Past

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Yes, yes, I know you're all waiting for the next update on "Percy's Past" (if you're not and you're new here, well hello!), but I just didn't have the motivation (and time) to do it. Even now, with more time on my hands, my brain has been empty on what to do and write for that fic. For now, I want to do something else. I'll try to get working on it, sooner or later (hopefully sooner).

At the moment, I'm writing one-shots for Ninjago Angst Week. As you all probably know by now, I'm a huge Ninjago fan as well as a Percy Jackson fan. This is my first fanfic for Ninjago, so I hope you'll enjoy!

The prompt for Day One is Past.

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Cole stared at the doctor, not yet processing her words. "What?" he whispered, dread slowly filling his soul. No, that couldn't be true, they still had time. They still had so much to do, so many things to experience, so many memories together. Didn't the doctors say that they could help her? She couldn't be gone, not yet, not— not ever.

The doctor, a woman by the name of Dr. Alderwood, lowered her head. "I'm sorry. Your mother has . . . passed away."

His father made a strangled sound at the back of his throat. A few stifling seconds passed before Cole took a step back, then another, shaking his head slowly. "No—" his voice cracked. "No, that—"

Dr. Alderwood tried reaching out for Cole to comfort him, her eyes sympathetic, but he pulled away. His dark eyes glared into her, harsh and unforgiving.

"You lied," Cole seethed, his voice quiet, but the sheer force that he said it sent both his father and the doctor reeling back in shock. "You told us that she'll survive, that she'll get better, that— that everything will go back to normal and—" He turned his head away, wiping furiously at his eyes.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, but he shoved it away. He didn't need anyone to pity him. It wasn't like it was going to bring her back anyway.

"Cole—" he heard his father say.

Cole snapped, "Leave me alone!" And almost immediately, he regretted it. Because seeing his father's heartbroken expression, he realized that he wasn't the only one hurting. He wasn't the only one who lost someone—his father, his dad, lost his wife, and stupid Cole had to go and break his father's heart even more by yelling at him as if he didn't even care.

Without waiting for a response, he turned and ran. He ran like his life depended on it, pushing through the doctors and nurses and visitors and patients who were well enough to walk and then he burst out of the hospital, gasping for much-needed fresh air, his fists clenching tightly at his chest. A few worried glances shot his way, but Cole ignored it and stumbled to a random direction, even as hands reached out to him in concern.

He wasn't sure how far he ran, but the next thing he knew, he was ducked in a bush, emptying out his stomach. His body shook with sobs as hot tears ran down his face. Eventually, he collapsed onto the ground, curling into himself, pressing his palms to his eyes.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that his mother, of all people, had to be cursed with an almost incurable disease. And maybe Cole should've seen it— should've seen the light slowly fade from her eyes as time passed by, because even as she seemed to act like everything was okay, even as she tried to be brave for him (and because of him, she kept delaying the inevitable, she kept decreasing her chances of survival, and it was all because of him), her body was still failing and she was still dying.

But that didn't mean it hurt any less. In fact, it hurt even more to see his mother slowly die inside from the effort of delaying, before her body crumpled with her.

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