Lined up in the middle of the dojo with Hawk and Aisha staring them down intently, Chris and Mitch fiddled with their fingers, eyes averted to the floor under their sharp gazes. Cristina truly didn't understand why her friends gave the new requits so much grief. Didn't they themselves remember how Johnny had treated them - specifically Hawk - when they first joined, and how much they hated it?

She found it bizarre, how Hawk could stand there and come up with condescending names for the two boys when he himself had run crying out of the dojo when Johnny pointed out the scar on his lip in front of everyone. Unbothered as usual, Declan stood by his friends just so he wouldn't need to be alone, arm draped around Cristina's shoulders.

"What do you think?" asked Hawk, fingers resting on his lips to make it seem he was deep in thought. "Shithead one and shithead two?" he suggested, eyes flickering between his friends to get their reaction.

Declan rolled his eyes. "How creative."

"I was thinking more Mary-Kate and Asshat," Aisha said, smiling triumphantly when Hawk began chuckling.

Fed up with their bullshit, Cristina piped up. "Just a crazy thought - what if we called them by their names?" she pointed at each of the boys individually, eyes widened in irritation. "This is Chris - shouldn't be too hard to remember for you both since it's practically my name too. And then this is Mitch. It might be a bit of a challenge, but if you try just a little, you should get it right eventually."

Hawk scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest. "You're no fun," he remarked, his face scrunched up into a glare.

Cristina laughed humorlessly. "And you're an asshole." she shot back, ramming her shoulder into his with enough force for him to lose his balance and stumble back. He caught himself before he could plummet to the floor, and Cristina slammed the door to the bathroom closed, struggling to contain her anger.

Awkwardly, Chris and Mitch slipped away from the group, thankful to get away before the nicknames could be fully decided. 

"Jesus," Hawk said after a moment of silence, staring after Cristina in befuddlement. "What's got her in such a bad mood?"

Narrowing his eyes into thin slits, Declan tilted his head. "It might have something to do with the stick you've got up your ass." when Hawk snapped his head around to glare at him, Declan simply shrugged his shoulders and smirked. "Not sure though."

ʚїɞ

Blue and green blended together, staining the white linen of the canvas and creating a flurry of colors that resembled nothing at all. Despite the throbbing ache in her muscles, Cristina didn't let go of the pain brush, not even when she was certain her fingers would remain in a claw like grip even after the wooden tool was put down. Her knuckles turned white, pressure on the brush increasing with each aggressive swipe of color.

Paint splattered, staining all that was in its path. Hours of work got destroyed. The calculated lines on some sketches spread out across the floor blurred together as the watery paints hit the paper. Buckles formed, the paper forming small dents as the lead smudged into nothingness. Cristina's eyes, reflecting the setting sun in the brown depths, flickered to the floor briefly, annoyance washing over her.

Butterflies and sports cars, hats from the mall, and a particularly pretty rock she'd found on the hike she took with Sam when they hung out. All sketches she'd spent hours perfecting, now ruined by the anger flourishing within her.

Cristina hated it, how it seemed she couldn't control what she was feeling anymore. How she snapped at every little thing and cried when there was no need for tears and laughed even though the joke hadn't been all that funny. Before, it had been easier. Before she could suppress it - at least until she got home. Then she could break down, safe behind the four walls that were her room. Painting would be involved, always precise and immaculate. Everything was different now. And Cristina despised it.

She snapped at Hawk in front of everyone, over something that wasn't even that deep. Though she supposed she saw herself in Chris and Mitch, and how they got messed with just because they happened to be there. For her friends, it seemed to be a joke, trying to act like Johnny had to them before. Cristina didn't find it funny. Just as she hadn't found it funny when Johnny was rude and insulted her friends.

 Cristina wasn't sure when, but at some point, Theodore had cracked open the door to her bedroom. He stood there now, leaning against the door frame, observing as she worked and waiting for the moment she would notice him. It felt rude to say something. What if he interrupted something, messed with her flow, and therefore ruined the painting altogether? He needn't worry for long, though, as she turned to grab her white felt tip pen off her desk.

Startled by his presence, Cristina barely caught her paints before she could drop them to the floor and stain her carpet with the red paint she'd just applied to her palette. She placed a hand above her heart, thankful for her apron as she accidentally pressed her paint-filled brush against her chest, sprawling sea green color on it.

"Jesus, Teddy," she said, catching her breath while her heart calmed.

Sheepishly, Theodore smiled, scratching at the back of his head awkwardly. "Sorry, Cris. I- I would've said something, but I, uh, didn't want to interrupt you. Not when you looked so immersed in your painting."

Cristina cracked a smile, moving to wipe off her paintbrush on a nearby towel that was stained behind recognition. "That's not something you should worry about, Teddy. I always have time for you," she assured him and slipped the somewhat clean brush behind her ear for the time being. Clasping her hands together and resting them in front of her, Cristina tilted her head, the anger she'd previously felt still noticeable in her eyes despite her greatest effort to hide it. "Did you need something?"

"Are you alright, Cristina?"

He took her by surprise with his question. It wasn't what she'd been expecting. She swallowed harshly when a lump formed in her throat, hoping to conceal her feelings. But Theodore could see the strain in her expression. How her lips quivered and her teeth chewed at her bottom lip. At her sides, her fingers fiddled with nothing but air.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Cristina asked him, voice thick with the emotions she'd tried so hard to work through when painting. Tears brimmed her eyes, and she blinked them away.

Theodore pushed off the door frame, his eyebrows knitted together in concern. "You don't seem like yourself lately," he replied earnestly, arms coming to fold across his chest. "You're locked in here most of the time, painting into the odd hours of the night, and it's been weeks since I saw Demetri and Eli-"

"Hawk." she corrected him sharply. Pursing her lips, she averted her gaze to the floor. "He goes by Hawk now."

The silence that ensued lasted no more than a few moments before it was broken when a sob racked through Cristina's body. Her shoulders began to shake and her hands trembled as she lifted them to cover her face. Trapping her bottom lip between her teeth, she muffled her cries.

Without a moment of hesitation, Theodore crossed the room and pulled her into his arms, burying her face into his chest as he muttered soothingly. Her hands fisted his shirt, and Theodore couldn't care less that she stained it with tears and makeup. All he cared about was her, and that she was alright.

"He doesn't like me." Cristina managed out.

"Who?" Theodore wondered, taking a small step back so he would be able to see her face.

Sniffling, Cristina replied, embarrassed by her blotchy skin and puffy eyes. "Eli. Or Hawk, I guess." her fingers entangled themselves into her hair, knocking the paintbrush to the floor with a clatter. "God, I'm so stupid!"

Theodore shook his head, stopping her pacing before it could even begin. His hands gripped her shoulders and he lowered himself to her level of height. "Don't say that."

"Why not?" Cristina queried, her voice a lot sharper than intended. "It's true." she shook herself free from his grasp and walked to her painting, staring at it while she spoke. "I was stupid to think he could ever like me. No one ever will, because I am not good enough."

Her words were no longer her own, Theodore realized. They fell from her lips in a tone so unlike her, so robot-like and so empty of emotion. Almost as though they'd been drilled into her head long enough that she'd forced herself to believe them. It wasn't hard to guess who it could've been to convince her of such a thing.

"You are good enough, Cristina," Theodore said with enough genuity in his voice for Cristina's eyes to well up with tears for a second time.

She spun on her heels, staring at him with hopelessness etched into her exhausted expression. "Then why don't I believe it?"

Theodore didn't get a chance to reply, as she'd already turned her back to him once again. A clean paintbrush was grasped between her fingers, raised to resume the chaos that was her painting. Red specks of paint splattered over the blue.

"I just want to be alone right now, Teddy." Cristina finally said with a soft sigh. Her eyes met his over her shoulder, and she mustered up what she hoped to be a smile. "I'll be down in a while," she promised.

And all Theodore could do was nod. He couldn't push her to talk about what she was feeling, not when it was about her mother. It was a topic she rarely discussed, one she refused to bring up unless it accidentally slipped through in the heat of the moment.

He closed the door behind him as he left, and Cristina could finally breathe again. She took a moment to compose herself, and then she gathered her hair and tied it into a bun at the nape of her neck. The tip of her paintbrush hit the canvas, and she was once again unmoveable, immersed in her thoughts as she painted away.

ʚїɞ

Cement splattered when Cristina dug the shovel into the rusted wheelbarrow. Declan recoiled as though he'd been shot, a spect of grey coating his eyebrow. He paused his task of hosing water into the mixture, raising his arm to wipe the cement of his face with the back of his gloved hand.

"Are you trying to blind me?" he snapped, piercing blue eyes glaring holes into the side of Cristina's head.

The skin on Cristina's palms had begun to harden from how hard she was gripping the wooden shaft. She grunted, the scorching sun taunting them with an unbearable warmth as they worked. Sweat trickled down her forehead, stopping at her brows and adding moisture to the hair stuck to her skin.

"Would you stop whining?" Cristina shot back, her brows knitted in frustration as she tipped the shovel over, continuing to poorly mix the cement.

When Aisha used a knife to cut a hole in a bag of powdered cement, dust rose as it fell into the wheelbarrow. It engulfed them in a cloud of brown dust particles. They integrated with the air around them, tickling their lungs as they breathed it in.

Coughing until they were gasping for breath, the trio almost tumbled over. The wheelbarrow tilted as they gripped it to stabilize themselves. Cristina managed to keep it upright before it could tip and spill the cement on the ground. Her eyes were brimmed with tears as she took a final breath that scratched at her throat, the coughing subsiding.

"Warn us next time, please, Aisha," Declan begged, swallowing twice. His voice rasped, so he cleared his throat and raised the hose to spray water into the mixture.

"Sorry," Aisha said apologetically as she sheepishly placed a hand over the hole cut into the bag, keeping the powder at bay for now.

Punished for messing about during the previous day's karate lesson, the teens were put into groups of three or four with the grueling task of mixing cement by hand. Cristina guessed the punishment had something to do with the old man who had been an observer the day before, his piercing stare sweeping over them every now and then while they worked.

Mr. Kreese, as Johnny had said his name was, stood to the side, hands clasped behind his back. Johnny maneuvered through the groups, yelling insults as he bossed them around mercilessly. He argued with Miguel and Hawk for a moment before standing next to Mr. Kreese, chatting much to quietly for Cristina to hear what they said.

She was in the middle of turning her shovel upside down, figuring the wooden shaft part of it would be somewhat of a better tool for mixing when a car horn blew through the air. Gravel crackled under the tires as a huge cement truck rolled into the parking lot. Her jaw dropped, mouth agape, an expression of utter perplexity forming on her face.

A man clad in an orange shirt and a neon yellow vest stepped out of the car, meeting Johnny halfway as he twirled the keys around his pointer finger. They shook hands, Johnny accepting the out-held keys and pocketing them as he thanked the man.

Suddenly, catching sight of the curious teenagers huddled together in dusted clothes and cement-covered gloves, the man Johnny addressed as Cutter paled visibly, expression dropping as he stared. He swallowed nervously, eyes flickering between the Sensei and his students.

"You didn't say nothing about no kids, Johnny."

"Do you want your bar tab paid off or not?" asked the blonde man, arms thrown out at his sides exasperatedly.

Seeming to overweight his options, the man nodded slowly and then pointed a finger at Johnny's chest. "You get caught, you take the heat," Cutter said, bidding his farewell and disappearing down the street.

Cristina leaned closer to Declan, the shovel long forgotten on the ground at their feet. "What the hell is he planning?" she asked despite knowing that his guess was as good as hers.

Shaking his head, Declan let a sigh pass his lips. "Knowing Johnny - nothing good."

ʚїɞ

"You want us to do what?!" Cristina asked in bewilderment, eyes widened and her hands falling at her sides.

Johnny replied almost casually, as though there was nothing wrong or borderline idiotic with his demand. "Climb into the truck and make the cement spin."

Murmurs of worry and concern arose from the teens, some sharing uncertain glances, eyes flickering between their friends and the truck. This ask was something that could go wrong in a matter of seconds, something Johnny had either not considered at all, or simply didn't care about.

The fumes could damage their lungs and throats, and as far as Cristina knew, cement wasn't something you'd want to come in contact with without proper safety precautions such as gloves and, perhaps, in this situation, a hazmat suit.

"Sensei, we're sorry for messing around," Aisha said, hoping that he would come to his senses if he knew they regretted it.

"We learned our lesson," Hawk added.

Johnny was having none of it and Mr. Kreese seemed to be enjoying the chaos of the situation as he stood leaning against the truck. Their Sensei flipped the ladder down with a loud clatter, slamming his hand against the side of it.

"Get in!" 

Yet no one moved, and Cristina couldn't blame them.

Who would willingly get into a cement truck, knowing that there was a possibility that they could get stuck, or worse, get buried in the thick cement and die?

"Sensei, this seems kind of dangerous," Miguel stated the obvious. Narrowed eyes, and knitted eyebrows, he stared at the truck. "I mean, the fumes alone-"

"Quiet!"

Cristina jumped at the unexpected yell, tumbling right into Hawk, who caught her arm before she could get a taste of the sand at their feet. She muttered a quiet "thanks" and smiled awkwardly before slipping away and hiding behind Declan as her cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

Stepping away from the truck, Mr. Kreese addressed them all. And no one dared to utter a single word as he did so. His voice carried a kind of authority Cristina had only seen on TV when Professor McGonagall spoke with her students. It made her trap her lip between her teeth, gnawing on it anxiously as she listened to Mr. Kreese insult them.

"This man led you to the mountain top, and you question him?" ridden with disgust, Kreese's eyes flickered over them all, and Cristina had never felt smaller than she did then and there, cowering into Declan's side to hide from view. "Look at you. Look at all of you. I can't believe this pathetic pack of pussies competed in the All Valley, and let alone won."

Miguel's expression hardened, though Cristina didn't know if it was because he was being blatantly denigrated along with his friends or if the determination had set in.

"It's an absolute miracle!" Kreese laughed. "And who's responsible for that miracle? Johnny Lawrence," he answered his own question, gesturing back to their Sensei who seemed to be hesitant to intervene. "The best student in the history of Cobra Kai. My student."

It made sense, really. That Kreese had been a Sensei. It's why he knew exactly what to say to rile them up, to get them to do what he wanted.

"You were Sensei's Sensei?" Hawk asked, the corners of his lips curved into an amazed smile.

When Kreese laughed again, this time a bit more genuine than the last, the hairs on the back of Cristina's neck rose. She didn't like it. The sound of his laugh. Something about it made a shiver run down her back. And judging by the look on Miguel and Declan's faces, she wasn't the only skeptical one.

"You better believe it, kid," Kreese said, looking back at Johnny for a brief moment. "And I tell you I've never trained a tougher student in my whole life. So, if you know what's good for you, you better listen to every goddamn word he says."

A silence ensued, one filled with tension. The students weighed their options, unsure murmurs rising. Some were a lot more uncertain than others.

Cristina clenched her jaw, her hands balling into fists. A voice in the back of her head echoed, taunting her and telling her that there was no way in hell she'd ever step foot in that cement truck. She wasn't brave enough. It drove her to step forward, inclined to prove it wrong.

Her hand raised, something she came to regret almost instantly when everyone stared at her. But she couldn't back down. Not now. Not when she'd already made up her mind.

"I'll do it," Cristina said, holding her head up high despite the overwhelming urge to duck away and flee.

Miguel followed her lead swiftly, his determination evident in his expression. "Me too."

Johnny nodded at them, patting their backs when they passed him by.

The ladder was steep, steps thin enough for Cristina to slip on the very second one. Her foot crashed down, her knee hitting the metal hard. Suppressing a hiss, Cristina ignored how her skin worked up a bruise, continuing up the ladder even though it ached horribly.

Miguel waited until she'd climbed into the cylinder part of the truck, her shoes sinking through the cement and ruining them forever before he followed her up the ladder. It was slippery and Cristina almost fell face-first into the thick mixture. The walls were coated in cement too, making it impossible to grab them for support.

When Miguel's added weight entered the truck, it swayed. Cristina's eyes widened, and before she knew it, she'd slipped, her hand grabbing Miguel's as a last resort. They both tumbled, falling over each other and sinking through the wet cement. Cristina groaned, her back hitting the bottom. Miguel landed on top of her, mumbling an apology as he grimaced.

Outside they could hear Declan and Johnny arguing.

"What, do you have a medical problem or something?" Johnny asked, staring down his most stubborn student.

Declan scoffed, gesturing to the truck. "No, but I'll surely get one if I go in there."

Chris, Mitch, and Hawk joined Cristina and Miguel inside the truck. Cristina offered a hand to them as they climbed inside, helping them stand without falling over. And with a bit of convincing and possible bribing, Declan came too.

Their hands grasped at the wall, slipping down and leaving finger trails in the cement. Cristina pushed with all her might, her legs slipping behind her. No matter how hard they tried, it wouldn't budge.

"It's no use." Declan was ready to give up within the first few minutes.

"We can do it." Cristina insisted, the burning desire to prove herself only growing stronger with each passing moment. "We just have to push together." she flicked her hair out of her face, glancing at her teammates. "Come on, guys. All at once."

They put their hands on the wall, nodding once they were ready. And after sucking in a deep breath, they began pushing. Groans echoed and the cement splashed as they stepped through it. But eventually, when they were about to give up, the truck moved.

Cristina cheered, only pushing harder when Johnny yelled for them to increase the speed. They were basically on all fours by now, crawling forward. Cement seeped through their clothes, slipping up their shirts. But they continued anyway.

Until they ultimately fell over when they could no longer keep up, laughing hysterically as they tumbled around.

ʚїɞ

Despite having been hosed down by Johnny, Cristina seemed to have cement stuck everywhere. Her clothes had gone stiff, moving uncomfortably as she climbed into the driver's seat of Declan's car. The engine sputtered when she turned the key in the ignition, roaring to life after a second try.

On the drive home, Cristina began planning what she would eat. She was starving, having skipped breakfast before they left in the morning, and now it was well after lunchtime. Theodore wasn't home, and Declan had opted to hang out with Aisha after karate. She was all alone for the afternoon, which meant she could order in without anyone knowing. Not that they would care. But they would force her to share her leftovers.

Passing by the outskirts of town, Cristina caught sight of Robby walking by the side of the road. A duffel bag was slung over his shoulder, his skateboard held under his arm. His hair was wet, sticking to his forehead as the sun slowly but surely dried it.

Cristina rolled the window down and slowed the car, honking to catch his attention. When he jumped, having been too caught up in his thoughts to hear her, she giggled, covering her mouth with her hand as she watched him catch his breath.

"Need a ride?" she asked with a grin.

Robby smiled. "Sure."

He climbed into the passenger seat, fastening his seatbelt. Cristina grabbed his back, chucking it into the backseat before he could stuff it down by his feet. It landed on the seats, his stuff clattering around inside it.

Cristina grimaced. "I hope there's nothing valuable in there," she said, an apologetic smile tugging at her lips.

Chuckling, Robby waved her off. "There's not. Just a water bottle and my gym clothes." his eyes bore into the side of her head as she drove, eyebrows knitting together. "Is that cement?" Robby asked, pointing at her ear.

Cristina pursed her lips as she nodded. "Yup." before he could open his mouth, she spoke again. "Let's just say, karate was... something." tapping her fingers against the steering wheel, she smiled at him before turning her attention back to the road. "Where am I headed?"

The further she drove, the more Robby's mood seemed to dampen. His smile disappeared, the amusement in his expression fading into sadness. He didn't speak. Not until she slowed the car down and stopped outside his apartment building.

Before he could exit the car and grumble out a thanks, Cristina locked the door. Robby looked at her in confusion, a single eyebrow raised.

She grabbed his hand, eyes flooded with concern. "Are you okay, Robby?"

"M'fine, Tina." he shook her off, trying to persuade her. But it was a weak attempt.

"What's going on." Cristina prodded, the sincerity in her expression making him sigh softly.

He hesitated before speaking, his cheeks flushing pink in embarrassment. "My mom, she, uh, took off. Missed some bills, I suppose." Robby said quietly, refusing to meet her eyes. "But it's fine. She'll be back soon... I think."

She couldn't stop him this time. All she could do was watch as he left the car, mustering up a smile as he thanked her. Cristina waited until he'd disappeared into the building before she pulled out her phone, dialing the first number she could think of.

"Cristina, hi." Sam picked up instantly, cheerful voice greeting her.

Furrowing her brows, Cristina stared at the door Robby had walked through. "What do you know about Robby's living situation?"

»»-———𝓑𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽———-««

A/N

Not sure I'm happy with this one, it's a bit forced at the end. But at least we got some Theodore and Cristina! And I am utterly in love with Declan and the way he has Cristina's back at all times. And, of course, when he tests Johnny's patience.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, my loves! Hopefully, I'll be done with the next one soon!

-Jazz