Work Text:
William shot up in bed with tears filling his eyes once again. There hadn’t been a single night in the past five days that he hadn’t had a nightmare about her. It felt like a sin to even speak of her name. She deserved so much more. No one deserved her fate, but that should never have even had the possibility of happening.
Cantrip (her real name made him want to throw up from guilt even more than her vigilante name) was his friend who asked for help, and he not only betrayed her trust, but flat out destroyed it. Not even taking into account…
William sniffled, shoving his hands into his eyes. He couldn’t handle this anymore. He couldn’t handle it to start with, but he kept seeing her every single night. She was begging and sobbing at his knees, asking for a second chance while he cuts off her head with an axe. Or she was screaming at him and tearing him to shreds while he stood there just taking it. Or she just stared at him sadly. He wasn’t sure which hurt more.
Her twin made an appearance in this dream. He forgot that she even had a twin. And Ruby was sobbing with such strength that she couldn’t stop the painful cough accompanying her wails.
Their names matched.
William held a hand over his mouth, trying to make sure that no one heard him. He couldn’t stop his tears. There was no point in it. She was dead, it was his fault, he trusted her kidnapper more than he trusted her.
He took in a squeaking breath, quietly sobbing. He bit into the meat of his palm, needing to feel the pain. He dug the nails on his other hand into his thigh, pinching it. He could see the indents, even through the blur of his tears. He kept pinching and squeezing and burying his nails in his flesh until it felt raw, then kept going. He had to atone. He had to be better. He needed to feel even a fraction of the pain that he had caused.
William’s phone screen lit up. He took a glance over and could barely read it. It was just a notification to collect gems in a random game he downloaded at Tide’s a while back.
Tide.
William’s chest froze. He couldn’t feel a thing. The pain in his leg felt distant and the pain in his chest was not his own.
Tide…
William picked up his phone, tears still streaming down his cheeks. They forced his cheeks to a blotchy rose color. He sniffled more as he swiped through apps until he found the contact menu. He was so used to just texting that he didn’t have the contacts on his main screen. He didn’t see a use. (He did now that he had scrolled by it two different times because he couldn’t read the app names.)
He tapped it and found Tide at the top of his favorites list. William closed his eyes and he took a very shaky breath.
He looked at the contact. He was smiling so widely in this picture, his brown-to-blue locs recently dyed again to keep the blue ombre. He would have no idea how awful he was to her. How badly he hurt her.
William hit the call button, ready to whisper as quietly as he could into the receiver.
He waited with bated breath. One ring. Then another ring. Another. Another. Finally, the rings stopped and a familiar voice answered the phone.
“William?”
He sounded so tired. He woke Tide up. He hurt Tide too. He could have killed him. Will didn’t know why he was the first choice he thought of to tell about this.
He felt his heart speed up scarily (like he was having the heart attack instead). His jaw was shaky, and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to tell Tide about the nightmares that he caused.
“Will? It’s 4 in the morning,” Tide sleepily said, “I know the 1am-7am rules were set in place when I was doing hero work and couldn’t be up all night, but-
Will couldn’t hold back the sob that built in his chest. It burst free, like a dam that couldn’t hold the massive pressure behind it. He wheezed into the microphone, unable to catch a breath.
“Oh!” Tide startled, much more awake now, “William, what’s wrong?”
He started to bite his hand again, not wanting to wake Vyncent or Dakota. He shook uncontrollably in his bed, making it creak with every movement. He wanted to throw up. He didn’t know why he called Tide. He was going to have to tell him so much. Tide almost died because of him. She did die. He hurt so many people irreparably.
“I j–” William was cut off by a heart-crushing sob– “I- I just…” He sniffled, attempting to shield the microphone.
“Will, can you take a deep breath?” Tide reassured. He didn’t know just how evil he was yet. He shouldn’t have accepted his kind advice, because no one should be kind to him. People that do will get hurt in the end. It’s just a fact of life. William hurts everyone, and the people that try to be nice will get hurt the worst.
He took a deep breath anyway. He needed to make sure Tide knew how horrible he was. That he was irredeemable. Tide had to know about it. He couldn’t lie again, he couldn’t lie again.
“Okay, nice job William,” Tide consoled. William bit out a hoarse sob. He wanted to just hang up and pretend that nothing ever happened. To hide away under his blankets and cry into his sheets like he had every night prior. To exist within the barriers of his own brain and not force it onto anyone else. To keep his sins away from those that they would harm.
But of course, even if he hung up, Tide would call right back. Tide wouldn’t be able to sleep at all the rest of the night if he hung up and refused to answer again. He’d race to the Winnebago if he even thought that William was a danger to himself (but he’s a danger to others, which overrides even needing to worry about that).
William simply made a soft noise of agreement into the phone, unable to open his mouth without more cries leaving.
“Do you want to text what’s wrong?”
Will whined into the phone, unable to give any sort of meaningful response. He shouldn’t be this upset. He did it on purpose. He did everything on purpose. Only now, after consequences were dealt out, did he feel bad. During, he felt powerful. He had to do what he had to do. And now he just wished that he could kill his past self. Is that a form of suicidal ideation? Killing your past self?
He shouldn’t have ever done those things, and if he were dead, he wouldn’t have.
Well. Dead to the spirit world, dead. He was already dead as is. And god, if that didn’t make everything feel worse. He forced Cantrip (her name still tasted like a bitter lemon) to die, to become like him, when he wanted nothing more than be able to feel and live again.
“Will?” Tide asked again.
William managed to whimper out the word, “phone,” before his throat closed on him again. He rubbed his hand harshly on his face.
“I ‘illed ‘omeone,” he quietly wailed, breathy sobs distorting his words so that they were barely intelligible, even to himself. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to say it again if Tide didn’t understand him.
He’d force himself to even if it killed him. One less killer in the world. And if he does it himself? No more added either.
“You… killed someone?” Tide asked, clearly not understanding the gravity of the situation, “What do you mean, William?”
He couldn’t say anything through the clot of lies and disgust in his throat. He would taint Tide. He would destroy Vyncent and Dakota and Ashe and everyone else he claimed to love on any basis. The only reason he couldn’t do the same to his mother and father was that his brother already existed. He did bad shit, but he did something worse. He killed so many people and took no responsibility. He didn’t even feel the bodies on his shoulders every single waking hour. He didn’t even feel the blood underneath his finger nails, the kind that could never wash away.
Will swallowed a large gulp of air, attempting to breathe just a little bit more, something to help him tell Tide that he should hate him now. He covered his mouth again as he couldn’t suppress a loud sob.
“Killed…” Will bawled into the phone falling back into his very young stutter habits, supposedly fixed with enough effort. “Smoke, an’, an’, an’ C–” his voice broke into dust trying to say her name. Not even her name. He would slit his throat before saying that to anyone. She trusted him with that. She trusted him. She trusted him. She trusted him.
William wailed shakily, unable to bring his hand to his mouth. “Hate it. I hate it,” he cried.
“Will, do you want me to come get you?”
His heart stopped the second he knew what Tide would say. “No, no, no, no, no, no. No, no, no, please, no, please don’t come, please, I– please.” William's shattered voice could barely mutter, accompanying his shattered self that needed to know that Tide would be safe from him. His mind kept migrating to her, but Tide was just as in danger as she was. She was young and naive and nowhere close to weak, while Tide was knowledgeable about the heroes of this world and how the villains preferred to act.
“Kill you ‘n kill’ her ‘n I– I don’t know.”
“Do you think you could wake up one of the other two to help?”
He whined in fear. They couldn’t know about him. They shouldn’t. They shouldn’t have to help a monster. He was worse than every movie they ever watched about monsters together. The monsters are either good in the end, or they die. No real monster lives to the end.
“Take another breath, William. It will be alright.”
He couldn’t help whining a plea against it. He didn’t want to breath and be awake for this. He should, he should be awake and alive to make up for everything that he’s done wrong. And it won’t be alright. It will never be alright. And it won’t be ever again.
“Could’ve killed you,” he weeped. He roughly wiped at his eyes, only making them more irritated. He was wheezing, trying to be quiet, so clearly failing. The only reason he wasn’t poked at by Dakota or questioned by Vyncent was that they slept heavy and hard if they did a lot of work the day before (Vyncent) or just in general (Dakota).
“Killed me?” Tide asked, unknowingly. He didn’t know. How would he. He took it away the same way that he could have killed him.
“Real, it’s real, please, I’m so- sorry, Tide. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Will sobbed, “It’s my fa-ult, it’s- it.” He couldn’t finish his sentence through the wails. He was such a coward. Can’t even say what he wanted to because he’s too upset. He shouldn’t even be upset. It was his fault entirely.
“No, William, it was just a dream–”
“No, it wasn’t Tide!” Will whispered with more force than ever into his phone. His tears stuck to every word, but he managed to push through each of them. Tide couldn’t leave this call without knowing how awful he was. “It wasn’t,” he cried into his hands.
“Can you explain it to me?”
William was silent, crying into his hands, biting his palm, clawing his thigh again. If Tide were next to him, he would take his hand that dug into his leg and guide it to his own gentle hold.
High pitched and pathetic, William whimpered, “mhm,” quietly.
William’s lips trembled and jaw shook. He nearly bit his tongue a few times already, but this was what he was waiting for. He should tell Tide. He had to tell Tide. He couldn’t not tell Tide.
“With my– with David. Um, shit,” William wheezed, “He had some stuff. He- h- h- he- he- fuck, can I just not be worthless fo- f- f- for once in my fucking life.”
Tide sighed sadly. He shouldn’t be sad right now. He should be disappointed, if not furious with him. “You aren’t worthless. And if this is about the stutter, it’s fine. I know that it can get worse for you when you are anxious. Even if it is something that you don’t like about yourself, it’s a completely normal thing for people to do.”
William bit his lip, making the pain something to focus on so that he wouldn’t start sobbing so hard that he would throw up. He sniffled, teeth digging into his bottom lip, rolling it around, making it sore, making it hurt.
“Uh… okay,” he breathed shallowly. He stared at his phone. It was bright in a sea of nothing. Every light was off. The nightlight burned out a month ago. No one remembered to buy a new one. It was just him and his phone and his crimes.
William’s face felt completely raw from the tears. He sucked in another breath before starting again, “Medicine. Alan—” his voice broke almost immediately— “hurt, killed people. He didn't mean to. He doesn't… get it.
“He wanted him and took them and…” William sniffled roughly.
“Who?”
“David. Alan and—” Oh god they weren't his friends. Who were they to him? People he knew? Vigilantes? Xavier hated him now. She was dead and hated him too— “some people I knew.”
“Okay.” Tide was barely speaking now. Was it because he knew how awful he was without even hearing the worst part? He had to have. He wouldn't speak willfully with a villain.
“Pieces of Alan… for it. And he- I- You were- um. Wanted me to help.
“‘N I did. They were chained and- and- and asked f’r help. Hurt ‘em… Hurt you,” Will weeped. His throat stung and aches with every sound out of his mouth. The spines on every word stabbed him.
“Told me- told me that I could—” William sobbed loudly— “I could make you forget. I didn't want you to know. I didn't want you to hate me. But you should know because you should. You should,” he laughed because his body really couldn't do anything else, “You should…”
Hesitantly, Tide asked, “Forget what?”
“Everything,” he blurted out instantly, “Alan and the cutting and the surgery and the hurting him and me doing it and David— it's always fucking David.
“And you looked so fucking sad, Tide,” he bawled “You were so shocked and I felt so fucking awful. Giving you the— whatever the hell it was. Wasn't fucking medicine. Didn't test it or whatever. Or he just didn't fucking care. He doesn't care he never fucking cared and he never fucking will.”
He took a gasping breath. “Didn't tell me what it could do. He didn't. I wouldn't have done it if I knew. I’m so fucking sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, fuck I'm so- so- sorry.”
“This is a bit… worrying, William. What are you talking about?”
He could barely say it. It felt real. It was real. His voice betrayed him, but he knew a few things about betrayals, so he forced his way through. It didn't stop his voice from being so weak that he could barely hear it though.
“It could have killed you.”
“What?”
“She had a bad heart and it did— fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, oh God. Xavier and Alan too. Only her, but it was her,” he wailed.
“Did she…” Tide paused, letting his sins sink in, “die?”
And Will just sobbed. He couldn't do anything else. He dropped his phone and sobbed into his hands. He was going to throw up. He was going to have a heart attack. She was dead and he killed her and he didn't know until she was already gone. Taken care of. Those words haunted him every second of the day. They followed him like a mosquito, draining him of everything.
He whined, praying to God that Tide could tell what this sound meant.
“I’m… I'm so sorry, Will.”
He wanted to die. “No. Don't. No, no, no.”
“Will—”
“No!” he quietly screeched, “I didn't want anyone to know and now she's dead and I did it and I don't know where her body is and she's gone.”
“With what you said, it doesn't sound like your fault.”
“It was. It was, it was, it was—”
“William.”
He stopped speaking immediately, letting the tears roll down his face indiscriminately.
“You said you wouldn't have done it if you had known what would happen.” Tide stopped. William made a small sound of agreement.
“And David didn't say that this could happen?”
William whined pitifully. Technically he just said it would make them forget the day. But he should have known there was some caveat. He should have known it was too good to be true in some way.
“Then that means you didn't have enough information for it to be your fault.”
He pulled at his hair, whining and wallowing. He couldn't be here, he didn't understand. He didn't know, but he still did it. He still stabbed her. He still let her die. He still made Xavier see his friends die in front of him. He was evil in every sense of the word.
“We should talk about this more when you are less upset, but it wasn't your fault.”
He quietly wailed.
“I love you, William.”
He couldn't hold back his sobs. It was too much. It always had been, it was worse now. He knew and he didn't believe him. It was his fault and he’d prove it. Intent doesn't mean anything. She died because of him. And that's the end of her story. And it should be the end of his.
“I'm not hanging up until you say it back.”
He sniffled, words once again so choked up and broken that they could barely be recognized, “Love you, Tide.”
“I love you, William. Please stay safe. You should probably wake up Vyncent and Dakota.”
“Mhm.”
“Okay. Breathe through it. It's hard, but I believe in you. Good night.”
And within a few seconds, Tide hung up the phone.
It was silent, and he felt everything weighing on him twice as much as before. He couldn't stop crying. It was silent. He hiccuped inconsistently. She should still be here.