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𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 at West Valley High.

The LaRusso home buzzed with warmth and excitement. Daniel and Amanda had invited Louie, Lucille, and Louie's sister Vanessa over for the occasion. Laughter and the scent of dinner hung in the air as the doorbell rang.

Daniel crossed the room and pulled the door open. Standing on the porch was August, sharp in a black tuxedo, with Stella, Janette, and Nathan right beside him.

"Hey, guys. Come on in," Daniel greeted, stepping back to let them inside. "Make yourselves at home."

"It's so good to see you," Amanda said warmly, embracing Stella and Janette before turning her attention to August. Her eyes softened with approval. "Oh, you look very dashing."

"Thank you, ma'am." August smiled, polite and a little nervous.

Johnny appeared from the back of the house, and for a split second, Daniel's eyes met his. Neither said a word, but the weight of their mutual dislike hung in the room before they quietly moved to opposite sides.

"Okay, here she comes," Amanda announced.

All eyes turned toward the staircase as Sam descended carefully, heels clicking on each step. She looked radiant, and August's breath caught in his throat.

"Wow, you look beautiful," he said, smiling wide.

"Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself, Walker." Sam returned the smile, teasing gently.

"I got this for you." August held up a corsage, slipping the delicate flower onto her wrist with care. His fingers lingered for a moment as he gently clasped her hand. Sam, smiling softly, lifted the boutonnière she had brought and pinned it neatly to his jacket.

"Okay, let's get some pictures. Walkers first," Vanessa called, camera in hand.

Stella, August, Janette, and Nathan lined up together. Nathan stood tall and steady, his presence protective without words.

"Johnny, come on," Stella said, glancing back.

The blond stepped forward, slipping naturally to her side. Vanessa snapped a few photos before nodding. "Alright, time for the LaRussos. Anthony!"

"Oh, uh, maybe he should just stay in his room today," Amanda muttered.

Right on cue, Anthony bounded down the stairs, grinning. "I thought I was supposed to stay in my room for the rest of my life," he joked, joining his family. Vanessa got her shots in quickly before calling everyone over for a group photo.

"Alright, let's let these kids get out of here," Vanessa said, tucking her camera away.

"Bye everyone," Sam called, heading toward the door.

"Be safe, you guys," Daniel reminded firmly.

"We will. Bye guys." August waved, his smile bright as he led Sam out. At the door, he reached for her hand, their fingers intertwining naturally. "You ready, Sam?" he asked, still smiling.

Sam's lips curved into a grin. "I'm ready."

"Well, I have to get to work, you guys," Stella said, slipping into her coat. "I'll see you later though."

Nathan pulled his daughter into a strong embrace, his voice low and steady with that Walker weight. "Be safe going to work, honey. I love you."

"I love you too, Daddy," Stella whispered back, hugging him tightly before saying goodbye to her grandmother and the LaRussos.

Johnny followed her out, the night air cooler beyond the doorway. At her jeep, he wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her close. "Be safe, princess," he murmured.

"I always am," Stella teased softly, fingers brushing the back of his neck. "So, after my shift, you wanna come by?"

"I'll be there." Johnny smiled, eyes locked on hers. "I love you."

"I love you more."

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Stella sat at the nurses' station, pen moving steadily across a chart. A half-finished cup of coffee sat by her elbow, steam curling faintly into the fluorescent light. Around her, Lori, Kara, April, and Maggie kept her company, their own mugs in hand. It was shaping up to be a long night.

"So, is August excited for prom?" Lori asked, twirling her spoon through a swirl of creamer before setting it aside with a little flip of her wrist.

"Yeah," Stella said, sliding the finished chart into the filing cabinet. "Both he and Sam looked so good together."

"I remember my junior prom," Maggie chimed in with a dreamy smile. "J.J. Ingram was my date. Lord have mercy." She took a sip of her coffee, eyes sparkling with nostalgia.

"A fun and wild night, huh?" April teased, lifting her own cup.

"You don't even know the half of it. Oh, to be young again. That's why I love hanging around you girls—you keep me young."

"Maggie, you are young," Kara said with an easy laugh, setting her coffee down neatly.

"Honey, you're too sweet, but I'm forty-five years old, in premenopause, and my husband drives me crazy." Maggie grinned, shaking her head.

Lori leaned back in her chair, letting out a little sigh. "Ugh, mood. Honestly, prom feels like forever ago, but also? I could totally still slay in a gown." She flipped her hair dramatically, and the table burst into laughter.

Before Stella could reply, Sharon approached the desk, flipping through her clipboard. "Stella, there's someone here to see you. He said it's urgent business."

"Who is it?" Stella asked, setting her pen aside as she rose from her chair.

"His name is Terrence," Sharon said, her brows drawn tight. "He's in the conference room."

The chatter at the station slowly resumed as Stella made her way down the hall, her pulse ticking a little faster. She pushed open the conference room door—and there he was.

The man Sharon had described stood waiting, tall and imposing, dressed head-to-toe in dark colors. His long gray hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, sharp eyes glinting under the harsh hospital lighting.

Terry Silver.

Terry noticed Stella the moment she walked in, rising from his seat with that unsettling, practiced smile. "Ms. Walker. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you. Kreese told me everything—especially about your little love affair with John Lawrence."

Stella offered him a cold, polite smile as she sat across from him. "I'm sure the asshole did. What are you doing here? As far as I know, none of the kids have broken the deal. I've got patients to see."

"I'm simply here to deliver a message." Terry's voice was smooth, almost friendly, but his eyes glittered with malice.

Stella leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. "Which is?"

"Tell little Danny-boy it's unethical to poach students." Terry smirked, as though savoring the words.

"What the hell are you talking about, old man?" Stella shot back, her tone sharp.

"Robby." Terry spread his hands in mock innocence. "Danny had his opportunity with him. Now he's with us. That should be respected. Tell your boyfriend the same thing."

"First of all, what the hell do you know about respect? You and Kreese are conmen." Stella's violet-blue eyes burned into him. "Mr. LaRusso said you turned him into something he wasn't."

"Oh, please." Terry leaned back in his chair, chuckling low. "I didn't turn Daniel into anything. Just like Kreese didn't turn your brother into something he wasn't. We almost had him, you know. One step away from burning down your mother's legacy of kindness and compassion that he bragged about." His smile sharpened. "Wouldn't that have been poetic?"

Stella's jaw clenched. Her voice came out raw. "Shut up. Watch your mouth about my mother, you ancient piece of shit. She was perfect. Don't you fucking talk about her. You didn't even know her."

Terry tilted his head, feigning regret. "Oh, my apologies, Stella." His tone dripped with exaggerated politeness. "But I do know this—your mother's accident? Tragic. A horse spooked, wasn't it? Left your father—Texas Ranger Nathan Walker—driving himself mad, chasing shadows to find who caused it. Poor man never realizing sometimes accidents aren't accidents at all."

Stella's face went pale. "You—"

"Relax," Terry cut in smoothly, his grin wicked. "I'm not saying I had anything to do with it. But isn't it interesting how fragile life is? How easily it can be... nudged? Like a red light... or a steering wheel." He tapped the table lightly, rhythmically.

Her hands curled into fists. "We're done here."

"You're done," Terry echoed with a smirk, watching as she pushed back her chair and stormed out. His eyes followed her, amused.

Later that night, after clocking out, Stella walked out of the emergency room with her bag slung over her shoulder. Exhaustion weighed heavy as she climbed into her jeep. She turned the key, the radio humming to life—Tim McGraw's Don't Take the Girl filling the silence.

Her phone buzzed with Johnny's name flashing across the screen. Again. She ignored it, gripping the wheel tighter, eyes misting as tears slid down her cheeks.

She pulled up to a red light, wiping at her face, the song's lyrics cutting into her already bruised heart. When the light turned green, she eased forward—too lost in the music, too lost in her thoughts to notice the Ford F-150 barreling through the intersection.

The impact was brutal. Metal shrieked. Stella's head snapped forward, slamming against the steering wheel.

And then—darkness.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Johnny lay sprawled on the floor of his apartment, half-empty bottle of whiskey beside him. His face was swollen and bruised, his ribs aching with every shallow breath. After learning Silver had bought Robby a car and tried to pay off Shannon, Johnny had gone looking for a fight—and Terry had given him one. Beaten, broken, and drunk, he was barely conscious when his phone buzzed against the wood floor.

He groaned, fumbling for it. "Yeah?" he slurred.

"Johnny, it's Lori and Kara," came Lori's voice, tight and trembling.

"What's going on?" Johnny muttered, his words thick with alcohol.

Kara's calm but clipped tone cut in. "Listen, we've already notified Janette and Nathan, but—Stella was in an accident. She's in the trauma unit. They don't know if she's gonna wake up or not."

The words hit harder than Terry's fists. Johnny sat bolt upright, the haze snapping clean away. "What? How—how did it happen?" His voice cracked, tears burning his eyes.

"From what we were told, a Ford F-150 ran a red light and hit her head-on," Lori said softly, her usual sparkle dimmed with worry.

"I'm on my way." Johnny hung up, hands trembling as he grabbed his keys. He was in no shape to drive—but that didn't matter. Nothing mattered except getting to her. He stumbled into his beat-up Dodge Caravan, bloodied knuckles gripping the wheel, and tore off into the night.

At West Valley General, Johnny screeched into the lot and parked haphazardly beside Janette's truck. He bolted inside, heart pounding, body screaming with every step.

"Are you Johnny?" Sharon asked, intercepting him at the desk.

"Yes—I'm Stella Walker's boyfriend. Where's—"

"She's in Trauma Three. Follow me."

Johnny pushed through the door, breathless. Inside, the world stilled. Stella lay on the bed, fragile and broken, her violet-blue eyes closed, her skin pale against the hospital sheets. Nathan sat at her side, holding her hand like it was the only thing tethering him to the earth. Janette hovered close, her face streaked with tears. Kara and Lori sat pressed together in the corner, mascara running, while August stood frozen, fists clenched at his sides.

Nathan rose, his signature steadiness cracking in his eyes. "Johnny."

Johnny's voice shook. "What the hell happened?"

Dr. Halstead spoke, his tone clinical but weighted with gravity. "Stella was in a car crash. The front end of her Impala was destroyed. By every measure, she shouldn't be alive—but by the grace of God, she is."

Janette let out a broken sob. Lori covered her mouth, tears spilling freely, while Kara squeezed her hand tight. Nathan stayed tall, but his jaw worked as he fought the flood rising inside.

Dr. Halstead continued, "There aren't any broken bones. She has cuts on her face, chest, and neck from the glass, and a sprained wrist. She's on a morphine drip to keep her comfortable."

"What about internal injuries, Will?" Lori asked carefully

"She has several bruised ribs, but no sign of brain trauma. When she wakes up, she will be in significant pain. I'll leave you all for now—call me the moment she wakes up."

When the doctor left, silence fell heavy. Johnny moved to Stella's bedside, sliding into the chair Nathan had left behind. His calloused hand trembled as he reached for hers, his head bowing until his forehead rested against her arm.

"Don't you leave me, Stella," Johnny whispered, his voice splintering. "I'm so sorry. I should've been there. I should've protected you. Please—please don't leave me." His tears fell freely now, dripping onto her sheets. He pressed her hand to his lips, desperate for her warmth.

Janette moved closer, clutching her granddaughter's other hand. August paced, grief twisting his features, while Lori and Kara huddled together, whispering prayers through their tears.

Nathan finally broke. Unable to stand the sight of his little girl so frail, he left the room, boots heavy against the tile. He made his way to the chapel and sank onto a pew, staring up at the wooden cross. His shoulders shook as silent tears slipped down his face.

A warm hand touched his shoulder. He turned, finding August there, eyes red but steady.

"Dad, it's going to be alright," August said quietly, sliding onto the pew beside him.

Nathan let out a trembling breath. "I made a promise the day you and your sister were born that I would never let anything happen to y'all. August, everything I've ever done—every case, every fight—has been to protect you two." His voice cracked, raw and unguarded. "And now... look at her. I'm being punished for my wrongdoings."

"Hey," August said firmly, gripping his father's arm. "Nobody is being punished for anything. Stella's strong—she gets that from Mom, and from you. She's gonna pull through. You'll see."

Nathan shut his eyes, fighting back another wave of tears, and nodded. For the first time, his  steel faltered, but in his son's words, there was a flicker of hope.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

The warmth of the California sun bathed Stella's face, coaxing her eyes open. She stirred, lulled by the gentle sensation of fingers threading through her long brunette hair and the soft hum of Hey Jude.

Her hypnotic blue eyes blinked against the light—and then widened. Sitting before her was her mother, Ava, her golden hair cascading in the breeze. She wore a soft blue knit halter top and a flowing white skirt that danced with the wind, an image of grace and serenity.

"Mama," Stella whispered tearfully, sitting up, her heart aching with both joy and longing.

"Hi, my darling Stella." Ava's smile radiated warmth as she continued stroking her daughter's hair, every touch tender and deliberate.

"I've missed you so much," Stella cried, throwing her arms around her mother.

"I know, sweetheart. And I miss you, your father, and your brother every single day." Ava held her close, then tipped her chin gently. "But we both know you didn't dream me here just to tell me that. Why don't you tell your mama what's really on your heart?"

Stella curled instinctively into her mother's lap, like she had as a little girl. Her tears shimmered as she whispered, "It's this karate war, Mama. It's been going on since the '80s. Johnny brought back Cobra Kai, and August was his top student, but after his injury, Kreese took it over. Then there was the fight at Mr. LaRusso's, and now everything's leading to the tournament. And Kreese—he brought back his old war buddy, Terry Silver. He's... he's a maniac. I want to help Johnny and Mr. LaRusso, but I don't know what to do."

Ava smoothed the tears from her cheeks. "My sweet Stella, life will always bring hard choices. But you know right from wrong. You carry that truth in you. Always."

Stella nodded, but her heart pulled her in another direction. She tightened her arms around her mother's waist, voice trembling. "Mama... there's something else. Johnny. He's—he's the love of my life. I wish you could've met him. You would've loved him, I just know it. He's rough around the edges, and he's made mistakes, but Mama, he has the kindest heart. He makes me feel safe, and seen, and loved. I... I don't ever want to lose him."

Ava's eyes softened, a knowing glow lighting them up. She cupped her daughter's face with both hands. "Oh, my Stella Blue. I already love him—because you do. If he holds your heart this tightly, then I know he's good. You deserve that kind of love. And he's lucky, so very lucky, to be yours."

Stella's tears fell harder as she clung to her mother. "Please don't leave me again."

Ava kissed her forehead, her voice steady and filled with unwavering love. "I never left you, my sweet Stella. And I never will. I'll always be here—in your heart, in your strength, in your love."

Her touch began to fade, her golden hair dissolving into the light. The scent of Penhaligon's Bluebell lingered in the breeze, a final gift, as Ava's presence slipped away.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Around two in the morning, the hospital room had settled into a heavy, exhausted silence. Nathan and Janette, drained from hours of worry, had finally drifted off in their chairs. In the corner, August, Lori, and Kara slept slumped against one another, their faces soft with restless dreams.

By Stella's bedside, Johnny sat hunched in the chair, her small hand cradled tightly in his own even as he slept, his head bowed, breath uneven from hours of quiet tears.

Then, in the stillness, a faint pressure stirred. Stella's fingers moved, gently squeezing his hand.

Johnny's eyes fluttered open at the sensation, and almost at the same time, Janette and Nathan stirred. They blinked in disbelief, their hearts lurching as they looked to the bed.

Stella's blue eyes were open—drowsy, fragile, but alive.

By the grace of God, she was awake. She was here.