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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
"all on her own"
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(aftermath pt. 1)

HER SHOULDER BURNED. 

 She wasn't supposed to even have it out of the brace. Four weeks - that's what the doctor said. But four weeks was just how long it would take her limb to be free again. Then, she would have to - quote unquote - take it easy. 

 Juliana Monroe didn't take things easy. 

She could feel the burn in both her chest and her shoulder as she threw another punch forward, then another. The hot air was pressing down on her shoulders, making her forehead grow slick with sweat. Her hair used to be too long to leave untied while training, but the day after she got out of the hospital she had taken a pair of scissors and cut her raven locks down to her shoulders. She was tired of having things getting in the way.

 Nothing would get her way anymore. 

 "Come on!" Shira's tired voice shouted from the doorway, but Jules kept her gaze trained forward. She kicked her leg out, spinning around and punching forward, gritting her teeth together to keep from grunting in pain. "You're not supposed to be straining your shoulder Ahava, come inside."

 When Jules didn't answer, Shira rolled her eyes. "Come on!" She repeated, harsher this time, and Jules turned to look at her with an annoyed scowl. 

 "It doesn't even hurt," she lied, clenching her jaw. "I shouldn't have to wear that damn thing anyway."

 "First of all," Shira stepped away from the doorway and walked over to where Jules was standing. She rested a hand on her uninjured shoulder and leaned down to look at her with concern evident in her dark eyes. "I know that isn't true. Second, you have to get ready for school. We should have left ten minutes ago, and now-" she ran a thumb over her forehead and pulled a face, "you're all sweaty." 

 "Ma, you can't make me go to school," Jules ran a hand through her short hair with a huff, feeling her stomach turn inside out at the thought of going back there. "I can't. I can't go back there without Miguel."

 For a brief moment, Jules saw a flash of emotion cross over her mothers face, and then she felt stupid. Still, she knew that her words were true. She hadn't seen Miguel since his mind descended into a coma, and she felt as if she was going insane. She couldn't even cry anymore; the sensation felt foreign to her body. She tried to convince herself that Miguel would be okay, but the fucking hospital assholes wouldn't even let her see him.

"We could climb in through a window," she blurted out, following Shira inside and feeling the cool air conditioning make goosebumps rise on her arms. Shira bit her lip as she tossed the girl her backpack, and then a hairbrush. 

 "Of the hospital? Are you secretly Spider-Man?"

 Jules rolled her eyes, "they won't let me see him because we're not family," she spoke though clenched teeth. "How stupid is that? They should let me see him, right, Ma?"

Shira turned, tossing Jules a small ring of keys. "You're driving today." 

 Instantly, a whining edge laced her tone. "No, Ma - I hate driving." 

 "You're sixteen, Jules!" Shira exclaimed, walking past her and holding the door open as Jules slung the bag over her shoulder. "Your birthday is less than a week away, and I want you to be able to get your license so I'm not driving you around your whole life." 

 "Sam could drive me," she muttered under her breath, holding her keys so tightly in her palm that they indented the surface of the skin. "Driving is stupid, I can just walk everywhere." 

 "Well I guess your cardio health is going to skyrocket," Shira mused sarcastically, Jules shooting her an annoyed look as she stalked out of the door. She honestly wasn't sure if she could handle going back to school - it was her first chance since the suspension that came with the fight. Shira had to grab her and pulled her back to fit the brace around the upper part of her right arm. Great - another reason for people to notice her.

 Jules wasn't used to being ostracized. She knew the feeling, though, and it made her think of  their World War 2 unit in history class.

 Fine, it was a stupid comparison, but it was the only one the girl could think of. When they learn about the Holocaust, about all of the Jewish people that were murdered, all eyed drifted to her spot in the back of the classroom. As the only Jew in her class (and possibly in the whole Valley, besides her mother) the stares made Jules feel as if she could disappear. It was one of the only instances in which she wouldn't straighten up and tell them to fuck off... because, well, she knew that she couldn't get them to look away. 

 She wasn't comparing the brutal massacre of Jewish people to a fight at school  - god, how idiotic do you think she is? What she was saying was that being gawked at for something you couldn't control didn't feel good, and she didn't look forward to experiencing it again... especially without Miguel. 

 Miguel - the boy who said that his favorite color was that of her eyes. The boy who took her to a fancy event as their first date just so that they could spray pretentious old people with water guns. Miguel, who managed to look at her sharp edges and bruised knuckles and see a girl who he could love... no, a girl who he did love. 

 And now, all Jules could do was drive their old car to school in a jerky and unkept manner, her death grip on the wheel perhaps being the only thing keeping her sane. Miguel was one of the good ones, yet he was the one who ended up getting hurt so badly he couldn't open his eyes. 

 She inhaled deeply as she stared out at the brightly lit streets of Reseda, and felt the reflection of the pavement burn her eyes as she blinked for a moment and found herself uttering a prayer. 

 "God, why couldn't it have been me instead?"

 ***

 SAMANTHA LARUSSO SWORE that she wouldn't let herself get distracted. 

 She hadn't seen her best friend in two weeks. It was nearly unbearable - and made the girl chuckle when she thought about how they had once drifted apart for two years. Sam, in all honesty, knew that it was her fault for the girl's lack of communication... why, you may ask? It was because she was scared. 

 She had no idea the length that Tory would go through to get to Jules - to hurt Jules. Sam may have ended up with a gash on her arms and a cracked rib, but she knew that staring her best friend in the eye would only reflect just how much of a coward she is for not wanting to face school again.

 But it wasn't hard to spot Jules, everyone was looking at her.

Her icy blue eyes were so hardened that at first Sam didn't even realize that she cut all of her hair off. It fell to her shoulders now, brushing against the fair skin of her neck as she stalked through the halls. The haircut seemed to have sharpened all lines on her face, making her seem even more intimidating than she did before. 

 And trust her, she was plenty intimidatimg before.

Sam raised a hand, the small action tugging at her stitches and sending an unpleasant sensation up her arm. "Lia!" 

 Jules turned around, and goosebumps rose on Sam's arm from the intensity of her gaze. She knew what Jules was doing, it was quite obvious to anyone who knew her on a personal level. If you keep a brave face up, no one will dare approach you. 

 The raven-haired girl seemed to relax, practically jogging over to Sam and wrapping her arms around her tightly. This was surprising all on its own, but not unwelcome. As they pulled away, Sam noticed that the light smell of sweat was intermingled with the coconut of her conditioner, and she shot the girl a look. "You were training this morning." 

 Jules immediately rolled her head back at the accusation, a disbelieving sigh passing her lips. "Wow, Sam, right to the formalities I see." 

 Sam shot her a look as the two began to walk closer to their homeroom class. "I'm just saying," she pressed, holding onto her bag with the jaws of life. She wanted to shrink as the eyes of students gathering on either side of the hall zeroed in on them. "I don't know how you can even think about karate. After-"  

 Her voice died at the expression that seeped onto Jules' face. Her jaw clicked as she gritted her teeth together. "I'm fine." 

 "I never said you weren't." 

 "Hey, Monroe!" 

 Sam felt like her body was going to drop to the ground at any moment. It was Hawk - or, Eli - Moskowitz who spoke, and his eyes were zeroed in on the girl long before she turned around. Sam reached out to try and grab her hand, maybe that way they could get to their first class without something bad happening, but Jules was already walking towards the red-haired boy before she got the chance. The brace clasped over her upper arm was unnoticeable compared to the seething glare on her face, and Sam hurried after her. 

 Arms crossed, Jules glowered at Hawk. "What the hell do you want, runt?"

"How's the shoulder?" He drawled, and Jules' eyes flashed. Sam noticed that she still had the ghost of a bruise over her nose, small cuts that hadn't fully healed yet cutting through her cheek like a shooting star might cut through the night sky. 

 Jules didn't even answer at first, instead keeping her gaze pinned on the boy. Sam knew that he was growing uncomfortable (he had to be, Jules's glare was terrifying), as he glanced over at the boy next to him. Mitch. 

 Then, she spoke. Her words were abnormally calm, as she slowly ran a hand through her short hair. "Great," she smiled then - but it didn't reach her eyes. "How's your back? I'm glad they got rid of that trophy case, it was an eyesore." She reached forward and poked his cheek, a patronizing edge to her grin. "I'll make sure to thank Demetri." 

 They stared each other down, but when Mitch looked at Sam, she averted her gaze. She wanted to be as brave as Jules, but right now all she could focus on was getting her far away from Hawk. Reaching forward, she tugged at the small, woven bracelet on her wrist. "C'mon, let's just get out of here." 

 "Listen to your girlfriend, Monroe," Hawk snorted, "I bet she's all you have now. You know, since Miguel's in the hospital." 

 Any calm demeanor Jules had was gone. She lunged forward, grabbing onto the front of Hawk's shirt and pulling him harshly forward. "You don't say his name!" She shouted, the rough yell making Sam and Hawk alike grimace deeply. Jules tightened her grip, her steely eyes narrowing. "You think you're the good guy here, Eli? You think that Cobra Kai will be Miguel's saving grace?" She let him go and seemed to be resisting the urge to spit in his face. "Without that bullshit brainwashing, this never would have happened." 

 Hawk took a step forward in an effort to maintain his dignity. The height difference was laughable, but Jules just angled her chin upwards and stared him in the eye. Sam honestly thought that Jules seemed taller than the boy, just due to the rolls of anger wafting off of her and making her seem... dangerous. "Was I the one who fought Tory," he leaned down, "this was your fault, Monroe." 

 Before Sam could reach out, Jules had reared her fist back and brought it forward. But instead of the obnoxious crunching of bone, all Sam heard was an airy laugh as her fist was caught in mid air. Pulling the girl close to his chest, shaking her slightly, Demetri grinned at the girl. "Jules! What's up, pyscho, I thought you'd be asleep at this early hour." 

 Jules' gaze didn't waver, but a smile did hint at her lips. "'Sup, dork, I thought you'd still be binging Doctor Who at this early hour."

Hawk sneered when the boys made eye-contact, "Demetri."

 Surprisingly, he seemed unfazed. Sam watched in interest how Demetri's arm rested nonchalantly against Jules' shoulder... almost as if he was protecting her. No - Sam shook her head - the thought was foolish. Sam had seen what Jules could do, and Demetri could barely land a hit without sweat beading on his forehead. 

 Still, Jules did need someone to protect her. Someone who counteracted her sharp edges.  Someone like Demetri. 

 Or Miguel. 

 "Don't think security can protect your scrawny ass," the boy with the mohawk said, and Jules turned to share a look with Demetri. The taller boy leaned forward, over Jules's shoulder. 

 "I don't need it too."

 Right now, this exact moment, was the perfect image of what happened in the time that Sam and Jules weren't friends. Demetri: a boy who seemed to be the exact opposite as Jules, had stepped in and became her best friend. Someone who may not be able to protect her, but would stay by her side through anything.

 But as they say, jealously is a stupid emotion. 

 Counselor Blatt's high pitched voice cut into the picture, making Hawk take a half step back. "Is everything okay here?" 

 "Oh yeah," Demetri drawled, jokingly saluting the three boys in front of him. "We're all pals here, right fellas?" 

 But Jules and Hawk were still glowering at each other. Wordlessly, the girl stepped away from Demetri and stalked forward, forcefully hitting their shoulders together as she did. Sam had to dodge around Bert to follow. When she caught up, Jules was muttering Yiddish curse words under her breath, hitting her fingers against her thigh at a rapid pace. 

 "Hey," Sam exhaled sharply, "Hawk is an idiot, okay? You just have to ignore him." 

 Jules didn't respond, her hand having rested onto the railing of the stairs. Sam desperately wished she could see through her eyes at that moment, watching as she winced and recoiled; as if having been burned. When the LaRusso girl looked around, all she could see was the remnants of the fight. They had all been disposed of, but Sam could still hear the yelling, still see the blood running down Jules's face, still hear the cracking of Miguel's back as it hit that very railing.

 She couldn't even imagine what Jules felt. 

 The raven-haired girl bowed her head. Screwing her eyes shut for a moment. Her hair fell over her face like a curtain, but Jules could still make out the pained expression on her face as she spoke. "You know they won't even let me see him?" She looked over at Sam, and the brunette realized with a shock that her face was turning red. "My boyfriend almost died and they won't even let me see him." 

 Sam reached forward and placed a hand on her arm, right under the metal confines of her brace. "I'm sorry." 

 "Everyone's sorry," Jules averted her gaze, and when she exhaled, it was shaky. "Everyone is so sorry about the poor boy who nearly died. Everyone sits and imagines how his poor girlfriend must feel, but only some of them know that she was the reason it happened in the first place." 

 Sam punched her uninjured arm. Softly, just enough pressure to gain her attention. "You can't say that, Lia." She reprimanded, her face stern. "That was Tory's fault, not yours. You didn't start that fight, you didn't kick him over the rails. That was Tory, and R-" 

 His name caught in her throat, but Jules knew. She stared at her right hand, as if trying to remember the bruises that swelled on the pale skin after the fight. When she looked up at Sam, her eyes were still glazed over with a shield that had been built up after one too many years of struggle. 

 "Who was she after?" 

 ***

"YOU KNOW, KIDNAPPING is illegal." 

 Jules didn't even look at the car that had slowed to a crawl next to her. She had glanced over when it first slowed, relaxing when the familiar face of Johnny Lawrence gazed back at her. He seemed beat up - like he had run through a window with his face. 

 Rolling his eyes, the boy tapped the side of the truck. "Why the hell aren't you in class, delinquent?" 

 "Why aren't you in rehab, beer-face?" She turned to face the window as the car stopped, noticing an unfamiliar man's face peering back at her. Jules pulled a face, "who's your chauffeur?" 

 "Doesn't matter. Why aren't you in school?" 

 The truth? She didn't want to do something she'd regret. After the debacle with Hawk, Jules had heard girls giggling at her from a safe corner, and suddenly felt the great urge to run over and kick their teeth in. Instead, she peeled away from Sam (who was watching her like a hawk) and ran directly off of school property. She had no idea where she was going, she figured she would hide out in an old cafe until the school hour was over. That should give her enough time to think of a realistic lie to tell her mother. 

 "Cramps," she lied, thinking that the man wouldn't press her about that. Unfortunately, Johnny wasn't the type to get fazed by the idea of periods, as he just rolled his eyes. "Liar." 

 "How do you know?" She demanded, gently hitting the side of the truck. "Are you tracking my period?" 

 "Gross."

 "Where the hell are you going anyway?" Jules eyed the man driving. "Is this a prison transport vehicle?" 

 "No it's not a -" Johnny groaned in annoyance. "We're going to the hospital." 

 The words should have made hope blossom in her chest, but she just rolled her eyes. "They won't let you see him. You're not family."

 "I'll find a way." Johnny partially leaned out of the window, fixating her with a knowing look. "Are you coming or what? I don't want you wandering around by yourself, especially with that bad shoulder." 

 Jules hesitated. For one: getting into a car with Johnny Lawrence - even one he wasn't driving - was never a good idea. Two: she didn't want to get her hopes up again, only to have them crushed at her feet... but on the other hand, any chance to see Miguel was a good one. 

 So she muttered something incoherent under her breath, before reaching forward to duck into the back seat of the old pickup truck.