Moving On-

Hey guys! I'm planning on making this a full-scale American Dragon fan fiction but I'm not sure if anyone actually reads American Dragon anymore lol. If you like what you have read please review!

Jake Long stood on one of the busiest sidewalks of New York, adjusting his shades as he surveyed the area. The faces of strangers stared blankly ahead, walking to their destination with no time for distractions or friendly gestures. The sun peaked over the Empire State Building, creating rays of lights that danced upon its children below. Jake strolled to school with a faint smile on his face, hands disappearing into his pockets while he looked into the distance.

There were many things that bothered Jake. They shouldn't be of concern, but his own personal issues troubled him more than he would like to admit. Being a dragon of any sorts could be tough, but the past events with the Huntsclan caused painful memories Jake wished he could forget.

"New York Times! Ready to go for your own personal satisfaction!" hollered a boy standing on the edge of the street. Tattered rags wrapped around his body with ash evident on his face. He must have been in a dragon's fight, Jake mused. Jake carelessly brushed passed him.

"Care to buy one sir?" the boy yelled desperately at him.

"No." He quickened his pace and darted into an alley. He wouldn't make it to school on time if he went the normal route.

"Dragon up," he whispered, the words so familiar on his lips. Red wings sprouted from his back as his face became distorted, turning into that of a dragon. His claws scratched the walls of the parallel buildings as they propelled him into the air. His emerald scales that outlined his spine gleamed under the rising sun.

Jake lazily flew over his beloved city, flapping his wings every so often whilst gliding. The cool air cushioned his body as he descended back to human reality. The main priority of flying during the day time was to subtlety fit in with everyone else, which may seem crazy if one didn't know the temporary illusion given to every magical creature.

Hiding behind a trashcan, Jake returned back to his human form and marched towards school. In the hallway Spud and Trixie were bickering over the idea of fried Twinkies, too busy to notice him at first. He didn't have the heart to join them, and quickly ducked into another corridor.

"Where do you think you're going Mister Long?" Mr. Rotwood said as he blocked Jake's path.

"To class sir, I just need to stop by my locker." Rotwood's beady eyes glared at Jake, "Is this some kind of joke?"

Jake raised an eyebrow.

"Did you, did you just address me as sir?" Jake nodded in response.

"Well, I'll see you in class Mr. Long," Rotwood said flabbergasted. He waddled his way through the throngs of freshmen at Millard Fillmore High and closed his classroom door.

Jake smiled and eased his way out of the crowd and next to his locker. Just as he finished his combination, a blond beefy kid appeared beside him.

"Hey Mommy's boy." Brad Morton puffed out his chest as he shoved Jake to the side. "Let's see what you have in your locker."

"Get out of there!" Jake panicked, seeing Brad ruffle through his books and folders.

"Relax toothpick, I'm just looking for something I know you have." Jake could only stand and watch, fearful of drawing attention to himself

"Hmmm, it's not there," Brad disappointedly muttered as he backed away from the locker.

"That's right," Jake said as he nudged Brad out of the way. "Go beat up some scrawny little kid just like the old days until you've had enough amusement."

Brad narrowed his eyes mischievously. "Oh I will." He was about to leave when a picture slipped out from the disarray of folders. Jake's eyes widened.

"What have we here?" Brad crouched down and was about to snatch it when a pale cold hand gripped his wrist.

"Don't even think about it." Furious red eyes assaulted the Bradster.

"Who are you?" asked Brad, mystified and confused.

"The American Dragon," seethed Jake, talons already protruding from his fingertips.

"Owww!" yelped Brad as he tried to yank his arm loose from Jake's grasp. "Something's piercing me, let go!" By now a crowd of onlookers assembled around the two, hushed cheering and betting began in anticipation of the fight.

"Never touch my stuff again Brad," Jake smoothly said, his voice more calm and controlled than his physical stature. Brad continued to struggle and tried sweeping Jake's feet from under him, only to lose his own balance in the process. He landed on his ass with his feet plopped out in front of him. And still Jake held on. Laughs echoed through the hallways as students yelled their support for Jake.

"Well?" inquired Jake, completely focused on Brad.

"Just let me go!" he pleaded, his eyes showing fear and humiliation. No one had ever seen Brad so helplessly humiliated and afraid. Kids pinched each other as if to make sure they weren't dreaming. Ipods and iphones were taken out to try record the pandemonium, but couldn't work because of Jake's illusion.

The claws had also instinctively retracted when the amount of attention around them would surely lead to someone seeing the formidable and grotesque sight. However, Jake's feral instinct remained.

"Fight him Jake!" "Finish him!" "Do the Wushu finger hold!"

The temptation was great, but Jake did none of that, and continued to stare at Brad until a voice screamed at him to let him go.

Trixie and Spud had rushed to the scene and managed to break up the crowd. Boos and insults were hurtled at them as they tried to lessen Jake's death-grip on Brad. "Jake, what are you doing?" yelled Trixie, a look of amazement plastered across her face.

"Trixie?" Jake suddenly became aware of his surroundings and flinched with surprised.

"Jake bro, you need to cool it and like relax alright?" Spud calmly said, placing a sweaty hand on Jake's shoulder.

"Where am I?" A fiery headache drummed inside of his head, Jake flinching with pain at every word that was being said.

"You're going to be in detention for life if you don't let go of Brad," snapped Trixie as she shoved Jake to the side.

"Help me," Brad moaned, his arm shaking with pain as streams of blood slithered down his wrist.

"Jake? Did you do this?" She turned around and faced him while holding Brad's arm. Claw marks were everywhere.

Jake flushed red and shook his head. "Of course I didn't."

"Oh really?" Hissed someone behind them.

A woman hastily shoved Jake, Trixie, and Spud out of the way.

She hoisted up Brad on her shoulder and muttered an incantation under her breath.

"Dragon, meet me in my office now, we're going to have a serious discussion."

Then she was gone, but Jake knew who she was and how devastating the consequences of his actions would be. Counselor Omina was the Dragon of Atlantis and one of the members of the Dragon Council. She also happened to serve as a counselor at his highschool, though he was suspicious that she transitioned here just to keep an eye out for him rather than help other students. Something told Jake they weren't going to be talking about anything school related.

Her stern face scowled at him, eyebrows furrowed with anger because of the commotion he had caused, though her eyes were sympathetic.

Ms. Omina's office consisted of neatly stacked books on her desk and folders filed alphabetically in her portfolio next to her computer. The lights had dimmed when he came into the office, and a peculiar smell met his nose as he took a seat into the chair across from her desk. Omina was furiously typing on the computer, her long bony fingers slightly shaking from what looked to be Parkinsons, though from what Lao Shi told him she was able to control it for more than 50 years.

" Dragon, I've been meaning to have this discussion with you for awhile," her face softened as she spoke. "Ever since…Hong Kong… I know things with… Rose are complicated with her living there with her parents and her new life."

"She should come back to New York and help us with our intelligence agency that's imperative to our survival," Jake interjected.

"Which we have rejected that plan and will continue to make sure she won't come back," Omina replied, while returning her attention to her laptop.

"Why? Why can't she be allowed to help us?" He clenched his fist with anger.

Omina stopped typing and stared back at him. "There's no need for her, American Dragon. You know as well as I that the war with the Huntsclan is over, thanks to Rose. We don't need to worry about the Huntsclan anymore, and quite frankly it's your responsibility to understand that."

"That's not true," he protested, unwilling to back down from her stare. "Rose remembers everything, Omina. Everything. Do you know what that means? She has information not just about the Huntsclan, but of those that interacted with them and helped the Huntsclan become so powerful."

"That's a grand assumption, Jake." His eyes widened. She never used his first name, she preferred to call him by his title, the American Dragon, which was the formality that they instructed within the council. "Have you ever wondered if Rose could only remember a certain amount of things? How do you know that she has the necessary details that could help us partake in abolishing the dark faeries rule in the underworld?"

"She remembers me," Jake quietly whispered. Her eyes softened with realization.

"Jake, that picture she discovered may have brought back some memories, but couldn't have restored her memory completely. You need to control your feelings and make sure that fight with Brad will never happen again. To him, or anyone else that disturbs you."

Jake stood up and rested his hands on the desk, his face inches from hers.

"I spent a whole week with her after that, and she knew everything I talked about." Omina leaned back in her cushioned chair and smiled. "How do you know she wasn't pretending, perhaps remembering only the important events of her life such as spending time with you, and forgetting her dark past?"

Jake opened his mouth to lash out a retort, but stopped himself. Was it true? Could she have been pretending?

"She knows she loves you Jake, but the dragon counsel and I know that you want what's best for her. A safe lifestyle where evil is least likely to attack her is the best choice Jake. Don't steal that from her. I hope you remember that you nearly got her killed in the fight against the Dark Dragon."

Jake shook his head in protest, but the truth was evident. He did almost get her locked up with the Dark Dragon for one thousand years, and he would have never forgiven himself for it. He turned around and solemnly walked to the door.

"I'm sorry Jake. I really am," she called out as he closed the door.

Omina sighed as she went back to work on the laptop. The counsel could not let Jake know that Rose did, in fact, remember everything. If she and him got back together, Jake wouldn't be prepared to fight against another enemy. One who would turn Jake's love against him, and destroy everyone who stood in his way.

Jake cruised back to his locker, ashamed of his selfish actions. Meeting Rose in Hong Kong was meant to be, but for her to travel back to NYC with him, it wasn't. He carefully grabbed the picture that Brad had tried to take from his back pocket. It was of Rose and him on their last day in Hong Kong, watching the sunset from the top of her apartment building. That last day was the happiest he had ever been, and nothing could change that.

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