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Summary
"Oh, right. You're not my Mike."
"…huh?"
Will sighs, moving his hand back to his chest, settling it comfortably under his chin.
"I thought you were," he continues, like what he was saying made any sense and he wasn't talking about Mike to Mike like they were two different people, "for a moment, at least. But my Mike doesn't look like you. Doesn't act like you."
or: after the fight at the MAC-Z, Will can feel his bones breaking even though they're completely fine and gets fed a heavy dose of painkillers that might as well function as a truth serum too.
