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William didn't want to go home.

Sure, it might have been raining and he might have been really cold, but he'd rather catch pneumonia than step foot back into that house.

It had only been a few hours since he'd come out. Thanksgiving dinner, all the family he could think of, no better time to severely disappoint everyone in his general vicinity. Was it the best idea? Probably not, but William was never too good at being smart.

22, defeated, drenched and cold. That's just how it was.

The street was quiet, so at least William could mentally beat himself up in peace. Though, he wasn't really feeling much at the moment. There was no internal hatred, no, just numb and the faint feeling that he'd never be home again. He couldn't hate himself for that, he just had to hate everyone else. A part of him wished he would've gotten it over with when he was younger, that way he'd be over it by now and Gabe wouldn't be in New York and maybe his fingers wouldn't be losing their feeling, but this was it. This was what he'd done, and he'd have to face it.

He texted Gabe a few hours ago, but it never even went through, so William did what he does best, ran from his problems. He could've ran from his problems with a coat or some gloves, but no, he had to suffer in it's full effect.

With his hands feverishly running up and down his bare arms, he shook under the glow of a streetlight. He wasn't far away, just far enough to not see his old house. Old house. That's what it was. He didn't have to keep his ties there anymore, he had his own place with Gabe downtown, the suburbs weren't his home anymore. No, this place was no longer his.

It didn't even hurt. Looking at the lake where he and his cousins used to play terrible renditions of ice hockey, he didn't feel a thing. He could see all the times he got shoved to the ice with a tad too much force as a little kid, he could see the confused seventeen year old sitting there, staring at the sky like it held the answers for what he felt.

Watching the headlights as they sped down the street, his jaw clenched tight, he could see the first time he'd ever driven a car. A squirrel ran across the road and William braked so hard that his dad smacked him directly on the face. That wasn't fun.

William craned his head up, the sky dark and the rain starting to feel like pins. The first night William snuck out of his house was a lot like this, rainy and cold. Sisky and Carden were going downtown to see Pete and his band, William's ticket was free, so he had to go. After his parents disapproval, he carefully avoided all the creaky stairs and floorboards before slipping out the back door. The show was great, Pete had invited them all out to trash a hotel room, which was probably one of the best nights William had ever experienced. He arrived home at 4am, sneaking through the back door again and coming face first with his father in the kitchen.

Closing his eyes, he could feel the busted lip.

He dropped his head and he was back, but there were tears and he didn't want to admit to himself that things had been that bad. The sound of the rain against the sidewalk wasn't nearly enough to muffle the sobs that came from his chest. Shaky, so shaky, hands gripping his hair and–

"William Beckett, where the fuck are you?!"

For a second, William was sure he was hearing things. He was so far dug into this pit of misery, he needed Gabe so bad he must've just imagined him here, imagined him anywhere closer than where he was. William cried harder, arms wrapped tight around his soaked jeans.

"I'm going to kick your ass if I can't- fuck! Bill, come on!"

No, that was Gabe. William picked his head up, hair in his face but that didn't matter, he needed to find that voice. Wiping his eyes, he tried to get up as fast as he could but ended up slipping, probably fucking something up but he had to run.