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Cole stared at himself in the mirror, long and hard, as if doing that would bring back his flesh and skin, bring back his brown eyes, bring back the way he could feel, bring back his humanity.
But the longer he stared, the more he realized he was what he feared —
Ghost.
He tried gripping the sink, yet his hand phased through it as if nothing was there at all.
Cole had to fight back a shiver at the thought.
The thought he was no longer alive, the thought he wasn’t even there, the thought Cole Brookstone would be lost to time after everyone that knew him moved on, when he was still here, still aimlessly roaming the earth, still an elemental master, still unable to let go—
He’d be stupid to pretend those thoughts didn’t constantly terrorize him.
His translucent reflection blurred, out of focus before immediately snapping back so quickly Cole could almost hear the sound. The green hues laughed at him, mocking him for not being able to escape, mocking him for not being able to live, mocking him for being what he feared. What he hated.
Trembling ghost hands grasped each other hard, trying to force some pressure, some pain into the forever cold chest of numbness, swirling winds of cool inside his head swallowing every attempt whole.
His hair was a mess, even in the departed world. Some things never changed, he guessed.
Yangs whispers echoed in his ears, causing him to keel over the sink, shaking as his cackles and voice ran through his whole being. It was loud, so, so loud, clearer than water. Clearer than anything he’d ever heard—
And it was coming from someone who was dead. Departed. Gone.
The cruel taunts circled around Cole, showing no escape, because there was no escape.
Cole was trapped.
Trapped in a body that wasn’t his nor living, trapped in an endless stream of whispers, trapped by Yangs sick curse, trapped by reminders that he could do nothing to change it—
He wasn’t sure he could take it much longer.
Hell, who was stopping him from turning the faucet on right now and hold his hand under the running water? Who was stopping him from jumping into a lake? Who was stopping him from leaving altogether?
Common sense, that’s who, Cole thought dully, painstakingly dragging his hand away from the faucet, something he hadn’t even realized he’d gotten closer too.
It’d just make things easier..wouldn’t it? To be sent to the Departed Realm already so that he wouldn’t be reminded of the life he once had, the things he used to be able to do, the things he could feel. There, he’d be surrounded by fellow forsaken ghosts, not teased in the land of the living. He’d already freaked the others out enough : Kai trying to smack his shoulder as a joke, and instead going through it, muttering various hasty apologies afterwards. Zane offering him a piece of cake, only to be disappointed when informed Cole couldn’t taste anything to both of their displeasure. Jay constantly looking for him, because in his words, he could barely see him anymore. Nya always in a panic whenever she trains, worried she’ll splash him with water if she’s not careful enough. He barely saw Lloyd anymore, not that he could blame him— If he’d been possessed by a ghost he’d probably steer away from any other one he saw, too. It just..it still hurt.
“COWARD!” Yang’s voice pierced the quiet abruptly, causing Cole to yell and stumble back from the sink, nearly tripping his half-way there feet. “YOU FEAR WHAT YOU ARE? I’VE NEVER SEEN ANYONE ELSE MORE UNFIT FOR A ROLE!”
Cole bit his cheek, expecting to feel pressure, expecting to relief himself from some of the ever growing distasteful fear and annoyance expanding in his chest, injected into his heart, yet—
A misty, green figure that wasn’t Cole began shifting through the mirror, leaving Cole to stare in shock as his undead body froze up. What the hell—that’s not—that can’t—who?—
“AND YOU STILL THINK YOU’RE HUMAN.”
Yang’s ghost focussed in, alarmingly close. Cole jumped back, but Yang grabbed onto his wrist with a fierce grip, fiercer than anything he’d felt before, fierce enough for him to fear a crack punching through the air.
“No—get away—” Cole averted his gaze, turning his head and pulling his arm, desperate to break free. He wasn’t one of them, he wasn’t a ghost, he’d never be a ghost—
Cole’s heart pumped with anticipation as Yang studied him : His posture, his expression, his clothes, everything. What was that old man doing? And did he have to hold on so tight?
“Pathetic,” Yang whispered, a spear straight into Cole’s lungs, “You can’t even see yourself for what you are.”
“I’—” Cole stuttered, his words getting stuck in his throat. Speak damn it, SPEAK!
“You’re nothing but a ghost.” Yang released his hand slowly, letting Cole feel the icicles of cold shooting into his skin.
“No—”
“A reflection. A freak—”
“Shut up,” Cole’s breath quickened, going stiffer when he hadn’t thought that was even possible.
“Like the rest of us.”
“Zip it—”
“Something to forget about.” Yang relished the last words, saying it gently so that it played on repeat in Cole’s head like a melody, a song stuck on one certain moment he couldn’t move past.
“I said—”
“NOTHING!”
Cole sent a kick straight into Yang’s stomach, his grip releasing instantly as Cole panted and crashed against the door with the sheer amount of force he’d put into it. Yang cackled as his form disintegrated, specks of a sickly green and black flying. Cole stared at the place he’d been, a small sense of urgency growing in his head like a tumour, spreading fast and out of his control.
Wasn’t everything nowadays?
Cole caught his reflection in the mirror, and he swore for a moment his heart stopped—
He was fading.
No—no no no no no no no no no—
Cole ran into the sink, careful to stop himself so that he didn’t run through the wall. Air was getting harder to catch, and his composure was getting harder to keep from exploding, it didn’t help that he’d fumbled the handles 5 times to get the faucet running. Cole put his hands under the water, and had to fight back a shriek.
Burning, crawling pain travelled up his arm, swimming in his head the more jolts sent upwards were received. Stinging and throbbing beat his hands, staying there even when Cole slammed the faucet close, gasping and shaking and barely holding back hysteria.
At least—
At least he was more solid now.
At least that’d given him a little taste of humanity.
At least—
“Cole? You okay in there?” Jay’s voice rang out, small and concerned. “It’s…it’s been a while since you left.”
Cole stayed rooted to the spot for the minute, wet and stunned and tired and in pain, wondering why he didn’t just drown himself in the tub.
“Cole.” Jay repeated, a bit more demanding and a lot more worried, like a lost child looking for their mother, or someone rightfully concerned about their best friend after being turned into a ghost.
“Y…yeah. Fine. I’ll be out in a minute,” Cole responded, a little less confident then he liked.
“..okay,” Footsteps retreated from the bathroom, leaving Cole in his own, horrified silence.
He didn’t like this.
He didn’t like this one bit.
But, now, at least he had a way to cling onto humanity.
Just a little longer.
He stared thoughtfully at the shower, itching to go in there, itching to end it already, itching to go where he belonged—
Coles hand rested on the faucet of the shower, hesitating, hesitating, and—
Hard rain poured on top of Cole, each sting, each burn, each throb, each shot sending thousands of waves of pain through him, making him splutter and glitch out of existence.
He couldn’t—
He couldn’t breathe.
The water sliced through him, washing away each part of him, slowly but surely—
He bit his cheek, unable to feel anything but the constant shower of agony.
He needed—he needed to be human again—whatever it took—
But this wasn’t it.
He’d die if he stayed longer—he’d cease to exist—
Cole fumbled for the faucet, panic rising in him as he couldn’t see, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t—he couldn’t—
Everything stopped, everything but the aftershocks of agony, everything but the sharp inhales and the spots in his hands he could see through, everything but his legs flowing away by the pool of water beneath his feet.
He stumbled out of the shower, a vast pit of cold wrapping itself around him, piles of snow and ice all shoved in his conscious.
He was stuck.
He was stuck like this forever.
And there was nothing he could do about it.