Chapter Text
Maybe it was just because he'd been possessed by its master for weeks, but Lloyd couldn't stop feeling like the wind wouldn't leave him alone.
He used to like it, as strange as that now sounded—a nice cool breeze during training, the sweet-scented gusts of new life in the spring. The thrilling rush of air swept over the Bounty's deck, ship in motion.
Not anymore.
It hadn't stopped. Ever. Not even when Morro was gone from the room, in those rare moments when he decided Lloyd's body wasn't worth dragging around.
Constant. Wind. All day. All night. For weeks.
It.
Never.
Stopped.
Howling. Shrieking. A constant wail in his ears.
Blasting from his palms to harm his friends—no, his family.
The thing tore at him like he was a carcass and it was a starving animal. Ravaged and bit and clawed every inch of his skin, covered or not, pale and sickly green. Absolutely no respect for boundaries such as mere cloth and leather and the wide-set bars—but never wide enough—of the vengestone cage.
It chapped his lips until they cracked and bled, froze his fingers and toes purple with cold, and blasted his hair into a hopeless tangle of soot-black knots.
Morro's laughter wove seamlessly into the sound.
Lloyd didn't know if he'd ever be able to get it out.
When the ninja rescued him, freezing cold, dripping wet and half-drowned—
There was silence.
Blessed silence.
Relief.
If he was going to die then, he'd at least have had peace in his ears.
But no.
They still had a job to do.
A realm to save. A Preeminent to destroy.
A ghost to stop.
Lloyd didn't know what kind of adrenaline he’d been running on, but somehow he'd crashed for the night, sipped some weird-tasting teas and some broth, and managed to pop up again the next day ready to fight. None the worse for the wear.
Well.
That was a gross overstatement.
But he'd smiled and stood without shaking, and cast pleading looks at Zane to keep the medical exam's results to himself.
Zane didn't like it, not one bit—that much Lloyd could tell—but he'd run the numbers of their chances without him, and the nindroid set his mouth in a firm line.
He kept quiet.
Kai yelled at him for nearly half an hour, once Lloyd collapsed on the ferry after they'd defeated their foes and the laws of reality began to catch up with him.
(He should've saved his breath. They'd needed him, and Zane knew that. They couldn't afford that kind of sentiment when worlds were at stake.)
But before Lloyd swayed and went out like a light, to the shouts of his teammates, legs crumpling beneath him—
He felt a really quite strong gust of wind.
…But Morro was dead now.
For real this time.
Wasn't he?
Lloyd shuddered.
Thump.
It had been a while, since the whole debacle. The team had recovered, somewhat.
The plates of Zane's exoskeleton had been mended. The dents hammered out and repaired. He and Pixal eased into their rhythm, working together to aid the team.
Nya's new role as a ninja had been publicised. She practiced her new powers each day, learning to “go with the flow.” Her element was a strong one. Lloyd admired her progress. He was grateful.
Kai was learning to swim. He still worried too much, and seemed to feel guilty—ridiculous, the Green Ninja should've been able to fight off the will of another in the turf of his own mind—but he'd be all right.
Cole…Lloyd didn't really know how he was doing. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't avoiding him.
He wished he wasn't. Stupid PTSD—that ghost wasn't him! Wasn't fair.
You know what else isn't fair? Some stupid little brat getting the green gi when he doesn't deserve it—
Jay seemed to be doing all right. A bit distant, which was weird. He stuck with Cole a lot, tried to make sure the whole ghost thing wasn't getting him too down. It was good to see them friends again. Made him happy.
Lloyd was fine. He was…“recovering,” as they said. His hair was blond again. All the snarls were untangled. Scars (from his own brothers, for Morro, on him) were healing. He was gaining back the weight he'd lost over the weeks, the muscles and fat stripped from his body in lieu of actual food. Zane probably kept track of that. He didn't want to talk about it. He felt less cold now, at least.
What he did feel was the wind.
It was soft, gentle, persistent. Ruffling his hair, flapping his clothes. Teasing, laughing, wanting to play.
With him. Like a puppet.
A plaything.
A weapon.
…Your new body is a fighting instrument…
Save your strength, ‘cause I'll be needing it.
What a joke.
Lloyd hated it.
“Go away,” he'd hiss sometimes, under his breath. Through gritted teeth. Fists clenched at his sides. “Leave me alone.”
It didn't listen. Strands of hair fluttered around his face.
It was probably nothing. Just normal shifts in the air, the typical winds of the changing season. He was just noticing it more, because of that ghost. Too sensitive. Scarred.
Aww, is the legendary Green Ninja gonna cry?
It was nothing. It was normal. It was—
“Ugh! Is it just me, or is there a draft in here?” Jay exclaimed, rubbing his arms. “Somebody leave a window open or something? Brrr…”
Kai smacked him lightly on the shoulder.
“What? I just asked if—Oh. Sorry.” Jay scratched the back of his head. He glanced at Lloyd, sipping tea at the table.
Suddenly the center of the mug was very interesting. Lloyd took a long, slow sip of the sugary liquid, translucent with cream. Ow. Burnt his tongue. Stupid.
The cool draft brushed against his cheeks.
He bit back a scream.
Normal wind, normal wind, normal-normal-wind-not-Morro-IGNORE-IT—
“I can inspect the door and window seams later, if that would help,” Zane offered, in that wonderful, logical-explanation manner of his. “Proper insulation will assist with our electric bill.”
Thank his grandfather for Zane.
Lloyd drained the rest of the tea.
Hot hot hot hot hot…
At least it wasn't cold.