Mike looks at him like his mom looks at him, like Jonathan and El and Hopper look at him, like they know that ‘I’m fine’ means ‘I’m not telling you what’s wrong’ instead of ‘nothing is wrong’ and it really sucks that Mike is another name on a list of people he can’t bring himself to open up to but he supposes it was inevitable. He kept thinking they could pull it back, that he could move on from all the times they’ve screamed unpleasantries at each other or hidden things or straight up lied to each others faces like every pact they made as kids meant nothing at all. He can feel the rift growing every time he achieves something and doesn’t call, every time he wonders how Mikes life is playing out miles away from him and waits for the phone to ring and it doesn’t. Every time he checks his mail and feels the tiny spark of hope extinguish. He hadn’t even known how this was going to go after he had to cut the one call they’ve had (on his birthday) short because he was running late to his own party.
He hasn’t got the first clue how to bridge the chasm anymore and it’s like Mike doesn’t know how either. He doesn’t reach out, physically or otherwise, where he would have before. Will can’t think about it because he’ll start to cry and if he cries he’ll have to pull over and they’ll be stuck in this strange limbo waiting for the guillotine to drop and sever their bond for good.
It hurts more than looking at the memorial where the library once stood. It hurts more than every mean thing Daniel has said over the phone. He spoke once about ripping the bandaid off and now they’re soaked and he’s still bleeding and he can’t just do it.
Mike sinks in his seat and Will wants to apologise for everything, sorry I love you, sorry I didn’t fight for us when you told me you couldn’t do it, sorry I’m terrified that if I let you in you’ll realise I’m a lost cause too, sorry I didn’t die and I’m just killing everything I touch instead. He blinks and tries to stop his eyes from prickling. Knuckles turning white on the steeling wheel. He clenches his lip between his teeth, bites down until it stings and he feels like he can speak without apologising for existing at all.
“It doesn’t matter what he said, he just snapped at me and I overreacted.” He’s always overreacting, too sensitive, feeling everything too deeply, letting his feelings get hurt when he should let things wash over him instead. Everything his father hated. “I feel bad that I ruined both our evenings, that’s all.”
Will lets it sit for a moment and he wants to tell Mike that he’s not sure this relationship is going to work, he’s not sure anybody deserves to have to cope with him and his litany of issues. “He’s great usually, he’s just having a bad time and I’m… I don’t know. It’s hard being back here, seeing everything we lost and being back in all the places where…” he hiccups trying to swallow the feelings. “We’re going the long way.” Will admits taking a turn in the wrong direction. “I can’t go past the place I had to bundle my brother into Steve’s car while we tried to save his leg and his life. I can’t do it. I can’t unsee the blood.”
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Date: 2024-04-09 06:42 pm (UTC)He hasn’t got the first clue how to bridge the chasm anymore and it’s like Mike doesn’t know how either. He doesn’t reach out, physically or otherwise, where he would have before. Will can’t think about it because he’ll start to cry and if he cries he’ll have to pull over and they’ll be stuck in this strange limbo waiting for the guillotine to drop and sever their bond for good.
It hurts more than looking at the memorial where the library once stood. It hurts more than every mean thing Daniel has said over the phone. He spoke once about ripping the bandaid off and now they’re soaked and he’s still bleeding and he can’t just do it.
Mike sinks in his seat and Will wants to apologise for everything, sorry I love you, sorry I didn’t fight for us when you told me you couldn’t do it, sorry I’m terrified that if I let you in you’ll realise I’m a lost cause too, sorry I didn’t die and I’m just killing everything I touch instead. He blinks and tries to stop his eyes from prickling. Knuckles turning white on the steeling wheel. He clenches his lip between his teeth, bites down until it stings and he feels like he can speak without apologising for existing at all.
“It doesn’t matter what he said, he just snapped at me and I overreacted.” He’s always overreacting, too sensitive, feeling everything too deeply, letting his feelings get hurt when he should let things wash over him instead. Everything his father hated. “I feel bad that I ruined both our evenings, that’s all.”
Will lets it sit for a moment and he wants to tell Mike that he’s not sure this relationship is going to work, he’s not sure anybody deserves to have to cope with him and his litany of issues. “He’s great usually, he’s just having a bad time and I’m… I don’t know. It’s hard being back here, seeing everything we lost and being back in all the places where…” he hiccups trying to swallow the feelings. “We’re going the long way.” Will admits taking a turn in the wrong direction. “I can’t go past the place I had to bundle my brother into Steve’s car while we tried to save his leg and his life. I can’t do it. I can’t unsee the blood.”