Not So Jolly Christmas

Clyde writhed on the floor, hugging the back of his head following the german supelx, gritting his teeth and trahsing about with his eyes shut tight as he endured the pain and the ringing that engulfed his skull.

The cowboy would hear a familiar voice beside him, prompting him to open an eye to see that it was Carmen. Finally, someone who wasn't trying to kill him. At least for now. Though she seemd to be on his side as she immediately went to scold her brother about the fight that clearly took place. Clyde didn't give him a chance.

"'Cause IT IS yer fault, jackass!" Clyde snapped angrily from the gym floor.

Carmen didn't know Clyde all that well, all things considered. Yes, they'd wrestled, and it had been a fun match, and she tried to keep up with his matches as best as she could with her schedule. She thought he was a decent guy, but she'd been wrong about people she knew far better before.

Army, though? She knew him. She'd changed his dirty diapers. And while he'd made some improvements in the last few months, he was still, in many ways, that same little whiny kid that she had to save every time he started fights with Antonio Martinez and got his ass whipped.

"Come on, let's get you standing, vaquero." She ducked down and started to help Clyde up to his feet, slinging his arm over shoulder and rising up with him in tow. "Tell me what happened."

Army sat up and took a few stripes from his taped fist to plug up his nose. "I was fucking minding my own business when this motherfucker-"

"Army." She shot Army their mother's look and spoke in their mother's voice. It silenced him, quick. Always did. "Cayate." Carmen looked back to Clyde as the softness returned. "What. Happened?

Clyde put his arm over Carmen's shoulder and with her assistance, stood himself up, but never once taking his eyes off Army. The adrenaline of the fight having worn down, but the cowboy was cautious as ever.

Hearing the two go back and forth though, reminded Clyde of himself and Bonnie. Though Clyde felt a tad bit guilty, he didn't feel this fight wasn't completely not his fault.

"...I came in look fer you." Clyde gave Army a look before going back to Carmen. "And he got all testy with me bein' here and I wasn't in the mood fer it. So we fought." Clyde said simply enough.

Yeah, that sounded about right.

"'Testy'." She repeated and spared a glance Army's way. "Okay, Army, what's with the stink?"

Army was too busy wiping off his nose to answer right away, but he managed it after a moment and turned her way. His nose was looking a little crooked, too, probably needed to get that checked. "Like you give a shit." He blew his nose and unleashed a fresh spew of blood all over his arm. "Motherfucker comes in here-"

"Army."

"Sorry." Army held up his hand and took on the nicest, sweetest, fakest tone he could muster. "Clyde came in and I found his behavior to be extremely rude. So I kindly  asked him to leave."

"...with your fist."

"With my fist, yeah."

"Right." She ran a hand through her hair and sighed, wondering what life would be like if Army had been born a girl. Somehow, she felt it would have avoided this whole situation.

Clyde was nursing the back of his ringing head as the siblings went at it, even cutting in when Army tried to pin it all on Clyde. "Oh bullshit, ya lyin' turd!" He spat, pulling down his eyelid with one finger and sticking his tongue out at Army. Too much time in Japan had certainty changed him.

He later gave an amused snort as their snarky little conversation went back and forth between them.

"I replied with my foot." Clyde added smugly before looking down at his loafers to see if they had been scuffed.

Army folded his arms and huffed, looking like he was ready to go back at it with a moment's notice. "More like a whisper."

Carmen ran a hand over her face and groaned as it came down, vainly hoping that this headache would be gone by the time her vision was clear again. It wasn't, of course, but the thought was lovely. "Que Dios le tenga piedad. Okay," She pointed her finger at Army. "Hit the showers, clean up, go home. We'll talk about this when I get in."

"But-"

She put some more bass in her voice. "Hit the showers, clean up, go home. We'll tallk about this when I get in."

"Fine, fine." He held out his hand, and Carmen knew what the next words out of his mouth would be. They didn't live too far away, and she'd just dropped him off here to workout and clean up. "Let me see the car keys."

He was probably under the impression that she'd catch a ride with Clyde or a cab something. He was wrong."No." She leaned against the ring apron and started to kick off her shoes. Hated high heels. Always hated them. "You're walking."

His eyes narrowed into fiery slits. "You can't be serious."

"Muy grave." Carmen kicked her shoes off to the far corner. "Walk. Only four miles. You need the fresh air."

Army stepped forward like he was about to do something, but a glare put him in his place. He was like a dog, sometimes. You had to establish dominance. "Whatever." He grunted and turned around, going straight for the showers."Have fun with your girlfriend. Didn't know you liked blondes."

Carmen rolled her eyes as she turned back to Clyde. "I'm sorry. Army's a good guy, he just doesn't...think too much. Or at all." Yeah, weak excuse. "Sorry. Again. You okay?"

Clyde laughed as Army called him Carmen's girlfriend. He waved goodbye to the bruiser as he was sent home.

Clyde turned to Carmen. "Naw it's cool." He said, mostly lying. "I had worse." He told her, going quiet afterwards.

"Why's everybody always out ta' Fuck with me, man?"

Carmen managed a soft smile and patted Clyde on the back. "Well, that's just not true. I'm not out to fuck with you at all."

It was a joke, probably not the best, but all she could come up with on such short notice. Carmen preferred to keep up with matches and not the drama that surrounded them, so she was only vaguely aware of the troubles that plagued Clyde's life, and even that was probably just a fraction of the real story, what happened when the cameras weren't running. Didn't matter. She'd seen enough, more than enough, to know that the world had a funny way of singling him out for embarrassment. Or, maybe, it was just Melissa Sellers.

She sighed and reached inside the ring, pulling out a stool from the corner for him to sit on. "Tell me about it. What's going on?"

Clyde carried a soft smile as Carmen patted his back, appearing so much more vulnerable now that he wasn't fighting Army. His breathing was quick and tense, his body trembling just a bit. He was so certain he'd get his ass beat by Army but he managed to do okay. He just needed to relax. Or try to.

She gave him a stool to sit on and he tried to think of what to say first on what was bothering him and he'd allow Carmen to hear. But he froze and he looked down at his loafers.

"I have your brother's blood on my shoes." He said suddenly before looking at Carmen. "This don't bother you?"

Carmen started to reply, but shut her mouth fast and took a minute to put more thought in it. She'd lived in Puerto Rico so long, it was easy to forget that not everyone saw the world like she saw the world. Maybe a little explanation would help.

"Think of it like this." She folded her arms and leaned forward. "Puerto Rico ranks third in the world when it comes to boxing champions, and we only have, like, 4 million people on the whole island. We have more boxing champions per capita than anywhere, bar none, no competition. Boxing is big in our family, but it's a massive part of our entire culture. For you, it's a sport. For us, it's religion."

She had a little sigh at that, remembering how long it had been since her feet even touched down on a Puerto Rican beach. Too long. "I guess what I'm trying to say is...fighting is a pretty normal thing for us. It's a very competitive, macho atmosphere. Army used to come home with a busted noise or a black eye or a ripped shirt, like, once every two or three weeks back when he was in high school. If I started shit with every guy who's had my brother's blood on his shoes, I'd have to take on pretty much every guy in Bayomon. At some point, I just learned to let him fight his own battles most of the time."

She ran a hand through her hair and chuckled, smiling back at Clyde, warm as ever. "So, no. Don't bother me none."