A/n- Before S13 dropped I had some plans for Cole's backstory that now are considered somewhat AU but that is ok. Also this chapter was written in first person as a way to challenge my writing skills a bit. Also, for my purposes, the Brookstone's main residence is in the outskirts of Jamanakai Village, but because of how frequent Lou's performances in Ninjago City are, they have a small apartment there. Marty Oppenheimer's is also in NC.

'I. Hate. Hospitals.'

The white walls mocked me as I walked through them. Too pristine, too cheery for the horrors they contained. Everything here made my skin crawl. The people crowded together, the constant beeping of one machine or another, the crappy food, the sharp smell of antiseptic that barely hid the scent of disease and body odor... but most of all the looks of pity cast my way when people saw what floor I was headed to.

My eyes started stinging but I tried to ignore the feeling. Given the doctors' most recent prognosis, I'd have ample opportunity to cry later. Slipping into the elevator I balanced my tray in one hand and swiped at my eyes. If Mom saw me crying she'd only start and that was not something I could handle at the moment.

With a soft ding the elevator doors slid open. The large blue "Oncology" sign above the door made me want to vomit. I took a deep breath- trying not to choke on the smells of the chemicals- and took the familiar route to Mom's room.

The door was cracked open. I was about to head in when my Mom's voices rose suddenly from inside.

"-tell him!"

Wracking my memory I couldn't find the last time my mom had yelled at anyone. She'd been too weak to talk much lately, so pity rose within me at whoever was on the receiving end of her anger.

"Lilly, you know why we can't tell Cole."

Okay, time out. Hold the phone. First off what had my dad said to start this? Secondly, and more importantly, don't tell me what? Could this have something to do with the weirder-than-normal hushed conversations my parents were having but suddenly stopped whenever they saw me around? Knowing they'd kill me if they saw me, I stood by the door listening breathlessly.

"Cole is not my father."

"I should hope not! What Mica did-"

"He hated himself for that decision and you know he ended up giving his life to make it right!"

I blinked in surprise. The only reason I knew Grandpa Hence ever existed rested in the fact I had Mom as my mom. And now both my parents just mentioned him? What in blazes were they talking about?

My father sighed loud enough for me to hear it in the hall. When he started talking again it was in a more controlled tone. "Cole hasn't shown any signs and you never did. Maybe it- maybe it died with Mica."

"I don't think it works like that. But you can't deny Cole's strength, and he's only sixteen!"

I frowned. Sure I knew it was not considered 'normal' to be able to hold a car off the ground when the tire-jack snaps, but my parents had written that off as adrenaline because Dad was in danger. That hadn't kept me from seeing if I could do it again. Apparently that hadn't gone unnoticed by Mom and Dad. Neither did the fact that whatever happened was most definitely not adrenaline induced.

"He might be a late bloomer, but even if not he deserves to know."

"Lil..."

"Ah hello Cole, I wondered if I'd see you today."

I jumped and let out an embarrassing squeak. The food on my tray lurched dangerously, but I managed to catch my balance before they fell to the ground. Turning around I saw one of Mom's regular nurses, Janie.

"Uh, hi." My voice decided that was a good moment to crack. I felt my face heating up but Janie only smiled kindly.

"Sorry, I didn't realize you didn't hear me come up."

"Cole?" The door swung open and Dad's red face appeared inches from mine. "What are you doing out here?"

'Oh you, know just trying to figure out what you've been keeping from me for years.' I bit my tongue and held up the tray. "I got the sandwiches."

Dad's eyes cut into the back of my head as I walked into the room, but I tried to pretend I didn't notice. On the bed Mom was propped up on pillows, looking exhausted. Whatever her and Dad's argument had been it had taken a lot out of her. But she struggled to sit up when she saw me.

"Hi Mom."

I set the tray down on the bedside table and gently gave her a hug. She still winced and I quickly withdrew. From the corner of my eye I saw her exchange a glance with Dad. Yay, more secrets. Or maybe it was the same one. I wouldn't know since they weren't bothering to cue me in on whatever the hanky was going on.

Instead I ignored it. "Sorry there weren't any regular Lay's. I got cheddar though in case you wanted that."

"Thanks sweetie. You can leave them on my table."

I set the bag of chips down- next to two other ones I remembered from yesterday's visit. 'Has she not eaten anything today?' Unease rippled through my mind. That was not a good sign.

I forced a smile and sat in the chair next to her bed.

"Honey I have to call Tylor real quick." Dad frowned as he read something off his phone. "He needs my opinion on the lineup of songs for our next concert. Apparently he doesn't trust Justin or Austin's judgement."

Mom's eyes sparkled in amusement. "Of course. We can't have you all practicing the wrong songs again."

Rolling his eyes, Dad stood up. "Honestly I don't even know how Justin managed to practice the wrong list for two weeks." With one more shake of his head Dad walked out of the room.

Mom turned her attention back to me. "How was school today?"

Faking enthusiasm I gave an abbreviated version of my day. The version that only focused on what my teachers talked about, and not the one that included some of the other 10th grade boys taunting me for having a dad who danced and a mom in the hospital.

"-so I have to read the first act of "Romeo and Juliet" for English tonight. Super excited for that." The sarcasm came out heavy.

Mom managed to smile. "You might be surprised. I remember having to read that back in school. My teacher chose to have us read it out loud in class and I got to read Juliet's lines."

"I don't think it'd be so bad if the English made sense. I don't know what half the words even mean."

"Think of it this way, it's helping to grow your vocabulary."

"Right because 'quarrel' comes up so much in day to day conversation."

Mom started to laugh but it turned into a bout of coughing. She brought a tissue to her mouth while I grabbed a cup of water from the table. When I turned back around Mom was wadding up the tissue, but not fast enough that I didn't see the streaks of blood on it. I offered her the straw and she took a small sip, the cough finally subsiding.

"Mom-" I broke off, too afraid to say what I was thinking.

Her hand found mine. "Cole, no matter what happens know I love you." Her voice trailed off.

"I- Mom I-I don't want you to go." The tears I'd been trying to hold in came back, and this time I couldn't stop them. Embarrassed, I looked away and swiped at my face.

Mom's hand gripped mine with renewed strength. I looked at her again and saw matching tears in her eyes.

"I know son. I don't want to leave you either but-" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "But I don't think I have much of a choice. You've always been my strong boy, my steady rock. I know you'll grow to be a man I'll be proud of, though I don't know how I could be any prouder of the person sitting beside me."

I couldn't say anything. Instead I leaned forward so my chest was laying on the bed, my head resting against Mom's side. We stayed that way until Dad came back. He joined us and we sat quietly together for a long time.

Eventually a knock at the door came, bringing with it several doctors and nurses. I didn't want to hear the most recent update. Giving Mom one last, long hug I left the room.

Though I didn't know it then, that was the last time I saw my mom.

One Week Later

The minister spoke but none of his words registered in my mind. I could only stare at the closed casket resting in the front of the room. A picture of Mom from two years ago sat on top. She looked so happy and carefree- completely different than she had the last few months. The cancer had stolen so much from her, and now it had stolen her life.

Last week I'd left the hospital not expecting anything to happen right away. Yet in the early hours of the morning Dad got a call. The cancer had triggered Mom's blood to use up all her clotting factors. She bled out internally before they could stop it.

Mom was dead.

Something bumped my arm and I looked up to see Dad standing up. I watched stupidly for a moment before realizing the service was over. It was time to take her to her final resting place. Taking my place at one of the front corners of the casket, I had to force myself to lift in unison with my paternal uncles and a distant cousin. The last thing I wanted to do was accidentally throw the casket across the room.

The chosen cemetery was on the fringes of Ninjago City, not too far from the Temple of Fortitude. Dad had been adamant about burying Mom there, but I had no idea why. It wasn't anywhere close to our home and, as far as I knew, Mom had never even been there. But that question went unanswered- like so many other ones these days.

The drive went by in the blink of an eye, and all too soon the most amazing woman in the world disappeared into the ground. Friends and coworkers from Mom's old job at the flower shop trickled by offering their condolences. One man in a long white beard knelt at Mom's headstone. He raised his hand in what looked like a blessing.

"Cole it's time to go." Dad spoke suddenly in my ear.

I nodded at him but looked back toward the grave. The old man was gone. 'What the heck? I only looked away for a second.' I didn't have a chance to wonder any longer because Dad called my name again.

"We're heading home."

I bristled at the word 'home.' Our house wasn't home anymore- not without Mom. But I held my tongue. Something within me knew Dad wouldn't appreciate it.

Four Months Later

Stomping into the house, I threw my backpack on the ground and slammed the door behind me. 'WHY would Dad accept an offer to sing at the school- and not tell me? Then goes and tells about that stupid recital he's making me do?'

Before I took my anger out on the table I stormed to the backyard. From our shed I dug out an old football. It hadn't seen the light of day in years but at the moment it was the softest thing I could think to throw.

Over and over again I chucked it at one of the trees in our yard. Gradually the tree disappeared and, in my mind's eye, I hurled the ball at several of my classmates. The mocking and taunting from earlier rang in my ears.

-Hey twinkle toes I heard your dad's getting you a tutu. Probably won't have to worry about it fitting.-

-Was it really your mom who died? Seems your dad's girly enough to replace her.-

-Oh Cole here's a tiera to go with your costume.-

Seeing red, I up the football again and threw as hard as I possibly could.

Pop!

I jumped and my mouth dropped open. The leather football lay in two pieces at the base of the tree.

I had just ripped a football in half by throwing it.

The stupid comments from my classmates faded away and I slid to the ground. 'What is happening to me?'

I was still staring at the tree when Dad got home. "Cole?"

All the anger came rushing back when I heard his voice. "What?"

"Don't talk to me that way young man! I only called your name."

Clenching my teeth to keep from snapping back a reply, I stiffly rose to my feet.

"I told you I was picking you up from school. Where did you go? I was waiting for thirty minutes!"

"I forgot."

"That still doesn't explain where you went. I didn't see you after the performance."

Because I had beelined for the bathroom and didn't come out until the assembly was over.

"I had to get to class."

Dad shook his head in exasperation. "Fine. We need to get started practicing for your recital. We've already lost an hour."

"I don't feel like it."

"Cole this could be the big break for your career."

"How many times do I have to tell you I don't want to be a Royal Blacksmith? I don't want to make singing or dancing my life."

Dad's face started growing red. "You've already committed to this and you can't back out now."

"But-" My eyes snagged on the football several yards away and an idea came to mind. "Whatever, but I want to start going to the gym by school."

Scowling in disgust, Dad shook his head, "Why would you want to go to the gym? Dancers don't need to be buff."

'I don't want to be a stupid dancer!' I screamed internally. Outwardly I shrugged. "They still have to be strong and have endurance. Most days you're still practicing your own stuff when I get home-" 'And in the mornings when I get up and in the evenings when I go to bed' "-and I'm not doing anything after school. Can I go?"

Dad took a deep breath. "Fine. You can if your grades don't slip. And only for an hour. I still expect you to be practicing for your recital."

"You mean your recital." The words slipped out before I thought about them.

Dad glared at me. "Don't make me regret this."

Three Months Later

Weights clanked together on the bar above me. Breathing out, I strained my arms upward and thrust the bar up again. At its peak I slid it back and onto its rack. I let my arms dangle off the bench for a moment before swinging myself up to a sitting position.

"That was 290lbs (132kg) and you just did ten reps! If I didn't know better I'd say you'd have been training for the last year, not the last couple weeks!"

I grinned at Terry, the employee acting as my spotter. "Thanks." I didn't mention that it felt like I could already move up in weight. "It felt good."

He shook his head and laughed. "At this rate you might be breaking some gym records if you keep at it."

"Pffft. Yeah, right." Taking a towel, I wiped the sweat off my forehead.

"I'm serious man!" With one last knowing nod he turned to help someone on the next machine.

'Wouldn't Dad love that- me being remembered for the weight I can lift.' I rolled my eyes at the thought and glanced at the clock. My blood went cold. It was already 10 minutes past when Dad expected me to be home. Normally he wouldn't notice, since he stayed so wrapped up in Royal Blacksmith work, but today he'd told me he needed to talk to me when I got home. 'I am so dead.'

Throwing my water bottle in my gym bag, I bolted out the door. I managed to cut the usually fifteen minute walk in half. I ran, panting, into the house and into a very red-faced Dad who'd been standing behind the door.

"I told you only one hour at the gym and that I needed to talk to you today!"

'Hello to you too.' Gritting my teeth I tried to catch my breath. "Sorry... lost track... of time. Got a PR on... bench press-"

"I don't want to hear your excuses. You know what's expected of you."

"Yeah," I muttered darkly, "I do."

Dad waved away my words. "It won't matter soon anyway."

Ice flooded my veins with those words. Was he about to say I couldn't train at the gym anymore? That was the only place I felt I could be myself. If he took it away...

"What do you mean?"

Dad's face went from mad to excited in the blink of an eye. It was not comforting. "I've enrolled you in Marty Oppenheimer's Performing Arts School for this next year. Your acceptance letter came today."

My jaw dropped. "What?! No! I don't want to go!"

"Nonsense," Dad scoffed. "I trained there for all four years of high school. You'll already be behind going into your junior year."

"Dad don't you hear me? I don't want to go to any boarding school but especially not Oppenheimer's!"

"Sorry Cole but my decision is final."

I threw my hands in the air. "That's it?! You're just telling me and I don't get any say!?" My voice rose. "I don't want to go to a music school."

"Oh really? After the years of work I've poured into you? Then what, pray tell, what do you want to do?"

That made me pause for a heartbeat but the blank I had to that question only fueled my anger further. "Not switch schools, but I don't know beyond that because you never let me have a say! Mom wouldn't have made me go!"

I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. Dad hadn't even mentioned Mom since the funeral. A heavy silence fell between us.

"Dad I-"

"Go to your room."

"Dad please, I'm-"

"GO TO YOUR ROOM."

Letting out a wordless yell I stomped my foot on the ground. For a brief moment I could have sworn I felt the ground quake under my foot. The sudden fear that came over Dad's face made me wonder if he felt it too.

"NOW!" He shouted again.

I turned and ran down the hall, reaching my room and slamming the door behind me. Flopping backward on my bed I stared at the ceiling, resisting the urge to yell again.

'I miss her too!' I wanted to scream it so loud it'd imprint into Dad's mind. Did he really think I didn't? Though part of me wondered if he even did since all he did was practice routines for the Royal Blacksmiths'.

'I. Miss. Her. Too.'

Four Months Later

I glared at the large brick building looming over me.

"You got everything?" The taxi driver asked. Yes, taxi driver. My dad couldn't even bother to drop me off himself.

"Just this." I held up a large suitcase.

The man looked at me doubtfully but shrugged. "Alright."

Paying him I trudged up the large steps. Other students filled the halls. Chatter rang in my ears as returning students found friends from previous years. I scowled and made my way to the main office. There weren't going to be too many new juniors. One point for me not fitting in right off the bat.

The lady behind the desk gave me a class list and pointed out my dorm on the little maps (that are never actually readable). Mumbling a thanks I slid into the sea of students. Eventually I managed to find my room and stumbled in. Shutting the door I turned around and came face to face with a boy a good four inches shorter than me.

"So you're Brookstone?" The scorn in his voice threw me off guard.

"Uh, yeah?" I stepped back to put some space between us.

He tossed blond hair out of his face. "I expected more from the famous 'Lou Brookstone's' son."

Who the heck was this guy? "Sorry? Didn't know I had a reputation to meet. Who are you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Glad you read the paperwork they sent out. Aaron Lincoln."

Oh. Great. That last name rang a large bell. The office decided to put me with the son of one of Dad's most frequent competitors. This should be fun.

"Cool. Now if you'll excuse me I need to get my stuff situated."

"You mean that pitiful excuse you call a suitcase?"

It was going to be a long year.

Monday morning classes started with a bang. Being raised by a dad trying to imprint his musical career on me I knew a lot, but many of the words and terms being thrown at me in the music theory class weren't any I'd heard before. It went downhill from there.

Choir was a nightmare. Dad had signed me up for it and, again, I had to wonder if he'd ever heard my voice. The kids around me openly laughed as I cracked my way through the warm up scales. At lunch I took my tray to a corner and pushed my food around. No one joined me.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. When the last bell rang I grabbed my stuff and hurried to my dorm. I planned to lock myself there until dinner time. Maybe even past them.

That got squashed five minutes later when Aaron walked in the room.

"What did you call that choir performance?"

Ignoring him I pulled out homework and tried to start working on it. Key word being 'tried.' Aaron continued to talk, belittling me and Dad. I gripped my pencil so tight my knuckles turned white but managed to keep from punching him in his whiny little face. Never before had I been so thankful for a curfew when lights out came that night.

The next day was just as bad. When I got to my room after classes I wanted to scream. My brain felt like it was about to explode and I had no desire to learn the information thrown at me in each class. Groaning I flopped on my bed. It'd only been two full days and I didn't think I could take any more.

'Somehow' (ie Aaron) word had gotten around of my many failures- even the triple tiger sashay as a kid- and most of the kids in my classes found it reason for laughter. School at home hadn't been any better, but at least there the entire student body wasn't rubbing their superior artistic talent into my face.

"Looks like your dad's lack of talent rubbed off." Biting back another groan I opened my eyes to see Aaron leaning against the door jam. He flipped through papers in his hands. "Or maybe it was your mom's lack of talent."

I shot up like I'd been shocked. "Excuse me?" Bad mouth my dad, whatever. At this point I was beyond used to it, but to bring up my mom...

"I think you heard me. Maybe your mom died because she couldn't handle being with two pathetic losers."

Jumping upright I charged Aaron. His eyes went wide with fear, like he hadn't expected me to actually react. That look made me hesitate just enough to keep from punching him. Instead I body checked him. The force sent him flying into the wall. I didn't wait for him to recover but stormed out of the room.

The few students still in the halls cleared out of my way. I continued through the halls until I found a side door. Slamming it open I ran into the courtyard. The fence surrounding the property rose several feet above me, serving as another reminder I was stuck here. I found a tree and plopped under it. Anger still burned within me but being by myself helped.

Taking several deep breaths I forced my clenched muscles to relax. Slowly the tension left my body, leaving only a heavy weariness behind. And guilt. I didn't remember the last time I'd actually struck someone in my anger. Go figure the first person I snapped on was my roommate and self-appointed rival.

Dad would not be happy- if he paid any attention to the call.

I stayed outside until the bell rang for lights out. Though I was expecting to get in trouble for hitting Aaron, I didn't want to make things worse by breaking more rules. Yet, surprisingly, no one from the office had come to find me. That left me wondering what Aaron planned to do.

Said evil roommate was already in bed when I slipped in. That didn't make my apprehension any easier. Then anger washed over me again. 'No. I'm not going to sit here and take this anymore. I'll be 18 soon, might as well start striking out early.' But how to do that without Dad getting suspicious? Well, assuming he paid attention to anything beyond his own rehearsals.

An idea slowly formed in my head. It's a total stab in the dark, but at this point anything is worth getting out of here. As I fell asleep images of what I'd do with my life filled my dreams.

Morning classes crawled by. Glancing at the clock every three minutes did not help. I wanted to run out to start my plan now, but for it to have any hope of working the school staff had to believe I was still on campus. Finally the final bell came. I threw my stuff in my room and hurried out before Aaron made it back from his classes.

Last night I'd seen part of the roof overhanging the fence near the corner of the courtyard. The metal electrical box lay a good seven feet (2.1m) under it, but from my months in the gym I knew I could jump that high- and pull myself up. Patting my pocket to make sure my wallet was there I looked around to see if I had any witnesses. None.

With one final breath I sprinted to the box and launched off of it. Grabbing the roof I swung myself over the fence in a matter of seconds. I landed softly- and with a huge grin.

Phase one done without a hitch. Now to find a pay phone.

I walked down the city streets, blissfully blending in with the other people going about their business. Anonymity had never felt so good.

Eventually I found a phone booth. From my pocket I pulled out a piece of paper I'd ripped from the welcome packet they'd given us. My fingers trembled slightly as I put coins in the machine and punched in the number.

"Kathy Ampstead, admissions office. How can I help you?"

"Yes, Ms. Ampstead," I pitched my voice lower and spoke briskly, "this is Lou Brookstone."

"Mr. Brookstone, I thought I recognized your voice. How can I help you today?"

Even though that's what I hoped for, I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Our voices sounded so similar... until I tried to sing. "My son, Cole, was recently enrolled in his junior year at your fine school. However I've come to realize that while I enrolled Cole in an attempt to further his music education, it was too soon after the loss of my wife. We need to still be close right- right now." The cracking in my voice wasn't faked. "So I'm pulling him out immediately and sending a taxi to pick him up."

There was a moment of silence on the other side of the phone. "Mr. Brookstone this is very sudden, however I can understand your desire to be with each other." Ms. Ampstead sounded way calmer than I had anticipated, but then again she was used to working with people known for being dramatic. "I don't mean to sound insensitive but there is the matter of tuition reimbursement. We have a 50% return policy once school has started-"

"Uh, no, don't worry about it." If the money wasn't returned Dad would be none the wiser. "Go ahead and keep it as a donation to the school."

"Mr. Brookstone thank you. There are a some forms-"

"I'm sorry I have to go. Blacksmith business, but I look forward to seeing Cole soon."

I quickly hung up, bile rising at the back of my throat. What I wouldn't give for Dad to actually say those words about me. However when Mom died... I pretty much lost both parents.

Well, if Dad didn't want me around I wouldn't be around. But this time, it wasn't going to be because of the path Dad was forcing on me

I made a call to the cab company and told them to be outside Oppenheimer's in one hour. Leaving the phone booth I hurried back to campus. Near where I exited the fence I shoved a trash can close. Standing on top of it I slipped back onto the grounds.

Casually I walked to my dorm (which was thankfully Aaron free) and sat at my desk. I figured it would look suspicious if I already started packing- not that I'd done much unpacking to begin with- so I pretended to work on music theory homework.

Not five minutes later a knock came on the door. I opened it to see Mr. Franklin, my floor's RA.

"Hi Cole, can I come in?"

Shrugging I gestured toward the room and he followed me in. "What's up?"

He looked awkwardly at a piece of paper in his hand. "Your dad called the office about 10 minutes ago."

"Oh?" I pretended curiosity. "What for?"

"He's decided that it's in yours and his best interest for you to return to Jamonakai. He, well, he already has a taxi waiting for you outside."

I widened my eyes in what I hoped was a believable expression of surprise. "Ok. Well my dad is known for changing his mind. I can't say I mind going home- no offense." I add as an afterthought.

"It's okay. Do you need help packing?"

Awkward much? But I shook my head. "I hadn't gotten much out of my suitcase yet. It'll only take me a couple minutes."

"Alright then. And Cole it was nice to meet you. I wish you the best."

I smiled thinly. "Thanks."

Once he left it only took ten minutes to put my scattered possessions in the suitcase. Word had already managed to get around that I was leaving. Students watched, varying levels of scorn, curiosity and pity on their faces. I bristled under their stares but told myself to ignore them. Only a few more minutes and I'd be free for the first time in... a long time.

Another staff member saw me off but anything she said went in one ear and out the other. With a final wave I jumped in the taxi. Giving the driver the address to our apartment I didn't look back as Oppenheimer's disappeared behind me.

It had only been an hour since my phone call. Life was now standing there, the possibilities wide open.

Two Months Later

"Are you sure you won't stay any longer?" Farmer Menkin asked. He'd walked me down to the end of his driveway to see me off.

I laughed. "Sorry sir, since the wheat's been harvested it's time for me to hit the road."

"Oh to be young again." He adjusted his ball-cap. "Alrighty then, son. If you're ever back this way you're always welcome with me and misses. We've never had a worker as hard as you."

Smiling, I stuck out my hand. "Thank you for everything."

"No, thank you sonny. Take care of yourself ya'hear?"

"Will do." With a final wave I tightened the straps on my backpack and headed down the road.

The Menkin farm had been one of the more enjoyable places I'd worked/crashed at in the last few weeks, but something inside me kept calling me onward.

So I went.

From the moment I'd left Ninjago City all those weeks ago (after packing a quick bag of supplies from our apartment) south had felt right and I continued heading that direction. The mountains that rose in the distance reminded me of home. One peak rose above the rest and my gaze locked on it. The closer it got the more resolved I became.

I was going to scale that mountain.

Why? Just to show the world I could.

It took a whole day to get to the base. In the fading light of the sunset I made camp. In the morning I would climb that cliff and maybe there I'd figure out what my next step would be.

Turns out I wouldn't find my next step; I would find my destiny.

A/n- fun fact: I was planning on naming Cole's mom Roxanne to keep with the rock theme (Roxy/Mica/Cole) but ended up seeing she had an official name. That's more than Jay's mom has...