Chapter Text
"I, I- I don't like girls." Will was barely able to choke it out. It burned his dry throat as salty tears slid down his pained face. "And, I liked someone, but they're -he's- not like me. Not in that way. And I can't do anything about it, because he's just my Tammy. And what I guess I'm trying to say, is that, it wasn't ever about him. It was about me."
He glanced longingly at Mike, who didn't meet his eyes. His face was contorted with pain and realization. His brown eyes were dark and hollow, and he stared at the floor.
Jane sat next to him, an innocent face. She flinched slightly as Mike continued to clench her hand, and slowly slid it out from his before flexing her numb fingers. Mike seemed lost without her to hold on to, looking all around, except at Will. He couldn't seem to bear it.
The silence hung heavily over the room; no one dared to speak first. "Well, I, for one, had no idea!" Robin said simply to break the burning silence. Joyce stood to hug Will. "
Mike still didn't look up. His mouth hung open and his eyes were glossy. He looked terrified. (Maybe of Will)
His lungs felt tight, and he started to breathe in quick little gasps without drawing much attention to himself. Because that would be the worst thing, he thought as every person in the room inspected him carefully, picking him apart to try to piece it together. To try and over analyze every long glance or small moment.
It was more suffocating than trying to breathe.
It was hours later of struggling to brave the upside down when Will's lungs failed him. He dropped to the sandy dunes and started gasping for any sort of air. Mike had barely looked at him at all, even while climbing the tower together, and each ignored glance made his stomach sink a little bit more. He felt nauseous, and gasping up bits of sand into his mouth wasn't helping. He rolled onto his stomach shakily and tried to cough out the sickness to no prevail; it only made his throat sore and his lungs burn. Mike ran over and kneeled down next to him: "Hey. Are you okay?"
Will looked terrible, and was obviously less than stellar, but he still forced himself to a sitting position to stare menacingly up into Mike's worried eyes. He seemed to actually care, which was the worst part of it all. Will couldn't just forget him, leave him behind like some silly crush. He always worked his way back into Will's life (*heart) no matter how much he messed up. Mike started to offer his hand, before giving it a short thought and snatching it back. Will glared again before hoisting himself up. Mike looked slightly sorry only for a second before walking away, without as much as a backwards glance.
And that was all left after over a decade of being best friends. Not even a backwards glance. All because of one conversation.
Will started to feel sick again.
He kneeled down after a few unstable steps, pretending to tie his shoe, but really trying to subtly leave whatever was blocking his breathing in the sandy dunes. Nothing lay in the sand except for some slightly crumpled flower petals; they'd probably been there for years. Maybe blown over from some actually plantable ground. Robin noticed him as she walked past, and offered a hand to help him back up. Will subconsciously waited for her to snatch it back, just as Mike had, but cautiously took it when she didn't waver. "Thank you," he croaked quietly. Robin seemed to notice that he was shaky standing, and so she linked their arms to help him. They were far behind the group, but neither of them seemed to mind. At least, not enough to speed up.
"You know," Robin began, "I don't think I could've ever done that. Just... said it. And I know I probably should- I think your beau still thinks me and Steve are a thing- but I just can't find it in me to just blurt it out. Y'know?"
Will didn't say anything. Because there was nothing he needed to. And because it hurt enough to breathe, let alone talk.
And he was focused on the way Robin so calmly called Mike his "beau", like it was true. Like Mike could even look him in the eye anymore.
The sand started to stretch and blur.