Chapter Text
The hideout smelled like ozone and burned metal—like the air itself hadn’t decided whether it belonged to the right world yet.
Will sat on the floor with his back against the wall, knees pulled to his chest, palms resting open on his thighs as if they were still holding something invisible. His head throbbed faintly, not pain exactly, but the echo of something that had listened when he called.
Across the room, Lucas stared at him like Will might suddenly float.
Robin broke the silence first, because of course she did.
“Will,” she said, blinking rapidly, a proud, disbelieving smile tugging at her mouth, “you took out that demo with your mind?”
Will shifted, shoulders curling inward. “I mean—”
“Three,” Mike cut in immediately, voice sharp with something between awe and urgency. “Three to be exact.”
Lucas snapped his fingers. “Simultaneously.”
Will shot Mike a look—half warning, half something softer—and swallowed. “I didn’t really— I just focused and then it was like… pulling threads. I didn’t even know there were three until—”
“Well butter my butter and call me a biscuit,” Murray said loudly, leaning back in his chair. “Kid’s a walking X-Men audition.”
Robin pointed at Will like she’d just won bingo. “A real-life wizard.”
Erica scoffed without looking up from where she was leaning against the table. “Sorcerer, actually. Wizards study. Sorcerers are born with their powers.”
“Innate,” Mike added instantly. “Yes. Thank you.”
Erica nodded once, satisfied.
Lucas frowned. “Why does that matter?”
“It matters,” Erica said flatly.
“It matters,” Mike echoed, just as firm.
Lucas opened his mouth, then closed it, glancing between them. “Okay, damn. Sorry I asked.”
The conversation fizzled after that, settling into an awkward quiet filled with the low hum of the lights and the distant drip of water somewhere deeper in the building. Will rubbed at his wrist, the place where the feeling had first sparked—cold, then burning, then clear.
“I’m gonna get some water,” he muttered, pushing himself up.
Before Mike could even think to respond, Robin was already on her feet. “Same. Brain’s overheating.”
They disappeared into the next room.
The door shut.
Mike exhaled slowly through his nose and tipped his head back against the wall.
Of course.
Joyce clapped her hands together from the kitchen area. “I’ll see what we have to eat,” she said, already moving.
“I’ll help,” Lucas offered.
Erica followed, grinning. “You will help.”
And just like that, Mike found himself alone in the hall with Murray, who was watching him with the exact expression of a man who had just solved a puzzle and couldn’t wait to announce it.
There was a long beat.
Then Murray spoke.
“You’re in love with him, and he’s in love with you, and it’s like a goddamn tragedy, because you look at him and see the stars, and he looks at you and sees the sun. And you both think the other is just looking at the ground.”
Mike’s head snapped forward. “What?”
He crossed his arms immediately, defensive reflex kicking in hard. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”
Murray rolled his eyes. “Like how you’re not having any with neither of them. Get out of your head, Michael.”
Mike scoffed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Murray muttered something under his breath—something about denial and teenage emotional constipation—that made himself laugh.
Mike opened his mouth to argue when he heard it.
Laughter.
Not Murray’s.
He turned just in time to see Erica leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.
“Whatever the bald Santa said,” she said breezily, “I agree with it.”
She winked.
Mike groaned. “Can everyone stop psychoanalyzing me for five minutes?”
“Nope,” Erica said cheerfully, pushing off the doorframe and heading back toward the kitchen.
The door to the other room finally opened.
Will stepped out first, hair a little messier than before, cheeks flushed. Robin followed, still smiling, still talking—something low, something that made Will duck his head and laugh under his breath.
Mike’s chest tightened.
They looked… easy. Comfortable. Close.
Too close.
Will didn’t look at Mike. Didn’t even glance.
He went straight for the kitchen.
Mike swallowed hard and stared at the wall like it had personally offended him.
Dinner was quick. Quiet in the way that meant no one wanted to touch what was really going on. Joyce fussed over everyone, Robin filled the gaps with rapid-fire chatter, Lucas and Erica whispered about strategy, and Will stayed close to the counter, hands wrapped around his cup like it was an anchor.
Mike barely tasted anything.
Afterward, maps were spread out, theories tossed around, voices overlapping as they tried to figure out how to reach the others still trapped in the Upside Down.
“We’ll need the amplifier,” Murray said, tapping the table. “Garage.”
“I can get it,” Will offered automatically.
“I’ll go,” Mike said at the same time.
Murray’s mustache twitched.
“Perfect,” he said far too quickly. “You two. Go.”
Robin shot Erica a look. Erica smirked back.
Joyce, oblivious, nodded. “Be careful.”
The garage was colder than the rest of the hideout, the concrete floor biting through the soles of Mike’s shoes. Will rummaged through shelves, focused, humming softly under his breath.
Mike stood there for a moment, watching him. The way his shoulders moved. The way he tilted his head when he concentrated.
The words burned their way out before he could stop them.
“So,” Mike said, voice tight, “you and Robin are a thing now?”