Lloyd sat on his bed, legs curled up against himself. He stared down at the cracked frame in his hands. Two people stood in it—his father and himself. It had been taken sometime during the whole "Tournament of Elements" thing, though he couldn't remember exactly when.

They looked so happy. They were happy. Lloyd had finally had his father. His dad was no longer evil. He loved him.

He choked, swiping at his eyes. He took a shuddering breath, trying to calm down.

Why had he left? Again? Why?!

Lloyd shook his head. He didn't know what to think anymore. His fists gripped the frame tightly, stomach boiling, teeth clenching. He felt like screaming, but he remembered people were probably still asleep.

He abruptly chucked the picture at the wall. The wood frame cracked, falling to the floor. Some of the glass broke off.

Lloyd looked away, wiping his eyes again. Tears steadily trickled down his face.

Things had been going so well. His dad was trying to be good. He thought he'd truly changed. He'd…he'd almost begun to trust him again.

And then he left.

They didn't know where. He'd just vanished one day, about six months ago. He'd even left Christofern, which Lloyd had thought was the one thing he actually cared about. But no, he didn't even take the plant.

Lloyd huffed weakly, sniffing as he wiped at his face again. Why was he even so upset about this? So what he was gone? His father—Garmadon—never even cared about him. So why should he?!

"Everyone up! It's another day of training!"

His uncle's voice radiated through the hall outside his room. He heard him open Zane's door, telling him to get up.

Oh, no—

Lloyd frantically swiped at his eyes, trying to not look like he'd just been crying pathetically. Especially over something so stupid.

His door slid open with a whoosh. Wu stood there, bamboo staff in hand, along with a cup of tea. "Lloyd—" He paused abruptly, expression instead morphing into concern. "Lloyd…? Are you alright…?"

Lloyd nodded his head, probably a bit too quickly—he always was a bad liar. "Yeah, I'm…fine."

Wu frowned. "…I see that."

There was an awkward silence, Lloyd not meeting his gaze.

"Is there something wrong?"

He shook his head again, resting his chin on his knees.

"Alright… I'm here if you need to talk."

Lloyd nodded.

His uncle paused, then left.

Lloyd heard him open Kai's door next. He sighed. He should probably get up…

He briefly wondered if his father leaving was his fault. He did snap at him a few times… He blinked rapidly, sucking in a breath. No, no, it couldn't be…could it?

Garmadon tripped over a root, stumbling. His leg immediately throbbed in pain, pins and needles shooting up it. He winced, but forced himself to continue on.

He couldn't stop. Ichor would find him.

He barely side-stepped a tree, having nearly rammed into it. Then he tripped again, a rock this time. His side ached. His face hurt. His arm hurt. His leg hurt. Everything hurt.

He took a shuddering gasp. His lungs were burning. How long had he been running? An hour? Two? He couldn't remember…

But he was finally free.

Free? No. Just away from Ichor.

Garmadon shook his head, stumbling. He abruptly halted, his hand on a tree, sucking in strained gasps. His vision swam, black dots appearing. Trembling, he slowly lowered himself to the ground, wincing as his leg and ribs ached like fire.

He pressed a shaking hand to his side, closing his eyes. He let out a slow breath, trying to calm the adrenaline down.

He couldn't go any further.

I have to.

I can't.

He curled in on himself, shuddering.

Alone.

Ichor would find him here.

He shook his head, blinking rapidly, and looked up. Birds chirped around him. Leaves rustled in the soft breeze. Greenery surrounded him, moss and lichen growing on trees and logs. It looked so peaceful. Calm. Quiet.

He sighed wearily. He carefully pushed himself back up, stumbling a bit, but then kept going—this time a slow, aching limp.

Wow, he felt old. Like Wu.

He winced, shoving the thought down.

A while later, he came upon a clearing. Moss was everywhere, and here and there, sticks lay, moss covering them as well. The trees were tall, moss growing on them too. They provided good cover, and blocked out much of the sunlight, leaving it to look cloudy and shaded. A small stream trickled behind the area, small rocks on either side. The creek traveled down an incline, like a mini waterfall, before evening out.

He paused, gazing at it, chest heaving with every strangled breath. His legs suddenly buckled, and he fell to the ground, curling into himself. Blinking, he tried to push himself back up, but his muscles wouldn't listen to him. Darkness pulled at the edges of his mind, and a few minutes later, he gave in to it.

Garmadon blinked open his eyes. His muscles felt stiff. He tried to shift positions, tried to push himself up, but he found that he couldn't move. He was so exhausted. Each breath felt more labored than the last.

Am I dying?

He couldn't tell. He…wasn't sure if he cared, either.

Help. I need help.

But where could he go? Who would help him? Not after what he'd done. Not after what he'd put everyone through.

He curled into himself tighter, shaking. He took a shuddering breath.

The monastery?

"Dad, please!"

No. None of them would want anything to do with him.

He sighed. He supposed that's what he got. If he died…

I'll just stay here.

Garmadon sat by the stream, staring at it. It flowed at an even pace, going around obstacles in its way and going over those that it could. The rocks had been made smooth by the constant wear of the water. The bank on either side was edged in stones, grass, and the occasional reeds. Moss covered almost everything that wasn't submerged in water, along with lichens. There were a few fish that swam past him, too small to eat.

He wrung his hands, feeling the hard metal underneath his glove of his one robotic hand. He glanced down, staring at them. One had a black glove on, covering his wrist as well, and of which was being held in place by a few small buckle straps. His black sleeve was over his wrist, so his metal arm and hand were completely covered. His other hand he'd left bare.

He started picking at the hem of his sleeve, staring at the black fabric—of which wasn't technically his.

Ichor.

He shook his head, blinking rapidly, and went back to staring at the stream. It was a pretty color, being transparent.

"I told you not to try that again."

He sucked in a breath. The stream wasn't really a color, actually—it was more like glass. A stream of glass.

"Ever wondered how pirates feel?"

He shuddered, blinking again. The rocks were smooth. Grey. They—

Someone screamed.

He bit his lip, gripping his gloved hand tightly.

Blood. Wet. On his face.

He swiped his eyes—eye. Another breath. Stay calm. He was safe—

Garmadon tripped, nearly slamming the metal door behind himself. His sucked in gasps, though air never seemed to enter his lungs. He leaned against the door, his back to it.

"I told you not to try that again."

He put his head in his hands, gripping his hair. "No, no, no—"

Ichor would find him. Like the last two times he'd tried to escape. He would. He knew it. Why did he…? How could he have been so STUPID?! Trying it again? Did he have a death wish?!

That…didn't sound too bad right now, actually. Peace.

He shook his head. He'd done it now. When he'd seen the chance, he hadn't been able to let it go. The thought of no more pain—

He couldn't. He couldn't take it anymore.

He took another shuddering gasp. Breathe. He choked, his throat closing up, holding in a sob.

He looked up, seeing that he was in a small room. A table lay at its center, different…plans? set on it, along with…tools.There was a desk to the side, bya small bed that lay in the corner, a black blanket on it. The room was dark, but he could see well enough. A closet lay in the corner, open. Black gi's lined it—Ichor's.

I can't go out like this…

He found his eyes traveling to the gi's.

He couldn't.

…Right?

Garmadon shook his head. "No…" His voice sounded hoarse and worn, dry. He—

When was the last time he'd had any water?

He found his feet suddenly moving towards the closet. He reached out his hand, feeling one of the black outfits. If I go out like this, he'll find me. These… They're harder to spot. Wearing darker clothing will be harder to find.

He frowned, then bit his lip. He tasted blood. He bit down harder.

I have to… I have no choice.

Making up his mind, he grabbed the gi, quickly changing into it. He tossed his old gi in a drawer in Ichor's desk, almost starting at the ice cream scoop that lay inside.

Breathe!

He stumbled back after sliding the drawer closed, then hurried to the door, almost ramming into the table.

Wait—

He turned around, blinking. On the table sat a pair of black gloves, looking like they covered the wrist as well. Small straps would hold it in place.

Garmadon subconsciously rubbed his robotic hand, his fingers tracing the metal and wires. He shivered, blinking.

It works.

He swiped one of the gloves, slipping it on over his metal hand, strapping it tightly. He pulled his sleeve down, then stared. He bent his fingers.

A quiet sigh escaped him—relief.

He quickly exited the room, looking both ways down the hall, and then bolted.

Garmadon blinked, suddenly finding himself back at the stream. Breathe. He took a shuddering breath. Why did these memories have to haunt him? Wasn't it enough, what Ichor had done to him? What he'd done? How much longer did he have to suffer like this?!

His vision blurred, and he choked on a sob. He shuddered, closing his eye.

Obviously, sitting here wasn't working. He stood up. Turning, he strode into the clearing, glancing around. Maybe he should take a walk.

Yes. Maybe that would help. Maybe it would distract him for a bit.

He nodded, then set off, legs wobbling slightly. He limped along, wincing, but he didn't stop. He didn't care. He needed to move before he went insane.

It had been three days since he'd escaped Ichor. Though it didn't feel like much of an escape. Ichor haunted his every being, never leaving him alone, even though he was nowhere near him.

He'd more than gotten the revenge he'd wanted.

He found himself sighing again. He was so weary, so exhausted. So tired. He'd gotten basically no sleep these past few days, though he was pretty sure he hadn't really slept in…months, now. A few minutes. Maybe an hour. He really didn't know. Maybe when he passed out during sessions, that counted as sleep.

He continued on for about an hour or so. He wasn't counting, so he really didn't know. He glanced around at the scenery—the trees, the moss, the lichen. Mushrooms. Sticks and logs. A couple insects. A rabbit.

His stomach growled. He winced. When had he last eaten? He shook his head. It had probably been a while if he couldn't even remember…

A whine shattered into his thoughts.

Garmadon stopped abruptly, stiffening. His breathing quickened. What was—

Another whine. Then a strained bark.

"A dog…?" Why was there a dog way out here? Come to think of it, where evenwashe…? He took a step back, about to turn around and make a retreat. He really didn't want to get bit or mangled or eaten or—

Another bark—it was in pain.

An ache in his chest tightened. Garmadon frowned.

A pained howl. Then a whimper.

It needed help. It was hurt. In pain.

Garmadon shuddered. He swallowed, blinking a few times. He could help it, couldn't he? He…he couldn't stand to see anything in pain. Not after what he'd been through. He couldn't let anything else suffer like he had.

He took another breath, trying to quiet his thudding heart. Then he started towards the sound.

The barking continued, whines coming every so often. Sometimes a howl.

A few minutes later, he spotted it. It was trapped. The dog immediately lifted his head, sniffing the air, his nose moving slightly. It's ears sprang forwards. It's tail flapped once on the ground, before it whined again, this time in his direction.

Garmadon froze. No no no— He tried to quell his panic. It was just a dog. And it was stuck. It couldn't hurt him.

He took another step forward, leaves brushing against him, now getting a full view of the canine. It was all black, with medium-length fur. Its ears were erect, pointed, and it had a longer tail. It was a medium-sized dog, maybe a little bigger. It lay in a small clearing, trees, moss, and sticks around.

As soon as the dog had seen him, it's tail started wagging happily. Its tongue hang out, a soft pink color.

It's eyes were the most striking feature. They were bright yellow—sharp, yet friendly.

They belonged to a wolf's.

Garmadon took a step back. A wolf. They—

Much more dangerous than a dog. They could—

The dog—wolf—whined again, tail slowing slightly. It eyed him in confusion, staring at him with those piercing yellow eyes.

It was in pain. He could see it.

Garmadon shifted uncomfortably.

The dog whined again, mouth closing. It wagged its tail gently, still staring at him. Its ears were still erect.

Help.

It wanted his help.

He took another breath. He'd be fine. It was friendly, after all. And besides, when had he ever been afraid of wolves? Or dogs, for that matter?

He walked slowly towards it, trying to hide his limp. He couldn't show weakness, not around a wolf. They went after the weak, the injured.

The wolf wagged its tail harder, whining again, ears going back as it stared at him. It was laying down, and as Garmadon's eyes traveled over it, he saw what had it trapped—its forepaw was stuck in a metal, rusted, and large, bear trap. Its paw was most likely broken, then.

Garmadon took a step closer to it, trying to get a clearer view of its trapped paw.

The wolf wagged its tail.
"Hey, there—" Garmadon coughed. His throat was really dry… He swallowed, hard. "I'm…I'm going to take a look at your paw, okay?" Garmadon looked into its eyes, trying to get a confirmation.

The wolf just wagged its tail again.

"I'm…taking that as an 'okay', I guess…"He took another step closer, eyeing its jaw nervously. He finally reached it, and he carefully knelt down, not wanting to startle it.

The wolf tried to lick his face.

No no no— Garmadon flinched, scrambling back, tripping. His breath was suddenly ragged, and he gasped, staring at the wolf, wide-eyed.

The wolf's ears went down, its head lowering. It whined again. Almost like an apology. The tip of its tail wagged slightly.

Garmadon stared at it a moment longer, then mentally shook himself. Why was he startling so easily? It was just trying to be friendly. He berated himself, then inched closer again, holding his left hand out to it.

The wolf sniffed it, its nose gentle and wet. It wagged its tail again, nuzzling his hand, and stared into his eyes.

Garmadon flinched, his hand jerking back to his chest.

The wolf's ears went back again. It wagged its tail, looking confused and hurt.

Garmadon tried to relax. "Sorry…" He held out his hand again.

The wolf gently sniffed him again, though was careful not to touch him. It wagged its tail.

Garmadon sighed. Slowly, he reached towards it nose, softly touching it.

The wolf didn't move, still staring at him.

Garmadon took his hand back, then looked down at its paw again. It was still trapped. Now that he had a closer look, he saw that dried, caked blood was stained around the paw, though he could tell it was still bleeding—parts were still wet, and he could see beneath it was wet with blood as well.

"You sure got yourself stuck…" He reached a hand slowly towards the injured paw, touching the metal trap.

The wolf flinched, whining again. Its head lowered, tail stilling.

"It's okay, I'll get you out of here." Garmadon wasn't sure how reassuring he was, but he moved his other hand towards the trap anyway. He just needed to pry the jaws apart. Couldn't be too tough. "Hold still."

The wolf whined again, but it eyed his hands in interest, ears now pricked again.

Garmadon carefully wrapped his fingers around both jaws of the trap, being careful of the wolf's paw. "Okay, you ready? This is going to hurt…"

The wolf just wagged its tail in response.

Garmadon took that as his cue, and then pulled as hard as he could. The trap didn't budge. He shifted positions, now standing over the wolf, and tried again. It moved slightly that time.

The wolf lowered its head, not seeming to like that he was standing over it.

"It's okay, I've almost got it." Garmadon pulled again, shifted his weight a little more to the left, and finally, the jaws came apart.

The wolf immediately stood, bumping into Garmadon, who fell over with a surprised yelp. The trap clamped shut again with a metallic clang.

The wolf's face was suddenly in his, its tail an excitable blur.

Garmadon flinched, letting out a cry of terror, and raised his hands to block it—

The wolf's ears went back. Its tail slowed, and it sat instead, staring at him, its head lowered.

Garmadon blinked, slowly lowering his hands. He stared at it. It…it didn't seem to be hostile… He sat up, gazing at it.

It wagged its tail harder, its tongue hanging out once more.

Garmadon realized that it didn't seem to be fully wolf… Maybe it was a hybrid? It was a little small, though…. He remembered there once had been a type of wolf that was about as big as this one, and that was very intelligent. It had been hunted to extinction. It had been too smart for farmers, getting into their crops and livestock.

Or so he'd thought. This one looked suspiciously like one…though not exactly. It was probably part dog.

Garmadon shakily stood up, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. "You're free now." He nodded his head, then turned to leave.

The wolf…dog…whatever it was, whined.

Garmadon looked back at it, raising an eyebrow skeptically. "What?"

It lowered its head, whining again. It took a step towards him, its injured paw held up. Blood was forming around its wound, and a crimson drop fell to the dirt ground.

Garmadon paused, eyeing it. Guilt clenched at him.

He shook his head, then started walking. He couldn't even take care of himself. How would he—

The dog whined again, and Garmadon turned around. It had followed him, now staring at him with those soul-piercing eyes.

Another whine.

Garmadon blinked, frowning. He bit his lip. After a few tense seconds, he sighed. "Alright, fine. You can stay with me until you're healed."

The wolf-dog wagged its tail, making it a blur. Its whole body seemed to shake in excitement.

A faint smile briefly flitted across Garmadon's face before vanishing.