CHAPTER 64

1 am, past midnight, and the night was beginning to settle down a little. At Moon's house, many of the teenagers were getting ready to go home, shuffling out of the house and making their way home. There were still some people there though, many of the Miyagi-Dos, as well as a certain Cobra Kai, who was still too drunk to be able to go home at that moment.

Marcos wasn't sure just how many drinks he had had over the course of the night. Definitely more than the 3 or 4 he had had in the rest of his 17 years of existence combined. He had regained some function in his body and mind over the past few hours, not nearly enough to be able to have an intelligent conversation with anyone, but just enough to be able to feel basic, primal emotions. One of those emotions - anger - was able to roam around through his body without the opposition of restraint. He was furious about everything, everything that had happened to him, everything that was currently happening to him, and everything he knew would happen to him in the near future, almost as soon as he went home. He felt so helpless, so powerless, something that after a decade of karate training, he never thought he'd ever feel again.

Time dragged by, Marcos wishing it could slow down even more than it already was. Every minute passed meant that he was another minute closer to having to go home and be at the hands of his asshole father. Seconds ticked by as Marcos stared at his watch from the corner of the room, sighing as he realized that he couldn't hide here any longer and he had to go.

Groaning slightly as he stood up, thankfully Marcos found that he was now sober enough to at least be able to walk and get around, even if his decision making was severely compromised in his state. He stumbled through the house, trying to make his way towards the door, when all of a sudden he found himself staring at the ground, having fallen flat on his face in a heap.

For a moment, Marcos figured that he had fallen over his own feet in his unfocused state. It was only when he felt someone fall down right beside him that he realized that he realized that he had tripped over someone else. Or rather, little did he realize that he had actually walked right into someone else. As Marcos looked at them as they fell to the ground beside him, all he needed to see was a flash of turquoise hair to realize exactly who had fallen beside him. Both boys shot to their feet and found themselves standing face to face.

Immediately, the two boys could smell the alcohol on the other's breath. Of everyone at the party, they had by far drank the most, as they had the most to drink about, the most they wanted to forget or relieve themselves off. Neither were in a sound state of mind whatsoever, they weren't even close to it, and as the Miyagi-Dos watched them from a distance, concern filled all of their faces. Even fully sober, these two together were a ticking bomb, ready to explode at any moment. In an intoxicated state… God help them all.

"What the hell, man?!" Marcos snapped. Hawk scowled deeply at him.

"Me?! Watch where you're fucking going! You just walked into me!" Hawk spat back. "Fucking moron! Honestly!"

"Hey, watch yourself." Marcos snarled, taking a step closer to Hawk so the two were mere inches away, his drunken state elevating his fury one hundred-fold. Hawk, however, was unfazed by the sheer menace in Marcos' voice and even took a step forward himself to match him.

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it?" He growled. For a moment, Marcos mind left the confrontation. It fled, all the way back to the night before, when his father had just walked in on him looking at the child abuse number on his computer…

"Dad… Dad please." Marcos stammered as he stumbled backwards, trying to get away from his father, who slowly prowled towards him like a lion at the end of a hunt. He knew that his prey was in his clutches. He was just waiting for the right moment to pounce.

The smell of anger, fear and obscene amounts of alcohol filled the air as Marcos tried to get away from his father, unsuccessfully doing so. Because before he could make it to his bedroom door, Marcos' dad finally pounced. In the moment, you couldn't have possibly predicted that he had even had a sip of alcohol. After decades of working construction, the man was STRONG, even after his many drinks. He threw Marcos like a ragdoll, grabbing him by his shirt, into the wall.

CRASH!

Marcos went flying into the wall headfirst, his nose smacking against the corner of the wall. It was a miracle his nose hadn't broken right there and he hadn't heard a sickening CRACK. Although, when he moved his hand to clutch his throbbing face, he came away from it with a crimson-stained hand. His nose was indeed dripping blood down his face and onto his white shirt.

The immense blow had stunned Marcos and caused waves of agonizing pain to rip through his body. It took everything he had to keep standing upright and stare at his dad, who was approaching him with a stoic expression on his face. Marcos prayed that this was the end. That his father would see the blood and decide that this was enough for today. Unfortunately, no such luck.

Marcos' father had him in his crosshairs, knowing full well that after the nasty knock that Marcos had taken, he could in no way fight back. Not that he probably would've, even without the shove beforehand. Because as his father approached him, just like every other time his father had approached him in the past few days, Marcos froze up. He was caught like a deer in headlights, and his body refused to respond to his mind's screaming instructions to run or fight back. He was rendered motionless, a stationary target for his father to begin teeing off on him with an endless combination of ruthless punches.

Strike to the head… THUD!

Strike to the solar plexus… THUD!

Strike to the kidneys… THUD!

Strike to the head again… THUD!

Each blow was loaded with menace. This wasn't just the attacks of a drunk, abusive man who was frustrated about his loveless life. These were the razor-precise strikes of a trained Martial Artist. Marcos lost count of how many blows his father had landed as the excruciating pain became so overwhelming that he had sunk to the ground, his back to the corner of the room, his eyes closed and praying that this nightmare would soon end.

"Dad! Stop! Please!" Marcos cried out as his father unleashed a hook so vicious that Marcos was left dazed and seeing stars. "You can't do this, dad! I'm your son! You can't do this!"

Marcos was on his knees, knocked down by the sheer power of the last blow, and his father stared daggers as he looked down at him. He then chuckled mirthlessly at his son, kneeling down to his level so he was at eye level of the fallen teenager.

"Oh yeah? I can't do this?" Marcos' father remarked. "What are you going to do about it?"

24 hours later and the exact same phrase was being said to Marcos for the second time.

"What are you going to do about it?" Hawk remarked, knowing full well that Marcos wasn't going to pick a fight with him. After all, the Cobra Kai student was drunk, it was late at night, he was deep within enemy territory, surrounded by Miyagi-Dos. That's at least how Hawk saw it from his perspective. He had no idea about the terrors running through Marcos' head. He had no idea the deep scars that had been embedded deep within the Cobra, the trauma that was causing severe mental unbalance within him. So before Hawk could do anything to react or defend himself, Marcos struck like a Cobra…

Nobody saw the strike coming. Not only because of the context, but because Marcos hadn't telegraphed the strike in any way. He hadn't lifted an arm or a leg, but instead used his head to headbutt his opponent as hard as he could, sending Hawk stumbling backwards with a loud CRACK!

As Hawk clutched his head in pain, his scowl grew deeper as his hand curled into his fists and he began to charge at his opponent once more.

"You're going to regret that." He snarled, trying to lunge at the Cobra, but before he could do so, he found someone blocking his path. Or rather, two people. Miguel and Robby both stood between Hawk and Marcos, trying to create a barricade that the two jousting teenagers could not break through.

"I'm going to regret it?" Marcos laughed mirthlessly, his harsh, cold tone proving very similar to his father's. "Prove it. Time and place. I guarantee that I'll be there. More than happy for it to be right here, right now."

Hawk slowly shook his head.

"No. Not now. Not tonight. We've both had a lot to drink. I don't want there to be any excuses when I kick your ass." Hawk shot back, still seething at Marcos.

"Keep telling yourself that, buddy. Maybe someone in this room will eventually believe that could happen." Marcos responded. "And fine. Not tonight. Works for me. I get to be sober when I beat the living daylights out of you. I'm sure I'll enjoy the moment even more."

"Tomorrow. Just the two of us. I'll send you the time and location." Hawk replied. Marcos stared down at Hawk for a moment, the two boys locking eyes as Marcos silently deliberated the challenge.

"Guys, this is a bad idea." Robby remarked.

"Yeah, why don't you both go home? Get some sleep? I'm sure things will be a lot calmer in the morning." Miguel added.

After an eternity, Marcos finally moved once more. However, it wasn't towards the door like Miguel suggested. His legs didn't move at all. Instead, it was his hands that slowly reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone.

"What's your phone number?" Marcos asked him. Hawk grinned widely. The fight was on. He gave Marcos his number, and he sent Hawk a message with his contact details. "There. You have my number. Send me a time and location for tomorrow. Just the two of us. No weapons. I'm there."

With that, Marcos turned to walk out the door, although he didn't get much further than a few feet outside. Almost as soon as he stepped outside, the adrenaline began to wear off and all of the alcohol and exhaustion caught up with him. He wasn't able to stop himself from passing out, falling unconscious right there on the front porch of Moon's house, with half of Miyagi-Do still there inside…