Childish Fears

                                    

                                          
The weapon they were both staring at was the same knife the boy had in his hand. That boy left Damien with a clean slice, the blood soaking the left sleeve of Damien's jacket.
As if Damien just realized that he got hurt he groaned, holding his arm. "I told you that boy's threat shouldn't be taken lightly."
One look at Damien's arm and Lavender was fuming. She tore off a piece of her T-shirt, using the knife on the floor, and swiftly tied it around his arm to stop the rapid loss of blood.
"Fuck," Damien mumbled, making a deep inarticulate sound conveying his pain. She held his non-injured hand and backed away slowly behind his car. 
"Stay here," she instructed to Damien. Injured and not being of much use, Damien obeyed, leaning his head back as he sat on the ground. Taking a quick glance at his arm again, she squeezed his knee for comfort.
Lavender got out of her hiding, immediately getting surrounded by five men. Amongst the five men was the boy from the night before. He was smart enough to bring back up, but they were dumb enough to tag along.
"Had to go running to the fantastic four for help? You're a coward, boy," Lavender mocked and in return, she got slapped. The taste of blood left her mouth salty. She spat out the blood, laughing like a maniac. "You slap like a bitch."
Again, she earned another slap, this time the sound ringing in her ears. "You're going to regret that." 
Before he slapped her again, she slid to the side causing him to miss which aggravated him. He came at her stronger, but she slid again to the other side and kicked him in the stomach. He crouched over, trying to regain himself.
Not wanting to allow him that privilege, Lavender jumped and kicked him in his head, hearing the satisfying crack to his skull. He fell face first on the ground. 
One of the four gave Lavender a headlock from behind. Just before he got a good grip of her, she kicked him in the ribs with her elbow, pushing him back with her bottom. Rapidly, she turned to face him and drew the boy's knife into the palm of his hand. The man gripped his hand, howling in pain.
Her focus shifted from the bleeding man to the others, clapping her hands together as if they were doing business. "Which one of y'all three musketeers is next?"
It was too late for her to realize that she only was facing two instead of three when the third musketeer, kicked her behind her knee. Falling in a pushup position, she swiftly turned over and kicked him with her good leg in his groin as he charged towards her.
Unaffected, he unexpectedly caught her foot when she was about to kick him again. Fighting through the pain, she kicked him in the face, his head snapping back. Before he had any time to recover, she flipped up and broke his arm.
"Tom and Jerry," Lavender called over the man's yelping to the last two men. They swiftly glance at each other and then squinting at Lavender weirdly.
One of them was faster than Lavender and punched her in her stomach, probably breaking one of her ribs with his iron fist. His punches were like mule kicks. 
Painfully sucking in a large amount of air, she sniggered and tried to convince the guy that she was unaffected. "Should've trained the others before you came here, man."
The other one charged at her with a pole. 
"Where the fuck did you get that from?" Lavender quickly looked down with wide eyes. She never liked to show her opponent when she was panicking. 
Holy fuck. I'm a goner, she cried to herself. 
"When you fall always get back up, darling." 
Her mother's words from years ago echoed in her head, encouraging her to look up. She fearlessly glared at the man getting closer to her with the pole. Holding her side, she stood up just in time to bend back as he swung the pole. 
All Lavender heard soon after was a pang and a loud cry. The one with the iron fist was on his back, hands over his right eye, and crying like a baby.
Mr. I-can't-fight-a-girl-with-my-hands dropped the pole, bending down to his friend.
"Sorry, Jerry." He took a quick glance at Lavender then went to help his partner in crime.
Lavender blew out a breath of disbelief when she realized why they exchanged looks with each other. "Y'all really are actually Tom and Jerry? What a wild guess."
If it wasn't so painful to laugh, Lavender would've but Jerry's mule kick of a punch left a discomforting pain. As she was taking a look at her now purple side, she heard another painful cry. Quickly glancing up, she saw Damien over Jerry and Jerry begging for mercy.
"Shit," Damien silently mumbled, holding his wounded arm.
"Damien," Lavender warned. "You're gonna make it worse."
"Not now." With his unwounded hand, he punched Jerry in his temple knocking him out cold. 
The crack in Tom's neck was louder than the painful groans from the others. Lavender touched her neck wondering how Tom was able to crack his neck like that with it still being intact.
Tom's smirk revealed a set of yellow teeth; "You've saved the best for last. I'm pretty sure I'll be the last man standing." 
Damien flinched in disgust; "Try using a bottle of Listerine before you decide to smile again." 
"Ahh, buena esa," Lavender painfully chuckled.
Heated from Damien's insult, Tom frowned and punched Damien in the face. Damien's head snapped to the side as he massaged his jaw. Damien punched Tom back twice as hard.
Without wasting any time Lavender jumped on Damien's shoulder, flipped over in the air, and kicked Tom in the middle of his head. He fell to the floor with a thud. 
Lavender spat on him; "Who's the last man standing now, bitch."
Damien took her arm and led her to his car. During that time Lavender quickly phoned the police. Lavender glanced around, grateful that they weren't too close near the restaurant. He placed her in his passenger's seat and turned on the indignation. 
"WAIT," Lavender shouted. 
"What?" Damien answered between closed teeth. He closed his eyes shut, groaning loudly.
"Let me see it."
He sighed and twisted his body so that she can have a better view of his wound. The piece of cloth was now covered in blood. She tried removing his jacket but he held her arm.
"The jacket stays on. Just rip around that area."
Lavender nodded and did as he said, also removing the bloody cloth from around his wound. It had stopped bleeding but the wound was cut too deep. "Do you have a first aid kit?"
"In the trunk," he replied with his eyes still closed.
Lavender was out of the car in a blink of an eye, coming back with the first aid kit in her hand. She found a needle and no thread, so she took a strand of her hair to use as a thread, a trick her mother taught her.
She threaded the needle with the strand from her hair and put it between her lips. She tore two more pieces of her T-shirt, to wipe up the liquid that began flowing down his arm as she cleaned it with peroxide.  The other one she balled up and pushed it in Damien's mouth. 
Damien opened his eyes when she did that. Ignoring him, she was about to stitch his now cleaned wound, but Damien pushed the cloth out and started screaming at the top of his lungs.
"You're not touching me with that," he screamed again in a higher pitch.
"With that voice, you really should become a professional singer," Lavender dryly advised.
Still screaming, Damien gave Lavender a warning look.
"Stop being a baby and let's get this over with."
"NO," he shouted. He licked his chapped lips, gulping. "I'm...I'm...I'm scared to get another one. Not again. Not anymore."