Well, fuck me, where's the time gone? I'm soooo sorry about the long update wait. I just wasn't feeling very inspired to write, and I had college work to do, and an exam that took up a lot of time. But I hope whoever's reading {still} will enjoy it, and bear with me throughout my sporadic updates. :) Which hopefully won't become a yearly thing, hopefully I can finish a few stories this year (well, I should bloody well hope so, I started some three bloody years ago! XD)
In answer to your review, Raven: Yes, I am most certainly continuing with this story, but I'm struggling with inspiration ever since Kickin' it finished and the fandom has just seemed to fade. But I won't leave any of my stories unfinished, and since I don't want to cop out and delete it, I'll just have to trudge through. :) (Also, your review name cracked me up, because at the time I read it, I was actually watching episodes of CBBC's Raven; hah, I have weird humor :P)
So, to the rest of you, read, review and I will see you next time, which hopefully won't be such a long wait. :)
From: Mum
Message: It's all set, honey. Let's hope this helps. I love you.
Regarding the message in confusion, Jerry read it over several times, not knowing what to make of it. The only thing he could think of that Jack needed help with was his stomach virus, but why would that seem like a big deal to both him and his Mum if it would be gone in a few weeks?
Either way, it was too late to dwell on it, and Jerry put Jack's phone back on the table, the blue light dimming and leaving them in darkness as his phone switched off. Jerry didn't know what it was that made him curl up alongside Jack on the sofa, but something was telling him that he shouldn't leave Jack alone.
I'm too tired for this crap, Jerry thought to himself, yawning and rubbing his eyes. He eventually relaxed and let himself be lulled into a dreamless sleep.
He was woken the next morning by the scrumptious smell of his mother's cooking, and sat up to see her bustling around in the kitchen unit behind him. While his stomach registered that he should be getting up, his brain thought he absolutely should still be sleeping, and Jerry laid back down, closing his eyes again.
That was until he felt something strange rubbing against his face.
His curiosity won over and he opened his eyes to see a foot on his cheek.
"What the–"
Then it registered there was a foot on his face.
"Ah!" He scrambled back in shock, getting tangled up in blankets and pillows, while he could see Jack sniggering and pulling his foot away, sitting up properly and greeting the morning with a loud yawn.
"Sleep all right, boys?" Mrs. Martinez asked from behind them; Jerry was still recovering from the surprise sock-attack to answer.
"Yeah," Jack said with a smile, "and thanks for the blankets, Mrs. Martinez," he added gratefully as he removed himself from under it.
"Jack, I've told you a thousand times, call me 'Katherine'," she responded in a soft, slightly reprimanding, tone.
Jack smiled at her, then he noticed his phone across from him on the coffee table, and picked it up. He opened up the message and Jerry's gut churned – he hoped Jack couldn't tell he had read it – although his didn't seem to be the only one. Jack was staring at the message and chewing on his lower lip until it bled.
"Carlos didn't wake you up leaving for work, did he?" Mrs. Martinez asked, thankfully distracting Jack from the message.
"He's already gone?" Jerry said in confusion, looking around. He hadn't heard the door open this morning.
Mrs. Martinez chuckled: "I'll take that as a 'no'," she guessed with a hint of a smile, "I'll be back in a minute, keep an eye on the breakfast, Jerry," she said to him.
"Sure, Mum," Jerry nodded.
"Jack, are you staying for some?" she asked, although Jerry could tell she wasn't really asking, and would probably lock Jack in the house until he ate something before he left for school.
But Jack didn't seem to notice: "Sure, I'd love to," he smiled and Mrs. Martinez nodded, "Not every day I get omelets for breakfast," he added as an afterthought, Jerry smiling at him.
Mrs. Martinez walked off down the hallway and Jerry was about to get up, when his eyes narrowed on something he spotted on Jack's blanket.
And he noticed him staring. "What?"
But Jerry didn't respond right away; he leaned forwards and plucked it up, realising as he held it up to the light that it was Jack's hair, Jack's eyes widening in horror as he recognized it as well.
"Is that your hair?" Jerry asked with a surprised laugh, although Jack didn't seem to find it as funny.
"Shit..." he swore bluntly, licking his lips nervously.
Jerry honestly couldn't see the big deal; his hair fell out all the time too.
"Calm down, you can barely tell," he told him as Jack started to check for evidence of more hair falling out, "You still look handsome," he said, reaching out to grab Jack's hand and divert his attention away from the obsessive hair-checking.
"Thanks," Jack said in relief, although it sounded forced, with an awkward smile to boot, "Sure you can't tell?" he asked, flattening his hair self-consciously.
"Only if I stare at the back of your head for too long with a magnifying glass," Jerry answered truthfully, Jack smiling – genuinely this time – in relief. "It was only a few strands, I swear," he added as a consolation.
"Let's get the breakfast before your hair problems cause us to burn it, shall we?" he joked, Jack laughing – subsequently breaking into another coughing fit – and following him to the kitchen.
They were both greeted with the warm smell of omelets and pancakes cooking, a substantial amount already on plates on the counter while several more were cooking. While the amount was contemporary for Jerry, it seemed daunting to Jack, who quipped,
"She does realise she usually only has one son to feed, right?"
"One son with needs!" Jerry responded, his affronted stare quickly changing to laughter when Jack shot him down with a quick-fire, "Yeah, needs of an army."
The laughter dissolved and Jack picked up a spatula, turning the two omelets over. Jerry eyed the pancakes with a wicked grin, nudging Jack in the side conspiratorially.
"Hey" – Jack turned towards him – "Bet I can flip a pancake?" he said, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Just let me know when you'll try so I can take cover," Jack said in warning, already looking around for a suitable place to hide.
Jerry's eyes narrowed. "Oi!" he said, while Jack grinned, "I think I've got it this time," he said, making to pick up the pan.
"You said that the last time," Jack said in response, putting the finished omelets onto the pile on the place, while Jerry shuddered. They didn't speak of the last time.
Either way, Jerry was determined to prove Jack wrong. Grabbing the pan, he tossed it up in the air, the pancake coming loose and flipping over several times in mid-air. It landed back in the pan and both Jack and Jerry cheered.
"Not making a mess, I hope, boys?" Mrs. Martinez called to them as she came back into the main room, walking back over to them.
"When have I ever made a mess?" Jerry asked incredulously, putting the pancake onto the plate and switching everything off.
"Every time you try and put something in the oven," she shot back, Jack snorting with laughter and promptly getting a playful punch in the arm.
The three of them then set up the breakfast bar behind them. Jack and Jerry both sat down whilst Mrs. Martinez laid down plates for the two of them, and one for herself.
Despite Jack's protest, she insisted on giving him a generous helping of both omelets and pancakes, while both she and Jerry just settled with omelets.
"Thanks, Katherine," Jack said, smiling at her gratefully and chuckling in bewilderment as he tried to make room for everything on his plate.
"No problem, honey," Mrs. Martinez said, handing around cutlery, "You look like you could use it," she added, briefly looking Jack up and down.
Jack smiled as he reached for the sugar – Jerry noticing it didn't quite reach his eyes – sprinkling a gargantuan amount onto his pancake until it looked like a fresh layer of snow.
"How can you put that much crap on it?" Jerry asked with widened eyes as Jack began to wrap it up like a burrito, "It'll kill you," he added seriously.
Jack just raised his eyebrow, staring down at Jerry's own omelets, which he had covered in barbeque sauce, and was already a large hunk of meat and pastry. Jerry took an emphatic bite, Jack fondly rolling his eyes.
"You boys need a ride to school today?" Mrs. Martinez asked as she made a start on her own breakfast.
"Nah, we can walk it," Jerry said, waving her off, "Jack's gonna need to burn off all that sugar," he joked playfully, elbowing Jack in the side.
"I actually burn it off in Karate," he retorted with a mouthful of omelets. Then he swallowed, "What's your excuse?" he asked cheekily, poking at his sides.
"Excuse you," he shot back.
Jack chuckled and returned to his omelets.
"So, Jack, how's your mother doing?" Mrs. Martinez asked in concern.
"She's doing all right," Jack said with a thoughtful smile, "She's getting better," he said, although he seemed to be holding something back.
Jerry was lost. Since when was there anything wrong with Jack's mother? "She ill?" he asked, his mouth full.
"No," Jack said with a shake of his head, "I lost my Dad about a year before I moved here; it's been rough for her," he said with a heavy sigh.
That explains why I've never seen him, Jerry thought to himself. But how come Jack never told him? Or Kim or Milton? It must have been a too touchy subject for him to mention.
"What about you?" Jerry asked, his breakfast forgotten for the moment.
"I've been doing okay, I guess," Jack said with a shrug, looking at him aimlessly and bringing himself to smile.
Jerry reached out an arm and wrapped it around Jack's shoulders, hugging him to his side for a moment. When he released him, he decided he needed to change the subject, and fast. The mood had gotten way too depressing in here.
"Don't you have work today, Mum?" Jerry asked her, returning to his food.
"I'm not in till later," she said with a smile, "I was gonna go visit my friend Julie, she's got a bad stomach bug, and I have lasagna from last night to spare so I thought I'd bring it over," she explained, shrugging slightly.
"Oh," he said with a slow nod, "Jack's got it too," he added.
Jack speared a large chunk of omelet onto his fork. "Hopefully not for much longer," he said, "This sore throat's a pain in the ass," he stated plainly, popping the omelet chunk in his mouth.
Eventually the two of them finished their breakfast – with Mrs. Martinez wrapping the leftovers for them to eat later – and Jack and Jerry headed off to school, their first lesson of Shop class passing by almost uneventfully, but the breeze ground to a halt as they entered their second lesson. To say Math as a lesson before lunch was an absolute drag wouldn't even cover it.
The teacher, Mr. Hattrick, had given up on teaching them how to multiply fractions a solid twenty minutes ago, and had begun grilling them all on the importance of Math and their lack of interest in anything that wasn't throwing paper airplanes at each other. As boring as everyone found it, no-one dared say a word.
"Do you all not want to learn?!" he was asking emphatically as he paced up and down the front of the classroom, looking at their blank face. "Do you not want to ever amount to anything in life? Math is one of the fundamentals of our society; most of it would not function without it! Much like any of you if you do not start–"
The bell rang, signaling the end of the lesson, and effectively stopping Mr. Hattrick's rant, and the class erupted into an almighty cheer that rivalled that of fans at a soccer pitch.
"All right, all right!" Mr. Hattrick called over the cheering and whistling, the latter eventually simmering down, "Make sure your homework assignments are on my desk by tomorrow, no exceptions," he said, the last words punctuated with an eagle-eyed stare aimed towards the back row – which happened to include Jack and Kim, who shifted uncomfortably.
As soon as everyone was outside, Jack responded with a less than favorable joke of, "Man, could that guy be any more of a dick?" causing Kim and Jerry to snigger.
Milton looked affronted. "Jack!" he said incredulously.
"Well..." he trailed off knowingly, pushing open the double door to the cafeteria.
The four of them walked up to the food counter, Jerry noticing Milton paling considerably as he muttered, "Oh no..."
Jerry turned to see the source of his worry - The Black Dragons.
"We'll be fine, just ignore them," Kim said with a dismissive shrug, paying them as little attention as she could, although it was hard because of all the noise they were making.
"Besides, they're not stupid enough to do anything with a teacher here," Jerry said confidently, although with the Black Dragons' stupidity, he would never know.
"They were last time," Jack pointed out, with Jerry nodding in agreement, remembering Jack would know all about that, "And it was only Marge," he added, the others chuckling.
"Hey!" a familiar, affronted, voice said from behind them. They turned to see Marge stood behind the food counter.
Jack smiled at her. "Sorry," he apologized.
But Marge laughed it off. "I'm only playing," she said, "Got some good stuff in today, what would you kids like?" she asked.
"Hotdog with ketchup and hash browns," Jerry said with a smile.
"Double-cheese burger with bacon and fries," Jack said.
Kim looked thoughtful, for a moment, before she said, "Meatball sandwich."
And Milton finished with, "Salad with sour cream," and the four of them handed over their trays.
"Well, we can certainly tell who's been paying too much attention to Mr. Slawter's crap about too much food rotting you from the inside," Kim teased, playfully poking Milton in the sides.
"Here you go, guys," Marge said once their trays had been filled.
They took them, saying, "Thanks!" in unison.
They turned around to find a table, and as Jack turned to grab a ketchup packet, Jerry caught sight of how much Marge had actually put on Jack's plate, and his eyes widened in surprise.
"Christ, Jack are you eating for two or something?" he added playfully.
Jack smiled. "Nah, I'm just starving."
"Yet yesterday you couldn't finish a teeny piece of Red Velvet cake," Kim pointed out, raising her eyebrows.
"I'm a mystery," Jack shot back, giving her a sly smirk that she laughed at.
They found a table and sat down, making a start on their food. Jerry heard Milton cringe and turned to see a large trail of ketchup dripping down Jack's chin like bloody vomit.
Jack noticed him staring. "What?"
"You got a bit..." Milton trailed off and motioned towards his own chin.
Jack's eyes narrowed in confusion, then he realized. "Oh."
Kim rolled her eyes with a smile, handing him a napkin.
"Thanks," he said, and proceeded to wipe his mouth clean.
Jerry laughed as he then went about putting more ketchup onto his burger, and laying a bed of fries onto the patty. It was a somewhat fresh juxtaposition to yesterday when he barely ate anything.
"How can you even open your mouth that wide?" Kim asked in surprise through her mouthful, as Jack took a large bite.
"I'll let you in on a secret," he said as he swallowed, looking around to see if anyone would be listening, the others playing along and leaning in towards him, "I'm part snake," he said mysteriously, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Where's Harry Potter when you need him?" Jerry wondered out loud, both him and Jack bursting into a fit of laughter – that had Jerry feeling slightly guilty as Jack broke into a loud coughing fit.
"I'd be careful guys, too much red meat can clog your arteries and increase your risk of cardiac arrest," Milton warned them as Jack stopped coughing, while Jerry thought he should be grateful that Marge knew what the food was for once.
"See this is why we never take you to Circus Burger," Kim pointed out, "You always tell us that every time we order a hot dog or something," she said, Jack and Jerry nodding in agreement.
"You even did it when I had a chicken burger that one time," Jack pitched in incredulously.
"Well ex-cu-se me for worrying about my heart!" Milton said in response.
Kim gave him a look of disbelief. "You're sixteen," she said plainly, "Live a little," she encouraged him, Jerry seeing Jack swallow slightly when she said that, although he couldn't put it down to whether he was swallowing because he was still eating, or because he was uncomfortable.
Shrugging it off, he returned to his food... or he tried to, but a harsh, hard slap to the back of his head interrupted him. He turned at the sound of raucous laughter, and surprise, surprise. Frank was the culprit.
"Hey!" he said in exasperation as Frank made to just walk past him, frowning in annoyance.
Jack turned around and narrowed his eyes. "Dude..." he trailed off in warning, shaking his head with a dangerous glint in them.
"Sorry, my hand slipped," Frank said innocently, the latter holding about as much merit as a drunken man's claims that his mother was a giraffe.
"Yeah, course it did," Jack said dryly with a fake smile, "And you also happen to eat shit because your mother can't afford dog food to feed you," he added, Frank's eyes narrowing.
"What did you just say?" he demanded, folding his arms.
"You heard me," Jack said plainly, shrugging.
He then got up and turned around, looking Frank dead in the eye. "Look, Frank, I'm actually enjoying this food today, so I'd rather not throw it in your face," he said, his tone bordering on a threat, "So if I were you, I would just walk away now," he advised.
"Or what?" Frank asked petulantly, the Dragon's on either side of him sizing Jack up.
"Or I'll knock you, and your friends, flat on your ass," Jack said simply, "I did last time, didn't I?" he pointed out with a shrug.
While the other two Dragon's deflated noticeably, Frank's expression turned sour and he leaned into Jack's personal space, Jack not moving a muscle. "This isn't over," he said lowly.
He then stepped back and looked at the other Dragon's. "C'mon guys, let's go shove nerds into their lockers," he said, the three of them leaving in a rush of air, their laughter echoing into the hallway.
Jack rolled his eyes and sat back down, noticing everyone staring open-mouthed at him.
"What?"
Kim was the first to speak: "Nothing, we've just never heard you–"
"Swear?" Jack finished for her, "It got 'em to go away, didn't it?" he said knowingly.
"They're probably just trying to psyche us out for the tournament," Milton offered, "They know they don't stand a chance against us," he said, looking between Jack and Kim.
Kim looked unconvinced. "I wouldn't be so sure," she said in warning, "When Ty isn't cheating his way through things or crying, he is actually a pretty good Sensei," she admitted shamelessly, "I did get a black belt under him, remember?" she said in remembrance.
"Psssh, as if Jack would let them win," Jerry said confidently, swinging an arm around him.
The four of them turned back to their food, and finished it as the bell rang for next lesson. Kim headed off to English Literature and Milton headed off to Physics, and Jack and Jerry headed to the Gym, Jerry dreading it more than when his cousin Pepito came to stay.
It was Dodgeball day.
And he especially hated it when he was in the middle of a game – his team winning by several people out on the opposing team – and a ball came slicing through the air and smacked him on the head, taking him out of the game.
"Ow!" he cried as the ball bounced off his head, one of his teammates, Damien, catching it before it could hit the ground and returned fire as Mr. Burton sharply blew his whistle.
"You're supposed to dodge the ball, Mr. Martinez!" he yelled at him as Jerry took himself out of the firing zone without a word of hesitation, "C'mon boys, work harder, I wanna see you sweat!" he yelled, addressing the rest of the class.
Jerry went and sat down, nursing the bump on his head – the only reason the hit had taken him out of the game was because Mr. Burton had decided that the 'waist area only' rule was for pussies – and realized Jack was sat there too.
"Wow, who managed to hit you?" Jerry asked in surprise as he sat beside him.
Jack rolled his eyes with a fond smile. "I'm not invincible, Jerry," he said, and as if to further his claim, he erupted into a loud coughing fit.
"Mr. Brewer, cough up your lungs on your own time!" Mr. Burton roared at him from across the room.
"Dick," Jack muttered harshly in response.
He then shook it off and they both turned their attention to the game, both Damien and Mark eventually joining them on the bench – although Damien was back in pretty quickly – as well as several others, putting their team's number down to five against seven, plus Damien when he had gone back in. Luckily he had caught the ball before it could hit him, the opposing team groaning.
"C'mon, Jack, you're up!" he called to him, beckoning him over. Jerry patted Jack on the back as he went to rejoin the game.
Jack's phone suddenly rang loudly, and Jerry darted over to it – answering it to silence it – before Mr. Burton could hear it and unleash a world of Hell upon Jack for 'daring' to leave his phone on during class.
It was a voicemail message: "Hello, Jack this is Doctor Rutger; your Mum said to try your phone if I couldn't reach her and–"
The phone was suddenly snatched from his hand and Jerry yelped in surprise, whirling around and expecting to find a red-faced Mr. Burton, but he was relieved to find it was only Jack.
"Sorry!" he apologized quickly as Jack muted the message, "It was just so Mr. Burton wouldn't hear it," he said defensively.
Jack smiled at him. "It's fine," he said reassuringly.
He put the phone to his ear and listened to the message for himself, his face becoming a sour mask of contempt. That puzzled Jerry a little; if it was about an appointment to get medicine for his stomach virus, why did he seem so pissed off about it?
"Aren't you gonna call them back?" Jerry asked in confusion as Jack switched his phone off completely.
"Not even if it would save my life," Jack responded with a heavy sigh, Jerry's attempt at a response being interrupted by the harsh shriek of Mr. Burton's whistle.
"Right!" he called to the silent room, "If you ladies can't stand five minutes of dodgeball, maybe you'll prefer fifty minutes of laps," he shouted, the room breaking into a loud murmur of disagreement.
He blew his whistle over the noise. "Now!"
Everyone reluctantly began pouring out of the room and onto the field. At least it wasn't swelteringly hot, or Artic-style cold.
Jack was among one of the few who didn't seem to mind, and sped off ahead alongside Damien and Mark. Jerry jogged over to two students who were wearing leather jackets on top of their P.E kits. Funny, he thought there were more of them.
"Yo, Burton's off his rocker," he said to them out of the corner of his mouth, glancing at Mr. Burton as he finally joined them out on the field, the red-haired one nodding in agreement.
"You say that like it's somethin' new," the other one snapped, pausing briefly to fiddle with an earring in his ear.
Jerry then raised an eyebrow in bewilderment at their choice of clothing. "How you two can run in leather, I don't wanna know."
"We're not runnin'," the red-haired one pointed out, "We're takin' a leisurely stroll, and if Burton's got a problem, he can cram that whistle up his ass," he added with a perky smile, Jerry laughing and racing off to join Jack, who was in the process of lapping him.
When he reached him, he saw Jack slowing down and coughing violently. He looked exceptionally white and there were beads of sweat glistening off his forehead, his fringe sticking there.
"Whoa, Jack!" he cried, putting a hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to stop for a moment and catch his breath, "You okay, dude?" he asked in concern.
Jack wiped away the sweat with the back of his hand. "Yeah, I should be," he said with a nod and a faint smile.
Both of them started running again, and it got to Jerry's fourth lap – Jack's fifth – before he realized something was wrong; Jack was slowing down more and more, and soon Jerry lost sight of him from how far behind he was.
When he caught up to him on the latest lap, he was forced to watch in horror as Jack's eyelids fluttered and he collapsed on the ground, unmoving.
"Jack!"
