Byler- The Unwanted Return of Everything (And How It Finally Ends)

The Biggest Problem

Notes- TW for implied abuse and discussion of abuse

If there was one feeling Will hated worse than knowing he was drunk it was a hangover. The headache, the drowsiness, the regret, the big bruise on his arm that he couldn't stop focusing on.

God, the bruise. Where had it even come from? Will was trying to convince himself he didn't know. What? This? Oh, I didn't even know that was there! One of life's mysteries, I guess. But that didn't explain why it had fingers. That didn't explain why it was so prominent. Will just covered it up with a long-sleeved shirt. It was too hot for long sleeves.

You're gonna end up like your mom.

Will found his mom in the kitchen, preparing some lunch for everyone in the house. He had been in the living room talking with Lucas, Max, and Brad. Brad hadn't mentioned the bruise at all. He probably didn't even remember it.

He reminds me of Lonnie.

"Hey, mom?" Will scooted onto one of the stools by the kitchen counter, facing his mother. Joyce looked overworked. She always did. Now that most of her kids were out of the house and she had someone else helping her with everything, she wasn't nearly as stressed as she used to be, but some of the worry lines and grey hairs had stuck around. She always looked tired.

You're gonna end up like your mom and then one day he's gonna die drinking and all he's gonna leave you is two kids to raise by yourself and those bruises. Bruises. Will's mind was still fixated on his arm. He hadn't felt like this in years.

Mike's voice wouldn't go away. It had been playing on repeat for hours. Your dad. He reminds me of—

"Will, baby? Do you need something?" Joyce tilted her head at her son, abandoning the ham sandwich she was making. Whatever he needed was far more important, whether it was a hospital visit or a tissue.

Will shook his head. "No, not really. I just... wanted to ask a question." He looked down at his hands, fidgeting with them.

Joyce smiled. "Well, that's okay. What did you want to know, baby?"

Brad never called Will baby. Just babe. Why are you even thinking about him right now? Get over yourself. It's not a big deal.

"Okay, it's just... a weird question. You don't have to answer it if you don't want to." Will continued to fidget. He was nervous. He found a napkin to switch over to, folding it back and forth.

Joyce slowly started up her sandwich again, realizing the conversation would be longer than she had anticipated. "I'm sure it's not a weird question. If it's important, then I have no problem answering it."

Will smiled half-heartedly. "Okay." He sighed. "So... why did you marry da– Lonnie. Why'd you marry Lonnie if he was so horrible?"

Joyce stopped the sandwich-making a second time, giving a slight scoff. "Well, he wasn't horrible when I met him. Or he was less horrible, at least. God, and I was young and stupid and so I didn't see the signs."

Will perked up. "Signs? What signs?"

"Signs he was gonna turn out bad. Not listening to me. Temper. And he always had that god-awful drinking problem too. Since day one, so I guess it was bound to take him out eventually, huh?" She smiled slightly, retreating at the sight of Will's worried face. "Why are you wondering, baby?"

"When did he start... being horrible?" Will spoke quietly. Joyce had to lean in to hear him properly.

"Well, mostly after we got married. A little bit before, but never enough for me to decide to get out of there." She sighed. "I was a dumb kid, Will. I should have seen it long before we got married. I'm glad you've got yourself a good guy. You're gonna have a good life, baby, I know it. Brad's just so sweet."