…’ “Yeah, just thinking back to when I was fighting at your age here.”

“All of four score and seven years ago?” the arrogant young man joked.

“...Alright maggot, I may be bald, but that’s out of choice. Want to keep mocking my age when I’m only 41 then-” Jean opened his mouth to say something but got cut off by a thought. “Hey Sal and Jason, you guys looking for a punching bag?”

The sparring pair paused mid-strike, Sal an inch away from connecting a left cross and Jason’s roundhouse ready to meet Sal’s block. Both looked at the coach, then Jean, then at each other in wordless agreement before looking back at Wade and saying, “Sure, send him over coach.”

Jean paled as though Death itself leered over his shoulder, “Wait, what?”

“You heard them...unless you wanna run laps for the rest of the day, you better learn how to take a hit, Mr. KO’d 10 seconds into the first round.”

“But-” Jean tried to plead before the coach grabbed him by the back of the neck and shoved him right into the open arms of Jason, who’s vastly improved grappling showed when he threw Jean down with a belly-to-belly suplex. Wade gave a hearty laugh as he observed the rest of the team spar. ‘Seems like just yesterday Jim and I were here to begin coaching this program back to life after he lost his arm...’ a knot formed in his gut, ‘just after he and Samantha got hitched.’

A chill ran up his spine and his stomach turned as he recalled the 9-foot tall, two-legged and snake-headed alien that attacked Jim just before his Amocan Heavyweight Championship fight with Franco “Diesel” Jora in Fortress City’s Bastille Stadium. Just as James was about to enter the ring, the alien dropped from the ceiling and pounced on the champion. James did his best to fight back despite the enormous size difference, but it wasn’t enough. He managed to land a good shot that knocked teeth from two of its four mandibles when the grey scaled beast clamped its mouth over his left arm and ripped it out of its socket with a sickening pop. He and Sam had front row seats to the whole thing and were doused in the blood spraying from the wound like a fountain. It took him hours to clean the blood off... it took a while longer for Samantha to mentally recover from the experience.

It wasn’t just the memory of his then-best friend getting his arm ripped right out and showering the people in front with gore that got him...it was also the chain of events that happened afterwards. Jim was forced into a retirement he never wanted and just as quickly as the alien creature made short work of his arm, depression and frustration took over. He and Sam had gotten married a couple of years after high school, and things between them were great...at least, at first.

--------------

“Hey Wade, can I ask you something?”

The two had met at a coffee shop downtown after Sam called him in the morning. He’d just finished making himself breakfast when she had called, and if he didn’t know any better, she’d just finished crying. Sam was always tough under her ever-present cheerfulness and heart of gold, so for something, or someone, to get her crying, it had to be bad. The only time he can recall seeing her cry before was their 4th year in Hellview high school when he’d been jumped by some of the fighters from Dante High. She was there when he woke up, tears running down stains from earlier in the night.

“Sure Sam.”

She fidgeted her fingers as she asked “How bad a temper does James have?”

‘What happened?’ “Not really. I mean, whenever he lost he’d take it really personally, but rarely got short with other people. Most of the time he’s too proud for his own good. Why?”

She stood silent, her lips pursed and her eyes averting he his watching gaze. “Sam?”

“He’s gotten really...exasperating lately. I know he had difficulty adjusting to his prosthetic arm, and sometimes still does, but I think he’s running out of ways to cope with it. This morning he was cleaning up around the apartment when he stepped on a shoe. lost his balance, and face planted against the wall. I went to help him up and he just lashed out at me, shouting that he wouldn’t have fallen if I did more around the place and I basically do nothing to help him. Then he stormed out after calling me a useless, space-wasting tramp. I don’t understand where this is all coming from, all I’ve done is take care of him ever since...you know.”

Wade was stunned that Jimmy, who had been nothing short of loving towards Sam, would belittle who was really the only one taking care of him. “I don’t know what to tell you Sam. That’s all you really can do, but Jimmy sounds like he’s being unreasonable. It sounds like he’s suffering from being cooped up all the time, to be honest. The guy’s always been on-the-go, so that’s probably the thing that he’s adjusting to the hardest.”

“A-are you sure?”

“Positive! Hell, I have an interview with Hellview High for their Fighting team’s head coaching position, maybe he can tag along for an assistant coach position?”

Sam was elated at the proposal, “That’s a great idea, Wade! I’ll have him give you a call when I get home, I’ll just say Amy told me about it and that she told you too.”

Wade mulled it over, weighing any possibilities of a slip in story, “Works for me. I can swing by and pick him up.”


RING-RING

“Who could be calling me at this...hour?” he paused when he saw that it was Sam calling, knowing that the last several times they’d talked were in times of emergency or help. The last time they’d spoken, he’d offered to help her in any way he possibly could, including going to court with her as support.

“Hey Sam. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I was just leaving work and thought I’d give you a call. I take it you’re still at practice?”

Just as she finished her sentence, the sound of one of his fighters shouting “No no no NOOO!” before being slammed to the ground, as if to say it for the coach, echoed. “Yup. Just a few more minutes here and then I’m heading home myself. Jason Carter, that boy your niece hangs around with, is a natural. It’s almost like looking at a younger, imported, little bit shorter version of me.”

“Are you saying he’s an import and you’re, what, some classic muscle car?”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not, but I’m totally a 1967 Shelby Mustang GT500.”

“Oh jeez, you’re still hung up on that car?” Sam laughed. “Well, the reason I called besides saying hi was to see if maybe you were free later on tonight?”

“I can’t think of much I’ve really got to do tonight, so I’d say I’m free. Why, what’s going on?”

“Nothing I just...wanted to catch up. We haven’t really talked to each other since-”

“Yeah...yeah.” ‘It may not be anywhere as painful for me as it is for her, but dammit I should’ve done more...should’ve…’ “So, uh...any ideas where?”

“Well, I was actually thinking about the place you took me to for 5th year prom?”

Wade was equal parts perplexed and humored. “All these years, and you still remember that place?” Wade chuckled.

“Well yeah!” she exclaimed. “The steak was amazing and they made delicious cocktails. Why not do dinner again at a familiar spot?”

“Because I always took you for the adventurous, try-it-as-we-go type. I mean, that’s how we found it in the first place if I remember right. You and me, walking back from Spire Sports Bar and Grill when we saw it. What was it called again?” He snapped his fingers as the name came to mind, ”Top of the World, there we go! It was big on steaks too from what I remember, so figuring out what we want to eat should be easy.”

“Says the guy who took five minutes debating on soup or salad,” he heard Samantha chuckle over the phone.

“Hey, I had to cut a couple pounds before the next fight, you can’t blame me for being careful. Besides, you’re the one who likes to fish croutons out of her salad like the Japanese fish for whales.”

Sam laughed, “Oh shut up! I’ll see you tonight!”

The sound of her laughter brought back a flood of memories; many of them good, but for a stretch of time, he could remember the time when her entire family was off on a “critical family matter.” The gut-checking conversation they had before...the look on her face...

“Wade, can you make a girl a promise? Don’t say goodbye. I hate goodbyes.”

------------

“Welcome back to Hellview High, Mr. Wilson, Mr. Denim. I take it the drive here wasn’t a problem?” The Athletic Director, Dillinger Jones, was beaming as the two men arrived at his office for the interviews

“Not in the slightest barring a couple of speedfreaks nearly causing an accident. How are you doing today, sir?”

“Great, and please, we don’t need to be so formal. It’s not everyday you have legends walk into your office for a job on your campus. Legends who are Hellview alumni, no less.”

“Just blood, sweat, and tears shed and who knows how many broken bones. I say why the hell not?”

Wade elbowed him, “Dude, c’mon.”

“Ah, fuck you ya killjoy.” James tried to wave it off, but Wade just glared at him. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry.”

Wade shook his head and looked back at Dillinger, “I’d like to apologize for his behavior,” James unsubtly flipped him off as he scratched his cheek,”normally he’s well-behaved at interviews, but I guess he’s suffering from house fever.”

Dillinger shrugged, “It’s not the most unprofessional I’ve seen at an interview. Francis Freeman kept trying to overspeak and turn the interview on me. When I wouldn’t have that nonsense, he stormed out saying Carver City offered him a better deal anyway. The cherry on top of that had to be ‘say my name.’ Guy’s a narcissistic character, that one.”

Both of the coaching candidates laughed. “Leave it to Ajax to waste people’s time. Bring back any memories, Wade?”

“Oh yeah, plenty of times he’d stay in the clinch and try to knee me to death,” the lightweight legend chuckled as he remembered the last time Francis tried that strategy ending with the poor bastard getting thrown down and caught in a painful heel hook.

Minutes passed as the two were asked questions regarding methods, ideologies, and run-of-the-mill interview questions. Wade had to elbow or kick James to get him to behave during the process many more times than he would have liked, let alone should have. As the two shook hands with the director and were ready to head back out, Dillinger quickly called out, “Wade...a quick word alone before you leave?”

“Uh, sure?” He looked back at Jim who seemed to be just a little annoyed, “Wait for me in the car yeah?”

James waved him off, “Yeah yeah, no problem Shade.”

When James was out of sight he re-entered the office, “What’s up?”

The Director rubbed his eyes and bridge of his nose, “I understand that Mr. Denim is your friend, and indeed he has the job for the assistant coaching position, but I want to make this crystal clear: if he continues his domestic situation at home with his wife-”

Wade’s eyes shot open and his heart plummeted. ‘His what?!’

“-I will have no choice but to fire him. These young kids look up to men like you two, pioneers in this amazing sport, and we cannot have them thinking that such conduct is right under any circumstance. I hope you understand my concern.”

“I do. As a matter of fact, if it’s all the same to you, I want to be the one to do it. The Landises have always been more than kind to me, so this news between Jimmy and Sam...it comes as a shocker to me.” ‘More like a knife being twisted in my gut.’

“Understood. If and when it happens, you have my permission to fire him from the staff.”

Wade nodded at the man, “Thank you.”

With each step from the office to his car, he could feel his blood boiling and an urge to absolutely thrash James into the asphalt outside begin to rise. What was going on that Sam didn’t want to tell him, because it was obvious now that it was more than just adjusting to that prosthetic arm. ‘Explains why Sam was tear-stained that day...but I never figured James to be like that...not in a million years.’ The thought of the white haired woman brought him him out of his murderous stupor...if he attacked James, Sam would never forgive him for harming her husband. ..

When he got in the car, he did nothing but drum his fingers on the steering wheel. After a solid minute, James asked, “Everything alright Wade?”

The new head coach chewed on the inside of his cheek for a second, “Is everything alright over there?”

“...I’m not following-”

“Don’t bullshit me, Jim,” Wade swiftly cut him off. “What. Is going on. At the house?”

“Nothing is going on. Why?”

“If there was, would you tell me?”

“Has Sam been talking to you? Where is this coming from?”

Wade gripped the wheel tight, “No, but I want you to know that you’re on a tight leash because there’s…” ’Be tactful Wade’ “rumors going around. One fuck-up, and you’re done. But we’ve been friends for ages, so if something’s going on, man, you know you can tell me.”

James scrutinized him for a second then scoffed, “Yeah okay, just take me home.”

----------

Wade did his best to shake the memory free as he drove down the court to Kate’s house. His own home was nice, but the houses of the neighborhood made it pale in comparison. ‘Some things never change,’ he mused with a smile. He remembered all the times he’d run down this street to stop by and hang out with the Landis and Earl families, the poker games, the bonfire-lit kickbacks, and the times Sam would ask a thousand questions about the lifestyle of a fighter. He was honestly surprised she’d never joined the team with as much enthusiasm and energy as she had. Instead she took up the position of the team’s stats girl so she can have the best seat in the house.

With the car parked and turned off, he walked up the three concrete stairs to the door, admiring the clean banister that connected to the stairs and the adjacent porch. ‘Well Wade, whatcha waiting for?’

Knock knock

“Who’s there?” he heard from inside. ‘Oh you adorkable little smartass...’

“I’m thinking.”

“I’m thinking who?”

He chuckled, “I’m thinking I might go enjoy the food and drinks by myself since you want to keep playing jokes.”

The sound of running footsteps was all he heard next when Sam bum rushed the door, “H-hey, let’s not get hasty there! Besides, the reservation’s in my name, so good luck getting that seat Wade.”

He knew she was excited and was bound to dress to impress, but the coach was speechless for a split second. Her white hair was in a neat bob cut, and she was dressed in a black dress shirt and blue jeans with flat dress shoes. Stuttering nonsense, he finally found his words “I’d have just said you’re running late.”

Samantha gasped in horror, “You wouldn’t!”

“Nah, you’re right. That’s just messed up, and besides, we haven’t done anything together in how long?”

Sam clicked her tongue with a smile of her own, “Sap.”

“Troublemaker.”

“Shade.”

“You look nice by the way....Specter.” If the complement didn’t leave her speechless, then her old nickname sure did. At first, it was the team’s name for spectators who showed up on a regular basis, but as the two of them got closer, the name stuck in order to bounce off of Wade’s nickname like it was their theme. Like the ghosts of war, the two were never far from each other. And of course, that meant she paid close attention to his matches. He remembered very vividly the old ‘ghoul-friend’ joke tossed her way one day. The person responsible for it learned firsthand not to take Sam’s kindness for granted in an arm-breaking way. But now after years of casually throwing barbs at each other, she couldn’t find a single name to throw back at him, and he laughed, “I win.”

Samantha pouted in a way not unlike her nieces, “No fair, using my old nickname like that!”

“Well it worked, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, but...but...ugh! You owe me a drink!” she pointed at Wade as he walked her to the car and opened the door. “Oh my, what a gentleman!” she snarked.

“You know it,” he grinned as he closed her door and got in. “Now let’s go get our grub on before the wait’s an hour long!”

--------------

Twenty extra minutes of highway traffic later, Wade and Sam made it to the Top of the World on the other side of town. The two of them made it there just in time before a rush suddenly hit the restaurant. The wait for their table was still about twenty minutes, but talking to each other and the other patrons made the time fly. Not long after that, Sam got her drink, a Crown Royal-based cocktail called Weekend on The Beach, and the food came not long after. Wade ordered a 16oz sirloin with a fully loaded baked potato, grilled shrimp, and a lobster bisque on the side, and Sam ordered an 8oz filet mignon but settled for a salad over grilled shrimp to go with her own baked potato.

For almost an hour and a half, the two ate, drank, and shared their stories. For the last fifteen minutes though, Wade couldn’t help but notice something off between them, and it wasn’t long before Sam picked up on it. ‘Is everything okay, Wade? If something’s wrong with your food, I’ll flag the waiter down.”

“It’s not that, it’s just...I envy you, y’know that?” Sam’s head tilted in confusion while he continued, “Here I am looking my age, and you look like you’re still in college. Makes me feel like some old creep.”

“If it makes you feel better, we’re still the same age.”

“...you realize that doesn’t make me feel better, right?” Wade semi-deadpanned

Sam shrugged, “Yeah, but it’s funny watching you squirm about looking your age. You used to never be so self-conscious about how you looked.”

Without thinking, he blurted “Only around you.”

Silence fell between them. Years of unspoken words and feelings, long pent up, were now being spoken silently between them. The waiter came by and refilled their glasses with fine red wine before Samantha broke the silence, “I never stopped caring for you, Wade.”

One skipped beat...two skipped beats...“Then why did you go?

“Why didn’t you fight harder for me to stay?” she shot back.

Wade was rarely one to lose words, but Sam was one of the few who could match him retort for retort. “It took me a while to find you when you and the others weren’t there for graduation or anything afterwards like Grad Night. But I saw how happy you were with James-” Sam visibly flinched at the name,”- and with as long as you were gone for, doing whatever it was that you were doing without even saying goodbye, you deserved to be happy. I mean, I remember how big a fan of his you were as well as mine. I couldn’t bring myself to shatter that. As much as I loved you, I couldn’t be that selfish, not with you.”

“Wade…” Sam put her hand on top of his as it lazily stirred through the lobster bisque, “the things I did, the things I’ve seen, things that you should nor could not even know exist, I fought and won so that you could fight and win. But sometimes you just can’t say goodbye, because if you don’t say goodbye you won’t really be gone. You just won’t be there right now.”

“...Oh come on, your hair is nowhere near red enough to be Carolina’s!” His grin lasted all but a second, “But, she was always your favorite and I get what you're saying. But we didn’t really have much of non-goodbye, you and I,” Wade pointed out. “You told me you’d be gone for a while to take care of something, said it’d be better if we took a break for the while. I wasn’t having it, because I was ready to finally ask you out after all that time. The day you left, I wanted to see what I could do, only to be told you had no choice but to do it. You stopped me mid-sentence, telling me ‘Don’t say goodbye. I hate goodbyes.’ Graduation came and went, and no one had heard anything from any of you. Almost a year later, after looking all over for you, and there you were with James, happy and smiling for the first time since before you left. For so long you found yourself between two choices, and you chose. I couldn’t just take that from you like a selfish prick.”

“But it was the wrong choice, Wade. It should have been you...it always should have been you,” Sam sniffed. “Yeah, in the beginning it felt like a dream come true; a fan getting together with the top-ranked heavyweight she idolized, thinking it was the right thing to do after everything she’d just been through. Really it was only because James wasn’t close enough to be affected by our family problem...you were. I couldn’t risk anything happening to you...couldn’t live with myself if it did. If something happened to him, at least I’d be able to cope after the fact.”

‘Holy shit...what did they go through?’ He was taken aback by that outburst, always thinking that Sam married James because of her long-time crush and idolization on the big bruiser. But she did it...out of fear? Not of James, though that happened regardless, but something else...something worse. “What happened to you, all of you, all those years ago?”

Samantha stiffened, “I can’t talk about it, at least not here. When we get back to the house, I’ll try and explain as best as I can.” Eager to change the subject, she quickly asked, “So, what do you wanna do for dessert?”

------------

It had been a long time since the two of them could share stories and laughs like they had tonight, some of which involved Wade’s work stories involving Amy, Alexis, Ciara, Kara, and his two prize-fighters. Sam howled when she heard about Amy’s shenanigans and smiled at Jason getting put through Sal’s training regimen, saying it reminded her of when Wade was just as green as her niece’s charge.

“I remember when you were working on your stamina; you were running about halfway down the street, running in 4 layers of clothes in the summer, until you had a charlie horse and crashed into me. Mom didn’t know whether to yell or laugh.”

“Hey, I paid you and your mom back for those fallen groceries, and got you all tickets on the house. As I recall, you had a great time.”

“Yeah, that one punch that broke your nose definitely made up for all those strawberries that fell on the street.”

Wade put the car in park, and kept laughing, “I’ll never get a break from that, will I?”

“Nope!” she shook her head with a smile.

Wade couldn’t help but smile seeing her be her old self again, infectious smile and all. But looking next door at her old home reminded him of one of the worst phone calls he’d ever gotten, second to when his father died of a work accident. He remembered it all like it was yesterday…

“Alright ladies, pick up the pace! We have 30 minutes left till practice is over, and I want to see you all get this technique down!”

His crop of fighters were learning how to perfect the ninja choke, this time off of a guillotine attempt. A few were nailing it, but the rest of the team was struggling to sink the hold in just right. Many seemed to think it really was just a fancy name for a guillotine choke, while others were getting the mechanics right, but not right enough for the hold to be effective in a match. The ones who failed to sink it in were the most obvious, as their sparring partners punished the wide open midsections. It would’ve been easier to do had James showed up for work today...or at all for the last couple of days.

RING-RING RING-RING

“What the hell?” Aaron was rarely one to call him, so either this was a misdial, or something was happening. ‘I hope not, as much as that’d explain where the fuck Jimmy’s been all day…’ “Hello?”

As soon as he answered, a flood of emotion barreled out of his phone and into his ear. “YOU NEED TO COME GET YOUR FUCKING FRIEND BEFORE I KILL HIM!”

Wade pulled the phone away from his ear for a brief moment before bringing it back, “Slow down there, Aaron. What happened?”

Aaron did anything but slow down. “Did you know he put Sam in the hospital?”

Wade blanched, and his stomach twisted sickeningly on itself. “He what?”

Casey took the phone now while Aaron audibly tried to control himself. “Last night Aaron took the family out, and James and Sam stood behind. Well, about an hour or so later Kate calls me that some big sonuvabitch is sprinting from the house after she heard a commotion from next door. She went to check it out, and their room was a disaster! Everything broken or torn, and she found Sam, just as broken in every sense of the word.”

Wade’s breathing halted. “How is she doing? Is she okay? Is-” he barraged her brother with questions until he quickly stopped him.

“She’s in critical condition. James did a fucking number on her, and I don’t care what caused it on his end, he got what he deserved. If you’re on your way, bring a moving truck, because he’s gotten the boot.”

Wade covered the phone real quick to announce that practice would end early, much to the satisfaction of some and annoyance of many others. ‘The little shits cheering won’t be so excited come next week.’ “Wait, what do you mean he got what he deserved? What’s going on?”

“Well, someone decided to get loaded at the bar and come back to the house. Aaron parked his car around the corner so it’d trick him into thinking no one was home, and when James opened the door, Aaron beat the living shit out of him.”

“...Okay, could you repeat that again, I could’ve sworn you just said Aaron kicked James ass.”

Casey sounded just slightly confused, “But I did.”

“...Aaron? The guy who thought a plastic bat was a weapon to take seriously?”

“Why is that so hard to under...oh. Okay, I see the point you're making now. Well, James is currently out like a light on the driveway, so please hurry with that truck.”

Wade rubbed a finger over his temple, “No problem, Casey. Once this is done, I’ll swing by the hospital and check on your sister...this never should have happened. I should have picked up on this when she told me about the open coaching positions.”

“Don’t blame yourself. Nobody expected them to end up like this, not even me and I’m her brother. But I would give her some time first before you go visit. When James attacked her, she...she…” Casey took a deep breath and breathed out. “I was gonna be an uncle. Wade? Wade you still there?”

While Casey continued to ask for him, he only faintly heard the sound of Wade emptying his stomach, sickened and enraged.

-------------

“Where the hell is he?” Aaron grumbled, stalking back and forth inside the house with a slab of frozen meat pinned to his eye. He, Casey, and Erik were waiting inside, each taking turns to knock James back out whenever he came to. Amy and Alexis took the girls out somewhere for lunch, anywhere away from the house for the time being.

“Can’t be mad at the guy. Poor bastard had to pick up double duty for practice and found out the girl of his dreams, the one who got away, got sent to the hospital by the piece of shit he considered his best friend, almost his brother, for how many years?”

Aaron blinked as he pulled the meat away, revealing a shiny black eye, “You know you’re talking about your sister right?”

“Yeah, except I actually liked Wade for her. You remember how close those two were before everything went to shit?”

“Case’s got a point. Yeah, he’s an absolute smartass and he absolutely loves to mess with people, but the man’s heart was never in the wrong place, especially when it came to Samantha.” Erik heard the sound of a truck around the corner from his spot by the window, “Speak of the devil, he’s here.”

All three of them rushed outside in time to catch a blur leap on a sprawling James Denim, ferocity and fury matched only by the predatory cats in the mountain ranges. James tried to stand up, but Wade immediately shot for his legs and brought him back down, the larger man’s head smacking the driveway. For only the second time in his life, James Denim was completely helpless.

“HOW COULD YOU?! HOW-”

CRACK! His fist caught James in the jaw, a pop sounding off for its dislocation.

“DARE-”

A piece of broken furniture broke itself once more, this time across James’ forehead.

“YOU?!”

The other three men quickly tried to peel him off, but Wade was blood-drunk, furious, and determined to destroy the man he put his neck out for to make her happy. His hands were busted open from the damage he was causing, but he didn’t care; his best friend had just taken everything ever handed to him, the only woman Wade ever cared for, and pummeled it all away. He may have had his issues when he lost his arm, but the depression, the alcoholism...none of it should have been taken out on her, not when all she ever tried to do was help the man she looked up to.

“Wade, take it easy man! Wade!” he heard Aaron shout from behind him as he almost put him in a full-nelson. “We don’t need a murder rap on my driveway, as much as the prick deserves it.”

“C’mon man, he’s out cold!” Casey cried out. He and Erik finally had a hold of his arms and helped Aaron separate the two.

Now that his arms were pulled away, he lashed out with a final kick to his jaw, smiling inside at the teeth on the driveway. Shaking the others loose, he grabbed his phone and called the Athletic Director’s personal cell phone.

“Hey Dillinger, it’s Wade. Just letting you know that James Denim is officially terminated from his assistant coaching position as of now.”

A moment of silence, “Alright, I’ll have the paperwork done by the end of the night. Thank you for handling it, Wade.”

He put his phone away, and immediately started throwing James’ stuff in the back of the U-Haul truck. He told Aaron, Casey, and Erik that if they ever need anything, anything at all, to just give him a call. Aaron invited him to what was supposed to be a family barbecue on Saturday, but Wade declined. He had a tournament to coach that day, and probably wouldn’t be back until the next morning. Casey and Erik offered to compensate him for the truck and missed practice, but that too was declined. They’d always been great people to him, albeit protective of Sam when they were much younger, but what brother wouldn’t be?

“I’ll probably be back later. Keep a beer cold for me?” Before he got an answer, Wade turned the truck on and sped off towards the U-Haul location. When he got there, he dropped it off, got in his car, and drove as far away as he could, ignoring the shouts of shock when the employees found Denim piled up and bleeding in the back with his belongings.

There was a more important place he needed to be.

--------

“You enjoying that dream there, Wade?”

“Huh...oh yeah, great times,” he replied sarcastically.

Sam rubbed his shoulder, “Not really great times, were they?”

Subconsciously rubbing his knuckles Wade chuckled, “Not really, no.”

Sam reached for his hand and grabbed it, “Why don’t you come on inside? I did promise that I’d tell you about...the reason my family and I left.”

Wade smiled as he accepted the offer, “Beauty before Age.”

“Isn’t the saying ‘Age before Beauty?’” Sam chuckled as Wade did a mock bow and gestured towards the door.

“Eh, probably, but it’s accurate: you’re still beautiful, and I still sadly look my age.”

Samantha paused from unlocking the door and shot him a humored glance, “You really know what to say to butter a girl up, don’t ya?”

When the two walked inside, Wade saw that the marshmallow white he remembered was covered up with a mocha brown, and quite a few new pieces of furniture from the last time he’d visited this house. Sam guided him to the den where a pair of couches were set up in an L-shape and a beautifully crafted coffee table rest on the wooden floor. The walls were decorated with pictures of family on one wall, and Kate and Sam’s favorite sports teams’ and athletes on the wall facing towards the tinted window. He couldn’t help but laugh when he noticed the old Amocan Striker team photo on Sam’s side. ‘Damn my hair was a mess back then…’

The two sat adjacently from each other on the couches, and Wade thought for sure he’d sink in and sleep as soon as he sat down, regardless of the cool draft flowing in the house. As he readjusted himself for a better position, Sam cleared her throat, “So, you want to know more about what happened 18 years ago?”

Wade nodded, and she began to recount the events that surrounded her and her family at that time. “You remember how Alexis went missing for a while during Hellview Comic-Con?” The fighter nodded, and Sam continued, “Well, she wasn’t the only one...nearly two hundred other people went missing as well.”

“Explains why Aaron was so damn short-tempered back then. Between that and his mom- ” A thought occurred to him, ”Wait...is that why those O.S. Fucksticks stormed the school for him?”

Sam shook her head, “We don’t know why, even to this day, but it’s always been considered a possibility that they were involved with the Hellview Convention Center Incident. It turned out to be something… much worse.”

“Worse? How worse are we talking here?”

“Wade?”

“Yes?”

“I need you to promise me that what I’m about to tell you is kept secret.”

“Oh… That kind of worse… Alright, lay it on me.”

“You remember the ceremony the Princess threw in our honor after Aaron killed The Visitor?”

“Who doesn’t? I mean, I still doubt Aaron’s claim that he defeated the bitch one-on-one, but you guys deserved it… And then that freaky knight-thing had to go and… Wait, it’s connected to that?!”

Sam nodded, “This is going to be tough to swallow, but... that knight was a servant of the Shadow Empress.”

“The Shadow Empress? The Queen of All Evil? The monster that our parents would tell us stories about to keep us in line when we were younger? That Shadow Empress?”

“... Yes.”

“You’re right, this is a tough pill to swallow. And you still haven’t told me just how this relates to the Convention Center Incident.”

Sam took a deep breath and sighed, “Back in early 2046, we undertook a rescue mission unlike any other to save Alexis from whatever it was that happened that night in 2034.”

“Woah, woah, hold on there. You mean you guys time-traveled?”

She smirked at the memory, “Crazy, I know, but my father did manage to construct a time-machine of sorts. It was about the only time it actually got used, too. Anyway, the plan was simple, and yet it went to absolute hell when they showed up.”

“They?”

“Denizens, beasts of the Void…”

“And subjects of the Shadow Empress,” Wade finished, “I remember the legends.”

“The Denizens tore through nearly everyone there, Wade. And it wasn’t just them, either.” The look on Samantha’s face was one of hesitance, “She was there, Wade. The Shadow Empress was there that night.”

It took a minute for him to process that information, “She was… She was there? That night she was there? How…Why?”

“Why? We still aren’t entirely sure ourselves, but as for how? You have a grief stricken Alchemist from the 19th Century to thank for that, at least we assume, anyway.”

“The 19th Cent-?!”

“Your guess is as good as mine on what she was up to for all of those years.”

“Is she still alive?” Wade couldn’t help but address the elephant in the room.

Sam shook her head, “No. Aaron killed her in October of 2047.”

“... Aaron killed her? I know I jokingly downplay the guy’s fighting skills, but you seriously expect me to believe that Aaron-”

“I’m serious, Wade,” Sam warned in a stern voice that Wade hadn’t heard in a long time.

Wade held up his hands in defense, “Okay, Aaron saved the world twice, got it. But… I don’t remember hearing anything about this… Wait, you said he killed her in 2047… Is that why you guys were avoiding me for the longest while?”

“We didn’t want to get you roped up in that nightmare.”

“Why not? I could’ve held my own.”

“No, believe me, you couldn’t have.”

“Sam, I know you guys don’t like getting people involved in your messes if they don’t have to, but really, I could’ve-”

“No, you couldn’t,” the stern voice was back, “And you want to know how I know, Wade? Because the only other normal person we roped into it ended up getting killed by Nel’s twisted little devotee, and that person was a Detective, Wade.”

Wade winced, “Oh… I’m sorry.” The uncomfortable feeling that began brewing within him was placed aside as his brain zeroed in on how Sam phrased her sentence, “Wait, what do you mean by “only other normal person”? And who’s Nel?”

“Nel Landis is… was the Shadow Empress,” an uncomfortable look appeared on Sam’s face as she began to fidget with her thumbs, “You see, the thing is, she’s a direct ancestor of mine, and also an ancestral aunt of Aaron and Alexis. My family, as it turns out, is rather complicated.”

Wade placed a hand on his chin as he mulled over what he had just been told, “If it were anyone other than you telling me this, Sam, I’d be calling bullshit, but,” he gestured towards her with his free hand, “it’s you telling me this, and you’re not the type to lie. This is a tough pill to swallow.”

Samantha solemnly nodded, “I had difficulties believing it at first, too, but after what ended up happening…”

“What? What ended up happening?”

Sam took a deep breath, “You asked me before what I meant by “only other normal person”. It’s a bit difficult to explain, but out of all of us in the Seventh, it turned out that the only normal people were Jane and Jimmy.”

“Uhh, Jane?”

“You remember, Aaron’s first girlfriend?”

“Oh, right, damn that was so long ago, can’t believe I blanked on her name,” a thought suddenly came to Wade’s head, “Uh, she didn’t, y’know, die or anything, right?”

Sam shook her head, “As far as anyone knows, she’s living out her life back in the States.”

“Well, that’s good to hear, but anyway you were saying that those two were the only normal people in your group? What exactly do you mean by that?”

“It’s… It’d be easier if I just showed you, but I need you to promise me that you won’t freak out too badly.”

“Can’t imagine what it could possibly be, but go ahead. It takes a lot to freak me out.”

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Samantha then changed, her skin becoming a ghostly white, her white hair shifting to a color darker than black, and her blue eyes turning into bright silver, “This is what I mean.”

Wade blinked, “... That’s a good look.”

Suffice to say, that reaction caught Sam more than a little off guard, “I’m sorry what?”

“Look, the way I see it, if it works for Captain Kirk, it works for me,” he couldn’t help but smirk as the flabbergasted girl’s cheeks became redder than a tomato, “So, um, is there a name for this?”

Samantha glanced to the side, her normal complexion returning to her, “Casey came up with the term ‘Darktype’. No one’s really been able to come up with anything better.”

“Figures that nerd would come up with something incredibly dorky like that,” Wade chuckled, “So, I take it your brothers are Darktypes as well?”

She nodded, “Yes. In fact, the only living person in this family that isn’t a Darktype is my mother.”

“So, wait, how exactly does Amy fit in? She married into the family, didn’t she?”

“That’s… not really my place to say.”

“Fair enough.”

THU-THUMP

“The hell was that?” Wade asked, and suddenly he felt the draft in the house once more, but stronger. “If Kate’s here, I guess I should go say hi-”

“No Wade, wait. Kate’s out of town on business, and she never told me anyone would be stopping by the hou- Oh no.” Realization and dread hit her as she and Wade saw the source of the draft: one of the back doors had been kicked in. While it was shut back closed, the destroyed wood by the handle allowed the cool breeze in the house.That’s when the two started hearing the sound of someone inside the house. How did a burglar break into any house on this cul-de-sac, let alone this house?

Footsteps slowly made their way down the stairs while Wade stood in front of Sam. The sunset shadows danced their way across the floor and finally up the visage of the intruder. Even in the faint light, they could make out dark gray hair weathering into lighter shades at some points, eyes that once vibrantly glowed orange were now depressingly dull, but the 6’3”, sturdy and dangerous frame was the one thing to remain the same.

“Well, ain’t this a sight for sore eyes... Wade.”

“Jimmy.”

“James.”

“Jiminator?.”

“It’s James, Wade.”

“Jim-Jam!”

“....I’m not even going to bother addressing that one. And what do we have here…” his eyes lingered just behind his former best friend. “Hello Samantha. It’s been a while.”

“It should have stayed that way and longer, you bastard!”

James ignored her and jabbed “How’s the cheekbone and ribs? The arm looks like it healed pretty well-”

Wade took a step forward, the mocking demeanor gone in a flash. “Either explain why the hell you’re here, or we’re going to have ourselves a problem,” he growled.

“I just came for anything that might be worth staying in that courtroom for more than a minute with you.” Jim said almost too casually, but his words gave him away as they caught him slurring ; he’d been drinking. “But what are you doing here, huh? Wade?”

The coach simply shrugged, “Stuff.”

“What are you doing here?”

“James-” Sam piped up, caution lacing her voice.

“Apparently putting steak and lobster and the rest of a good night aside. Why, what are you doing?”

James wasn’t having it, growling as he stepped forward, “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave. This is between me and-”

“No.” Both turned to see Sam glowering at her former lover, her eyes locked on him and fists clenched so tight her knuckles were white, “You need to leave. Now.”

“Wha-?” James looked like she’d just slapped him. He stepped towards her, but she didn’t move an inch. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Just go, James.”

“What are you talking about?” He looked back and forth between Sam and Wade, “What have you been saying to each other?”

Neither said anything, and this only infuriated him more, shouting in her face, “What have you been doing?”

Wade got in between them and pushed him back, away from Sam. “Jim, you and me are leaving.”

“Oh no, No no no no no, you are the one leaving.” James’ face was now beet red as he rounded on Wade, “You think just because you’re a friend of this bizarro family that you have a say? You actually think you have a say in anything here?”

“You need to step back, crawl back out that little rat hole you made, and go back to whatever backalley bar is letting you sleep by their dumpster.”

“Rat? Rat?!” James snapped and bellowed, “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Someone who’s trying not to kill you!” Wade snarled, counting on Denim’s anger to get the better of him. Jim swung wildly but he ducked under and countered with a right of his own. Even drunk, Jim was dangerous as he clocked Wade with his own right and immediately grabbed him by the collar, lifting him just enough off the ground to pin him against the wall. All the while, Sam was shouting for James to stop, but to no avail as her pleas fell on deaf and angry ears.

“You think you can take my place?” He slammed Wade’s head against the wall of the stairway, “YOU THINK YOU CAN REPLACE ME?”

SLAM

Wade kicked off the wall, sending both of them flying over the couch and crashing through what was a beautiful wooden coffee table. The two jumped back to their feet in an instant, James throwing splinters at Wade and swinging wildly once more when Wade caught his hand and slugged him with an uppercut to the ribs. James kicked him backwards with a front kick and caught him with an uppercut elbow from his robotic arm, splitting him open at the chin. Dazed, Wade was swiftly at James’ mercy when the heavyweight legend grabbed him and threw him down to start a ground-and-pound assault. Wade got one leg up and kicked him off before standing back up, wiping the blood off on his forearm before charging his former best friend. All the while, Sam could only watch on in terror…

---------------

The Landis household, including the forever welcome guests Jason and Sal, were around the corner from dinner themselves. They had all planned to celebrate after the previous weekend’s tournament, where both boys took home the gold. The restaurant they’d gone to was actually the girls’ idea; it was a highly favored place that was reviewed for its meats and seafood. Sal shot Ciara a knowing look when they brought it up; the Darktype was helping keep Jason on track with his diet and regimen, sure, but Sal had mentioned it to her before as a place he’d like to take Kara one night.

Sal nudged Jason with his elbow, “Hey Jason?”

“Yeah?”

The veteran of the two fighters pointed up ahead, “Ain’t that Coach Wilson’s car?”

Jason stopped laughing for just a moment and squinted down the street, “Hey, that is… wait, why is everyone walking out towards your aunt Kate’s house?”

Aaron, Amy, and Alexis stopped joking with Ciara and Kara to see that, sure enough, their family members were running out of their homes towards Kate’s. Just as their phones started ringing, Aaron honked the horn to let them know to clear a path for him to park in his driveway. When they got out, they could hear the sound of furniture breaking and Sam shouting amidst what sounded like animals fighting to the death.

“No! Stop! STOP!” they all could hear her cry out from inside.

“SAMANTHA!” Aaron ran from the car, Sal and Jason only half a step behind him when the crashes and shouts got louder. When they reached her lawn, the front window exploded as two bodies, a smaller one tackling a slightly larger one, went sailing out in a hail of glass and wood, their momentum sending them through the wooden banister. The bodies rolled on top of one another, neither pausing for a second in their assault on the other. When they finally came to a halt, everyone glared as James had full mount and started to wail on Wade.

Wade caught the flesh arm as he dodged another shot aimed towards his face and wiggled out of the mount to bottom half-guard. He trapped it in a kimura lock, cranking the hold as hard as he could even with a metallic fist hammering down on his side and spine. When he felt his rib crunch, Wade let go and swung back at Jim’s face and damaged limb.

Samantha, who ran out of the house when the fight spilled onto the lawn, tried her best to break it up and pull James off of Wade. Without looking and only feeling the contact on his shoulder, James swung backwards and caught Sam in the face. With a primal shout of fury, Wade reached up to grab a piece of the wooden banister and cracked James across the face as if it were a club and he was a baby seal. He took advantage and flipped the table on the ‘Marauder of the North,’ pinning him down and slamming his fists and elbows down on his face.

James got a leg in between them and kicked him off, forcing him to fight on his feet. Wade, however, knew much better than to fight to James’ strength and rushed him once more, bowling him back over to the curb and into Kate and Sam’s garbage cans. James grabbed what he could and attempted to bludgeon Wade with a broken brick, to no avail. He tossed the brick at his face and missed just as Wade slipped past his guard and slugged him right in the chin. James quickly recovered and shot a successful double-leg takedown on him. Once again, Wade found himself between a rock and a hard place in this fight, eating lefts and rights as though they were candy. A peak to his right showed him an equalizer and, just as James grabbed him by the throat and cocked his metallic arm back for the final blow, he grabbed the aluminum trash lid and slammed it across James’ head like Captain America or a Spartan of old.

James collapsed into the mess they made, bleeding all over from the damage that was done. Spitting out a mouthful blood, he haggardly breathed “You backstabbing piece of shit. You honestly think this family of freaks accepts you?” He started to laugh, “Then again, I guess they would since none of them really have the muscle to save their asses.”

“Really, because you got your drunk ass kicked by Aaron,” Wade scoffed. “Aaron! The second worst hand-to-hand fighter I’ve ever seen, especially in their family! And who had to drop your bleeding carcass off with all of your shit? Me!” Wade screamed in James’ face

“And who left me a bleeding carcass in the first place?” Jim shouted, and Wade could feel Samantha’s eyes on him. “You! You’ve been my best friend since we were kids! I’ve always had your back, and you had mine, and what did you do? You beat me into a bloody pulp on the driveway next door after Aaron threw me out like last night’s garbage! You were my brother Wade, and yet you chose them, her, over the closest thing you ever had to a family!”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Jim; I did choose family. You just got removed once you put Sam in the fucking hospital. There’s no excuse for putting your hands on a woman; I know you know there’s consequences, and if you didn’t then I’m positive you did back then. Oh how the mighty fall.” Wade cracked a bloody grin, “Kinda like your arm way back when!”

James shot back up to his feet and roared, “YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

Wade ducked under the wild punch and plowed his own fist deep into Denim’s gut. “Wow, didn’t think you had a backbone anymore.” He threw Denim backwards into the toppled garbage cans, the larger man in a heap as plastic bags ripped open on contact and spilled their contents over him. “Now that the trash is taken out-”

“Uh coach? Why are you here?”

Suddenly Wade’s eyes widened; what he’d been trying to prevent was for naught. Casting a glance to his right, he saw Sal stepping forward with caution. “What’s going on?” The young man looked down at James, “Is...that who I think it is?”

“I’m glad to finally meet you, ‘Silverback,’” James coughed, blood flecking his forearm. “You know who I am, right?”

“I don’t think there’s anyone in our sport’s community who doesn’t know who you are.”

“Well, thank you for that compliment. Now, you may be wondering why I’ve been trying to contact you.”

“Is that so?” He raised a brow in curiosity, “Why would James Denim want to contact me?”

“I have a proposal for you, one I assure you would be beneficial to your future.”

“Really?” Sal’s eyebrow raised up in skepticism, “And what would that be?”

“Well, I’m glad you asked. How would you like to be my apprentice? You’re already fighting very much like I do, and accomplishing the same things I did despite your size disadvantage. With the right training I could make you a fighter and a man even more like me, a true legend in the making. Hell, I could be a father to you.”

Time seemed to stand still for everyone involved when the nation’s number one heavyweight approached man once known as the Marauder of the North. James, still bleeding profusely from the numerous cuts on his face, grinned smugly at all of the eyes on Sal, who also looked around at the people who welcomed him with open arms. When Sal extended his hand to Denim, Aaron looked like a gasket just blew, Amy and Alexis put their hands to their mouths, and Kara...the heartbroken look on her face pierced Sal as though Aelanis herself shot him with a bolt of lightning. Everyone was either stunned or livid, but out of all of them, only Wade caught the well-hidden intent in his eyes.

“That’s a good bo-” CRACK. Sal slammed his forehead like a freight train into his former idol’s face, targeting the nose, cheekbone, and eye in an explosion of blood from Denim’s new cuts and broken nose.

“ARGH! YOU LITTLE NEW REALM BASTARD!”

“I want you to listen because I’m only saying this once,” Sal let go of his hand and grabbed him by the collar, his eyes a violent and unwavering red as he was only inches from Denim’s face. “You are going to leave this court, and you are going to leave this family alone,” Sal commanded, his voice loud and clear for the others to hear. “If I hear that you so much as breathe in anyone’s direction, that left arm being torn off will be a fucking tickle compared to what I will do.”

Denim rolled his head towards his former brother-in-arms and chuckled darkly, “All of that talk you had about training this new generation to be better than ours, and what do you know? There’s a genuine copy of me in your roster.”

Sal thought for a second about everything that’d happened ever since “I don't know what I am anymore. But I do know this: I'm more than just a ‘copy’ of you. I'm better than you. You fought for yourself and your own gains, never sparing a thought for anyone else; I will fight for those closest to me, hell or high water. And if it’s to protect them from people like you or worse, even better reason to fight.”

“So you’d rather spit in my face than become the most profitable fighter in the world and secure enough money and fame to set yourself and whoever else up for life?” James scoffed, coughing up a bit of blood in the process. “We could be an unstoppable team of fighter and manager, son and father, but instead you’re throwing it away!”

“You may want to be like my father, gods know you two are a lot alike,” Sal threw him back down into the trash pile, “but you and he will never be my dad.” With that, he stalked off, memories of days long past bubbling to the surface and their effect on him obvious to the others. While Wade couldn’t hear the conversation, he was certain Kara, Jason, and Ciara were asking him if he was okay. Judging by the quick shake of the head and how he kept walking away to most likely vent, he wasn’t.

“He’s right. You can say what you will about his style, but that kid’s got more heart than the two of us put together, past and present. I don’t doubt that he and the rest of them are capable of great things down the road. Hell, they might just change the world.” He looked back down at the broken man, “As for you…”

“Wade, we’ll take care of it,” Casey clapped him on the back. “You need to sit down and get looked at. I’m sure Samantha will take good care of you.”

As Casey and Erik hauled off on James and carried the beaten man down the street, Wade shambled over to Samantha. ‘It hurts to breath, hell, it hurts to move…’

“Shit!” he tripped on a chunk of debris as Samantha made her way to him. She rushed over and caught him before he could hit the ground, but she too tripped, still dazed from the earlier hit. “I got you...shit!”

Wade, even as he fell, managed to stop her fall, “No, I got you.”

The two of them stared into each other's eyes, blue meeting grey, for what felt like hours until Aaron cleared his throat behind them, “You two done gazing yet, or should I get you guys a private tent?”

Samantha blushed as she caught her cousin’s grin, and quickly hurried inside “I’ll, uh...I’ll go grab a steak from the freezer!”

Aaron laughed as she ran inside and he helped Wade over to the steps next to the broken banister, “Do you really think I’m the second worst fighter?”

“Nah…” Wade clapped him on the back, and chuckled, ”I was just being nice. You’re easily the worst.”