Will hovered for a long time in front of the shivering, living spot on the wall, listening to his mother's voice sob in another world.
She asked questions - of course she did - but the shiver-pop he'd felt when he touched the lamps apparently not showing as strongly with each new touch. He couldn't…. No matter what he tried, he couldn't seem to answer her questions through the lights. The flickering was too random for him to control.
She believed in him. Though he spoke, then shouted, then screamed into the slowly-closing weak spot between the words, he could tell that she was aware of him, even if she didn't respond to his words. The fleshy barrier in the wall finally closed, scarring over with ooze and vines in front of his eyes.
Will stayed in his room for a long time, trying desperately to sink his hand into the scar, to try to force the 'ping' to happen again. Sometimes, it worked. Most of the time, it didn't, and the only feeling he could get from the other side was a persistant feeling that of course his mom was still there, she'd never leave him.
He pulled the knit hat down lower on his head, tightening the warm sweater Danny had given him. His fingers were almost painfully cold, and holding his knuckles to his neck almost felt like burning. Will gave one last longing look at the spot in the wall - at the place he'd been able to hear his mom.
Finally, he gave into the aching cold, and scuffled through the house toward the kitchen.
He found the batteries easily enough, candles were next to the batteries, and scrounging for wire was easier than he thought it'd be. The cherry-red pinprick of light seemed to call to him, and the first time the wick caught ablaze sent a wash of satisfaction and comfort through his soul. He cradled the little candle in his palms, a tiny smile pricking at his lips. The biting cold fled his fingers and cheeks, air clearing a weight from it that he didn't even realize had been there.
He didn't know how long he'd been standing there, half hypnotised by the flame, but he was aware enough to jerk out of it when he heard a rustle of leaves outside the back door. Will padded back to the cupboard as quietly as he could, wedging himself back inside and gently blew out the candle. The curl of smoke vanished into the darkness as he closed the doors behind him, savoring the last of the quiet peace it offered him.
He closed his eyes, slowing his breaths and trying to just… wait.
The whistle-creak of a monster's groan croaked outside the back door, but the rustling leaves passed on, leaving the house alone.
He waited.
His breaths felt too loud, so he slowed them, gentled them. His felt a faint chill, and shifted around to tuck his knees up, stretching his sweater to pull it over his legs, resting his head down on them.
He waited.
Sometimes he heard soft echoes of movement, like a voice murmured two rooms over. The barrier must be thin here - for him to hear so much of the other world. He almost heard words at times, different voices. He recognized his mother's, her intonation, the soft rasp of her voice.
He waited.
He hummed the songs he knew, stumbling the words and repeating them until he could get them right. When a monster sounded like they were approaching, he silenced himself, eyes closed, ears open.
He waited.
He lit the candle again, what felt like hours later - though it could have been minutes, or days. Everything seemed to flow together in the darkness. Even in the soft, warm light cast by the flame, time seemed to ooze past him. Yet, the world seemed just a little but clearer as well. Cleaner. He didn't know if it was a dream or his actual ears, but the voices-from-another-room seemed to clear just a bit more, until he felt like he was eavesdropping outside a room where the walls were just barely too thick to do it properly.
Ding!
The sound jerked him out of his haze, a bell cut through the stillness and resonated breezily into silence. Will pushed his way out of the cupboard, blinking as he realized everything had changed again. Furniture had been shoved around, and… lights, of all things, had been put up around the room.
Around the house, actually, christmas lights were strung from corner to corner, looping low enough that he'd be able to brush against them easily. Nothing at all like his mom's normal light touch.
Will crept up to stand, reaching up to brush a hand against one of the lights. They looked….clean, somehow. New. When he touched it, he felt the little 'click-pop' of it twitch through his teeth.
Will furrowed his brows, tracing his fingers over them as he walked through the house. Something about them…. The longer he touched them, the more they hummed, until he could feel their little shudders even when he wasn't touching them anymore.
Will stared at one dead, blue-colored plastic bulb, feeling the life behind it. The electricity, a spark he could hold in place.
A spark he WAS holding in place.
Oh wow.
Will looked up to a light far above him, reaching out and trying - feeling - it popped, hummed, and steadied. His smile grew, and he stepped carefully toward his room, waking up each bulb along the way, something in him straining to hold them alive, but managing nonetheless. He couldn't see the light, but he could feel it. He knew it was there, in the real world.
A laugh bulbbling up in his throat, he realized this was it! He could try to communicate like this! Will rushed into his room, spotting the lights and pointing at them, reaching out with his heart and blooming each bulb to life. They didn't flicker, perking up and dimming at his command.
He really did laugh, the excitement singing and bouncing along with his step as he climbed up on the bed, finger swinging one way and the other, back and forth around the half-circle of lamps to command them like-
He was a wizard! He could do cross-dimensional MAGIC! This was so cool.
The corner caught his eye, the small scar pulsing quietly, orange light dully visible through the small slit that had opened up. It had to be a portal. He'd felt his hand push through, and his mom had screamed - she'd seen it on the other side! Will hopped down from the bed with a thump, rubbing his palms together nervously. A few strides brought him to the living wall, and he reached out.
His palm settled against the warm, shifting flesh. It must have been flesh, he didn't know anything else that twitched and relaxed like that. He pushed gently, and it eased in under his hand. He was a wizard. He could do cross-dimensional magic. He could do THIS. He could just push his way back into the real world, and everything would be fine again.
A low growl, and Will jerked his hand back, otherwise freezing stiffly where he stood.
A dark shape passed in front of his window, hunched over and human-shaped, a thick, bulbous head swinging around blindly. Flaps opened up, like a flower unfurling, and he was close enough to see the red mouth opening wide - far, far too wide, shuddering as it inhaled. No - as it scented for him.
Will held still, watched it lean over into a four-legged crouch, shambling away with a gait far too human, and far too inhuman for comfort.
His hand was still half-outstretched as the murmur of voices faded and the scar relaxed and closed again before his eyes.
….Oh.
It opened when… one of those things was close.
That made an uncomfortable amount of sense.
He eyed the scar, drawing his hand to his chest.
But… the barrier was still thin, here. He could still hear the soft voices - less understandable now, and when he concentrated, he could tell the volume was fading slowly…
The fire! The flame had always made him feel better, more real. The voices seemed louder after a flame, and the first time he heard the weird echo was after leaving Danny's place - after holding a candle for the first time.
Will straightened, glancing again out the window before marching back toward the cupboard where he'd left the candle. The make-shift lighter still hung heavy in his pocket.
He had electricity. He had fire.
He was a friggin Wizard, and he had a plane to jump.