The boy had a lot of scars.

Underneath the grim, the dirt, and blood sticking to his chestnut sskin, were scars. Lots and lots of scars. Long ones, short ones, ragged ones that looked like claw marks. Bites of all kinds. Lichtenberg scarring and knotted burns. Strange, wispy scarring that Steven couldn't place, despite his medical background.

It was a lot.

But Steven dutifully ignored them and cleaned the Green Ninja's injuries. He seemed subconscious about them anyway, it wouldn't help if Steven asked where they came from or how he got them. Some of them…

Well Steven wasn't sure if he wanted to know where people sized snake bites came from.

Steven carefully began cleaning the wound on the boy's head, the wound on his side was the worst of it besides his ankle, which was just sprained. (It would heal in a matter of days.) Steven felt The Green Ninja's magic under his fingers. Under from where he was cleaning. It was powerful. It was almost overwhelming, especially the first time he felt it.

When he first touched him, moving to clean out the glass in his hands, he felt the magic reverberate deep in his bones, writhing as he cleaned, already moving to heal it's master. It was as if he stepped underneath a waterfall, it poured and pounded and was moving so fast. It roared in his ears, loud and powerful and raw and unrestrained. It was Green and ancient and infinite and connected to everything. Part of it hissed and coiled and was dark and corrosive and sinister and foxish. Destructive and dangerous. And the other part that was Gold and kind and elegant and twisting and clever and very, very tired. Hurt almost. Sleeping and bleeding out creation itself.

It was…

Incredible.

The amount of magical potential the boy had was staggering. Steven was almost intimidated by the sheer force of it all. The amount of it all. And he didn't even seem to be aware of the amount that he had. Well, perhaps he did but not entirely. Steven could feel the layers, thick, rich and deep. God-like power just waiting. Sleeping in the boy's bones and waiting in the depths of his soul to be unlocked and used.

And with the way those layers of magic were interacting with each other. In perfect harmony while still rebelling against parts of each other—it was…

It should have been impossible.

It should have torn him apart from the inside out, sending piercing deadly light through his molecules and tripping him apart at the seams. It should have been painful. It should have been excruciating to just…live.

Steven knew, he's seen it happen in visions and happen to colleagues. It was horrible and gruesome and never left anything untouched after the poor host was burnt to little more than a black stain and a memory by their own magic.

Everything in moderation—and that included magic.

And yet the Green Ninja was juggling it all. Doing a dance that must've taken years to perfect, years and years of practice and meditation to just be able to breathe properly with unraveling your own tissues and incinerating whatever was around you.

It would have been awe inspiring if the boy wasn't a boy. Because at his age that kind of practice would have been impossible to complete. Not nearly impossible—just, impossible. It took time to master your own magic. Time, lots and lots of time.

And at the age the Green Ninja probably was at, he wouldn't have had that time. Nevermind the fact that he shouldn't have had that time in the first place. As it should have killed him.

But it didn't.

Because he was sitting there, letting Steven clean and bandage his wounds. Calm and tired. Despite the raging storm of Green, Gold and Black Purple that was tearing through him. But not hurting him.

He was an oddity. A rare and impossible oddity. He was young too, with too much magic and too much talent. And, with the unrestrained, visceral feel to the magic—he was being trained but too broadly to truly hone to the magic to the edge it could be.

He could be so much more. If only he had the correct teacher—

Oh.

Well.

That certainly was a thought. Wasn't it?

(::)

The dude kept staring at him. Steven—or Doctor Strange he guessed.

It was a little weird—and it was definitely different then the normal kind of staring Lloyd was used to. There were the people stares and the enemy stares. People's stares were hungry, they stared at him because he was the Green Ninja, he was famous. Pretty much everyone's seen his face. Lloyd's seen the internet threads about him, they were pretty nice at best and overly sexualized at the worst. And then there were the enemy stares. Enemy stares were cold and angry, sharp and predatory. They wanted to hurt him and Lloyd knew it. He could feel it just being around them. It made him sick sometimes how potent their hatred and desire for violence was. Sometimes those stares were worse than the people's stares.

But Doctor Strange's stares were different. They weren't so much as stares as they were looks. Looks he wasn't used to receiving. The man had Elemental Power—magic of some kind—but he was pretty insistent that it wasn't Elemental Power. Lloyd felt it when the man's power brushed against his own, it felt weird. It was different from the rest of the ninja's. It was probably closer to Wu's than anyone else's. But it wasn't quite Wu's either. It was more Bronze than the White-Gold Wu had. Lloyd's Gold was different. It was just Gold.

He knew the moment Doctor Strange felt his own magic, he went ridge. A surprised almost startled look flashing through before it smoothed back to neutrality. A mild look of interest covering anything else. The man had a good poker face. Lloyd let him experience an echo of his own, it wasn't a big deal. If the guy wanted to hurt him he would've already did it when he was panicked out of his own mind and bleeding all over the floor. He might attack him later but….but that was a future Lloyd problem. Now Lloyd was tired and hurt and aching and was absolutely spent in every way he could be. Physically, mentally, emotionally…spiritually. Turns out getting possessed really screws you up.

(His fingers still twitched against his will sometimes. Whether that was from his own tremors or the leftover Influence of Morro—Lloyd didn't know. Maybe he didn't want to know. Either way it was prime ignoring material.)

Lloyd needed to get home. He didn't know where he was. Where Morro was and where the Realm Crystal was—

Oh.

Oh no—the Realm Crystal.

Lloyd jerked away from Doctor Strange, looking frantically aroud, hoping to the First Master that it was somewhere—

"Green Ninja?"

Lloyd flinched.

His breath shuttered in and out of him, and he turned shaky eyes to the Doctor. The man's brows furrowed in worry and he pursed his lips in question.

"Is something wrong?"

Obviously. Lloyd, the big bumbling idiot that he was, lost the Realm Crystal. Something his brothers fought for, something Cole died for, something—

Lloyd nodded. "I—I lost something. It–" Lloyd raised his bandaged hands, showing the rough size of the Realm Crystal. "It's–it's a big crystal, blue and it glows a little and, it—" Lloyd swallowed, fingers twitching. "It's what got me here if I could just find it—I—can't—" He was being stupid, losing his cool in front of a stranger. It didn't matter if the guy was helping him, it didn't—

He was probably evil anyway and Lloyd was stupid for accepting help and stupid for letting his guard down and stupid for getting possessed in the first place and stupid for losing track of Morro who could be hurting so many people and it would all his fault and was an absolute idiot for losing the Realm Crystal and—

"Breathe,"

Lloyd sucked in a breath. He can't—

"It's okay,"

It wasn't—It wasn't—it wasn't—He's not—

"There's no need to worry,"

There was! There really, really was—

"Everything will be okay, everything will work out," Something dark and blurry moved in his peripheral. "Just breathe with me okay?"

His lungs were filled with glass—

Morro was going to hurt people—

He was going to hurt Lloyd—

"1, 2, 3, 4–"

Lloyd inhaled, sharp and painful. He held it as the voice counted, everything in him screamed and he wanted to scream and cry and beg for it to stop—

"5, 6, 7, 8–"

Air clawed against his throat and stabbed against his mouth, but the air went out and more came in.

It hurts.

"1, 2, 3, 4–"

His Elemental Powers rumbled in his bones and crackled against the roof of his mouth, clawing against the foggy air in his lungs and trying to heal and hurt and be good and filling him with the urge to crush something—

"5, 6, 7, 8–"

It hurts—

But it wasn't—it wasn't as bad–it wasn't—

"1, 2, 3, 4–"

Maybe he could—

"5, 6, 7, 8–"

Yeah maybe could—

"1, 2, 3, 4–"

Yeah could—

"5, 6, 7, 8–"

Breathing, yeah, yeah he could—

"1, 2, 3, 4–"

He could breathe, he could do that—yeah—

"5, 6, 7, 8–"

He could—

He…oh…

Lloyd breathed out. His hands trembled and he was…

Okay and…

Oh…

Oh.

"...Are you alright now?"

Lloyd's face burned, shame crawling up through his lungs, thick tears clogged the back of his throat. Stupid, stupid, stupid—

Lloyd sniffed. Looking away, picking at the bandages wrapped around his hands. Stupid. "...yeah.." He could breathe but at what cost? He was—

Oh First Master. He just had a breakdown in front of some rando—he just—

Oh Spinjitzu Master, he was so stupid.

Doctor Strange hummed, he probably didn't believe him.

They sat in silence for a bit. Lloyd just sat there, nearly choking on the left over tears and rampant shame and Doctor Strange carefully watched. Patient. Patient in a way Lloyd hated. He hated it because it reminded him too much of Wu. He didn't want to be reminded of Wu right now. After his stupid breakdown. His stupid fit. Wu was always uncomfortable with them, standing a couple feet away and watching as tried in vain to pull in his tears and to breathe properly. Or…or sometimes he just left. It was fine, it was fine. It was always fine. He always calmed himself down, stopped breathing so inefficiently and being a baby over nothing. Sure it—it always took a lot longer than he wanted it to and sometimes he felt like passing out or–or just crying some more. But–but it worked usually and—he just—

He hated it. He hated it so, so much.

But…

But Doctor Strange hadn't left. He was patient but it was…he wasn't making any faces or giving off any vibes that were…he was…

It was…

Nice.

"May I touch you?"

What—

He didn't—

Why would he be asking that?

He…

He nodded because what else could he do?

Say no?

Doctor Strange nodded, slowly, so Lloyd could see him the whole time, and continued to methodically wrap his forearm.

Lloyd wanted to hide. He wanted to curl up into a pitiful ball of Demigod-Dragon-Oni-ness, hide in some dark, rocky hole and never leave until he died. Then he wouldn't have to live with himself and the horrible burning shame that was squating in his stomach and throat like an overbearing mother. Constantly there—reminding him how useless and attention-seeking he was, even if it never did anything, Lloyd could still feel it. It was there and it wasn't going away.

And Lloyd wanted to die. But…

But dying from shame wasn't very ninja-like behavior. Dying with honor was—and there was nothing honorable about freaking out about losing something like a little kid. A child. Lloyd was older now—because of that tea he was sixteen, at least his body was supposedly sixteen. That's roughly how old the rest of the ninja were. So–so that's how old he should be.

And he did lose the Crystal. That was on him, he shouldn't have freaked out about it but he still lost it. It was his fault and his responsibility. The Crystal was his responsibility. And he lost it.

And he lost Morro. Who could be anywhere.

Flying around, causing ghostly terror and possibly killing little kids. Maybe he was stealing stuff, maybe he was stealing people.

Lloyd paused, Morro stealing people? Lloyd suddenly had the image of Morro laughing manically with a grandma over his shoulder, while she hit him with her walker and he flew off into the sunset; like some twisted version of a happily ever after. It was a weird thought. A dumb one even. And It was totally a possibility. As stated before—it was a weird one—what use would random people have to the ghost? He was dead and they were in a completely separate realm. What use would random alternate realm people have? The magic was different here, it was sparser and denser in random cold spots and it tasted different to his own powers as well but Morro was still the Master of Wind. Dead or not, still though, being dead probably didn't negate any of his powers. In fact being dead might've made them stronger.

Hm.

That was a thought. Morro being dead making his powers stronger. Was that a possibility? Did death do anything to Elemental Powers? Did they change them in anyway—in reality Lloyd didn't have any more data points beside Morro. Who was dead. When a Master died their powers passed on to the next of kin that was worthy and stronger enough spiritually to hold them—more often than not a child or a previously chosen successor. But Morro didn't choose anyone and he certainly didn't have any kids when he was alive. Did Morro have anyone like that? Probably not, he was sad and lonely and so angry and—

"Green Ninja?"

Lloyd startled. Oh First Spinjitzu Master—how long was in his own head?

Lloyd blinked and noticed that—yeah, everything was wrapped up. He looked kinda dumb with all the bandages and everything. He never liked being bandaged up like this. It made him feel weak and sad—like a wet dog. Even though it happened a lot when he was younger.

He—he must've zoned out the whole time. Weird. It was stupid of him to lose track of time like this but in his defense he's had a really hard last two weeks—at least…he thought it was two weeks. Time was really messed up when your body's being puppeted by corrupted magic and your soul's being held hostage by another, angrier soul. What if it was more? What if he was locked in there for a whole month? Locked in his own body for a whole month? What if—

Doctor Strange was looking at him.

Lloyd didn't like it.

Lloyd breathed in—

Yanking up all the decorum and grace and adulty-ness that was beaten into him.

And breathed out—

And shoved it all into his spine and the rest of his stupid fidgety limbs. He could do this, he could do this, he could do this—

"Sorry," Lloyd clenched his hands to keep them from trembling. "Could…could you repeat that?" First he had a major freak out and now he zoned out like he didn't even care about what the guy was saying? It was almost like he was back at Darkley's—

Doctor Strange's mouth twitched in a frown, his cape rustling around his feet. "I…" He looked like he wanted to say something. Like it was killing him not to ask—it was masked (again, good poker face.) but it looked like when Cole wanted to ask if he was okay or something. It wasn't exactly the same but similar enough for Lloyd to recognize it when he saw it.

"I was wondering if you had anywhere to go, you mentioned that you…" The man paused, his eyes thoughtful. "...Misplaced the artifact that got you here,"

Wonderful reminder Doc.

Lloyd felt himself frown. No—no he…he didn't have anywhere to go. Not with his stupid klutzy self losing one of the most ancient and powerful artifacts of Ninjago.

"I…" Yeah–yeah he did lose it and now he was somewhere random in the Realm Tree and he had no idea where he was, what realm he was in. Let alone the fact that he had no idea how to get back without the Crystal that he lost. Lloyd's fingers twitched but he kept them still enough for Darkley's standards. Fidgeting was unbecoming.

"No…I..I don't have anywhere to go—but–but–if I find the Crystal I won't have to stay here—nothing against your realm of course but if I find it then I can just go back. After I find Morro of course and—"

Lloyd's mouth snapped shut.

"Sorry I…" Lloyd bit the inside of his cheek. "...Sorry,"

Doctor Strange was giving him that look again. But there was something different about this time. This time it was filled with soft steel.

"You may stay with me in the Sanctum until you find your artifact,"

….Wait—

What—

"And you mentioned finding someone else as well," The man nodded to himself. "Yes—I can help find both,"

He wasn't seriously—

"Only if you're okay with that of course?"

O–oh. He—he was serious.

Lloyd opened his mouth, wanting to say no, because there was no way he'd impose and—

But–but he really didn't have anywhere to go. He had no friends here, no ninja and no Wu. There was no Bounty and there were no inns that knew him for being the 'savior of Ninjago' and scrambled to kiss his feet and give him a room as soon as he opened his mouth.

There was nothing here for him.

There was…

Lloyd felt the urge to cry again.

He…

Maybe he could for a little bit. Just until he found the Crystal, just until he could go home.

"I…." Lloyd swallowed the shame and pulled on his brittle, crumbling but annoying somehow solid logic. He had nowhere else to go, and…and Doctor Strange seemed nice enough. "...okay…I can…I can stay….If—if you're okay with that?" Lloyd winced—wonderful delivery 'Green Ninja'.

Doctor Strange smiled and nodded peaceably. "Of course, that's why I asked,"

Lloyd's ear bled hot. Oh–yeah—duh.

Doctor Strange laughed softly and it didn't feel like it was at Lloyd's expense.

"Very well, you will stay here until we find your artifact and your friend,"

Lloyd went cold.

"He's not—" He shivered. Horrible–aching, painful memories of Morro seizing his body as he writhed against his malicious cold. Corrupted, malevolent magic coursing through his veins and it tried to overtake his own Green. His bones and arms and legs and face twisting all wrong because Morro couldn't remember what it was like to have a body and how to move one properly. Anger and hate and jelously that wasn't his, raking through his own mind. Making him bleed his own soul as Morro made sure he hurt.

Because Lloyd didn't deserve to be the Green Ninja. He didn't deserve to have that title, he didn't deserve to save people, didn't deserve to be who he was. He didn't even deserve to be alive. Morro made sure he knew that.

Lloyd swallowed and he couldn't stop his hands from shaking. He looked to the side, shame building in his throat again. He had the urge to hide again. Maybe it would be easier that way. Maybe it would be…

"...Morro's not my friend,"

….better.