#lucas centric

[lumaxfanfictionarchive]

what kinds of careers do you see lucas pursuing in the future?

Ohh! That’s so hard. Idk…let me try to talk my way through it…

So what does Lucas like: science, basketball, d&d, video games, let’s not forget Audio/visual stuff, and I hate to say it but Military Paraphernalia (it’s the 80’s and the implication is that his dad was in Nam)

He’s smart, protective, loyal, strong, athletic, brave…he has experience with combat….AHHHH! 😳😭

The signs point to military out of high school!! NOOOOO!!!!

…speaking from a realistic stand point anyway, but let’s dream…

Safer and somewhat better options:

Idk how highly he may think of scientists anymore considering basically all the ones he’s encountered have been bad, but maybe he might still be interested, so scientist: specializing in what??… I doubt interdementional sciences, probably something a little more helpful to humanity, probably stuff a little more hands on also, so maybe he’ll study to be an engineer of some kind. Maybe even a video game creator.

Idk how interested he is in sports outside of the potential of popularity so idk if he’d go for a scholarship of some kind, not sure it’d be a goal 🤷🏻‍♀️

I wish we knew what his father did, I think he really looks up to him and that might have an impact on his career goals but 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️.

[shipperssafehaven]

Not me writing a lucas-centric angst fic five hours before I have to get up for work 😍

[asterparfait]

lucas!!

[heavencasteel420]

I try not to obsess over stats, but when someone unsubscribes to me as an author, a part of me is always like "but I'm still the girl you married!"

[stobinesque]

Stobinesque's 250 Follower Celebration

Hey! Hello! There are 250 of you here somehow! Thanks so much, all. It's been a couple of years since I was really active in a fandom, and there's been so much enthusiasm and encouragement for newbies here 💙

In celebration, I am borrowing some inspiration from @wynnyfryd and @steddieas-shegoes' Steddie Microfic challenge, and will be writing 250 word drabbles based on prompts you all send in!

I'll be accepting prompts from now through Friday, August 25th for a ship/pairing/group dynamic + a one word prompt [e.g. "Stobin + music"]. (Depending on how many asks I receive I may either extend the window for requests, or close them early.) Please read this whole post before sending in an ask!

What I'll Write

Any Steve pairing/group dynamic (e.g. Scoops Troop) (excluding Harringr*ve)

Any Robin ship/pairing

Any Lucas-centric prompts

What I Won't Write

NSFW content with characters under 18-years-old

Romantic ships between one of the younger teens and one of the older teens

Romantic ships between Robin and a man

Rules

Send an ask with a character pairing/group dynamic + a one word prompt (I will accept un-hyphenated compound words; e.g. 'ice cream')

Specify if you would like the pairing/group to be platonic or romantic*

Specify if you would like the drabble to be SFW or NSFW**

Make sure any romantic/NSFW requests follow my "What I Won't Write" guidelines!

Let me know of any squicks, triggers, or tropes you would not like to see in the drabble.

I write a 250 word drabble based on your prompt! (I will be using Scrivener's native word counter since that's the application I draft in, and doesn't require me putting spaces around my em-dashes 😂)

I'm currently working on my final Summer Challenge Fic, so while I'll be filling prompts as quickly as I can, I probably won't get through all of them right away. If you send me a prompt, I will fill it, it just might take a bit!

*if you would be equally okay with a platonic or romantic version of the prompt, there's no need to specify **if you don't specify and you send me something that matches my "What I'll Write" guidelines for NSFW stuff, you're reasonably likely to get a smutty drabble 😏

no pressure tags for visibility! @inairbinad @spicysix @devondespresso @steves-strapcollection @eriquin @delta-piscium @theheadlessphilosopher @starryeyedjanai @scarcrossdlvrs @patchworkgargoyle

[lumaxramblings]

sometimes it's not your time to talk :)

[i-yyzw-cq]

I'm might write angsty fanfic about lucas and perhaps post it on tumblr

[weirdo09]

i feel like lucas either wakes up when the sun rises or wakes up past 11 am, there’s no in between.

[thefaearealwaysamongyou]

Here's the rough outline I've got done so far for the fic I'm working on if anyone was interested. (If you can read that shit, I should be a doctor someday)

They're going to the finger lakes (I picked out their vacation home on Vrbo and everything <3)

[strangerwheelerthings]

I know Hogwarts Houses are not the thing to do anymore, but I came across someone who called Nancy Wheeler a Slytherin, and my brain wouldn't rest until I figured out what she would actually be.

It's not that Slytherin wouldn't be a logical choice in some ways. Nancy certainly has a strong desire to prove herself and plenty of ambition. However, those things are not what drive her, what motivate her.

Nancy would think that she's a Ravenclaw. She highly values truth and knowledge, but it's a means to an end for her. It's not the end goal itself. Knowledge is important to her because of what it gives her, the power and ability to act, and to make a difference.

She is highly like Hermione in this way, but therein lies my reasoning for ultimately choosing Gryffindor. Nancy, for all her intelligence, can be the most reckless, dunderheaded ball of loyalty and courage in the world. She can be a straight-up battering ram when rules she usually respects get in her way. Her motivation ultimately ends up being centered on justice and protectiveness.

Her ambition comes from a desire to be someone who can make a difference in the world; who can be seen for who she actually is, but also just because she cares. She wants to help people, and she'll use any means she can think of to do so (legal or not, lol)

[bibridlizzie]

Hope Mikaelson

[gwenstrikesagain]

93k words later…

“the way you make me feel” is now complete!

Ballet Ronance au 🩰

The party is accepted into the American Ballet Academy, a prestigious ballet school that feeds directly into the American Ballet Company. The only problem? Openings are sparse, competition is tough, and emotions are high.

They fall apart, and fall in love, all at once.

Tags: forced proximity, enemies to friends to lovers, hurt and angst/comfort, happy ending

TW: heavy themes of eating disorders, depression, and anxiety

[stevieboyscoffee]

WIP

“It is what it is,” Steve sighed, looking at the rejection letters from the different colleges he had applied to. It was his second time, after Robin had encouraged him to try again. He wasn’t surprised; Steve had learned to just accept the bad things that came his way. It was easier. It made it easier to accept the lectures from his father’s disapproval about his life choices. It made it easier to accept when Nancy didn’t love him. Made it easier to accept that he was just bullshit. Robin looked between him and the papers, up at his face with a worried brow, and back down to the papers. It felt like she was trying to will them to change into acceptance letters with just her stare.

“You’re not upset? I thought you wanted to go to college with me..” she sighed, her eyes finally softening with disappointment. She looked back up at him, setting on staring at his chest. She couldn’t meet his eyes. Robin had tried so hard to work with him on his applications. It looked like he was trying too, but maybe she was wrong. Maybe he wanted to work with his dad’s firm, and this was his way of letting her down easy.

Steve struggled to meet her eyes, “I did. I really did, Robs..” He hated how easy it was for everyone to go back to thinking so little of him. They thought the worst of him at the slightest inconvenience, after he gave himself up to help them save the world. Even Robin, who was his best friend, his platonic soulmate, would take any slightly “undermining” response and take it as bitchy disinterest. It was just another remind of how little he fit in with the rest of his found family.

Robin just shrugged, turning away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Max hated it.

Today was different though. Eddie had finally graduated, and even with as young as Will was, he thought the boys owed him the role of the Game Master. Max didn't disagree. El had told her about the things Will had confided to his sister. Well, actually, he had told Jonathan, and El overheard Jonathan talking to Argyle about it. Will was upset, spending the entire summer trying to get his best friends to play one campaign with him, and all they could do was focus on their girlfriends. Will didn't even like girls. It felt like they had all found something that he exclusively couldn't do. Then he came back, months later, after defeating Vecna, only to find they'd joined an entire DnD club. It was like a stab to his heart.

But the point was, Will had no problem moving dates around the basketball games. So tonight was their last session before the summer. It was the end of their campaign. The finale. Max didn't know the exact term for it. She could see the boys panicking over their decision. Everyone was low on health. Their cleric had died, and everyone else as well. Mike was alone with the final boss. The older boys were arguing among themselves about what Mike should do. Meanwhile Steve had that look on his face. He sat in on a lot more of their campaigns than she did, if Dustin's word was anything to go by. It made sense. He was their ride home. Only until Lucas passed his driver's test in a few months. She figured he'd make this face when that happened too.

Will made his final role for the boss they were fighting. Mike had just rolled to hit, and his odds weren't looking great. The boys were all leaning over the table, watching intently. Dustin's scream was heard first. Max almost had to cover her ears. Even her scream wasn't as high as that. It wasn't a scream of triumph though. He was practically crying, "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!" It was almost enough to make Max think something had gone genuinely wrong. She looked to Steve again, calm a solemn amid the chaos that had taken over. She knew he was about to say the thing. That dreaded sentence.

"It's alright boys. It is what it is," Steve sighed, looking tired and slightly confused. He may have sat in on more campaigns, but he only knew about as half as much about the game as Max did. Every one of the boys suddenly turned on him.

"How could you say that, Steve?!" Lucas yelled right at Steve's face. He had gotten taller, and was always the first to get sharp and mean when things went wrong. Steve's shoulders hunched as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"It's not that big of a deal, Sinclair.." Steve tried to start off. He hated when they looked at him like this. Like he had laughed at them for crying over a dead dog. It was just a game.

"Not that big of a deal!?" all three boys cried in unison. Will was sitting smugly in his chair, satisfied with their displeasure. "This campaign took all year to complete, Steve!" Mike shouted. "I didn't get to finish my last campaign, remember!?" Lucas was upset. Steve could reason with his frustration. Steve didn't think Eddie had apologized nearly enough to make up for excluding Lucas because he liked sports.

[6flyingosprey6]

AO3 PLEASE I AM NOT STRONG ENOUGH FOR THIS SHIT

[stuck-in-hawkins]

Whoops. I thought I posted this forever ago…. It was in my drafts. We’ll, better late than never. Note: this was written before season four came out. Before I knew there was an ACTUAL haunted house in Hawkins soooooo small deviation from the canon. I hope you enjoy.

Summer 1983

The party stood in front of the old withering Victorian structure. Up close they could see there were still flecks of yellow paint from the last time the house had been occupied. But from far away (otherwise known as a safe distance) it had only ever looked gray.

Mike held the scrap of paper with the notes from their research. He was biting back his fear with determination. Lucas held onto his wrist rocket, less for the ghosts and more for whatever punks or junkies he thought might be hanging around inside. Dustin held onto the Fisher Price tape recorder they’d stolen from Erica’s room, hoping it would be enough to catch some concrete EVP.

Will stood rigid, holding the flashlight. Everything in him was screaming to turn around. Will had always been told by his mother not to “open that door”, that spirits and the supernatural shouldn’t be played with. Yet, here he was standing at the threshold of prime ghost territory. But he didn’t want to be a chicken. He didn’t want to let down Mike or the guys.

All summer they had been trying to dig up a real mystery. But nothing ever seemed to happen in Hawkins. They’d finally found a genuine haunted place. They had heard stories of people seeing someone stare outside the second story window. After weeks of asking around, separating fact from fiction, it lead them to a story with a year and a name attached. In scouring the library, Mike had found the original article detailing the tragedy. The house had once belonged to a woman named Eudora, who’s younger sister had died there when they were little of typhoid fever.

Now, they stood in the shadow of the house. They all had their gear but no one seemed willing to take the first step, meaning it was up to Mike. He went into leader mode and the others followed. Lucas sidled up next to Mike and held up his wrist rocket, ready for anything, or at least he faked it well enough and it made Mike feel a little braver.

Mike tried the handle. He turned back to the guys. “It’s locked…”

Dustin egged on, “We should try the window.”

Lucas countered, “That would definitely be breaking and entering.”

Dustin replied, “Not if the window’s open.”

Mike turned, “Are you serious?”

Lucas chimed in, “It’s still totally breaking and entering! If your window was open and someone came through-”

“That would be trespassing, not breaking and entering.”

While the three argued the definition of trespassing, Will felt something strange, like a memory. He envisioned a back door and, for some reason he could picture it being opened for a cat. He blinked, struck by the oddity of the spontaneous image.

It prompted him to ask, “Should we look for a back door?” Though he was still terrified, he felt a connection to the place. He had read over the article again and again about the girl. He felt so bad for the sister, she had been his age. He had wanted to know as much as the rest of the party.

The boys quietly snuck into the back yard, which was overgrown with weeds nearly as tall as they were. Will stopped in his tracks. It was the exact door he had imagined. He saw a cat lingering in the windowsill. The same one he’d seen. He hadn’t imagined it. It had been a vision. He felt a chill run down his spine.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Will said.

They all turned. Lucas asked, “What? Why?”

Will didn’t know how to describe what had just happened without seeming crazy. “There’s a cat inside. Someone lives here.” He pointed at the cat on the windowsill. But at that moment the cat was stretching and decided to hop down out of view.

They all looked at the empty window.

“It was just there!” Will defended, thinking, ‘Damnit, cat. Why?’

Mike looked back sympathetically. “You don’t have to go in, Will. We’ll be okay.”

Suddenly, the Byers Stubbornness struck. He didn’t want to be babied. He didn’t want to be left outside alone. And, if he was having visions of the house, that meant it really was haunted. He couldn’t let them go in without him.

He steeled himself. “I’m fine. If you guys go, I’m going.”

Mike turned the knob and, this time, it opened.

Will stated, “If the walls start to bleed, though, I’m out.”

Lucas said, “I think everybody can mutually agree on that.”

Dustin, “What if it’s dry blood?”

Mike answered, “Let’s just say if we see any blood, we don’t stick around.”

They all made their way inside the mud room. There were cracked black and white tiles coated with years of dirt and leaves that had blown in. The corners of the room were carpeted with thick clumps of dust and cobwebs. They were all silent, holding their breath, straining to listen for any sign of life.

They walked into the kitchen. The cabinets had been tagged with spray paint, initials, and curses were carved into the wood. They saw the counter lined with cigarette butts and bottles of booze of all different sizes. A wind whistled through the house and the boys suddenly realized just how quiet it was. They hoped that it meant they were the only ones there.

There was a small staircase in the kitchen. Lucas looked at Will and could tell he was scared. He whispered to Will in the hopes of distracting him, “Those smaller staircases used to be for servants to go up and down without being seen. There’s probably a larger staircase on the other side. It’s almost like a secret passageway.”

Will nodded, glad to hear a voice beside the whistle of the wind.

When they walked into the next room, they saw an assortment of things someone had left behind. A pair of shoes, blankets piled on the floor, and a crate next to it. They all stood perfectly still. Someone must have been sleeping there.

Dustin whispered, “We’ve got to leave before the hobo gets back.”

Lucas hissed, “I think he’s still here. Look at the shoes!”

But Mike got closer and noticed a layer of dust on the blankets. They hadn’t been moved in probably months. “I don’t think whoever was staying here has been back in a long time. Look at the dust.”

Lucas suddenly relaxed. “If anybody else was living here all that stuff would have been used.”

They all seemed less anxious now, except for Will. He was trying to keep himself warm but a cold shiver was running through him. Though it was a cooler day for summer, this felt different, like a damp, chill-your-bones-cold. Will wished he’d brought a jacket. He tried warming up his arms but the brief friction made no change.

“You okay, Will?” Mike asked.

“Yeah. Fine. Just a little chilly in here.”

Dustin lit up, “Cold spots!” He held out the mini microphone, swinging his arm in an arc and pressed the record button.

Lucas rolled his eyes. “You aren’t serious.”

Dustin retorted, “Does anyone else in this room feel cold? No. It’s like 70 degrees. That’s not cold. If Will is feeling a sudden drop in temperature, that’s the first indicator of paranormal activity.”

Will’s eyes widened. “Why am I the only one feeling it?”

Mike stepped closer to Will. “What does it feel like?”

Lucas jumped in, asking Will, “Did you eat before you got here?”

Will shrugged, stuttering. “I-I has a Pop Tart this morning…”

Lucas stated, “It’s been a while then. It’s his blood sugar not paranormal activity.”

Dustin argued, “If you are going to be a nay-sayer about everything, then why did you come?”

“I’m not being a nay-sayer. I’m being realistic. I’m here to keep you grounded.”

Mike asked Will again. “What does it feel like?”

“Just… like it’s cold. Not winter cold, but like damp March cold.”

Mike untied the old long sleeve shirt around his waist and handed it to Will. “Here.”

Will felt immense gratitude. Mike thought of everything and was always just a little more prepared than he needed to be. Will put on the shirt, feeling a little warmer and a little braver, too.

Dustin and Lucas were still arguing and Mike told them to cool it. They made their way up the main staircase in a line. Mike walked in front and Will followed close behind. He wanted to seem brave but as they walked up the large stairs, the fear returned in full force. The thick, heavy oak banister had twisted and curled, making it seem ominous. Parts of it had warped from water exposure. The plaster ceiling above was cracked and discolored. The stairs creaked and moved under their weight. Will thought for a moment that his foot was about to go through the wood and he gripped Mike’s arm. Mike looked back, concerned. Will suddenly felt like a baby.

“Sorry.” He dropped his hand. “Let’s just hurry, okay?”

Mike nodded, feeling sorry that Will was so scared. He quickened his pace. When they got to the top, there was a landing. It was like a balcony that overlooked the main room which then narrowed into a long hallway. Will looked down it and saw what looked like smoke coming out of one of the doors. He took a step closer and squinted, trying to make sense of what he was seeing and then he realized...

The smoke had a face.

Will shrieked and fell backwards onto the soaking carpet. He put his back to the wall, away from the hallway.

The boys crowded around. “What’s wrong, Will?” “What happened?” “What did you see?”

Will shook his head. They had to get out of there. They didn’t see it, but he did. They had to leave.

“Something came out of the room. It-it looked like smoke b-b-but… it had… it was...”

Lucas peeked down the hallway. “There’s no smoke.”

Dustin looked excitedly. “Maybe it was a wisp. An actual apparition!”

Mike was conflicted. He was supposed to be the leader, but he didn’t know what to do. Should he lead them on for the sake of the mission or have them turn back for the sake of Will? He realized it wasn’t really his decision to make.

“Lucas, Dustin. Come here for a second.” He brought them over to the other side of the landing. It wasn’t exactly private, but it was the best he could do without going down the potentially haunted hallway. He leaned in and the boys did, too. He whispered, “Will is really being affected by this house.”

Lucas said, sympathetically. “I think he’s just gotten himself worked up.”

Dustin, “I don’t think so. Obviously, he’s more sensitive to this stuff. He’s our canary in the coal mine! Like an EMF reader!”

Mike’s eyes narrowed, “Maybe. But what happens to the canaries when they go too deep? They die. Should we stay here or call it quits and come back later?”

While the boys were debating in whispers, Will was praying. It had been a long time for him. He had only been to church a few times when his grandmother had taken him. He didn’t remember the recited prayers so he was just asking, God, Grandpa, anybody to keep him and his friends safe. When he opened his eyes he thought his vision was blurry. He rubbed his eyes, and realized the same face that had been staring down the hallway was staring at him, only inches away from his face.

Fear had gripped his throat. He wanted to scream but could only shake. He felt a cold mist on his hand. It was holding him, and pulling him upward. He obeyed and stood, fearing what it would do if he resisted. It began to pull him toward the hallway. He turned to his friends, silently pleading for them to look, to know what was happening and intervene.

Mike looked up and saw Will looking more scared than he’d seen him in his entire life. “Will?”

The guys saw Will’s hand raised like it was being pulled.

Mike asked, “Will, what’s going on?”

“It’s pulling me.” His voice was barely audible.

“Holy shit!” Dustin exclaimed. He held the tape recorder closer to Will’s hand.

Lucas asked, “Is this some kind of sick joke?”

Will was shaking his head. Mike looked down at the hallway. This was the coal mine. It could kill them all. He wrapped his arms around Will. “We’re not letting it take you anywhere, Will. We’re getting out of here.”

Dustin asked, “But what if it’s the girl? She might be trying to tell us something.”

Lucas put his arms around Will, too. “If you’re faking this, Will, I swear-”

Dustin followed suit and put an arm around Will, still keeping one arm extended with the recorder.

Will felt so much stronger with his friends holding onto him. He didn’t have to let it take him anywhere.

But suddenly the mist travelled up his arm and he felt consumed by it. It was closer than his friends were. He could feel desperation. And he had an awareness, whatever this thing was, it would take him whether he was moving his feet or she was.

She. He knew it was a girl. Will didn’t know how but he did.

He told the guys, “Let me go. I’ll be okay. Dustin’s right. I need to see what she’s trying to show me.”

Mike looked to the others. They all looked scared for Will. They let go but all followed and kept a hold on his shirt, just in case.

As they passed the rooms, the smell of mildew grew stronger, as did the humidity. The carpet was soaked and there were dark gray stains everywhere. The boys shared a mutual feeling of dread. Where were they being lead? What would they find? A dead body? A portal to hell? All the horror movies they had ever watched ran through their heads. Lucas suddenly recognized another smell that made him sick to his stomach. His grip on Will tightened.

Will didn’t know why but he didn’t feel quite so scared now. He could almost make her out. Long hair, now made of mist and fuzz, like the kind on a dandelion. She guided him to a room with a set of stairs: the servant’s staircase. He followed her down and back into the kitchen. The cat sat at the window again. He could feel the wisp leave his arm. The cat stood up and trilled. Then, it hopped down and walked outside. He knew to follow it.

They got outside into the grass and the cat stopped and looked back at them. Will looked around, puzzled. He asked, “What are you trying to show me?”

The cat looked disinterested, or perhaps judgemental.

Dustin asked, “She’s not pulling you anymore?”

Will shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

Mike suggested, “Maybe there’s something buried where the cat is.”

Lucas held up his arms, letting go of his grip on Will. “Can we not go grave digging?” He was freaked out. Beyond freaked out. “Especially considering we only narrowly escaped the dead body in there?”

They all turned, “WHAT?”

“Did you not notice that putrid smell in there? Something was dead and rotting!”

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.” Dustin held his head and started pacing.

Will looked at the cat. “She didn’t want us to see it.”

The cat meowed. They heard a low, moaning creak from inside the house. Then a sharp crack and part of the roof fell in. They all screamed and ran back to their bikes. They had never pedaled so fast in their lives.

When they got back to Mike’s, Dustin drilled Will for details. While Lucas told him to knock it off and Mike got Will some hot chocolate. It was too hot for it really. But it was the only thing he could think of to comfort Will. How did you comfort someone who just communicated with the dead?

As terrifying as it has all been, they decided as a group that they needed to tell the police. So Lucas, having the best adult accent out of all of them, called in an anonymous tip about someone squatting in that house and they waited.

Later that week, when they saw police lights and caution tape around the area, they parked their bikes there and tried to get any information they could from the neighbors, police, anyone willing to talk. They didn’t really get a straight answer until two days later, when it was printed in the paper.

The article told of a squatter who had been living in a house infested with black mold for months. It painted the story as a cautionary tale and talked about local services in the area that could prevent such damage to a home, to ensure the safety of the readers’ family. It called on the police to have a crack down on squatters and vagabonds and to remove dangerous abandoned homes like that.

But the boys dropped the newspaper in dissatisfaction. The writer had no idea or connection or care for the place.

Dustin sighed, “They didn’t even put in anything about the ghost.”

Mike raised his eyebrows, “I think the cops were a little preoccupied, with removing a dead body and all.”

Dustin sulked, “But what’s gonna happen to her? What happens after the house a ghost haunts is demolished? She’s gonna be stuck in that pile of rubble.”

Will looked over at Dustin. He had thought that the whole hunting ghosts thing was a way to be like the Ghostbusters, but he had empathy for this ghost too.

Will decided to visit the house again. Alone this time. As he got to the police tape, he ducked under and went to the backyard, where the cat sat by the back door.

“I just want to tell you, thank you for getting me and my friends out of there. Is… Is there something I can do? To help you I mean.” The cat bent down and picked something off of the ground and pranced over to him. Her fur was white once, but the dirt had made it a dusty blonde color. She rubbed against his leg and dropped something at his feet. He went to pet her but she scamped off into the ivy at the edge of the property. He looked down at the trinket, it was a small silver charm bracelet. There was a heart that read, “Emmy & Eudora.”

He whispered to the cat, “I’ll take it to her. I promise.” And he did.

Will’s mother was right about doors. He had a scent on him now, that things beyond would not be able to ignore. It would make him a target. But there is also something to be said for helping a lost soul and of promises fulfilled.

When the nightmare came for Will that November, he was able to hide as no one else could. They shielded him for as long as they were able to. A kindness repaid.