Something was making a steady sound near him. Someone perhaps rather than something? He didn't know. Everything hurt. He was barely conscious but he knew his entire body hurt. His chest and right arm worst. They felt as though they were being pounded by a great hammer mercilessly. Someone whimpered and moaned in pain. He knew it was himself, for he felt nothing more than pain. A sudden presence and unevenness beside him told him he wasn't alone. He was lying on soft things. Pillows perhaps? It did smell like flowers from a beautifully and carefully planted garden, but it smelled of something else as well, something foul. Medicinal herbs and alcohol. He knew the smell of alcohol anywhere, but why the medicinal herbs.
There was a faint tapping on his shoulder. He thought he heard his name being called. By the nature of his calling, he knew it was a small child because the voice was small and shy. There were no children on the ship. Why was there a child calling his name? Soft, gentle pressure was applied to both sides of his hand. Tiny fingers wrapped around his teenage hands.
He wanted to open his eyes so badly, but he couldn't. He was so weak. Breathing hurt. Each inhalation sent icy, burning pain further into his chest. The touch to his hand was calming though. He had to open his eyes. Something wasn't right.
His eyes cracked open for a moment. What he saw for that moment was a dark, uneven circle above white and above the circle a cream. He attempted again. More successful, as his eyes halfway opened, he saw a blurry image of a human being. His father perhaps? The hair color was the same. It had to be his father. Clearly, he was injured somehow and his father was sitting beside him despite having given up. The backdrop behind his father wasn't of a ship. Instead of brown boards it was cream and an opening of blue outlined with the color of wood and a blurry table piled with jars and white directly in front of him. Wait a moment, the eyes looking at him were brown, not blue. This person wasn't his father. And the face was round, like a baby's and the hair was short and, and…
"Aidan," Will softly called, awfully groggily and not all conscious.
The head nodded up and down. "Uh huh."
"What you doing here?" Will asked softly.
"Waiting for my biggest brother to wake up," replied the five year old.
"What are you doing on the ship?" wondered Will.
"Will, I'm home. You are too," whispered Aidan.
Now more conscious, Will blinked. His baby brother was in complete focus. Aidan was sitting in a chair with his head on the bed looking at him with mirror eyes. Behind Aidan, was a table containing many bottles and jars and folded cloths. Further into the background, revealed wooden flooring and cream walls and an open window with a gentle summer breeze flowing in the curtains.
He examined his situation more closely, but not quite to focus. There he was, lying on his bed in his room. His right leg was higher than the other, resting on what appeared to be a pillow by the shape beneath his favorite blue blanket. Beside him, his arm was above the blanket also resting on a pillow. His heavily bandaged arm. Something was supporting his forearm, for his arm did not usually look like a rectangle. The white bandages began at his knuckles and extended well past his elbow. His eyes following the blanket that was wrapped to under his chest gave sight to his more heavily bandaged chest. As he moved his head, he felt pain and slowly pulled his hand from between his brother's, he touched the bandages that nearly covered the top of his eyes that widened in fright. His entire forehead and more was wrapped and the cloth wound that thick around his head. From his chest, the white wrapped around his shoulder as well. Past his shoulder was the source of the steady sound.
Bill Turner sat in an armchair, head leaned back and tilted. His attire, from what Will saw, was trousers, a tunic and his favored blue wool robe. His sleeping eyes were wrought with pain and many nights and days without sleep it appeared. Dark circles rounded his eyes. Each breath was heavy, yet very slow giving sign to how deep of a sleep he appeared to be in.
"Daddy hasn't sleep in a long time," Aidan answered before he could ask. "He was too busy looking after you. Uncle Alex he would give him something to make him sleep if he didn't sleep sometime soon. He fell asleep on his own."
Will opened his mouth. "Ow." Not what he meant to say, but it was what came out.
"It looks ow," agreed Aidan, nodding his head. "I'll wake daddy." He carefully crawled from Will's side, ran around the bed, and began poking his father in the forehead.
It took a few minutes, but Bill's head moved from the poke and eyes heavily opened. He blinked and rubbed the sleep out of them, immediately sitting up right as though he was proving to himself he didn't fall asleep. "Aidan, what is it?"
"Will's awake and he said 'ow'," replied Aidan.
Beside Bill, away from his eyesight, came a soft laugh. His head and body whipped around with a gasp. Altogether, his steady breathing stopped. As his eyes widened they filled with tears and in an instant, those tears were falling gently down his cheeks. He reached a hand out to brush Will's cheek, touching the corner of the small, painful smile.
He gently leaned his body over Will and pulled his son into a gentle embrace.
If Will could sigh, he would have.
"I love you," a voice came from between his neck and the pillow. "I love you so much. I love you Little One. I love you. I love you."
Warm lips pressed gentle kisses into his neck and worked their way up to his cheek and forehead then a warm palm cupped his cheek and remained there. His left hand slowly pulled across the blue blanket and into the air before resting on his father's hand which immediately clasped the teenager's hand into both of his.
Will looked into his father's sobbing eyes not understanding why he was like this. He watched as the near black despair darkening the sapphire became lighter with joy and hope and a thousand prayers answered.
"What happened?" he asked after a few minutes.
Shutting his eyes with a heavy sigh, Bill's forehead creased with pain as he attempted to squeeze the image from his head, but could not.
"WILL! NOOO!" he heard himself scream, cry, shriek, yell.
His hands slipped from the wheel as his feet ran as fast as they allowed him. The world around him remained the same, but his son falling slowed and his haste to reach him was slower yet. He watched Will slam against the cannon, hitting hard on his right side, then fall back onto deck where he vanished from sight temporarily.
Forever it seemed before he was able to collapse beside his son. Scared, frightened, terrified, horrified, he did not want to move his child for fear of hurting him further. He was lying on his back, one leg twisted under the other. The right arm, bent horrible wrong, fell far from his body. Through the unbuttoned front of his tunic, great, black bruising consumed the young man's chest. The same followed for his forehead above his right eye. All color seemed to have been struck from him, for he was a pale as a dead body. Rain poured onto his face and he did not move. Nothing seemed to move.
Finally, Bill reached a quivering hand forward to wrap around his son's left wrist. His heart sang with joy. There was a faint, slow pulse. He did not realize he had pulled his son's broken body into his arms until he realized he was screaming and pleading into his son's curls.
"Daddy," Will's voice called.
Snapping out of it, Bill looked at his awake son's eyes. He swallowed hard and managed two words from his mouth. "You fell."
Will nodded his head a few times then grit his teeth together and cringed in pain as a breath was stolen from him.
"Shh," Bill hushed, pressing a kiss onto Will's cheek before moving to the side Aidan was seated. He quickly and shakily measured, poured, and mixed powders together in a glass. "Here drink this."
Will parted his lips as his head was tilted, allowing the foul liquid to collect in his mouth before he swallowed it into his body. A few swallows later, his head was gently lying once again in his pillows.
"Night, night biggest brother," said Aidan.
"Night Aidan," said Will. He looked at his father, feeling the effects of the plant beginning to quickly affect him, probably the result of his weak body. "I love you too," he managed to say before his eyes closed and nothingness consumed all.
The nothingness around him didn't last long. His eyes shut then a moment later opened again. Unlike before, his eyes opened wide with pain as pressure was applied to his leg and he cried out.
"Aaahhh! Oww!"
"I am going to kill you," his uncle's voice said clearly.
Will looked at Alexander. The usual warm brown eyes were black with anger and, fortunately, fright. His normally smirking lips were pursed in anger and moving into several words that made no sounds. Deciding not to speak, he turned his attention back to examining Will's leg. He applied less than gentle pressure on the bone.
"Stop," Will pleaded.
"I apologize William, but someone must ensure that the bone he healing correctly and the only way I'm going to know if it is healing as is should is to feel the angle," Alexander told him. His fingers clenched as he looked at him. "Are you bloody mad William? What the hell were you thinking? You are sixteen. This is the second time you have gone sailing and you decide you are skilled enough to climb onto mainmast and secure the sail in the middle of a bloody storm. This is the stupidest thing you have done in the past year. I thought starting that fight was stupid but this gets the gold crown for the King of Stupidity. None of the rebelling you have done in the past year compares to this. You are so bloody stupid. Will, I—"
"Alex, what are you—"
Will's eyes widened with joy as he slowly moved his head to his bedroom door.
Her mouth formed in the word "fussing", Charlotte stood in the doorway unable to move. The loose golden curls fell across her shoulders. Her brown eyes identical to her son's gazed into his eyes. With a gasp, she rushed forward and pulled the teenager into her arms.
"Ow!"
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Will!" Charlotte cried as she set her little boy back on his pillows. She covered him with his blanket.
"I say he deserved it," said Alexander.
"Alex!" Charlotte scolded.
"He did it himself Lottie," noted Alexander.
A complete change came over Charlotte's mind, recalling the story her husband told her. She looked at Will and, with the expression on his mother's face, he knew this wasn't going to be a very good talk. "Will, I have one question for you before I lose my temper. What did you want to prove?"
"I wanted," began Will, but a sharp slap across his face from his mother stopped him.
"I don't care what you were trying to prove young man. If it can't be proved with simple words then there is no possible way it can be proved. Do you know how much sleep I've gotten in the past two weeks? None! Do you know what it was like hearing your father screaming for my brother and when I rushed out to see why, there you were wrapped in a blanket in his arms? I thought you were dead Will. We nearly did lose you. I thought every moment you were in here and I was stuck out there you were going to die. Your uncle and Ewan are still trying to fix you up and it's been two weeks. Do you know what they had to do to you to keep you alive Will? Do you? You have a metal coin in your head. Do you have any idea what that felt like being told my son, my sixteen year old son has a metal coin in his head and his arm is in three pieces and he still could lose his leg and half his ribs are broken? Do you know what it is like to be afraid to come in here for fear of seeing you without a leg? Will do you?"
"Do you know what it was like falling?" Will asked his mother. "Do you know what it was like to turn thinking you could grab the wood and watch it rise further and further away from you? Do you know what it's like to hear someone screaming your name and then nothing? Do you?"
Without another word, Charlotte sat on the bed beside him. She gently took his hand and kissed the top of his palm. "No I don't Will, and I hope you never have to know what it's like again," she whispered.
"Me too," admitted Will.
"You're alive!" Lily shrieked. She ran across the room and pounced on her brother.
Will's face lost all color. He squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth to keep the scream within his mouth at all possible costs.
Hardly noticing, Lily continued to squeeze her arms around her brother. Unfortunately, she was lying on the wrong side of her brother's body to be lying across him.
"Get off me," Will managed to tell her through clenched teeth.
"What?" wondered Lily, looking at her brother. "Oh, Will, you're so hurt."
"That's because you're lying on my broken arm," Will told her.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" cried Lily, moving completely away from her brother's body altogether.
"Bad Lily," Andrew scolded and emphasizing that his sister was bad by pointing a finger at her like his parents did when scolding him.
"You tell her little brother," said Will with an attempted smile.
It was apparent when Dirk walked in the room because he simply walked up to his cousin and gave him a good hit in the face.
"Dirk, that was not necessary," Gabriel told him.
"Yes it was," Dirk said, clearly emphasizing every word of it. "Do you know how horrible it was to—"
"I know, I know. I already went through this with mum," said Will.
"Well, then I'm going to go through with it with you anyway. Different perspective. She wasn't there remember?" said Dirk.
"You were the one hiding on deck. Remember Dirk? So how did you see it?" asked Will.
"I was not hiding," Dirk told him, shamed Will would say such a thing.
"You were too," Will said.
Dirk opened his mouth to speak.
"Both of you enough," Richard said as he too entered the room. "Dirk, leave it be. William, you shouldn't be speaking. You need to rest."
Will looked at them all as best as he could with his injuries. "So, suddenly, I get hurt and all of you love me again?"
Every one of them looked at each other then leaned over Will. Each one was shouting and scolding something different at him. All the mix of shouts, curses, words, and feelings made no sense in Will's mind. He couldn't understand any of it. He wasn't sure if they loved him or hated him. All they were doing was yelling at him. Between the physical pain his injuries were giving him and the mental pain he was receiving from the screaming, he didn't know what to do. It was all overwhelming him. He turned his face into his pillow, attempting to hide away from them. Things seemed only to worsen as they shouted louder, but one voice stood above them all.
"Stop it!" Aidan shrieked at the top of his little lungs. Everyone stopped in mid word and turned to him. "You made Will cry."
He laid himself beside his brother's left side of his body and nuzzled his face into Will's neck.
Noticing this was not a good thing, Bill began pushing them all out of the room. "All right, all right everyone out. Father and son time. I need to have a little talk father and son to Will. Lottie, don't look at me like that. You know I am his father and sons connect better to their father than they do mother. Out, out, out." He pushed them through the door and shut it. When he turned, he noticed he forgot one person, but decided to let him be where he was.
Little Aidan was curled against his brother tighter than he was before since Will's arm was around him tightly. Will's cheek was against his brother's forehead and Aidan was wiping his biggest brother's face clean of the tears.
Bill smiled at this little scene. Despite these two were over eleven years in age difference, they connected better than Will and Dirk did at times and the world thought those two were twins. Aidan provided a comfort to Will no one could and in the past year of rebelling Will decided to put him through, Aidan was the only one to bring his brother back for all of them.
"Do you hurt?" he asked Will as he resumed his armchair place beside Will.
Will's eyes looking at him said everything, but when his father moved to stand, Will reached his hand out and set his palm on his father's knee. "I'll be okay."
"I don't want you in pain Will," said Bill, taking his son's hand.
"I'll be okay," Will told him again. He curled his arm around his little brother once more.
Aidan smiled up at is brother and nuzzled his head into his neck. "Daddy, can I have naptime here with Will?"
"Sounds perfect," said Will, rubbing his cheek into his brother's head.
The two brothers shut their eyes. Not what Bill was planning to do with Will but if his recovering son was willingly going to nap then it was just as well as giving him medicine to ease the pain.
"Of course you can," he replied quietly and wrapped Aidan with a blanket that was at the foot of the bed.
He resumed his place in his chair and watched the two of them.
Will opened an eye. "You don't have to watch us sleep."
"I'm supposed to. I'm your father," replied Bill.
"Well, go away. We're fine," said Will, shutting his eyes.
What Will didn't know was that his father saw him grit his teeth in pain and eventually bite his lip as he turned his face into his brother.
"Do you want something?" whispered Bill.
"I'm fine," said Will softly.
Bill raised an eyebrow and looked at the resting duo. He knew his son better than that. Even in the presence of his sleeping brother Will would never admit that he wanted something to dull the pain. Aidan was sleeping and he still would never openly admit it. Knowing better, he pushed himself from the armchair with a great sigh and watched Will watch him as he walked around the bed to the table where the medicines were resting. While he hummed a lovely tune, he mixed together powders and water, yet kept an eye on his sixteen year old son. The smirk on his face thankfully widened opposite side facing his sons.
"Here," he said presenting Will with a cup. "It's light and will dull everything, but probably make you sleepy."
"Thanks," whispered Will. "But you're going to have to help me. Aidan's occupying the only arm I'm going to use for right now."
"Of course. Blame it on your baby brother," said Bill sarcastically.
"Are you and mum expecting another?" wondered Will after he swallowed the foul liquid.
Bill's eyes widened as he looked at his son. "What makes you say that?"
"Mum looks a little bigger than I remember," noted Will.
"Want to hear a secret?" wondered Bill.
Will subtly nodded his head.
Bill looked at him with a narrow eye then knelt beside to his son's level. "You and Lily and Andrew and Aidan, but especially you, made your mother fat. She's never going to lose the belly fat you four put on her. She's always going to be a little fat. And personally, I like it."
"I wish Elizabeth would gain a little weight," said Will. He looked at his father. "She needs a little added onto her chest."
"William," Bill said with a false shock. He chuckled and shook his head at his son.
"What? I'm your son remember?" reminded Will.
"I know, I know," said Bill. "So have you two…?"
"Father, you know the answer to that question," said Will.
"I know and I'm glad you waited until she was sixteen," said Bill.
"I did. It was the night of her sixteenth birthday for the record," Will said.
"I know," Bill told him with a heavy sigh. "Don't tell your uncle."
"Oh, he knows already. Apparently she went to him for confirmation and advice." Will told him.
Bill looked at Will oddly. "Advice for what?"
"What to do and if she was ready," replied Will. "Alex told me it was okay before her birthday but I wanted to wait until her birthday. And you know that wasn't her birthday gift. I got her the sapphire ring."
"I know," said Bill. He flipped a few curls from Will's face and pressed his lips across Will's bandaged forehead. "Now, you get some sleep. I'll return when Aidan informs me that you are awake."
Will smiled. He gave a few light nods of his head before turning his cheek once again into Aidan's forehead.
Knowing they would be all right, Bill began his way quietly from the room. He heard a sigh be released then someone mutter a soft "ow". A smile widened across his face as he shut the bedroom door.
In the mood for a good, hot cup of tea, he wandered down the bedroom hall and then continued until he came to the staircase. Andrew and Lily sat atop the stairs, one on each side, looking down them. They had thoughts on their minds about something.
"What are you two thinking about?" wondered Bill.
"Will," replied Andrew.
"Aren't we all?" asked Bill with a nod of his head.
"Father, why did Will get so bad and mean? He was perfectly fine one day and then the next he decided to be bad and mean," said Lily. She sighed heavily. "I just want my big brother back."
"Me too. He's only nice to Aidan," said Andrew. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall behind him. "It's not fair."
"I don't think he likes us anymore," noted Lily then changed her mind suddenly. "He hates us."
"I hate him too," announced Andrew, his little face pursing and creasing.
Bill looked between them then knelt more toward their level. He reached out and set a palm on each of their faces. Applying forces to the cheek opposite him caused them to turn their heads and look at him. "He doesn't hate either of you."
"But," began Andrew.
"No, Andrew, he doesn't hate you," said Bill, more firmly. "Aidan, I do realize, is the only one who Will doesn't change for. I don't understand the reasons any more than you do. I'm trying to get through your big brother's tough walls but he's as stubborn as his mother and uncle together. I know he doesn't hate either of you. He's just forgotten who he is I believe."
"Can you bring my big brother back daddy?" asked Andrew.
"I'm trying," said Bill.
"Good luck. You're going to need it," Lily told him with firm nods of her curly head.
"I'll need it," admitted Bill as he stood and made his way down the two flights of stairs.
As he walked the final few steps, his mouth opened into a yawn he was unable to hold back. He hadn't slept in days and here he was running around the manor acquiring more tea to keep him awake. After tea, he knew he would return to Will's side and watch him sleep until he too fell asleep and was woken by Aidan again.
Paws clicking on the floor turned his attention below him and thankfully, for he would have missed the last step had he not drew his attention down. Four dogs in the house, Polaris, Alexander's Newfoundland, George, Dirk's Great Dane, Orion, Will's Golden Retriever, and Hercules, Richard's Newfoundland and Richard himself once swore he would not allow any of his children to have a pet.
"Hello all four of you furry menaces," he greeted.
Four pink tongues panted at him and one golden paw pawed at his leg.
"Go on Orion, go get Will," said Bill.
At the name Will, Orion tilted his head to the side and shut his muzzle. He seemed to think a moment then trotted up each step. George followed him. The two Newfoundlands watched the two then turned away and rubbed against Bill's leg. Both heads turned and whined at him. They gave him their great big, chocolate brown eyes that pleaded for attention.
"You two are pathetic," noted Bill as he rubbed their furry rumps. "I can resist my son's eyes but not yours."
Whistling in the distance became louder as Alexander walked through the foyer through the hall which eventually led to the kitchens. In one hand was a teacup and the other held a paper of some sort he had his attention on.
"What kind of tea is that?" wondered Bill.
Alexander looked up with a curious expression. He was curious to understand if that was indeed his brother's voice he heard or not, for he had not seen Bill out of Will's room for two weeks. Seeing that it was his older brother, he raised an eyebrow and approached.
"Either my little nephew is dead or you hired the king's medical staff to watch him while you took your leave," he joked.
"Or Aidan is napping with him and he'll inform us if Will's condition worsens," answered Bill.
"That too," nodded Alexander. He raised his tea glass. "It's vanilla chi with a hint of mint. I hope you don't mind I didn't get it direct from Twining's."
"I just want tea," said Bill.
"You look like you could use an Alexander tea," said Alexander. He turned on his heels and motioned for his brother to come. "Oh, and you will be pleased to hear that Will's arm and leg are set properly. I just went over the human anatomy of a sixteen year old male and his pieced limbs are healing like normal limbs. The impact cleanly broke and I'm glad I don't have to cut Will's body open again. Chances of infection always increase the more one fiddles with bones."
"That's good. That's very good," sighed Bill. He shut his eyes as a piece of his son's pain burdening him was lifted off his shoulders.
"When was the last time you slept?" wondered Alexander. "Your face is beginning to look like my dog's."
Bill looked down at Polaris who was following them. He passed by a polished glass in the hall. Dark circles surrounded his eyes and he looked like he was three times his age with the amount of bags piling beneath them. His skin drooped low on his face and usual bright eyes were partly open. The natural active, healthy manner he kept himself was slumped and decayed.
Lowering his head, the Newfoundland's droopy brown eyes matched his. The muzzle and hanging jowls looked about right to his skin.
"Shut up Alex. I do look like Polaris," he admitted and continued walking.
Alexander raised his eyebrows as he sipped his tea. "Mm, except my poochie is more handsome than you."
"Alex, he's a dog. You think your dog is more beautiful than Colleen," said Bill.
"She's my wife, I see her all the time. I hardly see my Polaris," said Alexander.
While Alexander, baby talked and ogled over the four legged furry creature in the middle of the hall, Bill yawned and continued past the ballroom and dinning room and down another hall and down the stone stairs into the kitchen. He weaved his way around the cooks and servants who were preparing dinner to the tea cabinet. Even though the former china cabinet was filled with boxes of teas, he found none of them to his delight. Earl Grey was too English, the chi teas were too thick, he didn't feel like drinking flowers from the Chinese teas, and the fruit teas had too exciting of a flavor for his tired mouth.
Hands on his shoulders directed him to the table in the kitchen.
"I told you, I would prepare your tea for the night," Alexander's voice announced.
"What are you making me?" asked Bill, hearing glass clanging together.
"Rumbullion," replied Alexander proudly. "My tea."
"Alex, that's not tea; it is an alcoholic beverage," said Bill, turning his head to his busy brother.
"I believe the ingredients are rum, wine, lime juice, sugar, spices, and tea," reminded Alexander. "Rumbullion has tea in it and I call it my tea. It is the tea I drink on the Horse."
"Yeah, I know what you drink on your ship. Christian, your so called loyal first mate, tells me what you drink and it's a miracle you haven't died from drinking alcohol yet," noted Bill.
Alexander shrugged his shoulders. He turned his head to his brother with the usual smirk across his lips. "I believe that comment should be reserved for only your son."
"And what of your father?" wondered Bill.
"Touché," noted Alexander as he turned his head. It was apparent in the sudden anger in his voice that that comment was all the truth. "He has a drink but he's not an alcoholic anymore."
"That's not what I hear," said Bill, digging his fingernails into the wood and producing scratches into Celtic knot work. "I hear he's had a drink every night since I brought Will back."
"William," said Alexander, turning his entire body to look at his brother. He gently threw his arms from his person. "Even my sister, who hardly has a drink, has had a few too many glasses in the past two weeks. We have all been off since you brought him back. I've been to busy with my studies and alchemy set to drink. The last thing I want is to mistakenly poison Will rather than give him the medicine he needs. I can't drink if I am to be Will's physician."
"Still," said Bill. "I know how high your alcohol tolerance is."
"But it's not as high as Will's and my father's," Alexander said as he handed his brother a teacup. "Here, I lowered the amount of wine and increased the rum and tea."
Bill looked at his brother with pursed lips as he took the cup into hand. He observed the swirling liquid as if searching for some sort of powder on the surface floating in a circle. Too many a time had he fallen for his brother's medicines that suddenly caused him to feel sleepy after consumption.
"I didn't add anything," said Alexander, knowing exactly why his brother was inspecting the tea.
"You never know with you," noted Bill.
"And that is why I am who I am," announced Alexander proudly.
Back up the stone stairs, down the hall, down the longer hall, through the foyer, down another hall, and another and into his armchair, Bill Turner sat with his "tea". He rested his head against the soft cushion behind him and shut his eyes.
What was he going to do with Will? Two of his three siblings believe he hated them and the rest of the family believed him to be the most rebellious sixteen year old that walked any English street. The rebel, that wasn't his son. His son was smart, a year ahead of his fellow classmates and due to graduate at least a year and a half early. His son was quick minded and bubbling with ideas that he constantly thought about. He was bound to take command of the Seastone Trading Company and the Company was just below the East India Company. He was a mathematical philosopher. Give him an equation with a dozen digits, half a dozen different steps, and ten minutes and ten minutes later, the answer would be circled. At age seven, he was calculating the costs of an entire year's worth of spending for both the East India and Seastone Trading Company.
A year ago, everything went wrong. What exactly happened? Sixteen. Will's sixteenth birthday. He knew the exact date his Little One suddenly changed. What was it about becoming sixteen that caused Will to change who he was and into a rebel that was one step shy of being sentence to the Tower for a few weeks. The only thing saving Will's life was the now King George. The former prince and the grandson of a noble lord were always close friends. Because of that friendship, Will found himself avoiding the punishments he deserved and often spent out those punishments having tea with the King. His son should have had several months in the Tower of London for what he did to the Navy ship. Trespassing on His Majesty's naval ships and pulling out the nails on a few specific working units should have been more punishment than an afternoon sitting in the Tower for questioning.
Grumbling, Bill knew the reason Will didn't spend forever in the Tower. Not only was it the family and personal friendship with King George himself, but also the connections he had in the Royal Navy: the Beckett brothers. Cutler and Harrison just had to be the ones who found all the boys. Harrison dealt with matters of recruiting men and placing them on ships and Cutler, well, he was only part in the Navy and dealt mostly with planning the trade routes. His other half of the time was spent working for Richard.
Moaning aloud, Bill realized another connection to the family preventing Will from receiving what he deserved. David Harlow, the keeper of the Tower of London. Thanks to Alexander and his week in the tower eight years ago, David Harlow became a good friend of the Seastones and was often over for tea on days he left the Tower to the second in keeper.
It soon became evident to the discouraged father that his son was getting out of things too easily and perhaps one of the reasons he became rebellious. Not only could he use his family name while in sticky situations, but he also had the closest connections to everything of high power. Apparently, there was much going for Will and his rebellious nature.
But the one question remained: What happened to change him?
"Darling, are you awake?"
"Yes, Lottie. I'm thinking about Will," said Bill. He opened his eyes to his Charlotte and smiled. Placing the teacup on the table beside him, he set it down and then pulled his wife into his lap and cradled her against his body.
Charlotte rubbed her cheek into her husband's neck then pressed her warm lips against the skin. Her finger's smoothened his wrinkled robe. "When was the last time you changed clothes or bathed?"
"I haven't bathed since before we left and I haven't changed clothes since I arrived," replied Bill, half expecting her to jump from his lap and demand he bathe.
"I really haven't been caring about my appearance much either," admitted Charlotte, her voice hinting to something else however.
"He'll be all right. He and Aidan are napping together right now and your twin says his bones are straight and healing as they should," said Bill.
"That's what he said before," whispered Charlotte.
"He's sure this time. He went through his anatomy drawings after feeling the angles of Will's broken bones. Everything feels right," said Bill.
"Good," replied Charlotte softly.
"Have Andrew and Lily brought up their opinion of Aidan and Will to you?" asked Bill after a quiet moment.
"Nothing more than the usual sibling rivalry," replied Charlotte. Suddenly intrigued, she tilted her head back to look at him. "Why do you ask?"
"Andrew and Lily think Will hate them and love Aidan. They think Aidan is Will's favorite and he could care less about them," replied Bill.
"He does seem that way," admitted Charlotte.
"I don't know what it is about Aidan either," said Bill, admitting to his question.
"But you know Will, he is a natural father and longs for the day he can have his own children," reminded Charlotte.
Bill sighed heavily then less than gently pushed Charlotte from him to stand by the unlit fireplace. He grasped the mantel a moment then turned to her. "I don't understand. That is just it. Will is caring and loving and full of heart and compassionate and little possessive I'll admit, but he's not rebellious or a troublemaker or one who fails or does stupid things. I don't know. I've tried everything to get through to him this past year. He won't let me in. He's his old self for two people, Aidan and Elizabeth. I've seen how he behaves around her. The usual moody, I-don't-care-about-anything, attitude he puts up for us isn't what he does for them. He's Aidan's biggest brother who will always play with him and he's Elizabeth's carefree, happy, smiling fiancé eager to marry her and start a family of his own. What did we do wrong that they didn't?"
"I want to know as well, but we need to break him before we can bring him back," said Charlotte.
"I don't think the options we discussed are going to break Will of his rebellious streak. If anything, and I know Will enough to know that it will make it worse," Bill told her. He shook his head. "You saw what happened to your brother after a month at that school. He was afraid to do anything without permission. He wouldn't speak, eat, sleep, read, write, walk, or play with his alchemy set without permission. Lottie, he wouldn't leave to relieve himself without permission. After one month, he was absolutely terrified and brain washed. You admitted to me you lost part of your twin brother and it took a while to get it back. Sending Will there, to a literal bared, prison—we'll lose him forever. Speaking without permission in class results in five lashes with the belt across his forearm and you saw the bruises a week later on your brother's arm. That's not going to help Will."
"It's what he needs," Richard's voice said as he entered the room and continued to speak as he sat in his armchair opposite Bill's in correlation to the fireplace. "He is far more rebellious than Alexander was and you know Will has a choice. I'm not putting in the paperwork until after Will has chosen."
"And you think the Royal Navy is better?" wondered Bill with disbelief. "Instead of the belt, they use the lash and minimum punishment is five. There are no second chances in the Navy. One mistake and Will's back will be torn bloody. I don't want permanent bruises on my son's arm or scars on his back. There must be another way."
"Billy, darling, you said it yourself. You've tried everything to get through to him, and you admitted you've gotten nowhere," reminded Charlotte.
"So you think doing this to Will is going to help him?" wondered Bill.
Lowering her head, Charlotte heaved a great sigh. She stepped forward and placed her palm on his cheek. "I don't what else to do. I want my Little One back."
"Taking away all his freedom and putting him in a prison on land or sea will surely take away all of Will that is inside of him," Bill told her.
"Will has made his own choices William," said Richard. Although he just sat himself down, he stood and stepped forward to his cabinet where he stored his finest alcohols. "As did you."
"Richard, you've had a glass, perhaps more than one glass, every night for the past two weeks. If you think you are going to consume any alcohol of any kind tonight, you will soon find yourself sitting in that same storage room you spent a month in getting it out of your head that you depended on alcohol. I mean that in a very caring way as well," Bill told him.
The hand that reached for the little knob on the glass door lowered and the body that stood in front of the cabinet resumed itself in the comfortable armchair. Richard gave a nod of his head and his lips pursed to the right and that same eyebrow raised. "I'd rather not do that again."
"And here you are telling me that Will and I made our own choices when you chose to do that to your own blood born son for all those years," said Bill, irritancy and anger in his voice. "I chose to come back for my family after you told me away and I chose for Alex to burn the hell out of my arm to stay with—"
His voice cut short as his head tilted to the side. A light flickered in his eyes as they stared off into the distance. Such an idea came over him that his mind forgot to blink or breathe. He stood there with inspiration on his face.
"If I can get the reason for Will's sudden rebelling out of him and him to end it all as quickly as he began it, would you forget sending him to that school or to the Navy?" he asked.
"That would depend on the reason he decided to cause me to lose the rest of my hair color and half my hair. If it is reason enough and understandable why he changed then we'll discuss other options," said Richard with a nod. He paused then turned his attention to Bill. "For the record, I don't want to send Will to that school either, nor do I want him in the Navy, but if I had to chose I would have him in the Navy. Those two brothers would place him with a captain who understands limitations of punishment, yet would know when Will has done something deserving of punishment."
"I myself know a few captains who went through the same rebellious streak Will is going through and their fathers sent them to the Academy. I know Harry and Beck. They would send Will with one of them," said Bill. He raised a firm forefinger at Richard. "But this doesn't mean I want my son in the Navy. It simply means he would be all right if he did join. I still intend to get it out of him."
"Just how do you intend to get through to Will?" wondered Richard.
"I'm his father. I know my son," said Bill. He smiled. "The same method my father used to get me out of my small rebellious streak which I did have when I was fourteen. If you don't believe me, ask Gabriel. Father about killed me, on more than one occasion."
"Including you and Alece?" wondered Richard, a smirk widening across his face.
Bill's eyes narrowed as he suddenly remembered his punishment for that one. "No, that was me and Alece being bored and curious and alone and having done everything but and us having known each other since her birth and when I can remember and us knowing we loved each other and us figuring why not." He turned his attention to Charlotte. "Did you know our son did the night of Elizabeth's birthday?"
"I know, Elizabeth came to me and asked me our first time," said Charlotte.
The expression his face changed from him knowing he was a fool to wide and pale yet blushing. "You didn't tell her did you?" he asked quickly.
"I told her a few things, nothing bad I promise. I told her a few female things she should know of and what to expect and how to make it more comfortable the next morning," replied Charlotte.
"I do believe everyone knows what Will and Elizabeth did that night," said Richard. "And I will admit I'm impressed. Not only did he wait until she was sixteen while going through his rebellious streak, but he was the oldest of all of us to make love to a woman. I was fifteen as were you and your brother Charlotte, Gabriel was just sixteen, and William, you were fourteen."
"Stupid, bored, curious teenagers," said Bill in his defense and raised his palms as if to make the attempt that his hands were clean in that matter or to indicate that it was a long time ago and his hands were now clean of it. "And now if you will excuse me, I need to sleep. My eyes are pleading for me to close them. Don't attempt to wake me for dinner either because I doubt I'll wake for the next two days."
With the unfinished so called "tea" left on the table, he walked from his room and up the main stairs to the third level of the manor where the bedrooms were. As usual, he found himself walking tiredly into his son's room.
"Orion, off the bed," he told a certain golden retriever who was lying at Will's feet.
The dog simply looked at him, flicked his tail, and remained where he was.
Shaking his head and not in the mood to argue with a dog, Bill observed the two boys. They were just as he left them: Aidan under his brother's arm snuggled against his body and Will asleep with his forehead pressed into his brother's face both under the blanket he laid across them. They were fine; he knew that.
As he walked across the hall to his bedroom, the thought of having a quick hot bath sounded very nicely until he thought about falling asleep in the water. From his own personal experience, falling asleep in a hot bath was wonderful, but waking to ice cold water and a shivering, blue body was not on his favored personal experiences. Instead, he walked to the two great windows and pulled the curtains shut tightly. He simply dropped the robe and slipped his feet from the slippers as he walked across the near dark room to the bed. He sunk into the mattress and curled the blanket around his body.
With a great yawn, he shut his eyes as he surrendered himself to sleep. Yet, a few questions were on his mind. How was he supposed to tell his son he had two choices to make? Better yet, how was he going to tell his son of the scars on his body? And what if that didn't work? Which of the two choices would Will make?
"Go away," Bill muttered to his thoughts.
He pulled the blanket over his head and everything suddenly calmed as his mind unconditionally surrendered to slumber.
A Note from TurtleHeart:
Okay, i know that wasn't a week like i promised and i sincerly apologize, but, alas, who can predict when things come up and make life busy. Anyway, ideas are always appreciated on what i've got up.