• Requested by SoulShardz •
(Author's Note: Text written in italics means it's a narration of a dream. Well, for me it is.)
Third Person POV
Garmadon groaned as he sat upright. The room was dark, barely lit by small candles that were scattered around. He stood up, his eyes darting around the room.
"Where is he?" He whispered to himself, searching the room.
A flash of purple and gold, followed by a deafening screech from the entity, exploded into the room. Falling back, Garmadon shielded his face.
"Garmadon!" The sickeningly familiar voice bellowed as his beady eyes stared at him.
"Leave me! My son and his friends destroyed you weeks ago!" Garmadon cried as he pressed his back against the wall.
"But whose fault was it that made me come back in the first place?"
Garmadon felt a lump form in his throat as memories flooded back into his mind. All of the pain, all of the suffering, all of the guilt swept over his body. He hunched over on the ground, covering his ears.
"No. No, you were the one that deceived me. My son forgives me for what I've done."
"But.... Has he, really?" The Overlord hissed as he lunged forward, landing a blow on his back.
Garmadon fell back, grabbing the closest thing to a weapon. When he looked back up at his enemy, the face he was met with was that of his beloved son.
"You.... you leave my son out of this!" Garmadon spat, standing up to attack.
He swung his weapon at him, the Overlloyd dodged, landing another blow on him. Garmadon winced at the pain, swinging the weapon once more, finally landing a blow on him. He grinned as he saw him fall back, clutching the sound in pain.
"Father! No! Please, wake up! It's me! It's me!" The Overlloyd cried, his voice cracking to sound almost like Lloyd.
"You're lying! Leave him out of this!" Garmadon swung the weapon again. This time, it left a bloody cut along his forehead.
"Father! Please wake up!"
The voice made Garmadon freeze, dropping the weapon. The room was different than what he was just in. He looked up at what was supposed to be the Overlloyd, just for it to be Lloyd, with two cuts on his face. Garmadon out a hand over his mouth, glancing down to the floor, where a sword with droplets of blood dashed along the edge of it lay. Looking back up at Lloyd, he stood up.
"Oh my... Oh my.." He stammered as he backed against the door.
"Dad. It... It's okay! Really, just calm down!"
"No, it's not okay! I hurt you! I could've.... I could've.....!"
"It's just a scratch! I-I'm fine!"
Garmadon ran out the room, Lloyd followed, trying to get him to stop. The two made it to the railing of the Bounty before Lloyd could stop him.
"Please, Father! Wait!" Lloyd cried as he gripped his gi.
Garmadon turned to face him. The blood wasn't the only thing running down his son's round cheeks.
"Please. I'm fine. It's not your fault. Just don't go," Lloyd sobbed.
Bringing a wrinkled hand up to cup his cheek, Garmadon whispered, "I'm so sorry."
Lloyd choked another sob as he held his hand against his father's.
"I forgive you. I did from the start."
They stood quiet for a bit, until Garmadon felt the warm blood drip onto his hand.
"That needs some fixing, too," He muttered as he lightly rubbed a thumb over one of the cuts. Lloyd flinched slightly, but nodded.
"Come. It's late," Garmadon said as he led him inside.
Word Count: 604 Words. (Aah, so much angst. Loved it! Thanks for requesting!)