A/N: Don't you just hate it when you have a plotline for a story pop into your head? I was shooting a bow when I thought of this... I know, I know, I should update other stories, but this won't quit nagging at me. Stupid plotline... Anyway, this may be a little confusing, but this story has nothing to do with Shen Gong Wu or the abilities the main characters in the show had. This takes place in California later on (my favorite place even though I haven't been there...yet). I know other people have written about things like this, but I want to give it a try. If you have read any of my other stories, you will know what kind of surprises I can pull out of my sleeve... Enjoy, oh and please review, it gets me motivated!

(Rio)

*Raimundo * (Age Eleven)

My life was what most kids would wish or pray for before they went to bed each night. I had a lot of siblings, my mother and father were happily married, and I had many friends. Living in Rio, most of the people knew each other, so it wasn't that hard to get along with people. I went to school and was pulling good grades; I planned on earning enough money to go to college after I graduated high school. These were my childhood plans; the plans most children have when they're young. However, mine was reasonable. I wasn't going to be an astronaut, a soldier, or even a rich person, but I wanted to make it through my life happy and live like there was no tomorrow. These were my plans until my whole world fell apart.

I walked home from school one day, holding a piece of paper in my hand, a note from my teacher, Mrs. Anderson, praising me for my hard work. When I arrived at my house, I noticed something was wrong. Police cars were parked just outside the yard, on the street, but no lights was flashing. Even though I was smart at the time, my eleven year old brain couldn't define the word coroner. I ran to the house, but a policeman held me back. I watched as they wheeled a body bag through the front door on a gurnery. My heart dropped into my stomach, because I was old enough to know somebody just died in my house. I asked the police officer where my mother, father, and siblings were, but the man didn't answer. I watched the house for a few minutes, but it felt like hours, then my father walked through the front door. He had a look of sheer agony on his face and I ran up to him, managing to escape from the man's grasp. "What's going on?" I asked as I clutched my father's shirt in one hand. "What happened?"

He crouched down until he was eye level with me, "Son. Mommy is leaving us."

I still didn't comprehend it, my brain didn't want to. "When is she coming home?"

A fresh tear dripped from his face, "She's never coming home."

I was too shocked to cry, even though I knew my mother was gone. Even though I knew it was her body I saw in the bag, I didn't want to believe it. It began to rain and I didn't even feel the teacher's note leave my hand, the wind carrying it into a puddle. To me, the rain signified to loss we felt that day, the loss we had experianced. I only shed a few tears, but, eventually, a wall made it's way into my heart, preventing all of my emotions from being felt by my heart. When I eavesdropped on the detectives, I learned my mother had been murdered for an unknown reason; the trail was cold. My life ended right there. I thought, maybe, if the killer was caught, I would be able to avenge my mother; it didn't happen. The whole family was devastated, even me, but I done my best to take care of my siblings while father grieved.

A few months after mother's homicide, my father started to drink. He never swallowed alcohol in the past, but he wanted to drink away his sorrows. Eventually, he became a serious, violent alcoholic. When he would get mad, frustrated, or even confused, one of his sons' would take multiple hits from his fists. I tried to defend my siblings when I could, but most of them were never home. I wanted to support my father and try to get him away from the bottle of poison, so I never left. Eight months after my mothers murder, the unimaginable happened to me. All of my siblings were at their friends' house, but I still stayed with father; he was the only parent I had. The money began to decrease after father lost his job, whatever money he received was spent on some of the strongest alcoholic beverages. One night, father came in with a few other men, probably no older than seventeen. Father grabbed me by my shirt collar and held me out to the men.

One of the men, probably the leader, stated, "We don't need children."

"You can train him, he can be just like you." My father said with a wild look in his eyes. "I can't pay you with money, so I'm going to give my son to you."

I looked up at my father, "What do you mean? I want to stay here!"

He backhanded me in the face, "Shut up, brat!" Then, he turned to the men. "Do whatever you want with him. Make him fight, sell drugs, anything to get him out of my sight!"

The leader stared at me for a moment, then nodded his head at one of his friends, "Grab him." One of the men stepped toward me and grabbed me by the back of my neck. Relying on instinct, I swung my fist, hitting him in the stomach, which only made the men laugh. "He has fighting spirit, we'll take him, but if he dies, it's not my fault."

"Like I said, do whatever you want with him as long as he's out of my sight."My father replied. In that moment, I felt betrayed. The only parent figure in my life gave me to some men I didn't even know. They walked through my front door and shoved me into the backseat of a vehicle. I was able to look at my house one more time before I was sped away.

Tears of betrayal and fear slipped down my face; one of the men smacked me in the back of the head. "Listen, kid. In this gang, there are no tears. You're a nobody just like everyone else in this world other than Boss, you hear?"

I was too afraid to move and was smacked again before I finally nodded my head. The rest of the ride was long, uneventful, and terrifying, for me at least, but I couldn't help but wonder what I done to deserve this. Why did my father give me up?

(Three Years Later)

~Los Angeles, California~

*Clay*

Every city is known for gang violence. Sure, I was a high ranking member in the gang I ran with, but we weren't violent or thugs. We just protected ourselves and certain stores from other gangs. There were low ranking gangs along with the high ranking, but we met somewhere in the middle. There was seven of us: me, Omi, Kimiko, Jermaine, Chloe, Danny, and Sandra. It simply started out as a group of friends being in the wrong place at the wrong time. We saw people being jumped or mugged by other gangs and we intervened. Eventually, it became an addiction. The difference between us and most gangs, we had a set of rules to abide by. We didn't carry weapons or try to maim or kill other people in fights; we didn't fight to kill, just to defend.

One day we were, again, at the wrong place at the wrong time. A large gang entered the store where we were and threated the cashier for the cash in the drawer. Everybody knew this gang, the LAD (short for the Spanish version of The Ruthless Murderers). They were named in Spanish because that was where most of their members came from. Even though they knew English, they mostly spoke in Spanish. However, they were using English this time.

"Give us the money. I know the police are already on their way, but one of my men have just went into the manager's office and retrieved the tapes your cameras are recording into. We'll be out of here as soon as you give us the money. If you don't do what I say, a lot of people will get hurt. Do you understand?" The leader of LAD demanded to the young girl, and I knew it was time for my gang and I to jump in.

"Get out of here, now." Danny, our gang leader, said. Even though Danny was only seventeen, he acted older.

The man looked at him, "Don't interfere. I've heard of your gang before and you're not going to stop us. Nobody can."

"Just get out of here and never come back." Danny replied, a threatening tone in his voice.

The man finally snapped. In a heartbeat, Danny was pinned against the wall with a knife held to his throat. "If anybody moves, he's dead. Pedro, get the money." The other member demanded the cashier for the money, a knife held in front of her. "Don't be messy with it, Pedro. You can't leave you fingerprints anywhere." The man nodded in understanding. In this moment, I lunged at the leader of the rival gang while Jermaine and Omi attacked Pedro. I punched the leader in the face, but he recovered immediately and returned the punch. I was aware he still had a knife, but I continued fighting. A second later, Danny was by my side fighting as well. A few seconds later, a heard a cry of fear and pain. All the fighting stopped and I saw an enemy gang member holding a small child, a knife digging into the child's arm. "Excellent thinking, Marcus."

Marcus nodded, "Let us get out of here with the money and I won't kill this kid."

We weren't in the position to do anything, so we just stood there. However, a second later a punch from behind sent Marcus to the floor. I tried to identify the attacker, but he had his back to me. The attacker stood between the child and Marcus in a fighting stance, as if threatening his fellow gang member to continue. "What do you think you're doing, Raimundo?" Marcus yelled.

"I don't agree with you using a child as a hostage." He turned to his leader, "Were you really going to kill them for money?"

The leader sighed, "Raimundo, you've been in this gang long enough. You should know how we work. Yes I would have killed for the money, I don't care who it is. I know this is new to you and we haven't killed anyone since you became a member, but this is what we do."

"I don't agree with it." Raimundo stated.

"I don't care if you agree with it or not! Just don't get in the f***ing way!" The leader bellowed and walked over to Raimundo, grabbed him by the shirt collar, and slung him into the wall a few feet away. I could hear the breath be knocked out from the boy's lungs and he slumped to the floor, holding his chest. However, this gave the child a chance to return to his mother. The leader walked over to his comrade and picked him up by his neck, slamming him into the wall with every word. "Don't. You. Dare. Defy. My. Orders. Again." He punched the boy in the face before letting go. "When you feel strong enough, you can come back home." The leader walked over to the cashier, who had the money ready, and the whole gang left with the money. All except one. The boy was just rising to his feet and I walked over to him, cautious, but wanting to help.

"You okay?" I asked.

Raimundo glared at me, "Why do you care?"

I shrugged, "I don't know." Then, I held out my hand to help him to his feet.

He smacked my hand away, "I don't need your help! Just leave me alone." Raimundo finally got to his feet, but leaned against the wall painfully. He clenched his jaw and pushed away from the wall, managing to stay balanced. "Do me a favor, see if the kid is alright. I have to get out of here or I'll be arrested for being guilt by association."

"Okay." I said and the boy left. Why is he apart of that gang? He doesn't seem to be like them. He just protected that child... Is he being forced into that gang?