Chapter Text
It's probably a good thing that it's dark. The lights of this dance bar/club place are those low hanging tinted ones, purple and blue and yellow to lend ambiance or something.
Whatever it is, Johnny Lawrence blesses it. Because he knows he can't dance worth a shit, and of fucking course Daniel LaRusso is here - and he's great at it. Little twerp acting like he isn't trying to show off as he's smiling, swinging hips back and forth, working feet to this, actually it's a pretty solid song by Springsteen. Seems like it's made for the guy's moves, although the lyrics kinda speak to Johnny.
'I get up in the evening and I ain't got nothin' to say.
I come home in the mornin', I go to bed
feelin' the same way.
I ain't nothin' but tired- man, I'm just tired and bored with myself...
Hey there baby
I could use just a little help
You can't start a fire
You can't start a fire without a spark...'
Only difference is, Johnny sure isn't looking for help from anyone, he can deal with his own shit. Has to now, without karate. For him standing alone in the dark makes sense, as much as him drinking or smoking dope ever did. Doesn't explain what's got him watching LaRusso dance in this little club, much less why - oh shit, he's moving
It looks like he's with a girl, she's kinda cute -has curly reddish brown hair, and what is it with this guy and girls with curls? Johnny thinks about Ali, suddenly, but it isn't as painful now as it's been before. He guesses since it's been almost a year he's entitled to get over her. So in that case why's he still hung up on LaRusso?! Guy isn't even with Ali anymore either - based on prom night, although who knows how smart he actually got, unless he's decided to hang up karate too. Doesn't need to fight in another All Valley tournament if Johnny isn't, right? Because of course it was all about him going after the guy in the first place. Johnny realizes he's glaring, but it's because of his own shit and now he's hearing - why does it sound like the start of a fight?
His gaze is rising up and now he sees some pasty guy with brown hair trying to grab the girl who's with LaRusso. She's saying nah, she's not into it, but he's not getting the memo, and LaRusso turns and says something to him.
Johnny expects it to be easy, to see a smile or hear parta that slightly awkward smoothness Daniel has- well it's not smooth, it's more - earnest. That's what LaRusso is. The way he's always been.
"Okay, man. Now we're even, huh?" He expects a handshake, or at least a nod if not a smile. May be used to the guy's way about him, somehow - Johnny doesn't even know why he is, or would be - but something's off, because as Johnny keeps on looking, he can tell this mook isn't taking 'no' for an answer.
And he's not the only person watching, he can tell, there's an older guy clocking it. He's tall, slim but built, with broad shoulders and black hair in a ponytail like some fuckin hippie.
But he's got this look on his face that is very not hippie. No free love, more free beat downs. It makes Johnny think of Kreese. It's ... calculating. And then he nods, and even in the low light, Johnny sees it's directed at the shithead who's cutting in, and he starts to move. It's all happening and not that he's one to pick up on shit in order to stop trouble, It's that he knows how to strike first.
Because he did that, had to do it for years. It's not just that though; Johnny also knows very well the look of someone who's learned- or learning- to strike first. And he sees that type 'a tension in LaRusso's stance. His stiff shoulders, the way his head snaps, eyes burn and show everything he's feeling - they're hard, angry. Light like mud instead of the wet chocolate brown that he could always almost lose himself in - wait.
What?
Shut the fuck up, Johnny tells his brain just as Daniel hauls off and punches this goofy cut-in guy in the face.
"Daniel, what's wrong with you?" gasps the girl, and it's with genuine horror, Johnny can tell- rather than that fake scared, scandalized stuff Ali would pull.
"Jessica, I didn't-" those eyes are liquid again, seem scared as he blurts "I'm sorry," at the guy who's cupping his now-bleeding nose- and LaRusso is offering to pay for any medical bills like he actually has money, "I'm- jeez, I'm really sorry, hang on, I'll-" and then - then here comes hippie guy looking like he's a Bond villain or something. Like he knows LaRusso well enough to slide up and cup a hand around the back of his neck as he leans in- over the guy, too, in this weird possessive way- and Johnny isn't having that.
"Get your hand off him, dickhead," it's automatic, the fact he's striding forward. Johnny squares up and shifts into a ready stance, arms prepared to strike and block- at least if he has to. Karate instinct isn't gone just because he's not in the dojo, he thinks almost sardonically.
Spinning about less even like a snake than something almost mechanical, inhuman, there's a manic sort of light, a gleam, in this hippie's eyes as he says
"Now what's this, do I have to be your mother and fight another kid off for you, Danny boy?"
LaRusso's haunted, dark eyes are still big and scared. Johnny doesn't like that. The stubborn little twerp shouldn't be scared of some ponytailed freak... Not my LaRusso, Johnny thinks, and then instantly adds what the fuck, brain, fight the guy in a tournament once and tell him that he's all right- and now... you're thinkin' this? What the hell.
"What, d'you think you're some strong man? Well c'mon," Is what he spits out loud however; and then, shifting, letting one fist open before clenching it shut again, shaking his head, blond bangs feathering across his forehead, Johnny looks at Daniel. "Ya actually want him on you like that, it's up to you, LaRusso," he adds.
Touching him, curving hand around his neck, it's fucking creepy. Or at least possessive, and Johnny knows the law. Don't get to be pretty in California, at least not with a douchebag stepfather, and not hear him talk about somebody catching a case. Well here comes one because this is an older dude who for sure is acting creepy as hell.
Yeah it's Daniel's choice to respond to this one, but either way, Johnny decides, he's not gonna let the guy talk to or hold onto LaRusso like that. He meets the guy's big brown eyes and hears the way he says "Johnny...," on a breath, with- is that... RELIEF? Nah, no way. Even if it is, it's probably just for an out from this weird as fuck moment with tall hippie freak. Doesn't have anything to do with Johnny other than the fact he's here. Because there's no way LaRusso would be glad to see HIM, especially since he's still looking like a deer in headlights, scared as hell.
Still, though, Johnny nods in return. He's doing something about this. "He doesn't look like he needs whatever shit you're pulling, man, so I think you should keep on walkin', go ahead'n follow your pal with the busted nose." Johnny jerks his head, eyes pale with the intensity and fury of don't fucking try it burning through their depths. The way he looked at Daniel on Halloween, almost- except there's something now in addition that seems like disgust in his eyes.
Johnny Lawrence is disgusted enough by Terry Silver to stand up to him? To fight against him- to protect Daniel LaRusso, of all people.
What whirls through Daniel's head right now, along with the horror and guilt that crushes inside his chest, is the single-word question
Why?