"You know what? This is bogus."

With a frustrated sigh, Jack put aside the mangled corpse of Jackbot 421, brushing off stray bits of wire and broken steel from his mat. It was around ten at night- just after most everyone else had gone to bed. This was pretty early for him to turn in, though, considering the number of bots he had yet to fix. Still, even if he wanted to stay up, the recent patch of stitches across his belly (courtesy of one Miss Katnappe) ensured that the only pain-free position was lying down. The only problem behind sleeping now would be if-

"Turning in early, loser?" Great.

The taunting would usually begin at night. It was never loud enough to wake anyone else up, though- even Raimundo, who was both an insomniac and a notoriously light sleeper. Now, most of the time Jack would be able to drown it out with headphones as he stayed up far past what should have been his bedtime to work on other projects, but since tonight Omi had "borrowed" them for "lasso practice", he had nothing to distract him from his creation's harsh jabs and petty insults.

"You know, I never thought I'd have been modeled after such a weenie." The young monk sighed at the words, turning away on his mat and wondering why turning RoboJack's vocal chords never seemed to stay turned off for long, even when it should be impossible. "A whiny, goody-goody baby who only managed to make one perfect bot that he tore apart- which, thanks, by the way. I just love sitting here being useless while you let all your other dumb machines wander around like frigging toddlers."

There was a long period of silence as Jack ignored him further. "What, too chicken to fight back? Of course you are. Figured the one 'Xiaolin Dragon' with the COOL element would be totally useless at everything."

When that didn't get a rise out of him, the doppelganger tried a different tactic. "I don't even know what he sees in you." Jack drew the blanket up higher over his shoulder. The android grinned in the dark, eyes glowing soft from the LEDs within them like a spark in a bundle of tinder. "I mean, what is there to you, really? You're too weak to fight, too wimpy to bother training like your 'little brother'- heck, you can't even sleep without a nightlight."

There was a soft grumble from under the sheets. "He's a little slime cookie, not a nightlight." It wasn't worth the effort to defend himself against the inert pile of scrap that had once been his biggest project, but Jack could not help picking a fight with the guy. Maybe he'd programmed the jeering banter a little too well.

"Ha ha," the other laughed, "Right. The nasty gunk that nutjob bird tore out of your crush is 'just a slime cookie'. Jeeze, you're pathetic." Robo Jack grinned a little wider from his position on the floor, his head detached from his body so he wouldn't make any trouble. "First you get the only other possibly cool monk here to drop his 'righteous fury' shtick with the ~power of friendship~, then you turn him into just another wimp who doesn't know how to get stuff done without crying about it for an hour, and to add insult to injury, you keep the thing that made him better than any of you losers locked up in a plexiglass box to gawk at when you're not too busy fawning over him and his stupid fleshbag issues." The mechanic stayed turned over so that Robo Jack wouldn't be able to see the tightness in his eyebrows, nor the frown that poked and pulled at his lips. Now, ignoring Robo Jack wouldn't strictly guarantee that he'd stop, but it was better than giving the malfunctioning creation the satisfaction of seeing him get all wound up over words that he knew were just designed to make him feel bad.
Besides, the last time he'd tried to tell anyone, he'd brought Master Chase back to his stall only to find the bot pretending to be offline. Which had gotten him dish duty the next morning.

"Why are you even here?" The autotuned voice grew suddenly softer, now. "You're a shut-in. You make all these robots to be your friends instead of, I dunno, turning yourself into one- which would be a better idea, I think. Did you really believe anyone here was ever your friend? Don't make me sick. Kimiko thinks you're a creep, Clay barely tolerates you, Omi doesn't even know any better than to like someone like you, and Raimundo? The dude's just obsessed because he thinks you're some saint." Weirdly enough, Robo Jack's tone stayed shifted, as if he was trying to give advice and didn't quite know how. "You only think they like you because they're forced to live here next to you. If ~Master Monk Chase~ hadn't decided to take you in, you'd probably be rotting in your aunt's basement." Finally, Jack let out a sigh.

"Are you going anywhere with this?" he asked tiredly. Robo Jack laughed, a cold, quiet thing that sounded strange with Jack's voice.

"Just making conversation," he said. "I don't get many chances to talk now that I'm a disembodied head."

Jack groaned and tried to smother himself with his pillow.
"Aw, don't be like that. It's not my fault you're a sensitive little baby. Lighten up." There was a low hum in the air as Robo Jack went quiet again. "Besides, I did have a point."you

"And that would be…?" Jack asked as the android paused for way too long to be comfortable.

"Remember when HB zapped out all your goody-goody chi? Now that was something great. I think it suits you."

In response, Jack let out a scoff. "That's your big revelation? Join the Dark Side? Get real, you glorified Tomagotchi."

"Think about it. That day? The only day you were responsible for anything even remotely interesting. Besides me, of course. You blew up the temple, turned all your friends evil at least once each, and got Mr. High-Horse to take a few steps back down the path that rocks."

Scowling by the end of Robo Jack's monologue, Jack somehow managed to sit up, ignoring the stitches over his stomach. He turned an angry eye to the head lying on the floor, pulled it into his lap, and shoved his hand through the access panel on the back of its skull to yank out a fistful of still-sparking wires, the frayed plastic digging into the palm of his hand. He chucked the head behind him into the pile of robot bits next to his worktable, and flopped down with an uncomfortable knot in his abdomen that had nothing to do with the fabric keeping his skin tied together.

From the next stall over, Jack heard a groggy, soft voice lift above the thin wall between them. "…Jack…? You okay?"

He spent about a half a second actually considering the question before he tossed an answer back. "Yeah, Beta. Just peachy."