Chapter Text
As Will dragged himself out of his bed, he felt an intense sense of dread settling over him. Today was the day. Today, he would be running 88km to Brighton. Today, Will would almost double the distance he ran yesterday. He was going to run all the way to his best friend, James Marriott.
Will listened to his crew setting up around him, and he thoroughly stretched his sore muscles. He just had to hope that the run yesterday—64km—didn’t affect him too much today. He felt anxiety curling around his ribs, and he forced himself to take deep breaths through his nose. “Ready, Will?” Mikey questioned from the side. God fucking damnit.
“Yeah, mate. Gotta just get to it, need all the time I can get, eh?” Will muttered. He heard his friends hesitantly agree with him. He knew their concerns. He knew that they were all extremely worried that he would push himself past his limits today, both physically and mentally. But, he has to do this. He has to prove that he can do it. He can do whatever he puts his mind to; his body will not hinder him.
The crew had already set up all of the cameras, so all they were waiting for was Will. He stood still and let Ieuan take a short clip of him in the dark, and then he took a deep breath before he began. “Today, a bit of an anti-climax. I’m just running 10km then I just do another one. Do that nine times, and we’re there.” He allowed himself a short glance around at his friends. They were a bit more relaxed than they had been before they started filming, but he could tell they were all still very nervous for Will. He looks back into the camera lens, “Let’s run to Brighton.” Ieuan stopped the recording quickly, and Will relaxed slightly. He took another deep breath.
He took a big drink out of a water bottle one of his friends passed to him before he bounced on his toes. “Okay, it’s time to go,” Will muttered to himself. He lined himself up at the red line, and he felt fear creeping up in his chest. There was no going back. Once he started, he would either run 88km or he would fail, and Will couldn’t fail.
Will took the first step forward, and then it was official. The beginning of the run was fairly anticlimactic if Will was entirely honest. He had sort of thought that something would feel different, but it didn’t. It felt just the same as if he was running down the block which at the end of the day, makes sense.
He could feel a slight tinge of soreness in his calves from yesterday, but it wasn’t long until it was gone—melted away as his muscles warmed completely. However, he knew it wouldn’t be long until pain took its place, but at the moment, he was feeling okay. And, he kept feeling good throughout the first 10km. He was able to watch as the sun rose. He played some hype music, and he felt good. One done. Eight to go.
The next 10km felt very similar to the first. There was no more pretty sunrise to focus on, so Will began to retreat into his head. He focused intently on his music and not the running itself. He could already feel pokes of pain along the insides of his knees and sides of his ankles, which was not a good sign so early into the run.
Toward the end of the chunk of 10km, James had sent him a short text simply wishing him luck, and it had made Will’s chest warm. He smiled to himself as he sent a short message in response, promising to see James soon. It kept Will’s reason for this run in the forefront of his mind as he completed the second 10km. Only seven more to go.
Then the terrain changed, and he could feel the uneven, grassy path impacting his legs. The pain was starting to flare slightly, nothing too extreme, just definitely noticeable. This early, anything unpleasant was sure to spiral into something terrible. It did nothing to lessen the dread still stuck in Will’s chest.
It turned more unpleasant as he began going downhill, putting all his weight into the fronts of his knees. He grimaced and slowed slightly. He complained briefly to his friends and their cameras about missing Mikey—who had annoyed him thoroughly the days before—and suddenly, he was there. And Will felt a sort of relief come over him as he chatted briefly with Mikey; right, he wasn’t doing this entirely alone. His friends and the crew were right there, but at the end of the day, this was still his accomplishment. He was the one running. This would be his, alone. That felt great.
Will felt better even after Mikey left his side. Just being reminded that he had people looking out for him was needed; he didn’t realize just how much he needed to be reminded until the weight lifted from his shoulders. Soon enough he was done with 30km. He was definitely feeling it, but only six more 10km chunks left. He’s got it.
The terrain leveled out slightly for his fourth chunk, which was a relief. It allowed Will to get through most of the run without being in too much pain. He could feel it building, but it was not becoming too bad yet. He still felt good. He was going to make it. He was going to run 88km to James Marriott.
Four chunks down. Five more to go.
The pain started to become very apparent during his fifth chunk. It was becoming more than little stabs of pain. It was getting more consistent. Nothing Will couldn’t handle, but it wasn’t the best news. However, the pain getting worse wasn’t the only problem. Will could feel his anxiety worsening as the day went on. The closer he got to the 64km he had run the day before, the more scared he was feeling. He still had a ways to go, but he knew without a doubt he could make it to 64km. After that, well, he wasn’t too sure. He wouldn’t give up, but his body might. Soon enough, the fifth chunk was completed, and he still had four more to go.
The anxiety was just worsening. His chest began feeling heavy in a way that had nothing to do with his stamina. It was getting farther into the afternoon, and it was beginning to dawn on him that there was a chance that he could be unsuccessful today without any part of him giving up. He could just not make it in time. That certainly wasn’t helping his brain at all. Neither was the fact that he was getting closer and closer to his previous stopping point, and his pain was no better than it had been yesterday. Doubts were beginning to plague his mind, but he was going to do this. He had to. What would he do if he failed? Six done. Just three left.
Then suddenly, 64km were done. And his legs were not great. He felt his energy draining, and some of his hope was going with it. He knew with all his heart that if he finished the 88km, it would be from pure willpower alone. His body was already expressing its desire to quit, but he was not having it. And so he kept running. One foot in front of the other. He couldn’t think of much else by that point. He felt his pace slowing, but his energy didn’t allow him to speed up any. The pounding anxiety in his chest at not finishing in time was not acting as motivation instead it was just making his run that much more difficult. Only choking him in fear.
The crew fed him. They had been the whole time, but it wasn’t enough to help anymore. He felt depleted of most of his energy, and he still had so much left to go. None of his music could help him tune out the pain in his body anymore. The anxiety in his chest was just becoming stronger and stronger, and altogether, Will was beginning to feel like complete shit. But, he completed 70km, he only had 18km left. Two more 10km chunks.
They gave him a quick calve massage, but Will’s mind wasn't there. He was able to pick his energy up just enough to film a joking clip with Mikey, but it took so much effort. He wasn’t sure he could do it again. The sun was setting, and with it went any and all social energy left in Will. He didn’t want to talk to anyone around him, and he brushed off any of their concerned whispers. He needed to focus. His chest was tight, and he felt his thoughts running too quickly through his head. The only thing keeping him tied to the moment was the extreme pain shooting up his legs every time they hit the ground.
He understood why the doctors were all so concerned. He could feel the ways in which his legs could easily be damaged. The spots where the pain was the worst. It felt as if his legs were hinting at him to stop, giving him a taste of what might happen if he didn’t.
But Will didn’t. He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. To stop meant that his body had power over him—over his mind. Will had spent so long worried about his body giving out and having a seizure randomly and having no control over it. He had worked so hard to get out there and do whatever was freaking him out, every single time. And every single time, he did it; he proved to himself that he had control over himself, his body, his life. He needed to finish this run because he needed to prove to himself that he was strong enough—that his mind was strong enough to withstand anything. He needed to prove that his body would never and could never limit the things that he did. And under all that, maybe he needed to prove that he could do things that intimidated him. The things that scared him more than anything else.
Will barely noticed as he completed 80km. His watch notified him, and he felt a wave of relief flood through him. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was long enough that he could focus back to the crew following close behind him. He knew they were worried. He slowed, and he drank water. He talked to his friends and crew, and he also filmed a little bit about how he was feeling at the moment for his video, which he had momentarily forgotten about. Then he took a few deep breaths, and he locked back in. But not before sending a quick message to James. ‘Only 8km left. See you soon.’
He had less than a chunk left, less than 10km.
He had briefly hoped that being so close would make the pain more bearable, but he thinks it has just made it worse. Every step was almost excruciating. His pace had slowed even more, and he was so exhausted. But he was so close, and all that anxiety of not finishing was lessening. He would get there. He knew in his bones that there was no way that he was not finishing the entire 88km. He would be getting to James.
James Marriott. He hadn’t thought too much about actually seeing James at the end of this whole journey, but now that he was almost done, it was all that he could think about. James knew about the video; he had been just as concerned as the rest of them about Will’s health. Despite that, James had expressed how grateful and touched he was by the sentiment that Will would run this far just to have a coffee with James. And for once, Will didn’t diminish it because the fact that it was James was one of the main reasons that Will did this.
They had been so busy leading up to this that they hadn’t seen each other in much longer than Will was used to. He had loved their routine of going to the nearby coffee shops; he had loved being able to know that he’d see James soon for more than just work. James moving to Brighton had caused WIll a lot of anxiety in that way. He was worried that their friendship would begin to dwindle, and Will didn’t think he could handle that.
James was different from most of Will’s other friends; up until recently, Will couldn’t understand why. Will cared about James in a way that was completely foreign. It was so much deeper, and it mattered so much more to Will. It scared Will to death that he may lose such a unique connection with James. That fear was what spurred this run. It was what made him run 88km just to have a coffee. He needed some way to prove both to himself and to James how much he cared about their friendship—how much effort he would put into ensuring it does not fall through.
That anxiety also led to Will looking deeper at him and James’s friendship. He wanted to know why James was so much different than Will’s other friends, and he didn't find the answer for quite a while. It's possible he didn’t really want to find it at first. But now he knew. Now he knew, and it was causing his heart to pound against his ribs as he saw the coffee shop enter his field of view.
Will could feel his legs practically shaking under him. Every step felt like he was being electrocuted, but he had almost done it. The closer he got, the shakier he felt. His hands were shaking despite being squeezed into tight fists, and his chest simultaneously felt the heaviest it had ever felt and the lightest.
He grimaced as he took the final steps toward the coffee shop, and he could’ve cried as he saw James step into view through the door. A smile grew on his face, and he felt pure joy and relief as he crossed into the warm coffee shop. He cheered and fell into James’s chest, hugging him tightly. He had done it. He had run 88km from London to Brighton. He had put his mind on it, and his body had done it. He was with James once more.
The smell of James made Will’s heart flutter. He barely noticed the awkward pats he received from James—he was covered in layers of sweat afterall. When he pulled back, he felt his knees beginning to give out, and he quickly sat himself down in the closest seat. James took the seat across from him.
Will cheered once more at the fact that he had done it, and when he made eye contact with James, he heart leaped. James was looking at him the way that always gets clipped from all their videos. His eyes, soft and attentive. “You wouldn’t believe the day that I’ve just had.” Raw laughter ripped out of Will's throat, and he felt joy race through his veins.