Just like his element, Clay was plummeting into the gorge like a stone, air lashing his face as it rushed past him. The moment he let go of his hat, the rush of air swept it away to regions unknown. Usually the loss of his most prized possession would elicit a strong and emotional response from him.

Yet the cowboy remained indifferent to his missing hat; he quickly realized while important, it was still just a hat, and they sold hats like his by the barrel back home. A determined, although anxious frown creased his brow while his eyes remained steady on the small body tumbling ahead of him. Unlike his hat, Clay was certain they didn't sell Omi by the barrel back home.

A growl rumbled from his chest as he tried making himself more aerodynamic, more streamline to increase his falling speed. Clay could feel his heart thump madly inside his chest; the further he fell the more jagged the cliff side became. It would be only a matter of time before they crash into it or smash into the gorge's bottom.

He needed to act fast before either one of them would splatter like an egg hitting the frying pan. The cowboy stretched his arms out as his attempts to increase his speed paid off; he was drawing closer to Omi. Just a little more – perhaps another foot or two – and Clay could at least try cushioning the impact for his friend.

But there wasn't enough time for just another foot or two and Clay could see a particularly nasty piece of rock swelling before them. It was now or never; with a grunt, reached out and grabbed Omi's collar, pulling him into a tight embrace. His body curled around the monk and he closed his eyes to the inevitable impact.

His ribs slammed into the rock, which knocked the wind right out of him. He didn't get even the chance to cry out in pain before the world inverted and his back crashed into another unruly piece of rock. Sliding off, the cowboy seemed to bounce then, along the way taking chunks of rocks with him.

Those chunks crashed into other rocks, which then collided with several more and created an unfortunate chain reaction. Eventually the tumbling rocks overtook Clay and his body disappeared among the crumbling earth. The avalanche of sedimentary grew larger as it raced toward the gorge's bottom, picking up boulders that could easily crush a man without effort.

The avalanche slammed into the bottom of the gorge and the sound of debris spilling about echoed throughout the vicinity. A cloud of dust carried by the cascading rocks billowed across the gorge's bottom and then climbed the opposite cliff several feet. Once it had dissipated, an eerie silence pervaded the area, broken now and then by the distant rumble of the volcano.

It was in this silence there came a little groan of pain, and Dojo crawled out of Omi's robes with the taste of blood strong in his mouth. Claws digging into the red fabric, the dragon pulled himself over his friend's side and then plopped to the ground with another pained groan. He tried getting up again – only to succeed in falling flat on his stomach once more.

Good God, he hasn't been in this much pain since Wuya tried to raze Luoyang; wheezing, Dojo held his head and tried to focus, his vision blurry. A groan bubbled from his chest and he forced the bile rising in his throat back down. "T-Talk about being in the lion's den, right Omi?" Dojo asked while rubbing his brow tentatively.

"Omi?" Dojo slithered toward the monk's face and tapped his cheek a little. When there was no reaction, he tapped a little harder, a frown creasing his brow. "Omi, you there kiddo?" he called.

Uh-oh, this wasn't good – this wasn't good at all; no matter how many times the dragon tried rousing his friend, Omi remained flatter than cardboard. He whined in distress and reached to swipe the blood dribbling from his nose, then the corner of his mouth. To his horror, the monk still smelled faintly of burnt flesh.

"Omi speak to me! C'mon kiddo, I know you're tougher than this!" Dojo pleaded. The monk's head bobbing as he shook him roughly didn't help to quell the panic rising in his chest. He laid him down moments later and reeled back, a hand clasping his mouth.

His ears perked to the sound of rocks settling and he looked over his shoulder. In the distance, the toe of the rockslide seemed to bulge at first and then suddenly, a bloody hand burst from it. "Clay!" Dojo cried; he couldn't believe it and yet no one else at the temple had palms big as his.

The cowboy struggled as he tried pulling himself out of the jagged rocks, a painful whine causing him to pause for a moment before writhing again. Pebbles clattered to the ground when he pulled his boots free and Dojo watched as he tried remaining firm in those boots. But there was a wobble and Clay dropped to his knees with another painful whine.

Dojo had been slithering toward him, the smile from seeing Clay alive vanishing the closer he got. If Omi was a corpse then Clay was one that's been reanimated; bruised and battered, all that's left was for him to moan about brains. He flinched a little when the cowboy suddenly jerked up to see him, eyes widened in shock.

"D-Dojo, yer alive… oh thank God, yer alive!" Clay immediately rose to meet the dragon but after a couple of steps, the pain forced him to drop again. He doubled over and held his ribs tightly. "Jesus fuckin' Christ." he hissed.

"Easy there big guy," Dojo reached and caught him before he could keel over. With a grunt, he pushed Clay upright once more. "Glad you're okay, but let's take it easy now. You've just been buried six feet deep, and I don't want to see it become permanent the second time around." he warned.

The cowboy nodded dumbly and licked the blood from his lips. A frown creased his swollen brow moments later. "Where's… where's Omi?" Clay asked.

"He's over there, I can't seem to—" Dojo didn't get the chance to finish his sentence because Clay was already on his feet and hobbling over to the fallen monk. He slithered over as well and watched as Omi was carefully scooped into Clay's arms.

"Omi, c'mon now partner," Clay shook him a little and then tapped his cheek. His heart winced in fear when he didn't get a reaction; had his jump been all for nothing? "Omi! C'mon, get a hold of yerself! Ain't no way the Chosen One gets defeated this easily!" he snapped.

An eyebrow twitched and slowly Omi opened his eyes with a painful whine. His brow creased into a confused frown when seeing Clay and Dojo looming overhead, exasperated but very relieved. Before he could ask why they were gawking him like that, his face was pressed right into Clay's chest.

"Jesus Christ partner, 'ya gave us quite a fright!" the cowboy hugged him even tighter, a breathless laugh parting his bloody lips. Dojo looped around and planted several kisses on the back of Omi's head. "Oh, I just knew that big head of yours wouldn't crack that easy!" he thanked.

The merriment was cut short, however, when the monk wiggled out of his friend's tight grip. He wobbled a little before standing upright and placed both hands on his hips. His frown would've been more effective if it weren't for the dirtied clothes and black eye.

"This is no time for the hugging and kissing!" Omi reprimanded. His voice was sharper than a knife, his breath a little shaky from rising anger. "Where is Chase Young?!" he demanded.

Scurrying to his left, the monk glanced around before taking a swing at the air. He then darted to the right and slashed the air with a foot instead. "I will show him! I will show him who is weak and pathetic!" Omi growled.

Yet the Heylin warlord was nowhere to be seen. Neither was his lackey or the other Xiaolin monks for the matter. Blinking, Omi stood motionless for a moment and then glanced up to the falling ash, reality finally catching up to him.

Glancing over his shoulder, he looked at his friends and then at the pebbles bouncing down to the rockslide's toe. Dojo had managed to get Clay propped against a boulder, tugging off his bandana, and was working on the buttons of his shirt when Omi trotted back. "What happened?" he asked.

"Chase Young happened partner. That no-good scoundrel threw 'ya overboard," Clay trailed off with a hiss as Dojo opened his shirt. Both him and the monk winced at the sight of considerable bruising that covered the right side of his ribs. "I jumped after 'ya. Broke a couple of ribs, it seems." he smirked.

"I don't think so big guy," Dojo pressed a palm against the cowboy's right pectoral and then moved over his ribs. His ears perked to the way Clay breathed and he brushed some blood from a scrape. "At best, a couple are cracked, but nothing forking your lung." he observed.

Omi swallowed thickly, his stomach churning at his friend's injuries. It was unnerving seeing Clay – the biggest and strongest monk out of them all – in such a horrific state. "… Where are the others?" his voice was meek.

Dojo gave a shrug of the shoulders. Using his bandana, he cleaned the scrapes on Clay's left arm. "I don't know. You think they might've been captured?" the dragon suggested.

"Oh no, oh no," Omi reeled back with a whine, shaking his head. "This is all my fault..." he turned away in shame.

"How," Clay paused as he rose forward, jaw clenching to starve off the pain. Oh, he was definitely going to feel this in the morning. "How in tarnation is this all yer fault?" he huffed.

"If I had been better, I would not have been defeated by Shadow and her female willies," the monk dropped his knees. "Furthermore, Chase Young would not have won, neither would our friends been captured, and you injured." Omi sighed bitterly.

Dojo blinked a couple of times before his brow creased into a frown. He slithered over to Omi then, looping around to reach for his cheeks. "First of all, don't beat yourself up over this kiddo." the dragon cupped them gently.

"Secondly, you can't be everywhere at once. The last time you tried that, Jack Spicer won the showdown, and Master Fung made you clean all the crockery with a toothbrush for three weeks." Dojo reminded. He smiled when the monk looked him in the eye.

"Finally, with one defeat comes a thousand victories, y'know?" the dragon pointed out. "At least, that's how 'ole Blue Eyes would say it. Of course, in a better spin, mind you." Dojo chuckled.

Staggering to his feet, Clay hobbled over to the pair in a huff. "Partner, there's no way I could've just stayed idle and let that no-good varmint chuck 'ya like a sack of flour." he insisted, dropping to his knees again. He reached over and patted Omi's back several times.

"Don't worry about my injuries, I'll pull through," the cowboy patted his chest for good measure. "I'm just glad yer alive lil' buddy. Can't imagine the temple without my best friend." Clay smiled.

"My friends," Omi looked to them both, a smile growing on his face. He then took a deep breath and sighed, his confidence restored. "You both are right! I should not act so low in the landfill!" he cried.

"Uh, I reckon 'ya mean down in the dumps?" Clay corrected. Dojo snickered as Omi's finger wavered for a moment at the idiom. "That, too!" the monk nodded.

"Glad to have you back kiddo," Dojo gave him a high five before crossing his arms. "Now we just need to save our friends and the world before Chase Young plunges it into darkness. No biggie, right?" he grinned.

Silence fell as everyone tried formulating a respective game plan. Omi rubbed his chin while he pondered, brow creasing into a frown. How could they stop Chase Young; a master of Tai Chi and one brilliant warrior?

"Sacramento!" Omi snapped his fingers in elation. Ignoring the 'Eureka' from the cowboy, he patted himself down and reached into his robes. "Fear not my friends, for I have the solution right here!" he beamed, pulling out the Cheetah Claws.

"It is quite a cunning plan; if we can't defeat Chase Young in the present, perhaps we should learn how to defeat him in the past. Surely Grand Master Dashi would not mind the visit, right?" the monk proposed. Dojo was on board but Clay had his doubts, however.

"Hold on a sec, remember those claws aren't the most reliable now," he paused for a moment to spit blood aside. "If yer not careful, 'ya might end up in the middle of Romeo's serenade to Juliet. Without pants too, which makes it even more embarrassin'." Clay warned.

"Right, right, I think Dashi meant to tweak that particular issue…" Dojo trailed off with a nod and rubbed his chin. He'd always been a 'build first, ask questions later' type of guy. "But y'know, life is about risks, and I'd say we take this one!" the dragon insisted.

Omi opened his mouth to agree when a growl suddenly rumbled behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he turned and then gasped at the sight of cat warriors advancing through the ash. Their eyes burned with a fury that could've easily dried the felines' soggy fur.

Dojo screamed in horror and immediately slithered into Omi's robes. Omi retreated several steps before Clay scooped him into his arms. "I reckon it's a risk just stayin' here too!" he gulped.

With a roar, the cat warriors charged at the trio, intent on fulfilling their master's orders. Seeing their window of opportunity closing, Omi wiggled his arm out of the cowboy's grasp. "Cheetah Claws!" the monk cried.

The Shen Gong Wu shimmered for a moment and then a golden bubble grew from its paw. The bubble ballooned outwards and enveloped the trio within seconds. One cat warrior tried leaping at them with claws extended, only to bounce off the bubble in consequence.

Halting their assault, the felines watched as the bubble glowed brighter and brighter. Then came a bright flash and the cats turned to shield their eyes. But when they looked back, the bubble was gone, as were those Xiaolin monks.

Author's Notes

This chapter was a bit tricky, considering I don't write Omi as often as I do Clay. But after several attempts and a few encouraging words from friends, I think I nailed him pretty down. I do apologize for taking a while to publish this chapter. Sometimes you have other commitments that require your attention first!

Feedback is welcomed!