Of Smoke and Stardust [[COMPLETE]]]

CHAPTER 28-PARKER

Jayden's fist connected to the side of Paker's face. It felt like getting hit by one of those mining trucks back on their planet. Parker reeled back, hit the glass wall behind him, and used it to keep himself standing.

"Jayden, stop." There was blood in his mouth from his split lip, and his vision swayed slightly before it corrected itself.

Parker had been in the ring more time than he could count—forced into it—but he'd never felt so helpless. Even when he was first yanked out of his cell and dragged down the hall, flailing and screaming until he was tossed into the pit on his second night in Mallowmont.

They put him up against a monster of a man with knuckles calloused and a nose broken and set at least a dozen times over. It was supposed to be a warm up fight. A throw away—the undercard. Nothing worth-while.

He had shown them what the scrappy nobody could do.

That first fight had changed him—had set the tempo for the rest of his time in that hellhole.

It was after that first night that had the idea for his tattoo. He might have been kept in a cage. Beaten, bruised, and bloodied. But he'd fly free—someday.

And then he was saved.

The day Alya had come and rescued him from Mallowmont, he couldn't believe his good fortune. And then to be put in the same ship as the captain, it was almost like fate—cruel fate. Parker still felt guilty for using Zion and The Hawks, but not guilty enough to regret what he did. He'd never regret anything he did to get as far as he had. He made a decision on that first day—during that first fight—to do anything and everything he could to get out.

And he would do the same for Jayden.

Jayden's boot came for his head, and Parker had to duck and roll before his head was torn clean off his neck.

"Jayden, please," Parker's voice cracked as he pulled his arms up to block an elbow, and then a follow up knee. "Don't you remember me?" He tried, only to receive another kick in the stomach in reply. He doubled over.

He couldn't last on the defense for much longer. Jayden's blows were powerful and swift, stronger than his own—inhumanly strong. Parker knew he'd get rushed if he didn't take the offence. He might not be a match to Jayden's strength, but he had tactics he used to survive in Mellowmont, at least that would borrow him some time. But whenever he saw an opening or made to make a move, his muscles recoiled.

He kept thinking Jayden, Jayden, Jayden, it's Jayden.

His brain kept continued replaying images of him. His brother, with the goofy smile on his face, after stealing candy, and sharing it. His brother, loyal to a fault. His brother, with the better heart than Parker. His brother, who he failed to keep safe.

Parker dodged another punch, this time; he twisted his body and threw back his own. Jayden deafly swooped away, but Parker had expected that. He only needed a bit of space.

Space to breath, to regain his balance, to think.

He made eye contact with Jayden and winced at the deadness in his brother's eyes. There was no venom, no anger, just cold hard calculating ruthlessness.

In that moment, Parker wanted to give up. His limbs were weak from running, his head throbbed from blows and blocks, and his heart hurt. Even if he miraculously did get Jayden out, then what?

They would never be the same.

He glanced up at the windowed area where Alya was taken and his resolve thickened. Everything might be different, but it could be better.

He would make it better.

Jayden came at him with a knee, aiming straight for Parker's stomach. But Parker was ready this time. Ready to fight his brother; for his brother.

Parker grabbed his knee, lifting up to catch Jayden off balance. But his brother was too quick—too well trained. Jayden leaped back, jerking his leg from Parker's grip.

Jayden landed a few feet away, a new look in his eyes. A new assessment and something like approval in his gaze. Barely there, but it was something. Anything that wasn't the dead void was better.

"All right, Jayden. Let's see how you've grown." Parker threw on his show grin, the one he used in the arena.

Jayden visibly flinched at the grin, whether from Parker's bloody teeth, or the disturbing way it made Parker look insane was unknown. His nostrils flared and he sunk into stance.

The brothers faced off for a few moments, sizing each other up. So similar, yet so different. A beater and brawler versus a swift storm.

They collided and it seemed to shake the world. A volley of fists and kicks and fury. There was no grace, no spectacular showing of fluid agility and movement. Everything was an aggressive power struggle.

Limbs locked and slipped, an elbow to the face. A cut eyebrow. Blood. A knee to the chest. A cracked rib. Spittle and dribble and a follow up punch right above the hip.

Everything blurred together. The inside of the glass dome. The outside. There were no watchers, no spectators, no scientists or military men. It was just Parker and Jayden and pain and harsh breaths and sweat. The sound of flesh racking flesh and boots making contact against muscle and bone. Tears. There were tears too.

But everything would be worth it, in the end, when they would be free.

And they would be free.