Chapter Text
“So what you’re saying is you’re mad about the house-” Jack held up his hands and gave his best attempt at an understanding nod. “Y’know I get it, I do, but come on, we’ve fixed it before, we can fix it again, it’s not that big a deal and-”
“This isn’t about the house Jack.” The boy’s father sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is about your behavior, now your interest in robotics was all well and good, but this little game of yours has got to stop.”
“What game?” Jack cocked his head to the side, trying to figure out where his father was going with all of this, but before he could do so his mother joined in.
“This conquest silliness sweetheart, whatever it is that you do when you're running around with your little friends, things get broken, and do you know who has to pay for it all?”
“Yeah! Me!” He crossed his arms defensively, eyes locking on his mother’s in defiance.
“We do Jack.” She continued, her voice nothing but exasperated, “Financially and socially. People talk about these things you know.”
“They SHOULD talk!” Jack threw his arms up, raising his voice, “EVERYONE should talk because EVERYONE should know, I’m gonna rule the WHOLE world and maybe they should all see it coming! Someday I’m-
“That’s enough.” His father brought a fist down on the table between them, not hard, but firmly enough to demand recognition, “Enough games, enough delusions of grandeur, enough cavorting about with those friends of yours and making a mess of things! How do you think that makes your mother and I look? Think of what we have to uphold- this decision wasn’t easy for us to make, it certainly won’t be a fun conversation, but your track record hasn’t left us with any other choice.”
“What your father is trying to say-” His mother interjected, laying a gentle hand on her husband’s arm, “-Is that this is what’s going to be best for you .”
“WHAT’S going to be best for me!?” His voice wavered, but he stood his ground, crossing his arms tightly in defense, “Boarding school? A curfew? An allowance cut? A SHRINK!? How is ANY of that what’s best for ME!?”
“One of these days Jack,” His father’s voice grew colder as he spoke, “You’re going to hurt yourself- or someone else. We don’t plan on cleaning up the mess, especially when it’s easier to prevent it in the first place. Now, this has gone on long enough, you’re almost an adult and here you are still acting like a petulant child.”
“I am NOT!” Jack’s voice cracked, his hands balling up into fists. “I’m not a little kid, and I don’t need some overblown daycare taking all my toys away!- SUPPLIES!” he was quick to correct himself, “SUPPLIES AND ROBOTS AND WEAPONS AND PLANS TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD!” He didn’t even realize he was standing until he heard his chair fall to the floor behind him, knocked over by the force of how fast he’d jumped to his feet. Too fast, he placed a hand on the table to steady himself as the floating spots settled back into the corners of his vision.
“Look just-” he hesitated a moment, chewing at the inside of his cheek and trying to think of anything else he could say to talk his way out of this he’d done it plenty of times right? “I’ll keep the collateral damage to a minimum ok? Maybe set up some decent security so those Xiaolin losers will stop trying to bring the fight into my house all the time…” Both of his parents looked unconvinced. “Er- Our house…” His father still wore a skeptical grimace. “Yyyyour… house?” He tried again, this time with what he hoped was a placating smile. It looked more like an unfortunate bout of indigestion. “Just one more chance, ok?”
There was a loaded moment of silence while his parents looked at each other, then back to him. Every second that passed made it that much harder to breathe. He wanted to sit back down but that would mean picking the chair up off the floor and that would mean turning away and that would mean giving up just like he always did but he couldn’t give up on this.
“Jackie,” Finally- finally his mother spoke, and it was that tone, that beautiful tone of “let’s go out for dinner tonight, wherever you want.” and “let’s look at homeschooling options together ok?” that wonderful, perfect, lifesaving tone of voice that meant things would be ok! And then she finished talking.
“We don’t want this to happen the hard way, but we know Saint Rockwells can help you more than we can. Just give it a try alright? Come out to the car with us and you won’t have to deal with any of the drama that comes with their escorts. Please sweetheart, for me, just try?”
Jack couldn’t hear her last statement, from the moment she’d said “their escorts” he’d been caught between screaming and throwing up. Escorts? Saint Rockwell Escorts? He wasn’t an idiot, thank you, he knew perfectly well that that just meant “cops with more child-friendly uniforms and a paycheck from a private institution instead of the government” and no, no thank you, he would not be dealing with them today or any other day or ever. That settled that then, according to his folks his options were “get in our car and go” or “get in our car and go” which, of course, made the choice an obvious one.
He’d taken off for the back door before either of his parents could so much as stand up.
He had to move fast, for all he knew the house could be surrounded, and from this side of the first floor he couldn’t possibly make it downstairs to pick up any heavy equipment for the road. He had to get out and get out fast. He had to think. Think. He managed to do enough thinking to grab his shoes and his heli-pack before letting the door slam shut behind him and running for it. Any other thinking could come later, what mattered now was not getting dragged off to a stiff grey prison-school to get sedatived and therapized and other equally horrible things that they did to other crazy teenagers. No not other crazy teenagers, just crazy teenagers, one of which he was not. Not at all, if anything he was gifted damnit! Why was everyone too stupid to see that? Jack Spicer was clearly the smartest mind of his generation and-
“OW- OWWWOWOWSSshit thathurtsalot!” -and he had just tripped over a large rock and narrowly managed to avoid landing directly on his face.
Ok. Time to stop geniusing and running at the same time. Or at least time to put on shoes. After sitting himself down on the offending rock that had just attacked him entirely unprovoked, Jack finally managed to take in his surroundings. He was somewhere in the forest surrounding his home, but too far in to identify where, maybe far enough to be over the property line, though that was doubtful. No one seemed to be chasing him on foot, which was good, he wouldn’t be running again any time soon if his dying lungs and sore legs had anything to say about it. He pulled on his shoes and sucked in a few more deep breaths before standing back up and strapping his heli-pack around his chest a little too tightly- just to keep his heart from beating out of his chest and his lungs from cracking apart his ribcage.
Flying would beat running as a means of transportation anyway, he let his body go slack into the harness as it lifted him off the ground, he’d just need to stay low enough that they wouldn’t be able to spot him over the treeline for awhile. This was just another bump in the road. A big bump. Maybe a hurdle- if cars could jump hurdles- No that wasn’t a thing most cars could do. Could his car do that? Did it still count as a car? Car seemed a little demeaning as a term for it actually… This important logistics question stopped being important as he nearly smashed directly into a tree. Right. Focusing.
He needed to go somewhere, food water and shelter were things human beings needed in order to survive. Some form of mental stimulation was also most likely a crucial part of not dying, pens or tools or music at least and oh son of a bitch his mp3 player was sitting on his desk in his room in his house and this was probably up there in the top 5 worst days of his life.
Priorities. Survival. Food water shelter and something- anything- to do. Jack could think of two separate places that could meet those criteria, and considering one of them was far too unnervingly scary to even think about setting foot in for the time being, groveling for forgiveness at the gaping mouth of Chase’s citadel looked like his best option.