Okay. So this is my first Kickin' It story, yay! And yeah, it's about jack going missing. I realize it's a kind of overdone idea but it's been bouncing around in my head for a while, so I figured I might as well get it down. This is kind of the prologue, I guess. It's the direct aftermath of his disappearance, and the day he actually disappeared will be covered in flashbacks throughout the rest of the story. The rest of the story won't be written like this, though, excluding flashbacks.
I only own the plot, the detectives and a few other original characters. Kickin' It is not mine.
Kim
"Can you tell me anything that might help us find Jack?"
Kim Crawford blinks back tears, nodding weakly.
"Maybe…I-I don't know."
"Anything you have. Anything would be helpful."
She hates to be seen like this, but Jack is-Jack is-gone.
"It was the-the stupid family history project that did it. You could tell, just from the way Jack seemed to crumple the minute Mrs. Burns announced the project that this was going to be-big. Huge."
She chokes back a sob, because, really-Jack is missing and she was a terrible person because she could have saved him or stopped him or something. Now, though, that chance has passed. She's useless.
"And all I could think about was the big tournament on Saturday."
The interrogator just nods. His face is devoid of sympathy, but Kim can tell that he's condemning her in his mind. She shivers and tries to continue.
"I feel so bad about not doing anything-he was just so out of it after that. At the dojo after school, he even got beat by Eddie. Eddie. I-wish I'd done something then. I should have at least ask-asked him."
Kim shudders as another sob wracks her body. She should be strong, tough, holding it together for Jack's sake, but…she can't. Everywhere she turns, there's someone offering their condolences like Jack's dead, and everyone has been treating her like she might snap, too, and take off after Jack. It worries her-just how bad is this?
The interrogator motions for her to continue.
"Were there any obvious signs after that that something was wrong?"
She shrugs.
"Sort of. He was just-so distant, so different, and-and-"
"And?"
"And-I don't know! There was just something really off about him for the rest of the week. And every time anyone brought up the project…he snapped. Once, he even started crying!"
Kim is beginning to sound hysterical. She can't help it. She just wants to go home, and sleep, and maybe after a quick powernap she'll go punch some dummies. That's what she needs.
Then she thinks of Jack, wherever he is, and how much she's beginning to realize she needs him. Sniffling a bit, she continues.
"Then he disappeared. I'd say he probably ran away, except for the fact that Jack has never been one to run away from his problems."
The interrogator looks at her funny, and she cringes. God, she must look terrible.
"I just want to find him," she whispers finally. "He's my best friend."
Milton
Milton, unlike Kim, is handling things well. He's not crying, he's not pouring his heart out to a stone-like detective, and he's not trying to analyze every second of the past week trying to figure out where exactly they went wrong.
He is, however, glaring angrily at the detective. Everything about this seems so wrong to him-why are they in here, asking useless questions when they should be finding Jack?
"I don't have anything to say, you know," he states in the most matter-of-fact tone he can manage.
The interrogator just stares at him.
Milton begins to sweat a little, because defying authority just isn't a very Milton thing to do. And deep down, he knows that he should be trying to help the police-it's just that, after so much time living in Jacks shadow, depending on Jack for everything, he can't bring himself to take the lead.
He moans and buries his head in his hands.
"I'm sorry." He whispers finally. "Jacks just…always been the hero, I guess. I'm just so worried that he might be gone for good…And I'm not sure I know anything useful-maybe Kim-"
He doesn't get farther than that before the detective sends him out. He hurries out the door, pretending to miss the peeved look on the detective's face.
Jerry
Sitting inside the interrogation room and answering questions isn't how Jerry had imagined his weekend would go.
Although, he thinks to himself, it was better than waiting outside with Jack's hysterical mother and the depressing bunch that was the Wasabi Warriors. That had been torture.
The detective is cold and hard, and to be honest Jerry doesn't think he likes kids very much. And when he asks questions…well, the answers Jerry gives aren't entirely his. It's like he draws out the answers he wants, not the answers people have.
"And when did you last see Jack Anderson?"
Jerry sighs. He remembers the last time he saw Jack-just after that tournament on Saturday. Everyone had been going out for ice cream to celebrate-but Jack, who had been looking pale and sick, declined. An hour later, Jack's mom called, panicked. And that was when the search had begun.
He says as much out loud, and the detective jots it down.
"That was…what, a day and a half ago? Don't they say the best evidence in a crime is gathered in the first forty-eight hours?"
The detective actually looks mildly amused at this. "No," he says with a faint smile, dropping the deep, scary interrogator voice. "That usually only applies to homicides-and we really do think Jack's still alive."
Jerry's heart does a little leap at this, and when the detective lets him go a few minutes later, he's still smiling broadly.
Eddie
Eddie steps into the interrogation room, nervous. Everyone but Jerry had come out of this room looking upset-and considering Jerry's eternal state of confusion, that wasn't surprising.
He sits down immediately, and the lady sitting across from strikes him as a more competent version of Joan. She introduces herself as Detective Marshall, and she's taking over for some guy called Keith-apparently, he was the one making everyone cry.
"I don't know why Jack ran away!" he blurts out, right off the bat, and she stares at him.
"Honey," she says in a thick southern drawl, "You think Jack ran away?"
Eddie shrugs. "I dunno. But he's a black belt in karate, so if he were kidnapped wouldn't he have put up a fight or-"
He breaks off, realizing what he's saying-basically, that Jack had done the one thing he would never, ever do. Detective Marshall seems to realize that this is a tough topic for him, and gently steers him onto a subject: the karate tournament on Saturday.
"The last time any of you saw Jack was Saturday, right?"
Eddie nods sadly. "Right after the tournament, yeah. We-did pretty well, not counting Jack, so we went to for ice cream. To celebrate. We invite Jack, but he didn't want to come-said he was feeling kind of sick or something-so we went on without him. And that was the last time we saw him."
Detective Marshall sighs, then tells him he's free to go. "Thank you for your time," she says, and he takes the opportunity to escape.
There, he tells himself. That wasn't so hard. But deep down, though, he knows it was.
Rudy
"Tell us what you know about Jack Anderson's disappearance."
That's the first thing they say to him when he steps in the room. 'They' being a tall blonde woman with a southern drawl and a stony faced man who seriously creeps him out.
"Sit down." It's an order, not an invitation. Rudy sits.
He doesn't know anything, though. He's well aware that he's probably a suspect-he just doesn't know why. And he doesn't have any idea what he could say to change their minds.
"I didn't have anything to do with it, you know. I would never-I would never hurt anybody! Especially not one of my students!"
The detectives are giving him this look, like 'we know you did it so stop trying to fool us,' and he withers.
"I didn't do it!" he repeats, again and again for a little while until it's become a mantra , and before he realizes it, he's practically crying, and he has no idea why.
The detectives look at each other, and the lady steps reaches forward to comfort him. "I believe you," she says, and he notices how she doesn't include the other guy. "But we do information, and we need it badly. Your students-they've definitely given us some useful information, but not enough to go on. We were hoping you would be able to tell us some more."
Rudy shrugs and sniffles a bit. "I-he's been off all week, you know, and the last time I saw him was after that tournament. That's really all I know. Kim might know more; they were pretty close."
They go on like that for almost an hour more, until Rudy feels like they have squeezed every last detail of the past week-from what books he read to what he fed Tip-Tip-and then they release him. By then, he's exhausted, and both detectives look fed up with him. They practically kick him out of the interrogation room.
As he's leaving, he barely misses the withering glares they send his way. Barely.
Okay, so I realize that some of their reactoins are a bit...weird, to say the least. But I needed some way to distinguish between each character, and this kind of helped me give them each a different sort of personality. I dunno. Anyone who wants to beta this or give me some helpful feedback, that would be seriously helpful. So, yeah. Review!