Title: Our Part To Play

Summary: After two months of continuous sedation and fragmented images of the brief periods in between doses, Will awakens only to discover that he is unable to reach almost all of his cluster. With a broken, almost catatonic Wolfgang his only lead to finding out the truth, Will realises that it's up to him to save his friends.

Timeline: Post S01E12, "I Can't Leave Her"

A/N: This story takes place after the Sense8 finale and will include some of my theories for a season two if it's renewed. I'd love to hear some of your own theories, so post a review and I'll try my best to incorporate them if you wish. If you just want to talk about the show or send me your theories through a pm, please do so!

Chapter One: To Serve and Protect, Or Not

Distress. Agony. Sorrow. Detachment. The emotions hit the shore of Will's mind in agonising waves, like the harsh waters of a neglected marina. The moorings that had anchored him among the depths of unconsciousness were breaking, violently snapping away as if buckling under the weight of emotion. He couldn't tell if what he was feeling was his own body reacting to his surroundings or if his inexplicable connection to eight other people was the cause. Will, though almost dazed as his senses returned one by one hoped that the former was true; because the latter meant that his friends were in danger. 'Riley.' The name wasn't verbal, but more of an erupting thought that forced his eyes open and his chest to constrict.

Deep breaths shredded his wind pipe as they fought to escape, to be free of the increasing anxiety that was making its way through Will's veins. He was sprawled out on an unfamiliar couch, the knuckles of his left hand turning white from his grip on a leather cushion. A knitted blanket was draped clumsily over him, disturbed by his abrupt awakening. "Riley," a fragmented memory of her looking down at him swam to the forefront of his mind, "Riley?" Repeating her name didn't conjure any direction as to where she was but only added to his confusion.

The grey t-shirt he wore stuck to his skin from the cold sweat that had consumed him during his artificial sleep and he was barefoot. There was no telling how long he'd been asleep or in the alien apartment, but despite losing his internal battle for a clear head, Will staggered to his feet and hunched over. His hands absentmindedly gripped his knees as he retched and coughed, dismissing the after effects of a prolonged sedation.

Will took a step forward and winced at the sunshine that graced the east side of the room. On his left was a small kitchen area, equipped with nothing more than the bare essentials. His movements were still sluggish, but eventually he made the transition from laminated flooring to even colder tiles. Discarded take out containers graced the granite countertops with chopsticks and a dozen menus surrounding them; luckily his instincts hadn't abandoned him because he immediately noticed the digital clock embedded into the oven. It was nearing four in the afternoon and with a push of a single button, Will discovered that almost two months had passed since his trip to Iceland.

An array of emotions consumed him once more and he pressed a sweaty palm against his head, groaning as the flood of emotions once again attempted to overthrow him. It was beginning to become clear that not all of his senses were his own but frequently being hijacked by those of his cluster. What had they experienced over the past two months that had made them feel this way?

"Riley?" Will whispered again, the sound travelling weakly up and out of his mouth. "Nomi?" Neither one of the names received an answer, but as Will continued calling for each of his allies, he eventually found himself standing within an illuminated conservatory. Singing birds could be heard in the distance and the muffled background noise of telephones and murmuring eventually became known. "Hello?" Will said quietly, immediately looking around for any indication as to where he was.

"You're the cop." The words were almost tangible in that they were surrounded by a foreign agony and enveloped in a thick accent.

The words were clearly rhetorical and Will didn't answer, because his eyes instinctively moved to the source of them. "Wolfgang?" Will addressed the bedridden man with a familiarity that he didn't deserve. The two had barely interacted or at least not enough to warrant the swelling balloon of relief that Will realised was in the pit of his stomach.

Wolfgang was propped up in the mobile bed, his shoulders betraying the fact that he wore the traditional clothing of a hospital patient. There were purple bruises beneath his eyes, the depth of them appearing glazed over and distant. Had Wolfgang been sick? Had Will missed that fact about him?

Will took a few cautious steps towards the man he knew so little about but was intimately connected to. "What are you doing here? Why can't I reach the others?" He looked around as he spoke, a small fraction of his mind willing the rest of the group to materialise before him. "Wolfgang," Will continued as he failed to pry an answer out of him, "what's wrong with you?" Will had failed to realise the severity of Wolfgang's condition, but now his eyes moved to the leather restraints that fed underneath the tightly tucked in duvet.

Wolfgang merely smiled, the weak expression only playing at the edge of his lips. It was evident that he could barely move, but not because the restraints were preventing him from doing so, but because his pale, gaunt frame was merely a shell of the tough German that Will had met previously.

"You missed a lot, pig." Wolfgang muttered as his breath erupted into a violent cough. The restraints held him in place but he still struggled to sit up, spittle leaking from the corner of his mouth. Will pitied him and ached with the need to free him from his binds, but in his current state, he wasn't equipped to do either. He could feel the connection waning with every passing second, and it was only a matter of time before he was back in the apartment he knew nothing about. "Kala, you must save her." Wolfgang said the words matter-of-factly, but the name was doused in an affection Will believed was only reserved for a select few. "She was taken, caged like a dog. They all were."

If there was one person in the entire world that Will knew was too pure to be mistreated, it was Kala. She was soft spoken even in the face of danger and burned with a passion that was seldom found in the world. Will pictured Kala in a number of painful situations, each one more horrific than the last. Was she hurt, or was it worse than that? Ignoring Wolfgang's murmurs for a brief second, Will tried once more to hone in on the missing members of his cluster; but unsurprisingly, he was greeted by nothing but an empty abyss.

"Stop it!" Wolfgang yelled and before Will could console the distraught man, he realised that the broken Sensate had viewed every image Will had had of Kala. The blood, the gore, the screams. "You son of a bitch, stop!" Wolfgang's cries immediately summoned the presence of various medical staff, each one hurrying around his bedside and holding his flailing body. It was only a moment later that Will realised a fourth nurse was preparing to administer a sedative, and subsequently banish Will from Wolfgang's side until it wore off.

"No, no, n-" A second later, Will crash landed back into the kitchen of the apartment in which he'd awoken and fell back against the fridge. The connection was strained, and he could only deduct that it was because the cluster had decreased exponentially. Their connection interconnected between them, and it needed all of them to survive and without them, it was like attempting to jump across a fifty foot gap unaided.