"Put your hands up, fair citizens!"

Green foliage, tall shady trees, bright sunlight, and clear blue skies…

Yep.

This DEFINITELY wasn't boarding school.

"Stick 'em up! Come on!", a young boy with fair brown hair and light freckles aimed his water pistol at a bunch of giggling boys, of thin and thick build, who stood in a line with their hands now raised up.

"Oh no! Whatever will we do?", a tall stick like kid named Marcus asked with a laugh, struggling to mean it.

The bank robber, pacing up and down with a potato bag he had drawn a dollar symbol on, tried his best to glare at them, even though he too couldn't take it seriously.

"Shaddap!", he yelled, in a pretend grown up voice, still stifling giggles.

An air of anticipation permeated the area, everyone awaiting the truly fun part of the game.

School uniforms lightly floated in the wind, a few leaves sticking to their trousers, as breaths were bated for the arrival of the hero of the game.

"Come on, man! Come out!", Kevin, a small sniveling kid with glasses yelped, and he got whacked by the muscular well built boy named Ronald.

"Knock it off, Kevin!"

"Sorry, sorry, the wind blew off my hat!", a spirited young voice could be heard from behind the bushes, and finally, the game could be continued.

"I give you by the count of five to give me all your money!", the bank robber announced, and he waved his water pistol around, an attempted commanding tone to his voice which failed since he sounded so young.

Leaves crunched under his black polished shoes as he pointed the water pistol at the boys.

"5… 4… 3…"

A leap in the air could be heard and some boys began prematurely cheering as a figure soared through the air.

"2… 1…", the robber said, tightening his hold on the pistol, preparing to shoot.

"STOP, THIEF!"

The voice was loud and heroic, echoing across the forest plain, and as he landed with a resounding thud, hip hip hurrahs were sounded by the "hostages".

The robber turned around, and despite this being out of character, he couldn't help the wide grin on his face as he said…

"Balthazar Cavendish…", he uttered in pretend resentment, his pupils dancing with glee.

"I say, it's time for you rapscallion to head to the nick!"

Clad in his school uniform, with the important addition of a flowing red cape that blew in the wind magnificently, Balthazar Cavendish, aged 10 years old, less dick headed, more obsessed with his father's love, and somehow as confused about everything, stands tall in the grass, his honey blond hair and thick black framed glasses complimented by a heroic grin.

He readied his fists of justice, a cowboy hat tipped just over his eyes, giving him a mysterious aura.

He was happier than he had ever been in his short 10 years on the planet Earth.

The Bank Robber and Cavendish circled each other, determined yet giddy grins plastered on their faces.

"You ready to fork over the cash?", The Bank Robber asked.

"In your dreams, which you will have in jail!", Cavendish retorted.

The other kids crowed "OOOOH!" at the two combatants.

"So, you actually think you can stop me?", asked the Robber.

"I don't think…", Cavendish started, posing fabulously.

"I know…", he almost whispered, but loudly enough for The Bank Robber to hear.

The Bank Robber cocked an eyebrow and gathered up some spit, but he failed to spit on the ground properly.

"You're doing it wrong!", Ralph pointed out.

"Raise it from your throat!", Edward instructed.

"Really put your back into it!", Liam advised.

Finally, The Bank Robber let out a spit that pleased the audience, and he scowled at Cavendish, a twinkle in his eyes.

Cavendish started to approach, his steps like those of giants, colossal and all important.

"Oh! You're approaching me? Instead of running away, you're coming right to me?"

Cavendish continued to approach, his face smug and brazen.

"I can't beat the stuffing out of you without getting closer!"

The Bank Robber laughed "evilly" and grinned at his opponent.

"Oh ho! Then come as close as you like!"

And so, the two boys walked up closer and closer, silly smiles on their faces as time seemed to slow down.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!", the "hostages" cheered on, hoping to get in on the fight after the "main event".

Cavendish and The Bank Robber kept walking until they finally met, faces mere breaths from each other, foreheads touching, eyes up close and personal.

"Give me your best, Balthy!", The Bank Robber taunted, but he did so from a friendly, encouraging place.

"Would I ever let you down, Ollie?", Cavendish said, almost lovingly, before the two finally collided, "punches" and "kicks" exchanged in a scuffle of epic proportions.

The other kids could barely contain their excitement, and soon, they all started to engage in the battle, mostly just laughing as they missed terribly.

Over the top calls of "Hwah!" and "Take that!" and "Ora!" and "Muda!" could be heard as the boys showed a complete disregard to the conventions of combat.

Their teachers and parents would not be pleased, but, really, when were they ever?

Here, away from the stuffy classrooms and strict guide rules, away from the suffocating conventions and crushing expectations, they were able to be something so incredibly special…

Themselves.

Soon, though, they grew tired of the game, as kids do.

However, they refused to end the fun they knew was short lived as it is.

"C'mon, mates!", Collin called out from the madding crowd. "Run to the trees!"

"They'll never catch us alive!", Ryan boasted.

"I'll make sure they catch you dead if you don't shut it, Ryan!", Terrence chided.

Still, the boys ran like animals, crowing and laughing and shouting as they spread out in the forest of Yews, climbing the ancient trees like agile monkeys.

Cavendish tried to climb one, but unfortunately, his cape got stuck between his feet, and the rushing onslaught of hyperactive children obstructed him from reaching his intended location.

"I can't climb like this!", he complained, annoyed by the constraints of his situation.

Suddenly, he heard a loud whistle from the tree tops, and he looked up, his eyes darting around for the source of the sound.

"Up here, Balthy!", Ollie, or, well, Oliver, The Bank Robber, motioned for him to climb up to the branch he was on.

But try as he might, Cavendish just couldn't reach the first branch, it was just too high for him.

Oliver's hand, however, was not.

"Thank you for taking Oliver Turing lifts! We lift, you join the ride! Going up!", Oliver announced, and a less than amused Cavendish was carried up thanks to his friends arm.

"I could have done it myself.", Cavendish protested as he sat on the branch and pouted.

"Cheers to you too.", Oliver sarcastically replied as he punched his friends arm, making Cavendish smile just a little.

"Careful with that arm! I need it!", Cavendish fake protested, and he punched back, making Oliver blush.

The two boys sighed and sat on the branch, the sun now beginning to set, its dark orange colors painting the sky with marvelous results.

"This has been a good day.", Oliver stated, and Cavendish nodded in agreement.

"I mean, we broke a ton of rules and they're going to murder us, but still.", Cavendish added, and Oliver shrugged.

"I don't know. My dad's pretty cool about this kind of stuff."

Oliver then added a little quietly, a little privately, like he was hiding a treasure…

A secret…

"He's pretty cool about my stuff."

Cavendish didn't really know what that was about, but he was too busy dreaming a familiar dream.

As ever, he was a little too focused on himself to see the forest for the trees.

He stood up on the branch and pointed at the horizon.

"Oliver…"

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Oh, boy. First names… This must be important, Balthy."

Cavendish smiled back. "Of course it's important. I'M saying it, after all!"

Oliver rolled his eyes humorously. "Whatever you say, Balthy."

Cavendish resumed his sentence. "No, seriously, listen!"

He pointed at the horizon again, his eyes sparkling with hope. "One day, Ollie, I tell you one day, I am going to be the GREATEST hero ever!"

Oliver couldn't help but laugh. "Balthy, you say that every day, and every day you fail all your classes."

Cavendish frowned, not wanting to be reminded of that. "It's only the physical ones…", he muttered sadly.

"Yeah, as if your dad wants you to be behind a computer.", Oliver joked, but Cavendish wasn't.

"Ollie! I really mean this! I really do want to be a hero!"

His eyes were pleading, and Oliver knew that he was being serious.

So he stopped joking and took on a sympathetic smile. "Sorry mate. I know you are."

Cavendish forgave him with a soft smile and he returned his gaze to the sun.

"Just imagine it, Ollie! Real bank robbers, real villains, bowing down before my presence! Fear in their eyes! Respect in their surrenders!"

Cavendish posed on the branch, nearly losing his balance but regaining it.

"I'll be the very best, like no one ever was! I'll kill all the monsters and aliens and maniacal overlords!", Cavendish boasted and promised with childish enthusiasm.

Oliver grinned back. "Don't forget us bank robbers!"

"Them too!", Cavendish nodded.

He then resumed his speech. "And then… Then I'll meet the queen! And I'll get knighted!"

He bowed slightly and then, with a quieter, more hopeful voice, whispered "…I'll finally make my Dad proud…"

And then he shouted out. "And I'll be loved by ALL!"

His voice echoed and echoed, his declaration of universal adoration for himself reverberating across the trees.

Cavendish then almost slipped and Oliver caught him, setting him back on the branch.

"Careful, Mr. Hero! Don't want to die before the first day, now, do you?"

Cavendish laughed sheepishly, and soon the two boys sat in silence, observing the setting sun, peaceful.

Well…

Almost.

Oliver kept stealing glances at Cavendish, as if…

As if he wanted to tell him something.

"Balthy…", he finally roused the courage to open his mouth. "…You say you want to be loved by all… But…"

Cavendish didn't need him to finish. "I know, Ollie, but my mind keeps changing!"

He complained, his hands waving to all sides. "My Dad says it makes me weak and soft, but at the same time I can't help but feel like it would be totally fantastic to be loved by everyone! You know?"

Oliver smiled shyly. "Personally, I only need one person to love me."

Cavendish nodded. "Mums are pretty wicked."

Oliver shook his head, Cavendish missing the point as ever.

Cavendish then put his arm around Oliver.

"Thank you for being such a good listener, Ollie. I feel like I can tell you anything."

Oliver suddenly schooched a little closer, hands a little clammy, voice a little shy.

"Balthy…"

He was uncharacteristically quiet.

Cavendish looked back at his friend with a cheerful smile.

"Yes, Ollie?"

Oliver took a deep breath and closed his eyes, bracing for impact.

He had been preparing this question for months, ever since the two had met in boarding school and hit it off immediately.

He had rolled it over and over and over in countless math classes, physical education classes and sleepless nights.

God knows how many times his lips had uttered the unspoken question!

And now, he was going to belt it out.

What's the worst that could happen? Untimely rejection, eternal pain and the small matter of depression?

Well…

Here goes nothing.

"Balthy… Are you…"

He gulped.

"…Gay?"

His heart skipped a beat as Cavendish's face turned curious.

"…No… No I don't think so."

Oliver wanted to bury his face in his hands and burn all those teen magazines in the doctor's office, when suddenly…

"I mean… I'm not sure."

Oliver gave him a curious look in return.

"Not sure?"

Cavendish nodded slowly, thoughtful now, the still setting sun reflecting off of his glasses.

"I guess… I mean… I honestly don't know."

Suddenly he returned the question.

"Are you?"

Under any other circumstance, with any other person, Oliver would have denied.

Only his dad knew, and he was sure that only he would understand.

But here, in the shaded grove of the yew tree, with his best friend by his side, his face not judging but just wondering, he felt brave enough to say…

"…Yes."

Cavendish smiled simply. "Oh, ok."

Oliver wasn't sure why he was so worried. In fact, he knew that most of the world was quite more accepting these days.

But perhaps it wasn't Cavendish who was close minded…

But his dad.

"You don't think it's… Weird?", Oliver asked, and Cavendish shook his head.

"Nope! The world has changed for the better on that, Ollie!"

Oliver smiled, but Cavendish frowned as he continued.

"My world, though… Hasn't."

Oliver was sure he knew what he meant, but he decided to let Cavendish explain himself.

Cavendish's eyes turned distraught and his body language resigned and melancholic as he talked.

"My world smells of boot polish and gun powder. My world tastes of baked beans and disappointment. Its sounds are loud and disapproving, it's closed and limiting like a cage with no exit. My dad would lose his mind if I told him anything like that."

"He doesn't have much of a mind to lose, Balthy.", Oliver joked, and Cavendish couldn't help but laugh.

The two boys grew silent again, only the wind breaking said silence.

"…I think I might like both."

Oliver looked back silently and Cavendish looked back speaking.

"I fancy Maura for example."

Oliver nodded, knowing this to be true.

"But Mark's pretty fetching too.", Cavendish admitted quietly, feeling strangely ashamed, despite being next to his freshly out of the closet confidante.

"So… You're Bi?", Oliver asked, twiddling his thumbs.

Cavendish considered this, and shrugged. "I reckon."

Oliver nodded, but for different reasons. "Cool word."

The two kept staring at the distance.

"…I want to be loved, and maybe by a man.", Cavendish concluded, and he half laughed half sobbed.

"My dad would kick me into the middle of a warzone for that."

Oliver turned to Cavendish, a little bolder. "Then… Fuck him."

Cavendish was startled by the rude language, and he turned to Oliver reprimending

"Ollie! Watch your mouth!"

"Why?", Oliver asked, his bravery overpowering his insecurities. "We're our own people, not the tiny soldiers marching to your Dad's fife."

Oliver grasped Cavendish's hands, making the young lad blush.

"Balthy…", Oliver started, his heart in his throat. "You said you're not sure if you can have love. But your Dad's wrong!"

He got closer. "If that's what he thinks, then he's clearly a brain dead zombie with… With… With no brain, because life is all about love!"

He neared Cavendish again, his eyes deep and his breath warm.

Cavendish could feel it on his face and it steamed up his glasses.

Most weird of all?

He wasn't totally against it.

"Balthy… Balthazar…", Oliver whispered, his fingers caressing Cavendish's, making the spectacled boy warm.

"Life… Is about giving and receiving love. It's about…"

Oliver implemented the message to himself for once.

"It's about accepting that you love others… And that they love you. And that you want to make others feel loved… And that… You deserve to be loved…"

"I… I don't know if I do deserve it…", Cavendish admitted, but Oliver hushed him as he neared ever closer, lips almost touching.

"…Well… You've got me fooled."

The two boys giggled, and, inches apart, closed their eyes.

Lips pursed, hearts stopped, breaths bated…

They got closer and closer…

Until…

"BALTHAZAR. T. CAVENDISH!"

"Uh oh…", Cavendish whispered, and he looked down to meet the absolutely furious face of his father, disappointment and disapproval knitted all over his face.

Cavendish's father didn't need to say another word.

His cold, hard stare said it all.

Cavendish started to disembark the tree, and as he neared the ground he extended his hand to help Oliver down.

But before Oliver could take the hand, it was pulled away as Cavendish was grabbed by his father, who tried to restrain the squirming child.

"Dad, what are you doing?", Cavendish asked, but Chief Cavendish wouldn't say anything as he forcefully held his son, who kicked and swung wildly all over.

"Dad, wait, I want to say bye to Ollie…", Cavendish started, glasses now crooked on his head, confusion reigning supreme in his eyes.

"You are.", was the chilling answer, as the car doors were swung violently open and Cavendish was shoved in, the back of his head bonking the top of the car.

"Ow!", he rubbed his sore head, but clearly his father didn't care, as he slammed the door, silencing poor Cavendish immediately.

He then gruffly entered the seat, the thud of another slammed door making Cavendish jump in fright, a little too much in Chief Cavendish's mind.

"Settle the fuck down, boy!", he shouted, and the car revved up, spewing out smoke that obscured Oliver from view, still on the branch, still reaching out his hand, in the blind hope it would be taken by Cavendish, who stared hopelessly out the car window, tears in his eyes.

Cavendish would never get another chance to hold that hand.

1. Some of you will note that this chapter (and chapter 3) do not feel like they're in the future. I delve deeper into this in the next chapter, but to clarify, the reason for all this is that Cavendish lives in a bubble of the past, and he doesn't get to live in the future, unlike his B.O.T.T time travel companions.

2. There is a definite contrast between this chapter and most. The rest are very depressing, while this one is almost relaxing. This is a lot because until the end of the story, these are perhaps the only moments where Cavendish is himself.

3. Some might find the game the kids play to be pretty dumb and not very fun sounding, but there is a good reason: These children are boarding school attendees, ones who are forced to live traditional lives. In other words, any freedom is good freedom.

4. The floaty, almost magical tone is quite fun in this one! In general, I liked making this chapter a lot, though it really began to flow when we get to the tree.

5. There is an intended vibe from the opening scene of "Toy Story".

6. Cavendish, thanks to this story, has only become more complicated. He is egocentric, stuck up, pig headedly sure of himself, abject to criticism, averse to love and in general kind of a dickhead. However, his heart is good and he does mean well and deep down, he really wants to save people. He just needs some guidance and if he accepts the real Cavendish, he'll be well on his way to becoming a true hero. I must warn you, it will take some time in this story for Cavendish to truly become a good guy, but don't worry! He is a hero in the end!

7. I don't think, I know, is easily one of the main themes of the AU. Confidence is key to anything, and these deeply unconfident people need to learn this.

8. "You're doing it wrong" is a reference to Hermione saying this in "Harry Potter and the Philosophers/Sorcerer's stone".

9. I really tried to get this slice of life British movie tone out of this scene. It was definitely different to my usual fare.

10. A yew tree is the oldest tree in the UK. Basically, symbolism of Cavendish still being held back by tradition and living in the past.

11. Cavendish getting stuck and needing help to get up (and complaining about it) is basically his whole arc: It's not that he isn't any good, it's not that he has no skills. But no man is an island; If Cavendish wants a good life, he needs to accept love.

12. Oliver's last name is a tribute to Alan Turing, another homosexual British man who suffered due to who he was deep down.

13. I must confess that I was thinking of making Oliver young Dakota for a while. However, not only would it be dumb, but also, Dakota has a… VERY tragic backstory, and let's just say he could never go to England. Bits of this backstory are revealed here, and in future stories, you will find out all of it.

14. POKEMON REFERENCE IN ONE OF CAV'S LINES!

15. Monsters (Pistachios), Aliens (Duh) and Maniacal Overlords (The Master)

16. Notice that again, despite his heart being in the right place, Cavendish cares more for the honor and respect and adoration of being a hero, rather than the act of helping someone else.

17. Cavendish's biggest conflict in the story is rather he should be loved or not. Thanks to his father, he is a toxic male, sure that he needs no one but himself, sure that emotion and kindness are weaknesses. The story demands that he learn to accept love, or he'll lose.

18. Some might find the casual conversation about sexuality weird, but personally, I think kids are less particular about this kind of stuff until society or their families make them think it's weird.

19. Reckon

20. I hate saying this, but as much as I like Oliver, he never comes back. This is one of the tragedy's that shape Cavendish, and some scars never heal.

If you thought this chapter was heavy… HOO BOY, WAIT FOR 3!