Author's Note: In case you didn't happen to see which genres this story was categorized under, then I will warn you again:

This is an anguished and tortured tale that is NOT for the faint of heart.

Yes, I realize that Speed Racer: The Next Generation is a children's show, but this sorrowful, (as the Fanfiction-lingo-savvy would say) "Plot Bunny" has been waiting patiently within the far reaches of my mind for quite some time now. I believe that it meandered its way into the recesses of my (demented, some would say) mind shortly after I posted Worst Fear. But, I was too young a writer to take on this task (especially when trying to keep it at a "K" or "K+" rated level, as I so often did back in the day... A more detailed version of this story could easily be rated "M", as I am VERY paranoid about ratings...) Actually, X's 'Hope' speech from Hope and Suffering was originally a part of this story. Only in the present moment, after joining this online writing community in August of 2009, am I able to understand the art of Fanfiction well enough to make my feeble attempt at this story idea known.

Also, although this story takes place in the summer directly after Secrets of the Engine, this story in no way related to How to Save a Life. This story simply doesn't go well with any others... although Worst Fear will be referenced many times...

I feel like I am a female combination of the two Racer brothers: Speed compensating for my back-story and X compensating for my status as an overprotective older sibling. However, unlike my other Fanfictions, this story in its entirety is neither in X's point of view nor Speed's point of view. Shattered is written completely in third person. For this story, I find that I need to be in many places at once, something I cannot do while constricted to the mind of one character, no matter how far away from my comfort zone I must stray to do so.

Disclaimer: I don't own Speed Racer: The Next Generation.
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"Mrngh..." Speed grumbled as morning sunlight seeped into his closed eyes. He lazily opened one sapphire eye to survey his surroundings. The teenager was lying down on the floor of a living room that was not his. Forgetting the events of the night before, adrenaline coursed through Speed's veins as he stood up, now wide awake.

Where am I? The younger of the two Racer brothers wondered, taking in his surroundings as he scratched the back of his head absently. Scattered about the floor of the living room were several teenagers, some on chairs, one on the couch, and most resting on the floor. Among those on the floor was X. Oh, yeah, the party... Speed pieced together most of last night.

X and Speed had gone to a party (the first since summer had started) hosted by Tyler, a somewhat popular boy that attended Racing Academy, telling their parents that they had nothing to worry about. Alcohol? Tyler is a goodie-goodie, he would never serve alcohol. When would they be back? It was a slumber party. A slumber party? Yes, teenage boys still held slumber parties.

It had taken much convincing on both Speed and X's parts to convince their parents to let them go (seeing as what happened the last time they went to a party, the Racers weren't too keen on having their children coming home with hangover) but Speed Senior and Trixie both consented. Under one condition: take only one car. Why only one? Because the parents trusted their children to not let the other drive drunk. And they would know if Speed and X had consumed alcohol.

Therefore, Speed and X tried not to get drunk. Just one jell-o shot.

Or two.

Or three.

Speed put his hand to his mouth and exhaled. He brought his hand to his nose and sniffed. No vomit; not even the stench of alcohol could be detected. This meant that he wasn't in hangover, and he would have a better chance of avoiding his father's keen perception (Speed Senior could tell if a stranger had been drunk the week before). However, Speed knew that X didn't have as much... control... over his alcohol consumption as Speed did.

"X." Speed said, poking his older brother's shoulder. "X, wake up. We need to get home." He was answered only with a grunt and a pillow to the face. "X, we need to brush our teeth, take a shower, and hide our clothes to try and get this beer smell off." X opened his emerald eyes and sat up groggily.

"One: the jell-o shots had vodka in them, not beer. Get it right. Two: you couldn't have waited ten more minutes?" X said, clearly having had more alcohol than his younger brother the night before.

"Not unless you want to take the bus home. We're driving my car back to the house, remember?"

"Ugh. Fine." X said, massaging his temples. "How many jell-o shots did you have last night?"

"Three... I think... but I don't have the smell in my breath."

"Then you drive. Mom and dad will know something's up if they see me drive like this." X said, standing up.

"What do you mean? You're not nearly as drunk as you were last time. Even now, I wouldn't even classify you as buzzed." Speed said as the two exited the house, being careful not to awaken their friends from their drunken slumber. Once outside, the sun warming their bodies, the brothers spotted the Mach 6 across the street. They innocently entered the car, Speed in the driver's seat, X taking shotgun, and drove out of the suburban neighborhood. The morning sun was still low in the sky; the clock on the Mach 6's dashboard read seven thirty a.m. It took one hour to cross the rather large city, journeying from Misty Oaks in suburbia all the way to their isolated desert home, caressed lightly by pine trees and desert scrub. Speed and X didn't exchange words, each too exhausted from the night before, until Speed stopped the car in the driveway.

"What if they find out?" Speed asked.

"Then I guess it's no driving for a while..." X said indifferently. He had been in that kind of trouble before and, honestly, it was no big deal.

Perhaps it was the fact that Speed and X were tired, and buzzed, or perhaps it was that seeing something right in front of oneself is sometimes very hard to do. Perhaps, had the two brothers paused to take in their surroundings, they would've noticed a rather large crack in their living room window, or the fact that their front door looked... off. But perhaps doesn't mean definitely.

The two brothers exited the car and walked up to their front door. Speed fished his house keys out of his pocket and slid them into the lock. The entire door crashed to the ground. For a split second, the Racer brothers counted themselves lucky that the door hadn't crushed them both. Then, they saw the destroyed remains of their home.

Papers were strewn everywhere. Chairs were upturned. In the kitchen, the sink was running. A cucumber lay on the countertop, only half sliced. The knife was sticking out of the vegetable, looking like a murder weapon. Bullet holes lined the walls, along with a few smears of blood. In the corner of the living room was an open flame, threatening to spread with each passing moment. Without a word, X sprinted to the hall closet and grabbed a fire extinguisher. Running back to the living room, X pulled the pin, releasing the white foam, choking the fire to a smoldering pile of ashes.

"X-X?" Speed stammered. "W-what's g-going on?" X didn't answer his brother. He only bent down to find a navy blue jacket with a single red stripe on it. On top of the stripe was a number five. The jacket had a large rip in the arm, and the rip was stained with blood.

"...Dad's jacket..." He murmured. Seeing the blood, Speed flew into a panic, running throughout the two-story house, searching desperately for his parents.

"MOM?! DAD!?" Speed yelled, over and over again, tears forming in his eyes. After a few moments, X joined his brother in calling his parents, clutching the jacket for dear life. Suddenly, something small and white fell from the jacket pocket. X and Speed stopped; it was a piece of paper. A letter, perhaps? Surely it would shed some light on the situation! Handing his brother the jacket, X picked up the note.

"...It's definitely in dad's handwriting..." He said, solemnly. "It says: Spritle will help." X looked at his brother to make sure he was all right. Speed was in shock, staring at the bloodied jacket in his trembling hands. X put a hand on Speed's shoulder. Speed looked up at his brother. "Maybe Spritle will have answers." X said. Speed nodded and followed his brother back to the Mach 6, but he let X drive this time. Speed held onto the jacket with white knuckles, urging himself not cry. Telling himself over and over that his parents were still alive. Deep down, X was doing the same thing, but on the surface, X was fully confident that once they got to Spritle's house, their uncle would tell them that everything's okay. That the worst didn't happen. That their parents had a little run-in with evil ninjas or something like that. Yeah.

Of course, it's hard to tell someone that when you're not there yourself.

When the Racer brothers arrived at their uncle's house, they found it in a similar state that they had found their own. It was only now did Speed speak.

"...Are mom and dad..." Speed gulped, refusing to meet his brother's gaze. "...Dead? ...Does this mean that they're... gone?"

"...I don't know..." X said. The two were silent for a moment, wondering what to do next. Where they would go. Who to turn to. Suddenly, Speed's car key started humming. Preset voice-activated controls had set off a state-of-the-art, high-tech DNA scanning device, checking that Speed and X were alone. Once that had been verified, electromagnetic fields were tapped into and sent the key towards what it was programmed in that specific scenario to do. Speed Senior had a Plan C.

Hope shone through Speed's eyes. Perhaps the key will lead him to answers, like it did so many times before. X was still wary. The humming key led Speed towards an old (now ripped to shreds) family portrait of his grandparents, parents, uncle, and Racer X. Speed removed the broken picture to find a safe that opened through a DNA scanner. The teenager placed his right hand on the electronic device and the safe opened to reveal a small electronic device. It was circular with a large red button surrounding a lens in the middle. The key stopped humming, and Speed reached in and grabbed the device, pressing the button.

Through the lens, a three-dimensional holographic projection of Speed and X's father appeared. He was younger: the video had been made years before.

"Speed, X. If you're watching this, then everyone is gone, including me. I'm so sorry that I couldn't be there for you. It must be so painful to have your whole world... ripped away from you..." A tear slid down Speed Senior's face. He took a deep breath. "X, I'm not sure if you knew about... your brother... before I died or not, and Speed... I don't know if you know about your heritage yet... That's my fault... But you have to watch each other's back's now. X, I'm putting you in charge of Speed. I don't know how old you'll be when you find this... X, if you aren't eighteen, even if you're just about to turn eighteen in a few months, I want you and Speed to go find Wilson Sparkolemew. He should be under the name of Doctor Andre Chezco in Russia. If it's been over one year since anyone saw Dr. Chezco, then he's under the name of Professor Antonio Benovoli here in America. If, for some reason, your uncle Rex made himself known to the family before you found this, then go to him. Stay with either Wilson or Rex until X turns eighteen..." Tears were streaming down the adult's face now. "Speed... X... I love you both... so much... and I'm so sorry I left you... I'm so sorry I couldn't keep myself alive long enough for me to come back... I'm so sorry..." The hologram stopped, then went out.

By now, Speed had broken down fully. He was sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest, still clutching his father's jacket, weeping. The full extent of what had happened sunk in the boy's mind, quickly ripping everything the teenager had come to know in the past year to shreds. X noticed the emotionally ragged condition that his brother was in, and sat down beside him. X first put an arm around Speed's shoulder, pulling his brother -the only piece of his family that he had left- closer.

"Speed, it'll be okay..." X murmured, he himself not knowing if that was true. "It'll be okay... it'll be okay... it'll be okay..." X repeated, clinging to his brother not just to comfort Speed, but to comfort himself as well. "It'll be okay... it'll be okay... it'll be okay..." X was crying softly now, something that he never did. It went against his nature.

Death changes people.

The two brothers sat, side by side, each crying, each comforting the other. They spent the night in the Mach 6, neither wanting to sleep in their uncle's house, for fear that painful memories would come to mind.

*****

Speed awoke to gunfire from a helicopter when the sun was just peeking out from under the horizon. X was still asleep, but Speed was already in the driver's seat -a lucky break- and was quickly working out a way to evade their unknown attackers. Speed knew that the bulletproof metal would not hold for long. He turned the key in the ignition and floored the gas pedal. Drifting on every turn, Speed made the car a fast-moving target. After executing a few maneuvers, he almost smiled.

Almost.

Speed then remembered his chameleon system, and turned it on. Instantly, the entire outside of the car became invisible. The helicopter fired a few more times, but admitted defeat. By this time, X had woken up.

"Mrngh... Speed?" X asked groggily.

"Hm?" Speed replied grimly, not wanting to speak.

"... Please tell me that yesterday was a dream..." X murmured, looking out the window at the vast desert landscape. A tear rolled down his face.

"...If it was... then we both had the same dream..." Speed said, his voice cracking, tears returning. "...Where are we going now?" Speed asked.

"... To Russia. Isn't Sparky still up there? ...You have a passport... right?" X replied.

"...Yeah... but how are we supposed to get there?" Speed asked.

"...I'll think of something... I'll get us there... don't worry..." X said. To himself -and only to himself- he admitted that he didn't know how to get himself and Speed to Russia. "...Maybe we should go back to the house... get some supplies..." X quietly suggested.

"...Yeah..." Speed consented, already on the way to his house. The drive only took about five minutes from Spritle's house.

When they arrived, seeing their house in shambles for the second time, hoping that their parents would come running out of the house to meet them... but knowing that they wouldn't, the two brothers cried. Walking to their rooms for what seemed like the last time, they cried. Gathering basic necessities (clothes, toiletries, non-perishable foods, etcetera), they cried. X retrieved his emergency credit card, grateful that he had saved up a rather large sum of money in his account instead of blowing off the money on material possessions. Knowing all too well what the people who had killed his parents could to, Speed secretly grabbed a large knife from the kitchen and hid it in his backpack. No sooner had he done this than X walked down the stairs.

"...We should leave a memento... something for this place to remember us by..." X didn't dare say 'give this place a proper funeral'. It was all too soon.

"... We should..." Speed replied. Suddenly, he had an idea. Walking into the garage, he found two paintbrushes and a bucket of red paint. Speed grabbed them all and walked into the living room, stopping at the wall with the bullet holes. X caught on immediately. Standing on top of chairs, the orphaned teenagers wrote above the bullet holes in blood-red paint, tears streaming down their faces as they did so.

Family Safety Shelter

Touch Home

Life Breath Security

Hope Love

Underneath the words, but still above the bullet holes, stood one question:

Why destroy it?

The teenagers stepped down from the chairs. They stared at their work for a few moments.

"... Why did they destroy it?" Speed spoke up... before emotionally breaking down once again. The two boys walked into the garage to say their last goodbyes. X stared at the Shooting Star –his beloved Shooting Star- contemplating whether or not he should take it.

"... Could we afford to take two cars to Russia?" X wondered aloud.

"... I don't see why we can't..." Speed said.

"...There's reasons why we should and there's reasons why we shouldn't..." X said, not wanting to prevent the trip to Russia by an extra car.

"X, take your car. I'll take mine... We'll... watch each others backs... just like on the track..." Speed said.

"...Yeah... just like on the track..."

And so the two set off on their journey... together, but in separate vehicles. They had made sure to bring their father's jacket with them. The teenagers made sure to always keep their comp systems on, unless suspicious activity arose. If an armed helicopter was spotted, then Speed would signal X by engaging his stealth mode. X would engage his own chameleon system once he received the signal. Only twice during the day did this happen, and once at night. They traveled on the back roads, taking up more time, but also avoiding danger. Because both the Mach 6 and the Shooting Star had gasless engines, gas stations were generally bypassed... unless someone needed to relieve themselves. They made it all the way from their hometown in Utah far into the untamed wilds of Idaho before the sun went down. The teenagers spent the night in a small forest. Speed pitched the tent. X lit a fire to warm themselves, while making sure that Speed had his fill of beef jerky before starting on his own dinner.

"........X?" Speed murmured after a long while.

"...Yes?"

"........ Can I....... Can I tell you something?" Speed asked. The question struck X.

"Speed, you can tell me anything."

".......When I was at the orphanage.... someone once told me that I didn't know what... real pain was like... he said that I never knew my parents... that I would never know the pain of having parents taken from you......" Speed took a deep yet ragged breath. ".....Now that I've known both....... X...... it's the same.... it's the same pain.... it's not greater, it's not weaker.... it's the same....." Speed said as he began to cry, pulling his knees to his chest in a desperate attempt to disappear. X's heart lurched. He pulled his brother into a hug.

".... Speed? That jerk had no idea what he was talking about...... The pain is the same... when it's by itself.... But... when you combine abandonment with death.... Speed, there's not a lot of scenarios that I can think of that are worse than that... To be broken... then fixed... only to be broken again... Speed..." X was now at a loss for words. "Speed... I think you need some rest..." Was all he could say. Speed nodded softly, and, using his backpack as a pillow, curled up in the tent to go to sleep, secretly taking the knife out of his backpack and hiding it under the folds of the tent.

It was only after Speed fell asleep, it was only after the fire died down, when X curled up into a ball next to his brother... and cried himself to sleep, mourning the loss of his broken family.

Author's Note: And so there you have it. Reviews are much appreciated, as are flames.