"You heading home?"

Hawk paused at his motorcycle, glancing over his shoulder to see Miguel standing there, hands in his pockets. At least the swelling in his nose looked a little better after Sensei Lawrence had made him hold an ice-cold beer can on it while he'd finished chewing them out. "Actually, I'm thinking of heading to the park to unwind for a while," Hawk answered.

"Alone?" asked Miguel.

Shifting the weight on his feet as he turned around, Hawk shrugged. "I don't think the others are gonna jump at the chance to hang out with me right now, y'know?"

Miguel licked his bottom lip, eyes falling to his sneakers. The other guys were undeniably unnerved by their ill-advised fight, he couldn't deny that; even Bert had looked uncomfortable by how intense it had gotten by the end of it. And it sunk in for Miguel that they were liable to hold that against Hawk more than they were him; after all, the Miyagi-Dos considered him their Token Good Ex-Cobra. Not to mention landing Hawk in the shit with Sensei over it.

It hadn't crossed his mind when he'd asked Hawk to spar that that might happen. His gut clenched in regret. He hadn't thought any of that through. As the team leader of Eagle Fang, he knew he should have.

"Well, you know the pact we all agreed to, nobody should hang out alone for too long," he reminded his friend. Truth be told, Miguel didn't want to be in the van with Sensei Lawrence when he drove him and the other Eagles home. He couldn't stand the disappointment that practically radiated from Sensei right now. So he decided he could use some time to unwind, too. "You still up for kicking the ball around?" he asked Hawk, his mouth curling in a small smile.

Hawk returned it. Reaching to the bag on his bike, he unhooked the spare helmet and tossed it to Miguel. "Hop on."

The drive from Miyagi-Do to the park nearest to Reseda Heights went by in a flash. The park lights were already on as the orange evening sky had started to darken. But the two of them went ahead with their soccer game for a while. It was nice to concentrate on something else, if only for an hour or so.

Miguel kicked the ball up in the air and made a spectacle of juggling it on his head eight, nine, ten times before it finally dropped, drawing good-spirited laughter from him. He still had it.

"Showoff," commented Hawk as he passed him, stealing the ball. Miguel raced to try and steal it back. Hawk rolled the ball on top of his toes, kicked it up, and then punted it forward. Miguel tried to block it with his chest, only to miss by a wide shot. The ball flew halfway across the field. Running his fingers through his hair, Miguel let out an exhausted sigh at the thought of having to jog over to retrieve it.

"I'm gonna be real, dude," confessed Miguel, a cheesy grin plastered over his face, "I'm so sore right now."

Hawk chuckled, playfully nudging him on the shoulder. "Yeah. Me, too. You gave as good as you got."

Too wiped from their karate match for any intense gameplay, they settled on simply kicking the soccer ball back and forth to each other. And while the physical activity calmed, Miguel's mind started to drift back to practice.

Watching as Hawk bounced the ball over and over on his knee, Miguel told him, "Hey, about the others, about what happened today, don't worry about it. The guys at Miyagi-Do, they're still a little weirded out by how intense things can get at Eagle Fang, but they'll get over it soon. I bet they'll have forgotten it by tomorrow." He couldn't even believe that obvious exaggeration as it left his mouth. He deserved that bewildered expression Hawk leveled at him now.

"Give me a break, man," Hawk replied, letting the ball drop and passing it to him.

Catching it with the inside of his foot, Miguel cringed. "I'll try talking to them," he offered instead.

"Don't bother," said Hawk, rolling his eyes with a scoff. Miguel offering to speak to the others reminded him of the times his parents said they'd talk to the parents of the kids who taunted him, like they could make them be nice to him. He didn't care either way whether the Miyagi-Dos were nice to him, even if constantly being around their bad vibes was draining. "Look, the Miyagi-Dos hate me, they have since day one of the dojo-merge, this isn't anything new."

"They don't hate you," argued Miguel. Then, immediately correcting himself, he amended, "Well, Demetri doesn't hate you." He punted the ball back.

"Demetri's scared of me," Hawk stated bluntly, stopping the soccer ball with the sole of his sneaker; and to think there was a time there when he loved having his friend terrified of him, but now it sunk his gut thinking about it. When Miguel opened his mouth to reply, he cut him off, adding, "And, yeah, I know it's because I broke his arm. Just like I know all the reasons the other guys hate me, too. I'm not looking for any pity, I'm only stating the facts."

The next kick was particularly harsh, and Miguel had to rush to catch it before it went off course down the field again. Picking it up off the ground, he twirled it in his hands and strolled over to Hawk. "I wasn't going to give you pity," he told him honestly. "I was gonna say, hasn't Chris started warming up to you, at least a little?"

Hawk pressed his mouth in a line, sliding his hands into his pockets. "I guess," he conceded with a shrug. Miguel had a point there.

"See?" said Miguel, raising his eyebrows. "Like I said before, just give them all some time. It's only been a month. And as for Demetri, have you guys had a real talk about that? Y'know, about the arm?"

Hawk swallowed the lump that jumped to his throat, remembering the night in Demetri's room. "Yeah."

When Hawk said nothing more, Miguel could only nod. "Okay." He wished he had solid advice to give but he knew the truth was this was something Hawk and Demetri had to figure out themselves. Only time could heal rifts like those Hawk had driven between himself and the others. "I need a break, let's go sit down for a bit."

Miguel walked over and sat on one of the nearby swings, dropping the soccer ball in the pit of wood chips surrounding the swing set. Hawk climbed on the one next to his, standing on the seat, gripping the yellow chains holding it up with his hands to keep himself balanced; the tips of his mohawk barely missed touching the top bar.

"Well, hopefully things aren't too awkward at practice tomorrow," said Miguel, rocking back and forth on his swing a little.

Hawk tilted his head down at him. "What's the lesson, do you know?"

Miguel shrugged. "Dunno. Well, Mr. LaRusso did mention we should bring clothes we didn't mind getting wet."

"Maybe a trip to the beach?" suggested Hawk.

"In February?" asked Miguel, continuing to swing. "Who knows? Sam says Miyagi-Do also thinks outside the box. Something to do with the koi pond, that's more likely. Either way, it's probably gonna be a while before Mr. LaRusso lets you and me spar again in class after today. Shit, maybe even Sensei will agree with him at this point on that." He shook his head, biting his bottom lip. "Damn, I really fucked up, didn't I?"

Hawk gave him a sympathetic look. "Nah, man. Hey, I was serious when I said it's gonna be me and you in the finals this year. So I'll still help you train for the All-Valley anyway I can," he promised. "But eh, maybe no more street fights, though. I mean, I'm cool with kicking your ass and all, just not like that."

A faint grin spread over Miguel's mouth. "If I recall, by the end of that fight, I was kicking your ass," he pointed out.

"Were you? Can't remember," joked Hawk, shifting his weight to propel the swing forward as they chuckled at that. "For real though, if you can hit like that, I don't know why Sensei and Mr. LaRusso won't tell the others to go at you during practice. Well, maybe I can get Mr. LaRusso, but what's up with Sensei?" Hawk's mouth twitched, remembering Sensei Lawrence's chew-out again. He swung himself some more, trying to push a thought to the back to his mind, a thought that reminded him that for as unhinged as he turned out to be, at least Kreese never yelled at him.

Letting the natural momentum of the swing rock him without anymore effort on his part, Miguel sighed. He knew what the issue was. Sensei Lawrence was being overprotective. And on an emotional level, he could understand and even appreciate that Sensei cared for him so much that he didn't want to see him push himself too hard, too fast. But was that love clouding his judgment and making him refuse to see the truth? That Miguel was much farther along now than the others were willing to admit?

Well, they couldn't deny it anymore, could they?

"I'm so sick of people looking at me like I'm someone they should feel sorry for," confessed Miguel, gripping the chains in his palms tighter, the muscles in his shoulders tensing. "It's like, deep down everyone secretly thinks I'm weak."

Hawk's eyes flitted away from Miguel. He stepped off the swing and finally sat normally on it, letting it sway back and forth at the slightest movement of his weight. Then he looked back at his friend. "I know you're not weak," Hawk assured him. Miguel was the strongest person he knew, in every meaning of the word.

Miguel arched a skeptical eyebrow. His next words flew out before he could rethink saying them. "I saw the way you looked at me earlier during the fight. You never would've stopped on account of a nosebleed before. I'm not looking for pity from you any more than you are from me."

"I didn't stop because I pitied you, c'mon," said Hawk, resting his elbows on his knees, running the fingers on his left hand over his right knuckles.

"Yeah, sure," Miguel flippantly retorted, hating how petulant he sounded to his own ears, but letting it out regardless. He let go of the chains, having gripped them so hard they'd left indentions on his palms. Resting his hands on his knees, he let out another big sigh. His eyes fell on the bloodstains on his long shirt-sleeve, from where he'd wiped it across his face earlier; even on a red shirt, he wondered if they would come out.

He knew he shouldn't be going off as he was, but he couldn't pretend to himself he wasn't feeling what he was feeling, and it felt good to air it out.

"No, I mean it," argued Hawk.

Miguel still didn't look like he believed him. He only stared up at him. "Then what was it?"

Hawk licked his bottom lip. His chest had started rising and falling as his breathing picked up. Did Miguel notice? Do it, his instincts told him. Just say it. "Dude, I like you, I don't wanna beat you up for real."

"Like I said, it was just a nosebleed," repeated Miguel.

Hawk's nostrils flared as his breath continued to quicken. He looked down at where Miguel's nearest hand laid relaxed on his knee. Say it, his instincts bellowed again. More like ramble. "Y'know, I came to Eagle Fang so I wouldn't have to fight you like you're my enemy. I mean, yeah, I was upset you wouldn't come back to Cobra Kai but then Sensei Kreese went and let Robby into the group." His eyebrows furrowed hard and his fists clenched. "I was so pissed! I didn't understand, Cobra Kai was supposed to be for life, and he just let in the guy who sent you to the hospital! Sensei Kreese was letting him take your place! And then Kyler was beating the shit out of you during the fight at Mr. LaRusso's and, I dunno, I figured it wasn't Cobra Kai I cared about anymore…." Still gazing at Miguel's hand, he uncurled his right fist. Before he could chicken out, or before Miguel might move it away again, he reached over and laid his on top of it. "It-It was you."

Slowly, he brought his eyes back up to Miguel's. His friend's brown ones were wide, and his brows had risen practically to his forehead in surprise. And for a few seconds, he just stared at him. Then his brows came back down, pinching the slightest like he was in deep thought.

Finally, Miguel breathed, "…Hawk?"

"Yeah?"

"Back when you took me on that ride up to The Snake, were you…?" Miguel let the thought trail off.

Hawk started feeling a clenching in his stomach, the threat of regret coiling around his insides. All he could think to say in return was, "You weren't joking about, y'know, liking guys, too, were you?"

Miguel closed his eyes as the realization hit him and he muttered, "Oh shit…."

Hawk pulled his hand back now. He quickly wrapped them around the swing chains as an uneasy chuckle broke out of him, and he looked away. "N-No, it's cool if you were! Heh, just forget it, it's no big. Totally cool, doesn't change a thing." Perhaps he could go find the Cobras right that second and have them put him out of his misery. What had he been thinking? When was the last time his instincts had ever been right?

Reopening his eyes to glance at Hawk, Miguel shook his head. "No, no, I didn't mean…." He paused again, letting out a deep breath. His hand reached up to run through his hair, his eyes widening again. "I thought you were joking, but I…I'm…." Still with Sam, he almost said. But that wasn't exactly true anymore. Was that why Hawk was making a move now? What else could Miguel say to him at that moment? He was at a loss to find his words.

"For real, it's cool, d-don't worry about it," Hawk stressed again, his laugh strained at it came out of his throat, trying to focus his sight on anything but Miguel.

The two sat in agonizing silence for the next few minutes. Miguel's mind blank. He was blindsided and didn't know how to react. "Maybe we should head out," was his only suggestion. He needed to get home. He could think about it more there.

"Okay."

The ride to Reseda Heights was awkward but mercifully short, at least. And it started to give Miguel an opportunity for his friend's words to sink in as the crisp air whipped around him while he rode on the back of the motorcycle, gripping his arms around Hawk throughout the ride home.

Accepting the spare helmet back from Miguel when they arrived in the parking lot, Hawk flipped up his visor and the two of them simply stared at each other for another long moment "This doesn't change anything between us," said Hawk. His brows then furrowed, and he couldn't help turning his statement into a question. "Does it?"

Miguel gave him a reassuring smile, holding out his hand. Hawk accepted it and Miguel pulled him into a bro-hug. "Of course not, man." They parted and Miguel strolled with heavy footsteps over to his apartment. Giving Hawk one more look from over his shoulder, Miguel turned around and opened the door.

Hawk let out a deep sigh, letting his shoulders sag when Miguel disappeared through it. He wanted to smack himself upside the head; at least he was wearing a helmet if he did. Instead, he tried to ignore the ache in his chest, berating himself under his breath, "You fucking idiot."

Before riding off, Hawk reached into his back pocket. Bringing up his texts, he shot a quick one out before he lost his nerve. He needed to talk to someone: I told Miguel

He didn't think Demetri would reply as fast as he did: after giving him a bloody nose? great timing very romantic

Hawk huffed, almost putting his cell away, but then Demetri followed that text with another one: so how'd it go?

Closing the door behind him, Miguel walked further into his apartment with almost mechanical movements. Both his mother and grandma acknowledged his arrival, but he might as well have been submerged underwater again for as cognizant of his surroundings as he was. Somehow he made it to his room, dropping his bag on the floor before plopping down in his chair.

His vision was drawn to that newspaper clipping again, the one of him holding his championship trophy at the All-Valley, surrounded by his teammates. There was Hawk standing by his side. And Miguel began thinking of all their interactions before and since then: their confrontation in the cafeteria over him breaking Demetri's arm; him telling Hawk about Robby Keene at the beach; Hawk visiting him in the hospital; the first time he'd met Eli when he sat at his and Demetri's table.

Miguel ran his hand through his hair again, running it all the way back to rub at the nape of his tense neck. He let out another deep breath, wondering how long this had been going on.…

The sudden ringing of his phone from his pocket yanked Miguel from his thoughts, and he fished it out. A FaceTime call from Sam. Accepting it, he gave her an exhausted smile. "Hey."

"Hey there," she replied from the other side of the screen. Her face winced in sympathy. "How's your nose feeling?"

"Better," he answered, raising his fingers to touch it; still a little sore, but none the worst for wear. He imagined it looked worse to others than it felt.

Sam's expression got serious. "Promise me you won't do anything like that again."

"Don't worry, I won't," promised Miguel. "I think Sensei would kill me if I tried."

He watched the way her eyebrows creased, saw the way she shook her head incredulously even as she tucked some of her wavy hair behind her ear. "I can't believe Hawk wouldn't stop fighting when he saw things were going too far," said Sam. She paused for a second, like she was thinking twice about the words that came out of her next. "My dad says it's the Cobra Kai conditioning, but I think he just loves the thrill of beating people up."

Miguel stirred in his chair, sitting up straight, wanting to tell her that wasn't fair. Maybe she was letting her concern for him cloud her objective reading of what had happened. Maybe she had run off to grab her father and Sensei Lawrence before she saw Hawk try to end it. And she certainly didn't know about any of the things he'd said in the park.

"Don't be hard on Hawk," requested Miguel. "I told him to not hold back, to fight me like they do in Kreese's Cobra Kai. And, yeah, in hindsight maybe that wasn't the best choice we could've made—"

"You think?" Sam cut in, brushing her hair behind her ear again in visible discomfort.

Miguel sighed, giving her that one. She'd been right, it was a stupid idea. "I'm just sayin', don't take it out on him, alright? If you're gonna be mad at someone, be mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you, Miguel," Sam assured him. "I'm worried about you. Even if we're not dating right now, I care about you. And seeing you today, letting yourself get beat up? And all for what, to prove that you were tough enough to take it?"

"Hey, come on now, give me some props," Miguel joked, putting on a bigger grin in the hopes it might lighten things up. "I think I did a pretty good job dishing it back to Hawk, don't you think?"

Sam didn't look amused by that.

Miguel cleared his throat. "Anyway, I should probably get started on my homework. Y'know, gonna be up for a while with that English reading assignment."

"Heads up, it's a total snooze-fest," Sam warned him, letting a hesitant grin return to the corners of her lips. "Faulkner is pure torture, I don't think he wrote a single book that didn't add ten years to my life reading it."

"Thanks for the warning," chuckled Miguel.

Sam sent him a small wave from her side of the screen. "Have a good night," she said.

Miguel mustered the energy for another tired smile. "You, too."