Cole hated physical therapy, but he had to admit that it was working. Slowly but surely, it was working. The day after he won twenty thousand dollars from his uncles, Brad had him sitting in a recliner. It took Brad and a male nurse nearly ten minutes to get him off the bed, and he was supported by what felt like ten thousand pillows, but he was sitting in the chair. He could also sort of reach the TV remote now. Not that he could actually watch TV with nurses coming in and out all day long to do more tests. He also found talking easier now that there wasn't as much pressure on his lungs. He still wasn't very loud, but at least he wasn't struggling to breathe while talking. Wil showed up around lunchtime, but he only stayed long enough to drop off the cash he owed Cole. Unfortunately, trying to get Cole out of the recliner at the end of the day proved too painful for the ninja, so he ended up sleeping in it.

A couple days later, they managed to get Cole into a wheelchair. Brad wheeled Cole downstairs to the physical therapy room and Lou followed them. The room was huge. Other physical therapists and their patients were scattered around the room, working on their own treatments. There were weight machines, climbing-type machines, a staircase that only had three steps, various tables, mats, various smaller pieces of equipment like straps and exercise balls stored along a wall, and through a glass door they could see a pool. Cole didn't know what he wanted to try out first. Brad wheeled him over to the wall and picked up a one-pound medicine ball. They did some basic exercises with the ball. Cole struggled at times to control the ball, but he pushed through.

Every day for the rest of the week, Cole was wheeled down to the physical therapy room. He mostly either stayed in the wheelchair and worked on his upper body or he was put on a table and given the most painful "massages" ever. At the end of his session Thursday, Brad and another physical therapist managed to get Cole on his feet. It was awkward, especially since at six foot four Cole towered over them, and he was very wobbly and didn't dare try to walk, but he was standing.

The next day, Brad allowed Cole to try what Lou dubbed "The Underworld's Jungle Gym." It was a large structure that had some ladders, trampolines at different angels to bounce medicine balls off of, different types of weights, monkey bars low enough you could grip them while you walked, a rope, and a bench for leg presses. Brad wheeled Cole over to the rope so Cole could try and pull himself up. Cole pulled on the rope and managed to pull himself a couple of inches off the chair before his knees gave out. Brad and Lou immediately rushed to get him fully in the chair. Cole thought maybe he could use his super strength to pull himself up, so he took a deep breath and focused on that. Nothing happened. He tried again, but still his arms refused to glow.

"Cole?" Lou asked when he saw the confused look on Cole's face.

"My powers… they aren't working," Cole said.

"Maybe you're too tired."

Cole wasn't so sure about that, but he resigned himself for the moment. He tried again back in his room, but his dad was adamant that Cole rest, so he did. The next morning, after breakfast, he still couldn't summon his powers. All day he tried to no avail.

The ninja came by, but they didn't seem to notice that Cole barely spoke to them or he seemed down in the dumps. They all told him about the saga of meeting Jay's birth mom, his birth mom meeting his adopted parents, going to the mansion that Jay apparently owned, Libby deciding to move into said mansion, and Jay somehow agreeing to spend weekends at the mansion. Oh and apparently Morgen nearly escaped her holding cell that morning.

The next day, Cole was still distracted and barely speaking. Nurse Crane helped him get ready for the day. He was sort of able to help her get him into a wheelchair. He sighed when he saw his reflection in the metal doors of the elevator. He hated the way he looked. After three and a half months in the hospital, he wasn't expecting much, but he was pale, his hair was longer than he liked and super greasy, and he had a beard and mustache which were going to go just as soon as he could handle a razor. He wasn't so distracted that he didn't notice they got off on the wrong floor.

"Where are we going? Physical therapy is on three. This is level two," Cole asked.

"You aren't going to physical therapy today. You're going to meet with Dr. Mesda," Nurse Crane explained.

"What? I never agreed to this!"

"We discussed it with your father and we all agree you need to go."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Your doctors, the other nurses, and Brad."

Cole grumbled all the way to Dr. Mesda's office. He wished he could get up out of the wheelchair and run out of the hospital. All he could do was cross his arms and pout as he was pushed to the office. Dr. Mesda stood up to greet them. The man looked like he was no older than thirty-five. He had short brown hair, glasses, a purple collared shirt, and a smiley face emoji tie. Cole wondered how anyone was supposed to take this guy seriously. Cole refused to speak until he had Dr. Mesda's word in writing that nothing that was said in the session would be told to anyone else. Not his friends, his dad, nor any of the hospital staff. Cole wanted to get the agreement notarized, but Dr. Mesda assured Cole he was bound by doctor-patient confidentiality.

When Dr. Mesda finally got Cole to start talking, Cole expressed his hatred of the hospital. He hated he was cooped up day in and day out. He hated physical therapy. Then the conversation shifted to his parents. Even Cole was shocked at how much pent-up anger he had towards Lou. He wished Lou had just told him the truth about his real mom a long time ago. He was frustrated with the other ninja because they didn't really listen to him. They cared and wanted him out of the hospital as much as anyone, but he felt they were all terrible listeners. He thought if anyone would sympathize with him about losing his powers, it would be his friends. But no, they were more interested in keeping him up to date on what was going on in Ninjago. He also hated he could speak at barely above a whisper.

"Cole, I want you to come to group therapy tomorrow," Dr. Mesda said at the end of the session.

"Why?" Cole demanded.

"I think it would be beneficial to them to see someone of your prominence there."

"No. I don't want to be the poster boy for mental health."

"It would also benefit you as you would meet new people who are going through similar experiences."

"You have other Elemental Masters who were stripped of their powers?"

"No, but I have some patients who… have familial problems that you may or may not relate to. I believe you would only help each other by meeting."

"… Do I have a choice?" Cole grumbled as he crossed his arms.

"No." Dr. Mesda opened the door and wheeled Cole into the waiting area. Nurse Crane, after agreeing to make sure Cole got to group therapy the next day, took Cole back to his room.