Author's Note: The more you review, the quicker I'll update! Thanks to everyone who enjoyed Chapter 1. Here's Chapter 2! I had another version of this song and it always reminded me of Will. I hope it doesn't seem… cheesy.
Song Credit: The Who.
Chapter 2: Behind Blue Eyes
When it came time to leave the attic, Will sent Tessa downstairs first, not wanting her to be seen with him. Although the chances of anyone seeing them together at this late hour were slim, Will didn't want to take any chances. It felt as though he and Tessa had crossed a gaping chasm together, and were now on the other side, wishing they could go back to as it was before.
Before. Everything was always before. It couldn't be in the present or near future. Everything was always better before. Before Will had come to the Institute, life had been easy and predictable. Before Cecily had perished, Will's parents had loved him. Before was much better than right now, or someday. Before was… before.
The witch light sconces in the hallway were brighter than they should have been as Will walked into the hallway where he and Jem's rooms were located. Will's eyes following the stately line of closed doors down either side of the hallway. His gaze stopped at the one door on the right, which was open. Light blazed out of the room like a raging fire burned inside. Shadows distorted the light and cast themselves on the door to Tessa's room. Will wished desperately for before, when he was up in the attic and it was just he and Tessa and Jem was nothing more than a tiny thought in the back of his mind.
Will walked down the hallway and stopped outside of the door to Jem's room. Henry was holding Jem in his arms as Charlotte pulled bloodstained sheets off the bed. They were both dressed in pajamas and looked odd and unwelcome in Jem's room. This room had always been Will's safe haven. Sophie was the only other person who spent time in Jem's room and that was because she had to change the bed sheets and collect Jem's laundry. Charlotte and Henry never entered Jem's room unless they had to.
Charlotte handed the sheets to Sophie, who tossed them into a basket. She looked up at Will, a cold, emotionally dead expression on her face. Sophie did the laundry at the Institute. When Jem soaked his sheets through with blood from another attack, Sophie was the one who bleached the sheets back to their pristine white.
Sophie's hair was a mess, hastily pulled up from her face. A light feathering of blood was brushed across the front of her white dressing gown. Her eyes filled with tears as she glared at Will. She didn't have to blame him for this. Her expression spoke volumes the same way his father's had. Will had done wrong. Sophie didn't need to scold him.
"Where were you?" Sophie demanded, quietly. Of course. Jem was unconscious but he could still hear. It was best to not let him overhear Sophie blaming Will for this. It wasn't Will's fault, but the aftermath of it was. It should have never gone this far. Will should have stopped it long before now. "He needed you, Will."
Will crossed the room and stood beside Henry. He reached down and took Jem from Henry, holding him up off the bed so that Charlotte could lay down fresh, crisp white sheets. Jem's body was fever hot in Will's arms. He was breathing unevenly and painfully. Jem needed to wake up and cough up all of the blood that had drained in his lungs, but right now, he was unconscious, and would be for some time. Blood was drying across Jem's cheeks and nostrils. His lips were stained with it and his skin was a grayish white. It was Jem's attack, but Will's responsibility.
"Leave him to me," Will said. He laid Jem back down on the bed. "I can handle cleaning up. Please, leave now." Will rolled up the sleeves on his shirt as Charlotte and Henry studied him. They pitied him and didn't have to say that either. "Please." Will felt dangerously close to crying, as he always did whenever Jem almost died but somehow lived. "Please."
"You couldn't have prevented this," Charlotte said. She touched Will on the arm and accidentally left behind a smudge of blood. Will looked down at the red liquid staining his pale skin and didn't reply.
Before, Charlotte and Henry had explained everything to Will. Jem was addicted to an awful substance. His only treatment was the pen that would sign his death warrant. There was nothing Will could do to save Jem from what his future would contain. Will stood at Jem's side every day and had lay down beside him in the same bed at night on more than one occasion. Charlotte and Henry could empathize with Jem's plight and Will's endurance of it, but they would never understand what it was like to be in Will's position. Will loved Jem. If Jem was to die… no one would understand how that would feel.
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
No one knows what it's like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies
It didn't have to be this way, and Will knew it. He could have never met Jem, had fate not brought them together. When Will had left Wales, he had come to London because he was starving and needed a place to sleep. He didn't plan to stay ling and long and had planned to go somewhere else, where no one might know his name. He thought he would stay three months, just to figure out what to do next, but then Jem arrived. Will found himself pitying the poor boy that was just as alone in the world as Will felt he was. Will had stayed for Jem.
But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free
In fits of anger no one ever saw, Will envisioned leaving the Institute. He would go to China and kill the demon who had inflicted this life onto Jem. Even if he perished in his quest to avenge Jem, he would not have died in vain. When Jem suffered, Will suffered. It wasn't fair but then again nothing ever was.
No one knows what it's like
To feel these feelings
Like I do
And I blame you
Sometimes, in dark moments, Will blamed Jem, however wrong that may be. If Jem hadn't been so perfect, so sweet, and so innocent, maybe, he wouldn't have been easy to love. But it was wrong to blame Jem. Jem couldn't help his attacks or his addiction. He was helpless in that sense. He didn't mean to dissolve into a seizure whenever his craving for the drug became too severe. Yet, Will resented Jem for it, the way an addict's child resents the parent who was never there. Jem loved Will, he belonged to Will, but then Jem was dying. Will was losing him, and Will couldn't help but hate Jem for the pain he caused them both.
No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through
Will hated the drug, and the demon, and every negative feeling in his body that always reminded him that Jem's time with him was brief. It was times like these, when Jem was stained with his own blood and so close to death, Will could feel his soul slipping away, that Will thought about starting to scream. He would scream until his throat bled, his jaws became unhinged, and his lungs burned for a breath he would not take. When he finally stopped, he would find every mirror within reach and shatter them all, because he was already cursed with bad luck. How much worse could an eternity of bad luck be? Will would allow himself to fall apart, to truthfully soak in his anger and release it in one long, sustained burst. He would let himself feel everything he otherwise left bottled up and hidden.
But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free
The right thing to do would have been to love Jem now and pretend that he would never die. But that wasn't possible, not when Jem nearly died every other day, it seemed. Jem wouldn't want Will to feel this way, but in these moments, when Jem had nearly drowned in his own blood, it was impossible to not see the end result. Jem was going to die. Will would be left to carry on without him. Will wanted to pretend this wasn't the case but there was no other outcome possible.
When my fist clenches, crack it open
Before I use it and lose my cool
When I smile, tell me some bad news
Before I laugh and act like a fool
It was a defense mechanism, Will knew. He didn't mean to treat people as awful as he did but he saw no other way. If Charlotte and Henry didn't care for him, his pain would mean nothing to them. If he acted like he didn't care about himself, or anyone else, he would never have to worry about hurting. He wouldn't have to worry about eventually mourning Jem. If everyone hated him in their own way, Will wouldn't have to worry about being loved at all. So Will played the fool. He went out and got drunk and did things to cause others to turn away from the embarrassment he made of himself. It was easier that way, to make others hate him. Anything was easier than to have anyone know how much pain Jem's suffering inflicted on him. What Will needed was a person able to stop him from hemorrhaging pain. He needed someone to help him forget Jem. Walking away from Jem now, and forgetting the feelings they once had for one another was easier than losing him unexpectedly. Will could leave the pain behind himself. He had before.
The bedroom door opened and Tessa walked in, dressed in her pajamas. She said nothing, just walked over and sat beside Will. She put an arm around Will's shoulders and pulled him close. Tessa loved Jem in a way that wasn't clear just yet. She had been with them for such a short time, but Will knew there were feelings between the three of them.
If I swallow anything evil
Put your finger down my throat
If I shiver, please give me a blanket
Keep me warm, let me wear your coat
"He'll be alright, yes?" Tessa asked. "He's not going to die tonight?"
"Not tonight," Will said. "Tessa, I…"
"He needs a blanket," Tessa said. She stood up and went to the bureau to retrieve a blanket she then draped over Jem's body. "He'll need to sweat out the fever. Go into the bathroom and get me a wet rag. I want to wash his face."
"He wouldn't want you here," Will said. "He wouldn't you to see this." Jem was as deep in denial as Will was about his injury. The last thing he would want would be to appear weak and incapable in front of Tessa.
"I'm here for you both," Tessa said. "Let me."
Will stood up and went into the bathroom. He dampened a wash cloth with cold water and brought it to Tessa, who pressed it to Jem's forehead. She was so sweet and caring, Will thought that he didn't deserve her. Jem, however, did.
"He'll feel better soon," Tessa said, not bothering to add the words: he has to, for all of us. Maybe Tessa understood everything better than Will had expected her to. Maybe she could be the one to make Will smile again.
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
Author's Note: I never knew how challenging song fics could be! I give many props to all of you who write them well. I hope you enjoyed this. Please, let me know what you think!
