Cobra Kai Fan-Fics - Four Separate Stories

••••《 1 - Esqueleto 》

Ember Keene Episode One - This takes place season 1, episode 3.

Characters in scenes (in order of appearance): Ember, Robby

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☆ Scene One - An intro scene for Robby and Ember's relationship: ☆

My eyes are sealed shut, as I have my body sprawled out across the couch, trying to stay comfy and make myself better. All of a sudden, the front door opens. I'm on the couch half asleep, but I quickly jerk awake and look over at the door. The door shuts and I suddenly see Robby. He has a bag in his hand.

"Hey, hey, calm yourself. It's just me." Robby smiles, still holding the bag. "Keep resting." I smile and sigh, lying back down. I hear Robby walking towards me as I take a deep breath and shift around on the couch. He walks in front of me and kneels down. "Have you eaten anything today?" I shake my head slightly.

"No, I didn't have enough energy to get up. Sorry." I let out a sigh, Robby grabs my hand and nods.

"Don't worry! It's fine. In fact, I picked something up at the store for you." Robby grins and begins rummaging through the plastic grocery bag.

"You shouldn't have wasted money on me." I mutter and shake my head. Robby pulls out a can of chicken noodle soup.

"I didn't 'waste' money on you, you need it and you deserve it." Robby reads through the directions. "I'm going to make it for you." He gets up from kneeling down next to me and heads over to our kitchen. I sit up from the couch and look over at him.

"And where did that money come from in the first place, because I sure as hell know that isn't mom's money. Sometimes I forget that she uses all of that on drinking and pills." I suddenly blurt out. "And, yeah, it is wasting money because you already have to spend so much money on me with medicines and inhalers and all sorts of other garbage."

"Mom takes care of that." Robby sighs as he pulls out a can opener and starts cranking open the soup can. I pull myself up more, this time beginning to get off of the couch. I watch as Robby pulls out a big, glass bowl.

"Yeah, right. You're paying for it using the money you and those guys have been stealing." I say as I lift my body up off the couch, instantly aching all over. Robby turns and looks at me.

"How do you know about that?" Robby raises an eyebrow, the can of soup still in his hand. I begin shuffling over towards him.

"I'm not stupid. I hear you talk on the phone about what place you're going to steal from next. I hear them knock on the door and watch you sneak out when you think I'm taking a nap or busy on my phone. I know you're gone for hours, but you also don't have a job. I don't know what all you're doing Robby, but I worry." I say as Robby turns away from me and begins to pour out the chicken noodle soup into the bowl. He sighs and walks over to our microwave, where he places the soup and starts a timer for 3 minutes.

"I have to make money some way. I have to provide for you." Robby watches the soup spin in the microwave and then he turns to me. He scans his eyes around, staring at my weak, frail, sick body.

"That's not your job, it's mom's, and even if, you can do better then stealing." I mutter.

"Mom's busy." Robby sighs. "You know that." He says, finally looking up into my eyes and not at everything I hate about myself.

"Don't defend her." My voice raises a bit more then I had hoped. I just don't know what kind of mom does this to her children. "She's not busy, she's just desperate for a man. I mean she's probably slept with everyone in California at this point."

"Don't say that about mom!" Robby snaps, his expression suddenly angry. At this point, both of us have become the complete hot-heads we are.

"Why not? What has she done for us? Why isn't she here right now helping us?!" I exclaim. "I'm sick! Look at me. I'm a literal stick and I'm physically unable to go to school! You haven't been to school in almost two months and you've started in a life of crime! You shouldn't be paying for my meals and telling me to rest, she should. Robby, this isn't your job. It's hers! You shouldn't be taking care of your half-sister." Robby grumbles a bit.

"My sister. You're my sister. I don't care if we have different dad's. They're both deadbeats anyways." Robby says, taking a step closer to me. "And, Ember, I don't mind watching after you. As long as you have your medicine, rest, and food, then I'm happy."

"I'm dragging you down." I cross my arms.

"No, you aren't." We stand in silence for a moment, but the awkward silence is broken by the sound of the microwave beeping. Robby grabs a spoon and walks over to the microwave, opening it and stirring the soup around. It's steaming and it smells wonderful. "Do you want to sit at the table, or do you want to go back to the couch?" Robby mutters, completely forgetting about what we just talked about.

"The table." I mumble back. Robby nods and slowly grabs the bowl and places it on the table. I make my way to the table, sitting down. Robby sits down next to me. I place my spoon in the soup and pull out a spoonful of steaming hot broth. I blow on it for a few moments before taking a sip. Robby suddenly reaches his hand out and places his hand in mine.

"Listen, I don't mean to get you down, but Ember, I really care about you and I worry about you. You mean the whole world to me." Robby smiles. Only slightly, but it's a comforting smile. One that is very familiar to me. I look him in the eyes and try to smile back. I give him a slow nod.

"I do appreciate all you do, I really do, I just don't want to be a burden." I explain with a shrug. I feel bad that Robby has to do all of this for me. It's my mom or dad's job. Sadly, my dad is a dead beat drug dealer and my mom is so desperate to find a guy and get free food that she goes out every single night leaving Robby and I to fend for ourselves. Or more like, leaving Robby to fend for both him and me at the same time.

"You're not, trust me." Robby explains, slowly letting go of my hand. I finally give him a genuine smile back and take another bite of my soup. There's another moment of silence as I take a sip of the broth and chew on a soft, tasty noodle. Then I decide to speak up.

"And, by the way, thank you for the soup." I speak the best I can. "You can have some." I push the bowl between us. "Go grab an extra spoon."