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It was a cold day, and Cole knew that it couldn’t be more fitting. He found it hard to believe that it already had been a month since Zane’s death, since Zane’s bunk sat empty, since they ate a meal that he cooked. It had only felt like days.
Cole still felt numb. It didn’t feel real, none of it did. A part of him still expected to see Zane in the kitchen after a mission, or on the couch, trying to make sense of whatever was on the television. Not dead. Not gone.
There was a light dusting of snow on Zane’s statue when Cole arrived. It seemed fitting that the statue of the Master of Ice had snow on it, yet a part of Cole wanted to clear it off, too. He didn’t know what Zane would’ve wanted.
Truthfully, Cole didn’t know what Zane would’ve wanted at all. He didn’t know how Zane would’ve wanted them to grieve, to move on. He didn’t know what Zane desired for the world when he was gone. At this point, Cole was just going through the motions, hoping that he was doing the right thing.
But there was no right thing, was there? All there was was loss and confusion.
There was a reason Cole ran to the mountains when his mom died and when his father’s expectations became too unbearable; escaping to nature was escaping your problems. Every part of him wanted to do the same thing now, yet he knew that he couldn’t. He needed to help his team. He needed to be there for them, especially Jay. Lloyd, Kai, and Nya were struggling, that he knew, but none were hurting as much as Jay was.
Jay had never lost anyone before. Jay had never felt the sting of death until Zane, and Cole knew that Jay had no clue how to feel. Cole couldn’t let Jay go through this alone. He remembered back when it was just himself, Jay, and Zane. How they had grown so close in such a short time. How that, despite how different they all were, he knew that a piece of him would die if he lost one of them.
That piece was his heart, and he could feel it crumbling. He couldn’t imagine how Jay was feeling now, he had grown close to Zane, too. And despite Cole and Jay being at odds right now, Cole couldn’t let Jay work through it all alone.
Cole knew, in that moment, that Zane would’ve wanted them all to help each other. So that’s what Cole was going to do.
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He found Jay in the Birchwood Forest, within the walls of the workshop that Zane once called home. Jay was hunched over one of the workbenches, running a hand through his hair, pouring over notes upon notes, drawing of Zane, and even a drawing of the falcon that Dr. Julien made.
“Jay.”
Jay yelped, turning around, his arm pulled back to throw a wrench in Cole’s direction, but stopped before he could let it go, his eyes widening in recognition.
“Cole! What…what are you doing here?” Jay began, wary, and he looked like he was preparing for a fight.
“I just wanted to check up on you.” Cole exclaimed slowly, “What are you up to?”
“‘I’m fine! Just busy.” Jay was clearly getting defensive, and Cole let him step further back.
Cole couldn’t help but take in Jay’s appearance, his heart growing heavier and heavier as he did so. Jay looked like he hadn’t slept or eaten in days, his freckles dark against his pale skin. His blue eyes, usually so expressive and happy, were dimmed with sadness and caution.
“Busy with what?” Cole asked carefully, not wanting to upset Jay, “Nya told me you’ve been away for a few days.”
“I’m rebuilding him.” Jay replied shortly, pointing to one of the desks. “I’m getting him back.”
Cole frowned as he looked at all of the notes and blueprints scattered around them, some clearly Jay’s, others not. He didn’t know why he was surprised Jay was trying to do this, because of course the inventor of the team would want to bring Zane back, and of course Jay would think that there was some hope in a hopeless situation. It broke Cole’s heart to see.
“Jay. Zane’s gone.”
“No, he’s not. He’s a robot, and if I learned anything from living in a junkyard, it is that everything broken can be fixed!” Jay insisted, his voice rising.
“He’s not broken. He’s gone.” Cole said softly, brokenly, and he could see the desperation clear on Jay’s face, the agony that Jay was no doubt feeling. Then, the agony morphed to anger, and Cole knew that things were going to get back, fast.
“You don’t know anything, Cole!” Jay replied, stepping away from his grip. “Why are you even here, anyways? It’s not like you care about me.”
“I do care about you, Jay.”
The only response he got was a mean look, and Cole figured that he deserved that.
“And I wanted to check up on you. Zane wouldn’t want us going through this alone.” Cole couldn’t talk about the situation with Nya right now, he was only here to help Jay with Zane’s death. No matter how much Jay was trying to turn the conversation away from it, Cole wasn’t budging.
Jay shook his head rapidly, turning back to the workstation. “I can make this work. I know it.”
“He wouldn’t want you obsessing over this, Jay. You know that.”
Jay closed his eyes, his breaths short, as if he was holding back tears. Cole knew that he might be.
“But what else am I supposed to do?” Jay eventually asked weakly, his voice strained. “How am I supposed to fix this?”
Cole hesitated for a second before wrapping Jay into a hug, one that Jay stood stiffly in. “I’m so sorry, buddy, but you can’t. None of us can fix this. But I’m here to help, okay? Despite everything that happened, I’m here, and things are going to get better.”
“How?”
How indeed. How was Cole supposed to help his best friend grieve when he didn’t know how to himself?
“We’ll take it step by step. Why don’t we go home, and you could get some sleep?”
Jay nodded hesitantly, pulling away from Cole’s grip.
Silently, Cole let go of Jay and quickly gathered Jay’s bag that was tucked in the corner, slinging it over his shoulder. The two made their way up the winding stairs, Jay trailing behind, always looking back, as if he wanted to go back down. But Cole would always encourage him forward.
The snowy terrain nearly blinded Cole as he stepped out into the daylight, the white snow a stark difference to the dark interior of the workshop. Jay was soon beside him, shivering, and Cole took off his coat.
“Here, take my coat.”
Jay took it after a moment’s thought, with a muttered thank you, putting it on over his thin ninja gi. “Are things ever going to get better?”
Cole took a moment to respond. Would it? Had things ever gotten better since his mom died? Would it ever, now that Zane was gone? And would things ever get better between him and Jay? Right now, things felt pretty hopeless. Cole didn’t know exactly what to do but be honest.
“The world might seem a little dimmer, a little different, but it will get better in time, I think.” Cole eventually said, looking out to the horizon. “But I don’t really know. What I do know is that I’ll be here for you, okay? You’re not going to deal with this alone.”
Jay turned to him then, a little bit of hope in his eyes, and Cole found himself thinking that maybe they could help each other get better, that maybe the loss of a friend would be the thing that would heal what was broken between them.
Cole was wrong. It took the return of a friend, and a great sacrifice, to fix their friendship, but for now all Cole could do was hope for a brighter future ahead.