Work Text:
Maybe at some point, maybe in a way he understood, the Overlord was right about there being peace in the dark.
But maybe it’s not peace. Maybe it’s the quietness, that threatens to swallow him whole.
He doesn’t know how long it’s been since the party. He’s not sure why a party even happened. He surely didn’t feel like celebrating. Thankfully, his family didn’t say anything when he slipped away an hour in, even if he was sure they noticed.
He lay watching the ceiling. Eyes adjusting, squinting in the misty darkness. Straining for focus.
Lloyd watches the ceiling. The muddled fixture of a lamp in front of him, subtly swaying from the breeze of an open window. Did he open the window? He doesn’t know, doesn’t remember.
The lamp, and the endless glaring at such, reminds him of his younger self. Channeling his essence to ignite lightbulbs. Even if most of them shattered. There’s an urge in the back of his mind to try once more, to ignite that light once more.
Too soon.
Much too soon. Lloyd would rather focus on something more trivial like breathing. He’s unsure if even that stopped today.
He breathes slowly. The air fills his lungs. Each inhale is a struggle. As though each is shorter than the last. He breathes out.
Air isn’t really a thing of peace at least right now. Comfort won’t be the thing that will quell the gnawing cold feeling that spreads from his core.
Years ago, Master Wu had taught him and his siblings to find that peace inside oneself. But Lloyd, since perhaps birth, had always seen that to be a losing battle.
Maybe someday, Meditation would be easy and peaceful, but instead of blankness there would always be something ebbing at the surface, something to focus on —
And his attempts at such were always futile. Instead of blankness he’d find himself studying his element that would constantly buzz and burn. With his eyes closed there was only so much he could focus on, either a fiery pulse or thoughts that were too loud.
But now he just feels empty. So much so that the constant awareness is swayed to a seeping cold that he can do nothing about. He is staring blankly at the ceiling, when a voice finally speaks.
“Lloyd.” Says the voice.
It echoes through the room. It’s familiar but far all at once.
It speaks again. “Lloyd?”
A vague shadow in his peripheral he can see. It’s close enough to hear, to feel her presence. It’s Nya.
He blinks his eyes, looks at her. There’s the same sort of numb expression on her face.
“Are you okay.” Is the first thing she asks.
Lloyd blinks. “M’ sleeping.”
“You’ve been staring at the ceiling for the last 10 minutes.”
He jolts, frowns, but then the fight in him gone in milliseconds. He returns his gaze, avoidingly to the ceiling.
“You were watching me the whole time?” He finally says.
“Jay knocked over the photo of my parents in the hallway.” She says, irritatingly. “So I was fixing it. You know, the photo that’s right across from your room. Your door was open. Lousy for a ninja.”
Lloyd nods.
“We all noticed, when you left.” Nya pauses. “I hope you know that it’s okay to talk about it. Only if you need to,of course.”
“I know.” Lloyd pauses. He brushes the blanket, sitting up halfway. The lighting betrays him, illuminating how gaunt and pale he looks.
“Do you ever get the feeling that our powers— that they’re alive?” Lloyd finally says.
Nya nods, “What makes you say that?”
“I just- just— there was this moment— when it all happened, that I felt that they weren’t going to let go..” His face turns to a layer of disgust, a sorrowful expression even he can’t hide. “I wanted it so bad Nya— I feel so bad— I wanted it to be over.”
“Lloyd.” She says in a comforting voice, clasping his hand. “Hey—“
She sits next to him on the bed.
“No, I deserve to feel this way. It’s so selfish. But me-whatever in me it was kept holding on, and it hurt— it hurt so bad— I wanted to— I wanted it to be over.”
Nya watches Lloyd’s face, it’s clear he’s held onto the shame all night.
She doesn’t know what to say. Gently squeezing his hand for comfort. He doesn’t squeeze back like he always does.
“Is that how it felt for you?” He says after a few moments.
For what?” She says, legs still swaying off the side of his bed.”
“When you became the Ocean.”
“I..” She mumbles. “I wouldn’t know— I mean- I can’t remember now—“
Lloyd pauses, “There was this moment, when it was the worst pain I’ve ever felt. And then.. then I felt nothing at all.”
Nya opens her mouth to speak,
“And it’s.. haunting me. Cause’ what if that was it, Nya?”
“Don’t say that.”
“What’s the point? I know— it’s happened before.
“You can’t say that.”
“He killed me, didn’t he?” Lloyd searches her gaze to find her eyes. His own sparkling, the elemental energy visibly weaker.
The silence is deafening.
“Did you check?” He takes in the confirmation in her silence. “Did you check if I was.”
“The storm. It was too strong, we couldn’t get to you in time.” She sees the hurt in his expression. “Lloyd, you know how it was out there.”
Lloyd resigns to himself. He looks away. He still feels the chill, as though its frozen spike remains thawing in his chest. He breathes out tersely, wincing at the feeling. Not able to hide how cold he feels.
He knows it’s impossible for Nya not to notice how he’s shivering— when did that even start? He’s so far away from what his body and mind are doing that they feel like seperate things entirely.
Suddenly there’s a hand at his forehead. Nya winces at the chill emanating from him. he’s alive—alive— she thinks. How could he not be?
“You’re freezing, Lloyd.” Nya warns, unable to hide her panic. She brushes back of her hand lower to his cheek. “Do I- should I get Kai.”
“No.” Lloyd says a little too fast. At this point one worried sibling is enough. But he also knows that this chill isn’t the type where elemental fire would help. Nya doesn’t seem affixed on his response. Her doubtful expression weighs on him. “It’s — it wouldn’t help, trust me.”
He winces again when a flare of cold floods his body. He finally squeezes at Nya’s hand.
“It still hurts.” He bites his lip.
He lets go of the hand finally, his face fixed in consternation as he gazes upon his own hands.
“Have you used them?” Nya asks. She knows he’s thinking of his own elemental power.
“I’m honestly afraid to.” He says, with a short breath. “I mean, I can feel them, I just don’t know —
“You don’t need to.”
“It all hurts.” He says. “I just feel sick.”
“Do you think this is because of what happened?”
“I know it is.” He says, solemnly. “I shouldn’t complain—Maybe this is the confirmation, that I’m still here, not wherever I was.. I don’t want to go back, Nya.”
“You don’t need to.”
“He wanted it.” Lloyd says. “And then he took it. And all I did was run. And look where it got me. And he didn’t even know me. He didn’t even know my name. All he knew—
“Is that were the Conduit.”
“He acted as if I were close to them? Like they’d of listened.” He glares at the floor. “Maybe they’re just up there laughing, about how I’m a horrible excuse for a —“
“Stop it.” Nya snaps. “That’s not true.”
“If I were truly capable I wouldn’t have lost their power to him.” He admits. “I wouldn’t have died .”
“Listen, I know you really don’t want to hear you. But this is not ON you. It never would be, we could’ve never expected that fight. And you’re here now, the Forbidden five is dead.”
“I would give anything to have had a vision of what happened.” Lloyd says. “To have been warned, to have known what to expect.”
“I really don’t think you would’ve wanted visions, of that. You told me how they were tearing you up.”
“Nya, you don’t understand.”
“I don’t, you’re right.”
“The Conduit.” He quiets. “Maybe that’s all I am.”
“Lloyd.”
“That’s all I am. It’s always going to be this.. or this power. It’s always going to be all I ever will be.
“”-loyd.”
“And he didn’t just take it like the Overlord. He took everything. All I am. And.. I couldn’t do everything, I couldn’t stop that?”
“Hey—“
“I was only a thing. I wasn’t — and I wish, I would give everything to have not remembered it. But I do. And I can’t shake it. I don’t know Nya—“ he quiets. “Maybe if I didn’t wake up.”
Nya grabs his shoulders, an effort to calm him. Not until he crumples, his head nestled on her shoulders. He sniffs, but there isn’t a crying tear that she notices. He just tightens his hold in the hug.
“M-sorry, m-sorry.” He says. “Don’t tell don’t—“
“I won’t.”
“I’m sorry; I can’t stop— stop seeing—“
“It’s okay.” She says. “I know-it’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.”