Distantly, as Will talks, he remembers his mother running her fingers through his hair, the music on the TV, their living room smelling like the dinner they’d just had, sparse but comforting. He remembers his mother looking at him, and telling him you are not a reflection of those who cannot love you. Remember this, Wolfgang. He’d wanted to ask her, what that meant, but something in the way she looked at him stopped him in his tracks. He thinks he understands now, what his mother meant. He’s worth it. To them, he’s worth it. A fic from Wolfgang's PoV, spanning the entire finale.