Author: LightningsShadow118 PM
What if Jack and Chase swapped places? CY/JSRated: Fiction T - English - Hurt/Comfort/Friendship - Chase & Jack - Chapters: 3 - Words: 7,018 - Reviews: 11 - Favs: 25 - Follows: 15 - Published: 10-19-09 - id: 5454202
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Could we be more?
I have been alone,
Unable to trust,
Unable to love,
Only to doubt;
I have longed to know
Longed to hold
A broken soul
And put it back together.
... be more?
... so tired......
..... can't move......
... someone's carrying me......
..... where am I going......
... who's holding me......
............... a bed.........
........... not my bed........
............. not my bed......
.................not my bed...
............. that's bad.........
......... where am I........
............. not my bed......
........ better than my bed......
............. why am I here.......
..... where's my family......
...... are they okay........
...................................... where's Taijitu..........
Very slowly, very groggily, Chase hazed back into consciousness.
He grunted, shifted so he could rub his eyes and blinked carefully. The light coming through the windows made him wince, but he adjusted quickly—
Wait... his room didn't have windows.
Chase forced his eyes to adjust faster and soon discovered that apparently neither did this room. There were fluorescent lights bent into rectangular swerves on each side of the bed with blinds draped over them, meant to resemble windows.
He then remembered what happened. Still quite a bit drowsy from remnants of the inhalant, Chase examined the foreign room.
It wasn't too big, but it was very decorative. The bed he sat in was slightly bigger than a double, its chartreuse, coral, and goldenrod colors swirled on the comforter. The headboard was a deep wooden goldenrod, with extravagant Chinese dragons carved in. The walls were olive with utterly exquisite paintings hanging.
It was magnificent... and freaky.
Chase pushed the covers off himself and cautiously slid from the bed. He wobbled slightly, remnants of the inhalant no doubt, but he managed. He then trod to the door and opened it — he was surprised that it was unlocked. The youth needed to find the man who brought him here.
When he left the room, he found himself in a dark, narrow, maroon hallway with several doors on each side. Chase didn't dare test any of them, far too iffy about what might be waiting on the other side.
He reached the end of the hallway and turned the corner where the left wall opened into a small, bright kitchen. In front of the stove, cooking what looked like french toast, was the thief.
Chase inhaled sharply. He hadn't meant to.
The man peered over his shoulder, met Chase's cold stare, and smiled despite it.
"Ah! Morning, kid!" he announced and returned his attention to the meal. "Perfect timing, too; I was just about to send a robot to wake you."
It was a cold, firm, and constrained order.
"Relax; your snake's perfectly fine. I promise," he assured.
"Where is she?"
Spicer turned off the stove and slid the french toast onto a plate. Then, he turned to give Chase his undivided attention.
"Listen, kid. I know you're pissed at me for doing what I did; I understand that. However, believe me when I say your snake is in good company, here. I don't plan on selling her or shipping her off anywhere, if that's what you're worried about. I solemnly swear, I'm not going to hurt her in any way, shape, or form."
"You damn well better not!" Chase burst, nearly at his breaking point. "Taijitu's my family and if you even think about hurting her, I'll—"
"You'll do nothing." Jack cut him off with an icy glare that sent goose-chills down Chase's spine. He fell silent.
Jack continued. "Perhaps it's escaped your notice, but you're on my turf, now. I make the rules; I call the shots. I stole your snake, and I'm not sorry about it. I don't want to hurt her and I don't plan to, but if you can't show some decency and quit while your ahead, then I will hurt her — and you'll get to watch."
Chase balked. His fleeting instincts raged and wanted to jump at him again for threatening something like that, but he'd learned from what happened last time.
Jack examined the teen closely, seeing the flicker of fury subside under his self-control, and nodded his thanks.
His tone softened again. The tech genius seated himself at the round table with his plate and a steaming coffee mug. He motioned to the chair across from him.
Jack eyed the youth as he sipped his decaf, and raised an eyebrow.
Young suddenly came to the realization that this thief was trying to be hospitable. Chase was bitching at him even after he'd sworn Taijitu was safe.
He seated himself across from the man, but still felt uncomfortable. He always got a little tense in places he was unfamiliar with.
"Where... exactly am I?"
"This," he stated, "would be my not-so-humble abode."
Chase snickered, but kept his eyes averted. "I noticed."
Jack paused, considering this young man for a long while. "... What's your name, kid?"
"... Chase. Chase Young. You?"
"Jack Spicer; professional thief, spy, and proud founder and leader of the most successful underground mafia on the globe, The New Generation."
Chase finally looked at Jack, eyes wide. "So, you really do run a mafia."
Jack nodded. "I believe I just said that, yeah."
"Then, what do you want with Taijitu? She's just a snake."
Jack sighed again, albeit smirking, and put down his mug to massage the bridge of his nose. "How to explain... well, first off, she's not 'just a snake'. Ever noticed just how definite her coloring pattern is?"
"Well, yeah... but—"
"She's a species believed to be extinct."
Chase stared at him.
With no reply, he continued. "I'm not quite sure how you got ahold of her, but those are the facts," he shrugged.
"... You said you weren't selling her, or giving her away..."
"So... what, you just... want her for the sake of having her?"
Jack smirked. "Yup, pretty much."
Jack chuckled, and started eating his breakfast. "You've obviously heard of me, based on the confirmation of my mafia, so this may not be news: I am a greedy bastard. If there's one thing I like more than unique and valuable things, it's owning unique and valuable things. And if there's anything I enjoy more than owning unique and valuable things, it would be stealing said things. Therefore, even if 'Taijitu', as you call her, had been in some zoo in Brazil, I still would've stolen her. I assure you, Chase, it was nothing personal."
He scoffed. "I didn't doubt that, unless you somehow knew me; that would be kinda creepy."
Jack's smirk became a cunning cheshire grin. "Well, let's see... Judging by your honorable attitude towards your 'family' of reptiles, you have a conscience or some other ethical code of the like. The papers lying all over your house lead me to guess that even without your parents, you still go to school. Your headstrong attitude, however, suggests that you don't follow the rules to a T. The way you came at me last night was no spontaneous act of aggression, either; you take martial arts, or took it some time in the past."
Jack paused to examine a dumbfounded youth, and chuckled.
"You..." Chase blinked.
Spicer scarfed a chunk of french toast, and tapped a free finger against his temple. "This is the most powerful weapon any living creature can have."
While Chase was still gaping and trying to sort the jumble out in his own mind, Jack reached back and grabbed a previously invisible plate of waffles from the countertop and placed it in front of the teen.
At a confused glance, Jack explained, "One of the nastier side-effects of that drug I forced on you is vomiting, which means that right now you're running on empty."
Chase was about to say otherwise when his stomach chose to intervene rather loudly. He cringed and blushed.
Jack laughed and scarfed down the last of his french toast. "Eat up, kid. You'll need the energy."
Having the last word, the genius stood and made to leave the kitchen.
Chase blinked. "Uh– bu– Wait! Jack, I have more questions—!"
"All in due time, mi amigo joven." He shouted from the next room, "All in due time."
Young had a mind to run after him for that remark, but his stomach demanded nourishment at once. Grudgingly, he grabbed his fork and jabbed a waffle.
"'M not that young..."
Jack's Training room was roughly the size of two or three basketball courts. It wasn't anything flashy — every inch was a natural, dusty-looking, metallic gray — but it was far from mundane.
The genius stood in the very center of the vast room, surrounded by a faint, wide circle that indicated separated metal. He was in comfortable clothes, also gray, and in a standing, meditative stance.
Rearing Snake, he thought.
Jack breathed deeply, and shifted his weight onto his left leg. He crouched low to the ground, pushed his right leg far behind him without any weight, and kept his torso centered and arched. His left arm was bent horizontally as a visual elbow support, and his right elbow, over the left hand, bent back up to his shoulder with his hand as focused as his eyes. Jack held the stance for a whole minute, until he felt the aching warmth radiate from his thigh.
He twisted his weight-bearing ankle into a sharp pivot. Jack was facing the opposite wall now, his right leg holding his entire weight and bent even lower than before. His torso twisted left so his right arm could reach forward and up. His fingers were curled, tense, as if brandishing claws — or teeth. His other arm extended behind him, elegantly parallel with his leg.
He did look like a hissing crocodile, if not as dangerous as one.
For the next half-hour, Spicer performed several more yoga and tai chi positions. Then, once the stretching was done, he straightened.
"Engage 'Body Focus' Training; Minefield."
The floor around him shifted down and out of sight, and was promptly replaced with a floor packed with what appeared to be land mines.
Jack cracked his knuckles and breathed, "Float like a butterfly, sting like a mother."
He jumped. Hand spring, spinal twist, pivot bound, soaring flip.
And he landed in the heart of the mines. His tiger stance was low, calm, and ready. Not a single mine had been disturbed.
He practiced his gymnastics for another fifteen minutes in the cold room, leaping and twisting as if the mines didn't even exist. Even when his side pulled into a tight knot and it hurt him to breathe, he kept going. Jack knew he'd need these skills the most when his body was bleeding and nearly dead; he couldn't let the pain stop him.
From the corner of the room, a pair of eyes followed Jack's every move. They were fascinated; was it possible for such a dirty criminal to move with such grace?
Jack landed just outside of the minefield and went still. He held a low mountain stance and stared straight ahead for a good and long time. Jack's eyes narrowed.
"A picture would last longer."
"Well sorry, I just..."
"Can't believe your eyes?" Jack finished.
He straightened and faced the youth. "'Criminal' doesn't mean 'clumsy'."
"I know that, I've just... never seen anyone move so smoothly."
Jack smirked as his ego was stroked. Then he looked up.
"Engage 'Mind Focus' Training; Cameras."
The minefield shifted back down, and a new terrain was brought up. Here, there were various pieces of white furniture placed with and near their common couples, but scattered widely. It was like a blinding furniture store.
Chase also didn't miss the security cameras that spawned from the walls.
When he turned back to ask Jack was already crouching behind a sofa, as still as death. His eyes were deep and calm, completely aware of the world around him. The raw focus in this man's eyes scared Chase, and thrilled him to the core.
Jack's muscles moved in a fluid grace, keeping him just out of each camera's reach. He would distract, then dart, creep, and duck. His control was perfect, unlike anything Chase had ever seen before, which was saying a lot considering how many masters Chase had had.
Jack pulled one particularly ballsy move; after a small distraction from under a coffee table (oh, and how limber the man was!), he slid like quicksilver from under the table and leapt over the sofa. The tuck-and-roll landing barely made a sound. Hasty but calm, Spicer managed to slide under a kitchen table just before the cameras could catch him.
Chase's brows flew up. Jack smirked to himself.
The exercise ended too soon for Young. The cameras retracted, and the furniture descended. The room was, once again, an empty warehouse.
Jack approached his captive. "Y'know kid, I expected you to be poking all around my house trying to find a way out. Any reason to why I'm wrong?"
Chase blinked, his expression turning a bit downcast. "Well, I mean I would try getting out.... but....." He shrugged, unable to meet Jack's gaze. "There's no real point."
Spicer raised an eyebrow, not entirely surprised, and leaned against the cold wall. "No point, eh?"
"Nope. School was never my thing; I'm more of a physical guy. My reptiles are my only true family, too."
"How so, kid?"
Chase finally managed to look up at the older man. "Didn't you notice? I was the only one home when you nabbed me and Taijitu. My folks abandoned me with that goddamned mansion years ago. No teary goodbyes, no foster parents; just 'goodbye forever!' and out they went. If you killed me here, no one would ever know I was gone. No one but my reptiles would miss me, either."
Jack was thunderstruck by all this. Chase knew his parents had bailed; knew they were never coming back. Chase knew that his parents didn't care about him. If you killed me here, no one would ever know I was gone.
Did Chase... not care anymore?
TO BE CONTINUED...