Shepherd's Pie
“Warren, we need to talk.”
Warren didn’t even look up from his book. “What about?”
Will sighed, and sat heavily on the edge of the bed. “You don’t eat.”
Warren sighed, shoulders sagging a little, eyes closing. “So?”
“So you don’t eat.” Will crossed his arms. “Warren, I’m worried about you. Food is important, you know. Keeps you alive.”
“I’m alive,” the other pointed out, rolling over so that he faced the younger hero, eyes dark.
“Yeah.” Will nodded once. “For how long, Warren? I’m worried. I think I deserve to be.”
Warren rolled his eyes, flopping onto his back. “You’ve got to be kidding. We’ve been dating since High School, Stronghold. Why are you suddenly deciding that this is a big deal now? You know how I am. You’ve known since we were freshmen.”
“I know you didn’t eat lunch, yeah,” Will shook his head. “Warren, when we moved in together, I realized that you not only don’t eat lunch, you just don’t eat. An apple here or there, and bottles of water everywhere... that’s not a diet, Warren. Never mind a balanced one, that just isn’t a diet! You’re too skinny, you have continued to lose weight since we started going out, you... you barely sleep, yet you’re tired all the time. You’re always working out, but you don’t have calories to burn off! And I know this is crazy Warren, but I looked it up. Turns out that your ability to bruise on the drop of a hat, and freeze with the slightest drops in temperature? That’s a symptom of anorexia, Warren. Anorexia.”
“I’m not anorexic,” Warren sneered. “I just don’t eat as much as you.”
“No kidding, because I eat,” Will snapped, then forced his anger down, heavily. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. I’m trying to be reasonable, Warren, I am. But I am really worried about you!”
“Don’t be,” Warren growled, and stood, moving to storm from the room.
Will ran after him, wrapping his arms tightly around Warren’s waist. “Warren, wait. Look... I can count your ribs. I couldn’t do that before. You were skinny, yeah, but... I’m scared, Warren.”
Warren crossed his arms, stubbornly looking away from the hero pressed to his back. “Of what?”
“Of losing you,” Will whispered, tightening his hold a little. “If you died on me, Peace... I’m going to make a truce with Necromancer, and get her to raise you from the dead so I can kill you for leaving me like that!”
“I’m not going to die,” Warren muttered mutinously.
“How do you know?” Will demanded. “You’re wasting away right in front of me, Warren! I freaking love you, and you’re dying a little everyday. What do I do then, huh? How do I pretend everything’s normal when my lover has just starved himself to death?!”
“I’m not starving,” Warren said coldly. “I’m just not hungry.”
“Why not?!” Will demanded, crying. He didn’t want to cry, he wanted to be strong and powerful, he wanted to live up to his hero name, but he couldn’t help it. The man he loved wasn’t listening, damn it! Burying his wet face in between Warren’s razor-sharp shoulder blades, he cried as he continued, voice rough, “Did I do something wrong? Was it me?”
Warren sighed, leaning his head back, Will being at just the right height that the back of Warren’s head rested lightly on the top of Will’s. “I just... I haven’t been able to eat. Not since...” he paused. “Not since that night.”
Warren, nine years old, shoveled his father’s famous shepherd’s pie in his mouth, grinning as he talked with his mouth full.
“We really had fun at school today, daddy! We were doing an assignment on volcanoes, and Mr. Roberts was really impressed with how much I knew about the effects of lava and fire on things!”
Baron Battle laughed, reaching over to ruffle his son’s hair. “That’s great, Warren. Tomorrow, if your teacher asks, tell her...”
He never finished what he had been about to say, because at that moment, there was a crash, and their door fell in as costumed heroes streamed in, headed by The Commander.
“Baron Battle!” Commander yelled. “On behalf of the Superhero’s Guild of America, you are under arrest!”
“No!” Warren screamed, trying to beat them off, trying to get to his dad. He flared up, flames going everywhere until his father stopped him with a hand to his forehead, gentle.
“No, Warren,” Baron said, slowly, smiling, sad. “No. Don’t fight. Finish your dinner, champ. I’ll see you soon.”
Warren never finished his dinner.
And he hasn’t seen his father since.
“My father was arrested, during dinner,” Warren said softly. “I just... food sticks now, chokes me, when I try to eat. I can’t. I just... I can’t.”
Will hugged tighter, sniffling, eyes red and face wet. “We can do something, Warren. There are doctors...”
“Yeah,” Warren said lightly, looking away. “Doctors.”
Return to Sky High.