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The soft sound of crying seeps into the hallway, despite the bedroom door being closed, despite the best efforts of Will Byers trying to conceal his momentary pain. Jonathan stands outside, as stiff as a board, unsure of how he should proceed with the situation.
Will has grown, he's a high school student, he's taller, broader in figure, voice deeper- it's no longer as easy as approaching the same child when he was small, thin, fragile, no more 12 years of age. The exchanges in regards to conversations that meant something started to fizzle out.
With Jonathan waiting for college, Will faces the awkward social interactions of High School practically alone, trying to guide an equally awkward pseudo sister sibling while dealing with his own challenges. But regardless, in the past, Will would approach his older brother and admit his troubles.
Unfortunately, with age comes self preservation, and Will, the once ever curious child, is now a kid who fears rejection more than before. A feeling so small and nearly irrelevant has become clouded, consumed, with the knowledge that a slip up could result in major, chaotic, loss.
They had this conversation in the Pizza Shop restaurant while preparing the sensory deprivation 'tank' in the kitchen, but it didn't go beyond that. Jonathon has always been able to read Will, and upon listening to his description of the painting, it clicked. He always had his suspicions, but the moment that Will basically lied about El commissioning the art piece, everything made more sense than before. The fog lifted, and Jonathan felt his chest tighten, glancing at the rear view as he silently watched his brother fall apart, cry in solitude, after admitting his true feelings for Mike while using El in his own place.
"Will?" Jonathan tries, lightly knocking, hoping to receive some form of response, but instead the crying abruptly stops, and a quick series of sniffling follows along with the sound of a throat being cleared. "Hey Will, you alright?" When no response follows, Jonathan tries for the door knob, meeting with the unfortunate theory he already foresaw- locked. "Hey buddy, can I come in? I know there's something up."
The sound of shuffling could be heard, the younger sibling probably getting off the bed, followed by footsteps over creaking wooden planks that, as soon as getting too close to the door, stopped. "Uh, can I have a moment to myself?"
Jonathan stared at the oak face of the door, biting at his bottom lip, keeping a sigh to himself. He knew this might happen too, but was hoping his younger brother would, like before, simply open up to him, literally and metaphorically, when something needed to be discussed. "Sure," Jonathan said instead, closing his eyes tight and shaking his head to himself, knowing that walking away wasn't the best of choices. "But, listen, whatever this is, we really need to talk about it. Please? Will?" He tried again, resting his head against the doors wooden surface, waiting, hand loosely gripping the doorknob.
For a long moment, Will didn't seem to move, but Jonathan could hear the sniffling and slow breathing. The younger was most likely trying to rid of any traces in regards to his crying.
A light click from the doorknob indicated that it had been unlocked. Retreating footsteps followed, and the sound of shuffling.
"Ok, I'm coming in." Jonathan announced, slowly opening the door, poking his head in. He didn't let it show, making sure his expression remained as neutral as possible, as he stared at his younger sibling sitting atop his bed, angry red blotches covering his face after crying for so long. "Hey." Jonathan softly greeted with a gentle smile. This was a topic that needed to be exchanged carefully, which meant even the slightest sign of frustration, confusion, or irritation could result poorly. "Mind if I sit there?" He nods toward a swivel chair stationed against a desk, the surface of the table covered in forgotten homework.
Will glanced towards the seat his brother was referring to, then nodded, keeping his gaze toward the ground.
"So," Jonathan cautiously started, taking a seat, sitting upright with his hands resting atop his knees. "At the restaurant- we were gonna have this conversation but the situation kinda made it hard. I know I talked about us not approaching each other as we used to, but I really need you to know. Will, I meant what I said. I'll love you, no matter what, and I'll always be here for you. You believe me, right?" Jonathan stared at the youngers crestfallen expression, waiting for any indication that meant things were turning sour. Will finally nodded. "Ok, good. Because it's true. Regardless of what it is, you can come to me. You can talk to me. I want that for you, as much as I wanted it for myself when I was much younger." He leaned forward, elbows resting against his thighs, forearms hanging between his parted legs, hands clasped, eyes staring into Will's. "You wanted to say more back then, but you couldn't. But we're home now. You can talk to me now."
Will's eyes darted up from the ground, meeting Jonathan's. He opened and closed his mouth like a gaping fish, drowning out of water. He then shook his head to himself, looking away. "It's nothing."
"Clearly it's not 'nothing', Will." Jonathan smiled softly, but he knew there was a hint of sadness in his tired eyes. "You've been sad."
Will sighed, trying to make light of the situation. "Aren't I always? With having to move out of Hawkins, and going to this crappy school. I miss my friends."
"Yeah," Jonathan nodded, eyes searching the room. "I miss Nancy, every day. Sometimes I just wanna grab a car, or hitch a ride along the road and go back."
The younger's eyes looked back to Jonathan, hands wriggling, clearly unsure of what to add. "So... Why don't you go back?" He startled lightly when his brother looked to him with a hint of confusion. "I mean you're old enough to live there. Plus with the hush money Hawkins lab gave us- you'd be able to even by a house in Hawkins, and live in it with Nancy. So.... Why don't you?"
Jonathan stared for a beat longer, then looked away, thinking of the best way to respond. He could lie, but Will wasn't too off the mark. He had considered leaving, had considered getting a house in Hawkins, just to be close to Nancy, to eventually live with her, but... He couldn't leave his mom, and he definitely couldn't leave Will. With the addition of El, moving would be harder because then his mom would have to care for two teenagers, one of which is usually an interest to international governing or military personnel. If he lied, Will would be able to tell. "I have thought about it." He admitted, not failing to notice the way Will's face slightly fell. "But I also realized that I'd rather be here, with you, with mom, and El. I have a job here, and a friend. I'm ok with being here. Maybe when I get old enough, I'll move out, just like you will too someday." He smiled toward Will, who seemed both happy but bothered by Jonathan's answer. "But, hey," He leaned forward, patting the beds disheveled surface. "Let's stay on topic, ok?" That didn't seem to sit well with the younger. "I mentioned that you've been sad, but I didn't mean 'sad' as in, you miss Hawkins, or your friends. I mean more so than usual."
Will scoffed. "Dunno if you've failed to notice, but El was kidnapped by government and military agents, we almost got shot to death by a SWAT team or something, and we had to cross country travel to save our friend so that she can help save the world, again, and I'm also a part of this after my first trip to the Upside Down. Being connected to Vecna isn't exactly fun or something to be happy about."
"I meant more like, around the time Mike visited." Jonathan decided to go for it. He knew that Will would keep beating around bushes until the topic was eventually exhausted. He stared, watching Will blanc. "At first I thought you were upset, because Mike only seemed to care about seeing El, that he didn't seem to pay you much mind, or seem interested in your painting. Dude totally brushed you aside, and I thought that you were upset because he was so fixated on El, and kinda ignored you, even though it'd been awhile since you guys saw each other, like you two used to back in Hawkins."
"That's not-"
"And then the conversation in the delivery van." Jonathan knew that he was being too forceful in his approach, but he was also aware that letting Will keep this to himself was not healthy. Keeping that secret until it festered, ate him up. "You lied to Mike. El didn't ask you to commission that piece."
"How would you know that?" Will glared. It was odd for him to quickly defend a lie.
Jonathan's brows arched at the daring tone, but didn't plan to match Will's accusatory mood. "Because El never knew about the Demogorgon, as in, the D&D version. The three headed dragon? That's something only you, Dustin, Lucas, myself, and Mike know about. The roles you all played, you painted them. El doesn't know about any of that, but you do, and so does Mike."
"What if Mike told El? What about that?" Will pushed, obviously upset, angry. "I mean he didn't question me in the van, so he's obviously been sharing, trying to teach her about the game."
Jonathan shrugged. "That could be a possibility too, but I doubt that. I'm sure that if El asked you to commission that piece, it wouldn't be a 3 headed dragon, it'd be the creature from the Upside Down." That seemed to get to Will, because as Jonathan waited for a retort, none came. "You painted that yourself. You made Mike the leader, the beacon, the knight with a heart. You started talking about how Mike is all about heart, about acceptance, about loving El for all her differences-"
"Jona-"
"But you weren't talking about El, were you? When you said all that stuff to cheer Mike up?" Jonathan stood up, and sat on the bed, not too close, but close enough, their eyes locked. Will's eyes were large, wet, his breathing quickening, mouth opening and closing. "Will, whatever this is, you can talk to me about it, ok? Keeping it inside, it's going to end up destroying you. It's going to tear you apart, and when the time comes to face the monsters from the Upside Down, you won't have it in you. Feeling defeated, it takes away everything, even the strength to fight, and Will?" He pauses, resting a hand on the youngers shaking shoulder. "I can't lose you, ok? I can't. So please. Tell me, what's going on?" Jonathan obviously knew, but he couldn't say it for his brother. His sibling had to admit it himself, that's how this works.
Tears began to slide down Will's cheeks, lips frowning, body shivering. His voice was soft, broken, "I... Can't." He forced out, body nearly slumping. "I can't, Jonathan- I'm too- I don't know how to." Will hunched over, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes, openly sobbing, trembling so much that it seemed like painful muscle contractions. "I can't tell him, Jonathan," He chocked out, voice groggy, in pain. "He'll hate me- I can't- They'll all push me away even more this time." He gasped, trying to control his breathing, but it seemed too difficult. "I don't want to lose my friends, but I-, I can't lose Mike. He's my best friend. I can't lose them- I can't lose him." He gasped. "I don't want them to hate me- I don't wanna be alone- I don't wanna be alone again, please, Jonathan, don't tell them- don't tell Mike, please-"
Jonathan inhaled sharply and immediately embraced his shaking brother, squeezing him tight against his own frame, hoping it would help ease the painful trembling. He felt tears fall and roll along his own cheeks. "It's ok." He whispered, trying to keep the shaking from his words. "It's ok, Will, it's ok. I'm here." It wasn't a direct confession, but it was enough. It wasn't that he needed to hear it for himself. He needed Will to release this, to acknowledge that this is a real thing, to realize that his family will love him regardless of his orientation, or at least, the ones who mattered.
"I've got you, Will." And what could he add to this? He couldn't tell him that his friends wouldn't take the news with confusion or distaste. Regardless of the situations they've all faced, who knows how one would take the news of their friend being gay? They did protect Will when bullies called Will a 'fag', they would come over and play whenever Will went to school seemingly defeated whenever his dad would call him gay with a barrage of insulting remarks, but not everyone is as accepting as they seem. He couldn't guarantee that his friends wouldn't be freaked or weirded out, and he couldn't guarantee Will that Mike wouldn't distance himself. It was difficult, and maybe Will would never tell Mike, never tell his friends, but he needs Will to acknowledge it, to say it out loud, to share the weight, before it becomes too much, before it turns to self hatred, to self destruction, to isolation. "I love you, Will, alright?" He sniffled, swallowing hard, hugging his trembling brother tighter. "Everything will be alright, ok? I'm here." He began to slightly sway their bodies from side to side, hoping this was enough. "I'm here."