Knockout • OT4

9 - Silence

"Did you know?"

"To that extent? Absolutely no-"

"That's not what I asked."

Michael shifted slightly from where he laid on the benches, trying to come to his senses again. He's been hearing voices for a good 10 minutes already, but this is the first of what he was able to comprehend.

They sounded angry, distressed.

"Mate, I think you should be asking yourself that question. How didn't you know what was going on the in the ring you supposedly rule-"

The speaker never stood a chance, his words being knocked out of him suddenly with a punch that sounded all too familiar to the drowsy fighter.

It was a punch to the left cheek, just below the eye socket.

Michael would know, Luke's hit him there a couple of times.

"Better fuckin' watch what comes out of that mouth next, Samuel."

'Who the fuck was Samuel?' was all that was floating around a barely conscious mind of the red haired boy.

"Better fuckin' know your fighters better, huh mate?" the voice now known as Samuel taunted back. Michael subconsciously winced at the death wish being brought on by the man.

The beats of skin echoed through the locker room, the sound of bone crushing under the weight only followed suit.

"Get the fuck out of here, if I see you here anytime within the next week I'll personally make sure you're fuckin' beaten and broken from head to toe. Am I clear?" Luke spat. His voice was strangely calm yet held so much anger.

Michael shivered.

"Go fuck yourself mate." Samuel replied, the sounds of ruffling and rummaging rung through the drowsy boys ears. He could only assume the man was packing his belongings to get as far away as possible from this newfound hell hole.

When he hears the door shut, the red haired boxer took that as an opportunity to open his eyes, squinting them under the cold lighting of the room.

They weren't welcoming, far from, cold and uneasy would be the right words to describe it. But it was a boxing ring, not a home. That's how it's supposed to be, it's supposed to spark fear and adrenaline to keep you on your toes at all times.

"You."

Michaels fucked.

"I know you're awake, Punk. The fuck happened to you?" he muttered, taking a seat above the boys resting head.

His voice has quieted down however from the previous encounter the man had. He still sounded authoritative, still angry even, but.. different. It was unfamiliar to Michael. He's never heard Luke like this before.. or, any of them for that matter.

All Michael could do was shrug, terrified his voice wouldn't do him justice.

It's hard not to sound and be vulnerable after being in that state when the people you fear most witness it. Michael was just hoping it wouldn't lead to harder 'punishments' in the ring.

Luke slumped his back against the cold wall, arms crossing across his chest. His hair was growing out ever so slightly compared to what Michael saw and grew used to when he first started out at the gym.