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Like everything with Johnny, the chop shop rumble was exhausting and exhilarating all at once.
There was a more important objective here than the ‘93 Dodge, but it was hard for Daniel to remember what it was. He was too deep in the ‘or not!’ and everything after. He was trying to keep this bearded Corn Nut out of a perennial chokehold, or make sure he didn’t slip in steering fluid. This place was a death trap of OSHA violations, and Johnny was already wearing a hospital bracelet.
Sometimes they moved like a well-oiled wheel together, and sometimes they were throwing literal wrenches into each other’s brawls.
When one went low, the other went high.
One of the goons was closing in on them with a butane torch and Daniel knew what Johnny was thinking with one look. “Do not push me aga--!”
Johnny did just that and limbo-dodged the flame, then roundhoused the gearhead into a tool chest.
While Daniel marveled at that move from inside a headlock, Johnny caught the runner in the yellow raglan shirt and threw him to the floor. “The kid you got the van from. Where is he??” Johnny bellowed, slamming his head into the concrete.
“H-he was parking at the tent city on Vineland, under the overpass,” Yellow Shirt sputtered.
He dropped him and shot up with a wicked grin. “I got the tip, LaRusso, c’mo--”
“Johnny, lookout!”
Daniel side kicked the gearhead who was about to bring a sledgehammer down on Johnny’s head, flying right into the path of another goon who hoisted Daniel clear off the floor, and threw him into the car lift. Dutch had more trouble pitching a flour sack baby from health class against a locker.
Daniel heard the hydraulic hose brake when he crashed into it. The Intrepid jerked down and off the lift, pinning him underneath the front door jamb. Johnny heard a cry that rattled his bruises until it was stifled in an instant.
Johnny gasped something shrill and unintelligible.
He didn’t know where the gearheads went then. Some were passed out on the concrete, some took off. The scope of his vision eroded to only the skinny legs under the car.
Daniel’s face was visible behind the front wheel well, a black strand of hair falling across his eye. In his haze, Daniel could see Johnny’s eyes, and they were blowtorch blue with terror.
“Dammit, LaRusso, say something!--”
“...something,” was the little gurgle Daniel returned.
“Ok, ok, that’s good--breathing room!”
“.....smidge….i’m fine. Jus’a sedan.”
The car was dangling on one lift arm and Daniel was spared the full weight, but it was more than enough for his slight frame. He was deflating like Dutch’s health project. “Yeah right, this thing is a boat! I’m gonna get you out, you just hang on. People can lift cars at times like this, right? Pure adrenaline?”
Oh course Johnny had that kind of superhuman expectation for himself.“...floorjack--” Daniel sputtered.
“-o-oh, yeah. Right.” He wheeled one over like a madman. “Gonna get you out,” he chanted, like the chorus to a song under the safety of his headphones.
Things deteriorated quickly from just a sedan. Daniel’s vision was going blurry as he managed a cluster of tight, hot breaths. Leave message! echoed in his head, the sound of smashing bonsai pots and glass. This was worse than a spear across his throat. His chest was fluttering and the smallest tease was getting in, but not enough.
Johnny could hear the faint struggle, and was having his own with the lift. The car was just bouncing. “Fuck-- LaRusso??” Johnny barked as he fought to jack up the car, the giant bruise on his back pulsating with every twist. “Ah--” The tire on the lift lurched on the edge.
Johnny once had a dream that he was watching the All-Valley parking lot scene unfold, and was powerless to stop it. This was worse.
There was a strange white outline around Johnny as Daniel’s legs started to go limp. A line of blood was coming out of his nose. Every jack gave him a quarter of an inch to spare, but the punishing lack of oxygen was already taking its toll. “We fought good…” It was a creaky, pitchy noise. “...together. Sensed each oth...”
“No no no, asshole, stay with me, no speeches--”
“....john.” Daniel knew he was going to pass out, but it felt like a strange, dizzying clarity. He regretted nothing about this fight, hell--if he’d made it out of here, he never would’ve forgotten it. This wasn’t in vain, and Johnny could still find Robby in time. It didn’t matter what was said now, or if he’d even hear. Daniel closed his eyes and exhaled a tiny, crushed “.... iloveyou. ”
Johnny heard it. He could’ve heard a pin drop. His muscles chilled as he got the car raised enough to drag Daniel free, before the full weight of the engine crashed down.
Johnny fell back on the concrete right next to him, trying to let the sound of huge, ragged breathing drown out the eleventh hour words. “Fuck,” he sighed as Daniel trembled for an ounce of strength back. “It’s gonna be okay.” He was breathing heavily too, mostly with relief, but now he had to see the damage that was done, and quickly.
He unzipped the navy bomber jacket and lifted the shirt. There was a fresh blood bruise under his ribs, and his belly was red and distended. He wiped the blood on his face away with his thumbs. Then, more gingerly than he’d ever done anything, he gathered him up in a bridal carry, trying not to fold him too tightly. “C’mon, some of the grease squad are on the loose, we gotta bail before the Audi’s on cinder blocks. Get you to the hospital,” he said as he hustled carefully for the side door.
“I-I’m aright, we gotta getrobby--”
“No! You probably have like--i-internal bleeding or something, a ruptured spleen--”
“Don’need a spleen.”
“We’re not deciding what organs to shelf right now, Daniel!”
The name shook him more than it should have, considering his confession, but Daniel didn’t remember it. He tried to piece together what had happened right before he almost passed out, but all he found was the undercarriage of a Dodge and the weight of two blue eyes.
Johnny’s hands were tight on the wheel, his eyes darting back and forth from Daniel to the windshield as they sped down the industrial road . He still had that rogue piece of hair on his forehead and Johnny wanted to smooth it back, but gripped the wheel tighter.
Just….it wasn’t possible. The L-word was obviously a...near death extreme, and he felt like an idiot for fixating on it.
But it wasn’t exactly a word that people...tossed around when it came to Johnny.
It could be dangled, easily retracted, sure.
He thought back to his dorky concern and constant touch the whole day. “God, what happened to you?” “I got you some juice. Advil’s in the glove compartment.”
Johnny was snapped out of it when he heard Daniel talking again.
“....are you okay? You kept punching with your bandaged hand. You gotta unlearn the idea of a dominant hand with an injur—”
“Don’t try to switch the subject to me. Guaranteed you have internal bleeding and a whole lot of jam in the lemonade.”
“...a lotta...what?”
“Oh, I’m sorry--organic jam. Whatever.”
“Look, there’s gotta be a compromise,” Daniel groaned, his arms folded over his stomach. “Just get me a bag of ice, we’ll get Robby, then I’ll get checked out?” he said, his voice tipping into a question.
“A.vee.hicle.fell.on.you,” Johnny hissed. “And don’t give me that ‘it was just a sedan’ shit.”
“Look...you apply striking first to every possible situation except Robby. I’m not gonna let you choose me over him, of all people.”
“...of all people,” Johnny muttered. “Right.”
Daniel closed his eyes, keeping a strained noise low. “Wha?”
“You don’t remember what you said, do you, LaRusso?” He looked through Daniel’s empty gaze. “I mean, obviously not. Whatever. Just delirious stuff anyway.”
“No. Tell me. What’s the point of going through all this if there’s secrets?”
The first part, at least, didn’t make him feel like puking as much as the other part. “That like, it was ‘an honor fighting with me’ like some string quartet loser on the Titanic.”
“Johnny, I...I thought I was gonna--”
“I know what you thought, alright? Maybe I was guilty you ended up there for watching my back. ”
“I’d do it again. That dude was swingin’ a sledgehammer at—“
“Well, my damn head’s harder than your little chicken body. You were a projectile! What did Casey Kasem used to say--”
“Oh, for God’s sa--”
“Keep your feet on the ground!”
Daniel’s brow sank. “...Aand...keep reaching for the stars.”
“That’s lame. Just remember the first part.”
Daniel rolled his eyes. “Yeah? Then how would you keep pushing me?”
“I meant anchor your feet against them, not me. I’m still gonna decide whether you’re in or out. Suck it.”
There was road noise silence again.
“Johnny...you should know that...even though I didn’t want to start poundin’ on those guys, I trusted you once I crossed that threshold. You…...saved my life, man.” He wasn’t sure how adding “man” made it easier to mutter.
“ ...I guess I can say the same.” Not saying that part at all was even easier.
Johnny stared at the road and listened to Daniel’s nose whistling. He swerved a little when he felt Daniel’s hand on his shoulder.
“We do make a good team.”
Johnny looked at the soft hand, then the dog-eyes attached to it. “I guess the sweep and roundhouse combo was...okay.”
“Okay ?” Daniel snickered. “We flipped that guy like a pancake.”
“Don’t insult pancakes like that,” Johnny sighed. “Look...if you trusted me, then I can trust you to do this your way, for now . We’ll find Robby first.”
“Okay,” Daniel lit up weakly, squeezing Johnny’s shoulder before letting go.
“Knowing him, he was probably letting people sleep in the van at Tent City. When it got bogarted, I’m sure they returned the favor. He makes friends pretty easily.”
“Totally,” Daniel sighed, feeling more Valley than usual all of a sudden.
Johnny stopped at Circle K for a bag of ice. Daniel cringed as he saw the size of the bag coming at him through the open passenger window. “This was the smallest one they had. You ready?” He let the bag down more gently than he knew he could, reading every blooming line on Daniel’s face. “That okay?”
Daniel was distracted by how a beard and bloodied face could make a person look gentler. “Uh--yeah,” he blinked.
Johnny took off the red hoodie and blanketed it over his chest. “Wait, it’s got some stuff in it,” he shrugged, fishing everything out of the pockets. Scratch-off tickets, more Corn Nuts, a lint-covered mint, (he thumbed it off and put the mint in his dry mouth) Dr. Nguyen’s stethoscope--
“The hell are you doin’ with that?” Daniel shrugged.
“Uh—it’s for my car.”
“Really. Where’s the probe?”
“OK, fine, I almost pretended to be a doctor to see Miguel. Almost, so keep your comments to yourself.” He went around and plopped in the driver’s seat, looking the steth over. “Maybe I should...check you out. With this,” he added quickly.
The thought of Johnny dressed up as a shiner-eyed doctor gave Daniel a sudden rush of warmth and terror. “Knowing what to listen for would be a plus.”
“For something that sounds wrong, duh.” Johnny put in the earbuds and Daniel stiffened against his seat. “What.”
“Ya’ look like a serial killer—“
Ignoring him, he shoved the disc down Daniel’s shirt collar.
“Ah!--It’s colder than the damn ice--”
“Quiet,” Johnny said, although much quieter than usual. He found the spot where the muscle was closest to the skin. His hand went flatter over the disc and Daniel could feel the heat of the calloused skin overpowering the cold, and looked away. Without being asked, he took a few deep breaths through his mouth. We sensed each other, Johnny recalled with a wince. No broken ribs, that was good.
“Sounds pretty metal, actually” Johnny snickered, making devil horns with his other hand. With uncommon concentration, he listened to the thumps, strong and scrappy against his eardrums.
His face was closer than when he’d leaned over to talk into the steering wheel.
When Daniel’s gaze fell back to his, the thudding in Johnny’s ears got faster.
Johnny remembered the satisfaction of Daniel’s heart pounding when he dragged him off the chain link fence, and into his lycra body. You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you, you little twerp?
No matter how you sliced it, manhandling and nurturing had the same intimacy. The same proximity to the heart.
Johnny’s contentment was from the mere sound of life now, and Daniel’s heart was clomping from a very different kind of vulnerability.
No, you had to push it.
“Johnny, I…I appreciate you bein’ so...” His lost words on the garage floor were spelled out in the beats as they looked each other over, their lips parted. Daniel tongued his lip, the kicks of his heart as loud in his ears as they were in Johnny’s.
Johnny ripped the earbuds out and blinked at the ring he’d left on Daniel’s chest from the pressure. “Um--you’re right, I don’t know what the hell to listen for,” he said, but he knew full well what he’d found.
They pulled up to Tent City slowly, looking around for a set of wildfire green eyes. (Daniel was down with GoT, so) No matter how much he might’ve altered his appearance, they’d give Robby away from any distance.
Johnny looked around, but all he saw was Daniel suddenly dozing under the red hoodie. “Hey hey hey. Don’t, ” he grumbled, shaking his shoulder.
"C’maan, I let you sleep.”
“I had a hangover, not a two ton chick riding me. You’re staying awake because I say so. Don’t make me pour that green stuff down your throat.”
“Where’s the kale juice?” he groaned softly. “I want the kale juice.”
Johnny grabbed it out of the console and passed it to him. They froze as their fingers met, until Johnny’s thumb traced up and down quickly.
“Th-thankyou,” Daniel shivered, putting his window down. “Let’s just drive up and down here for a feel. T-to get a feel for the area. That’s actually a really nice tent. Aherm." He chugged the juice.
Johnny cringed as he looked out his open window, tapping his head against the frame a little. Why couldn’t someone have been wailing on a car horn when Daniel uttered those words? He couldn’t stop going over and over it. Well, maybe the trauma part had something to do with that, but...he couldn’t take those words lightly. It wouldn’t have mattered if they’d come out of an 80-year old clown with alcohol poisoning--he’d probably hold whoever it was to it.
Undeniably, it was the first time he’d heard it in years.
His kid sure as hell wasn’t going to say it anytime soon. And apparently he didn’t always know when Shannon was faking.
You said you love me, Shit-for-Brains, he wanted to say. What are you gonna do about it?
Just then, Johnny slowed their crawl to a stop.
He saw Robby from the back.
He had the same terrible bowl-cut that Shannon’s mother gave him once, that revealed the mole on the back of his neck. “I’m an expert in mole astrology, y’know, ” Candy Keene said. “Back of the neck means a person is easy to anger.”
The one time that crazy bat was right.
Robby sure as hell was going to blow up and run if he called out, but Johnny couldn’t find it in him to be discreet. “Robby??!”
He whipped around and scowled, but he didn’t run. They looked at each other and as his expression softened, Johnny suddenly wasn’t sure if he was ten feet away or two.
Daniel could feel Johnny’s apprehension in the air as he waited to see what the boy would do. It felt like the weight of the car all over again. As Johnny leaned out the window, his shapeless T-shirt hitched up in the back to reveal a purple bruise the size of a continent. Daniel gasped and swooned a little. Robby’s disappearance had done all this to Johnny, and watching him wait for an answer was absolutely agonizing.
Robby came closer.
“...what the hell are you guys doing? What happened to your face?”
“Applebee’s.”
Robby’s eyes went wide as his attention turned to Daniel. “And what happened to you, Golden Corral?”
Daniel was pale and trembling. “...no, i’m ok...we found you. Thank god we found you...” he managed. His head swimming, he thought about the massive bruise again and like a welcome catharsis, he threw up kale juice in Johnny’s lap.
Johnny froze, feeling like he was in The Exorcist, but all he could conjure from his own lips was a hushed “Oh no” when he saw the juice was tinged with blood.
:... sorry,” Daniel moaned into his bomber sleeve. “Couldn’keep it down.”
“Is-is he..drunk, Dad?”
Johnny, who’d thrown up at the sight of other people throwing up for as long as he could remember, was cool and collected. He didn’t want Robby to carry one more burden. “Nah, a car fell on him, but you know LaRusso, he takes everything like a champ.”
“What?!” Robby cringed, fingers clenching his hair.
“Jump in the back, I’ll explain everything on the way to the hospital.”
It wasn’t lost on him that his son voluntarily got into a car that smelled like an Armageddon farmer’s market.
“I’m glad you trusted me, Johnny...but I think I was wrong…” Daniel groaned, blood trailing down the corner of his mouth.
“No you weren’t. You’re gonna be okay,” Johnny said softly. He took the red hoodie back, casually draping it over the chunks in his lap.
“....it hurts.”
“Then spread the wealth. Make my hand hurt just as bad, ok?” He offered his bandaged hand, elbow on the center console like an invite to arm wrestle. “It feels like shit anyway.”
Robby nearly went cross-eyed at the sight of their hands clenched like Thelma and Louise about to drive into the Grand Canyon. Suddenly he didn’t feel like the only fugitive.
Johnny was in a Groundhog Day of hospitals as he and Robby sat in the waiting room. You have to be okay. You said you love me. You’re a severely endangered species.
Robby chose his words carefully, plagued by the fact that the boy who went over the railing was on another floor. “....is Miguel ok…?”
“I heard he’s awake now. That’s...probably all I'm gonna hear for a while. His mom doesn’t exactly want me there.”
“....so... I was the reason you and Mr. LaRusso called a truce?”
“He was the one who came to me,” Johnny admitted softly.
“Well, it was up to you to actually say yes.”
Johnny remembered Daniel in the apartment courtyard, waiting for his answer. He couldn’t even remember his affirmation—only Daniel’s doofy smile afterward.
“I hope he’s okay,” Johnny breathed, and didn’t realize he’d said it out loud until Robby nodded. “Look… blame me for this. I started the rumble at the garage.”
“But you aced the follow-through for once.”
“Yeah. Guess so.”
Johnny fiddled with his own hospital bracelet. They talked for what seemed like a long time, at least in interminable waiting room time.
“...I think a GED is the way to go,” Johnny said, popping Corn Nuts. “The only teachers I ever liked were the ones who pointed at the board with their middle finger, man. Always held my attention.”
“Right?” Robby chuckled. “And you never know if they’re doing it on purpose.”
“We’ll never know. It’s one of life’s great mysteries.”
Robby sighed. “So...are we gonna keep beating around the topic of me turning myself in, or what…”
“Nah, I’ll leave that up to Daniel. I wanna be the good guy in all this.”
The sound of the boy’s laugh was medicinal.
“Mr. Lawrence?”
Johnny shot to his feet, afraid of the doctor’s unreadable face as she approached. “This better be good news, or I’m gonna…” He couldn’t find an end to that sentence.
“He’s okay. A small incision and some electrical currents sealed the hemorrhaging. There’s a lot of angry bruising, but mostly a bruised ego.”
Johnny sighed so hard the doctor's hair was caught in the updraft. “Sounds about right.”
“Nothing some visitors won’t fix. How about you come and see your partner?”
“Oh, he told you about the Tango and Cash thing, huh?”
Robby winced. “Dad, I think she means—“
“Yeah, what can I say, we’re partners,” Johnny grinned. “You should see us in action.”
“Dad, context is everything here—“
He gave up and just let him ramble on as they followed the doctor down the hallway. “ “…I pushed into him and he went crazy, and it went from there. It was a tight situation. Real intense. This is my son, by the way--well, he’s kinda like Daniel’s kid too….”
Daniel tried to take it easy for the next few weeks, but there was so much going on. He and Johnny appeared at Robby’s hearing, and leniency came with turning himself in, as well as a merciful letter from Miguel. Now, all that was left to do was wait two months and take Bobby to dinner a lot for all the clergy escorts.
When Daniel almost got killed on the mission Amanda had strongly urged against, tension overshadowed their days.
The lengths he and Johnny went to for each other were singular.
The dealership would survive, but Daniel was sleeping at Miyagi-Do more and more until they admitted that everything outside the business was falling apart.
When Daniel asked Johnny to teach with him, Amanda knew that was the only topic she was ever going to hear about again, which she could live with, as long as she didn't have to compete with it.
Johnny showed up at Miyagi-Do one Saturday to find Daniel rolling out from under the Nash.
“Wow. Keep showin’ up early like this and I’m gonna find other shit for you to do,” Daniel chuckled. “Hand me that wrench?”
Johnny rolled his eyes and did as he was told, crouching down as Daniel shifted back under the car. “You’re using jack stands, I hope.”
“Of course. Why, you nervous?”
“Just surprised you’d want to be under a car right now.”
Daniel rolled out, looking up with warm eyes. “Hey….it’s alright. This is one of my favorite places to be, and...the good parts of that day far outweigh the bad. When I think about it, I….”
Johnny just nodded, his face flush as he scratched his collarbone under his gi. “So, have you been doing your homework? Grounding yourself?”
“Even better. I’m seeing a Reiki master who’s been teaching me how to give the soles of my feet enhanced sensory awareness.”
"Oh God. I think I’m gonna puke in your lap.”
“C’maan, help me up, I’ll show ya’ the technique.” He extended a hand and Johnny looked at it for a moment, the silent manifestation of “So...what d'ya say?” The answer would never be in doubt.
Johnny raised an eyebrow, clasping it tightly and yanking him into his chest. “How do you like that technique?”
Daniel’s breathing kicked up as he tried to hold back the drunk-looking grin spreading across his face. “Uh...I gotta say, I do feel pretty grounded .. .”
Johnny could feel Daniel’s heart competing with his own and pressed his hand against it. Before, he felt like Daniel’s garage floor words were wasted because he didn’t remember them, but they were just words--meaningless. The message came through silently every day, in a helpless smile, a corrected form, juice and Advil.
Johnny had finally mustered up the courage to do what he was about to do.
He cupped Daniel’s face in his hands and didn’t have to strike, because Daniel eagerly closed the space himself, almost springing up to meet him. Johnny’s laughter filled his mouth as he imagined this as a movie scene, the camera dolly whirling around them. It wasn’t how Tango and Cash ended, but it was a beginning.