“Because…because I couldn’t just stand there as that pile of date rape stared at you like a dog in heat.”

“You don’t need to fight for me, Nate. This is ridiculous and you’re going to get hurt,” she said and lightly grabbed his small goatee. Nate went cranberry again. The two looked at each other for a long time in silence.

“Would you go to dinner with me?” he asked.

“Of course I will. You don't need to get your ass stomped to earn that.”

“I'm sorry,” Nate whispered, “but I can't drop the fight.” Nate threw his arms around her small frame and pulled her in close. Her arms found their way around him and they stood there for a moment, but Shannon broke the embrace.

“Why not? It's not like this is some professional thing. You're not even a registered fighter, for God's sake.”

“Because I can't just back out.. Your honor is at stake here, Shannon...” he trailed off and she stormed towards the exit.

“You're going to get yourself killed, Nate Coop. You can't win.” The silence that hit after the door slammed behind her rattled him more than her words.
**********************************************************************************************

“You scared?” Walt asked. He nodded to the bartender who had delivered their drinks.

“I've literally been on the verge of pooping my pants for two days now,” Nate said. Walt laughed and took a sip from his clear soda.

“Seriously though, I'm really scared,” Nate said, “I've never been in a fight before, much less against some pro.” Nate sighed and followed suit with a drink of soda, “I guess I'm doing it for love.”

“The power of love is a curious thing, make one man weep, make another man sing,” Walt said.

“Are you quoting me the theme from Back to the Future?” Nate asked. The attentions of both young men soon were grabbed by the Best of Hockey Brawls displayed on the screen at the end of the bar. Walt smiled when the men on ice slammed into one another and threw fists. To Nate, hockey brawls were all the same. Nate had been playing hockey games since he could first tie his own skates. After enough time on the ice, even if one avoided the fists like he always did, the concept of the hockey brawl broke down to basics. Mean words, pushing, head butt, a few fists, then jerseys pulled off. It was practically choreographed. The segment ended and attention were returned to topics at hand.

“Look, here's the deal,” Walt said. “This guy fights for a living, and he will probably beat the holy buh-jesus out of you, if not kill you.” Walt took off his glasses. Nate looked down at his drink, swirling the ice cubes around slowly. After a pause, the conversation picked up. “If you stand up to this douche though,” Walt said clenching his fist, “and better yet if you score a great hit, it'll speak volumes.”

“He's going to kill me.” Walt took a long drink from his soda.

“Look Rocky, you find yourself at this boss fight and there's not much you can do about it.” Nate nervously ran a hand through his hair. He thought about Shannon, and the beating he would endure for her, whether she wanted him to or not. “So I say, you've got no other option, so give him hell.”

“Yeah...” Nate said slowly running another hand through his hair.

“Get some sleep, Wolverine. You need rest.” Walt threw down three dollars and got up to leave. “And just for the record...I'm scared, too.”
*******************************************************************************************************

Nate's thin, handsome face was starting to bleed and swell. The morning was all a blur to him. He couldn't remember how he got to the gym, or what Walt had said to him before the match, or the first round for that matter. All he could think was the here and now, and how much it hurt.

“Is that all you haves, leettle boy?” Kardissa asked. He struck Nate again. Nate stumbled back and his left leg went out on him. Like a natural reaction, his gloved hand shot out and clung to the rope to keep himself from completely crumbling.

“Okay, fuck this, this fight is over,” Walter said from ringside.

“Give heem two more minutes,” Nate heard Irenev say, monotone as usual.

“What? And let your cousin kill my best friend?”

Nate rolled his drowsy head over to look for his friend. Walter was attempting to climb into the ring. Before Nate could make contact with him, a yellow and red boot kicked his arm and he hit the mat. Kardissa threw some more punches, now from above.

“Nate-thanial,” Rene called out, “fight like you're in hockey rink.”

The mispronunciation of his name caught Nate's attention, despite the pain he was in. The command took a few moments to settle in Nate's beaten brain, but when the idea held to the cells, his body began to react. Reaching some kind of epiphany, Nate closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Kardissa paused his assault. He leaned in closer to see if he could feel Nate breathing. Without a word, Nate threw his head forward, smashing Kardissa's nose. Kardissa let out a yelp of shock as Nate sloppily flung a gloved fist into the foreigner's sternum. With Kardissa on the defensive, Nate scrambled to his feet, woozy, but finally vertical. The dark eyes of the opponent flashed as Nate steadied himself and threw a few jabs into the pale flesh.

Nate snuck a glance to the outside the battleground, to see Walt and Shannon hold one collective look of shock and awe. Rene remained unmoved, it seemed, simply watching. Nate snapped back to the fight to see Kardissa twist his frame to try and fire out a shot of offense. Nate bombarded him with punches and knees. Kardissa backed up in a panic, and Nate focused and closed any gap between the two. Kardissa reached out and pleaded in his muffled native tongue. Nate threw a few more jabs into Russian ribs. The ring of the bell snapped Nate out of his trance, reality slowly bleeding back into focus in his one opened eye. Breathing heavily, both fighters went to their corners to make their feeble attempts to heal.

Kardissa spit his mouth guard out bitterly as he looked over his shoulder at Nate. The blue-eyed hockey player drummed up a laugh with Walter as he sat in his corner. The bell soon rang and Kardissa ran towards his opponent.

Before Nate could even get a steady stance, glove bit his face. Nate was jarred by this cheap shot, and the next one finished the job. Without hesitation, Kardissa's fist smashed against the side of Nate's head. Everything went into slow motion as Nate's body crumbled from under him. All he could hear was the slew of broken-English swears coming from his villain as he took one last look at Shannon and hit the mat.