Chapter Text
Hawkins, Indiana is a cursed place, as far as Mike Wheeler is concerned. The town has seen its fair share of turmoil and has tormented the lives of him, his family, and friends for the greater portion of his life. Although it has been five years since Hawkins has gone back to normal-whatever normal means -it seems to still have its shackles on Mike. Lucas and Max moved to California, Dustin got accepted to MIT, and Will moved to New York to pursue his art. Everybody closed the door on Hawkins, leaving Mike on the other side. Tethered by his ankle to this stupid fucking town. He can't help but feel like his life is just destined to be doomed and he knows that's partially his fault. The chasm he's found himself in seems to only be getting deeper, descending into madness and he knows it's time to dig himself out, he just can't make himself do it. That's the thing about depression, once it gets it's claws in you, you're too weak to put it behind you. Hopelessness starts to feel like comfort.
A fresh, powdery blanket of snow coats the front yard. The cold has a bite to it, sending a chill through Mike's bones and reminding him of how much Will hates this time of year. Panic spreads like a wildfire in his chest at the thought. He tugs his thrifted cable-knit sweater over his head and adjusts the glasses on his nose. The Wheeler household is pretty much sparkling by the time he's finished preparing for Nancy's arrival. Not a fleck of dust in sight.
The holidays are the only solace Mike seems to get, with everyone returning from school to visit their families. Well, almost everyone.
He hears three rhythmic raps on the front door and jumps up from the sofa. When he swings the door open he finds Nancy, sugar dusted hair, suitcase in tow, with a big smile on her face. When Nancy moved out of the Wheeler household to go to Emerson, they became a lot closer. Distance really does make the heart grow fonder, turns out. They started scheduling weekly phone calls and would talk for hours at a time. She would tell him about Boston and her classes, he would tell her about how Hawkins was holding up.
"Hey, you." Nancy pulls him into a suffocating hug and keeps him there. The realization washes over him that he missed this and he sinks into her embrace.
Parties have never been Mike's strong suit. One too many people in a room and he's at risk of breaking out in hives. The only time he isn't too blunt or off-putting is when his mouth stays shut. He always ends up looking like an asshole either way. The floorboards pulse to the beat of Just Like Heaven by The Cure reverberating through his entire body. Our song his brain so kindly supplies.
"Why are you so far away?", she said.
"Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you,
that I'm in love with you?"
His head spins and vision starts to blur at the edges, gone in a blink as soon as the next song starts.
His eyes scan the room when his eyes fall on a very animated Lucas, telling a story to the others. He approaches their tight circle, making a spot for himself amongst them.
"Hey, Man!" Lucas throws his arms around him and Max rolls her eyes "Hey, Wheeler. Long time no see."
Dustin gestures towards the girl on his left "This is the Kelly I've been telling you about!"
Mike gives a tight smile and tries not to think about the fact that he's going to be fifth wheel for the foreseeable future. His clutch on his now room-temperature beer tightens. The group drones on about their classes and internships. Mike quickly loses interest and finds a spot on the floor to fixate on while his brain drowns out the noise. Will didn't show up. It's really not so surprising to think he wouldn't show. Will hasn't come home once since he left for NYU and Mike can't say he blames him. Hawkins took more from Will than any one person should have to sacrifice, let alone a child. Still, he can't help but thinking it's his fault Will has avoided returning like the plague.
After all, he stopped responding to Mike's letters and phone calls about three months into him being away. He knows that he keeps in touch with the rest of the party regularly because that's how Mike gets his source when checking in on Will. He's not sure where he misstepped but it had to have been something big to make Will stop talking to his best friend.
"Mike, buddy, you in there?" Lucas waves his hand in front Mike's face.
Mike's attention snaps back into focus, immediately. "Y-yeah. Sorry just tired."
"Did you already get your invitation?"
"Invitation? To...?"
Everyone's eyes go wide and dart back and forth between each other and Mike.
"What invitation?"
Dustin manages to be the first to speak up "Did y- Did you not get an invite?". The knots in Mike's stomach increased tenfold. He's starting to lose his patience when Lucas starts "I think we need to tell him, guys..." He reaches a hand out and rests it on Mike's shoulder.
"Just tell me, what the hell is going on?"
Max's eyes soften with pity and she chews her lip, a look that Mike has only once been on the receiving end of. "Lucas, I don't know if.... I don't know."
Dustin takes a step forward as though he's approaching a land mine. "Will. He's getting married next year. You didn't kn-"
Mike can't even hear the rest of Dustin's sentence over the ringing of his ears. The room tilts on its axis and his legs start to betray him, nearly sending him toppling to the floor. The bile begins to rise in his throat. "Just give me a second I need-" He gags, stumbling backwards and bolting for the restroom door. He slams it behind himself and falls to the toilet. Short, sharp gasps explode from his lungs and he retches into the toilet as though his insides are trying to escape his body. The frigid shock of the tile is the only thing anchoring him to this moment.
Just when he thinks he's done getting sick and starts gaining bearings again, he pictures Jonathan walking Will down the aisle to give him away to a man that isn't Mike. His oldest best friend, and he didn't even know he was getting married. The wave of nausea hits him like a freight train and he's back hovering above the toilet. This is when the hysteria starts to cave in on him, sobs heavy. Stop. Breathe. You're okay. He counts the maroon flowers on the gaudy wallpaper in an attempt to ground himself. To bring himself back down from the precipice. Just like his therapist taught him.
One two-
What the fuck is happening? Why are you so upset over this? You should be happy for him. For him and his-
His stomach twists at the thought.
Fiancé. You need to move on. He has.
One two three four five six seven-
The sudden realization that he's 5 years too late has him heaving again. He let Will slip through his fingers like water, evaporating before Mike even knew he wanted to find purchase. Like always, Mike arrives when the train has already left the station. Missing every opportunity extended to him by the universe, every goddamn time.
He feels a sharp pang where his heart is, and he thinks that must be because it's shattering.
So this is why they call it heartbreak.
Ever since the day Will left for Lenora, Mike has not been the same. It was the day that El told him she loved him. It was also the day he realized he didn't love her back. Not in that way at least. When the car disappeared down the road, taking Will away from him, it turned Mike inside out. Every night was taken over by cold sweats, trembling hands, panic attacks. Nightmare after nightmare reminding him of Will's disappearance, of the day Will's body was retrieved from the quarry, of the summer Will was taken over by the Mind-Flayer. Slowly, but surely they turned into nightmares of Will abandoning him.
Until one night, the nightmare consisted of Mike kissing Will. Will pushed him away by his chest and he was so angry with him. He ran out of Mike's room, down the stairs, and Mike watched from his window as Will hopped onto his bike and left. Mike woke up with tears already falling from his eyes- like his body was reacting before his conscious mind even knew- and hugged his knees to his chest. What did this even mean? Why did the thought of Will not wanting to kiss him back make his heart twist in his chest? Deep down, Mike knows why. He pushes it back into the darkest recesses of his mind and hopes it goes away. Whether that be out of self-preservation or denial, he couldn't be sure. He's pretty sure this is when the downfall of their friendship began.
Mike is a story teller and a writer. He's never been one to suffer at the hand of writer's block. Until Will left and Mike tried to write him. The words for El came easy, rehearsed. He knew what he was supposed to say, he knew the script. In his letters to Will, it was harder to be dishonest with him. It was more difficult to camouflage the way he was truly feeling. He felt like he made it too obvious, like he may as well have plastered "I love you, Will" over and over across the entire page. All of letters felt like confessions and he decided he couldn't send them. They now reside in an old shoebox in his closet, never to be found by his dad.
So he never sent a letter.
When he visited California, Will confronted him about it at the skating rink and he had no idea what to say. He couldn't tell him the truth, he just couldn't. He wasn't even sure what he was feeling yet. Will asked why Mike had written letter upon letter to El but never once to Will and all he had to offer was "We're friends". Soon after, he came to the realization that he was constantly reaffirming they were just friends to Will. At the rink, in Will's room on that same trip, in the pizza van when will had given him the painting he made for him, on the tower after Will had come out as gay to the whole group.
It was mistake after mistake that he couldn't quite take back. A decision that would continue to haunt him. It was moments like this the ghost would manifest. Hanging over his shoulder.
Mike's head is hung limp, heaving into the toilet bowl, his body racked with sobs. He tries and fails to steady his breathing. The door clicks shut behind him and he flinches when Nancy's hand rest on his shoulder. "Go away, Nance. I'm fine." he says with more bite than he means to.
"Mike..."
"I said I'm fine you can go back to the party. I'm fine." Maybe if he says it enough even he will start to believe it. He brushes away the lingering hand at his shoulder.
She sits down on the floor, hugging her knees towards herself and shoots him a knowing look.
"This isn't just drinking and we both know it." He hates how observant she is sometimes. "I heard what you and Lucas were talking about. I also know that you've only had two beers tonight. I pay more attention than you think, Mike. So.. Will, huh?" She nudges his arm with her elbow and waggles her eyebrows.
"Oh, fuck off." A breathy laugh forces its way out of him and it breaks the dam of tears he's been trying to hold in. He begins to hyperventilate as the dread carves out a pit in his chest. This is what he was afraid of. People seeing straight through him. Knowing his darkest secret. The fear that they would decide they didn't want him anymore was all-consuming.
Nancy's voice falls to a hush and she starts to run her fingers through his hair. It reminds him of when their mom used to do the same when they had trouble falling asleep. "Hey, Mike it's okay. You know you can talk to me about this. I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't come to me."
He lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in and sits back on the tile floor, scoots over next to his sister and rests his head against the wall, his face still wet with tears or sweat- Mike isn't sure. "Nance, you didn't do anything to make me feel that way it's just- it's scary is all. No matter who it is."
"Am I- am I the first to know?"
He shakes his head. "Uh.. Max knows. She kind of pried it out of me."
"Max?!" The look on her face is comical. "Like Mayfield?"
"Ha. Yeah. But I think she already knew. You were the first person I wanted to tell."
He can see her eyes turn glossy and she leans in to pull him in to hug him so tight he thinks she might be trying to prevent him from falling apart. And she kind of is. He inhales the scent of their laundry detergent on her sweater and something quiets in him.
"So what's the game plan?"
"The game plan? What do you mean, game plan?"
"Well, you have to stop him from going through with it." She says this as if it's the easiest thing in the world. As if it's a given that Mike could change the trajectory of his descent into a tragic lonely life. So dramatic.
"Nance, I can't do that to Will. It's not fair to him." His fingers absent-mindedly pick at the scab on his hand and tries not to let his mind wander to a scenario where he tells Will and they live happily-ever-after. His attempt is unsuccessful.
The glare she gives him could cut glass "Okay and it's not fair to you to have to hold it all in. Also, I know you think you're protecting Will but it's not fair to him to marry some guy not knowing how you feel about him." She pauses and he can tell she's trying to be careful with her words. "If I were him, and my childhood best friend was in love with me, I would want them to tell me. I would want to know before making a commitment that I can't take back. He deserves to know."
Mike gulps "Nance, I can't-" He thinks back to the last time they saw each other, before Will left for college. He stops the thought in its tracks before he can start to feel the emotions attached. He hates that he can't tell her everything.
She cuts him off. "If he goes through with this, Mike, you will never be able to tell him. Not even when you're ready. Not even when it's tearing you apart from the inside out, although it seems you're already headed that direction. Once he's married to this guy, that's it. Your chance is gone. Forever. So take it while you can.
"Look you don't have to, but it's better to be rejected and know where you guys stand than never tell him and spend the rest of your life wondering what your life could have been if you had just taken the chance."
Mike's stomach clenches in fear, because he knows that Nancy is right. He stopped taking risks a long time ago, let the fear take hold and pin him to the ground where he stands. All it's done is land him in the exact same spot he's always been. "What if he doesn't want me back anymore, Nancy?" She swipes at the single tear trailing down his cheek.
"He would be a fool not to."
"Nance, I'm so sorry-" Her brow furrows in confusion, "I'm sorry that I'm- you know. I'm sorry you had to find out this way. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I'm sorry." his shoulders begin to shake.
She squeezes him tighter "Hey, hey. Do not apologize. I'm just happy you're talking to me about it now. I hope I'm someone you feel like you can come to with this stuff from now on. I want to be here for you." she disappears into thought for a second "Listen, you have a year. So whenever you're ready to tell him, you just let me know and I'm there. We will figure this out together."
His sister may be a pain in the ass but, god, she's the best sister he could ever ask for. "I love you, you know that?"
She knocks her knee against his "I love you too, Mike." She lifts herself off of the floor and reaches both hands out to help Mike up and pulls him in for a hug.
"Here, you smell like vomit." She extends a hand offering a piece of gum.
A small laugh manages to escape from Mike's mouth and he accepts the gum. "Shut up."
He looks in the mirror and, god, he looks wrecked. His eyes are swollen and red rimmed, he looks paler than he's ever looked-Which he didn't know was possible- and his hair looks disheveled. He splashes some cold water on his face, combs his hair back into place with his fingers and prepares himself for the world waiting for him outside of the Sinclair bathroom.
That night the nightmares come back full force.
Mike is sitting in the back row. Too bright. Too loud. He isn't supposed to be here. Why is he here? He seems to be invisible to everyone here. Lucas, Dustin and Max all stand to the right of the podium, four men he doesn't know stand on the opposite side. Another man he's never seen is standing in the center. Pressed black suit. Joyce floats around the room hugging and greeting people. Not Mike, though. It's a slow realization, like a frog in a boiling pot of water. His brain finally supplies the answer- Will's wedding. Mike's eyes survey the room and he can't help but notice that Lonnie is no where in sight. Good. Piece of shit. he thinks to himself. The music starts, a piano rendition of Just Like Heaven, because of fucking course it would be. Why wouldn't their wedding song be his and Will's song? And maybe he's possessive. Who fucking cares? That's when he sees him. Will steps out of the door at the end of the aisle, arm in arm with Jonathan. When he sees Will's face light up at the scene awaiting him on the other side of the room Mike's heart sinks to his feet. It's when he's passing Mike's pew that Will's eyes find him and hold him prisoner. Something flashes over his face that registers as hurt, as regret, Mike thinks. Will's eyes start to pool with tears.
Mike wakes with a startle and his chest is heaving, his hair clinging to his forehead with sweat. He clutches at his bedsheets to remind himself he's here and glances over at the clock on his night stand that reads 5:03 AM. He pulls his knees into himself and feels the tears threaten to spill over. He drags his hands down his face and hangs his head in defeat. If he lets himself go down this rabbit hole again he's gonna be stationed over the toilet again. He needs Nancy.
He tiptoes across the hallway and slowly creaks her door open. He whispers as hushed as he possibly can "Hey, Nance? You awake?"
She throws the blanket off of her head and groans. "I am now. What do you want?" The irritation in her eyes burns a hole in his chest.
"Um I-"
She must see the tears and see Mike's hands shaking because she shoots straight up, anger falling away to concern, patting the mattress next to her. "Hey, come sit down. What's wrong?"
"Stupid fucking nightmares." He plops down on the bed next to her. "They won't stop, Nance. It's been like 3 fucking weeks."
Her arms wrap around him, and a hand is back in his hair at a feeble attempt to soothe him. "The nightmares are back?" worry flashes across her face when he nods. "Shit. Do you want to tell me about it?"
"It was Will's wedding." he manages to somehow choke out. She waits for him to continue. "And everyone was in the wedding party and I was just out there alone. And Will walks down the aisle to our song" Nancy raises her eyebrows "You know what- Never mind. But he looked so happy but then he- then he looked at me and it was like all of the light left his eyes and he didn't-" Mike's voice breaks "He looked so sad, Nance. He looked so sad." Tears dripped from his nose to his shirt, leaving the evidence behind.
"Mike... I know you don't want to hear this but- But you need to tell him. Look at you, it's destroying you." He thinks of his ashen face in the mirror, circles under his eyes darker than he's ever seen them. "You can't keep doing this to yourself. It's self-induced torture."
"It kinda is, isn't it?" a laugh escapes him and he tries to piece his words together. "I just don't know that I can do that to him. And if he rejects me, or worse, wants me out of his life for good... I- I don't think I'll be able to make it..." He can barely get his words out as he starts gasping for air. "I can't lose him again, Nance. I just can't."
"It doesn't have to be now. But this is eating you alive. You won't know how he feels until you come clean. Who knows, maybe he even feels the same."
Nancy doesn't know about the painting Will made for him. The one he told Mike that El commissioned, in a selfless attempt to save his and El's relationship. Mike knew from her letters that Will was working on a painting she was not allowed to see. That she thought Will was making the piece for someone he liked, some girl. And then Will gave it to him.
"Nance.. I never told you about the painting. Hold on." He lunges off the bed and makes way to his room, retrieving the framed painting off of his wall.
Nancy's door shuts softly behind him and he offers the painting to her.
Nancy has made her way out of the comforter and thrown on a grey sweatshirt, her eyes lingering on the item in his hands. Her hands trace the frame as she studies it. "What's this?" She reaches for it and touches the glass that protects it. "Wow. Is this- Did Will- Did he make this for you?"
Before he loses his courage he pushes through the discomfort and the words tumble out of him "He- he gave it to me that spring break. When I went to Lenora. He gave it to me but he told me it was commissioned by El. And he gave me a big speech about how El needed me and how I made her feel like she wasn't a mistake and- and then I looked at him and- and he was crying. And the more I think about it, the more I think those words were never from El in the first place. I think they were his. And I- I was too much of a coward to say I felt the same way about him. I was too scared of what everyone would think and I freaked out and after that I distanced myself and pulled away and it was the biggest mistake of my life. Why did I do that? He was right there in front of me and I just threw it away. Like it didn't matter. So fucking stupid." He smoothes the fabric of Nancy's bedding again and again in hopes the motion would keep him calm.
"Hey, hey. It's okay. Relax. It's gonna be okay. This is Will we're talking about. He's not going anywhere." Deep down, Mike knows this is true but he can't help the nagging feeling that things are just destined to come crashing down for him, as they always have. He also knows that Nancy knows Will. She's watched him grow up alongside Mike. She's seen the way they treat each other versus how they treat their other friends. The shared looks accompanied by small smiles at the dinner table. The way Mike has always protected Will so fiercely and the small soft voice reserved for only Will in an attempt never remind him of his poor excuse of a father. She remembers that whenever Will would go nonverbal- Which was often when they were really young- Mike taught himself and Will morse code so they could still communicate. On several occasions, Joyce requested that Mike stay at the Byers household until Will's episodes would run their course. She knew Mike was the only one who could get him through to the other side of it. Only Mike could ever do that for Will. Nancy knew that had to mean something.
He places the painting on Nancy's desk and begins pacing back and forth from the closet to her nightstand, hands fiddling with the drawstrings on his hoodie. "Okay so, I should write him another letter? Or do I call him? I'm a little nervous. I think maybe a letter because then if he wants he can ignore it and we can just move on and act like it never even happened but then is he going to be mad at me for saying something so important in a letter? I don't know if I can do it on the pho-"
Nancy stops him mid-spiral with her finger in the air, looking like she's had an epiphany. She floats to the computer on her oak desk, opens a window and types for what feels like ten minutes, clicks around some and then raises her eyes to look at him. "I'm looking up flights to New York. If you leave this Tuesday and stay a week the round trip ticket is super cheap."
"Nance, I can't fly to New York just to tell someone I have feelings for them."
She throws her hands into the air with a huff, "Will isn't just someone and these aren't just feelings, Mike. You're in love with the kid. I see the way you look at him." His eyes widen. He's pretty sure he could melt down through the cracks in the floorboards and straight to the center of the earth. Is he really so transparent that his sister knows he loves Will before he even does? Does anybody else know?
He knows it started as soon as he was old enough to form and store his memories. Before he could even understand what it really meant. Maybe that's why it had taken him so long to acknowledge it. The dynamic they shared had always felt so natural to him. He never felt the shift, that's just how it had always been with Will. They were a duo. Never just Mike. Never just will. Always Mike and Will. Together.
I love Will. he thinks to himself. God, I love him.
And he does love Will. He really does.
"Well, what if I show up and I have to see him-" His eyes gloss over "with him." He zones out on the condensation beading on Nancy's bedroom window, waiting for one of the drops to give in to gravity. It doesn't.
"I don't know but you better figure it out because I just bought your tickets." He reaches to take the computer mouse from her hand and she snatches it back.
"What the hell! You can't do that! I'm not letting you pay for my plane ticket." She cleans back in the chair, a smug grin on her face. "Non-refundable, sorry." She shrugs. He could kill her.
"Well, at least let me pay you back."
"Oh, please. I know Melvald's basically pays you in pennies. It's my treat. Merry Christmas." She smiles again, this time more genuine. "So, you're going right?"
"Well, yeah! I can't let your money go to waste like that, so yeah. Yeah, I guess I'm going." He's beginning to think this was Nancy's plan all along. She claps her hands together and then grabs Mike's wrist dragging him out of the room. "Get dressed, we've gotta get you some new clothes." her eyes give him a once-over, landing at the top of his head. "Oh, and a new haircut."
"What's wrong with my hair?" She looks at him dead-pan and Mike knows she means it.
"Trust me, Mike. Will does not like this clean cut Ted Wheeler costume you're wearing. Between this hairstyle-" She waves a hand to gesture at his head "-the polos and these glasses... you look like dad threw up on you." Harsh. He relents as she yanks her keys off of her desk, other hand around his wrist as she pulls him through the door.
Mike taps his pencil on the desk and erases the half finished sentence for the fifth time. Writer's block isn't typically an issue when it comes to Will. But this feels scarier. It feels more real. The blank stationary is almost staring back at him, laughing in his face. It appears that professing your undying love for someone is a lot harder than one would think. Maybe he's an idiot for having to write it all out, but he's never been good with words when they aren't on paper. He at least needs to articulate how he feels so he doesn't misstep. One misstep could ruin everything. So he puts the graphite to the page again.
Dear Will,
It's been a long time since we've talked. Understatement of the century. I know I'm partially to blame for that. I know you stopped responding to my letters and stopped answering my calls, but I think I know why. The rest of the party came to town over the holidays and told me about your engagement. Congrats. I'm happy for you and I'm also so fucking sorry for what I'm about to do. Maybe it's insensitive of me to do this but this is consuming me, Will. It's all I can think about.
I know our friendship started ripping at the seams the minute you moved to Lenora. I guess that's why I write you this letter. To let you know what changed back then, and what's changed now. The day you left to California, everything shifted in my brain. El told me that she loved me for the first time. It was only then that I realized that I didn't love her back. Not like that, at least. I guess that's why I couldn't even say it to her in her final moments. Friends don't lie, right? Anyway, when I had to say goodbye to you, Will, the last time I had felt a pain that bad was when you got taken. It felt like you were being taken from me all over again. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep without having nightmares about that time in our life. Waiting for you to show up at school, staring at your empty desk. Hearing your voice, so scared, over the walkie. The police lifting what I thought was your body out of the quarry. You laying in a hospital bed screaming for me as the mind flayer took over your mind.
I had so many talks with Nancy about you leaving, there were times I would call her in the middle of the night because the nightmares just wouldn't stop. The bad thoughts were relentless. I couldn't understand why it hurt me more than El leaving. I told myself it was because I had known you longer, or maybe because of the trauma I had from that period in our lives. But underneath it all, I knew that wasn't true. And that terrified me. I wasn't ready for that kind of realization. You know how I feel about change, and this was a big change. So I panicked. I stopped calling, I stopped writing, I built a wall so high that nobody could get in. Not even you, when you were who I wanted to break past that wall the most. I know I was such an ass to you when I came to visit you guys that spring break and I'm so sorry about the way I acted. I know I already apologized but it's something that has stuck with me since. I can't believe I treated you that way in an effort to hide the way I was really feeling.
I just didn't know what that meant for me, as a person. I've always been harder on myself than everyone around me. I know you know that. I didn't know what my mom and especially my dad would say. I thought about what the party would think. Realistically, I know they wouldn't care. That they would be happy for me and supportive. But I just couldn't get out of my own way. And then when you came out to us, I knew deep down that the boy you were talking about was me. Then you said you were over that person and you had moved on. So I thought that was the end for me. I thought I would never even have a chance again. I thought I was too late. I know that's no excuse. I know there were still signs after we defeated Henry. I just couldn't risk being wrong and ruining what we had. I will never forgive myself for that, Will. I've wasted so much of my life being too scared to love you the way you deserve. Wasting time that we will never get back.
When I heard that you were getting married, I felt sick to my stomach. I feel so guilty for that, Will, you have no idea how guilty I feel. I want you to be happy I really do. When I found out, Nancy talked me through it and asked me how I really felt about you.. When I finally found the words to describe it I realized that I love you.. So much it hurts, Will.. You will always be my best friend, of course. Nothing could ever change that. But I'm in love with you. I'm sorry.
I have been so scared to ruin what we have because it already feels so fragile. And it's okay if you don't love me back, I can live with that. But I can't live without you, Will. I can't lose you again. If I have to shove my feelings down just to keep you in my life I will do it in a heartbeat. So don't feel bad if you don't feel the same. I just don't want things between us to change. I just couldn't keep letting this hang over my head. It's making me subconsciously build a barrier between us and it's only hurting the both of us more.
I'm so sorry to tell you this when you're with someone. I know it isn't fair to you. I think I'm scared that if I don't tell you now, I'll never do it. I'm afraid that I'll never get the opportunity to tell you the truth. I can't live life without knowing I tried. I can't live with that regret. And maybe that makes me selfish. But Nancy said it wouldn't be fair to keep it from you either.
So, I guess I just want to apologize for taking so long to come to terms with it. I'm sorry that I was too in my head to come to you about it until now. I know it's the worst possible timing. It's just that it's my last chance to tell you before.. well, you know. You don't have to respond. I just wanted you to know.
Love, Mike
It's only when he places the pencil on back onto the desk that he realizes his cheeks are wet. Writing something so honest, something he has needed to say for so long turns out to be cathartic. He may be scared as hell, but he's tired of running from himself.
The warm aroma of Karen Wheeler's Famous Lasagna lingers through their home as Mike places the final clean plate on the drying rack. His mom is gathering ingredients to make chocolate chip cookies, his father already having retreated to his shabby grey recliner to watch the news. What's new? Mike thinks to himself. Holly is sat at the table, pencil in hand. Mike takes a peek over her shoulder at her sketchbook and his heart flutters when he notices that she is using art techniques that Will taught her.
Will was always so good with Holly, and they became close when he moved back from Lenora. Even closer after Hawkins closed back up. They could relate to one another in a way other people could never imagine. He would sit with her at Mike's desk for hours on end, teaching her all about shading, perspective, everything there was to know about drawing. He always pushed her to keep going. It's nice to see that she listened. And she's really getting good. She's a little shit, but Mike is proud of her.
"Hey, Mike. I cleared my schedule so I'm gonna drop you off on Tuesday, alright?" Nancy announces as she wipes the counters with a paper towel. Karen's head snaps to attention.
Shit shit shit shit shit sh-
"What's Tuesday? Are you going to the Sinclair's?" Thanks a lot, Nancy. His eyes shoot daggers towards Nancy at full speed and her response is a shrug and eyebrow raise.
Mike sorts through all the files in his brain to find any excuse to be making a last minute trip to see his best friend.
"Uh... I- I'm going to visit Will. In New York." He waits for the lecture.
"Oh? Will? This Tuesday? Well, why didn't you tell me about this, Michael? How is he doing? Is everything okay?"
She was always worrying for Will that way. When he was just a boy, she always noticed how timid he was and how afraid he was to upset Mike's parents. Always making himself smaller, so as not to inconvenience them. She always had her concerns about his home life, knowing that children don't act that way with adults for no reason. Mike insisted that Will come over every possible weekend and every possible school break. Even in the summer. Karen wanted to help Will get out of that house as much as she could, so she agreed. However, one weekend he came over and the boys were doing watercolor at the dining room table. Will was wearing one of Mike's t-shirts since he forgot pajamas and she noticed a large purple bruise in the shape of a hand wrapping around his upper arm and that was all the proof she needed.
Mike remembers her grabbing her keys off the counter and bolting out of the door. He doesn't know much about what happened when she left, but he can guess. She returned with a pepperoni pizza in tow and informed the boys that Will would be staying over for the entire week. Mike and Will couldn't believe it because Karen never let the boys have sleepovers on week days. Karen spent the entire week taking Will under her wing as if he were her own, washing his clothes, packing his lunchbox every morning, and tucking him in every night. Joyce left Lonnie a week later. That was when Will returned home.
"Nancy bought me the ticket yesterday." He tries to think of a way to tell the truth without telling the whole truth "He doesn't know I'm coming. We haven't talked in a few years.. But Lucas says he's doing well. He's getting married, I guess." I'm gonna puke.
Her face twists into a frown and something that looks like sympathy settles on her face. "Oh, honey. I'm so sorry."
Huh?
He shoots another glare at Nancy and she puts her hands up as if to say I didn't say anything! His eyes glance over to the living room, where his father sits, blissfully unaware of everything. It's the only time Ted Wheeler being completely absorbed by the television has ever been helpful.
She knows, oh my god. She knows. Do I try to lie? That won't work, she always can tell when you're lying, dumbass. Fuck fuck fuck. What do I do?
The gears turning in his head must be glaringly obvious because she calmly says "I know how you and Will have always had your own special thing. This must be so hard for you. Are you- Are you going to New York to tell him?" She cards her fingers through his hair, in the soothing way she always does. His eyebrows shoot nearly straight to his hairline. "Michael, I know my son. And the look on your face when you're with Will, that's a once in a lifetime thing." His stomach lurches at the thought that he might be alone forever if this doesn't go as planned. "Honey, don't be scared. This has been a long time coming. He feels the same."
"Wait.. you knew?" She couldn't, right?
She puts her hands on both of his shoulders and winks, "Mother's intuition." Mike exhales a small laugh. "Sweetie, I watched the two of you grow up together. Listen, I know it's scary, but true happiness is not an easy road to take, you have to take risks to get to where you want to be. It's scary because it matters to you."
Mike fiddles with the sleeves on his sweater and picks at a string that's coming loose. Knee bouncing under the table.
"I love you, Michael. And you know you can talk to me. About anything. I'm here for you, okay?"
"I know, mom. I love you too."
She ruffles his hair, now a shaggy cut, more loose than his previous style. His curls have come back in full force. A stark difference from his previous style. "I love the new haircut, by the way. This is much better on you. I'll be honest, you were kind of starting to look like your father a bit."
Nancy's mouth drops open and she shouts "See, I told you!"
Mike couldn't roll his eyes any harder if he tried.