PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Cole Y? If that's ok!
(Send me a character and a letter and I’ll write a small fic!)
Tears weren’t supposed to hurt, right?
Tears weren’t supposed to travel down your form and burn like magma, were they? They weren’t supposed to make you flinch in pain and cry out when more tears were added to the flow. The cold moisture in the air made it torture to breathe. Surely, if he touched the snow that dusted the wailing alps, he would start to sizzle and blister in response. The tears hurt his hands when he tried to wipe them away.
He couldn’t feel it. They were all he could feel.
He flinched at the voice coming from the open door, but responded in turn. His voice echoed and croaked with each word, “Hey, Nya.”
Everything in Cole’s new, ghostly form told him to run. She was the water ninja now. Water was the one thing that burned, despite how ironic it was. Her brother was the Master of Fire, yet Kai’s flames would only lick his see-through skin. She, however, could end his very existence with a flick of her wrist.
This one is dangerous, said the heart in his once-beating chest, Wavemaker. Stay away.
“Just wanted to check up on you,” He tried not to let his anxiety show as she sat on the bed beside him. By the look on her face, he failed, “How’re you feeling, buddy?”
Cole scoffed, “I can’t feel much of anything at the moment.” Apart from the agony on his cheeks, he was numb. The blanket, which used to feel scratchy and soft at the same time, only served as a place to sit. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine that he was dead, or deader than he was, with no tethers to hold him. What kind of Earth Elemental was he if he could not feel the ground beneath?
There was a pout on Nya’s face, so similar to the ones Kai and Lloyd would wear, “I wasn’t talking in physical terms. You look like you’re feeling sad.”
A pause. Then she spoke, “I’d like to think it does.” Her answer pulled Cole’s attention away from his tears to her voice, “I mean, you wouldn’t still be human if you couldn’t feel, right?” She reached her hand to lay on top of Cole’s, but she pulled back when he flinched, “Sorry, should’ve asked.”
Cole shook his head, “‘s fine, but-“ he sniffled. He tears had started to run dry, leaving only burn scars in their wake, “I’m not human anymore, Nya. I’m a ghost.”
Of all the things he expected her to do, shrugging was not one of them, “And Zane’s a Nindroid. Your point?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He had no rebuttal. Zane was as human as the rest of the crew. Zane had emotions. Zane could feel. Who was to say Cole couldn’t be human, too?
Who was to say that Cole was any less of what he had been? Who was to say he wasn’t more?
Nya whispered sweet nothings as Cole’s expression crumbled from the stone facade he once bore, and buried his face into her shoulder to stop the tears from burning his skin. He didn’t know why he was so afraid of her, when she would never allow herself to burn him. Nya was his sister, after all.
Nya, said his once-beating heart, Wavemaker.
He spoke back in turn, Home.
