Work Text:
In his sleep, it's all still real.
Too many hands explore Jay's battered body, squeezing at his black and blue bruises and delighting in his sobbing cries. He can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t feel the rhythm of electricity wired through his body.
“You're just gorgeous,” Nadakhan breathes hot in his ear. “Blue and black and white all over. My Jaybird.”
It doesn’t ever seem to stop. Even as the dream shifts to that brutal ring called Scrap N’ Tap, it’s like he can still feel it happening. Hard boots crush his fingers, kick at his ribs, slam him into the floorboards, but his skin still crawls with the sensation of his hands. As soon as his head hits the ground, he blacks out, waking up only as the cycle begins anew.
“I won’t do it!” he screams, even as hunger begs him to give in. Instead, desperation bleeding from every pore, he turns to pleading. “Please stop with the pain. Please. I promise I’ll listen! I’ll—”
A hand around his throat stops him from even begging, suffocating him while a crowd sneers and cheers for the one hurting him.
“It’s all your fault,” Nadakhan whispers to Jay, who lacks the strength even to stand. “You can stop this whenever, but you won’t.”
I won’t. I’ll keep you occupied as long as it takes, even though they’re never coming to save me. Jay breaks down into sobbing, unable to stay strong on the outside and inside both. His filthy gi hugs all his wounds, reminding him of everything he’s suffered, and he hopes, in the smallest part of him that’s still capable of hope, that Sensei Wu will make him a new one someday.
“You think you’re brave,” Nadakhan scorns him, “but you can’t save anyone.”
Jay blinks his blackened eye, and he thinks Nadakhan is right. He can’t even save himself. There’s no spark inside him anymore. As he opens his eyes again, he sees Nadakhan’s arms around Nya, his perfect Nya, dressing her up as he’d like. He wants to scream, to plead, but his throat is swollen shut. All he has is the venom left in his hands. Adrenaline coursing through him, he charges on sprained ankles, dragging bloody vengestone chains behind himself.
“So adorable,” Nadakhan cooed at him, grabbing Jay’s wrist and twisting it so that the venom shattered on the floor. Another anguished scream built up in Jay’s chest, but found no release. “You’re a lost cause, my little canary. I’ll own your mind forever.”
The tossing and turning was getting old. Ronin had been warned that Jay didn’t sleep easy these days, but after minutes on minutes of him screaming next door, there was no way he’d get to sleep without interfering. For once, he truly needed to rest—Nya’s life and future was on the line.
Stumbling out of bed, Ronin flicked on a light. All I want is a little peace and quiet in Ninjago, but every corner of this continent is full of noise. He left his door cracked open and briefly attempted to knock on Jay’s, hoping that alone would wake him. As his luck would always have it, though, Ronin got no response but more screaming and… crying?
Begrudgingly, Ronin cracked the door open, wincing as the sound got even louder. Alright, alright. You want up. Jay’s bed didn’t take long for Ronin to reach.
The ninja was desperately squeezing his own arms together, legs curled up, ugly tears dripping down his face as he screamed like the Great Devourer was diving straight for him. First Spinjitzu Master, he thought. What happened to you?
They had talked when Jay came to recruit him, but now that he was looking closer, Ronin noticed wounds that his hood had covered. There were dark markings all over his neck, scratches and blunt force splinters on his face.
Ronin shook Jay by the shoulders, wanting this to be over as soon as possible. They had a long day ahead of them tomorrow, he was sure, and this kind of sleep couldn’t be doing him any favors.
Though Jay did stir, he did so thrashing and scared. Before Ronin could pull back from the wild look in his eyes, Jay bit Ronin’s arm. Blood dribbled from the edges as he bit down like his life was on the line, and Ronin tried to shake him off in reaction, cursing as searing pain shot up and into his body.
“Hey!” Ronin gasped, backpedaling as Jay let go and pressed himself into the back corner of his bed. His breathing was all over the place, fast and short with coughing depth at uneven intervals. It was wheezy, his throat no doubt hoarse from all the shouting. He lifted a blanket over his head to hide.
“Nya’s friends with wild animals,” Ronin scoffed, examining his own injury. “Get a hold of yourself, Jay.”
Even feeling very out of his element, Ronin could tell something was terribly wrong here. He’d always thought the ninjas must have mental problems from all the world ending threats they faced—that they must have mental problems to keep doing it, too—but this was new and extreme.
Jay was stammering something now, and Ronin tried to make it out. “I won’t wish,” he insisted, “I won’t, so please, please, leave me be. Leave her be!”
No, this ain’t right. This reaction was above and beyond a little fear from risking their lives all the time. From the start, Ronin had been worried by the screaming, but nightmares can exaggerate fears. This reaction, now that Jay was awake? That told him that whatever happened on Nadakhan’s ship, it was worse than swabbing the deck.
Grabbing a towel off of Jay’s night stand, Ronin wrapped the cloth around his arm to keep the blood from getting everywhere. “It’s Ronin,” he clarified, wondering how much Jay could even make out with one eye and panic out of hell. “We’re working together, yeah? And we got stuck in the same shelter.”
The raspy breaths from Jay didn’t stop. The man just looked paler and paler. If he keeps going like this, he’ll knock himself out. Some part of him still wishing this wasn’t his problem, Ronin sighed, then added “Hey, breathe with me. It’s alright. In… then out. In… there you go. Out.”
Slowly, Jay eased his tight knuckled grip on the blanket, lowering it enough to look at Ronin plainly. His presence seemed confusing to him.
If this is how Jay is responding to Nadakhan… urgency refilled Ronin’s heart, his thoughts wandering to Nya, who was still held as his prisoner. He wanted to leave right then, to start making back up plan on back up plan, but he knew Nya wouldn’t forgive him for leaving Jay like this.
Hesitantly, still cautious of getting bit again, Ronin sat down on Jay’s bed. “Tell me where you think you are.”
A moment of hesitance passed before Jay answered, still searching Ronin for something. “The ship,” he concluded. “Nadakhan’s ship.”
He’s having flashbacks, Ronin realized. Now what awful things did they do to cause that? Worry growing by the second, he reminded Jay of his rescue.
Jay paused, then said “Right, I remember that. And then Lloyd, and even Cole…” his voice wavered, recalling his lost comrades. “And then Nya pushed me through the portal and—Nya!”
Jay launched himself at Ronin, wrapping one arm around his shoulder and another around his waist. He buried his gross, sniffling face into Ronin’s shirt. “Please,” he begged, “You have to save her. He wants to marry her, Ronin, and—”
That alone was enough to make his blood boil, violent thoughts blurring his vision.
“—and he never cared when I said no, so he could—if we don’t hurry—”
Ronin put his own hands around Jay’s back, slowly, hoping the gesture gave the man any comfort. With uncharacteristic gentleness, he assured Jay that they’d save her before that happened. “Don’t forget,” he promised, “She’s my friend too, and I don’t leave friends behind.”
The conviction in his voice settled Jay a bit. Fresh tears still slid down his cheeks, but they were quieter, softer on his spirit. Will he be able to lead like this? The quiet doubt stirred in Ronin’s chest. Jay wasn’t a kid anymore, but he was still awfully young—even adults have growing to do, and that was most true of the early years.
“I don’t want her to feel like I do,” Jay whimpers. “Never.”
Ronin ran out of words. He held Jay there for a minute, gently rubbing his back. Alright. Ronin to the rescue, no surprise there. I’ll give Cyrus a call.
Cyrus agreed to meet with Ronin, however begrudgingly. As Ronin knocked on the open doorframe, the man sighed. “Whatever you did, I’m not bailing you out of it.”
“Ain’t about me. It’s about the ninja. Nya, Zane—your kid, Pixel.” Ronin invited himself in, hovering at the edge of Cyrus’ desk. “I—that is to say, we—need your help.”
Mentioning his favorite androids earned Ronin a raised eyebrow, but he still had a long way to go if this plan would work. “I wish you would have contacted me sooner,” Cyrus lamented. “All this going on, but nobody thinks to keep me in the loop.”
“Sorry about that.” Really, Ronin didn’t disagree. Half of the times those ninjas ran headfirst into danger, they could have saved themselves a lot of trouble by asking Cyrus for a few contraptions first. “The enemy kept them busy. Believe me, I wasn’t involved for far too long.”
“Oh, alright. I’ll help. But!” Cyrus held his pointer finger up, stopping Ronin from getting his ideas on the ground before discussing terms and conditions. “You will return what I make to me as soon as this is over, yes?”
“Of course,” Ronin agrees, a friendly grin plastered over his face. As soon as this thing is in my hands, I am never giving it back.
Taking an empty blueprint from a desk vase, Cyrus gestured at Ronin, imploring him to get on with it. An erasable pen was pulled from his glasses. Ready wherever the idea strikes you, yeah? I knew we had something in common.
“I need something that can lock someone in space. Our enemy can teleport—shut that down, and my job gets easier.”
Cyrus hesitated for a moment, processing the tall order. “That’s nothing I can just—well, I suppose if I used—but then that makes a new engineering problem—but, wait, if I put a coolant system here—” marks flew across the paper and some kind of apparatus emerged, accompanied by mountains of shorthanded footnotes. Cyrus rolled back to give Ronin a better look at the paper, and he was delighted with what he saw.
“I do have one concern,” Cyrus added. “This looks a lot like a gun, and I just… can’t have my name on murder, you see. Please don’t use my inventions for unnecessary violence.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Ronin’s gruff voice held steady and sure, clutching on to the technicality Cyrus offered. This is more than necessary violence. “When will it be ready?”
“If I start tonight, make some calls, and hurry like the world depends on this—because I think it does—tomorrow afternoon.”
“Perfect.”
Ronin was immeasurably grateful that Sensei Wu hadn’t double checked that all his passengers stayed aboard. Two guns in his hands, he played things out one more time in his head before readying himself to engage.
“Take the shot, Flintlocke!” Jay yelled, dodging around the temple Nadakhan had decorated.
Flintlocke was far further away than Ronin, probably too far to hear Jay’s shout. If he doesn’t come through, I’ll just try to make do, Ronin promised himself, still unsettled that they were working together at all. He didn’t know how much Flintlocke knew, but if he was second in command… Ronin felt he had a right to be suspicious.
Watching the sniper’s ever shifting line of fire, Ronin recognized a problem emerge their plan. Shit. He’s gonna hurt her too if he fires.
Ronin had always been a lonely man, but he knew deep down he’d never survive burying Nya. First Spinjitzu Master, Jay would never sleep another night in his life. I’ve gotta do something. What do I have, what can I—ah.
Ronin rearranged his own rogue mission, some semblance of a plan forming. Waiting, crouched and hidden until Nadakhan wandered close, he shouted “I wish you’d give Nya her body back, banishing Delara forever!”
And in a short, involuntary snap, his will was done. It was a dangerous move—what if he’d slipped the wording? But still, Ronin was nothing if not overconfident in his wits. He grabbed Nya, pulling her behind his cover and dashing for distance, Nadakhan never far behind.
“I thought we were done wishing!” Jay’s knuckles were white around the Djinn Blade, scabs splitting open from the intensity.
Nya followed with Ronin, dazed but catching up. “Do you have a plan?” she asked, struggling to keep up in the dress so obviously made for another.
“I do,” he answered, eyes locked forwards as they dodged wishes, moving toward Jay. “I need you to trust me, okay Walker?” His voice carried over the crashing of the battle. “I have a promise to keep.”
Even as he was trembling, Jay stood firm. The tiniest projectile flew over his head, slamming into an unsuspecting Nadakhan. Flintlocke. He’s a nice shot; I’ll give him that.
No time left to waste, Ronin hoped he could get Jay to listen. “Wish your friends back to normal!”
Jay froze, still staring at Nya. The emotions on his face were so complex—fear, relief, worry, and love all bundled up into an intense sense of mental urgency. “What? No, I can’t use my wish until—”
“It’s fine! Shit, kid, what does your heart want?”
That seemed to get through to Jay, who was registering their limited time. “It’s just like Lloyd said,” he muttered, almost disbelieving. “Okay! I wish you’d undo wishing my friends still!”
Perplexed and woozy, Nadakhan couldn’t help but snap his fingers, and just like that it was done. Kai, Lloyd, Cole, everyone was emerging from their unscheduled nap. Perfect. A wicked grin spread across Ronin’s face, knowing he’d all but won. Taking advantage of Nadakhan’s surprise, he fired the first of his weapons—the spacial stabilizer Cyrus had crafted him.
It didn’t seem to have any effect at first. Nadakhan laughed in his face, a mean-spirited laugh that reassured Ronin this couldn’t happen fast enough. “Oh, birdie’s friends are as pitiful as he is,” the djinn jeered, looking down on the trio. Jay got behind Ronin, trying to put Nya further behind himself, though she held her ground right at his side. Snapping his fingers, Nadakhan tried to move, and yet…
Snap. Snap, snap, snap.
“What did you do,” Nadakhan hissed, his indignation and overconfidence soon to be the end of him. If only you weren’t so sure you’d get away with it, Ronin scoffed inside. Nah. End of the line.
“I wish the islands would float for five minutes after your death.”
Snap. “You wish in vain, little—"
“I wish that once my second wish expires, the islands of Djinjago would return, intact, to the places you took them from.” Confident in the tiger widow’s venom slowing Nadakhan’s thoughts, Ronin settled for closing the most obvious loopholes.
Snap. “You forgot to save one for me, pathetic man,” Nadakhan hissed, seething at Ronin’s disrespect.
Did I? Ronin lifted his last weapon towards Nadakhan—an ordinary firearm. “Cover your ears,” he ordered Nya and Jay, and each looked to the other, protecting the one they loved before themselves.
With a resounding bang, there was no more Nadakhan. Within five minutes, there was no more Djinjago—only Ninjago, the safe home these two lovebirds deserved.
And next time, he thought to himself, I hope they call me in faster.