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The world is burning again.
The world turns as easily as it catches flame, another year passing and igniting in disaster, monsters and magic and mayhem destroying whatever remnants of normalcy they’d clung to in the moments before their forceful reminder of what waited beneath them.
But before there was hope, a childlike wonder in the fantasy world they’d discovered they lived in, the wild dream that for whatever dark side they were fighting, there was a light side to be found as well. There was still a chance for the heroes to win, for goodness to prevail, for the monsters to fall and villains to surrender.
That was before they captured her.
The fire burns around them.
Mike follows Will outside the house where everyone else sits in blank horror, too empty to think. The warm living room light spills out onto the dark yard, catching the side of Will’s jaw in a sharp glint.
“Where are you going?” he asks, grabbing at Will’s sleeve and pulling him to a stop.
He turns and the answer is written on his face, but it’s the wrong answer to the wrong question. Mike knows where Will is going. He’s asking how to stop him from going.
“El needs me.”
And his words make Mike’s breaths seize, because she’s gone she’s gone oh god she’s gone what are they going to do she’s gone—
“And you’re gonna do what?” he asks, his grip tightening on his shirt. “Just run off on your own? We need a plan, something better—”
Will stares at him with empty determination. “I’m the only one who can do this.”
“This is crazy, Will. It’s suicide! We don’t know what we’re walking into. Just—” he huffs, his hand slipping down Will’s arm. “I mean, just come back inside—”
“No,” he says and electricity thrums through the air, the high pitched tinny of television static vibrating between them. Mike jumps, dropping Will’s wrist and staring at him.
Something shifts. Mike nods.
“Okay.” He swallows and it scratches down his throat. “Okay. Just promise me you’ll come back.”
Will shoved his hands into his pockets, mouth twisting as he glances out over the empty yard. “I—”
“Will.”
He looks directly in Mike’s eyes. “I’m going to get her back.”
“And you’re going to come back, too.”
He does not respond.
“Will.”
“I’m going to do whatever it takes. I’m going to put a stop to this. I’m going to save my sister.”
“And you’re going to come back.”
“I don’t know.”
“I can’t—” His breath comes out in short gasps, and he finally lunges forward, wrapping his arms around Will. “I can’t lose you, too.”
Will’s arms find their way back around him, and they stand in the dim glow of the porch light, gripping onto each other with a strange sort of desperation.
It’s instinct to grab him, but it’s a choice to keep holding on, and it’s selfish, because he knows it’s the only thing keeping him here. He knows Will will not be the first to let go.
“Mike,” he says, and it’s a warning and a plea but he doesn’t move away, his breath ghosting over his neck. Mike’s heart thrums against his chest in a blaze of panic, the knowledge that if he lets go he may not ever get to hold him again tightening his grip.
“Okay. You’re going to save her. And you’re going to come back.”
Will does not respond, because Will does not make false promises, but he nods one single time. It means he’s going to try. It’s not enough. Mike prays it will be anyway.
“I can come with you,” he tries, desperate and hopeful all at once. “Let me come, we’ll figure out a way—”
For the first time, Will smiles, small and sorrowful. “You know you can’t.”
“Still, I could at least get you there, wait for you, make sure nothing happens—”
“You’re better off here. You can keep everyone safe.”
The truth in his words stings the worst. He is useless to Will, useless in this fight, unable to provide anything but worry and terror.
Will covers his fear in a blanket of stoicism. He’s only ever needy until someone needs him more, until Mike’s fears outweigh his own and he has to straighten his shoulders and put on a brave face and march to certain death.
There’s a certain power to him as he rolls his shoulders back and turns. “Be safe,” he says, and walks without hesitating.
You’ll never see him again, he thinks, and the thought makes it impossible to breathe. You’ll never see him again. He’s walking away and you will never seen him again. You are never going to see him again.
Fear seizes his chest and claws viciously at it, his heart creaking under the stress. He takes a few strides after him, reaching out and taking his wrist again.
“Wait. Will.” He doesn’t shout it. He doesn’t have the courage to.
He’s missing something. He has to be. There has to be a way, there has to be something, anything, to make sure Will comes back. There’s always a solution. He has to find it.
“Mike, I need to go.”
“I know, just—”
“I’ll be careful.” It sounds like a lie.
“Yeah. And you’re going to come back.”
“I—” He refuses to look him in the eye. “You know I can’t promise that.”
It’s not the right answer. Something’s still missing. He needs to come back. He has to come back. What is he going to do without him? He has to come back.
There’s so much he needs to say. He doesn’t know how.
He grabs Will by the shoulders. A breath passes between them, and he leans his head in until their foreheads touch.
This is stupid. He’s being stupid, he knows, trying to stop Will from going to her. As if he could stop the sun from rising. As if he could stop the world from turning. As if he could ever keep the two of them from saving each other.
He tries to focus on Will’s breathing, counting the spaces between them, until Will starts to untangle his grip. “Mike—”
But Mike can’t stand to hear another excuse, another deflection, another reason why he has to sit by and watch his best friend sacrifice himself and takes it upon himself to silence him the only way he can think of.
Except he doesn’t think about it, not really. It feels like the most natural thing in the world to kiss him, to wrap his hands around Will’s cheeks and pull him in, to press their lips together in one soft, swift motion.
It’s the easiest thing he’s ever done, and it doesn’t even surprise him when Will pushes back up into him, his hands wrapping into Mike’s shirt. It seems so simple, like there’s couldn’t be anything more natural, and the only thing Mike can possibly think in the moment is that he can’t ever, ever stop.
Because the second he stops, Will will be gone.
He wonders, briefly, if it would be possible to keep him here forever if he never stopped kissing him. It’s selfish, he knows, because there’s so much more at stake, but he can’t help but think how easy it would be to hold onto this one, final thing, to keep Will safe one moment longer, by just kissing him one more time.
He can’t do it, of course. But he wonders all the same.
When he finally pulls back, Will blinks at him, mouth still gaping slightly from where Mike left.
“I don’t know,” Mike says automatically, before he has a chance to ask. “I just…I don’t know, okay?”
“Okay,” Will says, concern and something dangerous mixed in his eyes.
“I just—” he tries again, tugging his fingers angrily though his own hair. “I can’t lose you, okay? You can’t just expect me to sit here and wait while you just fuck off to go die, Will. It’s not fair! It’s not fair that we have to do this, and it’s not fair that they took El, and it’s not fair that now you’re gonna go sacrifice yourself to save her, and it’s shit and it’s just—I don’t know. So you come back, I guess. For luck, or something. I don’t know. I just—I can’t lose you, okay?”
Will nods slowly, taking it all in. The weight of the night air crushes down around them, heavy and humid as the moments pass by. Finally, he reaches out and takes Mike’s hand in his, squeezing so hard he thinks his fingers are going to snap. “Okay,” he says again.
“Okay?”
He shakes his head, sighing. “Mike, I have to go.”
“Okay. Just, please—”
Before he can finish, Will pushes up on his toes and presses their lips back together for a brief, breathless moment.
When they break back apart, Will does not let him speak. “I have a sister to save,” he says, straightening himself back up. Mike only nods, watching as he turns and begins to walk.
“Good luck,” Mike says, so soft he’s not even sure Will can hear.
But sure enough, Will looks back over his shoulder and nods. “I’ll see you soon,” he says.
He leaves, and the world ends in flames.