Wellspring

by HillwoodDailies

"You still have feelings for him… Don't you?" Kai asked. Nya stared into the bright blue sky with effervescent clouds, but only saw a dark abyss, inky black as the smoke Cole had fallen into, her own faults projecting through her field of vision. She sighed, finally giving in. "They never left." A Cole x Nya canon divergent retelling. Canon compliant Jaya.

6. How to Dance with You

A/N: Here is part 2 of the last chapter! Hope you like some flashbacks and angst. Again, sorry for the long wait. I haven't given up on my babies and this baby. I promise. Lots of things both good and bad have happened these many months, but I do have a surprise. I took to twitter as conya_crystal2 (it used to be just conyacrystal, but a fit of accidental spam in everyone's inbox permanently suspended my account) and asked for some chapter ideas to curb a stupid amount of writer's block. I put what made it in at the notes down at the bottom.

—

One!

I'm biting my tongue.

Two!

He's kissin' on you.

Three!

Oh, why can't you see?

One! Two! Three! Four!

Cole, Age 7

Do you want to know the truth? Cole, from the moment he could gather his thoughts in a cohesive string as a growing boy, always knew he wanted to be a dancer. Ever since he knew how to walk he heard music. It was never deafening to his ears. It casually grew as he was older hearing more and more in his father's in-home studio. Dancing was easy when you always heard music, and even easier when you loved it. And he was good at it. But apparently today, not good enough.

—

Where did it all start? As long as he could remember. A young boy, wandering and toddling the halls of a two story home, following the sound of soft and flighty music in what he would learn later in life as ¾ time, happening across two lovers dancing the waltz in the large dance studio. The song started as a series of strings, sweeping and with a sense of longing. It was felt through the movement and the shadows that crawled across the polished hardwood floor made by the moonlight shining through the open windows. The curtains flowed in the open night air across the ballet bars reaching out to the couple, his parents, dancing away from them.

Cole gazed in wonder as their world was left behind gliding through the studio. The image of his father gathering his mother in his arms, twirling her in step with the beat was forever ingrained into his psyche. His mother's hair that was always, always, always put up in a bun tossed about her torso like a fringe skirt of black water. The skirt of the pink kimono she was wearing, donned with white lilies, was held in her left hand as she held Cole's father's hand with the other. She was dipped, twirled, and lifted high in the air, the gold of her locket shining in the starlight around her neck, and every time with a state of euphoria washed upon her face.

Cole hid behind the open doors in awe. That happiness. He wanted it. Craved it. To feel it in his bones.

Their sequence of steps kept in time to each of the three beats in a beautiful waltz, gliding across the floor. And when the song ended, the dance did so as well with a slow dip down and back up again, where they met for a moment to gaze in each other's eyes, and Cole knew what the next thing would be. A kiss. He shielded his eyes, in disgust, but he still smiled. For his own good he went back to his room and decided to come back the next night to see if he might catch them dancing again. Over the course of the week, no matter how tired he was, he visited the studio every night trying to.

Night after night he snuck around in the dark on tiptoes, and by the end of it he caught them exactly seven days later. For weeks he came to the same place, the day before the weekends start, to discover them in their ritual. Different songs with different instruments, same rhythm, every week and on the same day.

They would eventually discover him one day after two months of watching. Cole was just too tired that day and they found him, snoring, while sitting cross-legged and leaning against the doorframe. He woke up from his slumber in his bed, and they discussed it the next morning.

"Papa? Can you teach me?"

—

By the age of seven, dancing had become second nature. Muscle memory. He started at the basics by first being led around by gentle hands, with different sets of dance shoes for good measure. His favorite were his taps, for how much noise he could make, and from an early age, being lifted by his hands in his mother's grasp with the music created and playing in his head. For the longest time it was what he wanted to do more than anything. When he was sad, when he was happy. He would tell his parents this and they would walk hand in hand to the studio for another lesson.

And the excitement and pride in his father's eyes every time, secretly became a goal for Cole to achieve until the end, and he had been dancing ever since. And even up until the last performance with his quartet, Cole only did it for his father.

Well, again for truth's sake, he wasn't the only one Cole did it for…

She, his mother, Lilly Brookestone would be there for every performance. Every recital. Every time. And in the same seat. It was a special seat reserved in that theater from how much she chose it. Not too far, not too close. (Cole's father had a lot of pull with the Box Office Manager) She did it for the reason that she told him; that Cole could always see her, even through the stifling stage lights. Her smile was always there for him during a recital, as white and beaming as any of the times he would bring her a drawing, or help her with the cooking, or dance happily with her and Lou in the house. If there was a part that he was unsure of, her eyes would calm him, and he would pull through. And he would always pull through, every time. On this day however, it all had changed.

—

There would always be a ritual. Three days before a performance, ingredients would've been placed on the table as soon as Cole returned from rehearsal, and with great excitement he would help her make Violetberry Soup. She would let him help more and more, season by season, year by year. It was her favorite, and Cole never admitted it out loud that it was his as well, after cake of course. The cake he found planted in his jacket pocket after every rehearsal was the one he craved for and carried with pride the most. And for a recital well done, he would return to the lobby to his mother with an arm full of flowers, and he helped with finishing the three-day-long soup for their dinner when they arrived home. And then, on the last day of the week, the night after they would be in the house's studio. Father and Mother and Son would then dance together like the world was never watching.

This would happen every year's recital season, twice. Once for the winter and once for the spring. The week leading up to every performance was a constant and consistent source of excitement for the young Cole. It would last for four years, and in Cole's honest truth, eight times too little.

By the fifth year he could tell something was off. Missing. He didn't know why he was so afraid, but he couldn't shake the fact that something was terribly and dreadfully wrong. This week more than any other week. That winter, the smiles were fewer, the dances slower, and one of the ingredients for the famous and uplifting Violetberry Soup would be forgotten and his mother had to take an extra trip to the store to get it. It happened every day. And there was no dance. Just dinner, but without the soup, then sent to bed by his mother in a haste.

She was there for the shows, but the rehearsals were becoming more and more of a nightmare as he felt more progressive pressure from his father. He wanted to ask him what was wrong. Where was his mother and the soup, why his "rehearsal" cane was brought out more and more?

It was so quick. It was so jarring, and the night after that winter recital, in his bed, Cole secretly wished for spring to come faster and that the void would be filled somehow.

All I have to do is wait… He thought to himself.

—

Then in the spring that he prayed for to arrive, five years from the day he wanted to be a dancer, Cole had practiced this final song and dance routine for a month. School, rehearsal, eat, sleep and repeat. Cole worked with the same three boys of his quartet for as long as he started dancing outside the confines of his father's in-home studio. If you asked him in the present what they even looked like, he couldn't tell you. His distaste for them more than tripled almost every year, but his father insisted, and Cole didn't care. He was living up to a legacy.

If you had asked him in the present what their names had been, he would say he had forgotten and this would be another truth. As for most things for children when they want to do something, the course-correcting parent would continue, and this was no exception. Lou made the decision for him. They would be Cole's own Royal Blacksmiths. But, at the time, the thought of being a part of the Royal Blacksmiths later down the road as a career path wasn't so bad. It would make both his parents proud, and he couldn't think of really ever doing anything else.

The rehearsals leading up to the final show in the spring with his quartet were constant and the person who always got the criticism was him. The only thing that was stopping him from fulfilling his destiny now was the grand finale: The Triple Tiger Sashay. The most difficult dance move in Cole's repertoire, and in any dancer's in all of Ninjago. It was a series of sideways flips on the arms of the boys below him, three, followed by a low slide and into a final pose. It required focus, strength, and above all else: balance. Everything but that final move was perfect and Cole never intended for it to stay that way. If he did he would face the wrath of his choreographer, who just so happened to be his father.

Lou's criticism would become rampant, unhinged. He would tap his cane on the ground with a booming thud, micro-micromanaging his son's every miniscule detail. That last rehearsal was a hindrance to the music in his heart as his father struck his "rehearsal" cane down far too many times for him to count. He would only use this cane for special occasions or for any of his few injuries that he even had in his career. Lou Brookestone was that good. This was one of his special occasions, and each strike was like the deep bellowing sound of a timpani. It surprised him each time. Each strike from him came with a flinch, and it would happen enough that the rest of the quartet let Cole take notice and never let him forget it.

It even happened so often that Cole, day after day, just wanted to go home. He appeared later and later at every rehearsal, taking longer and longer to get out of breaks, and when he would come back Cole would lie about where he had been. And the music, the orchestra that played through his mind to get through the day, began to diminish. It became lower and lower each passing day, losing that one familiar hunger to go on further, and he hoped that it would go unnoticed. He had acted his entire life, why not try it out in the real world?

At the last rehearsal, the other boys were relentless. He would see the eye rolls from the others, the disappointment and passive aggression that would morph later on into sounds of snickering and laughter. It made him annoyed more and more when his father would add more and more difficulty to the routine aimed specifically at him. After all of the singing, the first part of the rehearsal for the day, he was fine, but it was never perfect and it became louder and louder, forced and more forced. He kept his balance, but his focus… he had other things on his mind.

Cole cracked.

It was in his range. It wasn't supposed to be a big deal. It was supposed to be as easy as breathing, but it was the reason the voice track was playing. It made the others annoyed, and he could see it through each of their expressions and hear it through their stifled scoffs. How he hated those scoffs. And the worst of them all was the look on his father's face. It hadn't happened so thoroughly before, and after all of the practice runs that they had done that morning, a sigh escaped a mouth that was closed. Disappointment.

In the space, the instrumental was replaced with the vocal track so the only thing left he had to do was complete the move, he would keep up with the rest of the boys in the group. The preparation for the Triple Tiger Sashay involved a series of moves that weren't too difficult. The boys in the group got into their line and held their hands up to catch him, locked elbows and preparing their stances. But when the music started up Cole, the muscle memory taking over, blacked out into the music daring the disappointment to hit him now. And then, on that day, after all of the screw ups and mistakes, a miracle happened.

He did it.

And after, he waited for some kind of sound from his father's lips. His brain had finally caught up to him as he looked up with a confident smirk. Lou gripped the cane in both his hands, no shouts of encouragement or ecstasy, no smiles, no notes. Just, "It needs work but we'll move on."

And Lou did move on, and Cole didn't like it. Not one bit.

—

He would come home incredibly late that night hungry, like he usually was after a particularly long rehearsal. Even with his mother's snack in his jacket that he ate underneath the stairwell backstage during the fifteen minute break, he still wasn't satisfied or full enough. After that all he wanted to see was his mother, but he arrived home that night, the day before the show, to find that his mother was nowhere to be seen. Cole's father, who followed him in after piling their things out of the car, was the one who fixed supper. It was hardly ever very good. A trait they had both shared.

Supper in the dining room was in silence, the laughter was nowhere to be heard and Cole and his father sank into the very present darkness in their hearts. It was empty of any Violetberry Soup, and it didn't feel right. It felt too empty. No sounds other than slow chewing. But… he just had to ask.

"She went out, Cole." his father responded.

After a few more forkfuls, he asked where she was this time of night.

"She went to… visit a few places… and run some errands."

Cole tightly knitted the bridge of his nose in confusion and with as subtle an anger as he could muster. He asked who she was visiting.

"Your mother will be here in the morning." He said, stiffly, almost interrupting him. Then without any preamble, finished his meal and stood at the head of the table: "I expect the Triple Tiger Sashay will be perfect tomorrow. I trust you will not fail."

For the first time, his father had finished his meal faster than he did. But of course, Cole truly hungered for the soup he knew would never come.

His father disappeared out of the kitchen. Cole never used his chance to ask him about the soup, but he knew what chances he had left and he was going to take them. Sneaking into the foyer, he dumped the rest of his food outside, away from his father's prying eyes. He bid his father good night and Cole heard his father say something as he entered the hall, but he had ignored him completely. Cole then quickly arrived in his room. On the floor, next to the door, he sat and waited until all of the lights in the hall were out and planned his next move.

When the coast was clear, Cole snuck into the studio late into the night so that mother wouldn't notice him when she arrived and father would not hear. He shut all of the windows, then placed the three ballet bars in a row in the center mimicking the places on the stage for the other boys in his quartet, and then he tried and tried again. I will not fail you, Pop. He thought over and over.

The first few times were good, and he landed them, but was never perfect enough to fit what Cole thought his father would accept. The music in his mind was replaced with a cane-sounding timpani. Thump! Thump! Thump! It accompanied every try that he performed in that accursed mirror. This time will be different. It will be perfect. He thought to himself.

He jumped over those three bars, for what seemed like hours. And it was. He tried to keep quiet, but with the chingling that came from the metal posts of his makeshift group of ballet bar boys, it was getting close to impossible. After the many times he repeated his process, his music for the routine he heard in his mind was blaring in his ears.

There were noises, of muffled footsteps now, outside in the hall. Cole, at that point in his practice, was on the floor and he unfortunately didn't notice them. That final thump to the ground was the last thing he did, and heard, before the doors of the studio busted wide open. A woman's voice yelled as silently in a whisper as she could.

"Cole! What are you doing?! Young man, you should be in bed and-" Cole's mother started having a fit of coughs in front of him, and propped herself up on the open double doors of the studio. Half of her body in the dark, her coughs were pointed in the direction of the hall. That darkness encompassed her torso, blending it in with the black robes that she was wearing.

He looked at her up and down, and noticing her very apparent exhaustion was nothing compared to Cole noticing how pale she was. What's wrong with her? She looked and sounded okay the other day. What changed? He thought. Cole held her close to him, happy that she was here, and holding on to the skirts of her black outfit. He had blocked his unfamiliarity of an attire Cole had never seen on her before.

His mother pulled him off of her and came to the center of the room and propped herself up on the ballet bars. "What is all this? What are all these? Did you just-"

Cole couldn't take it any longer.

"I did it!" The little one said, panting from his excitement, throwing his hands up in the air, open, fingers splayed and fingers wiggling free. "I did the Triple Tiger Sashay!" For a moment, Cole searched through her weariness for that hint of pride he was looking for since rehearsal.

"What?"

He sheepishly took his hands down a little bit trying not to lose his current confidence. "I did it, Mama."

"You did that today? Really?" She saw his ginger nod, and she lit up like a New Year's festival. "Honey, I'm so proud of you!"

"But, it wasn't perfect for the show. Dad said it needed work. But I was making it perfect with practice, you know?" He stepped away from her to gesture to the room to present the good work he thought he was doing. In the moment it took for him to travel further forward, almost to do it once more in front of her, she pulled him to her side.

"No. Honey, perfect practice makes perfect. And with supervision." She then crouched down to meet his tired eyes straight on to hers that were equally so. "Doing the Triple Tiger Sashay alone without someone watching you? And with these?" Lilly Brookestone practically shouted through her whispers with her gestures to the bars behind her. "Please, don't ever do this again unless someone watches you and helps you okay? Do you understand?" He was distracted by her distress that dressed her face. "Do you? You promise me, right now. "

Cole sighed in a half-hearted huff. "Yes, Mama. Promise." And then Lilly smiled. One of those content and happy smiles that he didn't know that he needed, and internally wished he had it when he was home tonight. Cole thought it was better than any sip of broth from any dish she could serve. Her tiredness leaked through her eyes again.

"Good." She fiddled with his clothes, straightened out his tousled mop of black hair, and placed both of her hands gently caressing against the face of her boy. "Now, sweetheart, where is your father?"

He nuzzled into it as he answered her in a raspy voice. "In bed. I wanted to surprise him, for tomorrow night Mom." Cole almost collapsed in on himself as he took in all he had done that night. All of the adrenaline of almost an hour of intense practice finally catching up to him. He started to yawn, stretching out. His mother's hands left his face and brought his arm that had gone upwards in his stretching. She rolled his long sleeved black shirt up, and the small dark splotches appeared, being unveiled to him like an illusion revealed by a curtain.

"Oh! Oh no. What are we going to do Mom? I'm so sorry, I won't do it again Mom, I promise. I promise." Cole began to get all jittery and nervous, imagining all of the possibilities of the future rushing through his head.

"Shhhh. Dear, we'll deal with all of this in the morning. You are lucky your father is such a heavy sleeper. No more tonight. You'll do fine tomorrow, no matter what happens. Just watch me, alright? I'll be in the same spot I always am."

"Okay, Mama. I will." He said as they left the studio and the lights were switched off for the night.

—

They tried, oh how they tried, to hide the bruises that surfaced from his so many attempts later that morning. His mother took the necessary actions to see to the pronounced bags under his eyes that had surprisingly grown larger. He and his mother stole the stage makeup kit from Lou's bathroom and used it to the best of their ability. The bruises were unnoticeable, as long as he wore his long sleeves, as his mother cautioned. She barely laughed at Cole's joke in the bathroom, that since he wore a suit on stage that wouldn't have to be a problem.

They lasted the whole day, even with Cole's nerves around his father heightening from his and his mother's little secret. When the time came to leave and Lou was in a hurry to get into the car and called for them, Cole answered back with his location, fighting the strangled tone apparent in his voice. His thoughts couldn't be tempered.

The move isn't perfect enough. It is just not perfect enough. What do I do? What do I do?

Before he could go any further out of the doorway, his mother stopped him from exiting their home and bent down to him and gave him these instructions in a hushed and weak voice.

"Sweetie. Put the top of your costume on in the bathroom, it will hide those." She pointed to the places she had seen this morning with a crooked smile. "And, hey, I have a surprise for you. It will be in your jacket pocket, same as always." Her pleading eyes and a small sigh came through after the half smile, her real and honest emotions out in the open. "But Cole, are you sure you don't need anything to calm your nerves? Anything you need before you leave?"

He heard the voices in his head create a series of just one word: Run. Run. Run. RUN.

"No, Mom. I'm okay. I'll be fine." He laughed. Cole internally chastised himself for his outsides disobeying his insides.

She, to him, looked disappointed, and to this day it tears him apart. That's the honest truth. But she nodded and took his answer in stride.

"Come on, then, let's go. We're coming, Lou!" Lilly locked the door. Then they left.

—

He did what he was told, and at the first opportunity. His act would go on right after intermission, and the first thing that Cole wanted to do was dig into his pocket for the treat that was packed by his mother. Without fail, every time. Cole hid in his favorite spot he had found, away from his father and prying eyes, underneath a flight of stairs in the dark. He wanted his snack so much to satisfy the desperation. To satisfy his aching and nervous stomach, to soothe the pain in his aching body. When he pulled it out, he noticed on the back of the packaging a message written to him on a tag in thick permanent black marker. It read simply: You'll do great things tonight, honey. Love, Mom.

The 'places' call was heard, and he tried to swallow the nerves down with the remnants of his last meal. Cole arrived behind the blood red curtain, taking his place to the outermost position near stage right. He looked down at his vest, striped in black and white, tucked it down and swiped any brown crumbs off. He adjusted his shoulders, buttoned up his jacket, pulled down his top hat and loosened his bowtie, doing anything that assembled a clear head and the absence of sweaty and shaky palms.

The previous week's events would play before him in his mind as the start of the number began. The sounds of the announcer through speakers were the only soundtrack that played over the images.

"And now, I am proud to welcome and introduce to you the pride and joy of all Ninjago! The Young Royal Blacksmiths!" In the haze of the blood red in the curtains, the words were cold, uncaring and phony rather than joyful, exciting or welcoming.

Cole's heart pounded in his ears. He still ached from the night before. His mind was blank. When the curtain peeled away to open, he only saw the bright and white-hot lights that blinded him ferociously. He flinched a little, juxtaposing the performative smile on his face. The silence and static of the speakers ticked away. A signal. A stopwatch counting down. Cole focused his energy to the empty blackness, where he found his mother's eyes in the audience. He took a breath and began.

Cole sang his little heart out, his eyes never leaving his mother until the muscle memory took over. Just like in the rehearsals, it carried him through the number. His father was in the wings, and with every turn he would ignore his periphery and the rest of the world. The music meant nothing, the words meant nothing. The only thing he had cared about were those eyes.

The performance was working without a hitch to be seen, and there were no mistakes. He didn't crack, he didn't flinch, everything so far had been perfect. The other boys in the routine were doing well, but he didn't notice them either, the repetition from day after day in the rehearsal room working out in his and their favor.

All he would have left was the grand finale, and when the final 32 bars of the song were coming and hurrying fast, he heard something through the blinding of the lights that threw off his rhythm, just a tiny smidge. It was the coughing. It was loud, and it was constant. It seemed every bar closer and closer to the end of the song was accompanied by a rat-a-tat-tat of a snare drum. It made him flinch, it reminded him of the timpani, the cane. It ruptured his focus.

But the other boys were preparing for the grand finale. They went into their position slowly, one after the other, standing in their places and waiting patiently. Their arms were raised to carry the weight, a thing they had been trained most of their lives to do. All they had to do was wait for the boy who would take it all home.

The final notes were sung, the ballad's rhymes were almost done. During the first jump to the first boy in the line, All Cole had to do was look. To do what he was told, and to see her eyes. But had caught that the seat that once held the object of his groundedness was fatally empty. Cole was late on the entry, hitting his target, but missed the mark. He tumbled to the second arm that waited for him, missed the third flip, and landed on stage left. With Cole's hat off and away he was down, face first, into the unforgiving floor.

There were a few audible gasps in the audience, and when he propped himself up from the floor, it devolved into nothing but pitiful laughter as the remnants of the song faded away into the rafters. He could see Lou in the wings, holding onto the gold ball of his cane with both hands, worried, then dejected. After a look to his angry and disappointed choir mates, and the drop of the blood red curtain to the floor, Cole ran to the bathroom, scared out of his mind.

—

Cole's mother was already waiting out in the car. There were no flowers this time. It was a silent car ride. He didn't ask where she was when he needed her, and he guessed that his father was too embarrassed to even go backstage and see him again. And he didn't. So when he came to the car, Cole decided to stay silent.

When Cole returned home, his father emptied the contents of the car of all the garment bags containing his street clothes. He knew his mom would handle putting those away so he just climbed the stairs up to his room to change. The phone started to ring, but he didn't bother going to the counter to answer, he just bolted up to his room just trying to get out of his outfit as soon as humanly possible. Cole took them off, put on his PJ's, and hung the clothes up on the door of his closet, ready for her to do what she needed.

When it was done, Cole went down to the kitchen, where he knew the next order of business was to eat supper with his parents. Dreading the conversation that may take place, he climbed down the stairs toward the foyer and walked to the direction of the kitchen slower than his usual pace. His stomach growled, to protest him carrying the weight of an imaginary great and heavy stone that dragged the floor behind him. Cole, through the hallways leading to the kitchen, stopped to glance at each one of his father's trophies.

Each one had a picture or a poster swarmed with signatures. Of good wishes, tidings, and congratulations. Exclamation points and warm smiles surrounded by towers of plated gold, behind reflective glass. Blade Cup or no. He had been to each of them. Happiness was in the memory, but not in his reflection. It mocked him. In reaching the final one, he was interrupted in his staring contest with the failure that reflected back with the sound of his parents voices coming from the kitchen.

His mother was speaking first. "...I don't know how to break this to him. He needs me Lou. They both need me."

Both? He thought. What were they talking about?

"I'll see what I can do. But in your condition? How can I bear it?" His father was clearly upset, so Cole with his pinched nose listened in with morbid curiosity.

So something was bothering him…

"I know it is a lot to ask for, darling. But I need to do this too. I don't know how much time I, or we all even have left."

We? Cole leaned in closer to see their faces, turning his head into the kitchen doorway for a closer range of hearing.

"Can't he find someone else, Lilly? Libber? Ray? Maya?"

These were names he was unfamiliar with and he was genuinely confused. Was that why she hadn't been around lately?

"I'm the only one he has left. The only one that he found. Everyone that he once trusted for this has all gone. I know it is a risk, but I made a promise. A promise I intend to keep."

"I trust you. I love you. I'll make another housecall. Tonight." He kissed her, Cole shielded his eyes.

"I love you too, Lou. I'll see you in the morning for the trip. Do you think he'll like it?"

A trip! Where? He could go anywhere Cole stumbled a bit, and his head was fully in the kitchen now. Then with the sudden flick of his father's eyes, akin to a light switch, turned to Cole's direction. It was a look Cole saw that was not too unfamiliar, like his father catching him with a hand in a cookie jar. Which had been done in the past. Cole flinched at the thought of him being caught during such a heavy moment between his parents and tried to do what all kids do when being caught. Run off.

"Well, heh, sweetheart why don't you ask him?"

Too late. Defeated, he walked through the door of the kitchen sheepishly. Cole was, surprisingly to him, greeted with warm smiles from the both of them. It was what he needed and he smiled back, but not too much. Not completely hiding the worry, nor the disappointment, from his face.

"Oh! Hello, honey." Lilly looked as if his very presence scared the ghost from her form. Pale.

"Hi, Mom."

"Hello, honey." she said to her son in a nervous tone. The assuming silence prevailed. Then a cough. Lou put a hand on her shoulder.

"What is it, Mama? Are you and Dad okay?" Cole asked.

"Cole, we know you probably don't feel well to go anywhere tomorrow, but how about we all go out somewhere nice? You, me, and your father go on a trip somewhere special? We'll pack a nice little picnic." She stooped down to be at his level, kneeling with one knee on the ground on their linoleum kitchen floor and cradled his face with her left hand. "What do you say?" His mother waited for his response.

He did like the sound of that. A lot. He ached for it, but a million questions swirled through his mind at that moment. He wanted to ask her why she wasn't there tonight in her usual seat. He wanted to ask his father why he was so distant. What is all that coughing, and will it be gone by tomorrow? What even is the place where we're going? Is it for what she caught him doing that morning? Who were all of those people they were talking about…?

"Okay Mama, that sounds great. But Mama, I have a question."

"Yes, honey, ask away. You can ask me anything." Lilly asked. He leaned into the soft swipe of his cheek with her hand. A tear threatened to leak from his eye, but he willed it away as he softly spoke. His stomach gurgled and he asked the only question he really wanted answered, so he could just forget it all and go to bed.

"Will there be cake?"

—

As the car was loaded up with the supplies for the picnic the next morning Cole, even after a full night of sleep, still suffered from a hardened heart. He woke to the sound of raindrops on the roof, but his mother said that they would be out of the way of any weather. He would know she would be right only after he absentmindedly watched the glide of the phone wires out of the water-stained window as they headed north, out of town. He thought that the wire's dance would last forever, but the car turned in a direction in which those lines didn't exist anymore. He saw endless sand for a moment on the ground as they turned left, in the direction of the Toxic Bogs.

"Mom, Dad? Where are we going? Are we lost?"

The young boy watched as his parents looked at each other solemnly, but then it became all smiles, and as if on instinct held onto each other's hands. As both conjoined hands gently landed on the console in between them, Cole's mother turned her head around to meet her son's gaze.

"No, sweetie. We're not lost. We are exactly where we should be."

They shared a smile and his mother looked to Lou, forlornly for a split second, echoing the previous night before he was sent to bed with a song. Cole's confused gaze led him back out the window. He chose to watch the streaks of old rainwater flow down and disappear down the window instead of the now-gone wires to, again, distract himself. A tightness was in his throat that he couldn't swallow down and he waited.

After only a short ten minutes of driving, they headed towards a place that Cole did not even recognize in the slightest. The sand had disappeared and had been replaced by nothing but mountains and trees. A rough terrain. Today, Cole was treated with a sight of green that lay beyond the mountains that he would gaze at through the windows of his second story room. It was the most green that he had ever seen in his life, an amount that had only been seen in his school's science textbook illustrations. From far away, it all looked like a curtain almost. The leaves of the trees at the base of the mountain weeped down and swayed in the soft wind that was left over from the storm. There was a soft , almost gone fog. A clear sign of morning shifting to the afternoon.

Lou pulled up close to the trees, and into the grass, softer than the gravel road that they were on. "We're here," he said. "I'll get everything out. Go take Cole and lead him through. I'll catch up."

"Alright." Lilly answered back, then, "Come on, honey, come on out and follow me." Her smile was wide and sincere and caused Cole to experience some kind of emotional whiplash. Only a few minutes ago she was slow and initially somewhat immobile, but Cole noticed her excitement by the way she opened the car door, closed it and stepped out. Immovable in her conviction, however, she even grasped the handle of Cole's door, opened it, and grabbed the front of her skirts to lift them up so as not to get her dress wet. Her smile was almost crazed as she reached out for his hand.

Shaken by this new set of confusing circumstances he just had to ask her: "Are you okay, Mama?"

"I'm fine, honey. Let's go. Quick, before your father gets done. I want to show you this myself." she said. Gesturing her hand forward again for him to take it, he gave her a genuine happy smile in response as he nodded and took it. She closed the door, loud enough to be a slam, with the hand that held her skirts up. "You ready to run?"

"Sure, Mama!" Cole exclaimed, his body quaking with the potential energy ready to explode into the kinetic.

"Good." His mother answered and firmly squeezed his hand. "Let's go."

Lilly burst forward and practically dragged the seven-year-old Cole as they ran full speed to the part of the forest of weeping willow trees that were darker than normal. The opening revealed itself to them. Her running became slower and slower to help Cole catch up as they ducked and weaved together between the seeping leaves and the brown trunks of trees. For the first time in a while, the pressure in his chest lifted and he was able to laugh again as he watched his mother laugh alongside him, feeling as though they were both children. Free to roam the outside after a busy day of classwork.

The trees became thicker and taller as they ran down the path they had run from his father and the car. They separated hands when he suddenly burst forward, leaving his mother behind only for a small moment in time. The coughs started again and Cole was stopped in his thoughts when she slowed to a crawl and started slowly but surely catching her breath. She wasn't heaving like the night before, but her breathing to him seemed labored. They both stopped as soon as she had control of herself, then her smile returned to her.

Cole came to her side as quickly as he could, tripping up a little as he came to her side. "Are you sure you're okay? Maybe I should go get Dad to go with us." He started to go without a need for her approval, but was stopped by a hand that gently gripped his wrist and it pulled him back to her again. She stood, using him for balance. That had never happened before. A shake spread through him and ended on the tips of his nerves.

"No need, honey. He knows where we will be." she said weakly, but slowly gained the strength back. The low rasp like gravel morphing into her regular cadence, smooth and deep. "Come. We are almost there."

"Okay, Mom."

After only a few minutes of walking, Cole could sense they were getting closer by the noise. It wasn't a roar, but the sound of a great 'something' moving. It became louder and louder as the trees in the forest became the most dense, the willows forming a curtain along the horizon. When they came closer to the wall of leaves, she stopped in front of the strings and peeled it back in the middle of the foliage. His mother began to walk forward, holding out her hand for him to take again. He did so with caution.

"What's that noise, Mama?"

She grinned from ear to ear. "You'll see. Be patient."

As the foliage they bypassed grew into a faint memory, Cole grew anxious. Her palms were sweaty. Or were they mine? He thought. She was looking forward and distant, like a thousand yards were in her periphery. Cole couldn't look up at her anymore, from an explosive bout of anxiety and morbid curiosity. The tunnel of trees was ending, and the noises were growing ever louder. At the end they stopped again. She let go of his hand to finally reveal her surprise. Reaching out, after all of the secrecy of the past few days what he felt like was a loaded question, she asked him. "Are you ready?"

He nodded, and without waiting for Cole to finish his gesture, she peeled back the willow curtains and he was brought into a bright light. He squinted as he shielded his face for a moment, but when he recovered he saw one of the most beautiful sights he thought he would ever see in his life. There was a light spring breeze that tousled his hair, as his gaze fell upon the sight, starting with a large hollow log that laid in the center of the clearing that lay before him.

He practically gasped in childlike wonder when he took in the sight. "Wow."

The roar was akin to a purr of a lion, and it belonged to a waterfall. It was at the base of the mountain range that moved west, and the waterfall had collected the water from the high mountain tops that rose above him. From the top of the falls, the moss and the trees would climb down the fall's three levels. The sun shining above it all made its waters and rocks shimmer and shine. He wished he was here during the night, jealous of anyone who would stay so long to catch the glimpse of the sunset over the falls.

That shimmering brook underneath the great falls headed east from a pool a foot deep and disappeared through the trees. Laying atop the rolling water that bled out into the willow forest that was set around them floated both water lilies and the leaves from the trees blown by the wind. In a sea of green and blue, they shined a magnificent pink so bright that Cole would think it would be hot to the touch.

The trail of lilies rounded the center of the clearing around the large log, mossing over with age and light enough coloration to prove its age as it was slowly dying. The slight waving of the willow branch strings were just begging to be swatted at by him sitting from underneath with a wad of chocolate cake that his mother made that morning in his hand. He could feel the remnants of the ganache left behind on the edge of his lips already.

Mouth agape and appreciating the majestic view, Cole didn't know how long he was gawking at the beauty before being interrupted by his mother taking his hand again.

"Cole, do you know what this place is called?"

He glanced at the clasped hands and then he looked back up into his mother's distant eyes. "No, Mama. What is it?"

"This place is called a wellspring. This is a living, breathing thing, a representation of all of life itself. It is a place in which water from the stream falls from a waterfall and into a pond, and like any stream, will be gone and eventually become a part of the ocean."

"Wow…"

Cole was interrupted after the call of his father was heard through the blanket of willow leaves. "Lilly?" In one arm he carried a red and white patchwork quilt, the other a large picnic basket weaved with straw.

"Right here, love!" She stumbled along the rocks of the stream in her sandals unafraid, unlike Cole, of getting her feet wet she led him by the arm to the log.

"Well, where do you want the quilt to go, darling?" he said quickly, trying to catch up to her.

"Right next to the log, of course! Where else?" Lilly called back, almost to the log.

"Do be careful, Lilly. You wouldn't want to-"

"Hey, Cole?" He raised his head in cautious curiosity. Then almost immediately, Cole was roughly tapped on the shoulder, akin to a push, and then his mother ran away back towards the stream. "You're it!"

Cole, being so young, was able to catch her in no time. He didn't even have to make an effort. "No. You're it." And then he ran forward, leaving her in the dust.

They played tag underneath that hollow tree and Cole lost count of how many times he had hopped the log. But for the sake of more of the truth, he would regret this later in life. Cole used his observations unfortunately to his advantage, like a skit in an unimportant elective improv class. At Marty's he held that memory, another secret, in his heart. To the detriment of his career. He more than often heard the phrase "At least pretend you want to be here." too many times in his short life.

But what hindsight is available in the world for a seven-year-old, the emotional avalanche that would occur by the end of that fateful day, playing innocent childhood games?

For the next few hours, they did play by the log and eat on the homemade checkered quilt below the swinging vines of the hollow tree. Unperturbed. No cares in the world. Bugs swarming the water, wind in each of their heads of raven hair, the festivities of the day masked the previous day's events. Like it all never mattered. The aches and pains from hunger were further and further diminished with every faded smile from his parents. And they both were smiling. There was even, without any reasonable doubt… laughter? It was true what they said, he guessed. Happiness was contagious.

It was the cake that he desired most, covered in the clear and clinging wrap adorned with dark melt-in-your-mouth chocolate splotches, which he desired just as much as the dessert. He grabbed the cellophane when the cake piece that was his was gone and did what he wanted. Cole grabbed it from the basket, and with the final lick, he was met with even more laughter. He crumpled it up, getting up from his spot on the blanket on the ground and tossed it in the basket with a flourish and made it in.

But his father was packing away everything else. The plates, the spoons and forks, the other trash from that day. The final thing he did was ask for the rest of them to hop off of the patchwork, and Cole's mother chimed in while he was making the final folds to carry it off. Cole didn't want to leave, and his wish was soon answered.

"Sweetheart, can you pack up the things in the car? I want to stay a little while longer here with Cole."

His father gave her a glassy-eyed look. "Of course, darling. I'll be out of your hair." He then traveled to the edge of the woods to pull back the curtain of leaves leading him to the outside. Cole noticed that his father turned back to look at them for a moment, then disappeared into the brush. She turned to him when he was out of earshot and began to sit down on the log, but Cole got scared for a second.

"Cole, your father and I have been talking and-."

"What about?"

"Well, I didn't tell him about what happened the night before, but we have been talking about something else. Well, I know we have been being a little cryptic, your father and I, but I hope to help you understand with a few little anecdotes. Will you indulge me?"

Patting the seat next to her, Cole immediately softened and took a seat next to his mother. "About what? And what are anecdotes?"

"Stories. About this place. What it means to me, what it should mean to you."

"This really isn't any better."

"Hush now and listen to your mother." Lilly said, softly demanding. Cole huffed, not in anger, but just in his own breed of childish frustration. She continued, taking in a deep and cleansing breath, adjusting in her seat. A wiggle that Cole knew all too well. She was preparing herself for something. He intended to listen as carefully as he could.

"This place…" She started epically with a wave of her hand to her surroundings that Cole followed with wondrous eyes. A mother, or master storyteller, at work. "This wellspring is a representation of life itself in a world that was created for us long ago. It was created by masters of great strength who could wield the very elements themselves. They controlled fire, ice, lightning, and more importantly the elements that appear before us here in these woods, water and earth."

"Water is free-flowing, unless bottled up, and shapes the places that it runs through over time. It comes and goes and gives nourishment to the plants and all the life that wishes to drink from it. And earth is the very foundation in which we live, and it with the water helps nature grow and change. Just like life, and it is the way of things in the world."

Lilly closed her eyes, and took another deep breath.

"This wellspring was created by those forces of good that made all of Ninjago and all who live here. The earth below us guides the water to its final destination, the ocean. It is the earth's fate to let it glide and let it be free to come and go as it pleases, to its destiny. But that doesn't mean that the water can't shape the earth either as it goes. And, though water will be pushed and pulled by the moon or a storm, the earth will always be under it in a never ending cycle. Supporting it all the way there."

The young boy thought about it for a minute, a lump in his throat. "Can you be my earth?"

She chuckles at his sentiment and turns to him with a gleaming white smile. "Of course, my tiny dancer. No matter where I am, I will always be your earth, Cole. Earth is the very element that can center you, ground you and lead you on, or you can even be the thing that does that for someone else." Cole let out a huff thinking of his father, his legacy, his line of work, and what that could mean. This story, or anecdote, to him was too all encompassing and as if by the connection that they had shared in the moment, she quickly moved to answer his quiet anguish.

"But don't let that cloud you. You let it out once in a while. Here even. Anytime you want, just say the word."

Cole thought on this and answered her back with a grin. "Okay, Mama."

She cleared her throat and nudged him on the shoulder and continued. "In fact, I used to come here to do that all the time. I would use this place every time I was absolutely… miserable." Cole's mother said, lost in thought, staring into nothing in particular. The side of her mouth turned up into a remembering kind of smile. "Do you remember your Grandfather?"

He had heard only a few stories of his grandfather, but hardly any of them were too grand, but he did remember one thing. "The general who fought in the Serpentine Wars?"

"The very same. I would hide from him whenever he got angry. I was a pretty angsty teenager back then…" She started to comb her fingers through his thick mess, soothingly scraping his tender scalp. "It was… where I met your father."

Easing out of his mother's ministrations, he turned upwards in disbelief. "Really?"

"Yes. He came to do some exploring, frustrated with a little bit of songwriter's block, and we found each other. We vented about everything, me about my father and him about his group, right here on this very log and that's the way it had been ever since. I have a lot of good… and bad memories here. It was where I always came when I was sad, or frustrated, or just a place to let it all out and just scream."

Cole couldn't help the feeling that tugged at his stomach. She was talking about life, and its cycles, and then anger management. Connecting whatever dots she had given him to no avail, he wriggled to escape from his mother's grasp and slowly turned his body all the way around the log to face her. "Why did you really bring me here, Mama?"

"I know the past few days I haven't been around, and I've noticed that you have been more and more distant from your father and your work. Why, you haven't drawn anything for me in weeks. Sweetheart, you were often so open and happy and warm. Is there something that you would like to tell me? Is it about the recital? …Or something else…? We are alone now."

He wanted to tell her about the series of everythings that clouded his idled brain. So the courage erupted from him like the waterfall into the spring. Cole said softly, "I don't… I don't think I want to dance for Pop anymore, Mom."

She seemed shocked, but not at all surprised. "Really? Why? Don't you still love doing it?"

"It's not like that, Mom. It's just… don't know what I'm doing it for. It used to be so easy to make him proud but-" He thought of the very thing that would make her understand and pulled out one of the vices of childlike hatred. "-now it's so hard and feels like nothing but homework. Something I have to do. And now…"

"Now what?"

"I just." Cole sighed, leaning into her again and retaining the comfortable position that he was in previous. "I don't know, Mom."

"Well, when you do know, whether it is now or far into the future, dancing or no, just know I'll be with you, no matter what changes. Every step of the way."

Confirmation from her was of the utmost importance when he practically said, and subtly begged her, "No matter what?"

"No matter what. And when you love something you do so strong, it will never feel like work and you'll never want to let it go." Lilly reassured him. She hugged him close to her on the log, her head resting on his. She tensed when she said, "But like the way things are in the world, you must let go of things that you had loved at some point. Feeling how you feel is all natural, and a part of growing up. It is all a circle, connected and balanced, like the water filling the wellspring, and the water in the wellspring to its destiny, the sea. Do you understand?"

"A little, Mom." He sighed and snuggled into her with his back, leaning his head into her neck.

"It's okay, sweetie." She said, with a kiss on his crown and placing her chin on his head. "You will understand… in time."

Cole shut his eyes, enjoying the moment of peace. He felt no impatience to go home, and no anticipation for his father's inevitable arrival, as his mother carted her callused fingers through his hair again once more. She cleared her throat after a minute of silence. It seemed a little phlegmy to him, but it was ignored by his mother asking another question.

"Can you do something for me, Cole?"

"Yeah."

"See those water lilies, floating in the wellspring?" His mother said, pointing out the destination. He nodded, she continued. "Could you get some for me? I want to show you something. We'll take them home with us."

"Sure! Okay." Lifting his leg over the side of the log, he got up quickly to gather the flowers for her at the other end of the pond. They were here, there, and everywhere, but he chose the best and the biggest, the water seeping into his shoes. Cole didn't care, for he did it for his mother and it was worth it if only for that reason alone. He tried to gather them quickly, very much aware that his father could approach any minute calling them to leave. Plus, Cole was interested in what other things Mama wanted to show or even tell him.

He gathered one, then a second, and a third, and he looked over each of them to see if they were perfect. He created his own procedure in his head on how to do so. If it was bigger than the others, they would get first pick. Then he would go by the color, the brightest was the best and he picked them up one by one, shook the errant water from the wellspring and wiped it down for good measure, gathering them under his arms.

In between the second and the third he heard a few small coughs in the distance. Cole stopped what he was doing, and in cautious alert he looked towards his mother who had her hand still closed over her mouth from the coughing. She looked up from her hand that had lowered from its position and she seemed a little alarmed but met his eyes with a reassuring smile. She waved at him gingerly and now with whatever agitated her having dissipated, he waved back with a smile of his own and returned to his task.

It wasn't for long.

He would pick up the sixth and seventh that met his specifications, and she startled him by coughing a few more times. And he ignored them. They just ate. She must have had something that didn't go down just right. Cole thought, and began picking them up again. But she didn't stop, and when he was done shaking the eighth of its water he heard a final retch and a soft thud. Cole's eyes widened at the sound. Gingerly, after a few seconds of waiting for another sound from his mother, he slowly turned around. The flowers immediately sank from his arms and back into the wellspring from the sight.

Lilly was lying down on her side off the log, eyes closed, motionless. Her hand was outstretched toward him and from that far distance, in her palm, he could see a smattering of red. It matched the singular red trail that ran down her cheek like drool. Cole was paralyzed with fear.

"Mom?" Nothing.

"MOM?" Louder this time. Still nothing.

"MOM!" He ran as fast as his legs could carry him to where she lay, his shoes heavy and sloshing to get to her and started to nudge her awake. The music he imagined for himself died off in his head with every shake of her unconscious form. He would attempt to do this over and over, harder and harder, but to no avail nor success, adding this new failure to the list of all the rest.

"DAD! DAD!" Cole screamed. He coughs. "PAPA, HURRY!" Louder now. He strains to do so. "MAMA'S HURT! MAMA'S HURT!" Cole coughed again and again as he yelled for him. As she faded more and more out of consciousness, Cole felt his voice finally crack. It was broken to pieces at the wellspring and was never the same again.

—

Cole, The Present

Cole, at this particular moment in time, had never felt stronger or more at peace in his life. His relationship with his father fully mended, and finally discovering the true depths of his power. He felt as indestructible as his new powers made him to be. He could control the very earth below him without the help of the Scythe of Quakes. Cole had lifted a full railing of stage lights by himself like they were nothing but trash to be thrown away. But, most important of all, The Triple Tiger Sashay.

The move that irreparably stagnated Cole and his father's relationship not only had been done in front of an audience, but on national, not to mention live, television. He could only dream of seeing the faces of his quartet now. Cole imagined them all with mouths agape, eyes wide and unblinking in disbelief. It softened the remaining hardness inside himself and all he could really do was smile. Or lift a semi-truck and throw it as far and as hard as he could.

It was almost night again, and no one wasn't on the deck to greet him, so he came outside alone and looked beyond the rolling grassy field that rested on the edge of Cole's hometown and into the mountain range that nestled it inside. His eyes never left its center where he knew that his old home resided and Cole could only think about what his father said before he left.

—

He was packing the Scythe of Quakes in Nya's 'instrument case' and smiled to himself. All of the golden weapons were still in the case, except the Shurikens of Ice. That, with Zane's connection to his weapon, would turn into the ride that would fly up to the ship that was parked at the other end of the town waiting for them to return. To the ship. To Nya.

His thoughts stopped him from snapping the case shut just yet and Cole softly grazed the felt interior, the same as the seat of her mech, with his hand. That night of looking at the stars, a playful chase with a letter, and all of the agonizing over forcing her away in every way... Cole couldn't wait to see her face again, to let her know all of it was worth it. He was leaving his father with more confidence now. Because of the show. Because of her. He closed it and snapped it shut.

Grabbing it by the handle, he looked at his surroundings for one last time. Cole, in his boyhood room, looked around in his place from wall to wall. He saw the crayon etchings of him and his family he used to draw, stuck to the walls with clear tape. The old toys and bobbles that he left behind before he left years ago. And he sighed, letting the memories all go. He walked to the door, closed it and bounded down the stairs to the boys and to say goodbye to his father.

"Hey! Look who finally decided to come down!" Jay said, exuberant, as Cole arrived at the bottom of the stairs. It didn't have a hint of annoyance, but he imagined that Jay was just in a hurry to see Nya again. He did get the call that she had arrived earlier in the day after the show. He felt the same way, so Cole let it slide. "You ready to go? Nya's gonna get worried about us if we take too long." Bingo.

"Jay, lay off. It's not everyday we get to visit with family." Kai said, playfully batting Jay's shoulder.

"Unlike Mr. and Mrs. Walker. It seems we make their acquaintance more than once a week." Zane chimed in. The rest of the group, excluding Jay, soared into uproarious laughter. "Did I say a joke?" More laughter.

"Let's just go." Jay said. "Got the weapons in the case?"

"Yeah. All accounted for."

"Good." Grabbing the case from Cole's hand, Jay then opened the door leading the other boys to head out. "Got your shurikens ready, Zane?"

"I do, indeed."

"Okay. Well c'mon, then." Jay gestured to the rest of the team and headed out the door followed by Zane.

A hand rested on Cole's shoulder and shook him a little as he saw his dad approaching the door to see him off, the tap-tap-tapping of his cane getting louder and louder. Kai began to speak. "Hey, take your time alright. I'll talk him into waiting a little bit longer. I'll see ya in a minute." Kai let go, with a tap to his shoulder and went out. He called out to Jay before the door shut completely. "Hey, Jay, give me that thing. I don't want you to lose this like you do with your other stuff…"

Cole then faced his father head on when he slowly approached the door, hands in his pockets. Casual. As a stoic Lou Brookestone stopped in front of the door handle, he placed his hands on the golden top of his 'rehearsal' cane that supported him up. He held his gaze to the shine of the ball, the gleam bringing back visions dancing in his head. He spoke quickly and all at once to ignore it.

"How's the foot injury, Pop? I'm sorry about that. Haven't had the chance to tell you."

"I'll be fine. I will be over it soon I hope. Thank you."

Silence. Too much of it.

"Pop I-" He was stopped by his father raising his hand. I guess some things never change.

"Wait. I want to do some talking."

"Okay. Sure. Go ahead."

"There is something I haven't told you yet. Away from the other boys. I'm still… In shock. Of all of this." He sighed to himself in resignation as he listed off his grievances. "You dropped out of Marty Oppenheimer's. Lied to me for years about being somewhere you weren't. Only hearing about you from only a few letters over the course of years. Years. And I-" Cracks were beginning to show in his stoic exterior. "I-"

"Pop, I can explain."

"Don't. I know what it's because of. It was mostly because of me. When you started losing interest in performing, and the show dates kept piling up, and I left you at home as alone as I was. To do all the work yourself? Those responsibilities shouldn't have been on you. To be bluntly honest, I would have been scared, too. When your mother was gone, I held on too tight. Too tight to my dreams and not your own. It was something your mother would have never wanted for you. She would have wanted this." Cole's father gestured to all of him. "And… I'm sorry."

Saying that he was a hero the day before, in front of his comrades, that was one thing. But an 'I'm sorry' after all of the years of being scared and alone, was a revelation. He had the overwhelming urge to oblige. "I'm sorry, too."

More silence.

"Cole, I have to know." His father said, with a tap of his cane. "How long were you at Marty's? Four years too much for you, huh?" His dad's complexion grew to a ghastly white. Cole offered an explanation after a gulp.

"A semester." Cole said. "I found Wu a year after I quit. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I closed myself off. I know. From you and from everyone else. I am to blame. I was wrong to keep it from you. Mom would be so disappointed." He averted his eyes from him, looking down. A knot crawled up his throat, tightening it in grief.

"Well, I wouldn't think that Cole. Speaking of which, I want to give you something before you go."

Cole lifted his head to see Lou's left hand let go of his cane which retreated into the back pocket of his slacks. Cole was confused, but intrigued. What would he give to me that would be so special, and so soon after the show? Nothing prepared him for what his father had given him with an outstretched hand. Wrapped in plastic was a chocolate cake, Mom's recipe, ganache frosting and all.

"I found her recipe. I didn't find the tags she would often write to you on, but I hope this was enough. I made it myself, before you all went on to perform. I know I'm not the best at cooking, but I wanted you to have a piece of us to carry with you, to home. And for you to know that we'll always be with you."

Combing his eyes over the saran wrapped cake Cole said, "It means the world to me, Pop." as the man in front of him firmly gripped his shoulder, tears starting to flow.

Wistfully, his father replied. "And your mother, Cole. She would be so proud of the man standing before me today."

Tears of joy escaped the corner of his eyes before hugging his father and bolting out the door to the others, leaping onto Zane's glider and speeding away.

—

Startling him from his thoughts, from somewhere up above him in the wind, he heard the sound of Nya clearing her throat.

"So, you do know how to dance?" He turned his head to see her come out of the main room of the ship and descend down the stairs. She had her hands behind her back, and he noticed the cheeky way she wouldn't look him in the eye, but towards the sky. He couldn't help himself but think it was actually adorable. "And pretty good I might add, but-" When she made it halfway down she looked him in the eyes, and flipped her hair teasingly out of her face. "-it looks like you lied to me again."

Knowing what was coming Cole chuckled to himself as he hung his head with a small peaceful smile, "I did, didn't I?" He turned all the way around and leaned his back against the hull of the ship, his elbows perched on the bow, hands nonchalantly hanging down by his waist.

"So, about your dancing and your dad…" she said, finally making it to the deck and walking towards him. "That's where you learned that 'body conditioning exercise', or do I have to probe you some more?"

"No, no need." The exercise. Thinking about the past, Cole looked out into the rolling green field again and he spoke absentmindedly. "My dad taught me that a long time ago, when I would be nervous about messing up. Peer pressure can really be a thorn in your side."

Nya came to stand next to him after a moment to do the same. "Did you have a lot of it?"

"Hello, Royal Blacksmiths? I've seen plenty of royalty in my time because of him. Though at a distance." Cole sighed. "I had a lot to live up to."

A hush rushed over them both, and Cole could only guess that she was thinking of replying. At the corner of his eye he could see her do a double take, opening her mouth to say something but only two words came out. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's okay. Really." Cole said. He was appreciative and responded only with a peaceful smile, away from her and into the horizon.

"I know. I see it in your face."

He was taken aback for a moment, and searched her eyes for answers. "Really?"

She turned to look into his face, leaning against the bow of the ship. "Well, you tend to notice things when you're surrounded by enough people who look like they have had an awakening so large that they are entirely new people. Unlike some."

"So, you've seen Kai?" Cole asked with a laugh with a glance in the direction of the steering wheel and he looked out to the distance once more. "By the way. How's he holding up? Kai wouldn't tell any of us."

"As much as he's been handling it ever since he heard about the prophecy. He also told me it was mostly about me…"

"And what happened with Garmadon…"

She started playing with her hands, a nervous tick he assumed. "Exactly."

For what felt like a long time of waiting for the next person to speak, Cole could feel her across from him wanting to say something again. Anything. Her presence in his atmosphere was calling for him to start, to continue picking her mind. Bringing up Garmadon and Kai more felt like a no go, and when started to feel her turn and back away, her arm brushed up against his elbow. He didn't know if the gooseflesh that was forming on all his limbs was from the cool air softly tossing both of their black heads of hair in the wind, or the anticipation of what was next. He turned towards the green, green grass again, trying to ignore it.

Just be cool, Cole. Be cool.

"Well, enough stalling, I think you know why I came out here and what comes next. I told you. You owe me, and I've thought about it all day."

She's been thinking about me? All day? What do I say? What do I say? His mind was swimming in circles and, quick on his feet and steady as a stone, Cole, to seem aloof and easy, interrupted with a jab. "Wow. You were thinking of me all day? I didn't think I had the pleasure, or the privilege."

Nya's flustered, Cole can tell, not knowing what to do next. "I just- really wanted to cash in on my prize." He assumes she shared the feeling as Nya started faltering in her speech.

I'm a prize now? Gotta get her (and me) to calm down somehow… I know. Jay. He hid his beleaguered sigh by relaxing on the wood of the ship again. "And what shall your prize be, Lady Lightning?"

He saw the hint of red that began to sweep the swell of her cheeks, her own two organic Ninjago pink and fresh Mcintosh apples. That did it. A silence hung in the wind for a moment and it lazily tossed the edge of her bobbed hair. He expected her to say whatever she wanted with a nervous tone. What he got was the opposite.

"Teach me how to dance."

"What?" He gripped the wood of the ship.

"Teach me something. Anything."

Cole floundered for the right words to say. He wanted to do this. More than anything. Cole flipped through the catalog of all of the dances he had ever been taught. He told her the truth. "Nya, there are a lot of things I could teach you. You're gonna have to be more specific."

"Well… I am new to this, and I've always wanted to learn." Nya slowly stepped closer, the adorable cheekiness he found on the top of the stairs returned to claim her features. "How about… something slow?"

Something slow? The thought and how close she was already made him short circuit. He forgot everything he ever learned. "Something slow, huh?" Cole asked, hiding his now shaking hands.

She retreated for a small moment, reading the situation. Her face fell, her smile had slowly faded and was nowhere to be seen. It was not the way Cole wanted her to respond. She was turning and walking away, gingerly kicking her foot and staring at the ground. "Well, if you don't want to, that's fine Cole. You don't have to, I shouldn't have asked. You just got on good terms with your father and dancing just-"

"No!"

"What?" Nya turns to him, doe-eyed. All of her disappointed emotions had exited her face, and her excitement had flooded back like raging river water by the time she turned around. Is she trying to kill me?

He cleared his throat. "I mean, uh. Yes. I did just get on good terms with him and my past. But, no, I still want to do this. You said something slow and simple right?"

Her smile widened exponentially. Nya gestured her hands out to him. "Whatever you want."

"Okay. Let me think." He pretended to think incredibly hard in front of her. So, this is happening. Okay Cole, slow and simple, slow and simple. Cole let out a calming breath, feeling the wind against his face to find balance. Cole thought of his mother and father, when he was small. When everything began. A waltz. Perfect. Cole snapped his fingers. "Got it."

"Got one?" Nya asked, excited.

"Yep. It's pretty simple, just four easy steps. And if you want we can get a little more advanced. You in?"

"Okay. I'm game. So, what do we do first?" If she had a tail, Cole was sure she'd be wagging it. "Just assume I know nothing. Oh, who am I kidding? I do know nothing." Nya said, in quick succession.

He laughed at her excited eagerness. "Alright, alright. Here we go." Nya came closer, and Cole thought of something else he had in mind to do first. He held himself back for a moment. "Wait."

"What? Are you backing out?"

"No. I just thought of something. You were wondering if I had met royalty, right? Well, how would you like to know what we would have to do first?"

"Uh. Yeah! Stop teasing and get on with it, I can't take it."

"Okay. Um." He shook the nerves out of his system. "Well, the first thing you do is bow and curtsy to your partner."

"What? Are you serious?" Nya said, slighting the process.

"You're the one who said you wanted to learn. It's just proper decorum."

She sighed to the sky with a small stomp of her foot and curtsied, but all in one quick gesture with a roll of her eyes. Cole, to tease her and pull her more out of her comfort zone, tsked and clicked the roof of his mouth. Shaking his head, he said, "Uh, uh, uh. Such disrespect. Do you want to be kicked out of the ballroom by royalty?"

"Cole!" Nya said, frustrated. Cole snickered at her response.

"Well, do you?" He asked calmly and teasingly.

She crossed her arms over herself and thought about it for a moment, and Cole caught Nya as she quickly bit her lip before she replied. "No, I don't."

"Okay, then. Be serious."

"But I don't want it to be serious, I want it to be fun."

"This is fun. I'm just making it more interesting." He held out a hand for her to take, a gesture of trust.

She gave him a questioning glare as she looked at his hand. Her eyes switched from his to he hand and gingerly grabbed it.

He then slowly drew her closer and whispered, as if he was revealing a closely guarded secret, into her ear with the added flourish of looking side to side as if they were in a crowded ballroom. "Well, right now we are pretending we're meeting and being around royalty. Don't you want to make a good first impression?"

She answered him back with a jab. "Better or worse than when I met the team for the first time?"

He pulled back to let his gaze bore into hers. "Oh, a lot better. Much better." The hand he had held out to her was now placed on his shoulder, the proper position to continue the dance in the scenario that he started to create with his mind. She let him lead, with no hesitation in her appearance to stop him from resuming the lesson. "You know me now, and I have years more experience in this than dragons, overlords or skeletons. So, really you have-" Cole then placed his other hand in the correct position on her back, below the shoulder blade and tugged her closer. "nothing to worry about."

He caught her red cheeks again and her tight-lipped expression, and he smiled a little and resumed what he was doing.

"Okay, we'll skip the curtsy and bow until after the lesson, then we'll try it out for real. Here is where it gets a little tricky. Now, the key to a great dance is your posture, how you look to those outside of the dance is just as important as the dance itself. Keeps you from pulling any muscles or anything else. And we lead from the hips. So, our hips are going forward and against each other, like this."

Cole stepped forward and did what he said they would do, and used the hand on her upper back to do so. "And don't forget to stand up straight, chest out." Nya nodded and adjusted in his hold, and he was impressed with her form and decided to give her a compliment. "That's great. Now I'll be using the hand on your back to lead you where we need to go on the dance floor in front of everyone."

"Ah. Okay." They stayed in that position for a little while, and while Cole knew what the next step was going to be, he was simply enjoying the moment, and the silence that filled the air was interrupted by another jab. "So, are you gonna teach me some steps now, or are we just gonna stand here?"

He stuttered for a small second, but came into his own. "Yeah, I will, I'm just remembering how to show you the steps. I am leading the girl in the pair, you, in doing what I'm doing, just backwards."

"Heh. Just like life." Nya snidely commented.

"Yeah. I was always told that art does imitate life and vice versa so, I suppose so." Cole looked toward the ground, to look at his feet and took a breath. He would ignore what she said and move on. "Next are the steps, there are three to match the beat of the song. Your steps are these:" With each instruction he pushed off with his leading arm against her back and moved forward as she followed the instruction, slowly but surely. "A step back with your right foot, a step to the left with your left foot, and then place your right foot next to your left and step together. Then, you step forward with your left, cross with your right, and meet your feet together with your left. And then we start over."

Nya responds in kind with the steps, trying to get used to the new move set Cole taught her. "Ah. I got it. Okay."

They did it over and over again on the dock to the time of the music and surroundings he created in his head. The visions and illusions were slowly more and more realized as he led her in his arms through each of the three beat combinations in the starlight. They were never interrupted by the sight of Nya's tongue peeking through her lips in concentration, but by the many times he caught her trying to stare down at her feet.

"Don't do that." He took the hand that was behind her back and raised her head to meet his gaze. "No, no, don't do that. Keep your eyes straight. Right on me." He held her the right way again, and she resumed. "That's it! You're doing great." Then, just as soon as the praise had been uttered, Nya stepped on his foot. "Ow!"

"Well, it's your fault! You told me not to look down!"

"Well, then let me lead you. It's important to have the other person dancing guide you where you need to go. You are walking backwards, after all. All you have to do is trust that I won't steer you off the edge of the ship. "

"I do. I'm ready." Nya said, holding up their position, with a better posture this time, ready to lead with her hips.

"Good."

Cole then separated from her, and Nya was apparently confused. Cole bowed to her and with a smile. "Are you ready to dance for royalty?"

"I think I will be." Nya said, going into a curtsy that was perfect, and with no snide comments about doing it, or even a mistake.

"Very good." Cole said and then they started again.

Cole could tell she is more relaxed and loose through the current ease of her breathing. He started adding moves to her repertoire, like a spin that he guided her into with his hand. Nya let him lead, and relinquished her frustration. And before long, in front of her and into the night, he started singing out the music that came to him freely to keep them on time.

Their waltz made their way around the deck, hugging the edges of the bow. And before he knew it, she kept up with him, never being off beat. Well, it wasn't entirely true. She was still a little clumsy on the second beat of a measure, but she always would catch up. After a while, they had gotten into their own rhythm. A spin here, a twirl there, and soon their moves became slower and slower as the night moved on around them.

"This is actually really nice. And fun. I shouldn't have waited and done this sooner." Nya looked up at him with teasing eyes and a nudge to his shoulders. "Wait, so you did this all of the time? I bet with a lot of other girls, too."

He wondered why she would ever say that to him. Maybe to pry him for more of his romantic past, or his past in general, but the romantic half was nonexistent. So he answered her, not giving her exactly what he thought she wanted. "For ballroom, sure."

"Well, you must've had some girls falling all over you."

He doubled down with a short, sarcastic laugh. "You'd think that wouldn't you?"

She shook her head with squinting eyes in a face that Cole could only describe as disbelief. "You're serious?"

"Yep. Not enough time. School, rehearsal, chores, sleep, and repeat. No time, and I was nothing if not professional when I was with them. And to be honest, no one had ever really interested me, anyway. And I wasn't really blessed with times like that. Ya know. Just fun."

"Well, I'm sure if you didn't your friends would still be impressed."

"I didn't have a lot of friends… either."

"What? Impossible. I know you don't get into your feelings without a poke or two, but you get along with the others so well and-"

"Let's just say, before I left to join Wu and be a ninja, I was alone. At my house, when I snuck out… A lot." Cole thought about the mountains he climbed, the assignments he missed, the people he ignored. The person he missed the most. He then swayed along to the slow music in his head, zoning in and out from the company he kept in his arms, technique almost forgotten. Eyes welling, throat clogging.

"Sore spot? You want to drop it?"

He shook his head a little to focus and swallowed the memories down for another time that he couldn't count that day. He pleaded to her with his eyes that he forced himself to dry. "Please?"

She gave Cole a reassuring smile. "Okay."

Nya cleared her throat. "So, off topic, but I heard you're indestructible now?"

He quickly tried to hide his sadness with a joke, as much as Nya was, and he separated from her to flex and pose for her. "Yeah, and super strength." He strained with a flex of his arms over his torso as he said the word 'strength' and she rolled her eyes. Cole fretted a little with the idea that he didn't make her laugh, but she was smiling anyway, so he thought that was enough. "Yep. It did a lot of good today."

"Saving people?" Nya gradually stepped closer to resume their dance again.

"And saving myself."

"That's good to hear."

"Want to hear the specifics?"

"No. I got the whole story from the boys on the ship. And from watching the show today. But…" He saw Nya's eyes searching her soul for something to say and how to say it. "I want to ask you another question."

"Anything." He said genuinely.

"This… wasn't the only reason I came down here. It's just… a couple of things you've said and… done recently. It kind of bothers me."

Cole's eyes widened in full panic mode. At that moment he wanted to change his entire being. He had just gained the power of changing and moving the earth itself and being indestructible. How could I learn to change myself in the matter of milliseconds instead? He swallowed down the lump that was starting to clump in his throat.

"Um. Can you give me an example?"

"What was with- Oh, forget it."

"Please, Nya, you're killing me here. This has got to come out now or I have another thing holding me back! I just got my powers, you know."

With a playful scoff, she jabbed him in the shoulder with her hand. "It's just a few things I've noticed since this whole 'Green Ninja' situation." Her face fell for a moment, and Cole couldn't help but search through the events of the last few days that would've caused her to worry about him.

"Well. Okay. I don't know what was going on, but when you lost the Fangblade at the amusement park, I think I saw something… I shouldn't have."

He knew exactly what she was talking about. They kept their stances, but stopped dancing entirely. "Really? What was it?" Cole hid the feeling of dread fairly well.

Nya had a face that wanted to weigh the options she had in front of her. She was tense again. "I saw you in the weight room. You were doing your lifts, and I really should have left, not to disturb you. But then you looked, I don't know, on edge? You took your bandages off of your hands and threw them at the mirror."

He knew what she was talking about too well. Cole gulped.

"Were you angry about failing that day at Mega Monster Amusement Park? You seemed a little on edge after everything was over with. And doing the Triple Tiger Sashay today, and what I heard from the guys, you don't really like losing do you? Maybe you and Kai aren't so different, you know, about your 'True Potential' and how you were going to find it."

Cole breathed a sigh of relief. That was part of it. Other than you. "Yeah. That's exactly it. I was a little angry."

"I just want you to know that you don't have to have the weight of all the earth on your shoulders. It wasn't all your fault. You seem so distant but then, to me, you randomly just open up. And I know I don't do that for you, do I?"

Cole wished it was different, but he told her the truth. "No. You don't." He said, dejected.

"I'm just so confused. I didn't come and help you, and I didn't say anything. And it bothers me because I just didn't know what to do about it? I just… don't know who you are to me?"

"But, we could be like everyone says we all are, right? Like Zane said a long time ago? Brothers and our new sister."

"That's the other thing about it. You said that to me the day Zane went off to find the even called me sister, and then you said you wished you had a sister like me at the amusement park. It was… It felt weird." She punctuated the last three words as if she was covered in slime.

"What is so weird about it?"

"Well, Zane is more of a friend than anyone else I have. A pal and someone to talk about machines with. That's not what we are, or even what Jay and I are right now. And brother just doesn't- It just doesn't sit well or feel right!"

This was getting a little too confusing for him right about now. "I'm sorry. So, I'm not a brother to you?"

"No. That's not you." she shook her head. "Not in the way I see Kai. Brothers are supposed to annoy you, and he's a lot more annoying than you are, and a lot less protective."

"Maybe he really just wants what's best for you. As sappy and predictable as it sounds."

"I can handle myself."

"I know you can."

Then Nya's eyes became sadder and sadder, as her questioning look made him want to dive into her soul. "Maybe you're my…" The words hung in the air and all Cole could do was just wait for them in agony. Your what? "...my person?" She sighed in defeat. He didn't like being defeated anymore. "I don't know what that really means, but-"

"I think I do." Cole posed. She looked up with some semblance of hope. "Maybe it means we go to each other to open up? To vent? To be honest without the fear of being judged or hurt? That no matter how much the world around us has become smaller and smaller, the bigger things will come to us easier. Something to come to, to lead us somewhere else. Like, a stream that leads to the ocean. Like…" Cole winced a little. "...a wellspring."

"Hmm. Well, I don't know what a wellspring is, but… I think I get it." The questioning looks that she had given him for the past few minutes were long gone, it disappeared slowly and then all at once. "I think that's it. Yeah. I like it. Kai is my brother, Zane is my friend, Jay is my boyfriend, and you are my person."

"Oh, I know what it is and where one is right now, maybe I'll show one to you sometime. Maybe once all of this fighting is done."

"I'll take you up on that. But it all sounds like Wu and the others think that it will be a while before that happens. I just hope you are okay with giving up all that fun stuff you did back then to do all of this. I mean all this isn't exactly like working with royalty."

Cole thought long and hard about what he would say next. But the thoughts of the wellspring, those memories were nestled next to his mother, and he stated the words that she had said to him to give Nya that assurance. "Someone once said to me, a long time ago, that when I'm doing something I love it will never feel like work."

"Really? And you think all this isn't work now?"

"Now I'm free to do something I love, and truthfully… It never feels like work. And I am always around lots of people…" Cole thought of the angry reflection in the mirror that he couldn't look at anymore in the weight room. He questioned whether he could say the next few choice words without his heart completely imploding. "...I love who happen to feel the same." He finished gently.

"You do?" Nya's smile was wide, but not in a way that gave Cole pause, but a little dose of hope. "I'm glad you feel that way, and you're right. I do feel the same when I'm Samurai X. Helping people. The people I love."

He internally sighed in relief, and they started to sway again.

"When did you become such a wise man?"

"Maybe you just rub off on me in that way."

Nya scoffed. "Thank you. And for teaching me the waltz, Cole. I appreciate this." His chest swelled.

"You're welcome. Say, I should really lie to you more often." Cole said to alleviate the moment with a joke again, the sweat started to trickle forth, rolling down his temple. She looked up at him with a gaze that simmered, adding a cocked brow and Cole went stiff again. "Oh gosh. I didn't mean it like that. You know what I mean. I just thought that we should really do it again sometime. You know, also when this Green Ninja, Garmadon and Great Devourer stuff is all over with."

Nya asked, "Does it really have to be that long or short of a wait?" stepping even closer into their embrace, but for a moment, Cole could feel her tense in his arms. Then her gaze went past his head, towards the main hull of the ship. Quickly she added to her already loaded question. "Maybe you can… teach Jay how to do this with me sometime?"

The swaying and the music in his head that had accompanied the evening came to a complete stop again like the dreaded sound of a record scratch. Though it was more akin to him as nails on a chalkboard. Maybe even broken glass. The new and questioning smile on her face, the words that left her lips were genuine. They accompanied her starry eyes, reflecting the moonlight. The arms that remained around his neck had begun to feel as though both weighed a ton. He looked toward the wheel of the ship with a quick whip of his head.

"No."

"Why? You can do it, can't you?" A pause came from leaving room for her to think, then Nya's eyes began to tighten with a playful smirk pulling at her lips. She removed her arms from his neck once more and prodded him again to poke at his sides. "You're not scared, are you?"

He backed away, trying to contain the unwelcome joyful laughter that came with it, along with the absence of his music in his head. "No. Haha." Cole pushed her hands away from him successfully so that he could make his case. Cole took his stance in three statements with a clear and empty head. "He said my dad was worse than Master Wu." A truth. "So, I might be a little too hard for him to handle." A certainty. "And no, Nya. I'm not scared." A lie. He hoped she didn't catch it. Cole guessed she didn't from the way she resumed their position from earlier.

"Well, even if you are, you're still a great teacher."

"I'm glad you feel that way, but… well… you wanted to do this for fun, a deal. And if I know Jay he would want to be perfect to impress you. My approach would be different from you, it would be about him being serious. I have to be critical and be honest with him, and I don't know how he could take that from me for a long time anyway." He then waited for a response that he hoped would be understanding.

"I guess you do have a point." She sighed in disappointment and said, "Okay, Cole. I understand." She stepped forward and pressed her forehead on his chest in frustration and put her arms around his neck again, holding her to him, and Cole felt the vibrations of her deep voice when she said, "Ugh. Why do you have to be so right all the time?"

He let out a little chortle that was catching at the lump in his throat. "Heh. Well, that's nice to hear, but I wouldn't say I'm right all the time." Cole said, his hand grazing her back in a comforting gesture. She never moved from her position for some time, and the swaying slowly, but surely, resumed. He tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to quell the beating of his bleeding heart. "But I wasn't the one that was right today, Nya. It was you." A questioning look from her came up to him. "I was incredibly wrong today. You were… only trying to help. And, wow, did you. I'm so sorry I snapped at you. It will never happen again."

Her eyes were glazed over by the stars and the moonlight above them, as the swaying slowly came to a stop. The slow music grew louder in his head. A small wind blew a strand of hair over her eyes and immediately used his hand to guide it back in its place. As his hand came to rest against her cheek after the good deed was done, an arm left his neck and her hand kept it there on his forearm. "I… believe you…"

"Good." he said softly. Cole could feel the sweat breaching the skin of his forehead start to trickle down again. A feeling he hadn't felt before crept up his spine, sending shocks and chills through him. "Do you trust me, too?"

"Of course."

"Then, let's finish it off with a grand finale."

He lifted one of her hands from his neck to resume the position that they started dancing in. Hips together, Cole's hand on her back, Nya's hand settling back to the place on his shoulder. Closer to his neck this time. He didn't pay much attention, for they glided across the deck of the ship again, in their ¾ time with the music that Cole played in his head. But this time, it was different. In the honor of spontaneity, he then started singing it out loud again and with a smile she started to harmonize with him. It was admittedly terrible, but neither seemed to care.

There were no feet stepping on other feet, no awkward breaths and nothing else left unspoken between them. Just the night, the stars, the moon, the ship, and each other. They spun over and over again, Cole leading them around near the bow of the ship. Then, an idea. A marvelous idea. "Alright, now get ready for it!"

She stopped her singing voice. "Cole, get ready for what?"

He let go of her, grabbed her hand, twirled her around and brought her closer. But instead of their stance he placed both his hands under her arms at her waist, and counted it out with his makeshift music. "One, two,-"

"What are you-" First she gasped, and then Nya giggled like a schoolgirl.

"Three!" He lifted her to the sky, so easily it felt like she weighed nothing, and he sang out a note that rang clear and true. She tilted her head to the sky, arms in the air with the biggest smile on her face that he had ever seen, and her bright laughter pierced the ether with the wind tousling her hair. Euphoria. She placed her hands on his shoulders to brace herself as he turned her in his hold for three sets of ¾ measures in slow circles. Then when it was done he slowly, agonizingly, brought her lower and lower to the ground.

Her arms were sliding all the way around his neck now, her chest to his, resuming her musical hum which he followed. Then, as if she could now guess his every move, he slowly dipped her down. She removed one arm from his neck, her hand holding a position against his chest. And when they slowly came back up again, their song stopped. They met for a moment to gaze in each other's eyes and, somehow, Cole knew exactly what the next thing would be. He could feel a new pull, as if their heads were coming together by some invisible string. It tightened and tightened.

Then, from high above them: "Hey, Nya!"

In an instant that invisible string was snapped in two and shredded to ribbons when she separated herself from him in a jump. His arms, and the space between them and the now gone moment, were empty. Cole looked up into her face. In a shocking turn of events, as she turned her head up to the hull she looked red, and he couldn't help but follow her eyes up to the voice that was above them both.

"Yeah, Jay?" She called out. Jay approached the railing.

"I think I got it somewhat fixed! I don't have static anymore, but I can receive signals! Maybe I can reach Wu with a little help fine tuning the satellite."

"That's awesome Jay! I'll help you with that. No problem. "

"Hey, Cole! Whatcha doing? Haven't seen you in a bit. You alright?"

"Uh. Yeah! The night. It's pretty. And I'm just, ya know, hanging out on the deck here." He said, nervously. And, ya know, just dancing with your girlfriend.

"Oh, well, Zane is halfway done with the food. I was just about to help Kai set the table." Then he turned around back into the main room. He was almost on his way to head out of the door, but called for Nya once again. "You coming?"

"Yes! I will be. Um. I'll be right on up in a minute!"

"See you then, my darling." And then Jay left with an overdramatic bow, and went through the door.

Jay's presence was felt through him as Nya kept looking upwards toward the hull of the ship at the railing where he had once stood. Cole broke the ice. "Hey. Nya?"

Nya didn't move. "Hm?"

She turned to him, looking down. "You look a little startled. Are you alright? "

"Oh, um. It's nothing." She rubbed her left arm up and down, still staring at the ground. Nya wouldn't look at him in the face when she continued. "Well, uh, I better go and help Jay and see what's up with the signals and then get some dinner."

"Sure, okay. See you." Nya started walking away, and Cole turned his back to her to go back to the bow of the ship. As if nothing ever happened. Like what had happened was never real. "Hey." He turned to her to see what she wanted. "I'll save you a place at the table by me and Jay, okay?"

"Thank you. But… I'll probably be a little late. I'm gonna stay out here a little while longer. I liked all of this fresh air tonight."

"Cole Brookestone being late for supper. That's something I've never heard before." Nya said, walking backwards. "Sure, Cole. I'll tell Zane and the others." she added, finally walking straight up the stairs. Nya turned her head to see his face one more time before she ran inside. "And Cole, I'm glad you're okay. And thank you for this. I had… fun."

So, it was real. Good. He nodded, and Nya went up the stairs to the hull a little faster than he had liked.

As soon as she was gone from his line of sight, Cole turned towards the horizon in the distance, placing his hands and locking his arms on the bow of the ship. The only thing he could see in the darkness now were the outlines of the mountains. Cole was forced, again, to remember the day that his mother took him to the wellspring. The loneliness, paired with the years of longing for something better, before her sickness slowly came to claim her, it was quite dastardly and eerily familiar. As grim as this had been to him after a moment of such slow and in-the-present happiness, he thought of a quick time of peace and the running water. His mother's deep and comforting voice was repeating words in his head that he repeated into Nya's ear. And now the music he hadn't heard since then, not in a long time, had now returned.

He didn't tell Nya the reason why he was alone so much, that Lilly being gone was the final reason why he didn't sing and dance anymore. Then quitting Oppenheimer's after finding something better. Soon, but not yet, Cole thought. The as-a-matter-of-factly tone of his thoughts disappointed him. He agonized over it with a sigh to himself, his head hanging down.

This mountain range in particular was one he had traversed through pain and wind and rain, escaping to the mountains from his problems and his responsibilities and testing the skill of strength. In the time of lying to his father, he occupied his mind from his unsatisfied hunger, increasing his numbness from the exertion, battling the sleet and snow on the mountain tops. Climbing them higher and higher to meet a man and meet his destiny, or more succinctly, a search for a destination. A purpose? Perhaps.

Cole at this moment, looking into that mountain range, realized they were not too far from that very wellspring. And the waterfall, the water lilies… All of it now had approached in his mind's eye like a premonition, or even like a ghost. He didn't want to go back and relive those moments he was miserable and would yell at the sky, naively believing in his adolescence that was where his mother's spirit had come to reside. For a sign. For an answer.

It was a place he hadn't visited since she was gone. Before Nya. Before the Ninja. Before Wu.

He wanted to sing again instead and Cole wanted to go to the wellspring to do it and just cry out in the brisk breeze, like he had done before Wu had found him about to do the same on the tallest mountains of Ninjago. As he watched the emptiness of the rolling field he knew. He just couldn't do it. But if he had the chance or choice, Cole would still let the heavens, or whoever or whatever was up there, know what he wanted and how he wanted it. The true freedom of being in someone's arms again, and to finally be in loving chains.

That music that he created in his head during their dance continued on, increasing its volume ten-fold to a fever pitch. It was loud and almost unbearable, hitting its zenith after Nya walked away. And for the third time with them alone together so late into the night, Cole knew he didn't want to let her go. A realization hit him with the force of a mighty wind that made him viciously grip the rim of the ship, almost crushing the wood to fractured splinters. Cole knew he must do and it pulverized him. The very thought wrung his stomach into knots and twisted his panging and pumping heart. And now under the moon and the stars, and hearing that harmony of harps and horns and strings, did he realize what his mother truly meant that day at the wellspring.

Cole pulled out the cake from his front pocket, opened the plastic, and looked it over. His stomach growled and he took a bite. He was too late, but he stayed vigilant in the darkness like a knight going into battle alone. At attention and on full alert he took a silent stand.

If not your brother, or your friend, then your person I will be Nya. A ghost or a shadow? Your support and your rock? I'll stay away for your sake and his. Instead I will be whoever or whatever you want. Whatever the case may be. No matter what.

The words on the streets and it's on the news.

I'm not gonna teach him how to dance with you.

He's got two left feet and he bites my moves.

I'm not gonna teach him how to-

Dance, dance, dance, dance!

—

A/N: Oh, boy. Don't you just love foreshadowing…?

There are a few people I need to shout out who were from Twitter and Tumblr for the wonderful ideas that are incorporated into this chapter and the story of Wellspring:

On Tumblr, roantheboat, their headcanon of Cole climbing mountains and yelling to vent his frustrations in the world and making him more closed off. Thank you for the post and the suggestion.

And for Twitter, I put out a contest for ideas on my account to incorporate their headcanons into the story and the winners are as follows:

Leo, Wavey_Kirby: "This is a very sad one, and it's kind of based on the song "Somewhere Only We Know". So the family would go to this forest often and just play and hang out. There was this one willow tree that kind of overhung and you could sit by the trunk and not see in or out. This was their favorite place to sit and talk to each other. One day, when Cole was about 7, 8-ish, they were under this tree and Lilly suddenly fell down from a sudden illness. Now every year after his mother's death he would go to that forest, sit under the tree and think about all the memories he has there."

Swampy, SwampySweet: (1) Cole only knows how to make one certain dish right every time without mishap, because it was his mom's favorite and he wanted to cook it for her when he was younger.

(2) My other headcanon is that Cole secretly loves tap dancing because his parents would do that cute little hand-holding-swing-play-thin when he was tiny, and his fancy dance shoes would click on the ground sporadically.

Thanks to everyone who entered, I am grateful that your headcanons existed to curb my horrible case of writer's block. 3