A World Turned Upside Down: A Will X Reader X Mike (ST)

We're All Argumentative Here

Joyce
While Lonnie is in the shower, I dig through his bag and find a blue slip of paper in his wallet. I unfold it and look it over.

Kᴏʜɴᴇʀ
ʟᴀᴡ ᴏꜰꜰɪᴄᴇs & ᴘᴀʀᴀʟᴇɢᴀʟ sᴇʀᴠɪᴄᴇs
ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ɪɴᴊᴜʀʏ ᴏʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ
ʟᴇᴛ ᴜs ꜰɪɢʜᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ

Etcetera, etcetera. So, that's what he's here for? Just for the money? I guess I should've known from the beginning. He wouldn't give a crap about his son going missing. There's always something in it for him.

.^.^.^.^.

"You were here for the money!" I yell at Lonnie when he gets out of the shower.

"No!"

"The money!" I shove him. "Admit it! You weren't here 'cause of Will! You never cared about him! You never did!"

"Jesus, Joyce, it was his funeral today. Do we have to do this right now?"

"I can't believe I fell for this!"

"I'm here to help, Joyce."

"To help?"

"We could use that money for good."

"Oh, like, maybe to pay off your debts?"

"To pay for Jonathan to go to school!"

"Oh, don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Lie to me!"

"I'm not lying to you!"

"Yeah, well, where does he want to go? Huh?"

"What?"

"Where does Jonathan want to go to college?"

"We get that money, anywhere he damn well pleases!"

"NYU, Lonnie! He's wanted to go to NYU since he was six years old!"

"Then he goes to NYU!"

"Get out. Get out!"

"You need me here, Joyce."

"Oh, brother, I have not needed you for a long time!"

"Oh, no? Look what happened."

"Don't you dare. At least I was here!"

"Oh, come on, Joyce! Just look around this place. All your Christmas lights. What the hell am I supposed to think? You're such a great mom? You're a mess."

"Maybe I am a mess. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe I'm out of my mind! But God help me, I will keep these lights up till the day I die if I think there's a chance that Will's still out there." I shove his bag into him. "But get out! Get out of my house!"

Nancy
I pull a bat off the rack and practice swinging it. I swing harder and harder each time. I have to be prepared for when I fight this thing.

By the time I take my third swing, I hear someone exclaiming defensively {I don't know give me a break} and turn around to see Steve standing in front of me. The last person I need to see right now.

"What are you doing here?" I ask breathlessly.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Nothing," I shrug.

"I hope that's not meant for me," he says, gesturing to my bat.

"What? No. Oh, no, I was just . . . thinking about joining softball," I lie.