[ William has always felt guilty. Always. From the moment he'd woken up and heard his parents thoughts for the first time. Give us back our son, they thought but never spoke. They'd treated him with kindness and love like he was their real son and the whole time, he'd lied and use his inability to turn them off to his advantage - not maliciously, to survive. To quiet the voices in his head that he can't just stop. He's tried, he's tried so many times. It's only that Tommy is so loud and he's Tommy - that has to be it, the both of them. ]
[ His eyes no longer burn by the time the other boy pulls his hand from his. He feels the tears, angry and conflicted at once, before he turns his attention upwards - briefly.
Fine. If he didn't want to be near him. That was fine. William had thrown away his identity for the sake of others before, he'd do it again now. (It's not fine). He takes his own step back, feels the blue tinge of power at his fingers, sparking and dying out because he isn't Billy Maximoff. Not the one Tommy expects or wants or needs and - So, the power tries to show itself and it dies off and his mouth is dry.]
You don't think I know that? [ He finally bursts out, the quiet anger sizzling. More Billy than William, more the hurt and the pain and the lost. He's still and sharp and he doesn't care that he's crying even though he hates more than anything that he's a goddamned empath. ] All I've heard is about what a monster Wanda Maximoff is. How she controlled and tortured a town and then did all these horrendous acts. That if it weren't for her I wouldn't exist - [ and the Kaplans would be happy, they'd be better off. He tries to swallow it down] - and I wouldn't have these powers that have already hurt people I care about. Because I'm so much like her.
[ He uses Agatha's words there, something he can't get out of his head. The thing that set him off, but not quite. Powers he can't control, powers he doesn't even know the beginning of. Powers he's not entirely sure he wants anymore, but he can't say that. He's hurt and lost and lost some more. ]
[ He doesn't look up. There's no use saying that's not what he meant. That it hadn't taken being in his head to know he was Tommy. That it was something else. The other wouldn't trust him and he pulls his hands from his sides to tug his hoodie back over his head to look away - to hide his face, something. ]
You already don't trust me. And you know who you are, I don't.
[ He says it in the same rooted manner. In the stillness of a vacuum as he takes another step back. Somehow fully on the precipice of accepting his identity of Billy Maximoff and yet so wholly so fully on the ground as well. He can't be Billy Maximoff, because that's not the one this Tommy is expecting. ]
no subject
[ His eyes no longer burn by the time the other boy pulls his hand from his. He feels the tears, angry and conflicted at once, before he turns his attention upwards - briefly.
Fine. If he didn't want to be near him. That was fine. William had thrown away his identity for the sake of others before, he'd do it again now. (It's not fine). He takes his own step back, feels the blue tinge of power at his fingers, sparking and dying out because he isn't Billy Maximoff. Not the one Tommy expects or wants or needs and - So, the power tries to show itself and it dies off and his mouth is dry.]
You don't think I know that? [ He finally bursts out, the quiet anger sizzling. More Billy than William, more the hurt and the pain and the lost. He's still and sharp and he doesn't care that he's crying even though he hates more than anything that he's a goddamned empath. ] All I've heard is about what a monster Wanda Maximoff is. How she controlled and tortured a town and then did all these horrendous acts. That if it weren't for her I wouldn't exist - [ and the Kaplans would be happy, they'd be better off. He tries to swallow it down] - and I wouldn't have these powers that have already hurt people I care about. Because I'm so much like her.
[ He uses Agatha's words there, something he can't get out of his head. The thing that set him off, but not quite. Powers he can't control, powers he doesn't even know the beginning of. Powers he's not entirely sure he wants anymore, but he can't say that. He's hurt and lost and lost some more. ]
[ He doesn't look up. There's no use saying that's not what he meant. That it hadn't taken being in his head to know he was Tommy. That it was something else. The other wouldn't trust him and he pulls his hands from his sides to tug his hoodie back over his head to look away - to hide his face, something. ]
You already don't trust me. And you know who you are, I don't.
[ He says it in the same rooted manner. In the stillness of a vacuum as he takes another step back. Somehow fully on the precipice of accepting his identity of Billy Maximoff and yet so wholly so fully on the ground as well. He can't be Billy Maximoff, because that's not the one this Tommy is expecting. ]