The Nightmare Come True - Part 3
TW: POW, Torture
Scott's POV 1 | Part 1 | Scott's POV 2 | Part 2 | Scott's POV 3
Thanks @loopstagirl for the support and inspiration!
Scott had thanked him.
Scott had thanked him and it had made the Dog Tags in Jeff’s pocket feel all the heavier.
“You found me.”
It had sounded like the kid had never doubted him, and Jeff’s gut had started to refute the statement before he had consciously thought about it.
Scott, I …
Wouldn’t have stopped until I did.
I’m sorry it wasn’t sooner.
Or, perhaps the most truthful of all,
I didn’t.
Because Colonel Jeff Tracy had not found Captain Scott Tracy. Instead, his son had been presented to him as a pawn in the game between one country and the rest of the world. It had been Hugh and Kyrano that had worked their magic and found exactly where Scott had been held.
Hell, it had even been Kyrano that had found him in the cells when Jeff hadn’t heard his own son’s cries for help.
The nightmare that had woken Scott in a panic and sent all manner of alarms blaring, were proof most of all.
Jeff hadn’t saved his son.
He had spent six months trying, and failing, to find him. He had stood by as others had taken action and done all the heavy lifting for him. He had done nothing whilst all that time Scott had been fighting.
“What’s that look for?”
Jeff looked up from where he had perched on the arm of the chair Scott had fallen asleep in, Val’s whisper breaking into his thoughts.
“He thinks I saved him, Val.” He murmured back, his hand absently brushing over Scott’s still too short hair, “He thanked me.”
Val eyed him for a long moment before hopping up onto the empty bed, her eyes assessing both he and Scott in a way Jeff had long since come used to. She’d speak when she’d decided what needed to be said, once she’d gotten a full picture of what was happening and the mindset of those involved. It was a skill she used to her full advantage and had seen her rise through the ranks of the Air Force right on Jeff’s tail.
“The nurses won’t be impressed when they find him out of bed.” She watched him, leaning forward like it was a secret Jeff hadn’t already known the moment Scott had forced himself upright.
“He needed to move,” He fired back, ready to defend as he had done when the same nurses had tried to force an oxygen mask over Scott’s face, “to not feel trapped.”
He’d known even before he had asked that he wouldn’t have stopped Scott, even if he had wanted to. His son had always wanted to move, had hated confinement of any sort even when he had been tiny. Lucy had always laughed, insisted that he had gotten it from Jeff himself, and had known that he would inevitably follow his father to the sky where the only limit was the horizon.
Being bound to a bed, barely able to stay awake, had always felt like …
“You helped him?” Val asked, raising an eyebrow that held no real heat.
Jeff straightened, prickling at the insinuation he couldn’t quite see, “I was hardly gonna leave him to struggle on his own.”
Because he had done that once, and even to that day he was seeing the reminders of that very mistake.
Scott hadn’t wanted help, had been determined to push through and manage on his own even when he was exhausted and hurting. Jeff had partly fallen back on his Colonel Voice to get the Captain to listen, and it had twisted something deep in his gut that it had come to that.
He knew the way Scott had leaned into him after he had thrown up had been subconscious, and definitely something he wouldn’t have done had he been more awake. It was for the same reason that Scott hadn’t actively called out for Jeff, except for in his nightmares.
A much younger Scott had needed his father, and he hadn’t been there, so at some point the kid had stopped asking for him.
Jeff had come back to his son’s though, and had sworn every day that he would be there for them. He would pick them up when they fell, guide them when they were lost, hold them together when they fell apart.
Alan had just been young enough to still ask for him.
Gordon had his moments, but had followed an example set by his older brothers.
Virgil had always been his mother’s son, and whilst he would ask for Jeff, he knew his mother had always been the parent he had called for first.
John wasn’t like the others, had always needed someone to see when he needed help rather than simply ask for it.
Scott had once been like Virgil, except the oldest had been his father’s son where Virgil had been his mother’s. When Jeff had fallen into his grief, Scott had fallen to not wanting to ask for help. Ever since had had come to his senses, Jeff had been watching and doing his best to give his son what he needed.
“You’re protecting him.” Val stated softly, the smallest of smiles playing on her lips.
Jeff looked down again, Scott’s face slack in dreamless sleep, peaceful.
He’d do anything to keep his son feeling that at peace, but he knew he couldn’t stop the nightmares that would come eventually.
“I didn’t protect him from them, nobody protected him.” He whispered, “He saved his crew, and he saved himself, I just turned up to pull him outta there.”
“Maybe.” Val nodded slowly, “or maybe you turned up right when he needed you to.”
Jeff frowned across to her, “What do you mean?”
Her look was soft as she sighed, “They train us hard for what happens in prison, tell us what to do, what to say. There’s no training for this though, is there? For what comes after.”
He knew she was right, there was no guidebook or protocol for what Scott was going through. There was no command that his son could follow to make it better.
Unless…
He felt sick at the thought, not confident that Scott was really ready for it.
Command was something he could do though, something Jeff had seen him demonstrate a handful of times since he had woken up. He had found his voice again, rooted deep and found the stubbornness that ran strong in his genes to get himself from the bed to the chair. There was still something more needed though, something to get him to see exactly how strong he had been through everything.
“Tomorrow,” He swallowed, “I’ll talk to him about a debrief.”
If Val was surprised by his statement, she hid it well.
“I can’t get you in on it.” She stated with a heavy sigh, “But if he agrees, I’ll find a way for you to listen in.”
Jeff wasn’t sure he was ready for that, to hear exactly what Scott had gone through without being at his side to support him through the memories. He trusted Val though, knew she had stood up for the rest of the squadron, and knew that she would do the same if not more for the man sleeping at Jeff’s side.
Slipping off the bed, she crossed the room to squeeze his shoulder with a silent nod before leaving them as quietly as she had come.
***
The nurses hadn’t passed comment when they had come to check on Scott, and Jeff said nothing in return as he scratched gently at his son’s scalp and thought about how stiff he would be when he did eventually wake. He deserved peace, the chance to rest undisturbed for as long as his mind would allow him.
Jeff’s phone buzzing in his pocket startled him as he hurried to answer it before it woke Scott.
“Virgil.” He hissed, glancing down to Scott, grateful to see him undisturbed despite the blue-tinged hologram lighting up the room.
His middle son looked firstly shocked and then guilty across the miles, “Sorry Dad, I just-- is that… Scott?”
Jeff realized too late that Scott would have been in the frame and immediately shifted the field to hide the eldest away from his younger brother’s eyes.
“He’s sleeping.” He murmured, “He’s still recovering.”
Virgil nodded quickly, eyes still clearly shocked at whatever he had picked up on of his eldest brother’s state.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have-- I just--”
Jeff straightened, already heightened senses picking up on the tone and immediately knowing the root of why his son had called. He glanced to the clock on the wall, a digital thing that showed the date in big bold numbers beneath the time. A quick mental calculation reminded him that Virgil had a recital that day, a solo he had been practicing since before Scott had been gone.
They had both voiced hope that he would be home to see it.
“What is it, son?” He asked softly, “Can your Grandmother still make it today?”
Virgil nodded quickly, glancing away from the phone before looking back again, “Yeah, Grandma’s still coming.”
His voice didn’t hold its usual enthusiasm in anticipation of playing for his family.
“I know you hoped he’d be home for this.” Jeff murmured, his free hand scratching over Scott’s scalp again, “We all did.”
Virgil looked away again, someone out of field calling him, “I… it’s my turn for final rehearsal.”
Jeff smiled softly, understanding without the words needing to be asked, “I’m sure we could stay on the line whilst you play.”
Virgil’s face lit up, his eyes losing most of the worry that had settled there at the sight of his big brother, “You can? Ms Graham said it was fine but Grandma sid the doctors might--”
Jeff waved him off, quickly assuring him that the doctors could say all they wished. Scott had always encouraged Virgil to play, he was certain to appreciate the soft melodies even in his sleep.
Or not, if the hand that reached to Jeff’s leg was of any indication.
He glanced down as Virgil placed the phone on the corner of the piano, noting how Scott’s eyes were still rested closed even as he yawned. Reaching down, he rested his free hand over his son’s, unsurprised when Scott moved his hand to grip the best he could in response.
Awake, listening, but not ready to face his brother was the summary Jeff came to as Virgil began to play.
He wasn’t sure when Scott’s body had tensed against him, but as the music floated through the speaker of his phone, Jeff noticed as slowly each part of Scott fully relaxed. Muscles that he was certain must have been tense for months, softened and lengthened as the melody flowed over them. The splinted fingers that had tried to curl around Jeff’s hand loosened until they were no longer holding on but resting lightly against Jeff’s palm. His eyes were open but distant, focussed somewhere in the middle of the floor but not really seeing the room they were in as the notes wrapped them in something soothing and calm.
They perhaps could have sat like that forever, at peace with the music that had once been Lucy’s. Every song had it’s end though, and all too soon Virgil was looking back to the hologram with a smile much softer than the one he had given earlier.
“Night Scott, night Dad.” He murmured softly before hanging up without another word.
Jeff smiled to himself as he repocketed his phone, glancing down to Scott with a raised eyebrow, “How about we get you into bed? You’ll feel it tomorrow if you sleep here all night.”
Scott grunted as he shifted upright, clearly already feeling it after the few hours he had been sat in the chair. His eyes darted across the room to the bed, his jaw tensing as he gauged the distance he had to move.
For a brief moment, Jeff thought he would need to convince his son to accept help once more, but right as he was about to step in front of him, Scott turned and held out his arms.
“Easy does it, right?” Jeff had asked through his surprise, stepping up and supporting Scott’s weight just as he had done so earlier.
Together they had shuffled back to the bed, Scott’s weight shifting more and more on to Jeff the further they got. Not that he minded, hell, Jeff would carry his son across that room a thousand times if it made things better.
“Dad?” Scott slurred as he sunk back into the pillows.
“Yes, kiddo?”
“Tell Aunt Val you can lis’en.”
By the time Jeff had interpreted just what Scott meant, the kid was asleep.
***
Val had brought the Generals with her the next afternoon after a more lucid Scott had agreed to the debrief. She had stood at the door as the pair had introduced themselves and then asked Jeff to leave the room.
He would never forgive the United States Air Force for what had followed when Scott had gripped onto his sleeve and stated in no uncertain terms that he wished for his father to stay. For a brief moment, Jeff had been assured that Scott would be fine as a flicker of the self-confident son shone through in the face of his superiors.
Those superiors had instantly extinguished the flame.
There had been no gentle reminders, or soft explanations, no understanding or care for what the airman in the bed had been through whilst they had sat in their ivory towers. Without hesitation, one had barked a sharp reminder across the room,
“You’ll do well to remember who’s in charge here, Captain.”
Scott had instantly cowered, turning away from the authority figures and looking to Jeff with the same fear that he had found him with back in the cells. The hand that Jeff had taken in his own had been clammy and had shook as he held on to it tight.
“Son, you listen to me,” He had told him, ignoring the pair at his back, “I’ll be right down the hall. You tell them everything that happened, and as soon as you’re done I’ll be right back here.”
It had taken a long moment before Scott had nodded and released Jeff’s arm enough for him to leave.
As soon as he was out the door, he had shoved in the earbud Val had slipped to him and hurried to the office down the hall she had cleared for him.
There he had listened, barely breathing, as Scott had recounted every detail of the six months he had been gone.
From departing for the mission, to being shot down.
From being helped by the villagers they were meant to be saving, to being captured.
From being thrown in a cell with the rest of his squad, to fighting to protect them when their captors had come to interrogate them.
It had all been almost robotic, Jeff could tell his son had slipped and fallen back to the Air Man he had been six months ago. There was no emotion there, the Generals didn’t have an interest in how their people felt, just one simple fact after another.
“Your squadron told us--”
“You debriefed my people without me?” Scott cut in, “Sir, protocol dictates that any debrief should be--”
“You were unavailable, Captain.” Val told him gently, “Protocol was followed given the circumstance.”
“Your squadron described to us how you protected them.” One General continued, as if there hadn’t been an interruption, “Did you not trust them, Captain?”
Scott’s voice held the same flicker it had earlier as he responded, “I trust them all with my life, Sir.”
“So why take the beatings in their place?”
Anger curdled in Jeff’s own stomach, it had not been as simple as beatings, even he knew that much. The animals had tortured Scott and his squad, first for information and then, he imagined, just because they could.
“It was torture, Sir.” Scott’s voice held an edge to it, sharp and dangerous, “I wasn’t going to let my people suffer more than they needed to, not if I could help it.”
“Your squad say you bartered with your captors, is that correct?”
“I bartered to protect them.”
“Yet it wasn’t enough, was it, Captain? You still lost half your team.”
There was a long pause, a quiet shuffling and a soft murmur of assurance from Val before Scott responded.
“I failed my people, Sir.”
Jeff bowed his head, screwing his eyes shut to force his own tears away. Scott had failed nobody, he had done his best to protect his people in any way he had been able. He had stayed strong and fought, Jeff had seen how fiercely Scott protected his own, had been called to the principal's office over fights caused by bullies too many times to count.
“Why did they separate you?”
“Sir?”
“Your squad told us that just before their rescue, your captors split you from a group cell to individual cells. Why was this?”
“I don’t know, Sir.”
“So, in all your bartering, they never gave you anything?”
“They stayed away from my people.” Scott answered, his voice wavering, “They hurt me instead of them.”
“But they didn’t, did they Captain? They still hurt your comrades, didn’t they?”
Jeff felt his heart drop, the insinuation hitting him square in the chest.
“Not as badly as they could have, Sir.”
“What are you insinuating, General?” Val’s voice held as much ire as Jeff felt.
“We find it awfully convenient that the Captain is reported to have bartered with the guards and was then hidden away when the extraction team arrived.”
Jeff slammed his fist on the desk, sending pens scattering across the floor as he half stood from the seat he had taken. How dare they imply that Scott had betrayed his country! They hadn’t been there, hadn’t seen the scars or the nightmares, hadn’t heard their son scream their name like they couldn’t hear him.
“You want to know where I was when they came?”
Scott’s anger had always burned hot and fast, explosive against anyone that stood against him. It was something he had gotten from Jeff himself, a trait he had tried and failed to move him away from.
Up the hallway, in a hospital bed, unable to stand for himself, Scott’s anger burned equally as hot but in a far more dangerous way. There hadn’t been any quiver in his question, each word had come as clear as the one before, his tone low and blunt. Anyone that had known the boy’s mother would have heard her as Jeff did in that question, and they would have known that whatever came next was far more dangerous than an explosion.
“Please, enlighten us, Captain.”
Scott’s breaths turned ragged for a moment, anger and panic mixing briefly before a long breath was drawn in.
“They put me in Solitary. To the right of the room where I was found, there was a concealed entrance, a room five by five.”
Jeff felt sick as he remembered the screams for help he had heard over the phone, and he knew.
“They took me there three times, General, and they left me there for weeks. Did my team tell you that? Did they tell you how they all thought I was dead the first time because I was gone for so long? Did they tell you how I couldn’t stand for a fortnight after they let me out? Did they tell you how I came back covered in my own filth because the guards thought it would remind me what sort of pig I was?”
Jeff was torn between pride and anger, between needing to listen and needing to stop. He’d had ideas, had made assumptions about everything his son must have been through, but he wasn’t sure any of them had quite matched the reality he was hearing as Scott ranted.
“I was in there when they were saved! And I came out thinking they were dead and that I’d failed them all. That was when I gave up. That was when they could have killed me and I wouldn’t have cared.”
Jeff found himself gripping the desk to keep himself seated, his stomach churning enough that he thought about reaching for the waste bin. Scott had given up, had been ready to let them win. If Kyrano hadn’t have found him when he did…
“I think your people should be checking for that hidden room, General.” Val’s voice was the cool balm Jeff needed to hear, “That and the Squadron’s statements should be confirmation enough of Captain Tracy’s loyalty to the Force.”
Jeff didn’t wait for her text to confirm it was clear for him to return. He didn’t acknowledge the Generals as he passed them in the hallway. He didn’t stop for anything or anyone until his arms were wrapped around his son.
Scott clung to him in return, a raw sob breaking free the moment that Val left them alone.
“I’ve got you kiddo.” He murmured into his hair, “You’ve been so strong, I’m so proud. You didn’t fail, you saved Jen and Gary and Sienna, you did good Scott. You’re so brave.”
His son’s tears weren’t like the ones that came before, they lacked the shaking grip that had come with fear and memories of terror that had been haunting him since he had woken up.
His sobs were raw, his grip solid and sure against Jeff’s back, like he had finally realized that his father wasn’t going anywhere without him. He wasn’t sure if it was relief, anger, or something else that fueled them, but it was something.
He held on and kept repeating the soothing mantra until the sobs subsided into long aching breaths and Scott pulled back, clearly spent.
“Dad?” He murmured, eyes drifting as Jeff repositioned himself to take hold of his hand.
“Yeah, kiddo?”
HIs eyes flickered to him, brow furrowing as he spoke, “I lied to them.”
Jeff leant closer, holding on to Scott’s hand with both of his, “To who?”
“The Generals. Told ‘em I didn’t care. I did though, I wanted to come home, wanted to see the boys, and wanted to see you. Then you found me.”
He pulled Scott back to his chest, hugging him tightly as his own tears broke free and ran down into his son’s hair.
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From your Thematic Headcanon ask game:
hc + 😡 for a headcanon about something that makes them angry
I totally LOVE stuff to get angry about! And I’m having a chaotic day, so it feels fitting!
Oh yes here we go!!!!
Eomer
People who abuse women. His love for Eowyn and his inability to save his mother instilled him early on with a fierce hatred of people who mistreat women. A hatred that goes beyond rationality sometimes, if he sees someone treat their wife or daughter harshly he will act first, think later, barging in on the situation without considering the ramifications of his actions, and how his interference could cause harm. That said, in the aftermath, once his rage has cooled, he always tries to help in a constructive way as well. This results in several laws for the protection of wives, daughters and other female kin being passed in his day.
People making fun of his beard. Stealing this headcanon, @konartiste, because of his Numenorean blood, it took Eomer longer to grow a beard than his peers, and even after it grows in it's not so naturally lustrous as theirs. He spends hours trimming it and brushing it to give it volume, and he can't grow it too long because it comes in patchy.
People who mistreat horses. Needs no further elaboration.
Eowyn
Feeling boxed in, confined, mollycoddled, overlooked, underrated, left out, overworked, exploited or generally done shit by because of her sex. Not a headcanon just canon but it's such a pressure point (rightfully so) it has to be said.
Being sick. She hates being sick. Her relationship with her body is fraught, because on the one hand she has suffered from being relegated to certain roles because of her gender, with the onset of puberty in particular hailing a stronger enforcement of gender roles in her life, but through training and effort she has been able to give her body a great deal of strength and skill, and so any feeling of "weakness" causes her to feel like her body is betraying her. Her periods are actually quite irregular, but when they come they can be truly painful, and this she hates above all else. Working as a healer makes her more forgiving of her own weakness, and her marriage to Faramir, who never treats her as less because she is a woman, (and introduces her to a lot of fun stuff her body can do and feel) makes her more at peace with her sex, but her monthlies still cause her a fair bit of frustration, as it really does dredge up the worst feelings she has about sex and weakness. Her first period itself was pretty traumatic, without a mother or female relative to help her through it. With her mother and aunts all dead, and her entry into womanhood being marked with blood and pain, womanhood seems interconnected with suffering and death, and it takes her a long time to put that all into perspective.
Impractical shoes. She hates shoes that pinch or have high heels. She hates any female specific fashion that significantly impedes movement or comfort. If it's inflicted on men and women alike, she can stomach it (like high collars on formal occasions) but anything that singles women out for discomfort/lack of mobility is her sworn enemy.
Also, side-saddles. Absolutely detests them. Side-saddles at the end of the third age, beginning of the fourth age, are the ones that have women sit entirely facing the side, and give women riders significantly less control over their horse than front facing saddles. Lothiriel's time as queen sees the development of more practical side saddles, that allow women decent control over their horses, which Eowyn grudgingly accepts, but still holds in dislike. She actively fights against Rohan adopting them for widespread use, because the reasons for women riding side-saddle (to protect their chastity) is an attitude she rightfully sees as harmful to women. As a result of her influence, the side-saddle comes to be seen as a fashion accessory, to show off a lady's gown on formal or ceremonial occasions, and women for the most part ride astride for sport and day to day use.
Faramir
Intellectual debates. He says he's always up for an intellectual debate, he says he loves discussing ancient texts and laws and poetry, but in truth he can't stomach people having different ideas to him, whether it be philosophy, history, art etc... He tries to play it cool, and when someone says something wrong, he is happy to explain to them why they are wrong. But if they insist on being wrong, it sends him into a cold, hard fury. He maintains decorum in front of them, but then rants for hours to Eowyn about it afterwards. The thing is, he usually is right, and usually the people disagreeing with him are wrong and wilfully so, but nonetheless, it makes him a little tiresome. When he actually is wrong, and it's explained to him, he takes it on board with good grace. It's just most of the time, he's in the right, so it makes him come across as intolerant of other people's views.
People underestimating his wife. He knows that under Eowyn's proud veneer, she suffers from self-esteem issues, and he gets very angry at people dismissing her or overlooking her, because he knows it causes these issues to flame up. Also, he thinks she's absolutely amazing, and as we've established, he struggles with people having different opinions
He can camp out in absolutely filthy conditions, and put up with dirt and blood and grime as part of being a soldier, but at home and in court life, he likes things neat an orderly. He's actually a bit precious about his fine clothes, and if there's a smudge or a stain, it bothers him like an itch until it's sorted out. Eowyn sometimes teases him by wearing her coronet at an angle, and watching him resist the urge to straighten it for her. (She likes it when he does, because he's very gentle when he does it, and takes the opportunity to run his fingers through her hair.)
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I think there’s a mentality in the Stranger Things fandom, or certainly outside of Byler spaces, that Byler is just another m/m ship.
What do I mean by “just another” m/m ship?
We all know there’s a long history of shipping male characters together when the show they were in clearly had no intentional romantic subplot.
M/m shipping has existed since the days of Star Trek - and it’s existed for many different reasons. But over time, it’s developed a bad reputation because fans of those ships were reading into things way too much and had so much hope that something might happen to those characters, only for them to end up incredibly upset and frustrated by the end.
There has also been a lot of accusations of fetishisation.
Some of this is also because especially in the early 2000s/ 2010s, these shows used to play on those hopes and have a lot of fun exploring “bromances”, where the writing would be intentionally stirring the pot, but not crossing the line enough for there to be any real plan to take things further.
What’s really important here is that Byler are NOT that kind of ship.
There would never be this much animosity if Will was Mike’s female best friend from childhood.
Yes, there would be a Byler vs. Milkvan war. That would never change - but the excuses as to why Byler have no possible chance of being together would be entirely different. Because yes, their arguments can currently include that Mike’s in a long term relationship, or that the 1980s environment would make it difficult for them to be together, but that’s about as realistic as the arguments have been.
Compare the circumstances to other canonical unrequited love stories
Take away all of the analysis about why Mike might be gay or Bi or even interested in Will in the first place, and just look at the plot in its bare bones state.
Will is canonically in love with Will, and Mike is canonically unaware of this and in a relationship with El.
There are SO MANY examples of this sort of love triangle in fiction, and most importantly there are more scenarios than there aren’t of this love becoming requited. It’s so normal for an audience to see a scenario like this and wonder if this is going to be one of those stories.
What’s happening instead is a lot of heteronormativity.
And that’s either down to the environment that Stranger Things fans find themselves in (people still live very unexposed lives) or they are just generally ignorant about anything that isn’t really in their face or what they want to see.
So there’s a heck of a lot of fans who didn’t even recognise that Will is gay, or just disregarded their assumptions and played up the “slow to grow up” narrative because they were more comfortable with that kind of story, or could relate to it more.
And so from their point of view, because they didn’t see anything, it couldn’t possibly exist. Bylers were seeing things and making them up. Now, after the Duffers and Noah confirmed things, they’re finding a lot of comfort in instead taking some of this fandoms bigger reaches (don’t mean to offend here, sorry) and using them as ammunition instead, e.g. Finn glancing at Noah’s lips for a millisecond during a take.
But the main point I’m getting at is that people who are dismissing Byler are not recognising that this is a traditional love triangle premise.
Now compare the canonical story to previous m/m ships
So because there are some similar activities happening in this fandom to what has been seen in those previous famous m/m ship fandoms, many Stranger Things fans are dismissing Byler as an imagined ship.
But how many of those old ships were able to boast about actual confirmed feelings, albeit one sided, with time left to explore things further?
There is absolutely no reason why the Byler ship resembles any of those “bromances” or queer baiting storylines in previous franchises and fiction.
This isn’t me saying that Byler will 100% become a couple
What I’m saying is that if nothing happens between them in season 5, that doesn’t undo the fact that Byler are a legitimate ship. It doesn’t undo the fact that Will’s feelings for Mike are canonical and that their storyline follows the premise of a traditional love triangle story.
There are people out there who are already trying to make Bylers feel stupid or ashamed for even exploring the potential of the ship, and all they’re doing is showing us how incredibly ignorant they are.
But that’s not to say that lessons can’t be learned from those previous m/m ship disasters
The one thing you should take from them is that people did get really attached, and so being let down by the show really hurt. It’s fine to speculate about Byler, but please don’t set your heart on them and let it break.
If we start to get legit info or confirmation that the ship won’t be requited, please don’t let yourself fall down the rabbit hole of conspiracy and set yourself up for disappointment.
But we have no legitimate reason to rule out Byler right now
The set up is there, the filming looks positive and the Duffers haven’t said anything to dispute the ship’s potential. Speculation is more than allowed - it’s normal and an inevitable result of season 4. So let’s have as much fun as we can and know that we’re doing nothing “deluded” or wrong.
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