USUALLY, DR. MORGAN HAD TO PRY A CONVERSATION OUT OF HER.

Usually, Hayden sat in her chair, waiting for the minutes to go and the clock to strike, time running out.

But not today. Today, Hayden had lots to say and Dr. Morgan was going to get an earful.

The anger in her was eating her alive, clawing to get out. Her leg bounced up and down, her whole body tense, buzzing with unspent anger.

"—I spent months believing I wasn't good enough. That I didn't deserve to win. That everything I went through—the injuries, the training—wasn't enough." She slammed her fist into the chair. "And all this time, it was rigged."

"You're angry," she finally said, her voice quiet but pointed.

Hayden exhaled sharply. "Yeah, no shit."

"So, it's the fact that you were deceived that's making you angry?"

She shook her head, her jaw clenched. "No. It's the fact that she knew. Tory knew. She let me believe that I wasn't good enough. And now... now I feel like everything I worked for, everything I sacrificed, was for nothing. And she never said a word. She let me think I was the one who lost."

Dr. Morgan leaned forward slightly, her gaze steady. "And what does that make you feel now? Now that you know you won?"

Hayden's breath hitched, her fingers gripping the edge of the couch. "I feel like I'm still losing," she muttered.

"You feel like you're still losing, even though you won?"

"Yeah," she snapped, lifting her gaze to meet hers. "Because all this time, I thought I had to earn it. That I had to prove I was good enough. And now... now it feels like none of it means anything." Her voice trembled slightly. "I've spent so much time, so much time, chasing something that was never even in my control."

Dr. Morgan nodded, her voice calm and gentle. "That's a hard thing to realize. That the very thing you thought you needed to prove to the world, to yourself, was never really up to you in the first place."

Hayden's chest tightened. "But it was up to me. It was my fight. My battle to win. And it was taken from me. And I let it be taken. And she let me believe it was all my fault. That I wasn't good enough. That I wasn't... enough." Her voice cracked at the end, and the rawness of it stung in the back of her throat.

Dr. Morgan's eyes softened. "So, now that you know the truth, what does winning mean to you?"

She froze. The question hit her like a punch to the gut, and for a long moment, she didn't know how to answer. Winning. What did it mean now?

She had spent so long defining herself by whether or not she was worthy of winning. By whether or not the pain she'd put herself through had been enough. By the belief that if she didn't win, if she wasn't the best, then she was nothing.

But now—now that she knew she had actually won—what did that mean?

"I don't know," she muttered, her voice small. "It feels like... like everything I've been fighting for doesn't matter anymore. I worked myself to the bone, destroyed myself just to be enough, and it turns out none of it was real." Her breath hitched. "It was all a lie."

Dr. Morgan sat quietly for a moment, letting the weight of her words sit between them. "Maybe," she said gently, "it wasn't about the win, or the loss. Maybe it was about how much you needed to prove something to yourself. That no matter what happened, you believed you had to be something else—someone else. But you were already good enough, Hayden. You just didn't see it."

Hayden blinked, feeling a lump form in her throat. "But how? How am I supposed to just... let that go? All that work, all that pain—and for what?"

Dr. Morgan's voice was quiet, but firm. "It wasn't for nothing, Hayden. You didn't just work to win. You worked to find something inside of you. To prove that you were worthy of your own strength, your own voice, your own place in the world."

She felt something shift in her chest—a crack, a flicker of something deeper, something unseen until now. But it was still hard. So hard to understand. To believe.

"How do I stop feeling like I've been... betrayed?" she whispered.

Dr. Morgan gave her a small, empathetic smile. "You start by realizing that betrayal is only possible if you've been giving your power away. If you've been looking for validation from someone or something outside of you." She paused. "When you stop looking for someone or something else to define you, Hayden... that's when you stop losing."

Hayden exhaled slowly, her chest tight, but something was shifting. Something clicking in her mind.

It was hard. So hard to accept. But maybe it wasn't the win that had always mattered. Maybe it was the fact that she kept fighting, kept moving forward, even when she felt like she wasn't enough.

Maybe the truth was she'd always been enough.

She just had to believe it. She just wasn't sure where to start in that process.

But she knew one thing, though.

She wouldn't let Silver get away with this.

—

Hayden stormed into Cobra Kai's dojo, rage burning beneath her skin, her fists already clenched at her sides. She wasn't afraid. Not of Silver. Not of this place.

Not anymore.

She found him standing at the front of the mat, his hands clasped behind his back, his expression cool, expectant—like he knew she'd come.

"Miss Sanders, to what do I owe the pleasure—"

"Shut up," She cut him off, Hayden's breath was sharp. "You cheated."

Silver raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. "I did?"

Hayden's jaw tightened. "The All Valley. You paid off the ref. I won that fight."

Silver didn't blink. Didn't even flinch.

Instead, he chuckled, shaking his head. "And what do you expect me to do with that information?" His voice was smooth, casual. "Apologize?"

Hayden's fists clenched. "Admit it."

Silver sighed dramatically, stepping forward. "Let's say, for argument's sake, that what you're saying is true." He tilted his head. "Who's going to believe you?"

Hayden stilled.

Silver smirked. "Think about it. It's your word against mine. A bitter former student who lost and needs something to blame." He leaned in slightly. "You think anyone outside of Miyagi-Do is going to believe you?"

Her stomach twisted, but she didn't falter. "It doesn't matter if they believe me. I know. The truth will eventually come out. And I'll do everything I can to expose you and stop you from brainwashing anymore kids." She narrowed her eyes at him.

Silver hummed, like he was considering that, before snapping his fingers.

The doors at the side of the dojo slid open, and two students rolled in a massive slab of stone, setting it down in the center of the mat with a dull thud.

Hayden's brow furrowed. "What the hell is this?"

"If you want to leave, Sanders," he said, his voice eerily calm, "you'll break this."

Her stomach twisted. "You're insane."

Silver's chuckle was low, dangerous. "You knew that already."

Her breathing sharpened. "I'm not playing this game. You put me through enough already."

Silver's smirk didn't waver. "Try and leave."

She turned toward the exit—only to find three massive guys stepping in front of the door, arms crossed, blocking her way.

Her stomach dropped.

Hayden's throat tightened. She didn't want to. She didn't want to. The stone was too thick, too heavy, and the thought of breaking it sent a wave of dread through her body.

Silver clicked his tongue. "You don't just drop a challenge and try to leave, Sanders." His voice was calm, but there was a bite to it now. "You want to walk out of here? Then break it."

Hayden's hands clenched at her sides.

She was good—but she wasn't stupid. She couldn't take on three guys the size of football players at once.

Her jaw tightened as she turned back to the stone slab. It loomed before her, intimidating, massive, its weight taunting her. The idea of hitting it—of hurting herself just to leave—was unbearable.

Because that's what he wanted.

She wanted to scream, to throw something, to break everything in sight. But she couldn't. She knew what he was doing. He was pushing her. Testing her. Seeing how much he could break her against her will.

Slowly, she stepped forward, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch the stone. The coldness of it shot through her arm, like it was reminding her of the pain waiting for her if she dared to try.

She closed her eyes for a moment. Just hit it. Just do it.

The three large men standing by the exit folded their arms, their eyes narrowing, silently daring her to fail.

Silver's voice cut through the noise like a knife. "Do it, Hayden."

Hayden inhaled, her heart hammering in her chest. She couldn't back down. She couldn't.

With a fierce breath, she swung her fist at the stone.

The impact shattered her knuckles. Pain exploded through her arm, and she fell to her knees, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her hand throbbed, and blood oozed between her fingers.

The stone hadn't broken.

Laughter rippled through the dojo, low and taunting. One of the guards chuckled under his breath.

"Guess you're not as strong as you thought," Silver mused, circling her now. "Pathetic," he muttered under his breath.

Hayden squeezed her eyes shut, jaw clenching against the pain.

She slowly, painfully, reset.

She hit it again.

The pain was worse this time, white-hot, burning through her fingers and wrist, her breathing ragged now.

Still, nothing.

"Pathetic," one of the guys muttered.

Silver let out a disappointed sigh. "You always were a fighter, Hayden. But a winner?" He shook his head. "I'm not so sure."

Hayden inhaled sharply, shaking out her trembling hands. Blood was already trickling down her fingers, her knuckles cracked and raw.

With a sharp breath, she reset her stance, tightened every muscle in her body—

And struck.

A sickening crack echoed through the dojo.

The stone split.

Her knees buckled as pain roared through her arm, her vision blurring for half a second as she stumbled back.

Her knees hit the mat.

Her hands trembled violently as she stared down at them, at the blood pooling in her palms, dripping onto the mat.

The room was silent.

Silver watched her for a moment before nodding, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

"There she is," he cooed. "Cobra Kai Hayden. Thought she was gone for a second there."

Hayden's breath shuddered, tears pricking at her eyes, her whole body aching—but she refused to let them fall.

Silver turned, gesturing for the guards to leave, and following with them. But not before leaving her with his final words. "Next time, I think it'd be wise to think again before coming back here and throwing around threats."

And as Hayden sat there, battered, bloodied, broken, she realized— Silver was terrorizing everyone in that dojo. Whether they had come to realize it or not.

Tory. Kenny. Devon.

She collapsed her entire body to the floor, tears finally spilling over, her body crumpling in pain and defeat.

Silver didn't even look back as he and the others left the room, leaving her there, alone, in the cold silence of the dojo.

She had broken the stone, but she'd lost her strength in the process.

And as the pain in her hand spread through her body, all she could do was cry.

Hayden couldn't move.

She laid there, her body shaking, blood dripping from her hands, watching as they walked away.

As Silver walked away.

As they left her there.

Alone.

Again.

—

Hayden didn't remember how she got here.

The world had gone quiet in Hayden eyes and ears, moving through the motions absentmindedly.

She didn't remember anything after she broke the stone. Her mind didn't let her.

One minute, she had been curled up on the cold dojo floor, staring at the blood pooling in her palm, her body aching from the stone she had shattered.

The next, she was standing outside Tory's apartment, her uninjured knuckles hovering over the door, hesitating.

She shouldn't be here.

After everything—after the anger, the betrayal, the pain—she should've walked away.

But as she stood there, every ounce of rage she once felt for Tory had drained out of her, leaving something hollow, something aching.

Because Silver hadn't just broken her.

He had been breaking Tory, too.

And she had been too blinded by anger to see it before.

Taking a sharp breath, she forced herself to knock.

A beat of silence.

Then the door swung open—

And Tory was there.

Her expression tensed instantly, brows furrowing in frustration. "Oh. Now you want to talk?"

Hayden flinched slightly, the sharpness in her tone cutting through the air. A few hours ago, she would've snapped back. She would've wanted the fight, would've thrown every ounce of anger she had back in Tory's face.

But now?

Now, she just looked at her.

Looked at the exhaustion in her eyes, the barely concealed tension in her shoulders.

And then she saw her hand.

Swollen. Red and purple, the bruising creeping up her knuckles, like she had been through hell.

Hayden inhaled sharply. "What happened to your—"

Tory scoffed, crossing her arms, but Hayden didn't miss the way her fingers trembled. "Oh, so now you care?"

Hayden swallowed hard. "Tory—"

Tory shook her head. "You didn't care yesterday." Her voice wavered slightly. "You just yelled at me. You didn't even let me explain."

Hayden dropped her gaze, the weight of those words settling deep in her chest.

She had been so angry. So furious at Tory for keeping Silver's secret, for letting her believe she had lost. She had only seen it as a betrayal.

But now, standing here, looking at the damage Silver had left on her—

She understood.

Her voice was quiet now, almost timid. "I get it."

Tory's brows furrowed, uncertainty flickering in her expression. "What?"

Hayden's throat tightened. "I get why you didn't tell me." She exhaled shakily, lifting her hand slightly, palm facing up, revealing the cracked, bloody mess of her knuckles. "I know what he does to people."

Tory's eyes flickered down to her hand, her breath catching.

For the first time since opening the door, the fight seemed to drain out of her.

Slowly, cautiously, she stepped back, motioning Hayden inside.

Hayden hesitated for only a second before following.

The apartment was a mess. Chinese takeout boxes everywhere. Dirty plates. Cereal boxes. Plastic cups. Hayden trailed her gaze over, landing on a room.

A room with a hospital bed and the familiar monotoned beeps of a hospital machine. Her mom.

Tory shut the door behind them, the click of the lock sounding too final, too loud in the silence.

She didn't turn right away.

When she finally did, her hands were shaking as she reached for the hem of her hoodie.

She pulled it up—just enough to reveal the bruises along her ribs. Deep, ugly marks, some older than others, some fresh.

It was exactly how he had left her before she left Cobra Kai.

Hayden felt something crack inside her.

Tory hadn't just been surviving Silver's dojo.

She had been surviving him.

Hayden's breath shuddered, and before she could stop herself, she reached forward, engulfing Tory in a hug.

She knew she wished she'd been held the same way.

For a second, Tory stiffened—like she wasn't used to being held.

Then—

She broke.

A sob tore from her throat as she clutched onto Hayden, her fingers digging into the fabric of her hoodie, like if she let go, she would fall apart completely.

Hayden closed her eyes, resting her chin against Tory's shoulder, tightening her arms around her. She felt the shaking, the way Tory's body trembled against hers, how her cries muffled into her neck.

She didn't say anything. Didn't tell her it was okay.

Because it wasn't.

But she held her.

She held her.

And for now, that was enough.

After a long moment, Tory pulled back slightly, sniffling, rubbing at her face like she was embarrassed. "I'm—"

"Don't," Hayden cut in softly. "Don't apologize."

Tory exhaled shakily, avoiding her gaze for a second before finally looking up. There was something different in her eyes now—something raw, something that had been buried deep beneath the surface for too long.

Hayden swallowed. "Tell me everything."

Tory nodded once.

—

Tory pressed the ice pack gently against Hayden's bruised knuckles, watching as she winced at the contact, her jaw clenching. "Hold still," she muttered.

Hayden exhaled through her nose but didn't pull away. She let Tory keep holding it there, despite the sting.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The apartment was quiet, the weight of everything they hadn't said still hanging between them.

Then, softly, Tory broke the silence.

"I wanted to win the All Valley more than anything."

Hayden blinked, glancing up at her.

Tory swallowed, her fingers tightening slightly around the ice pack. "After our match when they handed me that trophy," Her voice wavered. "That was the best moment of my life. And I... I didn't know what Silver was doing to me."

Hayden didn't say anything. She just listened.

Tory let out a bitter laugh. "And then I saw you."

Hayden's throat tightened.

Tory looked down at Hayden's bruised hand, her thumb brushing carefully along the edge of her wrist. "I saw you on the mat. Bruised. Beaten. Crying." She inhaled shakily. "And for the first time, I started to wonder if maybe I'd been wrong."

Hayden felt something in her chest tighten.

Tory swallowed hard, her voice quieter now. "But then I saw Silver and that ref—" She broke off, exhaling sharply. "And it just killed me."

Hayden stiffened. She watched her, her own pain momentarily forgotten.

"I felt like a fraud," Tory admitted, her grip on the ice pack tightening. "And I wanted to get back at Silver so bad."

Her breath was unsteady now, her shoulders tense.

"That's why I listened to Kreese, but then I just got caught up in more lies. And now my life is a living hell." She let out a bitter laugh.

Hayden's brows furrowed. "You were working with Kreese?"

Tory nodded, exhaling sharply. "Yeah."

Her voice cracked, and for the first time, Hayden saw it—the weight of it all. The exhaustion. The helplessness.

Tory had been fighting a battle on all sides, and somewhere along the way, she had lost herself in it.

Hayden inhaled, her throat tight.

"Tory."

Tory finally looked at her.

Hayden hesitated, then gently took the ice pack from her hands, pressing it against her own knuckles. "We'll figure it out."

Tory let out a slow, shaky breath. "How?"

Hayden's jaw tightened. "I don't know." She looked at her, eyes steady. "But you're not doing this alone anymore."

Tory's lips parted slightly, something breaking in her expression.

Silence consumed them.

The ice pack was cold against Hayden's knuckles, but it didn't do anything to numb the heat burning in her chest.

She watched Tory closely, the way her hands shook slightly despite her firm grip.

"Why?" Hayden asked, her voice rough.

Tory scoffed. "You're gonna have to be more specific."

Hayden leaned in slightly. "Why put yourself through all of this? Why lie, why spy for Kreese, why—" She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Why do you care so much?"

Tory froze.

And then, without thinking, without giving herself time to hesitate, finally—so soft Hayden almost missed it—Tory whispered, "Because I care about you."

Hayden stiffened.

Tory's eyes flickered up to hers, searching, nervous. "I didn't want to see you hurt. I thought if I could fix things, if I could make it right, maybe—" She cut herself off, exhaling shakily.

Then—

"...Hayden, I like you."

The words came out barely above a whisper.

Hayden's breath caught.

Tory inhaled sharply like she hadn't meant to say it—like the words had slipped out before she could stop them.

Slowly, finally, she looked up, her gaze flickering with hesitation, fear, something raw. "I always have."

Hayden's stomach twisted. Her chest felt tight.

She should say something.

Anything.

But all she could do was stare—stunned, frozen—her pulse pounding in her ears.

Tory swallowed hard, her fingers tightening slightly against the ice pack.

authors note.
plsss silvers so psycho ruining my girl like that BYE also we got the confession FINALLY YEAAAAA LETS GO im gonna start ten so i could lock in on the super bowl and not stress about writing #goeagles