Tightrope

31

NOW

BECCA

"Is it an anxiety attack?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Feels different."

Will tried to take a deep breath but ended up wheezing instead.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Come here," I gently pushed him into one of the lobby conference rooms. It was late at night and I knew for a fact no one would be there.

He stumbled inside and leaned his back against the wall, still trying to catch his breath.

"Am I having a heart attack?" Will suddenly whispered, barely audible as he hyperventilated.

I instantly knew what was happening.

"It's a panic attack," I said, just as Will's legs gave up on him and he collapsed onto the ground, his back still resting against the wall.

His eyes were unfocused. I took his shaking hands in mine and squeezed them hard. "You're okay,"  I whispered.

"Look at me, Will," I said, using one of my hands to lift his face so he would meet my eyes again. "You're okay, I'm here."

His breathing still wouldn't even, and his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

I stood up and then sat down squeezing myself in between his back and the wall.

"Shh, it's okay," I whispered, taking his hands and wrapping my arms around him from behind. "Slow, deep breaths Will."

I placed a kiss on his shoulder as his breaths started slowing down. "That's it, love. You got it." I murmured.

I slipped away from behind him and went to kneel down in front of him.

"Fuck," Will choked out, tears now starting to run down his face.

"Oh, love." I wrapped my arms around him again and held him tightly as his body shook from the sobs. "I've got you."

A couple of tears escaped from my own eyes. It was too much for my heart to see the person I loved so much in such pain. He didn't deserve this. He never had.

I pulled back and wiped his tears away with my thumbs, offering him the best smile I had to offer.

"Hey, Will?"

"Yeah?" He exhaled.

"I love you." I pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"You are such an incredible person and an amazing brother. You are nothing like your father. You are honest, responsible, loving, and so, so kind." I insisted.

Will shook his head. "I'm not so sure."

"I am." I corrected him. I couldn't leave any doubts in his mind. "You couldn't be your father even if you tried, Will. You are too good."

"Sometimes I think I'm more like him than I know." He admitted. "And it terrifies me, Becca. I don't want to be like him."

I shook my head and took his face in my hands once again. "You're not. Not about what matters, Will."

He looked at me like he wasn't sure about what I was saying.

"Nate didn't mean anything with what he said. He was hurt, and he knew accusing you of being like your dad would hurt you. But he didn't mean it, he knows it's not true." I reassured him.

"I get why you didn't tell me." He finally said. "I didn't react well at all. I should have been better."

"There's no wrong or right when it comes to fear-based reactions, Will. You were afraid, and it's okay. We all get it."

"Thank you for going to help him."

I frowned. "You don't have to thank me. You two are family."

Will exhaled for a long second before standing up. "I love you, Becca."

❈

Will and I went up to my apartment once he was calm enough to talk to his brother.

Will groaned. "I have the worst headache."

We stopped before the door and I gently brushed his hair back. "I'll get you something for it." I said.

Immediately after we opened the door, Nate rushed to greet his brother with a tight embrace. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean it, I swear." He whispered.

Will put his arms around his brother, too. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have yelled, and I should have trusted you."

I walked over to turn on the T.V. and the most recent sports news popped up immediately.

BREAKING NEWS: THE CHICAGO WHISPERS ARE THE STANLEY CUP WINNERS.

"No fucking way," I said, dropping the remote.

Nate came running over to watch the news.

The smile that appeared on my face was so big it made my cheeks hurt. I felt the tears pooling in my eyes before I launched myself into Will's arms.

"Oh my god, Will. Congratulations, I am so, so proud of you." I practically squealed into his shoulders.

Will groaned as I crashed into him, but he effortlessly lifted me up and spun me around, laughing. "Can you believe it, Becca? We did it."

I wiped my tears and planted a big kiss right on his lips. "You did it. You made it, Will."

The reporter on the T.V. continued speaking, mentioning how Will had been the one to score the game-winning goal.

"William Mitchell, you just won the Stanley Cup," I said, stunned.

Will smirked proudly. "Surprised?"

I grinned at him once more. "Never. I knew you could do it, I trained you well." I teased. Our skating sessions as kids were nothing compared to the training he had undergone for years and years, and the one he would continue to go through.

Will laughed again, and I got the urge to record his laugh. It was so genuine and so beautiful. I never wanted to stop hearing it. "That you did."

"Please tell me you have a picture I can frame?" I asked, only half joking.

I was bursting with pride. He had defeated the accusations about his rookie season by becoming one of the best players on the team. He had been named captain and then hadn't disappointed the media that predicted this to be his very best season yet. Not only had he played incredibly, but he had led his team all the way to the playoffs. And not only had he done that, but he had scored the winning goal at the finals. He was the captain of the team that had won the Stanley Cup. It was an insane achievement.

"I couldn't have done it without you," Will said, wrapping an arm around my waist.

I frowned again but smiled. "What are you talking about? This is all you, Will."

He shook his head. "You came back into my life when I needed you the most. You gave me a newfound purpose, Becca. You made this possible."

It was a lie.

Or at least, it wasn't the whole truth.

The truth was, that Will had always appeared in my life when I needed him the most. First my parents' divorce, then a new job, new city, new life. He had been the one to save me.

And all of those years we spent apart, he had been a beacon of hope. A bittersweet memory of the best years of my life, and of my very favorite person.

Because Will had always been that.

The person I loved the most in the whole entire world.

My favorite person.

My best friend.

Will had always been my everything, and it had taken me all of this time to figure it out, but none of that mattered anymore.

All that mattered was that he was here now, and so was I.

And the rest of our lives had never looked more clear.