Disclaimer: I don't own American Dragon; Jake Long!

Title: Rain Will Fall

Summary: The first transformations are always the hardest.

Warnings: Possibly a bit AU? I haven't found anything on the wiki page pointing to Jake/Haley's first transformations (other than Jake's happening on his 13th birthday and the like) but wiki doesn't always tell the truth, obviously.

...

Jake Long was a thirteen year old fire-breather.

Now, that may sound stupid or immature, but he wasn't kidding. He could breathe fire. No lie.

It didn't always work though, which kinda sucked. Some days he couldn't manage to breathe enough of it and it felt like his throat was melting under the buildup. Other days... well, he was lucky to get smoke.

He didn't tell anyone about it; it seemed kinda risky to, you know? Grandpa might understand, but he'd just give him one of his weird ancient remedies and he'd never be able to do it again. Gramps was hardcore like that. Dad would either say it was his imagination playing tricks on him or freak out and send him to a therapist. Haley was a tattle-tale, so it would only work against him to tell her even if she was smart enough to figure out how he did it.

And mom... Jake didn't know, actually. She'd always been a bit twitchy about stuff like this.

Besides, people with superpowers were supposed to keep it under wraps, right? Secret identities and all that junk. It was kinda cool to him to have something in common with the comic book guys he loved so much.

So he makes it a point to practice his fire-breathing once a week instead of worrying too much over it. It gets him away for awhile; and it feels incredibly right, watching the targets burn to the ground in a burst of flame.

That... sounded really creepy, now that he thought about it. It didn't sound like that before he'd actually put the thought into being, promise.

Today was technically the day he was supposed to be practicing (not that he has a schedule or anything. Not really. He doesn't write the specific day down anywhere. Therefore, it's not a schedule), but it's freezing cold out and he hates the cold. That, and it's his birthday, so he deserves a day off. (Not that he didn't practice or anything, just not today).

And, okay, he's not going to lie, he's been feeling weird all day. Not bad, per say. Just... prickly. Like something was building up under his skin and won't go away.

It's kind of scary, honestly, but it's not painful, so he lets it slide. He probably just ate to much cake or something.

But then... it happens.

It's kind of a blur, at first. Mom asking him to go to the store for something- what, he can't quite remember-, him shuffling along the street and yanking on the sleeve of his jacket bitterly, the cold making his skin numb, and then suddenly the prickling feeling under his skin reached its bursting point and he needed to hide. He didn't know why, exactly, but even he knew better than to ignore his more basic instincts. They were there for a reason, after all.

So he ducked into some random alleyway behind some trash cans, curled up in a ball, and squeezed his eyes shut, praying to whatever deity existed out there that no one from school saw him acting like he was. The last thing he needed was for his street cred to go down the drain on his birthday.

There was a flash of red-ish yellow light that reminded him of fire, and then all was quiet. Well, as quiet as it got in the big city, anyway.

Actually, if he were to be honest, everything seemed even louder than usual. His very senses seemed to be more powerful than before, rubbed raw by the light. He lifted his head out of his hands, blinked, then glanced back down.

But his hands weren't hands.

They were claws.

This had all actually started the day before, when he was practicing his fire-breathing.

Well, attempting to, anyway. Something had felt off the moment he'd set up the targets. His throat was coated with so much heat that, while not painful, it'd been impossible to ignore. The flames had burned much more steadily and brighter than usual as well.

Jake, looking back on it, probably should've had a red flag or two go off, but he didn't. He'd just thought he was getting better at it.

The part about all of this that freaks him out the most about turning into some weird monster thing (what, he's not quite sure yet. He hasn't come across any mirrors as of late. But he has wings though, so that's a bonus) is that he doesn't feel any different from normal. Werecreatures and other monsters like that in the comics always go on and on about how it feels unnatural, changing, being something completely different than what they originally were, but he just is. A bit more sensitive, but otherwise unchanged.

Should he be feeling like this? Is there something he's missing here?

As stupid as this must sound, he can't figure out if he's supposed to be on two legs or four. Two legs sound about right in any form he could possibly possess, strange or no, but his back feet kinda look like the back legs you see on a dog or cat, so... whatever. It's too much of a risk for him to stand up and possibly give himself away as he darts around random alleyways, getting himself more and more lost in his desperation.

But then it starts to rain in heavy cold sheets, and Jake starts slowing down. The cold seems to sink beneath his skin and into his very bones, and, instead of shaking like he usually would, he starts getting sleepy of all things instead.

Wait, skin? Jake blinks sluggishly down at his yellow chest. Nope, definitely not skin. Looks a lot like scales, actually, which is pretty cool. It's better than feathers.

Wait... don't creatures with scales typically hibernate when it gets cold out? Oh crud, they totally do, don't they? Jake picked up his pace, gingerly making his way quite comfortably on all fours. It would not do for him to knock out somewhere and have someone like Rotwood find him. How would he explain that one to mom?

"Well, what do we have here?" A gruff voice asked. Two large hands grabbed him by the sides, picked him up, and turned him around. A blue thing that looked a lot like a human but he was blue (and not the cute smurf blue either) grinned at him. "Don't you worry now, I won't hurt ya-"

Jake, in a fit of panic, mostly caused by just how crazy this day has been, rears back and bites his hand. The creature yelps and drops him. He skitters behind some trash cans.

"Ouch." The thing says, waving his hand. "Geez, kid. What did I ever do to you?"

He tries to keep himself awake as the adrenaline fades into fatigue, he really, really does, but it's cold and he's tired. The not-smurf digs through his pockets and pulls out a cell phone.

"Yo, Fu. No, this isn't about the money. Put Lao Shi on the phone."

From then on, he could only vaguely hear tidbits of what he was saying.

"Yes, I'm sure. I know what a... looks like."

"Whattaya mean, he can't come? Bring your own hide over here, then!"

"He ain't gonna go with me, Fu. He's too riled up."

Fu? Isn't that the name of Gramp's dog?

Struggling to keep his eyes open, he fixes them on the ground, only to dimly realize a puddle has formed in a hole in the concrete. The rain has died down, and he can see a blurry outline of himself in it.

Oh, he looks sorta like...

Jake blacked out.

It smells like old radio parts, dust, that weird smell that always ends up clinging to his clothes after a visit to Gramp's store, and that old smell most old people's homes have wafting through the air.

Jake sits up, his eyes covered by what looks and feels like a blanket. He sniffs the air.

"Gramps?"

It's his shop, at least. Jake would know that smell anywhere, even when it's been magnified like this.

"Oh no ya don't, kid." A voice says before piling more blankets on his head. "You ain't goin' nowhere. Not until you're nice and warmed up. Got it?"

"Did I... fall asleep?"

"Yup. You were this close to goin' into deep hibernation. You're lucky Morty found ya when he did."

"Morty? Was he... that blue guy?"

"Uh-huh. He's a nice troll, so long as ya don't owe 'em any money. Your gramps was out lookin' for you, so it'll be awhile before he gets back."

Jake, who had had enough confusion for one day, thank you, pulled the corner of the blanket covering his face up so he could see just who he was talking to. "...Fu?"

"In the fur, kid." Fu nodded. Jake dumbly noted he was standing on two legs. "Look, I know this is a lot to take in. Just take a deep breath and let the blankets and heater do their work, alright? We'll talk it over after."

To numb from everything that had happened that day to argue or question it, Jake slowly nodded and dropped the corner, snatching his hand back under the pile so it could get warm. "Fu?"

"Yeah?"

"Am I?..."

"A bonafide dragon? You bet your scales."

"I was gonna say were-lizard, but whatever. Dragons are a lot cooler anyhow."

"Were-lizard's are pretty shady, kid. None too nice, neither. Don't hang 'round 'em if you can help it."

They chatted back and forth for awhile while Jake slowly gained more and more awareness of what was going on around him and just how crazy this all was.

He was a dragon. Talking to a dog. A talking dog.

"Alrighty, now that you're up and movin', I'd better give your gramps a call. I didn't want 'em in the shop while you were recovering; you know, to better my odds of survival because you almost went into hibernation."

Fu hopped off the guest bed and disappeared from the room, only to return moments later with a cell phone.

"Wait." Jake slapped a claw over the receiver before Fu could start dialing, slinking out of his blanket nest rather reluctantly. "Does gramps really have to know?"

Fu raised an eyebrow and set his free paw on his hip. "What are you- of course he has to know! Sheesh. Look, if it makes ya feel any better, he's a dragon too, so he won't judge. Alright?"

"G's... a dragon?"

"'Course he is, kid. You had to get it from somewhere."

Jake sat back, trying to process the new info given to him before something else was thrown into his face and knocked him off kilter again. "...What am I gonna tell my folks?" He said eventually.

Fu, phone to his ear, smiles at him wanly. "Your mom already knows, kid. And she's the only one that needs to."

"Alright, left wing done. Now the right one."

Jake stretched his right wing out as far as it could go, silently marveling at how strangely right it feels to move a limb he didn't even have yesterday. Fu grabbed it gently, careful not to cause any discomfort as he looked it over.

"Uh, Fu?"

"Uh-huh?" He mumbles as he works, distracted with making sure he doesn't miss anything.

"Do you really have to examine me?"

"It's a custom. Gotta make sure everything's workin' right. You think you're up to learning how to breathe fire?"

"I can already do that." He puffed out his chest proudly- finally, something he knows how to do- and blew a small ball of fire, which, thankfully, dissolved before it could hit anything flammable. "See?"

"Hey, that's pretty good, kid." Fu looks surprised and impressed all at once. "You been practicin'?"

"Yeah. For awhile now, actually. I just thought I had some sorta superpower or somethin'."

"It's a superpower, alright. A real dangerous one. You're lucky ya' didn't burn something to the ground by accident."

Jake felt mildly offended, although he wasn't sure why. "Hey, I did burn something to the ground. Targets. Lot's of 'em."

Fu ran a paw across his muzzle. "Oh, boy. The council's gonna have a heyday with this one. Alright, let's check your height."

Jake blinked at him. "Uh..."

Fu fixed him a look. "You do know you can walk on two legs, right?"

"Well, I mean, I thought I could, but my back legs and..." He babbled.

"Normally it depends on the species, but you should be fine." Fu Dog held out his paws. "Come'on. I'll help."

Jake hesitantly took them and took a few wobbly steps. "There you go. See? Just takes practice."

"Why's this so hard?"

"Because you've been on all fours for hours now. Doin' that your first full transformation promotes a deficiency in walking with your back legs. You're lucky we could correct it before it was too late."

"Whoops?" He said sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Ain't your fault, kid. You didn't know. Come'on, let's try a few more, nice and easy."

It took some practice, but soon Jake could walk normally. Fu finished his examination without any delay.

"You're comin' along just fine. Couldn't be in better shape. 'Specially considering you almost took a snow nap." He grinned.

A half hour later the front door opened and shut. "Fu Dog?"

"Back here. Got the kid with me."

Lao Shi took his small coat off as quickly as possible, then walked into the back room. He peered through the door. "Jake?"

"Grandpa?" And if that wasn't a refreshing face to see- familiar and human- then nothing was.

The relief must've shown on his face. Lao Shi transformed without a word and floated over to pull him into a hug. "It will be okay, Jake. I promise."

And for the first time that night, Jake believed it.

He returned the old dragon's hug without a sound.

Author's Note: I don't know why, but every time I write ADJL, it always feels awkward or disjointed. A bit O.O.C. too, but whatever.

This is gonna be a two-parter with a possible prologue. One chapter for Jake, one for Haley. I kinda wanted to write a thing about it being kinda painful and how they were really confused and stuff, but they never showed pain during their transformation's during the series, so it wouldn't really fit.

That, and it's their natural form, so it shouldn't hurt for them to change. Change back, maybe, but not forward.

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