Chapter Text
"Dammit..." the small boy said as he slumped against the wall of the alleyway. Trying to keep his cries of pain in, he gently pulled back his pant leg to examine his throbbing ankle. He let out a breath as he exposed it to the cold air. It was swollen beyond being able to articulate it, and it ached like a pile of bricks was dropped on top of it. The boy shivered, hearing the roaring of cars and shouts of angry city drivers passing by, going to do who knows what on a night such as this.
He wrapped his arms around his uninjured leg and pulled it to his chest, squeezing his knee tightly. He was hoping to get some kind of warmth from it, any at all. He couldn't keep going like this. Hell, he couldn't keep going even if he wanted to. Every time he tried to take a step his ankle would scream in protest and he would stumble over the snow-covered streets. It was hard enough trying to navigate the streets with an injured leg, so he took refuge in the first deserted place he could find, which happened to be next to an empty garbage bin tucked away in the crevices of the slums of Ninjago City. All he wanted to do was fall asleep and magically wake up in a soft, warm bed with a full plate of food at his bedside and not have to worry about the state of survival, but he knew that was too good to be true. It always was.
He was used to sleeping outside, he'd been doing it for three weeks now, but the pain was keeping him awake despite his drowsy body and half-lidded eyes. All his adrenaline had completely run out by now, and the pain was almost becoming unbearable. Not only that, but his small, petite frame was shaking violently under his black hoodie and his limbs were so frozen he could hardly move them. This was definitely one of the more brutal winters in Ninjago, and it's unfortunate timing that he decided to run away right when it was kicking off. Not that he had much of a choice, though.
I'm going to die here, aren't I? He thought grimly as he coughed, the frigid air attacking his lungs and triggering a string of wheezing hacks. Once he calmed down enough to breathe somewhat properly, a noise caught his attention. He froze. Listening closely. Ignoring the howling of the wind and loud city life around him, he almost thought he was just hearing things before the sound came again. No, he wasn’t just hearing things.
For a brief moment he thought it was a person, and fear prickled at his skin and climbed up his throat, but he dismissed the thought when he could distinctly make out the weak crying of an animal at the back of the alley.
At first, he ignored it. Not only was he frozen in place, but he couldn't get over there even if he wanted to due to his leg. As the crying continued, however, he couldn't help but feel a pull towards it. Standing was out of the question, so instead the boy used his hands to scoot himself closer. On the other side of the garbage was a cluster of crushed boxes, one of which was separated from them and still fully intact. Lloyd shifted so he could be on his knees, but the action caused a bit of pressure to be on his ankle and his arms gave out under him. He choked on a gasp. His ankle was on fire and prickling like a hot knife was stroking the skin. Still, he persisted as the mewls sounded from the box.
After the wave of sharp—almost unbearable—pain passed, he lifted himself up as much as he could and peered into the box to see a small kitten lying inside of it. It had gray, spotted tabby fur that was matted and frozen from snow. Its tiny body was shaking and its cries sounded weak and desperate. It was so young, its eyes weren't even open yet. The boy looked around for any possible other family members, but the alley remained deserted. He turned back to the kitten in pity.
"They abandoned you too, huh?" His voice came out tiny and nearly gave out due to his intense shivering. Without a second thought, he reached for the minuscule ball of fur and scooted himself towards the wall again. Settling himself down with his leg outstretched, he stuffed the kitten into the collar of his hoodie and rapidly tried to warm it by hugging it tightly and rubbing it through the fabric. He couldn't feel his hands, feet, or legs.
"Don't worry," he said to the kit. "I won't leave you."
He sat there, shivering in place as he rocked back and fourth. He knew he may not survive the night, and he was content with that. The idea of death never scared him. If anything, he found the idea peaceful. Perhaps the pain will go away when he's in the afterlife? Maybe he would become a ghost and walk the earth a little longer. He'd be fine with that. He could haunt his classmates. That would be fun. Maybe he could even be able to fly. That would be nice. Either way, he would finally be free from the shackles that held him down, that kept him from feeling freedom, from feeling happiness.
Slowly, the boy closed his eyes. He had a good run. Maybe not the best life, but it was adequate. At least he had the comfort of someone else with him in his final moments. He always thought he'd die alone. Had this kitten thought the same? He didn't know, but its not like it mattered anyway. He wasn't alone, and that's as all he could ask for.
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Unbeknownst to the boy, the shadow of a tall figure loomed over him. A man walked up to the small, frozen boy and placed two fingers on his neck, feeling. After a few quiet seconds, the person felt a faint heartbeat on the pads of his fingers, and he smiled.
"Master Chen is going to want to meet you, young Garmadon."