Chapter Text
Cole was brought to a sleepy haze at nearly 6:30 in the morning by a surprisingly upbeat melody. Not all that unusual and something that normally would have prompted a simple groan and blankets to be pulled up over his head, but he was hit with reality after being blessed with the sight of Jay nearly falling out of bed with a line of drool on his pillow and stuffed bear on the hardwood floor. He was reminded that he was not at his parent’s home.
Now he really was close to giving back into the bed and facing Wu’s wrath when he inevitably missed his alarm, but he was saved by a the sugary sweet smell that accompanied that far away, muffled song.
Breakfast pastries would always be enough of a motivator to get up.
So, putting all his ninja stealth training to use, Cole slipped out of his warm covers to be assaulted by the uninsulated floor of the monastery to creep into the hallway.
There were no lights on, which was expected at the early morning hour but upon reaching the kitchen he was shocked to find that it was the same case. There was barely enough brightness from the electronic clocks of the appliances to see Zane who was practically gliding across the room as he went from mixing bowls to the stovetop in an almost chaotic fashion. Of course, being that it was Zane, it was somehow made to look fluid, organized, and natural as he continued to hum. The song was foreign to Cole’s ears, but the rhythm invoked a sense of nostalgia. It held a bounce, and a drawl.
Midturn, Zane suddenly stopped, batter sluggishly rolling over the sides of the blue glass of the bowl he held. His fogged over blue eyes widened at Cole standing in the kitchen entry way. Neither moved for a moment, staring in an embarrassed manner at being caught, and with a hand pressing into his throat Zane’s song was cut off, plunging the two into unnatural silence. Cole was the first to get his wits about him.
“Uh-”
“Good morning, Cole.”
But to be expected, Zane recovered more fully.
Placing the bowl on the counter next to the stove, Zane wiped his hands on the hanging towel and flicked on the lights, both boys groaning and covering their eyes in tandem.
“Ugh- Good morning, Zane. You’re up early.”
“I did not mean to wake you, and I apologize. I had intended to surprise you but would appear that it is too late for that.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it, man. The smell of pancakes is always a good thing to wake up to.” He assumed they were pancakes, he hoped they were pancakes… or waffles… didn’t look like crepes, but they would be good too. “Why were you trying to surprise me though? Don’t get it wrong, I will never turn down a good breakfast, but am I missing something here? Wu’s birthday, a national holiday, or are those one in the same?” Cole gave him a cheeky smile, but Zane didn’t return it, choosing rather to cock his head to the side in his infuriatingly adorable puppy-dog like manner.
“Wu’s birthday has already passed, nor is it a national holiday. But yes, today is a celebration day. It is a small token, but I wanted to commemorate your time at the monastery. According to Wu, today marks half-a-year.”
“Wait, really?”
“I cannot personally verify this information, but Wu says it is true.”
In all honesty, Cole had completely lost track of the dates while living with the old man and later, the two other boys that would join them. He had only been at the mountain for a week before one Jay Walker had been made his roommate. Zane had come along the beginning of Winter – the first snowfall to be exact.
That was nearly three months ago. Spring would come upon them soon, that was a rather odd thought.
Shaking his head, letting his unbrushed black hair fall into his eyes, Cole refocused on Zane who was digging around in the fridge and completely oblivious to his reminiscing.
“So… what can I do to help?”
That got the teen’s attention; with a jolt he straightened up, hitting his head on one of the shelves. A few blueberries made their grand entrance, rolling into Cole’s sight from behind the refrigerator door.
“I- That will not be necessary, this is meant to be for you. You would not let me help in setting up my birthday celebration, I do not see why you should need to prepare your anniversary breakfast.”
“I don’t need to. I want to. There’s a big difference there. Also, I’m sure a birthday dinner is more important than an arbitrary anniversary I forgot about.”
“You made up a birthday date for me, because I cannot remember my actual one.”
“Not the point.”
Picking the last blueberry off the floor, the teens stood in an awkward pause with Zane shuffling his feet against the tile. But finally, he looked up with a sheepish smile.
“I suppose you could get out the skillet and chocolate chips…”
“Yes, chef Zane!”
He started mumbling again as they mixed the different toppings into the split batter.
Silently, Cole listened as he mixed his half – the portion that Zane had designated for the pancakes that would have chocolate chips. But it was a different melody this time, more gentle in nature than the first.
Zane never did things halfway it seemed, not even when it came to simple ticks because it became apparent that this was a fully realized song and not just a string of notes like most would have found themselves repeating. When the indecipherable chorus was repeated for the third time, Cole tried his hand at joining in.
It was a hesitant whistle, but the one thing that Cole had been praised about at the Marty Oppenheimer School of Performing Arts had been his projection. The dissonance between the different styles of music was jarring, something his former teachers would have despised, but that made Cole like it all the more.
It wasn’t practiced perfectionism. It was something real between the two boys that were learning to be brothers.
Zane took back over to finish with the song with the notes that the other didn’t know, and only then did Cole finally speak.
“What’s the song called?”
“You know my memory is not the best-”
“Yet you have it memorized… or at least the melody.”
“I do not know the name of it. From what I can remember it is a love ballad, which I find paradoxical because… because…”
He and Jay still didn’t know the true extent of his memory problems, what was common sense to most was a mystery to him and obscure facts could be pulled from Zane like he was an encyclopedia. That being said, it was clear that this current faltering was because of them.
It was wrong to see this anxiousness from Zane- even in asking questions he was always so assured.
“Hey, it’s alright. You don’t need to strain yourself. If you don’t remember that one, do you know the first one you had been singing?”
“No, but that one is melancholy. At least, from what I can recall, it is.”
“It definitely sounded happier, though.”
“In musicology terms perhaps the emotions don’t line up with the cords, but is perception not like that? I have noticed that the way someone presents is not always how someone always is. It makes learning, or re-learning, mannerisms difficult but it also happens to make it more fascinating. I do not understand, but I want to…”
“It would probably help if you spoke more, Frosty.” A half-joke/ half-truth, and Cole was reading himself to explain that to Zane when he cut through.
“Perhaps, but it is hardly worth talking if no one will listen. You, Jay, and Wu will listen. It’s part of why I have stayed.”
Zane couldn’t see Cole turn to face him, eyebrows pinched. He was too busy greasing the pan. The batter wasn’t the only thing that was thick; there was an uncomfortable sticky feeling stuck in Cole’s chest.
“You’ve thought about leaving..?”
“Do not make any offense; that is not a reflection on this place or any of you. I have simply moved around a lot. I suppose that is what makes six months an accomplishment. I know that it is somewhat unusual that I chose to celebrate now. Typically, anniversaries are observed at the year.”
“I get that.” The pan sizzled with the first ladle of batter being poured in. Normally Zane would be watching it carefully, but he turned when Cole spoke that head-tilt no longer a symbol of his naivety but his curiosity leaving Cole to hastily explain. “The accomplishment of it. Not the anniversary thing, but that’s cool too. Really any excuse for pancakes.
“Really?”
“I- I moved a lot too.”
What Cole didn’t tell Zane about was that his wandering was due to running, a chosen homelessness. As far as those here were concerned, Cole had a loving and living mother and father. Ones that he chose not to talk about.
Zane never talked about his parents.
“I miss the novelty of traveling, but I will not lie and say that it is not nice to have security and structure. And well, I sense that it is important that I remain here. Perhaps it is important that you do as well. In the very least, I would very much miss your company if you decided to leave…do not eat the batter raw. Many of the ingredients are not recommended to be consumed before thorough cooking.”
“But it smells so good!”
Pushing his own bowl higher up the counter, Zane turned to face Cole, elbow resting on the worn wood. “If it is a temptation for you, can I suggest you instead set the table while I finish cooking the pancakes. Jay and Wu should be rousing soon.”
“Indeed, Zane.”
Jumping at the voice, Cole hit the end of the spatula handle that he had been using to stir the batter. In a wide, slow-motion arc, it flew through the sky splattering tan goop on the counter, the floor, and both boys. A single chocolate chip stood plainly against the rouge slurry that clung to Zane’s face, right on his nose.
“Good morning to you too, Master Wu.” Running his fingers through his hair, Cole huffed, feeling his loose waves sticking together. “A warning next time would be greatly appreciated.”
“Ugh-”
Turning back to the noise, Cole found Zane in an un-Zane like manner, seized up with his hands held stiff up by his shoulders like he was surrendering. With the heel of his palm, the taller boy scrubbed his face trying to get the offending sludge off the subtly pink flush of his cheeks.
“That was- unpleasant.”
And both Wu and Cole laughed, Zane nervously joining in though it was obvious he didn’t know why. The laugh only crescendoed when Jay stumbled in with bleary eyes and a blanket dragging behind him.
With a withered hand, Wu attempted to hide his smile as they all quieted down. He addressed Zane who was still attempting to rid the batter from his person and clothing.
“Perhaps, next time I go to the market you can come with me and pick out an apron. Would you like that?”
“That would be… appreciated.”
The years following, Cole would hear those melodies around their various homes somewhat frequently.
He would come to learn that the love ballad was paradoxical to Zane because he learned it from his father who had never had a romantic partner or ever voiced the desire to have one. But Cole wouldn’t learn that until Zane had rediscovered he was a robot; until Zane had flipped that memory switch and been allowed to remember his childhood as being anything other than wandering the forest as a lonely shell.
It was almost always that one that Zane would hum, but if he caught on that someone was listening, he would switch to the one that Cole had whistled along to as they had worked side by side.
Zane never sung the lyrics, Cole had never asked for the song titles again. Neither of those things mattered to either of them. They were Zane’s songs; they didn’t need to be anything more.
Until now.
Because now, Zane was dead.
His brother was dead and for some reason, the world had decided that they had personally known him and that their words about him were meaningful and priceless.
And sure… they knew of his robotic nature.
They knew his creation date and inventor’s name.
They could tell of his rescues and his heroics.
But how could they not, when he had been the one to defeat the OverLord.
When he had died for them.
This realm owed Zane Julian, and they decided to pay that debt by “remembering” him.
What a joke.
Because none of them knew Zane’s lopsided smile, or his hard cutting teasing. None of them knew his songs.
Not even Cole.
So that’s why he sat in his dad’s living room as the Royal Blacksmith set up his gramophone.
When Zane’s Father had passed away, he had gone back to the treehouse. He returned a few days later carrying two small boxes and questions he refused to answer. But now Cole was confident that he could at least partially answer the question of what was in the boxes, because before he followed in Kai and Jay’s steps by leaving the team, he had stopped by the nindroid’s room for one last time. He had sat on his brother’s bed and talked to the ceiling as if it wasn’t a sign he was going crazy and in doing that, he saw them.
Two vinyl records sitting in an overflowing bookcase.
Lou broke his son from his thoughts.
“Which one do you want to start with first?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
The record sleeves were not original and the vinyl themselves were well worn, with the titles and artist names rubbed off. But Cole didn’t need to know the titles to recognize the bounce to the song right away.
He hadn’t expected it to start twangy strings, but the lyrics caught him off guard even more…
~~~
Beneath this snowy mantle cold and clean…
…The snowbird sings the song he always sings…
… Anything that it would tell me, that's the thing that I would do
But now I feel such emptiness within
For the thing that I want most in life's the thing that I can't win
Spread your tiny wings and fly away
And take the snow back with you where it came from on that day…
…Yeah, if I could, you know that I would fly away with you
~~~
“-that one is melancholy.” Zane had said.
If that wasn’t the truth.
Learning the lyrics was a mistake.
It wasn’t Zane’s song anymore – the singer had feeling, but it wasn’t Zane’s.
When Zane mumbled it while he made meals, it would be low and fast. When he set up the training equipment the song was quiet and anxious.
The other ninja could guess how his students had done on a test based on how clipped the melody became while he graded.
That was how Zane sung it, never with articulate and depressing words, but with all the emotion to make up for it.
“Do you want me to put on the other record?”
If it was the other song, which Cole knew it was it was going to be…
“No.” Cole’s voice was unrecognizable as he sunk down into the couch, feeling smaller than he ever had.
Zane had always maintained that one’s proper slow tempo and even harmonies no matter what task had lain before him. That ballad had given the impression that all was well and under control.
But it was a lie.
Possibly the only lie Zane had ever told.
It was only when his dad sat down and took his much larger son into his arms, with the vinyl abandoned to spin in slowing silent circles, that Cole found himself unable to breathe. It wasn’t at finding Zane’s faceplate, or the memorial service, or when Kai and Jay left, or even sitting on his dead brother’s bed - and knowing that brought a layer of shame in to mix with the grief. With tears and snot and a tweed coat trapped a death grip, Cole wished to scream. He wanted to scream until his throat was raw and bleeding, until thoughts could no longer form, and the hurt became a dull ache in his chest…
It isn’t fair.
It isn’t fair!
But no sound came, and the only thing he was going to get was a headache and puffy eyes, and it wasn’t fair.
Death had come quietly, stealing away his mom and his brother in fell swoops, and now nothing was going to be alright again.
Not without Zane.
In the early morning rays the next day, armed with nothing but an axe and a duffel bag of clothes, Cole set out to the forest to take up a job opportunity.
He left his dad with a single note on the kitchen counter:
“Send the records to Wu. Thank you for everything, Dad.”