Disclaimer: I don't own the Infernal Devices. The title and quote belong to the Bard.
A/N: I don't even know what this is. I mean, I hate Will Herondale and here I am writing a story about him? Ugh. Anyway, please review, I'd really appreciate it. :)
Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season,
When in the why and the wherefore is neither rhyme nor reason
- William Shakespeare, The Comedy of Errors Act II
Neither Rhyme Nor Reason
Jem is the only person that believes in him anymore. That's obvious enough by the way that everyone else reacted once the vampires escorted him back to the Institute, Will singing drinking songs as he went along.
"Come along now," Jem is saying but Will can't even pay attention to him. Jem's arm is supporting Will as they make their way up the stairs and Will can't even begin to think about how selfish he is really.
Jem is dying and getting weaker every second and yet here he is still helping Will. And just like that every single cell in Will Herondale's body hates the other and the black haired boy's self contempt is so strong that it's all Will can do not to throw up. It's stunning, really, how quickly he gets sober, the effects of the whiskey forgotten.
"Let go of me, I can handle myself," he tells his parabatai and Jem just sighs, letting Will go. Will rights himself with the help of the wall and then puts one foot in front of the other.
Jem just watches him with a sad expression in his eyes as he leans against a wall of the hallway. "You're such a tragedy," he tells his best friend and watches as Will grins.
"The best way to be remembered is to be a tragedy."
"Is that why you do this to yourself, so that you can be remembered?" Jem demands. He's tired of watching Will parade around as though he cares for nothing and no one, tired of seeing the flash of self loathing that occasionally flashes in his friend's eyes as he breaks yet another person's heart.
The only thing that Jem can do is sit back and watch as the act that is Will Herondale plays on, no one ever knowing if it is the lie or the truth.
"Of course not. I do it so that I can forget," Will tells him, as if that answers the question.
"Forget what?"
"Everything." There's a dark seriousness in Will's expression that Jem hasn't seen all evening. But then the Will that everyone knows and loves comes back as he begins to sing the same drinking song that he was before loudly enough that the words bounce off the wall. Faintly they can hear Jessamine screech and Will's grin gets bigger as he gets louder and louder as he goes up to his room.