NOTE: You guys should go read my best friend Ivy's Ninjago fanfic, called "Open Your Eyes"! I helped her write the chapter during free period yesterday (Sadly, she had no clue how to properly combine sentences) so with my coaching, she's going to dish out a R&J type fanfic. I actually think it's a really good one! (other than the fact that I practically WROTE the first chapter….) ;D
This chapter is kind of a little sad. I know. Sorry for the long wait, you guys, but here it is!
THE KINGDOM OF DEATH
3. Rewriting the Wrongs
"NO, NO, NO, you're doing it all wrong," Cole dropped his padded hands. They fell to his side uselessly. The thick, heavy makeshift mattress padding served as hand dummies since real pads didn't seem to exist in a nindroid's world. "You have to do more than just HIT it, Caroline, you have to actually punch it, as hard as you can. Otherwise all you're doing is making your opponent laugh at you."
Caroline dropped her defensive stance. Through the window crawled the early sunrise, landing in rectangles across his skin. Since Dani banished him from Nya's little conference in the infirmary, Cole had made a decision to help Sensei Wu begin training Caroline for the day, bringing her closer and closer to means of becoming an actual ninja. So far, with Wu standing over their discussion with a cautious, observant eye, Caroline was pretty much failing at something so simple as mere hand-to-hand combat.
She tugged uncomfortably at her shorts. Her long hair was pulled away from her face in a light ponytail, but her bangs and other various strands of random hair escaped from the clutches of her hair band. She pushed it away from her face irritably. "Well, I don't want to HURT you," Caroline protested. Her hands flew into the air to land back at her side.
Cole rolled his eyes. "You're not going to hurt me," he said, "I'm the ninja of earth. Hard as a rock. See?" He tapped on his arm. "Now, come on. Zane didn't give you these powers for nothing. Hit me with all you got."
"Cole is right," Sensei said wisely. He held out his staff to poke Caroline in the stomach. "You must harness your inner powers. You underestimate your abilities, Caroline; you must find your strength."
"I have strength," Caroline grumbled, but lifted her fists again into a defensive position. Cole crouched to give her more of an advantage. She was a little shorter than he was; having to aim your punches upwards when hitting straight was even a challenge didn't count fairly. Cole nodded, signaling her to begin.
Caroline took a deep breath. Then, with a cry, she punched hard into Cole's padded palm, giving him a jolt. He smiled at the slight tingle in his skin from the force of her blow. So maybe it could hurt, after all.
"Good," Cole complimented. "You just gotta hit repeatedly, otherwise you're giving your opponent the time to recover. We don't want that." He held out his hands again. "Go."
Caroline sighed, though she complied, using her fist to punch hard into the mattress squares (Cole had ripped up an old mattress to make a much-needed pair of punching dummies.) Proudly, Cole felt himself sliding back a little further each time, moving closer and closer to the wall. Caroline beat away at his hands, punching into them with more force than before, beating away her troubles with a swift kick with her knee. Cole made a noise of approval in the back of his throat.
"You must be light on your feet," Sensei advised, moving around them in a small arc to observe Caroline's attacks at better angles. "And use your head rather than your might."
"What?" Caroline said, sounding slightly breathless. She punched Cole's hand harder. "You want me to hit him with my HEAD?"
Cole rolled his eyes. "Use your brain," he offered, meeting Caroline's hazel gaze. She sighed into the air a breath of defeat.
"How?" she asked. "What does that mean?"
Sensei gave Cole a familiar look, an approving, sly glance Caroline didn't see. As she took a step back to brush her hair from her face, Cole used his combined speed and agility to toss aside the hand pads to grab Caroline into a backwards headlock. She gave a startled gasp. Her hands closed around his forearm, digging in her nails to his skin, a defense Cole didn't feel. He heard the soft squishing, cracking combination of a sound as his vampiric transition took place. Sensei didn't blink, but Cole felt ashamed, as though he'd somehow let the old man down. He should've at least told Sensei—in life—that he was a vampire. It would've been the right thing to do. But Cole had been scared that no one would quite understand him if they knew what a monster he'd become.
His fangs prodded his lower lip. Caroline struggled within his grasp. "You can't let your guard down," Cole advised through his fangs. "I could've killed you instantly. As would any other opponent. No one is going to wait for you, Care. You have to think as well as fight."
He released her from his grasp. She whirled to face him, though catching sight of his transformed face gave her a start. Usually that was the kind of reaction he got. It didn't really affect him anymore, but he still felt that mental wince inside of him flicker; everyone found his snow white skin—compared to the previous olive tone it had before—a culture shock. That wasn't even mentioning his eyes. Cole had come to a simple conclusion that his silver irises always made people jump. It was hard not to. They weren't very subtle, if you asked him. They even glowed in the dark.
"Remember to think," he reminded her. Then, he lunged.
Caroline jumped aside with an extremely girly squeal. There was the soft rush of air with his heightened vampiric movements, until Caroline actually took action. Her palm caught the side of his face in a cold, raw slap that stung his skin even after it happened. Cole found his footing in a swift land multiple feet from where she stood, rubbing at his face.
And within him tumbled an extremely humiliated feeling. Not because Caroline had smacked him a good one. But because when he'd leapt for her, after she'd hit him, he'd had to refrain from attacking her back.
Primarily he could've argued it was instinct. After all, predators acted to defend themselves, right? Cole didn't seem to grasp securely that thought, all the same. He was still mortified with himself for actually wanting to attack. He'd been the one to let his guard down, let that destructive drive take over his body. Cole didn't want to think of the long term effect that could've taken place had he actually whirled to sink his teeth into her out of annoyance. He pinched his nose to regain control.
He wasn't a monster. That much Cole forced himself to believe. Despite everything, Cole needed to believe that. If he doubted himself for one second, he would find himself doing exactly what he'd just done now. And next time he may not have been there mentally to stop himself from destroying what there was.
The witch who'd given Cole his resurrecting potion had warned him. She hadn't liked the idea that he was a vampire, however unwillingly. Witches—or "herb peoples"—didn't bode well with the creatures of the damned, yet let them control their publics for a supernaturally hidden reason. Somehow, she'd managed to put aside all hatreds for him and actually help him, because the witch he'd turned to, Illyana, believed there was still good in him. It was never Cole's choice to be a vampire. She wanted to protect him with knowledge rather than spells. She told Cole multiple times over the course of their exchange—what she wanted for what he wanted, in this case the potion—that vampires were controlled by emotions. They were slaves to what they felt. Their feelings were what moved them through because everything vampires could feel was heightened from its original capacity. Anger became rage; affections became love; dislike became anger. There was a very fine line between free will and instinct when you were a vampire. You were dominated by a pre-established condition that settled into your brain once you were officially dead. There was no choice unless your willpower burned brighter than the rules did.
How many times had Cole struggled with this? It was hard to defeat his emotions. Usually he wasn't so emotional, but now he might as well have been a walking book for everyone to read. He omitted his feelings too easily now; he was still working the kinks out of it. It had been seven years and he was still trying to figure this out.
He then felt guilty. What had once been small fault was now full blown guilt. He poured over imperfections. Like, for instance, his foolish choice to begin turning Nya into a vampire with him.
She wasn't completely a vampire yet. He'd have to exchange blood with her a couple more times for her to fully die and change from the overtake of his immortal blood cells clashing with her human ones. Her heart would overwhelm, her brain would shut down, her body would cease to work—but within a few couple hours she'd reawaken into a newer, more improved version of herself. She'd feed solely from blood, suffer through this godforsaken channel of never-ending magnified emotions. She would never reach true humanity again. She would lose herself. Nya wouldn't be Nya, instead this monster that looked, sounded, moved like her, but would never be her. Cole had rushed into it because the thought of being alone forever had nearly killed him. Never aging, never growing, never becoming anything more than what he was. He'd be a walking history textbook, and that was it. To be honest, Cole had been scared. So he'd hurried into it. Now he was paying for it by finally realizing that if he let Nya complete the transition, she would never be herself again, and what life vampires lived wasn't a life he'd ever let anyone have. It wasn't worth it. And he knew that what she was feeling as he changed her was not entirely realistic, either. Her emotions were becoming heightened, as his had. And it meant plenty of things he didn't want to even think were possible, yet knew they were in the back of his mind, and thinking them broke his heart every time.
Cole was a friend. A friend who was there when needed. A friend who had offered his assistance to her when she needed somebody to hold her, needed somebody to tell her that everything would be fine when it seemed like it wouldn't. As their relationship grew stronger, Nya must've been feeling more and more for him, must've somehow been developing affections. He thought about his stupidity when knowing it was wrong to kiss your friend's girlfriend, yet his stubbornness telling him he didn't care. That wasn't true, of course. He did care. It's just, when it came to Nya, Cole had known that he was in love with her and wanted to share some kind of special moment that he could carry with him, because he would last forever, and…well, she wouldn't.
The bittersweet feeling of his first kiss engulfed him in beautiful flames. His heartbeat quickened at the taste of her lips against his. Cole had longed for that moment for so long. A year had gone by, too long to keep a secret for someone as impatient as himself. He found he was good at sitting still, good at waiting. It was just, when time began to wear on your shoulders the way it did to Cole, there was no way he could sit around and let it eat away at him forever.
Nya had cared about him, before he'd ever told her about his vampirism. She'd told him she cared. She told him that she cared if he got hurt or not. Then he had to go make a stupid mistake like giving her a huge kiss on the lips. If he hadn't done that, think of how much differently he could've been living now, the difference in life. He knew it wouldn't hurt as much to walk into the infirmary to try and sort things out with the brokenhearted ex-boyfriend, because he never would've had to experience such a painful situation. Then the kiss lead to Nya interpreting her caring and measly affections for love, something that you just don't want to mix up because if can end very badly. Cole had been too twitterpated to look past what lingered in front of him: Nya did not love him. Nya cared about him. And that was where he'd gone wrong. The kisses had led to sex, and sex had led to pregnancy, which led to the other boyfriend becoming the ex-boyfriend, and this whole love triangle thing that Cole found horrendously overdramatic.
Oh, he loved Nya, more than anything he'd ever been able to love. He loved being in the same room with her, loved the feel of her hands, of her heart beating against his, of her laughter echoing throughout her throat. He loved the feeling of her cool fingertips caressing his cheek. He loved the feeling of her mouth pressed against his jugular. He loved the feeling of his heart rushing through his chest when he was able to wrap his arms around her waist and hold her without feeling bad that he got to hold her for once, which he did not have to let go so soon. He loved knowing she was asleep beside him, and as long as she was there, she would be safely protected from anything. Cole knew deep in his heart that he would crawl on broken glass to save Nya from whatever threatened. Yeah. Crawl on broken glass and come back bleeding. That's how he knew he was in love with her.
But she wasn't in love with him.
Nya had cared. But when he began to turn her, her emotions amplified. Magnified. They became bigger than what they actually were; Cole could never stress how much your emotions soared after you became a vampire. Her caring became so enlarged she believed that it had become love. Cole had known from the beginning that it was just as he suspected. After all, it matched everything that the witch had warned him of, turning his fantasy into a nightmare. Cole had strung along the relationship in hopes that he could ignore the tragedy of what he'd done to her, but no one can look at the person they love most and ignore the pain they feel inside, knowing they've caused similar calamity to the other. Nya still loved Jay, in the end, if he could erase the vampirism he'd given her. And Cole knew just what he'd have to do.
He had to let her go.
It would be so hard. Now that he finally had her, why not take her and run? This part of him, this greedy part, wanted to snatch her up and steal her far from where they stood now. The other part of him—the part that was still somewhat compassionate—knew that if he did so, he would've just ruined completely one of the most beautiful relationships ever created. The chances now seemed small, but Cole knew if he could get Jay to listen, there would pour through the realization that the love he once had was able to reconcile. Cole would stop exchanging blood with Nya. Slowly, the vampire blood would evaporate from her system, be killed off, lost, whatever—and she would return back to human, piece by piece at a time, her emotions becoming real again, and all normality would be restored back to the people he'd so selfishly ruined.
And in the process, he'd also have to do something so completely painful it would most likely rip him to pieces having to do it. Her vampirism would fade under the haze Cole would bestow her. And soon…
That wasn't all he had to say, either. They believed this baby belonged to Cole, believed the organism growing inside of her plump belly was a result of Cole's doing. But this was wrong. He'd known it all along, yet had been too afraid to say aloud. Now it rung like a jagged note across the cracked surface of his skull.
Nya was pregnant before she had slept with Cole.
Call it a sixth sense, if you want. But Cole had smelled it on her skin that whole night, tasted it, felt it. His vampirism forced him to become hyperaware of these things. Nya dripped maternal senses off her body like raindrops poured from leaves after a storm. This, too, was something that Jay needed to know, needed to hear. Hopefully he would experience belief under the knowledge that Cole could feel these things as he could feel his own skin. If Cole could pray now he'd use every last ounce of his holy heart to ask God for a fund to help him right the wrongs he'd created out of sin.
It hurt to think about. It made it hard for him to breathe. But from the circumstance that Cole was recovering from a very prophetic slap in the face, his decisions were made, his choices final. It was because Cole loved Nya that he could have the strength to set her free.
Sensei Wu had always had a good intellect of knowing the unsaid. From Cole's silence he must've felt the shock of understanding Caroline's palm had given him. They met eyes across the room, and the old man gave him a slow, apologetic blink. There were words behind this action, words that Cole grabbed from the air to read. Your devotion and loyalty leads to bravery. That bravery leads to great sacrifice. And this sacrifice creates trust in the true power of love.
Sensei's words floated through his ears, though the old man never spoke them. He found himself slowly swimming into focus with Caroline's hands to his shoulders. She shook him with her voice leisurely moving into his eardrums to be comprehended. "Cole! I didn't mean to hit you! It was just a reaction, I didn't necessarily mean to, you know, smack you across the face—Oh, Cole, I—"
Cole's hand slid over her mouth. "Caroline," he breathed, staring hard into her wide eyes. He felt his body sagging with the heft of defeat. "Shut up."
Caroline smiled beneath his hand. She didn't say another word.
Cole made to pick up the torn mattress pieces, but Sensei's hand curled over the crook of his shoulder, pulling him back up. He met the old teacher's blue eyes with a half lidded glance, and that became all the answer Sensei needed. He squeezed his students' shoulder softly. "Go," he said tenderly. "I will finish here."
Cole blinked. He didn't know how to breathe in order to speak, so he nodded, leaving Caroline to ask questions about his departure. He was completely worried, unsure of how he'd handle this. How Sensei could've known just what he was thinking. Was Cole really such a bad projector that his mind casually extended his thoughts for everyone, or was Sensei just becoming keener? It took him a minute to realize that duh, Sensei was being keen, because he was gifted with the sixth sense as the confirmation of being a nindroid. Cole slowly padded down the hallway towards the infirmary. He could hear the voices of every boat member there was, but he used his pinpointing abilities to focus on what was being said in the hospice.
"…can't we at least get Cole?" asked Nya. "I don't feel comfortable doing this without his consent…"
"Oh, you're fine!" said the confident voice of Dani, the witch. "Look on the bright side, you can always come to him with great news. I mean, you get to find out if it's a boy or a girl!"
Cole felt numb approaching the doorway, pausing in front of it with his hand poised to knock. Jay's breathing was quiet, soft, a tone that could've been mistaken as actual sleeping, except Cole knew better that his friend would most likely be listening in pretend sleep. He didn't know if he wanted to ruin this beautiful moment for Nya. But then he grasped that this was not to ruin Nya's life. This was to rewrite all the wrongs he'd done.
He pushed through the door with a heavy heart. Nya's head turned to the side to catch sight of him, and with it came the light dawning on her face, a light that he'd never be able to see again once he was finished with her. Cole felt tears curl in his eyes at the thought, but it wasn't manly to cry, and it sure as hell wasn't his right to, after what he'd done. She gave him a happy smile, sprawled across the cot next to Jay's, whose head turned opposite him. The stack of pillows behind her back provided the proper uplifting she needed to sit at an angle with her belly resting under the gentle curve of her stomach. The sterile white sheets beneath her barely crinkled underneath her weight, they bode so stiffly. Dani stood at her bedside with her hands poised to her wide hips.
"I told you to stay out!" she gasped.
Cole barely glanced at her. "This is important," he said numbly, without vocal expression. "I need to talk to Nya."
At this, Nya's smile faded into an indistinct frown of concern. The excitement from her face vanished. "Cole?" she asked quietly. She watched his expression tentatively. "What's wrong?"
Dani sidestepped for him, taking into consideration this time that he had business to do. Her long blonde ponytail swished behind her when she moved. A golden ribbon, he thought, and gave her an actual smile. The witch's brows rose in surprise. "Give us a minute," he commanded, and Dani left with an odd backwards glance. The door shut quietly behind her.
With every fiber of his being aching, Cole sat on the bed next to Nya's feet, looking deep into her eyes at the disquiet she wore. He looked at her beautiful black lashes, her pretty pink lips. He took her hand into his with a tight, short squeeze. "Cole?" she repeated uneasily. "What's the matter, honey?" she leaned forward to better hold onto him. Cole traced the mountain range of her knuckles for a spare few seconds, relishing these moments. They continued short lived.
Cole took in a deep, painful breath. "I haven't been very fair to you," he began. It choked up his words to have to say them. He had to force them out his throat. "Actually, I've been an asshole. Doing what I've done…It's not right, Nya." He raised his eyes from her pretty hands to her even more beautiful face. Her fingers curled around his. She looked clueless—and that was fine. She'd understand after a few more sentences.
"What isn't?" she asked. She reached out her palm to cup his cheek. "Cole, what's wrong, sweetie?"
Cole held back his tears. He wasn't going to cry. "I've ruined your life—and Jay's. I came in and thought I could just do it and have you so easily. But that's not even close to being the case. Truth is…I don't deserve a happy ending." He looked at the floor. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jay stir in interest. Nya opened her mouth to reject every word he was saying, but he continued over her. "I unrightfully took you from him. I had no right."
"You didn't 'take me,' Cole," Nya clutched his hand tightly, forcing him to look her in the eye. Her gaze was hard. "I'm not a toy children fight over."
Cole gave a humorless smirk. "No," he whispered. Then his octaves rose. "I did take you. When I began to turn you…Your emotions…they aren't what you think they are," he said. "Everything you think you feel is fake. It's not real, Nya. They amplified into something way bigger than they actually are. You care about me, Nya," Cole squeezed her hand to get her attention. She was quickly shaking her head to avoid having to listen, but he forged on, clasping his hands over hers. "But you don't love me. You just think you do. And I can't sit here anymore and let myself feel guilty about the fact that I know I've taken you from Jay unrightfully. If I could drain all the vampire blood from your system right now, you'd return back to normal. You wouldn't feel as you think you do right now. But that would take weeks. Months. Hell, maybe even a year. And I don't want to feel that pain for so long."
Truthfully, doing any of this would only worsen the ache, but Cole needed her to go knowing that he would be happier knowing that she was happier. That's all he needed from her was the reassurance that there was every better choice for her in her life. And Cole was far from being the right one. She wasn't stopping the furrow of her brows or the look of consternation on her face. She wasn't fighting the grimace of arguing tears from her expression. Nya shook her head again. "No Cole, don't do this—"
"This baby isn't mine," he announced. That was when Jay joined the audience. Cole didn't turn to see his reaction, instead focusing on Nya's face. Bewildered, she continued to move her head in negation, but it was slowing. And that was painfully, heartwrenchingly, sickeningly good. "You know it as much as I do, you just don't want to admit it." His voice became more urgent. "You've known from the beginning you were pregnant before I slept with you. You know that it's Jay's baby. You know."
Jay pushed himself slowly into a minor sitting position. His aura dispensed misperception, yet a slight hint of hope hit Cole hard in the face. He tried not to wince. Nya didn't shake her head anymore, but hung it shamefully, because she, too, knew like he did.
"Of course I know," she snapped, angry. "Why wouldn't I? It's growing in me."
Cole nodded. "Then you see how pointless it is for me to continue here, right?"
Nya grabbed him roughly. "Cole Mitsuhide," she growled, "you are not going to just leave me—"
But Cole pushed her back gently. Every passing second was killing him. "I'm not leaving you," he whispered. To her wet face, Cole reached forward with his hands, cupping her cheeks so softly he relished it. This was the very last time he'd hold her like this. This was the last time he'd be given the chance to hold Nya—and he cherished it in every stroke of his fingertips. "I'm not leaving you," he repeated quietly. Her face softened at the sentence, but he wasn't done to leave her with a warm heart. "I'm just letting you go."
Her desperation replaced the relief she'd previously felt. "No, Cole, I won't let you," she hissed furiously. "You're not going to push me away like you do everyone else. You can't—we can't—I love you," she admitted. It hurt so bad. Cole shook his head.
"No, Nya," he whispered. "You don't."
He stared long, hard, and deep into her eyes, focusing through the threatening downpour of his own tears at the sight of hers. Cole felt like someone was punching him in the chest, leaving him with an empty hole to be filled by nothing but air. It hurt him so much to have to do this. He was being stabbed repeatedly by stakes dipped in white ash, but he knew this had to be done. Pushing on was all there was left for him to do. He stroked her cheekbones with his thumbs. His shaky breath could barely pull him through the words he didn't want to say.
Nya's eyes were glassy under his captivating, steely gaze. He ignored all outside noises and focused his energy on her. Her face, her thought, her sound. And every word he spoke…
…He believed them. That is how it works.
"You are going to forget I ever loved you," he said to Nya, fighting sorrow. He watched her become impassive under his power. "You're going to forget that I ever kissed you. You're going to forget everything that has ever happened between you and me—and you're going to forget that I'm a vampire. You'll move on with Jay. You'll become—" Cole swallowed, trying so hard to keep his cracking voice in check, "—the most amazing mother there ever was. All your sorrows will be doused by Jay. You never left him, and he never left you. The vampire blood will drain from your system, and you will just…you'll forget." Nya's eyes glassed over with emotionless cataracts. Her eyelids fell to a gentle close as Cole's vampiric compulsion worked its magic on her mind. When Nya woke, she would never remember any of the things he told her to forget; her mind would erase of everything there had ever been of his love. Cole felt it all in his stomach. It could've killed him as he set her back against the pillows, watching her cluelessly fall into a deep sleep without ever being able to remember him. He dropped a final, gentle parting kiss to her forehead. I love you, he thought quietly.
His audience of one burst into emotion. "What the hell are you doing?!" Jay exploded. "What the hell did you just do?!"
Cole turned his gaze on Jay. "Fixing it," he murmured. He was too weak to say much more. Compelling people with his mind control used more energy than any other skill he supernaturally gained.
"Why?!" Jay looked incredulous. Horrified, he glanced between Cole and Nya, unsure of what else to say. Cole gave a bitter, short laugh.
"I'm a monster," he said humorlessly. "I don't deserve a happy ending. But you do." He didn't wait for Jay to throw out any other comments of revelation. He focused the remains of his power onto Jay, bearing his eyes deep into the blue ninja's gaze, drilling holes into him to excavate out the memories he wanted to steal. He tried his hardest to concentrate. "You are going to forget about everything that has happened between me and Nya. You're going to move on with your life—and the love that you still feel for Nya will be bigger and better than ever before. You're going to treat her like you've got the whole world in your hands, with love and respect and this baby? You're going to love it like you've never loved before. You're going to be everything Nya ever needs. You're going to come when she calls, going to visit her at work when she asks you if you want to have a lunch date. You're going to be proud of her when she makes an accomplishment. You are going to protect her with every piece of you, no matter what it takes, just to make sure she's safe. You're never going to let anything happen to her. And damnit, Jay"—he said to the blank expression of his compelled friend—"you are going to love her. This is a woman of true, pure, real emotion, and she needs to be treated with care. Be gentle. Be loving. Be...be everything that I can't."
Jay fell to his sleep carefully, but his mind remained at ease as his power took shape. Cole heaved under the stress of power loss. It was almost too hard to bear, but he was tougher than the average vampire. He still had enough strength in him to lift Nya from her small cot to place her in the crook of Jay's arm, nestled close beside him. In a movement of sleep, she wrapped her arm around Jay's waist, bringing her body closer to his; Cole felt his heart break. He felt accomplished knowing he'd succeeded in what he'd set out to do. He had brought together a reality much deserved, and for that he knew he was the luckiest man in the world, because he'd brought together two human beings who couldn't ever love each other more. He left them there with his heart in their hands, yet Cole felt happy, because he knew that Nya and Jay were happy. And as long as they had that, he would be eternally grateful.
When they fell asleep, they only knew that Nya had curled beside the man she loved and held his hand to nurse him back to good health. And when they woke, through their haze of drowsiness, they'd be given the opportunity to barely even remember that Cole had ever existed.
And that, he decided, made him...happy.
