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The past three years had proven to be an amazing time for "Marvelous" Martin McGregor. The now twenty-one year old folf was undefeated in the middleweight division, with a record of twenty-three wins. Not only did he have a perfect record, Martin had both a World Boxing Association and World Boxing Council middleweight world championship belts to his name. He had certainly proved that the apple didn't fall far from the tree in the fighting department. But genetics and lineage alone wouldn't be enough to gain him what he hoped would be his next victory. The folf was in training camp, getting ready to take on the also undefeated Ian "Hurricane" O'Brien, a cheetah from Ireland who held the WBO/IBF Middleweight world titles and was looking to unify his division with Martin's titles. The upcoming fight was all the boxing world could talk about, with experts estimating that it might be the most pay per viewed sporting event in history; a record presently held by Martin's father Bradley when he fought Will McCallister for the undisputed heavyweight championship of the world. Sports writers wee divided on how the fight would turn out, with many saying that it was a fifty-fifty chance of either fighter winning.

But there was one fight that was not going to be won.

Tori was sitting alone in her bedroom, waiting for her husband to come home. Unlike any other day, this would not be a joyous occasion. She sighed to herself, thinking about how difficult the past few days had been for her husband, and it was only going to get worse. She brushed a tear away from her face as she heard the front door open. Getting up, she went out into the living room to see Bradley entering the door. He took his coat off, putting it away in the closet next to the front door.

"How long ago?" asked the vixen meekly.

"About an hour ago," said Bradley. "He went very peacefully, sleeping."

Tori walked over, putting her arms around her husband, trying to comfort him. "I'm so sorry," she said, burying her muzzle into his chest. Bradley pet his wife's head, knowing that she would be there for him.

"How's your Mom?" asked Tori, removing her face from the wolf's chest.

"She's with her sisters right now," said Bradley. "Where' the kids?"

"They're with my parents right now. I didn't think you'd want them to see you crying right now."

"Thanks," said Bradley, squeezing her tight. "I guess Martin's still out back right now?"

"Yeah," said Tori, reaching for a tissue on a stand near the entrance. "I think we should wait until he's done with training for the day before we tell him."

"Right," said Bradley, taking a tissue too. "No sense in bothering him while he's training for the fight of his life."

"He's going to be absolutely heartbroken," said Tori, feeling the tears rolling down her face. "He kept telling me that Grandpa was going to live to see him become an undisputed champion."

"Yeah," said Bradley. "I wish he could've."

After an intense day of running, lifting, sparring, jumping rope and all the other things that a fighter has to do during a training camp, Martin was ready to come inside and relax. His entourage of trainers included Will McCallister, Oliver McCallister, who had decided not to take up his father's mantle of fighting, but instead go into athletic training, and his fellow fighter and friend Matthew Jackson, who was enjoying a successful career fighting in the Light Heavyweight division.

Martin was the first to walk inside, coming in via the backdoor of the house. Instantly, he noticed something out of place. His parents were in the living room sitting still, there faces sorrowful as they looked at their eldest son.

"Something wrong?" asked the folf.

Bradley and Tori waited until Will, Oliver and Matt were present, and then asked them if they might have some private time with Martin. Honoring their request, Will and Oliver left for their home, and Matthew, who now owned a home down the street from them, made his exit.

"Please, sit down, Martin," asked Bradley.

The folf sat down, seeing that something was indeed very wrong. He watched his father look up at him, his face sorrowful. "Martin, there's no easy way to tell you this, but about an hour ago I came back from Grandma and Grandpa's. Grandpa had gotten really bad the past few days and . . ." Bradley saw the expression on his oldest son's face. "Martin, I'm sorry, but Grandpa Martin died an hour ago."

"What?" said a shocked Martin, feeling his knees suddenly grow weak.

"Honey, I'm so sorry," said Tori. "He'd gotten much worse over the past few days and there was just nothing the doctors could do for him."

"And you didn't think to tell me?" asked an angry Martin, tears now rolling down his face. "Didn't you think I'd at least want to tell him good bye?"

Bradley shook his head. "You were busy training, son. Besides, you wouldn't have want to have seen him like that. You wouldn't want to remember your grandfather like that."

Martin turn around and ran back to his room, sobbing uncontrollably the whole way there. Tori motioned to get up, but Bradley staid her. "Let him stay back there for awhile, sweetie. He wants to be by himself for now."

Bradley let two hours pass before knocking on his son's door. Martin, lying on his bed, answered.

"Come in,"

Bradley entered, seeing his son had stopped crying, but was obviously still in pain. He sat down on the edge of his bed, reaching a paw out to his son.

"How're you feeling, champ?"

"I've been better," said Martin. "I still can't believe Grandpa's gone."

"Neither can I," said Bradley. "I'm . . . I'm sorry I didn't tell you about him. You had a right to go see him when . . ."

Martin shook his head. "You were right, Dad. I was busy training. Besides, I don't want the last memory of my grandfather to be him lying on his deathbed, helpless, just waiting to pass silently into that good night. I want to always remember him as the tough old warrior he was."

"So do I," said Bradley, managing a slight smile for the first time in days.

"Dad," said Martin, looking over at his father. "You never knew your grandfather, did you?"

"Nope," said Bradley, shaking his head. "He died before I was born."

"I heard he wasn't a very nice guy," remarked Martin.

"No, he wasn't," confirmed Bradley. "All your grandfather ever said about him was that he was a mean, worthless, drunken lout who never did anyone any good."

"Wow," said Martin. "Doesn't sound like someone I'd want to know."

"Me neither," chuckled Bradley. "I was very, very lucky, son. My father learned from the mistakes his father made and he promised himself he'd do better for his son. Grandpa never hit me, never cursed at me. When I was a cub, I was everything in the world to him. My needs came first before anything. Grandpa learned from the mistakes his father made, I learned from the mistakes he made, and you'll learn from the mistakes I made."

"What mistakes did you make?" asked Martin. "You and Mom have been wonderful parents!"

"For starters," said Bradley with a grin. "I seem to recall fathering a certain folf when I was still a teenager, a young teenager at that."

"Hey," said Martin, giving his father a playful punch. "That folf was me!"

"So it was," said Bradley. "And I remember just how happy your grandfather was after he got over the shock of me having a cub at such a young age. You should see the pictures we took of the two of you! He was always holding you, telling you that you were going to be the greatest fighter to ever live. He lived for you, and your brothers and sisters."

"Yeah," said Martin, lowering his head. "I'd give anything to still have him here to see me fight O'Brien."

"He'll be there," said Bradley, pointing at Martin's heart. "And he'll always be right there with you."

"Dad?" said Martin, his eyes welling up with tears.

"I love you," said the folf as he embraced his father, sniffling as he buried his muzzle into the wolf's chest.

"I love you too, son," said Bradley, feeling the tears run down his face again. Father and son held each other, both of them needing the comfort.

"Now," said Bradley, smiling at his son. "How about you come out to the living room to see Mom? She's going to need your help when your brothers and sisters get home and hear the news about Grandpa."

"I'll do anything I can to help," said Martin.

"I knew I could count on you, boy," said Martin, putting his arm around his boy.

"Hey, Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Now that Grandpa is right here with me, I don't think O'Brien has a chance, does he?"

Bradley laughed as they walked down the hall. "Not a snowball's chance in hell,son!"