5. Broken Bottles

"Jessica! I'm home!"

There was no answer, and Will's voice echoes around his house, coming back to him faintly. He sighed, tossing his backpack into the corner and heading into the kitchen.

He was greeted with a mess of broken glass. Will knew exactly what they were, and his stomach dropped. He'd never thought that Jessica would go so low as to get drunk over him.

Then he saw his mother slumped on the table.

His eyes widened and he raced forward. "Mom?" he asked, his heart pounding as he grabbed her shoulder. "Mom, are you okay?"

Jessica jolted upright with a snort, her eyes flying open. She saw Will and grinned.

"Oh, hey, Will... Oh." She gasped and held a hand to her head, then laughed. "How was school?"

"Fine," he said, swallowing hard to fight back tears that had no business being there. This was supposed to be different. I thought you left Dad because he was a drunk. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DIFFERENT. "Let's get you to your bed."

"Thank you, Will," Jessica sighed. "You're always so...gentlemanly..."

Will's lips tightened. She must be really drunk if those were her thoughts. He grabbed her wrist and slung his arm around his shoulders, helping her to her feet. Together, they hobbled into the master bedroom, which was cleaner than the kitchen. Gently, Will helped Jessica get into her bed. She yawned, collapsing onto her pillows.

"Thanks, Will..."

"You don't mean that," Will muttered, turning to go. His mother caught his wrist.

"No...for calling me Mom. You...I can't remember the last time you did that." A sudden burst of sobriety cleared the fog from her eyes. "I love you."

"Love you too, Je--Mom," Will said after a moment of hesitation, then pulled his wrist from her grip and leaving to go clean up the mess of broken bottles in the kitchen. He closed the door quietly behind him, then took a deep breath and closed his eyes, sliding down the wall until he sat on the floor, his legs pulled up to his chest. He braced his forehead on his knees and squeezed his eyes tight, but the tears wouldn't stop.

No.

Shoving the desperation and hopelessness back, Will forced himself to lift his head and swipe furiously at his face.

Crying is for wimps, and wimps have no use in this world.

Swallowing his tears, he pushed himself up into a standing position, then straightened and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a broom and starting to sweep the mess of glass into a pile. He knew exactly where to step, where to place the broom. He'd done this thousands of times before, just not in this house.

This was supposed to be different. Better. The therapist said there would be no more broken bottles or bloody hands, no more shouting or threats...

Will swallowed hard, stopping for a moment before yanking out his earbuds and drowning himself in Twenty-one Pilots.

"I know where you stand, silent in the trees..."

Suddenly, he thought of a bright smile and sorta-dark brown hair, bright blue eyes and a matter-of-fact voice. He paused the sweeping again and leaned on the broom.

"Why won't you speak? Where I happen to be silent in the trees, standing cowardly..."

Will shook his head, as if trying to snap himself out of a strange trance. "Stop it," he said aloud, slamming the broom into the ground with enough force to splinter a shard of glass.

Ash obviously wanted to be his friend, and had evidently decided to pursue it more than anyone else had ever tried. It was a strange feeling, to know that there was someone who was so cheerful and bubbly and yet wanted to be with someone like him, someone ornery and grumpy and dark.

"I know where you stand..."

Will inhaled a deep breath. He knew exactly what his type was, what he thought was attractive.

Short.

Check.

Dark-ish hair, preferably brown.

Bingo.

Blue eyes, deep. Holds secrets.

Hmm....yes.

Doesn't seem to care if I don't want to be around people.

Had he really made this list only knowing Riley? The two were entirely different people, and yet Ash and Riley could have been twins. Riley's hair had been much darker, more of a deep black than a brown, and his eyes were green, not blue, but the boy had been almost as tall as Ash and just as bubbly.

And then his dad had hit him with a car.

He claimed it was an accident, but it had been mere hours after Will had come out to him and introduced Riley to him. And now Riley was lying in a wooden box, several feet below the surface of the earth, and his father was in prison for years and years because he said he "didn't mean to hit him."

Will had screamed at him, screamed and sobbed and demanded the judge throw him in there for life, but the judge just said that he was biased. What Will didn't understand was how in the world he could be biased if he wanted his dad to stay in for life over his boyfriend.

What terrified him the most was that once his dad got out of prison, he might have to go back to him, might have to return to the shouts and rants and midnights when he dragged Will out of bed and screamed at him that the reason Jessica had left him was because of Will.

The song ended and switched to a new one, and Will shook himself out of his thoughts. Feeling sorry for himself would get him nowhere, so there was no use. He swept the rest of the glass into the pile and then scooped them into the dustpan, tossing them in the trash before grabbing his jacket and shrugging it on, snatching the car keys from the counter as he passed and shoving them into his pocket.

He needed a break.

~ ~ ~

"Idiot. Why do I even have a son if you're just going to mess up every single minute?"

The memory of Daniel's hand across Ash's face was fresh, and he winced, poking at the bruise it had left in the mirror of the public bathroom at the park. It was deserted now, the swings abandoned and the slide standing defiantly against the sharp, biting wind.

It didn't look like a hand shape...he could probably pass it off as hitting himself in the face with a basketball or something.

Ash rubbed his cheek, grimacing at the pain. "Goddammit..." he muttered, wiping at his face.

"Goddamn what?"

The voice made him spin around, his eyes going wide.

Will stood in the doorway to the public bathroom, his hands shoved into his pockets and his dark, blue-streaked black hair blowing in the wind. For once, his hood wasn't pulled up, and Ash could see his chiseled jawline, his golden-tan skin that had not yet been dulled by the sun-less nature of this place, his deep, dark gray eyes.

"I hit myself in the face with a basketball," Ash lied, plastering a grin on his face, indicating his bruise. "Practicing for the unit. Not a good idea, for someone as uncoordinated as me."

Will arched a brow. "Why basketball?"

"What?"

"I said, why do you want to do basketball? You're too short to be of any use to a team."

Ash laughed. "I know. I just don't want to be totally unaware of what's going on when they start trying to teach us."

"Hmmm." Will didn't seem to particularly care, pulling out his phone and scrolling through something. He stopped, his finger stalling on the screen, and something in his expression changed. He shoved his phone back into his pocket, his eyes colder than they were before.

"What are you doing here," he deadpanned.

"Talking to you," Ash said, leaning against the sink and trying for an uncaring smile.

"Doesn't it hurt," Will said, "smiling all the time? If you never frown, then you're never excising those muscles. Therefore, that part of your face is way less fit than the other parts of your face."

Ash blinked, then burst out laughing. Will looked faintly amused, but he didn't crack a smile.

"I didn't know your face could get fit," Ash wheezed. "That makes no sense."

Will sighed, turning to go.

"Wait!" Ash called, and Will paused, glancing over his shoulder.

"I lost my phone. I think it's somewhere around here. Could I borrow yours really quick?"

Will rolled his eyes, but pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to him. Ash grinned. "Thanks."

He turned it on, and the first thing he saw was a photo that was obviously Will and another boy, but Will looked entirely different. He was grinning and wearing a light blue t-shirt instead of the dark jackets he'd worn every time Ash had seen him. He had an arm around the other boy's shoulders.

The other boy only came up to Will's shoulder, and his raven-black hair was ruffled by Will's chin. He was laughing, as if they'd just shared a hilarious joke.

"Who's that?" Ash asked, looking up.

Will blinked, then glanced at his phone. His eyes went wide, and he grabbed his phone back, his face suddenly furious.

"Why were you looking at that?" he snapped. "Don't you know what privacy is?"

"Well, yeah, but--"

"You said you needed to call your phone, not snoop through my pictures!" His eyes were narrowed into slits, and Ash shrank back, his heart thudding.

"I didn't--"

"It doesn't matter," Will growled, backing away. "I don't even care. Just--leave me alone."

"Will--" Ash began, wanting to suddenly comfort him, even if he had no idea how, but the other boy was already gone, disappeared into the wind.

- - - - - - -

What'd you think of this chapter?

I'm introducing a new character next chapter. Let me know what you think. Vote and comment!

Should I do more backstory on Will and Riley?

Q: Irrational fears?

A: Dogs, the beach, and basketball. Ugh.