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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
"operation: two idiots break into
a hospital"
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(aftermath pt. 2)

"DO YOU THINK I could say I'm his cousin or something?" 

Johnny didn't even hesitate, his gaze not breaking from the glass doors of the hospital. "No, you're way too pale." 

 Jules pulled a face, crossing her arms defensively. "Fine, Sherlock Holmes, what's your bright idea?" 

 The man didn't look too good, the natural sunlights only accentuating his injuries. He was unshaven, and had a black eye rimming his left socket, scrapes on his face as if he had been in another fight. Jules knew better to say something, some things were better left unsaid. He didn't answer, he just began walking into the tall building, giving Jules no choice but to follow. 

 She had a plan set in mind: she would say her shoulder was hurt, then she'd slip out of her room and find Miguel. Or, she would just try to slip past the clerk without her noticing... how hard could that be? It's not like the woman had eyes on the back of her head. 

 She kind of looked like she did, though.

 "I'm gonna distract the old bat," Johnny began, running a hand over his beard. "And you slip through the door. Got it?" 

 "Got it," Jules cracked her knuckles. "I'm stealthy as hell." 

 "That's not true at all, but whatever-" Johnny made his way up to the front desk. Jules hung back, slipping into a chair to try and blend in. She hated the hospital - she hated everything about it. The sterile scent that resided in the air made her eyes water, and the very aura of the place made phantom pain spread up her limbs. She refused to think about that, as her gaze drifted over to Johnny just in time to see him gesture with his fingers. 

 She jumped up, crossing the room in two long strides. She tried to open the door to the ICU as little as possible, and the edge of the door hit her chest and made her curse as she slipped through. She waited a second, her heart thrumming in her chest, before she exhaled. Holy shit - did that actually just work? 

 She practically ran down the hall, peering through every door that she passed. It wasn't until she was near the end of the hallway that she found what she was looking for. 

 But she wasn't alone. 

 Soft voices intermingled with the beeping of machines, Jules freezing as she made out the figures of Miguel's mother and grandmother, both leaning over the bed and speaking in soft voices. She must have made a strangled sound in the back of her throat, as Carmen turned around. Her eyes widened when they made contact with Jules', and the girl felt as if she might burst into tears. 

 Thankfully, she didn't. Instead, she tried to choke out an excuse, "I - I, um-" 

 Her eyes drifted past Carmen, and for the first time in two weeks, she saw Miguel. 

 His eyes were shut, his face seeming surprisingly peaceful as his neck and bare chest were fitted into a bulky brace. His hair had seemingly gotten longer, and a strand of it fell over his eyes as his chest rose and fell with breaths. 

 Jules felt a pain in her chest so intense it made her hunch over. She felt a wave of disorientation roll over her, dulling her senses and amplifying her breaths in her head. She could hear the roar of blood rushing through her veins, her gaze pinned onto Miguel's face with such intensity she thought she could will him to wake up. She didn't realize that Carmen had approached her, until she felt her hand on her shoulder. 

 Jules jumped, jerking back to reality. She put a hand to her chest, feeling her heart beat beneath her fingertips as she sucked in a few deep breaths. "I - I just wanted to see him," she managed, feeling those annoying tears fill her eyes. She wouldn't cry, she refused to. Instead, she just looked over at Carmen and tried to ignore how her eyes were nearly identical to the ones she fell in love with. "I'm sorry." 

 "Oh my." Jules thought that Carmen would yell at her, or tell the nurse that she wasn't supposed to be there. Instead, she dusted a soft hand over her cheekbone, where she knew there was an angry red scar decorating the flesh. "Look at your hair, where'd it all go?" 

 Jules was floored. She once again expected the worst - eyes drawn to her brace or her bruising... instead, the woman spoke of - of her hair? 

 "It looks beautiful," Carmen smiled through her tears, running a thumb over Jules's cheek. "I'm sure he'll love it- but he was always going on and on about how pretty your hair was in braids..." Carmen chuckled, bowing her head. "I think he thought you were beautiful no matter what. He could go on your hours about you, that boy. About how brave you were, about how he had never seen eyes the color of yours... I don't think a day went by where he didn't make a comment about something Jules had done that day at the dinner table." 

 A pesky tear slipped down Jules' face, and Carmen swiftly wiped it away. Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms tightly around the woman's torso, her shoulders shaking from the effort it took to not burst into sobs. That was the second time that day she hugged someone without prompt, and it felt foreign. 

 That didn't mean it felt bad. 

 "Come, come talk to him-" Carmen ushered her inside, where Jules felt her gaze once again pinned to Miguel's soft face. "He'd want to hear from you." 

 "Can- can he-?" 

 Carmen nodded, as if reading her thoughts. "He can." 

 Yaya patted Jules's arm as the girl stared down at the boy. She gestured her head towards the door, and only then did Jules notice that there wasn't a nurse in this room. The two women stepped outside into the hallway, not before the older woman whispered a, "Él estaba enamorado de ella, ¿verdad?" 

 "Yes, Mama." 

 And then it was quiet.

Jules didn't know what to do. She stared down at his face, feeling her own grow wet from the tears that traced down it; slinging past the curves of her cheeks and dripping down her chin. She wiped her face, since she didn't want Miguel to hear the weight in her voice, and pressed her hand onto the cool steel of the bed. 

 For a moment, she just stared at him. Took in the color in his cheeks and the rise of his breathing. Once she was certain that he was alive, she reached forward and cupped his cheek with her hand. 

 "Oh Diaz," She muttered softly, swallowing. "I am so sorry this happened to you." 

 The silence was beginning to make her ears ring. She didn't know what to say... but nevertheless, continued. "I cut my hair," she said, kneeling down so she could feel the heat radiating off his body. "It was getting annoying anyway. But I did it myself so it isn't very neat." 

 She didn't say the truth. That she chopped off her hair so that it wouldn't be used as leverage against her... to grab and tug and use to pull her down stairs. Forcing the memory from her head, she gently ran a thumb over Miguel's cheek. 

 "Um, I'm not supposed to keep training," she pursed her lips as a hint of normacly returned to her voice. "But I am anyway, 'cause fuck the authority, yanno?" 

 Another deep breath. 

 "Um... I don't even know if you can hear me," she gently ran a hand through his hair. "But I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I couldn't keep the situation under control... I'm sorry that you got hurt because of how big of a bitch I am," she sniffled. "But you're gonna be okay. You have to be okay. And I know that it's selfish of me, but I don't give a shit Diaz, because without you I don't know what I'll do. And I swore I would never become someone who needs to have a boyfriend, but you're so much more than that. You're like... my soulmate, I guess. God-" she cringed, "I sound like an idiot. Thank god you're the only one who can hear me. And if you can, you never bring up the fact that I used the word 'soulmate' in a sentence." 

  She leaned down to kiss his forehead, the soft skin seeming to burn under her lips. She tried to imagine his thoughts - his pain - flooding through her system. She imagined being able to heal him, seeing the tears in his muscles, the shatters in his bones and the severed end of his nerves. She imagined piecing them together, one piece at a time, until he was whole again. 

  But then she imagined herself chipping away. Her bones crumbling and her blood just barely sustaining her broken form. She imagined that the more she put Miguel's broken pieces together, the more hers fell apart and scattered to the wind. 

 She wondered if it was worth it... she wondered if he would feel what she did.

 But her thoughts fell apart when a new form stood in the doorway. She could sense hi presence, knowing that it was Johnny from the heavy way he breathed. She didn't look away from Miguel, her hand still resting on his hair, as she addressed her Sensei. "He's alive, Sensei." She said, her voice barely above a whisper. "He's so strong." 

 "He always was, the little nerd," Johnny smiled fondly at the boy, patting Jules' shoulder once as he stood next to her. He leaned forward slightly, speaking to Miguel as if the thought that he couldn't hear the words never crossed his mind. "Hey, buddy. Sorry I haven't been here. Your mom hasn't wanted me around... can't blame her."

 Jules felt a pang of sympathy in her gut. She thought about Carmen and where she may be now; praying that she wouldn't walk in and see Johnny. 

 But the man continued speaking, almost as if Jules wasn't there. "I thought I was helping you," he admitted, his head drifting to the side. "You were learning so fast, getting so strong."

 There was a pregnant pause, before he spoke again. "But I failed you." 

 Jules turned to look at him. His silvery eyes were gleaming, as if he was holding back tears, and the girl could feel her heart beat quicken with the effort it took to keep hers inside. Johnny Lawrence - the man who tossed her into a pool, who taught her how to kick, who (in an odd way) had grown to be special to her. He thought he failed Miguel. 

 "Don't listen to him, Diaz," she muttered, "old man's gone insane. He didn't fail you, he tried to help you." She could feel Johnny's confused eyes on the back of her neck, and she inhaled as she ran a soothing hang through Miguel's hair. "I only joined because of you, you know." She uttered with a laugh, "because I thought you were cute. You were good, Miguel, the best. Which is why you're going to wake up, and you're going to be the best again. Because we work together, remember? It's been us since the beginning."  

 She glanced at Johnny, "it's been us since the beginning."

 He smiled, and just like that; an unspoken occurrence passed through them. One that had formed, but had never been voiced. They may give each other a hard time, but that's what you do to people who you know are better than what they say. Jules may be a fighty bitch, Johnny may be detached from his conscience... but they made each other better. Built each other up.

 "You have the strength to get through this," Johnny said. "You just gotta keep fighting."

 Jules believed the words with every ounce of her being, and she found herself nodding. "Never give up," she repeated, sniffling to herself and taking in the peaceful expression on Miguel's face. "You fight for me, got it, dork? Because there's no way I'm going back to that school without you." She leaned forward to kiss his forehead again, mumbling against the skin, "you can beat this." 

 "Excuse me?" 

 Jules jumped. A nurse stood in the doorway, her eyebrows raised as she took in the sight. Jules suddenly remembered that she wasn't supposed to even be in the ICU, and her cheeks flushed red. "Only family is allowed in here." 

The interruption made a pang of anger resonate through Jules' stomach. She stepped away from Miguel and shot the nurse a hard look, crossing her arms. "Who made that rule anyway?" She demanded, her lips curling into a sneer. "I'd like to see proof. Because I-" 

 "We were just leaving," Johnny but in, gently pushing Jules's shoulder to get her to walk. She did so reluctantly, the heels of her boots clicking against the tile as she did. At the last second, she turned around to catch one last glimpse of Miguel's face. 

 You can beat this. She thought again, and with that image in the threshold of her mind, she turned and walked back down the hall. 

 ***

 RUTHLESS. 

 That's how she felt. She felt as if she could fight a whole army without breaking a sweat. Her heart was pounding, her bare arms gleaming from the effort it took as she relentlessly punched at the air. Her shoulder was burning, the brace discarded on the ground. Still, the pain was barely there. Jules could imagine that she was back at the school, Tory in front of her; fists bared. 

 But this time, Jules ended it first.

 Whether it be a kick that knocked her consciousness away, or a punch that sent her over the railing a minute sooner. If she had been quick enough to end it sooner, then Miguel would be okay. So she was making sure that she didn't make the same mistake twice. 

 Her movements were oddly graceful. Kicks and ducks, dancing around an invisibly opponent that wouldn't stand a chance. Her hair flew around her shoulders, tied back by a black headband that only barely managed to keep sweat from her eyes. Another kick, and her long leg extended above her head, the fabric of her shorts doing an exceptional job at not restricting her movement. It was early in the morning, before school; training early had become a habit. Her mother hated it, but it kept Jules sane. 

 She wished that she had someone to spar with. She was tempted to ask Sam, but she wouldn't even speak in relation to karate anymore. Before, she would spar with Hawk, or Aisha (god she missed Aisha), or any poor schmuck in Cobra Kai who dared test her. After her leaving the dojo, she had Robby...

 Robby. 

 His name made the blood in her veins grow unbearably hot. She could envision his foot hitting Miguel's chest, sending him over the edge, and it made her angry enough to punch a hole in her bedroom wall. He was a ghost now, lost to the winds, but Jules knew it was for the better. If she saw him, even for a second... 

 Robby Keene was lucky that he was on the run. 

 A door flew open, and Jules half-rolled her eyes. She had gotten used to her mother's comments about her new routine, and she was nervous that she was going to have to answer to leaving school early and breaking into a hotel wing. Instead, Shira ran over and gripped her arms with enough intensity to hold her in place. "It's Miguel." 

 Jules' heart skipped a beat, "I know, and I'm sorry. But the hospital wouldn't let me see him, and Sensei was-" 

 "What?" Shira pulled a face, but seemed too preoccupied to care too much. "No, honey it's Miguel." 

 She smiled then, so wide that it made Jules' nerves settle. And the next words she spoke made Jules's eyes widen to the point that it was painful. 

 "He's awake." 

A/N:

YEE HAW MOTHERFUCKERS!

i can't wait omg it says a lot that i updated twice in two days because i NEVER DO THAT AND WJHDUHJEHDUEGHJ

sorry i had a stroke. i'm just so in love with migliana or whatever the fuck their ship name is. also i am so excited to give tory some serious depth in this part, bc i have so many huge plans for tory and jules coming up. but first, it's all ab her and miguel and IT! IS! THE! BEST!

tell me all of your ideas i wanna hear every single one!!! i will rant with y'all istg i'm so excited

anyway, i love you all! thanks for reading, and i'll see you soon <2