Chapter 4: Confession
The slam of the Cobra Kai dojo door still echoed in Robby’s bones as he stalked down Reseda Boulevard. Twilight bled into the streetlights, casting long, distorted shadows that mirrored the turmoil twisting his gut. Fury propelled him forward, each step jarring, fueled by the impossible image burned into his mind: his father’s strained gi jacket, Miguel’s panicked lie, the word ‘twins’ hanging like a death sentence. And LaRusso. Always LaRusso.
He shoved through the glass doors of LaRusso Auto with enough force to make the bell jangle violently. The sterile scent of new car interiors and lemon polish hit him, clashing violently with the raw gasoline smell from the service bay. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, too bright, too revealing. Daniel LaRusso stood near a gleaming sedan, clipboard in hand, chatting with a mechanic. He turned, a polite customer-service smile already forming. It froze, then shattered completely when he saw Robby’s face – pale, eyes burning with a cold, focused rage.
"Robby?" Daniel’s voice held genuine surprise, then cautious concern as he registered the intensity radiating off the teenager. He took a half-step forward. "Good to see you—"
"Cut the crap, LaRusso," Robby snarled, cutting him off. He strode forward, stopping barely a foot away, forcing Daniel to look up slightly. The mechanic wisely melted towards the service bay. "You know exactly why I'm here." Robby’s voice was low, dangerous, vibrating with barely contained fury. "My dad. Johnny."
Daniel’s face drained of color. His knuckles whitened around the clipboard. The practiced ease vanished, replaced by a hunted look, his eyes darting nervously towards the office door where Amanda LaRusso had just appeared, her expression shifting from curiosity to alarm. "Robby," Daniel started again, his voice strained, lacking its usual smooth confidence. "Look, whatever you think—"
"You abandoned him!" Robby exploded, the accusation ripping through the showroom. Amanda gasped softly. "Under that damn oak tree! He told me! You knew... you knew about the twins!" The word felt alien, poisonous on his tongue. "You knew he was pregnant with your kids, and you just... ran?" Disbelief warred with utter contempt in Robby’s glare. "What kind of coward are you?"
Daniel flinched as if physically slapped by Robby’s words, his carefully curated car salesman composure collapsing completely. “Abandoned? Robby, hold on—!” he stammered, eyes wide with panic, his clipboard clattering forgotten onto the hood of the sedan. “It’s… it’s not that simple!”
“Simple?” Robby’s laugh was harsh, brittle. He jabbed a finger towards Daniel’s chest, his voice dropping to a furious whisper that cut through the buzzing fluorescents. “He’s freaking out! Carrying twins! Your twins! And you vanished like a thief!” He saw the oak tree vividly, his dad’s slumped shoulders, the Mercedes peeling away. “What’d you think, LaRusso? That it’d just go away?”
Daniel ran a shaky hand through his hair, glancing desperately towards the service bay where the mechanic had vanished. “You don’t understand the situation, Robby,” he pleaded, his voice thin. “It… I needed time to process! It’s impossible! How could it even—?”
“Process?” Robby spat, leaning in, invading Daniel’s space. “He doesn’t have time! He’s alone! Miguel’s trying, but it’s… it’s a mess!” The raw fear underlying his anger surfaced. “You left him drowning!”
The sharp click of heels on tile cut through the escalating tension like a knife. Amanda LaRusso stepped fully from the office doorway, positioning herself smoothly between her husband and the furious teenager. Her expression, initially alarmed, had solidified into focused calm. She held up a hand, palm out, towards Robby, her gaze sweeping from his pale, furious face to Daniel’s near-panicked one.
"Okay," Amanda stated, her voice clear and firm, slicing through the charged air. "Time out. Both of you. Now." She turned her sharp, assessing eyes fully on Daniel, a silent command radiating from her posture. "Daniel? My office. Right now." Her tone brooked no argument, leaving no room for Daniel’s stammered protests. Amanda intervenes.
Daniel opened his mouth, a weak protest forming, but Amanda’s raised hand silenced him instantly. Her gaze, sharp as shattered glass, pinned him in place. "Office," she repeated, low and lethal. "Now."
Daniel flinched, casting one last desperate, bewildered glance at Robby’s livid face before shuffling towards the back room like a scolded child. The door clicked shut behind him, muffling the sudden, heavy silence.
Robby stood rooted, chest heaving, the sterile showroom air suddenly thick with lemon polish and unresolved fury. Amanda turned slowly, her focus shifting entirely onto him. The practiced calm remained, but her eyes held a terrifying intensity.
"Alright, Robby," Amanda stated, her voice measured but leaving no room for evasion. She took a single step closer, her heels silent on the tile now. "You barged in here throwing grenades about twins and abandonment." Her gaze didn't waver. "Start talking. Clearly. What exactly is happening with Johnny?"
Robby swallowed hard, the raw accusation momentarily choked by her directness. He saw his dad slumped against the dojo shelf, Miguel’s panicked eyes, the impossible curve beneath the gi. "He’s… pregnant," Robby forced out, the word tasting like ash. "Twins."
Amanda’s expression didn’t flicker, but her knuckles whitened where her hands clasped loosely before her. "Okay," she breathed, absorbing the impossible. "And Daniel?" Her voice was dangerously quiet. "You said he knew? Abandoned him?"
"Under the oak tree!" Robby burst out, the image fueling his anger again. "Johnny told him! Saw him! And LaRusso just… ran!" He mimicked the screech of tires with a harsh sound. "Left him alone! Freaking out!"
Amanda’s lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line. She glanced towards the closed office door, then back at Robby, her eyes narrowing with dawning, icy comprehension. "He ran," she echoed flatly. A beat of silence stretched, thick with implication. She took a slow, deliberate breath. "Wait here," she commanded, her tone leaving no doubt it was an order, not a request.
Without another word, Amanda pivoted sharply on her heel. Her stride was purposeful, furious, as she crossed the showroom floor. She didn't knock. She grasped the office door handle, twisted it with controlled violence, and slammed the door open wide enough to rattle the frame.
Daniel looked up from where he’d been pacing, his face pale and stricken. Amanda stepped inside, filling the doorway for a second before advancing. "Daniel LaRusso," she began, her voice low, vibrating with a fury colder than Robby’s heat. She shut the door firmly behind her with a decisive click, sealing them in. The muffled buzz of the showroom fluorescents vanished, replaced by a suffocating quiet. Amanda planted herself squarely in front of her husband, her eyes blazing. "You have exactly ten seconds," she hissed, the words slicing through the small room, "to explain to me why Robby Keene is out there telling me you abandoned Johnny Lawrence after knocking him up with twins." AMANDA DEMANDS ANSWERS.
Daniel flinched back a step, bumping into his cluttered desk. Coffee sloshed from a forgotten mug onto paperwork. "Amanda, wait—" he stammered, hands fluttering uselessly.
Her stare didn't waver, colder than the showroom AC. "Ten seconds started when I walked in," she hissed, leaning forward, palms flat on the desk separating them. "Johnny Lawrence. Pregnant. Twins. Yours. You ran. Explain."
He ran a trembling hand over his mouth. "It... it was the oak tree," he choked out, eyes darting anywhere but her face. "He just... blurted it out! Said he was carrying... carrying kids. Mine." He shuddered. "It sounded insane! Impossible!"
Amanda’s knuckles whitened against the wood grain. "So your brilliant solution was to peel out?" Her voice was dangerously quiet. "Leave him standing there? Alone? With that news?"
"I panicked!" Daniel burst out, the admission raw. "Okay? Pure panic! What was I supposed to do? Hug him? Congratulate him?" He gestured wildly. "How does this even happen?!"
"Figure that out later," Amanda snapped, slicing through his hysteria. "Right now, you tell me why Robby Keene looks like he wants to set this place on fire because his dad is terrified and alone." She leaned closer, her fury palpable. "Did you even call him? Text? Anything?"
Daniel’s shoulders slumped. He stared at the coffee stain spreading on an invoice. Silence stretched, thick and damning. He shook his head, a tiny, defeated movement. "No," he whispered.
Amanda straightened up, her expression hardening into something unyielding. "You get your keys," she commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Right now." She pointed towards the door. "We are going to that dojo. You are going to look Johnny Lawrence in the eye. And you are going to fix this colossal mess you made." She turned sharply, grabbing her own purse from a chair. "Move." AMANDA CONFRONTS HIM.
Daniel stared at Amanda, her command to fix this echoing in the small, suddenly suffocating office. The coffee stain spread like an accusation across the sales report. "Amanda, just—" he stammered, reaching out a hand that trembled visibly.
She didn’t flinch. "No more excuses, Daniel," she stated, her voice colder than the showroom AC vent. Her gaze swept over him, taking in the crumpled suit, the panicked eyes – the image of the man fleeing Johnny under that oak tree superimposing itself. This wasn’t just about Johnny. This was him. "Your panic doesn't erase what you did."
He shuffled forward, desperate. "Okay, okay, I'll go! Right now! I'll talk to him!" His voice cracked, pleading. "Just let me—"
Amanda pulled her phone from her purse with a smooth, decisive movement, her thumb already tapping the screen. She didn’t look at him. "Too late." The blue glow illuminated her face, set in rigid lines. "Johnny facing this alone? Robby shattered because of your cowardice?" She shook her head once, a sharp negation. "It ends now." Her fingers moved rapidly across the screen, purposeful, detached. "I’m filing."
Daniel froze. "Filing?" The word landed like a physical blow. "You don’t mean..."
"For divorce," Amanda confirmed flatly, her thumb hovering over the final icon. The quiet tap echoed louder than a shout in the silent office. She met his horrified stare, her eyes holding no anger now, only icy finality. "Consider yourself served." She slipped the phone back into her purse, the action definitive. "Get your keys. We drive separately. You face Johnny," she ordered, turning towards the door, leaving him standing amidst his ruined life. "Alone."
what was he going to do?
Daniel stood frozen in the wreckage of Amanda’s pronouncement, the sterile office air suddenly thick as glue. His lungs refused to work properly. Keys. She said keys.
He fumbled blindly in his pocket, fingers numb, pulling out the keyring with the Mercedes logo. It slipped from his trembling grasp, clattering loudly onto the tile floor near Robby’s feet. Robby stared down at the keys, then up at Daniel’s shattered expression.
Amanda swept past them both without a word, her heels clicking a sharp, final rhythm on the showroom tile. The glass door sighed shut behind her, sealing them in the too-bright silence.
Daniel flinched as if struck. He slowly bent, movements stiff and ancient, to retrieve the keys. Robby didn’t move to help. "She..." Daniel rasped, straightening up, his voice raw and broken. He couldn't look at Robby. "She filed."
Robby’s jaw clenched, a muscle jumping. He absorbed the information, the finality of it echoing Amanda’s departing footsteps. His eyes, hard as flint, met Daniel’s. "Good," Robby stated, the single word dripping with cold contempt. "You deserve it."
Daniel flinched again, the verbal blow landing harder than any punch. He gripped the keys until the metal dug into his palm. "Robby, I—" he started, the old excuses shriveling in his throat under the teenager’s unforgiving glare.
"Get in the car, LaRusso," Robby ordered, cutting him off. He jerked his head towards the door, towards the fading twilight. "You’ve got people waiting. Whether you want to or not." He turned and walked out, not waiting to see if Daniel followed.
The drive to the dojo was a suffocating blur of streetlights and silence. Daniel gripped the steering wheel like it was a lifeline, but it offered no salvation, only the cold smoothness of leather. His mind raced, fragmented images flashing: Johnny’s pale face under the oak tree, Robby’s fury, Amanda’s icy dismissal, the impossible swell beneath Johnny’s gi. Panic, thick and sour, coated his tongue.
He pulled up behind Robby’s parked bike, the Cobra Kai dojo facade looming dark and silent ahead. Robby was already standing by the door, arms crossed, waiting. Daniel killed the engine. The sudden quiet roared in his ears. He stared at the closed door, the coiled serpent symbol barely visible in the gloom. What waited inside felt more terrifying than any fight. Johnny. The twins. His utter failure.
Taking a shuddering breath that did nothing to calm him, Daniel forced his hand to the door handle. The latch clicked open, a sound absurdly loud in the tense stillness of the car. Robby’s stare burned into the side of his face. No turning back now. He pushed the door open, the interior light clicking on, illuminating his pale, terrified face. He stepped out onto the asphalt, his legs feeling like water. Robby watched him, unmoving, a silent, furious sentinel. Daniel looked towards the dojo entrance, a dark maw promising confrontation. He started walking, each step leaden. Robby fell into step behind him, a palpable pressure at his back. The air smelled of exhaust and distant rain. Johnny was inside. Alone. Carrying Daniel’s children. What condition would he find him in? The thought was a knife twist. Daniel reached the dojo’s outer door. He hesitated, his hand hovering over the handle. Robby shifted impatiently beside him. No more stalling. Daniel grasped the cold metal. He pulled. The door swung open with a groan, revealing the dim interior, the familiar, stale scent of sweat and old mats washing over him. There, across the empty space, slumped against the weapon rack, barely illuminated by the emergency exit sign’s weak glow, was Johnny. He looked wrecked. Exhausted. Utterly vulnerable. His gi jacket hung open, revealing the unmistakable, pronounced curve beneath his thin t-shirt. He raised his head slowly, bleary eyes focusing on the figures in the doorway. Recognition, then a wave of pure, unguarded panic, flashed across Johnny’s face. "You," Johnny breathed, the word ragged, thick with disbelief and fear. His hand fluttered protectively over his belly. Daniel froze on the threshold, Robby a looming presence at his shoulder. The air crackled. "Hey, Johnny," Daniel managed, his voice barely a whisper. It sounded pathetic. He took a shaky step forward into the dojo’s gloom, the weight of Robby’s judgment and Johnny’s terrified stare pressing down on him. "How... how are you holding up?" The question hung, stupid and inadequate, in the heavy silence. Johnny just stared back, eyes wide, saying nothing. ROBBY DEMANDS ANSWERS.
The stale dojo air crackled. Johnny remained slumped against the weapon rack, exhaustion etching deep lines around his eyes, one hand pressed low on the pronounced swell beneath his thin shirt. Daniel stood frozen just inside the door, Robby a tense, looming shadow at his shoulder, radiating fury like heat.
"How are you holding up?" Daniel’s voice was a thin rasp, useless against the weight in the room.
Johnny flinched, his breath hitching. Recognition sparked, then panic flooded his bleary gaze, fixed solely on Daniel. He said nothing, just stared, wide-eyed and trapped.
The silence stretched, suffocating. Dust motes drifted in the weak emergency light.
Robby couldn’t take it. He shoved past Daniel’s paralyzed form, striding into the center of the dim space, his sneakers loud on the worn mats. He spun around, facing his biological father, eyes blazing. "Well?" Robby demanded, his voice cracking with raw accusation. "You gonna answer him? Or just stand there like you did under that damn tree?" He jabbed a finger towards Johnny, who visibly shrank back. "He’s freaking carrying them, LaRusso! Your kids! Alone! Because you RAN!" Robby’s chest heaved. "What’s your brilliant plan now, huh? Run again? Hide?" Disgust dripped from every word. "He needs help, you coward!"
Daniel flinched like Robby had struck him, his face ashen. He looked from Robby’s livid face to Johnny’s terrified one, then down at his own trembling hands. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Swallowed hard against the knot of shame and panic choking him. "Johnny... I..." he stammered, the words dying before they formed anything useful.
Johnny flinched again at the sound of his name, a small, wounded sound escaping him. He pressed his hand harder against his belly, his knuckles white.
Johnny flinched again at the sound of his name, a small, wounded sound escaping him. He pressed his hand harder against the belly, his knuckles white. Daniel’s gaze dropped, truly seeing the undeniable swell beneath Johnny’s thin shirt for the first time, the reality hitting him like a physical blow.
He took a single, jerky step forward, drawn and repelled simultaneously. "Johnny, I... I didn't..." The words felt sticky, inadequate. "Under the tree... I panicked. It was too much."
"Too much?" Robby spat from behind him, venom dripping. "Try carrying them, LaRusso! Try being alone!" Johnny hunched further, a low groan escaping him as he shifted awkwardly against the rack.
Daniel flinched at Robby’s words, shame burning his cheeks. "I know, Robby, I know how it looks—"
"How it is!" Robby cut him off. "You see him? Really look!"
Daniel forced himself to meet Johnny’s eyes, seeing the exhaustion, the sheer terror beneath the familiar defiance. The silence stretched, thick with accusation and regret. Johnny’s breath hitched again, ragged and shallow. He tried to push himself more upright, the movement clumsy.
A sharp gasp tore from Johnny’s lips, his eyes flying wide with sudden, intense discomfort. "Ah! Christ!" His hand clamped down hard, fingers digging into the fabric over his lower abdomen. He doubled over slightly, a strangled curse escaping him as a visible ripple, a hard, startling thump, distorted the taut curve of his t-shirt. TWINS KICK VIOLENTLY.
Johnny gasped, a harsh, ragged sound ripped from his throat. Fire ripped through him as the twins slammed against his insides, a brutal double punch that stole his breath. He doubled over further, one hand braced against the cold metal rack, the other pressed desperately against the taut, shifting mound beneath his thin shirt.
Daniel jolted forward instinctively, his own panic momentarily eclipsed by the raw distress contorting Johnny’s face. "Johnny!" His voice cracked, hand outstretched uselessly. "Are you—?"
"Get back!" Johnny snarled through gritted teeth, flinching away from Daniel’s approach, sweat beading on his forehead. Another sharp, visible ripple rolled across his abdomen, making him groan, low and guttural. "Little bastards... kicking like mules..."
Robby watched, rooted to the spot near the door, the sterile scent of fear suddenly sharp in the dusty air. The protective fury that had propelled him here evaporated, replaced by a cold, sinking dread as he saw the genuine agony twisting his father’s features. The impossible reality – the life violently asserting itself inside Johnny – slammed into him with terrifying force. He saw Johnny’s white-knuckled grip on the rack, the way his knees trembled slightly.
Daniel froze mid-step, hand still hovering, his face pale. "They... they shouldn't hurt that much, should they?" he asked, voice thin with sudden, dawning fear. "Johnny, talk to me!"
Johnny sucked in a shuddering breath, forcing himself partially upright against the rack, his face etched with pain and exhaustion. "Doc said... kicks get stronger," he managed, voice strained. "Twins... cramped space." He winced again, a fresh tremor running through him. "Feels like... demolition derby in there."
Robby stared, transfixed, at the visible movement distorting Johnny’s shirt. The anger towards Daniel, the disgust, momentarily vanished under a wave of pure, icy terror. His dad wasn't just pregnant; he was hurting, vulnerable in a way Robby had never imagined. The image of Johnny slumped and trembling against the rack eclipsed everything else. ROBBY FREEZES.