Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Man, it hurt.

It hurt all over.

Cole couldn’t remember ever being in so much pain.

That time they all had lost their powers and he almost got crushed under a car was nothing compared to this. Even a rift to the Departed Realm nearly cracking his head open hadn’t hurt quite as much. At least back then the pain had been located in one place. Now he couldn’t tell which part of his body didn’t hurt.

His head and back were probably the worst.

The pain washed over him in waves, made him nauseous as if he was seasick from the comparison alone.

Ugh, he just had to take his sweet time on that ladder, didn’t he? Now he was separated from his friends, trapped alone in this—wherever he was— surrounded from all sides by demonic fog. How he hadn’t been turned into a stone statue yet was beyond him. Small blessings.

Alright, Cole, don’t panic, you can figure this out.

As long as he was alive, there was something he could do. Sure, he was hurt. And alone. And by no means immune to the Oni smoke. But he was conscious. And that meant he could come up with a plan. He could fix it.

He just had to remember how to move first.

Mentally preparing himself, Cole had gathered all his strength to try and sit upright. That simple task had left his entire body shaking with effort, the pain in his upper back flaring up anew. Wow, he didn’t know it could hurt more. Wonderful.

Come on, come on, just get up!

All he managed to do was lift his head up just barely. A sickening wet sound of skin unsticking from the bloodied floor made him regret it almost instantly. He laid it back down, too exhausted to try anything else for the time being. His skull was screwed, wasn’t it?

He wheezed, forcing some air into his burning lungs. The awful tickling feeling that followed made him cough violently and a familiar metallic taste filled his mouth.

Great. Perfect. Amazing. Just what he needed!

He had to be with the others, getting ready to fight the Oni army. A lot of help he was, lying here uselessly, staring at the broken glass roof he had fallen through. Reliable as always.

Steeling himself, Cole ordered his body to move. It didn’t listen. It only wailed in agony.

Please, please, just let me get up.

Not a single muscle budged. He couldn’t even feel his limbs. Only pain.

Everything stung and throbbed and burned, and he was getting desperate.

I need to get back to them.

Cole felt like a bug pinned to a cork board — not yet dead, not quite alive, and absolutely helpless.

Please…

A few angry tears rolled down his temples and got lost somewhere in his blood-soaked dreadlocks. Stupid body, failing him at the worst time possible. Stupid him, getting into this mess in the first place. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

His next attempt to inhale came with a horrible gurgling sound. Blood spilled out of his mouth. He gagged, trying to cough it up but only ended up sucking some of it back into his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. It felt as if he was being waterboarded but, instead of water, it was his very own blood choking him.

Another tear rushed towards the floor.

What a pathetic way to go. 

Here lies Cole, he couldn’t climb the ladder in time. Rest in peace, you useless earth boy.

Stupid, stupid death…

No!

He growled in frustration. Or was it just blood bubbling in his throat?

He couldn’t die in this forsaken place! Not like this, not now. His friends were risking their lives fighting the Oni, he had to be by their side! They were the last line of defence Ninjago had,  they couldn’t fail. He couldn’t let them down.

He refused to leave them.

He refused to die here.

He wouldn’t die here.

He wouldn’t.

He—

*** 

Jay’s hands were trembling.

They were clenched into fists as if still clinging to the wooden rung of the ladder. He remembered holding on to it for dear life as the accelerating boost from the engine threatened to blow him clean off. He remembered the giant cloud of the Oni fog that had covered the whole city getting further and further away. He remembered leaving his best friend behind.

Jay didn’t know how he’d gotten on the deck. He didn’t feel the hand on his shoulder trying to shake him out of the stupor. Surrounded by his teammates (not all of them, there was one missing), he couldn’t hear a word said to him. His own scream still rang loud in his ears.

They had lost him. Just like that. All it had taken was a mere second, a single misstep. Just a moment ago, Cole had been on the ladder right beside him. Just a moment ago, everything had been fine.

Now…

The blue ninja risked a glance over Zane’s shoulder. Nya was still at the helm, clutching the handles in a death grip, as if the Bounty would crash the second she let go. She was staring straight ahead, wide eyes glassy and unseeing. Silent tears ran down her cheeks like waterfalls. She was shaking.

Jay stepped out of the circle of his dismayed friends. Slowly, as if walking underwater, he came up to Nya and placed a careful hand on her back. She flinched.

“Nya.” It took Jay a while to find his voice. “Nya, please look at me.”

‘It wasn’t your fault’ he wanted to say. ‘It was an accident’ — that was the truth, they all knew it. ‘We’ll get him back’ was something he didn’t dare to hope for.

The words got stuck in his throat when the love of his life had finally turned to face him.

It was in that moment that he saw it — all that anguish in her eyes, all that pain. It was in that moment that he felt it full force, that his heart clenched painfully in his chest. 

It was at that moment that Jay stopped holding back tears.

***

Cole opened his eyes again. He didn’t remember closing them.

It took him a moment to come back to his senses and remember where he was.

Right. Some skyscraper in the middle of the evil Oni cloud. How could he forget?

He must’ve passed out.

Cole gritted his teeth.

Ugh, he didn’t have time for this!

Taking a nap while the rest of the team was giving their all in battle? Shame on you, Cole!

He had to get to the others and fast. If only his body would just—

Come on, stupid flesh suit, get up! I have to go!

Move!

And, to his surprise, move it did.

In a matter of seconds, he managed to sit up with little to no resistance from his battered and beaten body. He stared dumbly ahead, blinking a few times in confusion, not quite sure how that had even happened.

The scourging pain he was in just before blacking out had somehow reduced to dull, barely noticeable ache. His head no longer felt like it was splitting in two, just throbbed in a familiar kind of way. As if he had pulled an all-nighter and not just fallen from the height of what — an eight storey building or something. He felt…fine?

Huh.

Not that Cole was complaining or anything, but…that was just strange. Sure, he healed fast, but not that fast. No one healed that fast.

How long had he been out?

Maybe he was in so much pain it made him high? He vaguely remembered Pixal mentioning something like that. Though, if the earth ninja was being honest, most of the medical stuff usually flew right over his head. All those fancy words were a little too much for him.

Cole risked taking a deep breath and his lungs made a weird, near whistling sound but it didn’t hurt half as much as it did the last time he tried that. Actually, it barely hurt at all.

Yep, definitely high on some brain chemicals. It was the only explanation. Probably not a good thing, but he’d take that over lying immobilized on the floor anytime.

Soon enough, Cole was back on his feet. His legs trembled with tension and he swayed a little but, otherwise, it was a success. He made a few unsure steps, pointedly not looking back at the pool of blood and broken glass he’d left behind.

Speaking of broken glass — the roof panel he had smashed through had a gaping hole now, some of the fog already slipping inside. It was as good time as any to notice two ghosty tendrils reaching for him like snakes ready to strike. Cole remembered all too well what their death-cold clutch felt like. He wasn’t exactly eager to repeat the experience.

The black ninja quickly retreated to a safer room, sliding the door closed behind himself and locking it for good measure. The fog tentacles, that reminded him too much of those of the Preeminent, swayed behind the glass but didn’t try anything. Good. With that out of the way he could actually think of a plan.

“Think, Cole, think.”

Oh wow, his voice was raw. 

No wonder, his throat and mouth felt like they'd been clad in sandpaper. There was still that gross coppery taste on his tongue, and he could feel the now dried blood pulling on his skin. Cole cringed. He should probably clean himself up while thinking of a way out.

Thankfully, he ended up in the NG TV News building and not in some warehouse, so finding the closest bathroom wasn’t a problem.

Though he wasn’t quite prepared for what he saw in the mirror.

First Master, he was a mess.

He looked like he hadn’t slept in a year. His face was noticeably paler, with dark shadows around his eyes. Dried up blood covered his chin and neck, as if he had just eaten someone alive. Cole shook his head — bad comparison, very bad. Not what he needed right now.

He twirled around to see his back— oh shit, it was worse, so much worse. His entire back was soaked in blood, his gi ripped in several places, glass shards sticking out here and there. Though, he guessed, it was still a better view than whatever his body looked like underneath the clothes. It was probably just one giant bruise.

Cole made quick work of cleaning up his face and neck. He really didn’t want to freak his friends out once he rejoined them. Well, even more than he already had. Between the high fall and the petrifying smoke cloud, the others probably thought he was a goner. Heck, Cole had thought so himself not so long ago. 

Yeah, the blood definitely had to go. There wasn’t much he could do about his clothes, though. At least they were dark enough for the stains to not immediately catch one's eye. 

“Alright, now to the worst part.”

Carefully, he reached for the back of his head. The hair there was dump and heavy with blood and not exactly pleasant to the touch. Still, he moved the locks aside and gingerly prodded the wound.

“Agh!”

Cole pulled his hand back in horror and disgust. He didn’t really know what he’d been expecting but it certainly wasn’t this. He could only compare what he’d touched to a soft-boiled egg and he didn’t like that in the slightest. It was probably a good thing he couldn’t see it or else he would have retched for sure.

Cole wiped his hand on his pant leg compulsively.

Gross, gross, gross, gross, gross!

He really hoped it wasn’t his exposed brain he’d just poked.

Okay, it was okay. He’d deal with this thing after he got to the others. He’d ask Zane or Pixal to take a look when they’re not all in grave danger and have to defend the whole Realm. The injury was probably not even as serious as he’d imagined. Yeah, totally. He wouldn’t be up and running otherwise.

Right?

The earth ninja tore a piece of his belt and wrapped it around his head as a makeshift bandage. The wound seemed to have stopped bleeding, but he didn’t want to risk it.

How long had he been out again?

No time to ponder.

Next, he focused on the shards of glass stuck in his shoulders and back. They didn’t really bother him at the moment but they could be a hindrance in battle. So, holding his breath, Cole pulled out the biggest one he could reach. It didn’t hurt as much as it should have. He barely felt it.

Whatever magical self-produced painkillers he was on, Cole hoped the effect wasn’t going to wear off anytime soon. He couldn’t afford to just drop and writhe in pain in the middle of a fight. Or on his way to it.

Speaking of, he really needed to find a way to get out of there. His communicator was screwed but maybe he could get it to work somehow. He’d wasted enough time already.

Wait for me, guys.

Chapter Text

The fight against the Oni was…a blur.

Against all odds, Cole had successfully escaped the News Tower. He had even managed not to get frozen solid despite having inhaled some of the fog. Somehow. He had forced his epic entrance in the middle of the battle just in time to throw some Oni around with his trusty Earth Driller. 

Jay had called him a jerk for scaring them. Cole hadn’t mentioned how scared he had been himself. A moment later, the reforged Scythe of Quakes had been tossed his way and Cole had relished the familiar heaviness of his golden weapon. The power coursing through it. The way it had laid in his hand perfectly. Ah, he’d missed it.

The fight had continued. They’d been pushed back into the monastery, their combined strength still not enough to overpower the army of ancient demons. They had been losing ground. Losing the battle. Losing hope.

And that was when Lloyd had figured it out. It had been such an obvious solution, how come none of them had thought of it before? The one thing to defeat the forces of destruction was the Tornado of Creation!

Right when the heavy gates of the monastery had broken under the onslaught of the Oni army, the ninja had done what they did best. They’d spun.

And it'd worked. It had been just as surprising and disorienting as it had been the first time they’d done it, back in the Underworld. The Tornado had successfully created… something. Don’t ask him what, he had no idea. Probably a black hole that had sucked away all the Oni or some demon-erasing laser beam. That would explain why they were nowhere to be found after all had been done. 

Well, it wasn’t Cole’s job to know the logistics of the ultimate spinjitzu move. He’d take the win they were given, thank you.

After Lloyd had decided to give them all a scare by nearly dying (jokes on him, Cole had already done that) but promptly came back around, the whole ordeal was finally over.

With the threat eliminated and the adrenaline starting to wear off, it had been best to call it a day. The ninja had all dispersed to their respective rooms, more than happy to unwind and leave all of that Oni mess behind them.

The ruined gi had been unceremoniously tossed in the corner as Cole took a much needed shower. Mindful of the head wound, he scrubbed away the grime and caked blood still clinging to his skin. He tried not to look at the bright crimson stream running towards the drain. That was tomorrow's Cole problem.

Feeling like himself again for the first time since morning, he threw on a loose t-shirt and flopped face first onto his bed. He was so tired. Sleep took over almost immediately.

It had been one hell of a day.

***

The rope snapped.

He was falling.

Falling, falling, falling.

Breath caught up in his throat. He couldn’t even scream.

Darkness all around.

The sound of glass shattering.

The impact.

Nothing.

Cole woke up with a sharp jolt. 

The room seemed to shine with some weird green light for a moment but, as soon as he blinked, it was gone. 

Ah, paranoia, his old friend. You weren’t missed in the slightest.

Cole waited for his eyes to adjust. It was pitch dark outside, probably not even 4 a.m. yet. He wasn’t sure how much he’d slept, if he had at all. He crawled out of bed.

The reflection in the bathroom mirror wasn’t much different from the one that had greeted him at the NGTV News building. Skin pale, dreadlocks a disarray, eye-bags so big his gi didn’t need pockets anymore.

Frankly, he looked like shit.

Ugh, the end of the world was over, why couldn’t he just sleep?

With a long-suffering sigh, Cole leaned over to wash his face. As if a bit of water could rinse the nightmare off him. Or was it a memory? No way to tell.

With nothing better to do, he examined the cuts visible from under the collar of his t-shirt, checking them for the remaining glass. The scrapes were angry red, the crust yet to form over them, but otherwise looked fine. They barely stung as Cole poked and prodded, searching for anything that wasn’t supposed to be there. He found nothing.

The reflection looked back at him miserably.

What was he doing? He was supposed to be in bed, resting. Why was he picking at his wounds in the dead of the night instead of spending some quality time with the pillow?

Hoping to correct that mistake, Cole slipped under the covers. 

Come on, sleep, I’m waiting.

He nearly fell off the edge with how violently he jerked out of another vision. The moment he closed his eyes, he was falling again. Over and over as if he hadn’t had enough. Try as he might, he couldn’t go back to sleep.

There went his precious rest…

And that’s how Cole had found himself in the kitchen at too-damn-early o’clock, nursing a lonely cup of tea. He just sat there, half awake, as the first rays of sunlight leaked through the curtains and birds’ chirping filled the morning quiet.

The monastery slowly came back to life as well.

Soon enough, familiar sleepy faces started to peek in, followed by sluggish waves and yawned greetings.

Everyone was still rightfully exhausted after the big battle. One night of beauty sleep wasn’t nearly enough to make up for the past few weeks. So, the gallant ninja were about to spend their first day off either lying dormant in their rooms or roaming the halls lazily like a flock of zombies.

Cole had missed the moment Misako came in. It felt like he’d just blinked and she was already there, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. He must’ve zoned out.

Maybe he could ask her to take a look at his head and back. Misako was no longer just Lloyd’s mom — she was the mother of the whole team, a parental presence they all needed even if they wouldn’t admit it out loud. Cole felt like he could tell her anything.

Misako gathered some herbs and turned to leave. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t really know why. Some inner voice just begged him not to mention it, not to show her. Not to show anyone.

Cole spun the empty cup in his hand.

The head wound likely wasn’t even that bad. Because, come on, he didn’t even have a headache. Ignore the fact that Cole hadn’t dared to touch the wound ever since he had escaped. It was fine. He’d probably just overreacted back then. Touched some raised skin and immediately thought of the worst. Classic Cole.

The fall had been one hell of a scare and he had hit the ground pretty hard. No wonder he panicked and imagined all sorts of horrible things. Convinced himself he was immobilised and dying. It was a normal reaction, right?

But now he was safe and could think clearly. Could see that there was nothing to worry about. The others should enjoy their well deserved rest. He wasn’t going to bother them because of a bump and a few scrapes.

Zane started breakfast. How he had managed to sneak into the kitchen without Cole noticing was a mystery. Though, what else was he supposed to expect from a ninja?

By the time the nindroid served the freshly made pancakes, all the others had already gathered around the table, probably lured in by the mouth-watering smell. As the conversation around him came to life, Cole took the first bite.

It tasted awful. Which was ridiculous — Zane’s cooking was immaculate and Cole would fight anyone who dared to say otherwise. Plus, they were pancakes — there was nothing in them that could ruin the flavour that much.

And yet there he was, seconds away from spitting his breakfast back onto the plate.

He swallowed. 

Hopefully, Cole managed to hide a cringe as he felt every individual piece slide down his throat. The rest of the team didn’t seem to have any problems shovelling down their shares of baked goodness, so it must’ve been just him. It reminded the earth ninja of a time he had a high fever, when all the food was just tasteless and gross and chewing felt like a waste of energy.

Maybe that’s what happens when you breathe the evil petrifying smoke in one too many times.

Cole forced a few more mouthfuls down and excused himself.

***

Zane frowned as his eyes followed the black ninja out of the room. Cole seemed troubled. He had been sitting silently in the kitchen before the nindroid came in, so deep in thought he had completely ignored Zane’s greeting. And now he’d left mere minutes after the breakfast had started, two of his pancakes lying untouched on the plate. 

And that was the cause of Zane’s alarm. It wasn’t like Cole to leave a meal unfinished. What could’ve happened to make the earth ninja lose his appetite? Him, of all people.

Though, Zane had his guesses in that regard. It was a topic he was sure everyone would rather forget. He definitely would.

He didn’t know how Cole had survived both the high fall and the petrifying fog, and the thought kept nagging him in the back of his mind. But he never mentioned it. The last thing Zane wanted to do was to push his friend into discussing something he did not wish to share.

Still, the nindroid couldn’t help but feel deeply concerned.

The others didn’t seem to notice anything amiss — they continued their meal, talking and laughing between bites like usual. All but one. From across the table, he caught Nya’s dismayed glance. She felt it, too. Zane gave her a tiny nod of acknowledgment.

Yes, I am worried about him as well.

***

Cole returned to his room. The unmade bed welcomed him to take a nap but he didn’t feel like it. Not even because of the nightmares — he just wasn’t sleepy. Which was weird. He should be exhausted like everyone else, especially considering that he had barely slept. 

Usually he was all for idling about when there was a chance. But instead he felt…restless. Anxious even. As if something bad was about to happen. Or had already happened.

Cole knew the feeling, he’d bet they all did. It often came after a major battle. When you spend weeks alert and on edge, readying yourself for the fight against the big bad, it’s hard to relax even with the threat being long dealt with.

It was nothing new. He just had to get his mind off those things, get immersed in some peaceful routine, find something to occupy himself with.

A distraction. Yeah. That’s what he needed.

The earth ninja looked around his room, hoping the solution would just drop from the ceiling. Just like him. It did not. The room was tidy enough for nothing to catch his eye and the only thing out of place was his torn and bloodied gi crumpled up on the floor. He should probably do something about it. Maybe try and wash it or patch it up…

Cole put on a clean hoodie and left.

***

So remember the pool of blood Cole had chosen not to look at upon regaining consciousness?

Yeah, he was looking at it now.

And, First Master, it was huge.

Cole was back in the NGTV News tower. He had come, hoping to clean up the mess he’d left behind before some unfortunate employee earned themselves a heart attack. 

See? This wasn’t just some weird tick, it was him being responsible. Yeah.

The building was still as gloriously deserted as it had been the day before, albeit better lit without the wall of the Oni fog surrounding it, so the timing was perfect. Too bad the earth ninja hadn’t really taken his own mental health into account when coming up with the idea.

Simply being here was…unsettling, to say the least. After all, it was a place he’d believed he’d spend his final moments in.

Looking at the bloody puddle he had crawled out of less than a day ago? Nerve wracking. Very much so.

Cole knew head wounds were supposed to bleed a lot. But this? Was it really his own? All of it?

It was probably one of those things he really shouldn’t think about too much.

With a mop and a bucket in his hands, Cole got to work. The blood had already dried but, with enough effort, came off rather easily. The earth ninja hummed a tune from a video game to drown out the sound of glass scraping the floor.

Ha! Look at him — doing chores of his own free will instead of enjoying his long overdue break. He’d gone mad for sure. Jay would never let him hear the end of it if he found out.

Despite Cole’s best efforts not to look directly at any part of the puddle, his eyes kept coming back to a dark glob of something, sitting pretty much in the middle of it. The thing was shapeless and moist and— shit, he really had to stop staring at it. 

With excessive force, Cole swabbed the spot until there was nothing left.

As perfect day as any to skip breakfast — now he had nothing to puke out just thinking about what that glob might have been. If he’d connected its size and placement on the floor and—

Nope, nope, not thinking about it.

One compulsive scrub down and two buckets of bloody water later, Cole deemed the floors clean enough and his job done.

The glass panel would have to be replaced but, otherwise, the ninja had basically erased all the traces of his stay there. Too bad he couldn’t erase them from his mind.

Despite his little clean up trip feeling like it’s only taken two hours max, when Cole returned to the monastery, it was already dusk. One quick look around the place showed that his absence hadn’t been noticed. Which was actually a relief. Cole really didn’t feel like explaining his sudden urge to mop the floors in the news tower to the team. 

They…they didn’t need to know.

Quietly, he slipped back into his room, hoping to finally take a good long nap. The dark heap in the corner greeted him like the eyesore it was.

Cole burned his ruined gi behind the monastery.

Chapter Text

Another nightmare. Another sleepless night. Another sunrise met in solitude. 

This time Cole had settled on the roof of the monastery with a pack of cookies. It reminded him of his early days of mountain climbing. How he’d greet the dawn at the very top, the clouds painted golden and the air chilly and fresh. How he’d forget all his troubles and breathe deeply without the chains of grief constricting his chest. How grounded he’d feel despite being so close to the skies. Just him, the mountain and the sleepy world below. Beautiful. Peaceful. Free.

Cole didn’t know if he could ever climb a mountain again.

Something about the breakneck height now felt less daring and exciting and more—

Snapping rope. Broken glass. Pain.

—appalling.

The very thing that used to liberate him was now haunting his sleep. All because of one stupid mistake.

The nightmares seemed to be getting worse, too. It was no longer just him falling, no. It was the glass piercing his skin, tearing the muscles, the blood choking him, lungs failing, the Oni fog engulfing him completely until all he could feel was the ice-cold embrace of death.

Were a few pathetic hours of sleep even worth it?

Cole was no stranger to nightmare induced insomnia. It sucked big time, but he’d been through worse. Only the last time it’d happened he’d nearly ended up with his head split open and the worm-hole to the Departed realm finding its place in the world of the living. The mere memory had him shivering in discomfort. Surely, this time it wasn’t anything as drastic, right? They’ve already defeated the primary form of evil, what else was there to beware? Besides, everything he’d been seeing was merely the worse version of what had already happened. Probably just his mind trying to cope with the near death experience, that’s all.

Still, Cole couldn’t help but worry that his dreams could, once again, be a warning. A blaring siren, an alarm bell screaming about a severe malfunction. 

Or maybe it was just his good old friend — paranoia.

The earth ninja took a bite of his cookie, hoping to at least eat away the anxiety. It tasted like dirt and dried blood.

A pool of crimson. Dark thick blood. Shards of glass. Splinters of his fractured skull.

Cole fed the rest of it to the birds.

***

Time is pretty elusive when you haven’t slept for two nights in a row.

At some point Cole caught himself aimlessly roaming the halls of the monastery. The floorboards creaked softly under his feet. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d ended up there, didn’t even recall getting off the roof. Must’ve zoned out again.

It was probably a strange comparison, but the empty corridor reminded him of his childhood home. Once filled with music and laughter, now quiet and devoid of life, save for a sad little boy left to take care of it. He would sweep the floors, wipe the dust off his father’s trophies, prepare a more or less edible dinner for himself. And then he would eat. Alone.

The silence was oppressive.

With her gone and with his dad away on rehearsals the place felt entirely too big. Hollow and still. Grieving, just like him.

Some part of him wanted to blame his dad for abandoning him at a time like this, for leaving him to deal with that loss, one on one with the pain.

The other part…understood. He knew all too well that feeling, that need to escape, to run away as far as possible and bury yourself in work — be it mountain climbing or chopping wood — until you tire yourself out to the point you’re too exhausted to even think, let alone process emotions. Cole understood that. After all, he had done the exact same thing. Twice.

He finally stopped walking in circles and went towards the only current source of noise in the house. He found Jay and Lloyd playing video games in the common area. For some reason Cole didn’t feel like joining them. So he kept going.

Soon enough he approached the kitchen. Coming from it, were the unmistakable sounds of seething oil and a spatula scraping a skillet. He peeked inside to see Kai frying eggs and bacon for breakfast.

The smell of burning fabric. Fiery embers dancing in the chilly night air. His gi a pile of ash on the forest floor.

Cole left before the red ninja had even set out the plates.

***

Kai stretched and massaged his sore neck, a reminder of an unfortunate sleeping position. Though, if having a chance, he would’ve stayed in it for a few more blissful hours. Not even Master Wu’s training methods had made Kai a morning person.

He flipped the frying pan in his hand for no particular reason before setting it down onto a working burner. The red ninja yawned widely, for once not afraid of a certain sibling of his to stick her finger into his open mouth as if he was a cat. That peaceful solitude was probably the only upside of having to get up extra early to make breakfast for everyone.

A generous portion of oil hit the heated surface of the pan with a loud hiss, spewing hot droplets in every direction. Kai hissed back at it just because he could. The kitchen was only big enough for one person with an attitude.

One by one he cracked open the eggs, some of the yolks popping and making a mess despite his best efforts. Zane was probably the only one who always managed to make those look all picture-perfect. It was almost annoying.

Humming a tune under his breath, Kai fetched a pack of bacon and shoved the first slice right into his mouth before adding the rest of it to the whitening eggs. Yah, being the chef for one morning did have its perks.

Something flickered in the corner of his vision and he turned to greet the early bird who turned out to be Cole. The guy looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

Kai could only raise an eyebrow when his teammate all but ran out of the kitchen without even saying hello. The master of fire might’ve taken offense to that, but it was hardly the first instance of Cole acting strangely after the whole Oni ordeal.

The day before, when Zane made his famous pancakes, the black ninja hadn’t even asked for seconds! Which was a blasphemy on its own — Zane’s cooking was the best and they all knew it — but twice as weird when it came to Cole. The guy loved food! And he was a stress-eater too, so if anything was bothering him, he’d be stuffing his face with whatever he’d found in the kitchen, not avoiding the place. 

Kai frowned, biting the inside of his cheek.

Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t remember seeing Cole at lunch or dinner. Or seeing him throughout the day for that matter. So unless the earth ninja had a huge stash of snacks in his room that he refused to share, something was seriously wrong.

Kai stirred the sizzling bacon before it could burn. He would have to go talk to his brother.

***

More than a little frustrated, Cole stood in front of the mirror again, this time shirtless. He twisted and turned, rising on his tiptoes, trying to take a proper look at his shoulders and back. The mirror was rather small and hung too high to fully assess the damage. It gave him an uncomfortable sense of deja vu.

No matter how much he picked at them, the wounds wouldn’t hurt or bleed. That would’ve been amazing in any other circumstances, but there was a problem. What worried him the most was that they didn’t seem to heal either. They looked just as fresh as they had the moment he’d first seen them. Not even the thinnest layer of crust on the glass cuts.

Surely there was an explanation for that.

Cole had nearly slammed himself into the edge of the sink, startled by a sudden knock on the door. It was soft and haste-less but still made his guts clench with dread. Like he’d been caught doing something illegal. 

He’d been so jumpy lately.

The person on the other side knocked again and Cole had to fight the urge to just pretend he wasn’t there. He didn’t know why.

“Cole, may I come in?”

Sensei Wu?

What was he even doing there?

“Uuuh, just a second!”

Quickly, Cole threw his hoodie back on, smoothing the fabric to the best of his ability. He felt guilty for some reason.

He opened the door to his room and hoped he didn’t sound too weird.

“Come on in, Master.” 

His Sensei stepped inside, face calm and amicable but in his eyes was something indecipherable. Typical Master Wu.

The door behind him closed with a soft click.

“I noticed you weren’t at breakfast with us.”

Oh, wow, he got straight to the point for once.

“Yeah, I…” Cole fumbled, something about Wu’s inquisitive gaze making him extra uncomfortable, “I had an early morning snack.”

Or at least he had tried to. So technically not a lie. He hated lying to his Master. Or anyone, really. He was never good at it anyway.

Wu studied him for a few seconds but let it slide with a hum of acknowledgment.

“I see.”

Cole squinted a little at him. He’d known his Sensei long enough to understand that this wasn’t the end of this spontaneous chat.

“You’re not here to ask about the breakfast, right?” he prompted, “Anything I can do for you, Master?”

For a second, Wu looked almost proud, but then his expression got gravely serious.

“I want you to tell me what happened before the battle with the Oni.” Cole’s stomach dropped. He was so not ready for this. “I believe it would be best, for both of us, if I heard it from you.”

No.

Cole bit his tongue.

Don’t make me do this.

Please.

I don’t want to remember it.

I don’t want you to know.

“I’d rather not….talk about that.”

For some reason it made Sensei smirk.

“You have just deprived me of the main topic of conversation.”

“Sorry.” I can’t, I just can’t. “It’s just not something I want to discuss.” Wu’s face fell at those words and Cole suddenly felt like an asshole. He quickly added, “At least not now.”

Lies. 

He didn’t want to talk about it period .

He just wanted to forget it’d ever happened.

His Sensei sighed but otherwise seemed content enough with the answer. He sat down on the edge of Cole’s bed and patted the place beside him.

“Would you care to listen instead?”

Cole flopped down beside him, relieved. It was the least he could do.

“When the ninja returned, they told me that you…didn’t make it.” Wow, Cole didn’t know it could get more awkward. But there he was. The others had believed he had died. For a moment even he had believed he had died. It was only natural that they had delivered the news, however awful, to their Sensei. But Cole had not died. He was okay. And now it all felt like a cruel prank on everyone involved. 

Wu’s gaze was distant and almost mournful as he continued to speak softly.

“My heart refused to accept that. It claimed: No, not Cole. He would have never left his brothers and sister unprotected. Not even in the face of certain doom .”

Ouch, that hurt a little.

“As a foundation of the team, you put a lot of pressure on yourself, you always have. And I’ve let you, because I never once doubted that you could handle it.” Master Wu had finally turned to face him. Something almost akin to admiration in his eyes. “You are strong, Cole, but you are also human. There’s no shame in sharing the burden with the people who love you. And the ninja and I love you very, very much.”

Oh.

Cole felt like it was as good time as any to tear up. For some reason, he found that he couldn’t.

Still, the words sent warmth through his heart.

“I know.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Master Wu smiling in that fatherly way of his.

“So tell me. Is there anything I can do for you now, Cole?”

The earth ninja averted his eyes, some of the earlier unease slipping back into place.

He just wanted to forget it. The fall, the tower, the fog. Everything.

“I…I would like to be left alone for a little while. If that’s okay.”

Wu nodded.

“Of course. I’ll let the others know.”

Cole risked another glance in the other’s direction. Despite the words, there was a deep kind of sadness settling in his Master’s eyes and Cole, once again, felt awful. He looked away, ashamed of himself. He had been offered help, an ear to rant to, a shoulder to cry on, and he had just…turned it all down, choosing to mope around in self pity.

Just like back then.

What was he doing? He was supposed to be with the others, resting, having fun. Not locking himself away with only his dismal thoughts for company!

He shouldn’t make that mistake again.

“Sensei—“

There was no one in the room aside from him. Master Wu had left him alone, just like Cole had asked. The corner of the bed he’d occupied was already cold. 

How long had Cole been sitting here, staring at the floor?

His earlier resolve vanished without a trace and, somehow, the bed seemed all the more comfortable now. He lay down, legs still dangling over the edge.

Maybe, just maybe, he could catch some sleep now.

Cole fished out his phone and scrolled one of his many playlists. His thumb hovered over the song he hadn’t listened to in a long while. It was an old thing from a cartoon he really loved as a kid. Soft and soothing. Just what he needed.

He hit the play button and closed his eyes.

***

A couple of days had passed. Cole still couldn’t sleep. The thoughts, the visions wouldn’t let him. He was so sick of reliving that fall over and over again.

Above all, it was frustrating, because no matter what, he still wasn’t exhausted enough to simply pass out. No, he was stuck like this. Lying in bed like an idiot in hopes of getting some repose.

Sleep wasn’t the only thing he’d spectacularly failed at. He hadn’t eaten in 4 days. He didn’t remember the last time he’d drunk anything aside from that midnight tea in the kitchen. It all seemed familiar in the worst way. He wasn’t hungry or thirsty, he didn’t feel tired. He didn’t feel much of anything. How long can a human even go without those things? Keyword: human. Shouldn’t he be feeling the consequences right about now? 

He remembered not needing anything to live because he hadn’t been living at all.

He was just coming down with something, right? The Oni smoke he’d so carelessly inhaled back then must’ve messed him up pretty bad. But surely the effects would wear off soon. He just had to be patient and let the taint get out of his system. Walk it off and whatnot. Easy peasy. Nothing to freak out about.

“I don’t feel anything anymore.”

Nothing at all.

***

Cole felt weightless.

There was no earth under his feet. No ground to support him. No one to catch him.

He was floating. Falling, he was falling. Falling to his death. He couldn’t move. He was back in the tower again. Alone. Helpless. Dying . He was dying. He couldn’t feel his limbs. He tasted blood. The team wasn’t coming. No one would save him. They didn’t know he was here — he’d cleaned up the blood. They wouldn’t find him. He would die here alone. He couldn’t breathe. He didn’t need to. His body didn’t listen. He was dead.

Cole opened his eyes. Everything was green. He couldn’t move. He was still floating- falling- dying . 

He sobbed. It sounded wrong in his ears. Distorted and echoey, as if coming from a damaged record. Familiar. He sobbed again and again, he couldn’t help it.

If only he could get to the bathroom. He just needed to wash his face and wake up. Just wake up and it would be fine. He would be fine. He just needed to get up.

He needed to get up before he died.

Cole somehow missed the moment when he’d ended up on the floor, but, frankly, it was the last thing on his mind. On shaky, jelly legs, he stumbled into the bathroom and met the terrified expression in the mirror.

An empty reflection. Broken fate. Lost future.

The other him was holding on to the sink with trembling hands. He was catching air with his mouth, trying and failing to fill his lungs. He looked like death. His eyes were wide with fear, green and glowing. 

Why were his eyes glowing?!

Aghast, Cole recoiled, his back crashing into the doorframe. Something crunched. It sounded like glass. 

Shattered roof panel. Shards sparkling mockingly in a pool of his blood.

Thoughts, like a thousand butterflies, fluttered inside his head in panic. Too quick to catch, too fleeting to process. The floor beneath him swam and wavered like quicksand. His legs refused to listen. He was bursting at the seams, control leaking through his fingers like smoke. 

Freezing cold smoke tendrils grabbing him, holding him down, dragging him towards the darkness.

He couldn’t feel his limbs, free falling through the solid ground. He was floating—falling—dying. He was dying, soul leaving his body, he could feel it, he was dying, dying, dying —

And then everything stopped.

He wasn’t slipping anymore. Wasn’t falling.

For one awfully long moment it was deadly quiet and Cole felt the horrifyingly familiar numbness.

No.

Behind him, something hit the ground with a heavy thud.

Cole flinched. He refused to look. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to. He knew what he’d see. 

No, he couldn’t be. 

Not again!

He just stood there, rooted to the spot, as realization washed over him like an ice-cold wave. His insides felt hollow and weightless. His vision was tinted sickly green, clear of the panicked tears that just wouldn’t come. 

Please, anything but this…

His nonexistent lungs filled with nothing as he sucked in one fake breath after another. His heart wasn’t hammering in his chest because it wasn’t beating at all.

This can’t be happening.

He was shaking.

I’m a ghost…

Cole looked down at his hands. They were green and see-through. They were trembling.

I’m a ghost.

Slowly, as if in a trance, he turned around. He didn’t want to see it, but something forced him to look. 

Behind him, on the floor, was a body. His body. Completely still. Broken and breathless. Dead.

I’m a ghost.

Chapter Text

Cole didn’t want to believe it. He desperately wished it was merely his own mind playing tricks on him. Just another bad dream. Just another fake scenario made up by his sleep deprived brain. 

But the evidence spoke for itself. Nothing could be more in-the-face than staring down at his own lifeless body illuminated by the unnatural green light.

He was a ghost. Again.

It felt as if it had barely been a moment since he had escaped that nightmare, only to be thrown right back into it. At least the first time it had been Master Yang who’d cursed him. Now Cole could only blame himself.

Back then, in the News building, he hadn’t just passed out, had he?

He had died.

And, apparently, he was too stubborn to just kick the bucket like a normal person. No, instead he had turned into a ghost (again!) and ended up possessing his own… his own corpse. And he hadn’t even noticed!

A dead man walking.

Cole almost laughed.

It sounded like a bad horror movie. Only this movie was his life now. If he could even call it that.

Hadn’t he died enough times already?

And it wasn’t even epic or meaningful! He hadn’t sacrificed himself like Zane once had. He hadn’t given his life in a battle while protecting someone. He hadn’t even gotten ambushed by some powerful enemy. No, he just fell.

It was his ghost situation all over again! Sensei Garmadon had offered himself up for a curse in order to save them all. Morro had died tragically, chasing his own ambitions, hence ended up in the Cursed Realm. And Cole just…couldn’t run fast enough.

He was a joke, wasn’t he?

With nothing better to do, the earth ninja squatted beside, well, himself. It was a disturbing sight. Were he not a ghost with emotions muted to a bare minimum he would’ve had a breakdown over it. That spike of crushing fear from mere moments ago had already burned out. As if it had  never been there.

Now he was just…upset? Exasperated? Tired?

Definitely tired.

Out of morbid curiosity, Cole lifted up the hoodie. His back was like a messily painted canvas — bruises from olive green to almost black ran across his ribs and shoulders, the glass cuts of all sizes standing out with their stark redness. If it hadn’t been a corpse, especially his own, Cole could’ve called the colour scheme captivating. Merely from an artist’s perspective.

In every other sense it was odious.

There was a huge piece of glass still sticking out from under his shoulder blade, almost like the base of a broken wing. Although the comparison was way too poetic for the circumstances.

And he’d been walking around with this thing? It’s been days, how had he not noticed it before? Cole winced in something akin to disappointment and pulled it out. The wound didn’t bleed. Why would it?

Now the only thing left to examine was his head. Finally came the moment he’d been putting off forever, huh? Already preparing for the worst, he reached for the back of his — the other his — head and moved away the dreadlocks.

“Shit.”

Cole could’ve said that this was exactly what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t, not really. He simply lacked the medical knowledge to picture a cranium fracture accurately. Now he didn’t need to. A piece of his skull was simply missing and the inside was a mess of all the shades of pink and red known to mankind.

And he’d called it a bump.

Good thing ghosts couldn’t barf.

Not willing to stare at it any longer, Cole chose to settle back into his very dead body. It was a strange experience, the one he didn’t think he could describe even if he tried. It felt like dissolving and taking form at the same time, spreading his essence to every limb, every cavity, taking control over every part, filling it. He felt like an intruder in his own home.

Like a hefty marionette he sat up, stiff muscles merely doing his bidding. He could tell the difference now, be it a good or a bad thing. The body moved because he ordered it to, not because it still could.

It belongs in a grave.

Cole nearly jumped from the dark thought that echoed in his head in that familiar ghosty voice. His own voice. From back then.

Great.

Because a creepy voice of his past self shitting morbid comments right into his brain was exactly what he needed.

Pulling the hood out of the way, Cole prodded his neck the way Zane had taught him. A moment passed, then another, and another. Yep, no pulse. What was he even hoping for?

At least he was still warm…

Just as he thought, him possessing the body did not revive it. No, that would’ve been too good. It didn’t start the heart, didn’t resume breathing, didn’t induce any other natural processes. All it seemed to do was preserve his body in its original state. Well, more or less original.

Would you rather it decayed?

“Good grief.”

Cole rubbed his eyes with a little more force than necessary. He registered the pressure, but there was no pain, no lingering sensation, no relief. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting.

Deciding that he’d had enough unsettling discoveries for one day, or, technically, night, if the starry darkness behind the window was anything to go by, Cole got up from the floor. He opened his only closet and started rummaging through the drawers. 

With how many times both the monastery and the Bounty had been destroyed, Cole was genuinely surprised they all had any personal belongings left. But there it was, his old anti-possession gi, embedded with Deepstone no ghost could phase through. Ronin had pulled some strings to get those before their journey to the Cloud Kingdom. Though, Cole never got to wear his, for obvious reasons.

Who would’ve thought that one day he’d need all this gear to keep a ghost inside a body. Granted that the ghost was him and Cole really couldn’t risk un-possessing himself every time he got a little stressed. Their lives weren’t exactly a walk in the park.

His hand dug deeper into the left corner of the drawer to fish out one of his trusty bandanas. Better keep the head wound secured at all times. He’d been lucky so far — well, relatively — but one unfortunate gust of wind could expose his little secret to whoever stood the closest before Cole could even say ‘ops’.

With the Deepstone undershirt sitting snug under his hoodie and the bright orange bandana wrapped tightly around his head, the earth ninja deemed it safe to step outside.

***

Nya saw Cole sneak out of his room.

He didn’t seem to notice her in the thick darkness of the kitchen as he walked right past the door and instead made his way outside. It was the middle of the night, Nya herself had come there for a glass of water, once again, unable to sleep. 

Despite the ninja currently being on their well deserved break, night rest was the luxury she could not enjoy. Something about the late hour’s quietness made it impossible to defend oneself from the things kept under lock and key during the day. The memories, the thoughts, the nightmares.

Nya wondered if it was the nightmares that kept Cole awake as well. The nightmares she had given him.

Was he seeing the same thing she was?

Deep down, did he too believe it was her fault?

Did he hate her for what she’d put him through?

Murderer.

Nya flinched so hard she nearly dropped her glass.

No!

No, no, it wasn’t like that! Sure, she’d made a terrible mistake, one that had almost cost her teammate’s life. But Cole had survived. He might not be truly okay, not yet, maybe he never will, but he was right there with them. She hadn’t… she hadn’t killed him.

Still, every time Nya didn’t see the earth ninja among the others, her heart sank. Because, for one horrifying moment, she would be brought back to that day. To that quiet horror, to that crushing silence of the Bounty, to that settling realisation that one of them would not be coming home. She could hear Jay’s heart-rending scream, could see Master Wu’s grief-stricken face, could feel the burning weight of the golden weapon that didn’t belong to her.

And then she would remember. She would be able to breathe again. But that relief would be bitter sweet. Because even though, by some miracle, Cole had made it out alive, he wasn’t in a state to join them. Because of her.

They’ve all been together long enough to know each other’s coping mechanisms. Cole wasn’t the type to share his struggles, instead choosing to isolate himself until whatever had been bothering him was dealt with. And this was exactly what he’d been doing these past few days — keeping to himself, avoiding others, asking for space.

Cole was hurting.

She had hurt him.

Nya could feel her throat constrict with the upcoming tears.

After defeating the big bad, they celebrated, they rested, they had fun. Everyone acted like everything was back to normal. But it wasn’t. It was so far from normal while seeming so peaceful and mundane, Nya wanted to scream. 

The first tear hit the floor.

Nothing was fine.

***

The sky was a deep denim blue colour, no moon in sight.

Ghosts didn’t need sleep and neither did Cole’s body. Not anymore. So as soon as nights fell, he was left roaming the neighbourhood in hope to find something to occupy himself with. Again.

‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead.’ Ha! He couldn’t even do that.

The nights felt entirely too long, but the days weren’t much better. It’d been nearly a week since the battle with the Oni and the ninja were still on their break. There were no missions, no patrolling, no training. Nothing. Everyone just chilled, and Cole couldn’t blame them. But he needed a distraction. Because if he thought of his situation for a little too long, he’d go insane.

So he was in a constant search of things to do.

It was plain sad how easily he slipped into the routine of those days. As if nothing had changed from back then.

Cole sighed, the gesture purely symbolic. He did not miss being a ghost. It was a permanent state of discomfort. The overall numbness, the dismality that came with it, the sepulchral coldness settled deep in his metaphorical bones. 

He especially didn’t miss flickering like a dying lightbulb, struggling to maintain physical form and desperately clinging to the living world he no longer belonged to.

Frankly, it sucked.

Despite all the fun perks that came along, it never truly felt okay. It felt like a never ending nothing. He’d gotten used to it eventually (though it wasn’t like he had much of a choice), but nothing could beat being a living breathing human again.

And there he was, back to ground zero.

Fantastic.

Well, at least now he didn’t have to worry about fading away or having a random sprinkler melting him into nothingness. With a body to possess, it was almost as if he was still alive. Almost.

If he played his shitty cards right, Cole could pretend he was fine. And that was exactly what he intended to do. 

He couldn’t let the others know. He’d seen the way Nya looked at him, all guilt and devastation. Her daring, shrewd eyes — sunken and bloodshot from crying. A million apologies seconds away from spilling out of her mouth. She seemed fragile, way too close to breaking down. Not like the Nya he knew at all.

You did this to her.

Perhaps. 

If he’d been more careful, if he’d just been fast enough, all of it could’ve been avoided. But there was nothing they could do about it now, was there? Cole paid his price, however high, but knowing that Nya was suffering because of it too, was almost worse.

No matter what everyone had told her, she blamed herself for what happened. Cole didn’t know how to convince her that none of that was her fault. It was an accident, they all knew it. Any of them could’ve been in Nya’s place. But it was her at the helm, so she took every ounce of responsibility no one wanted her to carry.

How would she feel if she was to find out Cole had actually died back then?

He decided not to think of it. Ever.

They’ve all had enough trauma for a couple of lifetimes.

So Cole just had to… keep his death a secret. Right. How hard could that be?

Clearly, he needed a plan. A list of things to avoid and of measures to take so he could smooth out the rough edges and shape his new state into some sort of normalcy. Just enough to fit in, just enough for the others to not notice.

Yeah, because it worked so well for you the last time.

He’d be the sneaky ninja he was.

Mental note number one: Things to avoid.

Well, firstly, the medical check up he’d been putting off was an obvious no-go. His slightly incompatible with life injuries and the lack of pulse would be a dead (ha!) give away.

Secondly, he couldn’t let the others see the wounds under any circumstances. The non-healing mess on his back would only get more suspicious with time, so he better keep a shirt on, long sleeve preferably.

Thirdly—

Whom are you trying to fool? Them or yourself?

—don’t listen to the creepy voice at the back of your head.

Mental note number two: Things to do.

Obviously, sitting in his room all day had been a mistake from the beginning. The others were clearly getting suspicious and worried, which was the exact thing he’d like to prevent. Cole had to fix that and finally start taking part in the group activities. But they weren’t doing anything at the moment. This was actually the laziest they’ve ever been, even Master Wu didn’t try to get on their case and make them train. Was Cole just supposed to play video games 24/7? Since when did that stop being appealing to him? Surely there were other things he could do to show everyone he was fine.

Fraud.

Maybe he could work out in the common area? Ask someone for a nice spar? Probably Kai, he’d never say no to a good old fight. Or Nya — perhaps this could convince her that everything was perfectly cool between them. Get them both out of their heads for a while.

That actually sounded like a great idea.

Let’s see how long you can hide a corpse among the living.

“Not helping.”

Not trying to.

“Asshole.”

Great, now he was full on arguing with himself. Just the cherry on top.

Mental note number one. 

P.S. Don’t talk back to the creepy voice. It’s weird.

***

It was already around noon when Cole returned to the monastery. If it helped him avoid breakfast again, who could blame him? He was on his way to the common room when Jay suddenly approached him with confident, almost angry steps.

“What’s going on with you?”

You mean in general or right this second?

“Huh?”

“Don’t ‘huh’ at me, you’ve been acting all weird lately and it’s starting to freak us out.” Jay wasted no time, cornering Cole right in the middle of the hallway. He seemed troubled. Frustrated. 

Before Cole could open his mouth, he continued.

“You don’t hang out with us, you don’t tell us what’s wrong, you disappear in the middle of the night — don’t look at me like that, you’re not that sneaky — and you avoid the kitchen like it’s stuffed with rat poison. So I’ll ask again, what’s going on, Cole?”

Here went his perfect plan…

“Nothing,” he tried. Jay squinted at him in clear disapproval. “Nothing, really. Just haven’t been sleeping well lately, that’s all.”

That was only part-lie.

“You do look like shit,” the other agreed, breaking the stern character a little bit. Wouldn’t be Jay if he didn’t use the opportunity to jab at him. It gave Cole a bit of hope that maybe, maybe he could joke his way out of this conversation. He gasped in mock-offence.

“Rude.”

“Seriously, Cole, what’s wrong?”

Ah, there it was. That genuine concern in Jay’s eyes that caused Cole’s dead, un-beating heart to clench painfully in his chest. Made him feel even worse for what he was about to do.

“I…I dunno what to tell you, man. I’m fine.”

Lies. 

Blatant lies.

Right to his best friend’s face.

The blue ninja was full on frowning now, his expression shifting into one of annoyance. It was almost intimidating. He sighed, not looking at Cole anymore.

“Whatever, keep your secrets, but you gotta know it’s taking a toll on the team. The others won’t say anything but I know they feel just as uneasy as I do — Wu and Zane are watching you like you’d vanish into thin air, Kai looks ready to kick your door down, First Master knows what’s on Lloyd’s mind, really, and Nya… she can’t sleep because she’s too worried about you, too guilty for what happened. You haven’t seen her back then, you don’t know. Don’t know how hard a blow it had been for her.” He finally looked back up with a glare and a sharp poke to Cole’s chest. “So either spit it out or cut the crap. If you won’t let us help, fine, but don’t just shut yourself out like a few minutes with us will kill you.”

It’s a little too late for that.

Cole was hit with a crushing wave of guilt. He’d been so selfish. Jay was right, he had to pull himself together, he’d taken way too long with this. Too focused on his own troubles to notice how his behaviour had been affecting the others, too worried about getting caught to see the harm he’d been causing. Stupid. Just because his luck was shit, it didn’t mean he had to drag everyone down with him. 

He met his friend’s gaze with a small smile.

“…Gotcha.”

Jay looked… disappointed. Cole’s been getting a lot of that lately.

The Master of Lightning snorted in open distrust but left him alone. Cole could only watch him go.

Sorry I died again.

Chapter Text

As it turned out, Cole did need sleep.

Though, not in the sense one would expect. It wasn’t his body that needed to recharge (his body didn’t need much of anything anymore), but Cole himself.

The way he had found that out hadn’t been the most graceful. It resulted in a broken desktop lamp and an additional creepy image to rotate in his head during the particularly nasty nights. 

He’d been trying to draw when the lightbulb had suddenly decided to die on him. He could relate. 

As Cole’d tried to unscrew the thing, he realized that he could barely coordinate his fingers, as if they’d fallen asleep and no longer listened to him. He’d been noticing that more often lately, but just blamed it on the whole ‘being dead’ thing.

Screw it. Jay can handle the shitty bulb — he’d thought back then. But just as Cole had grabbed the poor lamp off the table, the last bit of control kissed him goodbye.

He could only watch as his ghost arm had slid out of his physical one, the lifeless limb now hanging grotesquely like a peeled off wallpaper. Without proper focus the lamp had gone right though his intangible grasp and smashed against the floor. 

Cole knew better than to try and pick it up. 

Needless to say, the sketchbook had been left untouched that day.

He was lucky no one had been around to witness this horror show.

Apparently, possession required plenty of energy, even with a dead non-resistant vessel such as his own. It was like constantly keeping your fists clenched — not hard initially, but became more and more bothersome as time went by. So in order to be at his finest when needed, Cole had to take breaks.

So he slept. Sort of. More like he lay down and let go of control, allowing the Deepstone clothing to do all the work of keeping him inside. He wasn’t sure what a long term absence would do to his already mangled body.

It will rot like it was meant to do.

He’d rather not risk it.

Sleeping — is that what we’re calling it now? — was better than wandering around, he guessed. Better than haunting the neighbourhood like the restless spirit he was. Less chances of getting caught and raising uncomfortable questions. 

He was still conscious though, which was a bummer. All he could do was think.

And boy, did his thoughts get dark quickly.

So he had to ward those off while he was at it. Grab them before they could fully form, lock them up in a box deep, deep down and hope against hope that they wouldn’t break free and drive him insane.

Very relaxing.

This sleep-not-sleep was a lot like meditating. Only every time Cole closed his eyes, he feared he’d never open them again. That one day his broken body would just refuse to obey him and he’d end up stuck in it, not even capable of calling for help. That the others would find him, grieve him, not knowing that he was still in there. He would scream and beg, a prisoner of his own body, unseen, unheard, just like back then, as they buried him alive- no, not alive, he was a ghost, the undead, six feet under, conscious and trapped for all eternity in a body that wasn’t alive yet could never truly die. Not departed. Not gone. Forever there. Alone—

See, this was exactly the kind of shit Cole wasn’t allowed to ponder.

In the box you go.

Tricky thoughts, just waiting for his mind to wander off and spiral downhill. How about you sit in timeout until you learn to behave yourselves?

***

Cole got up, already knowing what kind of a day this was going to be. 

A shitty one.

The moment he came back to his senses, feeling torn into shreds and run over by a truck, he knew. Just knew today was going to be extra tough.

Forcedly, he rolled out of bed and shoved himself under the shower. He didn’t really need it anymore, or, at least, not as often as he used to. But a routine activity, such as this one, helped keep up the fragile illusion of normality. Or maybe he was just lying to himself. Wouldn’t be the first time.

He stood under the excessively hot spray, fruitlessly trying to absorb the warmth he could barely feel. If Cole had the energy to care, he would probably be concerned with how willingly he had put himself under the very thing that could oh so easily kill him. He wasn’t wearing his protective undershirt. He could slip out of the body if he lost focus. The water would melt him away in seconds. It was akin sitting in a submarine on the ocean floor, trapped in a tin can under tons and tons of deadly force. Only an illusion of safety. One wrong move and you’re a goner.

But that was just his life now, wasn’t it?

Life is a strong word, don’t you think?

He stepped out into the steam-filled room. Careful not to disturb the head wound, he dried his hair and then everything else. The towel came flying towards the slowly growing laundry pile. He got dressed on autopilot, his movements practiced and mindless as he hid the Deepstone undershirt under layers of clothing.

With his hand, Cole wiped the fogged up mirror. He hadn’t been looking in it much lately. Nothing new he could see. Right now he just needed to make sure his bandana was tied neatly enough.

Moving the slightly damp hair out of his face, Cole made the mistake of looking his reflection in the eyes. The void stared back. Dark and lifeless. His pupils, now permanently blown wide, were like two sinking black holes with no stars left to shine. Not even the gleam of the bathroom lights reflected in them.

It was a miracle no one had bothered to look at him closely enough to notice. Cole himself sure couldn’t un-see it now that he was aware of it. The eyes that held no warmth, no emotion. The eyes that displayed nothing. Like two dead pixels on a still somewhat working screen.

The barely visible irises had taken a dark green color, one of wet moss or swampy water, the emotions currently too tame for them to emit that outworldly glow. The whites around were bloodshot, still irritated from the last tears he’d shed before his incomplete death.

What was it that they said? ‘The eyes are the mirror of one’s soul?’ Yeah, that checked out. Dead and forever stuck in the aftermath of his own incompetence.

Annoyance rose in his throat in the form of a quiet growl. Cole fought off the urge to smash the accursed mirror into bits.

He was going to do better today.

He tied his bandana nice and tight, opened a window and even made his bed. The morning breeze carried through the room, chasing away the musty smell of despondency.

He was going to do so much better.

He’d be a model brother today, a fully functional member of their little ninja family. He’d make things right.

He had to.

***

Being around the team was both a curse and a blessing.

Keeping his bleak thoughts at bay was a little easier when he wasn’t marinating in his own company like some freaky shut-in.

It was easier to pretend he was still alive when there were people to pretend for. In the cacophony of their family routine he could almost believe it himself. He could almost forget.

Almost.

The moment you truly forget is the moment you give yourself away.

It was easier to ignore the ominous whisper in his ear when there were louder voices to listen to.

So Cole tried to participate in the group activities when he could. He really did.

Today, however, it didn’t seem like such a great idea.

Because his dear brothers and sister took the Sacred Bell of something to make a hot tub.

Sure, why not. It’s not like getting half naked in front of everyone was one of the two things Cole had promised himself not to do under any circumstances. The third thing would be not talking back to the jerk voicing his thoughts, but the earth ninja had already failed in that department big time, so it was basically off the list.

“So what, you’re coming?”

Oh, right, he’d been talking to Lloyd.

The youngest brother was probably the only one who spared Cole the almost sickeningly worried glances the others shot his way when they thought he wasn’t looking. It might have had something to do with the fact that Lloyd was lucky enough not to witness his…not to witness the fall.

Regardless of the reasons, Cole was grateful that at least one of his teammates still treated him the same.

Also, the said teammate was still waiting for him to answer.

Damn it, Cole, focus.

The weather was great and his room would probably claim Cole as a new piece of furniture if he stayed in there much longer, so his excuses for missing out on the hot tub were limited.

He still wanted to be around the others so maybe he didn’t have to refuse? Maybe he could borrow one of Zane’s full body swimsuits? Like the ones divers have. That should cover up all of his injuries.

Yeah, let’s see what happens when you boil a corpse with a ghost inside.

The thought was shoved into the box before Cole’s mind could provide a colourful image.

There was a big problem with being the undead. Well, aside from the most obvious one.

Every change in his body was permanent.

The wounds would not heal, the hair would not grow back, the tears would not be replenished. And every bit of damage was irreversible.

Soon enough he would be covered in the evidence of his death he would no longer be able to hide.

Peachy.

“Hard pass. I think I’ll just,” Hide. Run away from your problems like you always do, “sit in the sun for a bit. Tan my legs.”

Probably the only part of him left unscathed.

Lloyd only shrugged.

“Suit yourself.”

Suit himself Cole did.

He went back to his room to change and get his drawing equipment and then joined the others on the sunny part of the mountain.

He probably looked ridiculous — out on a hot summer day in his double collar hoodie and bandana, with only his beach shorts underneath. Didn’t even bother with flip flops. Like a dressing simulator dropped halfway in.

Definitely not the weirdest thing he’d ever done, so he’d manage.

Cole found a nice, sun-warmed rock to sit on, flopped down and opened a fresh page of his sketchbook. From this place, he had a great view of all of his teammates as they settled into the improvised hot tub. He was sitting close enough to listen and pipe in if he wished, even though most of the conversation went as a soothing background sound while he worked.

He started with a quick group sketch as a warm-up. Minimum details, just the more or less distinctive silhouettes and hinted facial expressions. It was nice to know he still got the hang of it despite not having much practice lately. No one promised the life of a ninja would be easy, but sometimes he really missed the slow quiet moments like this when he could just indulge in his hobby and enjoy himself.

Sure, the last few weeks had actually been as slow and quiet as they get, but there wasn’t much to enjoy when you have to deal with a dead body. Especially your own.

Cole shoved that last thought into the box and sealed it shut with a generous amount of his trusty mental duct tape. He was here to have a good time. He wasn’t going to let some annoying thoughts ruin that.

The earth ninja flipped the page and got on with the individual portraits. For someone else it would probably be a challenge to capture a moment while the off-duty ninja laughed and shoved each other, splashing water everywhere. Not for Cole. He’d known his brothers and sister long enough to draw them with his eyes closed.

There was Kai, so relaxed his face was barely above the water. There were Jay and Lloyd, circling each other, about to enter a waterbending battle despite neither possessing the element even close to water. There was Zane, watching the others fondly, his titanium skin extra shiny from the sun.

And Nya.

She was looking at him.

And then she smiled. It was a small fragile thing but it held a lot.

Cole smiled back. Gave her a little wave.

He made sure he captured the moment on a blank piece of paper.

By the time Cole tore his eyes from the drawing, the guys had already teamed up for a chicken fight. Kai was easily balancing Lloyd on his shoulders, while Nya had to hold the thighs of the ever-moving ball of energy that was Jay. Zane, who had smartly chosen not to participate, started the countdown.

And 3, 2, 1.

Fight.

Cole put the sketchbook aside, got up and made his way to the hot tub. The battle was ferocious — Lloyd held one of Jay’s wrists captive, while swatting at the other, that had come way too close to jabbing him in the ribs. Kai and Nya shoved and kicked each other under the water, trying to make the other sibling lose balance. Or trying to drown them. With these two, could be both.

Having folded his arms over the edge of the tub, Cole got himself a front row view of the tussle, as he cheered for no one in particular. Well, more like for whoever looked the coolest at the moment.

In the end, it was a draw. Nya managed to drag Kai under water and Lloyd, who’d just lost his footing, fell face first, knocking down Jay in the process. Cole could only squat behind the walls of the tub to hide from the giant splash that followed. Zane, however, hadn’t been so lucky.

The sun had already been crawling towards the horizon by the time everyone was exhausted enough to head back to the monastery.

Nya had just finished towelling her hair when Cole approached her.

“Here, I want you to have this.” He held out the sketch of her he’d made earlier. The one he had purposefully drawn on a separate page and the one he’d devoted the most time to. It had to be perfect.

Nya took it carefully, as if it was something fragile, and took a few moments to admire the work. She then looked up at him.

“Thank you,” Ah, there was that smile again. Bigger this time, more at ease. He’d missed it. “You know, Cole, I’m very glad you joined us today.”

“So am I. It’s nice being out in the sun, I should do this more often.” He’d do this every day just to see his family this happy. “Hey, how about a sparring match tomorrow, just you and me?”

If Nya’s smile grew any brighter someone was going to need sunglasses.

“I’d love that.”

***

Cole didn’t know it was possible for a ghost to get tired. But man was he exhausted. His feet barely obeyed him as the master of earth dragged himself back to his room after several hours of outdoor activities.

Today had been a little too much.

Too many things to be wary of. Too many variables to keep in mind. Too many eyes that could spot a crack in his facade.

It was like speed running through all the side quests you have ignored before. Get out of your room, draw in front of everyone, talk to your friends, don’t forget to smile at them, avoid any questions about your weird attire, oh, and don’t get in the water, it might melt away your legs if you don’t focus!

Ah, relaxation at its finest.

While it might’ve looked like a nice chill day around his friends, in reality it had been a one-man-show, and now its only actor could really use a break.

He’d been pulling on the reins too hard and for too long and now his entire body felt strained and stretched to its limit.

He was so tired even that poor imitation of sleep he loathed so much sounded tempting. He just needed a little break. A short moment alone to rest and recharge. Just a bit of peace and quiet.

“Cole, may I talk to you for a moment?”

Shit.

The black ninja swallowed an exasperated groan. He was so close. Just a few seconds and he could’ve been safe in the confines of his room. But alas. That would’ve been too easy.

Cole quickly schooled his features into something nonchalant and turned around to face Zane.

“What’s up?”

“I have a serious question and I have to ask you to be honest with me.” Cole tensed up. He didn’t like where this was going. “Are you really okay?”

I’m a walking corpse, what do you think?

Of course if anyone had to notice something amiss it would be Zane.

Or maybe Cole was just shit at pretending.

Probably that.

He still tried to play dumb, eyebrows raised and a lopsided grin plastered into place.

“Where did that come from?”

Two radiant blue eyes were watching him, drilling into his very soul with the emotion Cole couldn’t decipher. Was it worry? Pity? Suspicion? He didn’t know. Didn’t want to know.

He just wanted to go and merge with his bed for a few hours. Wanted to let go of control. Wanted a chance to right his head before he did something stupid. Why wouldn’t Zane just let him leave?

Cole averted his gaze, suddenly afraid that if he looked for too long, his brother would see right through the ruse. See every inconsistency in the picture he’d so desperately tried to maintain. See how dead the earth ninja’s eyes really were.

“It is obvious that the battle against the Oni and the…prior events have left their imprint on you,” the nindroid clarified, either falling for the trick or merely playing along, “Master Wu had told us that you requested some space to recover and we all understood.” Well, some of you clearly didn’t. “I wasn’t going to bring it up, but it has been several weeks and your condition does not seem to be improving.”

The already paper-thin smile slid off his face.

Great.

And there Cole thought he’d been getting better.

Where did he mess up? What gave him away? He'd been so careful. He’d worked so hard for today to go smoothly. 

Only for something to come sting him in the ass at the very last moment, apparently.

He kept his mouth shut and Zane spoke again.

“As much as I wish to respect your privacy, I’m afraid I have to be direct about this matter.”

Something stirred inside. Thorny and caustic. 

Suddenly every word sounded like a mockery. Patronising. Belittleling. Cole’s teeth ground together in irritation. 

Zane must’ve taken his silence the wrong way.

“Please, do not close off again, Cole. I am merely concerned about your well-being,” he tried to reason, one hand raised in his teammate’s direction, “and I believe the others share my sentiment.”

I know where you could shove this sentiment.

The black ninja’s hands clenched into fists on their own accord. Tension strained his back muscles uncomfortably.

“I appreciate it.”

The line came out so flat and unconvincing that Cole had better not said anything at all.

Annoyance crawled under his skin. No, not annoyance. Anger. Blind, boiling. Why was he so angry? He felt it coiling in his gut like a venomous snake, like a smoking fire, poisoning his very soul with its toxic fumes. He was choking on it.

The nindroid’s levelled voice seemed far away.

“I think you should talk to someone. Share what’s bothering you.” You’re bothering me. “It doesn’t have to be me—”

“I can handle myself, Zane.” 

The words came out way harsher than he intended. Cole could barely control his own reactions at this point and it only irritated him further. The heat from his burning insides was suffocating.

“Apologies. I was not implying that you couldn’t,” Zane said, careful, aware of the other’s worthened mood, yet clearly not grasping the full extent of it. Otherwise he wouldn’t have continued. “But your state worries me, Cole. I cannot simply stand by while—”

“Stop.”

Just one word. Strained, quiet. Barely even a whisper. A warning, a blaring siren, a big bright ‘KEEP OUT’ sign.

“Cole, I—“

“Can you just stop, please.” His voice shook with effort from trying to contain the fire that was melting his esophagus. “Stop with this interrogation bullshit. Stop acting like you know better. Stop looking at me like I’m some brat who can’t take care of himself.”

He was raising his voice. He didn’t mean to. He didn’t mean half of what he’d said either. He was too tired for this.

Cole didn’t notice the earth shaking slightly under his feet.

His throat burned from the smoldering sparks trying to crawl up like bile. Stinging and bitter. 

“I wasn’t—”

The tips of the flame touched his tongue.

“I know what I’m doing, okay?!”

Do you really? Do you even believe that? 

Cole snapped. The fire bursted through the crumbled wall of his will.

“I fucking do!”

A thin crack ran through the mountain right beneath the monastery’s foundation. No one noticed.

Zane flinched away from him. Startled by the volume, by the harshness of his words. Cole met those blue eyes, the emotions in them now clear as day. Confusion, alarm, hurt. Zane didn’t understand what happened. Cole didn’t either. Guilt choked him harder than carbon dioxide ever could.

He didn’t mean to yell, he didn’t mean to take it out on Zane, didn’t mean to hurt him.

He hadn’t just said that, no, it wasn’t him. He couldn’t have. Someone else had opened his mouth, forcing the ireful words out. He just watched from afar. 

You let it happen.

The fire inside danced and crackled, triumphant, but hungry for more. Teased by the first bite. The dark smoke prickled Cole’s eyes and nose.

I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me, I didn’t mean it!

The words got stuck in his charred throat. Cole gritted his teeth, too afraid something else might come out of his ash-stained mouth instead.

He didn’t storm out. No. He ran away. Fled with his tail between his legs. Ashamed, disgusted, scared. Yet still sick with anger, still filled to the brim with it. Still a menace.

Cole only let out a useless breath once he was locked in his room, for once, for the others’ sake. He couldn’t let this rage do more damage than it already had. Couldn’t let the beast out.

It was an accident. A slip up. A moment of weakness.

He was just tired and on edge.

He would not let it happen again.

Try as he might, Cole couldn’t explain that outburst or the even worse one that could’ve followed. He was a ghost, he wasn’t supposed to feel strong emotions. And that all-consuming fury was like nothing he’d felt even while he was still alive. It wasn’t the righteous anger one experienced in the heat of battle, it wasn’t the halfhearted annoyance going hand in hand with a friendly banter, wasn’t even the barbed stress-induced irritation everybody felt every once in a while.

No, this was something dark. Ugly. Violent. Something that craved to bite whoever stood the closest and wanted it to hurt. Something that should never be let out.

There was a time Cole believed that any feeling was better than none, better than that everlasting numbness. But not this feeling. Not this poison, sloshing inside, leaking through the cracks of his self control.

He had to apologize to Zane. He wished he had done so right away. The guy didn’t deserve to be treated like that. He was only trying to help while Cole was just a second away from physically fighting him. Bared his teeth, ready to pounce as if someone had attacked him. He felt cornered, suffocating inside the walls he’d built around to keep the secret hidden, not realizing he’d trapped himself with it.

Why, why did Zane have to confront him like that? Cole had almost escaped. Just a few more steps and he would've been locked away along with that anger. Just a couple of hours alone and he would’ve been fine. Was a moment of peace too much to ask? They could’ve avoided it if the other had let him leave. If he hadn’t tried to pry away the patches keeping the dam intact. It wasn’t helping. Cole just hated—

No. No, he didn’t. He could never hate Zane, hate any of them, anything they do. He couldn’t. That word didn’t belong here. Cole wished he could erase it from his mind, scrub it off his tongue even though it was never spoken. He did not hate his family.

He wasn’t even angry at them, was he?

No, he was angry at himself. So very angry. For worrying everyone, for failing to hide his condition, for dying in the first place, for lashing out. For every stupid mistake that had brought him there.

The only thing he hated was his own acrimonious voice, rearing its ugly head in his lowest moments, pouring venom in his ears, mocking him, stabbing where it hurt the most.

No one hated Cole more than he did himself.

Nature or nurture, Cole had always held high expectations for himself. Make your dad proud, fight off the bullies, climb the highest mountain, be the strongest ninja, lead the team, take responsibility. There was always a new standard to reach, a new height to conquer and, over time, he’d gotten pretty damn good at berating himself for failing to do so. In a sense, Cole was his own strictest judge. He knew his shortcomings, his weak points, noted every misstep and wrongdoing. That was why he really didn’t need other people piping in with their own two cents.

He was pacing now, the fire inside ignited anew.

First, Master Wu, then Jay, now Zane? Who else was in line to test his wavering patience? Was it funny for them? Were they betting on who’d be the one to break him? Everyone just had to nudge him about one thing or another, question his actions, doubt his decisions. Judge him. As if they had any idea what was going on.

Maybe they would, if you’ve bothered to tell them.

The blaze grew bigger, eating away every last bit of him not yet burned to ashes.

Cole had his reasons. He had a plan, simple but reliable. He could handle it. He got it covered, just like he always had. Why couldn’t they just… trust him on that?

Trust you? When you lie to their faces?

Hot smoke rose up his throat, scalding the vocal cords, leaving his voice hoarse and grating.

“I’m doing it for them!”

Are you?

Fingernails stabbed his palms, leaving the marks that would never go off.

“This is for their own good.”

Hypocrite.

He tasted the flames again.

“Shut up! I don’t hear you having better ideas!”

Probably because I’m not real.

Cole stopped dead (ha!) in his tracks.

That’s…right. 

A cold shiver ran down his spine, a stark contrast to the scorching anger he felt just a moment ago. Now it was ice spreading across his body, seeping into his bones.

There wasn’t anyone here except for him. Who was Cole even trying to argue with right now?

The cold extinguished the last spark of fire, frost making a home inside, covering every burnt surface, marring it further.

That’s okay.

It wasn’t.

Ice crust grew around his throat, strangling him.

You’re just going insane.

He was, wasn't he?

“Fuck.”

Chapter Text

Sleep was a tricky thing. If that mockery of slumber could even be called that.

Cole thought he had it all figured out. That he knew what to expect. That he’d made his peace with it. But life really liked to prove him wrong.

During some exceptionally good, albeit rare nights, Cole would manage to catch a glimpse of comfort. Slip into some secluded corner in the back of his mind where the visions couldn’t reach him and the thoughts were quiet for once. When even his cruel, restless brain was too tired to keep tormenting him. When he could simply forget.

It wasn’t like actual sleep, just some illusive in-between space, a middle ground amid the cacophony of images and thoughts, a resting point after one nightmare and right before the other.

Cole wished he could stay there forever.

But alas. 

Trying to hold on to that blissful nothingness was as easy as catching smoke with bare hands. It was like zoning out with his eyes closed. The moment he became aware of it — it was gone. Ripped away from him in an instant. And he was thrown right back into the cart of that spiraling rollercoaster of contemplation he had barely escaped.

While the moment lasted, he would tiptoe the rim of a cliff, stuck on the very edge of consciousness. Just one step away from the salvatory void. Just one step too far. He couldn’t cross over. He couldn’t truly sleep.

All he could do was to vainly chase that fleeting serenity once it’d noticed his gaze and took off into the unknown. The promise of undisturbed rest slipping through his fingers after having just barely tickled his palms. Drifting away as if it was never even there in the first place. Like a mirage.

Somehow it felt even worse, knowing that peace was still possible for someone like him. So close yet so painfully out of reach. The things he had forced himself to endure and had only gotten used to, turned all the more bitter after the taste of something so sweet. Unbearable all over again.

He’d find himself floating just to hit the ground harder.

How familiar.

***

The late hours somehow managed to bring out the brooding, dismal part of him that Cole hadn’t been aware of before the initial ghost ordeal and the one he desperately hoped wouldn’t return afterwards. It had. Now worse than ever. He hated thinking the way he did in the dead of the night, hated that bleakness, those deep, morbid concepts that his mind started to generate for no good reason. So alien to his usual self, so wrong. Almost as if he was becoming someone else. Something else.

But like a lot of things currently happening to him — he couldn’t do much about it.

Tonight’s not-sleep had left Cole disoriented with its false serenity and awarded the day with a label of “one of those days”. The one he had to drag himself through in weak hope that the next one would be more bearable.

The prior events also did little to brighten up the mood — he owed Zane big time for the stunt he’d pulled so Cole now firmly planned on making up for it. Although he dreaded the upcoming conversation.

In the morning Cole took some time to pace around his room and practise the overdue apology. Despite his best efforts and sincere repentance, the right words just refused to come to him. Nothing felt good enough, plausible enough, “I’m so sorry I hurt you, please forgive me without asking any more questions” enough.

Eventually, he managed to string a couple of words together into something passable and got on his way to find his icy brother before he could forget them.

As he walked through the halls, Cole did his best to ignore the provocative remarks from his mean inner voice. He might’ve been going crazy but arguing with himself and losing just felt extra degrading. And somehow he always lost.

He found the nindroid in the kitchen. Very conveniently alone.

Lights, camera, action.

“Zane,” he finally croaked out after having stood in the doorway for an embarrassing amount of time, “I need to talk to you.”

The white ninja turned to him, his face carefully blank. Cole cleared his throat.

“I’m really sorry for the other day. I just —” had to get away from everyone before I could reveal something I can’t let you know, “ — wasn’t in the best place back then. I was tired and I didn’t watch my tone, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it, really. I hope you can forgive me for lashing out.”

The rehearsed lines, although not untrue, sounded hollow to his ears. Fake, like a picture that was only hung to cover up a crack in the wall.

“That is quite alright,” Zane said, courteous, as always, warmth touching the sky blue eyes, “I believe I am also at fault here. You were clearly stressed, I shouldn’t have been so insistent. I am sorry, too.”

The other’s words felt like a slap across the face. Cole didn’t deserve an apology. It left a foul taste in his mouth, like a sickeningly sweet pill forced down his throat. He swallowed. Because that’s what you do with medicine. That’s how you stop being sick. Cole never wanted to be sick again.

“Glad we settled it then. Sorry again.”

And, scene.

He gave Zane a small smile and turned to leave.

“Cole.”

He froze.

No.

No, no, no.

Come on, Zane, please, just let me leave.

Please.

“I was hoping that now you would be feeling better,” the nindroid carried on, unaware of Cole’s internal pleas, “enough for our conversation from yesterday to continue without…raised voices.”

The snake in his gut awoke.

Stick to the script, Tin Can.

Cole felt nauseous. Heat and coldness clashed again somewhere behind his solar plexus. Anger and dread started their dance, swirling inside, trying to choke each other out. Fighting for a chance to take over, to devour him and everything around.

He couldn’t let what’d happened yesterday repeat itself. He had to keep it together. Had to control himself. But Zane was making it way harder than it had to be. Right now, in his eyes, the nindroid wasn’t a concerned friend, a kind-hearted brother looking out for him. No, he was a threat. A threat to Cole’s secret, to his plan, to that brittle facade of normality he was so desperately trying to keep up. For them. All he wanted was to spare them all from the egregious truth. Keep them safe like he always had. Be responsible.

Why wouldn’t Zane just let him do his job?

“Cole?”

His gut churned. Fire and ice twisted into a knot, trying to extinguish one another, the heavy steam rising up to mess up his already scrambled thoughts. He had to say something.

Watch and learn.

Cole felt his own expression shift into something anguished, the eyebrows angled up and pinched together as if in pain. His arms wrapped themselves around his midsection in a protective gesture. The victim no one attacked.

His voice came out deliberately weak, almost pleading.

“Do we have to?”

Silence.

Cole risked a lightning fast glance in the other’s direction. There it was. An emotion he never wished to see on Zane’s face, yet the one he desperately needed right now.

Guilt.

For a robot, he has one hell of a bleeding heart.

Playing the pity card. How low. Cole never thought he’d end up where he was right now. Yet, this seemed to be his only means of escape. The only way Zane would lay off and give him an out was if he felt guilty for pushing. If he believed he was doing more harm than good. If Cole made him believe that.

“I…Cole, I just want to help,” the nindroid tried, but there was the unmistakable defeat in his voice. Cole grabbed onto it like a drowning man. Drowning in his own mistakes and lies.

Time for the last nail in the coffin of his conscience.

“But you’re not.”

Quiet words rang like a gunshot fired at the unarmed.

He didn’t dare look at Zane. He knew he would never be able to forget his face if he did. 

The silence, sticky and suffocating, drilled holes into his temples. The storm inside stilled in morbid anticipation.

“Forgive me.”

That was all Zane said. Cole didn’t even hear him walk away.

The teeth of his own bear trap locked around him with a deafening click.

A mistake.

This was a mistake.

Awful. Irredeemable.

This was supposed to be an apology. What the hell did he just do…

The inner voice cackled in delight. Sick and twisted. It had won, after all.

What a performance! You think dad would be proud?

If Cole was still alive, he would’ve been hyperventilating now. Suffocating in dread. Maybe even throwing up.

What was wrong with him?

What was he doing?

Who was this deceitful, embittered coward, who lied and lashed out and thought that guilt-tripping his friend was the answer?

Was it really the only way?

Was protecting his secret even worth it?

No.

No, no, it never had been.

He wasn’t helping anyone with this. He wasn’t doing the right thing. No, quite the opposite. He had single handedly caused more damage than the painful truth ever could, he saw it now.

Only it was too late.

He couldn’t turn back now. Couldn’t drop it half way through. Or else he would have to bear with the fact that he had just hurt his brother for nothing. 

Pain without a reason. A lie without a purpose. Cruelty for the sake of it.

It was too much.

The weight of it pressed down on his ribs like a ton of bricks.

Cole squeezed his eyes shut, as if that could erase the last few minutes. But the words had already slithered out, venomous and irreversible. Zane’s voice—so quiet, so resigned—echoed in his skull like a death knell.

“Forgive me.”

As if Zane had been the one who needed forgiveness.

A choked noise escaped him, something between a laugh and a sob. Pathetic. He was so, so pathetic.

The worst part? Zane would forgive him. That was the kind of person he was. He would carry this hurt in silence, tuck it away like another wound he didn’t deserve, and Cole would have to live with the knowledge that he had put it there.

And for what?

His hands shook. His throat burned. The trap’s jaws dug deeper, piercing flesh, snapping bone.

He should run after him. He should fix this.

But he didn’t move.

Coward.

Always a coward.

The voice purred, triumphant.

Too late~

***

The soft morning breeze ruffled his hair, making a loose dreadlock dangle in front of his eyes, but Cole paid it no mind. He barely saw it with his thoughts as distant as the First Realm.

He was sitting on the roof of the monastery again, hugging his knees, hoping to clear his head.

Running away from conflicting emotions. How very typical of you.

“I’m not running away!” Cole argued into thin air. He didn’t know why he even bothered. The voice was merely in his head and it would always win regardless of what he said. “I just…I just need a moment to think.”

The voice chuckled, dark and mocking. 

Think? Is that what you call this? Sitting here like a kicked puppy instead of facing what you’ve done?

Cole gritted his teeth. The wind picked up, sharp against his skin, but he barely felt it. His chest was too tight, thoughts too loud.

He should be down there. He should be finding Zane, swallowing his pride, fixing this. But every time he imagined it—Zane’s sad, disappointed eyes, the quiet hurt in his voice—his stomach twisted into knots.

You’re pathetic, the voice sneered. He’s probably already forgiven you. That’s the worst part, isn’t it? He’ll just take it, like he always does. And you? You’ll keep doing this: hurting him, hurting all of them, regretting it, then doing it all over again.

Cole’s nails dug into his arms. “Shut up.”

Make me.

This was going nowhere. How could Cole face the others when he couldn’t even deal with a fraction of his own mind? Crazy. He was going crazy. This secret was driving him insane.

He had to tell someone.

But the whole point of it all was for the others to not know. Spending weeks in fear of someone finding out just to spill the beans anyway? That didn’t make any sense.

But what if it was someone outside the ninja team? Someone who would keep his secret safe. Someone he was close with and trusted wholeheartedly.

Dad.

Cole hadn’t seen him in a while. The thought made him feel a pang of guilt. So much free time, yet not a moment to spare for his own father. Some son he was.

Maybe…maybe Cole could tell him. Finally get it off his chest.

Yeah, right. Because someone who had lost his wife to a slowly progressing disease and then had to deal with the fact that his only child is a ghost, would definitely handle the news well. You must hold one hell of a grudge against the old man if you want to put him through that shit again.

“It’s not…it’s not like that.”

How would that even play out? “Hey dad, how’s it going? Remember that time I was a ghost and almost got erased from existence but then turned human again? Guess what? I’m a walking corpse now! Pretty cool, huh? But don’t tell the others, they haven’t noticed anything and I don’t want to worry them. Oh, but not you, you’d be fine.”

“…”

So visiting his dad was a no go. It had been bad enough the first time.

The thought alone made his ribs ache like they were caving in.

His dad had aged ten years in the span of months while Cole had been a ghost. The hollows under his eyes, the way his hands shook when he thought no one was looking — that was the price of knowing. And now? Now Cole was something worse. Something that didn’t even have a name.

At least as a ghost you were just cursed, the voice mused. Now? You’re a fucking problem.

Cole’s jaw clenched. He could picture it too clearly: his dad’s face draining of color, the forced smile, the way he’d grip his cane like he needed to steady himself. “Oh. That’s…I understand, son.”

That’d be a lie.

Just like all the other lies piling up around him.

A bitter laugh crawled up his throat. 

”Pretty cool, huh?” Yeah. Real cool.

So what’s the plan, genius? the voice pressed. Keep rotting in silence until someone notices? Until you can no longer keep your mouth shut? Or until you have pushed away everyone dear to you? Oh, I know, until you just snap and lose your mind completely?

Cole didn’t know how to answer that.

A shadow moved at the edge of his vision. He flinched — had Zane come looking for him?

But no. It was just a bird, wings slicing through the dawn light before vanishing into the sky.

Alone again.

Just like he deserved.

Maybe it would be best if he just stayed away from the others today. Cole clearly wasn’t in the right place at the moment. Who knows what other “brilliant” ideas would come to his head, what other mistakes he’d make, what other things he’d come to regret.

Yes. He should just stay put.

Falling back into old habits already? And here I thought we were getting better.

Cole wanted to bang his head against something hard until he could no longer hear the asshole that was throwing his own doubts back at him.

Careful who you call an asshole, asshole.

“I’m not…I’m not isolating myself again,” Cole sighed tiredly, ignoring the last comment, “It’s only for today. I need to calm down.”

Aren’t you forgetting something?

He paused for a moment, frowning a little. There really was something he was forgetting, wasn’t there? He had plans for today, something important, but what was it? 

Someone felt particularly energetic yesterday and promised Nya a sparring match. Or would you rather cancel and mope around in your room all day instead?

The memory hit him like a punch to the gut.

Right.

Nya had been grinning when he’d challenged her, already cracking her knuckles. “You’re on, Cole. Don’t cry when I wipe the floor with you.”

And now? Now he was hiding on the roof like some moody kid, debating whether to bail on her completely.

Great. Another person to disappoint.

The voice hummed, smug. 

So? What’s it gonna be? Hide like a coward, or suck it up and face her?

Cole growled quietly, dragging a hand down his face. He could cancel. Make up some excuse. But Nya wasn’t stupid—she’d see right through it. And then she’d either call him out or, worse, worry about him.

Neither option was appealing.

With a groan, he pushed himself up, dusting off his pants.

Well, well. Look who’s finally making a decision.

“Shut it,” he muttered, but there was no real bite to it.

He hesitated at the roof’s edge, staring down at the training grounds below. Nya was probably already on her way there.

His stomach churned.

But he’d made a promise.

And he was done breaking those.

***

Cole was walking down the hall when he was ripped out of his thoughts by Pixal’s levelled voice from behind his back.

“Cole, do you have a moment?”

What’s up with the robots failing to mind their own business today?

He turned around, a friendly smile already fixed on his face.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“It has come to my knowledge that you had not received the necessary medical check up after the incident.”

And straight to the point we go, what did I expect?

But also, damn, took them long enough. If you weren’t already dead, the consequences of that fall would have finished you off ten times by now. Are you sure they actually give a shit about us?

Shut up. I did that to myself.

If it helps you sleep at night. Oh, wait—

Cole grinned awkwardly.

“It’s been weeks, Pix, I really don’t think I need it anymore.”

“Excuse my bluntness, but you are in no way a medical professional. You wouldn’t be able to accurately evaluate your condition.” Okay, fair. ”Besides, an untreated injury would explain your recently acquired odd behaviour. Pain tends to make people more sensitive to external stimuli and prone to emotional outbursts. Frankly speaking — cranky.”

So the Icicle here ratted us out.

“Thanks,” Cole muttered flatly before shaking it off and giving Pixal an award winning smile, “But, really, I’m fine. Nothing hurts, honest.”

Corpses don’t hurt.

“What about your sleeping cycle?” Pixal continued, undeterred, ”Sleep deprivation is a common cause of mood shifts and aloof behaviour. Would you consider yourself well rested?”

Resting in peace, I would say.

“I…I rest plenty, thank you.”

“May I point out that your eating habits have changed drastically over a short period of time. It could be a symptom of—”

Well someone sure came prepared—

“Pixal. I’m okay. You don’t have to mother-hen me.”

In his current condition Cole couldn’t get a headache, but trying to out-argue both the nindroid and himself simultaneously felt like it could definitely earn him one.

Two luminous emerald-green eyes bore into his, not betraying a single thought.

“Why do I find it hard to believe?”

Probably because it’s a big load of cr—

“Listen,” Cole started with the softest, most convincing tone he could muster, raising his hands in a placatory gesture, “we’re all still a little on edge after the Oni mess. But, while I appreciate your concern, you’re trying to find a problem where there is none. I know what I’m doing, you don’t have to worry about me.”

Pixal rewarded him with a particularly long look. Cole could’ve sworn she had scanned his entire body and soul several times.

If she did — we’re screwed, you know that, right?

Shush.

“Alright. I will drop this topic for the time being but you have to promise me something.”

Ugh, of course.

“Of course.”

“Promise you would seek help when you can no longer gaslight yourself concerning your condition.”

The sheer directness of her request took him aback.

Ha! She thinks we gaslight ourselves, how sweet. Oh, but we know perfectly well what we are, don’t we? Dead inside and outside.

Hello, loophole.

“I promise.”

“Very well.”

Pixal turned on her heels and headed towards the garage, leaving Cole alone in the hallway.

The quiet didn’t last though.

Who do you think will be the first to say “I told you so” when the truth comes out?

“…”

Spoiler — it’s yours truly.

Cole sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

”Why do you hate me?”

You don’t want me to answer that.

***

Cole had almost forgotten how fun it was to train together.

He and Nya had agreed on a close combat match, hand-to-hand, no powers. It was perfect.

The training yard echoed with the sound of their sparring - the slap of bare feet on stone, the sharp exhales of effort. Nya was faster, weaving between his strikes like water, but Cole had raw power behind each controlled movement. They'd traded blows until Nya started to run out of steam, her breaths coming in ragged pants, although she clearly wasn’t willing to yield first.

Cole laughed heartily, high on the thrill of a good fight.

“Is that all you’ve got? Come on. I didn’t even break a sweat!”

Oh, so when I joke about it, I’m an asshole?

“Oh, shut up,” Nya bit back with a smile, “You didn’t have to wrestle Kai underwater for an hour straight. I’m still sore.”

Cole took half a step back and lowered his defense.

“Wanna take a break?”

“Sure.”

Nya tossed him a water bottle and took a few big gulps out of her own before they settled on the nearest bench.

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the courtyard as they caught their breath. Well, Nya tried to catch hers while Cole pretended to.

Cole rolled his shoulders, even if just for show, and could almost imagine his tired muscles burning after such a good workout — a welcome change from the constant, gnawing tension that had plagued him lately. For these brief moments, he could pretend everything was normal.

“Are you alright?”

OH, FOR THE LOVE OF—!

Cole chuckled humorlessly.

“I wish people would stop asking me that.”

Nya tilted her head slightly.

“How come?”

I’m afraid one day I’ll just answer truthfully.

“Makes me feel like a burden.”

It wasn’t a lie. These past weeks he’d been nothing but a nuance. The others constantly fussing over him only served to emphasise that.

Nya’s expression softened, but there was steel underneath it.

“Cole, we almost lost you back then. When you fell, I– we thought you were…” Gone. She didn’t say. The memory too fresh, too raw, too painful. “We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I know.” he sighed, rubbing his sternum as if it ached. “And I know I shouldn’t feel that way, but…”

He didn’t quite know where he was even going with that. But Nya picked it up for him.

“Knowing doesn't make it go away.”

“It really doesn’t.”

The silence between them was heavy but not suffocating. For the first time in weeks, Cole felt seen instead of scrutinized.

Nya bumped her shoulder against his.

“You’re allowed to have bad days, you know?” She turned to him, eyes warm and earnest, “You’re allowed to feel shitty and make mistakes and take your time to just sit alone and collect your thoughts. But please, don’t lock yourself away completely. Leave a gap in the door for when you need anyone to talk to. I, no, all of us, we just want to be there for you. And if it was any of us struggling, I know you would too.”

If Cole was still alive, his throat would tighten.

She meant it. Every word.

“You’re right, you’re right…” 

Because of course she was. 

Cole sighed, the gesture as artificial as it was useless. He knew that he was about to take a step into the abyss, but he also knew perfectly well that he would not be able to balance on its edge for eternity. If he had not jumped today, he would have fallen tomorrow.

“When that ladder snapped and I fell,” he muttered, pushing every sandpaper-covered word out of his throat,  “A part of me died back then. Something just… isn’t here anymore.”

An experience I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Cole bit his tongue before he could say that out loud. Nya, of all people, didn't need to hear it.

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t pity him. Just waited, steady as bedrock.

“And I know you guys mean well, so please, don’t take it the wrong way, but…the only one who can do anything about it is me. And I will. I just…I just need a bit of time to…”

He trailed off, not sure how to put it into words.

“Get used to yourself?” Nya offered.

“Yes.”

Nya sounded like she spoke from experience. Cole glanced at her, but her eyes were glued to the ground, jaw set.

“Anything you need to get off your chest?” he asked quietly.

“No, I’m good now.” She waved him off, but the shadows in her eyes lingered. “It was a long time ago, I’ve made my peace with it. Plus, much crazier things have happened since then.”

Cole snorted.

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“What matters is that we’re all here now.” She nudged him again, lighter this time, “Alive and well.”

You’d think so, wouldn’t you?

“…Yeah.” Cole forced a smile. “That’s what matters.”

Chapter Text

Idiot.

Stupid, useless, pathetic idiot.

Absolute screw up.

Ruined everything.

A whole month of pretences, of lies, of pushing through — all gone in an instance. And no one to blame but himself.

They know.

They know, they know, they know, they know—

Cole tried to think of something- anything else - please, anything but this - but the images kept flashing right before his tightly shut eyes.

His friends, his family, staring at him in utter shock. Their horrified faces. Nya’s choked gasp and tear-filled eyes. Kai's fists clenched, not in anger but in grief—the kind that burns slower and deeper. Lloyd backing away from him as if Cole was a threat. Zane's voice, usually so measured, cracking like ice under too much weight: "How long?" The silent accusations worse than the spoken ones.  

The hurt, the betrayal, the fear.  

The silence afterward, thick and choking, worse than any tomb.

You did this. 

The voice in his head had never been this loud. This resolute. This unbearable.

I did what I had to do! There was no other way!

Of course. Keep telling yourself that. There's just never “any other way” with you, is there? Poor little Cole, at the hands of a cruel bitch of fate. He only did what he thought was right. He was trying to help. He didn’t have a choice…

BULLSHIT.

You didn’t have a choice? Yeah, right! Except for the one you’ve been making every single fucking day.

Every disingenuous conversation. Every missed meal. Every second you’ve spent alone in your room. Every goddamned lie and half-truth you’ve spewed for the so-called greater good.

It all has led you up to where you are now.

But I—

You’ve made your choice. And you’ve kept making it over and over and over again. And now you’d have to live with it.

If you can call it a life.

Cole grabbed the sides of his head, trying to cover his ears but there was no escaping the voice inside his mind.

But you know what the worst part is?

Please, stop.

Now they’d have to live with it, too.

[20 hours earlier]

It was a slow evening. The good kind of slow. The one that lets you relax at the end of the day and not feel like time is slipping right through your fingers.

That evening, Cole and Kai were on dish-washing duty.

The sink water steamed as Kai scrubbed at a stubborn stain on Jay’s favorite cereal bowl—the one with the chipped edge that somehow survived every battle but couldn’t withstand Lloyd’s dish-stacking experiments. Cole’s hands moved on autopilot, the rhythm of drying and stacking almost meditative. For a moment, it was easy to pretend he was still the same person who’d stood here a year ago, back when his skin was warm and his lungs still needed air.

Kai washed the plates and cups, Cole wiped them dry and put them away in the cabinet. Like a tiny conveyor. The perfect harmony of monotone work, shared in comfortable silence.

“Hey man, how come you don’t eat with us anymore?”

Up until Kai spoke.

“What, you miss me stealing from your plate?” Cole smirked, not looking up from the mug that had just ended up in his hands.

The thing squeaked a little too loudly under the towel. Kai’s reflection in its ceramic surface was blurry, but the frown was unmistakable. Cole braced for the follow-up question—the one that would poke holes in his story like sunlight through a rotting roof.

"Okay, be real with me.” Kai pressed, uncharacteristically serious. “You’ve skipped, like, every family meal this month. What’s the deal? Secret underground buffet? A sudden hatred of Zane’s tofu surprise?"

Cole laughed to mask the panic. He knew it’d come to this, he really did. Him not eating was very on the nose no matter how you look at it. People were bound to start asking questions sooner or later.

Luckily, he had more than enough time to prepare.

“Master Wu’s got me on a new pre-dawn training schedule. I eat early, pass out by 8 PM. You’d know that if you ever woke up before noon, Fireball.”

The pre-made excuse sounded way more plausible than anything he would’ve come up with on the spot. But it felt just as shitty. Because it was still a lie.

And a poor one, too. What if he actually asks Master Wu?

Kai? Asking Sensei about my training regime? Please.

Okay, but what if he asks literally anyone who gets up early enough to see you not train?

Well, Jay already saw me leave at night, and the others shouldn’t know more than that. It’s fine.

If you say so. I’ll be right here to watch it bite you in the ass when the time comes.

Kai sighed.

“Buddy, what’s going on?”

“What is going on?” Cole parroted dumbly, which made the red ninja roll his eyes.

“Cole, we’ve known each other long enough. I’ve known you long enough. All this ‘early training’, missed dinners, keeping to yourself — I’ve seen you do it before — you’re going through something and you’re trying to distract yourself with labour or whatever it is that you do on your own. I bet you are ten minutes away from adopting some forest creature just so you could focus on it instead of…Instead of the Oni thing.”

Kai’s voice dropped, low enough that the others wouldn’t hear from the living room. Cole’s fingers twitched.

Since when is Mr Hothead so insightful?

The earth ninja raised an eyebrow, hoping he had enough acting talent to pull this off.

“What does this have to do with anything?” he asked with as much nonchalance as he could muster.

That seemed to have caught Kai off guard.

“Well, um, you know, when we were on the– the thing that…and then you…and it all was like…you know?

It’s so funny when he fumbles.

No, it’s not, I’m making him feel like a jerk for asking.

Well, good. Maybe he’ll actually stop asking.

The dishwater gurgled down the drain as Kai shut off the faucet. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, studying the back ninja with an unreadable expression.

“Kai, I’m fine.” Cole took a step towards his brother, hand squeezing the other’s shoulder reassuringly. “I just don’t like sitting around doing nothing all day. It’s nice to catch a break from fighting for once, but I’m getting bored. That’s all there is to it.”

Liar.

Kai’s shoulders slumped. He turned back to the sink, scrubbing at a spotless plate like it held the answers.

"Just… promise me you’re not gonna pull a Zane and vanish into the woods for six months, okay?"

The words hit harder than they should’ve. Cole forced a grin. 

"What, and miss the next time Nya kicks your ass in a chicken fight? Never."

Kai didn't laugh. He just...looked at him. That searching stare that always saw too much. Cole focused on folding the towel with military precision, the way Zane taught them. Three precise folds. Neat corners. Anything to avoid those knowing brown eyes.

The silence between them wasn’t comfortable anymore.

Just as the red ninja opened his mouth again — probably to call Cole out on his blatant lies and flimsy excuses — Jay's voice echoed from the hallway: 

"Kai! Your turn to pick the movie and Lloyd's threatening to put on another documentary about—whoa." he skidded to a stop in the doorway. "Are we having A Moment? Should I—" 

Jay trailed off, thumb pointing over his shoulder.

"We're done here," Kai deadpanned, not breaking eye contact with Cole. 

But the way his jaw clenched said otherwise. As Kai stalked out, Jay hovered awkwardly, glancing between them. 

"You good, man?" 

Cole stared at the perfectly folded towel in his hands. The fabric was still damp. 

"Peachy."

***

The movie marathon had dragged on late into the night. So late that it was starting to get early, the first birds already chirping outside.

Nya and Lloyd had left after the third film to catch some proper sleep so it was just the four of them now. The original squad. The skies behind the window were starting to get brighter and Cole, too, had decided to head off to bed before anyone could notice that he hadn’t touched any of the snacks or yawned a single time. Or blinked. Although, it wasn’t like anyone was paying any attention to him. Cole was pretty sure Kai had been snoozing with his eyes open and Zane seemed too focused on the movie to watch him.

But better be safe than sorry.

He carefully shifted Jay, who had been snoring into his ear for the last half an hour, and slipped off the couch. Cole brushed some of the popcorn that Lloyd had spilled on him earlier off his clothes, gave Zane a curt nod and left.

The hallway outside the living room was too bright, the dawn light seeping under doors and through windows like an uninvited guest. Cole's shadow stretched long and thin ahead of him—too sharp at the edges, too dark against the wooden floors. He paused outside his bedroom door, listening to the muffled sounds of the movie still playing behind him. A car chase. Kai's sleep-slurred commentary. The tinny explosion sounds that meant Jay would wake up complaining about the volume tomorrow. Normal things. Alive things.

His fingers hovered over the doorknob. Behind him, the floorboard creaked—just the old monastery settling, probably. Definitely not Kai following to continue their awkward conversation from before. Definitely not.

Cole walked into his room. 

It was just as dull and lonesome as before. Curtains drawn, the bed unmade, the atmosphere stiff and oppressing. His personal dungeon.

The door clicked shut behind him with finality. Cole's eyes traced the familiar cracks in the ceiling—the one near the light fixture that looked like a lightning bolt, the spiderweb of hairline fractures in the far corner. He'd counted them a hundred times by now. They never changed. Just like him.  

He toed off his shoes, watching dust puff up where they landed. The particles hung in the stale air, suspended. Waiting. Like everything else in this room. Like him.  

On the nightstand, Nya's untouched cookies sat fossilized in their wrapping. He'd told her he'd save them for later. Later never came.

An hour had passed. Cole lay in bed, frustrated.

Try as he might, the sleep just wouldn’t come to him. And he didn’t even mean actual sleep — that playing pretend he’d grown used to doing at nights didn’t seem to work out either. Tossing and turning, he couldn’t even relax enough to let go of control and allow his body to rest. His heart felt too heavy, mind too cramped, his interaction with Kai playing in his head over and over again like a video stuck in a loop. As if, if he re-lived it a thousand more times, he would see some new outcome. As if by not sleeping he could change anything about it. As if thinking about it wasn’t making him feel shittier with every passing minute.

First, it was Master Wu, then Jay, then Zane and Pixal, now Kai. Keep pushing everyone away and soon there won’t be anyone left to keep the secret for.

Cole wished he could just turn off his own mind. Preferably forever.

You know perfectly well that the only way to get rid of me is if you kill yourself.

I’m starting to think that even that wouldn’t work.

Not with that attitude.

Cole rolled his eyes. These inner dialogues were getting weirder by the day.

Maybe you’re just going crazier.

Nope. Not thinking about that. Things like that shall go straight to the box.

Cole got up before his cruel mind could drop another one of its brilliant one-liners.

***

The hallway outside Cole’s room was too quiet. No creaking floorboards, no hum of the monastery’s ancient pipes—just the muffled sound of Lloyd’s own heartbeat as he hovered outside Cole’s door.  

He hesitated, knuckles hovering an inch away from the wood.  

This is stupid. Go back to bed.

But the nightmare still clung to him—smoke and screaming and Cole’s lifeless body crumbling into dust in his arms. He was too late. Again.

He knocked.  

"Cole…? You up?"  

Silence. Then—  

"Sleeping!"  

Lloyd’s eyebrows furrowed. He pressed his ear to the door. No rustling sheets. No sleepy grumbles. Just… nothing.  

The doorknob turned under his hand before he could second-guess himself.  

Cole stood frozen in the center of the room, fully dressed, the lamp casting long shadows across his face. It looked…a little eerie.

***

A knock at the door. Too soft to be Kai. Too hesitant to be Zane.

Lloyd’s voice came muffled from the other side.

"Cole…? You up?" 

For a second, Cole froze.

"Sleeping!" he replied, too fast, too loud. Too panicked.

A pause. The doorknob turned anyway. 

Lloyd stood there in rumpled pajamas, squinting against the light. 

"You're... dressed. And standing. And your lights are on." 

Three strikes. Cole scrambled for an excuse—meditation? Night training?—but Lloyd’s hand had already come up to cover his mouth as he yawned tiredly.

Somehow, he looked even younger like that.

Cole smiled fondly at him. 

"Just can't sleep. You know how it is." 

Lloyd didn't know. None of them did. Not really. But he nodded anyway, rubbing his arms like the hallway was cold. 

"Yeah. Me neither..." 

Cole watched the other’s Adam apple move as he swallowed, the steady pulse in his neck. Alive alive alive.

“I had a nightmare.”

The moment Lloyd had said that, Cole’s shoulders relaxed—just a fraction. This he could handle. Nightmares were normal. Nightmares didn’t require a pulse.  

“Damn, that’s rough. Wanna crash here?”  

Lloyd blinked, swaying slightly on his feet. The drowsiness clear as day.

“You… don’t mind?”  

Cole ruffled his hair, the gesture practiced, familiar, right. 

“Pfft. You used to sneak into our rooms all the time when you were still an ankle-biter.” 

Back when I was alive. Back when everything was okay.

Lloyd half-heartedly pushed his hand away and shuffled toward the bed, too sleep-drunk to notice anything amiss.

The mattress barely dipped under the green ninja’s weight—a stark contrast to how Cole used to sink into it after long missions, back when his muscles knew what being tired meant. Dawn light sliced through the curtains, painting stripes across Lloyd's face that made him look smaller, fragile even. The kind of boy who should still be sneaking in after bad dreams about snakes made of gummies. Not the Green Ninja who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Not the one who'd seen way too much for his age.

Lloyd lay stiffly on his side of the bed, staring up at the ceiling, fingers intertwined loosely on his stomach.

”This is stupid. I feel like a child.”

”Buddy, you are a child.” Cole chuckled at the offended face Lloyd made. “I mean, sure, you’re the Green Ninja and everything, but you’re still our baby brother. And baby brothers sometimes need to have a sleepover and snooze in their big brother’s bed.”

Lloyd's nose wrinkled as he burrowed his face deeper into the pillow.

“Hey, come on, don’t be like that.” The earth ninja smiled as he squatted beside the bed. “I know how it gets. When the fight is over, but it feels like you’re still there, on the battlefield. Like something is still out there to get you even though the big bad is long defeated. Like you can’t let your guards down even in your sleep. It sucks. But that’s what the team’s for — to help you through whatever is bugging you, no matter how big or small.”

That’s rich coming from you. Do you believe a single word of it?

Can it, won’t you. I’m kinda in the middle of something.

In the middle of a hypocritical rant, that is.

Cole shoved the annoying inner voice aside and looked at his brother again, ready to say something else, but Lloyd was already half-asleep, eyelids fluttering shut, fingers curled loosely in the blanket. Cole hovered awkwardly before perching on the edge of the mattress—too stiff, too careful.  

“You’re not gonna sleep?” the other suddenly asked, words slurred with fatigue.

Cole’s laugh sounded hollow even to his own ears. 

“Nah. Gotta… keep watch. Nightmare patrol.”  

Lloyd hummed, eyes closed. “M’kay… just… don’t disappear, ‘kay?”  

The words lodged in Cole’s ribs like a knife.  

“...Wouldn’t dream of it.”  

Outside, more birds began to sing, loud and cheerful, greeting the new day. Cole counted each breath Lloyd took—in, out, alive—and tried to remember how it felt to need air.

Chapter Text

What a pitiful sight.

Cole sat in the corner — the furthest one from the door — huddled in the pile of laundry he never got around doing. Hugging his knees, he wished he could just merge with the unwashed clothes and disappear. He didn’t know how to face the others, face the mess he’d made.

In all honesty, he didn’t want to.

He knew he had to, eventually. He couldn’t stay in this room forever, even if he was technically capable of it. But the mere thought of having to look them all in the eyes and come clean, having to explain everything, to admit to all the lies and tricks, to accept that nothing would ever be the same again because of him—

This is all your fault, you did this, you’re the one to blame. Your fault, your fault, your fault.

— to see how much he’d hurt them.

Oh and by the way, I told you so.

This room, this solitude was his last resort before he had to take another step into the abyss.

At least he had that.

The master of earth threw a wary glance towards the door as if it would come swinging open any second. It wasn’t exactly an obstacle. Each and everyone of the ninja could’ve easily kicked it off its hinges if they so pleased. Cole wasn’t even sure he’d locked it.

Yet no one tried to barge in. No one knocked. No one called for him from the other side.

Cole understood. He wouldn’t want to see himself either. Not after what he’d done.

Why would any of them want to talk to you? You’ve been pulling on their legs for weeks. See how open to a conversation you would be in their place.

He had long stopped trying to argue with the voice. Just allowed himself to drown in that resentment, that guilt, that self-hatred.

He deserved it.

Cole didn’t know what day it was, how long he’d stayed here. Not that it really mattered. He could sit motionless in this spot, till the end of time, till the ticking seconds, days, years turned this whole monastery to sand. Till the passage of time erased everything he’d ever known. And he’d still be here.

In theory.

He didn’t want to leave his room.

What was the point?

He could just stay here and rot away like he was supposed to.

After all, he had been meant to die back then. And he had, but he had stayed anyway, defying fate and nature itself just by holding onto the world of the living, still clinging to it like a burdock seed. Still clinging to them.

And yet you’d rather sit here, buried in dirty clothes and self pity, than grow a pair and talk to them. Actually talk to them.

They deserved better. Better than him.

Cole spared the door another look. 

Still closed.

[Earlier]

The controller vibrated uselessly in Cole's hands—another death screen flashing as his character tripped into a spike pit. Jay's laughter bounced off the monastery walls, bright and carefree in a way that made Cole's hollow chest ache.

"Dude, you're playing like my grandma after her arthritis meds kick in," Jay wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes as Cole's avatar face-planted for the seventh time. Nya swatted Jay's arm but couldn't hide her grin. Cole's answering chuckle came out too stiff—the sound of a person pretending to still have lungs to expel air. The controller slipped again, his thumb joint locking up mid-button press.

Things had gotten back on track between them after Cole’s heart to heart with Nya. Jay wasn’t giving him the cold shoulder anymore, the air no longer feeling oppressive and buzzing with unseen tension. It wasn’t quite like before, but it was better. And the master of water had finally stopped looking at Cole as if he’d vanish into thin air any second. 

He didn’t want to jinx it, but things had been looking up lately.

The same couldn't be said about his gaming performance. The lack of his pseudo sleep had taken a toll on his fine motor stills. Trying to manage the joystick when he could barely control his fingers had proven to be quite a challenge. The clumsy digits kept missing the buttons, making his character die one ridiculous death after another.

You’re the one to talk.

Ah, and of course, the voice. His constant companion. The fact that he’d gotten used to it didn't make the salty reproaches any less annoying.

“Look what we have here~” Kai sing-songed, sliding into the room on his socks, a big plate in hands.

Cake. Chocolate frosting swirled in decadent peaks, studded with rainbow sprinkles—the exact kind from that bakery near the docks where they'd celebrated Cole's 16th birthday. Back when his hands could grip the fork without calculating how to mimic chewing. Back when swallowing didn't feel like forcing wet sand down a collapsing tunnel. The look of it alone made his dead tastebuds remember sweetness.

“Your favorite. Figured you’d want the first slice,” Lloyd chimed in, peeking from behind his brother, as Kai placed the dish right on the black ninja’s lap.

Cole forced the most miserable grin in existence as the thoughts in his head raced in panic, bouncing off the walls of his cracked skull. Of all the things to threaten his secret, a cake was the last thing Cole expected to stab him in the back. As absurd as this situation was, he would rather his siblings didn't see him choking on his once favorite treat.

“Nah, I’m good.”

That earned him a handful of weird looks. 

Kai voiced what everyone else probably thought.

“You’re good? Since when do you say ‘no’ to cake? You coming down with something, buddy?”

Cole wanted to hit himself over the head.

Of course they found it suspicious. It was one thing to stop eating around them and another to turn down the sweet delight that was cake. The only other time he’d chosen not to eat the dessert was—

“My body is a temple.”

A haunted one, that is.

Jay groaned.

“Again? I thought you were done with this nonsense.”

The excuse came up on its own, like a well-rehearsed song.

“There’s no one to fight, how else am I supposed to keep myself in shape?”

“Are you body-shaming us right now?” Kai parried with a mischievous grin. Jay and Lloyd booed in unison. Nya let out an amused huff and Cole winked at her.

“Cole has a point,” Zane noted in that walking-enciclopedia way of his. And, although he seemed to agree with the earth ninja, he wasn’t smiling, or looking at Cole for that matter. He just kept stirring the tea he’d brought from the kitchen. “It has come to my knowledge that we have all become, for the lack of a better word, lazy. A simple mission or two would definitely do us some good.”

Lloyd perked in excitement.

“Master Wu mentioned that a group of archaeologists has discovered an ancient temple not too far away from here. He said it could be the one that held this Skullkin artifact, some kind of compass or something, that could be useful to us.”

“Ah, yes, the Jade Compass. Rumoured to navigate the Underworld,” Zane picked up, “Pixal and I have been looking into it these past couple of days and I must say, it is quite possible that the Compass is there.”

Kai grinned and elbowed the nindroid.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Frosty?”

“Assuming that you’re thinking of a mission to retrieve a mystical artifact from a partially destroyed temple, then yes.”

“…Dude, you could’ve just said field trip.”

***

The engine of Cole’s dirt bike growled beneath him as he skidded to a stop, kicking up a spray of gravel. The narrow mountain path gave way abruptly, revealing the Skullkin Temple—a jagged silhouette against the storm-gray sky. 

A crumbling shrine in the mountains, half-buried by landslides, its spires clawing at the sky like the ribcage of some long-dead beast. The stonework—once obsidian-black, now weathered to ashen gray—bore the scars of centuries, its surface pockmarked by wind and war. It wasn’t in ruins, not exactly. It seemed to be…asleep.

The entrance yawned open, a toothless maw framed by twin pillars carved in the likeness of skeletal warriors, their hollow eyes watching, waiting.

Without saying a word, the ninja hopped off their respective vehicles and entered.

The atmosphere inside was oppressive, to say the least.

Rough stone walls pressed in on them, seemingly tightening as they went, keeping the ninja aware of the multi-ton mountain perched on top and surrounding them from all sides. The air was stale and heavy, typical for a cave this deep. Cole couldn’t smell it, but he could bet it reeked of mold and sulfur.

The friezes on the walls depicted forgotten battles, their figures eroded into grotesque silhouettes—faces melted away, leaving only screaming mouths.

It felt like a place long forgotten. Something that might’ve been magnificent once. Beautiful, pristine, with intricate carvings adorning the well-polished walls. A sanctuary, illuminated in the warm gleam of torches, hushed chants and prayers filling the air. 

That’s what it could’ve been like ages ago. Now it was abandoned. Cold and hollow and lifeless. Only a miserable shadow of its former self.

Projecting much?

"Why do evil temples always have skull motifs?” Jay whined, eyeing the engravings nervously.

Cole rolled his eyes.

“It’s a Skullkin temple, of course it’s got skulls everywhere, genius.”

“Yeah, real subtle. Like, wow, yeah, we get it, you’re spooky. But can’t they decorate with, like, bunnies? Or kittens. Or butterflies. Although, no, butterflies are terrifying up close."

Kai kicked a piece of rubble from under his feet. It flew off and disappeared in the dark with a sharp clank.

"Focus. In-and-out job. Cole, sensing anything?"

"The ground's unstable. Watch your step." 

The earth ninja crouched and placed one hand on the ground, reaching out with his power, trying to sense beyond the hallway they were in. And soon enough, he found it — a cavity, hollowness among the solid mass of rock not too deep under their feet. 

However, there was something off about that empty space. Cole couldn’t quite put his finger on it but it almost felt smudged. Something was preventing him from seeing it clearly, he couldn’t even guess its size or shape. As if someone spilled coffee over the blueprint he’d been trying to study. Cole clicked his tongue in annoyance. Count on the whole being dead situation to mess with his powers — the only aspect of his life he could still rely on. 

“I’m pretty sure there’s a room beneath us. We should look for a staircase.”

The cool blue glow of Zane’s eyes lit up the path ahead, flickering off the damp cobblestone and casting sharp shadows over the uneven surface. Only a few more steps ahead, was a small unassuming tunnel leading downward. The ninja proceeded carefully, mindful of the ancient stairs, chipped from age and slippery with cave water and moss.

As they went, the path narrowed to the point they could only walk one after another, the ceiling lowering, the walls pressing uncomfortably at their sides. They felt constricted, cramped up in the belly of some giant beast. 

The air grew thick with the scent of wet stone and something older—like the breath of a tomb that had waited centuries for their arrival. Jay's elbow bumped the wall, sending a shower of grit raining down his gi. 

"Okay, who designed this place?" he muttered, wiping dust from his eyelashes. "A claustrophobic goblin?"

“Wouldn’t someone claustrophobic try to avoid places like that?”

Nya’s question made Jay pause, causing Kai to bump into him, the two of them nearly stumbling over. The fire ninja let out a displeased snort.

“How about we discuss this after we’re out of these catacombs? Or never. I’m good with either.”

Before the walls could close around them completely, the tunnel ended and they all poured out into a small clearing. Zane scanned the walls for hidden passages and sure enough there was one right in front of them. Inscribed in stone were some peculiar signs, something between drawings and letters, too patchy and uneven to be a simple decorative pattern. Those must’ve been the instructions for opening the door.

Lloyd traced the carvings with gloved fingers, the symbols glowing faintly under his touch like a sluggish heartbeat. 

"It's not a language," he realized. "It's a test." 

As if summoned by his words, the markings rearranged themselves—stone grinding against stone—forming a perfect circle of skeletons, intertwined in something akin to a dance. The sound of shifting rock echoed like bones rattling in a coffin. The heavy monolith door slowly slid upwards, scraping against the stone until it disappeared in the notch in the ceiling, revealing the room up ahead. 

“Well…that was a surprisingly easy test,” Jay deadpaned.

Nya flicked his shoulder.

“Don’t jinx it.”

One by one, the ninja entered the dimly lit hall and looked around. The interior was almost entirely bare, save for a simple stone altar right in the middle of the room. Perched on that altar was the Jade Compass. Or at least something that looked awfully similar to it, as much as a weirdly shaped green trinket could.

The artifact hung in the air only a breath away from the platform, completely still, as if the laws of physics bent around it. Its surface wasn't polished jade but something more organic—veined like a fossilized leaf, throbbing with inner light. 

Kai reached out instinctively before catching himself. 

"That thing's watching us," he breathed. 

The Compass's glow intensified at his words, casting their shadows tall and twisted against the walls.

“Don’t be such a scaredy cat, this is just an old bauble, not even a weapon.”

The Compass shone brighter when Nya picked it up, emitting a low humming sound—

Behind them, the stone panel slammed shut, sealing their only exit. Rumbling ominously, the altar collapsed into itself and retracted into the floor. 

And then the whole room started to shake.

"The walls are compressing. My scans indicate—"

"Yeah, we see it!" Kai cut the nindroid off.

His fists ignited for a second, only for the fire to give a pathetic little spark and die in a puff of smoke.

Jay smacked his own forehead in frustration.

“Vengestone! OF COURSE IT HAD TO BE VENGESTONE! WHY IS EVERYTHING ALWAYS MADE OF VENGESTONE?!”

Nya fell to the floor, running her hands across the tile that used to be the predella of the altar. She tried to pull it back up but it didn’t budge.

"No powers. No exits. We need another way!"

The room was getting smaller by the second, the already limited space turning suffocating, the musty air now spiked with fear.

Stone groaned like a living thing as the walls pressed inward, their surfaces sweating ancient groundwater. Jay's panicked breaths came in sharp bursts beside Cole's ear—too fast, too human. Across the shrinking space, Lloyd and Kai braced against the opposite wall, their boots skidding uselessly on the slick stone floor. 

The Compass's hum had risen to a shriek, its green light now pulsing in time with Cole's non-existent heartbeat.

He pushed with all his might, his back against the wall, but it did not yield. Useless! Without his earth powers he was no stronger than a regular jock! Muscles tore like wet paper as he strained, his undead flesh refusing to knit itself back together under pressure. Something in his left shoulder popped with a sound like stepping on frozen mud. Nya's scream of effort cut off abruptly as the water ninja's arm gave in, her shoulder slamming into the stone, back hitting Cole's side—warm living skin pressed against stiff muscle, both equally powerless.

He could already feel his broken bones shifting under the immense pressure.There were only a few seconds left before he would push past his limits and snap like a twig.

His ribs caved first—not with the clean snap of mortal bones, but with the slow, sickening crumple of a rotting pumpkin. The pain was distant, muffled, like his nerves were already dead. Because they were. Fluid welled in his throat, thick as tar. He was coming apart.

Even if the room hadn’t been stuffed with Vengestone and his super strength had still been intact, he wouldn’t have made it. His mutilated body would’ve simply folded in half like a lawn chair, the fractured spine unable to support the crushing weight of this stone trap.

Cole’s jaw locked, teeth gritted so hard he felt a molar crack. 

Is that it? Is that how we all die?

Well, no. That’s how they die. We did that over a month ago, in case you forgot.

That’s…right.

Cole’s eyes widened as the epiphany struck him over the head. 

He had already died. He was a ghost. A ghost.

“Guys! I have a crazy idea, but you have to promise not to freak out!” he yelled over the screeching of the ancient gears.

Everybody turned to him, a mixture of panic and confusion etched into their faces.

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re already freaking out!” Jay shouted back, matching his volume.

Cole might’ve even flinched back, if there was any space left between him and the wall. But there wasn’t. They were running out of time.

“Whatever it is,” Lloyd piped in, trying to seem collected but he sounded just as terrified as the rest of them, “just do it!”

“Okay!” 

I warned you.

Without wasting another second, Cole started pulling his gi off. For once, he wasn’t thankful for all the layers his clothing provided. It was a hindrance. A risk that could’ve been avoided. Precious seconds wasted for nothing. A step closer to certain doom.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Ugh, Cole? I know you said you had an idea but—” Kai trailed off as he was being pushed forward by the wall behind him, his boots seconds away from touching Cole’s.

The earth ninja looked up. He could feel the determination filling him to the brim. He had a job to do and First Master knew he was gonna fucking do it.

“Trust me.”

I will save you.

Cole was out of his body before the Deepstone undershirt could hit the ground.

Chapter Text

[Lloyd]

Morro!

The moment the green mist emerged from Cole’s chest, Lloyd’s blood turned to ice.  

No. No, not again.

His back hit the wall, the impact barely registering. His vision tunneled—all he could see was that flickering silhouette, the same sickly green as the ghost that had once worn his face, the one that had haunted his nightmares for years.

It was only there for a moment before diving right into the solid stone, taking that eerie supernatural light with it. The second it left, Cole’s body went limp like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Cole!”

Standing the closest (although they were all pretty damn close at the moment), Jay managed to catch their brother before he could drop to the ground.

Lloyd could see the blue ninja’s knees buckle under the weight but he didn’t rush to help. He couldn’t move at all. He would've been frozen to the spot if it wasn’t for the wall abidingly pushing him forward, closer and closer to his seemingly unconscious teammate.

Every muscle in Lloyd’s body tensed up, stomach tying into a knot as he kept seeing that…that ghost — it could’ve been nothing else — right before his eyes. He felt sick.

Lloyd’s gaze snapped to Cole’s body—limp, lifeless—as Jay struggled to keep them both upright. The way Cole’s head bobbed, the way his arms hung completely will-less—  

Like a corpse.

His chest wasn’t moving. (Had it ever been? Had Lloyd just not noticed?)  

And that ghost—that thing—had come from inside him.  

Thoughts rushed erratically inside his head like a dozen butterflies stuck in a jar. Only torn fragments actually reached his consciousness.

Possession? When? How?! All ghosts were gone from their realm!

And Cole was fine—he was fine just a second ago!

Or was he?

How long? HOW LONG HAD HE BEEN—

First Master, had they been blind to it for weeks? Months? Years?!

The walls groaned, inching closer.  

"What the fuck was that?" Kai’s voice cracked, halfway between fury and terror. He lunged forward — a truly unnecessary move in such limited space — to grab Cole by the shoulders and shake him awake.

Nothing happened.

“Kai—“

Lloyd didn’t hear the rest. His fingers dug into the stone behind him, nails scraping uselessly.  

This isn’t happening.

But it was.  

And the worst part?  

He’d seen it before. 

[Cole] 

Finally free of his physical confinement, Cole dashed straight for the retracted altar, phasing through the floor and putting all of his focus into the still available senses. He felt the rock matter around himself, manoeuvring between the leaking cracks with practiced ease and searching, searching, searching for that cursed trigger mechanism. He only had a few seconds, a few agonisingly pathetic seconds, to find it, to stop the trap, to save them.

COME ON, WHERE ARE YOU?!

The world blurred into streaks of stone and glowing yellow as he surged through the temple’s foundation, his consciousness barely keeping up with the intangible form. 

The texture of the earth screamed at him—gritty, ancient, wrong in a way living rock shouldn’t be. Vengeance Stone pulsed through the walls like poison, its energy gnawing at the edges of his awareness.

Cole felt the mechanism before he saw it—a knot of grinding gears, rusted but still moving, still dangerous. One more rotation, and the teeth would fall into the final slot.  

One more rotation and his entire ninja family would be dead.

The master of earth slammed his glowing lava fist into the gears. 

"STOP—"

The metal shrieked. Cole’s entire essence flickered from the impact, like a lake, disturbed by a pebble thrown in it.  

“Not yet. NOT YET—"

He hit it again and again, panicked, urgent strikes, each accompanied by a cry of effort and desperation.

With a final, grating screech, the mechanism jammed. The gears, chipped and bent out of shape, jittered in their places, giving a few last jerks, before the whole thing fell apart. Even down here, Cole could hear the walls halting to a stop.

He made it.

The black ninja felt himself dissolve a little from a wave of relief, his ghostly form spread over the ruined mechanism.

He made it.

Only allowing himself a second long break, Cole wrenched himself back toward his body, the Vengestone layers tearing at him like claws. As if the temple itself wanted to keep some of him trapped and buried as payment for its broken wind-up toy.

Reality snapped into focus in a splash of light and noise as Cole crashed back into his abandoned flesh.

[Jay]

The second Cole’s body hit his arms, Jay’s brain short-circuited.  

It was wrong, all of it was wrong.

He was too heavy, too limp. The way Cole’s head lolled back against his shoulder, the way his limbs dropped like wet rope. 

Wrong wrong wrong—

The walls kept pushing forward. Just a few seconds and there wouldn’t be any space left between them.

Deja vu hit Jay like a truck.

The garbage press in his parents’ junkyard. The smell of rotting trash. Cole’s voice, strained but alive, yelling at him to move, Jay, MOVE—

But this time, Cole wasn’t yelling.  

This time, Cole wasn’t breathing.   

Jay’s arms locked around the other’s chest, his own breath coming in ragged, panicked bursts. 

No no no no—

Then—  

A shuddering clank echoed through the chamber. The walls stopped.

For one heartbeat, there was silence.  

Then, with a shudder, the slabs began sliding back.  

Jay’s knees gave out. 

He hit the ground hard, Cole still cradled against him, Kai’s hands suddenly there, gripping his shoulders—when had Kai gotten so close?—not letting the black ninja’s weight crush him.  

The master of lightning huffed a weary breath.

Was it over? Were they actually safe now?

Jay’s grip on Cole shifted as he felt something wrong beneath his fingers—something that made his stomach lurch. Almost subconsciously, he traced his gloved hand over some weird bumps across Cole’s back, as if the underlying ribs had been rearranged incorrectly. Like someone got bored of a puzzle and just stuffed all the pieces inside without any sort of order, not caring if they don’t fit or might poke right through.

The blue ninja wrenched his hand away before his imaginative mind could draw a grotesque picture.

“Zane, please tell me there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for whatever’s happening.”

Zane didn’t answer. His optics flickered, scanning Cole’s body with clinical precision. The glow of his eyes reflected off the earth ninja’s face.  

"Respiratory functions: absent," Zane said tonelessly. "Cardiac activity: zero. Neural signals:” A pause, “inconsistent with living tissue." 

Jay’s hands twitched, torn between letting go and holding tighter—as if Cole might crumble if he moved. Cold sweat prickled his neck. 

This isn’t healing. This isn’t fixable.

Jay couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think.

All he could do was stare at Cole’s too still face, and wait for that green flash — a ghost, it was a ghost — to come back.

Come back it did. 

The pale silhouette slid right out of the floor just a few inches to the left of where he sat. And then, without hesitation it floated closer and sunk back into Cole’s body.

He didn’t gasp, didn’t cough. Didn’t take a long raspy breath they show in movies. No. He just…opened his eyes and reached for his discarded clothes, like nothing happened.

They all watched in stunned silence as Cole put his weird undershirt, hoodie and gi — had he always been wearing this many clothes? —back on.

For one breathless second, nothing happened.  

"Trap’s disabled," Cole declared, tone infuriatingly nonchalant.  

Silence.  

Lloyd finally found his voice. 

"Cole. What the hell are you?"  

Cole’s smile looked as broken as a shard of glass. 

"Pretty sure you just saw."  

Jay scrambled away from Cole like he’d been electrocuted. 

"You—you are a ghost again?! You died?! When?! HOW?!"  

Cole opened his mouth—  

Nya spoke first.  

"The ship." Her voice cut through the air a pristine blade. "The fall." Her hands shook.  

Cole looked away.  

Kai exploded, his voice too loud in the limited space.

"AND YOU DIDN’T TELL US?!"  

"What good would it have done?!" Cole snapped back, then flinched—his voice had echoed, just for a second, like it was coming from everywhere at once.  

Zane tilted his head. 

"Your vocal cords shouldn’t be capable of—"  

"Zane. Not now," Lloyd interrupted. “Cole, what’s going on?”

The door to the room retracted at last, revealing the chipped staircase that had brought them there. 

Nobody moved.  

Cole’s eyes darted between them and the exit, intent clear as day.

“Cole, don’t you dare—!”

The earth ninja fled the hall before anyone had a chance to stop him.

Zane held Kai back as he tried to run after their teammate.

Jay’s head throbbed. The pieces were slotting together: Cole’s avoidance of meals, his stiff movements, the way he’d flinched when Jay clapped him on the back yesterday.  

He’d been dead this whole time.

And then, the worst thought of all:  

We left him behind.

[Kai]

The engine of Kai’s ATV roared beneath him, a violent, thrashing sound that matched the storm in his chest. His grip on the handles was white-knuckled, fingers cramping from the force of it, but he couldn’t loosen his hold. If he did, he might fucking explode.  

Cole was dead.

Not dead like Zane had been—rebuilt, repaired, fixed—but dead dead. A corpse. A ghost. A fucking spirit stuffed back into a broken body like some kind of messed-up puppet show. And none of them had noticed. Not for weeks. Not until the temple had forced his hand.  

Kai’s jaw ached from how hard he was clenching it. The wind whipped at his face, sharp and stinging, but he barely felt it. All he could see was Cole’s body collapsing like a sack of meat, his ghost slithering out of him like it had been there all along.  

Had it?

Had Cole been walking around like that this whole time, cracked ribs and cold skin and no heartbeat, while Kai loafed around and cracked jokes.

The thought made him sick.  

He didn’t know if he was mad at Cole or himself or the Oni or the forsaken temple or the whole fucking world. Maybe all of them. Maybe none. It didn’t matter. The anger was there, burning under his skin like his own flames, and he had nowhere to put it.  

He died alone.

That was the worst part.  

Cole had fallen from that ship, bones shattered on impact, and none of them had been there. They’d just assumed he’d walked it off, because Cole always walked it off.  

Kai’s vision blurred. He swiped at his face with a furious growl, blaming the road dust.  

Stupid. So fucking stupid.

The monastery gates loomed ahead. Kai didn’t slow down.

[Zane]

Zane pulled his hand away from where it’s been pinching the bridge of his nose when he heard someone enter the workshop.

He wouldn’t mistake these footsteps for anything.

“I don’t understand, Pixal.” He sighed, defeated, one hand running through his silver hair. “Why would he do it? Why would he ever feel the need to hide this from us?”

To Zane’s surprise, his fellow nindroid made a noise that sounded almost…almost like a little laugh. 

“Peculiar, how you are the one asking that question.”

He turned towards her, utterly confused.

“What do you mean?”

Pixal’s emerald green eyes glimmered a little when she tilted her head.

“Tell me, how does the newfound truth make you feel?”

Awful. 

Miserable. Helpless.

Guilty.

When Zane stayed silent, she came closer.

“Are any of those feelings positive?”

“No.”

Another step forward.

“Is there an immediate solution that would fix the situation and soothe your mind?”

“…no.”

She was standing right in front of him now.

“Do you see where I’m leading with this?”

“I do.”

Pixal’s hand landed on his forearm, a comforting gesture. Zane covered it with his own.

“What did you mean earlier? You said it was peculiar.”

“Out of all the ninja, you are the only one yet to experience the loss of a teammate.”

The master of ice felt a chill run through his body. The kind that had nothing to do with his powers.

“Sacrifice is a double edged sword, Zane,” Pixal continued, a certain wistfulness coloring her tone, “One might die a hero, having protected their loved ones. Yet by saving their lives, the hero condemns them to grief. One party gets to live, knowing they only survived because the other one did not.”

Zane’s fingers twitched at his sides, his usual precision dulled by the weight of her words. 

“Then is survival truly a gift,” he asked quietly, “or merely a delayed punishment?”

“The cause may be noble, but no sacrifice can save one from the pain of loss. Or from guilt.”

The nindroid’s gaze dropped.

Is this what I have put you all through?

Pixal tugged the sleeve of his gi lightly, pulling his attention back to her.

“Cole may not have lost his life in the typical sense. He is still here, even managing to mask his state for as long as he did. But that does not erase the fact that he has, indeed, died.”

“And that it could’ve been prevented.” Zane added, his artificial heart feeling heavier than ever.

Pixal gave his forearm a reassuring squeeze.

“After everything, I can see why Cole would choose to keep his condition secret,” she said softly, for once, looking away herself, “I’m not saying it was the right decision. Or a good one. But I understand.”

Zane pulled her into a gentle embrace.

He, too, understood now.

But it didn’t make it better.

[Wu]

The rhythmic thud of fists against training dummy leather echoed down the monastery halls long after midnight. Wu paused in the doorway, watching.  

Nya moved with mechanical precision—jab, cross, elbow—her strikes brutal, her form flawless. Blood smeared the dummy’s canvas where her knuckles had split open. She didn’t stop. Didn’t even flinch.  

Wu stepped forward. 

"Nya."

She didn’t turn. 

"Don’t." A kick sent the dummy swinging violently. "I’m not in the mood for wisdom right now."

The bitterness in her voice wasn’t new. It was, however, more raw than ever.  

Wu studied her—the tremor in her shoulders, the way her breath hitched between strikes. This wasn’t training. This was punishment.  

"The turbine was an accident," he said quietly.  

Her next punch cracked the dummy’s wooden spine. 

"It doesn’t matter."  

"Cole doesn’t blame you."

"HE SHOULD!" She whirled on him, eyes blazing. Blood dripped from her clenched fists. "He died, Master. And instead of—of telling us, instead of letting us help him, he just—" Her voice broke. "He lied. For weeks."

Wu saw it then—the guilt festering beneath her rage. The horror of realizing she’d joked with him, sparred with him, teased him, never knowing his heart hadn’t been beating for weeks.  

He reached for her injured hands. She jerked back.  

"Nya—"

"Why didn’t he trust us?" The words were a whisper, raw and wounded.  

Wu exhaled. There was no easy answer. No mantra to fix this.  

"Because," he said at last, "he loved you too much to watch you grieve."

Nya’s breath caught. For the first time that night, she looked young. Too young for the crushing weight that had fallen upon her.

Wu offered his sleeve—for her hands, for her tears. After a heartbeat, she took it.

“We were just here, talking,” she sobbed in his arms, “I thought he’d opened up to me, he said- he said that—“

The water ninja gasped wetly, tears choking her.

“He just sat there and let me believe he was going to be fine one day! But he won’t! Ever! And it’s all my fault!”

Sensei Wu patted her head, hoping to bring at least a smidge of comfort.

“We all make mistakes. They remain as a part of us.  A burden we must all carry. But they do not define us.”

Nya shuddered so violently, Wu feared she might lose her footing.

“But what if my mistake defined him?”

For once, the wise, all-knowing Sensei had nothing to say.

Chapter Text

The silence in Cole’s room was a physical weight, thick and suffocating. He still sat in his spot in the corner, arms hugging his knees, staring at the closed door. On the other side of it, the monastery was quiet—too quiet. No clatter from the kitchen, no friendly bickering from the hall, no hum of the Bounty’s engines. Just a heavy, waiting stillness. They were giving him space. The thought made his no longer functional stomach twist.

They know.

The truth was out. His undead status had been revealed, his ghosthood laid bare. And he’d run. He’d fled their horrified stares and locked himself away like a fairytale beast in a dungeon. Now, he was debating the one thing that terrified him more than dying: opening that door and facing them.

Why would you even want to go out there? the voice sneered in the back of his mind. It sounded just like him, but twisted, sharpened by fear and self-loathing. So they can look at you like you’re a monster, an abomination? Oh, wait.

Cole squeezed his eyes shut.

“They don’t think that.”

Don’t they? You saw their faces. Jay looked like he was gonna be sick. Lloyd looked at you like you were Morro all over again. And Nya… she couldn’t look at you at all.

“They just need time,” Cole argued aloud, his voice a raspy, unused thing in the empty room. “It’s a lot to process.”

You’ve had weeks to process it. They’ve had hours. You hid this from them. You lied to them. Every day. You looked them in the eye and you lied. Why? Why did you do that? What were you so afraid of?

I didn’t want them to blame themselves for what happened.

And why would they?

Cole chuckled. It was a bitter, humourless sound.

I know my team. They all have bleeding hearts, they all put too much on themselves. They’d think it’s their fault I didn’t make it, didn't really make it. If they knew from the start that I’ve died, they’d blame themselves for the turbine accident, Nya already did. They’d blame themselves for not rescuing me, for not coming for me in time—

For not coming for you, period.

They left you alone in that tower. Left you to die.

Cole sank deeper in the nest of dirty laundry he’d made for himself. He could still feel the phantom ache of broken bones that no longer truly hurt—a memory of the fall etched not in pain, but in shame.

There was Oni smoke everywhere, what were they even supposed to do?

Something! Anything! Why do we always have to bend over backwards to ensure everyone’s okay but when it’s us literally dying they just get to fly away?! You broke the fucking rules of nature just to keep standing by their side while a flimsy excuse of “ops, guess theres nothing to be done” was all they needed to call you a goner and leave!

No, they…it’s not like that.

Sure. Keep telling yourself that. 

…

Keep blaming yourself.

Stop.

Keep hating yourself.

Stop that.

Keep torturing yourself if you’re too stubborn to admit that—

Enough!

They. Fucked. Up.

“Don’t fucking say that!”

He couldn’t help but growl it out loud.

The words tasted like rust. Like dry lips bitten bloody. Like glass shards on his tongue.

It’s true! They let us down. I know it. You know it. And it’s about time they knew it, too! Tell me, why do they get to walk away scot free and live in blissful ignorance while you destroy yourself and slowly lose your mind, suffocating in all that guilt and misery?

“Because that was the whole point! I was trying to protect them, to save them from this!”

Well they did a shit job saving you.

…

Better me, than any of them.

If the cruel voice in his head had a physical form, it would've rolled its eyes.

Seriously? This is the hill you choose to die on?

Cole’s teeth ground together with too much force, his leg kicking a stray piece of clothing in helpless anger.

I never fucking chose to die.

Yet you just can’t wait to put more pressure on yourself than you can possibly cary, can’t wait to shoulder the burden for everyone on your own.

At least I know what it’s like to be a ghost. I have experience. I could handle it like no other. It was almost bearable the second time around, not as disorienting. Heck, I didn't even notice at first!

Listen to yourself. Saying all this like it’s a good thing. Why does this always have to happen to us? Haven't we died enough? When do we catch a fucking break? When we’re dead?! News flash!

Cole grabbed the sides of his head, pulling on the hair in frustration.

Shut up, shut up! You’re only making it worse! First, you say this is all my fault, now you’re saying that none of it is? What the hell is your problem?!

My problem? You’re the one with a problem! I’m you, idiot!

I am everything you refuse to admit even to yourself. I am every feeling you try to repress. I am every disturbing conclusion you draw yet try to push aside. I am every single thought you don’t want to be thinking. 

And, right now, the voice went on, softer, almost pitying, you finally start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, you’re not the one to blame for every sin of mankind. Right now, you’re asking yourself: did I really have it coming? What the hell did I even do to deserve that?

A choked sound escaped him. He wanted to deny it. Wanted to scream that he did deserve it—that he should’ve held on tighter, moved faster, been better.

But the voice didn’t let him.

And the answer is “nothing”. It was a fucking accident.

Silence. 

Heavy. Suffocating.

Cole’s hands fell from his head, resting limp in his lap. He stared at the wall without seeing it.

For the first time since he’d woken up dead, the noise in his head… stopped.

And that was almost worse.

***

The silence in the monastery’s main hall had stretched for too long. It was a thick, uncomfortable thing, broken only by the distant creak of the ship’s hull and the low hum of ancient wiring. They’d been sitting there for what felt like hours, none of them willing to be the first to move, to voice what they all knew needed to happen.

It was Lloyd who finally stood up. His movement was stiff, but his jaw was set with a resolve that had been missing since the temple. 

“We can’t keep doing this,” he said, his voice low but cutting through the quiet. “He’s not going to come out. We have to go in.”

No one argued. Jay pushed himself up from the couch, wringing his hands nervously. Kai rose with a sharp, frustrated sigh, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Zane and Nya exchanged a silent, grim look before standing as well. They moved as a unit, a silent, somber procession down the dimly lit corridor to Cole’s door.

They stopped outside it. The wood felt like a barrier more solid than the temple’s stone walls. Lloyd lifted a hand to knock, then hesitated, his fist hovering in the air.

Kai’s patience, worn thinner than a razor’s edge, snapped. 

“Oh, for the love of—” He shouldered past Lloyd and didn’t knock. He just shoved the door open.

It wasn’t locked.

The room was dark, the only light a sliver of moonbeam cutting across the floor. Cole was sitting in the furthest corner, still dressed in his dusty gi, staring at his hands. He didn’t startle at their sudden entrance. He just slowly lifted his head. In the gloom, his face was all sharp angles and shadows, his eyes holding a weary, resigned light that was nothing like the Cole they knew.

***

For a moment, no one spoke. They just stood clustered in the doorway, a jury of his closest friends, there to deliver a verdict he’d been running from for weeks.

Cole’s gaze drifted over each of them—their worried, angry, heartbroken faces—he’d known they would come. He’d taken too long. He’d been too scared, too weak. 

The earth ninja got up. It was time he stopped running.

“Guys, I…”

The words got caught up in his throat. All coherent thoughts erased from his mind before he had a chance to voice them.

Truly pathetic.

“Have a lot to tell us?” Jay suggested, no usual teasing in his tone, “Yeah, we know.”

When Cole didn’t answer, Lloyd stepped in. His voice was quiet, but it commanded the room. 

“We want the truth, Cole. All of it.”

Right.

Of course.

Cole opened his mouth, but Nya spoke instead, bandaged hands clenched into fists at her sides.

“It was the fall, wasn’t it? It killed you, you said so yourself.” Her words weren’t a question; they were an accusation leveled at herself. “I killed you.”

“No!” The black ninja’s voice rose on its own accord. “It was an accident, Nya. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Then why lie?!” Kai snapped, “Why let us think you were okay? Why let us joke and train and—and live like nothing happened while you were… that?” 

He gestured vaguely at Cole’s entire body, his anger a shield for his horror.

Cole’s gaze ran over them all again. 

Wasn’t it obvious?

“Because I know what it’s like to lose someone, okay? I know what grief does to people, what it does to you. I’ve seen it. I couldn’t… I couldn’t do that to you again. I couldn’t be the reason for that pain.”

“Your logic is flawed,” Zane stated, his tone not unkind, but analytical. A coping mechanism. “By concealing your death, you have not prevented grief. You have only ensured it would be compounded by betrayal and confusion. The emotional damage is now exponentially greater.”

Cole winced. Zane’s cold, hard facts were somehow worse than Kai’s yelling.

“We’re a team! We’re supposed to… I don’t know, mourn together! You don’t just get to decide to skip that part for us! That wasn’t your choice to make!”

“Jay’s right.” Lloyd’s green eyes were filled with a leader’s disappointment and a friend’s profound hurt. “You kept us in the dark. You didn’t trust us.”

That felt like a twist of a knife.

You didn’t trust us.

Cole’s entire being tied into a knot somewhere behind his solar plexus.

“It wasn’t about trust! It was about… it was about watching the light leave your eyes when you looked at me. It was about not wanting to see that pity. That revulsion.” The dam was broken, words, uncontrollable, emotional, painful, finally spilling out. “I’d rather have you mad at me than see you grieving for me. I’d rather be a liar in your eyes than a fucking corpse.”

The raw honesty finally stole the anger from the room, leaving only the devastating ache beneath it.

Nya’s voice was a whisper, tears finally spilling over. The pristine white gauze over her knuckles was already stained with blood.

“You idiot. You self-sacrificing idiot. We wouldn’t have been grieving a corpse. We would have been fighting for our friend. And you didn’t let us.”

A long, shaky silence followed. The truth was out, hanging in the air between them, ugly and unavoidable.

Kai ran a hand over his face, the fight gone out of him.

“So what now? What… what even are you now, Cole?”

“I’m still me,” Cole replied, his voice barely audible. “I’m just…a bit different now.” 

Broken. I’m broken beyond repair. 

“And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I lied. I don’t know what I— I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Of course not—“

”Yes, yes you are!”

“Jay!”

“You are the biggest idiot in the world!” The blue ninja sobbed, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “But you’re our idiot, you hear me?! When bad things happen, you come to us!”

Cole could only nod and hide his eyes in shame.

The quiet that followed was thick, heavy with a pain that had no easy outlet. The anger had burned away, leaving behind the raw, aching truth: they were heartbroken, and he was sorry, and none of it changed what had happened.

It was Lloyd who moved first. He didn’t say a word. He just stepped forward, his leader’s composure crumbling into something far younger and more vulnerable, and wrapped his arms around Cole’s shoulders.

The contact was electric. Cole stiffened, a reflex born of weeks of avoiding touch, of hiding the cold, unforgiving truth of his skin. But Lloyd didn’t pull back. He just held on, his grip tight, his face buried in Cole’s shoulder.

Then Kai was there, his embrace rougher, almost desperate, one arm hooking around Cole’s neck, the other clapping hard against his back. 

“You’re such a bonehead,” he muttered, his voice thick, and the old, fond insult was the most beautiful thing Cole had ever heard.

Zane joined them, his embrace precise but no less fierce, a steady, cool presence against Cole’s left side. 

“We remain a team,” he stated, as if it were a fundamental law of the universe he was reaffirming.

Nya was next, slipping in, her bandaged hands gentle as she pressed her forehead against his collarbone. 

“Never do that again,” she whispered, a command and a plea all in one.

Jay was the last, sniffling loudly as he completed the circle, his arms finding a place between Kai and Zane. 

“Group hug,” he announced wetly, his voice trembling with the force of his tears. “The best kind of hug. For emergencies. Like your-best-friend-is-a-zombie emergencies.”

Cole stood frozen within the circle of their arms, this living, breathing, weeping monument to everything he’d thought he’d lost. He could feel the warmth of them seeping into the cold shell of his body, the vibration of their quiet sobs, the solid, real weight of their love. 

A pressure built behind his eyes, a desperate, aching need to release the torrent of relief and guilt and love inside him. He tried to let it go, to let the tears fall.

Nothing happened.

His body remained a traitor, a hollow vessel that could not perform the most basic human response to overwhelming emotion. 

A dry, ragged sob rattled in his chest, a horrible, empty sound.

“I can’t,” he choked out, the words a confession of a new, profound failure. “I can’t even cry.”

Jay, whose face was already wet with tears, squeezed him tighter. 

“That’s okay, buddy,” he said, his voice breaking off with a hiccupping laugh. “Don’t you worry about it. We’ve got enough tears for all of us. We’ll cry for you.”

And they did. They held their broken, un-bleeding, un-crying brother in the middle of his dark room, and they wept for him. They wept for the fall, for the secret, for the lies, and for the terrifying, uncertain future. They wept until the silence was no longer heavy, but shared. 

And, for the first time in weeks, Cole didn’t feel alone.

It wasn’t a solution. It didn’t fix his shattered ribs or his still heart. But it was a start. 

A long, painful road to some new, unimaginable normal finally began.