Chapter One.
"I'm sorry, you did WHAT?" asked Buffy angrily.
"Sweetheart, calm down. Dulce et Decorum est, remember?" said William uneasily. He knew this would happen, but he had to do it. His father, George had always said that a good man fought for his country, and now that William had the chance, he wanted to prove to the memory of his father that he was a good man.
"William, it's no use fighting for New Zealand if you die. Chanuk Bair? Of all places, William. Of all places to be noble, you choose Chanuk Bair. Do you have any idea whatsoever how many men have died fighting in Chanuk Bair?" Elizabeth was very angry. She thought William was happy with their little family they were creating. You didn't just decide you wanted to fight a war with no hope when you had a family, did you?
"Elizabeth.. Buffy, kitten. You know I have no choice. It's 1915. The war started one year ago. I'm surprised they haven't locked me away already for avoiding my duties." William tried to reach for his wife but she pulled away.
"Your duties? You don't have any training at all! How am I supposed to be fine with this, Will? You're going to be risking your life, to take over a hill, and maybe the odd small village. You're not defending the country at all. Besides, you're from England, Will. Shouldn't you be fighting for them, not us?"
Buffy had started crying now and William rushed to put his arms around her.
"Buffy, the British army is big enough without me, New Zealand needs me. Besides, if you're here, then I'll fight for where you were born. Would you rather have me locked up, Buffy? Not knowing when I'll be free again? At least if I go, even for just a little while, I'll have done something to help." William was speaking quietly know, against Buffy's hair. He knew how much it upset her, and God help him if it didn't upset him either. They had finally gotten their life on track and had made a nice home for themselves, and now he had to leave her. He loved her dearly, God how he loved her dearly and he knew he probably wouldn't survive the first storm up the beach, but there was nothing he could do. He could be arrested and locked up for avoiding serving his country, even though it
wasn't his but that would be just as painful.
Buffy sniffled and rested her head on her husband's shoulder. He would be leaving any day now, probably with his best friend Alexander. They would sing war songs and kill to defend their honor. She had to let him go, she couldn't keep him behind. He'd be in a lot of bother if she did, and her and the baby would have to wait until their William came home.
Three days later four wives farewelled their husbands. Among them were Buffy Summers, Cordelia McFadden, Willow Osbourne and Anya Harris.
Each of them were crying as they hugged and waved goodbye to William, Liam, Daniel and Alexander. They all knew that they probably wouldn't see each other again.
Buffy continued to cry on the way home while the McFadden driver drove the car back to each of the houses. He knew how the girls were feeling, his fourteen
year old son had run away to sign up for the war, when he had discovered where he had gone it was too late. He had already lied about his age, received some basic training and left. He died of typhoid fever on a hospital ship just before his fifteenth birthday. Maybe, Alfred thought, if he had treated his son better he wouldn't feel so guilty about his death. So of course he knew how hard it was on these ladies, especially on Buffy, who was with child and expecting very soon.
When Buffy arrived back at her place, she was thankful that her servant Hattie had kept the fire going for her. She collapsed on the floor in front of it and stared at the flames, inevitably beginning to sing a war song that was very popular at the moment.
"Keep the Home Fires Burning,
While your hearts are yearning,
Though your lads are far away
They dream of home.
There's a silver lining
Through the dark clouds shining,
Turn the dark cloud inside out
'Til the boys come home."
Buffy sighed and rubbed her hand over her stomach, staring down at the worn away rug on the cold wooden floor. Her life would be empty until William returned.
He always added such life to the place. Now he wasn't there, everything seemed so cold and dark. Not even the baby could console her. "Oh God, little Emily or William will never know their father." sighed Buffy sadly. She layed down on her side and allowed the calm of the night to steal her away into sleep.
William, Alexander and Liam sat around a small table together looking wistfully into their cups. Daniel just stared straight ahead, feigning indifference, something
he was very good at. Alexander sighed, "Anya cried. She cried, and she cried a little more. She just wouldn't stop crying! I've never seen a woman cry that much, other than when someone says, 'hey lady, this dress is on sale!' but even then they're happy."
There was a collective murmur of nods and agreements, even from Daniel.
"Buffy was distraught, too. I'm really worried about her. I know she has the girls, but will they really be all right with just each other?" William rubbed his hands over his face. He was absolutely exhausted. He received little sleep last night, content with just watching the gentle rise and fall of his wife's chest
as she slept.
The atmosphere in the room was strange, in one corner there were the four men, very melancholic. However, all around them were men drinking as much as they could until they collapsed. Men betting away small fortunes, adamant with their reasoning that they wouldn't live anyway, so why the Hell care if they died poor? There were men singing their songs, in mocking tones if they liked the song, but didn't want to admit it so they made fun instead. There were men who were just conversing. About nothing in particular, really.
It hit the four men at this moment, as they surveyed the area, that everyone on this ship that was leaving the ship, knew too well they wouldn't live if the war raged on. It hit them with the force of an earthquake, and they couldn't deny it.
They went to sleep that night with cold frowns on their faces and having too much ill will for men of their twenty-one years.
Author's Chapter Notes:
I'm not sure how this is going to go, to be honest. Alfred's son's story is a true one, and I felt the need to dedicate it to the little guy who ran off to be a noble hero. This is just a fic to keep my annoying muse going, and so I don't get obsessed with Clover Child. Let me know if it's no good.