#skylor and cole both feeling like their worlds are falling apart.... ough augh the friction between them is DELICIOUS

[razzle-zazzle]

Whumptober Day 03: Set Up For Failure

Wrongfully arrested accused + "I warned you"

2587 Words; Betrothal AU

TW for injury, a dubiously consensual kiss

AO3 ver

Cole grimaced.

The distant sounds of a crowd filtered in through the bars of the arena door. He kicked the punching bag before him for lack of anything better to do, only to immediately feel weird—Chen had put a picture of Jay’s face on it. Because of course he did.

None of the others had come to visit him before the fight—but if he peered across the arena, he could make out a splash of red and green on Jay’s end: Kai and Lloyd. Cole sighed. He supposed he deserved it—he should have told them. Should have pulled them all aside and showed them the pendant and let them know, on his terms. Instead, he’d kept it close to his chest because—because what? He was embarrassed? He didn’t know how to broach the subject? He thought he could hide it away forever?

“Stupid.” Cole muttered. And now look where not talking had gotten him: the tattoo on his back revealed, and none of the others talking to him. He certainly hadn’t helped their impressions of him by refusing to show it, either. And Chen’s timing on announcing the fight—which was supposed to be scheduled for later, dammit Chen—definitely hadn’t helped. He wondered if Skylor had snitched, or if Chen had had cameras or something in the bunks. The latter seemed more likely.

And now Cole was slated to fight Jay, when they were still so raw from the perfect match debacle—and with the reveal of the tattoo fresh, and all of his friends thinking he was the spy. Cole almost had to hand it for Chen—the man knew how to play other people to his advantage.

Towards the other side of the arena, Kai and Lloyd were leaving. Cole wished he knew what they had said to Jay. He wished one of them had come to his end, so he could at least try to explain—even if the thought of talking about the pendant hidden under his gi made him want to vomit.

The bars disappeared down into the earth with a groan. Chen was speaking as Cole put up his mask, voice amplified by the speakers, announcing Jay and Cole’s elements—

Too late! Cole launched out of his corner and into the open arena to dodge the blast of lightning Jay sent his way. Jay shrieked, another bolt cutting the air—Cole pulled up a wall of dirt from beneath the sandy arena floor, dodging to the side in one fluid motion.

Cole didn’t want to fight his friend. He wanted to punch Jay in the face. He wanted this fight to be done with so they could talk. He wanted off of this island, and away from Chen and marriages and betrayals and broken hearts. He wanted to see Zane again.

“No wonder you turned traitor!” Jay shrieked, lunging forwards. “Since you’re the least valuable ninja!”

Cole really wanted to punch Jay in the face.

“Do you have to overreact to everything?!” Cole demanded, pulling rocks up from the ground and launching them—not quite at Jay, but close enough to break his concentration and force him to dodge. “I don’t want to fight you!” He did, but not like this. Not with a crowd watching their every move and the tension turned up by the madman currently narrating their fight like a sports match. Not like this. Never like this.

“That tattoo on your back says otherwise!” Jay shrieked, lightning arcing off his hands. Cole launched a final rock, and it exploded into dust as Jay blasted it.

Oh, Jay wanted a fight? Cole would give him a fight. “Eat dirt, Bluebell!” He didn’t aim just off of Jay, this time—Jay blasted three rocks and dodged away from the last two. He had always been too quick for Cole to really nail down. It was what made them equal matches, despite Cole’s strength.

The crowd melted away in Cole’s perception, until it was just him and Jay and the arena between them. Adrenaline and anger blasted through his body, the pendant’s weight forgotten in the heat and sweat of the moment. The air smelled like dust and ozone. Cole kicked out, sending a whole wash of sand directly at Jay.

Jay exploded, lighting blasting everything around him as he shrieked, turning patches of sand into glass. Completely unworkable for Cole, who growled, launching himself forwards and tackling Jay to the sand. He got a fist to the face for his troubles, and he pinned Jay’s head to the sand with a hand on his face.

“Mrmph!” Jay yelled, then licked Cole’s hand. When that didn’t work, he grabbed Cole’s shoulders and—PAIN! Cole hollered as he-didn’t-fucking-know-how-many volts coursed through him, and Jay shoved him off to the side.

Cole twitched, waiting for feeling to return to his limbs, and Jay stood. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” He scoffed. “That’s what your betrayal feels li—”

Jay flew backwards with a grrk from the force of Cole’s uppercut. Cole was quick to press the advantage, rushing up despite the twinge all up and down his body—dammit, what did Jay shoot him up with, a whole lightning storm?—dirt and rock building around his fists in anticipation of the lightning Jay was going to shoot his way any minute now—

No lightning. Cole paused, really looking at Jay for the first time since the fight was announced that morning. He was rubbing gingerly at his jaw—shit, Cole hadn’t held back on that punch, had he?—hair frizzing up from the overuse of electricity. He didn’t look like an enemy. He looked like a friend. Obnoxious and annoying, but still—a friend.

“What are we doing?” Cole asked quietly. “I don’t want to fight you.” He lowered his hands. “You’re not my enemy.” He glanced up at the stands, at the sea of cultists and the splashes of red, green, and orange amongst the competitors, and then up at Chen, and scowled. “Chen is.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Jay hissed, scooting away as he stood. “You wouldn’t have that tattoo on your back if you weren’t—!” He cut himself off, lightning crackling between his fingertips.

“I’m sorry.” Cole said.

Jay paused. “What?”

“I’m sorry.” Cole repeated. “I never meant to hurt you, when we were fighting over Nya. If I knew it would destroy our friendship, I’d take it all back.” The pendant’s weight was a constant against his chest. The air smelled like dust, sweat, and ozone. The audience was… not quite cheering, but plenty of them were still jeering for violence.

“Well,” Jay started, “If we’re being honest, I was upset about losing Nya—but I take blame for that!—and I was more upset about losing you.”

Cole’s chest tightened, his heart lurching.

“We used to be good friends!” Jay continued.

“The best, right?” Cole replied. “We should have been honest with each other, instead of bottling it all up.” He should have been honest. Cole let the dirt and rocks fall away from his hands, reaching up to grab at the chain of his pendant and reveal it—

“You say that, but,” Jay started, and Cole froze, “why do you have an anacondrai tattoo on your back, Cole?” It wasn’t quite an accusation, but Cole felt judged all the same.

Cole grimaced, glancing away. He opened his mouth—though what he was going to say, he didn’t know—

“Is it Zane?” Jay asked, expression suddenly so soft that Cole could barely stand it. “Did Chen promise you’d get to see him alive again, if you joined his cult?” There was something pleading in his eyes, like he wanted Cole to say yes.

Cole grimaced. “I wish.” He muttered. Wouldn’t that be so noble of him? To have sold his soul to Chen just for the chance to see Zane again—instead of the reality of the pendant tucked beneath his gi.

“Then why?” Oh, Cole did not like the hurt in Jay’s voice. The betrayal in the others’—in his family’s—eyes when they’d seen the tattoo hurt. He never meant for things to go like this. He’d thought it could all blow over, that he and Skylor could figure something out—

Fuck it. Cole reached beneath his collar and grabbed the pendant, yanking it out and letting it fall onto his chest. It gleamed in the arena lights, the shape too distinctive to be anything other than half of a yin-yang pendant. 

Jay’s eyes widened. “Is that—” His hands hung at his sides, now—the fight was over at this point. Even if Chen was starting to get bored, he hadn’t said or done anything, and Cole didn’t think he could do anything to start the fight anew. Not with the pendant and its burden finally out in the open.

“It was arranged before either of us were born.” Cole spat, needing to get the words out as soon as possible. “I got that tattoo years ago, Jay—I don’t like Chen at all.” He was rambling, now, the mumbling of the crowd a distant sensation, unimportant in the face of the words spilling past his lips in a rush. “Skylor and I have a plan, maybe, I don’t actually know if I can trust her but she’s still my friend and I just want to see Zane, fuck, Zane—”

“Skylor?” Jay asked, “What’s she got to do with anything?”

Oh, yeah. Cole probably should have mentioned that. “She’s Chen’s daughter—”

He didn’t get another step closer before rock exploded from the ground in front of Jay, smacking him in the face. In the same breath, the whole arena trembled, and Cole stumbled back. He barely managed to stay on his feet instead of falling on his ass, his arms swinging out—

Something hard and heavy hit him on the head, and he finally fell on his ass, clutching at his head as he groaned.

Jay lay still where he had been knocked flat, the only movement the rise and fall of his chest.

“Wh—” Cole glanced at shimmery green at his side—the Jade Blade! It had fallen from its place on the pillar.

Cole—he didn’t—he hadn’t done that. Cole did not call upon the earth to—to hit Jay. That wasn’t—he didn’t—that wasn’t him—

“WINNER!” Chen declared, “MASTER OF EARTH MOVES ON!”

Cole looked up at the audience. Green, Red, and the green and white of Garmadon’s robes, all their expressions unreadable. And only a few paces away from them, a blot of orange amongst the crowd.

Cole’s eyes widened in understanding. He scowled, glaring up at Skylor and then Chen as Jay disappeared down into a sudden hole. Fuck. Fuck this. Fuck all of this, this farce of a tournament—

He spared the other ninja only a single glance before running for the exit, pendant thumping against his chest. If he remembered right, there was a tunnel entrance—there! Behind the punching bag. He needed to—he didn’t know. He didn’t know. This wasn’t supposed to happen—he didn’t DO THAT! That—the earth attacking Jay, just as they were starting to make up—that wasn’t him!

Cole ran through the tunnels for what felt like forever and no time at all, pendant swinging free the entire time. He ran until his chest burned, throat tight as his eyes pricked with frustrated tears. He ran through tunnels he only half-recognized from faded memories, not caring if he got lost, just that he got away—

“Cole.” And there was Skylor, standing directly in his way, hand on the wall as she stared at him. Cole froze, hands clenching and unclenching. Skylor nodded to her right, and ducked into an alcove. Cole followed her, his chest a rush of anger-fear-disappointment-worry-fear-fear-FEAR.

“You.” He breathed, suddenly very angry. “Skylor, what the hell.” Why would she—why did she have to—ugh, he couldn’t think.

“What else was I supposed to do?” Skylor asked, defensive. “My father wanted a fight!”

“So you interfere with ours?” Cole asked, “You could have hurt Jay!” She probably did, he realized—Jay most likely had a concussion, after getting knocked out via a rock to the face. “We could have figured it out!”

“No, you couldn’t.” Skylor grasped Cole’s hands in hers, her expression softening. “I’m sorry. I reacted. But it’s for the best, Cole.”

Cole ripped his hands away. “You got my best friend thrown down a hole, Sky.” He wasn’t even angry, anymore—not at Skylor, who still existed in his head and heart as the best friend from his childhood. If only Chen wasn’t so… Cole shook his head. This whole island sucked.

“And I kept you in the tournament.” Skylor argued. “Don’t try to tell me you wouldn’t have given the blade to him—I know you, Cole.”

“At least I wouldn’t have been concussed or worse!” Cole wanted off this island. He couldn’t leave until he found Zane. He wanted Zane off this island.

“And my father would have been pissed!” Skylor hissed. “Do you know how much harder he would have made it for everyone if you two actually made up? If I hadn’t made you look like—” She broke off, jaw working as she searched for the words. “It’s safer for everyone if my father thinks his plans are working. If he thinks you’re loyal to him.”

“I’m not.” Cole grunted. His face fell and he looked at Skylor, really looked at her. At the way she held herself, shoulders drawn back, hair starting to come loose from her ponytail, face bordering between sullen and carefully-hidden panic. “You shouldn’t be loyal to him, either.” He murmured, leaning forwards.

Skylor scoffed. “I wish.” She muttered, then froze as she realized what she just said. “It doesn’t matter. My father always gets what he wants. Always.” She shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s safer to just keep your head down and go along with it.”

Cole opened his mouth to speak when Skylor’s eyes widened. She surged forwards, one hand snaking around his waist while the other grabbed the back of Cole’s head. She dragged him back so that she was pressed between him and the wall, and then her lips were against his—

Cole grunted, arms hanging limply at his sides. He tried to pull away—he could hear footsteps. Her fingers tangled into his hair, and she made a sound that might be described as a moan. Cole repressed the urge to pull away, to step away from the heat of her body and the feel of her lips on his, pleasant to some deeper part of him but still so uncomfortable—

The footsteps receded with a pair of snickers—patrolling cultists. Cole and Skylor remained pressed together for a moment longer, Cole resting his hands against the wall as though he were boxing her in against it.

Eventually, they parted, Cole breathing deeply to try and quell the rising panic clawing at his chest.

“You’re my friend, Cole.” Skylor said, cupping his face in her hands. “My only friend.” Her expression hardened. “I’m going to get you through this safely, even if I have to throw your allies into the fire to do it.”

Cole pulled back, grabbing her hands in his own and pushing them away. “If you think I’m just going to stand by and let you,” He let go of her hands, and turned to leave, “then you don’t know me well enough to call me a friend.” He grabbed the pendant, and tucked it back under his shirt, once again hidden from prying eyes.

“And if you do that, I’m not sure I can call you a friend, either.”