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Coming home is an odd feeling.
Calling the snow-dusted streets he grew up playing in home feels like the wrong description. Despite having made up with his father years ago, he’s still out of place here. His black and orange don’t match with the beige of the buildings or the white of the early April snow. Those are more of Zane’s colors.
This place had once been filled with warmth in the form of memories and waltz music that drifted lazily through the air like sweet honey. He used to watch his mother and father sway through the kitchen before he ran and tugged on their clothes so he could join in, too. Neither he nor his mom could carry a tune to save their lives, so his father was always the one to sing him to sleep. Back then, Home meant warm candlelight and the feel of soft soil under his feet in the garden. It meant kind eyes and smiles that lit up a room.
Now it’s different. Yes, he loves his father. Yes, he is loved in turn, but no amount of love can erase the hole that she left. The heat has faded to lukewarm, though it gets warmer every time he visits, which is infinitely better than the frigid temperature it had been for the longest time when he had left. The light dimmed when she left, if only by a bit. No one maintains the garden anymore. The rose-colored glasses had been lifted; Cole is too old to be sung to sleep.
This place isn’t home, not without a family left unbroken. However, it will always remain a sanctuary he could pass through. His father made that clear after the talent show.
First Master, how long has passed since then, when he finally made his father proud?
It’s been enough time for the stickers on the light posts to peel and crack away. The ditch Cole used to search for bugs in when he was five had been filled and now hosts an apartment building. His street is the same, though. The Peters family had moved out some time ago, but a new family took their place quickly enough.
Some things that have changed are more sweet than bitter. The alcohol that had overtaken his father’s life after his mother passed had long since been vanquished. If Cole is correct, Lou would be six years sober this coming August. Cole could feel nothing but pride in his dear old dad.
His front porch is still the same, apart from a new welcome mat. The small windowsill filled with wilting flowers and barely-there overhang above the door to keep away the rain and snow are the same as he remembers. The doorbell still sings the same tune as it had years ago when he rings it.
Zane, his companion on this trip, places a cool hand on his shoulder, “Are you sure you wish to do this? You can always call him instead.”
Despite how Zane spoke nothing but the truth, Cole places his hand on top of his brother’s and allows a small smile to make its way onto his face, “It’ll be okay, Zane. It’s been a long time since we made up, and he deserves to know what happened to me.” No amount of love in the present could remove the years of harsh training and fear Cole had felt when he thought about telling his father how much his lessons and harsh criticisms used to make him hate the performing arts. Despite all of that- despite how he still feels some lingering discomfort in this place, he loves his father and is proud of how far they have come in mending their once-strained relationship.
Zane nods, “Alright.”
The door opens. Lou stands in front of them. He is not as well dressed as Cole would have hoped- his white button-up is wrinkled as if he had slept in it. His eyes have the faintest tinge of red to them, contrasting their hazel hue. His hair is a bit different than he remembers- messier, longer than before, and the lines around his eyes seem deeper set than they had, but he is well, and that is what matters.
His dad drops his cane with a thunk, and his voice cracks as he speaks, “Cole.” His confusion and distress are evident in his tone, “I’ve been worried sick.” He comes forward and embraces his son with hands clutched around the fabric of his hoodie, who hugs him back much more softly. Lou is short enough compared to Cole that he had to lift himself on his toes to hook his chin over his son’s shoulder.
Cole’s voice is quiet, “Hey, dad.” His father’s hugs are usually full of comfort as if he had saved up all of his devotion to his family for those years of Cole’s childhood and poured them out in waves to make up for the fact he wasn’t there for him after her death. Now, though, Cole is the one taking on that role, “Miss me?”
“Of course I missed you.” He pulls back and brings Cole’s face into his hands. His curious thumbs trace his cheekbones and the rough skin there. It feels good on Cole’s side, like a hug much softer than the first. Lou gasped and pulled his son’s face closer, “You have your mother’s eyes,” his voice was choked up, “When did that happen?”
“Sorry for not telling you earlier.” Cole says in lieu of a response, “I was still trying to figure it out for myself, but-“ he pulls his father’s hands away from his face and holds them, “You might want to sit down for this. It might take a while to explain everything.”
“I canceled all my plans for the week after I saw the news. I’ve got all the time in the world for you.”
Cole revels in the warmth that spreads through his chest.
After properly greeting Zane, who awkwardly stood off to the side during their heartfelt reunion, Lou sits them down in the living room and marches over to the kitchen to get them something to drink, despite Cole’s insistence that he was okay without one, and the fact that his companion doesn’t need to drink at all.
“So,” he starts once he comes back into the room holding three glasses of water. It feels awfully reminiscent of when he had first returned to his childhood home after becoming a ninja- being sat on the couch next to his friend and across the table from his father, “care to explain why my son has horns? You said on that news report that you’d already explained it, but I haven’t turned on the TV since. I wanted to hear it from you, face to face.” He grabs his glass and holds it in his hands, “…that is why you came here, correct? To tell me?”
Cole nods, “That, and it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” He knows his dad could never move closer to New Ninjago City or anywhere away from his home. This had been Lou’s father’s house before, after all, and his grandfather’s before that. His father is too sentimental to give up the family home.
His dad laughs, “Good to know you think of me between missions and world-saving-business.” He takes a sip of his water before he speaks again, “Still, spill the beans. We promised not to keep things from each other anymore.”
And so, Cole explains, with Zane interjecting with his own comments and wisdom from time to time. He brushes over his fall into the abyss and the subsequent victory as his father had already heard about that. Then he speaks of Lloyd’s theory and everything that came after- the metamorphosis, the changes in his life, the feelings and sensations he experienced during the process- all of it. His father listens with rapt attention- laughing at his description of Jay’s horrified face when his teeth came out at dinner and growing concerned when Cole voices his anxieties. Cole lets him brush his hands through his hair and around where his scalp met his horns like he had when Cole was still a child- though Cole didn’t have horns as a kid, of course. He asks all of the right questions at the right times, and Cole can’t be more grateful that he chose to tell his father of all this- to let him fully back into his life all those years ago.
“Your mother never spoke much about her family, apart from your grandfather.” Cole perks up at the mention of his mom. Dad rarely talks about her, “She never showed any signs of being an Oni like this,” He gestures to his son, “Only of being an elemental master and warrior.”
“Perhaps, unlike Cole, she inherited some minor shape-shifting abilities to keep you from seeing them.” Zane speaks as he swirls his finger around the edge of his glass, causing crystals of ice to creep down the edges in crystalline lace, “Did she ever mention chronic itchiness or happen to disappear for a time only to return as normal?”
Lou sighs, “She used to hole herself up in the office for a few hours a day. I thought she just needed some time alone or needed to get work done.” It is obvious remembering this much about Lilly is bringing him pain, “Why do you ask?”
Zane hums, a robotic and mechanical sound, “Lloyd, who has shape-shifting abilities derived from his oni bloodline, has mentioned that holding the illusion for too long causes discomfort in the form of itchiness, so he cannot hold his more “human” shape for long periods of time.” His explanation is sincere and to the point, “Perhaps she took those breaks to find a reprieve from such a feeling.”
“…oh.”
Cole is saddened by the downtrodden look on his father’s face, “I’m sure she didn’t want to keep all of this from you. You didn’t see it, but some people reacted badly when I told them I was Oni on that talk show. They want me- us gone.” If his mother was even more Oni than he is, surely she had to understand the risks of revealing herself.
“Perhaps she was only a carrier of the gene, though that would be improbable due to how potent Oni phenotypes and genotypes appear to be.” Zane sounds as if he is theorizing to himself.
Lou is silent for only a moment, though Cole suspects it has nothing to do with listening to Zane’s mutterings. The next thing Cole knows, his father is sniffling and speaking in a choked-up tone, “I had always thought that- that her eyes were just a part of the whole master of earth business.” He sniffed and brought his hand up to his eyes to wipe it off, “Until you came along- First Master I wanted to keep you away from all the danger her position got her into. You kept being able to lift things no toddler should have been able to lift- but your eyes were just like mine.”
Cole and his father share a striking resemblance, after all. Same eyebrows, same black hair, same heavy gait, but Cole had his mother’s jaw and her pouty lips. This conversation brings back so much of his late wife and everything she had hidden from him- about the elements, about the dangers in the world, about her.
“And now- now I know why.”
Standing up and moving to the other couch, Cole sits beside his father and wraps an arm around his shoulder. Lou wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, “Sorry, you shouldn’t have to see me like this.”
“It’s okay. I’m used to it.” A sad thing to be used to, but a foundation would often find itself soaked by the tears of those it held up, “I know she loved you- loves you, with all her heart. Even then, we all keep secrets from those we care about, but in the end, she lived a good life, part Oni or not.”
Lou sighs and nods, “I did my best to make sure she lived to the fullest ever since the moment I met her,” Cole derives joy from the way Lou leans against his arm. As he got older- after mom died- the family had grown apart. Cole hadn’t realized just how touch-starved he had been until he got closer to the other ninja. To be able to lean against his father again means the world again.
Lou continues, ”I just wanted her to be happy.”
“You succeeded,” Zane pipes up from the other couch, causing the Brookstones to realize that they, of course, are not alone, “We have heard stories about her from Wu and the creatures she saved in the depths of the mountain beneath Shintaro. Your wife was a courageous and wonderful woman who saved many lives, and I am quite certain she was very happy doing what she did.”
This time, when Lou sniffles, he is unable to keep the tears from falling, “Thank you.” He whispered, “Thank you both. Thank you for telling me about this, Cole. I don’t want to be left in the dark again.”
He smiled and rubbed his dad’s shoulder, “Don’t mention it, Pops.”
Their goodbye is brief but heartfelt. Cole promises to visit often, as long as he can shake the paparazzi of course, and to call every week, and Lou promises to take care of himself.
“I’m proud of you, son.” Says his father as he grips the back of his hoodie once more, “Lilly would be as well.”
Cole smiles, holding him back just as tightly, “Thanks, dad.”
As Cole finally walks away from the house he grew up in, memories flood his mind- ones of the times when he left his father without an inkling as to what was going on in his life. His dancing career was a sham and that he had found his purpose in the dirt. He neglected to tell him about his situation as a ghost until Lou saw him on the news glowing eerily green. His father hadn’t known that he couldn’t sleep without a light on for a good few months after he fell, and even now wakes up feeling phantom pains from the impact and a paralysis he can’t break from despite his strength accompanied by that damned chill. He hadn’t known that Cole finally learned about his mom and everything she had accomplished- that he saw her statue and fell to his knees in shock and reverence. His dad wasn’t able to help him for the first few months as he grieved the loss of his friends time and time again.
And when Cole wasn’t around to tell his dad where he was, Lou had no chance of knowing what was going on. He had heard from Pixal that his father broke down in the resistance’s warehouse after hearing about his “death” and then began to weep with joy when he saw his son riding the dragon to victory. (At the time, Cole had no idea why the dragon didn’t like him and would constantly try to buck him off like a mechanical bull. Maybe his Oni lineage was why he was so scared of dragons at first). Wu had to be the one to tell him about the group’s venture into the Never Realm and of the low chances they would return- or even when he was sucked into that video game.
Maybe it’s the ADHD that makes him forget things that weren’t right in front of his face- at least when they don’t pertain to missions. That doesn’t change the fact that every time he remembers his father and everything he had yet to tell him, the hole in his chest grows just a crack wider.
Cole can’t let it happen again. He had promised his father he would keep secrets and that he would tell him everything whenever he gets the chance, and he intends to keep that promise until the bitter end.