True Terror Is Losing a Loved One

By: CrystallicSky

Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown or any of its characters.

Warnings: None, tame.

--

Chase Young was not entirely sure where he was at the moment.

His surroundings were pitch black, so much so that even his keen eyesight could make out nothing but darkness, and looking to the floor, he could not even spot an actual floor, leaving him to wonder just what it was he was standing on. There was no sound, only silence, and after a good deal of it, it was becoming unnerving.

All of a sudden, he felt a presence beside him, and as arms curled around his body, he tensed, swiftly turning his head to identify the being.

Almost immediately, however, he relaxed into the embrace at the sight of his young lover clinging to him affectionately, a smile on his face.

"Spicer," he addressed the boy, "what is going on? Where are we?"

Jack did not answer, only held him tighter and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I love you," he cooed lovingly.

As always, it pleased the warlord to hear the statement; calmed him to know that this beautiful genius of a boy truly felt for him and would not leave his side for anything in the world. At the moment, however, that was not what he had wanted in response, and with a frown, he demanded, "Spicer, answer me."

This time the goth shook his head, but again stated, "I love you."

Just as he was about to outright order Jack to answer him, Chase was given pause at the appearance of a new object in the blackness.

An hourglass, standing just shy of eight feet tall stood before the two of them, its frame black jade and the sand within its glass pure white. Nearly all of the sand had reached the bottom-half, leaving only a handful at best in the top-half.

The warlord watched as if he were spellbound as meanwhile, the white grains slowly trickled down to join their brethren; at last, the final grain slipped through.

A pained noise sounded from beside him, and Jack suddenly slumped forward, clutching at his chest in obvious pain.

Immediately, Chase had his arms around the youth as he whimpered softly, supporting his thin, wiry body. "Jack," he almost gasped, "what's wrong?!"

The goth only looked at him and gave a pained smile, once more repeating, "I love you…"

In utmost horror, Chase was able to hear Jack's heart stop and feel the cease of breath from his lips.

Somehow, the youth slipped from his arms, and his body turned to dust before it hit the ground.

Jack Spicer was dead.

--

Chase Young shot up in bed, breathing harshly and quivering ever so minutely as his heart beat a mile a minute in his chest.

An annoyed groan came from the other side of the bed, and golden eyes were just in time to catch a head of red hair disappear under a pillow, the object haphazardly positioned there by a bare, white arm.

"Chase," grumbled Jack Spicer's half-muffled voice, "go back to bed, m'tired…"

After taking a moment to realize he'd been dreaming, the warlord threw off the covers and stood, hastily throwing on a robe before unceremoniously wrenching his lover out of bed.

Jack yelped, startled, as he was dragged by the arm from the bedroom and down several hallways. "Chase," he whined, "it's four in the mo-where're we goin'?"

"Shut up," the man growled at him, and with a squeak, the goth promptly did so.

Within minutes, the two found themselves in a room the younger had never seen before, something of a laboratory, with large tomes in very ancient dialects scattered chaotically about and many containers of unidentifiable magic-looking concoctions, all of them glowing.

Jack was then rather rudely shoved into a chair with the words, "Stay put," and he could do no more than watch as his lover got to work on…whatever the hell it was he was working on.

Chase flipped furiously through the multitude of books, searching for something in particular, and the very second he found it and scanned through the passage, he threw the book aside and essentially ransacked the room in the gathering of ingredients.

Thankfully, he was not out of any needed components, in which case, he surely would have razed a village to the ground in frustration and anger.

In a surprisingly short amount of time (most likely due to the almost-frantic pace of the gathering), several liquids had been combined with several spices, resulting in a pale blue vial of…something.

Jack's eyes went wide as his lover deftly bit into his own thumb, drawing blood and allowing a drop of it to fall into the blue liquid, turning it dark red. He was consequently even further shocked to have his own wrist caught in Chase's grip, one of his own fingers treated to the same.

With the soft 'ow' at the pain of the bite, the goth wondered, "What's gotten into you, Chase? Are you okay?"

"This is a very specialized potion," was the only answer the man offered him. "It requires your blood as well as mine."

With the bright red drop of life into the darker red, the liquid flushed a pale pink, and the vial was just as quickly forced against Jack's lips. "Drink it," Chase commanded.

What else could Jack do but just that?

He willingly downed the liquid, grimacing at the thick texture and awful taste; nonetheless he kept it down, and was rewarded for his heroic effort in doing so with a forceful kiss from his lover, which he eagerly accepted.

However, it wasn't really a kiss, or at least, not exactly: Chase's lips were pressed to his, and their mouths were joined, but there wasn't anything…'going on' so to speak, including no use of tongue, which, considering the types of kisses he usually got from the warlord, was pretty weird.

The genius didn't have long to think on it, though, as his lover breathed gently into his mouth. The sensation was extremely odd, Chase's breath cold as ice and causing a tingling sensation to Jack's tongue and throat as it touched there. Surprisingly, the sensation continued further than just there, spreading quickly throughout his entire body down to his toes and making his skin crawl at the unfamiliarity.

It was at that moment that Chase pulled away from his mouth, and feeling a strong need to do so, Jack coughed lightly, rubbing his chest. With a light shake of his head, which felt a bit foggy at the moment, the goth murmured, "I…I feel different…" He looked to his lover for answers, inquiring, "What-"

"You are now immortal," Chase told him, expression firm and unreadable, "just as I am."

Red eyes went wide, and for a long moment, the goth could do no more than stare at the warlord shocked. "Wh-what?" he breathed, stunned. "Why?"

The man immediately crushed Jack to his chest, growling, "I will not lose you to the hands of the Reaper, Spicer. I won't."

The albino was quiet for another long moment. "Okay…" he eventually said. "I'm…sure there's a whole story behind this, and I'm sure its all very interesting, but I can't….process this right now: its four in the morning. Is there any way we could just go back to bed and talk about what…all this means at a more reasonable hour, like…I don't know, noon, when I'd be 100% sure its not a trippy dream?"

Chase scoffed, but nevertheless allowed, "Very well; we can go back to bed if you wish it."

"Please," Jack groaned, already eager to be back under the blankets and less conscious than a rock.

With that sentiment, Chase Young was able to return to bed with his lover, secure in the knowledge that there was now absolutely nothing that could tear the boy from his side.

A/N: I wanted to have this out by Halloween. It is two days late because my writer's block is killing me.

HOWEVER, I figured I needed to do something for Halloween, thus this. XD

Hope it came out okay, or at least that you guys like it! :D