Chapter Text
will
Will tapped his foot as he waited for his flight, looking up at the departures board of flights leaving New York.
IND Airport, Indiana state – 12:30 on time, it read. Hawkins. Home.
Will Byers was going home. For the first time in… well, it had only been a few months, since they’d all been together as summer drew to a close. But it had felt like a lifetime.
Will and Jonathan had gone travelling a little, the previous summer. They’d planned to go to all the biggest cities; the most exciting locations. It was supposed to be some kind of rite of passage, or at least that was the impression Will got of what his brother thought of it. Except after spending an intriguing few days in their first location: NYC, Will had quickly decided he had fallen in love with the bright new city. It only took a few weeks of planning and he had a flight booked and a small apartment waiting for him at the end of summer.
The friendly estate agent who’d gotten Will the flat had seemed very enthusiastic, through the phone. He’d told her he was interested in moving; he wasn’t used to city life (but he badly wanted to experience it), he was pretty socially awkward, he was into artsy type of culture, and she’d recommended him a place right away.
“Greenwich village sounds ‘bout right for you, love. Just off lower Manhattan, lotsa young folks there, student area and all that. Sure you’ll fit right in,”
And so it was settled, as August drew to a close and the group slowly started to say goodbyes and part ways, Will was headed to the big city, N-Y-C, more ready than ever to embark on his adventure and forwards to his Big New Life. Although of course, he wasn’t alone. Jonathan, who was learning media and film at the New York University, had been living in the city for a year already, and was extremely pleased to find out Will was moving so close.
“You’ll love it, Will,” he’d assured him when they caught the flight together. “There’s art galleries and bars and cafes, I'll come with you to your apartment ‘till you get settled but after we’ll have to meet up all the time!”
On Will’s first day in NYC, Jonathan kept his promise and came with him to find his apartment and settle in. It was small, only 450 square feet, but he could make it cozy. And as an artist, one of Will’s best talents was to make a home cozy.
On his second day, he decided to go exploring.
He hadn’t gotten far down his street when he’d come across a smallish, worn looking building painted a bright, happy blue. As he got closer, he noticed it was a cafe, and not nearly as worn-down as it had looked from a distance; in fact it was the opposite, it looked busy and vibrant. He decided to check it out, and as he walked through the door a small bell above the frame jangled to announce his entrance.
Inside, the cafe was cozy and colorful, with plants and posters covering the walls, and books and vinyls overflowing shelves. Will decided to take a seat at a small brown leather couch in the far corner.
It wasn’t long before a pretty, bubbly girl appeared in front of him.
“Hiya, handsome,” the waitress winked. She had long blonde hair and dozens of badges pinned on to her apron, next to her nametag, which read: Skye :) . Will grinned up at her.
***
After that, Will went to the Blue Cafe almost every day, and was always met with the same greeting from Skye. Skye was thoughtful, energetic, and a truly great friend to Will. The two of them quickly became close; they shared stories, jokes, and spent almost all of their time together. Will even started working with her, just a part-time job at the cafe which would hopefully fund him enough until he became a “best-selling, world-famous artist”, or so Skye insisted.
Will thought Skye was simply amazing. As they spent more and more time together, he wondered if he’d even be able to survive New York without her. She was the first non-Hawkins friend he’d ever made, and although she didn’t know him, it was just so easy to be comfortable with her, with her kind laugh and understanding eyes. She was kind and bubbly and confident, and she helped him to be confident. So much so, that one day about a month after they’d met, he plucked up the courage to ask her what her badges meant. More specifically, what the rainbow badge meant. Although… he thought he already had a pretty certain idea.
“Oh, it’s for pride, of course,” She’d answered, as though it was obvious. When Will looked at her blankly, she stiffened slightly, and looked back at him wearily. “You know, like gay pride. Don’t say you don’t support, because if that’s the case, you can–”
“No! No, I do, I just…” So it was what Will had thought, then. Queers. He hadn’t known people called it “pride”, though… or that people were so open about it, was that just a New York thing? There were so many things he hadn’t known about the city , about the world. But Skye seemed like an expert, she knew everything about anything Will asked. Including this. Did that mean… was Skye queer, too?
“I do support, of course I do, I…” Will took a breath. “Actually, I’m gay, too.” He wasn’t quite sure what had made him say it, Skye was just so confident, it made him feel confident, and he was so comfortable with her and she already seemed supportive… so. “And actually, I didn’t know what you meant when you said ‘pride’. Nobody called it that where I grew up… nobody talked about it much at all, really, and when they did it was all shitty homophobic crap… I was just surprised, that’s all,” He forced a laugh, fidgeting.
“Oh!” Skye said, looking somewhat confused. “ohh…” She laughed too, and the edge of tension Will felt melted away, he felt relieved as they continued conversation as normal.
As it turned out, Skye wasn’t gay, she just felt that it was important to show support with her badge. Kind, brave, Skye, Will thought, and couldn’t help but feel a surge of admiration for his new friend. Skye told him she was ‘straight’, and had a boyfriend, and her boyfriend had a brother who was gay. She didn’t mind Will being queer at all, and Will was extremely grateful to New York for being so big and modern, and having people like Skye in it. It was this revelation of Will’s, however, that led to Skye making what she proudly announced was her new MasterPlan: she was going to find Will a boyfriend. Or at least, she was going to introduce Will to Alex Taylor.
The Taylor brothers were obviously wealthy. They styled their hair, wore strange perfume, and strutted around Greenwich Village like they owned the place, which they possibly did. Oliver was older, in his final year of studying Linguistics at NYU, and Will privately thought that Oliver was performative and bigoted, even if he was a senior linguistics student.
Alex however, was nicer, if still a little affected. He joked and flashed his money around without a care in the world. He had wavy brown hair, a huge gold wristwatch, and he was an artist. It was an easy path for him; if he didn’t make enough money selling his art, there was always the Taylor family’s never ending supply. Besides, he didn’t care for university, or settling down in general; he spent the night wherever he wanted — which was rarely his own apartment, or the family manor — and spent his days between art galleries and social events. He was well liked, and seemed to have friends in all places.
And he was a good kisser.
They’d gotten along straight away — but the two of them were so different. Alex was flashy, and confident, and laughed too loud and drank too much — and Will was shy, honest. Will didn’t want to date someone just for the sake of dating them… but what if Alex was all that ever came along?
And it was true, Will liked Alex, it was impossible not to — but not like that.
They kept things casual. It was easy that way; Alex lived with Will in his apartment, in return he helped Will boost his art and they both lived on Will’s salary at the cafe and Alex’s bank account combined. They went out together and they stayed in together, and Will knew it was often that Alex saw other guys. They were friends before anything else; but then they were a couple when they needed to be there for each other. All in all it was pretty symbiotic — will knew that honestly, all they did was use each other as a substitute for something will wasn’t quite sure he’d ever find.
At first, Will enjoyed it. He couldn’t not, after all he’d never really gotten to experience things like that in a relationship. And part of him, the insecure, closeted teenager, craved for attention, for love. So he enjoyed himself — but it didn’t last. After he got a taste of what it was like, being in a relationship… he was sure that he just needed the right person. And that person just wasn’t Alex.
So Will added them to his list, the friends he’d made in NYC: Alex, Oliver, Skye. There were more, of course — the crowd was popular, it seemed, at NYU, and though Oliver and his linguistics friends seemed far too posh for the lot, Alex knew people who knew how to have some fun.
Charlotte Foster and Deenie Banks had been in a close trio with Alex growing up. They’d been to the same school, grown up in the same neighborhood, and were pretty much friends for life. The girls were both at NYU — Charlie, studying literature, and Deenie (to Will’s surprise) knew Jonathan through her visual arts course. The three of them were eighteen, the same year group as Will if they’d been at school together, and they had the most fun Will had had in years.
Another interesting thing about the group, as Will was finding out had many hidden quirks between them, was that Deenie and Charlie were a lesbian couple, only the second lesbian couple Will had ever met, and he wondered if even Robin, who seemed to know everything, knew this much about queer people. The city was certainly a change from tiny, old-fashioned Hawkins. Charlie and Deenie were inseparable; truly perfect for each other, and it made Will wonder if soulmates maybe did exist after all. He usually preferred not to believe in soulmates, he hated the idea that each person only got one true love, and it scared him that maybe he’d already lost his own before the age of twenty. But Deenie and Charlie were so in love it was hard not to love them for it. The two girls loved everything about the other; from the way Deenie’s mouth hung open in concentration as she applied mascara and kohl liner every morning, to the way Charlie’s frizzy hair always moulded into waves after she braided it wet, since she was too lazy to wait for it to dry properly. Will silently wished someday, someone would love him like that.
Overall, Deenie, Charlie, Skye, Alex, and Oliver made excellent company. They spent nights together at parties, days at the Blue Cafe, or Will’s apartment, and Will spent every minute laughing. They could talk for hours — about anything and everything. Deenie would rant about politics while Sky and Charlie discussed their current celebrity crushes, and Oliver would try to make them listen to whatever ted talk he was planning while Alex would just yawn and scoff at them all. Will fell into this comfortable routine of banter and felt like he’d been friends with them all his life. But they were also good listeners — and they’d spend hours listening to Will’s stories. They took all of it in, endlessly invested in whatever Will had to say, and Will almost didn’t know what to do with all the attention. But of course, he always gave in — and it was great to talk about his life, to people who were actually interested. He told them about Hawkins — though not everything about Hawkins — about school, his interests, his friends, Mike — though he still couldn’t quite bring himself to tell them everything about Mike.
And in NYC, it was impossible for Will to ever stop learning. The first few weeks, his new friends had laughed about his cluelessness, made fun of the small town he’d grown up knowing and giggling at his lack of basic knowledge. It was all very funny — but when they actually explained, Will found himself in a state of awe and wonder. They taught him about NYU, about Greenwich Village, about “LGBT” and politics, and possibly the most important thing they taught Will about — was David Bowie.
Will knew Bowie, of course — even a small, rural town like Hawkins couldn’t excuse for that amount of ignorance — but when his friends talked about him, they made him seem magic. Deenie might’ve been the biggest fan out of the group — she was the type of girl to know everything about everything when it came to pop culture, and she was a fun-loving alien character at heart, but the others poured over everything Bowie, too.
“I can’t believe you don’t even have a favorite album, Will,” She’d told him in exasperation about a million times. “If you’re going to be in with our group you have to learn the mat-er-ial!” She’d chant like she was leading a lecture. The group seemed to spend a lot of time making sure Will knew all about Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane, and a detailed history of pretty much everything Bowie. Apparently, he was going on tour next year — they all seemed very eager to go, and eventually Will found himself looking forward to it.
Will was happy. He was… satisfied. Content.
But he couldn’t escape his past.
He would still see her sometimes, in dreams, or through blurry teared-up eyes in moments of particular despair. He’d remember her comforting smile, ever eager to please. He’d remember her soft brown hair, which she’d been so happy to be able to grow out into hazelnut waves. He’d remember her intense gaze, the way she’d talk, slowly, perceptively, seeing the truth when no one else could. He’d remember the way she’d learnt to do makeup in California, the way Joyce had taught her, and the way she’d been so excited to fit in with all the other girls who wore makeup and had friends and wanted to be just like them and wanted to go rollerskating and curl her hair and do eyeliner and how she’d begged Will to let her practice eyeliner on him so she could get it just right and how he’d grudgingly agreed but secretly liked it because that must be how girls felt and it was cool but he hated himself for being so weird but loved her for loving him anyway even if she didn’t know the full story and never could because she was his only sister but he still couldn’t tell her, couldn’t tell anyone…
It was a difficult thing, to lose a sister. Especially when she’d had to leave just when they’d gotten so close, when their time being real siblings had been cut so short.
It was disturbing.
In hindsight, Will knew that California had been a bad time for him. He was a teenager, his life was messy and confusing, and at the time he’d wished more than anything he could just move back to Hawkins and blank out that section of his life entirely. But at least there was some sense of normality, even if he hated it, to cling to. And if he’d been able to choose between fighting the monster who’d possessed him and made him into his prodigal son or being bullied and having a stupid crush, he would choose the latter. Because he missed El most of all.
He knew he was sugarcoating his time with her, a little, but it was comforting to remember her this way. Even in the times when his young, dumb, fourteen year old self had cried and hid and hated himself, El was something separate. Something nice. He wouldn’t have traded that version of her for anything, if he could help it, but nothing lasts, he knew the deal. He should've seen it coming, how the world would rip her away and lock her up somewhere she couldn’t be reached, forbid her from ever escaping her past and forcing it to seem like fighting was all she’d ever be destined for. El was kindness and butterflies that landed on your nose if you stayed still and soft smiles, she was purple and candy and flowers that grew in springtime, that was the girl she was meant to be, but she was always pulled away, and Will hated the world for what it’d done to her. Who it had forced her to be.
El wasn’t the only one Will missed, of course. He had pretty much… hated all of senior year, all of high school maybe. He’d been grateful to leave Hawkins at the end of it all, because even a place that was slowly repairing was a difficult place to be in. The difficult, quiet truth Will knew was that it wasn’t the people that he missed. It wasn’t the town that he looked back on fondly. It was what could’ve been, the dream that was meant to be a reality. Will knew that he mourned the life that never was.
When Will was little everything was simple, he had his mom, Jonathan, and Mike. He didn’t understand the real world and he didn’t need to. He was going to draw forever and make up stories about wizards and superheroes and he was going to live with Jon and Joyce and he’d never see his mean father again. Maybe he’d have kids of his own one day; that was too far away to think about anyway. If he did have kids, he would never ever get married. And even if he did, it wouldn’t be to someone scary, like his own father, it would be someone kind and nice and brave who he would spend the rest of his life with, and they’d go on adventures together and be in love (real love, not like will’s parents), maybe he would get married to Mike so the two of them could make comics, Mike was nice…
That fantasy had existed, to a degree, up for a very long time. Will wasn’t stupid, by the time he was eleven or twelve he knew most of that never could happen, but he’d still been hopeful enough to think that things would stay that blissful childish way they’d always been between his friends. His world was changing, as he got older — but if Will was never going to fall in love, he’d hoped at least Mike wouldn’t either. He didn’t want to grow up.
But of course, Will did grow up. He missed the fantasy. No matter how much he was looking forward to seeing his friends again, how much fun he knew it would be, there would always be that quiet longing for something different. Something more.
Something he couldn’t afford to lose again, to what was the point in even hoping?
It was times like these when will had to remind himself of something he’d been told long ago:
You know, she was so carefree and, like, fearless. She just loved every part of herself. And that’s when it hit me. It was never about Tone-deaf Tammy. It was always just about me. I was looking for answers in somebody else, but… I had all the answers.
I was looking for answers in somebody else…
but I had all the answers…
He’d marked that day as a sort of milestone, in his mind, it was easy enough to say: that was the day I could finally love myself. That was the day that I didn’t depend on him, anymore, that I could find someone real, who really loved me, and I didn’t need the fantasy anymore.
Will had stuck to his word. What else was there to do? He didn’t need Mike, not if he was just his Tammy, he could learn to live without depending on someone else’s love.
So as Will stepped onto the plane, jittery and excited, as he reached up to shove his suitcase into the overhead storage, as he sat down in the window seat and nodded and smiled at the elderly woman in the seat next to him (“Going home for Christmas, honey? Well enjoy yourself, twenties don’t last forever,”), and as he tried to ignore the ball of nerves and excitement buzzing around in his stomach, he tried not to get his hopes up too much. He really did try.
But sometimes, as it turns out, simply trying to resist a feeling just isn’t strong enough.