Title: Spector
Author: Tiffany Adams
Summary: Willy is haunted by his past ans seeks Lucas for support
Rating: R
Pairings: Willy/Lucas
Spoilers: season 2 of the web series, my fanfic "Demon" 
Disclaimer: The characters of Willy, Bucky, Deadeye, Jenny, Bruiser,
and Blinky belong to Neal Adams and co. The characters of Lucas
Macarthur, Fritz Warner, and Kadaf Warner belong to DJ Clawson. Just
try to sue me. I have no $$. The lawyer fee will be more than the
settlement.

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!
This story has a heavy "R" rated for themes of homosexuality,
bisexuality, and sexual abuse. If you think you are not capable of
handling a serious story about any of those themes, please skip this
fanfic.
___________________________________________________

	"Can we give him some more xanax? I don't think he's getting
enough relief." His mother's concerned voice was agitating to Willy,
only because he felt helpless, unable to stabilize his breathing
enough to ask the question himself.

	"No, we need to give it more time to kick in." The ER doctor's
cold stethescope pressed against his bare chest, making him
uncomfortable. The doctor held it there for a solid thirty seconds
before removing it. "His heart rate is dropping down a bit, so I think
it's working. He just needs to calm down."

	It was easier said then done; he'd been trying to use meditative
techniques to escape this for a solid two hours, without any major
success. It frustrated him endlessly; this was his first major panic
attack in ten years that he hadn't been able to control by breathing.
He wished Jenny were here, then reminded himself that he had no desire
to let her in on what was happening. 

	But the drug seemed to be working; he felt unnaturally calm,
fascinated by the ceiling tiles and having little desire to do
anything but stare at them. His mother squeezed his hand as his father
talked to the doctor, but he tuned it out. He didn't want to think
about anything right now, especially the implications of what had just
happened. All he wanted to do was sleep.

		**************************************


	Lucas turned away from his scrolls momentarily to stare at his
empty emailbox on his computer. He was the only resident of the temple
to have his own personal computer, which he mainly used for
communicating with his old friends in the technology blackmarket.
Sure, he hadn't committed any acts of terrorism in two years, but it
was a good idea just to stay in touch, in case of emergencies. And,
more importantly, it was his way to keep in touch with Willy, who had
long-since connected his home computer to the aniverse systems through
his photon accelerator.

	But Willy hadn't contacted him in two weeks - the longest stretch
he'd gone since their weekend in Tennesse. Lucas idly wondered if it
was aniversian fleet stuff, but he doubted it. The priest had made a
point to keep up with the Bucky O'Hare-related news - sure, it was a
little stalker-ish to monitor an old flame, but what harm could really
come of watching the news? Anyway, the war with the toads had been
rather uninteresting recently, unless the press was going uninformed
about some sort of major project. 

	Curious, he officially put down his ink brush and prophecy writing
to turn his attention to the computer. He quickly dropped into a
not-so-legal chat room, that appeared to be a conversation about the
latest musical bands on Genus if one didn't have the right decoder -
which he did. But his efforts were fruitless - no one seemed to have
any underground news about the fleet's doings, except for some passing
notes about some undercover work being done by the Screaming Mimi crew
on Reptilia. 

	"Crap. Nothing," He excused himself and logged out. It was growing
frustrating. Was Willy blowing him off? Had he reconnected with Scott?
Was his 'fling' with Lucas just a passing thing and the connection
between them just something he had kept up for a few weeks to be nice,
and now he was putting up a wall of silence to indicate he wanted to
put the past behind him? It didn't seem like the Willy he knew; he was
too kind. 

	He'd already emailed Willy. He wanted to talk to someone about his
concerns. Someone like Bucky or Jenny would undoubtably know what was
up if it was a mundane war thing, but Lucas was pretty sure it would
violate their agreement to keep their relationship private if he put
in a call to his nemesis requesting information. Bucky was a moron,
but Jenny was not. He had to be careful around her if he wanted to
honor his promise.

	So who else would know about Willy? Going to his parents seemed a
little extreme, especially if it was an aniversian thing keeping Willy
busy, which they wouldn't be clued into at all. Who kept tabs on the
little engineer and knew about both worlds? Other than -

	It hit him like a two-by-four. Fritz Warner. The rabbit who made
it his business to know everything about everyone. He knew about the
abuse pasts of both human residents of the aniverse, and about their
one-night stand; it would be shaming to Fritz if Lucas thought
otherwise. 

	Now, if only he could justify disturbing him ... Too late, he'd
already typed up the connection and the vid-screen was powering up. It
was Fritz's private line, so he answered it immediately.

	"Oh. Hello," the Chairman seemed a bit surprised. "What is it? I'm
busy."

	"Uhm ...," Lucas stumbed over his words. "Is anything ... going
on?" He'd never really called the politician without a straightforward
purpose.

	"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard from you." Fritz
seemed annoyed. "And I've heard a lot of stupid things from you. Now
what is it? I've got worlds to run."

	"Uh ... it's sort of a silly thing, actually -,"

	"Obviously," Fritz gave him a strange look, which now showed a
hint of concern. "What is this about? You must be really freaked out
about something if you don't come out and say it."

	" - It's about Willy," Lucas said quickly.

	But the rabbit didn't seem surprised. "Oh. What is it?"

	He now felt even more ridiculous. "He ... hasn't called."

	"I'm not your relationship counselor, Lucas." 

	"I was just wondering if something was going on ... or something,"
he offered. 

	Fritz seemed eager to end the conversation and get back to his
paperwork. "Look, if it satisfies you, Captain O'Hare has made
complaints that Willy hasn't been himself recently. But that's private
information, so consider yourself lucky I'm a generous guy. Anything
else?"

	Lucas wanted to probe him, but the Chairman didn't seem eager to
be probed. "No. Thank you."

	"Whatever." Fritz severed the connection, and Lucas leaned back in
his chair. Something was up, though he really had no way of finding
out what it was.

		****************************************

	"Engineer DuWitt?"

	Bucky was using the formal voice. Bucky was an informal guy; when
he used the formal voice, Willy knew he was in trouble. Sighing, he
put down his tools on the bench of engineering and stood up slowly to
salute his superior officer. He was still moving noticably slowly, if
his captain was watching.

	"At ease," Bucky seemed to soften his speech, seeming to notice
his unnaturally attitude putting Willy off. Before the words came out
of his mouth, Willy knew what the conversation was going to be about.
"Listen, Willy - I don't mean to disturb you, but your performance as
of late has been ... well, you just haven't been your usual self."

	He didn't try to defend himself, saying unnaturally calmly, "I
know."

	This seemed to surprise Bucky. "You know what I'm talking about?"

	"Yeah. And I'm sorry." Willy didn't want to discuss this with
Bucky, and tried to be vague. "I've ... had some stuff going on at
home. My mind hasn't been in the right place for battle, I know." He
didn't want to add that he would try harder, because he wasn't sure
that he could.

	"Do you want to talk about it?" Bucky offered.

	"No," he said simply.

	"Well ...," Bucky looked unsure of where to proceed; Willy was
usually willing to talk. "I want to give you some slack and assume
whatever your mind's on is important, but this is war. You have to be
on your toes at all times; you have to be in top form."

	Willy looked away; he knew what Bucky was saying. His captain was
telling him his behavior was making them think they couldn't depend on
him. And it was probably true - he was on some major drugs to stave
off panic attacks, and it was affecting his response time to danger
and zapping his enthusiasm for just about anything. "I know, Captain."

	The hare added as gently as possible. "I think maybe you need some
time off."

	It was what he did and didn't want to here at the same time. He
knew it was what he needed to get better, but at the same time it was
a source of defeat. "Okay." It seemed weird to just say it; maybe it
was the xanax talking. 

	Bucky was clearly perturbed by how well he was taking this. "...
Good. Are you sure you don't want to talk about this?"

	"Yes. I'll handle it." It wasn't true - he was *not* handling
this, but Lord knew he wasn't going to clue Bucky in. He would have to
find another source of strength.

		**********************************

	"Willy - "

	<Shit...> The last person he wanted to see had shown up, just as
he had come close finishing packing up his tools. "Hello," he said as
nuetrally as possible, not looking in her direction.

	"Willy," Jenny's voice was full of concern. "Bucky told me you
were taking leave."

	"It's for the best. I have some stuff to deal with at home, and
then I'll come back, all right?" He tried to put finality into his
voice. "And I *don't* want to talk about it."

	"Willy, you've never cut me off like this -,"

	"I know. But I am. I don't want you to be a part of this." He was
now being borderline rude. "Jenny, I have to go this alone. You know,
like you always do whenever something with your family comes up?"
Willy knew it was a bit of a low blow, but he was growing desperate. 

	Jenny had no response for a moment. "Fine. But if you want to talk
- "

	"I'll talk. But I don't want to. Especially right now." He turned
on the accelerator and stepped through the door before she could
answer him. Once home, he collapsed on the bed, taking a deep breath.
This wasn't happening. He wasn't losing his job and all of his friends
to this - 

		*********************************************

	Lucas had himself nearly buried in a mountain of scrolls when the
knock on the door came. While the temple on Noctur Two was being
renovated, he and the monks he lived with were forced to relocate to
temporary housing in town, and he now had a two-room and bathroom
apartment, which was mainly filled with scrolls used for recording his
prophecies, his necessities - clothes and the like, and his computer.

	He wanted to tell whoever it was to fuck off, that he was in the
middle of recording another vision, but then it occurred to him that
he rarely had visitors, and the monks didn't like to disturb him.
"Come."

	There was the sound of the door sliding open, and he didn't look
up from his scrolls until he heard a very familiar voice, now weak and
vunerable. "Hey."

	It was Willy DuWitt. Lucas jumped up from his seat, immediately
disgarding his brush, and went to embrace him from sheer joy, but
Willy shrunk away from it. "No, don't. I don't want to be touched
right now."
It was then that he first noticed Willy's uncharecteristicly calm
exterior. He hadn't been rude in rejecting Lucas's hug, just
frightened. 

	"Okay," Whatever it was, it was about to come out. "You can sit
down. Let me get you some tea." He hurried to the other end of his
small living room and turned on the small kitchen unit as Willy
collapsed onto the sofa. The tea was ready almost instantaneously, but
not soon enough for the priest, who rushed to put fresh cups down
before Willy on the coffee table. He poured the tea and sat down
opposite the shivering engineer, who seemed eager to avoid physical
contact. Willy politely took a sip.

	"I'm sorry I haven't called." Willy's words were music to Lucas'
ears; his fears were being put to rest. "I'm not blowing you off. I
just ... Christ, this is hard." He seemed to be in some sort of
physical pain as he spoke.

	"Take your time." Lucas wanted to touch him, tell him it was all
right, but it wasn't what he wanted, so he remained at a respectful
distance.

	Willy took a deep breath. "I've been having panic attacks." 

	"How bad?" Lucas had a sinking feeling that this was his fault in
some fashion, that the trip to Tennesse had shook Willy up more than
he had admitted previously. 

	"Pretty bad. Worse than what you saw," he said slowly. "I had to
tell my parents because I needed them to take me to the hospital.
Anyway, I'm being followed by a psychiatrist and I'm on tranquilizers,
which seemed to be working, which is great, except that it's affecting
my performance at work and I had to take leave - " He was getting
worked up, so Lucas held up his hand.

	"Willy, calm down," he said as gently as possible. "So you're on
leave. That's good. Did you tell -,"

	"No," he answered quickly. "You're the only one in the aniverse
that I've told. I mean, I want to tell at least Jenny, because I know
she cares about me, but how am I gonna explain it without going into
my history? And I don't want to tell them about *that.*"

	"So this is related?"

	"I don't know what it is." Willy looked at his feet. "Maybe. Maybe
I'm finally dealing with it instead of just repressing it. Maybe
that's what our little road trip did to me."

	"Oh, Willy, I'm so sorry - I didn't mean to do this to you." All
he wanted to do was hold Willy in his arms, now more than ever. "I
never should have brought it up."

	"No, I don't think it was just that." Willy was probably
deliberately trying to not look him in the eyes. "It was ... Jesus, I
don't think I can talk about this now."

	Even though he had literally left Lucas on the edge of his seat,
he would have been an ungracious host to press his pained guest. "It's
okay. You want to rest here?"

	"I would appreciate it. I just can't go back and deal with my
parents jumping all over me anymore." He still hadn't told them about
the aniverse, making his situation difficult. 

	"You can have the bed," Lucas immediately offered. "I'll sleep on
the couch."

	"That would be great. Do you have a bath tub?"

	"Sure." He offered his bathroom, which was nothing to sneeze at.
Willy downed some pills and excused himself, shutting the door behind
him and leaving Lucas with a thousand questions. It was good to know
that Willy was talking to him, but he was now not sure that he wanted
to hear what he had to say. Had he done something on their road trip
to offend Willy, to hurt him so deeply? Had Lucas pressed him too hard
into bed? Was he questioning the legality of what had happened between
them? Did he regret it? Was he thinking of going straight or
something?

	Lucas had to calm himself with evening prayers as Willy remained
stewing in the bathroom. When the engineer emerged, he was
considerably calmer but still haunted. He collapsed on the bed, next
to where Lucas was sitting over the side. 

	"You feeling better?" he said as patiently as possible.

	Willy was on his side, and closed his eyes in pain. "Yeah, I think
so. Look, I didn't mean to leave you hanging, it's just - this is
gonna be hard to say, okay?"

	Lucas nodded. "Take your time."

	And he did. Willy was silent for a solid minute. "I just ... I
have these crazy thoughts sometimes, and they really bother me." He
seemed to want to shrink into the sheets. "Maybe this was all a
mistake?"

	"What was a mistake?" Lucas' heart was officially pounding. This
was not what he wanted Willy to say. "Willy, I love you. You can say
whatever you want to me, tell me whatever you want, and it won't
bother me." Sure, it wasn't completely true, but it was the right
thing to say. And he imagined he would leave Willy alone and blame
himself for whatever came out of this conversation.

	"Thanks," Willy said half-heartedly. "But ... This is so hard to
say to you." He burrowed into the sheets. "Maybe this gay thing was a
mistake."

	"What, you're going straight?" Lucas said it with a smile on his
face, but inside his heart was breaking. "It's okay; you can just be
bi. It's very noncommital."

	But Willy remained serious. "That's not what I mean. It is, but it
isn't. What I mean is ... Sometimes, I think that maybe this whole gay
thing is just sort of me trying to replicate my experience with father
in some kind of twisted Oedipal way." 

	Nothing could have shocked Lucas more, but he was somehow able to
return the it. "For the love of Frith, you've got to stop reading
psychology books." 

	"No, I'm serious," though he did crack a smile, but it quickly
faded. "What if I had had a normal childhood? Would I be homosexual?"

	"Willy, you have no way of knowing that," Lucas defended him.
"Besides, homosexuality is not some trauma-induced aftereffect. It's a
conscious decision you made with Scott. I'm not saying you can't
change your mind, but you shouldn't be ashamed of any choices you've
made as mature young adult because your father was a perverted
bastard."

	There was another tense silence, as Willy rolled onto his back,
staring at the ceilng. "I guess you're right." He seemed unconvinced.

	Lucas towered over Willy so he would look at him when he spoke.
"Let's go back to your original decision. Why did you decide to
actively seek out men instead of women?"

	The engineer thought about it before answering, "It was Scott who
first brought it up, because he wanted to go out with me. Before then
I hadn't really thought about it. But I decided to give it a try."

	"Did you ever tell Scott about the whole business with your
father? Did you ever feel the need to bring it up?"

	"... No. I never thought about it."

	"Then why should you connect the two things? You made a decision
independent of your past. If anything, you letting it affect your
current position is just letting your dad still haunt you and impair
your ability to make your own decisions." It occurred to him that he
was coming off harsh, but he wanted to drive the point home. "I know
it's hard to put things behind you, but if you let this get in the way
of your romantic relationships, you're letting him continue to hurt
you."

	This comment made Willy look at Lucas for the first time, his
voice still removed. "I guess so." He closed his eyes, zapped of his
energy. "Okay, I believe you. But I want to rest now."

	"Can I hold you?"

	Willy's mind didn't seem to be processing that request, because
his answer was very unconcerned. "Yeah."

	More for his own benefit, Lucas climbed onto the bed and took
Willy in his arms, holding him while the younger man drifted off into
an uneasy and drugged sleep. 

		*************************************

	In what was probably hours later, Lucas himslf was jostled out of
a perfectly good sleep by the piercing but unfamiliar ringing coming
from somewhere in his room. Carefully prying himself away from Willy,
who remained undisturbed, he put his legs over the side of the bed and
opened his eyes, attempting to locate the noise. His vid-phone was
silent; so was the computer. And there was no one at the door. So the
sound had to be coming from ... 

	He picked up Willy's small backpack and opened it. Inside was some
reading material, some perscription medicine bottles, and a comm-link
- the source of his aggravation.

	"I told Captain O'Hare that he could reach me if it was an
emergency," came Willy's distilled voice. Lucas turned around, and the
young man was still lying on the bed, but his eyes were about half
open. 

	"Do you want to talk to him?" Lucas said over the noise of the
ringing. He couldn't personally think of anything worthy of Willy's
time, but the engineer might have different ideas.

	"No. Get rid of him." He reclosed his eyes, his speech slurred. He
was still somewhat drugged from his medication and clearly had no
desire to respond to his superior officer's call. 

	Lucas hesitantly turned on the comm-link. "Hello?"

	"Who is this?" Bucky's harried voice came over the humm of
machines. "Where's Willy?"

	"He's ... uh, not really available," he dropped his voice an
ochtave when he spoke. He had a lot of good lines saved up for this
particular hare, but he didn't want to use them and ruin Willy's
cover, whatever it was.

	"Can you ask him something? Because it's really important -,"

	"Christ, I'll take it." With great effort, Willy sat up on the bed
and grabbed the comm-link out of his hand. "Yeah?"

	"Oh, Willy, good. Listen, Blinky has a question about -,"

	Lucas tuned the rest of Bucky's side of the conversation out;
listening to the space hero always made him aggravated, and he needed
to focus on Willy, who was responding to the conversation with yes's
and no's, before finally describing why some polarity should not
reversed in what seemed like excruciating detail for someone who would
rather be sleeping off his medication. It took him about five minutes
to get Bucky to hang up, upon which he groaned and collapsed back on
the bed, hurling the comm-link across the room.

	"I'm sorry," Lucas sympathesized.

	"Yeah, well, thanks for not blowing up at him," Willy
acknowledged. "I need to reprogram Blinky with the new specs for the
accelerator. That's what I should have done before I took leave,
but-,"

	"- Fuck it. You're sick. The Righteous can fend for itself." He
had a feeling he was saying what Willy was thinking. "You want to go
back to sleep?"

	The engineer had his eyes closed, but he said, "No, I really
should wait. I'm completely throwing off my sleeping schedule with
this medication."

	"When are you getting off it? This is some powerful stuff." Lucas
laid down next to him.

	"I'm being tapered off as soon as the paxil is given enough time
to kick in. It takes a little longer than straight sedatives for your
bloodstream to work up proper levels to get any relief. But this xanax
is really good stuff. I haven't had any major attacks since I went on
it in the hospital three days ago."

	"Why did you go to the hospital?"

	"Because I woke up and couldn't breathe, and I woke Mom and Dad. I
think they flipped out a little bit 'cuz I hadn't told them that I've
basically been having minor attacks since our trip." Willy opened his
eyes and looked at Lucas. "I hope you don't mind, but I had to give
them a lot of details about the trip, and I was pretty drugged, so I
wasn't hiding anything."

	"Of course I don't mind," Lucas said softly. "I'm really sorry for
doing this to you."

	He was quick to answer, "It isn't your fault. I'm the one who's
completely flipping out just because you mentioned my father in
passing. That's just not very cool of me. I should be handling this
better."

	"Willy, you had some bad shit happen to you, and you repressed it
because you were seven. Now you're dealing with it. It's a sign that
you're maturing. No one said it was gonna be easy to do it." Lucas ran
his finger down Willy's bare forearm, getting neither rejection nor
welcoming from him. "Are you being followed by a psychiatrist?"

	"Three times a week. Different guy from my old one. I didn't want
to go back to Dr. Hibbert."

	"Was he the guy that treated you when you moved in with the
DuWitts?"

	"Yes." Willy said without emotion, "Right after the court gave
them to me, we moved to San Francisco and did the whole name-changing
thing to give me a fresh start. The whole mess with Dad's trial and
all the psychologists and investigators I had to talk to, on top of
moving in with people I didn't know in a totally new enviroment was a
shock to my system and I started having panic attacks." As he spoke,
his voice began to quiver. "Part of me wanted to go back and live with
my father and sister like nothing had happened, so things could be
normal again. It didn't really occur to me that what Dad was doing was
wrong until I was taken away from him."

	Lucas took Willy's open hand and tugged it. "Willy, I think you
need to stop talking."

	"I know." He was shaking a little bit. "But it feels good to talk
to you. I feel like I can say anything."

	"You *can* say anything," he began to stroke Willy's long hair.
The boy was on his side, slowly curling up into a tense ball, and
Lucas wanted to distract him. "No one gets anything from me that I
don't offer. Well ... except maybe Fritz Warner, but the guy has
everything on everyone."

	"Chairman Warner is creepy." Willy admitted. "I wonder if he's
every shown anyone my psych file. It must be like an inch thick."

	"Oh, I assure you, you're not alone on that." Lucas smiled evily.
"Did I ever tell you some of the other stuff I found when I went
through his files?"

	"Don't tell me anything that's really private, but go ahead."

	The distraction seemed to be doing Willy good, so Lucas offered,
"Did I ever tell you about Jonathan Weissman?"

	"What about Jonathan Weissman?"

	He prompt himself up on one elbow, caressing Willy's cheek. "He's
got all these superpowers because he was part of a government
experiment to make a superbeing. It's very Superman-meets-X-Files-y."

	Willy smiled for the first time since he had arrived. "What else?"

	"Deadeye's real name is Cecil. Apparently, corsair canards have
this tradition of giving kids really lame names and then renaming them
when they come of age." 

	"That's a riot." He chuckled. "I'm gonna have to bother him about
that."

	"Hey, you didn't get it from me. Oh, and Bucky used to do a lot of
pot before the war. He was this hippie artist type. He and the
Chairman used to toke up together."

	The new turn in the conversation seemed to put Willy at ease; he
was slowly able to uncurl from his fetal position as Lucas continued
to tell him gossip about various U.A.C. members. His breathing
steadied and he looked ready to go back to sleep, though he was
clearly trying to keep himself awake.

	"Go to sleep," Lucas commanded, nearly physically shutting his
eyelids. "You'll feel better in the morning."

	"Whatever..." Willy sounded like he had very little faith in that
comment, but he obeyed and buried his face in the pillow, drifting off
into a peaceful, more natural sleep. It was a great relief to the
priest to see him more settled than he had been in his previous forced
nap. Lucas kissed him on the forehead and retreated to his own side of
the bed. 

		*******************************************

	 When Lucas drifted into that gray area between sleeping and
wakefulness, he didn't rush to open his eyes, as he tried to remember
why he was on the wrong side of the bed. Then he recalled that Willy
had a preference to the left side, and that he was indeed sharing his
bed once again with the young engineer. Reaching out, he was surprised
to find the space next to him vacant, and with much curiousity he
opened one eye.

	No Willy. Though the bed was slept in, so he was fairly sure he
hadn't dreamed the whole encounter. And in the distance, he could hear
the vid-link in the other room tuned into the news. Stretching
luxuriously, he climbed out of bed, noting that he had never had a
chance to change and had slept in his monk robe. He tore it off,
leaving him in a black T-shirt and boxers, and threw on a robe. He
wandered casually out into the other room, where Willy was indeed
watching the news.

	"What is it with you and black?" Willy seemed more collected, more
pleasant than he had been previously.

	"Prophets wear black. There's a whole color scheme to follow."
Lucas bent over and kissed Willy on the cheek, then crashed on the
sofa next to him. "Ordinary mortals wear brown, scribes purple,
channelers maroon, immortals off-white, gods white. The list goes on
and on." 

	"You could die your hair black."

	"Hair is not something you wear. It's a part of you," he
explained, glancing over at the vid-screen, which had a newscaster
giving the latest on the toad wars.

	"Why is your hair white?" It seemed odd that Willy had never asked
the question before; maybe it had never occurred to him to ask.

	"Because when I have visions, I achieve a connection with
divinity, and it turns my hair permenantly white. You know, like
Charleton Heston in the Ten Commandments? He went up to the burning
bush and when he came down his hair had white in it." Lucas
unconsciously scratched his head. "The kids at school used to call me
ghost."

	"The kids at school used to call me 'Weird Willy.'" Willy said
thoughtfully, "I never really understood it, because I wasn't that
weird. I was smart, but that isn't particularly weird. I didn't do
anything strange but take advanced classes and wreck the curve."

	"Maybe they were just picking up on your uniqueness."

	Willy raised one eyebrow at him. "Yeah, whatever." He glanced at
his watch. "Anyway, I think I have to get home before my parents start
freaking out. I said I might spend the night out but I would be back
by noon, and I have to go all the way back to Genus - " He stood up.
"Look, Lucas, I appreciate -,"

	"You don't have to," he held his hand up to stop him in
mid-sentence. 

	"No, I mean it. And I'm sorry for dumping all of that oedipal shit
on you. It's just - you know, paranoia or something. I'll have to talk
to my shrink about it."

	Lucas finally asked, "Do you still regret what we did?"

	"Of course not." Willy sounded offended, and he took Lucas's hand
in his own. "No, look, I didn't mean to come off that way. I was just
really freaking out because I didn't understand why I couldn't get
over something that happened ten years ago, and I wasn't thinking
straight. I was just having all of these crazy thoughts that wouldn't
go away until I out and said them. But I don't think I meant any of
them. I mean, I guess it'll always be in the back of my head if I
remain gay, but this ... weird sort of relationship we have now is
*good* and I like it, and I want it to continue." He frowned. "No,
that's not what I mean."

	But the priest understood. "You don't want to be in a
'relationship' right now but you enjoy our time together." It hurt him
to say it, but he knew Willy wasn't ready for any kind of more
permenant attachment, especially with all of this post-traumatic mess.

	"Damnit, Lucas, why are you so good at this?" he demanded.

	"Because, unlike you, I have nothing to lose but you. I have no
ties or responsibilities to anyone, except maybe the temple, but I
could leave it all behind if I wanted to. Well, except to Frith, and
the visions he sends me. But I don't have a choice in that. Otherwise,
I have nothing tying me down, except the fact that I am completely in
love with you."

	The final sentence seemed to put Willy off, and the priest knew
why. As much as it hurt him to think about it, their love was not
mutual - Willy respected him, liked spending time with him, depended
on him, maybe loved him in a minor way, but he wasn't *in* love with
him.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring that up."

	"It's okay. I know it's true." A lot was going unsaid, and maybe
it was better that way.

	"Willy, I know you can't do the relationship thing right now, and
that's okay, because you've got major shit to deal with, and it would
be an unnecessary hassle. But it's okay. We've got the rest of our
lives."

	"You mean it?" He scratched his head. "How do you know, anyway?"

	"I'm living to a hundred and five, Willy," he said in his creepy
prophet way.

	"Oh really? How old am I gonna be when I die?"

	Lucas smiled. "I can't tell you. It's a secret."

	Willy immediately proceeded to tackle the priest to try to get it
out of him, but Lucas remained firm, "No way, man. Go bother another
prophet." They fell to the ground in a flurry of roughhousing and
giggling. 

	"You know what I love about you?" Lucas stifled his laughter
enough to talk.

	"Go on. Shower me with praise."

	"You always have these really innocent questions, and you ask them
like you're some ten-year-old kid who's in some kind of amusement
park. You always want to know more." Lucas was lying on the floor
staring up at Willy. "It's just adorable."

	Maybe it was meant to be an innocent peck on the cheek, and maybe
it wasn't. Either way, there was nothing innocent about the kiss that
passed between them, which was quickly followed up by another, and
another - in fact, there was no real break point until they eventually
had to come up for air.

	"Okay, I didn't come here to do this," Willy shook himself out. 

	"But you want to," Lucas said without hesitation.

	"Damnit, stop being so good at reading me!" His voice was
somewhere between frustrated and excited. 

	It was actually the priest who was the first one to turn serious.
"Willy, we can stop if you want to. You've got a lot of other stuff to
deal with right now -,"

	"Shut up," Willy answered without harshness in voice. "I don't
want to think about all of the 'stuff' I have to 'deal with,' okay? I
don't want to think about my father or my therapy appointment or my
medication or anything like that. I just ... Christ, I just want to
escape it all for a little while."

	Lucas smiled, "I think I can handle that."

		**************************************

	The comm-link's ringing was not a welcome intrusion. It took a
good eight rings before Lucas was even willing to consider untangling
himself and getting out of bed to find Willy's comm-link. Then it
occurred to him that it was *his* comm-link, not Willy's, that was
ringing, and that *his* comm-link could be activated by slamming the
button on the bedstand.

	"Don't get it," Willy pleaded.

	"No, it might be important." He felt odd saying it; he didn't need
any convincing that answering the call was the last thing he wanted to
do. But getting out of bed and throwing on a robe seemed like the
hardest thing in the world to do; the comm-link had rang a total of
twelve times before he actually got into the living room to answer the
call. 

	It was Fritz Warner, who was very up-front. "You have to return
Willy. His parents are flipping out."

	"Where did you get this from?" The fact that Fritz knew exactly
where Willy was bunking in the aniverse was not shocking; the fact
that he seemed to have a direct line to the DuWitts was.

	"They called Bucky through the accelerator. Willy set up the
machine so they could call from the house and get the Righteous
without any concept of where they were dialing to. Jenny took the call
and was ready to start telepathically paging him until I managed to
stop her. So tell him to get his tail back to earth." He severed the
communication before Lucas could respond. He had a way of pushing the
priest around.

	"I should probably go," came Willy's voice from the doorway to the
bedroom. He already had his jeans on and was putting his T-shirt over
his head. "The last thing I want is my parents to start telling Jenny
what's going on. She's concerned as shit as it is."

	"Have you ever considered telling her?" Lucas asked softly,
wrapping his arms around Willy's waist. 

	The engineer looked away. "No. She doesn't tell me stuff about her
family, I don't tell her stuff about mine. That's just the way it is.
Besides, I've already got one mom running around like a chicken with
its head cut off because of this whole deal; I don't need two."

	Lucas gave him a supportive kiss on the cheek. "You're so brave." 

	"I don't want to go therapy today." He rested his head on Lucas's
shoulder. "I want to stay here with you."

	"You want me to come back to earth with you?" It was an honest
offer.

	"No, I don't think my parents really realize how old you are or
how influential you are on me, and I don't think they'd be cool with
that. Besides, I really have to do this alone." Willy swallowed.

	"I love you," the priest said as Willy buried his face in his
neck. "You're gonna be fine."

	"Okay," he didn't sound convinced; he seemed to be growingly
scared now that leaving the apartment was becoming a reality.

	"I want you to believe me, Willy," Lucas said with more vigor.
"You're the strongest person I know. You can beat this."

	"I believe you." He collected himself, pulling away from Lucas
reluctantly. "I have to go."

	They exchanged one final, gentle kiss before the younger man
collected his backpack and moved towards the door, stopping before it.
It seemed like something was holding him back from crossing the
threshold. He turned back to Lucas, who stood in the doorway between
his bedroom and the living room, and smiled warily. It seemed to give
Willy the courage he needed, because he left and shut the door behind
him. And the room was strangely silent.

Finis.