The end is nigh my little sicko minions! Not in this chapter but either the next one or the one after that! ^_^

I so apologize for taking my sweet-ass time updating to you all, and also the girl who sent me the request to write this story. Dear Loveless fangirl, I'm sorry it took so long honey. But I've ust honestly been busy haha. I'm sure a few of you are also Oxygen readers, so you'd know that my brother nearly died in a car accident and I was recently laid off from my seasonal employment at Target XDD

Ah well, end of my little talk about MY life. Let's get back to Warren and Will's shall we?


"I got work so I won't be home. But if you need me, I'll be at the Lantern, okay?" Warren promised Will as he helped him off of the back of his bike. Will nodded and looked toward his house as he unstrapped Warren's extra helmet from his head. Steve Stronghold had come out of the house and was standing with a hand on the railing on the porch. He looked out to his son, most likely having gotten a call or something that Will hadn't been at school today.

Josie Stronghold came out to join him and looked worriedly out to where Will was handing Warren's helmet back. Steve wrapped a comforting arm around her waist as she stood beside him. Will looked across the yard at them and looked back to Warren who asked behind the dark shade of his helmet, "Are you going to talk to them?"

Will licked his lips and looked back at his silent, worrying, waiting parents. "Yeah…They've been pretty worried about me lately."

"What about her?" Warren inquired, nodding his head toward Layla's house. Will looked and saw Layla exit her house, walk under the patio and onto the stepping stone pathway barefoot. She paused, looking worriedly out at Will.

Will opened his mouth to speak and then quieted when he saw Magenta, Zack and Ethan come out after her. They all looked out to him.

Will licked his lips and smiled lightly with a shudder. Warren touched his arm when he saw a few tears slip from the corners of his eyes. "Y-yeah…No…I don't know."

"Hey. Look at me," Warren said, behind his helmet.

Will did, and stepped close to him. "Those are your parents. And those are your best friends. They're the ones that're gonna support you, care for you and love you the most. Probably more than I could. I want you to be strong, Will. Because they're only gonna make you stronger here."

Will nodded as Warren spoke and murmured quietly, "They deserve an explanation."

Warren nodded, "Yes they do." He glanced toward Will's parents who still stood on the porch, watching them. He glanced over at Will's friends and asked, "Do you want me around? I could see if I could get someone to cover my shift,"

Will shook his head, "No, no. You've done enough for the past week and a half. It's…It's time for me to stand on my own two feet again for a little while. I don't want to get you in trouble with your boss…she seems kinda mean…"

Warren shrugged, "She can be. But, give me a call okay? Come see me if you need me." Will nodded and then turned toward his house. Then he started taking cautious even strides across the grass toward his parents. Warren watched him gesture with his head to his friends. They eagerly followed after him, casting a few glances Warren's way.

Warren was going to be late so he strapped down Will's helmet, turned his bike around and gunned down the street. He bit his lip under his helmet. Maybe he'll tell all of them who it was…Maybe that'd be best. They all have a lot more self-control than I do…if he told me first I would've found this guy…and killed him…

Steve Stronghold's fists clenched and he ran a hand down his face. He couldn't believe this had happened to his only son, and he'd had no idea. He felt so angry with himself. He even felt a little angry with this Warren Peace. Maybe it was jealousy. Jealousy that Warren Peace had been the one to find his boy and had taken care of him for the better part of two weeks. He felt inadequate as a father, having not been able to take care of his wounded, hurt, traumatized son. Jealousy that Warren Peace had been the one that Will had relied on.

But at the same time, he was grateful to him, impressed by him. He had known that Baron Battle had had a son. Warren had been there when Steve had apprehended Battle, fought him in a final stand off and came out the victor, putting Battle away for several lifetimes. He'd seen the boy as a young child, only a few years older than his son at the time. He remembered the tears staining the young boys face, and the hatred in those dark eyes when he looked at him.

He had feared that this young boy would grow up to be just like his father. Like father like son and all that. But it appeared that it was different in this case. He'd have to meet with Warren sometime, thank him, learn to know him, especially since his boy had the fondest and most glimmering look in his eyes when he spoke about him.

Steve Stronghold looked back into the living room where his boy sat, being fussed over by his wife, comforted by his closest friends whom he had come to find out had been alienated as well during this entire ordeal. Come to think of it, it had been them who had come to him this Wednesday afternoon after school. Explained how Will hadn't spoken to either of them for the longest time. How he had been silently tagging along with Warren Peace, and shying away from everyone else. No one had known what to make of it. In fact, for a little while, Steve had been worried that this Warren Peace had been the cause of the problems.

But no. Will had cleared everything up with his story, his explanations. However he had left out one thing…

He stepped across the carpet, and knelt down to be eye level with his son. "Will…I'm here for you, and I always will be. I want to help you, but…in order for me to do that well enough that you deserve…I need you to…tell me…"

Will's warm, comforted smile faded, and he seemed to shrink away inside of himself. Steve shook his head and gently touched Will's arms, determined to not let his son slip away again. "Will, please…I need you to tell me…who it was."

I was killing myself with tension. What the hell was going on over in White Hills with Will and his family? His friends? Did Stronghold Senior already have a platoon out looking for that son of a bitch who'd done this to Will? Did Will even have the courage to say? Was Will on his way to the Paper Lantern right now?

Shu shoved plates into his hands, balanced some on his forearms and instructed him to take them out to table eleven, and get his big punk head out of the clouds.

Silently he left the ruckus of the kitchen, and walked out amongst the loads of guests who were laughing, eating, waiting for their food, having loud obnoxious conversations. It made Warren set his jaw, I hate happy people…

He dodged around some ass that had jumped from his booth, disregarding Warren with an annoyed look. But Warren glared fiery daggers at the guy, making him shy away and scoot quickly to the bathrooms.

When he got to table eleven, he slid all of the plates onto the table with practiced ease.

"Well, look who it is, Speed! It's fucking Warren Peace!"

Warren lifted his eyes. It was that rubbery idiot Lash and the chubby chump Speed from school. He merely cocked an eyebrow at the skinny, striped-sleeve wearing dope. Lash smiled widely, "Well, look at that, Speed. Big, bad Warren Peace is servin' us dinner."

Lash smirked and Speed chuckled.

"You workin' with the Chinks?" Speed asked.

"Didn't know you speak Chinese,"

"Well he's Indian lookin', and technically Indians are Asian."

"How'd that work out? Land bridge thing back in the Ice Age?"

"Yeah somethin' like that,"

Warren was already walking away. He rolled his eyes. He didn't have the concentration or care to deal with those two bully-villain wannabes. They had no room to speak to him anyways. He remembered a time when they'd tried to rough him up a little as a freshman and he had kicked their asses all over the place and singed off their eyebrows.

It was becoming a pretty long night for Warren. Every other moment he looked at the clock to see how much longer it was until he got off. He was tired as hell. He'd drank about seven bottles of water to keep his dry mouth wet. That eventually led him into the path of leaving the kitchen to go to the bathroom. He slipped around someone who was coming out of the lady's room to get to the men's room. He pressed the door open.

"No, listen, I'm fuckin' telling you, Stronghold likes it rough."

Warren froze.

"Lash, you weird me out sometimes."

"Says the one who laughed his ass off after I caught up with him and told him the whole story."

"Because I was drunk off my ass and I thought it was gonna be the end of it. But you keep talking about it. Sure, I'm happy for you that you made Pain believe you were evil and fucked up enough to join up, but shut up."

"I'm just saying is all. You have no clue, man. Tightest fuck I've ever had in my life. He kicked and cried but I could tell he liked it."

"Yeah, yeah I get it, Stronghold likes it rough. Whatever."

"It's probably why the little runt's been following Peace around all the time. Peace probably gives it to him harder than I could. I'll have to corner Stronghold sometime, ask him who was better. Maybe give him another round."

"Now you're really starting to sound like a rapist."

Warren's jaw might have been wired shut from how tightly he was clenching it. His hands fisted themselves and he shoved the door open hard enough for it to put a dent in the wall behind it.

Speed and Lash jumped and whirled around from where they'd been standing at the sinks, about to share a cigarette. Flames extended from Warren's pores in areas all up his arms and his shoulders where they licked at the cords in his neck. There was fire in his black hole glare and his head was tilted downward slightly.

His eyes moved slightly to Speed whose mouth had fallen open, dropping the unlit cigarette to the floor. His voice was low, quiet and laced with white hot, blazing anger, "Get out."

Speed glanced at Lash who gave him a wide-eyed look. Begging him silently not to leave him there. But Speed turned away and winded past Warren, the door closing behind him.

Lash looked fearfully to Warren who turned his glare back to him. His heart was racing, he was afraid. There was no way out except for the door that Warren had just locked, never removing his fiery eyes from Lash.

"So, you're the one…" Warren growled. He tilted his head, stepping closer, making Lash swallow and move his hands behind him to brace himself on the sink. "I get it…how you did it…"

Warren stepped even closer. "You just used your powers…wrapped around him like a snake…bound him so he couldn't escape…attached yourself to him like a parasite…"

Lash licked his lips, "We're in a public place, Peace. Someone's gonna get pissed off that they can't get in the men's room."

Warren tilted his head the other way, fire blooming in his palms, red and raging.

"Think about it. You can't do anything to me here."

The red flames seeped from Warren's nerves, surrounding his bare arms like fiery sleeves to his dark shirt.

Warren hardly heard the click through the terrible sound of his angry, fiery blood pounding in his ears. But his reflexes moved when Lash sprang toward him with a switchblade in his fist.

Warren's flaming hand closed around Lash's throat and gave a single cough, sending blood out of his mouth and down his chin. He ground his teeth, ignoring the spiking pain in the right side of his chest where the blade of Lash's switchblade had buried itself into his lung. Warren tightened his grasp around Lash's throat, and watched him gasp and choke, unable to breathe, but screaming at the same time.

Lash grabbed at his flaming wrist, face contorting with pain of the fire and the inability to draw in oxygen. Warren clasped Lash's throat with his other hand as well, tautening his grip as much as he possibly could. The hand still fisted around the switchblade moved. Lash gagged and gasped, desperate for air.

Warren was breathing blood, hardly able to breathe clearly himself as blood stained his lips. He ground his bloodied teeth when Lash yanked the blade from his lung, and yelled out in pain when Lash stabbed it into his stomach.

But Warren held fast, slowly sinking down to the floor, watching Lash's eyes roll upward into his head. Warren coughed, spattering blood onto his clamped hands, eyes ever-watching, never leaving Lash's face. Beneath his flaming palms, he could feel Lash's weakening pulse as his struggling faded. Warren intently watched Lash's eyes as they looked into his.

With one last ditch effort to get Warren to release him, Lash jerked his arm, dragging the blade of his switchblade through Warren's stomach. Warren gritted his teeth, biting back the yell of agony. Lash could feel the burning heat of Warren's blood spilling onto him. He could feel how light his head was becoming. He could see Warren's glaring expression, stained with blood. And then things started to fade away.

Warren watched Lash's eyes close, felt the hand on the knife slip and let go, bringing the blade from his innards. He tightened his grip briefly before shoving his limp body away from him where the back of his head hit the pipe beneath one of the sinks and slumped to the floor. Warren stared tiredly at the blood that stained the curve of the pipe. He scooted back and leaned back against the stalls. He gave a weak cough, sending blood out onto the front of his dark shirt.

He drew in a ragged, choking breath and sighed out blood. He closed his eyes tightly, feeling the agony of the sharp, cold pain spreading through his body as he continued to lose blood. He gritted his teeth and flames unfurled from the openings cut into his chest and his abdomen. But the comforting heat contrasted with the horrible cold hurt and made him scream out as he tried to cauterize his own lacerations.

The smell of blood became scentless to him. And the taste of it on his tongue seemed to dissolve. The frolic of the restaurant just outside the locked door quieted. The bathroom darkened around him. Darkened to a freezing cold black as his eyes heavily sunk closed.