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Zane didn't know why he was here.
The apartment door was small, and rickety. Paint was chipped and peeling, the brass address had fingerprint residue and the frame was barely holding on. The door sill had a dent as if it had been kicked into place daily, over years. The popcorn-painted walls were thin, and muffled rock music managed to drift its way into Zane's ears. Knotted, hardened carpet sat under his feet, creaking with his presence.
Of course, Zane didn't look much better than any of this. His wires squeaked as bullets shifted inside them, having managed to pierce through his metallic skin. He held his own arm in his hand, the white fabric soaked completely through with electric blue fluids. Every plate of his body was jilted, unaligned and scraping against each-other with a high-pitched scratch. He was forced to lean on his left leg, swaying unbalanced as his right knee was buckling under the crowbar that had been jammed inside it, locking his leg in place. Flickers of dim teal light flashed across the dark hallway as Zane's remaining eye sputtered onwards. More oil dripped down his face from his other eye, shattered from a blast of energy that sent tendrils of impact throughout his head. His heart was visible from torn away gi, its rhythmic wailing of energy being the only calming presence in this whole hallway. Trying to match the beat, a strained whistle echoed from Zane's throat. It gurgled with the hydraulics that occasionally spewed out from his mouth and neck.
The nindroid stared at the door even harder, the puddle under his feet growing ever so thicker.
Ninjago City General Apartments.
He didn't know how his feet carried him here. The plip of the next drop rang harder in his ears.
Floor 3.
Still clutching his disembodied arm, Zane raised a weakly clenched fist. High pitched creaking.
Apartment 3419.
There was hesitation for a moment as his arm lingered just an inch away from the door. The rock music stopped.
Rented to-
The door swung open with a lightning fast flourish. The shink of metal followed alongside a mix of blue and yellow light gleaming off a long, polished, blade.
Echo stood there, sword to Zane's heart. It rested against the surface of the battery, ever so slightly straining with warning. However, it never pierced through.
Silence hung in the air like a heavy blanket as Zane watched Echo's eyes. Golden light almost overpowered the flickering blue, illuminating Echo's rusted body. Copper that started to oxidize around the edges, long stuck bolts and rust specks that dotted his face like freckles. His jaw hung from his face like a marionette's, pulled into a scowl decorated with a bit of black lipstick.
The sword dropped from Zane's heart as Echo seemed to relax. He stood up straighter, the chain on his studded belt clinking with trinkets. Baggy cargo pants coated with patches matched his equally decorated leather vest, colorful explosions of logos, faces, patterns. An equally baggy sweater rested underneath, carefully torn and cut in satisfying patterns.
"You look like shit." Echo's expression relaxed a bit. Zane wasn't used to the lack of eyeliner on his face, usually adding an edge to every bend of metal in his brother's eyes.
"Yeah." Zane croaked plainly. More hydraulic fluid spattered out from his mouth to the floor, looking like blue poison as it splashed in the puddle on the carpet.
"My landlord is going to fucking kill me-," Echo grumbled, a too familiar reaction to the mess of oil on the ground. "Get in. Now."
Even if Zane could manage to squeeze out an answer, Echo didn't give him time. Solid metal hands grabbed his shoulder and elbow, gently yanking him inside the apartment.
His hands were scalding hot compared to Zane's.
Zane didn't know why he was here.
Various tools, both rusted and new, were spread across the kitchen floor and table. As specks of rust settled in the grout, the sound of clanging metal reverberated across cracked porcelain tiles.
Zane laid on the floor, disconnected arm laid out next to him. Echo had immediately marched him to the kitchen and forced him off his feet, loudly dragging several toolboxes and containers of scraps from under their rickety table and furniture.
"Morro has been dragged away by Skylor," Loud clinking rustled from a thick bag of tools as Echo pulled out a well-worn screwdriver. "So you don't have to worry about him barging in, or whatever."
"I don't mind your boyfriend." Zane murmured quietly, feeling Echo pulling down his shredded gi and armor to get to his neck.
"It's not that, your attempts at trying to talk to him are... painful," There was a clicking of gears as Echo tightened the screwdriver in place, starting to carefully unwind Zane's dented neck plate. "You sound like you're trying to talk down a damn tiger."
"You can't talk down tigers."
"You can't talk down Morro."
"I see why you get along so well."
Echo tried to hide a snicker as he gingerly removed the plate, Zane could sense alerts of exposed wiring around his neck. Copper hands dove back into the tool bag and grabbed frayed rags.
"Try not to talk, I'll mop up some of the fluid." The bristles of the rag gently brushed on Zane's inner workings, and he watched as Echo removed them- now stained in neon blue oil.
His eyes traced Echo's work as best he could, they began digging into the coils and hydraulics of Zane's throat with pliers and wrenches, tightening opened parts, replacing wires, and removing debris. His brow furrowed further and further, the icy liquid of Zane's core slowly coating his hands. But eventually, Zane could hear his voice clearing up. The spillage into his windpipe was ceasing, leaving his throat unblocked.
"Thank you," There was an exhale of small relief, the gurgle in the back of Zane's neck stopping. Echo grimaced and grabbed an already dirtied rag, wiping his hands. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not done yet, I did your throat first so we could talk," Echo stood up to his full height, heavy feet thumping around as he circled his brother. "You showed up at my apartment door looking like you exploded."
There was a wince in both of them. Zane saw a rare twinge of regret in Echo's eyes.
"You showed up at my apartment."
There was a pause as Echo stopped circling right near Zane's head. He tried to crane his neck to catch a glimpse of why his brother fell silent, but Echo's head was turned away.
"My." The former general repeated, turning back. His mouth rested open, metallic tongue pressed against his tooth gap. "Apartment.
Zane shakily tried to push himself up, feeling the tremor in his elbow as he struggled to sit upright. Much harder with one arm.
"Yes. You are my brother, you are a nindroid. I needed hel-"
His little brother's hand flew to his chest, pushing him back down. Firm, but gentle.
"I'm not stupid, thanks," A growl twisted in his tone, sharp yellow eyes narrowing. "The last thing I would be to you is your first choice as a safe house. Hell, I'm probably not even your second. Or third."
"You've got bullets in your neck. Your eye has been blasted to bits. Your heart is out and-" A sharp puff of steam. Echo's body untensed. "Zane, I know you don't trust me enough to... deal with all this."
"I thought you'd know how to assist me the bes-"
"Bullshit," The scratchy creak of rusted metal that came from Echo's knees as he dropped to a crouch made Zane's head hurt more then it already did. "Hear that? My body is older than yours by decades, brother. I don't know jack shit about newer models. It's not like Cryptor ever lets me patch him up. What do you want from me? Because it's not a fix. Where are the ninja?"
"They are... injured. I came here after a battle instead of disturbing any rest."
"Why didn't you at least make sure they made it home safe? If everyone who can fix you is down, and you are also injured, you must have been accompanied by the old bat or something. There's no way he let you walk away alone." Echo's speedy responses felt like a mockery to Zane's slow, choked-out statements. "What do you want from me?"
Zane didn't know how to respond to that. He wasn't prepared for an interrogation. This isn't what he was here for.
They stared at each-other. Brother to brother, in pure silence.
Something about this felt familiar. Zane, injured, exposed, vulnerable. At his lowest and grappling with feelings he couldn't quite handle. And a silent figure, looming over him with his face but not. His voice but not. His blood on his hands and driving words into Zane's mind like spikes.
A loyal servant to a great evil and a tired, tired nindroid who just wanted answers.
These days, Zane couldn't tell who was who.
"Would you believe me," The words came out even slower this time, weak and silent. Almost a whistle as they exited Zane's ear. But Echo still waited, patiently. Too patiently. "If you were the only person I trusted to help."
"Help you? Brother, there hasn't been a single moment where I haven't kicked your ass the minute I got the chance to-"
"Not. Me."
Something collapsed in exhaustion in the back of Zane's mind, a Sisyphus that had been desperately rolling up a boulder to keep it from slamming into Zane's memory.
His sleeves and gi were torn, of course. He was injured, attacked. By several henchmen with guns, with crowbars, with whatever weapon they could rip off the wall. And also by his own hands- clawing at gloves and collars and hems with an animalistic desperation, trying to rip himself of the metallic smell of red, human blood. But no matter how he tried the smell stuck until he couldn't tell it from his own body.
Alarms and communications, delayed and pushed away, surged through Zane's mind with a devastating speed. A sharp, cold, memory. He stood alone- no, no, he stood among. Among the ninja, his friends, his family. A simple mission, museum robbery. They targeted high-classified artifacts, an exhibit about the ninja. Heavily guarded, never seemingly guarded enough. Regular, regular.
Of course, the nindroids being specifically targeted in the fight was not regular. Kai throwing himself in front of Zane was regular. Kai screaming with a painful shriek Zane had not heard ever was not regular. The smell of charred meat should only be normal during barbecues. Zane diving for him with hands ready to ice the wound was normal. Something pulling his hands back and someone driving a buzzing, glowing, weapon into his face was not.
It wasn't that, though, that made.... This, happen. No, no it was Cole reaching for the staff that fell from the Aspheera display. It was Cole, protecting Kai with his whole body, desperately trying to hold up a barrier of earth around Zane, reaching for the staff that fell from the Aspheera display. It was Zane, slumped over on a display, shards of his eye spread around him, oil dripping across sharp scars of electricity, watching Cole reach for the staff that fell from the Aspheera display. It was the feeling in the back of his brain, a voice, a face, a cold that ran down his body at a level he should be used to (for 60 years), climbing through the cracks made by the blast, watching Cole reach for His staff that fell from his banisher's display.
It was common misconception that blood bounced on ice. If that was true, it would have made him rip all his gi off- squandered by what was left of the foot soldiers. Instead, he saw the blood make its way onto his sleeve as the impaled soldier, frost growing over his wounds, let out a last gurgled breath. And he dropped his grip on the man’s neck, hearing the wet thud as he hit the ground beside Zane. Slowly, horribly, he turned to face the ninja.
Fear set deep in their eyes like fiery hot brands. And while the bullets and crowbars and blasts stung on every inch of Zane's skin, nothing dug as deep as the way Lloyd looked up at him. A too-familiar shock etched into his expression. And as Zane watched his lips move in a silent realization, the blood on his gi became overstimulating.
"That staff's a replica.. how-" Lloyd's brow furrowed over a black eye. Something unearthed in Zane's mind. This wasn't the first time they were like this, a kneeling warrior in green and a heartless, frozen heart.
Oh FSM, this wasn't the first time.
He didn't know what was left in that exhibit. He didn't turn back to look, only heard the scraping of a staff against ice and the crunch of footprints in snow.
The fear in their eyes followed him like a falcon, burning into his skin as he miraculously sprinted across rooftops and stumbled through alleys. Was it snowing before? Looking back, maybe it truly was just rain. Rain that froze and smashed on the ground like tiny crystals as it hit his skin.
He wasn't going back to the monastery. Not when they'd look at him with confusion and fear at the unknown... monster, that they faced. Not when Lloyd would be the only one with sparks of recognition, staring down the same man that almost ended his fate those years ago. He didn't want another pair of green eyes looking with that same horror.
So he stumbled, he leaped, an engine of a sickly power he almost ripped out of his chest purring in his heart. Electric blue dripping behind him as he ran. Because he didn't trust himself. Because he didn't trust the ninja. Because he just wanted everything to stop and he wanted someone who could beat it out of him because there was no thought in his mind or movement in his limb he could trust.
And then he was on the porcelain floor of a small apartment, looking up at his brother. His brother, who didn't look at him with fear or confusion or was a fragile, gentle human who made Zane lose all sense of self-preservation when they made eye contact. Echo was going to give it to him straight, slam him through several floors of a warehouse and call him a "prissy motherfucker" before ever trying to talk him down like a rabid wolf. Rip his heart out of his chest and tie him to a chair before holding his hands and calling him a hero as they stood before a woman who he took everything away from.
Echo knew what it was like to be looked at like a monster, to be feared, to have a reputation that followed like a bright red banner. And he knew how to use it.
Zane didn't.
His brother's eyebrow raised, waiting.
"Well?," His tongue clicked in impatience, sliding down to sitting position. "Are you going to answer my question or are you still digging through... whatever you're digging through."
"I," A wave of exhaustion hit Zane like a damn truck. His body suddenly caught up to his mind, the adrenaline keeping him moving fading away. He could even feel the cold energy coursing through his body begin to turn lukewarm. The blur and pixelation from his eye began coming into focus, alarms ringing throughout his entire mind at a louder frequency than ever before. "Brother I have Bad News"
"You're gonna pass out."
"Yes. My apologies."
Echo sighed and rolled his eyes, lightly slapping Zane's knee, still impaled with a crowbar. The ninja lightly mumbled an "ow".
"Freeloader." Echo scowled, but even he couldn't hide the toothy smirk flicking at the corners of his mouth.
Something about that felt nice. And Zane tried his best to smile back, but he wasn't sure if he really did before his vision went black, and his head dropped onto the tiles with a loud clank.
Zane didn't know why he was here.
As his sensors all slowly came back online, he felt his one eye blink open. Cold, hard flooring rested under his hands and feet as he moved them, gently regaining all feeling in his limbs. As he tried to lift his arm up onto his chest, it stopped at a piece of fabric that laid over him. He blinked at the presence, finally fully waking up.
He lifted his head, looking over his body to see a ratty blanket. It was heavy wool, but had enough holes and tears that a bit of the previous insulation it carried was gone. As Zane looked at where his head once laid, he saw a pillow wrapped tightly in a towel, now also stained with blue oil.
He reached to touch his other eye, fingers meeting fabric that wrapped around the broken remains in his eye socket. Lifting the blanket, Zane analyzed the rest of his form.
The crowbar had been removed, the socket temporarily repaired. His arm was reattached, plates gently realigned, and any debris and bullets digging into his wires had been removed into a small tray on the floor. He felt exhausted still, that ache of not quite healed wounds, and felt the plates of his body realign. As he fully relaxed, he realized that voices were coming from the other room.
"I don't like this apartment and I want to leave," A steely, deep voice sounded from behind the doorway. It was monotone, with a slight distortion that was less analog than Zane and Echo's. "It is easy to awake him. I'm going to go administer electrocution."
There was the sound of heavy boots taking a step towards Zane's direction. Then there was a loud clank as something connected with it.
"Yeah, no," The unmistakable voice of Echo sighed in frustration. "He's gonna need more time to rest. I don't want all the work we did to get fucked up."
"Hmpf," The second voice almost growled. "My shift starts in an hour. Borg calling the police to report I didn't clock in would be an inconvenience."
Zane knew who this was now.
Suddenly Cryptor stopped talking.
"I can hear you." Came before the sound of rapidly approaching, almost rhythmic, footsteps. Even though he knew Cryptor wouldn't hurt him, there was still a jolt of fear.
Rounding the corner, with a glowing red eyes, was the former General Cryptor. He, like Echo, beared resemblance to Zane. However, unlike Echo, Cryptor was sharper. He had longer fingers, pointed elbows and knees that bended just a little too far back. His "hair" was clipped shorter- resembling just a bit more of an army cut. He also looked even less... human. His left eye resembled more of a flies', multiple eyes and irises combined together to make a pattern of hypnotizing lights. The visible wires and jaw connectors on his face distracted from his lower jaw, which occasionally unfolded to reveal chelicerae- pincers that hid his knife-sharp teeth. However, usually they were folded in to make an almost permanent displeased frown.
His baby brother stood in the doorway, wearing a crisp Borg Industries uniform. He was only missing the baseball cap, which he held on his chest instead of over his bright red hair. Around one of the well-polished work boots was an ankle monitor, glowing a dim blue.
"Brother." Cryptor marched over to him, narrowing his eyes as red irises scanned the injuries. Zane smiled lightly, at least he thought, because he couldn't quite feel his face.
"Hello," Silver legs trembled as Zane tried to rise from the ground, shakily standing on his feet. "When did you arrive?"
“6 AM. 4 hours ago,” The tiles creaked with Cryptor’s weight as he stepped forward, yanking Zane up by his armpits. “Echo called me to assist with your injuries. He said he needed a ‘shinier guy’ to take a look.”
The two older nindroids locked eyes. Echo shrugged, breaking the contact slightly sheepishly.
“And also,” Cryptor let out a buzz, making his older brothers focus on him again. “Borg industries owns that exhibit, and I had to comb through footage because Cyrus’s phone was being constantly called by his-“
There was a very loud smack as Echo pushed Cryptor’s face away. He flashed a furrowed brow at the general, as if he’d broken some kind of agreement. Echo sighed.
“Alright, your buddies are looking for you,” Yellow pupils scanned Zane’s face, searching for his reaction. “You’re awake now, what are you gonna do?”
More tile creaking filled in the silence. Zane wobbled on his legs, struggling to shuffle through his thoughts. The ninja COULD track him and call him, but he must have shut off the feature subconsciously. He felt the tugging of unchecked notifications in the back of his mind, but pushed them to the side. Not yet.
“What are you going to do?” Boldness crept into Zane’s voice that he wasn’t expecting, maybe it was that this is the longest Echo ever let him into his apartment.
“Hm,” Echo suppressed another smile, eyebrows shooting up on his head. “If you’re trying to avoid them so badly, you can stay until Morro gets back..”
Cryptor slyly tried to make eye contact with Echo, but looked away the minute their eyes met.
“You can stay until your shift starts,” Jacket studs dug into Cryptor’s forearms as his older brother walked past, elbowing him. “I can only tolerate both of you for so long.”
Zane didn’t know why he was here.
The couch was only a bit ratty, obviously cleaned more frequently. Residues of oil could be sensed among the cushions. The pillows were all mismatched, one being an intricate throw pillow stitched with elaborate citrus fruits, while the was a quite itchy green and orange sequin heart pillow. There was a soft blanket thrown over the arm, a visibly repaired tear and more oil stains.
Echo was sat on the left of the couch, one leg over a couch arm and the other crossed under him. A bright red game controller was gripped in his hands.
Cryptor was knelt on a cushion on the floor, having been ripped off the couch. He held another red controller, after breaking the first purple one. There was a low growl that came from him every few seconds, and his pincers were fully exposed from frustration.
“Unfair! That was not a legal move,” He fully snapped to face Echo, pointing a sharp finger at his face. “We are not playing by speed run rules!”
“Speed run rules are just regular rules,” Echo’s smile cut quickly across his face, gaze never leaving the tv in front of them. “I’m being completely fair.”
Every few minutes, their banter would break the silence. The brothers were focused on the game, usually the only sounds accompanying were the soft whirr of machine fans and the clicking of buttons.
Zane sat on the right of the couch, leaning on a stack of pillows he made against the arm. His legs were stretched on the couch, receding only slightly to not make contact with Echo’s. He carefully maneuvered the black controller, going over every racing strategy in his head.
Usually, when the ninja played this, there was shouting and screaming. Constant light arguing over results of the game, cushions thrown across rooms and raucous laughter. It was nice, to be elbowed and kneed in a room full of smiles and banter.
But while guilt and fear still lay heavy in his stomach, Zane took in the silence. It was calm, something his relationship with his brothers had never been. They were all focused, saving most of the banter for next time someone starts a fight. They had enough of those. He sunk just a little further into the couch, letting the ache in his joints quiet down.
Out of the corner of his eye, Zane saw something flashing in Echo’s pocket. There was only a second for a muffled buzz before Echo quickly snapped his phone out. It was quiet and fast, but Zane saw a glimpse of an unnamed ID he definitely recognized as one of the ninja’s personal numbers. His brother clicked decline and slid it back in his jacket. Zane diverted his gaze as Echo glanced at him, trying to see if he noticed. When he was satisfied that Zane hadn’t, Echo leaned back, and let out a small chuckle as he once again passed Cryptor’s car.
Zane’s nail began to tap against his controller.
“Thank you.” He spelled in Morse code. Echo immediately straightened up.
“I just don’t like talking to them,” His little brother silently tapped back, refusing to look at Zane. “You are going to have to call one of them at some point.”
Zane didn’t respond. He felt himself tense. Echo finally flashed him a look, eyebrow raised.
“Scared?” Echo clicked his chipped painted nails over the buttons.
His own silver fingers lightly raised from the controller, but didn’t hit it. He didn’t really feel like a ninja right now.
“Yes,” There was a long pause before Zane continued. “They’re going to forgive me.”
“That’s a bad thing?”
“You don’t know what I did.”
Echo’s eyes darted down to Cryptor.
Oh. Zane looked away from them both, grip on the controller tightening.
“He told you.”
“Cryptor was in charge of security logs while Borg consoled Samur- Pixal,” Zane felt something in his chest grow heavy at that mention. “Saw everything. So when I called him, he was already suspecting where you snuck off too.”
“I didn’t know where else to go,” He tried to get his eyes to focus on the little car being driven by a mocking avatar of himself on the tv. “You get it.”
“Surrounding yourself with more evil people to make yourself feel better, huh?,” A sharp grin yet again smeared over Echo’s face, tilting his head a bit upwards. “Zane Julien, hero of ninjago city, using the poor despicable general of the Sons of Garmadon to garner sympathy-“
“I don’t think that lowly of you.” Zane stopped the Morse code, saying it aloud in a stern voice. Echo stopped, slightly turning to him.
“Finally,” Cryptor silently grumbled. “I can understand Morse, you know.”
“I think you are powerful. I think you are angry. I think you have made mistakes,” The steely edge in his voice was surprising himself, if the suppressed shock on Echo’s face wasn’t enough. “I think you have made peace with yourself in a way I cannot. And I know you-“
Zane paused yet again, but he tried to relax and continue.
“I know you would not blink twice at my state. I know you would look at my power and sins and understand,” A small crack in his voice, something knotted in his voice box. “You wouldn’t recoil at my touch or try to say over and over it’s going to be okay when I was holding a man with a- a spear through his head because you’ve done it too.”
They both had put down the controller, and made eye contact. Zane noticed that Echo has his eyeliner back on.
“I know the last thing you want is to be compared to me,” A guilty laugh came from Zane’s throat. “But it’s so nice to have someone that knows what it’s like.”
Echo’s brow furrowed a bit as he studied Zane’s face. Cryptor remained silent, but very quietly shut off the tv.
“I don’t know what you did to relate to ME, of all people,” Finally, his brother began. “But you were at my door with a crowbar in your leg and your arm in your hands. And you were coming to the one person that would have finished you off in a heartbeat, instead of your heroic, caring found family. You didn’t want care from me, did you?”
“I know you do what I don’t want.” Zane smiled sheepishly. Yellow eyes rolled.
“You take too many chances.”
“Would you like to remind us how you died?,” Cryptor finally piped up, turning to the two. “I’m sure taking the blame for a botched mission in front of Garmadon wasn’t a chance at all.”
“Oh shut it,” Echo pointed at Zane. “THIS GUY froze you into a popsicle. Twice!”
There was a chuckle from each of them, before Zane made eye contact with Echo again.
“Can I hug you?”
There was a click as Echo slightly angled his head, looking upwards in thought.
“As long as you promise to never expect this of me again.”
Zane didn’t answer before he wrapped his arms all the way around Echo. He squeezed tight, the comfort of knowing he couldn’t accidentally break a bone or injure a soft organ comforting him. Echo slowly placed his hands on Zane’s back, giving a little tug.
“This is better than you trying to make me join you,” His little brother whispered, avoiding eye contact. “Thank you.”
“I haven’t earned that,” Zane whispered back, even quieter. “There’s 60 years I can’t undo.”
As they pulled apart, Echo shook off a bit of confusion. He glanced over at Cryptor, who shrugged.
“Alright. Call your ninja, please,” He smacked Zane’s shoulder, checking his phone. “Morro gets home in like, 20 minutes, and he’s gonna take any advances as indoctrination.”
“I will accompany you back,” Floorboards squeaked loudly as Cryptor stood, brushing invisible dust off his uniform. “Tell them I found you unconscious.”
Echo nodded appreciatively in his direction, before also nodding at Zane.
“Don’t think this means we’re all good yet, but-“ He paused, smiling a little. “I know I’ll see you again, soon.”
Zane smiled widely, nodding right back.
The Emporer and the generals silently smiled at each other.
Zane knew why he was there.