A/N: Judging by what I've seen of season 14/15 thus far, we are most definitely not getting this arc. That being said, I want it. For science purposes. And because this series will have to acknowledge Lloyd's abandonment issues sooner or later. And because I had this half-finished before the Island/Seabound aired and I am determined to post it.

'Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong,' Lloyd thinks blearily.

Between the clouded mist of dawn and the clammy, soaked air of the jungle, Misako's words ring out the clearest among his memories from years ago.

He'd just been freed from Morro's possession, tensions ran high around what he once called his father's monastery. With a bone-deep chill coursing through his body and no way to heat up, he dragged himself to the lounge in search of peace and found Kai instead.

'A heater's a heater,' he'd thought to himself and deliriously decided that the couch Kai occupied would be as good a place as any.

His older brother was a furnace, warmer than any bonfire, soft and comfortable like the home Lloyd never knew before he met his team, and if the several blankets he'd hijacked off Cole's and Nya's beds weren't going to fend off the aching chill, then Kai certainly would. He'd received a litany of teasing from Kai, as Lloyd seemed to be his favorite target for that kind of thing. But it didn't last long, rather it diminished into them nestled against each other, a silent promise from Kai to protect him, this time with no mistakes.

Of course, peace of any sort was short-lived with him. Misako visited them shortly after. With a hushed voice, she'd warned him that the worst was yet to come. Too worn through with fatigue to do much else, he accepted her words with resignation and drifted off to sleep.

Lloyd suppresses a snort. How amusing that so many years later, the words now match up to her situation. Given Lloyd's in the same boat as her and it's partly his fault they're here now—what with his family's luck and his specific penchant for getting into tight places. Still, they ring in his head, sharp and lucid where everything else falls away.

He's long since quit trying to wriggle out of the ropes binding his and Misako's wrists together. Back to back with only a sturdy bamboo pole between them, he can feel the subtle shifts in her body, how it rises and falls with her steady breaths. Knowing her, she's just like him and hasn't slept a wink the entire night, too strung along by grief and regret to do so. He gets it from her, he realizes, that urge to flee the warmth of his loved ones to go feel sorry for himself in some isolated corner.

It's why she's even on this island in the first place.

And she's why he followed suit.

They both deserve this.

A Keeper kicks his legs with hearty vehemence. Lloyd jolts, glancing at his assailer. Tall and sinewy, trails of lightning snaking underneath their skin, bright, coppery eyes, and gleaming gems embedded into their armor—as a child, Lloyd would have thought they were the coolest thing ever, the goldmine of ancient warriors and extreme badassery. If he were in any other situation than he is now, he'd probably still think that.

"Get up," the Keeper barks. "It's time to go."

Right. They're going to be executed.

In that case, they both deserve this a little less.

Lloyd barely gets a second to stretch his limbs and gingerly rub at the angry, red marks burning his wrists when the tip of a spear jabs him in the back. A strangled yelp rips out of him, hoarse from all the shouting he's done in the past twenty-four hours. He resists the urge to snarl, settling for a glare promising death instead. He knows he's scary, knows the crimson glow of his eyes can make people whither like plants. The spear's wielder hesitates for a second before doubling down.

Another Keeper prods Misako as though she's a horse. The stifled noise she lets out is enough to make Lloyd's blood boil. It burns and seethes in his veins like blood, claws at his ribs like a demon trying to break free, and is only put to rest by Misako's hand clamping down around his. A heavy sigh falls from him, rolling with the single, hefty motion of his shoulders as the tension flows from him.

"We'll get out of this," Misako whispers. She squeezes his hand reassuringly but Lloyd can only hope.

The Keepers surround them in a tight circle, forcing them to stay on the narrow and broken path leading out of the village. Lloyd sweeps the area, tactfully watching his opponents—how many, how strong, their weapons, their weak points. There must be something he can use to take them, or at the very least stall them until his friends slip in for a last-second rescue. They always do, years of experience dutifully tell him so. No amount of the Keepers pulling at the threads of his already fraying faith in the world will convince him otherwise.

The journey takes less than a few minutes but to Lloyd, it feels like forever. Too much time to think about how it's always him and the people he loves always getting into the stickiest situations.

Frankly, he feels like regressing into a nine-year-old's definition of a temper tantrum. Simultaneously, he also feels like shoving all of these warring emotions down into a locked box to never think about again, right next to his father and that horrible, icky sensation that's made up so much loneliness.

The little child in him craves the presence of his teammates more than he'd care to admit right now. The three AM breakdown version of him wouldn't have a problem with this, especially after a news station thought it a good idea to re-air the footage of him and his father in Kryptarium. If he had his teammates, he knows he could lean his full weight into them and expect nothing in return. Missions that pull him away from home are the hardest, if only because he doesn't have the creature comforts of being able to climb into someone's bed or stay awake in a blanket nest watching Starfarer reruns.

He... misses them. A lot.

If Kai and Nya want to scoop him out of this mess about now, that would be fabulous.

Chief Mammatus has an ignorant streak, Lloyd has come to learn. He can't say he blames the chieftain. If the First Spinjitzu Master himself tasked him with protecting an important amulet, he might not care about the lives of strangers in favor of protecting his people and culture too. Doesn't frustrate him any less, especially when he ushers Lloyd and Misako before an incredibly terrifying cliff.

Lloyd peers once over the cliff—not super steep or high up but it meets the mouth of a frothing river. Several jagged rocks poke out of the water, an aura of death floating around them. His heart pitches downward into his stomach.

'That is... very scary,' Lloyd admits to no one but himself, a wave of goosebumps crawling over his skin. Few things in the world scare him, or at least he likes to think so, and if he tries hard enough, he can convince himself that staring into the depths of a dark and watery grave isn't one of them. This isn't like Harumi locking him in a cage and threatening to drown him while his father climbs his way back from the dead.

He's fine.

He's fine.

The more he repeats it, the less sure he is. But ninja never quit, right?

Even if destiny has everything against him if the sudden swell of rolling thunder and rain starting is anything to go by.

"Wojira!"

Lloyd comes alert at the spears pounding in a heavy, ominous rhythm around him. Misako leans into him, her weight a solid comfort anchoring him to the mortal plane. He knows he should be paying attention, there's some important speech concerning his and his mother's lives happening here, even if he knows it simply as same stuff, different day.

"And so, with the ultimate sacrifice, we tame Wojira's fury!"

'Ah,' Lloyd thinks a little too late. He spaced out and completely lost what they were talking about. He suspects it has something to do with sacrificing him and his mother to the storm spirit that rules the Endless Seas, a myth heavily regarded as truth from Lloyd's school days. Not that he entirely cares anymore, as he's on the brink of death. The beat of the Keepers' spears speeds up, accompanied by the strike of several drums as the militia closes in around them and ushers them toward the cliff. A stab of panic goes through Lloyd.

"Wait, hold on!" He blurts out. His heart sets a dangerously fast pace and his blood roars in his ears louder than the rapids below. "Listen, we told you, we don't want any trouble-"

"As all of them have said and as all of them have lied," Chief Mammatus replies. "And as all of them have taken the dive."

A rush of adrenaline coursed through Lloyd's body, fueling his desperation. He lunges to the side, shoving his mother behind him while he frantically searches for the weak link in their defenses. Wrong choice. A spear jabs out with lightning speed. Fireworks graze Lloyd's side, burning and vindictive and angry, unlike anything he's had the misfortune of knowing, and a flash of white shoots across his vision. His hand flies to the wound and comes away hot and stained bright red. A roiling, emetic sensation begins in the shallower parts of his stomach but slowly begins to grow more and more vehement until it's a geyser on the precipice of erupting.

Somewhere in the haze of his mind, he hears his mother screeching his name.

Lloyd grits his teeth. Even as his sight wobbles around, leaving him unable to zero in on his enemies, he sucks in a breath and launches himself into the fray. He grips the base of the nearest spear and yanks it from the Keeper's hands, flipping it in one smooth movement. Taking a gamble, he swings it like a bat into a smear of flesh and prays he's on the mark. Another Keeper matches the blow, though Lloyd expects it this time, and throws his arms up to block.

The Keepers are strong, that frigid blade of thought knifing through him. The hit throws him back a fair bit and nearly sends him tottering over the edge.

Lloyd re-angles himself. Gasping for breath, lungs on fire, he snaps his attention to Chief Mammatus and gives what he hopes is his best death-defying glare. But Chief Mammatus does little beyond a single nod, at peace with his decision. He looks up at the sky and holds his arms out as if to catch the rain in a basket weaved with invisible straw.

"Wojira, take these fiends from us!"

Misako's hand slips into Lloyd's with a vice-like grip. The edge of the cliff crumbles beneath Lloyd's heels even as he throws every ounce of his weight against the Keepers. A little longer, he pleads. Just hold on a little longer.

"Take them into the sea!"

"Not if we have anything to say about it!"

The Keepers' attentions divert, picking out the source of the noise. Like the only good things to happen in Lloyd's life, six colorful blurs tear through the foliage, their gleaming weapons at the ready as they immediately lift the weight from his shoulders. He breathes out a sigh of relief so heavy it aches when emptying from his lungs. His teammates tear through the Keepers with an animalistic conviction, the glittering lights of their elements strike hard and fast.

Nya lands, heavy-footed and her weight imprinting a crater into the ground just outside the circle of Keepers. There's a wild snarl upon her face and more hair in her eyes than tied up behind her. She looks as though a hurricane swept her off the ground and she has all the unrelenting ruthlessness of one radiating off of her.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF THEM!"

The Keepers shift around involuntarily, clearly having not anticipated the sheer cold fury of death raining down upon them. Chief Mammatus barks out a command and they forget their fear, surging toward Nya in a wave.

Lloyd gulps down a shout, his fear for his teammates and whatever optimism he managed to scrape together is quickly crushed by the chief as he wields his spear. A single long swipe, crescent-mooned and smooth, chases Lloyd and Misako back over the edge where the ground falls away. And they plunge into the rapids, a pair of screams tearing out of them before being swallowed by the water.

The warmth of Misako's hand clings to Lloyd's for a few magnanimous seconds before the river rips it away. He twists as much as possible through its violent force, searching every which way for his mother and only finding a thick blanket of darkness obscuring her whereabouts.

An empty sensation pangs across his ribcage, bitter like resignation, familiar as his oldest enemy. That terrifies him, he realizes. That he expected her to disappear. That in the end, bracing for the Departed Realm, he knew he would be alone. He can't- no- not again.

Where are you? He pleads, uselessly reaching out to his mother, to his father.

Where are you? He cries, his small body tucked into an alcove on the roof of Darkly's as he stares up the night sky.

Where are you? Why aren't you here with me?

Saltwater pushes against his lips as he orients himself in what he hopes is up and breaks out of the water, taking in every breath of air he can manage. The rain comes down in a nonstop torrent, pelting his skin and eyes as though they're shards of glass. The wound on his side stings, reminding him of the attention he needs to spare it. He half-heartedly throws some green energy at it to numb the pain before contorting just in time to see a grey head of hair disappear beneath the rapids.

Sucking in a deep breath, Lloyd dives into the waves. The crackling sparks of energy dance on his fingertips before he sends out a volley of glowing spheres to illuminate his murky surroundings. The vague silhouette of his mother fights against the currents far ahead of him and he surges forward, quick to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her up. They barely break the surface, all but wrapped around each other, when a tall shadow falls over them. A giant rock cuts a harrowing figure against the rapids, spelling their impending doom.

"Watch out!"

Misako is the first to act, wrestling away Lloyd's hold and shoving him out of the rock's path. He flails around the pressure, desperate to cling the barest threads of her existence, to make her stay with him. He can't lose her again, he can't.

Just in the nick of time, the rock sails past him at hair's width; its sharp edges scrape against Lloyd's palms as he braces himself for the screeching impact and he's never been more grateful for his heavy-duty gloves. No sooner does he have that thought does he remember that his mother isn't outfitted against the harsh jungle and he struggles through the river. A cold sensation forms in his stomach as he spies no sign of her. With a horrible, keening note, he begins to wonder if the rock got to her before she could avoid it.

Thoughts of his mother's skull splitting against the hard face of the rock sprout in his mind, growing worse by the second with an image of the rapids turning red with her blood. Several quick breaths rush through him, scratching against his lungs and throat. Black spots dance in the edges of his vision, threatening to subsume him into the quiet bliss of unconsciousness.

It must be nice there, Lloyd thinks, then immediately snaps out of it. Not dying, not today, no thank you. He's too stubborn to die and so is his mother.

Besides, Kai would murder him if he died. Nya would slaughter him.

Half his mind present and all of it snapped straight into battling his way out of the rapids, Lloyd pushes against the waves, navigating past one rock, then the next, struggling to keep his head above the water.

"Mom!" He hollers over the roar of the rapids, voice strangled. "MOM!"

He lives on hope, on faint and baseless certainty that he and his family are going to come out of this okay. They have to. Skimming by the next rock spearing out of the river, Lloyd feels a sliver of panic slide underneath his skin as the scruff of his gi catches on something jagged. He scrabbles around, one hand waving around frantically to free himself, the other bracing against the collar of his shirt. Before he can begin to panic, a sudden force bats his hand away and loosens the gi in one swift movement. Lloyd swivels, nearly inhaling water as his mother slips into his sight, her expression grim and determined.

"Lloyd, listen to me." She grabs Lloyd by the shoulders, as close to him as she can possibly get without possibly giving him the chance to be happy she's not dead. She's steady against the raging currents, a pillar to cling to. "The rapids get worse from here on. You need to do everything you can to survive, understand?"

A rhythmic pulse rings out, louder and heavier than the river as it froths around them. As it speeds up, Lloyd begins to realize that it's his own heart giving way to anger. He grits his teeth, lets the heat flush around his cheeks and into his lava-red eyes.

"Oh, sure, as always," Lloyd grinds out.

Misako must see the rage contorting her son's face, catch the tone of voice he's trying to use on her—one he's tried to use and been endlessly scolded for. She definitely doesn't like it.

"Lloyd, focus-"

"On what?!" He shrieks. His hands involuntarily find her arms with a python's grip. "On the river? Our inevitable death? Feels like a usual thing by now."

Misako scowls. "Now is not the time. I studied these rivers, there's a calm shore we can swim to. We'll be safe there."

A growl scrapes against Lloyd's throat, sharp like a blade. The usual red haze he tries to temper down on enters his vision. "I don't get it! The countless all-nighters, shutting yourself away in the library, WHY?! What's the point? Why can't you stay? What's so great about not being in the monastery!?"

'So you can pretend you've moved on?' He doesn't say.

'So you can sweep the past aside like it doesn't matter?'

Lloyd regrets those thoughts as soon as they enter his head. He hates interrogating Misako like this, hates the way she looks at him, lost and confused, so unlike the sure, all-knowing figure he's come to respect.

He knows his mother hasn't moved on in the slightest. He can tell by the way her face crumbles when she finds something of Garmadon's in one of the storage boxes. He can tell through the gentle rise and fall of her back when he finds her slumped over the table in the library, another fruitless night spent trying to figure out how the Oni masks work or whether the husband she loves still resides in the Departed Realm. But the fact that she's hardly ever around, that she runs away from the slightest reminder of the good times...

It hurts him more than she'll ever know.

And he's so, so tired of hurting.

Perhaps he'll never get the answers to his questions because Misako yanks Lloyd closer to her. Her calloused and scarred hands cup his cheeks, one brushing a loose strand of hair out of his face. She opens her mouth to say something, and silently he begs, anything at all from her would suffice. Then, her mouth closes, and she very gently presses a kiss to his brow.

"Stay safe."

Lloyd should respond to that but his eyes find the currents ahead of them, foaming and white and ready to devour them. Before he even has the chance to panic, his mother pushes his head into the crook of her neck. And then they're falling. Lloyd has half a second to brace for it when the water crashes into them again but his mother's hold remains strong and unhindered. He hugs her back, unsure of what else to do, scared to let go of the last little bit of his family.

But the rapids are cruel and uncaring, stronger than his human mother, and tears them apart again. Lloyd scrabbles to put himself together as something hot and intense blooms in his chest, something he hasn't felt since staring down his father, Clouse's spellbook gripped between his hands. A flash of lightning rolls across the sky above, shoving a forceful cascade of light into the rapids. He sweeps the area and has a brief second's time to watch in horror as the current sends her spiraling to her ruin.

Everything happens so fast.

One second, he finds his mother's eyes, cutting a sharp contrast in the darkness—gentle and overflowing while every other part of her, even her soul, is carved out of stone. Their color is a swirling, deep brown, so unlike the neverending darkness of Uncle Wu's or the gleaming severity of his father's. Simple and ordinary and human among his Dragon-Oni family.

The very next second, her head cracks against the base of a giant rock jutting out of the river floor. A shot of adrenaline hurls through Lloyd, harrowing and desperate.

'Go, go, go!' It screams at him.

He shoots forward, pushing off the rock with barely contained terror, ripping through the rapids as if they're scraps of fabric in his hands.

He doesn't know when he reaches his mom, only when he has her and is clawing his way to the surface where the river is miraculously beginning to smooth out and the rocks become fewer, the spaces between them longer. He clings to her, the both of them floating along for what feels like ages until soft sand brushes against the soles of Lloyd's boots. With a grunting heave, he lugs them both to what feels and looks like a shoreline made of dark silt.

Relief flooding him, he gently lays Misako down then proceeds to gently look her over. When he's satisfied she isn't bleeding and that there doesn't seem to be any major injuries, he flops down into the sand next to her. His eyes rove her face, weathered and worn by the world's cruelty. She doesn't talk about what made her grey early or what gave her wrinkles, but he's seen the occasional faint nod to it through stilted conversations and faded photographs.

He wonders, in part, how much of that has to do with his family.

He shakes that thought off almost as soon as he has it. Just because he's sure he's got grey in his hair because his father needs to be punched in the face doesn't mean...

Okay, yeah, dropping that entire train of thought. Starting now.

A slow, painful breath works its way through his lungs and out his mouth, bringing a sudden, choked sob with it. Lloyd slaps a hand over his mouth, muffling the sound. His mother, ever the light sleeper, wakes to it, wakes to see her son bruised and battered and mottled with sand and crying over her. He curses himself for being the soft-hearted sap of the group, his emotions too overwhelming to bottle.

"Stay," he croaks. Even though he's not fit for this, even though he shouldn't have to, even though his mother's problems are most definitely not his own. Even if the Ninja are more family to him than anyone related to him by blood has ever been.

Misako's stare softens but she says nothing.

A/N: Hnnnnnng I'm gonna be real with you, I lingered around that ending for a good while before deciding it was time to cut this off. It's already 4k+ words of disaster. I don't know, I think Misako's and Lloyd's relationship is complicated and needs a lot of work that can't really be solved in one chapter. But I guess the point of this is me desperate to fix what feels like a sloppy job on behalf of the show writers.