Lag 6.6

  – o – o – o – o – o – o – o –?

  Multiple muffled screams of "my nose" didn't seem to make the situation any more serious to Greg Veder, at least from what Sparky could tell. Judging by his belly laughs and the way he pointed at Mal and his friends groaning in pain on the floor, it managed to accomplish quite literally the opposite.

  Granted, it was hard not to laugh at all of them on the verge of tears, not that Sparky held himself back much either. I mean, everyone else is laughing. Might as well join in. Truthfully, a large chunk of the crowd were in stitches themselves, the sight of Mal and his friends so quickly beaten by Greg Veder of all people hilarious to see, even more so when the air was still filled with cries of "by thode!" as the Empire kids clutched their bleeding and likely-broken noses.

  Despite having been knocked around the most, Mal still somehow found it in himself to rise to his feet, shaky as they were. Forcing himself to tear his hands away from where he had cradled his bruised face, the Kaiser Youth spat a mouthful of bloody phlegm to the alley floor, the action eliciting several loud "Eewwws" from the crowd that he willfully ignored.

  "Listen..." Greg began again, laughter fading away as he spoke, "listen, we're not so different you and me. Like, our hair colors are very similar, for one."

  Mal let out another hacking cough, stumbling back just a bit as he tried to stay upright. Even still, he pushed past it, body tense as his meaty hands clenched back again into tight fists.

  "Ew. Point is, Malcom, we live in a world of similar things. Lots of stuff is the same as other stuff." Greg's lips turned down in a slight grimace, head tilted to the side. "I forget where I was going with this but the takeaway is that your parents don't love each other or you."

  Malcolm bristled, uttering a mountain of swears under his breath and, without a doubt, in his own head. "I swear," he spat the words out, almost hissing them even. "Veder… I fuckin'..."

  "You fucking what?" Greg asked with a smile, Sparky's frown reappearing again as he watched his friend take a step forward, hands out in front of himself as if daring the junior to try something.

  Okay, fight's over. Sparky thought to himself, about to yell out to Greg to quit it. Too much of a good thing or whatever.

  "I h-h… Fuck you." Mal managed a bloody triumphant smile through the pain as he sneered back at Greg. "You and your fucking buttfag can go suck each other off."

  ...on the other hand, Sparky folded his arms, leaning back up against the alley wall as his eyes returned to their apathetic, half-lidded state. A couple more hits might teach him to shut the fuck up, I guess.

  "Now, that's just mean," Greg outright laughed, clearly enjoying how Mal seemed to flinch every time he did so, hits to his pride almost as damaging as those to his body. "You don't mean that. Like, I actually have a girl though."

  Mal grit his teeth and rose to his feet fully, fists clenched tight as he shouted out, "Fuck you and her! I hope that g-ginger bitch dies in the hospital!"

  Greg Veder froze in place.

  He wasn't the only one.

  Amber eyes widened as realisation crept into his thoughts slowly. A second or two later, it hit him all at once in a sudden wave of awareness.

  Sparky took a step forward.

  "... Greg."

  Both Sparky and Mal paled as they witnessed the playful and slightly vacant smile disappear from Greg's expression. "What did you just say?"

  Heart pounding in his chest, Sparky made to get in front of the blond, but he wasn't anywhere fast enough. By the time he had taken just one more, his friend was already right in front of his opponent, staring the taller boy in the face. The faint hostility on Greg's face ratcheted up without him even twitching as he leaned closer, eyes like ice.

  "I said, What did you just say?"

  Mal opened his mouth again, expression defiant if unwary, but he didn't get a chance to answer back. Five fingers wrapped themselves deftly around the junior's throat almost faster than anyone could see, keeping him from letting out a breath, let alone a sentence.

  "Greg!"

  The pressure around the bully's neck grew tighter despite the fingers around it not so much as twitching an inch, the bully's back pressed up against the chain link fence dividing the alley. Heavy, meaty hands beat at Greg Veder's face and body, yet he barely even blinked. His eyes remained focused, intently so on Mal's increasingly panicked expression, a growing fear visible in his eyes.

  "Brah, stop it." Sparky dropped his hand on Greg's outstretched arm and locked eyes with his friend. It took him all he had not to flinch as that anger was directed his way, grim seriousness more than unsettling on a face that just wasn't built for it. After a moment, though, the blond's expression quickly cooled as he met Sparky's eyes. "You don't gotta do this," he added, as he tightened his grip on Greg's arm in a reassuring squeeze.

  It didn't take long for Greg to nod, expression lightening as the tension faded from his face. Sparky felt his own mood rise slightly but not by much. Just a slight flicker of his eyes to the side let him know that someone's hand was still tight around someone else's neck, the second someone beginning to go blue in the face as he thrashed helplessly against Greg's grip.

  As if fighting against himself, the sophomore's hand trembled for a few seconds before he finally extricated his fingers from Mal's thick neck, the bully falling to the ground in a gasping heap of sweaty, bruised limbs.

  Letting go of a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding, Sparky spoke up again, "He's not worth it, okay? Trust me on this. You're better than him. You and me. Ain't that right, brah?"

  The entire alleyway was almost completely silent, apart from the hushed and quiet mutters of the crowd of high-schoolers that showed up expecting a murder and the fading groans of Malcolm's crew. With that, it was all too easy for Sparky to catch his friend's whispered reply.

  "...Yeah."

  "Can't hear ya." He threw an arm around Greg's shoulder and turned both of them around as he forced a smile onto his face. Before he spoke again, he began stepping towards the alley exit as naturally as he could, Greg following along. "What was that?"

  Greg smiled back, shaking his head. "I said, yeah. You heard me."

  "There we go," Sparky continued smiling, the expression starting to waver back to something more his usual expression, the teenager feeling more relaxed with every he took away from what was almost an attempted murder. he punctuated the last sentence with a lazy gesture to Mal and his friends on the ground. As the gathered mob of students parted to make way for both of them, Sparky let out another breath. "I thought I went deaf for a sec."

  "Holy shit."

  "I know."

  "Did you see Veder's guns? Fucker's shredded like cheese."

  "Right, like bro, where can I get those fucking 'roids?"

  "Yeah, Mal got fucked all the way up."

  "Like, is he gonna be okay?"

  "No idea, but did you know Veder was a fucking monster?"

  "Fuckin' hell, did he even get hit once?"

  "I heard he was on 'roids."

  "I heard he joined the Empire."

  "I heard Veder was gonna die."

  "Me too. I bet on Mal."

  "Fuck me, I'm out twenty bucks."

  "Why's he fighting Mal anyway?"

  "Dude, I don't know. I showed up to see a murder, not a massacre."

  "You think you can find what he's juicing with for cheap?"

  "Fuck, we gotta pay Veder lunch money now?"

  "Something happened to Barnes? Why's she in the hospital?"

  Holy shit. Sparky felt his eye twitch at the comments growing in volume around them as he tried to walk Greg out of the alley as quickly as possible. Could you retards shut the fuck up? They didn't understand the seriousness of what he was dealing with, Sparky very well knew that, but they just fucking saw the same thing he did. Pissing off the guy who did that just wasn't smart, in any fucking sense of the word.

  "Veder!"

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck me. The olive-skinned boy closed his eyes and sighed, head hanging down the instant he heard the angry, guttural scream.

  "Vederrrrrr!"

  A half-second later, he forced himself to bite back an audible curse as Greg stood up straighter at the voice calling his name a second time, unconsciously shrugging off Sparky's arm from his shoulder. His face hardened again, mouth once again a single flat line, as he turned around in the opposite direction.

  Sparky opened his eyes to sigh again and turned around, entirely aware of what he would see.

  And to his complete lack of surprise, he was right.

  Sparky, and everyone else within the confines of the alley, stared right at a beaten, bloody and bruised Malcolm Duncan. The junior was struggling to stay upright from the looks of him, breaths leaving him in hard, heavy gulps. His neck was already darkening from where Greg's fingers had tried to deprive him of air and the Empire member seemed to cradle his right arm on reflex, probably having hurt it somehow - maybe from falling on it wrong, Sparky mused.

  Smeared and half-dried blood marred the seventeen year-old's face, that along with the dampness of sweat did it's job in making him look even more of a deranged mess.

  Pulling himself up to full height, Mal shouted Greg's name one more time, clearly too angry to care about the fact that he was in no shape to fight.

  And yet, he charged forward anyway.

  Amber eyes flicked to his side to take in how his friend simply waited in place as Mal rushed forward. Greg seemed utterly unbothered by it, body language seemingly loose and unprepared, but Sparky knew better than to believe what his eyes told him. It's not like he needs to be ready. He wasn't sure exactly how strong the blond was right now, but judging from what he'd seen - what the entire internet had seen - Sparky was sure that letting him use that strength in anger was a bad idea.

  "I'll kill you!" Mal screamed out another pointless threat as he finally neared the smaller boy, swinging his fist like a hammer. Greg Veder ducked the first blow without a word, ducking to the right as Mal was sent scrambling to an unsteady stop from his own reckless momentum.

  The rampaging steroid user turned around, unhinged rage in his eyes, and made to rush forward again. "Fucking die alr-"

  Hard knuckles met a harder jaw.

  "FUCK! God fucking damnit! Shit!" Axel Ramon let the curses fly as he stepped forward and shook his aching hand, regretting that last decision even as Mal lay dazed on the ground in front of him. "Why the fu- whydididothat? Fuckmechristalmighty."

  "Wow. Nice job. I had that, though."

  Sparky slowly turned his head around to face the speaker, one hand cradling the other as his eyes watered from the pain, and did his best to flip his friend the bird. "What you had would have landed you in juvie. You're welcome."

  Greg's lip twitched and he began to snicker, his attempt to hold back a laugh failing almost immediately. "Thank you, bro. I'll buy you some lunch or whatever. My treat." He slapped his palm on his friend's back, eliciting a yelp of pain and a dirty look, but the blond just laughed even harder. "And some ice for that hand too."

  Asshole. He narrowed his eyes at his friend as Greg broke into another bout of laughter at that last comment. Fucking idiot. I half-broke my knuckles for this dumbass.

  Utterly tired of today already, Sparky shook his head, only to let out a slight hiss at the new source of pain that was his entire back. Gritting his teeth, he glanced down at Mal's face and stared him in the eye, the other boy clearly conscious but too beaten to move. "Know your fucking place, dipshit," He spat down next to his face, the bully not even flinching as the wad of spit barely missed his cheek. "That was me being nice."

  "Ooh, I got chills from that. Scary Sparky."

  The olive-skinned teenager rolled his eyes at that remark from Greg, simply shooting him a dirty look. "You're an idiot."

  Greg shrugged. "High-five?"

  Sparky shot him another glare, raising the single hand he was cradling.

  "Oh, shit, yeah, let's get you some ice on that." He threw a hand around Sparky's shoulders and began rambling in his own special way as he guided him towards the alley exit. "Ice first. Food stop later. I'm feeling… chinese?"

  With that, the duo casually made their way out of the alley with their business complete, leaving Malcolm Duncan to stare at their backs as they left, his face blank and expressionless.

  "Holy shit, that just happened."

  "I knoooooow."

  "Who knew Veder was a psycho?"

  "I knoooow."

  "What do we do with these guys? Are they knocked out or what?"

  "... I don't know."

  – o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

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