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11 year old William ducked behind a parked carriage and tried to catch his breath. Once this was sufficiently accomplished, he began searching around him frantically for one of two things. Either his mate, James... or the ruddy bastards that were chasing the two of them.
God, what had they gotten themselves in to?
It had started out simple enough, hadn't it? William had been sitting with his friend on a park bench. William, being of a rather bookish nature, had been reading aloud from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. It was a wonderful play if William's opinion mattered at all. James didn't care much for plays... or any kind of literature in general, but he listened quietly to William recite the words. They were good mates, the two of them were. Would have tolerated anything from each other...
And then it happened. A stone, seeming to fall from the sky, hit William on the top of his head. He dropped his book and looked up. James was already searching for the culprit.
He found him. Or rather them. A passel of boys across the way. All of them were bigger than either James or William, and they looked at least a year or so older.
"Ey, what'd you have to go and do a thing like that for? He wasn't doin' nuffin' to you!"
"It's all right." William said in a low voice. "Let's just go home." James looked down at William with a look of anger on his face. It was anger at William - but only because he refused to stick up for himself. His eyes left William, and then began raking over the steps for something.
And he found it. The stone. He took it in his hand and threw it as hard as he could over to the group of boys before William could protest. It hit one of them in the face, and he fell to the ground. Two of them knelt down to tend to him, and the other two wasted no time before running in James and William's direction. William was slow to react, but James was already up and running away as fast as he could with William's arm in his hand.
"Where are we going?" He called out loudly as the two friends swirved out of the way of people and horses, and various other things.
"Don't know, mate." The boy answered. "Shouldn't have thrown that stone." William pulled himself out of James' grip in an I-can-run-myself-thankyou kind of way.
"I know you shouldn't have." James stopped, but only to look around for some place to escape to. Already sweat had begun to drip down the sides of his face. It would begin to collect dirt soon. His mother would be very displeased.
"No," he said, still looking around quickly. Then he met William's eyes. "They shouldn't have thrown it at you." William laughed shortly. James began running again.
"Follow me!" He yelled behind him. William started running again to catch up to his friend, but the street was crowded. He couldn't see him. Too many people. Too many things in the way.
"James!" He called out, but he got no response.
"There they are!" He heard from not too a far away. He risked a look behind him and saw that the group of boys were not too far behind him.
"Bloody..." He searched frantically for his friend, but couldn't find him...
Now he hid behind this carriage - breathing heavily, and not knowing what was going to happen. He raked his shaking hands through his curly brown hair, then put a hand over his violently beating heart. What would those boys do to him if they found him?
~~~*HOURS LATER*~~~
William's head nodded, and he realized he had almost fallen asleep. And why not? He had been slouching in this dank ally for God knew how long... the sun had long since departed, and the carriage that had offered him some sort of asylum before - was now gone as well. The street was quite deserted... and William's mother must have been worrying. James had probably made it home ages ago. William took a deep breath, stood up, and then dusted himself off.
The night was cold, and the wind stung painfully at William's face as he solemnly made his way back home. All he had wanted out of today - was to enjoy the beautiful sunlight, and the beautiful blue sky in the company of his best friend, and a good book.
So much for that He thought to himself angrily...
He made it back home in a little under and hour, and knocked on the door so that Rosalee, the family servant who had her quarters on the ground floor of the home, would answer... and not his mother or father who would certainly be furious with him for being out so late. And what would he tell them? Not the truth!
The door opened, and it was Rosalee sure enough.
"Mr. William..." She said as though she had not seen him in years. She sighed in what seemed to be relief. William stepped in to the house, and creased his forehead. It looked like the dark haired woman had been crying.
"Rosalee, what--" He was interrupted by his mother hurrying in to the room.
"William?" She asked. When she saw it was him, she rushed over to him in tears and scooped him in to her arms. William did not return the embrace right away - as he was very confused as to the reason of him receiving it.
"Mother--"
"Oh, thank God... thank God you're all right." She pulled away from him a little. "Oh, let me look at you... My William! Oh, you're so dirty..." She chuckled lightly. The tears had not yet dried from her face - but there was a sparkle of happiness in her eyes. She pulled him to her again. "Oh, but that's all right. Oh, my darling child!" All right, William had had enough of this. He wriggled out of his mother's arms and stared her in the eyes.
"Mother... why are you acting as though I have just come back from the dead...?" Slowly, the happiness evaporated from his mother's eyes. She looked up at Rosalee with sadness overcoming her features - then looked back at her son.
"William... James Everworth..." She paused. William suddenly felt very fearful of her mother's words.
"What about James... mother?" He asked quietly.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Spike ducked out of the way, and managed not to get kicked in the head with Buffy's sharp as a stake bootheel. He laughed. The sound was oddly loud in the dark, empty cemetary.
"Whoa... didn't mean to call out the calvary on that one, pet." Buffy glared at spike, ready to beat him in to dust. "I was just saying that with the way you and Xander pal around, I wouldn't be surprised if you had ever given each other a go. I mean, it would explain why you don't date. Is he as useless in the sack as G.I. Joke was?"
"Spike, you're disgusting. Me and Xander have never been anything more than friends. I'm sure even you understand the concept of a friend." Spike waggled his eyebrows. Buffy stared at him expressionlessly. "Obviously not." She began to walk away. "You would have had to have had a friend once in your life to understand one." Spike ran out in front of her.
"Hey..." He said. "I've had friends." Buffy crossed her arms over her denim clad chest. "Well, I have."
"Whatever, Spike. I don't know why I talk to you. It's like there's some mystical power that wrote out an agenda for me. 'Eight o' clock, head to cemetary. Eight-thirty, beat up Spike - have useless conversation. Nine o' clock, leave cemetary annoyed'. I seriously do not have time for you." She turned to leave again. Spike grabbed her by the arm.
"I had friends." He said. "I even had a life before you."
Buffy pulled her arm away from Spike in a disgusted way that told him clearly not to touch her.
"Oh, really? And what was that like? Staying up all night talking to Drusilla about how bad her dolls had been that day? Invigorating." Spike's face stayed serious.
"I was human once." He said. "More human than you, I'd wager. At least I felt emotion and I didn't beat the living hell out of the people who loved me." Buffy was quiet. "Yeah, I had a friend. And I couldn't help him anymore than you'll be able to help your precious scoobies with the attitude that you've adopted as of late. So why don't you piss off?" He turned around, and walked away - giving Buffy no more than a simple, rigid, wave of his hand.
Buffy watched him walk away vaguely wondering what the hell that had been about.
"Leaving the cemetary annoyed..." She bagan walking. "Check."
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