Chapter Text
It was 2 am.
Not anything exciting, of course; not too late. Lucas sat on the sofa in his tiny living room, brooding with a book in hand. He didn't typically read but Will had recommend him some novella about a guy who hunts down mythical creatures. He called it "interactive" and like the narrative was "reaching out for the audience to listen" so Lucas thought he could dabble with it while he waited. It was 2 am. They should've been home by now.
Well, not really. But still.
Lately, Max and Will had decided (more like Max had dragged Will along) to go out and “live life”, as she called it. Which entailed putting on their best, club going clothes and finding the nearest frat party to crash. In the beginning, Will didn't want to go but after that first night? Lets just say that he became an unstoppable force, only rivaled by Max herself. While Will wasn't very loud, or popular or even good at letting loose, riddled with anxiety, if you got him under some dim lighting, a loudass song blasting off suspicious looking speakers, he transformed. And, well Lucas liked to think that Will relished this new found alter ego and the confidence that came with it. He was even initialing a lot of Max and his little late night hangouts, which left Lucas sitting in their shared college apartment, small and somewhat cramped as it is, to wait for Max to come home with Will on her shoulders, white girl wasted, smile subtly telling of whatever eventful time they had reluctantly escaped from.
This time was no different. However, it was 2 am already and not a call had been heard from either of the two party goers. But at least it wasn't 6 am. It sends chills down his spine just to think of it: for Lucas, that night was hell incarnate. He hates reminiscing the details but his mind involuntarily flashed bits and pieces at times like this: Max's messed up contacts, the room so far from dim it was pure darkness itself, broken back up glasses, girls clinging to biceps that struggled to be released and god that man's hands on her waist-
It made Lucas’ blood boil.
But it was only 2 am. Not 6.
So he sat still and patiently and lovingly waited for his phone to ring with whichever wonderful voice it was for today to tell him that they were on the way, just leaving, or, while it made him weary, needing to be picked up. They had said before that they were capable of getting home perfectly fine by themselves but sometimes they just had “too much fun” and could barely press the dial button to phone him. So, he'd race himself to a different location from the last and softly place them in the backseat with blankets and water and whatever else they'd need (that was always in the trunk, just in case waiting for them) because that's what Lucas Sinclair does: he protects and he cares. And he's always there.
Though Lucas Sinclair was surely getting worried as the clock ticked to 2:27 am, the minutes clicking by at a disgustingly fast rate. Just as he sat up straighter, preparing to get up and do something- anything- else, his phone rang. The tune of a call floated to his ears and he reached with the speed of an Olympian to answer the call.
“Lucas Sinclair speaking, please be-”
“Heyyyy, Lucas!” And there it was the voice like gold, dripping with something akin to mimosas, like pure bliss injected into his veins. Max had finally called.
“Oh my god Max, thank god. What's up, are you on the way back? Do you need-”
He was cut off by Will's voice in the background, slurry and hushed yet eager. “Is that Lucas?”
“Yes, Will? Oh god, Max he sounds like he might be-
“Heyy,” Max again, chippy with a sarcastic lit, "We need a ride, he's NOOOOOt…”
Lucas had already got up, grabbed his keys, and opened the door by the time she finished her third “hey”, and as he tip toed as to not alert any other occupants, or, god forbid, the RA, he pushed for her to continue, “Is he ok? What does he need?”
“Oh? What?” She paused. “Oh yea, he said he could down 2 mimosas and an espresso shot but I knew he couldn't but he did it anyway so here we are-” a “bleeh” was heard in the back, “here he is, barfing in a toilet, but he’ll be fine when it gets out of his system. He might've drank too much- I mean eaten too much” she giggled, a sound somewhat foreign with Lucas not by her side, “so we need a ride, Lucas. Hehe, I drank 2 mimosas and 3 shots, so I beat Will but that damn dumbass jock-”
Lucas was stunned, if only for a moment, when he started his engine, “Wait, 3 shots and 2 mimosas? Max, that's vile.”
She laughed again then huffed, like new weight was added to her shoulders, “No, it's a record. Anyways- oh, Will step here -anyways, come by here, please, please, we miss you!! Love you, nerd! Bye!!”
“Wait, Max! I don't know where-” and again, he was cut off. He pressed his head to the steering wheel about to call back, though she probably wouldn't answer if she's holding Will, when he felt a buzz in his hand. It was sloppy texting, barely able to be deciphered but there in the middle of the hearts and babble was an address. He pulled his car out of park and headed there for a purpose. Thank God it was only a few minutes away, but through sheer will, he’d make it 10 (or, by miracle, 6) if he was lucky.
So there Lucas was (after a 7 minute drive, ideal but he knew he could do better), in a bustling party, girls bumping in to him and random guys giving him high fives or slaps on his back. A little "Hey, you do football?" or a "Bro, join our basketball team, we need a guy like you!" passing him by every so often as he journeyed the house for his main priority. Though, he did grab a water on his way through. Maybe not his best idea, it could've been spiked but it wasn't opened and the atmosphere was starting to get to him. Without Max by his side, parties were always far too loud and far too cramped. God, what he wouldn't give to just be laying back on his couch, arms wrapped around the girl of his dreams, the one he had managed to get through pure luck (in his head), legs spread out with Will quietly yapping to them about something or another, just hearing the low thump of his voice as they all fall into a soothing rhythm, sleep finding it's way inside their hearts.
But no, he had got the call and was now searching for that peace that he hoped to achieve once they made it back. Lucas' eyes were tired by now and warm from the sheer amount of bodies in the vicinity. Hell, he had a 7 am class this morning and here he was at basically 4 am (technically the next day) at some Chad, Ched, or Brad or whatever-dumbass-name's house, scouring the crowd. Just for a peep of red or the top of some frolicky licks of brown, and the longer his eyes flicked back and forth, the more scared he got. He was always like this, every time he had to pick them up. They could never be in some easy to spot place: the middle of a dance floor, by the food stand, hell by the door if Lady Luck was ever on his side. But no. Lady Luck hates his fucking guts, apparently, and they were always in a room, 2 floors down, in a bathroom, 3 floors up, max's arm around Will as they lazed through a basement kitchen, never in eyesight. Lucas was beginning to reach for his phone again, knowing in the pits of his stomach that if Will was so out of it they couldn't catch a ride themselves, then Max wasn't going to pick up her phone, drunkenly focused on getting Will out of whatever haze he was happily in. Yet, he still grabbed it, unlocked his phone and just as he was about to press the call button, he spotted her- a flash of red and a voice. Then brown, beautiful hair poking above it all, through an open door.
Lucas sighed, a single tear slipping down his face. Damn, this was really starting the feel like that 6 am party. he thought, pushing some guy out of his way to march towards Max and Will. Funnily enough, they were cuddled together on a couch that was tucked into the corner of a room on floor 3 of Lucas' search. Exactly the type of place he'd think to find them except the room itself was basically empty. Only 7 maybe 9 other people in there besides them.
He approached them quickly, resting his hand on Will's shoulder. "Hey." he smiled. The wasted boy simply replied with a loopy grin and half closed eyes. Max chuckled, standing up as Lucas hoisted his other side. “Let’s get you guys home.”
The trio began their descend to the main floor, avoiding the slightly weird looks, some of then even marked with a hint of concern, making it all the way to the door before a buff guy holding a solo cup stopped them.
He did a little grin, chuckling to himself, “Hey guys, leaving? Why so soon?”
Lucas tensed his shoulders, a familiar feeling of apprehension crawling up his spine. He gritted his teeth, opened his mouth and right as he went to speak, felt a hand soft against his back. Max smiled at him, tapping right between his shoulder blades; just light enough to shock him back to reality, to let him know it'd all be fine.
She gave a half-hearted smirk as she said, “Yea this party is a total trash hole. What? Are you the fuckass host or something?”
“Yeah, what if I am?”
“And what if I told you the vibes were shit?”
The jock huffed a laugh, “Damn, shooting the party and leaving early? Should I retire from party hosting?”
“Well, fuck, if attendees can’t even leave? Hell yea, dumbass,” then Max squinted her eyes, cocked her head to the side and asked, “Hey wait a minute, are you the one who drank 4 beers and 5 mimosas? From the bar? Cause, now that I'm getting a good look at you, something about shitty ass drinking skills is coming to mind.”
The jocks threw his head back and laughed, gripping his cups a bit harder, “You've got spunk. Are you the girl I won against in that drinking game?” he tilted his head a bit before gesturing towards her.
“Won’ is a very objective term. I'd say it was only the first round.”
“Dude, that's a crazy first round. You were a monster at the bar.” He looked at Lucas, who was getting more and more annoyed by the mere presence of this frat guy, saying to him, “This your girl?”
Lucas glared, projecting his voice loudly over the music, “Hell yeah, she is.”
“Damn, what a catch! She's invited here anytime, bro. Same as your wasted friend there. They know how to light a party up! Anytime you wanna hang, just call up ole Carlton. Heh, that's me.” The jock, Carlton, stepped to the side, and opened the door, “Sorry, standard protocol here at Sigma Alpha Sigma Frat. Gotta check in with everyone before they leave. Can't have our rocking party hosting skills being doubted.”
Lucas straightened his back, pushing Will up a little further, a little more comfortable for the both of them, “Yeah, no, I…understand…?”
Carlton sighed, something related to relief as he patted Lucas’ back, “Thanks, bro. You guys get home safe. Make sure these party animals get some water and a good night's sleep, yeah?”
Max snickered as Lucas and her moved forward. “Uh yeah,” Lucas responded, “Will do.”
It took a minute to get to the car because the frat house was on this weird part of a cul-de-sac at the university, where, right about when you'd think you could turn around, the corner was far too tight. So Lucas had to park two blocks down, also because this area was disgustingly packed with vehicles of all makes, models and expenses. He could barely even get his far away land parking spot, and almost reverted to just leaving his car in the lawn of some sorority girls guest house but knew that'd be a bit much, even in his rushed state.
“Did you even try to get a closer spot?” Max commented when they finally reached his beetle of a car.
“For your information, sweetheart, this was the only damn spot I could get under short notice.” Lucas mumbled, opening the door for her to plop into the back. She sprawled along the seat, arms ready to receive the now slight unconscious Will. Gently, Lucas slid him into her embrace, before heading to the trunk to get out blankets.
Will had always hated the cold, ever since he came back from the Upside Down. Something about the chill down his spine bringing forth a sort of gripping torment that he'd rather not revisit. Then, Max had spoken about how, even in the desert inside of Vecna's mind, even through the heaters in the hospital, she had always felt anything but heat. Not an ounce of warmth beside Lucas’ hands on her, steadying her mind as she battled against Vecna's. He was her sun, in times of darkness.
So the heated blanket in his trunk, neatly folded and washed twice, weekly, was a must, a need not a want, in these situations.
“Here you are,” he brought it to them calmly, tucking it in all the right places, and handing Max two bottles of water. “Drink up. And, you know, let him know-”
“When he wakes up, yeah. I know.”
Lucas softly grinned, “Yes, right. Ok, time to go.” He climbed into the front, starting the car with a click. The pull out of the street was peaceful, and the ride back to their campus apartment was full of content.
Oh, but getting to the room itself? That was hell. That was a special ring of inferno. Lucas had had it up to here with their RA. He always chose the worst, absolutely diabolical moments to be on watch for students sneaking out past curfew. Yes, the curfew was 2 am but that's not the point, cause if you're going out, why be back before 2? That's what Max always said and why she took every chance possible to make fun of him. Then, on top of everything the RA somewhat hates their guts because of Max and her subtly bullying. He was always taking 2, 3, even 4 loops around their apartment building to see if he could catch them coming back late on the weekends. It was exhausting, especially when he’d knock on their door in the morning and insists on all members to be visible, yapping about how he’s sure one of them is missing, out late partying. They were always all home, too, so it was extra annoying and overly infuriating.
And there he was, Mr. Matthew Kyle McCormick, taking his excessive rounds in front of their door.
“Shit.” Max breathed out when she spotted him, “Mr. You-Shall-Not-Pass is blocking our clear shot in.”
Will, a whole lot more awake than before yet still a little out of it, rolled his eyes. “Ok, that was a little corny. But yeah, we’ve got a real bad problem on our hands. Should we…”
“Go around back, yeah. Lucas?”
The two turned around, spring him already making his way towards their homemade secret door. “I’m on it.” Once he was fully around on the back of the building, he raised his hands to his face and made a quiet bird call, barely to be heard by anyone more than a few feet away from them, and if it was, they wouldn’t have assumed it was anything other than a native animal out for a late night flight.
“Damn, you’ve gotten real good at that, huh.” Max exclaimed.
“Yeah, I mean, I had to. You know she only responds to quality.”
Just as he said that, a creak was heard above them. A young woman with spiky , jet black hair, maybe about 23, wearing a black night gown, had opened her window. “Who haste disturbed my nightly reading.”
“Nightly?” Willed asked, chuckling, "Are you sure it's not a constant-"
“Oh, haste thou," she cut him off with a tsk, "Another call for assistance, I deem?”
Lucas stepped closer, “Why, yes, of course. Please, let down thoust…ladder.” He giggled at the silliness of the situation. But, Veronica, their upstairs neighbor, is always the one to go to when in need of help escaping Matthew.
She let down the ladder, huffing and puffing about how they really need to get their life together and find another neighbor who was an insomniac but ultimately still got all of them up. As they traversed through her room, which was dimmish, with a few weird and strangely detailed skeleton photos hanging up on the wall (one that gains a new participant in the collection every time they enter), and passed her canopy bed, they all began to truly feel the length or their respective days. By the time they reached the door to their apartment, Max had yawned 10 times and Will had almost collapsed from the weight of his eyes. Lucas put his key into the hole sleepily, practically dropped it on the floor as he walked in, and headed straight for the kitchen. The quicker he got Max her third bottle of water and Will his tea, the quicker they could all go to sleep.
Max made her way to her and Lucas' shared room with Will following close behind, the pair far to tired to realize the mishap. After the drinks had been collected, Lucas found Max on the bed, the side closest to the door, leg raised ever so slightly in the air, fast asleep. Yet Will was not their will her. He sat on the floor, closer to the window, staring out longingly. Lucas set Max's water down on her side, and made his way over to Will.
When Lucas had got to him, he realized Will had this sort of dull gaze. He vision seemed out of focus as if he wasn't really here, instead in some far of place inside his mind, plagued with thoughts Lucas may neve know of. He sat on the edge of the bed, a hand landing on Wills head. He looked up, a silver of a tear falling from his face.
As Lucas wiped it away with his thumb, he cradled Will's face, speaking gently, "Hey, what's up? Want to talk about it?"
Will let out a humorless laugh, in between a half sigh and a heartless snort, "Talk? Heh, of course...I don't know, Lucas..."
"It's ok, you don't have to. We can just go to sleep. Or not, whichever works for you."
"It's just that..."
Lucas ran his hand through Will's hair in an attempt to calm his worries. He doesn't know when they got this close. Maybe when he moved in with them, accepting their invite with zeal? No. Or maybe through all the newfound time they get to spend now? The quiet movement after they come home from parties? He may not ever know but it's always welcomed. It's a delicacy to them, a sort of affection they could only afford to indulge in right before the void of slumber and during the soreness of fatigue.
Will placed a hand on Lucas’ arm, shaking as he murmured in a dastardly hushed voice, “Just...I miss having hope, you know?”
Deflating into the bed, Lucas knew what those words meant. Another ramble, another rant of pasts unsaid and actions that could not be undone. Yes, it had been at least 2 years since Mike had acknowledged Will's feelings, yet, whenever Will was especially wasted, that damn Wheeler's name kept forcing his way out of Will's lovely lips. Lucas raised his other hand to Will's face, yet stopped short, bringing it to his lap. Will glanced at his, hesitantly reaching out to hold it. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for talking about it. I know it's been so long, I know I keep bringing it up, again and again, whenever I get like this but- it's just that…I miss that feeling of something on the horizon, like if I tried hard enough it'll all work out. If I smiled just a little more, I would catch his eyes just a little more often. Every time I come back here, after all those drinks, basking disgustingly in the stillness, the absence that follows the alcohol, it makes me think. I don't know, sometimes I felt like I had a chance. Sometimes I felt like the world was ending. It’s not a feeling of a chase, because god, even though I kept following after him, it was never a chase. I don't…I don't know, Lucas, sometimes it felt like we were running in the same race? Does any of this make any sense?”
Lucas sighed. Of course it made sense to him, he was there the whole time. In the background, watching, observing the looks they'd give each other, the pull of Will's smile when he tried to hide it, the sparkle in Mike's eyes- he could see it all. And he just hated how much Mike hurt Will. Yeah, they're all still friends but that moment in their lives? The awkward feeling of tension bound to be broken by rejection or acceptance. It was palatable and he hated it, made him sick if he thought too hard about it. And this. This reminiscing? It’s been going on a lot more lately. This ever present feeling, buried deep underneath feelings of forgiveness and understanding, that one only dares to poke out after hours of stimulation and pints upon pints of enough alcohol to stain his sense of self. It was insanity. Lucas moved closer to Will, gripping his hand with vigor. The sorcerer continued, his voice shaky, light and filled with the promise of tears, his tone becoming deeper as he fought them off.
“It wasn't just a crush, Lucas. Lucas, you get it, right…? Lucas-”
“It’s ok, Will I understand…”
“Lucas,...he wasn’t my Tammy, he was never just my Tammy, I- I don’t anymore, but Lucas, I miss the hope, the little giggle in my chest-”
“I know, you don't have to explain yourself, Will-”
“-the warmth in my heart when he looked my way, that sparkle, Lucas-”
“Willia-”
“-in his eyes, god, Lucas, I don’t love him anymore, I know that now, but oh, I miss the softness in his eyes, and I just-"
“Will.”
Finally, eyes plagued with tears, red as the glow of a cracked town, checks puffy, Will looked up to meet Lucas. To actually see him. Once again, he cried. He cried so hard he sobbed, like a widow in mourning. Lucas held him, drawing circles on his back until they subsided and Will's breath fell into a soft, steady pattern.
Still holding his hand, Will made his way standing, getting into the bed; he laid his head down on Lucas' pillow as his eyelids softly closed. He murmured something, so deep with his soul, Lucas almost didn't catch it. But of course, he was right there. Always, right there, leaning towards him. So, with Will speaking, how could he have missed it?
“I want my childhood back sometimes, Lucas,” he muttered, “…sometimes, I feel like I never really had- like I never left that dark…that void…the agony. I miss my youth, Lucas. Do you know what it feels like? To have lost it, to have it stolen for so long? Do you understand the feeling? Lucas?”
Lucas. Will said it with such an ache in his voice, such a desperation, like saying his name would heal him, like if he said it enough times the world wouldn't crack open to swallow him whole, like he could be a light to carry him home. He said it like he'd say it over and over and over. Said it like it was worth a lot more than Lucas could imagine. Will whispered it like a prayer held together by vague, timid, tenacious hope. Unadulterated hope.
Hope.
And, god, Lucas didn't know what to do about it.