Pairing(s): Warren/Will
Word Count:
Summary: Warren reflects on his father's arrest and his love for Will...
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language; mentions of slash
Author Notes: I'm really really sorry if parts of this, all of it, or anything involving this fic doesn't make sense or flow together or there are any sort of continuity errors. I wrote it at 2AM on a Friday night. Soo yeah. :3 But I liked this. It was fun to write. I hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I don't own blahblahblah, it's fiction ya-da-ya-ya-da, we all just do this repeatedly to save our asses, la-di-da... okay, done!
Warren
My life has pretty much always been hectic. My parents were both outcasted from their families, so...I really don't know any of my family at all, except mom and dad. I've been torn to bits between the two of them and their arguments. They were constant, the arguments. I never exactly understood why they were together at all. It didn't make sense, really. Mom is a hero and stands for everything good and right in the world. Dad is the exact opposite; a villain who stands for everything wrong and horrible in the world. They were a match made in Hell. It just didn't make any sense to me. Or much of anyone that met them.
The worst part was...they were constantly arguing. And also constantly dragging me into the middle of everything. And I never knew whose side to take. Mom was usually level-headed and thought things through; Dad was a bit more irrational and spontaneous. And when it came to arguments, there were points that I agreed with coming from both of them. I was torn and tossed around and I never understood which way to go. ...And I still don't. I don't even know where I'm gonna end up. I guess it depends on what happens in my life.
I know that the things my dad did was horrible. I mean...all the lives that were spent for nothing and the irreplaceable damages, but...I hate them for ever touching him. Okay, so he's a villain. But...he wasn't like he was at..."work" when he was at home. ...At home, he was just a normal guy...a husband to his wife...they argued a lot, but still! And a father to his son.
I was only about ten when it happened. The all powerful and mighty Commander busted my dad and he was tossed in jail. And no one knew it, but I was there when it happened. I saw everything, really. All the horrible things my dad had done... I'd never believed that he was evil until I'd seen that... But, I saw the destruction first-hand. And I saw the Commander and dad's fight. And I watched as my dad got the shit beaten out of him to the point where I was really starting to wonder if he might really die. No one has any idea what it's like to be ten years old and watch thier dad go down. At ten...despite what I had witnessed moments before, my dad was my hero. I only knew what I saw at home; Mom wouldn't let me watch the news and I honestly didn't have any interest in it anyway. I didn't realize that the reason she wouldn't let me watch was because she knew dad was probably going to be on it.
And when I had seen all that I could take, I'd come out of my hiding place and shouted. A lot. Yelling pointless, meaningless things at the man that was hurting my father. I didn't understand it at all then--and honestly, I still don't--and I just wanted things to be okay and for the man to stop hurting my dad. My mom had been somewhere and she was holding me back. She could only hold on for so long, though. It was that day that I found out that I had any sort of "super gene" in me. I was just so mad at this man that I didn't know could have the nerve to even touch my dad, and I was almost engulfed in flames that day. ...That's the only time it has ever happened. I've never been surrounded that much since that day.
I don't remember what happened between then and when my dad was arrested. But I remember my mom having to hold me back again. I remember fighting her grip and trying to pull away and wishing that whatever had happened earlier to make me engulfed in flames would happen again so she would be forced to let go. I remember the tears running down my cheeks as I cried out for them to stop, telling them he didn't mean to do it and that he was supposed to come home with my mom and me.
I can't believe I still find myself thinking about that day, even now. I don't know why, honestly. But whenever I do, I can't help but take out the picture of my dad and I and look at it. Sentimentality isn't usually my thing, but I can't help it. I can't get rid of the photo. I've tried...but it's useless 'cause I know...it's probably the only way I'll ever see him any more. Of course, there are always visits in prison, but...who wants that, right? I did go to see him for awhile. Twice a week. Until I turned seventeen, then I just stopped. I don't know why, I just did.
The most insane part, honestly, has to be that no matter how much I hate The Commander...God, his son drive me up the wall. I thought, in default, I'd hate him. Will Stronghold. I couldn't possibly expect a boy from such a perfect family to understand anything I've been through. I never expected anyone to understand, but I especially never expected Will to understand. Or care. But during the summer between our Freshman and Sophomore years, I found out that he did care. I know he'll never understand, not really. This isn't just an explanation sort of thing. You'd have to actually live through it and watch it all happen. And I knew that would never happen to him. But he cared. That was the first thing that threw me for a loop.
No one had ever cared. About anything in my life, nevermind what happened to my dad. I mean...what really happened, not the media's overblown and over dramatic retelling. And he actually wanted to know how I felt about the entire situation. ...And by the end of the summer, I'd all but told him my autobiography between all the talks we'd had. "Next summer, it'll be your life we go back and review" I remember saying that to him one day. He'd just smiled and nodded, "Fair enough", he'd said.
By the time school had started again...I figured out that I had let Will in. I'd really let him in. I knew exactly what that meant, but couldn't wrap my head around the idea. So, instead of trying to mentally figure it all out for myself, I stopped him one day in the hallway on the way to class one day, slammed him against the wall, "This is for attempting to understand me," I'd whispered before pressing my lips roughly to his own. I hadn't expected a response, unless it was in the form of me being shoved away. I had definitely not expected Will to kiss me back.
That boy is constantly throwing me off guard. And that's damn hard to do to me. Yet, somehow, he manages to do it constantly. I don't understand how he does it, but I guess it doesn't matter. All that matters is, insane as it is, and as much as I still hate his father, there's nothing I can do to change the fact that I love Will Stronghold. ...Now, if I only I could say it to him.