a/n: Okay, I'm finally back. I took this vacation in July, and when I came back I wasn't feeling very well. I'll try to update again soon!

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Enjoy!

Romen

Disclaimer: familiar; not mine. Unfamiliar; mine.

Chapter 16

Of Slugs and Rugs

Susan glared at him, shifting her weight as she lifted the full basket of laundry a little higher. "Come along, Will! We don't have all day!"

"Coming," he muttered from behind the heavier load, trying not to drop anything. It was late in the evening, and Susan was forcing him to help her with all of her chores in payment for his lessons. So far, she said that he was doing well, but he could hardly dare to believe it himself.

They had only had two sessions. Susan said that he was progressing quickly, but he still felt very silly. He wondered if he had been rash to think that he could conquer the minuet.

'Probably,' he thought to himself. 'I should have just thought of some way to get out of dancing...'

A piercing shriek distracted him from his thoughts. He bumped into Susan, tripping and landing on the ground on his back side, the basket falling from his grasp. He pushed himself up, stepping over the mess.

"What's wrong?" he asked breathlessly, taken aback at the sheer terror on her face.

She pointed to something on the path. "S--Sl-Slug!"

Will frowned, looking down at the thick black figure slowly crawling toward them. "Susan, you screamed because you saw a slug?"

She screeched again, running to hide behind him. "Throw it away!"

He bent down to examine it closer. "It's probably more afraid of you than you are of it."

"Push it away!" she insisted, hopping from foot to foot nervously. "Will, please!"

He snorted. "Susan, for goodness sakes, it's a slug! What is it going to do to you?"

She drew in a shaky breath, staring at it wide-eyed. "It's their eyes. And the way they move. They just keep getting longer..."

"Just step over it." He turned around to look at the scattered sheets with a scowl. He ran one hand over his face in frustration. "At least they weren't clean...Here, help me pick these up." No answer. "Susan?"

He caught a glimpse of her skirt as she rushed through the door, running as fast as her feet could take her. He rolled his eyes and began gathering the sheets, pushing them back in the basket ruefully. He'd never seen her act so strangely, from a slug at that! It wasn't that he liked them himself, but he wasn't going to go insane from just seeing one.

He lifted his load, glancing down at it before making his way to the manor. The day was utterly depressing; gray, cloudy skies, with wet, muggy air. The beautiful weather from a few days ago was gone, only to be replaced by this drear atmosphere. He hoped that it would rain soon to clear the thick air.

He kicked the back door open, walking quickly through the halls. He could hear the sound of voices in the parlor. He recognized the voice of the governor, but he couldn't place the second one. It wasn't James's father, but it did sound familiar...

Without warning, he felt his foot brush against something thick. He fell forward, the basket flying from his grip as he landed on his hands and knees. He shot a glance at the rolled up corner of the rug he had tripped on before taking in the spilled basket.

He sighed heavily. "Not again..." He reluctantly began to gather the contents.

"Will, what are you doing?"

He watched as Elizabeth rushed down the stairs. "Nothing Miss Swann, I just tripped..."

"Here, let me help you." She knelt down next to him, smiling gently. "Really, you should watch where you're going."

He chuckled. "Tell that to the slug."

"What?"

"It's a long story." He paused, bundling a sheet. "So, how old are you going to be? On your birthday, I mean."

"Twelve." She laughed, watching his face. "You look surprised. I know that I look younger, and I'm a bit short...But James looks young for his age, too. He's going to be fourteen in a few months."

"Really." He gritted his teeth.

She pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. "So how old are you?"

He scratched the back of his neck. "I'm twelve."

"Oh really? When's your birthday?"

"Sometime in December." He shrugged nonchalantly.

"What day?"

"I don't know, sometime in the middle..."

"No, really, what day?" She cocked her head to the side. "Surely you know your own birthday."

He hesitated. "It's the sixteenth. I don't really celebrate my birthday...anymore." He fell silent, staring off into space.

"Well, a lot of people don't celebrate their birthdays," Elizabeth said at last, breaking the awkward silence. "There's nothing wrong with that. I know someone who-"

"My mother died on my birthday," he interrupted quickly, shoving a sheet into the basket.

"Oh." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right, I shouldn't have said anything," he apologized thickly, blinking furiously.

Her eyebrows furrowed concernedly. "No, Will, I'm glad you told me. I'm just sorry that you had to go through that."

He swallowed. "It's not that important." He blinked again, clearing his throat.

She watched him for a moment, saying nothing. "Are you all right?"

He didn't look at her, but nodded. "Yes, I'm fine." He paused. "It's just that- I remember lying in bed. She was really sick then, but I still knew that it was my birthday, and I wished that she was well so we could enjoy it together. Most of our money had been spent on physician care. We were hardly able to afford food. Eventually she stopped seeing doctors, just so she could keep food on the table. She forced herself to work everyday, no matter how much pain she was in. And all I was worried about was my birthday." The word was bitter. It was as if he had forgotten Elizabeth was even there. "I didn't even know that in the other room, she..." His voice trailed off into silence. He rose to his feet shakily, grabbing the full basket. "Selfish of me, huh?"

It took a moment for Elizabeth to find her voice. She stood, following him down the hall. "No, not at all."

His jaw tensed. "All of the times I should have been more of a help..."

"Will, you were a child."

"I was her son." There was a catch in his voice. "It was my job-"

"It wasn't your job to be the adult," Elizabeth said earnestly. "You did all that you could, and she must have been proud of you."

He whirled around. "How do you know? You weren't there, you didn't know her." He stopped himself, adverting his eyes. "I'm sorry."

She observed his face. The expression of guilt and regret was just too much. She took the basket from his arms and set it on the ground before taking both of his hands. "It wasn't your fault."

His shoulders twitched. He drew in a sharp breath, refusing to meet her gaze. "I- I am sorry-"

"Will, stop it." She squeezed his hands. "None of it was your fault. No one blames you." She forced a cheery looking smile, letting go of his hand. "Come on; we should hurry."

She attempted to lift the basket herself. She frowned. "It's heavier than I thought..."

The sides of his mouth twitched. "I'll get it."

As she watched him lift it, she suddenly realized why he was her friend.

TBC...