Worth Fighting For

by Anonthony

Chapter 2

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Worth Fighting For

-CHAPTER TWO-

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The gentle rapping at the door the next morning roused him groggily from bed. A glance at the alarm clock on the bed-stand elicited a groan of disappointment.

"Ugh, darn it..." he mumbled to himself, then called towards the door. "Just a sec, I'm up!"

He ambled up and over to the door, pleased to see her smiling face awaiting him despite a bit of lingering throbbing in his head.

"Overlept, huh? You're gettin' more like me every day, Pacer. Hope you're not catching my bad habits," she chided playfully.

"Ha, me too - one of us has to be organized one. And I sure as hay can't be the nice one," he added with a smirk.

She nodded in feigned seriousness. "Certainly not. So, you ready to go?"

Pacer hastily grabbed a scarf from the closet and gestured towards the door. "Ready when you are, Nice One."

They began to walk in tandem in the chilly morning air. Though it had a bit of bite to it, the emptiness of the streets this early made it a quiet and pleasant stroll. They walked in silence for awhile; he mostly through lack of concentration, she from lack of something to say. She'd half expected him to be the one to knock at her door with how early he usually got up, not the other way around. She tried to brush it off as a fluke, but wanted to assure herself he was alright.

"So... ya didn't sleep well, huh?" she questioned softly.

Pacer grimaced inwardly; he didn't want her to worry, but he also couldn't lie to her. "Not exactly. I mean, I'm fine, of course... Just had a lot on my mind."

She accepted his answer for now, her concern sufficiently sated to change the subject... "Aren't you a little cold with just a scarf? Sure you shouldn't have brought a hat and a coat?”

He hadn't even considered until she'd just now mentioned it. Now that he thought about it, he noticed she had all three on. He shook his head absently and shrugged. "Not really. Guess I'm just used to it. Winter's here are pretty mild compared to what I'm used to I suppose."

"Really? I mean, I heard it's pretty snowy up there, but you never really talk about home. Or anything before you moved here..." She added with diminishing volume.

"Ah, yeah... Sorry about that. I'm just not usually much for going over the past,” he replied apologetically. “Gotta keep moving forward, you know? I've always been that way, but if there's anything you wanna know, just ask."

"Oh, that's alright Pacer," she accepted quickly. There was something she'd always wondered. "Did you always know you wanted to be a fighter?"

He was quite for a moment after she'd asked. Not because he wasn't sure of the answer, but because it just something he didn't think about very often. "No. Took me awhile to figure out what it was I wanted to do. I'd always loved playing sports and stuff, but fighting? It never crossed my mind, until..." he trailed off for a few seconds.

She urged him on quietly. "...Until what?"

"Well, see, there's not a lot of unicorns back home. At least there weren't when I was growing up. Just don't like the weather, I suppose. And while I always loved to play games and do physical stuff, I wasn't ever the among the fastest or strongest. And you might have noticed, I'm pretty competitive, right? So I played hard and tried everything I could to keep up. It helped, though - taught me push myself, even as a young colt. One day there was a new filly in class. Another unicorn. After school everypony gathered to play a game. I was kinda bein' stupid, I wanted to impress her, you know, show her I was cool so she'd want to be friends..."

Velvet couldn't help but chuckle lovingly. "I'm sorry, really. You had a little school crush, huh? I can just see it in my head."

Pacer smiled, embarrassed just a little. "Well... yeah. It's silly, I know. But it made perfect sense to me at the time. So I played really hard that day. Maybe they weren't taking it as seriously as I was, but somehow I managed to wrestle the ball away from this big earthpony colt, and outran a pegasi to the goal. I was pretty darn proud of myself, but they weren't as happy about it. They said I cheated, had a few choice... words for me. And you know... I can kinda have a bit of a temper, too..."

"You got in a fight with them, didn't you?" she answered expectantly.

"You know it," he confirmed readily. "I was so mad they were trying to make me look bad, and I was so upset about how I looked to everypony else, it didn't take long for us to start scrapping. I suppose I was taking the fight more seriously than them too, just like the game, and after a few good licks they scrambled off with their tails between their legs..."

He fell quiet again for a time; he'd meant to recall the story for her with the pride of youth it would have seemed to reflect, but the last words hung on the air with a trace of regret tinged with the chill of the air. They'd neared their destination now, and he felt relieved he could end the tale for now.

"And that's when I got this," he continued finally, gesturing to the mark on his backside.

Velvet had listened in silence, and looked on the mark as he mentioned. She'd never quite understood the connection, but had been wary of asking directly. Some ponies were sensitive about their cutie marks, after all, being such an important part of their identities. And the balanced scale pictured on his had always puzzled her. He anticipated her thoughts and answered without being asked.

"I wasn't sure myself, at first. My dad thought he was. Was absolutely certain it meant I'd follow his in hoofsteps as a police officer. But I knew it wasn't that, at least. I thought maybe I'd be a guard or something... I just loved the way that fight had made me feel. I felt in control, as if while it was going on, everything else stopped, it was just me and the goal. Everything was so clear-cut and simple. I finally just decided that fighting was what I wanted to do, and how it connected was something I'd figure out later."

Velvet nodded but wasn't quite sure she understood. But it hardly seemed important at the time. "Well, if you're doing what you love, and it's something you're good at, that's what matters I guess."

He agreed completely; "Exactly!" he added enthusiastically as they neared the door. The scattered activity across the gym floor began to dwindle almost as soon as they'd crossed the threshold. Punching bags started to cease their metronomic beat and those grappling let each other up. They were both keenly aware of the lingering glances as the room failed miserably in trying to hide its attention on him. Pacer turned to Velvet and tried to his best to maintain an indifference towards it, but inwardly chastised himself for forgetting this was bound to happen.

I should have walked with her to work instead...

"Thanks, Velvet. Why don't I come by the paper after I'm d-" he started, cut-off mid sentence by a resonating voice from across the room, reverberating on the bare concrete walls.

"Hey, filly!" a loud mare exclaimed from the back. The rest of the room, still milling about, fell completely silent. Pacer knew who it was, and knew she was talking to him. He reluctantly turned back and cast his eyes to the ring. Standing cocksure and leaning on the ropes, Bright Strike called out again. "No no, not you. The hummingbird," she continued, a pleased grin on her face.

Pacer was confused for a second, then glanced back at Velvet, puzzled herself.

"Yeah, you. You ever think about puttin' on gloves? I could use a challenge... You're the toughest lookin' thing to walk through the door lately..." she smugly added.

The murmured hush of the room turned to taut silence. Pacer could feel the heat rise in his face as he flushed with simmering anger. He turned back and responded with thinly veiled ire, trying to sound icily serious and match the slangy bravado prevalent in the city.

"So you're gonna challenge a hummingbird now. Classy, Bright." He glared up towards her across the room, which had turned its full attention now on the tense exchange between the two. Already caught up in the unresolved conflict that had built unabated from the day he first arrived, he'd left open a glimpse of his own bias; either inborn from the traditional perceptions of the divisions that fueled such views, or grown out of the unwelcome he'd felt from day one, or both.

The haughty grin faded from Bright Strike's face; her eyes narrowed and barked back sharply, "It's not like I got much of one from you, after all."

Pacer instinctively took a step forward. Velvet nudged at his side, trying to turn him back.
"We were just supposed to be sparring then. In a real fight, all out, I could take you!"

The terse exchange and sudden change of atmosphere drew Pinto from the training room. The old stallion's appearance shifted attention to him as he moved to stand between the two, concern evident on his face.

"Woah now, hold on jus' a minute. Bright, you got trainin' to get to, why don' you just get to it? And Pacer, c'mon now, you don' need to let 'er get ya riled, not after yesterday..."

Pacer was about to object, but Bright spoke up first.

"Oh yes, of course - we wouldn't want a repeat of yesterday now would we...?" she said dismissively.

Pacer grit his teeth in frustration at Pinto's intervention to protect him; he didn't -need- protecting, he thought. But the old trainer wouldn't have it. He spoke in a more hushed tone, privately. "She's right, ya know... You don' need to risk gettin' hurt, ya got yer next fight to think about. Don't do nothin' foolish, now."

But in the quiet attention of the open room, it carried to everypony listening. Bright laughed heartily, setting Pacer's last bit of patience aflame.

"That's right, kid - listen to the ol' mule. I don't wanna hurt you... If I don't have to."

Velvet could sense that he was fuming now; she stepped closer. "C'mon Pacer. Just let it go, it's just one mean pony," she said demurely.

But to him, it wasn't just one pony's disrespect. It was a room full of watchful eyes, judging stares looking down; it was wounded pride and biased perceptions. His ego stung and he brushed off his friend's words, taking another step forward.

"You're the one who'd get hurt, you old plowhorse! You wouldn't last in my division, on my terms!"

A smattering of 'oohs' scattered across the room at his insult. Bright flushed at the term, her haughty grin replaced with a scowl upon hearing the remark. Pinto was about to intercede but she sharply barked back before he could speak.

"I ain't ever gonna be scared of no unicorn. All ya got are tricks, but I don't need to get sidelined from no trick before my next match, you horned filly!"

His ears pinned back against his head, his teeth on edge; she'd beat him once, then put him down, belittled him as a fighter - and now dismissed him, rejecting his challenge and second chance. Velvet shrank back as she saw his eyes narrow with an ire she'd never seen in him before.

"If you're so worried about magic... I'll take you on without it again - only this time we won't be sparring, and you won't catch me off-guard!"

Silence. It had been an interesting bit of drama for the gawkers, but now became deadly serious. Their prior clash in training wouldn't compare; a well-timed hook cleaning his clock in a practice round was one thing, a challenge issued in earnest for an all-out fight held the prospect of something else entirely. It took a moment to register for her, and indeed, for everypony else. She realized it's implications, and she was all-too eager to oblige his new terms.

"Ha! In that case, I'm ready right now! Let's get this over with, I could use the warmup!"

The elder trainer once again couldn't get a word in edge-wise before he was cut off. Pacer's stare turned towards him and he spoke cooly.

"Get my gloves, I'm ready to go."

Pinto shook his head vigorously. "Uh-uh, no way, I ain't gonna let ya do this. You gotta trust me on this - not in your state, not on her terms!"

In Pacer's mind however, it was far too late. Terms had been given, the challenge issued and taken up. It would be a disgrace beyond reason to even entertain the thought of backing out, and he wouldn't consider it. He turned away immediately upon hearing the response and began to step intently towards the equipment table on his own, Velvet finally shaking herself from her trepidation and following behind.

"Y-you really should listen to him, Pacer! Please, I don't know anything about this, but if he doesn't think it's a good id-"

He turned back sharply; seeing her questioning gaze softened him for a moment. She stopped mid-word as his stare met hers. He was too far into his instinct to fight, neck-high and awash in combative feeling. "You don't think I can do it, can you? You don't believe in me." he demanded, rhetorical in tone.

She asked herself the same question. But she found no answer. What could she say, after all. There was no right answer to give; anything would sound wrong, or just make it worse. Her silence jabbed at his heart. There was a scratching doubt at the back of his mind, a quiet voice pleading to be listened to, to quiet the roaring pride-fueled anger. In a way he knew of his irrational haste, his break from reason, but chose, on some unconscious level, to give in to the tugging force of instinct and the pulling tide of the thick tension saturating the room. Other options wouldn't penetrate the ego's needful demands, its walls too thick now to overcome. He turned back away wordlessly, pulling on his gloves as the onlooking fighters and trainers started to gather around the ring.

"...I won't watch this. I can't..." she finally answered.

Pacer tightened his gloves and started towards the ring, averting her gaze. "Then don't."

Velvet shook her head softly.

I don't get it, she thought.

She doesn't get it, he thought.

He clambered up the steps to the ring, slipping between the ropes. Standing face to face now with the eagerly grinning Bright. Pinto ambled over to the side of the ropes, chastising the two foes.

"Listen now, tha both a' you!” Pinto interjected, “this ain't the time or place, ya both got more important things than this here grudge to think about!"

Neither adversary would pay him heed. Bright called over to the crowd, to nopony in particular, ignoring him completely.

"Hey, somepony keep time. Not that it should take long, of course..."

A voice called out their acknowledgement from the gathered group of onlookers. The tension that had built shifting into a kind of buzz of lurid interest; the sweat and heat and drama creating an impassioned sense of excitement. As they crowded the ring and jabbered amongst themselves about what was about to happen, some taking sides or making petty wagers, Velvet backed away in dismay. Her reluctance to leave was overcome by her inability to bear witness. She took off at a sprint for the door. He vaguely noticed just as she disappeared from sight, mind afog with the surge of adrenaline coursing through him, standing across from the enemy, leering eyes impatiently awaiting the promised action. The voice called out as they stared each other down, barely audible now amidst the droning fervor.

"Ready? FIGHT!"

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- END CHAPTER TWO

Anonthony