Chapter Text
Will exhaled sharply. Hesitantly tilting his head towards the grotesque display, a wave of calm washed over him. He observed, coolly, as the crimson guilt beaded on his skin. The remorse residing in his stomach began to settle, enabling itself to be gently flushed away by a fleeting rush of euphoria. Abnormally, Will felt in control. Although his skin was now littered with sinister slits, each pooling progressively as he gazed, Will felt a sickening sense of familiarity. He basked in peace for an evanescent second, before he was engulfed by anguish once more. In an impulse of frustration, Will harshly drew the blade across his skin. This time, it felt different. Worse. Unclenching his eyes, Will glanced down in fear. He watched in horror as the white flooded with red, blood rising dramatically. As the tears stung his eyes and the cuts stung his skin, Will reached for the tissue box beneath his dresser. Empty.
Shit.
Shit.
In a state of hyper-vigilant alert, Will sat crouched atop his bed. Blood slowly trickled down his arm, seeping softly from the gash and congregating around the dip in his wrist. He knew the bathroom was only a few footsteps away, but he also knew that El always left her bedroom door open 3 inches, force of habit. Will stood up, his hand tenderly cradling his wrist. He acknowledged it was risky to leave his room in this state, but allowing himself to bleed out was riskier. Shaking frailly, Will traipsed towards the door, stepping on a discarded shell of plastic.
"Fuck." Will recklessly spat under his breath. Refusing to recognize what he had just trodden on, he threw the thought from his mind, he had bigger problems to worry about. For example, slipping past El's room unnoticed. Will creaked open the door and stumbled over the threshold into the hallway.
After locking himself safely in the bathroom, Will looked to the sink's basin. He turned on the tap, permitting the water to cascade around his palm. Gradually letting the stream venture farther up his arm, Will held his breath. He watched, vision obscured by tears, as the water ran red. Noticing the tub, Will felt inclined to climb in. In that moment, it didn't seem a bad idea to submerge himself completely, granting permission for the oxygen to be rinsed from his lungs. But he knew there was no sense in drowning, for now at least. This realization supplied an alien sense of comfort, letting Will know he was not yet fully off the deep-end. Turning off the tap, he grabbed some tissue and applied pressure to his wounds. The bleeding began to cease as he leant beside the bath. His sigh of relief was abruptly cut short by a knocking at the door.
“Will?”
El?
“Will, are you there?”
Will grimaced, wiping his tears before answering.
“Yeah, give me a minute, I'm just washing my hands.”
“Are you okay? You sound not happy.” El chimed in, concern wavering in her curious voice.
“I’m fine, just leave.” Will paused, then continued, “Please.”
Eleven backed away from the door, lowering her hand from the door knob. Furrowing her brows, El turned heel, and began walking back towards her room. She rested her hand on the side of her door, however, before flinging it open, she turned her head. She was immediately confused by what she saw. It was unusual for Will to leave his door wide open, and El knew that. Dismissing the clear breach of privacy, she wandered towards his bedroom, a strange, tense, mist lining the air. She was greeted by further confusion. Disposed of on the floor lay the outer plastic of a pencil sharpener. Odd. Eleven could not fathom why someone would bother removing the blade from a sharpener, after all, that would render it functionless.
Right?
Thinking nothing of it, El picked it up, clutching it in her fist as she headed downstairs.
She approached the couch, on which Hopper sat, watching whatever show happened to be on at that time.
“Dad?” El uttered, causing hopper to swivel ‘round instinctively.
“Everything alright, kid?” He replied, taking in the worried expression plastered across El’s face.
El implored, "I think Will is sad.”
“Yeah?” Hopper frowned. “Why do you think that?”
“He was crying.” El wavered, “In the bathroom.”
Hopper absorbed this information ; however, his focus had now shifted to something else.
He hesitated, before prying, “What’s that in your hand, kid?”
El obliviously held out her hand, showing him the contents. The atmosphere swiftly formed into something more ominous, Hopper’s face twisting into a distressed expression.
“Where’d you get that?” He inquired, taking the sharpener from her hand and glaring at it in scrutiny.
El closed her palm, dropping her arm by her side. “I found it in Will’s room, I was going to put it in the bin.”
Wasting no time, Hopper shot out of his seat.
“Stay here, okay? I'm going to check on Will.” And with that, Hopper hurried upstairs.
El gazed on in puzzlement, sitting down on the couch and placing her hands in her lap.
Hopper was now in a state of panic. He gets left home with the kids for a few hours, and he finds out shit like this? Joyce would know exactly what to say, but she wasn’t here, so Hopper had to make do. When he got to the top of the stairs, the bathroom had already been abandoned, Will’s bedroom door firmly locked shut. Approaching the door, Hopper closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath, then massaging his temples. Gently, he raised his fist to the door, and knocked three times. An audible clutter ensued, similar to the noise of a drawer slamming shut, accompanied by other sounds.
“Who is it?” Will questioned, stuttering in failed attempt to cover up his hoarse voice.
Hopper placed his palm at the top of the doorframe. “It’s just me kid, can you let me in?”
“Give me a minute.”
Removing his hand from the door, Hopper folded his arms as the lock clicked. Subtly, he clutched the sharpener tighter. Will’s eyes were visibly red and puffy, the stain of a dried tear etched into his face.
“I need to talk to you quickly.”
Will nodded slightly, averting eye contact in order to disguise the tears ebbing from his eyes. He slumped down onto his bed, Hopper sitting beside him, about a foot away. Unable to articulate a sentence, Will lowered his head, instinctively cracking his knuckles. He didn’t know what Hopper was going to say, but common sense told him it was nothing good. Looking up at the ceiling, Hopper sighed.
He turned his head to face Will, opening his hand, “El found this in your room.”
Will shook his head, his fear-stricken face speaking volumes as he gazed at the piece of plastic. Glinting in the faint haze of late evening sunlight, a tear threatened to fall from his lashes.
“Why was this in your room kid?” Hopper pushed.
Subconsciously grasping his arms, Will’s eyes began to flicker around the room, searching for an excuse.
Hopper closed his palm. “Kid?”
“I, um, I don’t know.” He choked, breaking the seal that was preventing him from spilling open. Balling his sleeves into his fists, Will wiped the tears that broke free, a horrid lump forming in the back of his throat. Much to Will's upset, this only caused Hopper's suspicions to rise. The combination of Will's clear distress and his adamance to wear long sleeves in the harsh California heat seemed to piece together a little too perfectly. Will clenched his fists tighter, not bothering to disguise the tears which were now flowing down his cheeks. After all, there was no longer any point to attempt deception.
Hopper already knew.
"Show me your arms, Will."
Will instantly became defensive. "Why? There's nothing wrong with my arms."
Shit.
If it wasn't obvious before, it was definitely obvious now.
"If there's nothing wrong with your arms," Hopper stated, "then you wouldn't mind showing me."
Hanging his head, Will sat quietly. Hopper followed. They contemplated for the next few minutes, accompanied only by the gentle hum of the air-conditioning. Fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve, Will was the first to break the silence.
"Would you be mad at me if..." He trailed off, pushing his head into his hands as his voice broke.
"No kid. No. Please just talk to me, yeah?"
Will stopped trying to stifle his cries, sobbing softly into his palms. Hopper placed a hand on his shoulder.
"It was only supposed to be a one time thing. I didn't- I didn't want- it wasn't supposed to get this bad."
"I understand it's difficult, but you have to show me, okay?"
Holding out his forearm in Hopper's direction, Will diverted his line of sight. It was almost as if he believed that if he couldn't see what he had done, then it didn't exist. The nightmare would be over. But he couldn't take back what had already happened, and he had to live with the consequences, whether he liked it or not. Hopper rolled up his sleeve.
It was worse than he had expected, Hopper would be lying to think otherwise. Keeping composure, he flipped over Will's arm, in order to further recognize the extent of his injuries. Will pulled his arm back just as quickly as it turned, but it was too late. Hopper had already seen what he had carved into his skin.
Fag