Chapter Text
“He’s just my Tammy.”
The words fell out of his mouth before almost immediately wanting to crawl their way back onto his tongue. Will didn’t want Mike to be his Tammy Thompson. He wanted him to be his Vickie, and he wanted it more than anything despite what he said out loud.
Or almost more than anything. The fate of the world still stood boldly between Will and his wants, staring him dead in the eyes without ever blinking or looking away. It always had been there, lurking in the shadows, just visible enough that Will could never forget it was there.
“He’s just my Tammy…” He repeated, eyes shifting to Jonathan to Robin to Mike to Robin to– He was stuck at Robin, watching her nod proudly as words kept tumbling from his mouth, words that didn’t make any sense to him. Mike was anything but Tammy Thompson. He was everything and nothing all at once, something that tore Will at the seams since he was fourteen. All the while he sat beside his mom on a yellow couch, crying and smiling and comparing oil to water.
Robin was nodding, a silent notion that told him he was doing great, something he didn't quite want to believe. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen, he was supposed to choose to do this, not…not whatever this was. Robin had said it herself, he was supposed to feel a weight lifted off his shoulders, but instead he just got another placed onto the tower of stones he carried with him. Something about this moment was wrong; Will didn’t want to accept that Mike wasn’t ever going to be his.
But delusion won’t kill Vecna. No matter how much Will wished it could.