GETTING UP AT EIGHT IN THE MORNING WAS HARD FOR HAYDEN.

Especially when she didn't get much sleep.

But she was here, standing silently at the bottom of the juvenile hall steps, skateboard balanced at her side, raindrops soaking through her hoodie.

Her gaze was distant, her mind lost in thought—on the boy walking out of those doors any moment now., until something sharp caught her attention—a flash of sleek black paint reflecting beneath the downpour. Hayden narrowed her eyes, focusing on a 2018 Audi.

Daniel LaRusso's car.

Her jaw tensed, and when she spotted the next vehicle—a 2009 Dodge Challenger, unmistakably Johnny Lawrence's—she let out a quiet groan, running a hand down her face. "Of course," she muttered. It seemed like whenever those two were together, chaos was inevitable.

Steeling herself, she climbed the steps. She could hear raised voices before she reached the top.

"You never once considered maybe you should think first!" Daniel's words echoed sharply through the rain.

"You know what I'm thinking now?" Johnny's voice was clearer, rougher, and undeniably pissed off.

Hayden reached the top just as they stepped closer to each other, practically nose-to-nose. She rolled her eyes, "Seriously?" she drawled, voice calm but cutting.

Both men turned at the sound of her voice, but her attention had already shifted— to the boy standing nearby.

"Robby."

Her lips curved into a small smile despite herself. Robby's hard glare softened the moment he saw her, his expression easing into something almost boyish. The warmth in his eyes flickered for only a second before he turned back to the two men.

"Robby," Daniel said, stepping back slightly.

"Hey, Robby," Johnny followed, his voice softer, almost hesitant.

Robby crossed his arms, standing his ground. "I told you I don't want you here." His tone was sharp, dismissive.

Johnny shifted uncomfortably. "You're my son. I wanted to be here."

"And so did I," Daniel added quickly, nodding in agreement.

Hayden's eyes flicked between the three of them. She stayed silent, though tension rippled through her. She hadn't seen Daniel since the school fight, and standing here now, all she feel was anger.

A different kind of anger than she felt when she thought about Sam or Grayson, though. The kind of anger that stemmed from sadness, grief.

The kind that mourned what could've been.

Robby's jaw clenched. "Don't do me any favors. It's your fault I was in here," he snapped at Daniel, nodding toward the building behind them.

"I know you're upset, but I was doing what was best for you," Daniel said, voice steady but cautious.

Robby scoffed, glancing off to the side as though trying to keep his temper in check.

"You'll always have a home at Miyagi-Do," Daniel continued, flicking his gaze between Robby and Hayden.

"Or with me," Johnny added, stepping forward.

Hayden shifted her stance slightly, drawing Daniel's attention. For a moment, they locked eyes, and something unspoken passed between them—an old familiarity clouded by distrust.

Daniel remembered the fight at school too well— the chaos, the fear, and the moment he found out that Hayden had been the one to hurt his daughter.

She was quiet, calculating, and sharp-edged in ways that reminded him too much of Johnny back in the day. But there was something else, too— something he didn't fully understand.

Daniel couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. Hayden hasn't had the easiest life— no doubt about that. He didn't know the full story, but he could see it in the way she carried herself, in the sharp edge behind her eyes that spoke of someone used to fighting battles on her own.

She wasn't just some delinquent. There was control behind those eyes, something deliberate about the way she carried herself. And, if he was being honest with himself, she was dangerous in ways that unsettled him. He'd seen her fight, seen how good she was in the little amount of time he'd taught her.

It threw Daniel off because Hayden didn't carry herself like a typical delinquent. Every movement she made was deliberate, controlled. Even in her silence, she seemed aware of everything around her, as though she'd learned to navigate the world by always staying one step ahead. It wasn't hard to see that she'd been through more than most kids her age ever should.

And then there was Robby.

Daniel watched the way he stood a little closer to Hayden, the way his shoulders eased just slightly when she was nearby. That boy had been through his own share of pain, and whatever it was between him and Hayden— it grounded him. Daniel didn't fully trust her, but he could see that she mattered to Robby.

"Hayden." Daniel's voice was softer now, almost hesitant. "Its— Its been awhile. I've been meaning to talk to you. I hope—"

"I'm not here for small talk," she cut in, her voice level. "I'm only here for Robby."

Robby's expression didn't change, and neither did Hayden's. She didn't trust Daniel. Not after what he did.

Robby's jaw tightened, but he didn't lash out like before.

Hayden's eyes flicked to Daniel briefly, her expression unreadable. She didn't say anything, but her presence alone seemed to temper the situation.

Daniel took a slow breath. He knew better than to expect forgiveness—not from Robby, and definitely not from Hayden. But standing here, he realized that maybe forgiveness wasn't what mattered. What mattered was making sure Robby had people in his corner, even if those people didn't always get along.

He met Hayden's gaze again, and for the first time, he saw something beyond distrust. He saw someone who, despite everything, was here—for Robby.

Robby turned fully toward them, eyes hard. "Both of you, stay out of our lives."

Hayden blinked at the word our, a flicker of surprise breaking through her usually stoic expression.

He wasn't just shutting them out— he was drawing a line, and he was putting her on his side of it.

Without another word, Robby walked past them, his hand brushing against Hayden's lower back as he gently guided her down the stairs. His expression shifted once they were clear of the others, the hard lines in his face easing into something softer, almost playful.

"You're here," Robby said, breathless, as though he wasn't quite expecting her to be.

Hayden raised an eyebrow, trying to mask any emotion. "I said I would be."

Robby smiled, that soft, genuine smile that always made something stir inside her. "Yeah, but... I don't know. I wasn't sure you'd actually come."

It was becoming clear to Hayden that she wasn't the only one who had some things to work through. It made her feel a little better.

"Why wouldn't I?" she asked, her voice low, steady. But something flickered in her gaze—something softer, something only Robby could pull from her.

He shrugged, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets. "Guess I thought maybe after everything..." He trailed off, but the weight of his words hung in the air.

Hayden stepped forward, closing the space between them. She didn't say anything right away, just looked at him, really looked at him, like she was trying to gauge if he was okay.

"I'm here," she said simply. "Whatever happens, I'm here."

Robby couldn't help the warmth spreading in his chest. He'd imagined this moment a hundred times—getting out, seeing her again—but none of his imagined scenarios compared to this. There was something about knowing she was there, waiting for him, that made it all feel real in a way it hadn't before.

He exhaled slowly, the weight of the last few months easing just a little. He hadn't realized how much he needed to hear that until now.

"Okay," he murmured. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, a small, unconscious movement that sent a shiver up her spine. "Okay."

They stood there for a moment, hand in hand, the city around them fading into the background. It wasn't some grand reunion, but it didn't need to be. For them, this quiet connection was enough.

"Against the world, right?"

She held a fist out. Robby stared at it for a moment, smiling softly before bumping his fist with hers. "Against the world."

Finally, Hayden tilted her head toward a nearby diner. "Come on. Let's get you something to eat before you collapse or something."

Robby laughed again, this time more naturally. "Lead the way."

As they started walking again, their hands still entwined, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. The mist blurred the edges of everything around them, but not her. Hayden was sharp and steady, like a beacon in the middle of all the chaos.

"You good?" he asked, his voice low, his hand lingering a second longer before he pulled it back.

Hayden chuckled. "You're the one fresh out of juvie. Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Robby nodded with a laugh. "Fair enough. Better, now." His lips curled into a half-smile, and he tilted his head toward the road.

They walked in silence for a while, the rain easing into a drizzle as they moved farther from the juvenile hall. Eventually, Robby broke the quiet.

"I missed this," he said quietly, almost as if to himself. "Just... walking, talking. You."

Hayden kept her eyes forward, pretending his words didn't make her heart race. "Same."

—

The bell over the door gave a soft jingle as Hayden and Robby stepped into the diner. The smell of frying bacon and fresh coffee filled the air, mingling with the low hum of conversation. It was warm inside, a welcome contrast to the cold outside. They slid into a booth near the window, where the glass fogged slightly from their breath.

A waitress appeared with a tired but friendly smile, placing two menus on the table. "What can I get you two to drink?"

"Just water for me," Hayden said without looking up, already skimming the menu.

Robby glanced at her and smirked. "Make it two," he added, earning a slight raise of her brow.

When the waitress walked away, Robby leaned back, stretching a little. He could still feel the stiffness in his muscles from too many days in a cramped cell. He caught Hayden watching him, her expression unreadable.

"What?" he asked, curious.

"Nothing," she replied, setting the menu down. "You just... look different."

"Good different or bad different?"

She didn't answer right away. Instead, she rested her elbow on the table and propped her chin on her hand, studying him. "Stronger," she said finally, her voice quieter. "Like juvie did a number on you."

Robby didn't know how to respond to that. No one had ever really looked at him that way—like they saw something beneath the surface. He cleared his throat, trying to shake off the unexpected weight of her words. "Guess that's one way to put it."

The waitress returned with their drinks, setting them down before pulling out her notepad. "Ready to order?"

"I'll have the bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate milkshake," Robby said without hesitation.

Hayden's lips twitched slightly in amusement. She ordered something simpler—a grilled cheese and fries.

Once the waitress left again, Robby leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. His expression softened, losing its teasing edge. "It's nice to see you outside of the visitation room."

Hayden looked up, heart rate picking up. "Yeah," She agreed quietly. "But I have to ask— and I'm not saying you need to have everything figured out— but where do you plan on staying? Mr. L— Johnny sounded like he wanted you stay with him."

Robby stared down at the floor for a moment before speaking. "I don't know yet," he admitted, his voice low. "Haven't gotten that far."

Hayden watched him closely, something about the way he hung his head catching her off guard. Robby had always seemed unbreakable to her—strong, resilient, and never the type to show hesitation. Seeing him like this, shoulders slumped, head lowered, his voice barely above a whisper, it stirred something inside her. He looked like a kid who had no idea where he belonged.

She didn't think twice before speaking.

"You can crash at my place," she offered, her voice steady, casual, as if it were the most obvious solution.

Robby raised a brow. "What about your mom? I don't want to get you in trouble."

Hayden's expression didn't change. Her gaze was level, unwavering. "She'll never find out."

"But—"

"She works late. Comes home tired. Doesn't check on me," Hayden interrupted, her tone calm, matter-of-fact. "She won't even know you're there."

Robby studied her for a moment, clearly torn. He appreciated the offer more than he could say, but the last thing he wanted was to cause problems for her.

Still, there was something about the way Hayden said it—like she already had it all figured out—that made it hard to argue.

"Are you sure?" he asked quietly.

Hayden gave a slight nod. "Yeah. You need a place. I've got one. Makes sense."

Robby eventually nodded, grazing her fingers with his and brushing the top of her hand softly. "Thank you," He murmured.

"Mhm," she hummed, already turning away, the conversation settled in her mind. That was just how she was— silent, sure of herself, always knowing exactly what to say when it mattered most.

Robby leaned against the booth, watching as Hayden sipped her water, the music in the diner humming gently.

She didn't seem to notice him staring— or, knowing her, she did and just didn't care. That was the thing about Hayden: she never sought attention, never asked for gratitude or praise. She just was— unflinching, steady, always there when it mattered most.

He thought back to all the moments when things could've gone differently. The nights he barely made it through, when the weight of everything threatened to crush him. She could've walked away, and no one would've blamed her. But she didn't. Even when he gave her plenty of reasons to, she stayed.

Hayden shifted slightly, glancing at him over her shoulder with that quiet, unreadable expression she always wore. "You good?" she asked, her voice calm and even, like nothing ever fazed her.

Robby felt a tightness in his chest, something more than gratitude, deeper than admiration. Not in some fleeting, impulsive way, but in the kind of way that made him want to be better, to deserve her steadiness.

He took a breath, stepping closer. "Thank you.. for not giving up on me. Most people have, even my mom. You didn't." His voice was soft, almost hesitant.

Hayden's gaze flicked back to the stars. "I'm not most people."

He smiled despite himself. "No, you're not."

Hayden didn't move, didn't react the way most people would. She just stared through the window at the quiet street, her hands wrapped around her cup. "I know who you are, Robby."

That simple statement made him freeze. He looked at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

Finally, she turned to him, her dark eyes steady and unwavering. "I know what kind of person you are. You act like you've got too much weight on your shoulders, like you're too far gone, but you're not. You're good. You've always been good." Her words were quiet but firm, like a truth she didn't expect him to argue with.

Robby swallowed hard, her words sinking in deeper than anything anyone had ever told him. "You really believe that?"

Hayden's gaze didn't waver. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

Something stirred inside him— gratitude, affection, love.

He wasn't sure what to call it, but it was overwhelming. No one had ever believed in him the way Hayden did, without expecting anything in return. It wasn't just that she stuck around; it was that she saw him for who he was, even when he couldn't see it himself.

"I get it. The feeling of not knowing where you belong, or if you belong at all. And if I can stop you from feeling like that, even for a second, I will."

"I mean it, though," he said after a beat. "You could've walked away a hundred times. And I would've blame you if you did. Why didn't you?"

Hayden tilted her head slightly, considering his question. Then, without looking at him, she gave a small shrug. "Because I knew you wouldn't give up on yourself either. You just needed someone to remind you."

Robby didn't know what to say to that. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way his chest ached in the best way possible. Hayden had a way of cutting through everything, of saying exactly what he needed to hear without dressing it up. She didn't need grand gestures or long-winded explanations. Her presence alone said everything.

"I guess I owe you, then," he murmured.

Hayden's lips twitched, barely hinting at a smile. "You don't owe me anything."

But Robby knew better. He owed her more than words could ever say. And though she might never ask for anything in return, he silently promised himself he'd always be there for her, just like she was for him. Even if she never knew how much she meant to him, he'd make sure she felt it in every way that mattered.

—

Robby could be taking Hayden to get murdered right now and she wouldn't have a clue.

Because, as they were on the way back to her apartment, he suddenly had something he wanted to show her, dragging her away from her apartment and rerouting them.

But as they neared their final destination, she grew familiar of her surroundings more and more. "Why are we going to Miyagi Do?" 

She glanced around, noting the faint scent of polished wood and the nostalgic hum of quiet tranquility. It was strange being back—like stepping into a memory she thought she'd outgrown. Early mornings spent training until her muscles ached, the endless summer days under the sun.

A part of her almost missed it. Almost.

"You'll see," Robby said, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips as he guided her through the dojo and toward the backyard.

"You ever seen the Miyagi-Do garden at night?" he asked, dropping her hand just as they reached the door. She hadn't realized how warm his hand was until it was gone.

Hayden shook her head, curiosity sparking in her otherwise guarded expression. "No."

"When I lived with the LaRusso's, I'd come here all the time. Lights reflecting off the pond, quiet all around you... It's one of the best sights in the valley. Something you'd like, I think. It kinda reminds me of you." His hand rested on the sliding door handle, turning back to her with a smirk. "Trust me, you'll love it."

She nodded, her grin widening slightly. "Show me, then."

With a smirk, Robby paused dramatically before pushing the door open. Hayden laughed quietly, shoving him lightly. But when the door swung open, Robby's grin vanished. He stiffened, eyes locking onto something—or someone—outside.

Hayden stepped around him, her brow furrowing at his sudden shift in mood. Sam looked tense, arms crossed as if she were shielding herself from the cold. Miguel's head was slightly bowed, but his voice carried in the quiet night.

For a moment, everything stilled. The cool night air bit at Hayden's skin, but all she felt was a strange hollowness in her chest.

"Miguel," she stated to make her presence known, her voice low, measured— too calm to be anything but dangerous.

Miguel's head snapped up, and he instinctively stepped back from Sam. His expression was one of pure guilt, though there was no reason for it to be.

Nothing had happened and nothing was going
to happen, but he knew exactly how it looked.

"Hayden, it's not—"

"Not what it looks like?" Her tone was sharp, cutting him off before he could explain. Her face betrayed nothing, but the tension in her shoulders said enough.

She wasn't angry—not yet. Disappointed, maybe. Guarded, definitely. But not angry.

Robby took a step forward, standing beside Hayden as he directed a hard glare at Miguel. "Guess it didn't take long, huh?" His voice dripped with contempt. "What was it? A week? A day?"

"It's not like that!" Sam interjected, defensive but unsure of herself under Hayden's unyielding stare.

Hayden scoffed quietly, shaking her head.

"At least now I get why you stopped writing," Robby continued, his voice harder now, edged with years of unresolved tension.

"I stopped because you never answered!" Sam shot back, but her voice wavered under the weight of old wounds.

Robby's jaw clenched. "Kinda hard to write back when you're busy getting your face bashed in every day."

"I—I didn't know," Sam stammered, guilt washing over her face.

"Wouldn't have mattered if you did," Robby said bitterly. "You wouldn't have cared."

Hayden wasn't interested in their argument. Her focus remained on Miguel, who looked like he wanted nothing more than to explain. She didn't give him the chance.

"You don't get to make excuses." Her voice was cold now, steady in a way that made even Robby glance her way. She wasn't yelling. She didn't need to. Her words hit like a fist anyway. "I trusted you. That's my fault."

Miguel stepped forward, desperation flickering in his eyes. "Hayden, it's not what you think. We were just talking. I swear."

Sam didn't say anything, but Hayden caught the way her eyes darted nervously between them. The last time they'd been this close, Hayden had thrown a punch that left Sam on the ground and scared enough to keep her distance since.

She didn't move, didn't flinch, didn't even blink. "Talking?" she repeated, voice hollow. "That's what you're going with?"

Miguel clenched his jaw. He knew she wouldn't believe him. Not now. Not when it looked this bad. But he tried anyway. "She was just apologizing for what happened."

Miguel didn't know what he was thinking. Except, he did. He was hoping that, maybe if he made peace with Sam, he could persuade her to apologize to Hayden because she deserved it.

That maybe it'd help put some of Hayden's demons to rest, and she could re-join Miyagi Do like she wanted to.

And maybe he could join with her.

He wanted to help Hayden. That's all he's ever wanted to do.

Sam nodded quickly, as if it would really help Hayden believe anything.

"Really? Sam LaRusso, the queen of allegations, wanted to apologize?" Her eyes met his, cool and stoic, but there was something beneath them—something fragile she refused to show. "Whatever this is, I'm done with it."

"Hayden, I'm telling the truth. Please believe—"

Maybe Miguel was telling the truth. Maybe he was getting his version of closure and Sam was willing to give an apology in some fucked up way. But Hayden didn't want to hear it.

Because every time she sees Sam within Miguel's vicinity, all she feels is betrayal and all she can see is flashes of the kiss.

"I said, don't." Her voice was firmer now, and when Miguel took another step forward, Robby moved between them, standing like a wall.

"You heard her," Robby said through clenched teeth, his eyes locked on Miguel. "Back off."

"Get out of my face." Miguel gritted out. Miguel's fists clenched at his sides, but he didn't move.

Robby immediately stepped between them, his posture tense. "Don't touch her," he said through gritted teeth.

Miguel's eyes narrowed. "Stay out of this, Robby."

"Make me," Robby challenged, fists balling at his sides.

The tension snapped like a wire pulled too tight. Robby pulled his arm back for a punch, but Sam stepped in, pushing him away.

Before Hayden even registered what she was doing, she moved. She grabbed Sam by the shoulders and shoved her back hard, sending her stumbling into Miguel. "Don't touch him," she said coldly, her voice like ice.

Sam's eyes widened in fear as she scrambled back to her feet. Hayden didn't move, didn't lash out further. She didn't have to. The intensity in her gaze was enough.

Now? Now she was angry.

It was the kind of seething anger that started in the bottom of her feet, a faint prickling that spread like wildfire through her veins.

Each step seemed heavier, the ground more solid, as though her anger had roots, tethering her to something she didn't want to acknowledge. It crawled upward, coiling around her calves, tightening in her thighs, until it found her gut— where it simmered, boiling low and slow, twisting her insides into a knot she couldn't untangle.

Her chest grew tight, every breath shallow and sharp, like trying to breathe through shards of glass. The heat rose further, up her spine, curling into her shoulders, searing her neck. It burned in her throat— bitter and vile— until the taste of it coated her tongue like copper and ash.

The anger didn't come all at once. It crept in over time, slithering into the cracks life left in her, coiling tighter with each disappointment, each betrayal. At first, it had been quiet, a shadow flickering in the corners of her mind. But now, it was everywhere—pumping through her veins, latching onto her heart, wrapping around her soul like black smoke.

Her smile, once soft and bright, had become sharp-edged, something to hide the storm churning just beneath. The world had stripped away her gentleness, piece by piece, until all that was left was this—anger so deep it carved out her soul and filled the void with shadows.

And maybe that's all she'd ever be now: the girl who used to glow, who used to laugh. The girl who once lived in light, only to be devoured by her betrayals that marked her like a whip.

It filled her soul with something dark, thick, and heavy. Her hands shook, not with fear, but with the effort of holding back the flood. It wanted out— wanted to escape as a scream, a curse, a fist through the nearest wall. But she swallowed it down, even as it scorched her throat raw, even as her jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

How come at every damn turn, Sam was there? She managed to be there when something went wrong in her life, lurking like it was something she enjoyed.

Like the downfall to her life was something she wanted a front row seat ticket too.

"Come on, Hayden." Robby's voice was softer now, directed only at her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, gently guiding her away. She let him because, quite frankly, she was too consumed in her anger and thoughts that she shouldn't be in control of her own body.

Miguel watched her go, his heart sinking as she disappeared into the darkness.

Sam turned to him, guilt written all over her face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"It's not your fault," Miguel muttered, running a hand down his face. But the words felt hollow. None of this was her fault. It wasn't anyone's fault, really.

It was just bad timing. Bad luck.

And now, Miguel could only hope that Hayden would give him the chance to explain before it was too late.

authors note.
team Miguel don't hate me THEY HAVE TO GO THROUGH THE BAD TO GET TO THE GOOD