Work Text:
Will fidgets more in his seat, shifting his position as Joyce looks at him expectantly, but patiently. She offers him a warm smile, though Will can see the twinge of worry beneath it.
He glances to her side and is met with a reassuring expression from Jonathan. He looks confused but nods encouragingly.
Will can feel his heart beating a million miles per minute. His palms are clammy, and his breaths come out shallow, but he swallows hard and tries to remain grounded. This is his moment. The moment he can finally share this part of himself that used to scare him so much.
He hears Robin’s words echo through his mind: “Just saying it out loud to someone and hearing them be cool with it? It’s like a weight lifted.”
He shuts his eyes and breathes in. This is his mother and his older brother. The two people who have always been there for him through everything. The two people who love him most out of everyone in the world. He opens his eyes and looks between them.
“There’s something you guys should know about me,” he starts, a quiver in his voice. “And I figure that, if we’re going to do this, then I want to be honest with you.”
Joyce and Jonathan both nod, prompting him to go on. His breaths are shaky as he continues to fidget with his hands. “I know I’m… different. Different from other boys my age.” Joyce opens her mouth as if to say something, but Will shakes his head at her. “You don’t have to pretend like it isn’t true, Mom. I know it is.” Joyce looks down with a certain sadness in her eyes, but doesn’t attempt to interject.
“Even though I liked the same things as Mike, Dustin, and Lucas, I didn’t exactly fit in. When I was younger, I didn’t understand why.” Will feels himself tearing up; his vision is clouding enough that his mother and brother look like two blurry figures. Weirdly enough, he thinks it helps a little. “I always felt like there was something wrong with me. I mean, everyone said it. Even Dad. Especially Dad.” He grimaces at the mention of his father, remembering the horrible words he used to say to him that made him cry himself to sleep every night.
At that, Joyce puts her hand on his thigh, rubbing up and down in a comforting way that makes his tears pool out. A sob escapes his lips as he continues. “And it wasn’t just Dad—it was all the kids at school. They were always mean to-to all of us but…” His breath hitches as he holds back another sob, and his voice quiets at his next words. “It was only me that they called those names. The… The names that Dad always shouted at me.”
Joyce crumbles at this, unable to keep quiet anymore. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I wish I could’ve done more to help you. Your dad… I should’ve left the moment he said those things to you.” Her voice breaks off. Will gently holds her hand in his own. “Please don’t blame yourself for this, Mom. You always made things so much better for me, so thank you for that.” He manages a small smile, which she readily returns.
Jonathan is wiping his eyes on his sleeve but stays silent, smiling at Will in a way that says I’m here for you. Suddenly, Will feels a surge of confidence and certainty. Childhood memories flash through his head once again, and he remembers how proud his mother was every time he drew something new, and her excited squeal as she hung it up on the wall. He remembers building Castle Byers with Jonathan and how safe he always felt with him.
So, he decides to be brave. “The thing is—it was true. All of it. I-I am different. Because when all the other boys were looking at girls, I was looking somewhere else because…” His laboured breaths are shaky against his soft cries, and he breathes in deeply. Once. Twice.
“Because I don’t like girls. I like boys.”
There’s a pregnant pause, and he holds his breath anxiously. He waits for rejection. For his mother to drop his hand, or for Jonathan to stand up and leave. But neither of those things happens. Instead, Joyce tightens her hold on him and leans forward to capture him in a firm embrace.
“Oh, Will. Baby, I’m so proud of you.” She sniffs and pulls back to look at him with a wide smile. There’s love etched in every line of her face, and her eyes are filled with nothing but comfort and warmth, and Will forgets for a moment why he ever felt so scared in the first place.
“Hey, don’t forget me.” Jonathan stands, his face tear-streaked and smile gleaming, and Will follows. They meet in a crushing hug, and Jonathan rocks them side to side before pressing a kiss against his cheek. “I love you so much, no matter what. You’re my baby brother, and you’ll never lose me.” He pulls back but not completely, his hands resting on Will’s shoulder. “You’re the bravest person I know.”
Will starts earnestly crying now. He realises that Robin was right. He feels like an immense weight has been lifted. He feels… so free.
“Jonathan’s right. You’re so brave, honey. I wonder who you get it from,” Joyce says with a laugh.
“From you, Mom. I get it from you,” Will replies with a smile. He feels so happy right now. He’ll have to thank Robin later.
Their moment is interrupted by an awkward cough. All three of them turn at the same time to see Mike standing there looking conflicted. Will’s heart speeds up against his own volition at the sight of his best friend, but then he realises that he didn’t hear the door open. A fearful thought enters his head. How long has he been there?
“Um. We have to leave in five,” Mike says before his eyes widen slightly. A small gesture that could’ve been easily missed. “I meant—now. We’re leaving now.”
As if on cue, the door opens and closes with a bang, and Hopper appears. “C’mon, let’s get going.”
Will feels a tiny uneasy feeling, but it disappears as quickly as it came, so he disregards it, too distracted by how happy he feels. He beams at Joyce and Jonathan, then at Mike.
“I’m ready,” Will says. It’s true. He doesn’t feel so afraid anymore. He thinks that, now, in this moment, he can truly do anything.
As they walk out, Mike subtly bumps his shoulder, smiling at him. Will’s heart skips a beat.
This is going to be a long day.
