Chapter Text
Willie never would have imagined the hardest part of adjusting to being human again would be to allow themselves to feel safe and loved. As safe as they felt with Alex, Julie and the guys, they still kept waiting for the day they’d be told they were overstaying their welcome with the Molinas. It never felt like the Molina’s house was permanently their home, and though Willie was aware the feeling came from anxiety and not reality, they couldn’t shake it.
That was, until two distinct occasions when Willie realized Ray Molina was truly, unconditionally, there for them.
The first occasion was during one weekend, a few months after becoming undead, when the band was off to a gig. Normally, Willie would tag along, but the band had a show in Vegas that weekend. Willie could have gone, but their memories of the years the Ghost Club played in Vegas were…not good, so they opted to stay home with Ray and Carlos (who’d likely spend the weekend with friends anyway). Though they were relieved to get out of going to the hell on earth that was Vegas, it was intimidating not having Alex around. But Willie had made a plan. They had busses to catch, streets to skate, waves to surf, and many a taco truck to hunt down. It was going to be the perfect weekend.
That was, until Willie wiped out when his skateboard hit a rock a whole two hours into his perfect weekend. Willie grimaced as they fought with the key in the lock to the Molina’s house, cursing the universe for taking away their teleportation and phasing powers after becoming undead. Their left leg hurt like hell and felt like it was bleeding, they were limping badly and their left arm was all scraped up; even their hands were scraped up. Ray shouldn’t be home yet, and if Willie played their cards right, they could slip inside, grab some kind of antibiotic, towels, gauze and ice before anyone noticed they were hurt.
Instead, as soon as they entered the house they found Ray at the kitchen table, setting up his laptop for work.
“Hey, Willie! I didn’t expect you to be back until…” his face fell as soon as he registered Willie was hurt. “Mijo, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing!” Willie insisted quickly, even as they awkwardly clung to the staircase railing. “I’m…totally…totally fine!”
“Willie,” Ray called, “are you hurt, mijo?”
“…no?”
Ray hurried over, crossing his arms as he watched Willie’s pitiful attempt to climb the stairs, trying to act like nothing was wrong. In their mind, Willie flashed back suddenly, remembering the numerous times Caleb would tower over them, glaring with his disapproving eyes. A shiver went through them…
“Willie,” Ray sighed this time, reaching out for them as he helped Willie back down from the stairs and to sit at the kitchen table.
He motioned for Willie to roll up their sleeve, and they sighed as they finally gave in. Ray stiffened at the cuts that trailed up their arm, mixed with dirt.
“Let me see your leg,” Ray asked, waving his arm toward his ripped jeans.
Willie sighed again, rolling up their pants leg and both of them winced at the sight of fresh blood trickling down the leg from a deep cut and the ankle was swollen badly. The worry in Ray’s eyes was obvious, and Willie knew he was probably contemplating emergency rooms and health care cost and he probably did not have time to sit in some overcrowded hospital with an undead kid who wasn’t even his right now.
“It’s fine,” Willie lied. “I wiped out on my board, it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”
“Really?” Ray raised an eyebrow.
He gave an experimental poke to Willie’s leg and they yelped in pain.
“Okay…it’s kinda bad,” they admitted, “but I can deal with it! You don’t have to worry about me, I’ll be out of your hair, I promise. I’ll get some ice and lay down in the studio and-"
“Willie,” Ray said again, his voice kinder, full of sympathy. Willie dared to look up at him, guilt-ridden for getting so hurt. “It’s okay, kids get hurt.”
Willie hesitated- it wasn’t like he was a normal kid. They were practically an adult before dying, besides the extra thirty-five years they got to spend on this earth as a ghost; they were too old for someone else’s dad to have to worry about them getting injured.
“I knew better,” Willie mumbled. “You have so much going on, you don’t need this.”
“You don’t take in four kids without planning for emergencies,” Ray assured them. "That cut's deep, it will probably need stitches, and we need to get an x-ray of your ankle."
Willie didn’t have the heart to argue as Ray helped them up and helped them walk out to the car.
Twenty-first century hospitals, it turned out, were terrible. Willie kept offering for them to go back home, but Ray kept insisting they wait it out and so the two of them sat side-by-side, huddled in the back of a packed L.A. emergency room. Thankfully, waiting was a skill they had picked up at the Ghost Club, thanks to many days trapped in the darkness of Caleb’s Dark Room dungeons. There wasn’t a line at Disneyland or traffic jam on the 105 that Willie couldn’t wait out, but this was different. The moans of the sick and injured, the coughs, the complaining of everyone from kids to the elderly to the staff themselves, the overwhelming smells of blood and metallic and cleaning supplies…this was testing him.
“Okay, that guy was definitely here after us,” Willie complained, when yet another person that wasn’t them was called.
“That guy’s on oxygen and has pneumonia,” Ray pointed out. “They take people according to level of emergency.”
Great, they were probably way down the line in that case. They shifted in their seat, trying to ignore how their leg was feeling kind of numb. Willie adjusted the ice on their leg and rubbed at their arm, hating themselves for being in so much pain.
You’re weak, William, they could hear Caleb jeer and their eyes closed tightly, blocking out any flashbacks before they could start.
Pathetic.
Letting out a shaky breath, Willie opened his eyes, deciding grounding himself in the overwhelming environment of the E.R. was at least better than Ghost Club memories. To busy themselves, they watched as Ray went through his emails on his phone, then went back to the photos he had been sorting through. He could even edit some of them from his phone, cropping them and fixing the lighting.
“Woah, I had no idea you could do all that on your phone,” Willie commented as they watched Ray apply a filter that really brought out the lighting on a sunset wedding shot. “That’s an incredible photo.”
“Thanks,” Ray smiled as he admired his own work. “I’ve shot a lot of weddings. You would think it would get old but each time you’re capturing the start of someone’s new life journey…it’s pretty amazing. I love shooting outdoor weddings.”
For a few moments Ray worked and Willie watched, taking in the colors of all the shots and how much story Ray was able to capture in one little photo.
“How did you get started, in photography?” Willie asked.
Ray shrugged.
“It was actually in college,” he explained. “I originally went for business, but the only class I enjoyed was my photography class.”
Eyebrow raised, Willie stared at him, surprised.
“You can take photography in college?”
“Oh yes,” Ray nodded. “There are entire art and film schools.”
“Really?”
It was like vaguely Willie was aware of that, but it wasn’t like college was ever in the cards for them. They had never really thought about it…but Willie always did love art. Learning more about art history would have been amazing, though they learned quite a bit by haunting museums and libraries. When they traveled with the Ghost Club their favorite part was the few moments of freedom they got to visit museums abroad and imagine what it would be like, to have a piece of art so cherished that someone wanted to hang it in a museum, for others to visit for years to come.
“I used to love to paint,” Willie confessed. Ray looked up, genuinely curious. “I mean…I liked to spray paint. I…still…I still like to, to be honest.”
They winced, hoping Ray wouldn’t be too mad, but to his surprised he chuckled.
“I had a feeling,” Ray admitted, “for awhile Alex’s shirts always had paint stains on them in the laundry.”
“Yeah, well, he’s a newbie,” Willie smirked. “I promise, it’s nothing too illegal. I used to like to do canvas stuff too. Art was the only class I liked in school. Photography seems cool, especially now, like…you don’t have to wait until you have supplies, you can just snap a photo and save a moment in time.”
“Cameras have come a long way since you were in school,” Ray mused. “I’ve always liked being the behind-the-scenes guy, shooting and filming concerts. I never had much talent but it makes you feel like you’re part of the show, but no one notices you. I used to love shooting Rose’s shows.”
He flipped through his phone, pulling up some older photos of Rose in concert, and sad smiles crossed both of their faces. Willie wasn’t blind, they could see how pretty Rose was and how Ray’s eyes lit up even to this day when he saw pictures of her.
“Those are amazing,” Willie told him. Then it hit him for the first time- they were pretty sure this was Ray’s first time back in a hospital since Rose. “I’m so sorry, about what happened to her. I guess…it’s probably pretty hard being back in a hospital.”
Ray stayed quiet as he pocketed his phone, looking a little anxious.
“It’s okay,” he offered, clasping Willie’s shoulder.
He didn’t look okay at all, but before Willie could beat himself up with more guilt a nurse suddenly called out:
“William Molina?”
Helped up by Ray, Willie hobbled at last back to the procedure rooms. They were given an x-ray, a fresh ice pack, and then there was more waiting. Now, without the hustle and bustle of the E.R. Willie found themselves growing more and more nervous as they waited for the doctor. What if the cut was a lot worse than they thought? What if they had internal bleeding or really, really hurt their ankle? The fall replayed in their head over and over as they thought of all the ways it could have been worse. If they had hit their head, or if a fall like that happened while they were skating closer to traffic and they fell into the road.
Without warning, the echoes of screeching tires, the blaring of a horn and screams of onlookers struck them. They could feel their head thumping against the pavement, hard, and for a split second their vision went black in panic.
“Willie?” Ray asked cautiously.
“I was hit by a truck,” Willie blurted out. Their hands gripped the sides of the hospital bed as they closed their eyes tight, trying to block out the memory. “When I died, I…I was doing a trick, it was a stupid trick, and I was hit by a truck and my head hit the ground and my neck snapped and…"
They were remembering everything now, everything they had pushed back all those years at the Ghost Club. All of the pain, all of the fear. Everything Caleb had let him forget, under his spell. Their breath was coming in short, haggard gasps, and their chest felt too tight.
“Mijo, it’s okay,” Ray assured him as he jumped up, moving beside them.
They wanted Alex, but Alex was in soundcheck hours away.
What if the accident had been serious, what if they had…what if Alex came home, and they weren’t there anymore? Willie let out a shaky breath as squeezed their eyes tightly, rocking back and forth. Vaguely they were aware of Ray speaking to them, trying to coach them through breathing; they could feel his hand on their back, trying to steady them. Tears were seeping through their eyes, and they hated themselves for it.
“It’s okay,” Ray murmured. “You’re perfectly okay, it was just an accident. Accidents are a part of being human.”
That was the problem- it was just an accident before too, and they shouldn’t be human. Somehow, Willie had cheated death. What if the universe wasn’t exactly happy with them for it?
Of course, of all moments, the doctor chose that moment to knock on the door and poked their head in to deliver the results.
Sprained ankle. Deep cut that would require stitches. Wrist wasn’t injured too badly but keep an eye out for any worsening swelling. Be more careful next time.
Make sure you wear protective gear. You wouldn’t want to get hurt any worse or…
“We got it,” Ray cut in before the doctor could say it.
Willie couldn’t even look at the doctor, they were so anxious and embarrassed. They didn’t speak as the cut was stitched up and they were instructed on how to keep it clean. At last, Willie was hobbling back to the car with the help of Ray and a cheap pair of crutches. Climbing into the SUV hurt more than it should have, but Ray was patient as he helped and finally they were ready to go home.
“Willie,” Ray spoke up gently before driving off, “I know the things you’ve been through aren’t exactly things you can talk about to a therapist, and I know you talk to Alex a lot, but I’m always here, if you need someone to talk to.”
“Thanks. I’m…I’m really sorry, that you had to deal with all of this.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Ray promised. His phone went off them, and Ray smiled as he answered, hearing who it was. “Yeah, yeah they’re fine- Willie, it’s Alex, they just got out of soundcheck.”
Their heart leapt as they took the phone from Ray.
“Hey Hotdog,” Willie winced at how shaky their voice still was. “How’s Vegas?”
“It sucks, just like you said. Are you really okay? Do you need anything?”
Willie glanced up to Ray, who was leafing through the paperwork the hospital gave them, carefully reading the doctor’s notes, like he would if it were one of his own ‘real’ kids. The sight made him stop and somehow, they felt a little more reassured that they’d be okay.
“I’m okay,” Willie assured him. “Don’t worry about me, really.”
“Take it easy, okay?” Alex pleaded. “Remember the R.I.C.E. method.”
They blinked, remembering the doctor saying something similar.
“What do you know about the R.I.C.E method, Dr. Mercer?”
“I lived in a garage with Luke and Reggie…you think this is my first rodeo with sprained ankles?”
A smile peered from the corners of their lips, and suddenly Willie was missing all of their friends…and most importantly, their boyfriend.
“Was there a lot of blood?” Alex asked cautiously.
“Oh yeah…so much blood.” They could practically see Alex throwing up in their mouth a little, and their smile brightened. “I’m okay, though. Ray’s here. Go and have an awesome show, okay? I love you, Alex.”
“I love you too.”
Their chest felt a lot less tight after talking to their boyfriend and they handed Ray his phone back.
“Thanks, for everything,” Willie offered. "I still can't believe you took all of those photos on that phone."
With a chuckle, Ray offered:
"I could teach you sometime, if you want. It's probably time you guys all have your own phones anyway."
Willie's face lit up, excited about the idea of getting to text Alex whenever they wanted...granted most of the time Alex was right there beside them, but still. It would be cool to get to take more photos.
"That would be amazing!"
Ray shrugged casually, though Willie knew it couldn't be cheap to buy phones for four teenagers.
"If you're really want to learn some photography, I have an old camera you can mess around with, if you want, and I can show you how to edit photos for real.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Ray smiled, “I have a shoot coming up later this month that I could really use a photography assistant for, if you’re interested.”
Willie’s eyes lit up.
“Woah…really? Like…a gig?”
“Yes, mijo, like a gig. I can’t pay much but-"
“You don’t have to pay me at all.”
Shaking his head, Ray waved his hands as though to insist that he would.
“You’ll have to rest that ankle before you can help with any gig,” Ray pointed out. “You ready to go home?”
Home.
All this time, Willie wasn’t sure what his place was in the Molina’s family, but today Ray had treated them just like one of his own kids. Willie wasn’t just another minion or a tool for someone to use however they wanted. The Molinas loved them and cared for them, as one of their own. For the first time, it didn’t matter to an adult that they had screwed up- it really only did matter to Ray that they were okay.
“Yeah,” Willie replied, “let’s go home.”
When Caleb recruited them to the Ghost Club, all they wanted was to feel safe again, to have any kind of home, but the Ghost Club was no home- it was a prison.
And it was finally hitting them that they never had to go back.
Willie finally felt safe.