A/N: This is my contribution for Finding Your Voice: Fandom Fight Mental Illness. :) Thank you to Mandy, aka AgoodWITCH, and everyone that donated and contributed to this cause, whether you wrote, beta'd for someone, or made a banner, it was a greatly appreciated and for a great cause and helped raise awareness. :)

A huge thank you goes to my beta, the gorgeous and amazing Cookie Monster n' Elmo! Her patience and guidance are always great appreciated.

Title: The Fighter

Penname: Babygirl49392

Rating: M for Language and mentions of violence and rape.

Summary: I'd been fighting something or someone my whole life, perfectly content in not having a reason or something to fight for… That was before she came into my life.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything or anyone publicly recognizable. Stephanie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I do own this plot and story however. And no copyright infringement is intended.

Banner: Made by the beautiful and amazing Rosalynn! :) (link on profile.)

The Fighter

She came into the gym close to a year ago looking battered, broken, but fearless and determined. She wouldn't say a word to anyone except the owner, my coach. There was the gossip about her, her story, and why she was here.

During the first month or so she kept to herself and worked on cardio. After the first few months, she gradually started the weight training too, Coach being her trainer. Then one day close to three months ago, I came in for my workout and training session, and she was in the ring sparring with Coach.

To say I was shocked would be the biggest understatement. This woman, who was just a shell of a broken girl months before, was now toned, fierce and totally tearing into Coach almost like he was nothing. While she still had that lost, defeated, and emotionless look in her eyes, I couldn't help but see her as the beautiful woman she was becoming and something pulled inside of me, yearning to know her story, to help and protect her anyway that I possibly could.

After that day, I noticed that our sessions always seemed to coincide with each other. Whenever I was arriving for my training, she'd be just finishing up. Other than me, she's the only other person I'd ever known Coach to train personally. This knowledge just added to the mystery surrounding her.

Slowly as time passed, and my matches loomed closer, Coach started training us together, so as to keep with her schedule but to also increase mine as we always have at this same point in time. She seemed unhappy with this change at first and was reverting back to letting her anger fuel her decisions in the ring, like she was that first day I saw her sparring with Coach. But as she adjusted, and came to like having the extra input and sparring partner, I could begin to see that she enjoyed the sessions more now than she had before.

Still, she never really talked to me openly. If I suggested something referring to training, she listened and made the adjustments. Whenever I tried to talk more personally however, she brushed it off as if she didn't hear me. Every. Single. Time. Even now, after working closely with her six days a week, for the last three months, I can still say that I know nothing about her.

Well, that's not exactly true. I know her name, Rosalie Hale. I know that she has to be at least five foot nine, natural blonde hair, bright blue eyes that have a light honey brown ring right around the pupil, and she has one hell of a right hook. But still, all of that is superficial; everything I can tell you about her lacks depth and meaning. None of that tells me who she is, why she's here, especially when she's not training to fight, to actually enter matches.

She's still just as much a stranger to me as that first day she walked in, and yet, I feel connected to her. Like it's my personal duty to protect her at all costs. Even if that means my life. I just wish that I knew why.

~*~TF~*~

Today is the biggest match of the year. This is for the title, the championship, the belt. And I'm the defending champ. This is what I have solely worked for all year. And Coach got her to come and watch. Knowing that she's out there in the audience, right behind my corner, is all the strength I need to make this happen, to bring that belt back home.

As I steadily get pumped and stay warmed up in the locker room, I hear the consistent roaring sound of all the spectators walking into the arena to their seats, succeeding to further the beating of my heart as the adrenaline increases even more, pumping my blood faster through my veins. In a moment that seems to come too soon and yet too fast at the same time. Coach comes into the room and nods as he holds the door open for me. While walking through the hallways leading to the ring I try to put everything out of my mind, and repeat all my training in my usual mantra but her face continues to pop up during it. And I'm finding I don't mind one bit, that seeing her, even in my mind, helps to further ground and center me for what is about to happen.

After just a few brief minutes, I'm announced and I walk into the ring. As I do the customary circle around the ring for the audience, I look for her when I get to where I'm facing my corner. I find her easily, right behind the stool I'll use between rounds, third row in, and she even gives me a small smile once my eyes lock to hers.

I walk over to where Coach is standing against the ropes and the announcer continues to announce my opponent. I turn to face the center of the ring, and ultimately the opposing corner, just as he walks through the crowd. I hear a hum of noise from the stands, some in favor of him, but most just a deep negative slur.

Once everyone is mostly settled down, I walk over to meet the announcer and my opponent in the center of the ring.

Royce King.

I take him in as the announcer goes through the rules, as is standard. He looks the same as at our last match close to two years ago, though now, he is admittedly more built and toned. This doesn't worry me in the slightest since I know that I've bulked up considerably as well. And not to mention that he fights dirty whenever he knows he can.

I take in his best intimidating stare and return it with one of my own. Standing in front of me is a five foot ten, one hundred eighty pound, cocky man. He's still in the mindset that his family's money is all that matters, even with his matches. He's from a long line of old investment bankers' money. As I can practically feel his arrogance rise, I narrow my eyes at him and level with him, arching my eyebrow in challenge.

With the signal, we touch gloves and turn to our respective corners. I look to her one final time before taking my seat on the small stool. What is meant to be a very brief glance for encouragement turns into an unsettling feeling deep in my stomach.

She looks absolutely stunned and purely frightened out of her mind. And what's worse, she's not even looking at me, more like through me. As I turn to look over my shoulder, I see Royce, yet again, looking overly cocky and arrogant. This look however, chills me to the bone, as he's looking right at her, meeting her gaze, with a silent threat, or maybe reminder.

Turning to look back at her, I notice that her chair is empty. I quickly look around, catching the smallest glimpse of her back before the door closes behind her. Coach slaps me on my shoulder causing me to release the breath I hadn't realized I was even holding. I take my seat on the stool and level my gaze with the man across from me.

Taking one last deep breath, I can feel my stomach bottom out and my heart clinch. I can't be sure of how I know, but I know that he is the reason that beautiful woman came into the gym that day. That he had something to do with why she is the way she is and how come she is so standoffish. This feeling of realization just solidifies my hatred for this worthless excuse of a human being. If I wasn't absolutely sure before, I can now say with 110% certainty that I HATE Royce King.

With the sound of the bell, we both stand to meet in the center of the ring. I'm sure that he's studied tapes of my most recent matches, as I have his, but none of that knowledge is going to help him tonight. All my training has left my mind as my rage takes over and all I can see is her face. Her gorgeous, beautiful face that was all battered, beaten, bruised; swollen and covered in grotesque tones of black, blue, and yellow. Her stunning blue eyes completely left lifeless and void of any emotion.

With one final look at his smug arrogant expression, I feel something inside me snap and I let it loose on him with absolutely no regret.

~*~TF~*~

As soon as the match and ceremonies are over, I rush out of the building. Not caring in the least that I'm still in my shorts and robe, without a shirt. I just pray that I can find her; make sure that she's okay; that he didn't get to her.

I look all around, over all the heads of the crowd, praying that I'll find her soon and unharmed, but definitely before Royce or any of his 'friends' exit the building. Rushing through all the people on the sidewalk, I turn the corner of the building and halt my steps instantly.

While at first I'm not sure what I've come across, and all I heard was sobbing, as I make my way to get a closer look, my heart falls into my feet. There she is; lying on the filthy alleyway concrete, curled into the fetal position, clutching to her small coat for warmth.

I rush to her side, not hesitating to wrap my robe, and arms, around her and pulling her into my lap and holding her close. I feel her body tense minutely before she relaxes and wraps her arms around me too, allowing me to comfort her. I rock her softly and hum some tune I vaguely remember my mom humming to me when I was little.

Minutes later, I hear his voice just nanoseconds before the side door opens a few feet from us. She tenses in my arms again, and burrows into me further, tightening her hold on me. I rest my head atop hers, looking down into what part of her face is visible and ignore him and his cronies as much as is possible.

But of course, he can't just leave and let that happen. Fucking Royce King.

"My, my, what have we here boys?" His sidekicks cackle as if this is the funniest thing to have ever been spoken and I roll my eyes as she tightens her hold on me that much more. "So, how does it feel to have my cast-offs McCarty?" The cronies cackle again and it's my turn to tense briefly.

By now she has completely stopped crying and I think she even stopped breathing on that last crack. I take a deep breath, subsequently breathing her in, and it calms and helps me to continue ignoring them. I give her a squeeze to reassure her, and then I stand, cradling her in my arms and walk towards the door to head back inside to pack up my stuff.

Of course, that would have been too easy and certainly Royce wouldn't choose this moment in time to change and actually let someone just walk away. He stands directly toe to toe with me as his imbecile friends take their ranks around us. I stand to my full height, squaring my shoulders and meet his stare.

"What do you suppose she told him to get his sympathy fellas?" His eyes never falter as he addresses everyone else. "I'm sure it was some big sob story full of lies to make us all look bad." With the cackling filling the air again, I tighten my hold on her and release another deep breath, as he continues with his high school bullying. "You know, you can't believe everything a poor stupid wrench tells you McCarty. Oh, but then again, she's like royalty status to you, huh?" Grinding my teeth together, I try not to show that he's getting to me or to tighten my hold so much that it hurts her in result.

"Don't you think that you're too old for these childish games? Oh, but wait, you were mentally stunted from being passed off from nanny to nanny and school to school with money just being thrown at all the problems you caused, with your parents too concerned with other menial tasks to ever truly be bothered to give you, their son, any real attention. In case you didn't get the message before with me beating your ass in the ring, fair and square I might add; money won't help you to win the matches that matter. You can only use being a professional, if you can even call yourself that, as your lame ass excuse to get away with your petty childish behavior for so long."

Oh, how the silence is so golden in this moment. I push past him, taking full advantage of his shock, and open the door. One step into the building, I get pushed right between the shoulder blades. I stumble just barely before catching my footing to keep from harming Rose in my arms. Releasing another steadying breath, I place a soft kiss on the top of her head.

I slowly drop her feet to the ground and she instantly meets my eyes with her wide tear and fear filled blues. I place a kiss on her forehead and mumble softly to her. "Can you stand on your own?" She nods slowly and two tears run down her face. I flash a brief smile. "Just stay behind me." With another nod from her, I turn and face him.

"Come on McCarty. Show me what you got when the officials aren't around." He continues to taunt me and I can't help but shake my head and chuckle at him. "What? You find this funny? You're outnumbered. How do you think you'd fair? I can assure you it wouldn't be good for you at all." As his cronies' minds catch up to what's happening they all start cracking their knuckles, trying, and failing, to look intimidating. "Oh, come on. The pretty Rose can even be the price. I'm sure all the guys would just love to get a piece of that ass again." And just like that, my laughing stops and my smile is gone. "Oh! Well, look here boys. She didn't tell him about that. Best night of your life huh, little Rosie."

The cackling has started again but I can't bring my attention away from the body pressed against my back. She has completely tensed up again, and she's trembling so bad I'm scared that she's going to simply tumble to the floor at any moment. Ignoring everyone around us again, I turn to her and pull her into my chest. Rubbing my hands along her back and arms to try to calm her again, I start to lead her to the locker room, to Coach.

I hear them all laughing it up and rushing to follow their ignorant leader as he follows us. I get to the door, right as Coach opens it carrying all our stuff. He takes us both in quickly and drops the bags instantly once he sees the guys behind us. I push her into his arms, my jaw clenched so tight my head is starting to pound.

I round on Royce as soon as Coach has her safely in the room. Without an ounce of hesitation, I punch him square in the jaw, knocking him down within a second.

"I wouldn't even bother getting your sick twisted ass up off that floor if you know what's good for you, you selfish trust fund bastard." He starts to rise to his feet and I instantly kick him back onto his back and put my foot on his sternum, with just enough pressure to labor his breathing. "You think it makes you a man to belittle others and beat women? Try again. That does nothing but make you weak and worthless. You. Are. Nothing! And I pity you."

Putting all my weight on his chest for a second more, I remove my foot and turn around, grabbing all the bags. I follow Coach as he leads her out the door.

~*~TF~*~

I cuddle her into my side in Coach's backseat as he drives as fast as traffic and law allows back to the gym. After an hour or so into the drive, she's cried herself to sleep. I brush her hair back off her face, tucking it behind her ear. I take in her face, where even in sleep, she still looks so lost, broken, and my heart breaks for her.

"Emmett, what happened?" Coach's voice startles me out of my observation of her and I bring my eyes up to meet his in the rear view mirror. With a sigh, I rest my head against the headrest of my seat. I take another deep breath and launch into the tale of what had happened before we got to the room.

After about ten minutes of silence, I begin to think he's not going to comment when he speaks softly. "Well, son, I'm proud of you. You handled the situation perfectly; never once giving any of them the opportunity to grab her while he had you pulled into a fight. Not to mention how you only did what you had to so you could get out of there." I meet his glance in the mirror again, startled that he isn't mad about the encounter.

"But, you've always said" He interrupts me swiftly.

"I've always told you fighting in anger never solves your problems and doesn't do anyone any good. Tonight, he kept pushing you and taunting you childishly and you kept a level head instead of giving in to him. You thought about Rose and her well being first and foremost. You only did what you needed to so she was safe and away from them."

I nod at him before looking back at her as she snuggles closer to me, her head falling and resting in my lap. "However, don't think there won't be repercussions for that match tonight. Sure, I'm happy for you and you deserved to win, but son, that was some shit boxing and you know it." Meeting his eyes one final time, I nod to him again before relaxing back into the seat to try to get some rest myself now that my adrenaline is wearing off.

~*~TF~*~

It's been six weeks; a whole month and a half. And I haven't seen her once since that night.

Coach wasn't lying either, not that I once thought he was, but I've practically been living at the gym with how much extra cardio and weight lifting he's been having me do. And there hasn't been any sparring or training in the ring at all either. Repercussions indeed.

After dropping Rose off at her parents, we stopped by the gym so I could pick up my Jeep. With the final words of, "Six AM, don't be late," I was headed home, unsurprisingly a lot less excited than normal.

Thinking about everything that night, I can't help but wish I could have really laid into Royce. He deserves it, and God only knows how much it's truly warranted. But I do agree with Coach that I did everything right, where Rose is concerned anyway. And at the time I hadn't even thought about one of Royce's lemmings grabbing her while I was otherwise occupied with him.

These have been the longest six weeks of my whole life, even without all the extra workouts. Not seeing her every day, not getting the visual confirmation that she's fine has been torture. I hadn't realized just how much I depended on seeing her each day to feel alive, complete. But that's exactly what has happened, how I feel without getting to see her daily now.

All Coach knows is that she's okay, and is staying home for now. There was never any mention of when, or even if, she'd come back to training. Hearing that, I nearly lost all will to continue with my own schedule and training.

Today started off like any other day. Wake up at five, eat breakfast, get ready and head to the gym, and train from six AM to eight-ish PM. That all changed, and I felt a renewed charge of energy, around two this afternoon. I could sense her presence before I ever saw her. When I finally caught a glimpse of her, it was just briefly as Coach closed the door on her and an older couple, most likely her parents, in his office.

Taking a deep breath, I feel as if it's the first substantial breath of air I've breathed in the last several weeks. At this moment, I'm resigned to admit, that I've fallen in love with her. Even knowing practically nothing about her, I can't help that I'd do anything for her, absolutely anything she asked me to. I'm in love with Rosalie Hale!

After what seems like hours, but really can only be around five minutes, the office door opens and the couple walks out heading straight to the front door of the gym. Coach walks over to me, asking me to come to his office. With a nod, I follow behind him, taking my gloves off.

With a simple motion, I take my seat in the chair beside her. She's staring down at her hands as they twist in her lap. And even with her obviously nervous, shy behavior towards me, I can't help but feel like I'm where I'm meant to be for the first time ever.

We both jump slightly at hearing the door close and I glance around seeing that Coach has stepped out. I do notice though that he's just outside, and left the shade up so he can easily watch her, us, from the corner of his eye.

I release a breath before I take the courage and break the silence.

"Rose? How have you been? I've been worried," I cut myself off, not wanting to say too much and scare her. I watch her continue twisting and starring at her hands. I gently reach out and rest my hand on both of hers, stilling the movement. "Rose?" My voice sounds too defeated and desperate for my comfort, but I honestly don't know what else to do or say at this moment.

She finally looks to me, but doesn't meet my eyes. She speaks a moment later, but she ignores my question. "I-I-I w-wa-want t-t-to th-tha-thank y-y-ou E-em-em-" I cut her off by squeezing her hands softly and show her a smile.

Admittedly her voice is so soft and sweet that I'm instantly calm and relaxed at hearing her speak for the first time out of the ring. But I'm surprised by the stuttering. She's never done it before, that I've ever heard anyway. And she's never sounded this small. Her voice has always been so full of confidence and so strong; though I can say that it has gotten stronger and sturdier as her training has progressed.

She meets my eyes finally and returns my smile. I squeeze her hands again in encouragement. And she continues, not breaking our eye contact at all. "Y-y-ou r-r-real-ly d-d-didn-'t n-n-need t-t-to d-d-do th-th-that f-f-or m-m-me." She takes a breath and swallows thickly before diverting her eyes and continuing on. "I j-j-jus-t w-w-ant y-you t-to k-kn-know th-tha-t I a-ap-ap-prec-iate i-it." Looking up again, she gives me a sweet smile as a look of relief crosses her face.

"It was nothing sugar. I'm glad I found you when I did and was there for all of it. I'd hate to think what would have happened if he came out sooner, before I got there. I wouldn't change anything and would gladly rush to do it all again. For you. You are worth it all Rose." I pull her into as much of a hug as sitting in the chairs allow.

We stay like that for a few minutes before my curiosity peaks and I need to know if she'll tell me, finally, what happened to her. I pull back and cup her face in my hands, brushing her cheek bones with my thumbs softly.

"Rose? Can you tell me what happened to you?" Her eyes go wide and tears instantly spring to fill her eyes and I immediately feel like shit for even asking. "If you don't what to or can't yet, that's okay. I… I just want you to know that I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere. No matter what, I'm never going to be able to leave you." As her tears fall down her cheeks, my thumbs catch them and brush them away instantaneously.

"I-I-I w-wa-want t-to E-em. B-b-but I-I j-ju-just c-c-can't." I hush her softly, pulling her into me again, as the door opens and closes behind me. Looking up minutely, I see Coach there, leaning against his desk.

"Um, everything alright?" I shrug because I honestly don't know. But she speaks, well, as much as her tears allow her to anyway.

"I-I w-wa-want h-him t-to k-kn-know. H-he n-ne-need-s t-to k-kno-w. H-he" She stops there and I move to rub her back and calm her down.

I hear Coach release a heavy breath before he addresses her. "Okay, Rose, if you're sure." She nods slightly. "And I take it you want me to tell him?" Another nod and I look between the two before settling my gaze on Coach with my brow furrowed in confusion.

He moves to sit in his chair before he levels his gaze on me. Taking one more deep breath, he starts her story, as she sobs and trembles in my arms all the while.

I listen silently, in slight shock with my anger growing with each word he speaks, as he goes into exactly what that rat bastard and his waste of space friends did to her. Taking turns beating and raping her; keeping her quiet by strangling or suffocating her; beating her within an inch of her life and leaving her for dead right on the street, clothes all tattered and torn, not covering anything.

I listen as I hear of the extensive damage they caused her. All the surgeries, doctors visits … brain damage. How she was technically brain dead for close to two full minutes. Causing her to have to relearn certain things, including speaking correctly without slurring everything together. If she's not concentrating, she won't stutter but it's hard to make out what she's saying because it'll all run together.

Without realizing it, my grip tightens on her. When she whimpers softly, I look down and notice that she's wincing from the pain my hold has caused. I instantly loosen my grip and give her an apologetic look and place a kiss on her head.

Having heard everything, I want to just track him and his friends down one by one and make them pay for what they have caused her. Make them feel every last inch of pain that she's had to go through because of them.

I close my eyes, and hug her close to me again, breathing in her scent, letting it calm me and bring me back. After several deep breaths, I can feel my heart rate start to regulate again. My reasonable side taking control and reining my anger back in.

She pulls back and looks directly in my eyes. And I can see it there. Love. In that one moment, I know we're going to be okay. We'll make it through this and anything else that is thrown our way. It briefly, very briefly, runs through the back of my mind that if it wasn't for Royce's stupid ass, I wouldn't have met her; wouldn't have fallen in love with her. Now that I have her, I'm never letting go. For the first time in my life, I have something worth fighting for and I'll be damned if I let anything or anyone take it away from me.

A/N: Good? Bad? Love it? Hate it? Please take a brief moment and let me know your thoughts! :)