Chapter Text
The first thing William could remember after running full force toward the light was a… strange feeling? He wasn’t exactly sure how to describe it, and maybe there wasn’t a right way to explain it, the best thing he could come up with was it was a pulling sensation. Like thick, yarn sewn stitches he could feel his body being pulled back together as his organs rearranged themselves, his bones snapped back into place, others back together, and new sense of purpose enter his body. He barely gave himself time to sit up with a groan before he was wildly trying to half walk, half crawl over to his friends.
And maybe it wasn’t the best look. His clothes were torn to shit thanks to the Trickster and he was covered in a concoction of blood and dirt, hobbling towards his friends while groaning so it’s really no wonder they both began to scream as soon as they saw him.
Luckily, that was several hours ago now. They had been piled into an ambulance (meant to be several, but the three boys and Tide had refused to be separated, with Ashe only being parted so his father could have some time with his unconscious son) and transported to a hospital where they were now; safe, warm, and finally safe after what felt like forever. William, however, was having a hard time sleeping. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was due to his renewed identity as undead (?) or the fact that he couldn’t stop looking in the mirror, but he had quite the feeling it was more so the latter.
It was a line down his body. An uneven, jagged scar that marred its way down his face, in between his legs, and back up his back. Some portions were thicker and raised, while others were like the ones on his face. It was a sharp, pale slit that sat right next to his left eye, stretched over his nose, and cut across the other side of his lips before trailing down his chin where it changed to a keloid as it traveled down his chest and below the paper scrubs he was given.
Aside from the scar, there were other major changes to his appearance. For one, his once black hair was now pure white and his dark eyes were now a piercing blue. The scars from decay on this fingers had turned from a dark purplish-brown to black as if continuing to rot away, though the new sense of control he had over his powers told him this was untrue. Nonetheless, he wasn’t sure to laugh or cry at how strange it was to look in the mirror and barely recognize himself.
Strange, strange, strange.
The word seemed to haunt him and he was truly starting to hate it. While he would love to go wallow in his own self pity, Kemuri wouldn’t allow that- no, he wouldn’t allow that. As the sun began to rise, he realized he may have his most terrifying battle yet now: calling his mom.
—
Stepping outside, William was thankful to feel the biting chill of dawn and the warmth of the orange sun working to change that as it hit his face. His hands were shaking as he scrolled through his contacts, chewing roughly at his lips. His fingertips, cold and callous from rot, didn’t always register on the phone screen, and he scrolled past his mother’s contact once or twice before he was finally able to click on the call icon.
It didn’t even ring once.
“William Wisp, how dare you ignore my calls for so long,” his mother hissed from the other side of the phone. Usually, her anger would cause anxiety to bubble up inside him, but her voice was enough to warm his chest.
He laughed a little, tears already beginning to well in his eyes. “I know, I know. I’m so sorry, I just-“
“I do not care about excuses, son. You have a lot of explaining to do, leaving your brother unconscious on the floor,” she reprimanded.
His eyebrows furrowed in frustration, “Mom-“
“You need to get your butt down here to your brother’s apartment and apologize! I don’t know what you did but-“
“Mama,” it was Will’s turn to cut her off as tears began to make their way down his cheeks, voice wavering. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry and I’ll explain when I can but I just- I really really need you right now. I- I can’t leave my friends, but I really need to see you and explain everything.”
She was silent for a moment before sighing softly. “Where are you?”
“Freedom City Hospital,” he almost whispered. “I’m ok, it’s my friends.”
“Give us 15 minutes.”
“Okay. Thank you,” he sniffed. “Could you bring me some clothes, please?”
—
15 minutes turned more to 30 as William sat in the waiting room, not wanting to stand outside in paper scrubs. He kept his head down, tapping his foot quickly as he was engrossed in the Doodle Jump level he was on.
“We’re looking for my son and his friends,” a quiet voice sounded from the check in counter. His head snapped up.
There stood his mother, a shorter, stout woman, wearing her typical brown cardigan, though her hair was more of a mess than the typical braid she sported. Her southern accent and worried eyes made William’s chest ache as he began to stand. Next to her, his father stood, a beast of a man who towered over most those he met, his fit body doing little to lessen his intimidating demeanor. Similarly to William’s mother, he wore his typical polo and his usually neat hair seemed to be mussed.
“William Wisp and uhh… gosh, darling, do you remember-”
“Mama,” the white haired boy repeated.
His mother looked over for a second, going back to her original conversation before snapping back to his attention. She stared for a second, mouth open as a pained, choked out sob squeezed out of her throat; tears immediately spilling. His father, in his own way, was just as shocked, eyes wide with fear and confusion as the three rushed towards each other. As soon as they were together again, it only got worse, his mother’s wails growing, his father’s eyes spilling tears of their own, and his own breath becoming choppy and labored.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” the shorter woman cried, holding his face and tracing the scar down his chin. “My baby, what happened- what happened to you?”
He opened his mouth before closing it, words caught in his throat as he felt eyes on him. He turned to the nurse at the counter.
“Is there any way we could get a room,” he asked, waiting for her hesitant nod before turning back to his parents. “There’s- There’s a lot we need to talk about.”
—
William sat with his legs crossed on the shitty blue plastic bed, changed out of the paper scrubs and into a plain black shirt, large red hoodie, and loose black sweatpants. His parents sat just next to him, the two holding hands tight enough to whiten their knuckles. His mother’s free hand was on his knee as she stared at him, horror, confusion, and pity on her face. His father struggled to look at him.
“I- there’s-,” William huffed, scrubbing at his dampened face. “There’s no easy way to even start this conversation.”
“Take your time,” his father whispered.
He nodded, trying to ignore that sinking tug in his chest. He needed to do this. Not for himself, not for Kemuri. He needed to do this for his parents, because they needed to know. “I just need you guys to first understand that I am ok. I’m not- you guys know I’m not like- like you , but I’m ok, at least in the sense of… of me?”
His mother’s grip on his knee tightened. “Whatever it is we’re here for you. We don’t… completely understand your powers but we try.”
“I know you do and I appreciate it,” he mumbled. “I just don’t know where to start, really.”
It was silent for a moment. The overhead lights seemed to buzz louder and room seemed to grow colder.
“I know you weren’t exactly born with your powers. You could always see things we couldn’t, but something happened,” his father began, staring at him. “What happened?”
William took a deep breath breath in, exhaling loudly at the loaded question. “When I was 16, do you remember when I disappeared for a while, like longer than usual? And when I came home I looked uhm… rough?”
“Rough is definitely a way to describe it,” his mother chided, pain and worry flooding her head and pushing against her skull at the memory. “Nearly gave your father and I a heart attack.”
The boy nodded, looking down at his lap before taking a deep breath in. Everything was telling him to run, to change the subject an leave it for another day. But tomorrow would become today and the cycle would begin anew. He looked back up at them, eyes wide. “I died that day. I died that day and I was dead for- for a very long time.”
He watched as the color left his parents faces and tears were brought up to their eyes. His father looked ill, bile crawled up the back of his throat along with the thick onslaught of anxiety, disappointment, and grief. Similarly, his mother began to sway in her seat. Her head swam so much she wasn’t sure where to start with her own emotions and there was just two things she could make out of the chaos: How and Why?
“Oh dear,” she mumbled, beginning to slouch forward.
William lurched forward, pushing her back to keep her from falling to the floor. He could feel the wisps just below the surface, advising for their assistance in the situation. “It’s ok, it’s ok, I’m still here, I’m still here.”
“I just don’t understand,” his father whispered, moving his hand from his wife’s to her shoulder and then to her face, trying to keep her awake.
“I don’t either,” William admitted numbly. “I know it’s a lot, and there’s so much more so we can take a break, or we can stop entirely.”
Ms Wisp shook her head, still pale, and eyes shut tightly just as both her hands were around her son’s.
“No, no, please ,” she begged, breaths were heavy, ragged, and wet. “I don’t think I can take not- not knowing .”
“Mom, I don’t know if that’s a good idea for you,” he began.
“Please, William. Please.”
William looked to his father. Heavy tears were falling down all three of their faces as the older man nodded slightly, encouraging him to continue. The pit in his chest seemed to impossibly double, triple, and quadruple in size. Even if he wanted to turn back now, he couldn’t.
Taking in a shuddered breath, he continued. “That wasn’t the last time I died. I died again when I was fighting my villains and I- I couldn’t get back into my body for a while after that, and I died again after trying something stupid.”
His mother’s shaky breaths grew louder as she squeezed his hand. “Oh my god, my baby, why- why didn’t you tell us? W- Why didn’t you come home ?”
William’s own tears were catching up to him as his father placed his head in his hands, desperately trying not to cry in front of his son.
“I couldn’t, I couldn’t do that to you, I couldn’t put you in danger and I couldn’t-“ he cut himself off with a hiccuped breath. “A-After the third time, my- my body wasn’t handling it well anymore.
“I had broken my arm, they were fixing it up and did a full check on me and,” he shivered again, memories of the news returning. Memories of the cold, of the confusion, of the overall lack. “My heart had stopped, I couldn’t feel, I could hardly stay- stay here on this plane and my body was decaying .”
His father covered his mouth for a second, clenching his fist before reaching out and grabbing his son’s. He took his boy’s palm and opened it, rubbing at the blackened finger tips, concern obvious on his face at the nearly inhuman chill that emanated from them. The older held the hand tight, closing both hands around the fingers as if it will warm them. William only shook his head.
“After they told me that, I was kinda- it wasn’t good,” he continued quietly. “We found out Dakota’s heart was going to kill him soon after, his body couldn’t keep up with it and uh… he… he gave it to me.”
His father looked deep in denial. “He- he gave it to you. What do you mean he gave it to you?”
“My heart wasn’t beating, Dakota’s was, but it was hurting him-“
“So they gave you the defective heart,” Mr Wisp began to cut in.
“Had it gone wrong, the worst that would happen is I would walk around with a different unbeating heart,” William bit back, beginning to pull back from his father before relaxing once again. “It worked. It worked and my body could handle it, and I could feel and taste and breathe and- and it worked.”
It was silent for a minute as his parents processed the information. The overhead lights continued to buzz.
William’s father began to speak, pulling in a shakey breath before it caught in the back of his neck. “So, you’re- you’re alive, now, right?”
William looked at him, mouth slightly open as if to say something before he looked back down at his lap. One hand was cocooned within his mother’s and the other sat within his father’s, blackened fingertips contrasting against his pale palms. He pressed his fingers into older man’s hand, a reminder to both that he was there and he was real.
“After my fight with David, we went to DeadWood to fight the Trickster who was inhabiting Ashe’s body. I was alive, and I could feel, and I didn’t have any powers,” he whispered. “I was terrified, I was so scared and-“
He chocked up at the memory, squeezing tighter at his parents hands.
“I don’t think you should know the rest,” he murmured.
“We need to know," his mother replied. It was more than a plea, something that bubbled in her chest and squeezed at her heart. “Knowing will hurt, but I won’t be able to sleep at night not knowing. We won’t be able to sleep at night not knowing. ”
He took in a shuddered breath, staring blankly at his lap as he remembered. He remembered his final words, and the shame they came with. He remembered the hands in his skull and forcing their way through his back. He remembered the feeling of his spine and ribs separating as hot blood ran down and soaked his legs. He remembered the feeling of his organs spilling from his body.
“The Trickster, not Ashe, the Trickster,” he started quietly, his voice wavering so much he feared it may be unintelligible, “ripped me in half. I was dead, like really dead for a while, and I didn’t think I was coming back.”
His father’s tears quickened as he lifted a fist to his mouth, looking sick. William leaned toward him, allowing himself to be enveloped by the man as him mother joined, loud sobs ripping from her and her grip so tight it hurt. The three sat there for several minutes, none able to speak more than an apology over their hiccuping cries. Eventually, though, they pulled apart. It was just barely, with William leaning against his father who was doing the same to him and his mother laying her forehead against her hands. She was breathing quietly, almost asleep from the exhaustion of each revelation.
“Kemuri was in the spirit world with me, he forced me to be brave. He forced me to make tough decisions and he forced me back into my body,” William stared, sniffing wetly against his father. “I will never be able to thank him enough.”
“So now you’re,” his mother trailed off, just barely lifting her head to rest more against his chest.
“Both, neither, I’m not entirely sure. When I became Whisperer, I just thought it was a cool name, turns out to be a lot more,” he laughed hoarsely. “I kinda rule life and death? I think? I don’t know how it works much yet.”
His father groans, “I don’t think I’ll think about it too much. I don’t want to see you like that yet.”
William blew his nose into his father’s shirt in retaliation. A silent and unnoticed plea not to speak like that.
“You know, I never thought I’d miss that,” he laughed, kissing the top of his son’s head. Finally, he pulled away, forcing William to look him in the eyes. “Like you, I don’t know how you’re whole… body situation works, just promise to try to keep your heart beating for as long possible.”
“It doesn’t do that anymore.”
“Fine, keep breathing-“
“I don’t do that either.”
His father pulled him into a headlock, scratching his knuckles against William’s skull roughly, causing the boy to squawk indignantly as he flailed. “Keep having thoughts in that thick skull of yours, you little twerp.”
Ms Wisp could only huff out a laugh, happy to see her boys so lively already but not trusting herself to move all too much. Usually, she noted, William would only let the noogie go on for a few more seconds before he resorted to biting, but now he almost leaned into it. He truly missed them.