Work Text:
Wake up.
Will’s eyes twitch beneath his eyelids, the light grip of sleep still holding onto him despite the creeping chill that spreads through his bones.
I said wake up, my child.
Even the warmth that had been radiating from Mike at his side feels fully blocked off from him now as that familiar cold entwines his small body seemingly from within his head, a pit of ice forming in the space inside his ribcage.
Wake up.
In an instant, Will finds his eyes snapped open, gazing blankly up at the pale expanse of the living room ceiling, breath caught in his chest as he tries to relegate proper thoughts all in a row. That endlessly echoing voice from somewhere deep in his brain, dark and haunting yet comforting… it’s Mother.
Hazel-gray eyes flitting over to the boy at his side briefly, Will catches his breath and carefully pushes himself up on his elbows to sit up. The room is lit dimly by the monochrome static of the television left to idle for too long, and a pallet of quilts are laid out over the carpet where the pair of boys had decided to camp out for their first sleepover of summer vacation. A quick glance at the clock atop the table tells him all he needs to know; the glowing-red numbers indicate it’s still the middle of the night—nearly four in the morning to be precise.
He presses a palm to his chest quietly, trying to keep his breath deep and slow as that shattering cold forces a shiver down his spine. It’s always so jarring, but… Mother’s embrace is safe. Suffocating. Loving.
“… Mama?”
What is that boy doing in your home?
Will winces a little, allowing himself to peek at Mike, peacefully sleeping all wrapped up in fleece blankets, and he pulls his knees up to his chest loosely, jaw tensing as he considers the proper answer.
“Mike’s my… friend; we’re just having a sleepover…” His voice is soft as he whispers out to her, and suddenly there’s a jolt of something that cuts through his thoughts, his eyes half closed and clouded over as his lids twitch in response.
It’s not an unfamiliar trance. She’s there in front of him, the pulsating, writhing sight of blackness almost seeming to hover there in the air before him, but she’s also not. She’s everywhere, and nowhere at all. She’s the shadows that encroach on the corners of his vision, the tightness of being all wound up in tendrils that just aren’t quite actually there.
I do not trust humans with you, Darling.
“It’s just Mike, Mama… it’s just Mike…”
Mike Wheeler’s slumber is broken by the quiet, fuzzy sound of warbled speech, whispers that sneak into his ears and yank him up forcefully from the warm solace of sleep. At first, he’s not sure if he’s still dreaming, the blurred sight of the flickering television light illuminating Will’s hunched over form, nearly trembling, just a few feet away.
After a moment to perk up a little, the curious whispering registers in his mind. It’s… nonsensical. Gibberish, even. Will’s shaky, airy voice seems slurred over words that he can’t recognize as any language he’s ever heard of before. He can’t make out any of what the other boy’s saying, but it almost seems like… he’s carrying on his half of a conversation that doesn’t exist?
Mike sits up slowly, rubbing the heel of a palm against his eyes and suppressing a yawn as he shifts himself closer to Will’s balled-up figure. He’s not sure what to do… the smaller boy seems frustrated as he mutters to himself, but not panicking like he seems to in some of his “episodes”, as Will’s mom calls them. Maybe he’s just talking in his sleep? Still dreaming?
… Until he hears his own name stuttered out amongst the almost otherworldly words Will speaks, and he quickly clasps a hand over the other’s shoulder, giving him a tiny shake.
“Will? Will, are you okay? Wake up,” Mike starts softly, his brows furrowed with concern as he leans in closer. “C’mon, Will, it’s okay, you’re okay…”
Another little shake to his shoulders. Will hardly moves.
The black haired boy grasps a little tighter to him, shaking his head as he cups a hand to the side of his face. His skin is like ice beneath his fingertips. He tries to break him out of his daze, the sight of those dark eyes’ rapid flickering beneath his thick lashes drilling worry deep into his heart. Will’s lips part around those soft, breathy whispers, the natural sound of human speech contorted into… whatever this is.
“Will… Will, please, wake up, come on!” He pleads with him, desperate to pull him out of this thing that’s keeping him trapped in his own mind. A flashback. A bad dream. Something else, it doesn’t matter. He just wants it to end.
Frozen fingers, small, snatch tight around his wrist and he tenses up in shock, wide eyes searching Will’s face only to find the boy’s expression suddenly very awake and very aware.
“M--… M-Mike?” A soft, trembling tone in Will’s voice allows the sound of his name to spill out over his lips and he blinks up at the other boy with surprise written all over his face. He doesn’t seem… distressed though. Instead, as he relaxes against Mike’s body, he almost seems completely calm.
It only makes Mike feel even more uneasy.
“Hey-- god, you’re okay…” the taller boy gives a laugh of relief, shaking his head as he allows his arms to drop back down to the quilt, though he does hesitantly grasp Will by the hand to give a little squeeze. “You’re totally freezing…”
Will stares down blankly at his hand in Mike’s, and after a tiny silence, he shrugs his shoulders, almost as though this isn’t something he didn’t expect. “… yeah, I feel pretty cold. It’s okay though.” The sound of his voice is dismissive. It’s like… nothing happened at all.
Mike pauses, a little frown tugging at the corners of his lips, and he reaches for the thick fleece blanket that had been wrapped up around himself to drape it over Will’s shoulders and wrap him in it. “There we go… all better,” he tries out a smile, “you sure you’re okay?”
“... yeah. I feel fine,” he nods, and after another pause, a little grin actually manages to quirk up on his mouth as he shifts to lean on Mike’s shoulder lightly, gratefully. “Let’s just… go back to sleep, okay?” Mike can tell that Will isn’t being completely honest with him, but… he’s not about to push him about it.
The moment that his head touches his shoulder though, there’s an oppressive heaviness that nearly chokes the air right out of his lungs, a pressure squeezing down on him from all angles. Cold.
But Will seems calm. Happy. He’s way too content to give off an uneasy, off-putting vibe like that.
Trying to catch his breath and compose himself, Mike nods slowly, shifting back down to rest his head on his pillow and inviting Will to join him at his side.
Keep away from my Queen.
Mother’s words echo, vindictive, through Will’s thoughts, but he pushes them back, if only for now. Always so possessive, so jealous, though she says it’s to keep him safe. She says it’s because she loves him. But as her frigid touch recedes into the depths of his mind once again, Will knows she’s allowing him this.
He shuffles to lay back down at Mike’s side again, tugging the blanket back up over his body almost like a cocoon, curling his body in on itself to retain the warmth that’s slowly begun to flow back through his veins. Quiet mental solitude once more.
“Goodnight, Mike.”