I don't know why, but I can't stop writing stuff in this category! Inspired by yet another Billy Talent song (yeah, yeah, shut up), this one's 'The Dead Can't Testify'. Anyway, this is an AU slash fic, Chase and Jack, and the time as I'm typing this is 3:47am, so there's going to be a bunch of mistakes and I'd appreciate it if you didn't kill me for this.

Another thing not to kill me for, I'm probably gonna torture Spicer a little, not sure yet. I know I could've just typed this after I finished, but again, half asleep here. Unfortunately not asleep enough, or chances are I wouldn't be writing this. So, apologies for the long-winded author's note you probably skimmed over or skipped entirely, and please review, it brings me joy.

Jamestown, VA, 1632...

It was a normal day for Jack Spicer, and that basically meant he was locked in the basment, away from whatever company his parents had decided to invite over today. A young man, his last name might have been Young or something like that, not that it mattered.

It wasn't that he particularly minded being in the basement, it gave him time to think, and he'd managed to make a few things. He'd come up with a new idea recently, a light that wouldn't need fire, and a basic design involving some glass and wire, but no means of giving it power. He knew it would work eventually, he just had to find a way to give it energy.

He couldn't do anything now, though. His parents had 'forgotten' to leave candles again, so he was forced to sit in the dark room. Ugh, something was dripping on him, too.

His parents were... how to describe it... They were quite rich, having been one of the few families to make a substantial amount of money, but his father didn't want to waste any of his cash on some freak who never left the house, which left Jack with only what he could find in the basement, and nothing to wear but a single pair of shoes, some pants, and an old, ragged black coat several sizes too big. Jack understood his logic, but it was still absurd.

The boy was actually quite fond of the basement, but he would like to see outside sometimes. He wasn't even allowed to look out of windows, but he knew that there was more to everything than this house. Maybe he could leave someday, after the villagers got over the ridiculous paranoia and stopped killing people. He didn't know what killing meant, but it didn't sound very nice.

"Jack, honey, you can come out now, if you want." His mother called from the top of the stairs in her overly perky voice. "There's some bread left over, too!"

Shutting his eyes against the sudden brightness that had invaded his sanctuary, he nodded silently, and she left the door open so he could find his way.

His mother handed him the remaining food, which actually looked delicious. His stomach growled in agreement, and he took a few candles off the table to bring with him.

A new voice cut through the thick silence, belonging to a man he knew all too well. "Not so fast."

Jack froze, wishing he hadn't left the basement.

"Where do you think you're going with all of that?" His father placed a huge hand on the albino's shoulder.

"I was just going back to the basement." He managed to keep the tremor out of his voice. The last thing he needed right now were more bruises.

"Put back the candles." The large man growled.

"But Dad, I-"

"Put. Them. Back." He squeezed Jack's shoulder hard enough to make the boy yelp.

Shivering slightly, he set all of them back down. "Sorry." he stepped back into the basement, wincing as the door slammed behind him. There was a click, meaning that Jack was once again locked in the room.

At least he had food this time.

...

It was dark when he woke up. Of course it was, he chided himself, he lived in an underground room with no windows. His cheek held the imprint of the stone floor, and the arm he had accidentally slept on was numb. Well, that was just great. If he had been thinking last night instead of going over his plans for the light, he would've at least slept on the soggy straw mattress that lay in one corner.

He felt along the wall to avoid falling, and barely managed to avoid tripping on the bottom step of the stairs. The feeling in his arm had resigned to an awkward tingle, so he tried the door with his other hand. It was locked. Putting his back against the cool wood, he sunk to the floor. He could hear muffled voices from outside the doorway.

"Why are you here, Wuya?" His father spoke.

"Because, Spicer, you owe me."

"I paid you a long time ago, now get out!"

The strange woman laughed ominously. "Are you sure you want to do that?" Her voice suddenly got lower, and Jack could no longer her what they were discussing.

"I'll be back soon." He heard the front door open and close.

He felt slightly shaken, although he didn't know why. He managed to navigate the room and sat down in one of the corners. Why did his father owe that woman? What had he done? He didn't recognize the voice at all, so she wasn't a friend of the family. Wuya... That name sent shivers down his spine. Maybe she-

His thoughts were interrupted as the front door once again burst open.

"Wuya! I demand to know what's going on!"

"The basement is where it should be." She instructed someone.

Light flooded into the room as the men broke down the door. Suddenly blinded, Jack did what he could to hide, but to no avail.

The men grabbed him. Jack struggled, twisting around in their grip and hitting at them pathetically, but it was useless. One of the men let out a string of angry cuss words, hitting the boy harshly in the back of the head. The albino went limp as everything around him faded into inky blackness. The last thing he heard was the angry whisper of the woman, saying "It's time to pay your dues..."

...

"...viously he's been cursed from birth, if he's not a witch or the like." Jack didn't recognize the man's voice, but honestly he wasn't apt to pay much attention right now, seeing as his head felt like it had been crushed by a boulder. He couldn't see anything, there was a strip of fabric over his eyes, but he knew he was in chains. There was a dirty rag stuffed in his mouth, presumably to keep him from talking.

"But he's our son!" That would be his mother. Were they talking about him? He began to listen to the voices, each one now clamoring to be heard. They must be in a meeting or something.

A few pounding noises, and the people quieted. "Be that as it may, Mrs. Spicer, you and your husband are getting off easily, because many of the townsfolk agree that you are good, god-fearing folk. This boy, however, should have been killed the moment he was born."

Wuya spoke this time, shrill and annoying. "He must have put you under a spell, thinking that abomination was your son!"

"Yes! The boy is a witch! Just look at the freak!" The fabric over his eyes was torn off, and he blinked, squinting at the sudden light as his vision adjusted. A few gasps and even a scream rung out around the meeting hall.

"His eyes are red! That alone is proof he is in league with the devil himself!" All around, people nodded and muttered agreement, refusing to look the boy in the eye, lest he curse them.

One quick pound. Jack looked over to see the judge, face stoic and voice grave."It is decided, then. The boy is a witch, and he will be executed tomorrow."

Executed?! No! He didn't want to be! Executed was the same as killed! He didn't want to be killed!

Two more men approached where the boy lay. He looked at them, silently pleading to be released, but they spared him no pity. He choked back a sob, and realized that there was... liquid of some sort coming out of his eyes. What was this?

The blindfold once again eclipsed his vision, and he was lifted and thrown over one of the men's shoulders. He could hear whispers all around him, scathing insults directed at him.

"...should've been drowned at birth..."

"...such a shame, the Spicers being tricked like that..."

"...horrible witch child..."

"Monster!"

"Freak!"

"Demon!"

"How disgusting."

I'm not a witch! He wanted to scream, but he could do nothing with the rag in his mouth. He struggled uselessly in the man's grip.

I'm not a witch...