Summery: Warren Peace hated the hero, but loved the boy.
"William Stronghold, the heir to the Stronghold legacy. He's a hero-saves damsels in distress, fights monsters, and always get the girl…"
Warren scrunched the newspaper up, and with an annoyed flick of his wrist, immolated it in seconds.
He hated Stronghold.
Hated his smile.
Three days ago, Layla had finally succeeded in telling a funny joke-one that didn't have just peppy humor, but was dark in a way, funny in another, and completely mysterious in a third. Warren loved the joke, but all he did was smirk to himself. The smirk left his face when he saw Will smiling brightly. That damned smile.
He hated his laugh.
"Stronghold, shut up," Warren snapped last week. There was little malice in it, but he wished it had more, wished he could put more into it, because all Will did was laugh that golden boy laugh of his, with his teeth shining, eyes closed, and hair waving around. He swore that if he heard that laugh one more time, he was going to fireball somebody. Probably Layla. But not himself (he had more class than that), and not Will. Never Will. Besides, it wouldn't work, anyway.
He hated his (arrogantly) easy going nature.
"Will, please stay behind," Medulla ordered, his face stern but his eyes yielding. Will was failing mad science, as always. But he didn't care, not really, Warren knew that. He knew that Will's father would take care of it; he did need that class to graduate, and nobody was going to keep the Commander's son from graduating.
"Will! Don't ignore me! Will!" Layla had screeched at lunch, Will had exited the classroom, shoulders somewhat slumped.
"Layla, I'm not ignoring you. We've had this conversation a hundred times now. Things will work out. Come on, do you really expect me to fail, the Commanders son?" he asked. The last two sentences were said with a slight bitter tone, and it was so faint that Warren was sure that Layla didn't notice it. She was too caught up in the hero act, everyone was. Warren started hating him more then, the hero. Fucking golden boy.
He hated his modesty.
"That was probably one of the best Save The Citizen maneuvers ever! You even got Coach Boomer's approval, I mean, how great is that?"ﾝ Ethan gushed during last week's gym class.
"Yo, that was totally off the… fizzle… dude!" Zack tried to approve in his own slang, but stumbled a little. He was outgrowing his wannabe gangster phase. Ethan shook his head behind Zack's back.
"It was just luck, ya know. Warren helped too," Will admitted. They didn't care about that. They just congratulated him, smiled at him, and did everything to reassure him that he was worth the praise. As if he didn't know.
He hated his kindness.
"Shit, I'm going to be late again, damn it!" a girl cursed as her books went tumbling out of her hands. Warren smirked from the corner as the freshman quickly tried to pick up her stuff. She was feisty, he liked that. But then that… that hero had to come and help her.
"Here let me help, I'll walk you to class, they'll let you off easy, trust me. It's your first year here, just say you got lost," Will advised her, scrambling to help pick up her things. The girl giggled quietly and walked off with him. Warren could tell she thought he was cute. Damn that perfect bastard...damn him to hell!
But most of all, Warren hated, hated, hated his perfect family life.
"Will, my boy! My wonderful, perfect boy! Isn't this great, the whole family… just sitting here! Together! The Stronghold Three!" Warren growled as he heard the booming voice from his hiding spot in the bushes near the living room window. He came here a lot to spy on them, a sort of morbid fascination with their perfect little life.
"Why are you backing away, Will! My perfect son, don't you dare run away! You stupid excuse for a son! Get back here!" yelled the Commander. Warren cringed. It was one of those nights. He was pretty sure they were perfect, even with the Commander's lapses. Best to ignore it he kept telling himself, lest he start to pity the golden boy.
But...he couldn't help it.
He loved Will.
He loved his shyness.
"Warren! But… it's your mom, what if she doesn't, ya know, approve?" Will asked when they first started this...thing...three weeks ago. His eyes were so frightened that Warren felt like laughing. This was his mother, his sweet, understanding mother, not his father. Damn his father. Warren smiled and pushed Will toward the door.
He loved his sarcasm.
"Yes, Warren, because fire will always burn and water will disappear just because you said so. If that's how it is, then yes, the world does revolve around you," Will said dryly. He watched as Warren's hand twitched as if he wanted to ignite, but he was holding himself back. Will smirked; he loved the power of sarcasm.
He loved his independence.
They looked at Will differently when he started to wear not all white, red, and blue. They wondered what had happened, what turned the American colors to black, blue, and sometimes even pink. The pink made them look up the most. Could it be? The son of the Commander and Jetstream, gay? Never. They confronted him about it, tried to figure out why. But the more they asked, the more Will kept on wearing pink, sometimes adding a bit of darker colors, until essentially he always was wearing pink. Nobody knew the true reason why, except Warren. Warren always knew.
He loved his wit.
Warren laughed and then quickly covered his mouth. Will looked up in surprise, then broke into his own laughter. Warren looked over at his…what was Will to him, exactly? He didn't know anymore, and he didn't feel like finding out, because what they had was just perfect.
He loved his knack for knowing exactly what to say to calm him down.
Warren fired himself up, letting the rage sweep over him, letting the flames consume him completely. He hadn't been so angry since freshman year. It was scary but he felt so powerful, so in control. He let it burn.
"Are you gonna attack us now, too? Just like your dad, huh? You and that Stronghold boy are never going to have peace, never. I'll always be there. C'mon, attack me, boy. Kill me. You know you want to," came the taunts. Warren smiled and created a fireball.
"Warren! Fine, go ahead, be like your father. Prove them right; prove to them that you can kill him. Go on, Warren; show them what you've got! Or are you too scared?" Will yelled, his anger practically radiating off of him in waves, but he stayed on the sidelines, afraid of getting burnt. Warren felt the fire in his words, in Will's body, and he couldn't help but turn towards it, intrigued.
"What are you waiting for? Kill him, 'Ren. Go ahead," Will urged, his eyes never left Warren's. Will turned around and waited for the screams to start, but instead he felt Warren's cooled arms wrap around him.
"I don't want to be my father, Will…I don't. Please believe me, please," Warren wanted to say, to, make Will believe him, but rage had stolen his voice. All he could do was try to hold back the tears. After a few tense moments of silence, Will twisted in the embrace and returned it ardently.
But most of all, Warren loved his way of hiding everything and then exploding into an inferno of fiery destruction(1)… but only in front of him.
Warren could tell Will was fed up with all the smiling, the laughter, the lies. He could tell he wanted to scream and yell but he kept it in. Kept it in so well that even, sometimes, Warren found himself believing the lies he wanted so badly to be true.
"You're not falling for it, are you, 'Ren?" Will whispered when they were alone. His eyes rested on the illusion of shingles on the roof.. The advantage of being able to fly was that you didn't have to worry about missing the bus.
"No," Warren simply replied. Will looked over at him and laughed. It wasn't real, Warren could tell, but he wanted to believe it was. Oh, how he wanted to believe that Will could laugh like that all the time.
"I'm serious, Warren! You're supposed to be the smart one! The one that doesn't fall for the bull! Please, don't tell me you're falling for it too, please Warren. Please," Will pleaded. He faced Warren, his eyes begging for him to see through everything again, just like always, to be able to read him like an open book. To make him live again. Warren reached through the walls of fire that was causing his...his...his Will so much pain, he reached over to grab Will's hand and pull him out of hell.
"I can see through it, Will, I can,"Warren promised as he pulled the smaller boy to him.
Warren Peace hated the hero, but he loved the boy.
(1) Ok, yeah that's so uber cliché but COME ON, it… just fits, you know, pyro, fire, pyro, fire! You see it? You don't see it? Fine fine, but I'm still keeping it.
I wrote this in Spanish and posted it again, rewritten. I'm kinda happier with this, but think it needs more work. But then again, no writer is ever completely happy with their work Sandshrew777 was my beta for this, he helped me figure out a few parts and some of the fluffy moments were perfected by him. I know a lot of people are going to be like "the Commander would never do that" but as Sandshrew777 said "I'm not sure he would really do that, but then again, the Commander wasn't faced with a gay son in the movie who can't pass mad science." So yeah… it's a fanfic deal with that fact that maybe something will happen that would never happen in the movie.
I love Will/Warren, and don't like Warren/Layla, it's just too cliché. Bad boy and good girl. Come on, isn't that cliché? Anyway, please review.
Warmest regards,
TheSlytherinMuggle