[ Will's nodding too. His own sense of anxiety, kicked up in response to the tension he can feel but can't quite explain, settles down to a low simmer. ]
I— see too much. Of other people. Back home, I either— freaked them out, or freaked myself out. Knowing things people don't want you to know doesn't really make them like you. And it's...distracting. [ It's more than just distracting. Will's breath fogs the air in front of himself while he hesitates. Kids see a lot of shit that adults don't give them credit for — this one doubly so, it seems. But Will's still trying to figure out what's too much and what's enough to share. ]
...It was scary. [ Is what he settles on, and he's stunned by how such a simple sentence makes him feel better to say. ] And it's still like that here, but people don't seem to...be as bothered.
...people get scared when they can't keep secrets. [will says it very softly, shoulders bowing in, head lowered.] And when people are scared...they're mean.
I didn't want to scare people. Or, I mean...I think they were scared of how different I was. Am. [he pauses, looks up at the man with silently beseeching eyes.] You know?
[ Once again, Will's impressed by how thoughtfully perceptive the other is. He's reminded — not wholly, but in small ways like this — of himself at his age. Will nods along to the observations until he's given a question. He nods. ] Yeah. I know. People are scared of what they can't understand. [ And sometimes what they can understand, but that's always seemed like more of a Will-problem. ]
Did you want to keep your secret? Because I can't— guess what it is, actually.
Or did you want to tell me? [ Will's tone is neutral; he doesn't want to sound like he's threatening or pleading, but if this is helpful— ]
[will looks a little bit surprised by the neutral way the man is approaching the question. most adults would've given up by this point and just flat-out demanded a straight answer. he's not used to people who take the time to let him talk in circles.
maybe it's sleep deprivation, or the wind in the trees or -- something else entirely. but will tucks his hands in his pockets and looks straight ahead, and he's about to talk about the monsters and the upside-down and the mind flayer but what comes out instead is:]
My dad used to call me stuff. When he lived with us. Really bad things, and I didn't think they were true for a really long time, and I told everyone they weren't true, but...but they might be true. And I don't know what to do.
[ Oh. Will doesn't need to check the other's expression to paint a vivid picture of what that kind of home must have looked like. Nervous and flighty but-- painfully trusting, it's difficult not to think of how resilient children are. And how they don't often make for balanced teenagers.
But there's a small mystery here. Will hears 'my dad used to call me stuff' and he can think of dozens of words - stupid, bad, ugly, maybe even tainted - but not all of those translate to something that he'd think are...true. Unless it's about the ambiguous literal monster in the other's past? Will mulls it over, unwittingly drawn into the situation deeper just to try to find the answer he's initially missing. ]
You mean, you think-- something might be wrong with you? [ He's not quite getting it, his tone confused in a cautious way - Will's not happy to have this conversation, but it is important, and he won't stop asking until he's given plenty of signs that the other's done with the topic. ]
[will's shoulders are drawn up close to his ears, like he's even now trying to disappear in on himself. his expression stays blank -- detaching, disassociating from what he's saying. it's less painful that way, like he's talking about someone else.
even his voice is neutral, as it says:] Yeah. He'd say stop -- stop acting like such a little queer, stop being such a fag about it, why don't you grow up... [he trails off, looking up at the man for a moment, that haunted, hollow look back in his eyes.]
[ Hearing the echo aches, and Will wasn't expecting it until it happens, until the words are coming out of a teenager's mouth.
He actually has nothing that's quite-- touching that, in his personal history. Will's got all sorts of fears about being outed as not normal, as something abhorrent, but those are for real-world reasons: murderers go to jail, being insane is dangerous to people and gets you locked away. But Will doesn't fear being ostracized for things that aren't dangerous (or illegal).
This is entirely the other's burden. And Will feels a rush of anger that isn't helpful to either of them right now, even as it turns down the corners of his mouth and tenses his shoulders. ] I see.
[ And he sees what else is being said here. If the other's worried that his dad was right, then... Will takes a deep breath. Makes sure he doesn't stray further from Will's side, makes sure he doesn't shy away at all. ] So you already noticed that most people here don't-- mind, uh. People being gay. [ This is so far from anything Will's ever had to concern himself about. He's not entirely sure how to have this conversation, all he knows is it's important that he doesn't leave this alone to keep festering. Not if the other's talking to him about it. ]
cw: homophobia/child abuse for like the whole thread tbh
[will is still watching sideways, waiting for the man to -- recoil, move away, make some excuse to leave. most people do. even if they say it's okay, they still do, once they know. they don't know how to handle it, how to handle him.
but the man doesn't. his shoulders go tense, and will's tense in response, but the voice is calm. the voice is still so calm.
the comment gets a shrug, and will looks down at his feet, kicks a rock down the street in front of them.] I know it's different, where most people are from. [it's an unspoken, but clear delineation: it's okay for them, but not for him.]
[ Will's not really good at-- any of this. Comforting. Talking to people younger than himself. Talking about prejudices and sexuality in any meaningful, nuanced way.
But maybe that's not really what's needed here, anyway. This isn't happening in a lecture hall. Will takes a deep breath and lets it out through his nose. And then, carefully, hyper-aware of any signs that might be given that Will ought to not try this, he reaches out his closer hand to rest it on the other's shoulder.
Which is awkward while walking, admittedly, but Will wants to make sure the other doesn't feel-- tainted. Contagious, impure, anything that might make him an untouchable other. ] It's okay to be that way where you're from, too.
Adults are wrong all the time. [ A loose translation: fuck your dad, he sounds like a dick. ]
[the touch to his shoulder makes will flinch a little, but it's mostly out of surprise -- he'd expected a lot of things, but definitely not a comforting, reassuring touch. in fact, he would've sooner anticipated the man leaving as soon as he could, making some excuse to get far away.
instead there's a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, warm and solid and -- real. will blinks a couple times, looking over and making eye contact for the first time.]
It's...it isn't just adults, it...everyone says...I mean...
How do you know it's okay? [his voice breaks a little on the last word, faint and small.]
Because there's no reason it shouldn't be. It's just a— preference, and the Bible verse people usually quote doesn't even— [ Will sighs. Semantics is probably not what's needed, even if he's capable of playing that game with several topics. Besides...Will hadn't really cared aside from a largely-academic sense of being correct in not caring, until recently.
Until recently.
This kid's worried his dad was right about this being something that was wrong with him. Will's silent for a little longer, stewing over his own tangled emotions. Finally he settles on a blurted, ] I'm, um. With someone. Romantically. [ Will physically can't bring himself to say the word 'bisexual' out loud. It's too surreal, was never a part of himself, but he wants to give the implicit solidarity that the story attached to it might offer. ]
A guy. Here in Deerington. It's not-- It doesn't say anything about me. Just like it wouldn't say anything about you.
[the sudden confession -- it sounds like that, it sounds like something given in secret, and it startles will enough that he stumbles a little as he walks, looking up at the man with wide eyes.
the words sink in for a moment, before will manages:] Aren't you scared? I mean...have you ever been...scared? Of what people might think?
[ Isn't he scared? Will's expression is the calm after a sudden sadness, surprised right out of feeling his own trepidation too forcefully. ] No. No, the only thing I was scared about was— hurting him. I've never...been attracted to men before. This is new for me too. But I was too busy worrying about if we would work, to get scared about what other people might think.
[ A beat. ] Probably would have realized I liked men sooner if back home didn't have its own lingering— ideas. Prejudices. [ It's odd to think about this while on the other side of the discussion. It's still foreign to Will, and he realizes this isn't the ideal person to unload on, but if honesty helps, he'll carefully wade through his own (brief, so very brief) experience to try to hand some over. ]
If anyone you knew from back home ever finds out and isn't okay with it— it just means they've got their own growing to do. Not that they're right.
...are you still scared? [because the man had said was, and there's a sudden hungry hope in will's eyes at that. the idea that the fear, the anxiety, the unknowing might someday be over is -- more than he'd let himself dream of.]
Oh. People still aren't okay with it? Even...when you're from? [he's assuming that everyone's from later than him, unless they're in specific period clothing.]
[ Will doesn't rush to give the reassuring answer he can tell the other's waiting on. But after a moment of genuine reflection, he shakes his head. ] No. I'm not. [ Which is...more than enough specificity for reassuring someone barely out of his preteen years that yeah, Will's definitely certain about his sexuality now.
Oh. Right. Will also weighs his response here, and settles on, ] It's protected legally. And most people your age and a bit older don't care. But views don't change...overnight.
...good. [will offers a little quirk of a smile, hands buried in his pockets. he veers close enough to nudge his elbow against the man's, barely there, just a quick gentle point of contact.] There's enough to be scared of here.
...legally. [that part's good at least. if something's in the law, it's so -- or, at least, will is still young enough to believe that.] So people who...people like that can...just. Be normal? Where anyone can see?
[ Will's not expecting the little brush of contact, and it catches him off-guard in a vulnerable way first; mouth parted, eyes wide, expression entirely too touched for an adult to be telegraphing. He swallows but smiles genuinely afterwards while he collects his expression back up off the ground. ]
More or less. [ Will's not...going to get into hate crimes still existing. It doesn't seem overly relevant here, and until he knows for sure this kid's coming back into the year 2015 with Will, Will's going to omit some things for simplicity's sake. --But. But there's one thing Will considers and then adds, as a very true potential spot of hope: ] People like that can even get married. [ And then a brief shrug, because he is still ultimately talking to a teenage boy. ] If they want to.
[will's eyebrows fly up, shocked at the very notion -- though it's unclear if he's overwhelmed by the idea of boys marrying boys, or just marriage in general.]
Really? That's allowed? [he stares off into the distance, clearly imagining something. then his ears turn pink and he ducks his head, shrugging like it doesn't matter.] That's cool I guess.
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wontgraham) wrote2019-04-10 08:46 pm
no subject
I— see too much. Of other people. Back home, I either— freaked them out, or freaked myself out. Knowing things people don't want you to know doesn't really make them like you. And it's...distracting. [ It's more than just distracting. Will's breath fogs the air in front of himself while he hesitates. Kids see a lot of shit that adults don't give them credit for — this one doubly so, it seems. But Will's still trying to figure out what's too much and what's enough to share. ]
...It was scary. [ Is what he settles on, and he's stunned by how such a simple sentence makes him feel better to say. ] And it's still like that here, but people don't seem to...be as bothered.
no subject
I didn't want to scare people. Or, I mean...I think they were scared of how different I was. Am. [he pauses, looks up at the man with silently beseeching eyes.] You know?
no subject
Did you want to keep your secret? Because I can't— guess what it is, actually.
Or did you want to tell me? [ Will's tone is neutral; he doesn't want to sound like he's threatening or pleading, but if this is helpful— ]
cw: homophobia/child abuse
maybe it's sleep deprivation, or the wind in the trees or -- something else entirely. but will tucks his hands in his pockets and looks straight ahead, and he's about to talk about the monsters and the upside-down and the mind flayer but what comes out instead is:]
My dad used to call me stuff. When he lived with us. Really bad things, and I didn't think they were true for a really long time, and I told everyone they weren't true, but...but they might be true. And I don't know what to do.
cw: homophobia/child abuse
But there's a small mystery here. Will hears 'my dad used to call me stuff' and he can think of dozens of words - stupid, bad, ugly, maybe even tainted - but not all of those translate to something that he'd think are...true. Unless it's about the ambiguous literal monster in the other's past? Will mulls it over, unwittingly drawn into the situation deeper just to try to find the answer he's initially missing. ]
You mean, you think-- something might be wrong with you? [ He's not quite getting it, his tone confused in a cautious way - Will's not happy to have this conversation, but it is important, and he won't stop asking until he's given plenty of signs that the other's done with the topic. ]
cw: homophobia/child abuse/homophobic slurs
even his voice is neutral, as it says:] Yeah. He'd say stop -- stop acting like such a little queer, stop being such a fag about it, why don't you grow up... [he trails off, looking up at the man for a moment, that haunted, hollow look back in his eyes.]
Like that. See?
cw: homophobia/child abuse/homophobic slurs, insanity/institutionalization mention
He actually has nothing that's quite-- touching that, in his personal history. Will's got all sorts of fears about being outed as not normal, as something abhorrent, but those are for real-world reasons: murderers go to jail, being insane is dangerous to people and gets you locked away. But Will doesn't fear being ostracized for things that aren't dangerous (or illegal).
This is entirely the other's burden. And Will feels a rush of anger that isn't helpful to either of them right now, even as it turns down the corners of his mouth and tenses his shoulders. ] I see.
[ And he sees what else is being said here. If the other's worried that his dad was right, then... Will takes a deep breath. Makes sure he doesn't stray further from Will's side, makes sure he doesn't shy away at all. ] So you already noticed that most people here don't-- mind, uh. People being gay. [ This is so far from anything Will's ever had to concern himself about. He's not entirely sure how to have this conversation, all he knows is it's important that he doesn't leave this alone to keep festering. Not if the other's talking to him about it. ]
cw: homophobia/child abuse for like the whole thread tbh
but the man doesn't. his shoulders go tense, and will's tense in response, but the voice is calm. the voice is still so calm.
the comment gets a shrug, and will looks down at his feet, kicks a rock down the street in front of them.] I know it's different, where most people are from. [it's an unspoken, but clear delineation: it's okay for them, but not for him.]
cw: homophobia/child abuse
But maybe that's not really what's needed here, anyway. This isn't happening in a lecture hall. Will takes a deep breath and lets it out through his nose. And then, carefully, hyper-aware of any signs that might be given that Will ought to not try this, he reaches out his closer hand to rest it on the other's shoulder.
Which is awkward while walking, admittedly, but Will wants to make sure the other doesn't feel-- tainted. Contagious, impure, anything that might make him an untouchable other. ] It's okay to be that way where you're from, too.
Adults are wrong all the time. [ A loose translation: fuck your dad, he sounds like a dick. ]
cw: homophobia/child abuse
instead there's a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, warm and solid and -- real. will blinks a couple times, looking over and making eye contact for the first time.]
It's...it isn't just adults, it...everyone says...I mean...
How do you know it's okay? [his voice breaks a little on the last word, faint and small.]
cw: homophobia/child abuse
Until recently.
This kid's worried his dad was right about this being something that was wrong with him. Will's silent for a little longer, stewing over his own tangled emotions. Finally he settles on a blurted, ] I'm, um. With someone. Romantically. [ Will physically can't bring himself to say the word 'bisexual' out loud. It's too surreal, was never a part of himself, but he wants to give the implicit solidarity that the story attached to it might offer. ]
A guy. Here in Deerington. It's not-- It doesn't say anything about me. Just like it wouldn't say anything about you.
no subject
the words sink in for a moment, before will manages:] Aren't you scared? I mean...have you ever been...scared? Of what people might think?
no subject
[ A beat. ] Probably would have realized I liked men sooner if back home didn't have its own lingering— ideas. Prejudices. [ It's odd to think about this while on the other side of the discussion. It's still foreign to Will, and he realizes this isn't the ideal person to unload on, but if honesty helps, he'll carefully wade through his own (brief, so very brief) experience to try to hand some over. ]
If anyone you knew from back home ever finds out and isn't okay with it— it just means they've got their own growing to do. Not that they're right.
no subject
Oh. People still aren't okay with it? Even...when you're from? [he's assuming that everyone's from later than him, unless they're in specific period clothing.]
no subject
Oh. Right. Will also weighs his response here, and settles on, ] It's protected legally. And most people your age and a bit older don't care. But views don't change...overnight.
no subject
...legally. [that part's good at least. if something's in the law, it's so -- or, at least, will is still young enough to believe that.] So people who...people like that can...just. Be normal? Where anyone can see?
no subject
More or less. [ Will's not...going to get into hate crimes still existing. It doesn't seem overly relevant here, and until he knows for sure this kid's coming back into the year 2015 with Will, Will's going to omit some things for simplicity's sake. --But. But there's one thing Will considers and then adds, as a very true potential spot of hope: ] People like that can even get married. [ And then a brief shrug, because he is still ultimately talking to a teenage boy. ] If they want to.
no subject
Really? That's allowed? [he stares off into the distance, clearly imagining something. then his ears turn pink and he ducks his head, shrugging like it doesn't matter.] That's cool I guess.