*~*Flashback*~*
"They tol' us you were dead," Jacob drawled.
"Well you were told wrong. I'm very much alive."
"Then why'd they tell us you were dead?" Lance shrugged in response.
"I know," came a voice from behind the two boys. Lance spun around on a heel. There, behind them, was Seth Marsden. A tall, burly seventeen year old who hadn't been to school since he was twelve.
"Seth," Lance nodded his head. Behind him was a familiar face. Sarah. Lance tipped his cap, keeping his facial expression neutral. "Ma'am."
She looked surprised. "Why, Lance, you're back," she said.
"That I am. How have you been?"
"Just fine, thank you. I didn't expect to see you, not after--" she was cut off by Seth's look, and she attached herself to his arm.
Lance looked around and saw the looks in everyone's eyes. He didn't like them. Not at all. "Well," he said, placing his cap back on his head. "I got what I came here for, so I'll be going now," his voice belying the nervousness he felt. He turned and tipped his cap once more to Sarah before going on his way out of town.
Seth nodded his head to Jacob, William, and Charles. "Get 'em."
"Seth, do you really think--" Sarah was again cut off by his sharp glance.
"He's sick. We don't need his kind here."
Jacob, William, and Charles took off running after Lance, who was on the outskirts of town. He looked back and saw them running after him. Eyes widening, he started sprinting away. "After him!" William yelled. They reached the woods.
Lance relaxed a little. He'd lived in these woods for the past year, he knew almost every inch. What he didn't anticipate, though, was an exposed root in his path. In his haste, his foot got caught, and he tripped. He got up as soon as he could, but Charles, the fastest of the three, caught up to him and tackled him to the ground. Lance winced, feeling a stick dig into his side.
Immediately, he was at the bottom of a pile of three of them. His chin hit the ground, and he bit his lip, tasting blood. "Any room left for me?" they heard a deep voice ask. It was Seth. William, Jacob, and Charles stepped away. Jacob and Charles held Lance up while Seth wound up. His fist connected solidly under Lance's eye. Then he punched him in the stomach.
Lance gasped for breath. "You...can...only hit me when I'm down, huh...Seth?"
"Why you..." Lance was rewarded with a fist near the mouth. Miraculously, none of his teeth were knocked out. He spit out the blood collecting in his mouth. The two dropped him at Seth's signal. "Don't come back to town...and stay away from Sarah," Seth growled, with one more kick at Lance's ribs.
Lance lay, moaning in pain. Finally he slowly, painfully picked himself up off the ground and went back to the clearing he'd come to call home. He spit out the blood again, and looked at all of his various wounds. "I guess my parents told the town."
*~*End Flashback*~*
"They really did that?" Joey asked, horrified.
Lance nodded, coming back to the present. Joey could see sparkling tears slipping down his face. He briefly wondered why they sparkled, but passed it off. "They did that whenever they saw me," Lance sighed.
"You mean you went back?" Joey was aghast.
"A few times," Lance said. "I couldn't live in complete isolation. I can't stand that. But every time I went, they followed me. Benny eventually joined in. There were more. Cap, RJ, Richard, Lucas."
"They all...they all..."
"Came after me and attacked me? Yes. Even when I didn't go to town, they'd track me down while I was in the woods. I had to learn to be careful, but sometimes, that isn't even enough."
"Why?" Lance looked at him, disbelief evident. "I don't mean that, I know they did it because you were gay, but were they really that against it?" he added quickly.
"Joey, it was the 1870s while this was happening. More than three quarters of the entire south hated Lincoln and still believed in slavery. You think they'd want to live with a person who didn't like members of the opposite sex?"
"So no one was on your side?"
"No. No one."
"How long...how long did this go on?"
"From when I was fifteen until I was twenty-one. The attacks started getting progressively worse."
"What do you mean?"
Lance's eyes glazed over again. "They stopped using just their fists. They threw rocks, sticks, brought knives, muskets."
"You ever get shot?"
"More than once. When I died..." Lance began, but couldn't finish. "The day I died..." he swallowed again. "When..." he cursed himself for his weakness and impatiently wiped all the tears away. Then he felt a soothing hand rubbing his back, but Joey was still in his seat. He looked to the left and saw Nikolas materialize.
"I'll tell him the rest," Nikolas said kindly.
"But I have to...I have an obligation to..."
"You're the exception, James," Nikolas said. "Now go to sleep." Lance suddenly found his eyelids unbearably heavy. His eyes closed and he fell asleep on Nikolas' lap.
"Lance? Lance?!" Joey asked, worried. He hadn't seen Nikolas appear. His eyes opened wide in shock when Nikolas made himself visible to Joey. "Who are you?"
"You know me as Nikolas," he replied.
"So you're Nikolas. Lance...speaks highly of you..." Joey said.
Nikolas chuckled, looking at the blonde head resting on his lap. "I'm sure he does." "What happened to him?"
"He's asleep."
"Why?"
"Because he can't tell you the rest."
"Why not?"
"It's too hard," Nikolas sighed. "So I'll tell you." He started to absently stroke his hand through Lance's hair.
"Well, what happened?" Joey asked curiously.
Nikolas looked at him with an odd expression on his face. "You don't understand everything, do you?" Joey shook his head, confused. "See, usually, when a charge finds out about their guardian, any questions he asks must be answered. By the guardian. And if that question is about their death, so be it. The guardian has to answer it."
"Then..."
"James is an exception."
Joey looked at him oddly. "Why?"
Nikolas sighed. "Because James' death is the worst death we've ever seen up there. Ever. And it's understandable that it's hard for him. But he's had to relive it every year on the anniversary of his death."
"Why?"
"You're full of questions," Nikolas said, amused. "But that's just the way it is. Especially for murders. It's hard enough to relive your death without it being as bad as it was for James, but to have to tell about it is extremely hard."
"Murder?" it hadn't really registered in Joey's brain that Nikolas said Lance's death was the worst.
"Yes, Joseph, James was murdered. And it's the worst case of murder anyone has seen in this millennium, if not before. You still want to know what happened?"
Joey looked at Lance, still sleeping but a little restless. He thought about how Lance had always helped them all, and that night he'd saved JC's life. "Can I ask you one thing first?"
"I'll see if I can answer."
"What happened tonight?" Nikolas frowned. "That was a hired gunman. He was sent by Benny, James had been right. Luckily, James has been doing his job extremely well, and was in the right place both times."
"But what exactly does Benny have against Lance?"
"Everything. But I won't get into their personal relationship, I came here to tell you how he died. So I'll ask once more, you're positive you want to know?"
Joey nodded. "Yeah."
"All right," Nikolas sighed. "I'll tell you. He told you about the first time, which was bad in itself. This was much worse. Much much worse."
*~*Flashback*~*
"Well look who showed up in town today. What are you doing here?"
"Sayin' goodbye. I'm leaving. Leaving Mississippi. You don't have to give up your weekends to come and beat the tar outta me anymore, ain't ya glad?"
"Very."
Lance nodded his head and walked towards the outskirts. As soon as he was out of sight, he sprinted towards the clearing, because he heard the yell. "HEY BOYS! LANCE IS FIXIN' TO LEAVE MISSISSIPPI!"
His legs weren't good anymore. The years of beating and the numerous bullets that had grazed them took their toll. He was surprised he wasn't dead yet. That's why he was leaving. He'd hoped they would forget about him, but it didn't work. He heard the yells and the shouts long before he saw anyone. Then he heard bangs and knew the guns weren't too far away. He didn't understand why they bothered to waste valuable ammunition on him. But they chose to, and much as he wished he could, he couldn't change a thing. He jumped over streams and roots. Hearing the voices get closer all the way. He ran and ran and ran, but it wasn't enough to get away.
Charles caught him first, as he always did. "Didn't get very far this time, didja, you disease?" He held him by the scruff of the neck and waited for the rest to catch up, Lance kicking all the way. "Why are you fighting? You know you ain't gonna win," he sneered. He shoved Lance to the ground, where his head hit a rock and he saw stars. Someone else -- Jacob -- kicked him in the head and he passed out.
When he came to, he was tied to a tree. He ached all over. He blinked and his eyes fluttered open. He soon wished they hadn't when he felt the white-hot pain of a musket ball in his leg. Something was running in between his eyes. It took him a few minutes before he realized what it was. His blood. Then he realized what the funny smell was.
Kerosene. His eyes widened in fear.
"Yes, that's right," Seth said, stepping forward. "We don't want you to leave. How else would we have fun?"
"Y'all are crazy, you know that?" he whispered, fearing for his life, trying to ignore the intense pain in his leg. An old soldier had once said that you got used to getting shot. Lance knew he was wrong, he could never get used to this. "Sick and Crazy."
"No, that's you," RJ sneered, stepping forward. "We all know you're going to go to Hell, Lance. We're just helping you get there."
For the first time, Lance noticed something. His left arm hurt something fierce. He looked at it, and saw that it was bent at an odd angle. Broken. He cursed under his breath. He'd never been beat so badly that a bone was broken. His shirt was torn and there was blood running down his back, he could feel it. He closed his eyes in defeat. His head hurt, his arm hurt, his leg hurt, everything hurt. "Why?" he whispered.
Lucas stepped forward. "You should know that, Lance."
"Enlighten me," he said. In his mind, he knew it was a lost cause but he didn't want to give up without a fight.
Lucas laughed. "If you don't know by now, there was never any hope for you." He stepped closer. "Never," he said. He slapped Lance in the face. The throbbing in his head increased as each member of Seth's band swung at him. He knew a couple fingers were broken now, maybe his nose. There was so much pain now, he couldn't distinguish where it was coming from. His blood was everywhere, but still they attacked him. He hung his head; there was nothing he could do.
"Yeah, you realize it now, don't you? We're not leaving until you're dead. We decided that the day you decided to leave, we'd get you. We can't have your disease spreading all across the country, can we?"
Lance spat out blood and choked out a sentence. "Well if it was contagious, wouldn't y'all just get it from touchin me?" That earned him a kick in the ribs so hard he heard a few crack. The few that weren't broken already. He slumped forward, the ropes digging into him causing intense pain. He refused to cry, though tears burned at his eyes. He heard the guns being loaded. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see.
"We couldn't get cannons or we would have used them," one snickered, it sounded like Cap.
Seth counted off. "One. Two. Three."
Lance heard five bangs and felt pain in five different places, one after another. Stomach. Leg. Shoulder. Arm. Other leg. He couldn't believe he wasn't dead yet. Neither, apparently, could Seth. The last thing Lance heard was Seth asking for a torch. Then, through a pain-filled haze, he saw more than felt the butt of a gun crack over his head.
*~*End Flashback*~*
"They set his body on fire. When they finally put it out, he was unrecognizable. They threw the body over a cliff. Every bone in it was broken. The skull had been crushed by sixteen or seventeen hits from the guns. Benjamin went down to get it and they tied a rope around his neck and hung it there for anyone to see. For good measure, they shot it a few more times." Nikolas finished and fell silent.
Joey had tears streaming freely down his face as he looked at Lance, who was still sleeping. "How could anyone do that? How?"
"I don't know," Nikolas replied. "When he got to Heaven, he didn't believe it. He was terrified, the only one that has been. Terrified that it was a trick, that he was really in Hell, that he was dreaming, and would wake up and they'd come to hurt him more. He really believed that he deserved to die. He thought he was a sinner for being gay. It took him a few years up there to accept the way he was. Do you understand why I was allowed to come and tell you?"
"Yes..." Joey said softly. "I can't even imagine...And you said he relives that every year?"
"August 8th. Joshua's birthday, if I'm not mistaken?" Joey's eyes widened. "That's why he messed up!"
"His mind was elsewhere," Nikolas said wryly. "I have to go now, but don't bring this up too often, okay? It's hard for him to deal with."
"I can only imagine," Joey said softly. "Thank you Nikolas. Thank you."
"You're welcome, Joseph. I'll see you eventually...assuming you behave!"
"Oh, I will," Joey said, allowing a small grin to creep over his face. "I will."