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This is so sweet of you, thank you! Hope you enjoy, you know how much I like Will... ;)

Is there anything left for us? || Will (Salad Days) || (1/2)

Will x Reader

Warnings: nsfw, swearing, angst, mention of alcohol, smut Summary: You've been struggling with your feelings for Will for years. Then he calls you after the worst mistake of his life and you feel the world crumble around you. A/N: I'm trying something that has been going around in my mind for quite sometimes. Please see it more as an essay about Salad Days and my vision of Will. Sorry for the length... I just wanted to share my love for this short that I find very good, story wise, many included arcs so it give Will reasons and depth for his actions. It was just so good. I realise that my writing are not for everyone. In any case, part one is more to be seen as an "essay" about the character, but part 2 is more story inclined.

You missed him, but over the years, you had learned to get used to it.

Will had always been a lone wolf kind of guy, and when he disappeared like that you knew that it was because he didn't want to be bothered, or to be found. You tried to respect that at most of your capacities, to give him the space he needed to deal with whatever he had going on.

Even back in high school when you watched him from afar, the cocky guy at the back of the class with his group of troublesome friends, you could see how much he felt rejected, out of place. It was no secret that he had complicated family issues and he hated it when people brought it up. So no one dared to. Only when you befriended him during the last year of high school did you realise how complicated it truly was.

He didn't know his father, and what happened with his mum was a mystery to everyone. Ever since that time, he had lived with his grandmother and you had never seen Will care for someone as much as he cared for her. It was touching and sweet, making you wonder if his nan was the only family affection he had ever known. If he were to lose her, he would be alone.

There was that eagerness within him, the one that craved affection, the one that longed to erase this feeling of loneliness that weighed inside of him. You witnessed it with the girls he fell for every once in a while, in the fleeting relationships and obsessions he experienced with the occasional gal, and each time it ended badly, because Will was Will: wild, hot-blooded and strong-willed.

But he was the most resourceful man you've ever encountered, always finding solutions, always taking advantage of what he thought he could, and always taking the lead when needed to. You admired that in him, this raw strength smothering his weaknesses, heightening his confidence, but sometimes you feared that his habit to always act with his head down first would play to his disadvantage one day. Because where he could be shy at times, often keeping to himself when he felt he did not have the upper hand, he could also be as keen to make rash decisions, his pride and stubbornness taking the better of him. And sometimes it affected the people around him.

And that included Leah. And you.

In high school you have always regarded Will, Matt, and Tom as the troublesome trio, so in the last year when Leah, your best friend, got close to Matt, all that was left for you to do was to follow. You became the added part of the group, doomed to see how all the boys would find Leah endearing and sweet, whereas you tried to remain unimpressed by them and wary of their actions because you were “stubborn as hell”, as Leah often put it. But the more Matt and your friend grew close over the years, the more you warmed up to them, finding them sympathetic, nice and caring. And definitely funny. And you liked to believe that they liked you as well.

It was around that time that you came to know Will better and realise everything he was carrying on his shoulders, too heavy for him to handle for someone so young. You could see it in the way he avoided some topics in conversations, how he sometimes paced around a room without paying any mind to his friends, or how sulky he seemed to become every time you all talked about the future or how a member of your family had reacted to this or that.

It attracted you somehow, this double side of his. The strong, tall, and proud man he was versus the reserved one with anguish, hidden behind the boiling rage he displayed at times. So you opened up to him, more than to the others, your heart desperate to know his, to see if you could do anything to help him, to make him feel like he didn't need to prove anything to anyone. At first he was surprised that a girl like you, all serious and phlegmatic, would take an interest in him, but you had some humour in you and he did find you funny. Besides, you didn't take any shit from anyone, especially from the guys, and neither did Leah, shutting down each time they teased both of you or made gruesome jokes you were not very fond of. But each time, Will or Matt would stop, seeing that you were not very receptive and proceed to do something you liked, right before you would tease them back, surprising them and making them laugh as well. Your coldness toward them slowly thawed within months.

You liked to believe Will admired that in you too, how you were able to put them off this easily.

High school ended and everybody stuck around; none of you were willing to venture out and all of you had a project of your own. You knew the guys were applying for several jobs, Leah had found one in a fish and chips for a while, whereas you would take online classes and tutoring students on the side.

And as your group grew forever closer, trying for your part to see through Will as much as you could over time, slowly but surely, you were doomed to see how his eyes shifted whenever he would look at your best friend.

It was so obvious you wondered why Matt hadn't noticed it before, even back in high school. Matt and Leah had got together right after the end of the year, and you believed that only Will’s well-hidden insecurities had prevented him from going after Leah first. Or maybe he knew that his friend had liked her for a long time and chose not to interfere, you didn't know. Still, you could see how Will would look away or look too intensely when Matt and Leah were together, holding hands or kissing, and only you and Tom would joke about it. Not Will. Never Will.

More often than not, it would only be you and Will; Matt and Leah would be off together, having some alone time, and Tom would be off with his family. You would go to his place, talk with his nan, give her news about Leah and your friends, about your family, and then spend time with Will, reminiscing about high school or talking about your lives. You had a lot in common, from playing video games you both like to make fun of the dumb British celebrities on reality shows, even sometimes organising a contest of darts in his basement. You, always so confident that you would win, versus Will, being exactly the same. It always ended similarly, a tied game, as you both were equally stubborn.

When you were still at your parent’s, he would often ditch your group when you invited the whole of them but did not come, and you wondered if it was too hard for Will to be inside of a happy home, one he did not have. But you quickly abandoned this theory, because when you invited Will to come over when the rest was not around, he always came, spending whole afternoons and evenings with you, for the greatest pleasure of your little sister that adored him. And you could not blame her. At nine years old, she would always come to him and he would always joke with her and carry her around, with a blush on her cheeks, and you would watch, their laughter warming your heart.

Now that you had your own flat, he still came, but less often. You and Leah knew the guys were always hanging out together, doing who knows what, but it didn’t prevent you from missing them dearly. Recently, Matt and Leah had gone through a rough patch, and you had to admit that you had feared for their relationship more than once in the past couple of weeks. You didn’t want your friend to be miserable, and you would do what you could to prevent that.

This is why the bonfire party from three weeks ago had been a relief to you, happy to finally see all of your group together again at the rim of the forest outside of the city, perched on the hills where you could watch the stars and make as much noise as you wanted. But as the night went on and the alcohol claimed your blood, you hadn’t expected Leah and Matt to argue again in the middle of it all, and more importantly, you hadn’t expected for yourself to have an argument with him, for the first time of your life.

The words he had shot at you still rang in your ears, as yours felt like poison, something not of your own but that you have uttered nonetheless. He had come to you with worries about Leah again, about how unhappy she seemed to be, and you couldn’t help it. All you heard in his worries was his own hope that they would grow apart, and this time you had been unable to hide your jealousy, ignoring him and growling in annoyance. When he asked what was wrong with you, you only lied to him and assured him that you were fine. But he didn’t like that.

“You always fucking do that, try to pretend like nothing bothers you but it’s bullshit,” he had suddenly shouted, crushing his cigarette under his shoe. “What are you fucking afraid of exactly Y/N, hm? Maybe you should grow some and start telling me!”

You had turned around in shock, the alcohol and the weight in your heart heightening your frustration and anger.

“I’m not afraid of telling you anything! And you’re the one to talk, always hiding things, closing off to me. You hide more from me than I have ever hidden from you, don’t you dare think I don’t know that.”

You earned an annoyed from from Will, lined with guilt, his tongue running across his teeth while you waited for him to respond, to say anything.

“I get it, you don’t need to tell me anything, but don’t blame me for keeping things from you that hurts, because it does Will!” you had confessed with tears threatening to appear at the rim of your eyes. “Just… Just don’t even bother.”

And with that you had turned around toward the cars, clearly remembering the way Will’s arm had caught yours in an attempt to stop you, but you only ignored it and left the field, the party, and your friends behind.

The day after that, you learned everything from your phone call to Leah as she recounted this painful night to you in more detail, telling you how Matt had ignored her for most of the night before leaving, making her feel abandoned and alone. Then she told you that Will had been the one to come to her, to comfort her, and the knot in your stomach tightened. When you pressed a little, she shamefully confessed Will had kissed her.

You couldn’t say that you weren’t surprised, but you made a great effort not to let anything appear in your voice. She continued, telling you that she had pushed Will away as nicely as she could, that she felt awfully guilty, that Matt was all she cared about and that it all seemed like a blur to her. You tried to reassure her, telling her that it was not her fault, that it meant nothing along as apologising for not being there for her when it happened. In your upset state, you hadn’t been able to stay, and you now regretted that you hadn’t. You would make it up to her, bury those feelings that clung to your heart and tried to ignore the pain you felt for Will at his rejection. Or was it your pain? You didn’t know.

Whatever happened seemed to have awoken something within Leah because two days later she was back with Matt, stronger than ever. Now it has been three weeks, and you have started a very busy week with work, three weeks without a word from Will. When you popped by Leah’s work when you could she would tell you that she had seen the three of your friends, and you tried not to ask about Will.

Two days later, Leah called and told you that she was pregnant. You congratulated her but you heard the anguish in her voice, so you tried to sooth her as much as you could. She would be all right, you knew it.

You wondered how Will had reacted.

Then it all escalated.

One minute you were working at home, trying to focus, the next you received a text from Will, breaking these three weeks of silence between the two of you:“Can you come get me Y/N please.”

You frown, heart beating because it was him, and because it was the last message you would have expected.

Where are you? you typed black.

Idk, somewhere near the bonfire’s place.

Memories of that night float back in your mind, anguish taking hold of you but you gathered yourself.

What are you doing there? you reply, heart beating.

I walked… just come Y/N please.

Will, what’s going on?

He didn’t answer. It was beginning to get dark outside, and you wondered what the hell he was doing, walking all the way up there. Part of you did not want to find out, but it was Will, and he never asked for anything, or very rarely. It did not matter how you felt, or how you two had left things off. All that mattered was that he was your friend and he was asking for your help.

So you shot up from your chair, grabbed your keys and left your apartment.

When you arrived in the area, having called Will three times during your drive there, unanswered, it was almost dark and you could not see very far. But like drawn to something you could not see, you found him on the first path you turned to, ahead, near the trees, not far from where you both had that argument, near a fallen log. He was on the ground, head in his knees and you tried not to feel the uneasiness overtaking you. You see him acknowledge your car as you hesitate to turn the engine off, leaving your lights on and stopping right next to him, exiting the vehicle as you carefully watch him.

“Will? What the hell? What is going on?” you call, levelling with him. “Will?”

He didn’t answer, his nose buried in his sleeve and watching the void, glancing so briefly at you. You crouch down, raising a hand to cautiously put on his shoulder. You could sense the sorrow and the anguish from where you stood, and you grew worried for your friend. You never wanted to see him like this, never. Whatever it was, you would do anything to make it okay.

You lower your voice. “Will… talk to me.”

He meets your gaze, his blue eyes reddened by sorrow or anger. Unable to look at you more he withdraws his gaze at once, cracking under your eyes as he buries his head in his arms once more, a deep trembling sigh coming from him. You put both of your hands on his, coming closer, desperate to sooth him.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe.”

You hear him taking deep shaky breaths, steeling himself. You put your chin on his elbow that was supported by his knee, waiting for him, close enough now to notice the red marks that scorched his knuckles, the marks of a fight, something ugly, violent. What happened?

From your position you can feel how cold his hands are and you wonder how long he had been out there. You watch him through your eyelashes, breathing with him, stroking his skin with your thumb as you think fast, his hair tickling your face.

“Come on, let’s get you out of the cold,” you timidly suggest, not moving as you observe the way his chest heaves. Then he silently moves to get up and you give him space, leading him carefully to the passenger seat.

You had to swallow the worry in your throat. His gaze was less hooded, firmer, but still miles away from where you were. You open the door for him and take your place behind the wheel, watching him look miserable beside you.

“Ok, let’s get you home, then we’ll talk about this, yeah?”

You release the handbrake before he talks for the first time, his voice hoarse with his evident turmoil. “No, not there, not home. Anywhere else... Your place,” he said, and you stopped your movements, looking at him expectantly. “I just… I can’t go to her right now.”

You watched him for a moment longer before nodding silently, driving away. His cheeks were reddened by the biting cold outside and the warmth of his skin, riled up from his sorrow.

“Are you hurt?” you ask, eyes on the road.

You hear him click his tongue, shaking his head as he grabs his knuckles. “Nah…”

He takes his head in his hands again, passing his fingers in his hair before starting to rock his knee anxiously. He would do that when something was on his mind, but never with a shaking sigh.

“Why were you there?” you ask softly,taking the opportunity now that he seemed more responsive, even if it was just barely.

“I just walked… I didn’t care where. Didn’t want to be found.”

His last words were only whispered, and as you turned a corner to enter the city again, he dug himself back into the seat, putting his hood up and stilled, although his leg continued to bounce up and down.

You pulled onto your street and turned off the engine. “What happened Will…? You can talk to me. Please talk to me.”

He lowers his head, looking at the inside of his palms. You could not see his face, hidden by the hood. “I did sumethin’… I can’t take back.”

You swallow, turning to him. “Whatever it is, we’ll make it right. We’ve always handled ourselves. You and the guys always managed.”

Your words seemed to aggravate him, because he looked briefly in pain before getting out of the car, eager to get away.

When you reach your flat door without a word exchanged between you, trying to catch up with his agitated pace, he goes straight inside, going to the couch to sit in it, hood off and head entrapped in his hands again.

You were eager to take away his sorrow, but you can’t think of anything to say. You go grab some things in the bathroom and come back to sit on the couch next to him and take his bloodied hand. He doesn’t flinch at your touch at all, it seems to even ground him, his gaze now on how you disinfect the wounds and bandage each of his hands. His lips are drawn in a thin line, his breath heavy but less rattled.

It looks like it hurt, maybe he had fractured a bone you wondered, but he didn’t wince, didn’t make a sound. You do not let go of his hand at first, your way of telling him that you would take anything he was willing to give you. He caressed your hand back absent-mindedly in return, gaze lost at the motion before he sank into the couch.

“Don’t tell anyone I’m here,” he whispers.

“Why?”

He doesn’t respond at once, still looking miserable. “Just don’t Y/N, alright?” he snaps, his blue eyes reaching right through your soul, raising the fear in you.

“You’re gonna give me more than that, I want to help you.”

“You can’t help me.”

“Then why did you call me?"

Silence again, just him clenching his jaw and you searching his face thoroughly, for anything that he would let you see, to indicate what he needed. You knew him. Better than you would admit, and better than he realised. You just thought that he refused to acknowledge it.

“Because you would know where to find me. And that you wouldn’t judge me, or fucking push me away like everyone else did. At least that’s what I thought…”

“I won’t, okay? I won’t tell anyone you’re here, and I won’t push you away, never again,” you promise, your argument lingering between the two of you. “But I don’t want to see you like this, Will. It’s terrifying. Please talk to me.”

He looks at you with sorry eyes, almost desperate. “That’s exactly why I can’t tell you. Because you would be fucking terrified of me if I did. And I can’t have that. I fucking can’t have that.”

You frown again, parting your lips in dismay. You could never be afraid of him, it was Will, and you knew perfectly well what he was capable of. You have been ready for anything, all those years.

“Not a chance, Will. Look at me,” you ask, forcing him to level eyes with you by tugging on his arm, one side of your face resting on the back of the couch as he turned his own, inches apart from each other. “I just want to help you.”

He observes you for a painfully long time, wide blue eyes digging into yours, but he still seemed unconvinced, making your heart ache a bit. He sighs, a stressful grunt coming out of him. “I don’t know what to do right now. I shouldn’t even have fucking called you. It just fucked up so bad.”

“What went bad?” you quickly press.

His tone drastically changes, like he was hesitant to even talk. “I fucked up, Y/N. I really did.”

“Ok, let’s just… Take a breath, think about it,” you gesture, hoping that he would calm himself and see more clearly. You knew him, and right now, he would blame the world as well as himself, too proud to admit anything. He needed to see that he was safe with you.

He only straightened up and ran his fingers through his hair again, putting distance between the both of you in the process. The night had settled outside, and it felt like you had not progressed at all with him. You settled on the idea of allowing him space, to wait.

“You can spend the night here Will okay? Just… take a step back. Gather your thoughts”

He doesn’t answer you, so you decide it safe enough to go to the kitchen, maybe bring him back a glass of water and let him come to you, like he did before. Once alone near the sink you take a look at your phone and you widen your eyes at the three missed calls from Leah and seven of her texts, all roughly the same content.

“Y/N, where are you? Tom is in detention, he got arrested for robbery or something.”

“What?” you instantly reply, eyes glued to the screen as you await her response.

“Yeah, the post office thing. Y/N I’m freaking out, I’ve not heard from Matt in hours and he is not answering. I don’t know what to do.”

You thought about calling her for a minute, but you chose not to, not trusting that you would be able to remain calm, and something about a post office rang a bell in your mind.

“Do you know where Will is?” came another text while you tried to gather your thoughts, hearing Will shuffle in your living room. “I’ve tried Jonno but he knows nothing, and the police won’t tell me anything. They asked me to come in.”

You bit your lip. You promised Will you wouldn't tell. Damn, you were not making smart decisions right now, knowing the police were involved, but you were desperate to sort it out yourself first. To understand. You owed it to him.

“I’m sure he’ll come around, I’ll try to reach out for him. Don’t say anything, go to your parents. I’ll keep you updated if anything happens, yeah?”

You lock your phone after that written lie, and reach for a glass before filling it up with water.

You had suspected for a while that the guys were a little too cunning about doing illegal things, and even if they never talked to you about it, they didn’t try to really hide it either. They had the occasional jobs, but they never discussed it, they knew fishy people, fishy places and hung out God knew where for days. Matt was able to pay rent despite those shitty jobs, Will had his nan to take care of and Tom… was Tom. You believed you were unnecessarily worrying, especially since Leah didn't seemed bothered by any of it, so you let it go. But it seemed that she was even more clueless than you were.

You noticed how hard you were squeezing the glass of water in your hand and wondered for how long you had stayed like this, lost in your thoughts. But you decide that you had to know.

You unlock your phone again and search about that post office story you’re sure you’ve heard of before. It was too recent and too local for it to have been related in length, but you found some information nonetheless.

Three men robbed a post office with a firearm, and kidnapped one of the workers. The car has been found and leads are currently followed. Nothing more, the article was dated from yesterday.

You leaned into the counter and sighed, feeling the weight of all of this on your shoulders. Why, Will, why did he inflict that on himself? Where did they find a fucking gun? Why would they kidnap someone?

And why did you have this uneasy feeling that Will’s recent breakdown had something to do with Matt?

You stayed in the kitchen like this for a while, lost in thought. Your phone had several new panicked messages from Leah and you felt like a shitty friend for not calling her or even going to her. But somehow you felt that Will needed you the most. And he was wrong, you were not terrified of him, Never.

You gathered yourself and entered the living room, seeing Will fiddle with the bandages on his hands and he only seemed to notice your presence when you sat down beside him.

You handed him the water that he barely drank, analysing him and processing all of the information you had learned in the last minutes. You just had to try.

“Will… Where’s Matt?”

A/N: Thank you to @babyblue711, @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan & @arcielee for beta reading. They have been of incredible help and support. Part 2 is written and ready to go.

Part 2

#lovely mutuals #will salad days #usermyfandomprompts

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