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“Dad!”
“Sensei!”
Johnny extricated himself from Carmen’s grip just in time to brace himself for the combined hugs of Robby and Miguel. They were both talking at full speed and it took everything his bruised brain had to be able to differentiate what they were saying.
“You’re okay!”
“Silver said he was the only one left—”
“—took out Sensei Toguchi too—”
“Chozen is fine,” Johnny interjected, pointing to the ambulance the man in question was being helped into, and the group of Miyagi-Fangs that were swarming around him. Then he turned back to his boys as their first statement caught up to him. “Silver really said all that?”
Robby and Miguel nodded and Johnny pulled them into a massive hug again. “It takes more than some ponytailed loser to get rid of me. Promise.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Robby said thinly.
Johnny pulled away, rested his hands on Robby’s cheekbones, and looked his son straight in the eye. “I promise.”
“Johnny!”
He barely had time to release Robby before Daniel was thumping his shoulder. “You son of a bitch, you did it!”
Johnny grabbed Daniel’s hand, clasped it, and pulled him into a hug. “You too, from the looks of it.”
Daniel nodded. “No more looking over our shoulders at every turn.”
Johnny grinned, splitting open his lip again. “I’ll drink to that.”
“Daniel-san!”
Their little group turned around to find Chozen, who had been treated with pressure bandages already spotting with new blood, making his way out of the ambulance.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Daniel asked, hurrying over to try to stop him, but Chozen pushed his hands aside and landed fairly steadily on the ground.
“Ambulance for sicker people than I,” he said, nodding firmly.
“He won’t let us take him, and he’s technically lucid enough that I can’t make him,” the EMT explained.
“Must help other people,” Chozen said, patting the EMT on the hand. “Daniel-san will drive.”
The EMT scrubbed at his eyes and exhaled resignedly. “Straight to West Valley, then? I’ll call ahead.”
“You’re sure?” Daniel asked Chozen, who headed for the limo without responding, Robby and Miguel sliding in behind him just in case he would need their help.
“To West Valley,” Daniel then said, eyeing Johnny and Barnes. “For all of us.”
It didn’t escape Carmen’s notice how Johnny didn’t fill out any paperwork for himself at the hospital. It was all “What’s your birthday, man?” and “What blood type?” while he trailed behind the staff, brandishing a clipboard with Chozen’s intake paperwork, while they tried desperately to put pressure on Chozen’s wounds.
It was only once Chozen had been admitted to a private examination room that one of the nurses asked if Johnny had been triaged yet.
“No,” he'd quickly replied. “I’m fine.”
“If you were in the same fight that man was, I highly recommend being seen.”
“I’m fine,” Johnny repeated. Then he cleared his throat quickly but with a small wince. “But thanks.”
The nurse nodded somewhat unhappily, then returned to her rounds.
Carmen didn’t have to ask why Johnny had refused treatment. As much work as he’d been putting into Ubering and other gig deals of late, money was still a very tight for both of them, and without Johnny having insurance, the cost for the ED visit would be tremendous. There were ways around the final total sure, ones she was decently familiar with being a hospital employee and someone who hadn’t always had insurance herself, but her brain was being pulled in too many different directions now to remember specific details like total deductible, or if they could be retroactive, or if Johnny and his scattered job history even qualified. It was something they were going to have to figure out before their child was born, but something Carmen did not have the mental abilities to deal with today.
Right now, Carmen’s heart ached as she saw how stiffly Johnny was moving—how he was favoring his one side. The blood he’d washed off his face did little to hide the swelling that was starting to turn purple and black. He needed to be seen to rule out internal bleeding, lacerated organs, broken bones.
I was the only one left standing.
“Maybe we can find an urgent care?” she asked under her breath as they headed out to the waiting room. But the inky blackness of the middle of the night shone through the sliding glass doors and she realized that the only ones that would be open would charge them just as much for an overnight visit.
Johnny shook his head. “It’s not worth it.”
It wasn’t fair that they had to make a choice like that, but Carmen was no stranger to the way that scale tipped. It hadn’t even been a conversation on the way over that if Miguel or Robby needed medical treatment, they’d have the priority, and Carmen and Johnny would just figure out how to afford it. Thankfully, both boys had been re-triaged in the waiting room and determined to not need treatment, and were now waiting with the rest of the dojo kids, who refused to leave until they’d heard how Sensei Toguchi was.
“It should be.”
Johnny looked over at her, his bruised face softening. “I’ll go tomorrow. Promise.”
And some of the panic Carmen hadn’t even realized was there diminished. This new life inside her, she could raise by herself—she had before—but she didn’t want to. She wanted their baby—a girl, she knew, despite Johnny insisting otherwise—to have the luxury of both parents. She wanted Johnny to continue his relationship with Miguel, for her to start to build one with Robby. The past decade or so, she hadn’t really wanted anything. Everything she’d done had been for Yaya and Miguel, carving out a better life for all of them. But this, no matter how it seemed to everyone else, this family was something she wanted, and something she was prepared to fight tooth and nail to keep.
“Okay.” Carmen then grabbed the back of Johnny’s arm and steered him toward the family bathroom. “But you’re letting me look you over.”
On a good day, he’d have risen to that challenge and made a suggestive comment, but today, he allowed himself to be silently pulled along. It was so unlike him—and Carmen hated that she had so many references for it—that some of her worry that had dissipated returned full-force. Her brain was running away with costs and bills and solutions before she forced herself to handle the immediate problem. If she determined Johnny needed care, they’d figure it out. They always did.
Carmen opened the door and pushed Johnny into the bathroom and onto the toilet. His clothes could be washed; they weren't a priority.
“I’m fine,” he protested, but it was halfhearted at best. He was visibly wearing out now, slouching, and about half a second from wilting into the sink.
“I’ll be the one to determine that,” she said before beginning her examination.
She started at his head, running her fingers through his hair, feeling for bumps or swelling on his skull. It didn’t escape her notice how he melted into her touch as she worked, leaning heavily against her body, barely making a sound. Not finding anything extremely worrisome there, Carmen moved on to with Johnny’s face. She dabbed at his reopened cuts with a damp paper towel and made him run his tongue along his teeth to see if any were broken or loose. Then she ran Johnny through as many cognition and concussion protocol tests she could remember from her schooling and Miguel’s injury before palpating the swelling and prominent bones to determine if any were broken. Finding none, she continued down to his neck, where she kept up a steady pattern of gentle circles under his jaw with one thumb to distract him while her other hand did a quick examination of his throat. Thankfully she didn’t find much bruising or trauma—Johnny had enough of that in that area without any additional help from Silver.
Then, Carmen helped Johnny pull off his shirts, the silence in the air giving way to a cacophony of hisses and grunts as they did so. His chest was a myriad of colors, which continued around to his back and left Carmen’s breath stuttering in her throat with their intensity.
I was the only one left standing.
She’d understood what that had meant in the moment, the reaction Terry had been trying to elicit, but seeing the raw damage on Johnny’s skin was another matter entirely. Rage simmered within her, boiling just under her skin, and she wished she’d taken a shot at Terry before he’d been hauled away, for what he’d done to Johnny both that night and before the All-Valley, for the trouble and stress he’d put all of them through the last eight months. At the time, however, she’d been too busy trying to frantically call Johnny or Chozen, fervently ignoring the nagging voice that was telling her he was really gone.
Johnny’s hand caught hers, jolting her out of her thoughts. “It’s all superficial,” he said gently.
“Johnny, I don’t know...” The more she saw of his injuries, the more she was starting to believe that having them looked at professionally was a cost they were going to have to handle. He’d say he didn’t need it, he never did, but her expertise was only x-rays, not internal or emergency medicine, which was what most of this was. And after the emotional whiplash of the last few hours, that cost of peace of mind was becoming more and more acceptable to her.
“Hey.” Johnny’s face, earnest and bruised, moved into Carmen’s line of sight. “I’m okay, I promise. I’m fine for the night, and I’ll get seen tomorrow.”
“Johnny… I don’t—”
“Listen, if you find something, I’ll go right now. If not, we’ll wait.” It had been the unspoken agreement until now, but something about him verbalizing it, the implicit and open trust in her and her skills, that calmed her brain slightly.
Carmen pulled in a long breath then leaned down and continued her examination. A few of Johnny’s ribs had more give in them than she’d like, but it was the serious swelling over his lower back gave her additional pause.
“That bad, huh?” Johnny asked, trying to look over his shoulder and failing.
“Well, it’s certainly not good.” Carmen let her fingers ghost over the deep bruises one last time, noting the lack of distention or excessive heat, then came around to Johnny’s front again, lingering over his heart. “We’ll just have to keep an eye on it tonight.”
She took his wrist then, inspecting the bruised and split knuckles and determining none were broken, before flipping his hand over and taking his pulse. It was faster than she’d like, which would be normal until he’d fully come down from his adrenaline rush, but it was steady and regular and strong.
Which left only his lower body.
Carmen went for his belt buckle so she could help him remove his pants. That got a reaction out of Johnny: a lopsided smirk, quirked eyebrow, and a comment she wouldn’t be repeating, all of which were so more in-character than the silence of before, and reassured Carmen more than she’d care to admit.
Pulling in a more relaxed breath, she crouched down to get a better angle of the damage to Johnny's lower body. The second she did so though, Johnny’s expression sharpened. “Should you be doing that? Here.” He moved to stand up from the toilet, but Carmen placed her hands on his thighs, holding him there.
“Johnny, I’m fine,” she said, just as her knees began to ache slightly from their cramped position. “But the less you protest, the faster we can get this over with,” she amended, adjusting slightly and dropping one knee to the ground.
Johnny stilled immediately, allowing her to complete her exam in relative haste.
“Am I going to live?” he asked when she was done, one corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
Standing fully, Carmen wrapped her hands around his opposite shoulder, pulling him close, finally allowing herself to believe that he was going to be alright despite what Silver had said. Johnny leaned into her touch, resting his head against her hip while his breath ghosted against her stomach.
“You’d better.” Carmen swallowed hard then continued, “We’ll ice and have you take some painkillers tonight, but you will go to urgent care first thing.”
Johnny nodded, sagging more heavily into her.
She looked down at him and lifted one hand to card through his hair.
“Johnny, I know this isn’t the time for this, but—”
“You need me to get a job.”
“Yes.” Carmen hated bringing it up with so much else going on, but the more the night progressed, the easier she knew some of it would have been with two incomes and two sets of insurance, one for each boy. Carmen was paying into it through her job, so Miguel would have been covered somewhat, but the coverage wasn’t great, and the deductible, especially after Miguel’s injury, was astronomical. Robby would have been in the same situation as Johnny, as far as she knew, something they'd have had to figure out in the moment and pay for later.
But then she had a vague recollection of saying something similar to Hector once she’d found out she was pregnant, and the bitter taste of how he reacted once again rolled through her mouth.
“You don’t have to give up karate,” she continued. “But we need something more stable… You can still teach after work or on weekends. You shouldn’t have to give that up. In fact, I really don’t want—”
“Carmen, breathe.”
Realizing just how quickly she had been talking, Carmen did as Johnny asked, pulling in a few deep breaths. Then she looked down to see him craning his neck up at her, looking as serious as she’d ever seen him. Her stomach sank, and she braced herself to see the same reaction she had eighteen years ago.
“I’m already looking,” Johnny said. “Miguel got me set-up on that online job-hunting website. Apparently I need a resume? I don’t think I’ve had one of those in a couple decades, but there’s a class at the library—”
He was still speaking, but Carmen was no longer listening. Johnny was willing, Johnny was trying. That was more than Hector ever had been.
She kissed him, hard, hearing the breath whoosh out of his lungs as their lips collided.
“We’ll work on it together,” she said as she pulled away, feeling more of that knot of worry inside her beginning to unravel.
“Together,” Johnny repeated, with a stunned nod. Then he wrapped his arms around Carmen and held her close for a long few minutes.
Carmen wanted to stay like that for longer—safe, warm, breathing—but a different sort of unease was building in her: a need to check on Miguel and make sure that he was alright even after the adrenaline had worn off.
“Johnny, we should check on the kids,” Carmen said gently as she began to extract herself from his hold.
Johnny groaned, then began to leverage himself upright using the sink for support. Once he was there, Carmen slid under that arm for support, holding his left hand to her far hip as they exited the bathroom.
Miguel was coming down the hallway, Robby not far behind him. Their faces flashed in joint disgust as they saw both adults leaving the family bathroom.
“It wasn’t like that,” Johnny was quick to say. “Carmen was just checking me over.”
There was something about the way both of them understood without further explanation that tugged painfully at Carmen’s heart. She was going to fight with everything she had left in her to make sure they didn’t have to be so comfortable with those ideas.
“Can I talk to you, mamá?” Miguel asked, pulling Carmen from her thoughts. “Alone?” He shot a glance at Robby, who nodded. Without another word, he slipped under Johnny’s arm and began helping his father limp toward the waiting room.
“Are you okay?” Carmen asked instantly.
Miguel nodded. “But Tory isn’t. I think her hand is broken, but she’s refusing to get it looked at.”
“Is she here?”
Miguel nodded again. “She came to check on Sensei Toguchi.”
It was complicated, Carmen and Tory. They’d never actually met, but Tory was someone Miguel had dated for however brief a time. She’d ended up starting the school fight, which had ultimately led to his injury, but she’d also apparently put herself in a great deal of danger in order to take Silver down. In the end Carmen decided those sorts of thoughts could be put off until tomorrow. For now, a child was hurt, and she was in a position to help.
Carmen raised herself on her tiptoes and kissed the side of Miguel’s head. “Let’s go see what we can do.”
As they walked back to the waiting room, she spared a look at Robby and Johnny, making sure they were both seated and stable, before making her way to where Tory was sitting, alone and a few banks of seats over.
She shot upright as she spotted Carmen. “I knew I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry, Ms. Diaz. I’ll go.”
“Stay, please,” Carmen said, Miguel behind her in unison echoing something similar.
Tory nodded uneasily, then lowered herself back into the chair. Even from here, Carmen could see the gashes on Tory’s knuckles and the purple tones to her swollen fingers. Tory had the brace on way too tight, probably to provide the support her broken bones were lacking.
“Did you have your hand looked at?” Carmen asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Tory shook her head vehemently and pulled her arm closer to her chest, which told Carmen everything she needed to know about whether she was seriously injured or not. “It’s fine.”
“You know, it’s okay to ask for help,” Carmen said, taking a seat in the same row as Tory, but leaving one empty chair between them. “It’s hard and uncomfortable, even, but we all need it sometimes.”
“It's not that easy.”
“No, it's not. But doesn’t change anything about how strong or independent we are, or make us any less qualified to do the things we do.”
Tory looked at Carmen for a long moment, then turned her gaze to the ground where she intently eyed the intersection of two tiles. “It doesn’t matter,” she said softly. “I—I mean, we can’t afford it anyway.”
“Then we’ll help you figure it out. There are programs you can apply for—” Programs they’d be getting Johnny on until he’d found a job of his own “—and many other ways to make the payments more manageable. But if the bones in your hand don’t heal right, you’re limiting its use for the rest of your life,” Carmen explained gently. “That needs to be your priority right now, Tory. The rest we can figure out once that’s taken care of.”
Tory’s gaze shot up from the ground, looking Carmen straight in the eye. “Why would you do that? After what I did?” Her expression was hard, all angles, as if daring Carmen to refute her statement.
“Because you deserve to have full use of your hand for the rest of your life. We don't need tonight to be more scarring than it already is.”
Tory’s expression faltered and in that moment, she looked so much younger than her age that it tore at Carmen’s heartstrings.
“Please let her help you, Tor,” Robby said, appearing suddenly over Carmen's shoulder. “Just this once.”
Tory’s face fractured and she stared at the tiled floor for a long moment. When she looked up again, she nodded uncertainly and allowed Carmen to lead her to the intake desk, towing Robby along for support.
Once Tory had been dispatched to fill out her paperwork, Carmen headed back to where Johnny and Miguel were sitting. Miguel was keeping up a steady flow of conversation while Johnny tried vainly to stay awake. His legs fully extended and arms interlaced over his chest, he’d already shifted down in the seat so his head was resting along the top of the chair, which wasn’t going to do his bruised back any favors tomorrow.
“Gracias, mamá,” Miguel said, tilting his head at Tory.
Carmen paused briefly to whisper back “De nada,” before running her hands down the sides of Miguel's uninjured face and kissing the top of his forehead. Then, she took the seat next to Johnny and gently reached around to his opposite shoulder, pulling him into her side.
Johnny’s eyes opened, bleary but brief, and he slipped back in the chair enough that he could rest his head on her shoulder. His breaths were uneven and raspy, no doubt due to his cracked ribs, but Carmen was comforted by the soft puffs of air against her collarbone as he drifted off to sleep.
They sat like that for hours, with Miguel only stepping down the hallway when he received a call from an irate and worried Yaya and Robby rejoining their little group once Tory had been taken back, waiting for news about their friends.