WSQK, minutes after the chaos.
The transmitter was still sparking, as if it held a leftover piece of the power that had burst through the air when Will Byers lit up to save Mike Wheeler. Outside, the storm kept roaring.
Mike sat in the spinning chair in front of the control panel, hands shaking against his knees. Will stood a few feet away, breathing like he’d only just returned to his own body, but relief in certain way.
“Does anything hurt?” Mike asked, not looking at him. His voice sounded cracked.
Will blinked, still dazed.
“No. Or… I don’t know. It feels strange. Like I used a part of myself I didn’t know was there.”
Mike finally lifted his head. His expression was that familiar mix of anger and fear, but now there was something else too, something close to reverence.
“Will… you almost collapsed in my hands,” Mike said, fists clenching. “I thought you-”
He couldn’t finish the sentence. The word lose seemed stuck in his throat.
“I’m here,” he said softly. “I promise I’m here.”
Mike let out a breathless, nervous laugh.
“Yeah, you’re here. You just… did something impossible because I was in danger. How am I supposed to make sense of that?”
Will tilted his head, genuinely confused.
“I did it because I needed you alive.”
The word dropped into the room like a weight-heavy, inevitable. Will swallowed.
“You’re the one person I’d do that for without thinking.”
Mike straightened in his chair. He didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe.
“Will… that sounds like-”
“It’s exactly what it sounds like,” Will interrupted gently, literal and bare. “I’m not going to disguise it.”
Lightning flashed through the windows.
In that brief burst of light, Mike stood up so fast the chair spun behind him.
“Say it again,” he whispered, desperate. “Please.”
Will stepped closer. The faint glow in his fingers flickered once, shy, answering him.
“I’d do anything for you.”
The transmitter crackled again.
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