Chapter Text
The words didn’t process the first time he heard Ayub say it to him. “Sorry, what?” Simon asked, clearly needing clarification. The smile on his face dropped in a matter of moments.
“Crown Prince is sent to hospital after a suicide attempt, sources can neither confirm nor deny the prince current status,” Ayub repeated, showing Simon the dark headline on his phone for the second time that month. Simon felt his heart drop into his stomach as he stood up. His hands were shaking so violently that his hand of Uno cards flew out of his hands, fluttering around his feet.
“No- no that’s not right. Wille… he wouldn’t-” Simon stammered out, looking across Sara, Rosh, Ayub, and his mother’s faces. “He wouldn’t,” Simon repeated as if he was defending something.
He knows Wille, Wille wouldn’t do something like this. He just wouldn’t. There’s no way. It felt like the ground beneath him fell as he blinked, not feeling anything for a moment. He put his hand over his mouth, holding back a violent gasp from his throat as his emotions hit him like a wave crashing over the beach.
“Simon, Simon,” Sara said repeatedly, shaking his shoulders. “Simon, there’s a car here. Felice sent a car, she’s here. Come on, we have to go.” She said with an alarming certainty in her voice.
Simon just nodded, forsaking a jacket as he walked directly outside. Sara trailed behind holding two jackets. The car ride was a blur. He remembers certain senses. Felice sobbing. Sara whispered into her ear. The bumpy road sending jolts through the teenagers. The smell of the night’s air once the windows were lowered.
Simon stepped out of the car before it had stopped moving. He saw the mountain of paparazzi at the door and felt hopeless for a moment. Then Malin showed up, almost like a beacon of light for the three kids. She parted the crowd of news reporters for the teenagers like the red sea, storming through the halls with Simon biting at her ankles.
When she stopped abruptly at the room, Simon almost face planting into her back. He walked around her, feeling her put a hand on his chest. “You aren’t allowed in. But the curtains are open, so you can see him. I think it’s important that you see him,” she said with a raspy voice, gesturing to the raised blinds.
Simon walked to the window, placing his fingers on the cold glass. His breath caught in his throat when he saw Wille. If you could even call the body laying there Wille. His hair was a mess, and he was all pale. He seemed to be thinner than Simon’s ever seen him. He was morbidly still, the only motion being his chest rising and falling slowly.
Simon finally let out the sob that he’d been holding in the back of his throat. He fell to his knees, Sara rushing to his side and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Suddenly he was so cold. He was so cold that his goosebumps became worse with every shuddering breath.
“He’s alive, Simme, he’s alive. He’ll be ok,” Felice reassured on his other side. He hadn’t fully registered her presence before this. “he’s just sleeping.”
“No- no that’s not him. It can’t be him. He- he hates lying on his back, it’s not comfortable. Oh god, he must be so cold, he’s always cold.” Simon rambled through his trembling breaths. “That’s not him, it can’t be him,” Simon pleaded with the universe.
The next few hours were like a haze. He must’ve spent an hour on the floor outside of Wille's room; his knees sure felt like it. All he was waiting for was for Wille to wake up. Once he woke up, Simon would be able to see him. After the Queen leaves. That’s what Malin promised.
He was sitting in the nearest waiting area, far enough for the queen to not know he’s there, but close enough to know if anything serious happens. He heard what sounded like five feet and clicking heels walk down the hall, stopping at one small point.
There wasn’t much sound after that. You’d hear a lady raise her voice slightly loud enough to echo down the hall every fifteen minutes or so, but you never heard anyone else raise their voices.
Simon waited for about an hour after that before the heels clicked away and Malin appeared in front of him. He gasped for air as if he’d been actually holding his breath this entire time. He followed Malin to the door, noticing that the curtains were drawn now.
He stepped through the doorway and there he was. In the same placement, except his arms were folded over his chest, and he was sitting up slightly more. He was looking off to the right, so he didn’t notice Simon right away. It was apparent he was deep in thought, his puffy bloodshot eyes obviously sticking out.
“Wille,” Simon breathed out, catching his attention. Wille sat up more, going to use his arm to shift his position before flinching violently. “No, no don’t move,” Simon said, rushing up to him, sitting down on the bed just near Wille's waist.
“I-” Wille started to say before his voice got caught in his own throat. “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry, I just-” He apologized as a tear rolled down his cheek. His voice was raspy and dry, but that didn’t seem to matter.
“No,” Simon shushed Wille, reaching down to hold his hand carefully, making sure he wasn’t touching the bandage at all. “You don’t have to tell me anything. Don’t feel obligated. You scared me, you big fuck,” He said trying and succeeding in earning a wet laugh from Wille.
Wille squeezed his hand, leaning forward with slouched shoulders, “I’m tired, fuck I’m so tired.” He admitted with a small sniff, “I just want you. Is that- is that so much to ask for?” He asked sadly as he stared at his own feet. “I can’t fucking do this anymore. I can’t just go out and pretend it wasn't me. That I don’t want to be with you.”
Simon didn’t have an answer for that. He let it sit instead. The two of them with linked hands and intertwining thoughts. Wille used his other hand and brought it up to his chest, rubbing small circles just at his collar bone.
“Why can’t I be with you and not say anything?” Wille asked, and in that moment Simon knew how far gone he was. The two had been through so much that their minds had been broken. Wille had become so angry to the point of becoming numb.
“Because of your mom,” Simon whispered after consideration. Wille looked away, clenching his jaw.
“Fuck her.” He said looking back at Simon, leaning forward. “She’s barely even my mom. Can we, can you and I, can we try this?” Wille asked after finding a way to phrase his words.
“I wouldn’t want anything else, but are you sure? I don’t want you to feel forced to do this or anything. I don’t want you getting hurt,” He said looking down at their joint hands. The ‘again’ hung silently in the air, both of them knew it was lingering but neither wanted to say it.
@PrinceWilhelm
Photo description: Simon and Wille holding hands in a hospital bed, Wille resting his head on Simon’s shoulder and laughing at something Simon said.
@PrinceWilhelm:He’s great <3 (credits to @Felice for being a great photographer)
“It’s not much, but it’s a start,” Wille said, clicking the little post button, watching his notifications fill with comments, likes, and even follows.
Simon took a deep breath, watching Wille close his phone. “I love you too,”