The Royal Scandal | Prince William |

Fallout

July 1, 2007

It could have been the day, the reason for the very concert, the memories, or even the sleep deprivation, but William's anxiety lurched the second he realized Jaclyn was late. His Jaclyn who considered thirty minutes early to be on time. It was Harry's assurance that they were probably giving Caleb extra time to rest that got William to start the sound check with the crew.

It only took ten minutes for him to lose it, and send his personal security to go find them. After that he pushed through twenty more minutes of prepping, checking his watch every chance his mind told him to, and focusing more on the entrances than on the actual task.

No one realized it, but Jaclyn was his safety, the precaution put in place to tame him in all ways possible.

"Your Royal Highness..." He turned to face the stuttering voice, one of the assistants that helped backstage for the concert. "There's been an accident-"

But he didn't need to hear more.

At that moment his world fell away, and he was fifteen again trailing behind his mother's casket. A place he never wanted to be, but was forced to be because the public would think him heartless otherwise. The only comfort that day had been his grandfather beside him. Now he was alone, helpless as the Webber's came in.

His vision turned red. Michelle and Brad trying to comfort a screaming and sobbing Caleb who covered his eyes painfully. They kept glancing behind them, clearly worried for their daughter, but held back by Caleb's hands and the wave of security guards surrounding her. Jaclyn was shuffling along, supported by people on both sides as she wobbled on her scabbed, bruised, and bloody legs. Her eyes couldn't seem to focus, and her head lulled from side to side as if she might just pass out. A gash spread from her hairline to right above her eyebrow, blood falling freely across the side of her face, and she didn't seem to notice.

William ran to her, close enough to inspect everything. Her glazed and bleary eyes told him everything. The paparazzi did this.

"Your Royal Highness, she needs medical help, and I would suggest her family get checked as well. The youngest especially seems to have a light sensitivity problem." William nodded to the man, who handed Jaclyn off to him carefully, and everyone stepped back as the Webber's followed him. They all knew what was to come once the prince was sure Jaclyn would be alright.

"Jac," he whispered softly aware that her ears could still be pounding. His hand caressed her cheek watching as she relaxed into his touch, eyes drooping tiredly. "I'm fine," she whispered voice fragile. She was glass under his touch, her thick skin worn to tatters over the situation. A situation he was still partly in the dark about.

The big question was on the tip of his tongue, and more than that he wanted to scream and curse every last person that hurt them. When he turned to face Brad, who looked faint and dazed himself, the man simply glanced at the gathering people. This was not the right place.

In the private box that overlooked the stadium, Michelle finally collapsed in a chair, and with the noise evaporating around them slowly Caleb was calming down in her lap. Even Brad, who hardly ever shed his tough guy act, sank into a chair beside his wife and rubbed at his head.

William had to guide Jaclyn to sit down or she would have stayed pressed to him. He himself probably would've preferred that, but someone needed to get her cleaned up. It was the gash above her forehead he was worried about. It must not have been too bad because she was still walking, but he didn't want to take a chance when it was still profusely bleeding. Her bloodied knees didn't seem awful, but he winced to think of how she would manage to dance tomorrow knowing everything would bruise.