This fic is written to The Glitch Mob's "Love Death Immortality" which is where its title comes from. It's both an excellent album and a good tone setter for everything~

Rated for implied/referenced child abuse, fairly graphic descriptions of injury and death, suicidal themes, and coarse language! Please consider this warning if you're sensitive to those topics. I promise it's a happy ending though!

Morro spits curses under his breath as he stuffs clothes, books, and an open box of cigarettes into his backpack. If the stupid, old bastard wants him gone so damn bad, then fine, he won't come back this time!

He stumbles over his boots lying on the floor before violently shoving them on. Grabbing his phone off the bed, he stomps out of his now old room before stopping short, hand on the doorknob, narrowed eyes trained on the tattered leather cloak hanging up by the door. He used to go everywhere in it, but he hasn't worn it since he was fifteen.

What the hell, he might actually need it now. Snagging it, rolling it under his arm, he heads for the front door.

A glass bottle shatters against the inside after he slams it behind himself. He doesn't hear what his mother screams at his father for doing that because he's already popped in his earbuds, music on full blast.

He treads several blocks down the road, dodging anyone who steps into his periphery. It's like eleven thirty at night, and most of the streetlamps haven't worked in years; however, there's plenty of people who put up their paper lanterns and spooky decorations for Day of the Departed, giving him at least some light. He knows he should be careful, but honestly? He doesn't care if someone wants to mug him while he's not paying attention to his surroundings. In fact, they can just god damn try him tonight. He's gonna have to get real comfortable with life out here anyway.

But really, he doesn't want to sleep on the streets yet.

He sits on the sidewalk and texts his mom's sister if he can stay over. While he waits, he clasps his cloak on.

Aunt Koko responds a few minutes later with a chipper:

- Of course, honey! I'm working super late tonight, but Lloyd should be there. We just restocked the snacks if you're hungry

Her message ends with a green dragon emoji, her favorite.

Slinging his backpack onto his shoulder, he sends a thumbs-up then makes his way to the apartment building. In the outer hallway, he tries the door, but it's locked. He knocks, not hard enough to be pounding on it, but he's making his annoyance known. Ugh, he probably should have let Lloyd know he was on his way.

Groaning, he slides his phone open. Hey, on the bright side, he'll get to lock it and keep his privacy now. The vocalist in his ear crescendos as the damn thing blinks out on him, dead.

That's perfect! He's gotta hunt for his spare key.

Too many minutes later for his frazzled nerves, he finds it deep in his backpack's inside pocket. If Lloyd's sleeping, Morro is gonna kick his stupid ass.

He only half-registers the two pairs of house sandals at his feet.

Inside, all the lights are off. "Lloyd?" he calls, turning on the lamp by the couch. Dropping his backpack, he beelines it for Lloyd's room, resisting the urge to punch the door open. "I swear to god," he starts as he practically barrels in and throws aside the bed's 'cozy curtain' as his cousin called it, in all seriousness, but he's surprised to see it empty. Then he remembers those were sandals he saw, not Lloyd's sneakers. Mkay. So he's not home.

Whatever. Morro wants to be alone right now anyway.

He needs to let Aunt Koko know that he's here so she won't worry, though. Intending to get his charger from his backpack, he turns around, a creeping, 'Did you actually see it when you were digging for the key?' realization dawning on him. He hurries to the bag, throws out all the clothes and books, empties every pocket, moves on to his jacket and jeans pockets. It's just not on him.

He left.

His charger.

At home.

His former home.

He curses again. There has to be one here. Out of respect, he avoids his aunt's room, but his cousin's is free game. There's nothing on the desk or in the drawers, so he looks under the bed. Still no cords, but his eye catches something shiny, no, a few somethings. What, are those shuriken? He picks one up. It's heavier than he thinks a toy would be, but it's made of metal, so that figures. He carefully runs a finger over one of the blade edges. Yep, definitely sharp.

...Mkay.

He puts it back how he found it and continues to the living room for his search. The one cord he finds has a plug too big for his phone. Stupid Nindroid-using basic-ass-family—

Fed up and just needing sound, he turns on the TV. It's already set on the news, with the butt-chinned anchor even gargling, "Breaking news!" like it's his job or something. Ugh. He's about to click away when an image of the Secret Ninja Force running around in fire and rubble pops up.

"The Green Ninja has been injured! This was just taken at the site of a minor explosion in east Ninjago's industrial zone. Sources are so far unable to confirm if it was the work of Garmadon, but currently, the damage is being ruled an accident..."

Of course, unlike everyone else in this city, Morro doesn't really care that much about the color-coded cosplay brigade. Everything he knows about the island's titular celebs was learned against his will, but he does have to kind of respect them considering normal celebrities get paid just to smile at a camera. At least somebody's keeping his freak — but total aesthetical genius — uncle in check.

And it always seems like the green one puts himself on the front lines of that fight. Getting hurt was only a matter of time. Fuzzy video shows him being carried away from the fire by the red ninja and handed off to the white one reaching for him from the Ice Mech's cockpit, the news anchor droning on.

Morro hopes he's okay.

Wait.

Wait, wait, wait a minute here.

If Aunt Koko thinks Lloyd's home, and he's not, then that means he snuck out. Morro chuckles out loud. That goodie-two-shoes-pretending-ass idiot is gonna be so busted!

His own troubles forgotten because this is just too good, he tosses the remote aside, grabs his notebook from his shit-pile before kicking it all under the couch, and sits in the dining room corner that's hidden from the front door's view to wait. He's got enough light from the window to see what he's writing, but he makes sure to keep himself in the shadow. He's totally gonna catch Lloyd in the act.

Some dude the news must be interviewing rants, "I wasn't even supposed to be on graveyard shift. I was at home with my wife, then next thing I know, I'm outside the office, and it's on fire, man! And I see the Green Ninja's in there, so I'm like, am I tripping on something or what? All I know is the guy must've saved me! I mean, he's a real hero. This city could use a lot more of them."

Lloyd's been a ninja now for like, three, four, six...um, a lot longer than anyone in this city has, but really, it hasn't been that long, so when he calls himself 'green,' he's not just thinking about his call sign or the gi he wears. And, uh, he's probably inhaled too much smoke. What the heck are these masks even good for?

"C'mon, Green! Popsicle says this thing's gonna blow!" Now, Kai's being smart, yelling code-names from several feet away like that. They're not in their mechs, and there's like a hundred news choppers circling in the air, so they can't risk any real names getting picked up and broadcasted all over the place. Oh yeah, he's running far out of what's probably the blast radius, too.

Ten points to Fire Boy. 'Fiya Bwaa.' Red torna—

Whoo, that sure is a lot of smoke. Coughing, his throat protests with a shot of agony as he gives a thumbs-up to his retreating squadmate, scrubbing soot out of his eyes.

Okay, the problem with following his best friend out of the danger zone is— It's— it's simple, alright? Lloyd's got one rule, one code of conduct, one darn line of a hopeless fighter's ideal that he's going to make sure carries weight in his heart, his mind, and his fists. Every day he puts on that gi, he repeats it to himself.

No one dies on his watch.

Simple. So, of course he charges into the burning building. He's gotta make sure nobody's left inside.

He doesn't find anyone, not even the firefighters who must have pulled out ages ago. That's probably a really bad sign for him. Satisfied that he gave it his absolute best, he turns tail and—

"H-help! Please!"

See? He was right to go back.

The worker's trapped in a small office that has its door blocked by a patch of fire. A wide window separates him from Lloyd, and he's banging on it with some tool in his hand, but clearly it won't break.

"Use the chair," Lloyd yells. "Hurry, put the legs on it!"

The man complies, pressing the chair at the desk behind him against the window, creating hopefully enough localized tension. Keeping balance, Lloyd kicks the square of glass inside the four points until it finally shatters. The man uses the chair and tool to break it the rest of the way, opening space for him to climb out.

He rambles, "Thank you, ninja. Thank you so much," as Lloyd drags him up and towards the exit.

"No time, just move!"

The fire's burned away a lot of the wooden support structure and drops a metal beam in their path. He's got time to shove the man forward out of the building but has to roll back from the beam's scorching bite. It catches his left arm pretty good. He slaps the fire out and tries to ignore the pain, shouting, "Go, I'll find another way!" at the guy who looks like he's getting ready to try the hero thing.

Lloyd darts out of view to keep that from happening, searching anywhere for an escape route.

He spots another window, kindly cracked from the heat, exposing a firetruck's flashing lights. He dashes to it and hurtles himself through with his arms up to protect his face from the glass. Funny enough, he's not entirely sure if the window's at ground level or if he's gonna fall down twenty feet, but the asphalt slams into him after just a second, so he counts his idiot blessings.

"Green!" Kai screams again from some distance.

Lloyd hacks up the smoke that chokes the air he's trying to regain from the hard landing, but he pays more attention to just running the frick away, chasing Kai's voice.

He got out. It's all good.

...

Famous last words?

He's thrown back to the ground when a searing heat and deafening noise surge through him, quaking the earth for a mile in every direction.

He pushes up on his hands, making it to his feet next. His heart's pounding harder than a mother, and he's pretty sure his lungs forgot how to work, but nice, he's still good. Kai's running back to him, waving his arms like crazy, and everything's gonna be fine. Nobody's dying out here tonight.

Something like a whistle, a singing stream of wind, sounds behind him as he wavers, unsteady.

"Run, duck, move, do something! Don't turn around!" Uncle Wu's weirdly shrill voice screeches in his head. But he's green, and he whips around instead. He barely has a chance to see the heavy bit of flying concrete before it cracks on his skull.

His head's held firm against a chilly surface. Kinda hurts a little. His mask isn't making breathing easy either. He coughs twice, something dripping pain into his left eye. He tries to blink it out and notices Zane looking down at him, wide-eyed.

Okay, they're in the Ice Mech somehow. Wasn't he just helping someone? Oh, Popsicle's driving with one hand. That's not safe in the slightest considering the thing uses steering levers, not a wheel. It's making Lloyd sick watching the weird blur between the levers, so he turns his head back over.

Zane might also be talking, but a haze over Lloyd's senses blocks out all noise except for the raging hum of the engine and a dull ring piercing his brain.

He grips the white gi, wishing he was home.

Somebody's dabbing a warm cloth on his forehead. It's probably Uncle Wu because it's his voice that makes it through the haze. "That's it, Lloyd. Wake up now. You will be just fine."

See? Totes right.