quietplacelogs | you can color my world with sunshine every day

Entry tags:

the dark tower: jake chambers

you can color my world with sunshine every day

Featuring: Will Byers

deadboywalking and you~
What's happening: General March catch-all business
Day/s: Throughout March (3/02-3/31)
Content warning: panic attacks, ptsd, mentions of self-harm, possession, death, suicidal ideation (all in prompt 3)

i. casa de wheeler-byer

[So Will and Mike have a house now, which is an excellent thing for two eighth-graders to have. It's small, just enough for the two of them, and Will is obsessed with it. He's barely left it since the first day it appeared, busy painting every single wall with the variety of art supplies he got from Eddie.

One wall is a forest, one is a lake, another is a field with the sun shining and the sky a brilliant blue (and a rainbow ofc), and another is a literal castle. Will's working on this last one now, in the living room, sitting cross-legged so he can work on the details of every single stone in the outer wall, the links in the chain of the drawbridge, the sprigs of bright green grass along the moat. He's got paint all over him, in his hair, smudged on his face, on his clothes.

He hasn't been this happy in weeks. Since before coming to Reims. Since before the Upside-Down. He's in a focused, intent trance, but he's calm and happy enough that any visitors would be welcomed.]

ii. do you take commissions?

[Now that Will has his art supplies back, he's on a roll. He's already helped Kara and Faith redecorate, as well as made a sign for Majima, so why not offer his services to more people who might need it?

Hence:] un: willthewise - if anyone needs anything drawn or painted or any signs or anything done, let me or mike know. it's really grey and sad here, so i wanna help it be a little more colorful, if i can. mike's usually at fight club, and i'm at castle wheeler-byers. it's got a sign, you can't miss it.

i'll also be doing illustrations for mike's book of monsters thing, so if you gave him anything for that and want to make sure i did it right, come by.

iii. because a vision softly creeping left it's seeds while i was sleeping; open to close CR

[Most days are good ones. Will has settled in to a routine here in Reims -- go to Fight Club with Mike, visit his friends, draw or paint or sketch late into the night. Try and stay out of trouble -- nothing stupid or risky, stay away from the monsters. Help out where-ever he can. It's not perfect, it's not home, but Will's sort of happy here.

On the good days.

But then there are the bad ones. Sometimes it's a nightmare, sometimes it's a smell or a sight or a barely-audible sound. Sometimes Will just wakes up and he knows already it's going to be one of the bad days. He'll try to go through his routine like normal, try to pretend that everything's okay, but then there'll be that one tiny thing that flips the switch in his brain and --

-- and he's back, he's riding home from mike's and something is chasing him, he's in the shed with the rifle, no he's in the shed tied to a chair, no he's not in the shed he's in castle byers and there's something growingfesteringliving in his lungs and his throat and his stomach, no he's in the field behind school and it's in his ears in his eyes in his mouth and arms and legs and mind and bones and it's walking for him talking for him killing for him, he's in the upside-down and he's so so cold, he's in the lab and there are needles in his arms, he's in the lab and bob is dying bleeding screaming and he's happy he's so happy it's exactly as he planned, he's in the shed and tapping out C L O S E G A T E C L O S E G A T E K I L L I T K I L L M E K I L L M E --

and in reality Will is sitting hunched over on the front steps of his house in Reims, doubled almost in half, absolutely still, absolutely silent, because he has his wrist shoved into his mouth and he's biting down as hard as he can to keep from screaming.

Because he has to be quiet.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Kara winces at the sight of his wrist but tries to hide it, the look fleeting across her face. She doesn't want to draw his attention to it. He doesn't seem aware he's even done it, and he looks miserable. She opens her arms instead, a clear invitation for him to be enveloped in an A-1 Kara Danvers hug if he wants to be.]

[Will hesitates for only a moment more before leaning forward, clinging onto Kara with all the strength in his little arms, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut. He misses his mom's hugs.]

[As soon as he hugs her, Kara picks up each side of her cape and wraps it around them both, draping it over Will's back. It was Kal-El's baby blanket, after all, thin and silky like waves of water but warm as the sun. Maybe it'll help. She rests her chin on the top of Will's head as she hugs him tightly. She's careful, metering her strength out so she's sure she won't hurt him, but it's a warm hug, reassuring, she hopes, as she holds him. Geez, what happened to him to have him this shaken up?]

[It helps -- the warmth of the cape and the arms around him both help, even though there's an ache in his chest, because he wishes his mom were here. Kara hugs almost exactly like her, the same fierce protectiveness, the same warmth.

So he hides his face against her chest, shivering like a leaf in a windstorm. He's small for his age, much too skinny, much too fragile. But his hands are digging into her clothes, clinging on like the world's saddest little koala.]

[Kara rocks a little, back and forth, like her Aunt Astra used to do when she was sad on Krypton. she sighs against Will's hair and rubs his back, hating that she can't talk right now more than anything. She thought she'd adjusted to those rules so well, but in this moment? All she wants is to tell him it'll be all right, without having to type it on some screen first and break the hug for him to even read it.]

[Too soon, Will's trying to pull back, trying to wipe his face and compose himself. Clearly this is a kiddo who doesn't feel comfortable letting himself cry long and hard, even when he needs it.

He mouths the word, hands too shaky to type it:] Sorry.

[Kara shakes her head, looking almost stern in her vehemence that he has anything to feel sorry for. With both hands, she cups his face, thumbing some of his tears away, and her expression gentles. She shakes her head, no and offers him a small smile even if his expression is breaking her heart.

She drops her hands after a minute with a sigh and pulls out her device. It's times like now when she especially hates the silence.]

Do you want to talk? My house is soundproof. We don't have to use these things if you don't want to.

[It's an instinctive thing, younger than he normally lets himself be, but Will presses his cheek into Kara's hand, like a kitten starved for attention. Perhaps it's because back home his mother is a very affectionate person, always hugging or touching or embracing him. It's been a while since someone was so gentle, so tactile with him.

He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it, rocking forward when Kara drops her hands, then tucking back in on himself. The offer has him hesitating for half a minute before nodding, hesitantly. He doesn't trust himself to type it out in a way that makes sense.]

[with a nod, Kara stands, offering her hand to help Will up. She won't drop his hand, though, holding it all the way to her house if he'll let her.

Once inside, Kara goes through the ritual of closing the door and putting her protective chair in front of it, wedged at an angle under the doorknob. Then she gestures for Will to follow her to the first room on the right, the entertainment center he's halfway done painting. Kara has only the vaguest ideas of who they are, but the Star Wars characters? Look amazing.

She sits on the couch, curling one leg under the other, and mimes for Will to do the same before she grabs two throw pillows, handing him one and curling her arms around the other. It's not stuffed animals, but Will's does have a giraffe on it, so it's close.

When she speaks, it's soft, and if he's not ready, that's okay, but she tilts her head, inviting him to let it all out.]

Will, what happened?

[Will doesn't care that it makes him feel like a little kid, clutching to her hand, hugging the pillow tightly to his chest. He wants to feel like a little kid. He wants to feel tiny and protected and safe, not lost and helpless.

Her voice makes him twitch, the sound unfamiliar after so much silence. Then he breathes in slowly...then out.]

Remember...how you-know-who...got into Faith and Frank and...your heads? [Apparently Kilgrave is Voldemort now, and apparently Will knows a lot more than he's let on.]

[Kara's jaw clenches, almost imperceptibly, and she hugs her pillow a little tighter. How does Will know about that? She hadn't told him anything. And Faith had told Mike, for whatever reason, but Will was already so...

Well, sad. Why would anyone burden him with this too? Still, he knows it now, so Kara jerks out a nod.]

Yeah, I remember.

[Will's looking down now, staring at the pattern of stitches on the pillow seam like it's the most fascinating thing he's ever seen in his entire life. His voice is soft, like it's coming from far away.]

Back home, something like that happened to me. This monster got into my head and it made me...do things. It made me lie and trick people. It made me trap a bunch of people who were trying to help me. I fooled them all into going somewhere dangerous and a bunch of monsters killed them all.

Then the monsters got out and killed a lot of other people. Some doctors and scientists and soldiers and...and this guy. My mom's boyfriend. He stayed behind to help us and the monsters got him.

And it was my fault.

[during Kara's haze of sadness, right after she'd killed Frank and died and came back, before she'd stupidly went back to Kilgrave, like an idiot, she remembers Will telling her a little about this. What sort of monster... just...

He's a kid. She can't get over it. Still, she listens, watches Will, nods along patiently while he talks.]

It wasn't your fault. You know that, Will. The monster was controlling you. Whatever it did, or whatever tricks it made you do, was all its fault. I'm so sorry you've had to live through it, though. [she adds, fiercely:] It's not right.

[Will raises and lowers a shoulder. He's heard this, he's heard it enough that he's slowly starting to believe it.

But the fact remains:] I can't stop remembering it, though. What it felt like, how angry He was inside me, how much He wanted to kill everyone. What it tasted like to --

[He cuts himself off, throat working a couple times as he swallows tightly.]

[Kara rakes her teeth over her bottom lip, worried, and nods. She gets it. Everything Kilgrave made her do... She remembers it in crystal clear memory, even if it technically wasn't her "fault." (She's still working on believing that one.) Gosh, she wishes she could help Will better than just calming platitudes.

She reaches out, taking one of his hands in both of her own, her thumb stroking over the back of his hand, a hopefully calming touch.]

I know. That has to be awful, Will. I wish I could help more. [she smiles wryly.] Just climb inside your brain with a hammer and fix things!

[then, sobering.] "It takes time" isn't comforting, I know, but it's the truth. One day you won't remember all of this so easily, and one day you will feel better, whole. I promise.

[Will looks down at her hands covering his, shoulders tucked in, breath still a little shaky. Now that it's all gotten out, he feels...empty. Good empty. Tired empty.

Very softly:] You don't...think I'm a bad person. Right?

[Kara actually rocks back a little with how fiercely and instantly her answer comes out.]

Oh, Rao's name, no. Absolutely not. There's nothing bad about you, Will.

[The quickness of the answer calms him a little -- but there's still that furrow between his brows, the anxious look in his big, sad eyes.]

There are...some things. Some things that just...got made wrong, I think. I'm not. Normal. I already wasn't and...all that just made it worse.

[Kara listens thoughtfully, and she can't help the niggling voice in her mind that sounds an awful lot like Ms. Grant sneaking in.]

So, for two years and some change, I was a personal assistant for Cat Grant: media mogul. [she holds up her hands like she's going over some sort of placard or name card in the air, something bold and fancy and modern as she says Cat Grant's name.]

Ms. Grant is a very smart lady, and she'd tell you that it's all about how you spin a story. I don't... I don't think there's actually anything wrong with you, Will, aside from some really horrible experiences. But, what makes you different doesn't have to be bad? Not if you spin it the right way, tell the right story. I'm not saying to lie, but if you're different... what good can come out of it? Focus on the good points instead of the bad and make it your own hero story.

[she taps Will's knee with two fingers and then pulls her device out, shaking it just a bit for emphasis.] I'm sure you could do that. After all, isn't your name Will the Wise?

You were a personal assistant? Even though you're a superhero? [Will looks skeptical, only because he cannot yet comprehend Capitalism.

But then, quieter:] Like...instead of saying the monster's using me, say I was using it to spy? That's what Mike said I should do. It sorta helped.

[Then Will looks up at Kara, big eyes and trembling voice and all.] How can I make it good if...if there's something really wrong with me. With how my head is. Something really bad and backwards and messed up. Something that was there even...even before the monsters.

[Kara nods enthusiastically.] Yeah, just like that. I'm glad you and Mike are such great friends.

[after she says that, though, Will's just looking at her and just looks... so lost, still, and Rao's light, she wishes she could help him more. What on Earth could he be talking about? Before the monsters?]

What do you think is wrong with you? If you want to talk about it. You don't have to, but maybe I can help.

Me too. He's my best friend.

[Here he hesitates, shifting back and forth on his seat. He wants to tell her. He wants to be honest, and he can almost -- almost -- believe that she won't be upset or disgusted or horrified. But the words catch in his throat, so he tries talking around them.]

I don't...like things that...normal people like. I don't understand them and...I know I'm supposed to.

[Kara lets out a quiet sigh, and she... she thinks she gets it, now. For a moment, they're on a bench, on the boardwalk, looking out at the water, and it's not Will next to her but her sister, Alex. I think I have feelings for Maggie.

She could be wrong, but she doesn't think she is. And for Will to be this young and thinking about this already... and isn't he from the 80s on his Earth? She thinks that's what Mike told her, at the beginning. It's extraordinarily brave of him to even hedge around it.

Heck, by the time Alex came out, the world was way more accepting, and it was still extraordinarily brave for her, too. She's never quite understood "coming out" - in some ways. She understands keeping a part of you hidden, even if it's not the same. She's Supergirl after all. But on Krypton, no one had to come out about anything. Who you loved didn't... It didn't matter.

And it matters so much on Earth, all the time.

She's not sure what to say, wasn't sure what to say when Alex came out either.]

You can tell me. Whatever it is, I'm not going to judge you. I'm just here to listen.

[maybe she's wrong but... she doesn't think she is.]

[Will's dropped his head, staring intently at his knees, hands curled into tight fists in his lap. There's a little corner of his mind that he keeps locked tight, with every single thing that's been said to him -- by the kids at school, by some of the adults around town, by his dad -- shoved inside, out of sight, out of mind, so he won't have to think about it. He doesn't let it out. He doesn't even acknowledge it exists.

But just for a second, for the space between breaths, Will let's the tight control loosen, just a fraction. When the words come, they're hoarse, ugly, hurting things dragged out from that deep, dark, quiet place.]

When he still lived with us, my dad would...always tell me to stop being such a faggy little crybaby. Stop acting like a little girl. Man up. No son of his is going to be the town queer.

...Kara, I don't...I don't want him to be right about me.

[Kara winces and tries very hard not to let her growing anger boil to the surface so Will can see. She's mostly successful, but her brow furrows. How could someone say that? To their kid? No wonder Will's so... upset about everything. Holy toledo that's awful and not fair. She shakes one hand free so that she can grab both of Will's, squeezing tightly (but carefully), giving him an intense look as she ducks her head to meet his gaze.]

He's not right. Not that you're not - [she breaks off with a sigh.] Will, if you're gay, then that is... perfectly fine. I have so many friends who are gay, and I'm... [another pause. What would she consider herself? She's never really thought about it. On Earth, it's important, but her most formative years were on Krypton, where nothing like this mattered.]

I like girls. Like-like girls, and guys, and I know people can be cruel about it. But your dad, anyone else like him, they're the ones that are wrong, for saying things like that, for hurting you. You are not wrong. Not even a little bit.

you can color my world with sunshine every day

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cw: slurs

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