Dedicated to @AbbyWatson4, @Robby2Keene, @NewYorkDoll, and @LOVESTODOODLE for their amazing feedback!

"Ahhhhhh," moaned Johnny as he rolled over in his worn twin-mattress.

Even though it only had only lasted a few weeks, he still missed waking up to the sight of Carmen's beautiful body sleeping next to him. She was always so peaceful, her hands delicate.

Their place really does smell better, doesn't it? I guess that's what cleaning is for.

They'd decided it would be best if they lived separately for the time being, at least until Miguel and Robby were on more "friendly" terms. Still, there was a tinge of longing that echoed from inside him, telling him to go to the woman he loved.

I just wish that day would come already. I mean, it's not like my feud with LaRusso or anything.

His nose started to sniff instinctively as he sat upright in bed, stretching his arms out, lazily.

The smell was vaguely familiar, almost as if a distant memory had been awoken with its presence. He pushed himself to his bare feet, pulling up his sweatpants as he yawned.

"I still can't believe Chozen kept LaRusso and I training until midnight. If anything, the kids should have stayed longer considering they have more to learn!" Johnny thought, agitatedly as he stepped into the living room, taking extra care to avoid the sharp nail sticking up from beneath the shabby carpet.

These thoughts quickly left his mind as he discovered that the smell was freshly fried sausage patties and omelets. It was quite possibly the only food his mother had known how to make when he was growing up. Johnny's stomach roared loudly as he watched the melted cheese ooze out of one of the folded omelet's open mouths. The thing that really mattered to Johnny though, was the person making it. Robby carefully flipped an omelet, outstretching his arm in order to allow the spactala to catch the incoming vessel. He looked to be wearing a clean set of jeans and a navy blue sweatshirt, his damp tousled hair falling slightly in front of his face. The once dark purple bruise around his eye was now a faded blue. Best of all, his face wore a sort of calm expression that Johnny hadn't seen on his son's face since they'd returned from Mexico.

I wonder if he finally made a move with that Nichols girl, yesterday. I know that sort of thing always cheered me up when I was younger.

"Where'd you learn these cooking lessons? Cause it definitely wasn't from me," joked Johnny as he dropped down onto one of the rickety dining chairs.

It took a few seconds for Robby to acknowledge Johnny had entered the room due to the blaring Queen music in his headphones.

"Oh, hey, dad," responded Robby, letting the headphones fall to the base of his neck as he plated the last of the breakfast food.

"What's all this?" asked Johnny through a mouthful of sausage.

"Nothing much. Just wanted to cook, I guess," answered Robby, vaguely as he sat down next to him.

"Nothing much actually, or is this one of those things kids do these days where nothing much could actually mean anything?"

Robby just looked at him, blankly.

Great, that's what I thought.

Johnny placed the palm of his hand against Robby's forehead, feeling for a temperature.

"What are you doing?" asked Robby, agitatedly.

"I'm checking your temperature. Isn't that what most parents do when their kids are acting strange?" thought Johnny aloud, removing his hand from his son's head.

"Just because I'm doing something nice, doesn't mean I'm acting strange," shrugged Robby, returning his attention to the food in front of him.

"I know. Can never be too sure, though," Johnny quickly responded.

Totally blew that one, Johnny.

"Are things with that Nichols girl going well?" asked Johnny, trying to revert the topic of conversation onto something that didn't involve him embarrassing himself.

"As well as you can expect when you up and ditch her for two weeks without any type of notice," replied Robby, honestly.

It was impossible to tell if he was worried or relieved from his plain expression.

"Yeah, from my experience, and trust me I have a lot of it, girls don't tend to like being ghosted. Or cheated on, for that matter. But if she didn't slap you, at least you still have a chance with her," commented Johnny before biting the tip off of one of his plate's juicy sausages.

Robby smirked, laughing slightly in the process.

I knew that I'd get him with that one.

"What about you? How are things with Mrs. Diaz?" asked Robby, making sure to avoid eye contact with his dad.

"Things are good. She and I have a date planned at this pub-style restaurant tomorrow," responded Johnny, struggling to make out full words through another bit of food.

He immediately regretted letting the words leave his mouth (which was most certainly not something Johnny usually thought).

Can't go five seconds without making this trainwreck about me.

"Hey, look, I didn't mean to..." started Johnny before he was abruptly cut off by Robby.

"It's okay, dad. Mrs. Diaz isn't as bad of a person as I thought. Plus, it's not like I really get a say in who you date," explained Robby, reassuringly.

Johnny nodded, a small smile crossing his face.

For the first time ever, they were having a casual, nice conversation together.

"Are you busy today?" asked Johnny, clearing the dishes from the table.

"Not really, why?" answered Robby, questioningly.

"Because there's been something I've been meaning to do with you since we got back from Mexico," explained Johnny.

Robby raised an eyebrow, skeptically.

"No, this isn't another Miguel-related trip to a foreign country," reassured Johnny, jokingly.

"Ok, that's fine," concluded Robby, agreeingly.

Of all the responses Johnny was expecting to get, ok definitely wasn't among them.

Kids will always find ways to surprise you, I guess.

"Ok, how about in a half an hour? Just so I can finish getting this mess cleaned up," suggested Johnny, gesturing towards the generous amount of dirty dishes in the sink.

"Works for me, but I swear, if this surprise of yours turns out to be another fake father-son trip, I'm never trusting you again," warned Robby, playfully as he dropped his dish into the sink before leaving the apartment.

Johnny just laughed, tossing the dish towel onto his slumped shoulder.

I knew if I gave him that little shove, he'd come to me.

Later that day, the two men drove to the Miyagi-Fang dojo. From the outside, it did look kinda like a metal box with four large windows.

A dojo is a dojo, no matter what the health department might say.

"You better not have gotten used to Silver's fancy stuff," stated Johnny as they exited the eagle-painted SUV to reveal the entrance.

"Those things are always going to feel fake to me," said Robby as he pushed open one of the large barn doors.

"Nowadays, I would agree," commented Johnny distractedly, as he picked up one of the loose tires off the floor.

Teenage me couldn't say the same. Then again, teenage me would have had to come up for air long enough to say anything in the first place.

The interior of the "dojo" looked tidy, the bow staves, tires, and other training tools placed neatly in their respective locations.

"Of course, he's been cleaning this place up," scoffed Johnny as he led his son to the back room of the dojo.

"By he, do you mean Miguel?" questioned Robby.

Would Miguel have preferred for their dojo to be clean, yes, but he'd known his Sensei far too long to be naive enough to believe that was even a possibility.

"Actually, I'm talking about LaRusso," responded Johnny, his eyes searching for his desired item.

I'm not about to lie to my son again. Especially if there's no reason for it.

"So you're working with Mr. LaRusso again. That's good to hear," said Robby, his voice holding steady, despite his obviously uncomfortable tone.

Johnny thought it best to leave that conversation at a close for the moment, considering he wasn't even sure how he felt about the situation, himself.

"There it is!" announced Johnny, smiling as he lifted up a flimsy cardboard box and placed it on a nearby snack table.

Clearly, the box's contents were old due to the soggy water spots that covered the outside of its worn exterior.

"What is that thing exactly?" Asked Robby, a look of confusion covering his face.

"This is something I want you to have," answered Johnny, proudly as he unveiled what lay within the box.

This is the moment to show him that I really do care about him, like I always should have.

He held in his hands a worn black karate gi. It had tinges of yellow accenting the neckline along with a circular fist symbol located near the upper chest portion. There was a very distinct smell of sweat and cologne wafting out from its folded layers.

Just how the boys and I liked it.

"I know this isn't much, especially compared to Silver's stupid sports' cars and running water or whaterever, but it's the most I got," admitted Johnny, honestly as he held up the gi for Robby to see. There were several patches stitched into the right leg of the gi, most representing the brands that had funded Cobra Kai in the 80s, aside from the back which sported Cobra Kai's iconic symbol.

Holding it in front of his face brought both regret and happiness to Johnny's face.

He turned over so he could see his son's expression. Robby was stunned speechless, his hands tucked into his pockets tightly.

Is this working or not?

"You don't have to take it if you don't want to," commented Johnny as he folded the gi back up.

The room just stood silent for several seconds before Robby pulled Johnny into a tight hug, his head placed on his father's muscular shoulder.

"Thank you," he whispered in Johnny's ear as tears fell down his face.

"I'm the one who should be thanking you. I love you, Robby," declared Johnny, quietly.

Despite not expecting a response, he knew in his bones that it was the right thing to say at that moment.

"I love you, too, dad," replied Robby, shutting his eyes tightly as both father and son embraced each other's warmth.