Clay made a point not to look in Chase's direction. The conversations they had had a while ago, the one at the temple gardens, the one when they were side-lined together during a showdown...they haunted Clay. These echoed words that followed him like a shadow, even in the dark. Chase had warned him this would happen, sowed the seeds of guilt, but Clay was a fool in love, and though he let those seeds grow...
It wasn't the overwhelming guilt that broke him. It was the end of the World that did it, because now, everything was crumbling around him.
Clay's lies had shattered whatever trust Omi had in him. Had snapped the frail threads of friendship he and Raimundo had. The kindred spirit he and Kimiko were gone. It had all turned to dust between his fingers, and Clay had let it happen... for love.
Was that so bad? Being selfish for love, for happiness? It shouldn't be a bad thing, but Clay felt like it was. He knew it wasn't the love itself that was the issue, it was who he happened to be sharing it with that was. It was the lies, the sneaking behind the other back, the constant web of deceit, the hundreds of missed chances to speak that Clay refused to take.
And now, thanks to it, he had to make a choice...and Clay chose Jack. He chose love, and it drew a clear line in the sand. Now it was him, and Jack, against the rest of the Xiaolin monks. An unfair fight, that Clay really did not want to have. But it was clear he wasn't going to be having that choice; he knew it wasn't going in his favour.
He was almost thankful that Chase was filling the air with their own voice, even if their words were a clear bait; a carrot dangling in front of his boyfriend. A carrot Jack bit into without questioning it.
Their reaction was enough to have Clay glance back at them, the faintest bit of heartbreak in his eyes. The cowboy knew that Jack craved Chase's approval like one would need air in their lungs.
It still hurt when he heard the excitement in Jack's voice...
It's why Clay gave a soft squeeze to their hand, grounding them back into reality. Clay looked at Jack with a soft, blue gaze. Clay knew that Jack loved him, adored him, but for a split second, there was a fear that this had all been a trap from the start. He doubted it, but a tiny voice whispered that he had been strung along...
Clay's not sure he could handle that sort of twist in fate. He wouldn't be able to take that form of reality; where it turned out it was all a lie. Where every smile, every moment, every second together was all a ploy.
Thankfully, it wouldn't be a reality Clay was facing.
He felt Jack's grip grow tighter around his fingers, as they now acted as the Dragon of Earth's own rock. His heart beat a little faster, upon feeling Jack wrap his arm around his biceps, making as clear as day where Jack also stood in all of this.
A proud smile lifted onto Clay's lips, his chest puffing out sightly as Jack spoke. He loved him, and he planned to do so for a long time too. So did Clay; he was willing, wanting, to spend the rest of his life with Jack at his side. What sealed it for Clay, was when Jack claimed he'd give up the World for him.
The World, the thing Jack has been trying to take over for as long as they had practically been alive...he'd give it up for him.
Clay could feel the warmth on his face, paired with the way Jack squeezed his bicep. For a moment, he almost forgot he was standing in Chase Young's lair, facing off against his friends. Until Jack taunted the other monks, saying how he was now stealing their time with him. That got Clay to blink back into reality,
"Darlin', stop callin' my friends losers," Clay scolded gently, "I keep tellin' y'all this."
And every time, the request was ignored.
Clay stepped back, ready to walk away. Omi's voice stopped him; the cowboys blood ran ice cold. He glanced away from the young monk, unable to face them at all. He had hurt them too much to even to deserve to look at any of them. Their plea for Jack to not keep him too long only made Clay grit his teeth.
He was scum for what he had done.
Clay lifted his free hand to his hat, tugging the brim down to keep his face hidden. He didn't even say goodbye to his friends, didn't even look at them. Instead, he merely let himself be led away by Jack, his fingers never leaving theirs.
As the pair began to leave, Kimiko reached out, resting a warm hand on Raimundo's shoulder. Her fingers pressed into him, as she silently told him to not follow. She could feel the tension in his body, could practically hear the storm threatening to form. Her only concern was keeping it at bay, for as long as they could.
Dojo took this all as a sign to leave. He slithered off of Omi's shoulders, and let his body grow to its usual, much larger size,
"C'mon kids, lets get out of here," He suggested, before mumbling to himself, "Before any other secrets are revealed..."
As soon as Dojo was sure the remaining monks were sat on his back, he made a quick escape, no longer wanting to remain near the villains - especially Chase Young, they may want to try and put him on the menu again.
The ride back to the temple was unsettling silent. Dojo knew that this was far from over, and he could only hope Master Fung could stop whatever may happen between the monks when Clay comes home.
It was dark, near pitch black, by the time Clay returned to the temple. He stood outside the gates, lips tugged into a thin line as his eyes stared at the place he had been calling his home for years now. He noted how quiet it was; noted how the place felt dead to the World.
There was hesitation on his part; he knew he would have to face the music sooner or later.
Clay took in a slow breath, holding it in his lungs. His fingers twitched at his sides, his spine straightened, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Trouble was brewing, and it was coming his way.
Boots peeled away from the floor, as Clay gradually walked through the gate. He let his gaze flicker around, taking in every detail. He felt no vibrations through the floor, meaning no one was on the level ground with him.
He had barely made it a few steps into the courtyard, when Clay felt the wind pick up. Clay was a fool in love, but he was no idiot. He didn't need to see what was going his way.
Standing fully, the cowboy remained braced, tense. He moved his fingers, feeling his knuckles click and crack with every movement. Eyes still scanning the area, now looking to the roofs for any sign of movement, Clay spoke out,
"Make y'all move Raimundo!"
He sure as Hell won't be throwing the first punch, but he was determined to throw the last.
