(Same rules apply as before- I don't own anyone, but I'm going to kidnap Andrew myself and tie him up and.....have my way with him!)
This seemed to jerk Warren out of his anger, and instead he sank to his knees- brushing Andrew's hair away from his face.
"Shit Andy, I didn't mean to hit you- shhh, stop crying. I'll sort it out OK?" Warren held the crying boy close, not caring about the blood now dripping onto his clothes. Andrew's screaming sobs had now subsided into silent shakes as he pressed against Warren's warm body. Warren carried on soothing, stroking the blonde head now pressed against his chest.
"Quiet," he whispered- wiping away some of Andy's tears, "Or Jonathan'll be here." This sentence had a strange effect on Andy, who all of a sudden pushed himself away from Warren, still covering his face with his hands. He didn't even speak as he dashed over to the door and out into the cool Sunnydale night- still crying. Warren just looked on, not wanting to scare Andy by running after him. As the door slammed shut Warren dropped his head into his hands, the plan was not going well.
Meanwhile- Andrew was stuck outside with no place to go. There wasn't really anywhere in Sunnydale where you could be both alone and safe, but Andy was willing to chance it. Making sure he avoided most graveyards- he made his way to an old bench, situated in between two weeping willow trees. As the darkness enveloped him, Andy sniffed and rubbed his eyes- gingerly feeling his nose for any sign of breakage but luckily it didn't seem too bad; there was just an awful lot of blood. As he began mopping up the rest with a tissue he found lurking in his pocket, Andy heard the footsteps approaching.
It was obviously going to be Warren- Andy gathered this despite only hearing the footfalls. He hid his tear streaked face as someone sat beside him. The rotting wood of the bench groaned worryingly under the added weight, which was a bit strange since Warren was pretty slim. Andrew still didn't look, in fact he barely moved until he felt an unfamiliar arm around his neck and someone's hot breath on his cheek.
"Whassamatter bud?" the slurred voice growled in Andy's ear, causing him to tense up as he smelt the combination of beer and cheesy nachos on the stranger's breath. This certainly wasn't Warren- in fact it was a large, muscular drunk who Andy did not know- or want to know for that matter.
"I'm er, late for something, er something important," Andrew babbled, petrified now, "I gotta, you know." He stood up, trying to get away from the man who was looking at him with a strange glint in his eye. Andrew walked away as calmly as he could, breathing deeply when he thought he was out of most of the danger. He was just turning around to see where Mr. Boozy had gone to, when a hand was clamped over his mouth and he was pulled into the bushes.