Chase Young was bored.
His spouse had left hours ago to purchase more metal for his inventions. He knew their home was out of the way, but it had never taken Jack this long to get anything before. He had probably caught sight of something interesting in a shop window.
The immortal practically snorted at the mental image of the boy, face pressed up against the glass and almost drooling at the prospect of some new tool, or furiously jotting down his newest plans for world conquest that he had gotten inspiration for off of an ad for juice or something equally ridiculous.
He loved watching the inventor work. It was adorable the way his brow furrowed and his tongue peeked out of his mouth slightly when he was concentrating, not that Chase would ever admit this. He was eager to have his lover get home, but for now, he walked the halls, two of his warriors nearby. He had never noticed how empty this place seemed without the boisterous presence that was the self-proclaimed 'evil genius'.
Almost all of the jungle cats were busy, either completing their duties around the citadel, hunting, or in some cases, napping. Except, of course, for the two currently accompanying the Dragon Lord. To put it quite simply, there was nothing for the dragon to do. Wuya and the monks were off looking for some Shen Gong Wu that Chase had no interest in, Hannibal had 'mysteriously disappeared' years ago, and, as previously stated, Jack was out running errands.
The man and his warriors were on instant alert as a shrill noise cut through the previous silence. The three spun around, snarling in preparation for an attack.
They all righted themselves with no small amount of embarrassment as they realized it was only the telephone. Chase hated the thing, but Jack had insisted upon it's installation, saying they were far too 'cut off' from the world. Chase had allowed it, but only for Jack.
The Heylin had preferred it the way things were before, no irritating telemarketers interrupting things, just he and his mate.
He picked up the receiver, if only to make the noise stop, uttering a gruff "Hello?"
The hesitant voice of a male crackled out of the device. "Is this... Chase Young?" it asked.
"Yes. May I ask who this is?"
"This is doctor George Anderson, with the hospital. There's been an accident."
"What?" He growled.
"W-we did everything we could, but I'm afraid Jack Spicer passed away a few minutes ago. We're deeply so-"
Chase set down the phone with an abrupt 'click', staring at nothing.
Dead? How? He couldn't be, this had to be some sick joke, or... or a dream, or something, because there was no way this could happen in real life!
With the same blank expression on his face, Chase made his way to the nearest chair and sat down, putting his face in his hands.
The crazy, ridiculous, clumsy, stupid, genius albino was gone forever. He would never come up with another one of his ridiculous plans, never accidentally wake up his husband in the middle of the night because he suddenly had a new idea to improve his robots, his face would never again light up with that amazing smile he reserved for Chase and Chase alone.
To his horror, he felt something warm and wet slide down the side of his face. He, the mighty, immortal dragon lord, who had seen centuries turn, empires crumble, and whole civilitations fall to their knees, who had tortured and killed countless people mercilessly, was crying like a lost child.
But he allowed it.
Only for Jack.