Will had to be the one to save Riley. And not because he loved her. Not just because he loved her.
Not that he saved her by himself. He couldn't have done it without the others. But he was the only one there. In Iceland. In person.
In person.
In him.
The others could visit, sometimes on purpose. Sharing was harder to control. Letting someone else take over your mind. Your muscles. Your body. Your being.
But Will was used to being someone else. He was still a baby cop. He knew that. CPD didn't let him forget it. His dad didn't let him forget it. But he already had a reputation. And not just for what happened at the bar.
With a name like Gorski, they always asked, and yes, he spoke a little Russian. Fuck that college language credit. Without that shit, he never would have even known Gorski was a Russian name, let alone found himself in the Russian Tea Time restaurant eating Blinchiki with the Pakhan.
Fuck that shit. Gorski wasn't even a Russian name. It was Polish. Gorsky was a fucking Russian name.
But the Chicago Outfit was out and the Russian Mafia was in, so Will had to get good at undercover work fast. He was used to giving up his identity. What identity? He wasn't like the others. He was some pasty ass middle class kid from the Second City. Not culture. No religion. A little bit of a savior complex, and maybe some adolescent onset schizophrenia. Not a lot to give up, really.
So he had to be the one to teach the kids about sharing. And he had to be the one to risk his life.
Not a lot to give up, really.
They took control, one by one. Nomi, Sun, Lito, Kala, Capheus, Wolfgang. Riley. He felt what they were feeling. Pride, Anger, Courage, Kindness, Joy, Wrath, Love. He wondered if they were feeling what he was feeling. If he was feeling anything.
No.
He was feeling something.
He was finally feeling something.
Will had to be the one to save Riley. And it was mostly because he loved her.