The Aftermath

Disclaimer: I do not own Xiaolin Showdown…I just have a little less of a life than most people…

Chapter One: Red Handed

Jack rests his face in his hands as he takes a rest. Finding a fairly smooth rock in the woods takes some time, but was always worth the wait. He plops himself down happily enjoying the relief as he removes his shoes. This running took up most of his time.

But those people could never find him here… He breaths deeply looking up at the cloudy sky, feeling the cool contrasting breeze of the mountains in his skin as he allows his mind to wander back to that day. That stupid day.

"This whole thing is stupid." He mumbles, burying his face in his folded arms resting atop his knees. "If only…"

They never even considered it was kid, until they found his name (easy enough when his identity is Jack Spicer evil boy genius) on the web and they knew where to look.

Jack's basement was raided. They found everything…the robots, the machinery, the Wu, the plans…everything but Jack. He had been at Chase's lair trying to convince the overlord of darkness to give him fighting lessons, poor Jack.

It was a nice afternoon all the same. Enough to make Jack squeal as he smiled during his flight home. The sun was covered by several shady clouds and there was no wind. That meant perfect flying weather for him. He had gotten home in half the time, which meant he would be on time for dinner…

…

Jack happily swings his front door open with a kick and strolls into the living room whistling pointlessly. A small cough send him tripping over his own two feet in sudden shock. He looks at the sudden confusion before him.

Cops and detectives all over his living room. His pale mother being questioned, tears in her eyes and his father red from frustration pushing cameras and papers out of his face. Jack feels his knees growing weak and almost topples to the floor from the sudden spin. A cop approaches him slowly. Jack turns around but two deputies are at his front door.

"Don't be frightened. Son, may I have a slight word with you?" The cop asks. He had never expected the boy to look this pathetic or young in real life. He figured the title was more of a distraction, not a fact.

A small boy of no more than fifteen, in a black coat that did nothing to hide his slim form, pale skin as if he were dying and chattering teeth aiding to his giant tearing eyes…what a criminal, seriously.

But he could not get distracted, they had more than enough proof.

"Please take a seat over here on your sofa…"

Jack is persuaded by the deputies to go to his couch where he sits across from his parents. He looks at them desperately, wishing to sit with his mother.

"What's your name, son?"

His eyes dart from the officer to his mother. Sinking his head into his jacket, he makes a slight nod.

"We'll need you to speak up son…"

"J-Jack…" He stammers. "Look, Mr. Cop sir, w-whatever it was I didn't do it!" He pleads waving his palms wildly.

"Calm down…we haven't accused you of anything." The officer notes the kids terrible acting. He must use the old crocodile tears often .

"So, Jack…just Jack, then?" Jack's body stiffens. "You're home schooled yes?"

"Yeah…w-what of it? It aint a crime!"

"Of course not…but tell me, when do you go out? I mean after you finish your studies…you must hang out kids in your neighborhood, cyber pals? Anything, son?"

"You mean hang out…people I hang out with?" Jack looks to his parents. "I-I don't. The friends and hanging out thing…I don't"

"Where did you come from just now then?"

"I was out…but I'm not often."

Already changing his story…typical kid.

"I spend all my time in the basement…"

The key words.

"Basement?" The officer looks to Jack's parents.

"Our basement. You see Jack is a pale boy, he bruises and burns easily…he's never liked being in the sun. He wined for a large space to play in so we agreed to give him the thing for himself. We never use it you see. At least its being used." Jack's mother tenderly answers.

"Well then…lets get to the point so we can get this whole thing straightened out. Used in what way?" The officer asks Jack.

"Used…in what way? Like a basement I don't know! I just play video games and stuff."

"Son, is this…your robot?" The policeman asks holding a picture out to Jack before briefly showing his parents.

Jack looks up at the picture. His robot looks so cool, but he cannot say a thing. Bashfully he turns his head the other way and between clenched teeth negatives the question.

"I don't build bots." He mumbles.

"Jack builds models as a hobby officer…" His mother timidly offers. "This picture does look vaguely familiar." She adds tapping her chin. "But, I don't see how my son could have built a…"

"…but our son…could never build such a contraption as you say." His father continues. "He's just not that bright a child. No common sense to build a robot. Just models." His father nods as he speaks.

"He's home schooled, did you say?" The officer inquires.

"Jack is home schooled. He does all of his work, he's very, very bright. But I really don't see how our son could construct a robot of that sort." His mother admits. "Jack, officer, is rather peculiar you see…his antics are strange, but he would never go as far as to build an actual robot. He's no genius."

Jack sends his mother an unnoticed glare. One the officer himself takes strange. As if the boy was truly insulted just now.

"There was his grandmother, dear." Her husband whispers.

Jack's mother gasps as she hushes her husband. "Don't even say a thing like that. That woman was mad off her rocker! Our son could never even consider such a god-awful idea as ruling the world!" She smacks her hand to her chest and turns from her husband.

"What a terrible thing to say about your own mother!" Jack's father accuses timidly.

Jack's mother collects herself. It was unlike her to speak so harshly. "Officer. My mother was mentally ill…she believed she could take over the world." The last sentence is hushed as if so Jack could not hear. "But my Jack is mentally sane. He may dress like a gray clown, but he is not insane." She states matter-of-factly.

"He may dress terribly with the worst fashion, but he sure is bright." His father adds in. "No common sense, but he is bright. His paper graders tell us so."

The officer takes in their words before slowly turning to Jack. "Son. Your mother says you build models for a hobby. How many do you have?"

Jack chokes on his own cowardice. His father however takes the liberty of digging his grave for him.

"Jack builds those things all day…he must have dozens of them in the basement. I wouldn't know the number…my wife and I are often off on business you see. Never had the time."

"You've never ever seen any?" The officer asks. "Has Jack ever brought anything to you?" His parent shake their heads.

"He did when he was younger." Jack's mother adds. "He'd come to me with this and show me that…odd little do-hickeys and gizmos. Nice little drawings and such, the typical for children his age. Nowadays he does show me his papers…all A's naturally. We have told you how bright he is."

"All A's, huh? In every subject?"

"He has a particular taste for math and science. He does very well in English…doesn't care at all for his history but what boy does? Hm, he does take a liking to astrology, greek myths and Chinese this and tha…" Jack's mother stands up suddenly and hushes her husbands ongoing jabber.

"Please, Miss Spicer. May I see the basement where your son builds his models again?"

"Again!?" Jack cries, his eyes growing wide in horror.

"Yes, Jack. I want you to tell me about your little models."

"If you'd like. You may take another look." Jack's mother offers, her petite feet heading for the basement. "But I'll stay up top…I'm terrified of the dark!"

The officer notices Jack begin to sweat and shake. The small teen twiddles his thumbs and gnaws at his nails like his life depends upon it.

"Jack. Is there something down there you don't want us to see?" The officer asks calmly.

"N-No…" Jack's eyes dart back and forth. "There's no need to go down there, there's nothing really!" Jack pleads leaping to the officers feet and clinging to him. "If you've seen it once, it would bore you anyhow!"

"Son! Get up, your embarrassing yourself!"

"Don't go down there! Where's your search warrant? I want to see your graduating papers!"

Escorted, Jack is led to the basement door. They go to open it, but Jack throws another fit. He kicks and screams and squeals but is easily restrained. The door is slowly opened and the officer slowly walks inside.

There is a rocket, a tank, a submarine, maps, robots, shelves, glasses, plates, broken walls…staircases leading to deeper parts of the lair. A first aid kit with bandages thrown around it.

Slowly the officer walks up to one of Jack's robots, broken on a bench.

"It's a model! Just a model! Don't touch it!" Jack pleads his body half way in the basement.

"Oh is it now?"

The officer slowly touches the bot and the motion turns it on. The eyes glow red and it speaks, asking for its master and if it will be okay.

"I found this little guy here earlier. I took a look at his awkward configuration. Bit eccentric for a mere model boy. I'm afraid your under arrest for being a danger to society."

"A danger? You think I'm dangerous? That's so cool!" Jack cheers, leaping into the air with his arms outstretched for a moment. His mood changes as he is grabbed and cuffs are forced on his thin wrists. He begins to panic.

"No! Let me go! Let me go! I don't want to go! Mom! Dad! These people are crazy! I haven't done anything!" He cries, tears pouring down his face. "Help me!"

"Sorry son. There's no crying your way out of this. We have to place you under arrest…" the officer sternly mutters as he writes in his report from the top of the stairs.

Jack's mother stands just outside the door and holds out her hand to the officer. "Wait! You can't just take him! You have no proof…those things down there are models. We've told you he spends all his time in that basement…he's our only son."

"Maim. This boy, God only knows how has managed to cause severe damage all over the planet. His mind is a serious threat to society. " Jack cannot help but smirk. "If there is any legitimate proof you have that he did not in fact build those…"

He stops as a scene he never would have imagined happen, happens. Two boys, both identical to the one in custody; one completely identical and the other dressed in neat nick clothes from the fifties are approaching.

"What the…Hell is going on here!? How many kids do you have like this one lady!?"

…

Jack lifts his head groggily. He must have dozed off.

How all of that could have just happened out of the blue. He had never once thought of getting caught and now he's stuck fending for himself while detectives all over the planet search for him. He and his accomplices had literally at the end of their ropes…and almost ready to sell their souls to bean.

At least…until…

She had found him and hid him. Gave him a small place to stay till perhaps one day they would stop looking. Why she had been so kind…perhaps it was his other self that convinced her to aid the three runaways. He had a way with words and making girls listen when he concentrated hard enough.

Jack shakes his head to wake himself up. Starting up his heli-pack he takes to hovering above the ground so he can make his way to the temple by sunset. He is expected after all and it would be rude to be too late.

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(Chapter Talk): I hope this story intrigues enough people...it is a romance and I promise it will not get anywhere near as angsty as You Got Jacked!