Work Text:
It’s Friday and Wilhelm is sitting on his bed, in his room, alone. It’s late evening, classes are done for the day, so is rowing and workies are over as well, Simon has gone home a little while ago and even though they’re still kind of texting (‘Yes, I got back home safe, Wille, the bus ride literally takes 30 minutes shut up’) he’s already missing him.
But he’s also missing someone else. This would be the time when his brother would usually video call him. Not necessarily at this hour or exactly this day but at one point during the weekend Erik would call and they would have at least a brief catch up. He realises he’s still waiting for that call even though his brain knows for sure it won’t come. It hurts.
Still he can’t stop the Waiting and he’s also not sure if he wants to because that would feel like cutting off a bond he’s not ready to cut. The burning feeling behind his eyes hasn’t really stopped since the phone call from his mother even though no tears have fallen yet (‚Not here, not now, Wilhelm.‘).
He feels restless and alone and sad and bitter and just on this side of everything being too much so he makes a split decision not even really thinking about it. He knows what he wants. Or who. It’s like his body moves on it’s own accord and his brain is too tired and too occupied with keeping the burning behind his eyes at bay to do anything about it.
He takes his jacket and scarf and makes his way out of his room via the window without a second thought. Feeling a little more confident on the bus but also not really registering how he makes his way to the now somewhat familiar house in Bjärstad.
It shows how frazzled his mind really is when he knocks on the door and doesn’t even think about how the person answering the door is probably not gonna be Simon when Linda stands in front of him, looking somewhat confused. He’s so surprised by her existence in that moment that for a couple seconds they just blink at each other.
Something in his face must’ve given him away because the next thing he feels is her hand on his arm, gently pulling him inside the house. She says ‘Oh Wilhelm’ with so much sorrow in her voice for a moment he’s sure she’s lost a brother too.
She pulls him into a hug and wraps her arms around him, jacket and all. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, he’s never been hugged like this before. He can’t remember the last time his own mother hugged him. Did she hug him before or after the funeral? He isn’t sure, it’s all very blurry. He certainly hasn’t felt like this before. Linda hugs him like she means it, like if she squeezes hard enough she can squeeze the pain out of him. Which obviously she can’t, but Wilhelm entertains the idea for half second because it’s a nice thought.
The burning behind his eyes intensives but he refuses to let the tears fall. He has a hard time getting his breathing under control but he will not let this moment be ruined. He realises belatedly that he’s just standing there stupidly before wrapping his own arms around Linda and hugging her back.
‘Mamá?’
Wilhelms looks up from where he has his face buried in Linda’s cardigan and his eyes meet Simons who’s looking only a little confused before a soft smile over takes his face.
Linda let’s him go and takes his jacket and scarf from him while gently pushing him in the direction of Simon and the living room.
He feels like a tiny child being passed from one pair of arms to another but in this moment he really doesn’t mind. Simon greets him with a sort of half hug, one arm around his shoulders the other softly touching his elbow and a kiss to the apple of his right cheek.
And this is how, a couple minutes later, he finds himself on the sofa sitting between Simon and his mother, a cup of tea in his hands and some form of talent show on the TV.
He’s so tired and his heart is beating so fast but he’s not really sure what feeling exactly is causing that just now. He has his legs pulled up on the sofa his toes kind of touching Linda’s legs where’s she’s made herself comfortable on his left side. His own body is kind of slumped into Simons side on the right. Right arm to left arm and his head resting against his shoulder while Simon is scrolling through Instagram on his phone.
He feels warm and cozy and protected and for a little while he listens to what’s going on on the TV while watching Simon put hearts on the pictures of his friends.
It’s nice. It’s so fucking nice and if he could he would grab this moment and the warm feelings he’s feeling with the palms of his hands and bottle it all up to keep with him for a later time.
He doesn’t even realise the burning in his eyes has returned full force at first but it’s as if all of a sudden he can’t breathe anymore, like the air became trapped in his lungs.
‘Wille?’
He can hear Simons soft voice right next to him but it also sounds very far away. His cup gets taken out of his hands and then there’s an arm around his shoulder, drawing him in.
He hates crying and he hates it even more in front of people, his mothers face comes to mind telling him he’s too old for that and he really should get a grip on himself until he’s in his own room at least. (‚Not here, not now, Wilhelm.‘).
He tries, very weakly, to put some distance between himself and Simon but he’s not really trying that hard and Simon seems to have other ideas anyway as he tightened his arm around Wilhelm a little as rubs his other hand slowly up and down over his back. So he just lets himself be hugged awkwardly but firmly on the sofa while he waits for the tears to stop.
He can feel Linda’s hand on his ankle, squeezing softly and he almost laughs at how the gesture makes him feel so taken care of.
Meanwhile Simon’s hand has moved to his arm and is drawing gentle patterns. He doesn’t tell him that everything will be ok or makes noises to indicate he should stop crying. Just patiently keeps waiting for Wilhelm to cry all his tears out.
Having two points of his body being touched by two different people makes him feel very big feelings, almost as big as the overwhelming grief inside of him. He knows that this will not take the grief away, will not make it puff out into thin air like some bed time stories would like you to believe, but he also can’t deny that this is so much better than being alone in his room at school where no one would gently pet his arm or squeeze his ankle. He soaks up every bit of affection, knowing it can be taken away at any moment.
After a little while he feels his body calm down, apparently he has no more tears to give for now. His heart calms down, too.
‘I’m sorry’ he whispered where he is hiding his face in Simons jumper, kind of hoping no one would hear him but still needing to say the words.
Simon huffs a small breath which sounds like his name but maybe not and Linda squeezes is ankle a little tighter before letting him go completely. She offers him a tissue box and he takes one and with an embarrassed laugh, dries his eyes and blows his nose before settling back into the folds of the sofa, leaning against Simons body like before. He rubs his cheek against his shoulder. The texture of Simons jumper is nice against his skin and he soaks up the warmth offered to him like a sponge. Simon hasn’t stopped drawing patterns on his arm near his elbow and Wilhelm heaves a big sigh.
He feels a little lighter, just a smidge but enough to allow his eyes to close for a brief second or maybe longer, take another deep breath and feel comfortable and warm and loved in this moment.