Underground Boxing AU Universe: Complimentary Info
These are a few things I came up with during the planning phase of Going the Distance. A lot of it was me and @regalwanderer bouncing ideas around!
- Clarke was a know-it-all in school. Octavia hated her until the 9th grade when Clarke defended her in front of the entire class against a teacher that had called her “stupid” after failing to answer a question in World History class
- Lexa’s first language(s) are actually Arabic and French. She lived in Lebanon until her parents (French Christian mother and Druze Lebanese father) died in a hotel bombing when she was 7. The culprits behind the bombing are still unknown. Some say it was Hezbollah or the Syrian government, others say it was Israel or the United States
- Bellamy used to be a cop but left when he realized he didn’t respect the way the institution was run
- Clarke dated Wells Jaha, her best friend since the 2nd grade, for 9 months during her first year in college. They broke up because of several things but namely her inability to love him
- Raven is a car fanatic. She drives a ‘91 Mazda RX7 that she tricked out herself. She races it once in a while tho she’s been doing it more often because Finn has a gambling problem and often begs her to do it more because he wagers on her to win back money he loses on fight bets
- Lexa is the only one in the world that knows that Anya is terrified of car. She found out when she wanted to adopt one back when they were roommates during Lexa’s college years and Anya threw a fit and eventually had to come clean
- Octavia met Lincoln in a Brazilian Jiujitsu/MMA class. He was the instructor and paired up with her a lot in the beginning. Lincoln says it’s because she was a novice and could be paired with the other students who were more experienced but Octavia knows better
Here’s a little sneak peek of the next chapter that will be out as soon as @regalwanderer is done proof reading!
***
“I think she likes you,” he continues, giving her a cheeky wink, “I’ve known Lexa for a few years now and I’ve never seen her show the slightest interest in anyone.”
“I think you’re reading into things a little Bell.” Clarke rolls her eyes.
“Maybe,” he says with an obnoxiously sweet drawl, “but you haven’t dated anyone in a while princess and I think a little lovin’ would help you loosen up a little.”
“Bellamy!” Clarke shrieks at him, shocked and appalled at his utter lack of decorum.
“What?” His chuckle now evolving into a full-throated laugh, “oh come on princess, everyone knows you haven’t gotten any in awhile and it’s pretty obvious that your…Frustration is the reason you’ve got a giant stick up your –.”
“GOODBYE BELLAMY,” Clarke says loudly, cutting him off and slamming the door in his face. She leans against it and covers her face in her hands, desperately trying to block out images of a naked Lexa, towering over her in bed, covered in glistening sweat that accentuates every-
“You don’t want to turn into your mother!” Bellamy yells from the other side of the door.
My very kind and generous friend @regalwanderer has agreed to be my beta for Going the Distance for the time being. That being said, I would love it if someone could volunteer to take her place at some point. I recently quit my job due to homophobic bullying (which is very common in my country) so I don’t have any money to offer but I hope that my gratitude and some good karma will be enough to convince some of you!
Tags: Alternate Universe, Modern Setting, Illegal Fighting, Boxing AU, Alcohol, Language, Slow Burn, Angst, Humor, Sexual Content, Eventual Smut, Violence, Injury, Gambling, Drug Use,
Summary: Clarke is a struggling med student and Octavia is her best friend (and roommate) who finds her a new job to help pay the bills. The only problem is it’s as a ringside doctor for an illegal underground boxing league. There she meets Lexa, a mysterious woman who makes her job very difficult in more ways than one.
Octavia first suggests it after the winter holidays. Clarke had been so busy reviewing journals for her internal medicine rotation, that she didn’t hear her friend the first time.
“Clarke.”
“Octavia, not now. You know I need to review this. That asshole resident I told you about nearly threw me out of the room for mispronouncing Alport Disease.”
“Clarke.”
“Octavia, If I had time to chat, I’d get a part time job so we could stop living like animals in this f-“
“Clarke, shut up and listen for Christ’s sake, I’m trying to help you.”
Clarke looks up from her reading material, wearing an exasperated expression on her face. The bags under her eyes have become more noticeable in recent weeks, the result of long shifts, often in excess of thirty hours.
“Unless you’ve discovered a way to win the lottery, I don’t think you can help me.”
Octavia smiles and wiggles her eyebrows, “Better. I have a job for you.”
Clarke throws her hands up and snorts in disbelief, “I can’t believe you. Do you even listen to me?” She yells, her voice a shrill squawk of indignation, “I just told you I don’t have time for another job!”
Octavia simply continues to smile patiently as she waits for Clarke’s outburst to subside, clearly accustomed to frequent torrents of fury from her roommate.
“What if I told you that it was only for a few hours twice a month on Saturdays and you’d be paid twenty five hundred each time?”
“Octavia, I’m not taking my clothes off if that wh-"
“Shut up and listen. There’s this amateur boxing event that my brother organizes twice a month. A ringside physician would cost him a lot more and I mentioned that you might be willing to help him for much less. His last doctor moved out of the state because of family issues and they really need someone to fill in.”
“Octavia, I’m not a doctor yet.”
“I understand that, but you’d be able to stop the fights before they got too serious. You get to make the calls and also pocket some cash.”
“I really don’t know-
“Just think about it.”
Clarke mulls over it for a week before she reaches a decision after her and Octavia discover that they have a roach infestation. Their landlord refuses to acknowledge the problem when they knock on his door at 1 am, both women barefoot and in tears, having been woken up by a cluster of roaches crawling over them in the middle of the night.
“We have got to move out of here,” Clarke sighs on their way back from the store, each carrying a bag of roach traps and bug spray that neither can afford.
“About that gig I told you about with Bellamy…”
“I’m in.”
***
They hop on the train the next Friday, Clarke fidgeting the entire way. When they leave the station, Octavia leads her to an old warehouse ten minutes away.
“This isn’t creepy at all,” Clarke complains. “I’m really getting a bad feeling about this.”
“Relax,” Octavia grins and jerks open a door on the far side of the building.
Inside, the building looks less daunting. There are bright lights overhead, circling a large ring in the center of the space. On the left side there are multiple chairs, half of them stacked over each other, while the others are arranged in a semicircle around the ring. Several tall men work to set up the chairs in the remaining space while a tall dark-haired boy that Clarke instantly recognizes as Octavia’s brother Bellamy yells out instructions. He notices them approach and immediately breaks into a smile.
“Clarke! I’m so glad you’re here,” Bellamy smiles. “Welcome to Underground Heroes.”
Clarke smiles politely, still clearly uncomfortable with the entire arrangement.
“You too Bellamy, thanks.”
“Let me introduce you to my partner,” he says and calls out towards someone in the back of the room.
A pale anxious-looking man with a filthy ripped t-shirt, hanging loosely over his skinny frame, approaches them. His eyes wild and roaming, his face gaunt and covered in dust. Clarke wondered if he was truly Bellamy’s partner, or a street urchin he had picked up as a hired hand.
“Clarke this is Murphy,” Bellamy gestured, “Murphy, Clarke is the new ringside doctor I hired.”
Murphy simply nods at her and turns his head towards Bellamy.
“Woods is insisting on fighting next Saturday.”
Bellamy shoots him a look. “We’ll talk about that later. Let’s get our new doctor adjusted.”
Murphy nods slowly, his eyes still on Bellamy as he extends his arm to Clarke, “Let me show you around,” He says and leads her to the center of the room with Bellamy and Octavia following closely behind.
The tour takes fifteen minutes. Aside from the main hall, there are three small rooms in the building. Two separate dressing rooms, aptly named A and B, to separate fighters before and after the bouts and a medical office, which Bellamy cheekily called her office, for pre and post fight checkups. Murphy, Clarke learns from a chatty Bellamy, works construction during the day and helped set up Grounder Hall for Underground Heroes. “He got this place fixed up and ready to use in less than a mom,” Bellamy says proudly, slapping his hand across Murphy’s back. Clarke worries the scrawny boy will crumble from the impact but instead, Murphy shoots Bellamy an annoyed glance and twists away from the unwanted contact. “Not cool man.”
Clarke thinks for a minute and then asks, “I don’t want to sound ungrateful but why hire a medical professional at all?” Octavia looks appalled by the question but Clarke continues, “Aren’t there guys you can hire that can stitch up fighters and help reduce their swelling in the ring?”
“Cutmen,” Bellamy nods, “Those are meant to keep fighters in the right longer. We don’t want that. We take safety very seriously here. We just want to give people an outlet for their stress but we don’t want anyone to get hurt,” Bellamy says solemnly.
“But you host an event where people hit each other Bellamy, people are going to get hurt,” Clarke points out.
Bellamy laughs and looks over at Murphy, who still looks restless, before turning back to Clarke.
“Yeah, but we have rules. Before we get to that, any questions?”
“A few,’ Clarke replies. “Who owns this building?”
“An investor,” Bellamy says, “You will meet them eventually. We call this Grounder Hall.”
Clarke nods, satisfied with his response. “Octavia said I would have final say on who is healthy enough to compete?”
“Yes,” Bellamy nods eagerly, “Absolutely.”
“And I have the authority to stop the fights whenever I feel the fighter’s life is in danger?”
“Of course,” Bellamy smiles. “
“Try telling that to Woods,” Murphy snorts, causing both of them to twist their heads in his direction.
“I’m sorry?” Clarke looks at both Bellamy and Murphy. “Woods is?”
“A passionate fighter,” Bellamy replies quickly, shooting Murphy a scathing glance, “It won’t be an issue. Murphy just likes to joke around.”
Clarke looks at Murphy who shrugs his shoulders.
Bellamy clears his throat. “Should we go over the rules?”
***
The rules were fairly straightforward but long.
1. You cannot hit your opponent in the face, back, or the back of the head or neck or on the kidneys.
2. You cannot hit below the belt, hold, trip, kick, head-butt, wrestle, bite, spit on, or push your opponent.
3. You cannot hit with your head, shoulder, forearm, or elbow, legs, knees or feet.
4. You cannot throw a punch while holding on to the ropes to gain leverage.
5. You can't hold your opponent and hit them at the same time
6. You cannot hit on the break: When the referee breaks you from a clinch you cannot immediately hit your opponent
7. You cannot spit out your mouthpiece on purpose to get a rest.
8. If you score a knockdown of your opponent, you must go to the farthest neutral corner while the referee makes the count.
9. You cannot hit your opponent while they are on the floor
10. There is a ten second count for fighters to get back up.
12. A fighter who is hit with an accidental low blow has up to five minutes to recover.
13. If the foul results in an injury that causes the fight to end immediately, the fighter who committed the foul is disqualified.
14. If a fighter is knocked out of the ring, they get a count of 20 to get back in and on their feet. They cannot be assisted.
“It’s really just like boxing,” Bellamy says, “But we don’t let the fighters hit each other in the face.”
“That’s good,” Clarke nods, “I’m surprised the fighters are okay with that.”
“Well, we have a lot of different clients but most of them can’t show up to work with a bruised face.”
“Are these just normal people that want to fight?” Clark asks.
“Oh yeah,” Bellamy nods, “You’ll even see a few famous faces.”
“What?”
“There are crazy people everywhere,” Murphy laughs. “The money isn’t even worth it.”
“They aren’t crazy,” Bellamy frowns, “They just need to let off some steam.”
“What money?” Clarke asks. “I thought they were fighting for fun?”
“Most of them are but we do offer a purse per fight,” Bellamy replies, “It’s not much though, only five hundred a fight.”
“Five hundred a fight is a lot to me,” Octavia blurts out. “Sign me up!”
Bellamy glares at her. “Out of the question.”
“Oh, so you get to fight and I don’t?” Octavia shoots back.
“Seriously?” Clarke raises an eyebrow. “You fight?”
“Seriously,” Bellamy answers, “But not as often as I’d like these days since starting my own business.
“How can you afford to pay the fighters that much?” Clarke asks.
“We charge for admission,” Murphy answers, “Twenty five dollars a head plus a hundred percent markup on drinks and snacks.”
“And that’s enough to make money?” Octavia asks.
“Yeah,” Murphy laughs, “This place looks like crap but we had about a thousand people in here last time.”
“What?” Clarke startles, “Can this venue even fi-”
“Capacity here is twenty five hundred,” Bellamy cuts her off, “We have papers from the fire department after a building inspection.”
“Wait, they know?”
“They know that this is a brand new boxing gym,” Murphy smirks, “A gym that is very popular on weekends.”
“Are there other…Clubs like this one?” Clarke asks.
“Yeah,” Bellamy hesitates, “But it was a bad crowd and a lot of good people who didn’t need to get hurt did.” He looks away, clearly upset at the topic and Clarke quickly changes course.
“Who referees each match,” Clarke asks.
“Do you remember the guy I have been seeing,” Octavia pipes up, “Lincoln. He does.”
“You don’t really have to worry about any of this,” Bellamy cuts in, clearly annoyed by any talk of who his sister is dating, “All you have to worry about is whether the fighters are well enough to fight. I’ll need you ringside during each fight to make sure we keep everything safe.”
Clarke hesitates. “I’ll need a list of supplies and equipment…”
“Just let us know what you need and we’ll have it here for you before each fight.”
“And I’ll need some help. Taking care of a few fighters is one thing, but a venue full of a thousand people is another. Maybe an assistant. I have a few friends that are EMTs...”
“Done,” Bellamy replies quickly, “But we can’t afford to pay them the same rate. We can do thirty an hour. I’m sure that’s more than they’re getting right now.”
“And I need up to date blood tests for HIV, Hepatitis B and C and negative pregnancy tests.”
Bellamy looks uncertain, “People won’t be happy sharing that information…”
“Do you want me to do my job and protect you and your fighters?”
Bellamy immediately apologizes, “You’re right. Anything you need.”
“Ok,” Clarke nods slowly before adding, “I’m in.”
Bellamy smiles widely and throws a friendly arm around her shoulders.
“Welcome to the team Clarke.”
***
Saturday comes sooner than expected. Bellamy had asked her to arrive at Grounder Hall by 2 pm to begin prep work. Although she returned home from rounds before midnight the night before, she had been unable to sleep. She reviews the medical record and blood test results Bellamy had sent over for Saturday’s fighters. Three women and three men, all between the ages of twenty-two and thirty and in good medical condition.
In the morning she forces herself to eat despite the nervous flips in her stomach. Octavia alternatively seems eager to attend. Bellamy had only agreed to invite her on Clarke’s insistence.
“I don’t know why he’s being so stupid,” Octavia grumbles while furiously devouring her cereal. “I’m not a child anymore.”
“You are not,” Clarke agrees absentmindedly, her mind still on her new job.
They ride the train in silence. Clarke goes back and forth between telling Octavia she can’t go through with it and convincing herself that the money will really help.
When they arrive at Grounder Hall, Bellamy is furiously arguing with a tall, slender brunette. The woman is dressed in matching black rashguard shirt and shorts, her hair pulled back into a messy bun on the top of her head. While Clarke debates whether to approach them, Bellamy realizes her presence and turns to her.
“Clarke you’re right on time,” Bellamy ushers her over.
She approaches slowly, not blind to the clear look of annoyance on the other woman’s face. As Clarke nears, she realizes the woman’s face is marred in cuts and bruises. The injuries, however, do nothing to hide how remarkably beautiful she is.
“Clarke, this is Lexa Woods,” Bellamy introduces, “Our generous investor and an active participant in our fights.”
“Nice to meet you.” Clarke extends her hand for the other woman to shake but receives a cool glance instead.
Lexa turns back to Bellamy. “Is this the medical student you hired to tell me what I can and can’t do?”
Bellamy sighs, “Lexa please. I’m not comfortable with you going back into the ring until we have you checked out.”
Confused and a little annoyed at her treatment, Clarke tries again, “Bellamy, I don’t remember a Lexa Woods in the list of fighters you provided me.”
Lexa turns back towards her, green eyes flashing. “I didn’t just spend ten thousand dollars on new medical equipment for a college student to tell me whether or not I can fight in my own gym.”
Bellamy pleads. “I promised Anya I wouldn’t let you fight if you weren’t ready.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make,” Lexa fires back.
Bellamy sighs. “Lexa just let her give you a check up.”
Behind him, Clarke sees Octavia approach the group, alerted by the sound of raised voices.
“It’s my own damn fault for hiring my cousin’s sex friend to run my business.” Lexa seeths and stands up while a horrified Bellamy tries to avoid his sister’s inquiring face. A few moments pass before she turns to Clarke.
“Well.”
Clarke turns, “Sorry?”
“Are you going to do your job or not?” Lexa asks. “I need to begin stretching soon.” She starts walking towards the back of the room, where the medical office was located.
She looks at Bellamy who tries (and fails) to give her a reassuring look before she hurries to follow the other woman.
Inside the medical office, she finds Lexa standing with her arms crossed, still clearly irritated.
Whatever, Clarke tells herself. It’s a job, and you need the money. You can’t let some angry rich bitch get in the way of things.
Clarke steps towards the desk at the end of the room where an unusually large diagnosis kit has been placed. She opens it up to find everything she could possibly need: A stethoscope, sphygmomanometer cuffs and infrared thermometer, pulse oximeter, reflex hammer even an AED, oxygen and nebulizers. She eyes the small torch and picks it up along with the stethoscope, which she places around her neck, and picks up the sphygmomanometer cuffs. She walks over to where Lexa is still standing; now checking her phone.
“Please take a seat,” Clarke gestures towards the examination table and for a moment Lexa almost looks like she might refuse but instead quietly makes her way over and sits down.
Clarke pulls out the little torch. “Follow my fingers.”
Lexa simply stares at her for a few seconds and Clarke almost asks again but the other woman complies. When Clarke’s done and satisfied, she takes a step back.
“I thought striking the face wasn’t permitted during fights.” She casually states.
Lexa answers slowly. “It isn’t.”
“Then how did you get these marks?” Clarke leans in to examine the grazes and bruises strewn all over Lexa’s neck and face. Lexa looks uncomfortable at the proximity and looks away while shrugging at her question.
“Sometimes people don’t follow the rules.”
“You?” Clarke probes. “Or someone else?”
“Someone else,” Lexa responds, still studying the other side of the room.
Clarke goes back to the desk and picks up the reflex hammer. “I’ll need your recent medical records if I’m going to clear you to fight.”
Lexa looks back at her but doesn’t respond. Clarke thinks about asking again but walks back over and kneels down in front of her.
Lexa stiffens immediately and Clarke laughs. “I just need to test your reflexes, don’t be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid. I just like being warned before-“
“Any sudden movements?” Clarke finishes, smiling, “Fighting might not be the right thing for you then.”
To her astonishment the corner of Lexa’s mouth lifts slightly, “It’s is the perfect thing for me. Nothing is sudden.”
Clarke scoffs, “You can anticipate someone’s movement before it happens? Do you have a superpower I don’t know about?”
Lexa continues to look amused, finally looking into Clarke’s eyes. “Perhaps.”
Clarke takes advantage of her relaxed state to swing the hammer into Lexa’s knee, eliciting the desired reflex. “Good,” Clarke says continuing her work.
Clarke reaches over and places her hand around Lexa’s thigh, around the underside of her knee, ignoring the other woman’s sudden jerk against the touch and taps the hammer into her own hand. Lexa’s leg feels smooth and warm to touch and Clarke internally chides herself for being so unprofessional.
She decides to test Lexa’s hands and arms as well, nodding in approval every time she receives the anticipated response.
“Great,” Clarke says while taking a step back. “Could you please remove your shirt?”
“Excuse me?”
As a medical student Clarke had become desensitized to nudity, so much so that a patient’s modesty had become more of an annoyance than a concern. She wonders then, why the blush that creeps up Lexa’s neck has elicited a reaction from her own body. She pulls out the stethoscope and places the earpieces in her ear and raises the bell.
“I need to listen to your lungs.”
She can feel Lexa stare at her for a long moment before reaching for her shirt. Clarke looks away and taps the chest piece lightly against her fingers and hears the familiar thud confirming its functionality.
Clarke looks back and finds Lexa shirtless and fidgeting on the bed. Her arms are crossed against her chest.
“I’m going to listen to your heart,” Clarke says reassuringly, “This will feel cold but it’ll be over quickly.”
Lexa reluctantly removes her arms away from her chest. Clarke pauses at the sight of multiple bruises and scattered lacerations over the other woman’s. She reaches out to touch the most severe one, a cut several inches below the left collarbone. Clarke looks down and realizes Lexa has been staring at her.
“Are these from your last fight?” Clark asks as she as she places the chest piece lightly against the left side of Lexa’s sternum. Her heart beat is loud and a little too fast but not unusual for someone who has been training for a fight a short time ago.
“Yes,” Lexa replies, still looking up at her. Clarke realizes her other hand is still pressed against the cut on Lexa’s chest and quickly removes it before moving to listen to the right side of her chest.
“These are extensive. The fight should have been stopped a lot earlier than it was.”
Lexa shrugs. “We had no ringside doctor that day and our usual referee was out sick.”
Clarke shakes her head in disbelief and moves the stethoscope to the center of Lexa’s collarbone. She listens for a few moments and realizes that Lexa’s heartbeat had slowed to a normal rate.
“That won’t happen while I’m here.” She says firmly. Lexa looks at her with a curious expression and says nothing. Clarke
“Do you smoke?” Clarke asks and Lexa shakes her head.
“Just turn around so I can listen to your back.” Clarke smiles and raises the stethoscope resonator. “Let’s see if you’re lying. Deep breath in and out please.”
Lexa turns slowly and Clarke inhales sharply when she see’s the magnificent tattoo covering the other woman’s back. She fights the urge to reach out and trace it, instead continuing to listen to Lexa’s lungs. When she finishes, she realizes she has been staring for too long.
“This is beautiful. Your tattoo.”
Lexa turns around to look at her, green eyes startlingly bright. “Thank you.”
Clarke looks away and presses the resonator against several areas on the other woman’s chest before she places it back on her left side and lifts her other hand to look at her watch. “Just relax for a minute,” She says softly listening to Lexa’s rate of breathing.
Clarke takes the earpieces out of her ear and hangs the stethoscope back around her neck, trying to avoid looking directly at Lexa’s chest.
“Your lungs sound excellent. Definitely not a smoker,” Clarke grins. “Go ahead and put your shirt back on. Just need to check your blood pressure and we’re all set.”
Lexa nods and Clarke wondered how the vicious woman from before had dissolved into such a shy creature.
After checking her blood pressure and finding it within an acceptable range, she nods and steps away.
Lexa gets up off the bed. “Are we done? Am I cleared to fight?”
“Sure,” Clarke said, “Once I’ve received your medical records.”
Lexa gives her a long look before responding. “I’ll have someone deliver them to you.”
“Great,” Clarke smiles and nods; “I’ll see you later.”
“Thank you Doctor Griffin.”
“Clarke. Like you said, I’m not a doctor yet.”
Lexa pauses for a long moment, her expression unreadable, before the unexpected warmth in her reply, “You are as far as we are concerned,” sends Clarke’s heart fluttering wildly in her chest. She watches as Lexa makes her way towards the door and surprises herself when she blurts out the words “Good luck!”
Lexa, already in between the doorframe, turns her head back towards her and Clarke feels truly helpless against the sudden surge of warmth she feels in her chest when she notices the electric smile in her bright glowing eyes. “Don’t need any. Superpowers.”
Clarke remains in place, staring in bewilderment at the closed door before realizing she had been holding her breath so fiercely that she finally releases it with long, gasping sigh.
“Fuck.”
*** End of Chapter
Authors Note:
Hi everyone! Thank you very much for reading my story. This is my first fic so please not judge me too harshly. I would love feedback because I want to learn to write better and it would be nice to hear if anyone enjoyed this story. It would be nice to have a beta for this, as subsequent chapters will be just as long or longer and it will be difficult to edit by myself.
