Work Text:
It clicked in Jonathan’s brain when they drove away from Hawkins, though he realized he’d probably suspected it for longer. For most of his life, and for the majority of Will’s, it had been them. Him and Mike, and their own particular way of communicating. Jonathan had never been able to imagine something else, and as they left Hawkins behind en route to Lenora, he cranked the music up higher so that Will could cry and think it wasn’t noticeable.
It latched on as he watched them hug goodbye, all of them crying, with Will holding on as if it physically hurt to let go. Technically he did this to each and every one of them, and they did the same in return, but Jonathan found his eye lingering on Mike and the way he looked at his brother, which in turn made him consider the way Will looked at him.
In retrospect, he probably started suspecting it when El came into the picture, though it was buried beneath overwhelming dread for his brother’s well being. Will told him it was strange that he disappeared and then came back to one of his friends practically having a girlfriend, but the disappearance changed more than just that. Life was quite a lot more fragile after it, and so Jonathan was busy trying to navigate this. Trying to navigate a life after.
It saddened him that he couldn’t act like a regular older brother about this. Tease him. Gently encourage him. It wasn’t just about Will having a crush, and he knew that. Wishing he would talk to him, knowing Will would probably rather disappear again before opening up about this, and hating himself for all of it.
Then he saw the painting. He did so by mistake, having gone into Will’s room, which was rare nowadays, to talk about something, anything really, and found him staring at the canvas with a puzzled expression.
“You okay?” he asked, feeling as if he was trespassing even though he had knocked and had been granted access.
“Hm? Oh yeah, sorry. Just-” He waved his brush around, a bold move seeing as it was dipped in red. “Trying to figure out what’s off with it.”
“Can I see?”
Will visibly hesitated, which hurt more than Jonathan would ever talk about, before stepping back to allow him to get closer. “It’s not finished.”
Jonathan was taken aback by how obvious it was that he was drawing Mike fighting off some sort of monster. So taken aback that he barely noticed the outline of the rest of them. “It’s good. Really good.”
Will rubbed the back of his neck, always so proud and bashful at the same time. “You think?”
“Totally.” He was aware of probably sounding a little too enthusiastic, but it had been years since Will drew around others, probably longer since he’d shown him anything. Somewhere along the line he’d stopped using their kitchen table as a workspace, and Jonathan had been too busy with his own shit to notice.
“I can’t seem to get the dragon’s expressions right.”
“Are you gonna use the same expression on all three faces?”
“I was thinking different.”
Jonathan nodded. “That’s smart. I like that they look slightly insane.”
Will let out a laugh, visibly relaxing. “Insane was exactly what I was going for.”
They left the rest unsaid. Jonathan didn’t need to force it out of him, though Will letting him see it so clearly meant that he was okay with him knowing, even if they never talked about it. And that was something, at least.
They didn’t talk about girls. Partly because Jonathan didn’t talk about girls, which was one of the reasons he seemed to have such a hard time getting friends. Guys always wanted to talk about girls, or sports, or drinking, or all three. And Jonathan had fallen in love with Nancy at 16, but he still didn’t talk about her with others. She was simply none of anyone else’s business.
But being in a relationship meant that sometimes they talked about it, mostly in passing. If Jonathan came home upset, guilt and sorrow wrapped around him like a layer of wax he couldn’t crack. Will, and their mom, sometimes noticed, but Will, and their mom, had their own problems. The thing about their family was that they never pushed, unless it seemed absolutely necessary.
But sometimes Jonathan spilled without being prodded too hard. “You okay?” Will asked him after he’d had his first argument with Nancy. Will was small, so small still, but always so empathetic and willing to listen. Desperate to help.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said with a sigh which helped the wax crack, though not entirely.
Something flickered across his brother’s face. Something concerned, almost adult, which in retrospect was both alarming and hilarious because that expression didn’t belong on a 13-year-old. “Is it- relationship issues?”
And Jonathan laughed not because he wanted to, but because Will managed to crack the last of the wax so easily without realizing. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Are you gonna be okay?”
“I think so, bud.” He wrapped his arm around him, with the sudden, overwhelming urge to hold him close. “We argued, that’s all.”
“Shouldn’t you call and apologize?”
“What makes you think it was my fault?”
Will gave him a look that had him wrestling him onto the couch, worming his hands under his arms and relishing in that laughter. How long it had been since he’d heard it. How long it would be until he heard it again.
They didn’t talk about it when they moved in with the Wheelers, though Jonathan had to admit he kept a more watchful eye on his brother now. Not to monitor him - god knew Will needed space now more than ever - but because he wasn’t sure if any of them knew how to navigate this, him and Nancy included. The proximity had been god sent at first, but was turning into something occasionally heavy, occasionally oppressive and overwhelming.
Sometimes he hung out with them though, which was new and strange. He’d always been good at staying out of the party’s hair, mostly since they spent the majority of their time in Mike’s basement, which was now Jonathan’s bedroom. He could leave them be, even now. There was always another place to go to - he knew where to hide - but Will had told him he could stay. Had told him they were just watching a movie and wouldn’t mind him joining.
He wasn’t watching them more than the movie, but he did sneak glances their way. It had become second nature now, just to see if Mike was doing something oblivious that would require him to subtly comfort his brother later. He couldn’t even blame the kid. This was complicated, even though he sometimes wanted to strangle him for hurting Will. Will who was so easy to hurt already. Will who also kept sneaking glances Mike’s way.
He never knew what to do with it, this knowledge he sat on. It was ever present, and yet they never gave it a name. Never gave it a face or an identity. Though it sat with them always, this beating heart Will couldn’t kill.
He caught his brother’s eye accidentally. Hadn’t had time to look away before Will, as if sensing his gaze, swiftly craned his neck to look his way. Jonathan smiled, which made him blush. But he didn’t seem terrified of it. That was also new.
They didn’t talk about it after Mike had said goodnight and left, but he pulled his brother closer to him, gripped the back of his neck and gave his ribs a quick tickle, just as reassurance. And Will laughed and allowed himself to be pulled into Jonathan’s embrace, and had this been different, had they been a couple years older, maybe he would’ve told him to shut up when Jonathan wouldn’t stop grinning at him.
But they were not there. Not yet.