Forget

By: CrystallicSky

Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown, or any of the characters in it, nor do I make any claim to.

Warning(s): ...I really don't think there's anything. It's friendly for mostly ALL ages! Le GASP! :O

Notes: So, I'm going to classify this as a birthday gift for Silvarbelle, despite the fact that it's not really chack for this reason: it was exactly midnight on July 18th when this plot-bunny hit me (meaning it had just turned July 19th), and seeing as that's her birthday, I take it as a sign of some sort. I'm sure it's not the exact time or anything, 'cause that'd be too weird, but I still consider it an omen to dedicate it to such a purpose. I can only hope it is enjoyed by her, or if not her, then really anyone else who may read it.

Chase had known the very minute Jack Spicer had fallen out of power.

It was obvious, as there was no way that after holding him and the rest of the Heylin prisoner for so long that they would just suddenly be released. It was an intentional decision to do so, a gesture that meant the World Ruler had resigned.

Hannibal and Wuya, having come to fear Jack in their own small way, had taken the chance to escape, fleeing as far away as they could possibly get.

Chase, however, was a different story.

He wanted, no, needed revenge for the indignity done to his person, for being made a captive to such a worthless idiot, and so at the very first opportunity, he'd gone off looking for the aged tyrant.

As he followed the man's distinct scent through what had been his palace (and he fully intended to make that a reality once more as soon as possible), thoughts raced through his head about how he would enact his vengeance, thoughts of blood and pain and torture inflicted upon his tormentor, all questions he might have had about just why he'd been released taking backstage to the far more urgent matters at hand.

Upon finding the room that Spicer surely lay within and throwing open the door, however, he was suddenly thrown into a revelation that robbed him of all violent thoughts, able to do nothing but stare openly at the body lain prone on a black-sheeted mattress.

Jack Spicer had died.

Before he could even begin to mull this over, Chase's attention was pulled to the other side of the room, where a large television screen descended from the ceiling, coming to life with a soft crackle of electricity.

The image displayed on the screen was a much younger version of the albino that had conquered the world, clearly early on in his dictatorship. The man looked to be aged about twenty or so, and he wore a black, button-up shirt and a pair of casual black slacks as he lounged in an easy chair, smirking at the camera.

"Hello, Chase," the image spoke, "if you're seeing this, then I'm dead as a doorknob, as that's the way I planned it. Now, I'm sure you're wondering a lot of things, like: what do you mean 'planned it'? and 'how do you know I'm even watching this'?"

The man twitched a bit, as those had been his exact thoughts. Nevertheless, the recorded Jack continued to speak.

"Well, let me begin by pointing out the obvious, that this was long prerecorded, as you can no doubt tell by my youthful appearance." At this point, the albino gave his slightly lengthened hair a flip, grinning seductively to emphasize this point and causing Chase to sneer; leave it to Jack to be an arrogant snotmuffin when filming something that should have been solemn. "Anyways, that's beside the point. You see, since the moment I took over and you refused to rule by my side, I decided a punishment was in order, and I know you always thought that punishment was imprisonment. Well, nope, you were dead wrong; heh, get it? Dead?" Chase snorted at the immature attempt at a joke, and simply watched as Jack resumed speaking. "Regardless, you should have known that I'm capable of better punishments than that, and I'm going to explain to you exactly what that entails."

"From the get-go, I knew I'd never figure out eternal life; I'm a genius, but that shit's hard without magic, not that you'd know Mr. Dragon-Man. But, no, I knew I'd grow old and die sooner or later, and I planned it perfectly. When I died, I gave the order to release you and Wuya and Hannibal. I knew they wouldn't care why they'd been freed and would just leave, which I assume they have. But you, Chase, no, that isn't good enough for you. You'd need to know why, or if not why, then you'd want revenge, and since this would only be playing if a living being had entered my room, it's obvious that you came for one of those reasons, knowing you, revenge."

Chase had to admit that the young man's logic was spot on.

"And now here's where the punishment part comes in, so pay close attention! " Jack admonished with a wink. "As powerful as you are, I caught you, I held you prisoner, I made your life subservient to mine, if only for a brief moment in time." Chase nearly snarled aloud at these boasting words, forgetting that the tyrant couldn't hear him now and never would again, but held himself back.

The next statement made him freeze, his blood running cold in his veins.

"You'll remember forever that for no matter how short an expanse in comparison to your life, you were mine…and now that I'm dead, you'll never get the vengeance you crave..."

Golden eyes went wide at these words, heart beat escalating, even as Jack wickedly cackled, "So, there's my immortality, eh?"

The television screen went black, but Chase paid it no mind.

There were no thoughts, only feelings running through him at the moment.

RAGE

FURY

VENOM

VEHEMENCE

ANGER

WRATH

...,...

treachery

weakness

disadvantage

limitation

helplessness

loss

Yes, he had lost.

After all that had been done to him, Chase Young had lost to Jack Spicer, and even though the albino was the one who was dead, Chase knew that he had been the one who was the ultimate winner, for everything he had said was one hundred percent correct.

He had been denied revenge. He had belonged to Jack. He had been held against his will.

And he would never forget.

Golden eyes glanced at the cold, dead corpse on the bed, the deceased flesh already beginning to decay and the scent becoming only a reminder of Jack Spicer's final triumph, a sort of proof that he had achieved immortality through the eternal, unsatisfied rage of a true immortal.

Chase could do nothing but scream wordlessly in fury and hate at the true genius of the dead man's mind, the mind which had condemned him to a perpetuity of knowing that he could never get even, and that he could never forget…

A/N: In case it isn't obvious, this is set in the 'Jack conquered the world' universe caused by Omi's time-traveling antics, but it's different in that Omi never showed up again to mess with stuff. Let's say he died. Or really, let's just say anything happened to get him out of the way.

Regardless, thanks for reading, and I hope you liked this drabble! :D