In the episode The Deep Freeze, Jack calls himself neutral. Obviously, he didn't mean it. -grins mysteriously- At the time.

Chapter VI - Neutral

Soundtrack / Inspiration:

Satellite - B.T.
Loser - 3 Doors Down
Scar Tissue - Red Hot Chili Peppers

Still smells of the sun
and the light that brings healing
is burning my eyes
and the dark seems so nice
and I'm choking on blessings that I can receive
I hide

Satellite - B.T.

"Wait here while I go find the first aid kit."

Her hands were lithe and comforting as she took him by the elbows and guided him to sit down on the toilet (only after making sure the seat was down first, of course). She left him there to begin her search, and as she looked, she idly wondered if his greatest fear was still being flushed. The memory brought a small, devious smile to her lips.

Until she caught sight of the red stains on her fingers.

So not the time or place, Kimiko.

She wasn't smiling by the time she returned, first aid kit and a small stool in hand. He looked up as she reentered, and Kimiko pretended not to notice his eyes watching her as she set the stool and kit down in front of him. She then proceeded to wash her hands, and beckoned him to do the same. He complied, albeit a bit sluggishly. The soap and water were dyed dark red from all the dried blood on his skin; at least the bleeding had slowed. He didn't even bother to dry his hands as he sat back down, and Kimiko followed suit.

Slipping into the role of nurse was easy. She'd played a similar part many times in the past, having lived with three very destructive boys for three long years. First aid skills were a plus, and often called for after a fight with the latest Heylin threat. Omi--being Omi--had once made a comment about how it was her duty as a female to tend to the wounds of her male team mates. As it just so happened, Raimundo was the one to nurse the bruises the small monk received from his well deserved beating for that one. But when all was said and done, she really didn't mind.

Which was probably why it didn't trouble her so much to be in her father's bathroom with Jack Spicer, sitting close enough that their knees were barely touching. This had been her idea, after all.

So she went straight to work, rummaging through the contents of the kit and pulling out the different supplies she thought she may need. Jack looked on silently as she tore open a plastic packet, and almost instantly his nostrils were filled with a sort of antibacterial smell that reminded him of hospitals. She produced something that looked like a baby wipe, and without hesitating, took his injured hand and held it in her lap. If it were any other time, he may have blushed.

When she locked eyes with him, his gaze held nothing.

Not even distrust.

"This might sting a little."

That said, she pressed the moist towelett against his skin. He hissed loudly, but didn't pull away. Not that she would have let him if he tried.

They sat that way, silence hovering around them as she tenderly cleansed his wounds of impurities. He flinched under the general discomfort, but he was so entranced by the way she looked--bent over his hand with a sort of concentrated expression on her face--that it didn't hurt quite as much as he thought it would.

He wanted to tell her how no one had ever done anything like this for him before. Ever. He couldn't explain why, but he wanted to let her know just how much it meant to him, too.

He could only think of one way to do that.

"You wanted to know why I don't wear my goggles anymore. . .?"

Kimiko stopped moving as she looked up at him, and not once did she blink.

"Yes."

Neither did he.

"I don't wear them anymore because they remind me of Wuya. And Wuya reminds me of my parents. The rest is history."

"Your. . .parents?"

"Mm."

Kimiko didn't understand how in the world the Heylin witch could possibly remind anyone of their parents, but kept her musings to herself.

Most of them, anyway.

". . .is being reminded of your parents such a bad thing?" she asked quietly.

He shrugged, as if the subject was something to be easily brushed off.

"All depends on how you look at it, I guess."

"And how do you look at it?"

Jack appeared to think about it for a moment. His finger touched his chin, something he often did when he was deep in thought. It was kind of cute.

Kind of.

"Well, whenever I think about my parents, I get sad, so. . .I'd have to say it's a bad thing."

That caught her attention. . .and it was a start. Now, where to go from there. . .?

Kimiko was at a loss. He was finally opening up to her, but how did she keep it that way without making him too uncomfortable? Something told her Jack Spicer was not used to having heart to heart conversations, especially with someone who had been an enemy for so many years, and technically, still was.

"W-why do you get sad?" she ventured unsurely.

That could work.

"Because."

Or not.

Ok. Let's try something else.

". . .Jack. . .where exactly are your parents?"

"They're dead."

Well. That explained a lot.

". . .oh. I see. . ."

Nothing else was said for a long time. Then, in a small voice, Kimiko inquired:

"How did they die?"

He shrugged again.

She wished he'd stop doing that.

"Doesn't really matter. It's done and over with now. I was going to use the Sands of Time to bring them back to life, but since the Shen Gong Wu have all been deactivated for the next 1,500 years, that's no longer an option. Another plan goes to the scrap heap."

They both went silent. Jack, because he had nothing more to say. Kimiko, because she was still digesting his explanation with more than just a little disbelief.

He'd been looking for the Sands of Time, not to attempt resurrecting Chase Young or even Wuya, but to bring his dead parents back to life.

It just couldn't get anymore heartbreaking than that.

Apparently, he disagreed.

"I give up."

Kimiko's brow creased with unsaid angst.

"On what?"

"On everything. I keep trying to delude myself into thinking there's some deeper meaning to what I'm doing with my life, but it's so worthless it's laughable. Even though my parents barely knew I existed, and would never do for me what I was trying to do for them, I still wanted to bring them back, if only for a tiny peace of mind. Because now I have nothing, not even a ghost hag to contend with anymore. And I-"

His rant came to an abrupt stop when she placed a slender finger over his lips. Shocked by the gesture, he looked at her questioningly.

"You lay it on any thicker, Jack, and I just may start bawling my eyes out."

He blinked owlishly, and she removed her finger with a sigh and a weak smile.

"As Omi would say: 'do not despair. Every cloud has a sliver of lining.' Just because things look dismal now, doesn't mean they'll stay that way forever."

A dry chuckle.

"Well I can't think of anything that might happen anywhere at any time that would make life any less bothersome than it is now."

A delicate frown.

"Of course you can't, dummy; no one can predict the future. You have to wait it out and see what happens. That's the part called 'living life'."

He opened his mouth.

"And if you say 'why bother', I'll punch your lights out."

He closed it again.

". . .ok, than I won't. But I'm still thinking it."

Kimiko growled menacingly, yet didn't lash out. Physically.

"Come on, Spicer! Think! You are supposed to be a genius, right? There has to be something other than robots that gets your blood pumping. . .!"

Jack raised a suggestive eyebrow, the corners of his mouth curling up. Immediately, she blushed and looked away.

"Ok, wrong choice of words. What I mean is. . .gah! Jack, help me out here would you!"

"Why would I do that, when it's so amusing to watch you squirm?"

She set her jaw in a stiff line, and the boy genius knew at once to stop. His smirk disappeared, and his gaze fell to the floor.

"What do you want me to say, Kimiko? That I should try being good for a change or something? Been there done that, and if you recall, it didn't quite work out."

"Yes, and as I recall, it didn't work out because you gave up. You tried to reform once, Jack. Can't you try again?"

"Not likely. I gave up for a reason. I knew I'd end up failing not only myself, but the Xiaolin Temple as well."

"There you go again, pretending to predict the future. You can't say for certain what would've happened, and you know it. Omi put a lot of faith in you; he was really hurt when you betrayed us and left."

At this, Jack had the decency to at least appear somewhat guilty.

"If. . .if I had known that chrome-dome believed in me so strongly, I may have stuck with it a little longer, " he mumbled, "but it still wouldn't have changed anything. Don't you get it?"

He stood up then and held out his arms, as if presenting himself for display.

"I'm useless as a Heylin, and as a Xiaolin. And the last time I checked, there's no gray matter in between. I'm not good. I'm not evil. I'm certainly not both. I'm just nothing."

Kimiko closed her eyes, and in a genteel sort of voice, said:

"I believe the word you're looking for is 'neutral'."

Jack started.

"What did you say. . .?"

"Someone who is not on either side of a conflict is neutral. Right?"

". . .I. . .I guess so."

"Than you're not nothing, you're just impartial. That's all."

Kimiko rested her hand on his forearm, guiding him back down to sit. He let her have her way with him, watching in vacuous silence as she reached for a roll of gauze and began wrapping his fingers.

"I never thought of it that way before."

She glanced up at him with a poignant glint in her eyes.

"There's lots of ways you've never thought of before. That's why it's pissing me off listening to you preach about the futility of life, when you've only just begun to scratch it's surface. Just because you've lost all hope doesn't mean you get to give up. I won't let you."

That last remark seemed to perk his attention.

And as if realizing what she just said, she concentrated on her nursing even more.

Please don't say anything, please don't say anything, please don't say anything. . .

"Kimiko?"

Shoot.

"Yes Jack?"

"Why did you help me?"

Kimiko's actions flickered, but did not stop.

"Help you. . .?" she repeated back, as if she were just now realizing that's what she'd done.

Had she really not thought of it that way?

Or was she just as confused as he was?

"You didn't have to tell me the Shen Gong Wu were inactive. You said it yourself--you had no idea what I was planning. For all you knew, I was up to my old tricks again. It would've been a smart thing to let me keep searching, until the day I figured it out or just gave up. Don't you think?"

It made sense.

It made perfect sense, in fact. It was no more than he deserved; they both knew that. He'd only be getting his just reward for all the times he'd leeched off of their mercy (or more accurately, off of Omi's), only to turn around and stab them in the back again and again. He did, too. Every time.

But Kimiko had been battling with her reasons ever since the minute she had spontaneously suggested they go out for ice cream together. And she really, really didn't want to let him in on what her heart was whispering in her ear.

Because I felt sorry for you.

Because I felt a backwards sense of guilt watching you struggle.

Because somehow I knew it was more than just your usual scheming.

Saying these things out loud would only serve to complicate their situation further. That was the last thing she needed right now, yet she had to tell him something. His eyes were starting to drill holes into the top of her head.

"Because. . .I would want the same thing if I were in your position," she finally stated, and that was that.

"There. All done."

Jack pretended he didn't mind when she stood up and moved away from him. Robbed of her closeness, he distracted himself by flexing his fingers, watching the gauze stretch over his knuckles. She'd done a good job. A great job, in fact.

He'd have to say something to her. There was just no getting around it.

As Kimiko finished putting away the rest of the first aid, she looked up into the mirror and jumped slightly to see Jack standing directly behind her. She turned and gazed up at him, unintimidated, even though he loomed high above her. . .but then, he'd always been much taller than her; the only advantage he had as far as she was concerned. And it wasn't much.

"Yes?"

God, he felt so awkward. It reflected in the way he scratched the back of his neck, or how he refused to maintain eye contact.

"Uhh, I'm not too good at this sort of thing. . .but. . .erm. . ."

He stuck out his unbandaged hand. Kimiko blatantly stared at it.

"Thanks," he muttered, and suddenly her fascination shifted from his open palm to his face.

No way.

Jack Spicer is. . .thanking me?

He started fidgeting when she failed to react.

"What? Am I doing it wrong?" he asked after he couldn't take her staring any longer. Then he scowled and retracted his hand. "Oh I get it. You just don't want to hold my 'clammy little hand', right?"

Kimiko startled, realizing her rudeness and shook her head frantically.

"No no! That's not it at all! I. . .I just. . .I'm surprised. That's all."

"Hmph."

"You wanna try that again? . . .please?"

He squinted his crimson eyes at her, trying to decide if he should take her seriously this time or not. Then he sighed, and held out his hand again, looking for all the world like it pained him greatly just to do it.

"Thanks, Kimiko."

He sounded much more confident now. The Xiaolin Dragon of Fire found herself genuinely beaming when he tagged on her name, and this time, she didn't hesitate to reach out and grasp his hand in return.

"Your welcome, Jack."

Gradually, oh-so-stubbornly, a sincere smile appeared on his lips.

Minutes passed, and still they remained as they were, sporting matching grins; their fists clasped together in what was supposed to be a friendly gesture. Yet. . .the longer they stayed that way, the less 'friendly' it felt. And it may just have been her imagination, but Kimiko swore their faces were slowly gravitating closer. . .closer. . .

"Kimiko!"

Their noses were less than an inch apart when her Papa's voice echoed behind the bathroom door.

Papa.

Kimiko gasped.

Papa!