Before You Walk Away
So wrote this ages ago to satisfy the urge to write some Austin/Sasha bro-mance and am only posting it because: (a) the doc was close to expiring (again) and I don't actually have a copy outside of this; (b) I noticed that I was one story a way from having 50 stories, and seeing as I already have this one . . .
Story set in 2x11. Unfortunately, it's not all that consistent with the rest of the season.
Disclaimer: I do not own Make It or Break It.
Summary: Kim had her chance to convince Sasha back to The Rock, but what if Austin had his? Austin/Sasha Bro-mance. One-shot.
Before You Walk Away
"Woah . . . this place is a dive," Austin condemned as he walked into the boxing facility in search of his coach (well, former coach).
Sasha glared, not standing up to greet him with a polite hello. He looked back down at his hands, winding tape around his knuckles in preparation for his work out. "What are you doing here, Tucker?"
"Just thought I'd come say 'hi'," Austin shrugged casually, "seeing as you're in the neighborhood."
"Marty needs to learn how to keep his bloody mouth shut," Sasha muttered in response, glaring at his feet. "What do you want, Tucker?"
"I thought I might as well give things a shot and see if I can convince you to stay," Austin replied, shrugging once again. He gave Sasha his most innocent looking grin as the former gold medal gymnast finally looked up in his direction. Sasha just shook his head and made his way to one of the punching bags, starting slowly and working out his aggression on the inanimate object.
Austin sighed and followed him towards the hanging bag, making sure to stand just outside of Sasha's reach. "What are you still doing here, Belov?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He knew the reason - they all knew the reason though nobody would have dared to admit it - but he wanted to hear Sasha say it, just once.
"I just have to sort out my visa," Sasha replied tightly, throwing several punches at the heavy bag.
"Your visa?" Austin scoffed. "Since when did you need a visa to travel 'round a country that you were born in? I don't claim to be an expert when it comes to immigration law, but I'm pretty sure visas only apply to aliens and the like."
Sasha could say nothing in response, more or less confirming Austin's suspicions. He was here for the exhibition. He could have just waited it out in Cambria or anywhere else in the country, but he choose to hide out in Denver where he knew his rebels would be performing the next day.
"So . . ." he said, as Sasha attacked the punching bag with vigor, dipping and swaying as it reacted to his hits. "I've got a new recruit for The Rock," Austin told him. "A friend of mine. Max Spencer."
"So what, Austin?" Sasha replied between punches, not even looking away from the punching bag. "I didn't come to Boulder for the men. I came for those girls and I've taken them as far as I could. Now I'm just hurting them."
Austin rolled his eyes. Sasha was such a martyr - always had been from what he'd heard - and he took the blame for everything upon himself. He didn't understand that the girls made their own decisions and that he couldn't take responsibility for everything they did just because he was their coach. It wasn't Sasha's fault that Kaylie had crumbled under the pressure, or that Emily had made a stupid choice, or that Lauren was messed up in ways that Austin didn't have the words for. They were their own people, and Sasha had done everything he could for them.
Of course, Austin also suspected that that was only half of the reason for Sasha leaving Boulder.
"I know, Belov," he responded blandly. He held back a smile as he casually offered one other piece of information. "I think he has a thing for Payson."
He watched Sasha falter at the words, losing his stride and almost getting himself hit in the face by the swinging punching bag. It was probably the only time he'd ever seen Sasha falter, and he wasn't all that surprised that she was the reason why.
"What do you expect me to do, Austin?" he heard Sasha ask tiredly, holding the punching bag in his hands and resting his head against the plastic material. "Tell her she can't date and that boys are a distraction she can't afford this close to the Olympics.
"I'm not her coach anymore," he finished sadly, his voice falling hopelessly.
"No," Austin agreed sadly, losing hope. "I just thought that would do it.
"I guess there's only one thing that could bring you back," he sighed with a sense of finality. His shoulders fell as he resigned himself to the foregone conclusion - Sasha wasn't come back, at least not for anything short of a pintsized blonde miracle. "She's not coming," he said accusingly. "You might as well just go."
"I - " Sahsa began, making to protest, but there was nothing in Austin's words he could disagree with. As always, Austin had seen right through what ever masks the people had put on around him. He finally looked in Austin's direction, meeting the younger man's gaze.
"Just look out for her, would you?" he pleaded quietly. "Just . . . make sure she's okay."
"I will," Austin assured him. "I'll be big brother Austin keeping all the big bad men away from her."
"That's not what I meant," Sasha replied sternly.
"I know," Austin shrugged smugly. "But it's what you were thinking.
"If I don't see you, thanks," he said, offering his hand. "You were a good coach, Sasha, even if you did practically desert us.
"Good bye, Sasha," he waved, wondering if he'd ever see the mysterious Sasha Belov again. He hoped so, if for nothing more than the fact that it would make Payson and Emily and Kaylie and even Lauren very happy. And for some reason very close to his heart, he cared deeply about their happiness.
After all . . . they were his rebels too.