Chapter Text
May 27th, 1989
The sound of knives and forks scraping and clattering against plates echoed throughout the quiet room, only supported by the steady noise of Mike's mom pottering in the kitchen next door. Emotions were still high after coming up from the basement, hanging in the air as they ate in unusual silence.
Talking about Eleven on their graduation day probably hadn’t helped. Mike knew that he’d dampened the mood by reminding them that there was one missing from their party, even though his intention had been to give them all hope. But it seemed to be a habit of Mike’s, meaning to do one thing and then doing the exact opposite.
"Honey, you need to eat," his mom chided him when she saw him picking at his food, breaking the silence in the room as she cleared the plates left by Holly and her friends. "I’m not encouraging underaged drinking, but if you’re going to that graduation party then you need to line your stomach."
Mike rolled his eyes. The last thing he wanted to do after the emotions of the evening was go to that party full of mouth-breathers. "Mom, we’re not – "
"We have to go!"
Mike whipped his head around, surprised by the eagerness of the voice beside him. And there was Will. He looked…excited? Eyes wide and pleading for Mike to agree.
"I told Jenny from art class that I’d be there," Will explained when he was met with Mike’s face filled with confusion. "I obviously wanted to do your campaign! But we’re finished now, and it’s only nine o’clock and… I mean, it could be fun!"
Jenny. From art class. That didn’t sound like a boy. There couldn’t be any romantic motivation, so why would Will be bothered about meeting Jenny from art class? Why was he prioritizing Jenny from art class over Mike? And the party?
But clearly nobody else had those concerns, as a chorus of agreement came from Dustin, Max, and Lucas. They all spoke over each other, but the message was clear. They also wanted to go.
"Come on Wheeler. Don’t be such a party pooper," Max said loudly. And then they were all looking at him.
"You can’t be serious. You actually wanna go?" But Mike’s lack of enthusiasm was only met with eager nods and spoonfuls of food being shoved into their faces. An action which Mike had to begrudgingly copy when he realized that they weren’t going to take no for an answer.
After a fix of appearances, a lot of hairspray and an hour, they were stood in the doorway of the crowded house of Stacey Albright. Music blared, tinny and too loud. The stench of beer and sweat flooded Mike’s senses. People he loathed flitted in front of them being their usual insufferable selves, though Mike could only hear a millisecond of each of their conversations.
He turned to his left to complain, only to be met by the sight of Will in complete excitement and awe. His head was moving side to side, mouth spread wide in a grin. Mike couldn’t understand what there was to gawk at. These were the same people that had ridiculed and bullied them for years. What kind of rose-tinted glasses was he wearing?
"Will!"
Mike didn’t know where the voice was coming from until he was knocked sideways from the sheer force of Will crashing into him, some puny little girl manhandling him.
"Jenny, hey!" Will responded, his voice muffled through her hair.
She clearly had a crush on him. It was obvious, she was like the least subtle person ever. The way that she had her hands all over him and buried herself into his neck.
Not that Mike could blame her, Will was a good-looking guy, a really good-looking guy, so obviously people were going to have crushes on him. But it was bothering Mike because it wasn’t like she even stood a chance. She was throwing herself at a guy who wasn’t even into girls, and he just wanted to rip her off him to save her from further embarrassment.
"Thank God you’re here," Jenny said, breathing out a sigh of relief. "Nobody else is here yet so I’ve been all on my own!"
"I’m so sorry, we got held up!" Will exclaimed, apologetically gesturing towards Mike and the rest of the party. "Oh yeah! Jenny, this is Mike, Lucas, and Max."
Mike looked around, confused at the lack of Dustin’s name in the introduction. Where was he?
Then, almost as if he could read his mind, Will answered his question. "I think Dustin just got swept away by Stacey, you’ll have to meet him later."
Did he? How did Mike miss that? He would have remembered if one of his best friends had been whisked away by one of the most popular girls in the year.
"Nice to meet you all," Jenny said with a fake smile. "Will, come on, I have to show you the most ridiculous painting that they’ve got hung up in their living room!"
Will was practically giggling when he left, not even sparing a glance back. But Mike’s eyes followed, watching as he was dragged into the mass of bodies and erased by the crowd.
"Mike? You coming?" Lucas’ voice broke him from his staring. Mike looked at him in confusion, not hearing a word that was uttered before his name, causing Lucas to roll his eyes. "To get a drink?"
That was the best idea that he had heard all night. "Oh! Fuck yeah."
The drinks table looked like a crime scene when they got there. Red liquid spilled everywhere, cups and bottles thrown across as if someone had been slammed on top of it. But Mike didn’t care, he really needed this right now. The punch bowl looked like it had been split in two from how the alcohol had separated from the juice, so he took the opportunity and made sure to dig his cup right in the pale top where he could find a concentrated volume of the vodka or gin or whatever spirit it was.
When he swallowed the liquid, the unfamiliar burn tingled through his throat, granting him both relief and regret.
"Whoa! Wheeler off the wagon!" Max exclaimed as she watched him cough a little in discomfort, hints of teasing and pride in her voice. He wasn’t one to drink normally, he was usually the one to drive everyone home, but something inside him said that tonight was a night to get absolutely shit-faced.
"Yes! Come on, dude!" Lucas added in glee with an aggressive pat on the back that almost made Mike cough up the drink that he’d just swallowed. But it wouldn’t matter anyway as another cup was being passed his way. One second glance was all it took for him to lift the drink to his lips again.
Each cup disappeared quicker than the last. The flavor and the burning sensation disintegrating with each mouthful. Voices blurred, mouths moved, and conversation slipped past without ever quite pulling him in. It seemed that at some point in the last couple of years, his friends had actually made other friends outside the party. He wasn’t sure when that had happened or where he’d been, but it left him standing on the outside, just drinking and observing. He nodded when it felt right, laughed when everyone else did, and let his mind wander whenever the discussion didn’t require him, which seemed to be often.
Will would talk to him if he were here. That thought made a hot sting of annoyance burn through his chest. Where was Will? Why was Mike stuck third wheeling Lucas and Max as they became increasingly more handsy? Nobody else seemed to care that he was missing, but Mike thought the absence was louder than the music.
It just… bothered him. Somewhere else in the house, Will was laughing and having fun. Mike was miserable, El was gone, and Will was laughing. Well, he didn’t actually know that, but he assumed. Will was funny, so if he wasn’t laughing, Mike was sure as hell that everyone else would be. And Mike wanted to laugh. He hadn’t laughed much since El had left, but it felt unfair that somebody else was laughing when he wasn’t. Especially Jenny from art class.
Fuck that.
He was just going to have to find Will. Make sure he hadn’t fallen down a staircase or joined a cult in the next room. That’s what a good friend would do. A best friend.
He finished his drink and forced his brain to rejoin the room and then he realized, Max and Lucas were kissing? Not about to kiss, full-blown making out. He stood there, blinking, trying to work out how long that had been going on and how he’d managed to miss it while standing directly next to them. Long enough to be concerning, apparently.
"I’m – I’m gonna go pee," he said, pointing vaguely toward the hallway but neither of them reacted.
He turned to leave and immediately learned something new. Stacey Albright’s house was slanted. It must be, the floor felt like one of those funhouses, all wonky and sloped to purposely make you fall over. In fact, Mike was doing a pretty good job of staying upright, given the circumstances. By the time he reached the kitchen, he’d reached a rhythm in walking. The house was big, so it gave plenty of space to practice, and the crowd of people gave him something to bump against and keep him upright.
Each room offered the same result. More people, more noise, no Will. Maybe something had happened to him. Maybe Vecna had come back. Maybe Will would have to use his powers again and… well, that part wouldn’t be too bad.
But then there he was. Will! It must have been the third living room he’d checked. Why they had so many living rooms, he’d never know, but this one had Will in it so that made it the best one. And Mike was right, he was laughing, as was everyone around him.
He could only stand in the doorway, observing. Will was stood there with his head back in a laugh, wearing the smile that Mike usually loved when he was the one responsible for it, but now it just felt mocking. Who even were these people that he was with? Mike didn’t recognize one person, yet Will looked so comfortable around them. Completely at ease, in a way that he had only seen him within their party.
"Mike!"
It took him a second to recognize his own name, even though he was staring at the person who said it. Will was looking right at him, face lit up with unmistakable excitement. There was a smile vibrant on his face.
All that irritation, all that careful annoyance that he’d been nursing, faltered at the sight of it. His friend looked genuinely pleased to see him. He was even gesturing for Mike to go over there, a request that he obeyed once his brain had caught up. Then suddenly, he was in front of Will, though he didn’t remember his legs carrying him there.
"Hey! I was gonna come find you guys!" Will said enthusiastically. But you didn’t, Mike thought. "Oh, Mike, these are my friends from art class. Jenny, Sarah, Ben and Amy."
They were all smiling politely at him, some giving a small wave. You could tell that they took art. Colorful clothes that didn’t match at all, hair messy but obvious that it had been deliberately fussed with in front of a mirror for an hour.
"Mike?" Will said again, this time in confusion and with a concerned look on his face as Mike just stood there silently.
"Yeah! Oh sorry, yeah! Hi. Sorry."
Mike didn’t know if that came across as not enthusiastic enough, or maybe too enthusiastic. Definitely like a big bumbling idiot, that was for sure. He wasn’t even certain that he actually said anything at all until Will continued with the same cautious tone.
"Are you okay…? Have you been drinking?"
Was he okay? No was the honest answer. His best friend had completely ditched him, traded him in for these bargain-bin art kid models. He probably didn’t even want Mike there, cramping his style.
"Lucas and Max told me to find you!" Mike lied quickly. Or was it a lie? He couldn’t even remember the reason he was there anymore, but he’d already said it now, so he’d just have to go with it. "They were worried about you. Thought you’d… joined a cult."
Jenny obnoxiously snorted in amusement. "Are we the cult? Who’s our cult leader? Mr. Keaton?" Everyone erupted in laughter, though Mike wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t even a creative joke, your art teacher being your cult leader when you’re all art students. How funny.
"I think he’d be a good cult leader," Will added, lifting his drink to his lips. He looked so nonchalant and…cool. Mike watched his lips wrap around the rim of the cup, watched his throat bob as the liquid travelled down. He could make anything look good, it was unfair really.
Jenny laughed. "Oh please, you just think he’s hot."
Mike’s eyes widened in shock. The words hovered there, loose and wrong, like they had been misplaced or misunderstood. You just think he’s hot. He ran it back in his head, slower this time, listening for a different meaning that wasn’t there.
But the rest of the group were unbothered. No one corrected her. No one looked surprised. No one paused. Will was even laughing, bumping his shoulder with hers and replying, "hey, sue me. It’s the hair."
That was when it clicked. She knew. They all did. They knew that Will didn’t like girls.
But how did they know? Did Will tell them?
Mike could only stand there, not even bothering to nod along to the conversation as something in his head began to boil over. These people knew. These four, who Mike had never heard of before today, had been trusted with this information.
It had taken Will years to tell Mike. It had taken fucking Vecna to threaten the information out of him for Christ’s sake. And Mike had never minded that it took Will so long to tell them because he knew how hard it must have been for him, and he was proud of him for having the courage. But apparently it was just the party that Will was terrified to tell because he was offering the information up like it was common knowledge to the entire fucking art department.
So, Will obviously liked them better. And that thought was too much.
The unfairness of it all swelled in his chest. He built it into something enormous, airtight, irrefutable. Everything was wrong. The house was wrong. The night was wrong. Will was laughing with his better friends, and the room suddenly became too small.
The air grew thick and warm, voices overlapped, laughter burst too close to his ear, the music pressing in from all sides. His thoughts tangled with it, spinning faster and faster, tripping over themselves as they went.
And then the irritation and outrage drained out of him in one unpleasant rush, replaced by a slow, rolling sickness that made his mouth flood and his throat tighten. He swallowed hard, but that just made things worse.
"Mike? Are you okay?" Will asked in growing concern. Mike couldn’t answer yet, as he was sure something much more unpleasant would come out if he did. But he thought he must have managed to shake his head because Will was coming closer. "What’s wrong?"
The hand that Will placed on his shoulder tipped it from bad to unbearable.
"I’m gonna be sick."
Mike briefly caught Will’s eyes widening before he spun around at lightning speed, trying to navigate his way out of the house. Luckily, the third living room was very close to the door.
He didn’t know how he had done it, but he’d thrown himself out of the house with such force that he had managed to fall to the side of the porch steps and behind the gap between the bushes and the house. It did, however, put him in the perfect position where he was on his hands and knees with shrubbery nearby and privacy to get rid of his stomach’s contents.
When he thought it was over, it happened again, miserable and loud. Though not loud enough to drown out the sound of footsteps crunching on gravel as he felt a body crouch down beside him.
A hand came to his back. "Hey, it’s okay," he heard Will’s voice say calmly, rubbing slow circles between his shoulders. "You’re okay, Mike."
He stayed there on his hands and knees, breathing hard, eyes watering and extremely grateful that Will couldn’t see his pathetic face. The hand on his back soothed him, calming him down until he felt he had the strength to pick his hand up off the floor and use it to wipe away the tears.
Clumsily, he pushed himself back and maneuvered so that his back was against the wall and he was sat down. Will’s hand never broke contact, but he moved it to his shoulder while Mike slowed his breathing down, head in his hands and groaning in extreme shame.
"Better?" Will asked kindly.
He was, actually. A little bit, anyway. So he nodded, head still in his hands.
"Do you think you’ll be okay for a minute while I go get you some water?" Will gently questioned and Mike nodded, his hands moving with his head.
This was a new low. He had literally never felt this pathetic in his life. It had been a pretty shitty five years, and this just felt like the tipping point. A year and a half without El, the party breaking up before his eyes, Will preferring his other friends to Mike. Things were supposed to get better after Vecna, and it seemed like it had for everybody else but him.
"Hey, here you go," Will’s voice interrupted his spiraling, causing him to look up quickly. Without his hands covering his face, he realized his cheeks were wet from tears. Great, even more pathetic. But Will had come back with a red cup which he gratefully accepted.
Water had never tasted so good in his life. It was cold and sharp. He felt it in his ears for some reason, then all through his face and then sliding down his throat like it was magic.
"Shit, that’s good," Mike gasped out as he finished the cup. Will let out a little chuckle beside him and then held his hand out to offer a little packet of something.
"Thought you might need these too." They were mints. He definitely needed those. Mike took them eagerly and popped three in his mouth at once.
Tilting his head up with a lazy smile, he looked at his friend. "You’re just the best."
Will rolled his eyes but chuckled slightly and shook his head, which showed he took the compliment. And good, because Mike meant it. Then Will held out his hand. "Come on, we’re getting you home. I’ve already told Max and Lucas."
Mike didn’t even have the energy to argue. His body was fairly floppy when Will pulled, but he was quite a gangly guy so without full control of his limbs, who knew where they were going to go. When he was stood, he found the answer to that was straight into Will, who had to put his arm around Mike to steady him.
"Whoa, hey there! Come on," Will grunted as he used his strength to prop Mike up. He adjusted so that one of his arms was around Mike’s waist, Mike’s arm was around his shoulder, and Will’s other hand was on Mike’s stomach to keep him from falling forward. The height difference proved to be quite the advantage in this.
Then they set off slowly, every few steps resulting in a wobble which made them both adjust their hold, sometimes pulling a little closer to distribute the weight differently. But eventually it got easier and they fell into a rhythm of walking.
Hawkins was like a ghost town, but not in the eerie way that would have brought panic to them just years before. It was now a peaceful quiet. A boring quiet. One that made it feel like everything they had gone through was just a dream.
"Reckon you can stand on your own yet?" Will asked after about five minutes of walking and comfortable silence.
Mike thought that he probably could. He was finally starting to feel his limbs again anyway, which meant he probably had use of them. But there was something about the warmth that was pressing against his side that stopped the words from coming from his mouth.
Will’s arms wrapped around and underneath him felt almost like a warm hug, and it wasn’t often that he had the chance to hug Will anymore, or be close to him at all, really. Not since Will had pulled away. They were still friends, best friends, but it wasn’t the same as it once had been. They used to be more comfortable around each other. So comfortable that they’d just lie on top of each other when they watched a movie, or played a video game, or just generally hung out. But now Will would make a point to sit on the other side of the couch on the rare occasion that it was just the two of them.
Mike wasn’t sure why that was. Maybe it was just because they didn’t live together anymore. Maybe Mike had done something to make him uncomfortable. Maybe he just didn’t want to anymore. But he'd missed it.
So he lied.
"Not quite yet."
Another silence fell over them, just as comfortable as the last, as they clumsily walked through the sleeping town. Each house that they passed with their lights off and curtains drawn made him long for his bed. It was calling to him, but he felt in that moment like the Abyss would have been a shorter journey than the one to his house. "God, walking is so much effort."
"Effort for you?" Will scoffed out in disbelief. "I’m holding you up!"
Oh yeah. He'd forgotten about that. Will had begun to feel almost like a crutch. Like a part of him.
"Ugh, fine," Mike whined, pulling his arm from the smaller boy’s shoulders. Will almost sighed in relief at the loss of weight that was on top of him, but the parting only caused problems for Mike, who was unbalanced once again. He was at least doing a better job of steadying himself this time, though he was sure from the outside that it probably looked like he was attempting to find his footing on a tightrope. And in that spirit, when he was steady, he held his hands out to show off his balance to Will, who smiled like he was humoring a toddler.
"Impressive."
Mike grinned at this.
"Mike one, alcohol zero."
A scoff escaped Will’s lips. "I think you can call it a draw at best."
"Hey! You were drinking too! How come you're not throwing up?"
Will looked up with mock annoyance. "Not all of us were drinking absolutely anything and everything on the drinks table, Mike."
Mike let out an indignant noise in protest. “I wasn’t!”
“That’s not what Max and Lucas told me…”
They were such fucking snitches. But he supposed the fact that he was vomiting into Stacey’s bushes probably gave him away anyway.
"Well, sorry we aren’t all as sophisticated as you art students,” Mike teased in an attempt to take the heat off himself. “What were you drinking? Wine?”
Silence followed. Will was fighting a smile, but Mike didn’t even want to stop his lips from curling upward.
"You were, weren’t you?" The smile that Will was fighting broke through, but he rolled his eyes to counteract it. Mike didn’t know what came over him, probably the alcohol, but as he laughed loudly in delight, he practically jumped on top of him as one arm reached around his neck to pull Will’s head to his chest playfully. “Ha! Knew it! I know you, Will Byers!”
"Get off me!” Will laughed in protest as he tried his best to wriggle out of Mike’s grip. He pushed against his chest but it just made Mike hold him tighter, until Will ducked down instead and managed to break himself free. He ran his hands through his hair to try and fix it which made Mike grin. “Great, now my hair’s a mess.”
He didn’t actually look bothered, so Mike didn’t feel the need to apologize. “So? Who you trying to impress? It’s only me.”
Will laughed lightly, though Mike was sure he could see his smile falter as he turned to face forward.
They fell into step, close enough to brush shoulders. But Mike’s mind couldn’t help but feel a sudden wave of guilt. One that he had to blurt out before he spared a second thought. "Hey, I’m sorry I made you leave the party. I know you were having fun."
Will looked confused. "You didn’t make me do anything. I chose to leave with you."
"Yeah, only because I’m a mess."
"Well, that’s nothing new," Will shot back with a teasing smile. Mike faked a look of hurt, which he quickly traded for a laugh as he shoved Will’s shoulder playfully so that he staggered sideways a few steps.
Their chuckles faded out slowly but their smiles remained as they walked. Though Mike felt his fade as he noticed a street sign saying Mill Road. That was still so far from his house. Like a five-minute walk away.
No, he would have to stop. With a dramatic sigh, he lowered himself to the ground to sit down and then stuck his legs out so that he could place his back on the floor. Will only noticed after a few steps, but he must have felt the absence of Mike beside him as he turned around and let his eyes trail to the floor in concern.
"Mike? Are you o –"
"Yep, I’m fine. This was on purpose."
Mike couldn’t see Will’s face, his focus being on the night sky, but from the brief few seconds silence, he could imagine Will’s puzzled face.
"And why are you just lying on the floor in the middle of the street on purpose?"
"Because I want to," Mike replied simply, leaving no room for argument. He twisted his neck so that he could see Will, then lifted his arm slightly in the air and dramatically lowered it to the ground as a gesture. "Come join me."
Will cocked a brow. "I’m wearing white."
"Exactly, a blank canvas. Thought you were supposed to be the artist."
But Will still wasn’t sold. "We’ll get ran over."
"There are no cars!" Mike convinced. "Come on, nothing bad ever happens in Hawkins."
The poor attempt at a joke clearly worked, as Will flicked his eyes up, smiled and moved towards his horizontal figure on the ground to join him.
Mike watched as his head appeared next to him, feeling a sense of victory. "Happy?" Will asked in fake annoyance.
"Very."
They both let their eyes drift up to the sky. Mike tried to focus on the stars, which seemed to drift in and out like they were deciding whether to stay put. They looked as fuzzy as his brain felt.
It was making him even dizzier, so he had no choice but to turn his head to look at Will instead. That helped a lot, made him feel more grounded. It was comforting, looking at Will, it always had been. That hadn’t changed even though so much of Will had. It worked like some kind of hypnotherapy, calming him down as he let his eyes trail over the familiar features.
“Why are you staring at me,” Will said into the silence, though he didn’t turn his head. He kept his eyes to the stars.
“I was dizzy. Need something to focus on”
Will didn’t say anything else, but he also didn’t tell him to stop, so Mike saw no reason to.
He didn’t often look at Will from this angle, so it was like fresh territory. His side profile was pretty perfect, annoyingly so. Like he’d been chiseled by a sculptor or something. Mike had the sudden urge to lift his hand up and touch it. Let his fingers trace the shape. The sharp angle of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips, the familiar slope of his nose. He wasn’t quite sure what was holding him back, really.
“You’re putting me on edge, Mike,” Will complained before he had the chance to act on his thoughts. “Can you not focus on like a tree or something?”
“Sorry,” he mumbled. But he didn’t want to look away, he wanted to keep looking. So he decided to just say something so he had an excuse to. The first thing that popped into his head. "I didn’t know you’d came out to more people."
"Oh, the art friends?" Will asked, and Mike nodded his head. "Yeah. Well no. I didn’t really. They could just sort of…tell."
Mike’s brows furrowed. "They guessed? How?"
He knew that people had made comments over the years about Will being gay, mostly negative of course, but that didn’t mean anything. Everyone called Mike those things too and it didn’t mean it was actually true. It wasn’t fair to just assume that about someone.
"Well, it probably helped that some of them are like me. Like Jenny and Sarah…"
Mike lifted his body slightly in shock. "They’re together?” he shouted. Will confirmed with a nod and an amused smirk and Mike lowered himself back to the ground as the news sunk in. "And there’s me thinking she liked you! I really am terrible at picking up on these things."
Will mumbled something under his breath that Mike couldn’t quite make out, so he just ignored it, not having the energy to work it out.
“Okay, well I like her again now."
"What? Why didn’t you like her before? You barely spent two minutes with her!" Will laughed.
"I don’t know, she just seemed…clingy. Like too full-on."
"Oh my god, Mike, you’re so judgy. She’s actually really nice if you get to know her." Will shook his head as he laughed. Mike smiled but stayed silent, watching Will until he turned to face him. “It’s nice having friends like her, and Robin, you know? Being around other people like me.”
Like him. Mike didn’t know why that sent a wave of discomfort through him. The thought that there were people out there that Will thought would understand him more than he did. He hated the idea. But he supposed he couldn’t argue against it. Mike wasn’t like him in that way, he couldn’t relate. He’d had a girlfriend, he was straight. Will wasn’t. That was just the way that it was.
“Yeah…” was all Mike could think to respond with.
"Jonathan says it’s better in New York,” Will continued despite Mike’s quiet response. “Nobody really cares as much. I’ll be able to…you know, meet new people. More people like me.”
Mike felt like the air was getting drawn out of his lungs at the thought. Will meeting new people that understood him more. And he hated how much he despised the thought, he should want that for him, but it didn’t stop tears from springing into his eyes. It didn’t stop him from forcing himself to look away to hide how ridiculous he was being.
“Mike…are you okay?” Will asked him. Apparently, he wasn’t doing a very good job at hiding it. “Are you crying?”
He wiped his eyes quickly. “No, I – well yes. But just ignore me. I’m drunk.” And then he just felt even more guilty, like he needed to explain himself. “I’m sorry, I do want that for you. I’m just being stupid. I guess…I just don’t want you to forget about me.”
Will narrowed his eyes as an entertained smile appeared on his face. “Mike…did you forget that you’re coming with me to New York?”
Now that just made him sound even more stupid. “Ugh, I know, I know. I told you I’m being stupid. I just…I feel like everyone is moving on. You know, like the other three are going to different colleges, and you’re gonna be off being all cool and popular and everyone’s gonna love you. And I’m… I’m still gonna be here.”
“But…you won’t be. You’ll be in New York?”
Mike groaned, not even knowing what he was trying to say. “Yeah, but I still feel like I’ll be here even when I’m there. Like I can’t move on. Like I shouldn’t.”
Will seemed to nod like he understood, which was crazy because that was far from how Mike felt. “Do you think it’s because if El?”
Mike considered his question for a moment, thinking it probably made sense. What else would be holding him back, really?
“Maybe…” he nodded. And Mike knew what he was going to say. The same thing that everybody said, that Eleven would want him to go and be happy and live his life and all that crap. But it never made him think that he actually deserved all of that. It never made him want to do it.
So before Will had the chance to, Mike spoke again quickly. “I really hope that I’m right, you know. That El’s out there and she’s free and happy. But what if she’s not? Why should I get to have that if she doesn’t?”
Will nodded. “I get that, I feel the same sometimes,” he said softly, causing Mike to turn to him in surprise. “Me and El have been connected since we met. To each other, to the Upside Down, to Vecna. We both went through hell, and I hate the fact that I made it out and she didn’t. I don’t wanna move on and go to New York without her. But if I don’t, if I just stay here, it just feels like a waste, everything she did.”
It looked like Will was swallowing back tears, and Mike immediately felt guilty again. He was such an idiot, of course Will felt that way too. Eleven was his literal sister, and there Mike was, acting as if he was the only person in the world that was allowed to miss her.
Mike dropped his head back on the road. "I'm sorry. I'm such an asshole, just thinking about myself."
"You're not an asshole. I just don’t want you to think you're alone in this," Will said, and Mike turned his head to see a sad smile on his face. Not one of pity, one of understanding. "We'll have each other. And we'll have El, she'll be with us. And yeah, maybe I'll make some new friends, but that doesn’t have to change anything between us. You'll always have me."
A faint fluttering feeling burst through Mike's chest. It felt happy, filled with relief, and it made him smile. "Yeah, you'll always have me too."
They just looked at each other for a moment. Smiles on their faces, remnants of tears still in their eyes. Mike wished they could just stay like this forever. Just the two of them, no new friends. Just Mike and Will, how it was supposed to be.
But then Will broke the moment with a cough, his eyes darting away as he sat up, looking back at Mike. "Ready to get up now?"
Reluctantly, Mike nodded, and Will pushed himself off the ground to hold a hand out for the taller boy to take. Both on their feet, they smiled at each other, and Mike felt an overwhelming sort of… well he didn’t know quite what it was. He just knew he had to tell him.
"Hey Will, I really love you, you know?"
Will visibly inhaled, his eyebrows raising. "You–" but then he stopped himself. He looked puzzled, unsure, but Mike didn't know why. Surely he already knew that.
So Mike had the sudden urge to show him. He lurched forward and wrapped his arms around Will, pulling him into a hug. He felt the warmth of Will’s body pressed against him, strands of hair brush his face, hesitant arms loosely reaching around him.
"You’re like my favorite person," Mike said next to his ear. "My best friend."
Will let out a breath against him, and Mike was sure he felt his body slump slightly. But as he pulled away, he was smiling and nodding, so Mike tried not to think too deeply into it. Maybe that meant he understood. Mike hoped he did.
He patted Mike on the back. "Come on, let’s get you home."
And that was about as much as Mike remembered about the night.