I don't own YA.

A/N: Based on this piece by Cris-Art: post/26474934812/teddbill

Out of Control

There were several things the Avenger known as Wiccan was afraid of. Some were all-powerful super-villains, some involved demons from his day to day life. Ranking high on the list were potential harms that could befall the man he loved, but ranking even higher was a fear of himself. A fear of the powers he never fully understood, that he didn't even know how to approach. The powers that could rewrite the world and tear it apart, all based on no more than his whims and moods. He feared his powers, dreaded them, even, because he didn't know enough, and because what he did know was too much.

None of it mattered anymore, not a thing, as for better or worse it was too late, and the boy's worst fears came to pass.
He lost control. It wasn't a conscious thought that led him to that realization, not even a physical sensation. He simply felt it with every last fiber of his being. His powers poured out of him, passing through his mind and body without giving him any say on the matter. He wasn't even a vessel anymore, simply a gateway through which the magical energies entered the physical plane to tear it asunder.

The worst part? He tried. Oh, how hard he tried, focusing every last ounce of consciousness and willpower into holding it back - to no avail. All it did was hurt as he turned himself into an obstacle - and those were blown out of the way, like grains of dust before a typhoon. He felt it, how his body was tearing from the inside out. He deserved it, he admitted silently and forced his eyes to open and look at the results of his shortcomings and failure.
Patriot's shield.
Hawkeye's bow.
Speed's goggles.
They were all gone, because of him. His friends, his own brother, maybe even… even his-

Strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him back against a steady body. He still, fortunately or not, wasn't alone.

"I've got you." Hulkling breathed out, his voice hoarse and strained. His was the only form still steady, still intact before the existential onslaught.
Wiccan shut his eyes and barely managed to gulp. Even this one grace, this miracle, he knew wasn't to last.

"Teddy-"

"I'm here." The shapeshifter growled and tightened his hold. He refused to pull away, even when the rampant energies began coursing through his body.
"You can beat this. You're strong enough, just pull it in-"

"I can't…" The mage whispered. He tried to hold on, his hands running over the other's arms.
All that did was hasten the other's fate as the blinding blue light spread from Wiccan's hands and began enveloping Hulkling's body. It hurt, it had to, but there was not as much as gritting of teeth on the alien's side. Not even when he began fading from existence - all his lover's doing.

"Yes, you can, we-"

"I CAN'T!" Wiccan screamed, his fingers digging into green, rough skin. "I can't stop this!"
Tears welled in his eyes and he choked, his own voice failing him.

"Then why am I still standing?!" Hulkling demanded. "Why am I still here, Billy?! If you really can't-"

"Look at yourself." The mage replied in a broken hiss, knowing what they were to see if they did look. The loosening of the other's hold, the fading pressure and warmth behind him, the way his voice cracked-
Wiccan was losing the one person he cared for the most faster than he was willing to admit. And that - if nothing else, that he wouldn't allow.

"End it." He finally uttered with a gulp.
Hulkling was shaking his head insistingly, and a suspicion rose inside Wiccan that it was because he could no longer speak.

"Please, Teddy…"

His warmth was fading…

"Kill me before I kill you too!"

For a moment, one moment, there was no response and he feared the worst, but then there was movement, and thick, claw-like fingers tightened around his neck. He closed his eyes, a smile forming at last on his lips.

"Thank you."

The pressure increased, but he oddly enough found himself noticing only the warm tears that fell on his shoulder. He could barely breathe by then, but still he forced himself to speak - to answer what the other could no longer voice.

"Me too… and then… so-"

It was over.

"BILLY!"

Brown eyes snapped open and darted around in obvious disorientation.

"Look at me-" The familiar voice pleaded as two hands rested on his cheeks, forcing him to oblige.
"Dammit, look at me!"

"…Teddy?"

Billy was in his bed, blanket thrown aside and pillow propped at an odd angle against the head of the bed. Cold sweat covered him, making his clothes stick to his body. His heart was still pounding in his chest and his breath hitched in his throat more than once.

"I'm here."

Teddy's face was illuminated by the light from the lamp resting on the nightstand, the warm glow enough to reveal a worried frown and a touch of helplessness in his eyes.
"I'm right here, Bee, just look, you'll see that for yourself."

He didn't, instead opting to close his eyes before he gulped again.
"Oh god, Teddy, I—"

"You didn't." Teddy insisted in a stern whisper and leaned down to kiss Billy's moist forehead.
"Whatever it was, you didn't. It was a nightmare-" He explained and let one hand run through Billy's hair. "A dream. It wasn't real."

Obviously, otherwise Teddy wouldn't have been there. Billy wouldn't have been there, he thought and pushed himself up and into Teddy's welcoming, spread arms.
Of course, both knew that with Billy's abilities, the difference between dream and reality was a lapse in concentration and an emotional trigger. Still, Teddy did what he could, which at the moment was to help Billy revert back to a more stable state of mind - it was all he could do.
Billy on his part buried his face in Teddy's shoulder and tried his hardest to ignore the fact one nightstand was overturned, that his computer was a smoking wreck, that his closet's contents were all over the room and that two pictures were face down on the floor, the glass shards scattered all over.

They held onto each other for a good while longer, trying to deny the fact Billy's inner demons weren't so inner anymore.