Will followed him immediately. Mike peeked out of the hole, looking at the sink and froze. A loud groan echoed.
“Oh, shit,” he breathed.
They both climbed into the bathroom quickly.
The pipe burst. Water sprayed straight up like a fountain, drenching both of them instantly. Mike yelped, slipping on the wet tile. Will grabbed his arm to keep him from face-planting.
“This is fine! Totally fine!” Mike whispered, though his voice cracked somewhere between panic and laughter.
Will whispering back, desperately. “I… I don’t think it’s fine!”
Water shot all over the floor, splashing across their shoes. Mike grabbed a hand towel, crouching, as he attempted to wrap it around the leak, then realized it was hopeless. The water had a mind of its own.
Mike slipped again, bumping elbows against Will in the process. Their brief contact lingered longer than it should have, but neither of them noticed, too busy screaming over the roaring water.
“Airlock! Jacket! I got it! Will take off your jacket!” Mike yelled, holding the towel as best he could.
Will laid beside him, trying to take off his jacket and muttering under his breath. “It’s… not… working!”
Mike groaned, letting his head fall. “Of course it’s not working! Why would it work?! This is crazy”
Will laughed, breathless, sliding slightly on the soaked tiles. “Crazy is our specialty!”
They wrestled the pipe together for a few more frantic moments, but it was hopeless. Water was everywhere. Towels were useless.
“Hold it. Hold it. Hold it! Here, try this!” Will said, voice low and urgent, hands steady as they pressed the leak together with their hands.
Just then, a little girl walked in.
Mike straightened slightly, brushing a wet strand of hair from his eyes. “Hey… sorry. Bit of a plumbing problem here. Are you by chance looking for Mr. Whatsit? Right through there,” he asked, voice tight with adrenaline.
To both their horror and surprise, the young girl bolted out of the room, yelling for soldiers as she ran.
Mike gritted his teeth, hands slick with water. “Shit—Lucas! We’ve been spotted!”
“No, no!” Lucas’s voice crackled back over the walkie, guiding them.
They both strained, holding the water back long enough for Derek and the rest of the children to appear through the bathroom door, soldiers hot on their heels. The water sprayed across the tiles, soaking everything in sight.
Derek’s hands were pressed against the door, muscles straining, trying to keep it closed while the kids behind them scrambled for safety.
A loud crash shook the door. “Open the door! Now!” one of the soldiers shouted.
Derek’s hands pressed harder. “I can’t hold it much longer!”
Mike and Will rushed to help.
The kids shrieked, slipping slightly on the wet tiles. Mike tried to herd them into the tunnel to Lucas, one hand on a child’s shoulder, the other bracing the door. “Come on, come on!”
The soldiers slammed again. The door shuddered. Mike and Will exchanged a panicked glance. “Oh no… oh no… oh no!” Mike muttered.
“Hold it! Hold it! Hold it!” Will shouted, pressing all his weight against the door.
The wood cracked. Derek gritted his teeth. “Shit balls!”
The door gave way with a loud crash, swinging inward as the soldiers barreled in. Mike stumbled, Will caught his arm, and Derek shouted, “Go! Get them out!” as Lucas escorted remaining kids down the ladder.
Mike’s eyes widened as the soldiers’ flashlights hit them. Joyce was there now, arms wrapped protectively around a small child. One other kid huddled near the far wall, wide-eyed and terrified. Mike and Will pressed themselves together in the chaos, trying to shield the children and keep their footing on the slick floor.
“Where do you think you’re going?” one soldier barked, pointing a gun.
Mike swallowed, glancing at Will. Water ran down their faces, clothes plastered, hair dripping, elbows brushing as they instinctively leaned toward each other.
The soldiers had grabbed them before Mike could react, hauling him, Will, Joyce, and Derek outside into the blinding floodlights of the MAC-Z perimeter. Two other kids trailed behind, shivering, eyes wide with terror. Mike’s hands were still dripping wet from the chaotic bathroom pipe, and his stomach churned as he tried to process what was happening.
“Let go of me, you asshole!” Joyce screamed, wrenching against the soldiers’ grip as Mike struggled beside her.
Lt. Sullivan barked, his face hard, eyes narrowed. “You want to explain to me what in God’s name is going on here?”
“Get the hell off me,” Mike shouted, shoving back against the nearest soldier, the tension coiling tight in his chest.
“We’ve got five missing kids, sir,” Private Chapman said, voice sharp.
“Listen,” Joyce shouted, her eyes darting between Sullivan and the children. “These kids, they are not safe, okay? They are in danger!”
Sullivan’s face didn’t soften. “And why exactly do you think they’re here, ma’am? Hmm? They’re under our protection.”
Mike’s stomach dropped. His gaze flicked to Will, who stood slightly to the side, pale and tense. He didn’t say anything, but Mike could feel that something had already shifted in him, a presence that went beyond fear, beyond the normal panic of the situation.
“If I may interject, officer,” Derek said, voice tight, “I’ve seen what’s coming. And no disrespect, but you and your men can’t protect shit!”
“Private!” one of the soldiers barked.
Mike’s hands went up reflexively. “Hey! Hey!” he shouted, trying to maintain control.
“Get off him!” Joyce yelled simultaneously, her voice urgent, sharp.
Sullivan barked again. “Hey, Private! What the hell is wrong with you? Keep your hands off him!”
Footsteps pounded across the concrete, heavy, erratic. Derek muttered under his breath. “Is that all the military does? Hit kids?”
Mike didn’t have time to answer; his stomach dropped the moment he saw Will stumble.
The boy’s legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground, shaking violently, panting hard, shoulders heaving as if the air itself was too heavy to breathe. His hands clawed at the floor, and for a moment, Mike froze, every instinct screaming that something was wrong.
A soldier’s hand grabbed his arm, trying to drag him back. Mike didn’t hesitate. He ripped himself free, yanking against the grip with all his strength. “Let me go!” he shouted, voice raw. “Will!”
He lunged forward, sliding across the slick concrete, ignoring the chaos around them. His hands were on Will in an instant, gripping his shoulders, shaking him gently. “Hey! Hey! Look at me! You’re okay! I’ve got you!”
Will gasped, still trembling, and Mike pressed close, shielding him instinctively. His heart thudded so hard he could barely think.
For a few breathless seconds, the world narrowed to Mike and Will, wet, shaken, terrified—and Mike realized he didn’t care about anything else in that moment. He just needed to make sure Will was okay.
Then Joyce was at their side.
“Baby… are you okay?” Joyce’s voice was sharp, pleading.
Will’s chest heaved. “They’re here,” he gasped, voice trembling, barely audible over the crackling electricity that suddenly lanced across the facility.
Metal plates shuddered. Lights flickered violently, painting the soldiers’ faces in harsh strobe. Gunshots rang out, followed by loud banging. The distant snarls of Demogorgons drew closer. Mike’s stomach dropped, every instinct screaming to run, to fight, but they were outnumbered, outgunned, and outmatched.
“Take the nearest threat! Engage on sight!” Sullivan barked, and Mike felt his blood freeze. Derek shouted behind him. “We’re all gonna die! We’re all gonna die!”
Mike spun, grabbing the closest kids, yanking them behind him instinctively. “Guys! Guys! Get behind me! Get behind me!” he barked, voice cracking. Roars echoed as monstrous bodies lunged toward them.
“Move! Move! Move!” he screamed, shoving the children toward Joyce, who caught them mid-step.
Mike hoisted Will up by his shoulders, and they began to run.
Mike’s arms were still shaking from holding Will as the boy had collapsed, but there was no time to pause. He supported him as best he could, guiding the children through the wrecked battlefield, sloshing puddles and debris underfoot. His voice was harsh and sharp:
“Stay close! Eyes on me!”
The kids followed, stumbling, crying, but trusting him because he wouldn’t let them fall. Joyce was just ahead, helping Derek and the other children maneuver through the chaos. Mike stayed in front of the group, every instinct screaming to keep them safe, keep moving.
They were almost at the Radio Shack, almost to a relative safe point, when a Demogorgon landed right in front of them, massive and snarling, blocking their path. Its red, glistening mouth opened wide, claws scraping concrete. Mike froze for a fraction of a second.
Then a soldier pulled a flamethrower trigger, igniting the creature. Flames licked its sides, smoke curling into the air. Relief surged in Mike’s chest for half a heartbeat. Until he heard it.
Will’s scream.
It wasn’t just panic; it was pure agony. Mike’s stomach dropped as the boy’s back arched, his hands clawing at his ears, legs giving way. He fell to the ground, writhing, screaming, trembling uncontrollably.
“Will!” Mike shouted, lunging toward him, but Joyce was faster. She grabbed him, dragging him backward toward safety, her arms wrapped tight around the boy as he continued to shriek. Mike’s hands hovered over them, helpless, shielding the children behind him, his heart hammering in his throat.
The sound of Will’s screaming cut through everything, raw and unbearable. Mike pressed a hand to his chest, jaw clenched, trying to stay calm for the kids, for himself—but every second felt like torture. He wanted to be holding Will, wanted to take that pain away, but there were too many of them, too much chaos.
Mike kept his eyes forward, leading the remaining kids through the wreckage, until he finally glanced back.
And froze.
Vecna was walking toward them, moving with impossible calm through the debris, stepping out of the MAC-Z gate to the Upside Down. The air around him vibrated, oppressive, full of menace. Mike’s stomach dropped.
Before he could think, Vecna struck. Soldiers were thrown, grenades detonated, flamethrowers were destroyed. Mike had no time to react except to push the kids down, shield them as best he could.
A grenade exploded near him, and Mike felt himself and the children launched backward, slamming into the concrete. Pain exploded across his body, but worse was the terror, he could see Will, still writhing, still screaming, now being levitated into the air. Mike’s gut twisted as Vecna’s hand moved over the boy, unseen words shaping something Mike couldn’t comprehend.
Mike’s throat went dry. He could only watch helplessly as Will hovered, muscles straining, arms flailing, and then Vecna’s forces, the Demogorgons, grabbed the children. They were being dragged, screaming, through the open gate into the Upside Down. Mike’s hands clenched in fists, but he couldn’t reach them. Couldn’t do anything.
Then Vecna returned through the gate, leaving Will panting on all fours, chest heaving, trembling.
Mike wanted to run to him, to kneel beside him, but there was no time.
Mike’s head snapped up just in time to see it climbing out of the rift, massive claws scraping the concrete, snarling. The world slowed for a moment.
Mike’s stomach dropped as the Demogorgon lunged, massive claws outstretched, snarling. He didn’t have time to dodge, didn’t have time to think. All he could do was close his eyes, bracing for the impact.
A heartbeat later, he flinched, but there was no pain.
Slowly, Mike opened his eyes. The creature hung in midair, suspended like it had hit an invisible wall.
His gaze darted around in disbelief, trying to figure out what had happened. Nothing made sense. This shouldn’t be possible.
And then he saw Will.
The boy was on his feet, trembling slightly but strong, arm outstretched toward the suspended Demogorgon. His eyes were wide, white, glowing faintly with something that radiated power, control, and terror all at once. Mike’s heart thudded violently in his chest.
It hit him. Will was doing this.
Every instinct he had screamed in disbelief, fear, and something he didn’t want to name. The Demogorgon shrieked, twisting, writhing, but it was entirely powerless. One by one, its limbs snapped, contorting grotesquely, and Mike watched, frozen, utterly incapable of looking away.
Then Will fell to his knees, trembling, chest heaving, the glow in his eyes fading. Mike’s chest tightened so sharply he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He stood there, frozen in place, heart pounding, staring at Will as if seeing him for the first time.
In that instant, all the chaos, all the screams, all the terror melted away in Mike’s mind. All he could see was Will, so small, so strong, so utterly terrifying and brilliant.
Will lifted his head slowly. The glow in his eyes vanished, returning to their usual hazel-brown. Blood streaked his nose, and he swiped at it casually, as if nothing extraordinary had just happened. His chest rose and fell, shaking slightly, and for a moment Mike simply stared, heart hammering, breath shallow, caught somewhere between awe and pride.
Mike skidded across the concrete, ignoring the rubble, the smoke, the stench of singed metal. He watched Will as Joyce crouched beside him, wrapping her arms tight around her son. Mike’s heart leapt in both relief and disbelief,Will was trembling, still pale, but he was alive.
“Oh, baby,” Joyce whispered, pressing her forehead to his shoulder.
“Mom,” Will murmured back, voice raw, but steadying, as though he were forcing himself to breathe through the chaos that still clung to him.
Mike ran over, grinning despite the tension, adrenaline still thrumming through his veins. “He’s a sorcerer,” he said, voice bursting with disbelief and pride. “A real-life, honest-to-God sorcerer.”
Before Will could react, Mike enveloped him in the biggest hug he could manage, squeezing tightly, as though holding him could keep everything else from falling apart. Will’s small frame shuddered against him, and he whispered, “Mike…”
“You did it,” Mike said, still holding him close. “You really did it.” His voice was soft now, reverent, but his hands didn’t let go.
Will pulled back slightly, enough to breathe, and Mike could see the weight in his eyes, the power he had just wielded, the horror he had seen, the lives lost despite his strength.
“The kids,” Will said, voice trembling. “Vecna… he’s got the kids.”
Mike’s grin faltered, replaced by the sharp stab of worry. “I know. Derek, Mary, Glenn…” His voice caught, and he swallowed hard, trying to keep it together.
“No. Not just them,” Will whispered, pain and guilt lacing his tone. “The others… they didn’t make it out of Hawkins. I could’ve helped them fight if I had just acted sooner. But I… I was too late. And now he’s got all of them. All twelve.”
Mike’s stomach dropped. Twelve children, gone. He swallowed, chest tight, and reached out, brushing a hand over Will’s shoulder. “Hey… you saved us,” he said softly. “You saved me.”
Will’s eyes flicked up at him, the glow of his power gone now, replaced with exhaustion and blood-streaked determination. Mike’s heart twisted. He wanted to tell him how proud he was, how terrified he had been, how he couldn’t stop thinking about him, but words failed him.
Instead, he simply stayed close, letting Will lean against him, letting him breathe, letting him be the sorcerer, the boy who had just done something impossible.
The roar of helicopter blades cut through the night air, reminders that Hawkins was far from safe. Mike’s eyes flicked to Joyce and then back to Will. “Come on,” he said, voice firm but gentle. “We need to move. Tunnel system. Now.”
Will nodded, wobbling slightly on unsteady legs. Joyce pulled him into her arms again, murmuring reassurance, and Mike stayed by his side, guiding him toward the ladder into the tunnels beneath the Radio Shack.
As they ran, Mike couldn’t help but glance at Will again, heart hammering. He was terrified, in awe, and… maybe something more. Something he would have to figure out later. But right now, all that mattered was keeping Will safe.
Lucas lay against the wall of the tunnel, clutching his chest. Joyce crouched beside him, hands gentle and sure, while Will hovered nearby, still trembling slightly from the effort of what he’d just done.
“Lucas?” Mike asked, voice careful.
“Shit,” Will muttered under his breath, eyes flicking to the boy.
“Oh, no,” Joyce groaned, crouched beside them.
“Hey. Hey, guys,” Lucas said, forcing a grin through the pain.
“Lucas,” Mike said sharply, feeling his chest tighten.
“Just a scratch,” Lucas said, pointing to his chest weakly.
“Mike, first aid,” Joyce snapped, exasperated but relieved.
Mike rolled his eyes but continued, fumbling with the bandage. “Let’s see…”
Will leaned closer, groaning. “Shit, shit, shit…”
“Can you lift your shirt? Show us?” Mike asked.
Lucas winced but complied, and Mike’s eyes scanned the wound carefully. “Ugh… not too bad.”
Will spluttered beside him, still pale. “That’s… not too bad.”
Lucas laughed weakly. “Oh, shit.”
Mike smiled faintly. “Yeah. Looks like just the right amount for a couple of badass scars.”
Lucas’s grin faltered. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect the kids.”
Will shook his head, voice soft but firm. “You did everything you could. You… you fought. You risked your life. Nice swing, by the way.”
“You saw?” Lucas asked, astonished.
Mike chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “He more than just saw.”
Lucas blinked at Will. “So, Demos floating, limbs snapping, dying… that was all you?”
Will hesitated. “I mean… yeah.”
“Holy shit. Holy shit,” Lucas muttered, awe-struck. “You know what this means, right? You’re like Will the Wise, but for real.”
Will rolled his eyes, dismissive. “Not really.”
Mike grinned, stepping a bit closer to Will, unable to keep the admiration from his voice. “He’s more like a sorcerer than a wizard.”
Lucas laughed weakly. “Okay... yeah. I mean, sure. But you get what I’m saying, right? Like… this totally changes the game. We got our second El.”
Will’s face fell slightly. “I’m not like a second El. I don’t have powers. I’m just… siphoning. I’m stealing Vecna’s. And to do that, I have to be near the hive mind, and Vecna’s not coming back.”
“But his Demos might,” Lucas pressed, worry creeping into his tone.
Will shook his head. “I don’t think so. They came for the kids, and he’s got them all. He has his vessels.”
“‘Vessels’?” Mike and Lucas both say at the same time, brow furrowed.
“I- That’s just what he called them,” Will said quietly, eyes flicking to Mike for a moment. “He said, ‘vessels for reshaping the world.’”
Mike swallowed hard. “I just… I just hope your theory’s wrong.”
“What theory?” Joyce asked, glancing between the boys.
“November 6th,” Lucas said, voice low but steady. “The day all this started… is the day it ends.”
He inhaled painfully, as they began to walk forward.
“You good?” Mike asked softly, placing a hand on Lucas’s shoulder.
“Okay, Lucas, take it slow. Take it slow. I got you. I got you,” Mike murmured, keeping his tone calm, steady as he led them out of the tunnel.
They were sitting in the basement of the WSQK, finally back in some semblance of safety.
Will leaned back against the wall, pale but steadying himself, dabbing at the blood on his nose. Joyce fussed softly over him. Lucas rested nearby, rubbing at his bandaged chest and grinning weakly. Mike stayed a little back, arms folded loosely, just watching.
He called them vessels.
Mike’s mind kept returning to that word, echoing through the silence of the WSQK basement. Why had Will called the children vessels? He remembered the moment vividly: the tunnels, the chaos, the children being dragged through Vecna’s gates, and Will’s pale, terrified eyes, glowing with something far beyond their understanding.
Mike glanced at Will, who was sitting a few feet away on a battered couch, shoulders hunched, hands trembling slightly as he stared at the floor. He looked exhausted, drained, but alive.
The word “vessels” had come out so casually, almost like a whisper. Like it wasn’t even Will saying it, but someone else through him. Mike remembered the look on Lucas’s face in the tunnels, the way they both had glanced at Will and silently thought, what the hell? And Will had shrugged it off, muttering, “That’s what Vecna calls them.” But Mike’s gut told him that wasn’t the whole story.
Something felt… off.
Mike’s gaze kept flicking to Will, noticing small things, the twitch of a finger, the way his eyes lingered a fraction too long on the ceiling, like he was thinking about something else entirely.
His mind looped the word again: vessels. Not children. Just vessels. It didn’t make sense, and yet it stuck. A quiet, unsettled thought, one he didn’t speak aloud. One he might not even fully understand yet.
For now, he let it sit in the back of his mind. He watched Will. He stayed ready.
Then Mike hesitated, just for a moment. He wanted to sit closer, to be near him, and make sure he really was okay. But the unease in his chest made him pause. His mind whispered caution, telling him to stay back, to give space.
And then he shook it off. For now, it didn’t matter. Will was here, breathing, alive. That was what mattered.
For now, he would push the odd feeling aside. He would watch. He would be ready. And he would let himself sit near Will, because it felt right, and because that was what mattered in this moment.
