Ao3 story (Why would you ever kiss me)

Part 17

Will was wiping tears from his eyes the moment he was out of El's hospital room. Everytime he thought that things had become the worst that they possibly could, he was proven wrong by yet another thing. How was he supposed to fix this? He felt disgusting. He'd always been uncomfortable in his skin, but now that he was literally in someone else's it was baffling to discover that he was much more uncomfortable in this one.

He could've kissed me. He could've kissed me just then. And it would've happened. I would've let it happen. I shouldn't want that. Mike doesn't want that. There is not a single version of reality where he would ever want that. He's not like me.

Will wasn't looking where he was going, so when he accidentally shoved someone else as he stormed through the hallway, he said a quick sorry. But whoever it was, caught up to him and grabbed his arm. This was understandably startling.

"El? Are you okay? Did something happen with Will?"

It was Jonathan.

The moment Will recognized his brother, he crashed into him, hugging him hard enough to break ribs. And he cried. It felt like he hadn't seen him in days.

"El?" Jonathan seemed a bit winded by the unexpected embrace, his voice carrying a note of worry, but he eventually wrapped his arms around his little brother in disguise. "What's wrong?"

Will looked up at him, barely able to make out his brother's features through the haze of his tears.

"C-can I talk to you?" Will asked, voice breaking.

"Yeah. Of course."

Will pulled him into an alcove in the hallway and tried to catch his breath before speaking. I can tell him now. Nothing is stopping me.

But the words couldn't come out. He could only cry.

"El?"

"N-no. You said that I could t-talk to you about anything. I just don't know h-how to say it. I-I've just felt so alone..."

Will glanced up at his brother, then to the floor, mouth pressing into a watery line. I can't do this. I can't do this. He stared down at his feet, pivoting the sole of his shoe against the floor tiles. When he started to feel light-headed, he realized that he was hyperventilating.

Jonathan was in front of him, trying to figure out what was wrong with him. Will knew his brother was looking at him, waiting for a sign to show him that everything was okay. But Will felt like he couldn't see anything. Like nothing was real. Nothing would ever be real. That the world was falling apart and he was in the middle of it all. That nothing would be the same. Everything is ruined. Telling him the truth won't change that. I'm in love with someone who thinks I'm someone else. Someone who's in a coma. My sister. She's... she's....

The feeling of friction against his feet and a firm pressure around his arm brought him back to the present moment. Jonathan was pulling him down the hallway and into the elevator, determination written on his features.

"W-where—"

"I think we both need a little fresh air." Jonathan was winded too, quite possibly a little panicked as well. His eyes were less red than they were before, but it was clear he'd been recently crying.

Will nodded along. Fresh air sounded nice. Better than the recycled air that ran through the hospital. Everytime he breathed in, he wondered if he was breathing in someone else's last breath. And of course that didn't help him breathe easier. Maybe he shouldn't think about that.

But this hospital was completely stifling, and it reminded him of all of the worst places he'd been. Like always, he and his brother were on the same wavelength. Jonathan didn't like this place either.