Warren/Andrew FanMix+FanFic...thingummy.
Mar. 31st, 2007 10:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)


Love is Blindness - U2
Love is clockworks
And cold steel
Fingers too numb to feel
Squeeze the handle
Blow out the candle
Love is blindness
[...]
A little death
Without mourning
No call
And no warning
Baby...a dangerous idea
That almost makes sense
For few brief moments after he kills Katrina, Warren feels like everything might come crashing down around him. His mind whirls into overdrive to find a way to soothe Andrew and Jonathan’s nerves, and though his plan doesn’t work, they still get away with murder.
He gets half a second of relief until he looks into Jonathan’s eyes, and that’s the moment that he knows he’s screwed. That moment, more than when he realized Katrina was dead, or the moment when he first looked at the computer screen and saw that Buffy wasn’t in jail, is what hits him the worst. He’ll never admit it out loud, but whether he likes it or not, he needs the two morons. His master plan just won’t work without them.
He’s on the verge of internal panic when Andrew smiles and announces that what they’ve done is “cool,” and Warren almost wants to heave a sigh of relief.
He can deal with losing Jonathan. But he can’t pull it all off alone, and as Andrew smiles at him like he’s God’s gift to the world, he knows he isn’t going to have to.
He sees it almost immediately, recognizes something in Andrew that he once had in himself, back when he had Katrina alive and willing. The same blindness to flaws, the same hopeless adoration, the same unconditional obedience.
He gives a mental shrug. If there was ever anything that would make Andrew see past some of the horrors that Warren’s got planned, it’s love. So if that’s what it takes, then that’s what Warren will do. He’ll fuck Andrew, and he’ll blind him, and he’ll do it all in his own bed.
Do you love me?
Or am I just another trip in this strange relationship?
You push and pull me, yeah
And I'm about to lose my mind
Is this just a waste of time?
[...]
You keep acting like you own me
Like you control me
Andrew isn’t exactly sure what’s happening. In theory, he gets it. He’s not completely stupid, after all, and Sunnydale High, before it went kerblooey, did have a pretty good sex ed class. So when it comes to that part of it, even though he’s nervous and sometimes messes up, he generally knows what’s going on.
But the part he doesn’t get is that it’s Warren that all this stuff is happening with.
He’d be the first to admit that he’s had a crush on Warren for a long time, but that was all it was. Just a crush. Hero-worship, even. But Warren has never even looked twice at him. But suddenly he’s taking Andrew on trips in the van without Jonathan, kissing him in secret, and fucking him at night.
It’s nice, Andrew supposes, and he likes having a boyfriend, but he doesn’t like having to hide it from his best friend, and he especially doesn’t like some of the things Warren asks him to do.
Warren likes to hurt him when they’re in bed together. At first, Andrew didn’t mind. But then Warren started taking it past the place where it hurt and felt good at the same time, and now all it does is hurt. And when he tries to complain, Warren whispers things like, “Don’t you abandon me, too, Andy.”
And that’s another thing. Warren seems convinced that Jonathan is plotting against them for some reason. Andrew doesn’t think Jonathan would do that to them, but Warren seems so sure of it, and every time Andrew complains about something, Warren snidely tells him that if he doesn’t trust him, doesn’t love him, then he should just go join Jonathan in abandoning him.
The truth is, Andrew isn’t sure if he loves Warren. He trusts him, same as he always has, but he isn’t sure if he loves him. And for that matter, Warren hasn’t even told Andrew that he loves him yet, so what why is Warren so insistent that Andrew say it, when he hasn’t even said it yet?
But one night, Warren is fucking him, holding him down, one hand gripping his shoulder so hard that Andrew knows he’ll have bruises in the morning, and the other tightening around his throat, and it just slips out. It isn’t exactly the way Andrew pictured telling someone he loved them for the first time, but Warren seems pleased. He smiles down at Andrew, loosens his grip, and at that moment, Andrew realizes that it’s true.
I can see inside you, the sickness is rising
Don't try to deny what you feel
(Will you give in to me?)
It was too easy. Warren should’ve known it would be. Andrew had always been soft and pliant, easy to bend and shape to the maker’s liking, but this was beyond even what he had expected.
Five fucks. That’s what it had taken. Five measly fucks and a couple of fake warnings that Jonathan was plotting against them, and Andrew was complete putty in his hands. Andrew was in love with him.
The moment Andrew said those words, Warren knew he had won. Not that it was ever a game. Calling it a “game” implied that there was ever a chance that Warren might lose. And he’d always known he wouldn’t.
Still, it was satisfying to hear Andrew say the words, to admit his defeat.
“Tell me you love me. Say it,” he says, squeezing Andrew’s hip harder when Andrew doesn’t respond immediately.
Andrew gasps in pain and stutters out, “I-I-I love you. I love you, Warren. Ow, that really hurts.”
“You like it when I hurt you,” Warren says matter-of-factly. It’s a true statement, and both of them know it, same as they both know that the only reason Andrew enjoys it is that Warren enjoys it and he’s too far gone to put his own needs first, just lets Warren take what he wants and gets his pleasure from the fact that Warren likes what he does.
“Just think, in a few days, we can abandon the Frodo-wannabe and we can do this whenever we want.”
Andrew smiles. “Where ever we want.”
Warren is sure that if he lets Andrew go down that tangent, he’s going to end up purring like a kitty cat, so he gives a particularly rough thrust to snap him out of it, and gets a soft groan of pain for his efforts.
“Are you going to hold up your end of the plan? You’re not going to go soft on me, are you?”
Andrew shakes his head fervently no, and comes.
Warren grins, and does the same.
The love we share
Seems to go nowhere
And I've lost my light
For I toss and turn I can't sleep at night
Andrew was having trouble sleeping long before the dreams began to plague them. Long before desde abajo te devora and men wielding cheese, he was haunted by Warren. He’d never even got to say goodbye. He begged Jonathan to at least let him go find Warren’s body, but Jonathan had hailed the first truck that passed by and pulled him inside before he could really protest.
It didn’t stop Andrew from feeling guilty, though.
He spent most of his time wishing against all logic that Warren would come back to him. He didn’t care that Warren had murdered two girls and abandoned him, because somehow, he knew that those things weren’t Warren’s fault, and that if they could just find each other again somehow, everything would right itself, and his world would stop feeling like it had been tilted off its axis and he’d been hung out to dry.
But when Warren finally returns to him, it scares Andrew so badly that he runs away. He spends the better part of an hour trying to convince himself that he was just seeing things, but that…thing that’s claiming to be Warren follows him and explains.
“I need you to do something for me, Andy,” it says in Warren’s voice. It even has Warren’s smile.
“Are you really Warren?” Andrew asks tentatively, hoping against hope that it’s true.
It…no, Warren nods. “I told you we’d be together,” he says. “I’m sorry I died, but I want to make it better. I’ve been watching you. I know you still love me. Help me make it better. Please?”
Andrew doesn’t even hesitate. He should’ve known better than to give up hope like that, to believe for one second that Warren wouldn’t keep his promise. “Okay. What do I have to do?”
I love you
I hate you
I can't live without you
I left my head around your heart
Why would you tear my world apart?
“We’ll be together.”
Those words have been echoing around Andrew’s head for the last two days, ever since he murdered Jonathan.
It didn’t work.
Warren lied.
He’d murdered his best friend, and it was all for nothing.
They weren’t gods. Warren was still Mr. Incorporeal, Jonathan was dead, and Andrew…Andrew was still just Andrew, only now with a much heavier conscience, and a wavering trust in said incorporeal former…current? boyfriend.
“It was his fault,” Warren says, appearing suddenly beside Andrew’s shoulder. “He was fucking anemic. It’s his fault. He didn’t tell us. All that time with us, and he never trusted us enough to tell us that he was anemic. It wasn’t your fault, Andy.”
“I don’t want to kill anyone else,” Andrew sighs.
“You don’t want to be with me?”
“Yes—I mean…of course I do. But it didn’t work last time. Why would it work this time?”
“You just have to trust me, okay? You do this one more little thing, and we’ll be together forever.”
“Always?”
“Mhm. As gods.”
“I really wish you didn’t make me do all this stuff.”
“You’re the only one I trust with such an important assignment,” Warren says soothingly.
Andrew sighs heavily. “And you promise this is the last one?”
“I promise.”
Andrew knew as soon as Warren asked that he was going to give in. He never could resist Warren, and he’d long ago learned to even stop trying. But, he misses Jonathan, and he knows that whoever he kills next, someone will miss them the same as he misses his two best friends.
“Okay, but can we pick someone who nobody will miss?” he asks.
Warren looks taken aback at his request, but shrugs. “Sure, if that’s what you want. As long as they’re not a short cake or anemic, it doesn’t really matter.”
Andrew doesn’t feel any better, but there are prices that he’s willing to pay to get Warren back.
If you don't don't know, why would you say so?
Would you mean this please if it happens?
If you don't know, why would you say so?
Won't you get your story straight?
They tell Andrew that it’s not really Warren. The First. Some unspeakable evil that wants to take over the world, and it was using Andrew to do its bidding.
If he didn’t feel like such a fool, Andrew might make comparisons to some of his favorite comic books, but he’s too busy dealing with the fact that he murdered his best friend, and not only did it not bring Warren back, not only was he being played like a harp, but he actually helped bring about what could be the end of the world.
It would be kind of cool, if it wasn’t so pathetic.
They don’t let him up out of the chair they’ve tied him too very much, never longer than the two minutes they’ve decided he’s allowed of bathroom time, so he waits until everyone’s asleep before he lets himself cry.
They already think he’s a wimp, and maybe he is, but he doesn’t want them to know that he’s crying.
He’s crying for Jonathan, for what he did, for the fact that the world is going to end, and his life with it. He’s crying that maybe everyone is going to die, and it’s all his fault. But mostly, he’s crying for Warren. For the realization that no matter what, he’s not coming back. It hadn’t really struck home yet, not really. But being back in Sunnydale, and knowing that the Warren he’s been with for the last few months has been a fake, living in the same house as the woman that took Warren away from him in the first place, it’s suddenly hitting him hard just how alone he is.
He cries because he’s realizing that Warren never loved him, that it was all lies to manipulate him the same way that The First had. Maybe that’s why it had been so easy to believe that it was really Warren. Both of them played him.
Just when one of them did it, he felt warm and loved, and when the other one did…he was left feeling cold and empty, with the knowledge that he’d never see his boyfriend again.
Don’t tell me what to think
Cause I don’t care this time
Don’t tell me what to believe
Cause you won’t be there
To catch me when I fall
When he gets done crying, he gets angry. Not angry at Warren, because as much as he knows he should be, he just can’t bring himself to hate the man he loved.
But he hates The First. Hates it so much that it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
But then he walks into the living room and he sees him just standing there, and he can barely believe it.
“Listen to me—“ it says, but Andrew refuses to let it speak. It’s not going to get him this time.
“No more listening. I know who you are now. I know what you made me do. Your promises of happy fields and dancing schnauzers and being demigods won't work on me anymore,” he says, but The First just stares at him.
Soon Buffy and Xander decide that it’s not The First, and Andrew can barely contain himself. Only a few days ago, he’d finally let go of his last hope for Warren’s return, and now here he was.
Maybe it was like a watched pot. A hoped-for boyfriend will never boil. Or something like that.
He throws his arms around Warren, and buries his face into his back, only to realize at the last second that this thing, whatever it is, doesn’t smell like Warren. It smells like a girl. Like Willow, actually. Andrew had memorized the way her perfume smelled so that if she ever tried to kill him, he’d be able to smell her first and make a get away, like in the spy movies.
Everyone decides that it actually is Willow a few moments later, and Andrew tries to hide his disappointment.
It had been so easy to believe that Warren had come back to him. And that was the final nail in the coffin, that made him realize he never would.
So, tell me where I went wrong
I'm stuck inside a dream long gone
It's hard to reveal the truth
Your love
Is nothing but a bitter taste
It's better if I walk away
Away from you
I can't stop the rain from fallin'
I'm drownin' in these tears I cry
Since you left without a warning
I face the dawn with sleepless eyes
No I can't go on
After the big battle on the hellmouth, Andrew has a hard time moving on. Oh, sure, on the outside, he does okay. Mr. Giles is training him to be a Watcher, and he puts a lot of effort into training, not only because it’s a very important job, but also because it keeps him distracted.
Watching Sunnydale crumble in on itself was like one last “fuck you” from The Powers That Be, like it wasn’t enough to take away his boyfriend, or to bring him back as the ultimate evil that made him murder his best friend, and it wasn’t enough to make Anya, who had been very nice to him lately, die trying to save him, but now The Powers saw fit to destroy everything he’d ever known and loved. He didn’t even manage to save his Boba Fett action figure.
He trains hard to forget, to help, and to try and make himself worth something. Anya died so that he could live, and he doesn’t want to let her sacrifice be in vain.
But when he’s not training, he spends his free time curled up in his bed, not talking to anyone. Mr. Giles tries to talk to him a few times, and they even manage to get Xander up there.
But Xander just punches him on the arm and tells him that if he’s moved past Anya’s death, then Andrew sure as hell should be, which isn’t very helpful, because Andrew’s not mourning Anya.
He did at first, but now he just works hard for her.
He’s not even mourning at all really, unless it’s possible to mourn the loss of a fantasy life you never had.
England is cold, and rainy, and everyone talks funny, and they say things like, “flat” and “bugger” and a few people have called him a “poof,” which Mr. Giles says is insulting so he should just ignore it.
It’s hard, even for him, to tell himself stories where Warren lived and he and Jonathan made up, and they all became demigods without anyone having to die, and they all lived happily ever after.
He gives up after the third day of trying and locks himself in his bedroom every minute that he’s not training to become a Watcher.
He gives up the dream, but he could never give up Warren.
*whew!* So um...I just sort of...did this today. I'm not sure where it came from, but...well, here it is. So...yeah. Feedback? Please? *falls over and snores loudly*
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Date: 2007-04-01 04:07 am (UTC)Um... that means I like it. Really.
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Date: 2007-04-01 04:10 am (UTC)I think the problem is that I'm too close. Too invested. I do much better writing pairings I don't necessarily believe in, because then I'm much more in "show why this is happening, get inside their heads." With stuff I ship, I'm much more, "Um...duh. Don't you guys see this, too? Are we looking at different canon or something?"
*sigh*
Oh well. Glad you liked the mix anywhos. :)
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Date: 2007-04-01 04:18 am (UTC)Fics don't have to be blatant. It's like when characters in books or tv shows are all Basil Exposition. We get it. If someone is reading the fic, chances are they get the pairing/concepts, even if it's not in the same way you do. So I don't know if I would call it "being too close" to the characters as I would "not fully knowing how to express the characters I like." I like a bunch of characters from Buffy and Harry Potter, but I know that I can't write them for shit. But my Trio, I understand them and have analyzed every little nuance enough so that I can express it very well, in my egotastical Fab-colored glasses view of the world.
I guess what I am saying, in my overly-long drawn out blowhard way, is that your confidence in your ability to write the characters will grow over time. And even if it's not perfect now, given practice and repeated viewings, you will get closer to the personalities of the characters. Of course than I'd have to go into that whole spiel about how no one can truly understand the characters and interpretations and stuff, and how not one person is the one true fic writer of this or that character, but you know what I mean.
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Date: 2007-04-01 12:43 pm (UTC)I do this in every fandom. Even back when I wrote HP, I hated Harry/Draco, but I've got 8 H/D fics, and they're better in quality than the ones I wrote of my own OTPs. And in a few cases, there are more of them, even.
It's just a weird thing I do. Spike/Buffy? Couldn't write it. Warren/Andrew? Obviously can't. Now, if you asked me to write Bangel? That I could probably do.
I'm a very weird person. I accept this.
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Date: 2007-04-01 12:45 pm (UTC)And hey, we all have quirks. :)
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Date: 2007-04-01 12:53 pm (UTC)Or something. I don't know. One day, I'll manage it, and oh, that will be a glorious day.
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Date: 2007-04-01 12:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-01 01:11 pm (UTC)Thanks. :)
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Date: 2007-04-01 04:33 am (UTC)I love random spur of the momentness! And yes! I love this too.
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Date: 2007-04-01 04:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-01 12:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-01 09:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-01 12:47 pm (UTC)I may be a little insane. I've never denied this.
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Date: 2007-04-01 09:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-01 05:21 am (UTC)♥
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Date: 2007-04-01 12:50 pm (UTC)Anyway, glad you like it. :-D
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Date: 2007-04-01 05:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-01 12:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-01 11:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-01 12:50 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2007-04-01 03:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-01 08:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-01 08:59 pm (UTC)But I'm glad you liked the fic. There are some very good ones out there that I could recommend, but I'm definitely not a good one. :-/
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Date: 2007-04-02 05:29 am (UTC)So taking!
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Date: 2007-04-02 11:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-02 10:46 pm (UTC)This mix is so Andrew and Warren.
Snagged the zip with thanks
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Date: 2007-04-03 02:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-03 12:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-03 02:34 am (UTC)I'm glad you like it. :)
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Date: 2007-04-07 01:27 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2007-05-05 07:58 pm (UTC)