Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice, nor the characters used in this story.
(A/N): For my habibi boo :* (Title credits to Twenty One Pilots - March to the Sea)
Also, warning: rape mentions
Will couldn't take it. He felt like he was suffocating.
Abruptly, he stood, stepping around the chair Halt sat in, and keeping his back to Pauline, Alyss, Horace, and Rodney. Shoving his hands into his pockets to hide his shaking, Will walked towards the door, muttering as he went: "'Scuse me."
The silence behind him was nearly sharp enough to cut, and he knew they were all watching him. Instead of acknowledging it, Will opened the front door to the cabin, and stepped outside. He would tell Halt later that he just needed to catch his breath or something similar. Maybe Halt wouldn't take that excuse for walking out on the discussion, but honestly? He really didn't care at the moment.
He needed out.
Gasping for the breath he had held in, Will stumbled to the steps. Practically collapsing against the railing column, the apprentice sat down heavily on the top step, leaning on the post as he continued to search for oxygen.
Slowly but surely, air trickled into his lungs. It was quite obvious that it was a trick of his mind, convincing him that something was blocking his air flow—but he couldn't help it. He had felt the need for breath in the absence of it, and sought to fulfill that need.
Will didn't know for how long he had sat on the steps.
The door creaked open behind him, light but not silent footsteps stepping onto the porch. The door was shut before the footsteps moved once more.
"Will," Alyss's voice came from behind him, laced with concern. Her hand landed on his hunched shoulder, making him flinch despite his knowing who it was and that she was there.
Wow, I truly am falling apart, he thought to himself. And now Alyss is here to see it all. Shame filled his body, and he curled in on himself, hunching his back over and hugging his knees.
"Will, are you okay?" she whispered, her hands curling tighter around his shoulder.
Taking a gulp of air, Will worked up a sheepish smile, and lifted his head to face her. "I'm fine, Alyss. Just needed some air," he gestured back to the closed door, "You should probably go back inside. Two of the three apprentices shouldn't be missing whatever is going on in there."
Instead of taking his hint, Alyss narrowed her eyes. Her nails dug into his skin through his thin shirt, and stayed there.
Tucking her skirt against her with her free hand, Alyss moved around beside him, and plopped herself on the step. Only then did she release her tight grip on his shoulder. "What's bothering you, Will? It's been a full year since you've gotten back from Skandia, and since then you've been . . . quiet. You've barely spoken about what happened there, and even then, you only speak about what happened when Halt and Horace found you." She eyed him, concern furrowing her eyebrows. "What's bothering you?" she repeated.
Instead of answering, Will once more glanced towards to closed door. "Nothing, Alyss. I'm fine," he murmured.
The courier apprentice pursed her lips. "Will, I have known you all my life. You may be a good lier, but I know how you lie. What's bothering you?"
Taking her brusqueness in stride, Will shrugged. "I don't know, maybe I felt faint and wanted to catch my breath, and now someone is bothering me so I can't."
Mimicking his master, Alyss raised an eyebrow. She nudged him with her shoulder. "C'mon Will," Alyss said, studying his body rather than his face. "I know you. Something's up."
Will turned away without responding. He tucked his head back down, resting his chin on his knees and looking forward. Realizing that she probably wasn't getting anything out of him, Alyss looked away, down to her feet, and then up into the clearing that Will was so intently watching.
It was a good half hour before either of them spoke again.
"What do you even know?" Will murmured, picking at the cloth of his pants.
Alyss frowned, and glanced at him. "About?"
"Skandia. What happened there. What do you know?"
She considered the question for a moment, before straightening up. "Basically, only what I've gotten from Halt and Horace. But they weren't with you before they came, Will."
"But what did they tell you, exactly?"
Stretching out her legs, Alyss leaned forward, clasping her hands on her lap. "Well . . ." She thought for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "Halt said that they found you during a hopeless fight. You—no, Princess Cassandra—she was being attacked. And you shot at her attackers, and they came after you. They intervened in time." Alyss picked at the step she sat on. "After being reunited, the two of you told Halt that the Skandian who had taken you—what's his name?"
"Erak," Will said immediately, a smile playing at his lips. "His name is Erak."
"Well, Erak had helped you escape. He gave you supplies and a pony, and a place to stay until thaw. And you, Halt, Horace, and Princess Cassandra decided to stay and help with the invasion. I don't know much about the invasion, but I know you directed the archers, and Horace was your shield, and Cassandra called openings. Halt was with the Oberjarl, and Erak." Alyss stopped, and looked back to Will. Seeing the question in his eyes, she shrugged.
"That's it?" Will asked incredulously.
She nodded. "Halt said something about asking you for details, because they weren't his to give. Horace said something similar, and I've never met Cassandra to ask." She shrugged again, and glanced to the door. She could hear voices in there, and wondered how Horace was feeling about being stuck in there with the Craftmasters.
Looking back to Will, Alyss tilted her head.
Will was silent, and went back to looking at the clearing.
"Do you know why he took us in the first place?" Will began picking at his pants again, unraveling the strings one by one.
"As slaves, right?" Alyss murmured, studying the side of his face.
"Mmm."
Alyss hesitated saying what she thought next, but had a feeling he wouldn't continue without a prompt. And she could tell something else—he wanted to get it out. He just didn't know how. "Did that happen?"
Will's mouth twitched. "Erak wouldn't have needed to help us escape if it hadn't."
Her mind raced with more questions. "Did they keep you and Cassandra together?"
A harsh laugh burst from his mouth. "We were slaves. She was a beautiful girl. I was an athletic boy. Of course they didn't."
"I want to understand, Will" She took his hand, the one that was destroying his trousers by the string. Gripping it in both of her hands, she leaned against him, pressing her lips to his hands. "But I can't understand unless you tell me. I can't ask all the questions you need to answer."
Will seemed to freeze.
He stopped breathing, and his eyes went wide and still. His hands, which were previously shaking, went utterly still.
The breath burst out of him, his mouth remaining stubbornly shut. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were staring forward, despite being oddly unfocused. Alyss watched as the tears formed, knowing that she had to let him handle his emotions by himself. He sat like that, hunched over and gripping Alyss's hands, while breathe wheezed up his throat and through his nose, his jaw and mouth unwilling to open to speak in case the words didn't make it out.
Alyss freed one of her hands and put her arm around his shoulders. Drawing him closer to her, she rested her chin on the top of his head, and held him. Apparently, he had enough determination to keep his mouth firmly shut—to keep himself from crying, despite the tears already falling, or to keep this situation hidden from the adults inside. His breathe came faster, until he was nearly hyperventilating; and all Alyss could think of doing was holding him. She knew that she of all people should be able to comfort Will in a time like this, but seeing her childhood friend like this . . . it was unnerving. Not only that, but concerning. Before he had left for Celtica and had been taken to Skandia, he had been cheerful, always, and was always relying on his humor and friendship with others. And then he came back, and was so quiet and different—and then this. What had happened there?
Sometime while she had been thinking, Will's quick, short, and quiet gasps had turned into him talking to her, or himself.
" . . . it was bad enough when it was impossible to survive but coming back from the emptiness that the damn drug gave me was so much worse because it I couldn't focus or think or even control myself. And as you come back from it, you remember more and more of what you didn't have control over, how people used you when you couldn't defend yourself; how people violated you because you were more of an object than a person and didn't matter. You were a means to an end and that was it, those who still had control used you for more than just work and it fucking sucked. You were the slave of a slave—you had no worth, no nothing." For a moment, his breathe hitched, his lungs gasping for air. Alyss rubbed his back, holding him tighter.
He started some where else, as if he was just getting what he needed out. "I've already missed a whole damn year because of the Skandian war and everything else and if I told Halt how I can barely stand to wake up in the morning without wanting to die then he would insist on taking a break or talking to some stranger who doesn't give a single shit about me or some other crap or even completely terminating my apprenticeship and I can't—I can't not be a Ranger because there's nothing else I can do with myself even though Duncan offered that position but I never wanted to be that and I could never go to being that after everything with Halt so I can't tell him—" Alyss jerked in surprised, pulling her head away from where it rested.
"You've never spoken about this with anyone for a year? Not even Halt? Or Cassandra—she was there with you—"
"No, no she wasn't. That's what everyone thinks," he snapped vehemently, "she was warm and cozy with a nice space by the fireplace to sleep because she was pretty and—and Erak only vaulted her position when he claimed her while I was still being fucking raped in the shithole that was the slaveyard because I was an object and not a person." Alyss's jaw clacked shut, not in face of his sudden cussing, but at his words. Raped.
He continued, though, as if it were normal. And, thinking about it, he had had a year to think about it. Was it normal to him? "Halt knows about the drugs and what happened with them but he doesn't know the details. He told me he wasn't disappointed but the look in his eyes when he said that was just so condescending and patronizing that I just couldn't tell him everything and honestly at that moment, I really couldn't stand Cassandra because she was privileged and didn't understand anything and thought her experience was scary and horrifying but didn't know shit about mine except that some asshole got me addicted to warmweed." He fell silent, taking deep breathes. Slowly he sat up, and wiped tears away, but didn't face Alyss, not even as her arm dropped from his shoulders.
Abruptly, he stood. "Don't tell any of them," Will murmured, keeping his back to Alyss. He stepped down the last two stairs, his hand trailing down the well-worn wood.
"Where are you going?" Alyss stood, straightening her skirt as she watched him walk across the clearing. She thought of going after him . . . but something held her back.
"For a walk."
Alyss watched him walk away, him never once turning back to her. "I can barely stand to wake up in the morning without wanting to die . . ."
"Will," Alyss called, following after him. Determinedly, the courier apprentice walked across the clearing, stopping in the middle and considering him where he stood at the far edge. He had stopped, and was looking down at his shoes, but still wasn't looking at her. Seeing the side of his face, she noticed red blotches down his cheeks from his crying. She pretended not to notice. "You know I'm here," she started, cringing at how awkward that sounded. "If you ever need me, I'm here. If you need to talk, ever, no matter the time of day, you can come to me. I understand not wanting to tell Halt, but I don't think Halt would blame you for how you're acting with what happened. He's probably actually concerned about you Will, and just wants to help. And you wouldn't be kicked from the Corps because of something like this, because events like this—the ones that haunt you—are probably something every Ranger has to deal with eventually. Ask Halt or Gilan." Alyss wiped her palms on her dress, her throat bone dry in comparison.
She took a breath. "There's nothing wrong with needing help every once and a while."
Without saying anything, Will nodded. He looked over his shoulder at her, the first time since when she had stepped out of the door. "I'll think about it," he said quietly, barely loud enough for her to hear it. His eyes flicked over her shoulder momentarily, before coming back to scrutinize her.
With that, Will once more turned away, and walked into the shadows of the forest.
Alyss turned back towards the cabin, sure of what would be waiting there.
Halt stood alone on the porch, his eyebrows furrowed and a clear look of concern etched onto his face. "Is everything all right?" he called, seemingly staring after Will.
She walked back towards the cabin, and climbed the stairs to stand in front of Halt. Smiling sadly, Alyss collected her hair and put it over one shoulder. "He's just going for a walk. He needed some fresh air." Moving past him, Alyss reached for the door knob—before hesitating. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw that Halt hadn't moved, and was still looking into the forest.
"Maybe you should ask him yourself," she murmured, after a moment's hesitation. She had a feeling neither Will nor Halt would go anywhere without a small prompt.
