While Daniel and Johnny discuss the situation with Kreese, Robby is left alone with an injured Miguel. Robby's POV, third person limited.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Karate Kid or Cobra Kai. I'm not making money from this. I'm just a fan.

Chapter Three:

The Enemy of My Enemy

Robby paces the floor, practicing his breathing exercises as he tries not to look in Miguel's direction. He'd give anything to be hidden away with Sam in her room right now, but of course his dad had to go and ask him for a favor. And as much as he doesn't care about Miguel, or what his dad wants from him, Robby's staying largely because Mr. LaRusso gave him the go-ahead.

So now Robby's stuck looking after the jerk.

In with your nose. Out with your mouth. In with your nose. Out with your mouth.

Yeah, that's not gonna cut it right now.

Robby's eyes shift to Miguel on the sofa, who smells like cheap beer and blood. He looks worse than he smells. There's a split second of satisfaction in seeing his cutthroat rival defeated. Robby has to admit it feels good to see how much better shape he's in – Miguel's way scrawnier than he'd looked in his gi at the All Valley.

But that second is short, because Miguel shifts and just beneath those visible ribs is a black and blue expanse across his lower back, right at the kidneys. Robby winces. The eye and ribs look bad enough, but that, well, that probably deserves a hospital visit.

Yeah, Miguel's a bully who drunkenly hit Sam, snapped his arm, targeted his injured shoulder, and nearly disabled him all to win a local kid's karate tournament, but Robby wouldn't wish this on his worst enemy. Which, all things considered, Miguel probably is.

"Need anything?" Robby asks uncomfortably.

Miguel somehow manages to glare fairly threateningly despite the fact his eye is swollen shut. "Not from you."

"Right." Robby huffs in frustration and leaves the room. He comes back with Advil and three frozen vegan meals that he's wrapped in hand towels (Amanda's a real health nut even if she never cooks), and hands the meals over.

Miguel nods without saying thank you. He presses one to his face, one to his lower back, and one to his crotch. Robby grimaces at that last one as Miguel lets out a deep sigh of relief.

He props himself up on the arm rest of the sofa near Miguel's feet and hunches his shoulders, trying to figure out what to say. He wonders what his dad is telling Mr. LaRusso right now.

Miguel is shifting around, and Robby is very deliberately not looking at him. It turns out he doesn't have to say anything because Miguel speaks first.

"Your phone."

"What?"

"Can I borrow your phone?" he asks through clenched teeth. "I must've left mine at the dojo."

Robby nods. He opens the screen with his touch ID and tosses the phone to Miguel, who catches it one hand. No way he's giving out his password. He's been involved in too many cons to make a dumb move like that.

"Mama," Miguel says, and slips into Spanish.

Robby took up to Spanish Three before dropping out, but he can't make out much of the conversation, Miguel's speaking so fast. He hears sensei and dormir (sleep, a word he knows) and assumes he must be telling her he's staying the night at his dad's.

Robby tells himself he doesn't care how often Miguel stays at his dad's but that' a lie. His dad always managed to forget the weekends he had custody.

Miguel's voice is sweet and affectionate. He's forcing himself to sound cheery despite his miserable condition, and even though he's talking to his mom, Robby didn't expect him to sound so…nice. Miguel hangs up with a te amo and tosses back the phone, grimacing at even that little bit of motion.

Robby must be staring because Miguel narrows his eyes at him. Or eye. "What? I don't want her to worry."

And that's another thing Miguel's got that he hasn't. Robby's mom wouldn't notice if he went missing for a week. He feels a flash of guilt for even thinking that, because at least she's nice when she is around. But it's true.

Miguel stares up at the ceiling and Robby stares down at his hightops. "So what happened?"

Miguel shrugs. "You heard. Kreese set the other Cobras on me after I twisted my ankle. There's not much more to it than that."

"That's messed up."

"It was supposed to teach me a lesson about fighting in the real world." He sounds defeated.

"Some lesson," Robby scoffs. "A lesson in what an abusive asshole Kreese is, more like it. I can't believe my dad let him do that to you."

Actually, that's a lie too. It was just like his dad not to step up when someone relied on him. He couldn't handle having a kid, so he just noped out when Robby needed him most. He let Robby's mom take him without a fight. Robby can't count the number of promises he's broken, the number of times he's looked for him in a crowd before he gave up. His dad's missed soccer games, his 8th grade graduation, the photo session before freshman formal… Whenever the man did bother to show up, he'd act like a buddy-buddy punch on the shoulder made up for all the times he'd ignored him. It's not surprising that now that he's found some replacement kid, he's failed him, too.

Even if his dad is finally trying, one day, he'll stop caring about him again. Robby wishes he could be like that – just stop caring whenever he wanted to. But no matter what his dad does, he still loves him. It doesn't make sense. They don't have anything in common. His dad's idea of "bonding" is drinking shitty beer and watching action movies that were corny when they were released thirty years ago. The man's a macho, deadbeat loser stuck in the '80s, who still thinks nothing tops a Farah Fawcett haircut and it's totally okay to use black as a noun.

And still, Robby hates Miguel for replacing him.

Miguel glowers. "Leave Sensei Lawrence out of it. He's been trying to get me to see straight for weeks, only I wasn't listening." He pauses, uncomfortable. "I thought Kreese was toughening me up, but it turns out, he's just kind of a messed up person."

Robby remembers Mr. LaRusso's words from the tournament. There is no such thing as a bad student. Only a bad teacher. And your father had the worst…

He hadn't been exaggerating. Robby can see for himself what a horrible influence that man is. Four days ago, when Robby'd stopped by, he was stuck cleaning up vomit off his dad's toilet bowl and putting the old man to bed.

Robby wonders, not for the first time, what would have happened if his dad had been taken under Mr. Miyagi's wing instead of Kreese's. Robby thinks about how he's changed this past year under Mr. LaRusso's tutelage. He used to be so angry all the time. So angry that he couldn't think straight, like nothing else existed but his rage. All he cared about was getting back at his dad. In retrospect, even hanging out with those thugs and dropping out of school and stealing was some convoluted attempt at getting back at his dad. But it never worked. Afterwards, he'd felt empty and guilty, and it never gave him the satisfaction he'd been hoping for.

Robby hadn't even known he'd been walking around with so much hate inside until he discovered moments where it was gone, where its absence literally changed his body. The tension he constantly held in his gut eased up, and he realized he was always getting cavities because he had a habit of grinding his teeth when he was overwhelmed. He wouldn't have recognized his own stress if Mr. LaRusso hadn't taught him to clear his mind.

Mr. LaRusso had taught him to understand things he'd never noticed before. Hippie stuff, like listening to the sound of the songbirds and taking in the scent of the trees and finding a place of quiet when everything around you was stressing you out and pressing you in. Maybe it was cheesy, but it worked.

His dad sure as hell could use some of that zen, but he was too much of a dick to give it credence.

"His methods are obviously unhelpful." Miguel gestures to his injuries. "Not that I couldn't take it."

"I couldn't take it," Robby admits with a shrug. He doesn't need to prove anything to Miguel.

The corner of Miguel's lip curls up in a cocky grin. Robby doesn't know what Sam saw in him, or that asshole Kyler, either. Miguel's back to wincing in a second, though. Robby uncaps the bottle of Advil he'd forgotten on the coffee table and hands Miguel six.

"Thanks." And for a moment Robby's pleasantly surprised until –

"But don't think this settles things between us. You stole my girl."

"Yeah, well, you stole my dad."

It comes out before he can stop it. He hates how immature he sounds, and he knows better. Robby used to think balance was about evening the score. It's not. It's about finding peace inside yourself despite the score. But just because Robby knows better now, doesn't mean it's easy to change old habits.

"I didn't even know he had a kid. You and sensei – that has nothing to do with me. I'm not exactly happy about the situation, either."

It was a fair point. He can admit what Miguel is saying is rational, but his feelings are anything but. So Robby changes the subject.

"Just so you know, Sam never cheated on you."

"Sure." Miguel practically snarls. "That's why she ghosted me and showed up to the party holding your hand. She was too ashamed of me to even tell her dad we were dating. And she didn't even let me apologize for accidentally hitting her. Which was an accident," he emphasizes, as if Robby were about to argue.

"She didn't text you for one day because she was grounded. And she felt guilty about not telling her family about you. She was about to apologize for that, but you never let her.

"The handholding, though, that was my doing. You're right. I was moving in on your girl. I told myself I was just being friendly when I knew I wasn't, and Sam was naive about it. That's on me."

"Damn right it's on you. But I guess you got what you wanted, didn't you? You guys have been kissing all over instagram for months. Don't think I don't know."

Robby rolls his eyes. There was one instagram kiss. And it was on the cheek.

He's liked Sam since the moment he saw her. There's an innocence about her – a girl who's never had to worry about being evicted, or whether her dad will remember her birthday, or what kind of man her mom's coming home with that night.

Sam's lived the sort of existence that Robby didn't even dream about, didn't think existed outside of dated sitcoms: loving, involved parents; a huge, comfy house; great grades; beautiful; funny and soft… He thinks somehow her sweet smiles and corny jokes can wash away the grime of his past. It's not even about Sam. He likes Sam, sure. But it's about more than Sam. It's about being a part of the LaRusso family.

Miguel snaps him back to the present.

"Whatever, it doesn't matter anymore. I've got bigger fish to fry."

"Looks like we all do," Robby says with a sigh.

"Kreese has nothing to do with you."

"Um…he basically abused my dad and tried to kill him when he was our age. He stole my dad's dojo and bullied his students. Yeah, nothing to do with me at all."

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don't. Are you saying what happens to my dad shouldn't matter to me?"

"I'm saying you're not the one lying on your enemy's sofa beaten half to death."

"You're not my enemy."

He realizes its true the moment he says it. His anger toward Miguel is hard to let go. He tries when he prunes the bonsais, and sometimes it works. But it flares too, when his dad only mentions the boy's name.

But enemy? This isn't The Terminator. They're suburban sports rivals. He's thought enemy before, but he knows deep down it's more nuanced than that.

He wishes he hadn't had to see Miguel like this, broken physically and emotionally. He wishes he never had to hear him saying sweet things to his mom over the phone. He wishes Miguel would stay the ruthless bad guy at the tournament. Some vague, bullying figure in the background of his life that enough karate training could defeat.

It would be so much easier if Miguel were just a villain. Hell, it would be easier if his dad were just a villain. If life were that black and white, he wouldn't have to forgive, or empathize, or examine his part in things. But you can be a villain and a victim and a victor all at the same time. The All Valley Tournament proved that much to him last spring.

He sighs. "I doubt Mr. LaRusso will even let us get involved. He'll probably want to handle this himself. He gets pretty protective."

"Fuck that noise." Miguel sits up sharply. He groans, but he doesn't lie back down. There's a vigor in him that Robby respects.

"No one's keeping me from the fight," Miguel says, words muffled because his teeth are clenched in pain. "I've been so stupid to fall for Kreese's shit, but I'm done with it. We're going to give the old man what he deserves, and I'm going to be right at Sensei Lawrence's side."

Miguel makes a fist when he speaks, and he speaks forcefully. Even Robby feels empowered by it.

"Well, if you think I'm going to let Mr. LaRusso keep me out of the action," Robby says, "you're wrong about that. I'm right there with you. This is my fight too. We have to have my dad's back."

"Don't worry, I do."

"Me too."

There's a tense moment between them, and Robby can feel their rivalry shift into something almost like teamwork. You don't have to like the members of your team. You don't have to be friends. You just have to respect them. Trust them. He can't trust Miguel as far as he can throw him, but he can trust him with his dad.

"Look," says Robby, handing him an olive branch, "I'll keep you informed of anything I find out. We can't go about this blindly. We need to do this the right way."

Miguel nods, sharp and decisive. "All right. Same for me. I'll give you my number. I suppose I can admit you're not entirely evil," he adds dryly to ease the tension. Even if Robby can tell he's half serious.

"Thanks for the ringing endorsement."

Miguel snorts and it turns into a laugh. Robby laughs too. He starts texting Miguel's number with, Hey, it's your mortal enemy Robby. What's up? Even though it's not true anymore, if it ever was.

He still doesn't like the bastard, though.

o - o - o - o - o

TBC. If you enjoyed the read, please review! Constructive criticism is also welcome. Chapter Four, Empty Hands (Miguel's POV), is coming out next Wednesday!