Crash!

Everything went pitch-black in a snap. Everything had been completely lit and calm in Albert's apartment, but, as it was storming, it was inevitable that the lights would go out.

Jet knew that too well, and was anxious as every minute passed. He held back a yelp as the lights went out. If the lights didn't come back on soon, then he was going to completely flip out. And even worse; Albert was going to know one of his darkest secrets that he had hid for as long as he could.

"Oh, dammit." Albert sighed, obviously frustrated. "Now I can't see where the hell the flashlight is."

Jet froze. He couldn't see anything at all; just complete darkness. Thoughts raced through his mind like wildfire. What if it wasn't the storm? What if somebody was breaking into their house? Maybe it was a poltergeist? What if someone was trying to take him back into the whole 00 Cyborg Rebellion and get their revenge on him? There were too many thoughts that came all at once. Dear God, he thought he was going to be sick.

"Jet! Do you know where the flashlights are?" Albert called from the other room. Jet tried to respond while hiding his panicky voice; which was basically a total failure.

"U-um… this is y-y-your apartment… y-you should… know…!" He tried to act moody and tough, but it was all a sad attempt.

"Well, I'm not asking you to know the freaking blueprints of my room, but… hey, you sound kind of nervous. You okay?" The German questioned worriedly.

"What? Do you think I'm scared of the dark like some five year old, Heinrich? It's nothing." Jet replied roughly, regaining the edge to his voice.

"Okay, I know you're in the bedroom, let me just-" Bump!"Ow! Let me just find out exactly where you are."

The darkness became more and more overwhelming, as Jet's past and incidents with the dark came back to him. His memories began to put him in a trance of horror in shock. This lasted for a long time, until…

"Jet, wake up!" Albert shook Jet vigorously by the shoulders, trying to wake him. As soon as the horrible flashback ended, Jet woke up. With Albert rattling him, the similarity to that horrible experience was too much for comfort. He wriggled out of Albert's grip violently, climbing to the middle of the bed and cowering.

"Jet… what the hell's wrong?" Albert asked. "You look as though I'm trying to gag you or something."

The word 'gag' made Jet try very, very hard to not scream in fear from the memories. He feverishly climbed closer to the edge of the bed, a few squeals of terror escaping from his lips.

"What the- Jet, what is wrong? I was just kidding around; you know that." The German comforted, placing a hand on the redhead's back. "It's okay."

Jet began to ease his tensed body, relaxing into Albert's touch. "'M sorry… it's nothing. Let's just find the flashlight so we can see where we are."

"Not until I get an answer from you. Why were you staring into space and looking like someone was standing in front of you with a knife? Why did you nearly flip your lid when I was just making some crappy simile?"

"…"

"Jet. Explain. You're acting like you're horrified of the dark or something."

"…"

"That's it, isn't it? You're afraid of the dark?"

"…"

"Well? Is that it or not?"

"…"

"I promise I won't make fun of you, and I won't tell anyone. Is that the problem here?"

"…. Promise?"

"Of course, Jet. I won't tell anyone, and I won't crack a single joke about it. Won't even giggle."

"Then… yeah, that's the problem…"

"Well… maybe I could help you with this. Is there any particular reason in which you're uncomfortable?" Albert inquired, trying to soothe his worried lover.

"Well… it's kind of a long story, but…"

FLASHBACK

Everything was completely peaceful in the household. Jet was only 5 at the time, and surprisingly had no trouble with any light being out… for now.

His mother, Gina, and father, Jacob, were fast asleep in the twin beds. Unfortunately for them, they were still planning to install their security system after their dear bloodhound, B.J., had been hit by a car. It seemed as though B.J. had been hit on purpose by somebody they couldn't see. Jet had complained to his parents that B.J. was killed by someone who wanted it to die, but his parents didn't want to believe a word of it. Little did they know that it was all staged.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang on the door. Jet shot straight up in his bed with his eyes wide. He tried to relax himself, repeating that it was just the wind. After he had repeated the 5 words until he couldn't understand them, he fell asleep.

Then, the door quietly creaked open. A rather odd- looking person dressed from head-to-toe in black crept inside. He held a gym back over his shoulder that carried a bottle of heavy alcohol, a rag, and other disturbing items.

"First it was B.J… now it's that little punk's turn." He said to himself quietly. He found the entrance to the 5-year-old's room, turned the knob ever-so-quietly, and slinked inside the room. He took the rag and bottle of alcohol out of his bag, and damped the cloth with the lethal substance.

He loomed over Jet, who was sound asleep. He held the rag above the boy's mouth and nostrils. Jet stirred as he smelled something awfully strong. As soon as his eyes opened, the man grabbed the back of Jet's head and wrapped the cloth around his face. It all seemed so fast and horrifying; someone was holding something against him and it smelled horrible, it felt as though someone was trying to hurt him, and he couldn't see anything. Everything was completely dark. He could only use 4 of the 5 senses available, which freaked him out.

Jet's desperate screams were muffled as his vision began to blur.

"Shut up, you brat!" The man spat hatefully. "You'd better pipe down or I'm gonna snap your neck!"

Jet continued to thrash wildly and scream. God, he was so afraid. Then, the man pulled out a syringe filled with a deadly poison.

"If you dare scream, then I'll kill you."

Jet felt a prick in his wrist, and cried out in pain. The sensation felt so similar to that of a flu shot. Almost instantly, Jet felt as though his head would explode, and moaned. He tried to move, but he couldn't. It felt as though his lungs were closing in on themselves, and his breath came in short, laboured gasps.

"What do you think, runt?" The evil person spat. "It's a little toy I like to play with called 'salmonella'. This stuff should shut you up so I can have some fun with you."

Jet's eyes snapped wide open in shock. He tried to scream out, but instead vomited all over the place. Even his captor.

"Why you little... aw hell, I'll end this now."

The man pulled a large hatchet from his bag, and raised it above Jet's head.

"My regards to B.J." The evil captor cackled madly. He was just about to bring the knife down...

A loud gunshot echoed through the room. Jet couldn't see, but he heard the man's voice came out in short pieces, and fell over to the ground. The smell of nasty alcohol vanished, and was replaced by a sound of thick blood being spewed out of the gun wound.

The light turned on, and Jet saw his father standing there with a shotgun in his hand. His mother was standing behind him with a frantic look upon her beautiful features.

"Son, are you okay?" Jacob asked worriedly as Gina ran over to her son.

Gina held Jet close, studying his features with a look of horror. "Jacob, look at him! I think... I think he's poisoned! Call a 911, now!"

Jacob nodded, and charged to the nearest telephone. In about 5 minutes, the loud sound of sirens wailing filled the neighborhood. Jacob picked Jet's frail body up into his arms, and quickly carried him out to the ambulances and gurneys awaiting him. The medics quickly took Jet, placed him on an awaiting gurney. They examined his body, murmuring something about poisoning and infections. Gina looked down at her son, bewildered and praying for the best for her son. But just before they placed the oxygen mask above Jet's mouth, the boy murmured:

"I told you. It was the same man who killed B.J. You didn't listen."

And with that, they carried him to the back of the ambulance and drove him away.

END FLASHBACK

"Oh my God… that's awful… I'm so sorry…" Alert breathed. He wrapped his arms around Jet and pulled him in to his chest, doing whatever he could to soothe him.

Tears began to stream down Jet's cheeks as he nestled into Albert's chest. God, he felt so weak and pathetic.

"I'm sorry… for being so weak…" He said miserably.

"Jet… don't apologize about this sort of thing. I know how to help you overcome this fear." Albert said comfortingly. "Do you want me to?"

"That'd be nice…" Jet muttered.

"Close your eyes." Albert instructed, releasing his grip from Jet and leaving him on his own. Jet did as instructed.

"Now, what do you see?"

"I see… you. You and everyone else…"

"Is it bright?"

"Somewhat… yeah, it is."

"Are you comfortable there?"

"Uh-huh…"

"Open your eyes."

Jet slowly opened his eyes, only to feel that the darkness wasn't as threatening as before.

"Do you feel better now?" Albert asked.

"A little…" Jet replied.

Alert felt his way around the bet, then found and grasped Jet's hand.

"Here; let's get up."

Albert rose up from off of the bed, pulling Jet up along with him. Jet tensed; now this was feeling a bit more like before.

"Just hold on to my hand; we'll find our way out of here. Slow and steady." Albert knew the path out by heart. Jet didn't.

Jet held Albert's hand tightly as they exited the room. As soon as they made it, as if on cue, the lights powered back up and the house was lit.

Then, Jet could see Albert's face clearly. Words simply couldn't be said to explain the moment.

The two joined in a tight embrace, each one holding another closely. No words in any language nor dictionary could describe that instant.

"I'm going to bed, alright?" Jet said quietly as they parted.

Albert nodded. Jet walked off. Before the American walked back into the bedroom, he turned over to Albert. He gazed into the silver haired man's pale blue eyes.

"Thank you."