Chapter Text
It started with emails, and he just never expected anything so mundane. That was what caught him off guard, maybe.
His assistant Amy deleted the first one – no one who’s really a personal friend writes to Daniel at his work address, she knows that. It was only when they kept coming and got more specific that she passed one into the inbox he actually looked at (usually), with the stuff she thought he ought to see.
Daniel’s not great with emails. He’s a people person, a talker not a writer: emails always feel like homework. He gets bored reading them and the things he wants to say don’t come out right when he starts writing them down. That’s why LaRusso Auto hired someone smart to take care of it; so she can answer for him and make him sound smart written down too, and when something unexpected comes in she points it out to him and says, “This one might be a scam – maybe it’s the next gen Nigerian prince with the inheritance, I mean who doesn’t have someone in their past they wish would apologize to them, right? – but then I thought I’d better check with you, just in case you really do know him.”
It’s a totally normal email, is the thing. Considering who sent it and how long it’s been, it’s a normal, reasonable email.
But then Terry Silver had been good at coming across like a normal, reasonable person when he wanted to: that was the whole problem. If Daniel had known he was completely batshit crazy, he’d never have agreed to train with the guy in the first place. But he hadn’t known, so how can he tell now if this is another act or the real deal?
In hindsight, he should have talked to Amanda about it – hell, he should even have talked to Johnny about it. Obviously he should. But he’d have had to explain, tell the whole embarrassing story, and they’d both have told him not to reply, and then he’d never have known for sure. And a small, stupid part of himself wanted it to be real, to know it was real this time. Even after everything.
The email said:
Dear Daniel,
I assume you’re deleting these messages but I wanted to try just a little longer to reach you. I’m sure you didn’t expect to hear from me after all these years, any more than I expected to reach out. I’m sure you didn’t want to hear from me either, and I only have myself to blame for that.
I won’t insult you by offering an apology by email: I’ll simply say I am painfully aware of the harm I caused 30 years ago, and while you’ve certainly moved on and put it behind you, it troubles me to this day.
As you can guess, I am only getting in touch now because I’ve heard from John Kreese about the renewed animosity between you. He’s my oldest friend and quite frankly I’m worried about him: he’s not in a good place, emotionally, and I want to do anything I can to help him put this conflict behind him, and find a more constructive way of dealing with his issues. None of us want this to escalate, and I was hoping you and I could sit down like reasonable people and try to find a way out of it.
If I’ve kept away for 30 years, it is out of respect for your wishes and a desire to cause you no more harm. I was in a bad place myself when we knew each other and it would mean a lot to me if you’d agree to meet and allow me to make what amends I can by at least resolving the current situation.
I can make space in my agenda at any time that suits you.
With my very best regards,
Terry Silver
Re-reading it afterwards, he doesn’t know why he ever fell for it. It’s some words on a screen that he might not even have written himself! Why would the guy have changed? Because Johnny Lawrence changed? They were never the same, and Daniel knew that.
***
So fine, he’s nervous. He’s thought about the guy, on and off, for years, but Johnny bringing Cobra Kai back from beyond the grave brought it all back again in full force. He’d felt like an adult at the time: school finally behind him, running his own business with Mr Miyagi – but the older he gets, the older Sam gets, the more obvious it is that he was still a kid, and a dumb one at that. Thank god Sam’s smarter than he was. She’d never fall for an older guy trying the you’re so special, let me help you line. She’d laugh in the face of anyone who was selling Don’t tell anyone, just come train alone with me!
That’s all you want as a parent, isn’t it? For your kid to be smarter than you?
***
The phone call is fine. He doesn’t feel anything in particular, no fear, no rush of teenage emotion coming back. He’s an adult trying to solve a problem, and that’s how he feels. He made sure he could have an hour to himself when he called, no risk of Amanda or the kids or Johnny Lawrence interrupting in case it did affect him, but in the end it’s no big deal! What a difference 30 odd years makes, huh?
He saves the number Terry sends in his phone, obviously. It’s weird typing in ‘Terry’ and then ‘Silver’ like it’s just anyone, but then it was weird typing in ‘Johnny’ and ‘Lawrence’ too. And now he and Johnny call each other all the time, like it’s normal!
His pulse is only a little fast when he hears the phone ring, and a deep, gravelly voice says: “Hello?”
“Terry? This is Daniel LaRusso.” Listen to that confident, adult voice! He is knocking this out of the park!
“Daniel? Wow. I really -” the background noise fades abruptly, like Terry’s left a loud room to make sure he can hear to him. “I really appreciate this. Thank you for calling.”
“It’s no big deal.”
“No, sure, of course not. But I appreciate it all the same.”
Daniel’s mouth is only a tiny bit dry when he says, “You wanted to talk about John Kreese.”
“I want to help John to let this go, yes. I was hoping you might want the same thing, even if our motivation might be different.”
“No yeah, sure. No one wants this to escalate.”
“Perhaps we could meet for a drink, discuss it? Wherever’s convenient for you.”
Daniel pauses. He can’t go through life as if he was still afraid of this guy, can he? He’s got to face it, move past what happened.
“Uh, yeah. Sure. Sure,” he says. “How about Saturday?”
***
He goes harder than he usually does, sparring with Johnny on Saturday morning. Who is either distracted or hungover or both, because he barely scores a point and doesn’t even bitch about it, he just accepts Daniel’s hand up and rolls his shoulders.
It’s only as Daniel’s about to hit the shower that he asks, “You good, man?” Not even looking at him, just lobbing the question at him from across the dojo to do with as he will.
And it sounds really casual but Johnny never asks him if he’s ok, unless he’s actually on the floor bleeding at Johnny’s hands. And that only happened the one time.
“Yeah, all good,” he says, and closes the bathroom door behind him.
He didn’t let himself bring a change of street clothes. Jeans and a sweater were fine this morning, they’re fine now: it’s Saturday, they’re not meeting anywhere fancy. Amanda gave him this sweater and he wears it a lot, there’s no reason not to wear it today. There’s no reason not to wear cologne, the bottle’s here in the bathroom because he always uses it, and he styles his hair exactly the same as always and doesn’t sweat about the grey creeping in at his temples or pay much attention to the crow’s feet crinkling the corners of his eyes.
Johnny’s still there when he comes out.
“What?” he says to his sharp look, because you can’t let anything go with Johnny, he’ll think it’s weakness.
“What, what? Nothing.”
He’s still in his workout clothes because there’s only one bathroom and Daniel was in it. Sleeveless shirt, track pants, his hair sweat-damp and messy.
“I gotta go – bathroom’s all yours if you want it,” he says, just for something normal to say.
“I’ve had girlfriends who took less time getting ready than you.”
Daniel raises his eyebrows. “I took like, 15 minutes! I’m sorry if personal hygiene threatens your masculinity, but - ”
He trash-talks back and forth with Johnny all the way to his car, and leaves him to lock up or shower or drink beer in his all sweaty glory or whatever passes for a good time for Johnny Lawrence.
***
It’s not Terry waiting for him, it’s two polite young men wearing sharp business casual with at least two phones each. Daniel’s underdressed and under-phoned.
One of the phones has an apologetic Terry on the line: he’s so sorry, he’s been delayed, but he’s sent the helicopter; is there any way Daniel could come out to him? That way it’ll only take 20 minutes, he won’t need to sit in LA traffic for hours –
Daniel’s never been in a helicopter before. He could have done – they’re basically glorified taxis these days, he could afford to charter one sometime if he wanted – but he never has. That’s partly why he shrugs and agrees. He’s already thinking ahead, to when he tells Amanda and Johnny how he solved the Cobra Kai problem. How over the top Terry Silver still is, that he thinks it’s normal to send a helicopter when you’re late to meet someone – that’ll be a good way to bring it up. Somehow he hasn’t found the right way to mention it yet, and it’s not because he knows they’d both tell him not to go, make him second guess himself. He only didn’t mention it in the same way he doesn’t mention half the appointments in his calendar: there’s nothing much to say about them.
***
The helicopter is awesome. It’s like the A-Team or something, he has got to do this again.
***
They put Terry on again when they land, up in the hills over the other side of the valley in a new development he doesn’t recognise at all.
“Danny, I’m so sorry for this – I’ll be with you shortly,” he says. “My driver can bring you up here. If that’s alright with you.”
And he sounds so genuinely sorry that Daniel lets Danny slide. He wasn’t even sure he heard right, over the noise of the still-spinning blades.
So he leaves the two business casual assistants behind and gets into a luxury SUV that heads up into a brand new housing development Daniel doesn’t really like but he can tell the view from the top is going to be spectacular, and he tries to think about that and work out where exactly they are. The road winds and doubles back and forth so many times as it climbs that he loses his sense of direction pretty quick though. He could open the map on his phone but that would be too control-freaky so he doesn’t.
Terry Silver’s standing on a glass-walled balcony looking out over the valley when the car pulls up. It takes Daniel a second to recognise him, even though he hasn’t changed that much. He still wears his hair long, pulled back in a pony tail, but it’s white now. Of course it is – he was, what, late 30s when Daniel knew him? He must be over 70! But he’s still tall and upright, looks younger than he is, really. Good for his age. People say the same thing to Daniel.
It’s the same nothing sort of feeling to actually see him in the flesh as it was to first speak to him on the phone. He’s not nervous, this is no big deal. He only knew the guy for what, three months? When he was 18? Maybe it felt like a big deal, at the time, but it really wasn’t.
Terry comes down to meet him, smiling, holding out his hand.
Daniel takes it. How could he not? He’s here, isn’t he? The past is the past, of course he’ll shake hands.
“Danny,” Terry says, seizing his hand in a firm, dry grip. “Wow. Look at you! After all these years, I can’t believe it. You’ve hardly changed!”
“I don’t know about that,” he says, raising his eyebrows. He’s not being rude, but he has changed. Terry must know that.
“No, well. Naturally I looked you up, I know how well you’ve done for yourself. But you still look the same! Here, come inside – this is the show home, we’ve been having an issue with the development up here that I had to see to personally, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting…“ and he ushers him up the steps to the house with a touch to the small of his back.
Just a normal business courtesy; Daniel represses his flinch.
“Thank you so much for coming,” he’s saying. “Really. I wish it were under better circumstances, but I wouldn’t have bothered you under better circumstances…”
***
Standing before a sideboard stocked with bottles in an otherwise empty and uncluttered room, Terry asks: “Remind me what you drink?”
“Can’t remind you if you never knew – I wasn’t old enough to drink when we knew each other, remember?”
“Really? Were you as young as that?”
“It’s an under 18 karate tournament, Terry. How old did you think I was?”
“You were running that business! A tree shop, wasn’t it? I suppose I thought you must have been 22, 23 at least.”
Is he for real? Daniel’s gonna give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Ha ha, nope,” he laughs. “I was 18, turned 19 just a couple days before the ’85 tournament.”
Terry turns, bottle in hand. He looks astonished, which has got to be an act. Just-turned-19-year-old Daniel would have killed for someone to think he was 22, but nobody ever did. Hell, he’d have settled for someone even believing he’d graduated high school.
“Wow. This is probably the first time anyone’s ever thought I was older than I was – I had serious baby face back then, used to get carded until I was in my thirties.”
“You just came across as older, I guess. Mature for your years.”
Daniel scoffs. “First time anyone’s ever said that, either.”
Terry smiles at him. That warm, we’re-on-the-same-side smile he used to do sometimes. “What will you have, then? This is an excellent French chenin blanc, will you join me?”
For a second Daniel’s tempted to ask the region, the vineyard, show he knows something about wine too, but then he doesn’t. He’s got nothing to prove to this man.
“Yeah, sure, thanks,” is all he says.
***
The wine is excellent. Very cold, very dry.
“So you’re married, I hear!” Terry says. Why is that so surprising? Did Terry think no one would ever want him, or that he was too inconsistent to settle down with anyone? Either way it’s slightly insulting.
“Uh, yeah. Married, two kids – teenagers, now. You?”
He smiles like Daniel’s told a joke. “No. And I also hear you mix business with pleasure.”
It takes him a second to get it. “Uh, yeah, if you mean me and my wife run the business together, then yeah.”
“Well. Good for you, Danny.”
No, now he has to say something.
“I never really went by Danny,” he says. “It’s Daniel.”
Terry seems to show a lot of teeth when he smiles then. Very white, very even. He looks too big for the armchair he’s sitting in.
***
There’s another guy there, some kind of assistant but he’s wearing a tight t shirt rather than a blazer. Once they’re settled in the white armchairs, looking out at the view over the valley, Silver doesn’t get up to serve more drinks. He does something on his phone and a second later out struts a young guy who looks like a prize fighter. Tattoos on his arms and neck, hair cut so short you can see the pink of his scalp: exactly the kind of tough guy who historically most likes to start shit with Daniel, like his very existence is an insult to them.
This one just pours wine into fresh glasses like a bartender and brings them over. He’s chosen red wine glasses so he’s hardly a sommelier, but Daniel doesn’t say anything. Not even when the guy looks him in right in the eyes like he’s trying to make Daniel blink first. He didn’t come here to play tough guys, not about wine and definitely not with some knucklehead he’s never going to see again.
He just says, “Thanks,” and takes a sip.
***
Terry isn’t in a rush to talk about how they can help John Kreese let this go.
“So how did you meet your wife – online?” he asks.
“At work,” Daniel says firmly.
“Danny!” he says in scandalised delight, then catches himself. “Sorry, sorry – Daniel. Did you marry your secretary?”
“Uh, no, we were both in sales – listen, I -”
Terry cuts him off. “Sorry, I know I’m prying, I’m just trying to reconcile the boy I knew with the married man!”
“Lot of people get married when they grow up, Terry.”
“Of course. But you – can I be frank with you? I saw how you used to look at me, back then. I just assumed that the girls you told me about were a stop gap, until you realised, came to terms with who you were. Things were different back then but I knew you weren’t closed-minded, I thought it was just a matter of time…”
I saw how you used to look at me.
How strong he was, how fast, how much bigger. The open vee of his gi. I saw how you used to look at me.
Daniel gapes at him, so taken aback he realises his mouth is open. He closes it.
“Oh don’t look so shocked! I wasn’t shocked. You know,” Terry leans forward, puts his glass down on the side table next to him. “That last time you came to the dojo, I was going to ask you. You weren’t the only one looking, did you realise that?”
Had he realised that? He must have done, at some level. Having to tip his head back because Terry used to stand too close, that huge hand around his wrist, on his shoulder, his hips, adjusting his stance, always some pretext to touch him. Mr Miyagi touched him too, sometimes, but it was different.
He shakes his head.
“Well, now you know. You were delicious back then! If you hadn’t decided to stop training with me, I would have made my move. I would have called off the plan with John and that kid – what did I care about a little karate tournament? I was only supposed to mess with you once or twice, muddy the waters, but then when I met you – well, I’ll admit I let my attraction get the better of me. Let the deceit go too far. And then, rather than what I’d been hoping for, you told me you were going to stop training and I admit, I took it poorly –“
“You were lying to me the entire time!” he bursts out. “Sure, it was a long time ago, but you lied to me for months, about everything! Hired those guys to terrorise me, smash up Mr Miyagi’s shop!”
“I know! I know, and I’m sorry – I paid the price, of course. If I’d just told you the truth, called them off as soon as we met… maybe that night would have gone differently. I still think about it, Danny – I wanted you so much, and I could have been your first. You could have lost your virginity to me. D’you ever think about that?”
God, imagine a world where it hadn’t been Ali, where he hadn’t had that in the bank, something wonderful between him and her that he could always look back on, even after they broke up. Where he hadn’t had that time with Kumiko either, where he’d waited another day to tell Terry Silver the Cobra Kai approach to karate wasn’t for him. Where his first time had been with someone who was lying to him about everything, going out of his way to hurt him, hurt Mr Miyagi?
Everything in him recoils. Forget being polite, diplomatic: maybe it’s rash, but he lets his face do what it does when confronted with outrageous statements these days. Brings out the raised eyebrows and curled lip of astonished disdain that teenagers pull every ten minutes. The more time he spends with Johnny Lawrence, the more Daniel’s been pulling it himself – the ‘WTF face’, he’s heard it called. It silences the kids and drives Johnny crazy, of course he keeps doing it.
Terry Silver twitches, like he finds it just as provocative as Johnny does.
“Oh, you’d have turned me down? Or are you saying you weren’t a virgin?” He smiles; fond, sure of himself. “I find both of those claims a little hard to believe, Danny, especially now I know how old you really were…”
“Believe what you like. I’m not gonna talk about this with you.”
He can’t just sit here calmly, but when he gets up he finds he’s dizzy, almost trips over the rug. He hasn’t had that much to drink, has he?
Terry’s on his feet in a flash, reaching out to steady him.
“Careful now,” he says, and Daniel steps back, away from him.
He holds his hands up, an exaggerated claim of innocence.
“Who was it then, just out of curiosity? Your first man, I mean. Not John’s student, the blond boy who used to beat you up – what’s his name?”
He almost blurts out, Johnny, but at the last minute his head catches up with his mouth. He takes another step back, in spite of himself, and Terry takes a step forward. A bigger step, so Daniel’s already forced to look up at him.
The guy who served the wine is back, standing behind Terry. He’s watching like something’s funny.
“Danny, sit down, finish your drink.”
“I told you, it’s not Danny. Stop calling me that.”
Terry’s smile gets wider.
“Maybe I should go,” he says. “This was a mistake.”
“No, no – you haven’t finished your drink yet. We haven’t talked about this year’s little tournament, or anything we were going to discuss.”
“Thanks Terry, but I’m gonna go,” he repeats. This wasn’t a good idea, he can see that now.
But when he turns to the door, that other guy is there, blocking the exit.
“You know, I thought it would take more than this to get you here. For you to agree to meet me,” says Terry from behind him. Daniel doesn’t turn, won’t give him the satisfaction, but he continues anyway. “What brought you back in the end? A couple of emails, a bit of regret, and here you are, ready to pick up exactly where we left off. It was easy. You were easy.”
In his pocket, his phone buzzes. Now that he’s noticed, he realises it’s been buzzing for a while. He takes it out, slow like he’s wading through deep water, and the screen might be underwater too. He squints at it, and maybe he does need glasses, there’s writing but it’s blurred only he knows it’s Amanda anyway. He needs to talk to her, he needs to tell her where he is.
Terry’s arms come around his waist from behind him as the other guy snatches the phone out of his hand before he can answer it.
“Hey! That’s mine!” he wants to yell, but it doesn’t come out right. He sounds slurred, confused.
“Danny, relax…” murmurs Terry behind him, and no. Daniel is not going to relax. He’s not that naïve.
He has to do something now, now, get the phone back, just two words and Amanda will know something’s wrong –
He lets himself go limp for a second, sagging into Terry and when he adjusts his stance to support him rather than hold him back, uses his bulk to launch himself at the guy who’s got his phone.
Catches him square in the gut, doubling him over, and in the struggle he actually feels his phone in his hand for a split second, still buzzing as his fingers close around it, before the man’s pulling away, upright again. Daniel’s body won’t respond how he wants, not even to dodge the first sloppy punch to the face that sends him reeling back into Terry, and those must be Terry’s hands grabbing him, on his wrists, twisting his arm behind his back, snapping: “Not his face. I won’t say it again.”
“Oh, you’re a prince, Terry,” he spits. He can taste blood.
“I’m rich enough to be one.”
“I don’t care," he says, trying to pull away. "Let go of me." His head’s spinning from the force of the blow. He can hardly see, hardly stand, but he can still talk.
“I don’t think so. That temper! I can’t just let you assault my staff, can I?”
“But he can steal my phone?”
“You’ll get it back later, Danny.”
“Seriously? I tell you that’s not my name and you keep calling me it? That’s the level we’re at?”
Terry pulls him back into his chest, changes his grip so Daniel’s arms are trapped by his sides. He ought to be able to get out of this, but he’s off balance, dizzy with the blow and – no, wait, he was dizzy before, something’s wrong –
He already knew that. He’s going round in circles.
“You need to relax,” Terry says. His mouth almost touches Daniel’s ear when he speaks, breath warm on the side of his face. “You wanted to be here. You know you want this, even if you’re pretending you don’t.”
Daniel turns his head away. The room is spinning and now Terry’s holding him up for real but he tries to pull away again anyway, maybe he can’t stand up but he’s gonna leave it absolutely clear that he doesn’t want any help from Terry goddamn Silver, he’s had enough help from this guy to last a lifetime.
Terry just holds him tighter, closer, pulls their bodies flush. He has an erection. Daniel can feel it digging into him.
“Come and sit down with me, Danny,” he says, and Daniel says, “No way.”
***
It’s mostly a blur after that.
Terry is always behind him, holding him tight so he can’t break away. He keeps saying things that don’t make any sense, things about him, about Cobra Kai, so Daniel stops listening. His big hand reaches up to wipe away the blood trickling from Daniel’s lip. His fingers are in Daniel’s mouth.
A hand slides into his hair and tugs his head back.
There’s a glass pressed to his mouth, and that voice is very far away and right behind him. Someone’s arm is round his waist, pulling him in.
“Deep down, you must’ve known something like this was going to happen. Maybe you even wanted something like this to happen – an excuse to do what you already wanted to do?”
Daniel tries to shake his head, but that hand is still in his hair. It’s a fist now. The glass presses harder and he has to open his mouth.
“Just finish this. It’ll help you relax, Danny.”
But he doesn’t want to relax, he doesn’t want to drink this. He’s not safe here, he wants to leave now but the arm around his waist won’t let go and the fist in his hair won’t let go and where is he? Who’s behind him? Before he was in a chair and now he’s not, that’s a man behind him, Daniel knows who it is but he doesn’t want to know.
Maybe they’re sitting down. Maybe he’s pulled Daniel into his lap.
Everything’s hazy around the edges, his field of vision narrowing, his whole body so heavy he can’t move. He’s pretty sure he didn’t take his jeans off himself. Someone else’s hands were there and he really wanted to kick them but his legs wouldn’t do it.
“You wanted so hard to believe I was sorry for what I did to you,” says Terry Silver, very close. “Because if I was sorry then it was me who’d done something wrong, and it wouldn’t be your fault.”
This isn’t like when he was a kid. This is worse, because he knows who Silver is and Silver knows that he knows. The gloves are off, and there’s no Mr Miyagi to come to the rescue. He’s got himself into this so he’ll have to get himself out only he can’t. He can’t move. He can’t talk. He can hardly keep his eyes open.
“But you came back so easily! All these years you’ve just been waiting for me to come get you, haven’t you? Bring you back to Cobra Kai?”
He’s drifting. Maybe that’s better. Maybe he doesn’t want to know what happens next, maybe it’s better to just check out, wake up when it’s all over. Terry Silver is still talking to him, breathing in his face, running his fingers through Daniel’s hair. He closes his eyes and thinks about Mr Miyagi. His boat on the lake.
It doesn't work, because the panicked voice in his head is saying, I should have known, I should have known, I should never have agreed to meet him I should never have got in the helicopter I should never have come up here I should never have accepted a drink –
It’s all his own fault and if he can just stay awake he’s gonna pull away, jab his elbow back, walk out of here. Barefoot if he has to.
Because he doesn’t have shoes on. Why doesn’t he have shoes on.
Just stay awake. Goddammit Daniel just stay awake. When did I take my shoes off. Why did I take
There’s something soft under his cheek. Fabric. Cool. But there’s no solid bulk behind him so it’s not him any more it’s, it’s,
He’s lying down, face down.
He’s lying down and someone’s holding his arm behind his back, and he wants to tell them they don’t need to bother because he can’t really move anyway, but he doesn’t like them so let them waste their time.
Soft under his bare knees, his thighs. He’s in bed but he can’t fall asleep. He can’t. He’s got to leave because this is all his own fault. Stay awake. Stay awake. I can stop this happening, fight back. I can. My own dumb fault what am I doing here. Stay awake stay awake stay awake stay
There’s somebody there, leaning over him murmuring in his ear
And Daniel thinks no
No I didn’t I didn’t I didn’t
I wouldn’t I don’t want
I don’t want to be awake any more. I don’t want to know.
From very far away
a chime?
And the hand on the back of his neck goes very still.