title: Yesterday's gone and so is Will
author: newtypeshadow
fandom: Sky High
disclaimer: Sky High and associated characters and settings are not my property. This story was written for entertainment, not for profit.
pairings: Warren/Will, Warren/OC (Violet Tempest)
notes: I've been asked to write a second part to this. I'm still...deciding. Also, the next ficlet I'm planning on posting here will definitely bump up the overall rating. Any objections?
Yesterday's gone and so is Will. The house never seemed so empty. Echoes of Will's accusations still ricochet off the walls. Will's crushed, angry eyes burn into Warren's whenever he looks into the mirror.
Warren wants to think he's innocent, but he's not. Violet Tempset kissed him and he let her. He didn't torch her either. What Will doesn't understand was that to Warren, it was the right thing to do. Or at least, it seemed that way at the time. Now he's not so sure.
Violet Tempest and Warren were lovers in an alternate dimension. A dimension where Warren never met Will Stronghold. Where he followed in his father's footsteps. Where Layla killed him trying to apprehend him. Violet Tempest came through time and multiple universes to find a Warren who could be hers, if only for a moment. It was just their bad luck she chose this one.
And that Warren listened to her. And kissed her goodbye while tears of rejection slid down her face.
He can't explain this to Will, the hero wouldn't let him. And how could Will understand? How could Will understand that if he died Warren would want the exact same closure Violet Tempest did, but he wouldn't stop with a kiss? How can he explain that Violet Tempest is more merciful than him, that if his own Will died he would try to fall in love with another, praying all the while it wasn't just a pale reflection of his own lost love? How can he explain that selfishness, that soul-deep need to have Will in his life, without coming off like a total stalkerish asshole? Or a wuss?
God, it's hard being in love. And it hurts like hell to lose it.
Warren scrubs his lips hard with a washcloth, scrubs off the kiss until his mouth is bleeding and raw. Then he smashes the mirror so Will's eyes can't accuse him and curls up in bed, mind racing, heart heavy.
Will will cool off, come back. He has to. Because Warren can't live without him, just like Violet Tempest couldn't live without her Warren. Will has to come back, he has to, because without him the flames in Warren's heart burn bright enough to consume: anyone, everyone.