CHAPTER 19

As Manuel barked out these orders, Miguel closed his eyes, letting himself take in all of this, doing exactly what his father asked and compiling all of the lowest moments of his entire life. And when he opened his eyes a second later, he was no longer staring at paint on a wall. He was staring at his doctor from last year when he had first woken up from his coma.

"STRIKE!" Manuel bellowed.

"I'm really sorry, Miguel. Even with the surgery, the chances of you ever walking again are very low."

As Miguel found himself feeling that very same feeling of helplessness he had felt all those months ago when he was lying in that hospital bed, Miguel let out a cry of anger and threw his fists at the throat. Sure enough, Manuel was right. This time, Miguel couldn't even feel the impact, but the BANG that it made as he hit the wall told him that this shot was even harder than the last one. Miguel blinked, and as soon as he did, when his eyes reopened, the person in front of him had changed. It wasn't his doctor anymore, it was Tory.

"COME ON! HARDER!" Manuel yelled.

"Did you really care about me? Or were you just going out with me to get Sam's attention?"

That whole love triangle… all of the pain, all of misery, all of the sleepless nights that it had caused him. The racking guilt he had felt about how he had treated Tory from the moment he had gotten out of the coma. And the frustration that no matter what he said, she didn't believe her! A tear rolled down Miguel's cheek as he let fly another flurry of punches, this time to the kidneys. He wasn't trying to hit her. It wasn't even her he was that furious at. It was almost like he was punching the emotions, the feelings of anguish he had felt during that situation. Each punch helped push the resurfaced emotions down a fraction, and so he kept on going and going and going until he managed to feel them disappear and at that point, the image once again changed. Now he found himself face to face with Johnny.

"GOOD! AGAIN!" Manuel shouted.

"I love you, Robby."

Miguel had to close his eyes for a moment as the pain temporarily became too much to bear. That emotional agony he had felt that night all came rushing back and Miguel was forced to take the full brunt of it once again. He wasn't Johnny's son. He just wasn't. No matter how much they did for each other, no matter how much they went through together, he just wouldn't be. Robby would. Johnny could say that he had his best interests at heart, but the bottom line was that just wasn't true. If he had his best interests at heart, he wouldn't have quit Miyagi-Do. He wouldn't have done any of the things he had done over the past few months that had made it abundantly clear that when it truly came down to it, when push came to shove, deep down, that wasn't the actual case. Because he wasn't Miguel's dad and he never would be.

Thud! Thud! Thud! The punches roughly slammed against the wall again, Miguel's knuckles nearly bleeding but him hardly feeling a thing. Once again, the wall then transformed into a different person: Robby.

"COME ON, MIGUEL! KEEP GOING!"

"You do remember what happened the last time we fought, right?"

This time, Miguel was filled with a brand new emotion: anger. He let that fury well up inside him, burning through his body like a raging inferno, he unleashed a heavy barrage of blows, a tsunami of strikes that took forever to cease. Miguel let the anger take over. He relished in the way it pumped through his veins, making his hands feel like they were made of steel as he sent punch after punch after punch after punch at the target. The tears were starting to fall now, just a few and not many, but he could faintly feel them splashing onto his arms. They weren't tears caused by the physical pain though. He couldn't even feel an ounce of what had caused his knuckles to bleed small droplets of crimson liquid. Miguel came out swinging.

Jaw. Throat. Kidney. Jaw. Kidney. Jaw. Throat. Back. Back. Groin. Knee. Back. Kidney. Back.

All of the explosive techniques melded into one ferocious combination. He was in the zone, completely oblivious to everything around him. All he saw was the smug son of a bitch who threw the cheap shot that had messed up his entire life. The ruthless beating only ceased when he stopped dead in his tracks moments later. The image had changed for what Miguel figured, what he hoped with all his might was the final time. He didn't know how much more of this emotional thrashing he could take before he physically collapsed and emotionally broke. It took a couple of seconds longer for the white wall to take another shape, and this time when it did, Miguel felt all of the blood in his body evaporate. He stood deathly still, his hands dropping beside him, as he found himself face to face with none other than his ex-girlfriend.

"If you don't come home with Juarez, our relationship is over…"

No, no, no. Not you. Please get out of here! GET OUT! Miguel screamed at her. He knew that she wasn't really there, she was just a figment of his subconscious, so that meant when he wanted her gone, she would leave, right? Unfortunately, he wasn't granted that luxury. That relief. He was forced to stare into the ocean-blue eyes of the girl less than 24 hours ago, he considered the most important person in his life.

"Well if I'm so important to you, why did you leave me?"

Miguel nearly leapt out of his skin in shock at hearing Sam's voice. All of the other people he had just seen didn't move or talk. He heard them saying whatever they said through a small voice in his head, and they stood there immobile and motionless as they took his punches. Sam, however, was different. She looked around the room before nodding at him.

"Hey, Miguel." She smiled.

"S-s-sam?" He stammered. "What the hell?"

"What? Surprised to see me talking to you? Figured I'd be back home, crying in bed or something, trying to get over you?"

"No, I…"

"By the way, what the hell are you still doing here anyways?" Sam remarked, head glancing around the room.

"Um… getting to know my dad. You know that." Miguel snapped. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"By punching a wall? By beating your knuckles bloody? That's some amazing family bonding."

"Stop, Sam." He murmured. Sam shrugged.

"No, seriously! Greeeeeaat stuff." She commented, before taking his hands in her own and lifting them so his hands were in his line of sight. "Look at yourself, Miguel! This isn't you! This isn't what you want!"

She was right. As Miguel looked at his knuckles, he realised that his bloody hands were the least of it. All he needed was a mirror to see how insane this whole thing was. While a small part of him thought that though, the vast majority believed otherwise, and he shook his head furiously at her.

"Sam, I'm here to get to know my dad. We talked about this. I want to be here!" Miguel exclaimed.

"No, you don't! You want to be at home with your family, with me, with everything and everyone you know. Not in this hellhole, learning how to fight from a maniac!" She declared. Miguel vehemently shook his head.

"No! No, you're wrong! You're wrong, Sam! I want to be here!"

"No, you don't, Miguel." Sam murmured quietly, her piercing eyes not angry, but instead full of sympathy. "And you know how I know? Because if you truly wanted to be here, I wouldn't be standing in front of you, telling you these things."

Miguel looked at her, confused.

"What?" He mumbled, at a complete loss. Sam took his hands in hers and smiled faintly at him.

"Miguel, I'm not here. You remember that, right?" She stated. "I'm just a figment of your imagination. Me being here, saying these things to you means that there's a small part of you, a small voice, deep down that believes them. A part of you wants to come home. Listen to it."

Miguel was looking down, staring at his feet as he took in this information. Was Sam (well, fake Sam) right? Did he really want to go home? While seeing all of the faces he had just seen had caused a rush of countless negative emotions to flow through him, it also made him miss everything so much more. He missed Sam. He missed Johnny. Hell, he even missed his rivalry with Robby a little. Beating Robby at the tournament had been the reason Miguel had gotten out of bed for the past 6 months. Well, even before that. Ever since the coma, getting payback on that son of a bitch fueled him to push himself harder first with his recovery, then with training for the tournament. It motivated him to come in half an hour early and leave an hour later in training. It encouraged him to eat well, sleep well, so he'd be in top fighting shape if he ever got to fight Robby again. Even thinking about the person he hated most in the world caused feelings of longing to be back rush through his body.

"Sam, I…" Miguel looked up at Sam, but his voice trailed off when he realised that she was gone. "Sam?"

Miguel's voice came at a voice no louder than a whisper as he reached out for her but realised she was gone. Long gone. All the way back in California in fact. He was alone here, away from everyone and everything he loved. The overload of emotions caused Miguel to stumble away from the wall, tears completely blurring his vision. He was wracked with heavy sobs as his whole body trembled. His father, noticing his son's breakdown, pulled Miguel into an embrace and whispered assurances into his ear.

"Shhh. It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay."

Manuel held his son for an eternity as Miguel hit emotional rock bottom, the silent crying shaking through his entire body. As Manuel hugged him when Miguel could no longer see his face, Manuel smiled. His son's reaction was a welcome one. It meant that everything was going great. What was that quote again? Someday, someone will break you so badly that you'll become unbreakable. Miguel had surely been broken enough, and now Manuel intended to be right beside his son as the boy truly became a heartless, unbreakable machine. After all… what would be a bigger slap in the face to his ex-wife than her own son walking in his footsteps and taking over the next chapter of his business?