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Mike finds Will in the upside down in the nick of time: kneeling in the woods, clutching a knife. Raising the knife toward his own eye-
“Will?!”
Will startles, but doesn't waver. He watches Mike with lidded eyes, his face in shadow, and then grips the handle with greater resolve.
Mike charges forward. “Will! Stop!”
Mike leaps on him, knocks him supine. The knife skitters to the ground, and Will scrambles for it. Mike wrestles him to the ground, pinning his hands on either side of his head.
“No- let me-!” He grunts. “It’s not what it looked like.”
“Yeah, I sure hope not, because it looked like you were about to cut your own eye out!”
Will breathes heavily. “It's not my eye anymore.”
“What?” Mike peers at him.
“It's Vecna's.”
He shakes his head. “A player only gets the eye of Vecna after they've cut their own eye out and-”
“How many times do I have to tell you that this isn't DND?” Will snaps. He kicks at Mike's legs.
Mike swears, and shifts his weight. Will has gotten stronger since the last time they did this, separated by years, miles and dimensions apart. Since their days of play-fighting, Will has been to the Upside Down twice.
“Then how do you know that cutting your eye out will make a difference?” Mike stammers.
“I just know.”
Mike tilts his head. “You just know?”
Will lunges for the knife again, but Mike tightens his grasp. “How do you know? Because Vecna showed you?”
Will purses his lips. “No.”
He doesn't sound certain.
Mike strokes his thumb across Will’s wrist. “How do you know that this isn't what he wants? That he's not compelling you to do this right now?”
“I don't, Mike! That's why I have to get him out of my head, by any means necessary-”
“Will.” His voice is soft. “Just let me try something. And, afterwards, if you still want to gouge your own eye out, or whatever-”
Will makes a choked sound, and Mike lets the pressure up without losing grip on him.
“Sorry.”
He grabs the discarded knife, makes an incision in the hem of his shirt, and tosses it out of reach. Will follows it with his gaze.
Mike tears a strip from his own shirt, and pushes Will's head back against the ground.
Will's breathing is ragged.
“Easy.”
He grunts.
Mike drapes it sideways across his face, like an eyepatch. “Remember?”
Will nods, and closes his eyes. His left hand twitches.
Mike whispers soothingly as he ties it in place. “You’re an artist, Will. At least give this a try before you ruin your depth perception forever.”
Will gives a laugh that sounds like a dry sob. “Try before you deny?”
Mike purses his lips, and wonders how much of the pizzeria Will was watching. How much Vecna was watching.
“It won't hold,” Will says. “I can tear it off in a second if he possesses me again.”
Mike shrugs. “And I can stop you.”
Will watches him seriously. “I don't think you can.”
“Are you saying I can't take you in a fight?”
His voice lifts. “Well, I was holding back.”
“So was I!” Mike laughs.
A smile tugs at Will's lips, and he shoves Mike's chest. Mike loses his footing, almost smashes face-first into Will’s sternum, only… Something holds him aloft.
He recognises the feeling of weightlessness from the quarry, the moment he stepped off the edge of the cliff, his feet refusing to dip. El holding him aloft.
He glances down.
Will's hand is raised, palm open.
Mike finds his voice. “Hey, no fair!”
Will’s voice is more serious. “I told you I was holding back.”
He drops gently into place, the fall feather-light, and slots into place as if he belongs there.
Will's arms close around him, and Mike clings to him like he's still falling. Like he never stopped.
His next words aren't what he expects.
“You came into The Upside Down for me?”
“Of course I did.”
He's still laying on Will's chest, and he can't bring himself to move. He knows they should move, but there's nothing which could break him out of this embrace.
For the moment, he lays his head down and listens to the sound of his heart beat.