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Authors Chapter Notes:
The half finished epilogue to Final Requests is sitting there, but i couldn't resist starting this. I've loved writing it, and I hope you'll enjoy reading. I hope to post the next chapter tomorrow if all goes according to plan.

Thanks for Minx Delovely for her support and Abby for her awesome beta skills. All mistakes are my own.

I hope you'll take the time to let me know what you think. I've been dying to post this.


His head was spinning and pounding at the same time, if that were possible. Not quite sure where he was or how he got here, he remained still with his eyes tightly shut. When the spinning finally slowed, he braced himself and raised his head off his right arm, which was squished into the arm of the sofa. He cast a cursory glance around the room, taking in the take-away containers, pizza boxes, and empty liquor bottles littering the floor of his flat.



Jesus, mate! Can't even make it to the bleeding bed and pass out like normal person. Fucking shoulder hurts like a bitch, and I don't even know if I can stand. Christ! I'm pathetic.



William Elliston stood on trembling legs and turned to make his way to the half-bath in the hall. As he walked his head pounded harder, his vision was slightly blurred causing him to see spots. He felt an unexpected wave of nausea wash over him, and he barely made it to the toilet in time. He wretched until his throat felt the burn of his stomach's acidic contents, and his abdominal muscles ached from the strain of the expulsion.



Two hours later, this is where his godfather, Rupert Giles found him, lying in the fetal position on the floor of the half-bath.



"William, William, William—" His voice grew more insistant with each address. Finally, he bent over and shook him.



William made an incoherent groaning noise, which seemed to incite Rupert to rage. He kicked him swiftly in the shin and shouted, "Get up, you gormless berk! You reek, and I can hardly stand the sight of you! If your parents weren't dead, they'd die of shame, were they to see you in this state."



The last words seemed to strike a chord, and William slowly pulled himself up. "You shut your bloody gob! You fucking arse!"



William started to sway and Rupert quickly gripped his bicep and righted him.



Rupert sighed and lowered his head as he and William wended their way through the refuse of bottles and boxes to the living room. "Forgive me. Come on, son. Let's have a sit down and see what we can work out. Do you remember the last time you ate?"



William ran a hand through his dirty curls and winced. "What's today?"



"It's Thursday evening about seven o'clock. When's the last time you left this apartment?"



Both the room and William were so malodorous, Rupert had to inhale through his mouth in order to continue breathing. William may have been locked up in this rubbish bin for days, but Rupert seriously doubted he could remain here much longer.



William leaned back against the pillows of the sofa with his eyes closed. "I think I had lunch with Richard from Whitlow on Monday afternoon. They want to advance me for a new book. Anything I want to write to about, but I don't know if I can do it again. I told him I'd think about it and get back to him. Stopped by the liquor store and came home. Don't remember much after that."



William sat up, moving things around on the coffee table, searching for his cigarettes and lighter. Seeing this, and knowing he couldn't take another noxious odor, Rupert suggested they move out onto the patio.



Rupert sat down in one of the patio chairs and exhaled, thankful to be out in the warm, fresh, spring air. "There, isn't this nice? A bit of fresh air will do you some good."



He tried to sound jovial, but it rang false, and William plopped down in chair opposite him, rolled his bloodshot eyes, and gave him the two-fingered salute.



Rupert sighed yet again. "I gather you've not been taking your medication? I hope not if you've been drinking all this time. Why don't you get a shower and fresh clothes, then we'll talk some more."



William narrowed his eyes and wagged a shaking finger at him. "Look, I don't recall asking you to come barging over to play nursemaid. If I wanted a naughty nurse, I'd find someone gender-opposite, with finer features, and several years younger than you, thanks."



Rupert turned his head to the side and pinched the bridge of his nose, desperately trying to remain composed.



"There's no need to be crass. I was merely suggesting you clean up and come over for dinner with Olivia and me. I could arrange for a cleaning service to come tomorrow and tidy things up around here. I know you William. When you're at your best, you don't like to live this way. I love you like my own son and only want to help you. Will you let me, please?"



Rupert put a hand on his forearm and lightly squeezed. He was not one for huge displays of affection, so this was his version of a bear hug.



William let out a put-upon sigh and said, "Furthermore, I can take care of my own affairs. I'm thirty years old, and a published author. I think I can manage to call a cleaning service on my own." William took another long drag off his cigarette and thumped his fist against the arm of the chair. "I'll go, but only to see Aunt Liv."



William disappeared back inside the filthy apartment and Rupert took out his phone to call his wife.



Olivia answered straight away.



"It's worse than I could have imagined." Rupert answered, the horrible image of William collapsed on the floor still fresh in his mind. " But he's alive and coming to dinner. Make up the guest room, and see if it's not too late to book a cleaning service for in the morning." He sat back and waited.



While he waited he thought about how he could help this drowning soul. He needed direction and someone who would be hyper-vigilant and not kowtow to him. The perfect person came to mind, and he thought she would be more than grateful for the chance.



He would contact her as soon as possible. Now, he just had to get though the rest of this evening. Rupert decided to wait for William outside. The less time spent in that den of filth the better. The place was living science experiment. William would probably have to pay at least three times the normal cost, but he had the means.



William's book, Hostile at Seventeen, a scathing satire about ageism, had been a critical and commercial success. Whitlow House, a small, but well respected name in the publishing world, published the novel. They were based in Boston, and since Rupert and Olivia were in the area, William decided to leave London and his drab existence behind. He'd been in Cambridge a little less than a year. As far as Rupert knew, everything was great, with William feeling success for the first time in his life. The money was nice, but the sense of accomplishment, of completion was the greatest thing.



Rupert looked up to see a rumpled but clean William, dressed in a ratty Pavement t-shirt, jeans, and worn pair of Converse sneakers. "Are you ready? My car's just downstairs."



William ran a hand through his still damp curls. "Yeah, and so's mine."



Rupert looked at him pointedly. "I'm well aware of that, and that's where it's bloody well going to stay. I just picked you up off the floor less than an hour ago. If you think I'm going to let you behind the wheel then you know bugger all!"



William's cheeks flushed and he huffed as if disgusted. "All right, just let me get my wallet, and we can be off then."



The fifteen-minute drive to Rupert and Olivia's was awkward at best. Rupert tried to engage in him conversation, but all he got were monosyllabic answers. William mostly just leaned against the window with his eyes closed. Rupert pulled onto his tree-lined street and found a parking spot right in front of his gate.



"We're here," he said, shutting of the engine and turning to William. "I'm sure Olivia is just putting the finishing touches on dinner. I hope you're hungry." He tried to sound enthusiastic, but William was making it difficult.



"Great, it will be good to see her." His voice was toneless as he got out of the car and headed toward the house.



Rupert opened the black, wrought iron gate, holding it for him to enter, then followed him up the path to slate gray, Greek Revival, he and his wife called home. He was about to unlock the large, polished oak door, when it swung open to reveal a small woman with skin the color of roasted coffee beans. Her black hair was woven into small braids, and her large brown eyes shone with warmth as she took William's hand and pulled him into a hug.



"Oh, Will, it's so good to have you with us," she said, rubbing his back. "It's been an age since I've seen you. You look as though you've lost a stone. You need to come inside, and let me fatten you up."



William hugged her back. He loved his Aunt Liv. She'd always been so kind to him. She and Rupes were the only family he had now. He was rather embarrassed for her to see him in this state, but he was sure she already knew all the details. However, the one thing he knew about her was, she would never judge him, and he was grateful to have at least one person like that in his life.



"It's good to see you too, Aunt Liv. Dinner smells delicious. Is there anything I can do to help?" William asked as they walked into the entryway.



Olivia turned and said, "Why don't you two wash up, then Will, you can help me get dinner on the table. Rupert, don't you have some calls to make?"



"Ah, yes, I do. Thank you for reminding me. I'll only be a moment."



Will entered the kitchen, the aroma of food smelling heavenly and making him queasy at the same time. He knew if he just ate he would feel much better. "It's looks like you've gone to a lot of trouble for me. Ta, but you shouldn't have bothered."



She took his hands and gave him a look of mock reproof. "Don't be a git. Take these and put them on the table," she said, smiling and handed him a bowl of carrots in tarragon butter.



Together they brought out the rest of the food, and Rupert came in just in time to sit down for dinner. William noted Olivia had already set out the glasses, and there was pitcher of homemade lemonade on the table as well. A symbol for the colossal fuck-up he was.



Dinner was going smoothly, and he was enjoying the meal, the beef tenderloin was prepared medium rare, just the way he liked it, and he found himself feeling better on a physical level as well, when the chair was figuratively pulled from beneath him.



"Will, I've arranged for a cleaning crew to come round in the morning and tidy your apartment. I think it's best if you stay with us this evening. That way you won't be uncomfortable while they're there, and they can be in and out sooner," Olivia said, taking a sip of lemonade and going back to her dinner like she'd just said, "pass the rolls."



Will's fork clattered onto his plate. "I'm sorry. Did either of you think to ask me how I might feel about this? Because, Let me tell you. I bloody well hate the idea of strangers rifling through my things when I'm not there!" He made to stand, but Olivia's hand on his arm stopped him.



"If that's how you feel about it then I'll take you over in the morning, all right. Either way it has to be done. Surely, you have to agree with that."




Chapter End Notes:
Thanks for reading!




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