Chapter Text
November 6th, 1987
Smalltown Boy - Bronski Beat
“I haven’t been entirely honest with you, Mom.” Will’s voice came out shaky, the words rushed.
Joyce’s face fell, brows knit together with worry. She rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Will, baby, whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m here, okay?”
He nodded, still visibly uncertain. Tears started to pool at the corners of his eyes. “Okay. Um, I…” his face fell into his hands, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. He didn’t look up at Joyce. He couldn’t.
“Hey, Mike,” Will heard Joyce say, quietly.
His head snapped up. Mike stood in the doorway, like a deer in the headlights, eyes fixed on Will.
“Shit. What’s wrong? What happened?” He purses his lips. “Should I… um… should I go?”
Joyce turned to Will, looked him in the eyes. She didn’t say anything, but he felt, for a moment, like he could read her mind. Do you want him here? Whatever this is, do you want Mike to know, too?
Will nodded. He turned back to Mike.
“I’m okay. You can stay, Mike.” He sniffed. “Actually, can you find Jonathan? Just Jonathan.”
Mike nodded, wordlessly, and stepped out.
Joyce rubbed Will’s shoulders reassuringly, her hands warm through his shirt. He was sweating, but still felt cold. He couldn’t stop shivering.
Within minutes, Mike came rushing back into the room, a tousled and worried looking Jonathan in tow. He ran over to Will, kneeling next to him by the couch. Mike sat, cross legged, on the floor in front of him. Will looked at them, mouth hanging open, searching for the right words. They’re right there. He knew it. He just couldn’t bring himself to say them.
Mike cleared his throat. “Would it, um, be easier if we didn’t look at you?” He cocked an eyebrow, clearly still uncertain why he was there, or why Will was so upset.
“No, no. I can do this. Sorry, you guys probably think I’m about to tell you I’m dying, or something.” He let out a weak laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood. Joyce stayed stoic, worried eyes fixed on Will.
Jonathan, though, let out a breathy laugh in return. “Thank god,” he whispered, reaching up to squeeze Will’s hand. “When Mike came out to get me he had a look on his face like you were already dead.”
“I did not,” Mike retorted, scowling at Jonathan.
“Okay.” All six eyes snapped back up to Will, listening intently. Shit. He was actually going to have to say it. Deep breath in, deep breath out. He was okay. He’d already accepted his own feelings—he knew Vecna couldn’t use them against him. Will wouldn’t let him. There was no more shame, no more anger, no more hiding from himself. He just didn’t want to have any more regrets. He knew, deep down, that the next few days were uncertain, that anything could happen.
They’d won battles in the past, but this was the war, and he was at the center of it.
He didn’t know what was going to happen, or if they’d all ever be together again after it was over. He just wanted somebody to know, somebody other than Robin, before it was too late. He didn’t want to die, he certainly didn’t want any of them to die, but even thinking about the fleeting possibility of any of that made him certain that he had to tell the truth. He couldn’t even think about letting go of any of the three most important people in his life before they fully knew him. All of him.
Breathe in, breathe out.
“I’m gay.” The words left his lips and floated in the space between the four of them like an apparition. The room was so silent that Will wasn’t sure if he’d really said them at all, or if he’d just imagined it. He kept talking. “I’ve known for a long time. I mean, you heard the things people would say about me when I was younger. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, not for a long time, because if I did, it meant they were all right about me. And I couldn’t…” he held back a sob. “I couldn’t do that to myself. I couldn’t do that to you guys.” Jonathan squeezed his hand again, and Joyce’s grip on his shoulder was firm. Mike just looked up at him with wide eyes. Will couldn’t read his expression. He didn’t want to.
“But lately,” he continued, carefully, “I realized that none of that matters. It doesn’t matter because I won’t let it. Even if you guys don’t accept me for it, even if the rest of the party doesn’t, and even if Vecna tries to use it against me…” he let out a deep sigh. “I don’t care anymore. I don’t. Because I know that there’s nothing wrong with me.” It was like a lead weight had lifted off his chest. His shoulders felt lighter, his chest felt open, his lungs finally felt full when he pulled in a deep breath of cool, sweet air. He closed his eyes. “I mean, it would crush me to lose you. Any of you. But none of us know what’s going to happen these next few days, and everything is so uncertain…” He shook his head. “I couldn’t let us go into another battle having not been fully honest with you. Even if that means things change.”
The room was quiet again. The moment stretched out in front of them, endless, anxious, hopeful.
Jonathan was the first to speak.
“Oh, Will. I love you so much.” Will looked at him, watching the tears gather on his waterline, watching the smile spread across his brother’s face. Jonathan wrapped both arms around Will’s shoulders and pulled him in.
“You’ll always be my kid. You know that, right, honey? Nothing could change that, ever.” Her voice shook, but she fought to keep it steady. “Nothing.” She pulled both of them into a hug.
After a long moment, the three of them breathing together, Will wrapped up between in their arms, they broke apart. All that was left was Mike, still sitting silently on the floor, mouth shut in a hard line, face unreadable.
He breathed in to speak.
“Yeah. We're here for you, Will.” He smiled—a small, almost undetectable movement that still managed to light up his whole face, somehow. Still, there was something deeper behind his expression, something unreadable.
Will nodded, tear streaks shining on his cheeks, a palpable expression of relief washing over him like a wave. He was okay. He was still loved. And the world hadn’t ended—not yet.