Befriending the Criminal

I Think I Need a Little Change

The boy's shoulder twitched and he curled his last five, fleshy, fingers, frowning. Sobs came forth, each one choking out of him. "I want..." Coles lips quivered, "I want to go home... home..." Cole said softly, a tightness in his voice, just before one of the men placed an oxygen mask over him.

"I know, I know." Garmadon grabbed Cole's hand and squeezed it tight in a comforting gesture. A part of him was thankful that Lloyd was sitting at home, just him, Uncle Wu, and Koko. "You're going to be okay, Cole. It's all going to be okay." A smile crept up his face when Cole squeezed back. His tensed muscles eased when he noticed Cole's breathing becoming more controlled.

"You were so brave, Cole. You were such a hero, you hear?"

***

In The Present

The young ginger was standing at the other end of the table, his wrist in front of his chest as he scrolled through his techy watch. He was waiting for Cole to finish his breakfast, as the other had woken up later than he had.

Unlike the other days before, Cole dressed in something just slightly different. He still wore the typical bomber jacket with the same tear over his right arm and the same black cargo pants. However, this time, his hair was a little more lazy, hanging down in front of his face like the longest bangs Jay had ever witnessed, and his shirt, a navy blue with a single white stripe.

Looking up, Jay eyed the robot arm, noticing how faint the lights were. Quietly, he flicked his wrist to itch the skin and pulled up Cole's record, turning around so that Cole wouldn't be able to see through the hologram.

FILE: Cole Brookstone.

Status: Alive.

Age: 18.

Sex: Male.

Date of Birth: [Month. Day. Year] Dec. 15. 18.

Parents: Deceased. Died on October 31st. Cause unknown.

Run-away from family at the age of 12.

Supposedly joined the Smith sibling's criminal group at the age of 17.

Sent to prison on March 28th for 8 months.

Released on the 28th of November into custody of Jay Walker and Lloyd Garmadon.

Jay winced at the mention of his name. He then searched for Cole's hospital records.

Lost his right arm at the age of 12 on December 15th in an attack.

Jay drew in a breath. Six years? He's had that arm for six years? Had it been on the news? Had he missed it? He - he remembered, he was watching. He saw everything, the trucks, the cars, the ambulances... he saw Cole, twelve year old, Cole, lying on a stretcher as they heaved him into the back of the vehicle.

That was Cole?

Arm replaced by bionic limb.

Suddenly, a video started to play all on its own -

"This bionic arm is a ne-"

Jay jumped, his back straightened as he struggled to turn it off. He whirled around to Cole's attention and stuffed his arm down low, covering the watch with his other hand.

"What was that?" Cole asked him, flicking his spoon in Jay's direction.

"N-News stuff..." Jay blurted, which wasn't entirely a lie. He bit the inside of his cheek, tapping his foot as he stared at Cole bluntly. "Heeeey," he sing-songed, sliding into a seat next to Cole. "Could I ask you something? Just a teeny tiny question? I know you hated it when I asked questions, especially about your arm, buuuuut..."