Author's Notes:
Disclaimer: I- unfortunetly- do not own Xiaolin showdown, nor do I own any of the characters used in this fiction.
Whooo. Chase's point of view. I've noticed that Chase chapters are a bit longer than Raimundo chapters. I think it's because I like him better.
PLEASE MAKE NOTE OF MATURE CONTENT WARNING IN CHAPTER ONE.
no- there isn't any mature content until chapter five (last chapter) but none the less...
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Chapter Two: His Again
Chase flinched as he wrapped up his bleeding hand.
He was letting his emotions get the better of him. He had to calm down. He glanced down at his bloody hand and then at the mirror he had smashed. He would clean that up later. He wasn't up for much of anything right now.
His bandaged hand clenched as he thought about what he had seen. Jack sprawled out underneath that monk.
The monk that he had always ignored.
That Clay.
It was true, he had never taken Jack seriously. He acted too much like a silly little school girl around Chase, and not much of an evil genius, and defiantly not like someone worth the warriors time. And then all of the affection, all of the stutters, the hanging around, everything stopped, and Jack had stopped coming to Chase's lair. And when it all stopped, Chase realized just how much he relied on Jack's company. Everything was so quiet; it was driving Chase insane. And then, after what seemed like years, but was only a couple of months, Jack came back. But it wasn't Jack anymore. He was different some how- grown up- mature. He had come to apologize for all the trouble he had put the warrior through-
And to tell Chase that he wouldn't be bothering him anymore.
It felt like someone had stabbed him.
Of course, he didn't let that show. Actually, he put on an air of someone who has just had an enormous burden lifted off his shoulders.
It was exactly the opposite- especially after Chase went to see him fight. Jack had been spending his time wisely. He still sent his jack-bots after the monks, but probably merely out of habit. When Omi sliced neatly through one of the robots and went for Jack's head, the boy genius nimbly ducked under him, rolled, and grabbed the Wu all in one fluid movement. And then he was gone.
No boasting, no inane laughing, he just left.
It was then when Chase knew that he had to bring Jack back to him. No matter what it took, he would get him back.
That's why he followed the Goth three days ago- to try to corner him into coming back and working for him. But Chase lost sight of him as clovers suddenly filled the air, choking out all light. He was caught in the middle of their show-down. He walked calmly through the plants, knowing that eventually, the weeds would shrink back down, but abruptly caught onto sounds coming from just around the corner. Whimpering- moaning? Chase stuck his head through and his eyes widened as he saw Clay lying on top of Jack, his tongue in Jack's mouth, his hands on Jack's pants.
This Texan monk had the nerve to think that he had the right to touch HIS Jack.
And then it hit him: Clay's tongue was intertwined with another's.
All of it clicked into place.
Jack had left him for another.
For Clay.
And Chase fled, knowing that if he didn't he would take his anger out in a most inefficient manner.
Of course, it would be a lie to say that he had taken his anger out efficiently once in the sanctuary of his own home. His house was a wreck, furniture smashed, food rotting (Chase hadn't much of an appetite), treasures and antiques ruined. And now his mirror. But he couldn't stand to look at himself anymore. Every time he did, he imagined Jack standing next to him.
And God were they a good couple.
Yes- he would get Jack back.
Jack would be his again.