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Espio was by his lonesome in a room with no more than a chipped wooden chair and table. The former of which, he was sitting on, doing his best to stay awake for at least another couple hours. He could hear the roaring crowd outside, placing bets and picking fights of their own. None of their petty arguments would compare to what he was scheduled for in a few minutes.
It had been a while since his last good night’s sleep. At most, he had gotten three hours in the past two weeks, since he had started fighting.
He remembers the morning a week before that, when Vector had called him into his office to warn him of a new tighter budget, and Espio promising him that he’d find a way to help. He had gotten sick of rejections from low paying jobs, supposedly hiring urgently, so he went somewhere he knew would give him a chance, and more than ten bucks an hour.
The door to the room swung open, his manager standing there with a clipboard in her arms and her gold name pin glistening. Jesse, it read. “C’mon, Spry. Show time.”
Espio pushed himself up off his chair and followed her. He never agreed to his fighter name, though he never objected to it, either.
As he walked around the fighter pit, he spared a few glances at the crowd, looking fuller than usual. He recalled having received an info packet on his opponent, though he didn’t remember ever reading it.
The lack of sleep must be messing with me. I’ll be able to rest tomorrow.
“My apologies, I didn’t get to research my opponent yet… who am I up against?” He asked.
Jesse placed her clipboard in his hands. “Her name is Rush— badger, about your age, been fighting for a few years… nothing you can’t handle.” She patted him on the back enthusiastically.
By the way the crowd was looking at him, he couldn’t exactly feel like she was right. He straightened his spine and chose to ignore them.
Rush’s record was impressive, Espio had to admit. 92% win rate, vigorous training, nothing he could pinpoint as a weakness. This fight would be difficult, he knew.
When they arrived at the table, Jesse took the liberty of sneaking a look at the prize pool. Masking a smile, she gave Espio a thumbs up, which lightened his spirits.
“Nice match-up today, hm?” She said to the greeter, leaning on the table with one hand.
“Yep. We had people lined down the block. Rush’s quite popular.” The old greeter chuckled, puffing some smoke from his cigar.
Jesse’s face flashed a grimace for one second, Espio was lucky to have caught it, though it panged worry. “Great, well, I’ve got Spry right here, so, just let me know what wing he’s in and I’ll send him right in.”
“Left wing, ma’am.”
Jesse turned to him and jabbed a thumb behind her. “You got this, just trust your instincts.”
Espio looked back at the crowd, then at her. He bowed, then went off to the left wing.
Once he arrived, the door behind him shut with force, enclosing him in the dark and dingy space. He’s fought many times and so far, hasn’t lost once, which is an achievement he chooses to ignore to keep pride from fogging his judgement. Other than when Jesse tells him how much praise she hears of him, of course. Today’s match would just have to be endured like every other match. All that remained was for the doors to open and the buzzer to screech across the arena.
He crouched down and stretched his legs while he waited.
The announcement system brought him to alertness soon enough.
“Good evening folks, we have an exciting match here for us tonight! Our betting table is just about to close, so if you haven’t already, go see our attendant at the exit to place a bet on our opponents. Without further ado, let’s introduce the competition!”
Espio watched as the stone gate to the arena opened in front of him. He took a deep breath and walked out into the light, listening to the cheers from the crowd.
“Over on my left, we’ve got the new but brutal chameleon, Spry. No history of competitive fighting with a clean win rate of 100% in his two weeks. Rumor has it, he killed his first opponent.”
“Did not happen…” Espio muttered to himself.
The gate at the other end of the arena lifted open, and he finally got to see his opponent .
“On the right, the legend herself, Rush! Five year fighter, fan favorite, 92% win rate, though the few who have beaten her rarely are heard from again, so who knows what happens behind the scenes?”
The crowd bursted into brief laughter.
Rush leisurely approached the centre, waving to the audience on both sides. Her pale red hair was tied up into a bun, spiky tufts sticking out over her face. A half-cut yellow top hung over her torso, baggy black pants covering some of her sneakers.
“Alright, folks, it is time. Our betting counter is now closed, and when you hear the buzzer, our opponents will fight until a knockout or a ten-second pin-down.”
Espio lowered himself into a ready position, listening to his heart thumping in his ears as a sort of metronome, using it to find a good rhythm in his movement.
The buzzer blared across the arena, and as her name suggested, Rush made the first move, instantly moving towards Espio.
He leaped to the side once she was close enough, pivoting off of one foot to face her again. Pouncing forward, he managed to grab a hold of her arm while she attempted to move out of the way.
Espio clutched her wrist with his other hand but before he could slam her to the ground, she leaped up, drove the tip of her sneaker right into the side of his face and twisted his arm at a weird angle, forcing him to let go while he staggered momentarily.
Ignoring the quite gross popping noise from his shoulder, he managed to recover before she could land another blow to his face, deflecting a punch with his left forearm and using the space to land a punch of his own.
The space between them continuously decreased as the two took turns blocking and punching; and right when Espio took a rather hard hit directly above his eye, his legs were swept out from under him.
He landed flat on his back, all the air in his lungs getting expelled immediately.
“Ten!” He could hear the announcer beginning to count down. Rush had already pushed her knee into his chest and began punching him left and right.
“Nine!” Espio’s throat burned with lack of oxygen, the immense pressure on his chest not helping. He clutched both of her fists and tried to wrangle her onto the ground.
“Eight!” She yanked her hands back, bringing Espio off the ground for a small moment before she brought him back down, hands clamping around his neck.
“Seven!” His hands flew up to Rush’s shoulders, desperately trying to shove her off of him.
“Six!” Shadows moved in on his vision, tears threatening to form.
“Five!” It wasn’t enough to shove her away, he had to make her get away. His arms barely made it far enough to reach her chest.
“Four!” He needed to destabilize her. Espio wrapped his hands around her wrists and with as much force as he could muster, jerked them inward, causing her grip to be loosened.
“Three!” Rush faltered forwards, allowing Espio to land a powerful jab directly in the centre of her chest. She stumbled backwards onto the ground.
“Two!” He placed one palm on the floor and scrambled to stand, but managed to push himself to a stand.
Rush had found footing herself, but luckily, Espio was more than fired up.
He dug his feet into the ground and advanced off to the right with a speed that kicked up dust, blinding the audience, and most importantly, his opponent.
Espio circled halfway around her, then once he saw that he was behind her, he swiftly closed the gap between them and sprung into the air.
He brought his right hand up above his head and slammed it down against the back of her skull, stumbling slightly on the landing while she collapsed at his feet.
The countdown buzzed in his ears, barely registering. All he could process was a thick red liquid coming down his face and how much his head and shoulder hurt.
It was only when the announcer came into the pit to raise his arm did he realize he had won.
—
“Didn’t doubt you for a second.” Jesse said, thumbing through a stack of cash.
Espio, with his own earnings safely in tow, was just about to leave for the night. “Yeah, sure.” He said, voice a bit rough from getting strangled.
“You sure you don’t want any help patching up?” She asked.
“Positive. I will tend to my injuries at home.”
Jesse sighed. “Alright. See you later, kid.”
“See you.”
As soon as he left the building, he knew it was a bad idea to have walked to work. His head felt like it was going to burst like an old pipe, and the shapes dancing in his vision weren’t exactly inviting him to go on a night time run.
Nevertheless, he had no other options, so a night time run it was.
He shakily lowered himself to the ground. Paying no mind to the throbbing behind his eyes, he pushed off.
The night breeze was still enjoyable, which he was grateful for. His legs were rather uninjured, so running didn’t hurt more than it should have.
Espio didn’t mind what happened to him at work. As long as he made enough money to keep his family comfortable, he would be fine.
When he arrived at the agency, he paused for a moment, leaning up against the wall beside the door. Running seemed to have kept his mind active, and now that he had slowed down, it had done the same.
He put a hand over the doorknob and twisted it, creaking the door open, and stepping in.
Almost immediately, something felt off. There was another presence— awake, at four in the morning.
He turned to look at the couch. What greeted him, he didn’t expect to see here.
“Hey, Espio.” On the couch, Silver said. His arms were folded over the chest, eyebrows closely knit.
Espio stood frozen. His quills glowed nicely in the moonlight, looking almost angelic, if not for how angry he looked at him. He didn’t know that Silver had come back, but he did know that he was very clearly injured. Nobody knew of his fighting job, and he didn’t want anyone to know.
“Hi, Silver.” He said swiftly. Instead of a response, there was only silence, so he took that as an opportunity to go to his room.
Only half a step in, he was stopped. “Where do you think you're going?” Silver questioned. He stood up from the couch and examined Espio closely. “How’d this happen…?”
“Don’t worry about it. You should go to sleep.”
He tried to walk away, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder, eliciting a small, pained hiss.
Silver’s hand jerked away, and Espio made the horrible decision to lock eyes with the hedgehog.
“Espio…” He whispered.
“I’m fi—“
“You’re not fine.”
He huffed out a struggling breath.
“Either I help you and you tell me what happened, or I let you help yourself and you tell Vector in the morning.”
Espio’s heart sank. He could handle worrying Silver, but Vector?
“…Alright.” He shuddered, finding it evidently harder to keep his head up.
Silver smiled. “Good.” He wrapped an arm around Espio’s waist and led him into the bathroom. Once inside he carefully set him on the floor, leaning against the bathtub and the wall.
Through half-lidded eyes he could see Silver rummaging through the cabinets to find the first-aid kit. Once he found it, he sat in front of him with the kit at his side.
He cupped Espio’s cheek and brought a wet cloth up to his face, gently cleaning the blood off.
“Y’know…” He started to say. “Vector was the one who told me to keep an eye out for you.”
Espio was too tired to respond, so he simply looked up at him.
Silver brought out a cold pack and pressed it against the side of his head. His eyes almost fluttered shut right there.
“He said he didn’t think you were sleeping, and that you were sneaking out at night.”
Keeping the cold pack in place with his telekinesis, Silver moved to Espio’s shoulder, studying it lightly. His hand moved down to around his tricep, then shoved his shoulder upwards in one abrupt and agonizing motion.
Espio flinched, a small noise escaping his mouth, barely above a whisper. His head slumped downwards.
“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Silver murmured closely, smoothing over his scales while his chest rose and fell shakily.
He swallowed thickly. “It’s fine.” Espio managed, biting his tongue to stop more embarrassing sounds from coming out.
“Okay… I think most of your injuries are on the head, can’t really do anything further than this.”
The chameleon nodded.
“Let’s get you some rest, and if you can, you’ll tell me what’s been happening.”
He nodded again.
“Okay.” Silver put his arms over his shoulders and pulled Espio to his feet, knowing he doesn’t like being carried.
Though his vision was almost completely lost as he stood, he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other. Their bedroom was only the next door over, so Espio didn’t have to go through it for long.
He sat down on the bed and collapsed against the headboard, Silver following along next to him and putting the cold pack back against his head.
Espio didn’t think he had the energy to explain what happened, even though it was as simple as; I make money fighting and got hurt.
He deserved a better explanation than that.
And no matter how badly he just wanted to close his eyes and rest, he owed Silver an explanation. He owed everyone an explanation for making them worry.
Espio turned his side to face the hedgehog, leaning into the cold material against his face as Silver lay his hand over it.
“You know how… we’re broke? Most of the time?” He mumbled as coherently as he could.
Silver turned onto his side as well. “Yeah?”
“I wanted to help. I don’t… It's hard seeing Vector have to choose between a winter jacket or toys for Charmy. And it’s hard to see Charmy worry about that, too. They—“
He was interrupted by a distasteful cough, not doing any favors to the banging in his head.
Once he caught his breath again, he continued, despite the protests from his aching throat and chest.
“…They deserve more than that. I looked around for jobs for a while but nothing worked. I got sick of waiting so I… I took up fighting.”
Silver adjusted the cold pack so he could see more of his face. “You… fight people for money?”
“Other fighters, yeah.” He breathed out. “I knew Vector would have wanted me to quit if I told him so…”
“So you never did.”
“Yeah.”
Silver stared at him in silence for a moment.
“How much have you made so far?”
Espio chuckled lightly. “Quite a bit.”
He considered that. “Enough to quit?”
“No, I… I want to make sure Vector and Charmy never have to worry about money again.”
“That’s…” Silver thought about it for a moment. “That’s really heroic of you but you also shouldn’t have to worry about this. Especially if you’ve made a lot.”
“…I know.”
Silver frowned.
“Alright, well, we can talk about it more in the morning. I want you to rest, okay?” He moved in closer, words moving like the sweetest of honey in Espio’s mind.
It took a bit for him to conjure a response. He was alright with continuing in the morning, but there was a burning question on his mind. “Are you going to tell Vector?”
“Nope.” He said, which gave him a good amount of relief. “I’ll let you do that.”
Espio fought his closing eyes for a moment more. “Thank you.” He said, shifting over to place his head against Silver’s chest.
Against him, he felt Silver tense for just a second, then he relaxed and wrapped his arms around the other.