A/N: Hey there. I feel like I've been lacking some creativity and I haven't really wrote much lately. But just a few days ago, I beat AC and AC2 and god damn, there is a huge difference between the games. I will admit, I liked AC2 better because I felt like there was more characters and more character development. Also, I loved Shaun. He was so sarcastic and such a hard ass it made me really think about his character. How did he get there? Why did he become who he was? The only thing I could think about was the betrayal of his best friend – the reason why he takes an immediate dislike to Desmond. So I was putting together a mix for some ShaunDes and then this idea hit me. It's my first time doing a character development, so I hope you guys like it!
Never Again
His heart throbbed with excitement as he made his way down the steps of his home, rushing out the door. He could only wave his parents a goodbye as he flew down the stone steps and squinted his chocolate brown eyes as the golden sunlight blinded him momentarily. He adjusted his thin black framed glasses, running a hand through his hair, which was the same colour as his eyes. As his Converse hit the pavement, he began to run down the street, the rare British summer's heat trailing behind him. The breeze felt nice on his face, his lips grinning from ear to ear. He hadn't been this excited since he found that giant book in the library, The Renaissance of Italy, Volume I. He didn't understand half the words but that was alright, because that's what the dictionary was for. Ever since, he had been looking for the second copy but to no avail, he couldn't find it.
The sixteen year old made his way to the beach, where his friend was waiting for him with important news. His shoelace was untied and he was afraid to fall but he was trying to make it down as fast as he could without stopping. In the distance, he could see a lone figure sitting on the sandy shore. It had to be him. As he made his way down the boardwalk, the figure turned around to watch the running lunatic trip on the last section of the stairs and into the sand.
"Shaun!" The figure laughed and ran over, taking his sweet time. Shaun sat up, wiping the grains of sand off his face. "Your shoe is untied."
"I know but I had to make here as fast as I could! When you say something's important, you really mean it!" He beamed, taking off his shoes quickly. He placed them under the boardwalk, knowing that no one would take them – as there was no one else around. He placed them next to Eric's. He turned around to see that the boy had made his way back to his previous position, sitting beside something. Curious, Shaun made his way over quickly and the closer he got, the larger his smile became.
"Ta-dah!" Eric beamed, picking up the heavy book beside him. Renaissance of Italy, Volume II & III.
"N-no way!" Shaun flopped down beside his friend, feeling the sand run through his toes. He took the book from his friend and eagerly flipped through the pages. They were thick, well made and everything was written in such detail that Shaun couldn't help but feel a little dizzy. He had it; he had all the editions in his hands.
"You're welcome," Eric added with a chuckle, lying down to stare at the azure sky.
Shaun blushed, feeling selfish. "Sorry! Thank you!" The book was huge. How did he carry it all the way over here? Eric was scrawny, just like himself. "Where did you get it...?" He placed the book on the ground, careful not to let sand get in between the pages.
"I was out with my dad at a flea shop and I found it on this table. Cost me two week's allowances, but your expression was definitely worth it," he grinned, watching Shaun as he lied down beside him. Already, Eric's blonde hair was coated with sand, his bright blue eyes sparkling in the light of the sun. Hearing the ocean water move below them was calming Shaun down – he composed himself and felt his heart begin to beat at a steady pace once again.
"Shaun, can I ask you something?" Eric asked, his voice uneasy. It was probably something to do with Madison – the girl he had liked since ninth grade. Shaun had taken an interest in her in grade eight but she never even glanced at him the whole year. She was definitely the most beautiful girl at their school; with her blonde ringlets of hair falling over her small shoulder and striking emerald green eyes. She had passion in art – just as Shaun had with history. After being ignored for almost half a year, he finally gave up and went back to his textbooks and resided to Eric, whom he had met in grade one.
***
"Stop!" Shaun yelled, stopping Eric from filling his mouth with a bottle full of paste.
"Why?" The boy looked disappointed, thinking that sticky white liquid looked rather appetizing.
"Because!" He replied, taking the bottle from him. "Use it to glue the papers, you silly tosser," he giggled, continuing on his own art project.
"Shaun Hastings! Where did you hear that word?" Mrs. Callahan narrowed her eyes, appearing out of thin air.
"What word?" He asked innocently. He could feel Eric staring absent mindlessly at the teacher beside him.
"The 't' word!" She shrilled, thinking how inappropriate it was for second graders to speak like that. Next thing it would be 'wanker' or 'a stupid twat'.
"Oh! I hear daddy say it at the football game," he smiled, missing his right front tooth.
"My daddy watches football too!" Eric added in randomly, smiling at Shaun. The teacher heaved a heavy sigh and shook her head disapprovingly at Shaun, who had no idea what he had done wrong.
"Don't let me hear you say that again, Shaun," she added in a stern tone before she walked over, stopping another child from devouring the paste. Shaun tucked his head down, looking at his art project, which consisted of macaroni glued on a sheet of black paper.
"I like Manchester United."
Shaun's head jerked up and he looked at Eric, who had finally taken his paste back and was gluing his macaroni in a random pattern -whereas Shaun had taken them and started to make a picture of people with horses and spears.
"Oi! Me too! Daddy likes Liverpool but shhh, this will be our little secret, okay?" He smiled mischievously, holding out his pinkie finger.
"Promise," Eric said as he locked their pinkies together.
***
"Yeah sure, go ahead," Shaun replied, sitting up. He looked at the water, which looked so cool and inviting. He waited for Eric to ask his question, but his mouth only hung open slightly, as if he was wanting to speak but couldn't. "C'mon, out with it you silly twat," he chuckled, getting to his feet. He ran down the beach to the ocean, feeling the sand press between his toes. Behind him, Eric had jolted upright to see Shaun running down the beach to the water – was he running away? Eric got up and followed him and shivered when his feet finally met with the water. It was cold but as he got used to it as he waded out further to where Shaun was. Up to his thighs in the water, Shaun smiled at Eric.
"Well... I just wanted to ask you..." His mouth opened and closed but once again, no words came out. Rolling his eyes, Shaun splashed Eric, watching the water soak through his clothes. "Oi!"
"C'mon! Just ask me! Is it about Madison?" He smirked, trying to avoid Eric's revenge.
"No! It's just... what would you do if your best friend was gay?" The words tumbled quickly out of his mouth and he could feel and the playfulness around them area wash away in the ocean. He stood still, bent over as he was just about to splash his friend again. Water lapped at his legs, causing him to sway uneasily back and forth with the current.
"I... what brings that up?" Shaun couldn't meet his eye.
"I don't know... I was just, y'know... asking..." He frowned, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Shaun took a deep breath and looked up at his friend, searching his eyes for the true answer. Quickly, he found it.
"You're... one of them...?" He asked skeptically. His best friend was, as his father put it, a fag...?
Eric closed his eyes, trying to remain calm. The sound of the surrounding ocean engulfed him, making his stomach churn. "Well... Yes."
The answer rung in his ears, causing him to feel a bit sick to his stomach. He had to get out of there. "I have to get home. Um, homework. Sorry."
"That's all you have to say?" Eric cried out in disbelief. Shaun was already making his way back to the shore, unaware of Eric, who was behind him closely. He could feel the shame growing inside of him, burning brightly.
"What else do you want me to say?" He turned around, voice irritatingly high.
"I want you to say that you're okay with it!" Eric snapped back, grabbing Shaun's wrists. He felt his heart pound inside his head as blood rushed to his cheeks evidently. He was still as Eric leaned in, pressing their lips together. Water licked their heels, rolling back and returning seconds later. His stomach did back flips and somersaults, shivers running through his whole body. Eric pulled away, his eyes filled with doubt. Shaun knew what he was thinking - knew his intentions all along. He had found out his own, well hidden secret with a single kiss.
"I... I'm sorry. But I really have to finish that homework," Shaun shook his head and pulled away. He turned to see two girls standing a couple of feet away with their hands over their mouths. Shaun avoided their judgmental stares, grabbed his sneakers and ran down the boardwalk, eyes stringing with tears.
- - -
Yeah he kissed him and now he's all freaked out.
Shaun kissed Eric?
Yeah, what a queer.
Ew, that's disgusting.
A week later and the whispers hadn't died down a bit. He hadn't seen Eric around and he was constantly under the malign of his fellow students. How could it have come to this? Everywhere he went, someone was whispering behind his back – and they didn't even have it right! Eric kissed him. But he couldn't say that because whenever he tried, the words wouldn't come out. But it didn't matter because people never gave him time to present his side of the story. Over the course of the next few days, he found himself slowly turning into a different person. His replies were bitter or sarcastic and his lips would hardly find themselves smiling.
Days went by quickly, all becoming a blur of the same mundane tasks. Get up, go to the school, come home, do homework, watch a Liverpool game with his dad, eat supper, read and go to bed. A month ago, he never thought he would have been relieved to hear it but when his dad brought it up at the dinner table, he couldn't help but sigh with contentment. It had been weeks since he had felt content, or even happy, and his dad even turned his head to look at him.
"They want me to move to America. I know it's suddenly but... will you guys come with me?" He smiled at his wife, then at Shaun.
"Yes," Shaun said without a second thought.
"Shaun! That was a quick answer," his mother smiled, stroking her boy's hair. He jerked away, spearing his pork. He merely shrugged in reply.
- - -
"We're leaving for the airport in thirty minutes so you have time to say any goodbyes, son," his father smiled at him, ruffling his hair. Shaun rolled his eyes and slipped on his jacket, feeling chilly in the fresh autumn air. He made his way back to the beach, where it had all happened. He walked along the boardwalk, remembering all the times he had walked here with Eric or his family. This would be the last time. As the beach came into view, he noticed it was empty except for a lone figure lying down in the dry, loose sand. Reluctantly, he continued and walked down the steps, not bothering to take off his shoes. It was too cold for that. As he got closer, he noticed the familiar blonde hair and fitting black sweater. Hearing his arrival, Eric sat up and looked at Shaun.
"You're leaving, huh?" He spoke solemnly, turning his head to look back at the ocean. Shaun hesitantly walked closer to him.
"Yeah. How'd you know I'd come here?" He frowned, taking a seat next to him. The sand was colder than it had been just a few weeks ago – it was amazing how some things changed so drastically and so quickly.
"Just... a lucky guess I suppose."
Shaun lapsed into silence but then noticed something was beside Eric. As he looked closer, something close to a smile appeared his face. The Renaissance of Italy, Volume II & III was lying beside Eric and he caught his eye, picked it up, and handed it to him.
"Maybe you can read it on the plane."
"Yeah..." He ran his fingers across the hardcover, feeling the texture of the front cover and the bumps of the text. "Why did you lie to them?"
Eric looked back at the ocean, biting his lip. He opened his mouth, but shut it. He took in a deep breath. "Because I didn't want people knowing I was gay. I mean, you're not! I just... I was selfish and I didn't want to suffer so-"
"So you unload it all on me. Make me feel like shit for weeks! You were my best friend, and then all of a sudden you were my worst enemy!" Shaun snapped, stumbling to get up. He couldn't say it – not now, not ever. He couldn't let anyone know his secret that he was so ashamed of. "So was Madison just a cover? A lie?"
"Yes." He hadn't expected him to actually tell the truth. He wanted to him to tell him did like her and that this was just a phase; that he was going to marry a beautiful woman and have a family. "You actually helped me find myself."
"I did what?" Shaun scowled, holding the book tightly to his chest. Eric blushed and pried his eyes from his friend, overlooking the ocean as it lapped at the shore.
"If it wasn't for you – I wouldn't have known," he whispered quietly, so quiet that the wind blew it away and Shaun had to strain his ears to hear. So it was his fault that his best friend had fallen for him and then betrayed him. Adjusting his glasses, Shaun nodded at him slowly and began to turn around.
"Well... see you later," Eric mumbled, not bothering to look at the boy he no longer knew.
Shaun winced as he began to walk away, leaving his friend alone on the beach – truly alone. No one else had witnessed their goodbyes, so Eric would be free of slander. He picked up the pace once he hit the stairs and began to run as fast as he could, book in his arms. It reminded him of the day it all started, Converse against the wooden boardwalk but instead with warmth it was replaced with coldness.
A coldness that wouldn't leave him even as his flight landed in America and his years to come.
