Chapter Text
“Mom?”
Joyce turned around, her frown, which she seemed to sport more often than not these days, melting into a smile. She opened her mouth to speak, but Will cut her off.
“Um...” His mouth suddenly felt dry. He walked to where Joyce stood with a puzzled expression, looking down at his mother. Will doesn’t know when he suddenly grew taller. “Earlier today, when you asked me what happened in Vecna’s mind… I didn’t tell you everything.”
Will scratched the back of his head awkwardly, watching his mother’s brows furrow into their familiar spot. “Will, what is it baby?”
He pursed his lips, keeping the protest of treating him like a child inside. That’s for another day.
Grabbing his mother’s arm, he steered them toward the couch, stuttering, “It’s— it’s complicated. You need to listen to me,” he glanced at Joyce knowingly. “And no interrupting.”
She nodded, bewildered.
With both of them sitting down on the couch, he began, “When Vecna attacks, he weakens you by turning your own mind against you. By bringing out everything inside you that hurts. So I fought back by focusing on happy memories, memories when I was a kid, and when I wasn't scared, and when I felt most happy,” The swingset with him and Mike. Joyce looking at his drawings. Listening to records with Jonathan. “That’s how I took control in the MAC-Z and how I killed those demos.”
Joyce’s hand crept towards Will’s, grabbing it tightly. He shuddered, “And I thought the same would work on Vecna, but he found a way past. He showed me things, Mom,” Will’s voice cracked. “The most awful things.”
Joyce shook her head. “No, listen. Whatever he showed you, it’s not real. He plays tricks. He lies.”
Will laughed humorlessly, “No, he doesn’t. Whatever he showed me, it came from me. He sees everything, Mom. My thoughts, my memories, my secrets.”
“Will, I don’t understand.”
Will looked at their hands, Joyce’s gripping his so tightly. Would she let go once he’s said the words aloud?
“For me to beat him, to win this,” he looked up. “I think you need to know the truth.”
“Honey, you can tell me anything—”
“Mom, Will, I just heard from Hop. We’re leaving in five…” Jonathan trailed off, seemingly sensing the tension in the room. “Everything okay?”
Will opened his mouth wordlessly before swallowing. “Actually, I think you should be here too,” he nodded to a chair. “Sit.”
Jonathan looked around and shrugged, taking a seat directly across from him.
When both Joyce and Jonathan were settled, Will hesitated.
Jonathan squinted his eyes before gently prodding, “Will, whatever you say will never change the fact that we’re family. Family sticks together, no matter what.”
Will soaked in the image of both his mother and elder brother sitting in front of him, with nothing but love in their eyes, wondering if it would be the last.
“Before I say anything, you guys have to know that Vecna…his tactics…he takes whatever he can find in your mind to turn it against you, turn who you love against you, until you’re so miserable there’s no point to go against him. Max, she overcame it,” he took a deep breath. “And I need to, too.”
Joyce smiled, the type that gave you courage not even Robin’s truth serum could give him.
“He showed me a part of myself, a part that is hard for a lot of people to accept,” he looked at the ceiling, suddenly ashamed for being ashamed. “Even me.”
“Vecna showed me…he showed me how he’s going to tell everyone. To slip in the cracks of all my relationships to destroy them. And I can’t let that happen. I have to be the one to tell you guys.”
Will continued, cursing the lump in his threat. “And I know I should’ve told you guys sooner. Out of everyone—Mom…Jonathan…you guys deserve to know who I truly am. I was just so scared, scared of you guys seeing me differently.” A sob escaped him, and he felt a squeeze from his mother. “But I guess it won’t matter if you guys hate me if the world ends tomorrow.”
“Will, I could never—” Joyce tried.
“Don’t be so quick, Mom,” he laughed, met with two worried faces.
Jonathan sighed gently, looking at him knowingly, “Will, whatever it is, we’re brothers. Nothing will ever change that. We love you, Will, and you’re taking that with a grain of salt.
“William, I promise you. You could tell me you were Vecna himself, and not an ounce of me wouldn’t love you. All of you.”
He gave a watery laugh, letting the tears fall freely out of his eyes now. “What I’m trying to say is…”
He thought carefully, before saying, “Remember that day I met Mike on the swingset in kindergarten? How excited I was that I finally had a friend?”
Joyce nodded, and a new expression came over Jonathan’s face. Will thought it looked familiar to recognition.
“Remember how I was always excited when he came over to play D&D, even though it wasn’t fun with only two people?”
Joyce laughed, reminiscing.
“I wasn’t…I wasn’t excited because of that. Not mainly, that is.”
Joyce tilted her head, and Will wished she would pick up the hint.
“I—I didn’t like spending time with Mike because he was my first friend…or because we played D&D together. I liked spending time with him because—because he…”
“He…?” Joyce motioned for him to go on.
“I liked spending time with Mike in a not…normal way. In the way I would like spending time with a girl.”
“Will, honey, what are you saying?”
He looked at Jonathan helplessly, who nodded in understanding.
With newfound courage, he tried again. “Mom, tell me what you told me about love when Jonathan had Nancy’s lipstick on his cheek.”
She looked confused, racking her brain, until she realized. “Oh! I told you, ‘You’ll fall in love someday.’”
“Right, and I told you that I’m not going to fall in love,” he replied, voice wobbly. “I was lying.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I was in love. I have been, all my life.” Will closed his eyes before opening them to look at Joyce dead in the eye. “With Mike.”
He watched her face morph into shock, and she sat extremely still. He looked back at Jonathan, whose eyes had since been swimming with tears, “Will, you idiot. You thought I’d hate you because you love an asshole?”
Will tried to laugh, only a sob spilled from his throat. Jonathan was suddenly in front of him, hugging him and reassuring him. He pulled back to glance at their mother. “Mom, you’re scaring him. Say something!”
She shook her head, her eyes watery too, “I’m just—”
Fear suddenly capsized Will, and he couldn’t breathe. What if he’d already experienced his mother’s last hug?
“I’m so proud of you, William,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I will never, ever stop loving you, and I love you because you’re you. I don’t love you despite it, but because of it. And don’t you ever forget that. You understand me?”
He nodded, dazed, and suddenly he was being enveloped in a hug by both of them. An extremely wet, salty hug.
One that he knew wouldn’t be the last.