Cobra Kai had been split down the middle.

Flynn surveyed her peers. Half of them brandished the same red headband around her head while the others wore black. Her heart sank a little as she locked eyes with Miguel, the boy standing with the black team. Today had already been disappointing, but this was enough for the Wilder to officially peg this as a bad day.

"Gentlemen, ladies," Kreese prowled to the front, lifting his palms toward the air. "Welcome to Coyote Creek."

The old man strolled between the two teams as he explained the basis of today's training.

"You've been split into two teams. Red and black. The goal is to capture as many headbands as possible from the other side. Today, the people across from you are not your friends. They're not your brothers. They are the enemy."

Despite the sensation of eyes prickling her skin, Flynn kept her gaze on the forest floor. She could particularly feel the fierce glow from Tory's emerald gaze as the girl stood in front of her.

"The last team standing...wins."

"How do we get the headbands?" Miguel asked.

"By any means possible. No rules."

"Use your judgment. This is just a training exercise," Johnny cut in, not as invested in the activity. Flynn heard from Miguel about one of his childhood friends passing recently. That couldn't have been easy on him, especially since he had been a former Cobra.

"Correct. But remember, this is your life," Kreese waved the red headband in his grip at them. "You lose it...you die."

Overdramatic as always, Flynn thought with a mental roll of her eyes. Pretty soon this guy would be sending them off to the barracks.

"Hey guys! Sorry I'm late," a new voice intercepted. Chubs strode up to Miguel's flank with a confident glow.

Flynn clocked the differences in his appearance: new haircut, leather jacket, trimmed beard save for the elongated braid sticking out. Somebody was in the mood for a makeover. The Wilder girl couldn't believe his insistence on coming back everyday, standing amongst several children.

"Traffic on the 118 was a real bitch. Put Coyote Creek into the nav'. Nothing came up."

"What have you done to yourself?" Johnny examined him.

"Oh, the..." he gestured to himself with flailing arms. His fingers curled around the ends of his sunglasses, peeling them off. "Yeah, you know what? I just decided to flip the script, Hawk-style. Respect."

Despite the compliment, Hawk's nose turned up in a grimace.

"Heretofore, you can refer to me...as Stingray."

"Yeah, all right, Chubs. He's on your team," Johnny glanced at Kreese.

"Terrific," Kreese grumbled as Stingray moved to accept his red headband. Flynn didn't even care that he was joining her team, probably weakening their chances.

Truthfully, she didn't care about any of it right now.

The day passed slowly, sunlight creeping between the trees as late afternoon approached. Flynn had caught three black headbands, picking off some of the smaller and younger Cobras. She still had yet to find Miguel or Tory, something she appreciated.

But it had been almost twenty minutes since Flynn fought her last opponent, and she was getting frustrated. She'd also sworn she'd traversed past the same clump of trees for the third time.

"I'm about to be lost in these damn woods," she muttered to herself, prodding a rock with the foot of her sneaker.

A loud collection of cheers rang from her left, snapping her attention away from the ground. Her senses sharpened, falling against the tree line and snaking towards the commotion as quietly as possible. She managed to insert herself into a patch of undergrowth that concealed her as she found the source of the noise.

Miguel had just defeated Hawk, the Moskowitz crumpled on the forest floor. The red headband was raised triumphantly in Miguel's grip, his teammates applauding him. None of them donned any black headbands, which means that they were all out. Flynn couldn't help but notice Tory wasn't amongst them.

She also noticed the mean sneer pasted on Miguel's face, along with the glower in his amber eyes as he looked back at Hawk. Whatever had just transpired, it'd been personal.

Kreese knew this too. The old man managed to snag Miguel's eyes, mouthing something to him Flynn couldn't make out from her distance. Whatever it had been, it sent Miguel's leg sprawling into a spinning kick that connected with Hawk's jaw. The mohawk boy's body grew slack against the contact, unconscious before his head even hit the leaves below.

Flynn felt horror blossom in her chest, vision blurring with shock. Had Miguel just pummeled his friend into unconsciousness? The sight was enough to make her face tinge red with heat.

She could feel her sadness melding with anger. Kreese couldn't keep this up. It was turning all her friends into monsters. She had to do something, make a statement, prove a point. Let them see what was happening to all of them.

Miguel's glory didn't last long, however. To everyone's surprise, a lump of muscle emerged from a nearby pile of fallen leaves. Stingray lashed out with a yell, arms snaked around Miguel before he could counter attack.

"The red team wins!" Stingray called, a small patch of red team Cobras rejoicing him.

Miguel and Johnny drifted off to the side, the latter speaking to the boy with a disappointed expression. It became clear Johnny didn't approve of Miguel's decision to finish off Hawk, meaning he didn't approve of what Kreese had been teaching to them.

"Wait." A voice spoke up. "Where's Flynn and Tory?"

A pair of hands dug into Flynn's shoulders, dragging her out of her hiding spot with a crushing grasp. Flynn responded with a quick turn and shove, exhaling in surprise as Tory faced her.

"Thought you could miss out on the action?" The Nichols girl taunted, readying her fists with calculated eyes. "That's not like you at all, Wilder."

Flynn tried to conjure up a witty retort, only to come up dry with a scratchy throat. She rose her fists too, but the twinging in her gut made her realize a simple truth.

She didn't want to do this anymore. Not like this.

Tory sprang forward, aiming for the Wilder's stomach. Flynn blocked with a grunt, drawing back a few steps and watching her opponent's moves with wild eyes. Her arms moved in frantic arcs to guard herself from each attack, the girls exploding into a rhythm of blocks and strikes.

The crowd drew closer to them, enraptured with the ensuing fight. She could hear a few stray voices cheering on her or Tory, but they just became dead noise.

Especially when Tory's heel drove smack into the side of her ribcage. The force of her blow knocked the wind out of her, a soft puff of air escaping her lips. Even the Nichols reeled a few steps back, stunned by her own strength.

That's when Flynn came up with the worst idea she's ever had. The most self-destructive, too.

For the next few minutes, Flynn engaged in a calculated dance with the Nichols. She would block a hit or two before convincingly missing, allowing the blonde to slam right into her with a blow.

And Tory wasn't holding back, despite the realization drawing onto her face. "Why aren't you fighting back?" The green-eyed girl snapped at her under her breath, dashing forward again with another punch. "Fight me! Hit me! I know you can!"

Flynn let the girl's knuckles rear straight into her brow. She couldn't stop the cry that fell past her lips as searing white pain spread across her face, throbbing at the bone. Her legs wobbled with the impact, her vision losing its sharpness.

"Flynn! What are you doing?" Tory hissed. "I don't want to win like this."

The brunette responded with an abrupt lunge forward, smashing her own fist into the Nichols's shoulder. Tory gasped and fell back, palm reaching for the area she'd struck, only her green eyes shone with disappointment. The blow hadn't been hard, exactly as Flynn intended.

"Then stop fighting me and just take the damn headband. I'm giving it to you," Flynn bit out, pulling the cloth from her sweaty forehead. She held it out to the dirty blonde. "You don't have to fight for everything in life. At least not like this."

The girl's eyes lit up with recognition, anger blooming in her expression. "Fuck that! I said fight back, Flynn!" Tory snarled, sprinting forward again.

No.

Flynn let herself be pummeled. The toe of a sneaker to the shoulder, fists to the abdomen, a flat foot striking her center. The Wilder lost her footing after Tory sent another flawless kick to her battered stomach, feeling herself become airborne until she collided with the ground.

By now, the crowd had turned against Tory. Several voices screamed at her to stop, to just take the headband and accept the win. Flynn could've sworn she heard Miguel's voice the loudest, but her world had become spotted with black dots.

Tory looked at someone with a stony expression, probably Kreese. Flynn knew what was coming next.

But nothing could've prepared her for the feeling of Tory's shoe bouldering into the side of her face, smashing down on her cheekbone and whipping against the sore parts of her brow.

She could hear someone screaming. She saw Miguel's mouth latched open into a wide o shape, his eyes growing to the size of golf balls. It must be him screaming then, she thought.

Flynn could barely make out Tory ripping the headband off her. Her eyes watered uncontrollably as she used the last ounce of her strength to meet Kreese's gaze.

He knew what she had done. She just hoped it was enough.

Then Flynn was gone, taken by the darkness of sleep.

Everyone was gone by the time she stirred awake, save for Johnny and Aisha. The Robinson girl pressed a cold pack against the bruises blossoming the right side of her face. She managed a pained smile at Flynn as she gathered herself into a sitting position.

"Got yourself beat up pretty bad, huh?" Aisha's smile wavered.

"Yeah. Guess I was just really off today," Flynn huffed, taking the cold pack from her.

"Is that what that was?" Aisha asked. "'Cause that's not what I saw."

Johnny didn't let her answer. "What the hell was that, Wilder? You let her pummel the shit out of you. You gave up."

"I told you," Flynn groaned, unable to mask the wince on her face as she clambered to her feet. "It was an off day today. Not everybody can be perfect all the time."

"Bullshit. What the hell's the matter?" Johnny demanded, though his eyes softened when he saw her clutch the bottom of her ribcage. "Is it Kreese?"

"No. I'm telling you, I just sucked today. I'll make it up next time."

Johnny hesitated, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Fine. Whatever. Don't tell me. I'll never understand you teenage girls."

The man trudged off, seething. Despite everything, Flynn couldn't help the small smile on her lips. Even with the cuts and bruises that marked them.

"Where's Miguel?" Flynn asked Aisha before she could stop herself.

"He left with everyone else. He seemed kinda...upset."

"Shit," Flynn laughed, placing a hand on her hip.

"Listen, are you..." Aisha struggled, swiping her tongue over her lips. "Are you okay? Cause people that let themselves get beat up like that usually aren't."

"I'm fine, Aisha," she sighed, wiping the dirt off her hands. "I don't expect you to understand but, really. I am okay."

Aisha didn't argue further. Flynn was grateful for it as she left that damned forest.

Staring at her broken figure in the mirror, Flynn finally understood why Aisha had been giving her those looks. She looked like hell, with purple and blackened marks climbing up her body from her aching stomach to her tense face.

"What the fuck," Flynn murmured to her reflection, voice heavy with emotion. Had it really been worth it? Proving a point?

But she had proven a point. She might've been knocked out, but she heard the shouts of protest before she fell under. They had wanted Tory to stop. They knew she'd taken it too far.

The doorbell and several desperate knocks scared her away from her thoughts, body jerking in a flinch that only hurt her more. She lowered the hem of her shirt back down to cover her battered stomach, smoothing the fabric.

Something told her she had a pretty good feeling for who would be on the other side of that door.

It barely cracked open before tears pooled in Miguel's eyes. His face shattered at the sight of her, making her own eyes turn watery. "Hey Meeg."

"What the hell did you do?" His voice cracked. "Why did you let her do that?"

"I..." Flynn started, but her bottom lip was quivering and Miguel was looking at her with so much sadness...she just caved.

Her arms slid around his shoulders, his own hands reaching up to hold her. Hot tears slid down both of her cheeks, dripping onto Miguel's shirt. Her knuckles curled as she gripped him harder, feeling the sobs punch out of her. Maybe she didn't know her reasons for it after all. Maybe the fight with Tory had been more than just proving a point. Maybe she had wanted to get hurt.

"I'm sorry," Miguel whispered, their bodies so flushed together she could feel the vibrations of his voice.

"What for?" She pulled away from him. The palms of her hands stabbed at her wet face, growing embarrassed with the outburst of emotion.

"I just...I somehow feel like this is my fault. With our weird call yesterday...I didn't hear you out. I wasn't there for you and I was mean. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault Tory beat the shit out of me," Flynn mumbled.

She drew away from the doorframe, allowing the Diaz inside. His amber eyes never left her face as he trekked inside, worry swarming his expression. "Why'd you let her do that? No offense to Tory but you can beat her ass, like, any day."

Had she not felt so damn sad, she might've laughed. It felt nice knowing he had such confidence in her. "I don't know, honestly. I don't..." She swallowed a heavy lump in her throat, overwhelmed with emotion again. "I don't think I want to talk about it right now."

"Hey, that's okay," he inched closer to her, looking like he might hug her again. She wouldn't protest. "Have you been feeling okay lately? You haven't, like...been feeling depressed?"

She blinked hard, letting her eyes stay shut for a prolonged moment. But this was Miguel. And she really did feel this safe and comfortable with him. "Honestly? I haven't been feeling the greatest. I'm at one of those low points right now, I guess."

And then he did hug her again. Flynn relished the feeling of his warm arms sliding around her, holding her against him like he needed her there. Her nose brushed against the crest of his shoulder, head moving down until the non-injured side of her face rested against his shoulder.

Despite the bruises marring her body, this was the most incredible Flynn had ever felt. She closed her eyes, begging herself not to forget this feeling as they pulled back.

"I'm sorry I left without waiting for you to wake up. I just didn't think I could be there when you did. That was...so scary, Flynn. Seeing you out like that," he whispered.

"Yeah. It was scary for me too. I'm sorry you had to watch that. And I promise, it won't happen again. I'll always fight back, from now on."

This relaxed him, his shoulders loosening. "Good. Because I think we all know you should've given Tory a run for her money. I wouldn't have minded my team losing today because of you."

She snorted despite herself. "Well, good to know. Better keep that attitude up in case there's ever a Coyote Creek part two." She prodded his shoulder, the serious tone of the conversation dropping.

The pair moved from the door to the couch, settling into the regular routine of hangouts. An hour passed and they were sprawled under one of Flynn's massive blankets, playing Roblox Bingo on her laptop.

"If this bitch doesn't say O sixty-six, I'm gonna loose my damn mind," Flynn cursed, staring at the screen with a competitive glare. A few more turns and Flynn lost to some rando, a disappointed groan leaving her.

"I should probably get going. I gotta make it back home for dinner," Miguel sat up with droopy shoulders, not looking too thrilled at the prospect of leaving. Flynn felt the same.

"Okay. Hey," she sat forward, leaning towards him. Her bottom lip sunk into her teeth, gnawing on the flesh before she remembered the painful cut there. "Thank you for coming over and checking on me. You...I can't tell you enough how much that means to me. No one's ever done that for me."

"Well, they should have been," he answered, the words bolting out of him. He looked surprised by himself, but made no moves to take it back. "Seriously, Flynn. I'll always be there for you."

She believed him.