Chapter Text
"It can't be… it's not Will…"
He's dead. He's really gone.
"You lied to us. Why did you lie? Why did you lie to us?"
All along, he was deep in the quarry while Mike was screaming from the top of lungs trying to find him. He was drowning all along. He was really drowning when Mike thought he was alive, when Mike was still useful and capable of saving him.
It got him. Will is dead. Will is dead.
A part of Mike feels like it's dying too, almost as if he was slamming onto the same ice-cold quarry Will had.
Mike is alone.
His face looked cold, Mike noticed. It looked so cold, blue with a criminal lack of warmth. He could still see his face as he biked back with tears in his eyes, blurry with muddy water and wasted dreams, crayon wax and old tears, blood and unmoving limbs.
✧✧✧
October 4, 1986
His eyes blinked, and he was in bed again. It was that time in the morning where the birds were still too ignorant to chirp and the sky was still receding from its cobalt blue, dawn peaking from the corners of the horizon. Mike felt sweat caked onto his face, beading from his forehead and onto his pillow as his breaths slowed. It was the same dream again, that cursed memory of when he had lost Will.
It kept coming back, showing up in the back of his mind every so often to remind him of his own patheticness. He felt like he couldn't breathe, clutching his sweaty old t-shirt in efforts to calm down. It was almost as if Vecna himself was in his brain, forcing him to relive the worst moments of his life to remind him. Remind him of what, exactly, Mike couldn't say.
He groaned, checking the time. It was six in the morning, his bedroom slightly freezing from the Indiana autumn, yet still suffocatingly warm. Or maybe that was just him, still reeling from a familiar nightmare. Mike sat up, stretching out his gangly limbs with an unsatisfying crack, staring at the wall for a quiet moment. Before he was forced to start the day and face the rest of the world, where he could just be with himself.
His eyes landed on that familiar corner in his room, where Will's incredible Thesselhydra painting lay rolled up in his closet. It was far too precious to simply hang up, for just anyone to see in plain sight. It was for Mike's eyes, and Mike's eyes only. Well, besides the fact that it wasn't even truly from Will. He was fine, it was fine. He couldn't even remember if El knew what his D&D class was when Will told him she commissioned it, but he just accepted it. He hadn't really thanked her for it yet, either. Him and El weren't exactly doing amazing, to tell the truth. But regardless of the origin, it was still his favorite of Will's paintings.
His doodles and drawings were still around Mike's room, as they always were, and always will be. It was a comfort, seeing the familiar illustrations after his nightmares.
Mike knew the nightmare was stupid, a memory that deserved to be buried alongside so many others, but he couldn't help but shiver from the feeling. It seemed to always give him the sudden urge to go over to the Byers' just to check if he was okay, if he was still there.
They were supposed to meet later that day anyway, so he suppressed the insane part of him that wanted to drop everything and run to him.
Somehow, he got up and trudged over to the bathroom. There was no point in sleeping again now; he knew that nightmare would simply come back to haunt him once more. Mike brushed his teeth with a scowl, staring into the bathroom mirror with the same silent disgust he felt every morning, spitting into the sink.
Will, Will, Will—was all that his sleep-deprived brain could muster up by then. It was stupid, so stupid. He was probably just fine, snoring safely in his shared room with Jonathan and Joyce. Safe and alive.
But…there was still a little part of him that needed to know, to see for himself.
It was so stupid. His nightmares were so stupid. What did Mike have to be scared of? He wasn't the one taken by that coldhearted bastard, nor the one treated like a rat in a suffocatingly sterile lab. No, Mike just watched. He watched the ones he loved be taken from him, treated like objects to discard and abuse.
He winced, shaking his head. It was too early for this, much too early.
Trudging back to his room with groggy half-thoughts, he curled up with a blanket on his desk chair. Pulling out a pen and paper, his saving grace in light of any problem ever, he began to write.
Something about a brave party of four slaying a Thesselhydra, about a paladin with a heart-shaped shield bravely leading them into battle. Something about a determined ranger marching with a majestic white horse, a strong bard wielding an axe, and a wise, magical cleric protecting them all. Something about a winning battle, one where he was needed to save the day. It was his favorite scenario to write, but also his least favorite. It was impossible to do the scene justice as Will had, usually ending in the paper being balled up and tossed away. But today was different, he could feel it. His writer's block was fizzling out, slowly but surely, locked into the paper with a hypnotizing pace.
Mike decided he needed to show Will, right at that moment. Will was probably asleep, but he wouldn't ever be mad at Mike for waking him up. His mouth would probably tilt into that shy little grin of his, as it always did, a sleepy look in his eyes as he would wait for Mike to speak.
Wasting no time, Mike neatly folded the paper and shoved it into his pocket, haphazardly pulling on a blue sweater as he descended the stairs. Two steps at a time, his feet moved with a swift pace that would make him trip if he slowed down suddenly. Getting onto his bike was easy, wheeling onto the leaf-littered roads without another thought. His mom wouldn't notice his disappearance, probably. He had better things to think about, after all.
✧✧✧
One knock, then two, then a third. Mike's foot tapped the ground below impatiently, smoothing down his curls waiting for a response.
The Byers had been living in a little rundown house off of Kerley for the past few months, an expensive form of government housing as a result of having sold their old house. Will had complained about it before, something about how it was too small for the three of them to live comfortably. It was getting expensive as well, the stress on Joyce and Jonathan's faces giving it away.
Footsteps trudged towards the door, heavy with exhaustion from the sounds of it. The walls were so thin, it was easy to discern which of the Byers it might have been.
A grin spread onto his face the moment he saw the sleepy boy in front of him, a warm greeting in the chilly Indiana autumn. Will's safe. Of course he is.
"Mike…? It's like…" Will yawned, blinking hard. "...so early."
Mike chuckled, turning a little red. Shit, maybe this was a bad idea. But it satisfied him to see his face anyway, assured that he was safe.
"Yeah, sorry! I just have something to show you." He rubbed the back of his neck, clutching the papers in his pocket in anticipation.
Will stepped aside, a silent invitation inside. Clearly, he had been peacefully asleep before Michael Wheeler's rude wake-up call. Mike took off his coat, heading straight for the kitchen. They only had one bedroom in the house, and it was Joyce's. With Jonathan fast asleep in their shared living room, there were only so many places for a quiet conversation in this place.
Will rubbed his eyes, yawning again with a tired little squeak. He rested his head on his palm, leaning onto their tiny dining table as he waited for Mike to speak.
"So… what's up?" He asked, mumbling sleepily.
"Will, do you…" Mike bit his lip, fumbling with the papers in his hands as the words came to him. "Do you remember that painting you gave me? During spring break?"
Hearing this, Will's eyes became comically wide, forgetting its tired state. He blinked quickly, almost nervous, as he spoke. "Oh… what, um… what about it?"
"I wrote it. Finally."
Will blinked slowly, his train of thought visibly cut off. "You what?"
The smile on his face appeared naturally, initial worry leaving him as he began rambling.
"Well, I've been trying for ages to write the scene, but it always seemed kinda off, you know? And I just kept writing and tossing it, but I think this one's really it. I dunno, I brought it for you to read. You tell me, I guess is what I'm trying to say."
The confusion quickly left Will's face, replaced by something unreadable and cautious. "Oh, so it's um…it's for El?"
Mike shrugged, picking on a thread of his sleeve. "Not really. I mean, well, I guess she's still a little distant. But I don't know if this would help, exactly. I just… Can you read it? I wanted you to read it first." He said sheepishly.
"Right, yeah…" Will hesitantly picked up the papers, eyes scanning over as he took in Mike's writing.
Mike chewed on his lower lip, watching every slight change in the other boy's expression like his life depended on it. Will's pupils just got increasingly larger with every passing second, as it always did when Mike shared his writing. It was always enough to make Mike's cheeks tint with an embarrassing pink, the silent praise somehow overwhelming.
"Wow, Mike…" It wasn't any different now, Will's eyes struck in awe as he stared blankly at the passionately-scribbled story. He let out a slow breath, locking eyes with Mike. If Mike squinted, he could see the other boy's cheeks slowly turning pink as well.
A shy grin spread onto his face easily, leaning in closer. "Is it good? 'Cause I kinda wrote it in a rush this morning. I dunno, the words just sort of came to me like a writing fiend possessed me, or something. But… do you think—"
"I love it," Will croaked out, cutting his nervous rambles off gently. "Of course I do. Everything you write is just… incredible, Mike."
"You think so?" It was funny, in hindsight, all six feet of him melting from a few words from his best friend.
Will just nods, a sweet, Will-Byers-smile planted onto his face. "Yeah, I liked the part where Lucas charged in with his horse, that was awesome. And how I cast fireball, just… wow, Mike. It was really good." He stops talking, faint embarrassment creeping into his expression. "So… are you giving it to El, now?"
Mike just stares blankly. "What? No, no. Um, I don't think… I don't know. I just wanted to show you, that's all."
"Oh. Cool."
"Cool."
Mike looked around, realizing what time it was. "Shit, um, go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you up."
He shook his head, getting up. "No, it's alright. Wanna go for a walk? Beats waking up Mom and Jonathan."
Mike nodded gratefully, and Will grabbed a yellow flannel as they headed out the door together.
✧✧✧
"Mike?"
"Yeah?"
"Is there… any reason you wrote this so early in the morning?"
Of course, Will saw right through him. They had been walking in relative peace, Mike dragging his bike along as they strolled to nowhere in particular. He could tell that Will wanted to bring it up, but it came to him like second nature to keep deflecting with random story plot points. But this was Will, and Mike always found it difficult to keep anything from him.
"Yeah, um," Mike paused, wringing his hands together. "Bad dream. Felt like writing, I guess."
Will looked at him, a hint of concern carefully making its way onto his face.
Mike sighed, looking past Will's head at the window. "It wasn't anything new. It was stupid."
Will simply stared at him, waiting for him to crack.
Mike sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It was… the quarry. It was dumb, I—"
"The quarry?"
"Yeah," Mike swallowed the lump in his throat, looking above at the fall foliage around them. "Where you… you know."
"Mike, you know I'm right here, right? I'm safe."
The leaves seemed to fall around them slowly as a gentle breeze went through the air, hues of orange and red dancing in the sky.
"I know you are. I know, okay? But that day? I was terrified. We all were. And I guess that fear… never really… left me. And now Vecna's here, his disgusting Ooze-looking face hiding somewhere we can't find…" Mike sighed, looking at Will again. "I really wanna be this confident leader that everybody can look up to, but the truth is that I'm terrified."
Will looked at him, scanning his face with quiet concern. "I'm scared too, sometimes. A lot of the time."
His breath hitched, looking at the other boy's face. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. I have nightmares too… all the time. Mostly from when I was in the Upside Down… that feeling never really left me. And now that November's coming again, I know it's just going to get worse, like it always does."
Mike knew about this already, and he tensed up. Ever since Will was rescued in 1983, the anniversary of that date had been very difficult to deal with. He always tried to comfort him in some way, but after last year's phone call to California, Mike wasn't exactly getting regular updates on how Will was truly doing. After that mess of a fight they had the roller rink, however, Mike knew something had to change. Will, or he supposes El, was right; Mike really was the heart of the party. If they were going to somehow find and defeat Vecna, the Heart couldn't keep acting like this.
So Mike had been trying his hardest, extending an olive branch with every small interaction he could muster with Will. And it had worked, somewhat. They were finally becoming normal with each other again, slowly opening up after half a year of miscommunication and radio silence. But there was always a grey cloud lingering above him, something unspoken flickering in the air that watched over their every interaction. Mike ignored it, most of the time; he just got Will back, there was no point in lingering onto any questionable feelings.
Mike understood, more than anyone, how Will must have felt. They were almost exactly a month away from the anniversary, after all. He looked at him gently, with that soft voice he reserved only for Will. "Well, if you have one again anytime soon, my walkie's always on. Okay? Just call me and I'll be there."
To this, Will visibly relaxed a little, a small smile on his face. "You too, alright? I'll be there."
Mike nudged him a little, sharing a relaxed smile. Will nudged back, and Mike felt his chest pounding a little harder than before.
"Well, uh, Mom must have woken up by now. She's probably already having a heart attack and calling Hopper." Will chuckled, swaying his hands a little. "See you later?"
"Yeah." Mike grinned. "Later. I'm gonna obliterate you in DigDug, just wait."
Will laughed, sunshine practically emanating off of his face as he began walking back. "We'll see about that!"
Maybe they would be okay. For now, nothing could touch them, as long as the other one was there.