WILL
The rain stopped by the time they wheeled me out of the hospital, but the sky still hung low and gray, like the weather hadn't quite made up its mind about what it wanted to do next. Fitting, really. The whole world seemed stuck in limbo, much like I was.
Nathan pushed the chair from behind, steady as always, while Lou walked a few steps ahead, talking quietly to one of the nurses about something or other. I wasn't listening. The sound of her voice was enough. It filled the space, keeping things from feeling too empty.
The hospital had let me go sooner than I'd expected, though I didn't care either way. Hospitals were all the same—sterile, suffocating places where I felt like I was constantly under a microscope. At least now, I could be miserable in the comfort of my own home.
Lou had insisted on riding with me, of course. She'd been glued to my side since the moment she stepped back into my life, and I wasn't sure if I was grateful or frustrated by it. Probably both. She was a force of nature, that one, and I didn't have the energy to fight her right now.
I stared out at the car as Nathan opened the door, the familiar black leather waiting for me. Lou had already hopped in the front, her hand resting on the passenger door, ready to help if needed.
"I'm fine," I muttered, more to myself than anyone else.
Nathan grunted something in response, his grip steady as he secured me onto the lift and into the car. It was a routine we'd done countless times before, but every time felt like a fresh reminder of how far I'd fallen. I used to get in and out of cars without thinking about it. Now, it was an ordeal.
Lou shifted in her seat, glancing back at me. "Comfortable?"
I shot her a look. "As comfortable as I'm going to be."
She didn't take offense. She rarely did. Instead, she turned back around, her fingers drumming lightly against the dashboard as Nathan settled into the driver's seat. My parents followed close behind in their car.
The drive was quiet; the road stretched before us in a long, winding line of gray. I wasn't sure what to say. I wasn't sure I wanted to say anything. I could feel the weight of the hospital still clinging to me, the same old exhaustion that I couldn't shake.
But Lou didn't fill the silence, and for that, I was thankful. She just sat there, her head resting against the window, her eyes distant. It was strange how she could make even the smallest moments feel like they mattered. I had never known anyone like her.
I closed my eyes, letting the hum of the car and the steady rhythm of the road lull me into something close to calm. The hospital was behind us now, but the reality of what lay ahead still pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating. I had given her the time she asked for. And I still didn't know if I'd made the right choice. The window for Switzerland had passed, and I'd been shuffled down to the bottom of the waitlist. They advised me it could take months for my case to be reviewed again.
We pulled up to Granta House, the familiar sight of the large stone facade greeting me like an old friend I didn't particularly want to see. It felt too big now, too empty.
Nathan opened the car door and began transferring me out of the car, his movements quick and efficient. I let him do it without my usual snark, too tired to protest. Lou stood nearby, watching, her eyes following every move.
The cool air hit me as soon as I was out of the car, and I took a deep breath, letting it fill my lungs. It was strange being home again. The house hadn't changed, but I had. I was certain I didn't belong here anymore.
Lou stayed quiet as we went inside, her presence constant but unobtrusive. She wasn't pushing, wasn't asking for anything, and for that, I was grateful. I needed space. I needed time.
But as the door closed behind us, sealing us off from the outside world, I realized that time was the one thing I wasn't sure I could handle anymore.
"Is there anything you need, darling?" my mum asked. She fidgeted with the cross at her neck.
"I'm fine, Mother."
She looked around the annex as if trying to find something to do, some task she could complete so she could feel useful.
"Perhaps we should allow Will to get some rest. He's had a trying day," Dad said, placing a hand on her shoulder, and she flinched.
I looked between them, sensing an underlying tension. Something was happening, but I was too exhausted to care.
"I can help!" Lou's voice filled the tense silence. "I mean, if you want. I know I'm not here in any official capacity—or I don't think I am unless you want me to come back. It's really up to you, Mrs. Traynor."
Mum nodded, pinching her nose. "I suppose that's something we should discuss, Louisa." She glanced at me. "Of course, it's Will's decision to keep you on as his carer."
I sighed. Must we talk about this now? I saw Lou standing at my side just on the periphery of my sight. But even though I couldn't see her face, I could feel the hope spilling out of her, engulfing the room with its energy.
"I am tired," I said. "Can we talk about this another time?"
"Of course." My Dad squeezed my shoulder. "Why don't you get some rest? Your mother and I will be one buzz away." He nodded toward the intercom.
"Alright, Mr. T, let's get you into bed." Nathan grinned at me in his usual affable way.
Right. With my illness and delayed trip, I'd forgotten about Nathan. Like Lou, his position hung in the balance as well. I hadn't even asked if I was interfering with his clients. Surely, he'd have lined up someone new. After all, my presence was quite unexpected.
"Do you need me?" Lou asked.
Nathan looked at me, his eyes questing. I glanced at Lou. "I think Nathan will be fine today, Clark. But stick around. I'd like to see you once I'm settled."
Her face dropped, but she nodded, pressing her lips together. I bit back a smile, knowing that her silence was an exercise in willpower. I don't want to admit it, but having her here is comforting.
The house was quiet. Too quiet.
Nathan had already disappeared somewhere, probably to give me space or just to give Lou and me a moment alone. Either way, it didn't matter. I didn't want a moment alone. I wanted to feel something—anything—that wasn't this constant, numbing emptiness.
Lou hovered nearby, not saying much, just watching. I could tell she was waiting for something. Maybe for me to say something, maybe for me to lash out. I didn't know. All I knew was that being back here felt wrong. It felt like I didn't belong in this space anymore.
"It's like nothing has changed," she said softly, breaking the silence. Her voice was careful, like she wasn't sure if it was okay to speak.
I let out a humorless laugh. "I know. It's odd, really. I hadn't given this place any thought. Didn't think about what would happen… after."
She walked around the room slowly, her fingers brushing over the furniture like she was trying to take in every detail. I watched her, unable to stop the small tug of something in my chest. Lou was like that—always moving, always trying to make sense of things in her own way.
"It feels like a museum," she said, her voice soft. "Like a place that's been stuck in time."
I didn't respond. What could I say? She was right. The annex hadn't changed, but I had. The space felt frozen, a reminder of the life I had left behind.
"It's surreal," I muttered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
Lou stopped mid-step, turning to face me. Her eyes softened, but she didn't move. She stood there, looking at me like she could see right through me.
"I know," she said simply. "I thought you were… gone." Her breath hitched, and I heard the tears in her voice. "I've seen you every day, but being back here makes it seem more… Like I don't know like this is really happening. Like someone heard my wish."
I didn't know what to do with that. She said it like it was the easiest thing in the world, like me being here, wasn't the hardest thing I'd ever had to do.
"I can't give you what you want," I said, my voice low. I looked down at my legs, thin and useless.
Lou didn't respond right away, and I heard the faint rustle of fabric as she sat down in the chair across from me.
"You don't know what I want," she said quietly.
I clenched my jaw, the words stuck in my throat. She was wrong. I knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted me to stay. She wanted me to live. But I didn't know if I could do that—not for her, not for anyone.
"I'm not who I was," I said finally, forcing the words out. "I'm not... him anymore."
"I know." Her voice was calm, but something was behind it—something stronger. "I'm not asking you to be who you were, Will."
I looked up at her then, meeting her gaze for the first time since we'd gotten home. Her eyes were steady, unwavering like she had already made up her mind about me.
"I'm asking you to be who you are now. The person you are with me. Who we are together," she said softly. "That's enough."
I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that who I was now wasn't enough for anyone—not for her or myself. But the words wouldn't come. Instead, I just stared at her, the silence stretching between us.
She didn't push, didn't press for more. She just sat there, waiting. Always waiting. And I wasn't sure I wanted her to stop.
Author's Note: I want to thank those who are keeping up with this fic. I realize I am about a decade too late, but as I previously mentioned, I could not let these amazing characters go. I want to explain that this fic will be a slow-burn story. I feel it would take Will some time to accept his new situation. His choices were based on wanting autonomy, a sense of control, and the ability to choose for himself. I can't see him easily accepting choosing life. I want to assure you that there will be joy, happiness, and lots of love in this story. I also pledge to give these two the happy ending they deserve. However, I want to make sure that it is grounded in realism.
Also, if you're enjoying the story, drop me a line. I'd love to hear from you and interact with you!
