Jerry's having a bad day and Florida's no stranger to bad mental health

Will = Florida

Tw: alcohol

Big thanks to guessimdemons92 for proofreading for me.

He wakes with the urge to go back to bed, so he does. He rolls over, ignoring the steady pulse of frustration at his temple and his ever growing to-do list, and goes back to bed.

It's a few hours later that Will comes in, with good intentions and a radio blaring an early 2000s song with alternating male and female vocals that he's sure his neighbors must hate him for now.

"Jerry, hey, Jerry," he wrinkles his nose and turns away from the noise, so Will turns up the radio and places it on his bedside table, "Jerry-"

"Turn it off!" Jerry puts his hands over his ears and squeezes his eyes shut, frustration now drumming a violent song in his temples.

The volume drops but the sound does not disappear. He keeps his hands by his ears, mentally begging for the pounding at his skull to stop.

There's the smell of chamomile and bacon, then Will gently tugs the blankets off of him.

"I'm going to turn off the lights, sit up." Will whispers, then goes to the lights.

Jerry doesn't move.

Will sighs, "Jerry, I'm not going to stop bothering you till you get up."

"I'll feel better tomorrow, go away." Jerry cracks an eye open to look at his bedside table, now accommodating a healthy breakfast and sketchbook.

"You don't have to do much today, but I at least want you to get up." Will is shuffling through a bag by the door now.

Jerry eyes the food for a moment, then decides it's not worth worsening his headache and lays back.

Will walks over to him, a bottle in one hand and a card in the other.

"I brought wine and one of Harper's chocolate cake recipes, get up." When Jerry makes no move, Will sits on the bed next to him and places the items on the floor.

He takes a mug from the table and holds it near Jerry, an offering.

Jerry sits up and the frustration hammers an angry beat. He winces and takes the mug from Will.

He takes a sip and Will gets up to begin fussing over the mess in his room.

"You're just like mom, do you know that?"

Will smiles from his place picking up laundry, "and you're still her favorite." He doesn't sound resentful or hurt when he says it and Jerry feels a swell of hope in his chest.

"You were always Dave's favorite anyway."

Will laughs, "that's why he gave me his manicotti recipe."

Jerry gives an incredulous, "what?"

And Will nods, stuffing the dirty clothes into a plastic bag, "I got a bunch of recipes from our parents." He ties it shut, "don't tell him I said this, but Jay's really good at baking." He says it lightly and again Jerry feels hope swell in his chest, his brother was getting better, little by little.

He could get better too and Will knows this.

There's a lump in his throat, it's formed with the thought that Will needed someone to do this for him on bad days and lodged in by the realization that he hasn't always had someone to do this.

"Jerry," he blinks slowly, "you're getting distracted, are you alright?"

Jerry can't speak past the lump in his throat and the way his vision begins to blur. Will, patient as ever, sets the bag down and sits with him.

He begins to hum his favorite song and Jerry can almost hear the blaring of horns and drums that Will loves so much.

It's grounding and helps him breathe past the lump in his throat long enough to ask, "did you need us to do this for you?"

Will snorts, "you say that like Rach would ever let me stay in bed like this," Jerry almost smiles, "her and John dragged my ass out of bed every time something like this happened, don't worry about it. You guys helped me in other ways." At Jerry's confused look, he continues, "you never judged me when I asked you to read something for me and you always let me talk about my art and stuff, it meant a lot." He shrugs and lets it sink in.

Jerry nods, "alright." He grins, "now, about that cake."

The kitchen is a mess when the two enter. Jerry's got dishes piling up and hasn't put anything away since the last time he cooked (he can't remember the last time he cooked).

Will's eyes widen when they enter and Jerry sees his mother whenever they would track mud into the house or Will found another wild animal he'd try to convince their parents to let them keep. He sees the plan forming in his brother's mind and he hears the lecture before it starts.

"Jerry-"

"I'm in college, dude, leave me alone."

Will laughs but he still looks shocked. "Y'know-"

"Don't even start!"

"I'm just saying-"

Jerry gives a dramatic groan and rolls up his sleeves to wash the dishes.

Will doesn't say anything, just starts looking for the ingredients he needs as Jerry turns on the water.

He's on the third pan when he realizes.

He turns off the water and hangs his head with a sigh, "I just got played, didn't I?"

Will gives the chaos laugh you grow accustomed to when you're part of their family and replies, "controlled chaos at its finest."

Jerry rolls his eyes and turns the water back on, "you three," he shakes his head, "and you wonder why our parents kept trying to separate you guys."

Will snickers, then tries to muffle it with his hands, "wha? Us? We-"

"Don't even pretend-"

"I've never bothered anyone, actually," this gets a burst of laughter from Jerry and giggling from Will.

The lack of conversation that follows is easy and comfortable, the absence of speech is instead filled with the running of the sink and Will rummaging through his fridge for extra ingredients.

"Jerry, man, I hate to break it to you but this is the saddest fucking thing I've ever seen." Will is, of course, referring to the emptiness of his fridge.

"I'm broke, dude."

Will gapes at him, he doesn't have to turn around to see the incredulity on his brother's face, "this isn't being broke, this is being lazy! Do you know how many cooks we have in the family? And your fridge is this empty?" Will clicks his tongue, "shameful."

"Name one thing in you fridge right now, that isn't part of a drink." Will's mouth shuts with an audible click when his go to reply of "chocolate syrup" is shut down before it can begin. "Exactly." Jerry thinks he's won, Will's never been one to lose, though.

"My guy made me pizza, the leftovers are in my fridge." Jerry knows his brother well enough to know Will was sticking his tongue out at him right now.

In lieu of admitting defeat, Jerry replies, "you know I still haven't met them yet."

Jerry knew how to push buttons just as well as Will, if the way Will clams up is anything to go by.

"What?" Will drags out the word, his voice raising slightly in pitch, "so? I'm working up to it." Will calls himself out to pick up a few ingredients from his place and comes back, "soon," he nods, "you guys will meet soon."

Jerry nods, "m-hm, I'm sure."

"Really!" Will says as he begins measuring out ingredients, "you will."

Jerry shakes his head as he dries his hand, "no pressure, Will, we'll meet 'em when we meet 'em."

"Thank you." Will says softly, frozen still beside the countertop littered with various different ingredients.

Anxiety wraps itself around Jerry's chest and squeezes until the air is gone from his lungs and tears sting at his eyes.

"Of course." Jerry replies and takes a deep breath in after. He holds it and, after a moment, releases it in the form of a heavy sigh.

Will doesn't mind, just takes his hand, gives it a reassuring squeeze, and returns to going through the steps outlined on the card.

Jerry sniffles, "fuck." Will hands him a napkin, "thanks," he wipes at his nose, "you said something about wine?"

Will smiles but makes no move to leave, "do you have glasses?"

Jerry takes the invitation to compose himself and steps away, Will does not comment on the time it takes him to retrieve the glasses.

Will opens the bottle and Jerry pours.

He sets Will's glass down in front of him and holds his own, "cheers." He holds his glass up with a smile.

Will returns the smile and humors him, tapping his glass to Jerry's, "cheers."

He then proceeds to down his glass in one go, in true Will fashion, and leave Jerry wide eyed gaping.

"Jeez, Will," Jerry snickers, "am I that annoying?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Leo and Seb are way worse."

"Are you saying I'm not chaotic?"

"Yes, yes I am." Will dumps something into the cake batter, "you're the least chaotic one in the family."

"Hey!" Jerry laughs, "that's big talk from the person who was such a quiet nerd when he was a kid our parents were actually worried he couldn't talk."

Will gasps in mock offense, "I knew you'd throw that in my face," he places a hand over his heart dramatically, "betrayed by my own blood." Will shakes his head, "I can't believe this."

"Alright, alright," Jerry waves his hand, "let's just agree Leo and Seb have always been the worst of us so you can shut up."

"Deal."

Jerry sighs, leftover anxiety releasing it's hold on his chest.

"You're going to make it through this, Jerry, I'm sure of it." Will says with a soft smile.

With the knowledge of his brother's recovery and unwavering support for Jerry's, he finds a way to feel sure of it too.