It didn't take very long for Jay to realize that he needed a better plan on how he was going to take care of himself, or maybe just better self-control. The box of food Kai had given him, which he had strategically planned to ration out one moment, was completely gone the next.

He walked down the sidewalk of a back street (it was always too crowded and therefore, too risky to use the main ones ever since the ninja started looking for him), staring into the empty carton as if another serving would just appear out of thin air, but of course, to no such avail.

He was hungry; perhaps more so than when he'd started eating. His body had given up hope on having food in his stomach, and now that its hope had been reignited, he felt like he was starving all over again.

He'd told his senses that he was safe too soon, and now they were begging him to eat. Begging him to sleep. The awful buzz of energy coursing through his veins was too much and not enough all at once and all he could do about anything was cry. Or maybe laugh, but he didn't feel like laughing now; it would only cause the energy to burn brighter.

But apparently crying didn't help much, either. Despite the release of Jay's tears, his bubbling nerves still boiled over into anxious energy, and he roared, screwing his eyes shut and collapsing the container in his fists with a series of crunches.

A hot, squealing, fizzing sound, like a teakettle boiling over pierced his ears at the same time as the rank odor of burnt plastic invaded his nostrils, and he became uneasily aware of something scalding oozing over his fingertips like an army of slugs.

Jay opened his eyes to find that the white styrofoam container had transformed into a steaming black goo that trailed down his arms, blue electricity licking over its inky surface.

For a moment, his distress mitigated in favor of entertaining what he'd just done. He'd never thought too much about his ability to melt things before, but it struck him as obvious now— what did he expect, exposing cheap plastic to raw electricity? He'd melted the antenna, too, when he'd needed to get his shoulder free from where it had been pinned, although he'd nearly electrocuted himself in the process that time. Perhaps there were more applications to his powers than he'd explored; lightning was an extreme heat source, after all. Maybe he'd be just as apt to melting materials down as Kai, given time and practice.

The melting plastic felt good, too, enveloping his hands in heat like someone was holding them. Like someone was right there with him, cheering him on and granting him the affection and warmth he so desperately wanted—

And then the feeling was gone all at once, the burst of angry energy that had roared through his palms dissipating at his curiosity, the waves of electricity dying out at his longing, and it burned.

The plastic started cooling, his now-past outburst no longer keeping it at its boiling point, yet the electric aura surrounding him kept it from cooling fast. It slowly burned him, slowly ate into his skin, devouring his cells one at a time.

Which gave Jay all the time in the world to panic.

He gasped and staggered back, as if it would distance him from his "attacker", but the plastic was on him. The plastic was attached to him, and he only had himself to blame, and that gasp of air wasn't enough, so he gasped again and again, and choked on the rancid taste of burnt plastic, and it wasn't enough air.

He struggled to take in more breaths but each one still wasn't enough and they all stung and he fought with his lungs to gulp in more air, almost cutting each breath short with the next one and it still wasn't enough. He was choking, he was dying, there wasn't enough air. All the clear space above and around him and it wasn't enough. He started to run away from the odor of everything burning, but it just came with him and his lungs demanded more air for running but there wasn't more, there wasn't even enough for standing. The world lurched under him. He couldn't even put one foot directly in front of the other, like someone had made the right side of the sidewalk higher than the left.

Jay collapsed and gasped again, sounding less and less like a human trying to breathe and more and more like the grim reaper rasping its warning. Everything was too much and he needed there to be less of everything, except air, he needed it to be just him and the air, so he placed his hands on the sides of his head to block everything out, and jumped with a cry.

The plastic was on his hands and now it was on his face, too, burning into the sensitive skin by his eyes. Try as he might to free his hands, the plastic wanted to cool, wanted to stay together, and now he had black web-like strands of half-melted plastic streaming between his head and his hands and it was burning. It was burning away his skin and he could just feel how red it must be under everything, under the drops of plastic oozing down his cheeks and the messy gloves of half-molten material.

He wanted to stop burning but he wanted to keep breathing and if he sent more electricity through his hands it would make the air around him disappear— no, that wasn't right, air didn't disappear. Why couldn't he think? Why couldn't he breathe? He usually did both of those things so naturally, why was it so hard to just take in a breath and have it feel like a breath instead of like his lungs were filling with the same oozing, dripping plastic that now swallowed both of his hands fingertip-to-wrist. It was wrong it felt wrong everything was wrong.

It had been okay just a few minutes prior at Dareth's boba shop. No, not okay, but better. Everything was still too much and there was still so much to be settled, but Kai was there. Kai was there and welcoming and warm but not burning, and that was exactly what Jay wanted. Kai was a little awkward with him but still gentle. He was friendly. He was there for Jay but still gave him a bit of space; he was sure to provide a warm and relaxed environment. It was like sitting in front of a fireplace on a cold day but knowing that the fire would stay in the hearth and not burn the house down with still Jay in it. Kai had all the fire in the world. He could have incinerated Jay in an instant. But he chose not to burn him.

And here Jay was, burning himself, and the one thought that managed to break through the panic was, Kai would know what to do.

Kai, the blacksmith, master of melting and moulding and fire and everything that Jay was losing control of right now, would know how to fix this.

But would he fix it?

Would he see the pain Jay was in and rush to help? Or would he see what a mess Jay had made of himself and stand by and laugh, adding heat to the fire?

Jay gasped again at the mental image of Kai roaring with laughter while Jay went up in flames. FSM knew he probably deserved to.

Not enough air not enough air not enough—

But Kai wasn't like that. Kai was dependable and caring and maybe not even in the loop about what was going on with the rest of the ninja, if Jay could believe what he'd said earlier.

And Kai was a big brother at heart, and that protective affection was not reserved only for Nya, but had spread to their entire team over the time he'd gotten to know them. He'd gotten plenty of practice with Nya's bumps and bruises over his childhood, and always approached their post-battle injuries with a discerning gaze and a comforting tone.

Maybe he wouldn't laugh at Jay's predicament. Maybe Kai still had a bit of that brotherly affection tucked away for him.

Jay was starting to get dizzy. Black dots spotted his vision. His aching nerves and short, ragged breaths peeled away any complex thought his brain had to offer, and he was left with the bare bones of his situation that his brain still supplied:

He trusted Kai more than he trusted himself right now.

He wanted Kai to comfort him.

Between coughs, Jay wondered if Kai's party had ended. He was not far away at all; it wouldn't be hard to backtrack and seek his help, if it wasn't too late—

"Jay!"

That one word was enough to release his mind from the utter panic he'd allowed it to descend into. He breathed in, out, in, out, not nearly enough to return to normal, but a step better nonetheless.

It was okay. Kai was here for him. Everything was going to be okay.

Jay did his best to assume an unperturbed demeanor as he turned to face the voice, though he knew he still looked like crap. The best he could manage was a lopsided, dazed smile, and he knew that would do nothing to fool—

The grin fell from his face.

Pixal stood before him.

She looked mad.

"Jay Walker," Pixal growled, "Return Zane's power source at once. I am prepared and willing to use force if necessary."

Jay's took in another ragged breath, glancing desperately around them. There was no way Pixal intended to fight him in the middle of the city if there were innocent pedestrians walking by. He forced a smile onto his face as he went to point this out, but soon realized his point fell flat.

He'd taken the back street to avoid attention, and now regretted that decision. There wasn't another soul in sight. So much for that plan keeping him safe.

He managed to keep the weak sneer on his face, though. In his current state, he couldn't afford to look any more vulnerable than he knew he already did. It was taking all his strength not to go toppling against one of the alley walls for support; he already needed to bend down and brace his hands against his knees for stability, panting like he'd just run a 10k. He didn't have to wonder if his eyes were bloodshot; between the numerous breakdowns he'd had over the past few days, his exhaustion, and the fact that he felt like he'd been forced to stare at the same electronic screen for the past week nonstop, he could only imagine how red and dark-rimmed they must be. No doubt his skin only exaggerated the discoloration if he'd turned the sickly pale green he usually turned when he felt this dizzy— he'd stopped moving; why was the world twisting and warping so much around him?

Jay tried to push the feeling aside. Pixal stood before him, braced for a fight, and dwelling on his own ill condition was not going to help him. Instead, he took in a large breath and managed to rasp out, "Sam X suit still out of commission, huh?" He unsteadily rose to his full height, summoning electricity to sparkle over his hands. "How well do you think you can take me one-on-one without any powers?"

Pixal assumed a fighting stance, her brows set with determination. "I calculate that I will manage."

Jay fought the urge to succumb back into his panic. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

He wondered how extensive Pixal's scanners were concerning human anatomy and chemical levels. If she could read his state of health to any degree, if she knew how close to passing out Jay felt, she held a distinct tactical advantage.

If Jay wanted to win, he needed to avoid making their imminent fight purely about brawn. He needed to get inside her head.

"Y'know, I beat Zane," he said with all the false confidence he could muster, and— wait. Was he slurring? "And that was before I got an upgrade."

He let the energy burn brighter off his body in show. The plastic coating around his hands slid lazily down his limp fingers, dripping to the ground in globs.

Apparently that wasn't the right thing to say to appeal to her reasoning.

"Is that all he is to you?" Pixal roared, charging forward and swiping a kick towards him with impressive accuracy. "Just a past trophy?"

Jay dodged out of the way, wondering if she and Zane had been training in hand-to-hand combat together. A thought to come back to later, he realized, when just regaining his balance from dodging proved difficult. Instead of snapping back into a fighting stance like he was trained to, Jay staggered drunkenly off to the side of the alley until he collided with the brick wall lining it.

The brick felt cool and welcome and rough and scathing all at once, and the jolt jarred his head into pounding. But that was okay. Maybe if he just leaned against it for a little while to rest the ache would go away…

Jay jerked his head away from where it had landed just in time for Pixal's fist to collide with the wall. Nope. Definitely not time to rest.

Shoot. There was no way Pixal hadn't noticed his delay.

And did Pixal just imply Jay saw Zane as some thing? The gears in his head refused to turn quite up to speed, but that was what she'd said, right?

Jay snatched Pixal's arm before she could bring it back for another strike, and he pulled her closer to him before tripping her over his foot and throwing her across the ground with a bellow of "Zane isn't just a robot!"

It took Jay just as long to recollect himself from throwing Pixal as it did for her to spring up from the ground and lunge at him again.

She caught him by the shoulders and all but lobbed him against the wall, pinning him against it so his feet dangled above the ground. "Where is he?"

Jay's crown knocked against the wall again with the impact, and for a second the world went dark. He hummed and relaxed into the blissful nothingness of sleep, savoring the break from everything being too much, and then it was gone as soon as it had come, the world fading back into its light and color and buzz of energy and pain. He'd been jolted from his senses for barely a moment, but it was enough to remind him of how much nothingness he was missing out on.

Pixal still held him above the ground, still glaring into his eyes with an intensity that could match the fire ninja's.

"He's safer with me," Jay retorted, though he honestly didn't even trust himself to keep his own being safe. Still, he supposed it was better than being told to waste away as a power source, used by everyone he'd once trusted with his life.

It took a few moments for Jay to recognize the flicker of tenderness that fluttered throught Pixal's expression, gone as soon as it came.

"What do you mean?" Pixal growled, tightening her hold around Jay's shoulders and closing in on his throat.

"Call it hypocrisy for me to keep his power source this close and call out everyone else for trying to use it, but unlike them, I intend to give it back. He won't die on my watch. Not again!"

"What?" Pixal's grip loosened, not all the way, but her hands were back on his shoulders again, and she let his feet touch the ground.

Not that Jay could support himself that well anymore. His knees buckled upon contact, and he couldn't help but lean forward, all but draping himself over his attacker.

Crap.

There was no way she'd be this oblivious to his state now. She knew he was sick. She was going to knock him out and take him back to the temple and they were going to use him to power the device and his body wouldn't be able to take it in a million years. He was going to wither away and die and maybe if he'd just cooperated from the beginning he would have been able to stick it out to the end but now he'd gone too far and everything was too much and he felt so weak and dizzy and— and she wasn't attacking him.

Pixal's grip on his shoulders had shifted even more now and it was stronger, but less oppressive. Less like she wanted to restrain him and more like she wanted to… support him?

Jay's gaze locked with hers, and although her eyes still shimmered with life and emotion beyond that of any ordinary robot, all the coldness in them had faded into something significantly… different.

"What happened to you?" Pixal asked.

Jay blinked. The tone she used with him sounded less like she'd just been about to beat the crap out of him and more like she was comforting a sick child. A sick child who had just thrown up all over her and with whom she was trying to hide her disgust, but nonetheless, the change was palpable.

His half-lidded eyes threatened to close but he forced himself to keep alert, forced himself to scan over her for any clue of what caused her sudden change in demeanor. Maybe if he could figure it out, he could use it to appeal to her sense of reason instead of fighting her. There was no way he was winning a fight against her right now.

His gaze came to rest on her chestplate, which he knew hid all her important interior wiring.

And her power source.

He met her stare again. "I can save you, too."

Her brow furrowed again, not in determination or anger this time. "What do you mean? What is going on with you?"

He frowned. She still must not know. But it didn't matter how much everyone else hadn't told her, if he could save her.

Something about that thought didn't quite make sense in his mind. He dismissed the unease. His mind was especially slow right now; he could make sense of it later. The opportunity to save Pixal rested in the here and now.

Jay opened her chestplate and reached for her power source.

Pixal gasped and slammed her panel shut, jamming his hand in place.

Something mechanical but strange and out of place clamped around his hand; some gadget that hadn't been there in the past when he'd helped Pixal repair her circuitry after fights before.

Jay tugged his hand, but it stayed firmly in place, something out of sight and unknown clamping tighter around it. His shoulder protested at every movement, but he needed to get his hand out. He needed to get free. He was stuck. He only wanted to save her, why did she trap him?

"You trickster! I cannot believe you would stoop so low!" Pixal growled. "But I had thought that you might try to steal my power source as you have stolen Zane's, so have a trick of my own!"

Whatever it was finally stopped tightening around his hand, and he broke free of her hold.

Pixal hastily smoothed her panel closed as Jay tumbled back, glaring at the device fixed around the half-melted plastic coating his hand.

It looked like a skeletal glove, a bare-bones outline of his hand with a lot of blinking lights. Nothing Jay had seen Pixal working on before, that's for sure, and he did not like having this mystery gadget clinging onto him.

"Let's see what's stronger," Pixal called, "Your lust for power or my energy dampener." She swept closer for another attack.

Her words swirled in Jay's head. He knew the meanings of the words she said, but couldn't make sense of them together. He raised his gadgeted hand at her and summoned lightning to his palm.

The lightning fizzled and died out.

He looked at his hand. The blue aura was gone.

Then he was sprawled over the ground. Pixal raised her fist over him, and oh boy, wouldn't it hurt to get clocked in the jaw by a several-hundred-psi punch of titanium.

Jay blocked her punch with his un-gadgeted hand and shot a controlled bolt of lightning through her.

Or, at least what would have been a controlled bolt, had he been operating with the same amount of power as normal.

As it were, with an unbridled amount of energy surging through him, and that same energy now being more concenetrated thanks to it avoiding one of his limbs, he delivered her much more of a shock than he meant to.

Pixal spasmed with a garbled scream, going limp the instant the electricity died away. Steam and smoke leaked from between her joints and panels.

Jay pushed her away and staggered to his feet, keeping a keen eye on her as he backed up.

He didn't— no. He didn't just—

Pixal steadied one hand against the ground and heaved herself up a few inches, residual shocks surging through her wires and spamming out various functions. Her eyes twitched, her head jerked back and forth, her fingers drummed in obviously unintentional patters, but she very clearly remained cognizant and fixated on Jay.

Jay set aside the relief that rushed through him in favor of the wariness, and stumbled away from her as quickly as his aching everything would let him.

"Y-y-y-y-ou wo o-o-on't ge-ge-ge-get away," Pixal called after him.

Jay rounded the street corner and tried to pretend that his heart only raced because he felt so unwell.

He wasn't afraid. Not of what his former team was doing to him, and not of what he was doing to th—

No. He wasn't afraid.

They were trying to hurt him. He was defending himself. There was nothing wrong with self-defense.

Not even though the confusion that swirled in his mind tugged on the feeling that he was missing something.

He was confused and scared because he was hurt and needed help.

He needed help.

Jay produced his phone from where he'd stored it next to Zane's power source in the folds of his gi. His thumb hovered above Kai's number.

Kai would come for him. He felt so weak and Kai wanted to help him.

But he just beat up Pixal. He just almost wrecked her and if Kai found her on the way to help him and she told Kai—

Maybe Jay should wait it out. Just to be safe. He slipped his phone back into its place and took out the power source instead, absently tracing his fingers along its edges like a worry stone.

Besides, even if Kai couldn't be here with him, at least he had Zane to keep him company.