Worth Fighting For

by Anonthony

Chapter 4

Worth Fighting For

-CHAPTER FOUR-

- - -

The walk home in the chilly air was a laborious task. Physically, at least. He kept his eyes on the randomly drifting snow falling gently around him, concentrated on nowhere in particular but enough to occupy his mind. Still though, each step seemed as plodding through thick muck, an empty thudding behind his eyes.

Tuning out the evening crowds shuffling home from work and school, Pacer avoided looking at any in particular. It wasn't hard to keep from eye contact. Despite the obvious and discolored welt marring his face, everypony seemed as mentally occupied as he. He was silently thankful as he rounded the corner and slipped inside the apartment building and up towards his door.

The silence and warmth felt at first like relief. Wearied, he lay down and rubbed his temples softly. Slow and sure the room darkened around him as time lazily passed. The silence that had comforted began to find its way to work against him. He'd wanted to be by himself... And now, as the clock on the wall ticked out just as the one in the hospital had, there was nothing to do but think. And wait. And think.

He wanted to sleep, but it was evident by his buzzing thoughts it wasn't going to happen soon. That would have made it much easier to pass the time, and it seemed appropriate punishment that he wasn't going to be that fortunate. At least he had his pick of any number of thoughts to choose from, even if none of them seemed particularly pleasant. He certainly didn't want to think about tomorrow, or what he'd do to pass the time -then-, or the day after that, or going back to the gym and facing the embarrasment. He dismissed those for now; he'd deal with it later. For a brief moment he considered thinking about what to say to Velvet, how to apologize, but that as well held too many implications for the moment.

He settled on the easiest thing to digest for the time being; the fight, in every agonizing detail he could piece together. Blow by blow, movement by movement it ran over and over in his mind's eye. Every mistake and possibility he'd missed he hypothesized about what to do different, what he should have done, what he could have done differently. And even then, stringing together the likely outcomes, he couldn't come up with a way that ended much better. He turned over restlessly in bed, mentally torturing himself over how far short he fell of his own expectations. He just wasn't good enough to beat her at her own game. He ran through the fight once more; every move leaving him further and further behind; he wasn't fast enough. Every attack, landed or taken, not enough or too much; he wasn't strong enough. Every approach turned aside instinctively; he wasn't experienced enough.

And every step of the way, the eyes bored into his head. Bright Strike's, fierce and intolerant; the crowd's, his fellow fighters and their trainers, morbidly eager to see his comeuppance; and Velvet's, conspicuous in their absence, and Pinto's, disappointed and concerned. Like a bad dream you try to change in the semi-wakeful state when it's over, no action seemed to satiate them all, no alternatives satisfied the restlessness covering him like a shroud.

Finally, mercifcully, as the seconds lingerlingly turned to minutes and hours, he fell into fitfull, dreamless sleep.

- - -

In the stillness of the pre-dawn morning, Velvet roused herself from bed uneasily. She hadn't slept well and it showed as she passed the mirror in the washroom to ready herself for the day. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and brushed her frazzled hair, dismissing the thought of breakfast.

Ever since Pinto had come by while Pacer had been out cold, she'd felt disquited and anxious; even now, the next day she couldn't shake it. She'd wanted to be there, she really did; but to see him like that, still upset over his accusation about her faith in him...

In the stillness of the pre-dawn morning, Velvet roused herself from bed uneasily. She hadn't slept well and it showed as she passed the mirror in the washroom to ready herself for the day. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and brushed her frazzled hair, dismissing the thought of breakfast.

Ever since Pinto had come by while Pacer had been out cold, she'd felt disquieted and anxious, and even now the next day she couldn't shake it. She'd wanted to be there, she really did; but to see him like that, still upset over his accusation about her faith in him... But hesitation over the knot in her stomach, indecision, overruled it.

And now, the reticence was replaced with regret. What might have been done differently, what might have been said that could have changed things or helped. Absently putting her things into her bag and getting ready to head out for work, she tried to come up with some way to fix it now, but what could be done? It -was- his fault, after all; wasn't it?

Throwing the bag over her shoulders and wrapping a scarf around her neck, Velvet headed for the door. There was a moment's pause as she reached for the handle.

Maybe I should check on him. Just to see if he's home yet.

- - -

From in the dead of sleep, abruptly, piercing light invaded Pacer's eyelids as it seeped through the cracks in the windowblinds. He shifted to move his face away from its rude awakening, but having been roused, there was no going back. The ambient light was already too bright to ignore. He groaned at the intrusion to no one in particular, instinctively pulling back the covers and stepping out of bed without thinking. It didn't take more than a few dizzied, stumbling steps to start remembering; he steadied himself against the wall as he rushed to full consciousness, head swimming and throbbing.

Taking a few slow breaths and trying to focus, he righted himself and pushed towards the washroom. His legs started to feel a little more under him now, the initial pulsing pain in his forehead diminishing; he went to splash a bit of water on his face to awaken more fully, and was met with a sting that made him wince. He looked up into the mirror on the wall and recognized the cause. A misshapen, discolored lump across the eyes dominated the reflection, and he sighed bitterly at the sight, turning away from the mirror quickly.

Stepping out into the main room, he stood for a moment and looked around. He was struck by how quiet and empty it seemed. Usually he'd already be in the middle of his routine, chowing down breakfast, putting his lunch together, gathering his things and heading out the door. He rarely had time to stand around, and now, the thought of the whole day with nothing more to do but sit there and rest left an unsettling feeling in his gut. It'd been hard enough not to dwell on unpleasant thoughts the previous night.

What else is there to do, though...?

Nothing came to mind that seemed to be of any help. He was a do-er, he wanted to act, not sit around and think. Then again, it'd been hasty action and not thinking that put him where he was. If he'd thought about things a little more, if he'd listened to his trainer, if he'd listened to his friend... His mind wandered to Velvet with that train of thought. She'd be headed out the door about now. Of course, she probably wouldn't be stopping by to walk to work with him as usual.

Maybe, right?

But... probably not, he figured. He owed her an apology.

So apologize.

His head perked up at the thought. That was something he could -do-. He glanced up at the clock. She'd be on her way in already. Maybe if he left now he could catch her. He had to 'do' something. If nothing else, he could try to make amends for one of the mistakes he'd compounded yesterday, to brush away at least one of the dark clouds hanging over his head.

No more overthinking now; he moved right for the door, a little steadier on his legs now with a goal to move towards. It took a little doing, but with something to put his focus on, getting down the stairs and to the entrance wasn't as much of a struggle as he'd expected. He exited onto the snowy sidewalk, shielding his eyes from the early morning sun, amplified by the brilliant white sheen of snow covering the pavement.

- - -

Velvet walked slowly through the snow towards work, taking a long way in that would bring her past Pacer's building. She hadn't decided if she'd check on him or not, but at least she could put off the choice and leave it open. The uniform gray brick buildings blended into one other as she passed each one in turn, mellow blue eyes squinting against the light. She tried not to think too much about what to say. It was sure to come to her, she told herself - after all, words were supposed to be her forte, a cheery kind of pony who loved to uplift others with just the right thing to say or write.

So why are you so worried about it...?

There wasn't a chance to answer. Before the thought could even finish, as she neared his building on the other side of the street, a sillhuouette against the blinding light stopped her - a slightly shaky looking unicorn, hoof raised to his eyes against the light, standing on the sidewalk outside the door.

- - -

With his eyes slowly adjusting, Pacer started to get his bearings. He couldn't even be sure she'd come this way. But it was worth a shot. The chilly air and light made his head throb anew as he scanned the street around him. It was surprisingly quiet this morning, and he was silently grateful. In fact, there didn't seem to be anypony around at all. Just as he was about to wonder about it, he caught sight of her across and down the sidewalk.

He froze for a moment; it was who he was looking for, but now that he saw her he hesitated with a twinge of guilt on his conscience. Pacer collected himself briefly, and started to cross the street towards her.

Velvet felt the same hesitant strain, but it came with some relief, to see that he at least seemed alright. She started across the street as well. Meeting in the middle of the empty road, there was a moment of silent assessment. Seeing the ugly welt marring his eye made her wince, and he instinctively turned that side of his face away, head hung low. There was something that needed to be said, but he couldn't quite form it in his mind.

"I'm sorry-" they both started to say.

"No, Velvet..." Pacer started again, "you shouldn't be sorry. This is my fault."

Velvet shook her head and tried to refute, but he continued, finally blurting out what he'd tried to find the right words for, coming out simple and blunt.

"I was a jerk, and I'm sorry... I don't know what else to say. I got so caught up in ... all that, I didn't listen to my friends," he quietly admitted, looking up from the street to see her reaction.

"It's... it's okay, Pacer," she began comfortingly. "Everypony loses their head sometimes. And... I'm sorry too. I should've been there for you."

It was an uncomfortable reminder of how he'd felt when he'd woken from his defeat. He looked back away.

"I... never finished the story I was telling you."

Velvet looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"Back in school, what I was telling you the other day. Seems just as stupid now as it did then - after that stupid fight, that filly I'd tried to impress and make friends with... She thought I was big jerk after that. I didn't get a second chance. When I woke up yesterday, I thought... I thought maybe I'd done it again."

Velvet's expression fell further. "Oh... I see. I'm really sorry, Pacer - I wish I'd been there. I really do."

Pacer nodded slowly. "I know, Velvet. I brought it on myself, just like I did back then."

A silent moment passed between them, a mixed sense of relief at broaching their apologies and the awkwardness of it all. Velvet finally realized they were still standing in the middle of the street.

"Hey, c'mon, let's get out of the road," she encouraged, gently nudging him back towards the sidewalk. They walked quietly over to the steps of the apartment building and sat themselves down on the stoop.

"So, um, what did the doctor tell you?"

Pacer shrugged absently. "He said I'd be alright, I guess. I could get back to work shortly, if I wanted to."

Velvet wasn't heartened by the way he'd worded it, in doubtful questioning. "That's great news... isn't it? It's what you love, after all."

"Yeah... it is. But I made such a fool of myself. Disregarded my trainer, my friend. Got shown up in front everypony else-"

"Hey now," Velvet interrupted firmly, "if you don't want to fight anymore because it's not what you want, that's one thing. But you better not be thinking about giving up because of embarrassment. That's not the Pacer I know. I understand, you wanted to prove you were just as good as Bright. But... is that really what matters?"

She caught him by surprise with the question. He had to think about it for long moment.

"No. No, it's not," he acknowledged.

"So you go back upstairs and rest. Don't think about it for now. And tomorrow you'll feel better, and you can get back to reaching for your dream. You'd never let me give up on mine, would you?"

He smiled over at her, the answer obvious. "Of course not. You deserve it."

"And so do you," she grinned back. "Alright? I'm gonna head to work, and I'll come by and see you after, okay?"

- - -

Pacer watched Velvet walk away, lost in absent thought about what she'd said. Before he knew it, she'd disappeared down the road. When he realized he'd been sitting there on the cold steps for quite awhile, he started to get up to head back upstairs. But as he was about to turn towards the door he felt something pull at his mind. He'd cleared the air with Velvet, but there was still someone else he'd wronged.

His thoughts turned to his faithful trainer, and how coldly he'd disregarded the old stallion's advice. And then, to Pinto's pained expressions of concern at the hospital. Pacer stood still, thinking over now how he'd neglected to consider how his actions effected others. For that matter, his actions had even effected Bright, facing suspension now. His foolish pride hadn't just hurt himself. Once more, he felt that pressing need to -act-; he couldn't see himself sitting around all day with a cloud over his head, without having made amends.

Maybe, he thought, If head to Half-Sun now, I can talk to the commissioner and ask him not to suspend Bright. And of course, while there, he could offer the apology he owed to Pinto.

With his intention set, he turned back down the stairs and set down the road towards the gym. Already, just getting moving gave him some sense of further relief. It felt good to be doing something and not sulking over it - though he still wasn't entirely sure what he'd do after, at least it was something.

The walk was comforting, even under still-not-quite steady legs and in a chilly day. The fresh snow's crunch beneath each step gave a tangible sense to the action he was taking. He kept his eye's forward, the easing fog in his mind less obtrusive, the fresh air helping his headache further. It wasn't very long, or at least it seemed to him, that he was nearly there already. He rounded a corner past towering brick buildings, portions bathed in what snow managed to stick to them. The open clearing of a park appeared a little further down the way.

Pacer could hear the sounds of fillies and colts at play before he could even see them. As he got a bit closer it was apparent there were a good half-dozen or so children revelling in the snow. It brought a smile to his face, hearing some raucous laughter and their joking. A few dozen yards away now he could see them having a friendly snowball fight; no particular organization to their haphazard play, snow flew chaotically back and forth between them. Pacer stopped in his tracks for a moment.

He saw one colt, what was quite apparently the youngest of the group, a little orange earthpony, trying to keep pace with some of the older kids. The little colt diligently gathered a hooffull of snow and looked up for a target; he chucked it towards an older pegasi who easily flitted away it. But the kid was undeterred. The misfire didn't faze him. He cast his eyes back to the ground to collect some more ammunition, when an older unicorn in the group magically grabbed up a tight ball of snow and struck him smack dab in the face. He was only stunned for a moment, though - he vigorously shook his head and wiped the snow clear from his eyes, a broad smile still on his face.

Pacer watched for awhile, reminded of scenes so similar in his own childhood. He thought for a moment about how many others had these exact memories, or one's just like them. Suddenly though, the nostalgia was replaced with something else. For a second he couldn't place it, but then it hit him. Guilt. He watched these children play, unbound, especially the little earthpony, at a disadvantage to the older kids, with no magic or wings. Certainly, he'd grow into his own and the natural physical talents of his kind, not to mention whatever his special talent might be. But for now, the colt was just having fun. Playing, competing, regardless of whether the other's might be better than him at the moment - or whether they had horns, wings, or not. Because that was the point. And that was the source of the guilt now gnawing at Pacer. He realized he'd replaced the joy of friendly competition with the narrow focus of winning. His rashness hadn't just hurt himself, or his friends, or even his rival; it was a blow to the whole reason why he loved what he did, why other's loved to watch.

-I owe them more than an apology-, he thought solemnly. He had to do something. A plan began to form nebulously in his mind, a way to make amends, to rekindle the real purpose in himself and show it to the others and break the foolish barriers that helped push him to his mistake in the first place. He turned back towards the road and continued towards Half-Sun.

When he arrived, there was no hesitation. He knew there'd be eyes on him, so when he pushed through the door he headed straight for the back. Disregarding the looks, not trying to make out the hushed words around him, Pacer moved straightaway to the office.

Opening the door he was greeted with the surprised looks of Pinto and the commissioner - a stocky red earthpony with intense eyes that instantly started to size him up - the two of them sitting across from each other at large desk in the middle of the room.

"Pacer!" Pinto exclaimed. "Great to see ya up and about already! See, I told ya, you'd be fine in no time at all, I was just telling the commissioner here, you'll be back in action right off!"

Pacer nodded with a steady smile. "Yeah, nothin' to worry about."

The commissioner was still looking him over, with a fighter's eye, as if scanning for weaknesses and strengths. "Pinto and I were just going over what happened. I'm glad to see you're already back on your legs. We hate to lose our up-and-coming fighters for even a single fight."

"That's what I'm here about, comissioner," Pacer started to explain.

The comissioner raised a hoof as if to stop him. "Don't worry about it. It's not ideal of course, but we can reschedule your upcoming fight to another event. I hate to have to do it considering we're losing Bright Strike's match for the next event as well, but it's all we can do."

"Actually, comissioner... That won't be necessary. You don't need to push back my fight," Pacer stated firmly.

Pinto eyed him with some concern, but was more or less pleased that he seemed as determined as he did. For awhile there he'd been worried he'd lost his focus. "Well, if yer sure, kid... Yeah, we could still have ya ready in time."

The comissioner stared him down for a moment, then glanced over to Pinto. "Well. If the doctor's given him clearance, and you don't think it'll be a problem, I suppose we can keep the match as is. You've been training fighter's a long time Pinto, so I'll trust your judgement."

Pacer nodded thankfully, but he wasn't finished yet. "There was something else, comissioner. I'd like to ask that Bright not be suspended. It was equally my fault, and she shouldn't have to be punished for what it took two of us to do."

The comissioner sat back and thought quietly for awhile, a silence passing between the three of them.

"It's important for the league's image that we have rules like this, Pacer," he finally spoke, "I appreciate what you're saying, but this is the kind of unsportsponylike conduct that gives us a bad rap."

"I understand, comissioner. And trust me, I know we need to project a better image... That's why I don't want my match to stay as-is," Pacer replied steadily, both their puzzled stares looking over at him before he continued. "I want Bright and I to fight at the next event. On equal ground, both our rules. We'll put this thing between us to rest, neither of us will lose a fight, and the league won't lose the matches."

They both sat in shock, but it didn't take the comissioner long to form a response. "Pacer, what you're saying, an inter-division fight, a -sanctioned- fight... Look, I know-"

Pacer cut him off mid-sentence, feeling a bit guilty at the impoliteness, but feeling it necessary. "Think about it for a minute first. Instead of losing two good fights for an event, you get a fight that'll draw more interest than anything we've had in months. We'll probably sell out the whole arena. And Bright and I can finally settle things once and for all, on even terms."

It was Pinto who responded this time, not quite sure of himself - or his fighter. "Pacer, kid... Are ya sure about this? Whaddya gonna gain?"

Pacer smiled at his old friend. "Respect, Pinto. And a good fight, of course." Pacer looked back from Pinto to the commissioner. "I know you don't have to agree to this. And I know it's irregular. But just this once, let's take a chance and see what happens. Trust me, it'll be worth it."

The comissioner turned to the side, looking out the window for a good long while as Pacer watched intently for some sign of what his answer might be. Finally he spoke, as if to himself. "It would be quite a draw... Might be some good publicity... Can always use a good haul at the box office..."

Pacer kept silent, not wanting to interrupt the positive line of thinking-out-loud he was hearing. The commisioner finally stopped, and turned back around towards him.

"Fine then. Just this once. You've got a deal."

Pacer grinned with satisfaction. "Thank you, comissioner."

"I can't force her to, of course - it would be an exhibition, outside her division, so she'd have to agree to it on her own."

"That won't be a problem, believe me. She'll agree to it," Pacer affirmed. He started to turn around and head towards the door.

"Where ya goin' kid?" Pinto asked.

"To get her to agree, of course," he replied as he neared the door.

The comissioner called out to him just as he was about to exit. "Hey, kid. Just remember. I'm takin' an awful risk here. You get yourself put back in the hospital again, in front a crowd... It'll be bad for the league - and you too. Don't make us regret this," he solemnly added.

Pacer didn't turn back. He let the warning sink in, but he was not deterred. He answered, Velvet's words more pressing on his mind than the comissioner's. "No... there won't be any regrets," he said matter-of-factly as he finally walked back out the door.

- - -

_________________

- END CHAPTER FOUR

Anonthony