Chapter Text
ESCAPE FROM CAMAZOTZ
┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈
"You should have just kept it all to yourself."
...
Will closed his eyes tightly, feeling a single tear squeeze from his waterline. He hadn't realized he had any tears left. "Please, make it stop..."
"Will?"
That wasn't Joyce's voice. Will opened his eyes, feeling them physically burn from irritation. Where Joyce was once standing now stood Lucas and Dustin, who both looked concerned and... disgusted?
"Lucas? Dustin?" Will breathed. "Are you guys... Really here?"
"We don't want to be," Dustin muttered, just loud enough for Will to catch it.
"Y-Yeah, I know," Will let out a breathy laugh that was almost a sob. "This place is really creepy..."
Lucas shook his head. "It's not about the place. It's about you."
Will's breath hitched. No. God, no. Please. "A-About... me?"
"We know what you are," Dustin said, his voice low and deep, enriched with anger--- the same anger he'd had when he was getting bullied. Except this time, it was targeted at Will. And holy fuck, did that tone hurt. It felt like a direct punch in the gut; nevermind the actual words that left Dustin's mouth.
"Yeah," Lucas affirmed, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's fucking gross, man. Can't believe you've been around us for so long, all while you've been..."
Will sniffled. "Gay?"
"Eugh," Dustin gagged, turning his head for a moment.
Will furrowed his brows. No. He wasn't letting it go this way. "You guys can't be serious. I'm still the same person! We all like the same things, guys!"
Lucas scoffed. "Yeah, except for guys. Can't believe I've been hanging out with a freak this whole time."
"A freak? Lucas. We're all freaks," Will huffed, fighting against the vines. "That's why we're all friends."
"Friends?"
Will's blood ran cold as Mike stepped out from the fog. He shuffled forward, pushing past Lucas and Dustin as he inched closer and closer. "Mike...?"
┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈
Oh, Michael...
Mike inhaled sharply as he opened his eyes. Above him was a bright blue sky with a few clouds scattered across it, slow-moving clouds that inched at a pace capable of putting one into hypnosis. Once Mike found the strength to sit up, his eyes widened in fear.
He was back at the goddamn quarry again.
Fake little Will was standing in the water, his colorless eyes sunken in; to put it simply, he looked like a zombie. The very word Mike felt nauseous from whenever someone associated it with Will. How could his subconscious do that? Make Will look so... dead?
"You can't save me," Fake Will cried. "Why can't you save me, Mike?"
Mike wasn't powerless this time--- he moved. He pushed himself up from the ground, darting into the quarry. The water soaked through his shoes and socks, climbing up his jeans until it stopped mid-calf. He placed his hands under little Will's armpits and picked him up, carrying him back to the shore.
"I'm bleeding," Will choked, gesturing down to his stomach.
Mike's eyes followed as he slowly placed Will down on the ground. He gently unzipped Will's jacket, and his breath caught in his throat as he saw the blood soaking through little Will's shirt. "Oh my God."
"Help me, Mike," Will whispered. "Help me."
"I-I'm trying!" Mike exclaimed, pressing his palm down against Will's stomach. "I'm trying!"
And still, the blood pooled beneath fake little Will; a sticky crimson that painted the knees of Mike's jeans as he remained kneeling down at Will's side.
Michael...
Mike pressed down a little harder. The pool of blood continued to get larger, circling around them both, daring to slip into the quarry water. "P-Please, I can save him... Please..."
"You can't." Fake little Will's voice broke.
"I can!" Mike screamed, pressing down even harder.
CRACK.
Mike's eyes shot open wide, impossibly past their limits. Fake Will's eyes rolled back in his head, and his eyelids fluttered closed, lashes brushing against his sunken cheeks.
"No," Mike choked back a sob. "No!"
What did I tell you, Michael?
Mike's chest felt hollow as he lifted his hand from Will's stomach. His palm was bright red, a reminder of what he'd done. "Oh my God... No, this isn't real. This isn't real! I'm gonna wake up, and he's gonna be okay."
Is he?
Mike sniffled, his throat clicking as he forced back a sob. "Y-Yeah, he's gonna be just fine. I mean it."
Then wake up.
┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈
"Friends?" Mike repeated again, but this time, his voice was much thinner. That special soft tone was gone. "You should've been honest with me, Will. What happened to never being able to lie to me, huh?"
"I-I didn't lie," Will muttered. Even though he knew this wasn't real, it didn't matter. It still hurt. So bad.
Mike hummed, stepping back an inch. "You kept the truth from me. Isn't that worse than lying, William?"
"Please don't call me that," Will's voice cracked as he held back tears.
"Tell me."
"T-Tell you what, Mike?" Will sobbed.
Tell him how you really feel, William.
"No," Will choked. "No way."
Mike tilted his head. "If you're so convinced this isn't real, then why won't you tell me?"
"Because I just--- I can't!" Will exclaimed, fighting against the vines yet again. His chest ached. He wanted to get out. He wanted this all to be over.
But most of all, he wanted it all to be wrong. He wanted Vecna to be wrong.
Mike sighed and inched closer, reaching out a hand to cup Will's face. "Does it feel real, William?"
Will's breath hitched, and despite the situation, his face began to get hot. "Don't do this to me. Please."
"Do what?" Mike leaned in closer, his hot breath ghosting over Will's lips. "Isn't this what you want, William?"
Will closed his eyes tightly, focusing on his breathing. "This isn't funny."
"Open your eyes."
Will hesitantly opened his eyes to find Mike standing further away, maybe a few feet back. "W-What...?"
"I'm disgusted by you," Mike scowled. "I can't believe you've harbored feelings for me all these years, and you never said anything. You just... kept it to yourself. Because you knew, didn't you?"
"Knew what?" Will managed to stammer out.
"You knew I'd be repulsed," Mike explained.
Will's bottom lip quivered, and he looked down at the ground. "I'd hoped you wouldn't be. Robin said---"
"Oh, please. Robin? She's just as bad as you," Mike shook his head and kept backing away. "And of course she'd encourage it. Encourage... this. She sees what she wants to see, William. And what she wants to see is another gay couple in this silly town. She thinks she can force one... But Michael isn't like you, William."
Will sighed loudly, finally raising his head to look directly at fake Mike. "Maybe not. But he wouldn't be disgusted by me. He's my best friend."
"Why is he always hanging out with that Wheeler kid?"
"Oh, please, Joyce. Don't act like you don't fucking see it. Our kid's a goddamn faggot. He's obsessed with that little Wheeler."
Will's vision clouded with tears as fake Mike disappeared into the fog. Through his impaired vision, Will saw a figure approaching.
"Can't believe one of my kids ended up so goddamn weak."
...Dad?
┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈
"Mike?"
Mike's eyes flew open as he sat up on the floor. His back was stiff, aching from a sharp, stabbing pain throughout his spine. He craned his neck to the right, a terrible mistake on his part due to the pain that followed, and glanced at Will on the couch. Still asleep, but... still breathing.
"Mike?" Joyce repeated. "Honey, are you okay?"
Mike turned to face Joyce, forcing a small smile. "I... Yeah. I'm fine. Adrenaline just wore out, you know?"
"Of course," Joyce replied, though her tone said she was a bit suspicious.
Mike slowly pushed himself up off the floor, using the edge of the couch to regain his balance. "Where's the others?"
"Robin and Lucas are rummaging through the kitchen for food." Joyce sat down on the edge of the couch, right at her son's feet. "Are you hungry?"
Mike felt a little lightheaded as he tried to stand up straight. He held his palm against his side, feeling a wet spot on his hoodie. One that definitely wasn't there before. "I-I'm... F-Fine."
"Are you sure? Because you can talk to me. Just because you're not my son doesn't mean my mom-senses go away," Joyce cracked a smile, placing a gentle hand on Will's leg, right where the calf meets the foot.
Mike's heart felt heavy at her words. He'd always appreciated the comfort Joyce provided. Mike would've loved to have her as a mother-in-law one day, but considering he and El broke up, that would never be possible.
Not unless gay marriage was legalized. Not to mention, not unless Will felt... the same.
That was a wild thought for Mike. One he so selfishly wanted to believe. When Will was getting bullied, Mike had disgustingly hoped the rumors were true; that thought haunted him constantly. How could he want the bullies to be right about Will? Just so Mike could believe Will was like him?
Disgusting.
Mike swallowed hard. He met Joyce's eyes again, realizing she was expecting a response. "S-Sorry, Mrs. Byers! Thank you for checking in on me. I'm just... I'm worried about Will."
That is not a complete lie. You just refuse to admit why.
"Me too, Mike," Joyce hummed as she turned her head toward Will. "Me too."
"No freaking way!"
Lucas's voice from the other room made Mike's eyebrows furrow. "What...?"
"Go ahead," Joyce nodded. "I'll stay with Will. Don't worry."
Mike hummed. He slowly walked down the hall toward the entrance, where El and Hopper were standing.
El.
"El!" Lucas shouted, wrapping his arms around her. He spun her around, eliciting a soft giggle from her. "You're here! I have to tell you about Max."
Mike raised an eyebrow. When had they gotten so close? It didn't bother Mike at all--- in fact, it made the corners of his lips turn up in a sweet smile. "Hey, El."
"Hi, Mike," El smiled softly and waved before she turned back to Lucas. "What about Max? Is she okay?"
"I think she's fine," Lucas replied. He kept his hands on El's shoulders. "Will saw her with Holly... Somewhere in Vecna's mind."
El raised an eyebrow. "Will... Saw?"
"Will's a sorcerer," Mike leaned against the wall for support. His side was already beginning to pulse with fresh pain, and it was making him dizzy.
"A sorcerer? God, how far do you kids go with this game of yours?" Hopper huffed. "Joyce?"
Lucas stepped forward. "I'll show you where she is. Come on."
As Lucas guided Hopper down the hall, Mike gave El another kind smile.
"What?" El asked, tilting her head.
Mike shrugged, keeping his palm firm on his side. "I'm just glad we're friends."
"Me too," El nodded, approaching with open arms. "Hug?"
Mike didn't hesitate. He pulled El in for a platonic hug, careful to keep her distanced slightly so she wouldn't hit his wound. "When did you and Lucas get so close?"
"He's been sneaking me into the hospital to see Max," El whispered, giggling quietly. "Please keep this a secret. I do not want him to get in trouble. He is a good friend. And a very good boyfriend to Max."
"Yeah, he sure is. He's been there basically every day, playing that same song for her. He's dedicated," Mike started walking down the hall.
El followed, falling into step next to Mike. "So... What did you mean when you said that Will is a sorcerer?"
"Oh boy. I have a lot to fill you in on," Mike chuckled awkwardly.
El followed Mike into one of the larger storage rooms in the WSQK. He leaned back against a desk, standing in the perfect position to hold his side and not look suspicious. El wandered around the room, eyes searching the damaged records and boxes of tapes.
"So... What is it?" El asked softly, still exploring the room.
"Well--- Will killed three demogorgons," Mike explained. "He was close enough to the hive mind to siphon Vecna's powers. And... Me, Robin and Lucas were all being attacked by demos--- Will's eyes went white, and he moved his arms and just---"
Mike made a snapping motion with his hands.
El's eyes widened. "That is amazing. Where is he? I want to ask him about his powers and how it feels for him."
"He's... asleep," Mike's face fell.
El furrowed her brows. "Mike... What is it? What's wrong?"
"Well--- Last night, we used high voltage to shock a demogorgon back to life."
"What?!" El exclaimed.
"Hang on--- We had it pinned down. And when it came to life, Will jacked back into the hive mind," Mike explained, gesturing wildly with his hands. "He... He saw Max and Holly. I think he saved them from Vecna. But then he passed out, El. He's been unconscious since last night."
El hummed, stopping in front of a box of old band tees. "I should go into his mind. He may be stuck in there."
"You'd do that?" Mike got up from his spot on the desk, hissing as his side pulsed.
El turned around to face Mike. "Of course. It is the least I can do."
A moment of silence followed as Mike shoved his hands into his pockets.
"So..." Mike's voice trailed off. "How have you been?"
El let out an awkward laugh. "Weird. I have a sister."
"A sister?"
"We do not have to discuss this yet," El shook her head. "How have you been, Mike? I heard that your parents got hurt. And your house took a beating."
Mike sighed, averting his gaze. "I---Yeah. My parents are recovering at the hospital. And I haven't seen inside my house yet, but the outside looks... pretty bad."
"I hope your room is okay," El turned back toward the boxes. She pulled one of the old band tees, holding it against her chest.
"I hope so, too," Mike agreed. "I really hope that painting you commissioned didn't get damaged."
El froze. She folded the shirt and set it back down in the box. "Mike... What painting?"
The warmth of his pain in his side suddenly became ice-cold, along with the rest of the blood in Mike's body. "The... The one you asked Will to make. Back when you guys were in Lenora."
"I did not commission a painting, Mike," El replied firmly.
"But... Will said---"
"Will lied to you," El affirmed.
Mike swallowed hard, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing in his throat. Will had... lied? Why? Mike gripped the letter in his pocket. The jagged edges stung Mike's palm.
"I am going to go try to get into his mind," El shuffled toward the hallway. "Are you coming?"
Mike nodded. "Uh--- Yeah."
"Kali? That's such a beautiful name," Joyce's enthusiastic voice bled into the hall.
Mike raised an eyebrow. "Kali?"
"My sister," El explained, grabbing Mike's hand to pull him down the hallway faster.
Once they reached the main room, Mike's eyes immediately flew to Will. Still asleep... but still breathing.
"You must be the famous Mike," Kali said, her voice monotone. She extended a hand toward Mike.
Mike shook her hand, forcing a tight-lipped smile. "Nice to meet you."
Hopper placed a hand on El's shoulder. "El, Will is---"
"I know," El nodded. She gently held Hopper's hand on her shoulder. "Mike told me."
"Do you think you can find him?" Joyce asked, leaning forward. She was still on the edge of the couch, right at Will's feet.
"I can try," El looked around the room for a moment. "Is there a quiet room I can sit in?"
Robin leaned on the doorframe of the recording studio, where she'd been hanging out. "Think this would work? I've got headphones."
"Perfect," El hummed in approval.
┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈
"Dad," Will whispered breathlessly. "I haven't seen you since..."
"Since you went missing?" Lonnie crossed his arms over his chest.
Will nodded, staring straight ahead. "I don't want you here."
"That makes two of us," Lonnie stepped closer. "I'd rather be anywhere else. But... I also don't want you here, either. I think the world would be a better place with one less queer in it."
Will flinched. The words felt like knives, and his chest began to sting beneath the vines. "I don't care what you think."
Lonnie laughed, the sound dark and loud in the thick air around them. "Yes, you do, William. You can't lie to me. I see you for everything that you are. Every secret you hold, every word you bite back. I know the truth, William. And it's ugly."
"Fuck you," Will spat.
Huh. That felt kinda nice---
A sudden burst of red-hot pain bloomed in Will's jaw as Lonnie's fist collided with it.
┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈
"I can't get in."
Mike brought his fingertips to his lips, nibbling on the already jagged edges of his nails. "What do you mean? What's wrong? Can you try again?"
"Mike," El huffed. "I can't get to him. He keeps slipping away."
Mike looked around the room. "Okay, okay. Well... We have plenty of food in here, so--- Just eat, rest, and we'll try again. Okay?"
"Or..." Hopper interjected, leaning against the doorframe. "We improve your signal."
El locked eyes with Hopper. "The tank."
"It'll take a while to set up, but you've gotta recharge your battery anyway. Plus, that thing was a pain in the ass to build, so I'd like to get some use out of it," Hopper chuckled and pushed himself off the door.
Joyce followed close behind. "I appreciate your help, El. I hope you're okay."
"Thank you, Joyce," El smiled. "I am okay. I want to help wake him up."
"Well, let's not waste any time, then. I'll go start setting it up," Hopper turned around to leave the room.
Joyce stayed for a moment, staring between El and Mike. "It's so nice to see you two together again."
Mike's upper lip twitched. "We're not---"
"I mean in the same room, Mike," Joyce reiterated. "Are you both... okay?"
Mike wanted to answer. Truthfully, he wanted to drop the distant and heroic act, sob into Joyce's embrace. He missed his mother so much. And the stress of his little sister being missing was barely even the tip of the iceberg. Not only was his house completely destroyed, but so was his psyche! Mike's entire inner world was crumbling. His best friend, who he was currently beyond worried about, had lied to him. How was he supposed to put all of that into words without the potential judgment from Joyce and El?
No. Mike was not okay.
El chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment. "I am not sure. All this talk about Max has me worried."
Okay, Mike thought. Now I don't have to talk.
"Oh, well--- Robin and Lucas just left to go stay with her," Joyce explained, stepping back to lean against the wall next to the door. "So, I'm sure they'll reach out on the walkie if anything happens."
The sound of Hopper's grunts in the hallway made Joyce turn on her heel. She didn't face Mike and El as she talked, still heading for the door. "I'd better go help him with the salt. We'll let you know when it's ready, alright?"
"Thank you, Joyce," El replied, settling back in the recording chair with a sigh.
Mike finally found the courage to speak again. "I'm sure Max is gonna be fine, El. Especially if we can get Will to wake up. With the two of you by her side, Vecna won't be able to reach her ever again."
"I do not think Will's going to want to use his powers right away." El grabbed the headphones from the equipment desk in front of her, fidgeting with the cord. "His body may appear to be resting, but I do not believe his mind is. He's going to need a lot of rest and care when I wake him up."
Mike leaned back against the wall. He watched curiously as El twisted the headphone cord between her fingertips. "El?"
"Yeah?" El looked up, her hands stilling on the headphones.
"Thank you."
El tilted her head. "What for?"
"For everything, really." Mike pushed himself off the wall, desperate to ignore the constant pulse of pain in his side. "I'm really lucky to have you."
El smiled. She twisted the chair back and forth, swaying as it rotated side to side. "I am lucky to have you, too, Mike. And so is Will."
A small moment of silence followed.
Mike couldn't ignore the pain anymore. "Um... I'll be right back."
El tilted her head, curious as Mike shuffled out of the room. She wasn't given a second to respond.
Mike struggled down the hall, forcing himself into the small bathroom of the radio station. He hissed, backing himself up against the sink. The pain in his side had gotten progressively worse, causing a cold sweat to break across Mike's dirty skin. He needed a shower and some damn deodorant for sure, but more importantly, he needed his wound checked.
In an arrogant attempt to do it himself, Mike lifted up his hoodie. The sight of his dark, blood-soaked gauze was enough to heighten his senses, making the pain that much more unbearable.
"Mike?"
That wasn't El, and it certainly wasn't Joyce.
That was... Hopper?
"Y-Yeah?" Mike called out. The medical tape on his skin was already starting to lift, the sticky residue mixing with drops of sweat against his abdomen. He ran his fingers along the edges of the tape, feeling the slight sting as bits of it pulled his skin.
"You mind helping me out with something?"
Mike pressed his palm against the gauze, adding a horrific bit of pressure to push the tape back down. "Yeah! Just a sec."
Mike stared in the bathroom mirror as he pulled his hoodie back down. Thank God it was a black hoodie--- that way, no one could see the blood that had soaked through. Even then, the cold, wet spot brushed against the skin around the gauze, a constant reminder that his body was failing him. He turned on the faucet and rinsed off his hands, not bothering to scrub them in the cheap handsoap above the sink.
The minute he opened the door, his eyes met a very concerned Hopper.
"Something's up with you," Hopper crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't know what it is, but I can tell you're not keen on admitting it. Lucky for you, I can't push you to talk right now. I need your help."
Mike swallowed hard, the dryness in his throat causing his stomach to churn. "What is it?"
...
"The salt," Hopper gestured to the bags of salt in the room, heavy and slumped against the outside of the tank.
Mike's blood ran cold again. Shit. How the hell was he supposed to help with that?
"You alright, kid?" Hopper asked, crouching down to lift a bag with a grunt. "Could really use your help pouring it in."
Mike nodded, bending over to pick up a bag. A sharp pain pierced through his side like a knife, no different than what it felt like when the demo actually sliced him open. He tightened his jaw, holding back every scream he wanted to release. Carefully, he poured the salt into the tank, mirroring Hopper's movements.
Hopper sighed, stopping for a moment before he grabbed another bag. "I-ugh--- I wanted to talk to you. So I'm glad we got a moment to chat."
"Yeah?" Mike managed to breathe out, hissing under his breath at the pain in his side. "What's up?"
"I know you and El aren't... dating... anymore. Thank God for that," Hopper joked, pouring the salt from his second bag into the tank.
Mike forced an awkward laugh as he felt his entire left side throb and pulse with a pain so strong he was ready to faint. "Ha... Bet you're happy."
Hopper raised an eyebrow. "No snarky remarks? Wow. Something really is going on with you."
"Get to the point, Hop," Mike hissed. His tone came off rude and sarcastic, which is exactly what Hopper was looking for. If only he knew why Mike was hissing and spitting.
"There he is," Hopper crossed the room in two long strides, heading for the spare bags on the other side of the room. "I'm worried about her. I don't know how I feel about this... Kali."
Mike leaned against the tank for a moment. Each breath felt like another knife in his side. "Um... Why?"
"Come on, Mike. You met the kid. Am I the only one that thinks she's... odd?" Hopper asked. He picked up a bag of salt and tossed it over his shoulder, shuffling back toward the tank.
"I mean... Has she had as much social interaction as El has?" Mike questioned gently.
Hopper paused. He dropped the bag of salt to the floor, right in between him and Mike. "You have a point."
"I do?" Mike let out a breathy laugh. "Since when have you decided to be nice to me?"
"You're not half-bad when you're not dating my daughter," Hopper admitted. "I'm gonna go get El. Can you pour this last bag in?"
Mike nodded, giving Hopper a tight-lipped smile. "Yeah, got it."
As Hopper left the room, Mike stared down at the bag of salt. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he took in a deep breath, causing a sharp pain to shoot through his entire body. Shit. SHIT. He slowed down, crouching to wrap his arms around the bag. In one staggered motion, Mike lifted the bag up and over the edge of the tank, watching as the salt poured in.
While the water clouded, Mike looked down at his blurry reflection. His eyes were sunken in.
"Why can't you save me, Mike?"
Mike shuddered, closing his eyes as his mind resupplied the image of his vision. Of little Will in that quarry, bleeding out under Mike's trembling palm. He could smell the dirty water, the metallic scent of blood--- it made his eyes sting with the threat of tears.
"Mike?" El's soft voice startled him.
Mike turned around, eyes glazed with unshed tears. "Hey--- Um," he sniffled, blinking back his tears. "I'm sorry. Are you...?"
"Mike..." El's head dropped to the side, a subtle tilt of the head that showed a bit of sympathy. "You are worried about Will. Right?"
Technically, yeah, Mike thought to himself. Amongst other things, like the fact that my wound may or may not have reopened under my nasty gauze.
Couldn't say that, though. So Mike just nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."
"He's going to be okay," El reassured him, stepping closer to the tank. She nudged Mike's shoulder playfully, watching as he winced. "...Mike?"
But before she could continue to question him, Hopper entered the room.
"You ready, kid?" Hopper asked, his eyes locked on El.
El, although hesitant, gave a half nod. "Ready."
"Then let's get this started."
┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈
"You're a disgrace!"
Will's vision was a complete blur. Hit after hit, strike after strike, his face took a heavy beating. And while he knew that the bruises weren't real, he could still feel them settling into his skin; a part of him wondered if he'd still feel the ache whenever his body decided to wake up.
"I should've corrected you a long time ago," Lonnie spat. He struck Will's nose with a horrifying crack. Will felt an overwhelming burn within his sinuses, and then a thick, warm trickle of blood dripped from one of his nostrils. "But no, your mother protected you. You could never protect yourself, could you? Always hiding behind her. Behind Michael. Because you're too damn weak to fight back on your own."
Will coughed, painting his chapped lips crimson. "I would fight back in a heartbeat now."
"Would you?"
Will felt the vines around his body come loose. He fell to his knees, his body weak and heavy. And still, he refused to let that define him. "I would."
"Then do it." Lonnie grabbed Will by the collar of his shirt and lifted him from his knees, slamming him against the wall. "Come on, boy. Show me what you've got."
Will drew in a fulfilling breath before swinging his right arm. His shoulder popped, likely from how stiff his body was, and his fist cut through the air.
Whoosh.
Lonnie chuckled darkly. "You missed."
"Fuck you," Will huffed, tensing the muscles in his arm. He threw his arm again. This time, he felt his knuckles crack against Lonnie's jaw.
Lonnie stumbled back, dabbing his fingers against his lip in surprise. He pulled his hand back, staring down at his blood-red fingertips. "Huh."
"I told you," Will said through erratic breaths. "I told you I'd fight back."
Lonnie shook his head, wiping his hand off on his pants. "You landed a punch, William. Not a final blow."
"I can do better than that," Will panted, holding up his fists. His heart pounded against his ribcage; loud and aggressive, just like his father.
Spitting blood from his lips, Lonnie lunged forward and slammed Will against the wall again. "You would never be brave enough outside of all this."
The wall knocked the breath from Will's lungs, gusting past his scratchy throat and chapped, blood-crusted lips. "That's not true."
"Isn't it?" Lonnie spoke, his voice eerily similar to Vecna's. He wrapped a hand around Will's jaw, digging his nails into the hollows of Will's cheeks. "Look at you. You remind me of your brother."
Will spat a thick mix of blood and saliva at his father, landing it dead-center on his forehead. "You have no idea how much of a compliment that is. He's changed. No thanks to you."
"Eugh," Lonnie grimaced. He released his grip on Will's jaw and stepped back, using his bloody finger to wipe the spit from his head.
Perfect, Will thought. While Lonnie was distracted, Will reached out to grab the collar of his shirt. In one swift motion, Will had turned on his heel and, with enough momentum, banged Lonnie off the wall.
But it wasn't the perfect hit that Will had thought.
Like glass, the wall behind Lonnie shattered, and he completely disappeared into the air. Will was left frozen, staring straight ahead. Behind the shattered glass-like wall was a hallway. A school hallway.
"What...?" Will whispered under his breath. Hesitant, he stepped over the rubble and into the hallway. Something about it was eerily nostalgic, and yet so unfamiliar. "Where the hell...?"
Children's laughter filled Will's ears as he shuffled through the hallway. Brows furrowed, he looked around. Along the walls were large pieces of colored construction paper, each one holding its own crayon-drawn animal. And amongst the zoo of drawings, Will recognized one of a poorly drawn dog. Right above it, in bright blue crayon, it said Chester. The E's were flipped, looking a little more like the number three. A tear rolled down Will's cheek as he brushed his fingertips along the scratchy paper.
"Alright, kids! Come, now! Recess!"
Will froze. He turned on his heel and backed up against the wall as a stampede of little children ran past him. Realization hit; they couldn't see him. That thought allowed Will to let out a sigh of relief. But as the heavy school doors groaned from their hinges, the bright burn of sunlight poured through the halls, and curiosity took over. Will followed behind the children like he was meant to be there.
The pungent smell of woodchips and chalk hit his blood-dried nostrils as he stepped outside. The sun was unbearably bright, glaring down at Will with a flare so intense he was almost ready to just go back inside. It was a sharp contrast from the darkness of the mind lair. Just as he was starting to regain his mental balance, something hit the tip of his shoe. Half expecting to see vines, Will jolted, lowering his head agonizingly slow.
A ball.
Will let out a strangled laugh, one that was a fraction away from a sob, and shook his head. He was so on edge that a ball scared him. A ball. He sighed and looked up, only for his eyes to immediately land on the swingset.
"Hey, buddy," Will whispered under his breath. Straight ahead was his younger self, maybe about five. He was alone on the swing, his face empty and emotionless. Will, covered in dirt, grime, blood, sweat--- was standing a mere six or seven feet away from his younger self, who was clean, composed, quiet. Untouched. The very thought made Will's stomach churn. He wished he had the ability to really go back in time, to warn his younger self of what was coming.
What an unfortunate thought.
Will swallowed hard, his throat like sandpaper. He stepped forward, settling his shoes into the mulch. From a distance, he watched his younger self continue to swing.
"Hey!"
Will didn't have to crane his neck much; he saw a little mess of black curls racing for the swingset. The smile that spread across Will's lips was immediate. Man, Will thought. Little Mike was adorable.
"Excuse me!" Little Mike ran up to the empty swing next to little Will, eyes big and full of light. "Do you wanna be friends?"
Little Will froze for a split second. Will knew exactly what his younger self was thinking: ABORT. But he also knew that the silly little mess of curls before him was too bright to ignore. So, little Will nodded. And as little Mike slumped onto the swing next to little Will, the chains creaked and groaned.
Until the sound of the chains faded into the loud crackle of radio static.
Will blinked rapidly. The loud scent of mulch was replaced by the heavy smell of cigarettes and Old Spice deodorant. Once he opened his eyes again, Will's heart dropped. Before him was Jonathan's bed, where little Will had curled up, his face buried in a tear-soaked blanket. Jonathan had his arm wrapped around Will, holding him close as the sound of screams echoed down the hall.
"I'm telling you, Joyce! The kid needs to go to one of those damn camps before it's too late," Lonnie's voice boomed in the hall.
Jonathan only shifted closer to little Will, holding him in an embrace so warm it was comparable to a gentle sunlight; the kind that broke through clouds in the spring, relieving the sting of April wind. Little Will's breath was stuck in his throat, held back by hiccuped sobs and tiny whines.
"It's okay, buddy," Jonathan whispered into Will's hair. "I've got you. He can't get you."
The doorknob rattled, the sound sharp in Jonathan's crowded mess of a room. "Open the fucking door!"
Jonathan moved. Will's little fists came up to grip Jonathan's hoodie, his eyes irritated and red and full of hot tears. Jonathan squeezed little Will's shoulder. "Hold on, kiddo. I'm not going anywhere. Just give me a sec, alright?"
Little Will sniffled, but he nodded. He sat still in Jonathan's bed as Jonathan shuffled through the sheets, leaning over the edge of the mattress to reach for the dial on his radio. The volume increased with the twist of Jonathan's wrist, drowning out the sounds of Lonnie's loud voice in the hall.
Will, who had been watching like a fly on the wall, was quietly sobbing. His shoulders bounced with each dry heave of a sob. He watched as Jonathan climbed back into bed, returning to his prior position with his arms around little Will.
In an attempt to feel the nostalgia of Jonathan's comfort, Will approached the bed. He wished it wasn't just a memory; he missed his brother's embrace. So, without a second thought, Will climbed into bed right next to his younger self and his older brother. They couldn't see him. They couldn't hear him. They couldn't even feel his presence. But, to Jonathan's delicate whispers and the loud voice of The Clash, Will closed his eyes and just imagined. He imagined the feeling of comfort. That same gentle warmth that his body physically ached for.
"Byers!"
Will's eyes shot open, and he wasn't in Jonathan's bed anymore. He was on the edge of a stiff hospital mattress, right at the feet of his younger self.
Oh.
"Guys, be careful with him!" Joyce exclaimed, rushing to Will's bedside. "Please. He's been---"
Mike was the first to fly in. He nearly stumbled over his own feet as he bent over the bed, pressing the side of his head to Will's chest. "Will!"
"Mike," Little Will breathed. His voice was hoarse. And his eyes were dull, wiped clean of the bright innocence they'd once held. The hospital gown was rather loose, much too big on his small frame. Yellow and purple bruises coated every bit of exposed skin, a reminder of where little Will had been. Where he'd lost that glimmer of light.
Will hadn't changed much. Even at sixteen, stuck in his own memory, he was no different. Bruised, bloody, dirty. Even all these years later, he was still actively being traumatized. He knew his younger self on that hospital bed was silently praying that what had happened to him was the end. But that poor kid was so clueless.
Because that was only the beginning.
"I wish you could hear me," Will said out loud, standing up from the hospital bed. He watched as little Lucas and Dustin ran around the bed, standing eagerly on the side opposite of Mike and Joyce. Will stared down at his younger self, then swiftly trailed his gaze to his mother. "I wish you could hear me. I wish I could tell you I'd survive, mom. But I also wish I could tell you just how much more I have to endure."
Joyce's smile was forced and weak. Will wished he had been emotionally mature enough to notice it back then. "Alright, guys. Can we give him a little space? He's been through a lot."
"Sorry, Mrs. Byers," Mike stepped back from the bed, his hand still lingering on Will's arm.
Will smiled. Mike really hadn't changed much, either. His urge to protect Will had been the same over all those years. Hell, even when things were rocky in Lenora, Mike was Will's anchor.
But what about the garage, William?
Will's breath hitched. In the blink of an eye, the strong scent of hospital-grade cleaner was replaced by that of the rain.
"You're destroying everything, and for what? So you can swap spit with some stupid girl?"
Oh no.
Will's stomach twisted as he leaned against the opening of Mike's garage. Inside, teenage Mike and Will were arguing. Will knew this argument word for word. The loud drizzle of rain against the ground nearly drowned out the annoying drip of oil under Mr. Wheeler's car in the garage--- but Will had wished it could've all drowned out the bitter words that left Mike's mouth.
"El's not stupid! It's not my fault you don't like girls!"
As a mere outsider, or, again, fly on the wall, Will could see the immediate regret that painted Mike's face. But even so, he could see the fear in his younger self's eyes--- the threat of tears that brought out the green in his hazel irises, the thoughts that dug deep into his mind but never dared to form into words on his tongue. Instead, younger Will stayed silent, his pupils shaking as he searched between Mike's eyes. For an explanation or an apology, Will was unsure. They were equally scary to younger Will.
Mike's harsh tone dropped, and instead, he spoke more softly. "Look, I'm not trying to be a jerk. Okay? But we're not kids anymore."
Right, Will thought, rolling his eyes. The frame of Mike's open garage dug deep into his spine. We'll never be kids again, will we, Mike?
"I mean, what did you think, really?" Mike asked, leaning in a little closer. Younger Will backed up a bit. "Did you think we'd never get girlfriends, Will? That we were just gonna sit in my basement all day and play games for the rest of our lives?"
Younger Will blinked, allowing the tears to stream down his face. "Yeah, Mike. I guess I did. I really did."
And with that, he got on his bike, riding out into the rain without a jacket or umbrella in sight.
"Will!" Mike shouted, fully prepared to run after him. But right as he reached the edge of the garage, he froze. His hand, outstretched past the comfort of his garage, tingled as raindrops struck his skin. He stepped back, sheltered by the emptiness of his garage.
And maybe Will wasn't too far off--- Mike hadn't changed much. Even now, Will was the one in the rain, embracing who he was becoming and struggling to accept that he was allowed to be drenched. And Mike stayed behind, wiping the raindrops from his hand as he stayed dry, sheltered.
But it was never about the rain. It was never about the garage.
Will just wanted Mike to step out of his sheltered life.
"Will!" Younger Mike had shouted again, still standing in his dusty garage. "Come back!"
Will's brows furrowed. How was he seeing this? How was he hearing this? As far as logic went, his memory was over. His younger self was long gone down the road, bike tires slipping along the flooded pavement. So... What was this?
"Way to go, Wheeler," Mike huffed, kicking over an empty gallon of oil. "You lost him again."
Will slid down the frame, settling down into the puddle right outside the garage. His jeans were soaked, but he didn't care. Because in that moment, his heavy heart dropped a massive weight.
He forgave Mike.
"Will?"
Will looked up from his knees, and his eyes immediately went wide. Standing at the entrance of Mike's garage was El. Not younger, not fake, but real. "El?"
"Will," El crouched down, pulling Will into an embrace that relieved all the tension in Will's body. "I am so glad that you are okay."
"El..." Will sobbed, digging his nails into the back of El's shirt.
El pushed halfway from the hug, her hands firm on Will's shoulders. "I am here to wake you up, Will. I need you to wake up."
"I..." Will looked to the left, staring inside the empty garage. Mike was gone. "Yeah, yeah. Okay."
┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈
"He is... very bloody."
Mike chewed on his fingernails, already tasting the blood from his nailbeds. "Is he safe?"
"He is safe," El announced. Her bottom lip dropped, and her voice strained. "He..."
"What is it?" Mike jumped up from his seat, hissing in pain as he gripped his side. "El?"
El's lips pressed together as she hummed. "He is outside your garage, Mike."
"My..." Mike's head started to buzz, the feeling no different from the vibration of static from a walkie. "Huh...?"
"Will?" El called out.
Mike squeezed his eyes shut in aggressive blinks, forcing away the metaphorical fog that began to take over his brain.
"He does not see me yet."
"Make him see you!" Mike yelled, immediately keeling over as he dug his palm into his side.
"Kid?" Hopper rose up from his seat. "You alright?"
Before Mike could answer, El's hands twitched in the tank, and her voice got soft. "I am so glad that you are okay."
"He knows you're there?" Mike's neck snapped back in El's direction. His hands found the edge of the tank, partially for stability but also in anticipation.
A beautiful, sweet smile spread across El's lips. "I am here to wake you up, Will. I need you to wake up."
Silence.
El's body remained afloat, her lips still curled into that same sweet smile--- and right as Mike was about to ask...
"HE'S AWAKE!"
Mike pushed himself off the tank, painfully aware of the faint red handprint along the side. As El climbed out, she splashed water against the sides of the tank, effectively washing away the small blood stain Mike had left behind.
"El, be careful," Hopper's hand found El's shoulder. "And Mike, you---"
It was too late. Mike was already staggering down the hall, moving on pure adrenaline alone. The minute he made it into the main room, his lungs were screaming. If his body could talk, Mike would be badgered to hell by it.
"Will," Mike breathed, muscles trembling as he stood at the end of the couch.
Will carefully shifted, pushing himself up by his elbows until he was sitting on the edge of the couch. He looked exhausted; the bags under his eyes were so dark that they almost looked bruised. His hair, still dirty and oily from going days unwashed, was a pretty wreck on Will's head. And despite the dirt and grime and sweat, Mike wanted nothing more than to jump Will and hold him. But he couldn't. Even if it were allowed, Will was exhausted and very clearly in pain. El had said it herself--- he was bleeding in the mind lair. Just because he wasn't bleeding for real didn't mean he didn't still feel it. Feel whatever it was that made him psychologically bleed.
"Mike," Will wheezed, staring up at him with his big hazel eyes. "Can--- Water?"
Joyce jumped up from her seat. "I'll get it! Hold on. Mike, stay with him?"
Mike nodded, still standing right next to the couch. The adrenaline was starting to fade away again, and his blood was running cold. Ice cold.
"El said... You were bloody," Mike said, and he regretted the words the minute they left his mouth. "Sorry. I'm sure you'd rather not talk about it right now."
Will shuddered, crossing his arms over his chest before leaning forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. "I don't want to, but I should. I'm just... I'm exhausted, Mike."
"I know." Without thinking, Mike reached out and placed his hand on Will's shoulder, rubbing small circles with his thumb. The warmth that Mike felt through Will's shirt was nearly enough to make his blood run hot again--- but his wound needed to be redressed, and his body was losing steam fast.
Just then, Joyce entered the room with two paper cups filled with cool water. She handed one to Will first, then the other to Mike. "Here, you boys need to stay hydrated. Can't save the world if you don't take care of yourself."
Ha. Ironic, Mike thought, brushing his fingertips against the spot on his hoodie. "Thank you, Mrs. Byers."
"Of course, honey," Joyce said. She turned her attention back to Will, her eyes wide in fear but soft with that addicting motherly comfort. "Will, honey, I need to go feed El. And... Hop, too, probably. If you need absolutely anything, I---"
"Relax, mom. Mike's got me," Will smiled, giving Mike an innocent glance through his lashes. Mike's heart somersaulted, something that he unrealistically would've done himself, had he not been injured and aching.
Joyce gave a half nod before leaving the room. Mike could tell she was hesitant; tense, clammy, nervous. She didn't want to leave Will's side at all. But Mike also knew that Joyce trusted him, and he wasn't going to do anything to break that trust.
"So," Will tugged on the edges of his sleeves, pulling them down further. His body seemed to be buzzing, jolting with a light tremble. "What'd I miss?"
Mike noticed the subtle shivering almost immediately. "You're shaking. Are you cold?"
A smirk spread across Will's lips, one that was far too obvious to hide. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?" Mike asked. He reached toward the back of the couch to grab his infamous denim jacket. It wasn't long before he had it draped over Will's shoulders, and the sight of Will in his jacket again felt like a breath of fresh air for Mike.
"You notice things about me," Will replied, although his voice was quieter, like he was scared to let the air take his words. His trembling fingers caught the edges of the jacket, pulling it tighter around his body. "Sometimes before I do."
Mike shrugged, still standing right in front of the couch, directly in front of Will. His neck was starting to hurt a little from looking down, but the eye contact through Will's lashes was too damn addicting to pull away from. "You're my best friend, Will. Of course I notice things about you. I'd be a pretty bad friend if I didn't."
Will tilted his head ever-so-slightly as his eyes searched Mike's face. The silent action made Mike's head spin, causing the pain in his side to feel so much worse. He could feel the cold sweat dripping down the back of his hoodie, tracing his spine until he involuntarily shivered.
Mike couldn't take it anymore. "Okay--- what? Is there something on my face?"
"No," Will shook his head, furrowing his brows. "You're really pale."
Mike froze. "What? I'm always pale, Will."
"Don't get defensive on me, Mike." Will carefully pushed himself up from the couch, teetering just a bit as he regained his balance.
Mike's hands instinctively found Will's shoulders, steadying him. "Dude--- You've been unconscious on that couch for hours. You should really take it slow."
"Don't change the subject." With Will on his feet and Mike's hands on his shoulders, their proximity was feeding the tension between them heartily. Will's hands were still locked on the edges of his jacket, keeping it from falling off his shoulders.
Mike huffed. "I'm not pale, Will. I think maybe you're just... exhausted? Seeing things?"
Yeah. That lie was absolute ass. Mike knew it, and he knew Will knew it too, because the look on Will's face wasn't far from a deadpan. "Mike Wheeler, did you not just say we're best friends?"
"I did say that, yes," Mike replied. His eyes never left Will's, even despite the judgmental look on Will's face. "Your point being...?"
"Mike!" Will huffed. "You're pale. Something is wrong with you. Spit it out."
Mike sighed and dropped his head, staring down at the floor. "I--- Yeah, okay. Fine. You caught me."
Will backed up an inch, causing Mike to pull his hands away. As Will finally slipped his arms into the jacket, he cleared his throat. "Right, okay... So... What's going on?"
"I think my wound reopened," Mike admitted, bringing his hand down to the edge of his hoodie. "I was gonna ask your mom to redress it, but I didn't want to pull her attention away from you, and---"
"Mike. She cares about you a lot. She would've dropped everything to help you in a heartbeat," Will interjected.
Mike sighed, finally looking up from the floor. "I didn't want to bother her. And then I helped Hopper with the salt bags, and I---"
"You what? Mike," Will quickly wrapped his hand tightly around Mike's arm. "Okay. We're not wasting another second."
As Will pulled Mike down the hall, a familiar heat crept up Mike's neck and across his cheeks until it reached his ears. He stared down at Will's hand, his knuckles white around Mike's arm. He could feel the heat of Will's palm through his hoodie sleeve, and it made his heart do ridiculous little flips in his chest.
Every step Mike took was heavy, sending a sharp jolt of pain up through his body as he let himself get led down the hall. "Will--- We were supposed to talk about you! I-I was supposed to take care of you. Your mom is gonna kill me if she finds out I made it all about me again."
"You and I both know I'm not ready to talk about what happened to me in my head," Will replied, his tone playfully thin. With his free hand, he pushed open the bathroom door and finally released his grip on Mike's arm. "Now, come on. I needed a distraction, anyway."
Mike took in a shaky breath as he followed Will inside. The counter of the porcelain sink was damp, likely from Joyce or El washing their hands. The scent of cheap handsoap filled the air, and Mike was grateful; he'd hoped it would mask his scent, a disgusting mix of dirt and dried blood.
It did not.
"Can you sit on the sink?" Will asked, backing up against the shelf to give Mike room.
Mike nodded, quickly obliging. In a matter of seconds, he had hoisted himself up on the damp counter, likely sitting in a mixture of water and soap.
Will turned slightly to reach for the first aid kit on the shelf. The hem of his shirt lifted, revealing the smallest sliver of bare skin to Mike. Mike's face went red, and he quickly looked away. Literally anywhere but at Will. The tile on the wall was a really lovely touch. Or, at least, that's what Mike was thinking, despite knowing nothing about bathroom decor.
"Here, pull up your hoodie," Will mumbled. In the time that Mike had been looking away, Will had already opened up the kit and was standing in front of the sink.
Mike swallowed hard. His throat clicked, the sound sharp in the small bathroom. "Um--- Sure."
As Mike's fingertips caught the hem of his hoodie, his heart started to race. He felt ridiculous. How could he freeze now? After all, his brain was keen on making him jealous when Will was taking care of Lucas's wound; so now, he'd gotten what he wanted, and he was frozen.
"You're shaking," Will observed, pulling the bottle of rubbing alcohol from the first aid kit. "Are you cold?"
Mike shook his head, lifting the edge of his hoodie. "No. I'm just a little tired, that's all. And... Not the biggest fan of pain."
"Shocker," Will muttered. He twisted the cap of the bottle, the strong scent immediately filling the small space between them. It made Mike gag.
Mike winced as Will's soft hands found his gauze. His fingertips brushed beneath the medical tape, tenderly removing it from Mike's skin in a way that made the sting of adhesive feel like ecstasy. Once Will had gotten the gauze off about halfway, he visibly grimaced.
"Sorry," Mike murmured, looking away in embarrassment.
Will shook his head. "No, no. I'm sorry. That's just... It's bad, Mike."
Mike released a sharp breath, leaning his head back against the mirror above the sink. "Yeah, I figured as much."
Will finally removed the rest of the gauze. He dropped it into the trashcan, and the loud crinkle of the bag inside startled Mike. Will raised an eyebrow. "You're really on edge. Are you okay?"
"Told you, I don't like pain," Mike hissed. Will poured some of the alcohol on a clean rag and carefully dabbed it against Mike's gash. Mike's breath caught in his throat as a burning sensation spread throughout his abdomen.
Will hummed softly, continuing to gently dab the rag along Mike's wound. "I know, I know. I'm sorry."
"This shit stings," Mike managed to say through shaky breaths. "Is there anything in there for pain?"
Will stifled a laugh, stilling the rag half an inch from Mike's skin. "Well, I definitely don't have weed, that's for sure."
Mike's face began to burn up again. "No... You knew?"
"I smelled it on your breath, Mike," Will said softly, his voice holding a hint of childlike mischief. He set the rag down on the sink, just an inch from Mike's right leg.
Will was so close that Mike could feel the heat practically radiating off of him; Mike's heart hammered against his ribs, each beat sending a sharper pain through his abdomen.
"And coffee, too," Will added, trying to break the silence. "Since when did you start drinking coffee?"
"Since I've been having nightmares," Mike blurted. He didn't have a chance to stop the words.
Will's eyes widened as he ripped open a fresh piece of gauze. "Nightmares?"
Shit. Mike bit down on his lip for a moment. His eyes darted between the gauze in Will's hands and the tile on the wall again, silently praying for an interruption. Hell, most of his innocent moments with Will were constantly interrupted--- why couldn't one happen now?
But when Will's eyes remained locked on Mike's face, Mike knew there was no escape coming. The only other way to take the attention from himself was to...
"Why did you lie about the painting?"
Will's eyes widened, but he was quick to school his expression. His chest spasmed, likely from a shaky and sharp breath. After a beat, he subconsciously wet his lips and looked straight at Mike again. "Is that why you're having nightmares?"
"What? No, I---" Mike shook his head. He leaned his head back against the mirror again, desperate to avoid eye contact as Will set the gauze down on Mike's abdomen. "I-I um, El and I just talked before she woke you up."
Will sighed, pressing his warm palms against Mike's cold abdomen to hold the gauze in place. "Okay then, hold on. You told me you were having nightmares. Don't get defensive on me. I'm just trying to understand why you're having nightmares, Mike."
"Then tell me why you lied," Mike hissed, though it wasn't intentional, and Will knew that. Mike was just in pain.
"I didn't lie," Will said confidently. He removed one hand to reach for the medical tape. While Mike was looking, Will ripped a piece of tape off with his teeth and held it firmly between his fingers.
Mike was about to short-circuit. But he had other things to worry about besides the fact that he just got a pass to stare at his best friend's lips without it being inherently weird. "It wasn't from El. I know that now. I just... I guess I just don't understand, you know? Why lie and say it was from El?"
"Because it was from me," Will replied quietly, like he was too afraid to admit it. He gently pressed the tape along the edge of the gauze, securing it to Mike's skin. "It was from me. Because... All that stuff about needing you and feeling different? I needed you, Mike. And I thought you'd think I was... weird, I guess? For expressing that. Because, I mean... With how distant you were..."
"I was an ass," Mike admitted bluntly. He stared down as Will placed the final bit of tape on the gauze. "I'm sorry. I'll explain why one of these days."
Will chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled back to pack up the first aid kit. "You don't have to, it's okay. I'm sorry I lied to you."
"I'm not mad about it. I'm just... You're right. I got defensive," Mike sat up straight, tugging his hoodie back over the gauze.
Will's nose scrunched up. "That hoodie is awful. You should really change it. It's... Stinky."
"Stinky?" Mike let out a breathy laugh. "Rude. Pretty sure as your best friend, I don't deserve that."
"And as your best friend, I need to ask if you're gonna tell me about those nightmares," Will stated, setting the first aid kit back on the shelf.
Mike sighed, looking away again. "I don't really want to. They hurt. But I think it's just... It's my body reliving the trauma, you know? Because of what time of year it is."
"Ah," Will leaned back against the wall. "I get that. I, of all people, would understand that, Mike. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"Because the nightmares are about you," Mike admitted.
Will blinked. "Oh."
"Sorry," Mike whispered. He stared down at the ground, dangling his legs from the sink. The floor looked like it was too far away; if he'd jumped down, he swore he would've broken something.
Will reached out, hesitantly resting his hand on Mike's shoulder. "No, don't apologize, Mike. I'm sorry you're having nightmares about me."
"But... I'm sorry, too," Mike looked up at Will, allowing himself to study Will's sparkling hazel eyes.
Will furrowed his brows. "What for?"
"For..." Mike took in a slow breath, not tearing his gaze away from Will. "For never sending that letter."
"What letter?" Will asked, tightening his grip on Mike's shoulder.
Mike blinked heavily. "The--- The one in the jacket?"
"Oh, that's a letter?" Will shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, but Mike still felt the ghost of Will's touch on his shoulder. Will pouted when he realized the pockets were empty. "I never opened it up. I figured it was yours, and I didn't want to invade your privacy, you know?"
Mike's heart slowed down just a little. "I-I took it out. And... You weren't curious? At all?"
"Well..." Will bit his lip, the act a magnet that pulled in Mike's eyes. "Okay, fine. All I saw was 'Dear Will', Mike. I didn't read any further than that."
Mike's heart picked up its pace again. "Y-You didn't?"
"No, Mike." Will pushed himself off the wall and stepped a little closer to the sink. "Why? What did it say? Do you still have it?"
Mike's breath hitched in his throat as Will got closer. "I-I... I still have it. But--- You promise you didn't read it?"
Will rolled his eyes. "Mike---"
"Well, I mean, you lied about the painting, so..." Mike joked, hoping the teasing smirk on his face was enough to distract Will from how nervous he was.
Will's eyes widened as he gasped theatrically. "Mike!"
"Sorry, sorry!" Mike chuckled, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "Just teasing."
A smirk spread across Will's lips. For a moment, the air in that tiny bathroom became thicker. Warmer. Mike's eyes were locked on Will's tantalizing smirk, the lips that Mike had studied for years. In all those years of stealing glances at Will's lips, Mike had never been caught.
Until now.
Will's pupils were blown, and his face was a deep shade of red that should've been humanly impossible. His lips parted, and Mike's eyes followed, obedient. Mike knew he'd been caught. There wasn't any denying it; he was staring right at Will's lips.
And maybe Mike would've done something about it if his earlier prayer hadn't been answered.
The loud pounding on the bathroom door startled both Mike and Will. Mike slipped off the sink, stumbling off to the side and toward the door. Will remained up against the wall, right next to the shelf.
"Guys!" Hopper's voice boomed through the door. "We gotta head to the hospital. Max is awake."
Mike's eyes widened, and he turned to look at Will. "Holy shit."
"We should---"
"Yeah."
Mike pulled the door wide open, anxiously staring up at Hopper. "...Hey."
"Hi?" Hopper furrowed his brows, scowling at Mike. "What were you two up to?"
"My gauze needed to be changed," Mike blurted out, reaching down to pull up his hoodie. "See?"
Hopper raised an eyebrow. "You got injured? Why the hell didn't you tell me that? I wouldn't have made you lift all those damn salt bags."
"Come on, Hop," Will finally followed Mike into the hall, flipping off the bathroom light switch in the process. "You know Mike. He doesn't back down from a challenge. Especially when he's trying to impress you."
"I don't---" Mike stammered. But the minute he caught Will's mischievous glance, he closed his mouth tightly.
Hopper sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shook his head. "I'll never understand you, Wheeler. Anyway, Joyce is already in the van with El and Kali. You two ready?"
"Yeah, uh--- Kali?" Will shoved his hands into his jacket pockets as he tilted his head.
Mike nodded, following Hopper down the hall slowly, giving Will a chance to catch up. "Yeah. Kali is... El's sister. We didn't talk much about it, about her. We were all kinda busy trying to wake you up."
"Oh," Will fell into place right next to Mike. "Right, sorry."
Mike bumped his shoulder against Will's as they walked. "Sorry? What for?"
"Well... You and El had a chance to talk," Will mumbled. Mike wasn't even sure he heard him correctly. Hopper held the door open for Mike, his boots crunching into the gravel as he stepped outside.
Mike shrugged, leaning back against the door as he held it wide open for Will. "I'm not sure I follow."
"You know... Just in case you wanted to get back together."
Mike snorted, causing Will to stare at him with concerned eyes. "Sorry, sorry. I shouldn't laugh. Seriously, though, Will... You don't have to worry about that. I'm not getting back with El."
"You're not?" Will asked, opening the back of the WSQK van. His eyes looked like they were full of light again, a light Mike absolutely adored seeing.
"I'm not," Mike jumped inside, plopping down across from El and Kali. "Hey, guys."
Will climbed in, settling in right next to Mike. Their shoulders brushed, the contact enough to light a fire. "Hello."
"Hello," Kali extended a hand across the van. "It's nice to meet you. You're... Will?"
Will nodded, shaking Kali's hand. "That's me. You're Kali, right?"
"That's me," Kali parroted, smiling softly.
Mike leaned sideways just a little more, pressing his shoulder more firmly against Will's. "Will... Look at El," Mike whispered.
Will tore his gaze away from Kali, giving El a second glance. El's hair was tucked up into one of Mike's old beanies; a few strands hung loose, but it was hardly noticeable. Instead of her usual clothes, she was wearing an oversized Metallica shirt, one she'd probably taken from the WSQK's storage room. And, to top off the disguise, she had a pair of Steve's sunglasses resting over her eyes.
"Sick disguise," Will leaned into Mike's shoulder, silently acknowledging his touch. "What is it you used to say, El?"
"Bitchin'," El and Kali said in unison, causing them both to start laughing.
In the back of that van, the tension of the end of the world was gone. And with Will's shoulder pressed against his, Mike was content.
He also really hoped Will was okay, considering what he must've experienced while he was stuck in his head.
Mike just wished Will would've talked about it.
┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈
The ride to the hospital should've been a blur.
For Will, that van ride was jam-packed with tension. He wasn't even sure if Mike noticed the subtle flirting--- the gentle brush of their shoulders that turned into leaning--- it was all too much in Will's brain. On top of that, he was still struggling with the things Vecna had made him see. The disgust in Lucas and Dustin's voices... The fight with his dad... His mother's overwhelming anxiety, and then... Mike....
Will kept his hands in his jacket pockets as they all walked down the hall. The lights flickered above Will's head, buzzing just quietly enough to be annoying. His shoes squeaked against the floor as he shuffled forward, just a few paces behind the others. It didn't take Mike very long to notice that Will had trailed behind just a bit. So, being the amazing best friend that he was, he slowed his pace to expertly back up into Will. Just like Robin had done in the tunnels.
Will, startled by the sudden contact and proximity, jolted a bit. He did a rushed double-take at Mike before looking away altogether. The floor was definitely 100x more interesting.
"Hey," Mike nudged Will's elbow with his own. "Are you okay? I know you hate hospitals."
Will was going to kill this boy.
How dare he know Will so goddamn well? How could he do this? Will was trying so hard to push down his feelings. Seriously, Mike's little sister was missing! Along with eleven other children! Will had to stay focused. And he had a really hard time doing that when Mike Wheeler was being... himself.
"Will?" Mike's voice softened even further, taking on that honey-like tone that was specially crafted just for Will. "You alright?"
Will finally regained the courage to speak. "Um-- Uh-huh! Yeah. I'm great."
A rookie mistake, really, because with the way his voice cracked, he knew Mike wanted to laugh. But, again, with Mike being the amazing best friend that he was... He held back. It was sweet, really. And it made Will hate Mike a little more.
"I don't buy it, Byers. You know you can't lie to me, right?" Mike leaned his head to the side just a little, just close enough for Will to feel his warm breath against his ear.
Will kept staring at the floor. Jesus Christ. This boy might actually be the death of me. At least I'm in a hospital. Maybe the doctors could resuscitate me. Would I even want them to? After all of THIS? No, no. I need to calm down. I promised myself I'd keep it to myself.
"Will?" Mike nudged him again, the contact sending sparks throughout Will's body.
Will hummed. "I'm fine, Mike. Really."
"It's the visions, isn't it?" Mike asked. His elbow kept brushing against Will's.
Will felt like he was dying. Seriously, what the hell was Mike doing? Even so, Mike was right--- Will could not lie to him. "Yeah, that's... part of it. Vecna made me see some awful things, Mike."
"I'm sorry," Mike whispered. "If you ever want to talk about it, I'll listen."
Will let out a strangled laugh, one that bordered on a sob. "I don't think that'd be a good idea, Mike. Vecna, he... he used my secrets against me. So... Telling you about the visions would mean telling you about the things I keep from everyone."
"Even me?"
Will's eyes burned as tears threatened to come out. He couldn't look at Mike. He'd notice right away. "Even you, Mike. I'm sorry. There are just some things I can't tell anyone... Even you."
"Guys!"
Will's head shot up as he saw Robin waving frantically from the end of the hall. "Robin?"
"Of course," Mike muttered under his breath, hardly loud enough for Will to hear him.
"She's awake!" Robin shouted, practically vibrating in place. "Max is awake!"
El was the first to make it into the room. In seconds, Steve's sunglasses were off her face and hooked on her Metallica shirt. "Max!"
Will watched with tears in his eyes as El flew to Max, wrapping her arms around Max's shaky frame.
"El, easy," Lucas sniffled, smiling as tears ran down his face. He placed a hand on El's shoulder. "Seriously, El. You're gonna crush her."
"It's fine, Lucas," Max giggled weakly, her voice hoarse. Her eyes flickered past El and at Will. "Jeez... Is that you, Will?"
Will nodded, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Yeah, hey."
"You got buff as hell," Max chuckled. As she laughed, she wheezed a little, clearly still struggling to adjust.
"Yeah, he did," Robin muttered.
Vickie hushed Robin and gently ushered her out into the hall. "Robin! Shh! They're having a moment."
"Hey, kid."
Max's eyes widened as she saw Hopper leaning against the doorframe. "Are you guys sure I'm not dead? Because I see Hopper in my doorway right now."
"He is alive, and so are you," El pressed a friendly, affectionate peck to Max's forehead. "I am so glad you are okay."
Max couldn't help but smile. "I'm glad all of you guys are okay. I heard all about Will's heroic save."
"Lucas told you?" Will asked, glancing over at Lucas for a moment.
Lucas nodded, subtly moving to squeeze Max's shoulders from behind her wheelchair. "Yeah. Sorry, I couldn't keep it from her, man."
"Will the Wise in real life," Max said breathlessly.
"Actually, he's more like a sorcerer."
Will didn't have to turn his head to see the goofy smile on Mike's face. Meanwhile, Lucas was sighing, and Max was stifling a laugh.
"Yeah... Got it," Max said, definitely judging Mike. "Hey, Wheeler? Would you mind getting me some water from down the hall?"
Will furrowed his brows in confusion, locking eyes with Max. "Why Mike specifically---"
"Yeah, for sure," Mike nodded and immediately slipped into the hall, where Robin and Vickie had been standing. Will stared out into the hall for a second.
Will raised an eyebrow and turned back to Max. "Why...?"
But before Max could answer, El pulled Kali from behind Joyce. "Max... This is Kali."
"Kali?" Max tilted her head very slowly. "I feel like you... told me about her once?"
El nodded, leading Kali closer to Max's wheelchair. "Yes! Back when I was in Chicago."
"You guys have a lot to fill me in on," Max breathed, slumping slightly in her wheelchair.
Will stepped closer, crouching down in front of Max's chair. "Then I'd better start."
┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈
Mike's shoes squeaked loudly against the floor as he shuffled down the hall. The water dispenser wasn't too far, only a few long strides away. By the time he'd made it, the flickering lights above him had gotten a bit dimmer, buzzing louder than usual.
"Geez... This hospital really needs to get their shit together," Mike muttered to himself, holding a paper cup under the dispenser. The water trickled into the cup, the sound sharp in the otherwise empty hallway.
Just as Mike had finished filling the cup, he heard giggling. Curious, Mike turned his head, leaning to the side slightly as he peered into an empty room.
Beyond the large crack in the door, Robin and Vickie were giggling. Kissing.
Oh.
Mike's eyes widened and he jolted back, bringing his attention back to the water dispenser.
He'd forgotten to turn it off.
Mike dropped to his knees, setting the cup aside carefully as he scrambled to wipe up the water with a few paper towels. Thank God there were some stacked on the dispenser. As he wiped up the water, Mike's mind raced. If Robin was with Vickie... then Will...
Will's crush on Robin was unreciprocated.
Mike frowned, wiping up the last of the water. He slowly got up from his knees, taking the damp paper towels to a nearby trash can. Poor Will. He's got this major crush on Robin, and it's unreciprocated, Mike thought. He silently vowed to comfort Will as best as he could. He had to be an amazing best friend to Will.
Because that is all you will ever be, Michael.
Mike froze in the hallway. His hand stilled over the trash can, still holding the damp paper towels. No. God, No. Mike closed his eyes tightly and dropped the paper towels in the trash before turning on his heel. The minute he opened his eyes, his heart dropped.
The water dispenser was on, and it was flooding the hallway.
"Shit, shit!" Mike exclaimed, rushing forward to turn it off. But no matter how hard he tried, the hallway kept getting longer and longer, and the water began to soak through his shoes. He kicked through the flood, cold and anxious, but determined to shut it off. How could a water dispenser hold that much water, anyway?
Ohhh. Wait.
Mike stopped in the water, letting it grow up to his calves. "This isn't real."
"Astute observation, Michael," Vecna's voice echoed through the hallway as he stepped out from around the corner. "You are smarter than I thought."
Mike swallowed hard, standing perfectly still in the center of the hall. "What do you want from me?"
"Is it not obvious, Michael?" Vecna inched closer, outstretching a hand. In a matter of seconds, Mike was lifted into the air.
Mike kicked his legs, desperately trying to get back down. "Put me down!"
"It is time, Michael."
Mike gasped as Vecna's hand tightened around his throat. "For--- What?"
Vecna then threw Mike against the wall, watching as the boy slumped down onto the flooded tile. "You will help me get to William."
Mike groaned, dizzily trying to push himself up from the floor. "Leave him alone."
"Then save him, Michael. Save him yourself."
Mike's shoes slipped against the tile as he tried and failed to get up. "I..."
"Ahhh... That's right. You can't."
"Yes, I can," Mike breathed, pressing his trembling palms against the floor. "I can save him."
"That is what you want to believe. What you desire. But William does not need you, does he, Michael?"
Tears dropped from Mike's face, landing into the puddles of water on the floor. "He... He does."
"He'd rather have Robin, though, wouldn't he? You saw the way he looked at her. He does not want you, Michael. And he doesn't need you."
Mike's strength disappeared. He collapsed forward into the water, letting it soak through his clothes as he rolled onto his back. As the water level continued to rise, Mike took in one final breath.
He doesn't need me.
┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈