I own nothing but the story. At time of writing, I hadn't seen the new episodes, so if there are any contradictions (there shouldn't be), then that's how the story is just going to be. My stories work best if canon is ignored, anyway.

It's hard to describe the nature of Jay's relationship with Cole. From friends to enemies to friends again, theirs is one mixed with petty arguments, heartfelt insults, and an occasional deep conversation that only cements their roles as each other's best friend. Jay cannot deny that as strong as he knows the friendship is, he's no clue of the exact degree of its fortitude. Perhaps there isn't a limit, but they've been torn apart once.

Really, it's anyone's guess, because no one knows.

Jay certainly didn't.

Not until a sunny afternoon in early spring.

He chalks the day up as one of the worst in his life, but it doesn't start out that way. In fact, most of the day was well. Wu's tea shop is finally complete, the ninja are relatively secure and learning to be happy in the new normal they've created for themselves, and they finally have time to relax before opening day the following morning.

Then a call comes, and the afternoon finds Cole and Jay staring at each other, alone in a falling building.

Not far from the shop is an urban district, the only one in miles upon miles of farms and forest. Zane's sacrifice and Garmadon's have made the ninja well-known faces in this area, and they've been called over to handle mishaps more than they cared for. Most of these are little more than petty thievery, and the ninja have taken care to explain that they simply don't have the time to deal with every minor crisis that pops up, especially when their youngest member is dealing with the loss of his father.

The calls are less frequent, but they still come.

The one today doesn't come until late, so the morning starts off like any other, better, even.

There's a lot they could do to relax; the sun is high and the wind wobbles tree trunks until they sing.

Though most of the ninja decide to hang around the tea shop, Cole takes the van out for some joyriding. Jay joins him, because it hasn't been long since they made up their friendship, and though they're on good terms, he wants to make up for lost time, wants to take their friendship back to what it was before they fought. The task is serious, but Jay quickly finds himself laughing as they attempt to sing along to bad pop music, turned up loud and obnoxious.

Cole rolls the windows down as they ride through hills and farms; Jay has his feet propped and crossed on the dash. They're cheerful, enjoying each other's company like the months of fighting haven't done a thing, like the turmoil of the past year hasn't strained relationships for everyone in their little family.

For now, they're happy. Springtime is here.

"You think the shop will be successful?" Cole is practically yelling to be heard over the Weekend Whip as it blasts.

Jay's in the middle of fingering an air guitar when the question is posed, and he doesn't stop as he replies, nonchalant, "After all that work, it'd be insulting for it to fail."

Cole gives a little laugh and lets a silence pass before saying, "You don't think it's disrespectful to Garmadon, do you?"

The unexpected seriousness of the question causes him to halt, fingers curling into his palms. "Er—" he thinks, "I don't—I don't know. Misako and Lloyd are okay with it, so…"

Cole nods, eyes on the road before them, "Yeah…" he sighs, "I'm glad that Lloyd is doing better, at least."

The conversation is tilting into a spot that doesn't match the setting. The sun is high, the wind blowing, the conversation dangerously dreary.

"He's a trooper," says Jay, words more clipped than he intends. They both know that Lloyd handles trauma like he handles emotions: hiding everything in a dark corner of his mind and hoping the pain goes away on its own. It's something he's working on—that they're all working on together—but it's an issue, nonetheless.

The rest of the team isn't much better, really.

"How're you holding up?" Jay asks after the break in conversation stretches too long.

"We weren't that close."

"Not just that," Jay huffs, "Everything else, y'know?"

Cole shrugs, "I'm not the one that needs worrying over, really."

What's the point in asking? Jay thinks, letting it slide regardless.

"I'm glad that Zane is back."

"Definitely. Almost feels normal."

Yes, almost.

The conversation lasts no more than a minute, but it's effective in killing the mood they worked so hard to create. It is the spot they're in right now, though. Jay notices it, distantly. They're on good terms, but they don't interact as easily as they once did. Conversation stilts rather than flows, and it frustrates him.

Jay looks out the window, watching broom straw threaten to rip free from their roots. The music quiets with the two of them.

At least they're talking again.

"You up for some lunch?" Cole asks after a while.

A beat.

"You really have to ask?"

Cole laughs, and Jay looks back, smile making a slow return. They flow again, for just a moment, and Cole turns into the town that bothered them so. Maybe there's a distant shop where there won't be many people waiting to ogle them.

"What are you in the mood for?" says Cole, "I could go for a pizza."

"So long as it's real pizza," Jay eyes the buildings surrounding the street, "like the kind they have at the arcade."

The sentence earns him a snort, and he grins.

They don't notice or choose not to see the column of black smoke, then small enough to ignore, seven streets over from where they end up; a pizzeria on a corner. Later, Jay wonders how they could've missed such a sight, and he wonders how much a difference would've been made had they noticed, but for now, they're just out to get lunch, two friends.

The pizzeria sits between a bank and the ugliest thrift shop Jay thinks he's ever seen, which means that he and Cole definitely need to go inside it once they finish eating. Outdoor seating seems ideal at the time of arrival, but thirty minutes later they've lost most of their napkins and the sun's heat can't quite reach them through what's left of winter's chill. All in all, through their selective vision, the afternoon is perfect.

The sun is high, and they're together, two friends.

Then Cole decides to ruin the mood for a second time. "Any luck patching things up with Nya?"

He's lucky Jay didn't choke. Instead, he frowns at his slice of pizza. "We're friends," he states, "but it's up in the air about whether we'll...ever get back together."

Cole doesn't offer another "I'm sorry," but it's understood. "I've been talking to her, too. Mostly just apologizing for my behavior."

"You and me both."

Another silence, and, though companionable, it's uncomfortable. Jay hates this spot they're in, almost as much as he hates what they were during the fight. This is almost worse, even. At least back then he could use his anger to inhibit how much he missed the ease of their friendship. Now it sticks out like a sore thumb.

"So…" Jay searches for conversation and grasps at a sentence, "What do you plan on doing in your spare time now that the fighting is done?"

Cole glances away and shrugs, "I dunno. I feel like the fighting will never be done; you know what I mean?"

A depressing take, but, "Yeah."

"I've been drawing a lot more, though."

"That so?"

"Just sketches and things. Nothing serious."

"Lovely," says Jay, and it is, "I've been playing video games, myself."

Another snort. "I know. Between you and Lloyd—"

"I could find another hobby," Jay smiles, "I haven't worked on any of my projects in a while."

In truth, he hasn't a desire to do much. Whatever sparked his ideas for invention or innovation has been doused for a while, now. The longer he stares at his meal, the more he thinks that maybe Lloyd isn't the only one not doing so well.

"I'd like to see you invent again," says Cole.

The statement and smile that accompanies it are quiet on this busy street, and it warms Jay from the inside out.

Then Cole's eyes slide to the right, turn distant, and his face falls.

"Jay," he says.

"Ninja!" comes a cry.

That's their call. The column of black smoke is large, now—Jay wonders how they could have missed it—and a lone policeman stands at the end of the street.

Seven streets over, a building burns from the bottom up, apparently the result of a robbery gone wrong, but no one is sure. They know that there was an explosion, a bomb filled with kerosene, and a building full of unsuspecting office workers. Those people sit panicking at the top, eight, nine stories up, and the building shakes.

They ask the ninja to get everyone out, to save those help can't reach. Never mind that they're unprepared for a problem they happened upon, never mind that the ninja work best as a team, never mind that they're forced to don protection from the citizens gathered around, rather than their more reliable gi. Really—Jay decides later, after the day becomes what it does—they should've left the local law enforcement to deal with it themselves, but like vultures to the scent of the dead, ninja follow the sounds of screams.

Until that point the day had been well, and though this makes it considerably worse, it isn't what turns the day into one of the worst in Jay's life.

That comes later, inside.

The building is not ideal. From the rooftop of the edifice next door, they can see the poor foundation, the fire escape that fell away. If it burns much longer, it will collapse entirely.

And it does, but not yet.

There are people inside, and, like the fools they are, Cole and Jay go in.

"What's the plan?" Jay shouts as they're swarmed by worried civilians.

It's dark in here, but not yet burning. Jay wonders if they'll have to start dropping citizens out of windows, then thinks better of it.

"We'll just get 'em to the building over," says Cole, next shouting to those cowering around them, "I want everyone to stay calm while we figure this out. I promise you're going to be okay—"

Jay nods at this, wanting to believe his friend. He knows Cole doesn't break promises.

"My friend and I are going to move you all to the neighboring roof," he says, pointing, "Once there, you guys need to find a quick and safe way to get to the ground. Can you do that?"

Wide-eyed faces nod along, high-strung with terror. Jay looks around as they get to work. Cole tries building a bridge of sorts out of a hole in the wall and a wooden beam, but they end up having to carry people and jump. The building is shaking.

They're on one story of many they must check, and everyone wants to get off at once. It's a daunting task, and Cole and Jay are vastly under-prepared.

No, the fighting will never be done.

The day isn't the worst yet. Jay will admit that he's been in stickier situations than this, though there's not a lack of fear as he goes about his task. He can barely carry people in normal situations, and he certainly can't carry anyone and jump back and forth from one building to the next.

So, that task is given to Cole, and Cole alone. Jay remains inside and searches through increasingly dangerous stories, searching for anyone who might still be around, hiding. Though scared, he's glad he doesn't have to wait and watch with the rest of the civilians; he'd hate it if Cole happened to fall, and he was there to watch it.

But Cole wouldn't fall, and doesn't.

Cole made a promise, and Cole keeps his promises.

Jay can't tell how long they've been at this. He has a watch, hidden under the sleeve of a large coat meant to protect him from fire's damage. Fortunately, he's no need for it yet, but the rooms are getting darker, and the lower he goes, the hotter it gets.

The town is attempting to put the fire out, but the building shakes.

After too long, Jay finds himself in an empty story, looking around. He can't go down any further, and he's the last person standing. He wonders—hopes—prays that everyone is out, that Cole got them to safety, but he doesn't know.

Didn't know.

He should've. Cole keeps his promises. The civilians ended up okay.

Moments later, he hears a shout.

"Jay!"

His name. Cole is calling; the building shakes.

"Cole!" he cries.

"Jay!"

"Cole!"

Jay has to climb his way back up a floor, two more, and finds Cole running towards him.

"What are you doing?" he shouts.

"Looking for you," Cole grabs at his hand, points towards a window, "We have to go!"

"You shouldn't have come downstairs!"

The world beneath their feet jerks as Jay says it, and that's all he has time to say. Cole's eyes go wide, the world stops turning, and they might as well have stopped breathing for the air they graced the moment.

As the two of them share a look, the building collapses. There's no time to run, hardly time for thought. For the briefest second, Jay feels weightless, in mind as well as body as he processes the sheer irony of the situation.

He thinks that Cole feels the same way, and he regrets that they'd ever fought at all. Then they wouldn't have lost those months. At the very least, and the least is all he can seem to hope for these days, he's thankful that they're going to fall together as friends.

The sun is high, the wind blowing, and they stand, two friends. For that, Jay is thankful.

Before he can accept their fate, though, Cole's eyes change again, and the last thing Jay remembers before the fall stops and they slam against something hard is Cole's arm curling around him and pulling him close, shielding him from whatever fell above.

Fair warning, this fic is incredibly self indulgent. Thank you for taking the time to read it. Have a great day!