Chill people. Will, Warren, and Gene are all in their mid- to late-twenties, so they're of age. And Gene is mine, despicable as he is. If you want to borrow him anyway, you have only to ask. Oh, and this ficlet was inspired by the Phantom of the Opera song "All I Ask of You."

DISCLAIMER: I own nada. As in, nada thing.

Let Me Be Your Freedom

by Kari Anna

Will's heart was hammering away at his ribs, and his stomach felt like it wasn't just full of butterflies, but like it had become one.

Warren knows.

He had known Warren would find out sooner or later. Will had expected Warren to be furious. He'd expected Warren to come in and stage a dazzling, blazing rescue that would leave the walls scorched and the furniture in ashes.

But he hadn't expected this.

In the middle of the destroyed living room, Warren quietly suggested to the terrified figure beneath him, "You may want to leave, and never see Will again."

The young man nodded, scrambled to his feet as Warren backed off him a little, and ran out the door, barely sparing a frightened, angry glance over his shoulder.

Silently, Warren checked Will's bruised body over for broken bones or other serious damage. His right wrist was broken, and at least a few of his ribs were bruised. As soon as he'd finished, Warren engulfed the still slightly smaller man in a gentle hug, careful of Will's ribs. The smoky, spicy smell that Will associated with his pyrogeneric friend was comforting, especially after the violent mayhem his life had been for the past two years. He relaxed and laid his head on the older man's shoulder.

"We should go to the hospital," Warren whispered near Will's ear after a moment.

"I know." Will made no move to get up. He was so tired. Living with Gene and crimefighting-- mostly the former-- had really taken it out of him.

Warren shifted slightly, scooting back against the charred wall nearest the two of them, and got comfortable. A question tugged relentlessly at his mind, and he voiced it. "Why did you let him do this to you?"

The warmth of Will's breath tickled Warren's neck as the younger man shook his head.

"Will."

A brief, pregnant pause. "How did you find out?"

He hated it when Will answered a question with another question. Nonetheless, he answered, hoping that Will would run out of ways to avoid the subject. "Layla was worried. You hardly ever call her anymore, and she said you'd been going out with Gene and that you'd told your parents you were just roomies. She blamed Gene for you suddenly freezing her-- and everyone else-- out. Said you were hardly talking to anyone. I figured something was up, and so did she."

"My parents--"

"Are still clueless," Warren promised, as Will tilted his head to look up at the other man. Will breathed a sigh of relief. "Wanna answer my question now?"

"Not really," Will said, laying his head on Warren's shoulder again. His tone said he'd given up avoidance though. He took a deep breath. "Okay," he said shakily. "Uhm... well, when you graduated I felt kind of... I don't know. My best friend was off at college, you know? And I was here. The rest of the group was here-- except Ethan-- but I just felt kind of alone. And I was being pushed to constantly be in charge. All the time, after you left. Then Gene came along, and he seemed nice enough. We were friends for maybe a month before we started... you know, going out, but in secret. I mean, a lot of people would have been pretty mad if they found out I was bi. My dad, for starters. Anyway, Gene just took the lead whenever we were out together. He never asked, he just... took charge. At first I got mad about it. The first time we kissed, he didn't ask, or look for any sign that I wanted that. He just shoved me up against the tree outside my window and kissed me.

"After a while though, I stopped fighting it when he did things like that. Gene knew I hated how I was always being pushed into leadership. I don't mind, except that it's all the time. So it was kind of nice to let someone else take charge. And then he was calling me when I got up in the morning and telling me what shirt to wear and what shampoo to use. After highschool, we both decided to go to Southern Oregon University, and we moved in together. For a while, it was nice, but then Gene started getting abusive. He'd tell me to stay home and watch the Sci-Fi channel, and I'd say I wanted to go out with the group, and he'd hit me. I never hit back because I knew I could hurt him a lot worse than he could hurt me, and I was afraid I'd lose control, you know? And then I know it doesn't make sense, but I was scared of him. Sometimes he was the nice person I got to know in my senior year, and sometimes..." Will shrugged.

"Sometimes he did this to you," Warren said quietly, index finger tracing the yellowing outline of a bruise on Will's cheek. Will nodded against his shoulder.

"Lately he's been doing that a lot more. A few weeks ago he said he knew I wasn't going anywhere, so why should he bother being lovey-dovey when he already owned me?"

That attitude made Warren's stomach turn, and he said with quiet ferocity, "That won't be happening again. No one is ever going to treat you like that again."

Will closed his eyes, his fists clutching the material of Warren's t-shirt.

"Will?" He gently guided the younger man's head so he could face Will. "Open your eyes, please."

Gene never said please, was the fleeting thought in Will's mind as he complied with the request. Tears were pooled in his eyes, though he hadn't shed one yet.

"It's okay now. He can't stop you from anything you want to do. You don't have to keep a brave face with me," Warren said with the same soft, soothing tone he used in the job that was his cover: horse-whispering.

And the dam broke. Warren was there: to brush away the tears, to hold him, to tell him everything was going to be okay now. Will soaked it up like sunshine after an exceptionally long and stormy winter. When Will's tears were finally spent, Warren tucked Will's head under his chin.

"So you said you started hanging out with this Gene creep after I left?"

"Yeah," came the wearily voiced answer, muffled by Warren's neck.

"So do you... maybe you..."

Will smiled tiredly, but with genuine amusement and happiness. He pulled back enough to see Warren's face. "Yeah, I was in love with you, even though I didn't know it. I still am."

Warren had the impulse to kiss Will, but remembered the other's earlier comment about how Gene had never looked for consent, had just taken what he wanted. "Can I kiss you then?"

"Anytime," Will murmured, his smile widening.

An aura of warmth caressed Will's skin as a sweet, tender passion built in the kiss. For the first time in two years, Will felt warm. This was where he belonged.