#recurrere

[princecvbra]

He sees the frustration etched all over the teen's features, an acute awareness present that the sensei's recent distraction hasn't helped matters either. "Hey, you got a minute? Let's take a walk." (Daniel @recurrere s6 pt 2)

Robby   glanced   up   at   Daniel,   his   jaw   tightening   as   he   shoved   his   hands   into   his   hoodie   pocket.   The   frustration   Daniel   had   noticed   wasn’t   hidden—Robby   didn’t   have   the   energy   to   mask   it,   not   after   weeks   of   trying   to   push   through   on   his   own.   For   a   moment,   he   considered   brushing   the   offer   off.   It   wasn’t   like   a   walk   could   fix   everything,   not   when   the   air   between   them   was   thick   with   things   unsaid.

But   then,   the   weight   of   Daniel’s   gaze   softened   something   inside   him.   The   guy   wasn’t   just   offering   a   talk;   he   was   trying.   And   maybe,   deep   down,   Robby   needed   that   more   than   he   wanted   to   admit.   “Yeah,   sure,”   Robby   muttered,   his   tone   clipped   but   less   harsh   than   it   had   been   all   week.   He   stood,   his   movements   sharp,   almost   restless,   as   though   he   couldn’t   stay   still   even   if   he   wanted   to.   He   had   forgotten   how   it   felt   to   talk   to   someone   outside   of   Tory,   someone   who   could   talk   through   the   walls   he   built.

He   stuffed   his   hands   deeper   into   his   pockets,   glancing   sideways   at   his   sensei.   “So,   what’s   this   about?”   His   voice   was   wary   but   not   closed   off,   the   crack   in   his   defenses   enough   to   suggest   he   was   willing   to   listen—if   Daniel   had   the   right   words.

[taughtdefense]

everything feels too bright, too loud. like the world itself is a blur you can't quite focus on. kwon's body lies still on the ground, & everyone else is frozen around him, surrounding him. you're still standing behind everyone, & while you can't see kwon because of the sea of bodies in the way, that doesn't mean you can't smell his blood. the blood pooling beneath him, soaking into the mat. kwon's eyes are wide & unseeing. a medic is called, but you already know it's too late.

he's dead.

you don't even realize you're swaying until the leaderboard goes off kilter, moving to the left. the lights are bright, but it's not important. nothing feels important anymore.

your hand instinctively presses to your side, sticky & warm. it's only when sam's eyes widen in horror that you remember the knife. kwon's burning eyes as he approached you. the way it twisted deep into your flesh before being yanked out. because of kwon, the knife hit a vital organ in your side. you know that.

kwon, who is dead.

"ethan," someone… oh, it's your mom—breathes, her voice sharper now, urgent. her eyes are wide with horror. "you're hurt."

everyone's attention snaps to you, & suddenly you're the center of their panic. you try not to look at robby—you don't want to see the horror on his face. you hate it so much. tory moves instantly, a black-clad blur. her shaking hands are already reaching out towards you, but you step back automatically, shaking your head rapidly.

"i'm fine, it's okay," you mumble, though the words come out slurred, barely audible. "i'm fine, it's okay." you repeat, shock taking over.

the words feel like they're coming from someone else. they don't feel real, like they're coming from a distant place. your vision flickers, black spots appearing around the edges of your sight, & you stagger forward a step. you can't stop yourself from swaying, from feeling that dizzying pull in your head. the world shifts around you like you're underwater, muffling everything.

"ethan!" wade's voice cuts through the haze, & his hand is suddenly there, gripping your shoulder. it feels too tight, but you can't bring yourself to care. he looks at you with such worry, his eyes wide with panic, & you want to tell your dad that you're okay. but the words won’t come. your breath is shallow, ragged, & there's a pressure in your chest you can't quite place.

you try to say something else, but it just comes out as a low murmur, your vision swimming as your legs start to give way.

"ethan!" tory cries out, louder this time, her voice lined with hysteria. her hands try to catch you as you lose your balance, wade being brought down with you, your knees hitting the mat, but it's too late. you feel yourself tipping over, falling—everything spinning out of control.

you land on your side on the mat, groaning softly in pain.

"shit, eth-ethan, you're hurt, y-you're losing too much blood," tory sobs as she hovers over you, her voice strained. you barely catch the words, too focused on the sharp burn of pain in your side.

"it's okay," you whisper again, barely a breath, your head lolling toward miguel as if you're trying to get him to pull tory away from you, before she can stain her hands with your blood. you don't want that. robby... robby already did that, when you were dying in the back room of the cobra kai dojo after silver assaulted you, stabbing you with the katana.

you don't want her to do the same, & you can't bear the thought of robby—robby seeing you like this. dying, for a third time—

but you can feel the pressure in your chest tightening, the blackness pulling you deeper, & you can't seem to stop it.

as thick, hot blood fills your mouth, your breathing slows more. you barely manage to lift your head, hazy, agony-filled brown eyes locking with @recurrere's horrified ones. "miguel... tell..." your voice shakes as you say your best friend's name, barely coming out as a wheeze, "t-tell robby i'm s-sorry," every word hurts to say, blood trickling out of the corners of your mouth, sliding down your chin, "&... that i-i love... i love him..."

the last thing you hear before everything fades to black is someone's voice calling your name. desperate. your eyes slip closed, & you stop breathing.

& then, wade screams: "MEDIC!"

[taughtranquility]

❝ um… so, ❞ miguel winces at his awkward start, his awkward tone as he stares at his ringless(!) doppelgänger standing in ethan’s apartment, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’s staring at his double (ethan is standing next to miguel—well, diaz-wilson—with an extremely content look on his face as he stares at Other Him, & he has no clue how a certain eldritch is remaining so damn calm; he definitely had everything to do with this), ❝ eth mentioned that you’re his friend from an alternate universe… ❞ brown eyes flash down towards @recurrere’s finger—& nope. an engagement ring decidedly doesn’t materialize in the next second. what the hell.

miguel’s going to need to take about two weeks to process this. he’s fine with ethan being an eldritch being, that’s cool, & ethan’s unlimited powers make him even more awesome, but having a doppelgänger?

❝ & you’re… not engaged to him? ❞ he asks haltingly, clearly trying to process everything. his head is spinning. ❝ …your last name isn’t hyphenated to wilson? ❞ him & ethan not being partners? the idea is personally unfathomable. next to him, ethan shakes his head, slowly opening his eyes to look at miguel’s doppelgänger. he’s basically folded himself into miguel—the one that just spoke—who has his arm wrapped around his waist. they fit together like two puzzle pieces, & ethan looks wholly content in one of robby’s sweatshirts. his fiancé’s presence pretty much the sole reason why miguel hasn’t freaked out extensively, outwardly. if he was drinking something when other miguel walked through the door with ethan, he’s pretty sure he’d have done a spit-take.

…what a little shit. inviting another version of miguel over to this universe without saying anything is such an ethan move.

wait until robby, sam & tory hear about this. …wait, does that mean that this other miguel isn’t engaged to them, too? wow. that’s… a lot to process.

his brain hurts.

❝ see why i keep callin’ you ‘babe’, now, miguel? surprise! ❞ he says cheerfully, & miguel balks at him with his mouth dropping open before his eyes flash over towards other him, trying to ignore the grin on ethan’s face which he can see out of the corner of his eye. ❝ he calls you what? ❞ he guesses that makes sense, but holy shit.

[taughtdefense]

by some miracle of god, medicine, or eldritch stubbornness ( he’d practically invented the term stubborn )—or maybe a combination of all three—he wakes up, his eyes snapping open to meet stark white tiling—

& he wonders, for a split second, if he’s died for a third time. he kind of feels like he did die—his entire body feels like one gigantic bruise. not that it wouldn’t be surprising, because he seems to have a target on his fucking back. case & motherfucking point: being caught up in a karate war of epic proportions. case & another motherfucking point: the silver voice.

or maybe this version of ethan has his own personal hell written down as looking a lot like a hospital room, since he’s intimately familiar with them in this lifetime.

but currently, he has more pressing concerns than being disappointed by not dying.

WHEN ETHAN NO LONGER FEELS ROBBY’S BLOODSTAINED HAND IN HIS, RAW, VISCERAL, BURNING PANIC UNLIKE ANY OTHER GRIPS HIS WHOLE BODY. it slices through his frayed, jumbled nerves like a hot knife through butter, exposing the nerve-endings to further agony; his senses sharpen as adrenaline crashes through his body with the force of a tidal wave, his heart rate monitor spiking accordingly. he doesn’t even feel the iv stuck in his arm, providing necessary fluids. he’s only ever felt like sheer amount of this panic a few times, & the most recent one had been spent being more worried about silver coming back to hurt robby, while he was bleeding out on the old cobra kai dojo back room’s floor.

this time around, he remembers… scarily, nothing, except for robby’s hand in his, & the overwhelming need to protect him—not that that’s anything new, exactly. the silver voice had been yelling at him… or maybe that was the actual silver. …wait, no, it’d definitely been the voice screaming at him to fight back, or you & robby will die… he thinks.

god, his fucking head hurts.

who were they fighting? what the fuck happened? why can’t he remember?

he can’t sense robby next to him.

you should find him, mr. wilson. the silver voice suggests, & you almost scream out loud at him to shut up. before your assailants do.

no, no, no, no no no no. where’s his boyfriend? why isn’t he here? did something happen to him? is he okay? where the fuck is he?

NO.

❝ robby..! ❞ in ethan’s panic while rocketing up out of the hospital bed, his hand snaps out to removes the nasal cannula in his nose & pull out the iv, head snapping around the room wildly while he attempts to haul himself out of bed, his various monitors going haywire.

he doesn’t care about any of that.

where’s robby?

( johnny, vanessa & chase had to wrangle him home—pacing around the waiting room floor with slightly bloodstained clothes wouldn’t help ethan get better. )

frustratingly, he doesn’t get very far—he needs the iv, clearly, because… holy goddamn christ on burnt pita bread, his vessel feels so indescribably weak—he barely manages to roll over without blacking out again. when he feels someone’s hand press gently down against his chest, pushing him back down against the bed, he flinches & makes a panicked, strangled noise. his head immediately snaps up from the pillow to ready himself. his elbow whips out before his head can twist back around towards the source—& his attempt to elbow the assailant is blocked.

adrenaline running high, ethan rips his elbow back, immediately preparing to strike once again, silver whispering at him to aim for the septum. he quickly adjusts the angle of his elbow accordingly, locking eyes with the assailant, then—

he freezes, dark brown eyes widening as they eyes land on mr. larusso sitting in the plastic chair, which had been pulled up to his bedside. his heart rate monitor spikes again, but he doesn’t relax, even as he slowly—maybe too slowly—drops his elbow, his hands resting at his sides. his chest heaves slightly with adrenaline & panic. he can’t talk for a few moments.

❝ mr. larusso..? ❞ ethan asks weakly, stunned. his mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton, rough from disuse. ❝ shit, i’m so sorry! ❞ he blurts out, clearly distressed that he almost elbowed him in the face. holy shit. sam would have been so mad at him. the next four questions come tumbling out of his lips, rapid-fire:

❝ where’s cobra kai? ❞ he remembers now— ❝ they… they found us while we were walking home from a date- where is robby? is he okay? mr. larusso, did you- ❞ then, he notices the sun shining outside from the open blinds behind mr. larusso’s head, & his next words die in his throat. it’s nearly the afternoon, based on the sunlight… but it’d been nighttime when robby’s bloodied hand had been in his, at like… nine pm, or something.

…has he been out for thirteen hours?

❝ …oh… ❞ ethan whispers, his voice small.

ethan wakes up to @recurrere’s daniel sitting at his hospital bedside.

[taughtdefense]

when you hear a light knock on the larusso’s front door, the dinner you’d been making for sam, icarus, charlie, robby & emma becomes semi-abandoned on the stove ( on very low heat ) in favor of answering it. the larusso’s are out for the night, going to some fancy dinner for larusso auto. apparently someone is retiring. sam, emma, robby & charlie aren’t here right now; they left a few minutes ago to the movie theater with plans on watching some hot new film. you’d told them to text you asap if they ran into cobra kai by chance. there have been… tensions lately. you don’t do well with crowds. not in this life, not in any other ones. so you, charlie & icarus opted to stay home. but then those two had to leave a few minutes after, wanting to go to browse the high-end jewelry stores for engagement rings ( on the very opposite side of the valley from the movie theater; smart play by icarus ). you weren’t caught off guard by the bombshell reveal in the slightest, because it’s something that happens throughout almost all universes ( if those three aren’t already married prior to them ) - icarus & charlie proposing to emma.

anyway, creamy chicken gnocchi is on tonight’s menu, & the kitchen smells heavenly because of it. it’s one of emma’s favorites, which she fell in love with pretty much the first time she tried it, which was a few days after you became friends for the ❛ first ❜ ( thousandth ) time. it’s pretty much become a staple meal for her, which you’re more than happy to make for her. sometimes you switch or add ingredients to keep it interesting, much to her amusement. this time around, there’s a little more heat added to the sauce, which emma loves. there’s four unopened tupperware boxes sitting atop the granite island in your kitchen - one for ciro, even though he doesn’t eat, you two have an unspoken agreement to keep up appearances. he’d probably wind up giving the tupperware to adora. the two others are for ciro to take to tory & brandon. the fourth is for scarlett.

jesus fucking christ. you’d never considered yourself to be domestic, but here you are, eldritch being & third ever thing in existence… making dinner for humans in a home, instead of slaughtering them without moving. having a crush on a human boy. first, second & your siblings would have an aneurysm trying to figure out why you’re like… that. on the opposite end of the spectrum, mom & dad would be very happy to see you acting so domestic around humans ( as opposed to all of the, uh, kidpool stuff you do with wade )… just being kind around humans… & having a crush on robby. vanessa’s been teasingly inquiring to the kid version of you about engagement rings for two weeks now. you always go bright red whenever she asks.

you wipe your hands on the dish towel, readjust your earplugs, & wander over towards the door, opening it up. your eyes widen a fraction when you see miguel, mind figuratively screeching to a halt. what the fuck is he - a member of cobra kai - doing here ? your shoulders instinctively tense up slightly as the thought to close the door in his face crosses your mind. you haven’t exactly forgiven miguel for screwing with robby’s shoulder during the all valley a few weeks ago, & cringed when you saw it happen from the audience.

for a millisecond, you briefly consider letting him in & making him sit at the table, then sending an sos text to robby & sam. they could probably get back to the larusso household before an all-out brawl happens. you versus miguel… miguel would win, simply because you’d let him, & you’re not ❛ properly trained ❜ by mr. larusso yet. you know the bare minimum of miyagi-do karate.

❝ …uh, hey, miguel. ❞ you start, cadence very awkward, ❝ if you’re looking for sam, she’s not here. you missed her. ❞ you don’t move your vessel even as your eldritch-self’s senses reach out past miguel, trying to sense other heat signatures nearby. nope. there’s nothing. so that means there’s no cobra kai students lying in wait to attack you, who is alone & ❛ defenseless ❜ against their superior karate skills. you’re keeping a lid on your powers & genuine martial arts knowledge, & you’d hate to fuck up the inexperience that you’re portraying in any way… especially by sending some kids to the hospital with a light tap. relief zips through your entire body once you realize miguel is alone, though. your eyebrows furrow slightly when you see the expression on his face.

❝ i didn't know where else to go. ❞ @recurrere replies.

you blink, but you don’t immediately invite him in. you keep your body positioned carefully in between the doorway & the inside of the larusso home. confusion paints your features as you gauge him carefully. you wonder if he’ll catch on to the fact that you don’t trust him… not like you once did. ❝ o-okay, what’s going on? …if i let you in, you’re n-not, uh, going to go all ❛ no mercy ❜ on me, are you ? ❞ given miguel’s past track record with injuring people because of that stupid fucking mindset ( robby ), you’re still hesitant to invite him inside.

[taughtdefense-a]

A conversation between @taughtranquility / @recurrere / Miguel Diaz, & Ethan Wilson, circa 4x05. This is canon for Ethan & my Miguel. Just imagine Miguel is sitting next to instead of Jeremiah, & Ethan instead of Johnny. Nadia & myself may reblog. This is part two. | Part one is here.

Ethan shakes his head. His hands curl up into fists at his sides. "That’s just it, Miggy. I’m done caring. He’s a traitor of Miyagi-Do, like Nate said. If we hadn’t been friends prior to all of this, I don’t think I’d feel as half as angry as I do. He betrayed the trust I had in him, and ruined the friendship we had." He sighs softly, and his expression becomes more miserable as he continues speaking. "I should’ve never moved to the Valley in the first place. I wouldn’t be feeling like this. This was a mistake."

"Hey, no." Miguel interjects quickly. "Don’t think that. You’re only human. Burying your emotions like that isn’t healthy. And if it’s any consolation, I’m glad you moved here. I’m glad we met. You’re my best friend."

His words are filled with sincerity, and Ethan finally looks over at him. Miguel meets Ethan's eyes. "…That’s the thing about betrayal, Ethan. It never comes from the enemy." He murmurs, reaching over to take his hand in his own. Ethan's caught off guard to see that his expression is filled with sympathy. It’s like he knows something. Something he won’t - HE CAN’T, HE REFUSES TO! - admit aloud.

The next exhalation of breath feels like it's forced from his lungs. Ethan's completely stunned into silence. His best friend’s words play on an agonizing loop in his head.

BETRAYAL NEVER COMES FROM THE ENEMY.

[taughtdefense-a]

A conversation between @taughtranquility / @recurrere / Miguel Diaz, & Ethan Wilson, circa 4x05. This is canon for Ethan & my Miguel. Just imagine Miguel is sitting next to Ethan instead of Jeremiah, & Ethan instead of Johnny. Nadia & myself may reblog. This is part one. | Part two is here.

Miguel sits down next to Ethan, looking at the taller boy in concern. Ethan has his earplugs in his ears, but his sunglasses are off for the moment. The case is sitting on the ground next to him. They're both sitting outside of Miguel's apartment, with their backs pressed against the wall next to the Diaz's apartment door. After causing two incidences, Ethan had abruptly abandoned Miyagi-Do practice early in a hurry. Miguel took it upon himself to go after his best friend, to make sure he was okay. It's something Ethan silently appreciates. He'd have done the same for Miguel, or Icarus, or Hawk.

"Hey, Eth."

Ethan doesn't mind the nickname; Miguel is one of the people who can use it whenever he wants. Emma, Talia, Hawk, Charlie & Sam are the others. His parents, too, obviously. Ethan even gave Robby permission to use the nickname, too. Ethan has no interest in being within a ten mile radius of his ex-best friend anymore.

"...Hey." Is what Ethan mumbles instead. His voice is weak.

"Are you okay?"

The brunet scoffs lightly, crossing his arms over his chest. Like a light switch, his look of guilt is replaced with frustration. "Christ." He grumbles in exasperation, dragging a hand down his face. "Everyone keeps asking me that. I’m okay. Really."

"You don’t have to do that, dude." Miguel begins quietly.

"Do what?" Ethan responds, keeping his tone flat, pretending like he doesn't know what Miguel is referring to. He's not stupid. Miguel knows he isn't. Still, though, the other boy sighs softly. This version of Ethan isn't the same one Miguel knows like the back of his hand. Understandably, he's concerned. Sometimes, he wishes his best friend didn't close himself off, like he's doing right now. Distance himself emotionally. It's something Miguel noticed he's been doing a lot, lately. It's some type of defense mechanism.

"Lie to me, so I don’t have to worry about you. You lashed out at Sensei LaRusso, dude. You hurt Icarus during sparring, too. Even though neither of those things are something you’d ever do if you weren’t hurting. I'm just... All of us are worried about you."

"I’ll apologize to both of them later." He laughs weakly, pushing a hand through his hair. The laugh sounds more like a sob. Miguel's heart breaks in his chest. He didn't realize how badly Ethan was hurting until this very second. He had a feeling that it was bad, but he didn't understand. It makes him angry. Angry at Robby, angry at Cobra Kai, & Kreese, & that new Sensei, Terry Silver. "I didn’t mean to hurt Icarus." Ethan whispers, his voice so small and so unlike him. It makes Miguel want to hug him. "I just seem to keep fucking up."

Ethan sighs heavily, looking away from Miguel. His shoulders tremble with a sob he forces back. Miguel flinches. "I hate myself for getting so attached to people so quickly. I fucking hate the karate war. It’s only making everything worse."

"Icarus will be fine." He responds gently, placing a hand on Ethan's shoulder. Ethan still doesn't look at Miguel. "He’s tough. Emma & Charlie already forgave you for accidentally hurting their husband, I just know it. I'm sure he did, too. And you’re hurting. It’s normal for someone to lash out like that when they’re hurting. ...Robby hurt you by joining Cobra Kai, didn't he?"

Ethan's next exhale dies somewhere in his chest, & he still refuses to make eye contact with Miguel, who doesn't look away from him. It looks like Ethan's been sucker-punched in the gut. He reaches up to fiddle absentmindedly with the earplugs in his ears. Miguel knows that that's a nervous habit. "...Yeah. I told him I was in his corner, and… and then he just spits in my face. Like that didn’t mean anything to him. Like… I don’t know. Like I... like I don’t mean anything to him." There are tears in Ethan’s eyes. He doesn’t blink them away. "…I fucking hate him."

Oh. ...Oh.

Miguel doesn't look away from Ethan, simply absorbing his words. As soon as he says he hates Robby, it seems like something clicks in his head - like a missing puzzle piece finally found its home. Ethan doesn't want to read his mind, fearing that the truth will crush him, so he doesn't. He gently bumps Ethan’s shoulder with his arm. The other boy doesn't look over at him, but he does blink rapidly, trying to make the tears go away by sheer force of will. It doesn't work. A few tears slip down Ethan's face. He makes no move to wipe them away.

"I don’t think you really mean that." Miguel murmurs, keeping his tone as soothing as he can manage. "And I don’t think Robby's fully himself, anymore. It’s something Cobra Kai does. It turns you into some dark, empty version of yourself. Look at what I did to Robby during the first All Valley. During the school fight, too." Ethan sighs softly, grimacing. He remembers both incidents vividly. Sometimes he wishes he didn't. Miguel still feels so incredibly guilty over that. "If I could take everything back, I would. I know that he & I haven’t ever seen eye to eye with each other, but… you can’t give up on him. I won't let you."

[taughtdefense-a]

ethan’ll admit, he’s a little nervous as he turns around to face @recurrere. his body language has shifted from calm to nervous/curious in the span of a millisecond. dark brown eyes squint at miguel curiously, tongs still in hand. the stir-fry that’s cooking in the pan behind him sizzles. ethan’s apartment’s kitchen is kind of in a chaotic state right now, much like his thoughts constantly are. the eldritch boy is trying his damndest to not immediately assume how miguel is going to react to this question, because his best friend might have a different reaction to his fiancé… when that conversation happens eventually.

❝ so, miguel… ❞ ethan begins lightly, clearing his throat. despite his slight nerves, his voice is steady ( his pitch has shifted to a slightly higher lilt, though. it gives away how he really feels ), ❝ are you… i dunno… ❞ he trails off a little awkwardly, hesitating. for the love of god, spit it out. he thinks to himself. he’d laugh if he wasn’t so fucking nervous about miguel’s reaction.

he shifts his weight slightly from one foot to the other, trying to think about how to say his next words as casually as he can. for a few seconds, he falls silent, his nerves & curiosity simultaneously rising in his chest. it shows in his eyes. the only sound in the room is the sizzling of the food in the pan.

❝ are you a little weirded out that i’m currently dating your rival? ❞ your ( newly entered, romantic ) relationship with robby hasn’t been going on for that long. it’s new, yes, but ethan’s entirely devoted to robby in a way that he’s never felt with anyone else before, in all of his lives. his love for him is stronger & than the ‘ puppy love ’ phase teenagers typically fall into upon first dating. although, ethan supposes that almost dying in robby’s arms has UNDERSTANDABLY made him skip that stage & jump STRAIGHT into love, wholeheartedly. that’s how he feels, at least. he can’t speak for robby’s feelings on that matter.

as soon as that question leaves his lips, ethan’s eyes flicker away from miguel’s face. despite his nerves, he feels a little better now that that question has been asked. it feels a like ripping off a bandaid. it’s not that he regrets kissing robby, because he doesn’t - not at all. ethan thought he was going to die in his arms — he’d refused to heal his wounds because he thought he deserved being attacked like that by silver. in some fucked up way, through all the blood & the agony & the fear, ethan thought the punishment of falling in love - of fighting for robby who didn’t give a shit about him ( at that time ) - fit the crime. the still-healing stab wound on your lower abdomen seems to ache a little bit whenever you think about silver. you’re sure it’ll scar. you’re trying not to think about him, but when he nearly killed you… that’s pretty much an impossible task.