#lloyd kinda knows that proto's not got those kinds of intentions

[razzle-zazzle]

Whumptober Day 31: Hurt & Comfort

Trauma

2174 Words; Second Chances AU

@anxiousworm >:D

Cole knew better than to get attached.

Maybe it wasn’t healthy, but it’d hurt less in the long run.

He’d look after this new Ninjago, keep it safe—

But he refused to get attached to the new ninja. To let these—these children anywhere near his heart. Refused to let them get close enough to hurt him, either through direct action or their own suffering.

He’d already done this whole song and dance with his ninja, already suffered losing them to the destruction of his realm. Already suffered through failing his Ninjago, and worse, failing his family.

And then he’d woken up in this new Ninjago, utterly alone in a realm full of familiar faces.

This was a second chance, he’d realized, a way to make up for his cowardice. He wasn’t going to waste it.

He also wasn’t going to get attached to the Wu of this realm, or to his students. Cole could ignore the dull pain in his chest whenever he looked at them—could ignore the way they looked so much like his family, could ignore the wrongness in how small and youthful and not his they were.

Could ignore the part of him that wanted so badly to mentor these children, to take them aside and walk them through how to wield a scythe or how to disarm a knife-thrower—could ignore the part of himself that wanted to get attached, for all that it would only hurt him in the long run.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t protect this realm, though.

He had to make it up to the others somehow.

First step: stop the Great Devourer from ever awakening. Was it possible to kill it in its sleep? Maybe, but Cole wanted to get rid of the Fang Blades first.

Which was easy enough—get in the volcano, grab the fangblade, get out. Then steal the other three from the Serpentine, who had been so kind as to gather them up for Cole—not that they knew that.

But then new Lloyd had pulled the same shit Cole’s Lloyd had, sneaking out into the desert and getting himself caught.

Cole wasn’t attached. He didn’t care about Lloyd personally.

He didn’t.

But it wasn’t fair to the kid to just leave him there, in the care of the realm’s Most Annoyingly Unkillable Anacondrai—nobody deserved that—so Cole looked for a good opportunity to free him.

Not because he cared, though, because he didn’t.

Not at all.

It was just a job, Cole decided, that just so happened to be rescuing someone who reminded him a lot of his baby brother.

He wasn’t attached.

And tonight, he’d prove it.

+=+=+=+=+

The Serpentine really weren’t that good at this whole security thing.

Or maybe Cole was too experienced for them. It was a little hard to tell.

But enough poking around Ouroboros brought him to the cage Lloyd—new Lloyd, Cole reminded himself—was currently stuck in.

His approach was quiet—so quiet, in fact, that the child didn’t even notice Cole until the cage door was torn off its hinges.

Lloyd stilled. “Who’re you?” He squinted in the darkness with vision better than most peoples’, backing a little further into his cage.

Cole didn’t reply. He just grunted, reaching in to grab at Lloyd and tucking the little brat under his arm. And “little brat” was the right description to use, because Lloyd was already kicking and squirming and making as much of a fuss as possible on the basis that at least the Serpentine weren’t going to hurt him too much, whereas the mystery man in the oni mask might.

Shit.

There were already a few constrictai heading this way, so Cole immediately took off in a run, doing his best to not drop Lloyd.

The little fucker sure could writhe, though.

Cole grunted as he scaled a wall—Lloyd almost wiggling loose—then continued his run towards the outer limits of the city.

Since nothing of great value had been stolen, the Serpentine sort of gave up on the chase once Cole was well past the city limits, not wanting to bother getting back a child that had quickly proved to be more trouble keeping around than it was worth.

Lloyd continued to squirm and kick and scream—Cole was pretty sure the kid had tried to bite him more than once—as Cole slowed down.

Probably because Cole wasn’t actually doing anything to stop him from being as difficult as possible. Which he could, but he didn’t need to because it wasn’t impeding him, it was just annoying.

Actually, it was grinding on his last nerve.

“Oh, fuck it,” Cole muttered, setting Lloyd down. “C’mon kid, I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice was pitched down slightly, a little rougher than it normally was.

Lloyd gave Cole a skeptical look through the tears. “And why should I believe that?” He asked through slowly quieting sobs, face still red from screaming.

“Because, you’re—” Wait, no this Lloyd didn’t know about the Green Ninja thing yet. Fuck.

Cole sighed, the urge to pinch his nose getting stronger by the second. “Look, kid, you just have to trust me on this.”

Yeah, no, Cole wouldn’t be convinced by that either. Big man in a black bodysuit with an oni mask? Definitely not the kind of figure a regular kid would trust.

Lloyd glared, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “Bullshit.”

Cole bristled. “Oh, for fuck’s sake—look, I can’t tell you everything, but—” He sighed, “You’re important, and it works out better for me if you’re nowhere near Pythor.”

The kid seemed to relax a bit at the revelation that doing this would benefit Cole. That might be concerning—

No. Cole was not concerned, because he wasn’t attached. He’d make sure the kid was alright and get him back to his uncle, then he’d be gone.

Because he didn’t care.

At all.

Obviously.

Lloyd frowned, though, some part of Cole’s explanation not making sense. “I’m not important.”

Yeah, no Cole wasn’t dealing with this.

Which would be great if his mouth actually listened to his brain.

“Everyone’s important in one way or another,” Cole murmured before he could stop himself as he started walking further out into the desert, Lloyd following behind so as to not get left behind. “Because everyone makes choices, and all those choices have consequences, and all of those consequences can affect other people.” Now Cole was rambling, which risked starting a conversation, which would get Cole attached when he wasn’t supposed to be—

“That’s stupid.” Lloyd opined, “because if everyone’s important, then no one is.”

Cole shrugged. “All life is important.” He pointed out. “Just because there are a million of the same kind of flower doesn’t make one particular flower not special. It’s alive, and unique, and even when it dies its energy goes back into the soil. That’s important.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—

“Yeah, well of course flowers are important.” Lloyd muttered, “They’re pretty and useful and they don’t mess up everything they’re asked to do.”

Cole had a feeling he wasn’t meant to hear that.

And he should really just shut his mouth. He’d made his point—it wasn’t his fault the kid wasn’t getting it. Could lead a horse to water and all that.

But something in his chest twinged, his heart overriding his brain for just long enough to make him snarl, “Don’t talk like that.”

Lloyd flinched at the harshness of Cole’s voice, but Cole wasn’t done.

“Whatever you’ve been led to believe, whatever lies have been put in your head—” He scoffed, “You are so much more important than you think, kid. Don’t let anyone tell you you’re not worth something.”

Lloyd frowned, wrapping his arms around and curling in on himself, hood falling over his face just a little bit more. “This is because of my father, isn’t it?” He asked, voice small.

Cole should really just shut up—

“No.” Cole stooped down, getting a little closer to the kid’s eye level. “No, it’s not, because you’re not Lord Garmadon.” His expression softened behind the mask, whole body turning traitor on this whole detachment plan, “You’re you, Lloyd.”

…Fuck.

Number One Rule of Not Getting Attached: don’t use names.

Cole was fucking this up spectacularly, wasn’t he?

The kid didn’t seem entirely convinced, but wasn’t trying to argue the point, so Cole snapped his mouth shut, stood up, and continued moving.

This was fine. This was salvageable—it had to be, because Cole couldn’t let himself get attached, not again, not after everything his Lloyd had gone through that this Lloyd definitely would.

Not after—

No, Cole wasn’t going to think about that.

He had a kid to lead out of the desert, after all.

A kid he wasn’t supposed to care about.

+=+=+=+=+

Cole had realized halfway through returning Lloyd to the Bounty—which he couldn’t actually remember where it would be at this point, dammit—that doing so might prevent this world’s Kai from unlocking his True Potential.

Which was entirely bad from a purely practical standpoint, not at all because Cole cared—because he didn’t—but because it would weaken the ninja.

Sure, they weren’t much to speak of now—but they would become great, hopefully by the time Cole was ready to retire.

(If he ever did. He might just protect this realm until his death, whenever that was.)

And Kai being allowed to steep in jealousy without realizing his True Potential would throw a wrench in that plan.

Fuck, how had his Kai discovered that, again?

Something about a volcano, and having to choose between Lloyd and a Fang Blade…

Well, Cole did have a Fang Blade on him, from the volcano.

“Change of plans, kid.”

The decision was easy.

Cole turned to Lloyd, who looked ready to bolt into the desert. “I need your help with something.”

It wasn’t like he was going to put the kid in too much danger.

Cole just had to create the illusion of danger.

Not that he actually cared—Cole just didn’t want to incur the wrath of Lord Garmadon. It was a fight he could win, but only barely.

Yeah.

Cole was making his decisions based on pure practicality, not from any misplaced attachment.

Because he wasn’t attached.

At all.

A small part of him didn’t believe that, though.

+=+=+=+=+

Days later, in a desperate race for the final Fang Blade, the ninja and the Serpentine arrived at the volcano.

Cole already had the blade in question, of course—and he also had Lloyd, who was obediently pretending to be a terrified captive, wrists loosely tied together and everything.

It went perfectly. Well-placed explosives caused enough rockfall to separate the ninja, and Cole further separated Kai from the group by baiting him with the Fang Blade.

He’d given Kai the choice, using his earth powers subtly enough to make it seem like the volcano was ready to erupt and drive everyone else out.

It went perfectly, up until the point Pythor ordered some constrictai to screw over the ninja by diverting the assumed lava flow towards them. That had in turn led the volcano to actually start erupting, spurring Garmadon into action to save his son.

Cole ran interference—ignoring the fear coiling in his gut like a bloated worm.

He was putting Kai in danger.

He was putting Kai in danger.

And for a moment Cole was no longer in that volcano, trading blows with Garmadon. For a moment he was back in his own realm, watching in horror as his blunder allowed Kai to be stabbed.

And then Garmadon scored a solid hit on Cole’s chest, snapping the man back to reality.

Fuck it.

True Potential or not, Cole was making sure these kids got out of this volcano alive.

Wu and the others had already left, Garmadon already beginning to back down—and clearly hating every second of it.

So Cole jumped back, twisting and leaping from ledge to ledge to get to where Kai was.

If he grabbed Kai under one arm, he could grab Lloyd with the other—

And then Kai lunged at Lloyd, wrapping his arms around him—

The volcano erupted.

Kai found his True Potential.

+=+=+=+=+

Cole lied in bed, staring at the cracked ceiling.

He didn’t care that Pythor had probably found the Fang Blade in the remains of the eruption, and that he’d have to steal it back along with the other three.

He didn’t care that he’d nearly been burned to a crisp were it not for a spinjitsu burst.

What Cole did care about, apparently, was the very people he swore he wouldn’t.

Cole groaned, covering his face with his hands. His mask remained motionless on the nightstand, staring at him blankly.

He’d fucked up.

He’d fucked up and gotten himself attached, gotten himself invested in the kids’ wellbeing—

He’d fucked up, and now everything in his body ached with the memory of his family.

“Oh god,” Cole groaned, throat tightening.

He was too tired to cry.

But that didn’t stop him from hurting.

Cole knew better than to get attached.

So how had he fucked this up so badly?