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Sometimes Violence Isn't The Answer

Summary:

Right Hand Man and Terrence Suave have an argument over Randy's inability to lead the clan. They agree to settle the argument with a fight. With almost the entire clan gathering around to watch, no one is going to get seriously hurt...

right?

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Right pulled his top over his head. He scowled to himself. He couldn't believe Terrence. It was delusional to think that Randy wasn't going to run them into bankruptcy. Right didn't need to have access to their funds to know that. Randy's insistence on getting smashed every other day without ever going on a mission or a raid was going to fuck them over. Right wasn't going to stay silent about it either.

When Terrence had brought up what a great leader Randy was, Right had to shut him up. Randy was a liability. He might not get them all killed but he'd definitely make them so poor that they might end up dead anyway. Right wasn't about to let him get away with it without a single complaint from anyone within the clan.

A knock at the door broke him out of his train of thought.

"What d'you want?" The door opened and Right turned around, face morphed into rage. He hadn't agreed to the person coming in. Right didn't have a top on and he was pissed off as it was. He wasn't in the mood for someone invading his privacy as well. The person stepped into the room and Right tensed, preparing to shout at them.

"Right?" Right's rage melted away instantaneously. It was Reginald. Thrown off, Right shifted in place, rolling his shoulders back to try and regain his composure. Reg had his head held high and his face was carefully composed to look completely calm. Right could see straight through it. Anxiety made Reginald play with the edge of his gloves. Anxiety set Reginald's jaw, making it tense. Reginald's eyes were slightly too wide, as if he were under threat.

"Reg." Right greeted him. He turned his back on Reginald, facing his bed. He winced at how cold he sounded. Right fiddled with his top as he waited for Reginald to say something. After Reginald said nothing, Right pulled it on over his head and adjusted it. Reginald still hadn't said a single word. Right didn't want to turn around, knowing full well Reginald would have that horrible expression he wore when he looked upset. Every time Right saw it, it made him want to be sick with how guilty it made him feel.

"Reg?" Right still didn't turn around, not wanting to see Reginald's face.

"He's going to kill you." Reginald's voice made Right jump slightly. Right bit down on the inside of his lip, frowning as he turned to face Reginald.

"He's not going to kill me. He's beat me in a fight once and that was because he "shot" me." Right made air-quotes with his fingers. He hadn't actually been shot. It had been lasers and Terrence had just managed to aim faster than Right had and had hit all of Right's targets within thirty seconds. Terrence had bragged about it for weeks until Right had challenged him to a rematch and shot Terrence's targets within ten seconds.

Terrence hadn't spoken to him for a month after that.

Reginald still had that horrible, almost teary, scowl on his face.

"Terrence is furious. He's already in the arena, bragging about how amazing he is." Reginald leant against the doorframe, wrapping his arms around himself. Right pocketed his dagger and walked towards Reginald.

"Yeah, but he doesn't 'ave a gun. We agreed no guns." Right hesitantly placed a hand on Reginald's bicep. There was a beat of silence before Reginald leant into him. Right sighed, tentatively wrapping his arms around Reginald. He still wasn't good at this. Reginald was touchy and Right really, really wasn't.

"Okay." Reginald gave in and Right patted his shoulder.

"I'll be fine. Promise."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Right walked into the arena. It was mostly used for training, but every now and again, it would be used to settle an argument.

Right exhaled through his nose, looking around. Pretty much everyone was there. Except for Randy. Right could only assume that Terrence hadn't mentioned the argument to him to save his feelings. Right scoffed to himself. Within a month, the clan would turn on Randy and appoint a new leader. It was inevitable unless Randy suddenly turned around and started sending them all out on raids again. Right couldn't see that happening.

He walked into the centre of the room, glancing around again. He was trying to find Reginald. Right wouldn't have been surprised if Reginald hadn't shown up. Reginald had been so upset with him earlier. Right didn't blame him. He guessed that it was hard to date someone whose life was constantly at risk. Right was lucky. Reginald rarely ever risked his life. Not properly, anyway. Reginald didn't throw himself into fights or get into violent arguments. Reginald charmed his way through everything.

"Right!" Right heard Terrence's voice and then felt him clap him on the back. Right said nothing, just giving Terrence a cold smile. The look Terrence was giving him was unsettling. It was like Terrence was sizing him up. It was like Terrence was looking for weak spots. Right just watched him, keeping his expression carefully neutral.

Right looked around again, finally catching Reginald's eye. Right offered him a small smile, which Reginald returned, thin-lipped and anxious. Right watched him for a second longer before turning back to Terrence.

"Let's get this over 'n' done with, yeah?" Right turned his back on Terrence, taking a few steps away from him so he was the proper distance away. Right patted down his pocket, making sure the dagger was still in there.

It was.

Right glanced over at Terrence who was facing opposite him and then over at Carol Cross who was standing just outside of the arena, protected by the strings that separated her and the rest of the clan from Right and Terrence.

Carol met his gaze and watched him for a few seconds before looking away.

“Alright.” Carol lifted her hand into the air, raising her voice to draw in everyone’s attention. The loud chatter from the rest of the clan fell silent. Right drew in a breath, patting at his pocket again to make sure his dagger was in there. He wouldn’t use it if he didn’t need to. His intention wasn’t to harm Terrence, it was to settle the argument.

“As per usual, the only rules are; don’t kill each other and don’t cause unnecessary damage. Oh, and, you both agreed on no guns.” Right watched as Carol drew in a slow breath. “I will give you both the countdown. Only once I’ve gotten to one can you begin the fight.”

Right turned his gaze to look at Terrence. Terrence was watching him. Right didn’t understand why he was so nervous. He was an infinitely better fighter than Terrence. Terrence had never won a proper fight against him. Right had no reason to worry about the outcome.

He would be fine. The fight would last a couple minutes at the most, and then it would be over and Terrence would have to accept that he’d lost.

Right would be fine. There was nothing to worry about.

“Three.”

Carol began to count and Right tensed up, feeling his body automatically move into a defensive stance. Terrence did the same.

“Two.”

Right tilted his head from side to side, releasing the tension in his neck.

“One.”

Silence.

Right stared Terrence down.

Neither of them moved.

Right rolled his shoulders back. Terrence’s stare burned into him. He could feel the eyes of the rest of the clan on him. Right drew in a slow, steady breath, letting it out again slowly. Calm. Collected.

And then Terrence pounced. He was on Right within a second. Right swung, feeling his fist connect with Terrence’s shoulder just as he felt Terrence punch him in the face.

Right staggered backwards, tears blurring his vision as his nose stung with the pain. He grabbed Terrence’s arm as he just barely saw another fist swing at him, pulling Terrence forwards to try and destabilise him. He heard Terrence’s grunt of frustration as he blinked the tears out of his vision.

Terrence was still upright. Just barely.

Right kicked him in the side, sending Terrence sprawling onto his back. Right joined him on the floor moments later, trying to pin Terrence down. Another easy victory was seconds away. He would pin Terrence to the floor, immobilising him and Terrence would yield. It was routine. It was easy.

Right managed to get a grip on one of Terrence’s flailing arms, pinning it down to the floor of the arena. He reached out to grab the other.

And then a sharp stabbing pain shot up Right’s side. Right let out a gasp. The force of whatever had hit him made him lean to the side. Right was kicked off of Terrence, making him fall backwards. His head hit the floor, making him lose concentration for a split second.

Terrence was on top of him, knife in hand, plunging it straight down. Terrence was aiming for his neck. Panic shot through Right. Terrence wasn’t just trying to get him to yield. Terrence was trying to kill him.

Right grabbed Terrence’s wrist, holding Terrence and the knife inches above him.

Right tried desperately to push Terrence up, eyes focused on the knife in front of him. Then he looked up, looking Terrence in the eyes.

There was an indescribable look on Terrence’s face. It was terrifying. Right struggled beneath him. He could hear the clan shouting around them. There was no call for the fight to end. No one had realised. No one had realised that Terrence was actively trying to kill him.

The dagger.

Right had a dagger in his pocket. He struggled for a second, trying to hold Terrence off with just one hand so he could reach for his dagger. He kept his eyes on the knife over his body, suddenly removing his right hand from the grip he had on Terrence and using all the strength he had to push Terrence up.

He grabbed the dagger in his pocket, changing his grip on it so he could stab it straight into Terrence’s side.

Terrence howled, removing the majority of his weight off of Right as he leant back to clutch at the wound in his side.

Right scrambled out from underneath him, turning his back on Terrence to get onto his feet. Right took a couple of steps forwards, dragging his hands through his hair. His mind felt blurry and he couldn’t figure out why. His body ached and he could feel blood dripping down his face from what he could only assume was his broken nose. There was a voice in the back of his head telling him that something was wrong. Something was missing. Right had overlooked something.

He could hear the clan shouting but couldn’t make out anything being said. Right glanced around, making eye contact with a clearly terrified Reg. Reg was pointing behind him, shouting something that Right couldn’t hear, terror etched into every corner of Reginald’s face. Right realised what he had forgotten.

There had been no call for an end to the fight.

Right spun back around just in time for Terrence to come crashing into him. The force of the impact sent both of them onto the ground. Right used the momentum to send Terrence flying off of him. He heard the sound of the impact of Terrence hitting the floor.

Right went for him, seeing the knife still in Terrence’s hand. He had no idea where his own knife had gone so his only option was to wrestle the knife out of Terrence’s grip.

He grabbed Terrence’s arm, trying to force his hand open so he could steal the knife off of him. Right felt Terrence grab at his hair, pulling hard at the roots. He clenched his teeth, ignoring the pain of it. Terrence flailed wildly at his face, hitting him in the nose again. Right could feel the burn and tears blurred his vision once again.

He blinked repeatedly, allowing the tears to roll slowly down his face as he managed to shove Terrence backwards. Right received a kick just below his ribs and he heard the whine of pain that left him. It was humiliating.

Right slammed his fist into Terrence’s hip. It gave him just enough time for him to get back on top of Terrence, pinning everything but Terrence’s arms to the floor. Terrence swung at him again, managing to clip Right’s jaw with the knife. Right caught Terrence’s arm, shoving it down to Terrence’s chest. He grabbed Terrence’s other arm, pinning it down with the other one as he wrestled the knife out of Terrence’s grip.

Right had it. Right had the knife. He held it out so it was just against Terrence’s throat. He watched as Terrence flinched, shutting his eyes tightly as if expecting Right to kill him.

Right didn’t move, breathing heavily as he waited for Carol to call the end to the fight.

Terrence met his eyes again and they stared each other down. Right could still feel the wetness of tears on his cheeks. His eyes weren’t even watering anymore. He could feel the blood dripping into his mouth from his nose. His whole face felt aflame. There were slow, aching pains in his back, stomach and side.

He could hear the whole clan shouting in excitement. Right wanted to look over at Reginald but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Terrence. He couldn’t risk it.

“And Right wins!” Carol called the end of the fight and Right let out a shaky breath of relief. He remained where he was for a second before slowly and unsteadily rolling off of Terrence’s body, letting go of his arms.

Right sat beside Terrence, watching out of the corner of his eye as Terrence was helped up by several people. They were all blabbering on about how good of a fight Terrence had put up and how they had thought, at one point, that Terrence would have won.

Right got hundreds of congratulations and comments about how good of a fight it had been as people started filtering out of the arena.

Right allowed himself to slowly lie back, agony starting to pulse through his body as the adrenaline faded. He could feel himself shaking as he tried to even out his breaths. He closed his eyes, resting his hand on his chest as his breathing began to slow.

“Right?” Right recognised Reg’s voice immediately.

“Yeah, Reg?” He reached out blindly, trying to take Reg’s hand. His eyes flew open as he felt himself being lifted up and set down again. He was being lifted on a stretcher.

“Don’t pass out.”

That was the only thing Reg said to him until they reached the infirmary.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Right winced as Reg gently wiped the blood away from around his nose. Reginald looked furious and Right couldn’t tell if it was at him, Terrence or both of them. Reg wouldn't look him in the eyes even as he wiped the blood off of Right’s chin.

As it turned out, Right had been stabbed in the side and had suffered slash wounds to his back and to his face. Luckily, the wound on his face wouldn’t scar but the other two wounds probably would. His back and side had been stitched and now Reg was cleaning the rest of the blood off of him.

Reginald let out a slow and heavy sigh. Right pursed his lips together, hesitating before reaching out to try and take Reg’s hand. Reginald stared at his hand before slowly taking it and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Right could feel the apology on his lips, struggling with turning it into words. Reg finally, properly looked at him and Right opened his mouth, only for silence to come out. Reginald watched him silently, gently stroking the back of his hand with his thumb.

“‘m sorry.” Right looked down at their hands, suddenly unable to look Reg in the face, shame overwhelming him. He heard Reg sigh softly. Right felt him brush a strand of hair out of his face.

“I know.” Reg finally spoke to him. It wasn’t forgiveness, and it wasn’t okay, but Reg was talking to him again. Right squeezed Reg’s hand tightly. There was a beat of silence before Reginald started talking again.

“God, I just-” Reginald hesitated for a second. “You just- I can’t believe that you turned your back on him.” Right lifted his head, meeting Reg’s eyes. Reginald looked scared. Scared and angry.

“I wasn’ thinkin’.” Right tried to explain, not managing to find all the words to say everything he wanted to say.

“I know.” Reg looked down, going quiet again. Right knew Reginald well enough now to know that Reg was just trying really hard to have a proper conversation instead of an argument.

Right bit down on his lip, holding onto Reg’s hand with both of his own as he tried to come up with all the words he wanted to say. The silence stretched between them as Right continued to struggle for words, finding it impossible to explain what had happened and why he had let his guard down.

“Right, I can’t lose you.” Reg whispered, bringing Right’s hands closer to him. He gently stroked the back of Right’s hands with his thumbs, staring down at where they rested. Right frowned, confusion overwriting the guilt. That didn’t make sense.

“Y’not gonna lose me.” Right leant forwards, ignoring the protest his side made at the movement. “I still won the fight. Just got a bit injured in the process.” Reg let out a noise that could have been a laugh, a sob or a scoff; Right couldn’t tell.

“A bit injured.” Reginald repeated, “That’s a bit of an understatement.” Right shifted in his seat, trying to think up of a way to make Reginald feel better.

“Reg, I’m okay.” Right tried to pull Reg closer. Reginald gently scooted his chair forwards so that his legs were in between both of Right’s. Reginald gave him a tired, almost disbelieving look. Right leaned forwards to press a kiss to Reg’s cheek, squeezing his hands tightly.

“If that’s the worst I can get with my guard down then I don’t think I’ve got anythin’ to worry about.” Right added on.

“I know.” Reginald leant forwards ever so slightly as Right pulled away. Reg looked like he was battling with himself. “You just- scare me. I want you to be safe.” Reginald lifted his head to look Right in the eyes.

“Y’might be in the wrong business then, Reg.” Reginald let out a loud sigh, flopping backwards into his chair.

“I know, I know.”

“Plus, Terrence probably won’t ever speak to me again after this so, you’ve got nothin’ to worry about.” Right smirked as a small smile crept onto Reginald’s face. Reg shuffled closer to him, leaning forwards to just barely rest his head on Right’s shoulder. Right laughed softly, gently lifting Reg off of him so he could move their chairs next to each other. Reg immediately rested his head back on Right’s shoulder.

“I love you.” Reg whispered, taking Right’s hand in his.

“Love ya too, Reg.”