It wasn't like he was a fighter.
His limbs were too stringy, frail. His moves were sloppy, more uncoordinated than the ropes tied around his brain strangling his thoughts into one big puddle of anxiety.
He wore gloves to fight, everyone had talked about it.
It was the germs, always the germs.
"Tighten up man, it's a fight not some video game."
Vance had talked to him a few weeks ago, bombarded him while he was shopping for his monthly tub of ice cream. Told him that he needed to stand up for himself, to stop taking shit from people who were going to grow up cleaning it.
Nothing that Robin hadn't said already.
"I haven't fought anyone before."
It was laughter that shoved past him then, a sound he wasn't used to from his classmate. Vance had tied both of their hair in buns, said it'd help out in the long run.
"Have you ever been angry? Like, have you ever been so pissed off you wanted to set the world on fire?"
The words yanked at his brain, reminding.
Sure, yeah.
"You've got that look in your eye. I can tell."
It didn't take long for Vance to teach him how to fight. Not when he was constantly yelling, his words drowned out by memories of his father doing the same thing.
He could even smell the beer.
"Surprised that idiot didn't teach you this shit."
Vance had smiled when he said that.
It was comforting, kind of.
"Yeah, well. He's been busy I guess."
Vance had flicked him on the head, childishly. He had a goofy grin on his face now, something that didn't fit like it should.
"You can be my fighting buddy. Promise I'll go easy on ya'."
Yeah, they had become good friends after that.
Three weeks later and he was there.
Gloves slid over his hands like blankets, but for germs.
He wanted to wear goggles too, but they'd been broken by Vance.
"You're a nerd."
It was a joke, laughter pouring out of mouths like a waterfall of humor.
He hadn't minded.
"Fuck him up, okay? You've got this buddy."
He had the strength of two of the toughest kids by his side.
He wouldn't put their efforts to waste, their words.
The boy in front of him was tall, skinny though.
He wasn't Vance.
He wasn't Robin.
He wasn't his dad.
He'd be fine.
"Dude, stop worrying so much. The worst that could happen is you getting knocked out. Just stand your ground, I have your back."
He was muttering underneath his breath, something he couldn't hear himself.
The students gathered around were blurry.
He wasn't crying.
Couldn't be.
"Get him Finney!"
"Fuck him up!"
"Show him what you got man!"
Finney smiled to himself, adjusting his feet into a good position. His head slipped to the side, taunting.
A smirk slipped over his face as the boy in front of him moved as well, stepping forward.
"You're nothing Finney Blake."
Finney shrugged at that, laughing slightly.
"Don't worry, I know that."
He had won the fight only five minutes later.
His gloves had been yanked off, red beads dripping from it like the remains of faucet water.
He had a smile on his face the entire time, scary.
Vance had patted his back, Robin hugging him until he could feel his lungs almost splintering apart.
"You did fucking amazing."
"I'm proud man."
The third toughest boy in school.
He was good with that.
YOU ARE READING
BRANCE + RINNEY
Fanfiction𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒 of my favorite ships from 'The Black Phone'. 🧠🥊
