Wait and Bleed

[Dean Harper]

The camera comes on to Dean standing at the rusted gates of an abandoned amusement park, its once vibrant colors now faded and peeling. The air was thick with an eerie silence, broken only by the occasional creak of the dilapidated rides swaying in the wind. The park had been closed for decades, shrouded in mystery and rumors of hauntings.

“You want to know what I enjoy? Sure, winning is nice. I love winning, I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t. But I enjoy the chance to get some fresh meat every once in a while. That’s something I missed from being a World Champion. People have a lot of opinions on how I got there, sure. But once you get to the top of the mountain people forget just how you just have to sit there and watch other people have fun. I love fighting week after week. That’s why I love Heir to the throne. Weekly fights. It’s perfection. A real chance to just unleash the monster without having to wait too long for the next meal.” Dean pushed the gate open, its hinges groaning in protest. As he stepped inside, the atmosphere seemed to shift. “I live to fight and I fight to live.”

“April and I aren’t besties by any measure. But she’s growing on me like a fungus. It almost reminds me of better times. What it felt like to have someone on your side and at your back. Plus she’s pulling her weight. She’s more than able to seal the deal if I need her to. And that’s all that matters, isn’t it? Here we are tied for the top points. I could almost say I’m proud. If I was more trusting I’d say some things about trust and family. But I’ve been burned too often to be that trusting again. We make a decent team. And this week we are fighting one of her stable members, so excuse me if I’m hesitant to assume she might not try to fuck me over.” He made his way through the overgrown paths, passing by a carousel with motionless horses, their eyes seeming to follow him. “I remember the conflict of being in a tournament against someone you considered closer than family, deeper than blood. Let this be a first lesson, the little sister of my little sister, they’ll grind you under boot for their advancement. Every. Time. The only person you can trust is yourself. But if you’re too conflicted I’ll handle the weight, it’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

---

Damien wanted to see Disneyland and Dean would never deny his son anything he wanted. He’d sent an invite to Brooklyn and April. An olive branch. He needed April to keep her mind on them being a team and ignore the urge to pick Vivienne’s happiness over their chance at winning. Disneyland had been a big field trip for The Pack once, a risk of nostalgia but one he was willing to take.

“Going to Disneyland with Brooklyn and April,” Dean mentioned casually to Warren as his husband walked out of the shower to see Damien and Dean getting their stuff together. “You can come if you want.”

“What do you think buddy?” Warren asked Damien. “Would you like me to come?”

“Dad says you and Auntie Brooklyn don’t like each other. If you want to come I’d be happy but I don’t want you to be sad.” Damien smiled at Warren, Dean winced at Damien calling Brooklyn ‘Auntie’, worried it’d be a fight.

“Brooklyn doesn’t know me,” Warren said softly, “I wouldn’t be going for her.”

“Do you want to come?” Damien asked hopeful tone as he looked at Warren. “It’ll be fun.”

“Sure,” Warren ruffled Damien’s hair.

Dean smiled, sending a quick text letting Brooklyn know Warren was coming too. This had a chance to go badly...but hopefully Warren could keep it together for Dean's sake at least.

---

“Drunken gods of slaughter, know I’ve always been your favorite son. And you keep giving me such nice gifts.”

The funhouse loomed ahead, its entrance a grotesque clown face frozen in a maniacal grin.

“Hey Starlight, long time no spoon. By the time we see each other in the ring, you’ll have sealed the deal, huh? The third time is the charm. Lots of people have been shit-talking your choice of men but hey, I get it. You like danger. You like a man that can make you feel protected and would kill for you. Do you tend to be too trusting and overlook more red flags than anyone I know, besides myself? Sure. There was a time when we were almost friends, almost. I could pretend that I don’t remember the time when your man didn’t drag my unconscious body and hide me at your house for a couple of weeks before Caleb and Warren put the screws to him to get me back to The compound. I could pretend we didn’t spend months after being roomies at the compound too, I know you better than a lot of your besties. People think the turn to Rowan’s Murder was a shocking reveal. But I saw you. I know you. Hell, I was on the other side of the wall from your bedroom for a while. I know how much the rage and the madness is in your bones. April might be your sister in the faction but you want gold more than friendship. April is gonna learn that this week too. It’s a pity we can’t dance. I’m sure we could make some really beautiful pain together. But another time. I’m sure there’ll be time for The Murder to be done with my assistance to April and you’ll want payment for all my past sins. I look forward to it, Viv.”

Inside, the mirrors were cracked and distorted, reflecting twisted versions of himself. The floorboards creaked under his weight, and he could hear faint whispers echoing through the halls. “Which brings me to the big man himself. Hi, You don’t know me. But if I understand things right you’re the one who trained Warren, right? You got him all ready to try and take the world title. I’ve been watching your work. Top-tier stuff. Pity about your personality of course, but I’ve already been warned not to flirt with you. You’ve got the fragile masculinity that would beat a f*g like me to death behind a bar and say it was for your safety, right? Don’t worry, you’re not my type. Sure, you’re cruel and violent enough. But The whole Alpha male traditional gender roles thing is only hot in high school. Sure, Warren’s got a little of your issues but it comes off a lot less impactful when you’ve seen him in thigh-high white leather boots. Fashion has never been my lover’s area.” Dean walks out of the funhouse to into a large room, its centerpiece a massive, rusted Ferris wheel. The structure groaned as it slowly began to turn, powered by an unseen force.

“Truth is you don’t scare me, big man. Sure, you hit hard. Sure you got starlight on a leash, and sure you’re practically bosom buddies with my husband. You might even think you know me. You might think you can come and break the cockholster I call a mouth. But you’re all for show. All the macho masculine energy is bullshit? It’s a cover. You might be stronger than me. Bigger than me. But I survived a childhood of getting those beatings from men just like you. You don’t scare me. I’ve met hundreds of men like you in my small town growing up. Hundreds. You are all the same. It’s funny that dinosaurs like you still exist in this world. Only a matter of time before Vivienne finally does something you don’t like and you finally become the man you tell yourself you’re not? How long until you put your hands on your kids because one of them isn’t manly enough or heaven forbid gay? You tell yourself you’re different, but we both know you’re not. The only reason you tolerate Warren is because he tries so hard to be the nice kind of gay who keeps it subtle. I’m not self-hating enough. I’m everything you hate. I’m too fucking queer and the fact I do better at this sport than you ever could fucking pisses you off. So consider this a chance to try and smear the queer, big man. And when I win I want you to really savor that I did it despite being who and what I am.”