"Is there anything you'd like to talk about?" Phil sat in the chair, notebook and pencil at the ready, like usual.

Garmadon shook his head.

"Hmm." Phil watched him. "I believe we've covered the surface of the issues you've been having—but I'm missing the full picture. There's still the core."

"What?"

"The surface would be your possible depression and anxiety. So, the visible symptoms."

"Oh."

"I need to go deeper to better be able to help you."

"What do you mean?" Garmadon sunk his fingers in Ochre's fur, biting his lip.

The dog yawned, leaning against his leg. Ochre didn't particularly enjoy these sessions, but he sat through them patiently.

"I mean, what's behind the depression and anxiety. What's causing them?" Phil said.

He stared down at Ochre.

"Do you know?"

Garmadon shrugged.

"Alright. What about another game of Jenga?"

"Um…sure."

Phil stood, taking his notebook over to the table, and got the game out.

Garmadon stood, picking up Ochre, and followed him over. He sat down in a chair, putting the dog beside him.

Ochre whined, then laid down, stretched out on his side. His tongue hang out as he panted, eyes closed and body relaxed.

He smiled a little, stroking him.

Phil sat down, setting the game up. "Would you like to start?"

"I guess…" Garmadon removed a block.

Phil did next, and they swapped turns for a few minutes.

"If you could rate your childhood, what would you rate it? One to ten, ten being great and one being the worst." Phil carefully removed another block, the tower wobbling precariously for a moment.

Garmadon shrugged, studying the tower. "I don't know. It was fine, I guess. Maybe a four?"

"Four? Why that number?"

He shrugged again, then removed a block expertly. The tower barely moved.

"I don't know how it works, since you're the son of the First Spinjitzu Master…but did you have a mother, then?"

"Yes. Of course I did."

Phil nudged a block experimentally, then carefully slid it out. "What did you think of her?"

Garmadon frowned. He hadn't thought about her in…a long time. "…I don't know. I never knew her."

"Why is that?"

"She died in childbirth."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Garmadon slipped a block out. "It's fine."

"What about your father? What did you think of him?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"How long did you know him?"

"Most of my childhood. He died when I turned…seventeen, I think? Maybe eighteen. I don't remember."

"What was he like?"

"Strict. Controlling. Perfect. Wise. Judging. I don't know, he was the First Spinjitzu Master."

"Hmm. What do you think of your brother, Wu?"

"Why does it matter?"

"I'm just trying to understand you better." Phil smiled.

"Oh. Well, you know it's your turn, right?"

Phil blinked. "Oh, yes. Thank you." He smiled again, then carefully removed a block.

"Wu is kindhearted, trusting, and naive. He cares a lot. And he's the 'perfect son'." Garmadon tested a few blocks, then removed one.

"Perfect son? What do you mean by that?"

"He does everything right. Rarely messes up… In fact, I could count on one hand how many times he's truly messed up."
"How many?"

"Maybe three."

"Hmm. That's impressive…" Phil studied the tower again, which now had many precarious holes in it. "What about your son?"

"What about him?"

"What do you think of him?"

"What's that supposed to mean? I love him. He's my son." Garmadon put his foot to Ochre's back, stroking him lightly.

Ochre snored quietly.

"What does he think of you?" Phil asked.

Garmadon paused, frowning. "I…don't know. I guess he cares. Why?" He narrowed his eye suspiciously.

"I was just wondering. Remember, all of my questions are meant to help you—not to pry." Phil removed a block, which almost toppled the tower. "What about Misako? She's your ex, right?"

"What?"

"Former wife, I mean."

"Um…yes."

"What do you think of her?"

"She's…I don't know. Fine."

"Fine?" Phil looked at him, eyebrow raised.

"Yes." Garmadon tested a few blocks, trying to find a loose one.

"How has she been?"

"I don't know. Fine. It's not like I would know."

"Why not?"

Garmadon slipped a block out. "Because we don't talk much, it's not like she trusts me after everything that happened, and I don't go asking."

"What do you think of that?" Phil carefully slid a block out.

He shrugged, searching for another loose block. He experimentally nudged one, then—

"Do you still love her?"

Garmadon started. The block he held jerked with his movement, and the tower collapsed.

Ochre looked up, tail wagging uncertainly.

He set the block down, crossing his arms. "It doesn't matter."

"It does if it affects you." Phil started re-stacking the tower.

"It doesn't. I'm fine."

He glanced at him. "Alright. Then there's one more thing I wanted to ask."

"What's that?" Garmadon avoided his gaze, watching Phil rebuild the game.

"Do you trust anyone?"

He frowned. "I…don't know."

"You don't trust anyone in your family?"

He shrugged, staring at the table. "Maybe Wu, a little…"

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Hmm. Do you trust me?"

Garmadon looked at him. He opened his mouth—but paused. Did he trust him?

No. Why would he trust him? But…there was something about him. Maybe…he was starting to. Starting to trust him. But not yet. "I don't know." He went back to staring at the table.

"Alright. Thank you." Phil finished fixing the tower. "Would you like to play another game?"

"Sure."

"Just remember—if you need anyone to talk to you, I'm here. Family is what I'd recommend to speak with, but if that isn't an option, you can tell me anything. Anything said in here is completely confidential and won't ever be repeated. It's up to you what gets said outside of here."

Garmadon bit his lip. He nodded a little.

Phil slid a block out, adding it to the top of the tower. "Is there anything you need to talk about?"

He almost said no—but paused. Would anything he said really not be repeated? Could he actually trust him? Could he—

The black darkness in his mind suddenly vanished. Garmadon blinked. His hands were shaking, still clutching the katana.And then his eyes landed on his victim. Blood soaked the snow, and the motionless, mangled figure.

Garmadon gaped, stumbling back. What had he done—

He sucked in a gasp, trembling. His breathing sped up, heart thumping madly in his chest.

No no no— Had he just…?

Murderer. Monster.

I told you so. He'll amount to nothing but a criminal. A villain.

"No, that's not— It's not true—"

Garmadon's eyes stared down at the body, unable to take his eyes away. It suddenly seemed as if every detail popped out at him, screaming at him.

The face seemed twisted, bloodied, with five slash marks crossing over each other, leaving large gashes. He was pretty sure it showed the skull and…the brain. Blood was covering the victim's features—if he even had any left. The eyes were intact, though. Wide and lifeless. Dim.

Dead.

His black hair was matted, some sticking to his forehead, sweat—mixed with blood—beading down his face. The corpse was mangled, cuts and slash marks littering it, blood still gushing out and staining the mahogany and crimson gi. The snow was stained around the body, no longer pure white.

Garmadon's throat closed up and his mouth went dry. He stumbled back, eyes wide as the reality suddenly slammed into him.

You're a murderer. And this is only the beginning.

"Ichor—"

"Garmadon?"

Garmadon blinked, hands clenching the table edge tightly. He stared at Phil a moment, then looked away. No. No way.

Guilt stabbed at him sharply.

If he said anything…Wu would come after him. Turn on him. Garmadon would be thrown in jail. Phil wouldn't keep the knowledge of murder to himself. No matter what the therapist said, he had to report that.

Everyone would turn on him, know what he truly was—a murderer. A monster. A villain.

Misako claimed he'd changed. But she didn't truly know his past, who he was before. She didn't know what dark secrets he bore. She couldn't.

He shook his head, trying to ease his grip from the table. "No. No, there's not."

Phil watched him, eyes slightly narrowed. Then he nodded, looking back at the Jenga tower. "Alright. Then it's your turn."

Garmadon let out a slow breath, then slid a block out. It would be fine. He would be fine, and everything would be okay. He was finally…it seemed like he was finally getting better, making amends with his son, and talking to Misako and Wu. He had Ochre.

Everything else would just fade into the past. Like it usually did. Like it was supposed to.

Misako looked into the kitchen.

Garmadon stood there again, like a couple nights ago, with a glass of water in his hands. This time his dog was with him.

She hesitated, then walked in. "Hi."

He started a little, looking at her. "Oh…hello."

He usually started like that, she'd realized. She still wasn't sure why. Even if he possibly had been tortured, why would he be scared of them?

"What are you doing up…?" Garmadon asked.

"I…just came to see how you were doing. Is therapy going well?"
"Yes…" He stared at his water again.

"That's good."

He nodded, then stroked Ochre's head.

The dog leaned into the touch, against his leg, tail wagging and tongue hanging out.

Garmadon smiled a little, watching the dog.

Misako stuck her hands in her pockets, shifting a little. She took in a quiet breath. Why was she always so nervous around him? Ever since he'd come to the monastery…she'd just been unreasonably anxious.

He looked at her. "Um…you want to pet him?"

She blinked. "What?"

"Ochre. My dog. He's pretty soft."

"Oh…um, that's alright."

"You sure? He likes attention."

Misako hesitated, looking at the dog. Then she slowly walked over.

"Just hold out your hand so he can sniff you. He probably doesn't care too much but I think that's just standard procedure to petting a dog." He cocked his head slightly, watching Ochre. "Of course, he's also part wolf."

She blinked, pausing. "Wolf?"

"Yes. But he's super friendly, don't worry. I think he got the dog temperament."

Misako frowned, then hesitantly held out her hand to the dog…wolf.

Ochre sniffed her, tail wagging. He licked her palm.

She flinched, then winced. She wiped the slobber on her pants.

"See? He's super friendly." Garmadon smiled, the same crooked smile she'd become familiar with, in both him and their son—the awkward, cocky smile she'd fallen in love with.

She sucked in a quiet breath.

"He's an awesome dog…" He pat Ochre's head, then stroked him so his ears popped back up each time.

Misako studied at him. Garmadon looked like how he had after the Final Battle—aside from the scars and dark clothing. He had the same eyes—or, eye. Dark brown, but not too dark. He had the same grey hair, though more unkempt. It tended to hang in his face more, but it still had the swept-back look. His face was still the same. His smile was still the crooked one she knew.

Though now, he wore a black outfit. It was a gi, looking similar to the one the man had worn who'd tried to hit Lloyd with that car. It made her wonder if Garmadon knew more than he was telling them. If he knew who it was, if he was somehow associated with them. And then there were the scars on his face. One stretched over, from his left eyebrow to his right cheek and over his nose. Other scars littered his face, one on his cheek and a few smaller ones scattered in random. He had the metal nailed in where his eye had been, squared and silver. The nails were easily noticeable, where the heads of them sat on the metal at the edges, their sharp points stuck into his face, maybe his skull.

She shivered at that thought.

Garmadon looked at her. "Are you okay…?"

Misako nodded, folding her hands behind her back to hide her fiddling. "Yes. I'm fine."

"Okay…"

"Are you doing alright?"

He blinked. "Um. Yes."

She nodded, glancing at the wolf-dog.

"What do you think of him?"

Misako looked at him again. "Of who?"

"My dog. Ochre."

"Oh. He seems like a nice dog."

Garmadon smiled a little. "Yeah…do you like him?"

Misako blinked, staring at him. She suddenly seemed entranced by his cute, side-ways smile. His soft, kind eyes—eye. His face. Her heart sped up, starting to thump faster in her chest. "Oh…I…yes." She felt her face heat up slightly.

What was wrong with her?

He watched her. "Is something wrong…?"

"No. No, I'm fine. Um…" She blinked, mind suddenly racing. She was making a fool of herself—again. "Why did you name it Ochre?"

Garmadon looked down at the dog, frowning a little. "I…I guess it was for his eyes. The name just came to me."

"Hmm." Misako still stared at Garmadon. Why couldn't she pull her gaze away?
He pet the dog. Then straightened, looking at her, and smiling awkwardly. "It kind of is an odd name, isn't it?"

Garmadon smiled awkwardly at her. "I suppose it's odd, having a monastery now. Being a teacher, a sensei, after everything I've done."

Misako nodded, glancing around the hall they walked through—the hall in Garmadon's new monastery. "A little. But teaching the next generation is an honorable thing to do."

"Yes…teaching them to not follow the same path I did." He stared at the floor, hand tightening around his staff.

She put a hand on his shoulder. "The past is the past, remember. Now, we live for the future."

"You sound like my brother." He smirked.

Misako laughed. "He is a good influence."

"Sure. Except for his unhealthy tea obsession."

"He would be offended to hear you say that."

"Good thing he's not here, then."

She smiled. "It's almost done being built, then?"

"Just some painting now, yes. Want me to show you the library?"

Her eyes lit up. "Oh, yes. I'm so glad you put one in."

Garmadon smiled amusedly, then took the lead. "I put it in for you, mostly. Unless one of my students has an affinity for learning, which I doubt at this present age."

For you. She blinked, letting out a breath slowly.

"Misako?" Garmadon frowned, eyebrows drawn in concern.

"Um…I'm fine. Sorry." Her face reddened again.

He looked uncertain.

"Um. I don't think it's an odd name. It does suit his eyes, I suppose."

Garmadon nodded, then smiled a little. "That's good."

Maybe I do still love him. Misako blinked again, her heart pounding now. Love?

She needed to leave before she made even more of a fool of herself. Her palms already felt sweaty and damp, her body tense, the blood rushing through her.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Garmadon frowned.

"Yes." She backed away, then turned, walking to the door. She pause though, glancing back at him. "I…I'm going to head to bed. Goodnight."

"Goodnight…"

She hurriedly left, Garmadon's face etched into her mind—most notably his smile and eyes. Or eye.

Did she still love him? Could she? After everything that had happened? So, so much had happened since then…since they'd been together.

She arrived at her room a few minutes later, walking in and gently shutting the door. She wiped her hand across her forehead, swiping some out-of-place hair back into position. She leaned against the door for a moment, breathing.

Misako sighed quietly. She frowned, then walked over to her desk. She slid open a drawer at the bottom, digging through the mess inside. It was mostly sorted, but still somehow looked disorganized.

There. She pulled out a small black box, blowing on it softly. Dust blew away, floating towards the ground. She hadn't seen this box in…years. She opened it carefully, slipping the cover underneath it. Then she carefully removed the golden medallion, shaped as a half of the yang symbol.

Misako frowned, slowly rubbing its surface. She stared at it.

The half was mostly golden, with a little bit of black. It featured a golden dragon. It was her old yin yang medallion…the one Garmadon had given to her when he'd proposed.

She sucked in a breath, blinking.

Could they…would it be possible for them to get back together again? Did she love Garmadon? Her emotions were getting out of control—she couldn't seem to think straight around him.

But…

She frowned, stomach twisting, an old feeling resurfacing. Do I love Wu? Guilt hit her.

They'd grown closer over the years. With Garmadon gone, she…hadn't thought much of it. But now that he was back…

This was getting messy.

Misako set the medallion back in the box, put the lid on, and then stuffed it back in the drawer—far at the back, at the bottom, in the darkness and dust. She shut the drawer, crossing her arms.

No. She couldn't think about this right now.

She started unbraiding her hair for bed, rhythmically undoing the folded strands. She frowned though, slowing. She suddenly wondered if Garmadon had kept his. If he still had his half of the medallion. That medallion was attached to promises they'd made to each other—and of which both of them had broken.

But since he'd been Emperor Garmadon…and dead…she supposed it was doubtful. And she wasn't sure what things of his Wu and her had kept, after he'd been banished to the Cursed Realm. She didn't remember.

She sighed quietly. Maybe it would work itself out.

Misako finished undoing her hair, running her fingers through it, and then set the ponytail on the desk. She paused, staring at the drawer.

The question still nagged at her. Did he still have his half?

Author's note: Just letting you all know, I am reaching the end of how many chapters I have pre-written for this. So then I will be updating this whenever I get a chapter done (: Because no, I have not been writing 2,000 words a day XD Though I wish...