Will Roberts was a perceptive kid. In his early childhood he spent most of his time being quiet, thinking that if he was good enough his parents would stop fighting. He developed a talent for observing the people around him. He could see things others refused to. He had always known that his parents loved each other; he could see it in every action and reaction. He could read them like open books.
That's how he knew something was wrong now. First off, he had only been at camp for 4 days and his dad had showed up, out of the blue. Second, his dad looked too put together. He was dressed in casual clothes and looked normal, except for his eyes. They were bloodshot, from lack of sleep, and empty, there was no spark in them.
"Hey, buddy." His voice was gruff and a little scratchy. Lucas held him a little longer than normal, but Will allowed it. Something was definitely wrong.
"Dad, what's the matter? I haven't been gone a week, don't tell me it's already too boring without me. Or maybe you need some help handling Mom?"
His dad managed a feeble chuckle, but the joke didn't ease the dread pulling at his stomach.
"Speaking of Mom, where is she? Why didn't she come with you?"
Instead of being answered, he was lead to a picnic table. This was life-altering news if he had to sit down.
"Will, I have some... bad doesn't even begin to describe what I have to tell you."
The dread he was feeling before intensified tenfold. Cold, hard fear began to grip all his senses. What if someone else died? It was the only reason his dad would come out here so soon. Shouldn't this be over now? The serial killer was dead! But if it was so bad, wouldn't his mom come, too?
"What's going on? Dad, you're scaring me."
He could see his dad swallow hard, reluctantly meeting Will's eyes for the first time since they sat down. The pain that showed itself left him breathless. He could remember the last time his dad had looked at him like that. It was after his mom fell through the French doors at Tony Dimera's mansion. It was only the day after it had happened and they still didn't know if she would make it.
He had fallen asleep after day camp, only to be haunted by his mother's accident in his dreams. He had been walking down a long, dreary hallway, footsteps echoing off the floors. She was just ahead of him and he was desperately trying to catch up. Just when he had gotten to her side and thrown his arms around her, she'd disappeared whispering "my baby".
It had terrified him beyond words, thinking it was some sort of sign that she would die. Lucas had woken him up and without thinking he had rushed into his arms, seeking comfort. He had needed reassurance, needed to know that his mother wouldn't die. Instead he saw the fear in his father's eyes, before it was masked with concern for him, but it had been there. He had looked horrified at the thought of loosing Mom, and that was when they claimed to hate each other. And now Mom wasn't here and Dad had the same look... oh, no.
"Did something happen to Mom?" he panicked; if his mom was sick then he had to go home and take care of her.
"Bud, sit down." He hadn't even realized he had jumped up off the bench.
"Just tell me what's wrong!"
"Last night, something horrible happened. I found your mother in the bathtub. Will, she was... dead."
Slowly, he sank down onto the bench. Dead? No, she wasn't dead, she couldn't be, she was Mom. No one could expect him to live without his mother, it just wasn't possible. He didn't want to cry, his dad was just barely keeping it together. He should stay strong for his dad, but this was his mom. The woman who had fought tooth and nail to keep him safe and happy. The one who could always make things better, even if it was just with a hug. The tears came of their own accord, they wouldn't stop. He found himself in his father's embrace, both crying for the loss of a woman neither could imagine living without.