#I KEEP MESSING THIS UP BUT THIRD TIMES A CHARM sorry for the tags jsaidhgsklfdj

[bylerbigbang]

a swing set stuck in amber

Fic by @fireflywitch | Art by @fruity-er-things

Teen | 24k words

On the first day of kindergarten, Mike does meet Will on the swing sets and asks him to be his friend - except, this Will is an old man. A White-haired, reading-glass-wearing Will who then vanishes after “I’d like that very much, Mike” with no hint of how he’d known his name.

What follows is Mike, living his life in the right order, thank you, visited by Will’s of past and future. It’s a fun little secret, just the two of them, and Mike doesn’t mind that Will, his Will, never wants to talk about it. Until he does.

Because, Mike? Well, Mike never really wondered why Will visited him and only him. Why they were tethered together. And once he starts to wonder, it could either unravel everything, or—

Time Traveler’s Wife AU.

No warnings apply

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Read an excerpt below:

Mike held his breath, as the footsteps got closer—no way Will could’ve found him that fast—but then a man’s face peeked its head into the tree hollow and Mike yelped, hitting his head against the wood, and holding in a word his mom told him not to say.

“Oops,” said the man. “Sorry about that. Good hiding spot, by the way.”

Mike looked up and found himself face-to-face with green eyes and a familiar brown mole and before he even knew what he was doing, surged out of the tree hollow with a rush of desperation. “You!” he said, trying to look for all the similarities and differences. He’d wondered for months if he’d imagined the whole thing. “You, you’re—”

The man laughed a familiar laugh, light reflecting off his glasses. The roots of his hair were starting to whiten, and Mike could see the old man he would become, sitting on the swing set, and even scarier, Mike could see the rough outline of his best friend in the entire world. “Will.”

“Hi, Mike.” “Explain.”

The older Will tilted his head. “Explain what?”

Mike hit his head again, climbing his way out of the stupid tree, panting and knowing that—from his memory, anyway—they didn’t have much time. “Explain—this. How do you—how do you do it? How do you keep finding me?”

“Have you asked Will?” asked Will, tilting his head towards him, and Mike flushed.

“No,” said Mike. “I didn’t—I didn’t know if it was real. I was waiting, though. I knew you’d come back, I knew it.”

Older Will’s face softened into something that Mike hoped was fondness. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, I can explain it. I can try, anyway. It’s not like there’s a book, or anything.”

“Did anyone explain it to you?”

“A little bit,” said Will, a faraway expression in his eyes. “I’ll try to do a better job, though. But—yeah, it’s me. I’m Will. Just an older version of the Will you already know. And you’ve met other versions of me, too. And you’ll keep meeting them.”

“Why?” whispered Mike. “Why me?”

“We’re connected,” said Will, settling down into the limp, September leaves and crossing his legs. It was a little silly, but Mike sat the same way. “You and me. I don’t know why, exactly. Or how. But we are.”

“So you’ll keep visiting,” said Mike. “Just me?”

“Just you.”

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