#alright gonna stop here. i have a related art piece that i finished yesterday but i've been procrastinating on posting it. hopefully should

[peridots-pixiwolf]

Highly doubt I’m the first one to point this out with seven months since act II released but. y’know the sentient terminal theory from the p-1 entry

[Start ID. An ULTRAKILL screenshot of the terminal at the end of the level 5-3: SHIP OF FOOLS. It has been tipped over on its side from the Leviathan capsizing the ship, and its Tip of the Day has been replaced with the word “Ow.” End ID]

[willelbyers]

Shadow

Summary: ‘“You would not believe the day I’ve had,” Mike sighs, tossing his bag onto the counter.

Will looks up from the stove, where he’s cooking rice. “Well hello to you, too.”’

Mike has a story to report on, and Will’s suspiciously not pleased.

Pairings: Mike/Will, background Lucas/Max, past Mike/El

Notes: It’s a future-fic, about 4,200 words, with the whole Party mentioned if not involved somehow. It’s set in the mid 1990′s, most of the Party is either done with school or going to grad school. Mike’s a reporter for the NYT, Will is a freelance artist applying for a teaching job, Lucas is going to school for engineering, Dustin is a marine biologist, El is doing vigilante work, and Max’s occupation isn’t mentioned but I’m going to tell you right now that she’s a stunt coordinator for movies. There are a few suuuper minor original characters mostly there to push the plot forward.

prompt: @ anon: Wait, my hero’s secret identity is… you? To be honest, I’d kind of always hoped… + Byeler

Posted on Ao3 here as well as written out below the cut. Enjoy!

November

“Hey,” the woman snaps, grabbing his arm. She’s young, with startlingly piercing eyes—and a really annoyed expression. “You work here?”

Mike blinks at her, coffee clutched in his hand, her own hand on his wrist. “Well, that’s what it says here.” He points at his ID, hanging around his neck, with his free hand. “Um. Who are you?”

“I need to speak with someone who can write an article,” she continues, not answering the question. “I have a story.”

“Your name, miss,” Mike insists, because look. He’d be happy to help. But she probably doesn’t have clearance to even be in the building, and if he can’t even bring Will in for the occasional lunch then he can’t let some random lady in, either.

“Kara Sigo,” she says, finally. “And before you ask, no, I’m not supposed to be here, but I need to speak with someone who’ll listen to my story.”

Mike takes a moment—just a moment. He’s bored, okay? “Okay. I can listen. Ten minutes.”

She grins at him, smile thin. “Sure. You’re gonna end up listening to me for a longer time than that, anyway.”

“You would not believe the day I’ve had,” Mike sighs, tossing his bag onto the counter.

Will looks up from the stove, where he’s cooking rice. “Well hello to you, too.”

Mike sighs again, making his way to the small fridge. “Sorry. Hi. It’s been crazy.”

“Tell me,” Will says, flicking off the burner and spooning some rice onto small plates. There’s a little bit of chicken in the fridge, so Mike pulls that out.

“Some woman came in to the building today,” Mike starts, picking up forks. “Got past security—the New York Times, what awesome safety precautions! Anyway, she told me this whole story about how some guy tried to mug her last night. And that’s not weird at all, but what she said next was.” He waves his fork before scooping up some rice. “She said that somebody, some shadowy figure, just, like. Appeared. And saved her. Knocked the guy right out and then vanished just like he’d come. She couldn’t even see what he looked like.”

Will looks startled, eyes slightly wide. His food remains nearly untouched on the counter. “Huh,” he says, letting a little huff out of his nose.

“The weirdest thing?” Mike says. “I believe her.” Will blinks and he shrugs. “We’ve seen stranger stuff, right? El, the Upside-Down, everything we know about Eight—Kali. Maybe this guy is another subject.” He leans forward onto the counter. “Should we call El? I mean, you guys have been working with Owens, trying to find the others. Maybe this is a lead.”

Will doesn’t respond for a moment, looking lost in thought, so Mike nudges him. Will looks at him. “Yeah, sure. I’ll check in with her.”

“At least,” Mike says after a moment, “I believe she believes what she saw. If this doesn’t pan out.”

“Hmm.”

They eat in silence for a while, the scraping of forks against plates the only noise.

“Oh,” Will says suddenly, setting his fork down. “Lucas called earlier. He’s got a few days off in a week, so he’s gonna come visit. Max’s schedule may line up, too, but they’re not sure yet.”

“Alright,” Mike shrugs. “Remind me to clean beforehand and we’ll be good.” He pauses. “Wait, when did Lucas call? When did you get back?”

Will shrugs. “He called around noon, and I got back at around… three in the morning? Good to know I didn’t wake you up. I tried to get home earlier, but Mrs. Rodriguez insisted on her kitchen getting finished literally yesterday so I had to finish up the paint job.”

“Man, she’s a piece of work,” Mike laughs, throwing his head back. “She’s kept you overtime at least five times!”

Will laughs, too. “Well, you’ll be glad to know that I finished that project. I’m gonna be working on a mural for that school down the street for a few weeks while my job applications get reviewed.”

“Good,” Mike says firmly. “You deserve that job, you’ve wanted to teach art for ages.”

“Thanks, Mike.” Will looks down as he says it, face slightly pink, and Mike grins. He takes pride in being one of the few who can make Will see how highly others think of him.

“Always,” Mike says, because it’s true.

Kara is sitting at his desk the next morning, and Mike stops in his tracks as he sees her. “Jesus. We really need actual security.” He plasters on a smile and walks towards her. “Miss Sigo. As much as your story interests me, you really should call ahead.”

“Kara,” she replies. “Call me Kara. You can’t be very old, and it’s weird for someone around my age to be calling me ‘miss’. And I will call ahead next time.”

“Better late than never, I guess,” Mike shrugs. There’s gonna be a next time? “So, Kara, what brings you back here?”

“My story,” she says like he’s an idiot. “Except it just got better.” She tips her head at a younger girl hovering by the wall, who Mike hadn’t noticed. “She goes to school with my younger sister. She heard my story and came to talk to me right away. She met the shadow figure, too.” Kara gestures for the girl to come over, and she does. Slowly.

“Hi,” she says, voice soft. “I’m Jen. And Kara’s right. I saw him.” She leans forward, voice dropping until she’s basically whispering in his ear. “And even better: I remember what he looks like.”

The story gets published, and there are four additional witnesses for Mike to add to the piece—two older women, an older man, and a teenage boy. The story probably is helped along by the fact that the boy is his boss’s nephew.

And there’s a drawing. One of the witnesses, the older man, is a freelance artist like Will, and Mike gives him the task of drawing what Jen had seen. And, look—it’s a good drawing but not a great likeness, there’s still far too much shadow across his face. But you can see a man there—no, a boy around, Mike’s age. Young, narrow and sharp, pale, hair flopping over his forehead, frown playing across his lips. It could be almost anyone, or at least, any young light-skinned guy. But there’s—there’s a person there.

He comes home that day in a happy daze, but as soon as he walks into the apartment he and Will share he’s met with a sharp smacking sound as a copy of the New York Times bounces off his chest.

“Ow,” he says belatedly, even though it didn’t hurt because it’s a paper. But Will is still standing there, glaring at him. “What?”

“Why did you publish this?” Will asks. He nudges the paper with a toe, and Mike feels a flash of annoyance.

“I write stuff, Will,” he says. “That’s my job. This story fell into my lap, and you know I had to take it.”

“It can’t be safe, Mike,” Will protests. “You—you know what this is like. Do you—do you see the byline?”

Mike rolls his eyes. “Yes, Will, I see my name.”

“No, Mike!” he snaps. “This is you. People will know who you are. People who might think this is fake could ruin you, and the people who committed those crimes will look at you!”

“So what? It’s not dangerous, is it? You said El didn’t know anything about this guy, so he’s not a lab subject. First-person accounts aren’t always accurate. The adrenaline can get to the witnesses. Kara and Jen and the others might have just seen some guy save them in the middle of the night and the power of suggestion got to them. It could just be a normal guy. So it’s fine.” Mike knows, as he says it, that it sounds stupid and contradictory. How would six different people have those same accounts? And it’s not like he doubts this shadow man could exist—he’s seen so much weirder. But. “Don’t take this from me, Will. Please. This is—this is big. Powers or not, this guy is giving me a real story.”

He doesn’t want to fight, and Will must see it on his face, because his own face relaxes, resigned. “Yeah. I just—yeah. I worry.”

“I know.” Mike steps forward, over the fallen paper, and hugs Will tight. “You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do,” Will mutters into his shoulder, softly, and Mike just holds him closer.

“So, Max called me yesterday and said she’d come in three days. She’s gonna try to stay with a cousin in Brooklyn, but if that falls through…” Lucas trails off as he glances out the window of diner, his implication clear. The rapidly darkening sky casts a purple haze across the restaurant.

“Of course she can stay with us,” Mike assures him, glancing at Will, in the seat next to him, to make sure there’s no dissent. There doesn’t seem to be any. “Seriously, we’ve got everything all set for you guys. Dude. Tell us what you’ve been up to!”

Lucas grins and launches into an explanation of his engineering classes at Brown, excited, and Mike can’t blame him—Lucas is so close to being done with college, for real. It’s something he and Will both can’t really relate to, seeing as they only went to typical four years and then immediately looked for a job. No; Lucas wants it all, and he’s good enough for it.

He casts a glance at Will, who is looking at Lucas, but he notices his brow is furrowed and his head tilted, like he’s listening to something faint. Mike hooks his ankle into Will’s for a moment, startling him. You okay? he mouths, and when Will just shrugs and smiles in return, Mike accepts that. Will doesn’t really hide stuff from him anymore, not since the Mind Flayer. There hasn’t really been a point.

“And you guys?” Lucas finishes. “El calls me, like, once every two weeks, so I know a little bit about Will, but Dustin’s always just talking about marine biology, which isn’t any help.” He grins a little. “But I saw that Mikey-boy has an article out! A big one, huh?” 
“Yeah,” Mike tries to tamp down a proud smile. “I didn’t really do anything. The story happened to fall to me, and I did the interviews and wrote the article.”

“He’s being humble,” Will counters, standing. “Mike’s a really good reporter. Now, I have to use the bathroom, so I’ll be right back.” He makes his way to the back, and Mike watches him until he turns the corner.

Instantly, Lucas leans across the table. “So. How are you guys?”

“We just told you,” Mike replies, confused. “Fine. Jobs are fi—”

“No, not the jobs,” Lucas dismisses. “I mean you guys. As humans. Living together still working out and everything? You… I don’t know, dating anyone?”

“No,” Mike says, maybe a little too quick for his own liking, but there’s something in Lucas’s tone that makes him nervous. Lucas doesn’t seem to notice. “I mean, living together is fine. Good. Saves money, and we get along, obviously. My job makes enough, and Will gets those government subsidies. But dating… no, not that. Too busy, I guess, and El and I didn’t carry on like you and Max did. Again. Obviously. You knew that, you were there.” God, he’s rambling for no reason. Will better get back soon, because he’s making a fool of himself.

As if on cue, Will appears from the back of the diner, smoothing down his shirt. He drops back into his seat in the booth, next to Mike. “Alright, where were we? Did I miss anything?”

“Not really, I—who, dude!” Lucas cuts himself off, eyebrows shooting up. Will looks vaguely startled by his rapid reaction. “Your nose is bleeding.”

“Oh, shit.” Mike’s startled by Will’s curse, because he doesn’t really do it, but the amount of blood pooling on Will’s upper lip probably does warrant it. He snatches up a napkin and hands it to Will, who pinches his nose with it.

“What happened?” Mike asks.

“No clue,” Will replies, muffled through the napkin. “It’s kind of dry out, that’s always what Hopper said makes some people’s noses bleed.”

“Speaking of a Hopper,” Lucas says. “El told me a little bit about that project of yours, using the lab systems to find the others. Tell me about it. As much as you can, I know it’s classified.”

Will grins around the napkin. “Oh, you’re gonna love it.”

And Mike listens, because he really does want to hear about this.

The next day, he arrives at work to find an unfamiliar boy at his desk.

“Uh, hi,” he says, and when the boy turns around Mike takes a step back. He looks terrible—sixteen or seventeen at the oldest, bruise on his cheek, cuts and scratches up his neck and onto his face.

“Hi,” the boy replies. “You’re Michael Wheeler?”

“Yep.”

“Good. Hi. I need to talk to you about the man, the man in the dark. He saved my life last night.”

“Look, Will, are you sure El didn’t know him?” Mike pesters. “I know I said it could just be a normal guy. But someone else saw the shadowy guy yesterday, barely a block from where we were with Lucas! And he gave some pretty good descriptions, and. I just. I really think he has powers.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “The kid today, James, said that this guy was… shrouded in smoke. He could disappear and reappear places, and the smoke could hold things and move stuff. And he said the guy attacking him… James said it looked like he thought he was going insane, like the shadow man was talking to him up here.” He taps his head. “I don’t know. Just. Maybe I should call El.”

“She said no, Mike,” Will insists. “Look, I’ll ask her to look into it again if you want. But maybe you should let it go. Maybe this guy is covering himself in smoke for a reason, so no one knows who he is. His face is always in shadow, right?” He sounds uncertain, like he’s not sure what to say. That puzzles Mike, because Will is always calm and collected. Ever since the Mind Flayer, Will just… knows. He knows what to do. Maybe being so close to dying gave him perspective or something, but it doesn’t matter because the bottom line is that being uncertain isn’t Will’s forte. Mike… he has to wonder what Will doesn’t want him knowing about the shadow. If maybe he knows something he shouldn’t.

“Shadow,” Mike mutters. “Yeah.”

His next piece is titled just that.

SHADOW: New York’s Silent Hero

And people read it.

Including, it appears, all the way in Amsterdam.

“Hello?” he says into the phone. Will’s out grocery shopping, and Lucas and Max are probably out at some bar, so Mike is eating dinner by himself in the kitchen.

“Mike Wheeler!” an angry voice yells, and he winces, pulling it away from his ear.

“El?” he asks. “Uh. Hi?”

“Your… article! Dad called me and told me about the… the Shadow! You should have told me sooner. I can’t look at our research until I get back from Europe!”

“You’re in Europe?”

“Amsterdam. Yes. Tracking down a lead on Six. That’s not the point. Why didn’t you call?”

“I…” Then he realizes. “I thought Will did.”

“Well, he didn’t.”

“He said he did.”

“He… what?”

Mike suddenly feels numb. “He lied to me.” It’s unreal. “He lied to me.”

“Mike,” El says, suddenly sounding hesitant. “Mike, just think for a minute—” 
“He lied.” He lowers the phone. “El. I’ll call you back.”

“No, no, Mike, maybe Will is—”

He puts the phone back into the cradle and grabs his jacket. The door slams shut behind him.

He runs down the street, in the direction of the store Will said he was going to, thoughts going by as fast as his feet are taking him.

Because Will lied to him. And the thought crosses his mind—maybe Will is the Shadow. The heroics make sense. But he can’t be, because Will doesn’t have powers, hasn’t shown any sort of ability in the ten-plus years the Upside Down has been open to him.

So it can’t be him. But. Will knows something.

A yell catches Mike’s attention and he skids to a stop, backtracking slightly to glance down an alley. And—

There’s a man in there, a young girl scrambling back, as the shadowy figure puts distance between them.

It takes Mike’s breath away for a moment—the interviews really didn’t do his appearance justice. The shadows are inky, darker than the night sky, spiraling around to safely shield the girl and trap the man. His feet don’t seem to touch the floor, and his eyes are pinpricks of light in the dark. It’s—something. It’s really something.

The girl finally makes it to Mike, but she doesn’t stop. She stumbles to her feet and runs, and that’s when the man turns—probably to catch his target before she can leave.

Instead, he sees Mike.

Mike hears the gun before he sees it—a bang and then a flash of dark metal. He’s ninety-nine percent sure it’s a killing shot and there’s not even enough time to brace himself and then—

It stops. The bullet stops, midair. And then it drops to the ground.

“Put the gun down,” Shadow says, and his voice is really terribly familiar, laced with an echoey tone that makes him sound a million miles away, “or I will make you.”

The man doesn’t do it, frozen in place, glaring.

“Put it down,” he repeats, and the man’s hands shake a little but don’t let go.

“Fuck outta here,” the man swears, entire body taut like a stretched rubber band. Shadow glares at him and he twitches violently. “Get out of my head!”

“Your mind is strong, I’ll give you that,” Shadow says. He tips his chin down and the gun throws itself out of the man’s hand, clatters to the ground. “Sleep.”

And that’s really all it takes. The man drops like a brick.

Shadow kneels down and touches his forehead, black fingerprint staying marked on skin for a moment before fading. Then he turns to Mike, face shrouded in black mist. “Don’t worry,” he says. “He’s not dead. Just forgetting.”

And that echo is gone, so Mike can hear his voice—his real voice.

“Will?” he says, hating how his voice trembles.

The shadows drop, abruptly dissipating into the night. Will’s feet come back down that half inch until he’s standing flat on the ground. He looks just like he always does as he takes a hesitant step forward. “Mike.”

Mike hears himself make a strangled noise. “How? When?”

“I don’t know,” Will says softly. “I think… this is something I’ve had for a really long time. But I couldn’t… I didn’t know I could do anything like this until recently. Not even El knows. I didn’t tell her.”

“You didn’t tell her,” Mike repeats. “She called me. Said—”

“I know,” Will interrupts. “I. I can hear the radios and telephones. I heard. I knew you were coming.” He smiles crookedly, apologetically. “I was hoping to get home before you could find me out here and yell at me, but. I got busy.” He sighs. “I didn’t mean for you to see this. I didn’t want you to know.”

“You lied,” Mike snaps. “You lied to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Will says helplessly. “Mike, really. I’m sorry. I just… I had to.” He closes his eyes for a minute, shakes his head. “I had to.”

“Why?” This is unfathomable to Mike. Will is and has always been an open book to him, and it hurts that Will would keep something like this from him.

Will doesn’t answer the question. “I can make you forget, if that’s what you want. I can erase the last hour from your memory. We could just… go back to before.”

“Is that what you want?” Mike asks, too stunned by the suggestion to process the revelation that Will can apparently do that. “You want to shut me out again? Why?”

“Maybe we should finish this conversation at home,” Will answers instead.

“But—” he starts, and then. If there’s one thing Mike knows, it’s not to push Will in a direction he doesn’t want to go. So he stops. “Okay.”

Will steps forward. “Don’t freak out, okay?”

“Wh—”

Will’s hand closes around Mike’s wrist and then they’re home, world dissolving and solidifying around them. He stumbles and Will catches him, pulling him close.

And, wow, they’re very close to each other.

“Whoa,” Mike breathes.

“I’ll be honest,” Will says, voice low, “I’ve never tried that with another person before.”

Mike’s brain isn’t working, so of course his mind jumps to their ongoing, unpleasant conversation. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Will’s grip loosens, eyes darting to the floor, and Mike finds his own balance. “I was scared,” Will says simply. “This… thing I do, the helping people… it can be dangerous. When I saw you were writing the articles, I guess I freaked out even more. I want you to be safe.” He takes a deep breath, and when he lets it out it appears as dark smoke. He frowns, annoyed, and waves it away. “And in the beginning, I didn’t know what was going on, what was wrong with me. I know how you feel about Kali, how… dark her powers can get, and I… I didn’t want you to think that about me; think less of me.” He finally looks back up at Mike, eyes meeting. “I didn’t want you to look at me any differently.”

“I would never,” Mike says earnestly. Because this revelation doesn’t change anything. He’s still Mike and Will is still Will, and they’ve been best friends and they still live together and work well and Mike still loves him.

“You’re already doing it,” Will counters quietly. “You didn’t see your face back in the alley. You don’t see your face right now. You’re looking at me like… like…” He trails off, frustrated. “I don’t know. Like how we all looked at El when she killed Brenner. Like she’d done something good, but also something horribly irreversible.” He sighs harshly, rubbing a hand over his face. “It was stupid of me to suggest wiping your memory. I just… don’t know if I could handle you looking at me, knowing what I can do.”

“Hey.” Mike acts without thinking, stepping forward and taking Will’s face into his hands. “You’re still Will, alright? If I’m looking at you differently it’s because circumstances are different, not you. You’re still you. I could never think less of you. And I forgive you, because I understand.” He takes a breath. “And I love you.”

And. Oh. He hadn’t realized it until he said it. That’s a thing. He’d almost forgotten because… it just hadn’t been an issue. He’s pushed it back for so long. But right now… Will is really close. Really close. In-Mike’s-hands close.

Will’s expression is guarded and cold, like he’s trying to distance himself, but there’s pink present high on his cheeks. “Oh.”

Which isn’t an answer Mike had really expected. “Will,” he says.

“Mike,” he responds.

Mike swallows. Hard. Christ, he’s going to do it. “Tell me if… if I overstep, alright?”

Will nods, and Mike just. Goes for it. He kisses Will, firmly, and yeah, Mike’s in love with him. Shadow powers and nightmares and quietness and all. And Will’s not pulling away, either.

“Are you disappointed?”

Mike frowns. They’re tangled up together on the couch, the TV on with the volume low. “What?”

Will shrugs, shoulder digging into Mike’s side. “The… Shadow. You called him a hero, in your article, and I’m just—I’m not that. Are you disappointed that it’s me?”

“Why would I be?” Mike asks, perplexed. “Will. He’s a hero, and my career kind of rests on him for the moment, but you. You’re incredible. You’ve been a hero for forever. I’m glad it’s you.”

Will shifts a little, leaning up, and Mike can see his grin in the dark. “I love you,” Will says, and Mike feels like his heart is going to combust.

“I love you, too.” Maybe it’s too early to be at the ‘I-love-you’ stage, after not even two hours of feelings being out in the open. Maybe they shouldn’t be as stupidly love-struck as Mike definitely is.

But maybe, Mike thinks as he leans down to kiss Will again, maybe this has been years in the making.

Thanks for reading, everyone! Leave me a comment if you’d like. My other stories are here.