The Struggle: Act II “Wolves”

[Thomas Uriel Bates]

The Struggle: Act II “Wolves”

Scene I “Emergence”
Somewhere on Staten Island, New York

What strange creatures lie deep beneath the waves? What unexplored depths hold such dark secrets? What unholy monsters wait to emerge? Is it the Kraken, the Each-uisge, the Leviathan, or even Jörmungandr? As we explore these wonders, we may notice the sea beginning to boil. Each bubble escaping to the surface attracts the attention of all those nearby. They stare in the hopes of seeing some mythical creature emerge, while at the same time they hope it to be some simple and non-threatening thing.

The last anyone would suspect, would be a person. Much less the monstrous sized man known as Thomas Uriel Bates. He emerged from the waters as if he were some Greek or Norse god. Half naked, covered with seaweeds until they fall from his body, and with a determined focus on the path before him.

The people at the beach took notice of him, but he paid them no attention. As they pointed and commented, some with fear, he simply walked on. With cameras filming and with pictures taken, the man simply continued on his journey.

Last night the sea claimed him. It carried him away, deep into its watery darkness it carried him. Davey Jones came to claim another soul, but today it seems that Davey Jones’ locker could not contain the monster within. He could not trap the mountain beneath the waves.

Having defeated the waters, the monster finds his purpose. He finds his goal, and he finds his destiny. Left behind in the deep, left behind in that locker; all the guilt, all the sorrow. He had drowned the pain, and cast away the sin. What emerged from the waters today is a new creature, and one that a certain painted face should take notice of.

Scene II “Ghosts”
Feltville Historic District – Watchung Reservation – Berkeley Heights, New Jersey

This once was a booming mill town. It was also a farming town, and at one point was even a resort. Each time it was abandoned. The mills would close, the farms would die, the resort would fail, and the people would leave once more. The town was now kept up by a historical society, intending to keep some part of history alive in a dead town.

It had visitors, from time to time. People renting out rooms, or passing through as they explored the region. Today it was nearly empty, except for Thomas Uriel Bates. Only he found interest in this forsaken town today. Only he cast his shadow amongst the ghosts of Feltville.

He did not come for the houses, or to try to find the site of the mills. He did not come to walk the streets. He found himself alone, in the abandoned woods of an abandoned town. He had tried to clear his thoughts, and what better place to clear his thoughts than amongst the dead?

He came here to work too. He had a match of great importance. Not only was this a chance to capture the WCF World Championship, a goal that seemed to slip his grasps whenever he reached for it, but it was a chance to set things right with Gemini Battle as well.

Gemini Battle had occupied his mind as of late. Even as the Mountain of WCF punched into the large Oak Tree, bloodying his hands and rustling the leaves, his former friend haunted him. Not so long ago, he had felt guilty. Not long ago Thomas Uriel Bates felt sorrow. Now, he felt something else.

His fists crash against the Oak like lightning crashing through the sky as it creates thunder. As soon as one fist would make contact, he would send the other towards its destination. With sorrow gone, and only rage remaining, Thomas Uriel Bates saw not an Oak Tree but his former friend. The inhabitant of Grayson Pierce; Gemini Battle.

Though he came here for solitude, he was not alone. Standing behind him were three little girls. Each one wearing drop waist dresses of various colors and patterns. Each one wearing peculiar matching bonnets. Their skin was pale, their lips were blue, and their eyes held sudden terror and sadness. The smell seemed to disturb the Mountain, who with a shake of his head worked hard to ignore it. While physically appearing to ignore the stench, his mind knew full well what it meant. The smell of rotting meat and decaying flesh was unmistakable.

Still our giant slammed his fists against the trees. “They’re not there,” he surely told himself as he pounded away at the trunk. The day had turned into night, and now he had allowed his mind to wander. A wandering mind can attract manner of creatures.

Girl I: Who are you?

The spirit whispered. Her voice soft, but strained. Still our wrestler ignored her and continued his boxing.

Girl II: You’re going to wake it up.

The second girl, smaller than the first and wearing mostly red, sounded more hushed. Her whisper carried with it the stench of fear.

Girl III: You don’t want to wake it up.

The third girl, tallest of the trio, sounded the most terrified.

Still our Mountain cast aside the warnings and continued about his tasks.

Girl I: He will come.

Another warning disregarded. He had heard all of this before. Those claiming to be demons, those claiming to be monsters, those making all sorts of claims to terrify the mind. Thomas Uriel Bates was not so gullible.

Girl III: When he comes, he always gets his way.

Girl II: With us.

Girl I: With you.

Bates paused. These girls, if they were really here, could not be more than eight years old. Whoever put them up to such a task as trying to scare this mountain had left grim instructions. He slightly turned his head and cast his eyes upon their upright corpses. If they were real, if they were actors, then whoever dressed them did well. If they were real, if they were indeed spirits, then whoever or whatever killed them was cruel.

Girl II: He is fueled by hate, blinded by rage, and conceived in anger.

Not convinced at what he was seeing, or too focused on his task at hand, he went back to the punching bag of the tree. The girls simply looked at each other, each one with terror intensifying, and spoke with fear.

Girls: He’s awake.

A strong punch to the Oak tree shakes the forest. Nearly every leaf had been shaken from the tree, and with this punch any weak branch fell as well. Yet this display of strength did not resonate with these girls. Only the horror of what was to come.

A low growl.

Bates paused, he was no fool. He knew something was coming. If it was something real, it was stalking him. If it was something within his own head, it still stalked him. He knew what to do. He would not run, and he would not hide. He returns to his task with a thud as muscle and bones collide with oak.

Another low growl. Bates returns it with his own low growl.

The girls seem frozen in their place. As terror envelopes them, their feet dig deeper into the dirt. Their heads turn, each one seeking this creature that called for them. As Bates continued with the tree, he kept his head turned and his eyes on the girls.

Girl I: He will feast on your corpse as he feasted upon ours.

The girls begin to show signs of their demise. The first girl’s throat peels away, pouring blood down her dress. The second girl’s legs and arms fall off, soaking her dress in crimson. The third girl’s stomach rips open as her intestines slide out of her body into a pile beneath her. Still these girls cannot move, and still they whisper their warnings as they gasp for the air that is denied them.

Girl II: He’s here!

Girl I: He’s hungry!

Girl III: For your soul!

He can see it now. Against the darkness of the forest, illuminated only by the moonlit sky, he could see the silhouette of a dark creature. It was black as night, yet had bright red eyes focused on Thomas Uriel Bates. Its thick black fur has risen, and stood on its end. It opened its mouth to reveal bright white razor sharp teeth. Saliva dripped from its fangs as it slowly moved forward.

More convinced that it was all an illusion on his tired mind, the giant punches the tree again.

The wolf continued to move forward, turning his attention to the girls.

Girl I: I’m scared.

The wolf did not care.

Girl III: It hurts.

Again, the wolf was not phased.

Girl II: I don’t want to die.

Girl III: Not again.

The wolf growls louder. It sank ow to the ground, with its shoulders protruding and his red eyes zeroed in on the girls. The wolf had found its prey, and would dine tonight on their flesh once more. The wolf turned its eyes towards Bates, who returned the stare.

The wolf growls again.

Bates returns the message, his own teeth now flashing. If this was real, he would soon be fighting this creature. If it was an illusion, he would only be a fool to an empty court.

The wolf lunges at the girls. It’s paws forward, its mouth open wide, and its teeth ready to sink into flesh and meat.

Bates lunges at the wolf. One arm out to catch the wolf, and the other cocked back ready to send the creature back to the Hell it came from.

Bates slides across the ground, having caught nothing. The wolf creature has faded back into the darkness, and the girls had disappeared. It seems as if he had indeed been the fool.

As he pushed himself up to his knees, his hands run across soft cotton fabric. He looks down, and finds three bonnets surrounding him. Each bonnet in the place of the girls in his mind. Each one stained with dried blood. He pushes himself up and stands, holding the three bonnets. He turns his head, seeking the creature and doubting all of his own sanity.

Then he sees it. The tree which had served as his punching bag for the night. Its bark had fallen away, and the trunk had split. Pouring out of the open tree, the unmistakable crimson liquid; blood.

The wolf growls again.

Scene III “You Abandoned Him”
Feltville Historic District – Watchung Reservation – Berkeley Heights, New Jersey

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. The old saying was right today, as the source of the smoke in Feltville, New Jersey was none other than Thomas Uriel Bates. After his strange encounter in the woods nearby, he needed to relax. What strange creatures now ran through his mind.

He sat on the steps of this old abandoned Federal style house, and smoked his Romeo Y Julieta Churchill cigar. He blew the smoke out to the sky, and rested his bloodied hands on his knees. His mind raced as his eyes stared a thousand yards.

He had emerged from the waters, and fought the black wolf. There was a change growing inside him, and he knew it. In the deepest parts of his soul, he knew that nothing will ever be the same. He was fighting the monster in the shadows, and that monster was him.

He drew in the smoke from the cigar and tasted it. The medium-bodied smoke and the smooth range of flavors of select Dominican tobaccos, the Indonesian wrapper giving a hint of spice. He released the smoke slowly, so as to savor the taste. He closed his eyes for a brief moment of bliss, only to open them to the persistence of a WCF Camera Drone.

Gemini had already spoken, and as the week progressed the WCF film crew knew they would need every footage available for such a big match. Thomas Uriel Bates, Gemini Battle, and Brent Alpine, all fighting for the WCF World Championship. Of course they were going to film everything.

Bates couldn’t blame them of course, even though he found them a nuisance. He just wanted to fight in the ring and be left alone, especially right now. Especially with the turmoil in his own heart. The WCF Galaxy needed to know what he felt. The WCF Galaxy demanded yet another one of his long speeches about his opponent. How he was going to win, how he was going to defeat his opponent. They demanded to see the Mountain of WCF tear apart not just the limbs of his prey, but their minds as well.

So he took a deep breath, and prepared to do what he was paid to do. He was going to destroy his best friend. Where not long ago the words would be difficult to come out, today they rolled off his tongue with ease.

Thomas Uriel Bates: I didn’t want this.

These are not the words you would expect from a man going for the most prestigious title in the WCF.

Thomas Uriel Bates: Gemini, I was so happy when you won Ultimate Showdown, I was content with just letting everything ride. I was going to defend my Television Title, and watch with joy your long and much deserved reign as Champion. I was going to wait for it, Gemini. I was going to wait for my World title shot.

He drew in the smoke once again. He stared at the camera as he savored it. He allowed the smoke to escape and continued.

Thomas Uriel Bates: Because we were friends, Gemini. Because we were brothers. Because of that bond, I was going to let everything go. I came out to that ring on Slam not to attack you, nor to challenge you, but to give you a gift. A symbol of our friendship, a symbol of our brotherhood. The Defilers of Logic together for all eternity, frozen in time on the Thirty-First of June, Twenty Fifteen. Celebrating our victory as the first ever WCF Trios Champions. Gemini, I came out there to praise you!

You crushed that memory. When you broke that frame and shattered the glass, you destroyed our friendship. One of the happiest moments of my life, crushed by a man I considered my brother. You did that!

I didn’t come out there that night to claim my title shot against you, I came out there to try one last time to reason with you. What happened, Gemini? Did you stick around? Did you try to talk to me? No, Gemini. You ran away. You left me in the ring with Brent Alpine, who then gave me a shot at the World Title with Seth loving every moment of it.

Even after you sneaked back in and attacked me with that belt, what did I do, Gemini? I still came out to try to talk to you. To try to reason with you, and to try to bury the hatchet. You still didn’t get it, you still wanted to push this. So you got it. I devoted myself to the match, and made it my mission to take that gold belt away from you. In my head I was thinking that maybe then you’d listen. Now, I’m not so sure.

You see, Gemini, I’ve been blaming myself for our friendship’s demise. I saw myself the villain in this piece. The man who abandons his friends in pursuit of a political career, that’s what I thought I was. I didn’t piece it together until lately, Gemini. I may have left and pursued another career, but you’re the one who abandoned this friendship.

I was no longer a wrestler, but a politician when you called to tell me about your shot against Wade Moor. I came not as a wrestler, but as a friend to support you. Yes, Wade Moor and Beachkrew did what Beachkrew always did and cheated. Yes, they attacked me. Yes, Beachkrew dominated the WCF in the absence of the DRG, but Gemini; I trusted you.

I didn’t come back and declare war on Beachkrew when they attacked me, because I trusted you to avenge me. I didn’t come back to lead the DRG through another Stable War, because I trusted you to do it. I put my faith in you, Gemini. I trusted that you would keep everything going here while I went off to answer what I thought was my calling. I trusted you, Gemini, to Captain the ship. I was sad to hear that you sank it.

My sin, Grayson, was not being there for you when your son died. My sin, Grayson, is thinking that phone calls, letters, emails, and everything else would be sufficient when I should have got on that plane against the doctor’s orders and against the campaign manager’s advice, and just gone to the funeral. I failed you there, Grayson. I failed you.

However, you have failed Teddy. What are you doing here, Grayson? You’ve slipped back into the Gemini Battle persona and somehow made him even more crazy than he’s always been? You’re not an alien Grayson! You’re a grieving father looking to escape the reality of your son’s death!

You ran away to the depth of your own mind. You cower somewhere in that tangled weave in the hopes of never having to face the reality that is before you. Your son is dead, and you want to paint your face and run around like you’re some kind of damn alien.

You’re just looking to write off your son. You’re looking to claim that he wasn’t even yours. You’re looking to give yourself some excuse not to care! He’s your fucking son, Grayson! Grieve like any other man would and stop running away from it!

No, you want to pin it all on me. You want to say that I abandoned you. That I abandoned him. That I abandoned the entire WCF. You hold me accountable for everything that has ever gone wrong with you. You hold me accountable for all of your failures while I was gone. You hold me accountable for the destruction of our friendship!

I didn’t want this, Gemini. I didn’t want it to come to this. At Revenge, it’s not Grayson Pierce that I’m going after. It’s not my friend and my brother. It’s not someone I admire, or even respect. I’m going after Gemini Battle. When I pry that gold belt from his hands, I hope to look down at your mangled body and see a glimmer of hope, a sight of Grayson Pierce breaking free. I hope that by destroying Gemini Battle, I may save Grayson Pierce.

Bates goes to draw in the smoke from his cigar once more, only to find that it has died out. He takes it as a sign and stands. Having said his peace, having spoken the words he wished he never had to speak, he was done. The WCF Film Crew would have to just try again later. For now, this interview was over.

He walked away.

Scene IV “Box Marked Fragile”
Feltville Historic District – Watchung Reservation – Berkeley Heights, New Jersey

The Camera Drone must never have left. It flew around Feltville peaking in and out of the abandoned buildings, strolled along the empty streets, soared high above and watched with eagle eyes the movements of Thomas Uriel Bates.

This had been an interesting day. Last night he drifted off into the Bay at Staten Island, and today he emerged from those same waters only to find himself at this abandoned town looking for himself. Anyone, even the Mountain of WCF, would be exhausted.

Bates was tired. He had exposed his soul, and now was fighting for it. He knew he had to keep going, to keep pushing forward, but he was so tired. Tired of trying to make amends, tired of begging for forgiveness from those that do not seek it for themselves. Tired of looking the other way.

Have you ever had that one annoying fly that keeps landing on you when you’re tired? No matter what you do, he still comes back to bother you. You swat, and it simply comes back. You swing your arms wildly, and he finds his way into your hair. That is what the WCF Camera Drone is like. The most annoying fly to ever exist.

Well it found him once more, as he walked back towards his favored motorcycle. He turns to scan the town once more, but only sees the Drone flying at eye level. He swats, but it comes back. He swings his massive arms, but it flies up and just comes back. No matter what he does, it just comes back, and Bates is so tired.

So he sits on the saddle of his motorcycle, and looks up towards the Drone. He stares at it with defeated eyes, and beckons it to move forward, consenting to an interview. The WCF Camera Drone moves forward, proud of yet another conquest.

As the Camera Drone approaches, Bates lunges forward and grabs it with his hands. The rotary blades strike his hand, but he simply squeezes down, severing them from the body of the drone. The camera itself remains intact, and the monstrous mountain holds it up to his face. Here, having crushed the annoyance, he truly consents to his interview.

Thomas Uriel Bates: Hello Brent.

Having conquered one annoyance, he seems prepared to tackle another.

Thomas Uriel Bates: So nice of you to join me here in this abandoned village. I have seen some interesting things here as I trained for our upcoming match. Through all of my training, through all of the interests this town provides, through it all I have heard the buzzing of this drone. It reminds me of you, Brent. An annoying pest that simply cannot survive without interfering in other people’s lives.

This fight, Brent, is between Gemini Battle and myself. It had been growing for nine months, and oh is that baby due. Two friends turned foe, two brothers turned mortal enemies. Not only does the crowd want it, but Gemini and myself want to settle the score. This is Revenge, Brent, and it is time for us to get Revenge on those that have wronged us. You’re just the annoying kid that cried loud enough to be included.

Seth may have given you the Number One Contendership for the World title in an effort to keep the belt out of my hands, but it was you who took away your own Contendership and gave it to me. You were so sure of yourself. You were so confident. You just knew that you would triumph over the Mountain of WCF and get to move on to triumph over the Clown.

But what did you do to earn that title shot in the first place, Brent? Did you cut down every opponent in your path to the title? Did you win some tournament, or even place high in Ultimate Showdown? Did you make your mark, and proved to the world that you deserved that shot?

No, Brent, you didn’t. You lost Ultimate Showdown at my hands. You then went around complaining about some conspiracy, claiming that somehow people kept you from the World Title, kept you from victory. As if it took the entire locker room to hold your shoulders down and pin you at Ultimate Showdown. Brent, you lost. You lost fair and square. You lost the match, and with it you lost your mind, once again.

You see, you’re fragile. You’re weak. You are your own worst enemy. Back in Twenty Fourteen you were on your way to greatness. You were the WCF Television Champion, and you were great at it. In time, you were destined even then to go for the World Title. But what happened, Brent? Do you know? You lost that title and then you freaked out. You broke down, Brent. You broke down and left.

You didn’t just check out of the WCF, you checked out of reality. You went off to some psychiatric institution and when you finally came back, you had to have Dallas Culture around just to keep you in check. You had to keep your pet pig around to comfort you. You had to install a voice box just to feel that you have a friend in this world. Brent, you fell apart.
I realize that you may have looked at this match as your way out. A chance to get out of the rut you found yourself in. I’m sorry, Brent, but you broke down again. Now in your breakdown you find yourself against Gemini Battle and myself. You’re running around about conspiracies when in fact you just can’t accept the fact that you lost.

I beat you at Ultimate Showdown, Brent. Then I beat you at Slam to secure my shot against Gemini Battle, to secure my revenge against him. You cannot accept it. Brent, you can lose and still push forward, but for some reason this alludes you. When you lose, Brent Alpine, it’s all over for you. Another trip to the Institution as you ramble on about conspiracies.

At Revenge, you’re the third wheel. You’re the one that all the fans are shouting, “Who cares?” As you find your dreams crushed once more, take comfort in the knowledge that you at least get front row seating to the War between Gemini and myself.

Bates allows the drone to drop, finally cracking the screen of the camera. With only one wheel of his motorcycle in view of the camera, we can hear the engine start. The roar of the motorcycle echoes throughout the abandoned town as Thomas Uriel Bates rides off into the darkness.

The wolf howls.

Scene V “Battle of the Wolves”
DoubleTree by Hilton Hotel Newark Airport – Newark, New Jersey

The hotel room was empty and dark. The only lights came from the surrounding buildings, the alarm clock’s low glow, and the moon high above the patio. A large silhouette sits in a chair outside, smoking a large cigar. The large frame and the aroma of the Romeo Y Julieta cigar gave hints as to the identity of the silhouette; Thomas Uriel Bates.

He sat on the patio wearing his tailored trousers and an unbuttoned French cuffed shirt, revealing his solid white undershirt. The glass of Scotch in his hand, and the cigar in his mouth, all signs of a long day, or a long nine months, coming to an end.

The culmination of nine months of a slow boiling feud between Thomas Uriel Bates and Gemini Battle. The end of a brotherhood, and the start of a bitter rivalry. They were now Cain and Abel, Höðr and Baldur, Romulus and Remus, Osiris and Set, Eteocles and Polynices, Claudius and King Hamlet. There was only one way this was going to end.

As Bates sits and ponders the last few months of his life, a visitor enters the hotel room. Coming from the darkness itself, guided by its red eyes, and emitting a low growl, the creature of the forest. It walks through the room, searching for its prey. The white fangs and the black muzzle stained with dry blood. The wolf stalks about.

Bates is unaware of the creature lurking. His mind is on thoughts of the past. Of the long rides across the country with his brothers. With Mikey eXtreme, Danny Anderson, Charlie and Connor, Gonzo, and of course Gemini. To see Gemini Battle riding side by side with him in that personalized motorcycle once more.

As the black wolf creature finally eyes Bates, a white wolf appears in the room, as if gathered by mist. The new wolf’s fur is white as snow, and its eyes an icy blue. The white wolf stares at the black wolf and bares its fangs, as give giving the dark creature fair warning.

Bates pays no attention to the two creatures. His mind is on other things. His mind recalls the night he heard of Gonzo’s passing. He had received a phone call telling him of his friend’s fate. Though the speaker went on with details, funeral arrangements, causes, the only word Bates heard was, “Gonzo’s dead.”

The black wolf growls, returning the warning to the white wolf. The two begin pacing back and forth across the room. Each one waiting patiently for the other to make a mistake.

Bates’ only comfort during Gonzo’s funeral, was that he was surrounded by family. The Dark Riders Gang MC, all were there for him. They rang the bell at Slam. Ten rings for him, each one echoing through the arena, and in every soul of the Dark Riders Gang.

The black wolf lunges forward, but the white wolf steps back. The failed attack causes the two to pace around once more.

It wasn’t long after that when Bates heard the news of Teddy Pierce. One of his best friends had died, and now another of his best friends had just lost a child. We had just laid to rest one brother, now we were to lay to rest a brother’s son? Such cruelty is life. Barely any time for a funeral, and no time to escape the responsibilities of the campaign.

The black wolf lunges again, this time catching the back leg of the white wolf. As the white wolf yelped, blood stained the snow white fur. The white wolf sank its own teeth into the back of the black wolf, drawing blood in retaliation. It was enough to make the dark creature release its hold. The white wolf stepped back to retreat, finding its way to the patio with Thomas Uriel Bates. The black wolf followed.

When he returned, he knew he would have to answer for his failures. At first, nothing seemed wrong. Bates and Gemini hit it off once more, and the Dark Riders Gang nearly reformed. Once again they would pursue the Trios Championship. Gemini found his shoulders pinned to the mat by Andre Aquarius. Beachkrew won against the three brothers. As usual, Beachkrew mocked. It was a fatal mistake, for Bates decimated Joey Flash in retaliation. The match was over, but Joey Flash learned the fight was not.

The black wolf once again lunges forward, causing the white wolf to move. Finding itself in a favorable position, the white wolf sank its teeth into the dark creature’s neck, staining its muzzle with the dark blood of the creature. The black wolf yelped, but wrestled its way free. Its red eyes staring at the blue eyes of the white wolf.

Then Gemini Battle won the World Championship at Ultimate Showdown. Bates was happy. Though he did not win, his best friend did. He didn’t come down to that ring to rain on Gemini’s parade, he came down to congratulate him. To celebrate with him, and to give him a gift. A symbol of their friendship.

The white wolf lunges forward, but the black wolf steps back. The two retreat to their own corners of the patio as Thomas Uriel Bates drinks from his glass. He ignores the wolves, and focuses only on his thoughts.

Then Gemini crushed it. He destroyed the frame, he shattered the glass, he demolished their friendship. Everything they were, everything that they had been through together, now meant nothing to him. Gemini Battle abandoned their friendship and pinned it all on Bates. He blamed Bates, he blamed everyone but himself. There were no more jokes, no more jesters, no more humor in his voice. There was only anger, there was only hate, there was only darkness. Gemini Battle had betrayed him.

The black wolf jumps forward, and pins the white wolf down with its legs, and bites hard on its neck. The white fur turned crimson with the blood, and the icy eyes grew weaker. The black wolf, the murderous creature, seemed victorious.

He was betrayed! All of their friendship meant nothing to Gemini Battle. He had run away from himself, ran away from his son’s death, and now ran away from his friends. Gemini Battle was running away from everything that makes him human.

As the light begins to fade from the white wolf, Bates jumps up, and tosses the glass towards them, separating the two. The wretched black creature retreats to the shadows as the white wolf struggles to stand. Bates walks forward, as if stepping between the two. The blue eyes of the white wolf that only moments ago were fading, grew stronger now.

Gemini Battle would learn what it’s like to be human once more. He will feel the sting of defeat, and the weight of reality. Thomas Uriel Bates was not just going to win the WCF World Championship, he wasn’t just fighting to destroy an old foe, he wasn’t fighting to prove any point, he was fighting to save his friend.

He was fighting to save Grayson Pierce.