Story Title: A Boy and His Car: Kayla's Side

Series Title: A Boy and His Car

Author: Mathais

Rating: T

Fandom: Power Rangers

Warnings: None

Pairings: None

Summary: Kayla never understood someone so well as when she traded blows with them.

Disclaimer: I don't own Power Rangers and the things associated with it; they belong to Saban.

OoOoO

"Too slow!" Kayla called as she ducked beneath Justin's high kick, shifting herself so she was inside his guard while he recovered. But Justin turned his kick into a twist that dodged away from Kayla's retaliatory blow, taking a couple steps back to put some distance between the two of them.

Kayla panted slightly as she surveyed her opponent, while Justin looked steely as he stared her down. Kayla had known what she was getting into when she called for this spar—Justin was a black belt, a black belt who could hold off Pihranatrons. Hell, he'd held off Cogs by himself too. There was no denying that Justin was good.

What was disappointing was how sloppy Justin had become. The speed he moved at, the openings he left... There was no doubt that Justin was physically stronger, but he was more reckless. Angrier.

Where the hell was that skilled fighter she'd seen? The one who she'd looked up to? Who she'd admired?

Kayla launched forward with a distance-eating jumping sidekick. Instead of dodging it as she intended, he stepped forward and moved into the attack, sliding into her guard with a punishing left hook.

Kayla barely managed an awkward block that sent fire racing down her arms and was forced to use her natural flexibility to regain her footing, after catching and locking Justin's wrists.

"The hell was that?" Kayla demanded. "That was shit reckless and you know it."

Justin's eyes burned. "It would have worked."

"Against me, maybe," Kayla scoffed, "but what if I was better, huh? You trying to get yourself brained?"

Justin simmered, wrists shaking, and Kayla knew she had to let go. She leapt backward, putting some space between them as Justin breathed out explosively. Like an oncoming wave, Justin dove at her again, copying her jump kick with more finesse. Because she wasn't as batshit insane as he was, she full out dodged the attack with a step to the side and intended for retaliation when Justin landed, pivoted on his feet, and kicked once more, this time aiming at her legs.

For all the skill needed to pull off that recovery and attack, he left himself wide open. She stepped around his attack, jabbing her elbow into his side in a chastising but painful blow. She didn't get her guard up in time for his return strike and took a hit to the stomach, but it only a fraction of the strength it could have been.

They continued to trade blows back and forth, and though Justin's hits were still coming out strong and fast, she noticed that he was becoming sharper as they went. Even when her lungs started to burn from the effort, she was grimly satisfied to see Justin starting to relax.

Relax might not have been the right term, Kayla amended in her head as what seemed like a clean hit was brutally blocked, with a fist aiming for her stomach not a moment later. She grabbed his wrist and twisted out of the way, and then Justin broke free and retreated to survey her once more.

Justin was more focused, losing himself in the ebb and flow of fighting. The ever-present pain Justin carried seemed to lighten a little with each blow struck, dodged, or blocked.

She knew the others had their own ways. Fred was content to talk, Nico, to silent support.

Kayla, though?

Kayla was never more at home with someone than she was with them like this.

Every hit was a message Justin broadcast. Every strike, every blow was a way Kayla could understand him.

There was grief. A deep-seated grief covered by anger and hate. Justin transmitted that with every blow.

Nico could give Justin his support. Fred could draw him out of his shell.

Kayla could give Justin the outlet it he needed.

It was the least she could do.

She kept that in mind as she caught Justin's wrist when he overextended and, with a slightly mocking smirk, kicked his legs out from underneath him. "Getting sloppy there."

Further taunts died in her throat when she caught sight of Justin's eyes. They looked beyond her, seeing something that she could not.

"Fuck," she whispered under her breath.

And then she had to move when Justin broke out of her grip and spun against the ground, with her barely evading his sweep kick. She quickly found herself almost unable able to block the blows Justin rained down on her, too fast for her to dodge. There was a desperate, animalistic fury in the way he moved, struggling against a superior foe or foes. Though she could only spare a little bit of attention, Kayla noticed the way that Justin's eyes flickered to and fro, as if he was surrounded and was futilely searching for a way out all alone.

But you were never supposed to be alone.

Kayla felt the familiar stirrings of anxiety along with a certain type of fear she had only known since the day she started her first suicide watch shift outside of Justin's room. This was what she was battling with. It was better now, far better, but he was still...

She paused and thought, "He's so broken."

Her inattention cost her. Kayla's much abused arms slipped, and it was enough for Justin to get a shot in. The world rang as blinding pain smacked her in the face and sent her sprawling against the ground, dazed. As she got her bearings, she heard Justin's pained groan as he too fell, and then Kayla was moving. Without any input from her mind beyond the fact that Justin was in danger, she leapt to her feet and aimed a roundhouse kick. It was only after her target sunk to the ground with pained groan and she planted herself between it and Justin did she realize that it was Rocky, the one who had taught her for years.

She didn't lose her stance.

Because while Rocky may have been her teacher in her past, Justin was her current teacher and more of a friend than Rocky ever was or would be.

OoOoO

"The thing about fighting against a group is that you can never really stay in one place. Unless you're in a defensible location, you'll be surrounded and attacked from behind if you try to hold one position."

Kayla dodged a sandbag to the back, right before she nearly got brained by another tossed from above.

"One of the most important things you can have is spatial awareness. Anything and everything can be used against you—"

She tripped over a crack in the ground and took a painful chastisement when a bag of sand dropped right on top of her.

"—or for you."

Through the reflection of a piece of broken glass on the ground, she saw a barrage aimed for her back. Kayla rolled against the ground and dodged.

"You can't expend too much energy dealing with every little threat—"

Arms burning, Kayla blocked what seemed like the hundredth projectile, only to realize it wasn't a sand bag but a light bouncy ball.

"—otherwise you won't have the strength to deal with the real problems."

She hissed as by rapid-fire whiffle balls hit her side faster than she could dodge.

"But too little—"

Expecting another ball, Kayla twisted and smacked the incoming projectile.

"—and you won't make it past the obstacle at hand."

She gave a small cry as she hit sandbag instead, pushing her wrist the wrong way.

"In the end, the best thing you can do is figure out whether to dodge—"

Kayla twisted around a particularly heavy sandbag.

"—block—"

She took the brunt of a bouncy ball but didn't waver.

"—or attack—"

She knocked away another two.

"—in the most efficient manner possible."

Kayla swept in and kicked the target in the side, knocking it clean off the crate.

"Once you have that down, the rest is experience."

Kayla breathed in deep, trying to calm her nerves, but she was still psyched from the adrenaline. She practically vibrated in place as she watched Justin climb down from the rafters, a small smile on his face.

Small, but present.

Kayla, flushed from exertion, grinned even wider.

"You did good, Kayla." Complements from Justin, especially now, were like pulling teeth. He didn't believe in heaping praise on the undeserving; being a black belt at his age meant as much. She tried not to show how much his praise affected him, but she was pretty sure her eyes were lighting up.

"Thanks so much for helping me. No one really wanted to."

Justin shook off her response. "You asked. The least I could do was this."

But it was no small thing. Kayla knew that, when most people looked at her, they saw a girl. Martial artist she may have been, but no one wanted to get down and dirty with her, not even other girls.

Except Justin.

Justin taught lessons intermingled with bruises and pain. He wasn't afraid to hurt her when teaching, and he accepted similar pains when he himself slipped. No one she knew did the same, and Kayla learned so much better this way. When, at the end of the day, her body ached like hell and was covered in bruises, Kayla felt her absolute best. Sore, worn out, but brimming with power. It was like this she felt most at peace.

As she smiled at Justin, she wondered if it was the same for him.

"There's something else I want to try," he said. Though his pose, leaning against a crate, was stoic, Kayla saw the amusement in his eyes. "There's still more to teach, but spatial awareness is where most of it begins."

"I'm up for more!"

"Good. I'm going to provide an example, but I want you up in the rafters out of range."

A demonstration! Kayla gleefully scampered up the ladder to the overhangs of the abandoned warehouse Justin had set up this training course in, eager to see what Justin had in store. She perched herself carefully in one of the spots that would let her see everything.

"This lesson works off of spatial awareness. We're going into improvisation now. Once you know what's around you, you can use it to your advantage. Or you can create advantages where you used to have disadvantages."

Under Kayla's intent gaze, Justin sparred against invisible foes. She watched and analyzed and learned as he swept through the room like a tsunami, ducking and weaving between crates and sandbags left behind.

Her breath caught as he somersaulted and picked up a metal pipe in one smooth motion. When he was back on his feet, he was already swinging.

It was beautiful.

So enraptured by his movement, Kayla almost didn't notice when Quantrons burst in, hostages—mostly kids their age and younger—in tow. But she did, and she and Justin exchanged a look that said everything they needed to.

Justin twirled his pipe before launching it at her. Kayla, scrambling down the ladder, caught it in midair. Metal scraped against her hand, but she didn't care as she spun and tripped a Quantron. Kayla leapt over an attacking Quantron and found herself at Justin's back when he launched himself over a crate to kick a Quantron in the head.

"What do we do?" Kayla asked, one eye on their enemies as they spun in a slow circle.

"Free the hostages and then leave," Justin answered grimly. "Looks like you're going to get an object lesson."

Kayla loosened her stance as her blood began to heat up. "Looks like. I'm going after the hostages."

"I'll draw their attention," Justin said and then became a blur of motion. Kayla danced around several Quantrons, trusting her weapon to do what she didn't have the strength to perform barehanded. Seeing an opening, she backed herself up against a crate before leaping into the air and onto it, just as a Quantron struck at her with its weapon. The blade got stuck in the crate's wood, and Kayla swung low to knock it out. From her position atop the crate, she watched the Quantrons be drawn to Justin's significantly larger threat, and so she hopped across the crates to get where she needed to. The added height gave her a better view of the room, and few Quantrons wanted to meet her there. Though her legs and arms were nothing but giant throbbing limbs of pain, Kayla pushed herself forward and grabbed one of the chain links Justin used to launch sandbags at her. She swung across the room, though part of her kept an eye Justin.

He moved like he knew what it was to fight for his life. He ducked and weaved and dodged, never staying in one place, and let the Quantrons hurt themselves and each other far more than he actually hit them himself. He caught a chain and twisted it around a Quantron's weapon, redirecting it into another Quantron's stomach. It was by far the simplest thing he did.

But there were weaknesses in the way he moved. Even as she crouched down next to the hostages, she could see the way Justin left his back open, the way he moved as if there should be someone next to him. Though he was quick to cover those openings...

...it was heartbreaking.

"Head out the back, be quiet, and then get as far away from here as possible," she whispered.

The kids took a little more prodding, but they eventually managed to take off. Kayla turned in time to see Justin take a blow across the face, and then she took off too.

She'd already spent an hour doing hard physical labor. She had bruises on her bruises, her limbs ached, and her vision blurred from exhaustion at times. She was running purely on adrenaline at this point.

None of it mattered.

Kayla fought her way to where the Quantrons now surrounded Justin, and she took down the one that was aiming for his head. One eye on the surrounding enemies, Kayla knelt and offered her hand. "The kids are free."

Justin didn't quite smile, but his eyes lightened in spite of the grim look on his face. "It's time to leave then. You ready?"

Kayla grinned.

Justin dove into the crowd, punching and kicking his way through the pack. Kayla was right at his heels, making sure his back was protected as she did her fair share of fighting. Justin spun left, ducking underneath a Quantron's punch, and Kayla was immediately in the opening. She dropped it with one blow to the unprotected stomach. She stepped away from another Quantron's rush, which left it open for Justin's clothesline to the chin.

The two of them fought their way to the exit, just as the Rangers rushed in. Though Kayla dearly wanted to stay and watch, she had to follow Justin, who had paled and run at the sight of them.

Adrenaline was quickly fading, leaving behind only the burn in her body and lungs. Her hair stuck in clumps and tangles, she was bleeding from various abrasions, and she wanted nothing more than a hot shower before she collapsed into bed, but Kayla dug deep into herself and kept pace with Justin.

Justin eventually stopped in a secluded section of the park, where he stood with his head bowed. Almost tentatively, Kayla walked to his side.

"What's the matter?" she asked, her tone soft.

Justin visibly struggled with his words, conflict plain on his face. When Justin opened his mouth and began with, "I can't—" Kayla stopped him.

She heard what she needed to.

The implication that he would if he could was enough for her.

"It's all right. I learned something else today."

Justin's eyes were so broken when they looked at her, but she steeled herself and met him head on.

"It's so much easier when you have someone at your back."

Kayla held her breath as they locked gazes. Neither spoke in the ensuing silence.

Not with words anyway.

Something in Justin's eyes shifted as she watched. They weren't healed, not by any stretch of the imagination.

For a second, just a second, she thought that they better. A little less broken, a little more whole.

And when a smile, not a grin or a smirk but a genuine smile, twitched at the ends of his mouth, Kayla felt herself answering in kind.

"Yes," Justin said, voice low. "It is. Here, I'll help get you home."

He offered her his hand.

Smiling so wide her cheeks ached, Kayla took it.

OoOoO

Kayla didn't lower her fists as she stood between Justin and Rocky, protecting the former and staring down the latter.

"Kayla?" Rocky wheezed out. "What? Why?"

"You won't get near Justin," she hissed. "You won't touch him, you won't—"

"He was hurting you!" Rocky interrupted, pain, not just physical, on his face. "He shouldn't—"

"It was a spar," Kayla shot back. "It was a spar, and..."

She quickly glanced back, and her heart sunk the moment she saw Justin realize what was happening. He was closing himself off again, sealing away both his anger and pain until he was numb. Blank. Impossible to work with, to reason with.

Impossible to heal.

All of the work she'd done. Gone. The progress in getting him to open up.

Kayla felt a growl build in her throat and her fists shake.

"Do you realize what you just did?" She knelt and grabbed Rocky by the collar of his shirt. Though she knew distantly that the only reason she could do this was because Rocky was letting her, her anger overrode it. "You're not helping!"

Sad eyes pleaded. "If he's hurting bad enough to lash out—"

"—then let him lash out!" Kayla shouted. "It's better than him hiding away! It's better than him locking it all down, shutting himself down. And that's what he does when you all get involved."

"We've hurt him," Rocky said quietly. "I know we've hurt him."

"And I don't want to see you," Justin intervened, his voice cool and even. It doused the flames of Kayla's anger even as it sent a cold shiver up her spine.

She dropped Rocky and turned to Justin, who stood as still as stone. His eyes seemed placid on the surface, but Kayla could see the fragility behind them. Rocky was pushing him.

"Just leave me alone," he said. Justin spun on his heel and stalked off.

"You've done enough," Kayla snarled. "Let us fix what you broke."

She didn't wait and see Rocky's face crumple and collapse on itself. Kayla rushed off to catch up with Justin, mind racing.

She would protect Justin, yes, even if it meant going up against people who she'd looked up to for a decent portion of her life.

Kayla would always have Justin's back.

Always.