Work Text:
They have managed to go an entire morning without anything eventful happening. Will would almost be thankful if it weren’t for the fact that he knows that this sort of thing moves like a hurricane. The good never stays that way for long. The worst is never over. Right now, they’re merely in the eye, idly waiting for the wind and rain to pick up again, to crash into the house, knocking them off of their feet.
They sit in Mike’s basement, talking and sharing stories. For once, no one has anything better to do than to stay put and hang tight. The rest of their party members are doing important tasks in the Upside Down that they’d all be useless for, and everyone in the room is far too tense and frightened to wander off alone. Being alone, for them, has only led to bad things. In situations like this, like theirs, together is always better.
Will is perched on the armrest of the couch, watching as Lucas and Mike argue over some trivial D&D lore fact. A smile rests on his face, happy to be hit with a sense of normalcy after the past few days. In less than a week he has kidnapped an entire family, come to terms with his sexuality, unlocked sick-ass telekinetic powers, and killed multiple demogorgons. The idea fills Will with a giddy sort of buzz.
Will doesn’t want more bad things to happen, but the rush of using his powers had been so unlike anything he’s ever felt. He doesn’t want to take the force of his powers lightly, scared of what he has yet to learn about them, so he hasn’t tried them since they left the MAC-Z. The days he lets himself explore them will come when everything is said and done. When Vecna is gone and the Upside Down poses no threat to them. If Will’s powers will even still be there. Will forces himself to quit thinking so deeply, forces himself to just watch his friends having fun. Worry serves no purpose in times like these.
Then, there in the peaceful ruckus of the Wheeler’s basement, everything comes to a head. Shivers ring around his neck, and he knows this is the end of their uninvolved bliss. One moment, Will is looking panicked at Mike, the next, it’s as if he is watching something on a movie screen. It’s no longer demo-vision, as they’ve coined it, it’s something else. Will is frozen as he watches something move toward the house, toward where all of them are. He can feel that it’s sinister, can feel that it will only serve to hurt them. Will breaks out of the vision then, as if someone had shut a door to it right in front of his face. He takes a step back, gathering himself before he decides what to say.
Will takes in his surroundings and sees Mike staring at him with worry, now only one step away from him. Everyone else watches from further away, but no one makes a move at him. Will meets Mike’s eyes, and as if the words paste themselves onto his irises, Mike pants them out.
“Something’s coming!”
Will nods ever so slightly, taking time to look at everyone worriedly. The entire party scours around to find some sort of weapon, anything that can help them. They’re in the basement, so there’s limited time or space to run. The huddle in a circle, backs turned to one another, eyes locked on every nook and cranny of the basement.
Mike bumps Will’s shoulder, giving him a determined look, and Will nods. He can do it again. Whatever they need of him, he can channel his powers again. He wouldn’t let anything hurt his friends, his family. He keeps himself attentive, on edge, waiting for any sort of disturbance. It’s far too quiet, everyone’s labored breaths being the only sounds to ring through the room. Could Vecna manipulate his visions? Could he make Will see things that aren’t real, aren’t actually going to happen? Is it some sort of trap?
Will refuses to let his guard down, psyching himself up to use his powers. But still, nothing shows. A light brush of his arm brings Will back to reality, and he looks to his side to see what Mike wants, only, Mike isn’t standing next to him anymore. He’s beginning to float.
“No,” Will’s heart drops to his feet as he realizes what’s happening, what the vision meant.
“No, no, no, no!” Will screams, grabbing onto Mike and trying to force him down to the ground.
“Mike!” Lucas hollers, running to his aid as well. Will feels a pang of empathy amidst the utter fear in his heart. Lucas has already had to go through this; it can’t happen again.
“Quick does anyone know his favorite song?” Robin asks frantically, beginning to run to the stereo in the corner of the basement.
Everyone’s heads snap toward Will, and it hits him that no, even he doesn’t know Mike’s favorite song. Will slowly shakes his head as his eyes cloud up. He looks to the left as Mike slowly raises more. With the demogorgons, Will had felt as though their demise happened so quickly. There was hardly time for them to even react. But this? Mike is rising so slowly that he’s only five, maybe six inches from the ground. Heedlessly, the crowd digs through Mike’s vast collection of cassette tapes, and Will joins them.
Will cracks open every case, hoping for a written confirmation that something would work. Case after case he’s left with nothing worthwhile.
“Has anyone found anything?” Will asks, desperation cracking his voice.
“I haven’t found anything!” Joyce hollers, seemingly just as panicked.
“No!” Robin yells, and she looks over at Will with the most knowing, pathetic look. It makes his heart break more.
This can’t happen. He can’t lose Mike before he ever gets to say anything. He feels so stupid, so naïve. Why didn’t he just tell Mike how he felt from the beginning? Mike may not have liked him back, may not have agreed, but he wouldn’t have stopped being his friend. Will knows Mike loves him in some way, maybe not the way he wants, but he knows Mike would never turn him away for feeling like that. Will searches even faster, hands shaking so much he’s surprised they can even break through the cases holding the cassettes.
“Wait, he has a Walkman upstairs! There might be something up there,” Will explains, not waiting for any responds before running up the stairs, taking two at a time.
He books it to Mike’s bedroom, stopping short for a moment as he looks at the disarray that had been caused by Ted getting slammed through the wall by the demogorgon. He’s never seen Mike’s room like this, and for some reason, it makes Will sad. Will shakes his body, wringing out his hands to remind himself to get back to it. Mike could die if he doesn’t get his shit together. Will finds himself scrounging around for something, anything that can help. He spots a shoebox under the end of Mike’s bed and pulls it out. He might as well give it a shot.
When Will cracks open the box, his heart stops. Inside, there is one cassette lying on top of what appears to be a mound of notebook paper. Will carefully lifts up the mix, and his eyes catch on the first piece of paper. It’s a letter. Addressed to him. Will then looks to the cassette tape, hoping to see an indication that it is too. Will finds it, sees that written on it in bold, black permanent marker are the words “For Will x”.
Teeth chattering with so many emotions, Will removes the tape from the box. If he doesn’t pull it together he thinks he might go insane with the implications. It can’t be what he thinks it is, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try and let himself find out. He runs faster than he ever has before, clearing the stairs in a single jump. His ankles and knees creak and moan in response, but it doesn’t matter. He’d break every bone in his body to keep Mike Wheeler safe.
“Guys! I think I have something,” Will shouts as he struggles to move for a moment.
Holding his breath, holding his tears, Will places the cassette into the player, and wheels around to stare at Mike who has gotten progressively higher. His head is only a foot away from the ceiling, and Will knows that if this doesn’t work, they’ll have failed.
Please, he prays, if you never give me anything else, please just keep Mike safe.
The tape begins to play, a low, soft tune. David Bowie. Heroes. Will had shown Mike this song immediately after Jonathan had shown him, and Mike had taken to it quicker than Will had expected.
————————————————
Mike stands, gripping the baseball bat that had once belonged to him whenever his dad decided he needed to man up and play sports in the fifth grade. Mike holds it as if it alone is the key to his survival, as if dropping it or not dropping it is a matter of life or death. Will hadn’t specified what exactly was coming for them, but Mike can feel his heart skipping beats as he tries to imagine what it could be. His mind concludes the worst, and he turns to Will to see if anything has changed with him.
Only, it isn’t Will standing beside him anymore. It’s no one. No one but a large, rainy field. The rain avoids him somehow, as if he isn’t even there. Mike’s throat clogs with thick realization.
He’s in his own neighborhood. He spies his house just across from him, and hopelessly, he begins to run for it. It may be futile, but he could have a chance. He has to try. Mike catches movement from the trees around his garage, and swallowing his fear, he wills to investigate. A man stands there, laden in a brown suit, holding up a pocket watch. A hat covers his face in shadows, but Mike already knows who it is. Suddenly, the headaches and nightmares make sense. This hadn’t even been something that coffee could have cured.
“Henry,” Mike whispers, and Henry peeks his head up in Mike’s direction.
“Michael, I have been waiting for you,” He says, lifting a finger to gesture Mike over to him. “I have so much to show you.”
Mike can’t begin to understand why, but he obeys. He walks toward the tree line, but stops short when he hears his own voice.
“Will. Come on,” Mike hears himself say.
Mike’s head snaps in the direction of his garage, where he spots a younger him with a younger Will. They’re in his garage, Will hastily messing with his backpack. Mike remembers this day. He remembers this moment. His heart breaks at the sight. He doesn’t want to relive this.
“You can’t leave, it’s raining,” Younger him spouts, annoyed but worried. He isn’t supposed to let Will leave alone in the rain or the dark.
Younger Will continues to ignore Mike as he gets ready to mount his bike, but Mike has never known how to take a hint. He feels a pang in his heart as his younger self continues to speak, and he wishes he could stop it, could make it to where this memory never happened.
“Listen, I said I was sorry, alright? It’s a cool campaign, it’s really cool. We’re just not in the mood right now,” Current Mike closes his eyes, bracing for the impact of angry Will. It’s one of the only times in his entire life Mike has ever seen Will angry, and the only time he’s ever had Will been angry with him, besides when he was possessed.
“Yeah, Mike. That’s the problem! You guys are never in the mood anymore; you’re ruining our party.” The words rip themselves out of younger Will’s mouth, and Mike can tell they hurt him to say just as much as it hurts Mike to hear, landing like paper cuts against throat and ears.
“That’s not true!” Mike tries to defend, and Current Mike wishes he could shake his past self. It was true. Will has been right about everything regarding him.
“Really?” Will questions with gall. “Where’s Dustin right now?”
The silence between the two is palpable.
“See, you don’t know, and you don’t even care, and obviously he doesn’t either, and I don’t blame him! You’re destroying everything, and for what? So you can swap spit with some stupid girl?” Will’s words feel like poison slipping into Current Mike’s veins, killing him slowly from the inside in the most painful way imaginable.
Mike knows what’s coming, but he still winces in preparation of his own words. He turns away from the scene, unable to watch as the words land.
“El’s not stupid! It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!” The words make Current Mike want to throw up, the whole scene makes him feel sick, and he slowly forces his eyes open, ready to watch Will bike away.
When his eyes open, however, he’s no longer standing outside in the rain. Instead, Mike is somewhere dark with bright, fluorescent blue and yellow lights illuminating the scene. Rink-o-Mania. He stands and watches as younger Mike begins to yell at Will.
“Which is why you decided to be such a douche to her all day?” Mike interrogates angrily.
“I wasn’t being a douche!” Will defends, but younger Mike is so outraged by that idea that he whirls around to face Will. To start a fight in the middle of a roller-skating rink. Mike cringes at his past self.
“You were! You were rolling your eyes, you were—you were moping! You were barely talking! You basically sabotaged the whole day!” Mike claims, and Current Mike can’t believe those words came out of his own mouth.
“Well, she was lying to you, Mike. Straight to your face ever since you got here. And I’ve been a total third wheel all day. It’s been miserable.” Mike wonders about this moment, about why younger him had been more bothered by the idea of Will moping around than he was about literally everything that had been going on with El.
“So…sorry if I wasn’t smiling.”
“Yeah, whatever man,” Younger Mike gives up on Will, turning to walk away from him.
Something deep within Mike’s heart stirs, makes him long to reach out and spin his own self around, forcing him to just talk. A beat passes before Will does this for him.
“Well what about us?” Will asks, and it’s as if Mike can hear from his voice alone that he’s holding back tears.
“What?” Mike demands incredulously.
“What, you’re mad that I didn’t talk to you? It seems like you made it super clear that you’re not interested in anything I have to say.” Will points out.
“That’s just not true,” Younger Mike says, and that part, at least, came from the heart.
“You’ve called maybe a couple of times. It’s been a year, Mike. Meanwhile, El has like a book of letters from you,” Mike watches as his face lights up at Will’s audacity.
“That’s because she’s my girlfriend, Will.”
“And us?”
“We’re friends! We’re friends.” Something stirs in Mike’s heart as he hears these words. He understands where Will was coming from, now. They have always been different, closer than most.
“Well, we used to be best friends!”
Mike watches his younger face fall, but he doesn’t get to hear the rest of the conversation. Instead, he’s switching memories again, sitting in the passenger seat of a van driving through sunny California. Mike turns his head to the rear seat and sees exactly what he thought he would. It’s him and Will.
“Can I show you something,” Will asks, and Mike watches as younger him nods, brows slightly furrowed.
Mike can’t bring himself to understand why he’s being shown this memory. It had been such an innocent one. He remembers how confident this moment made him feel, how much closer it made him feel to Will. Mike watches himself unravel the painting with innate curiosity in his eyes, watches as his own eyes light up as a genuine smile comes to his face. Mike still treasures this painting; still keeps it posted in his bedroom. Mike watches his younger self closely, trying to tap into how he felt that day, trying to understand why he could possibly be having this memory being shown to him.
Mike suddenly remembers how he felt right then, in the van. He recalls how younger him had been so excited when Will pulled out that painting again. He had been so curious about it since the airport, and the only painting Mike had remembered either anyone talking about was the one Eleven mentioned that Will had been painting for a girl. This one, though, this one was for him. Only for him. Mike hadn’t received a Will Byers original in years, and he couldn’t believe he was finally getting a new one. Mike remembers how his heart dropped a little when he had read El’s letter about a painting for a girl, remembers how his heart dropped a little more when Will said this painting had been commissioned by Eleven. He hadn’t known why he felt that way at the time, but Current Mike is slowly starting to piece the puzzle together.
All of these memories, all of these moments, have been about Will. Why would Henry be showing him these if it didn’t mean something? He watches younger Will turn to the side after he’s done with his speech, and only now, from this angle, can Mike notice that he’s crying. Sobbing, even. It hits Mike like a ton of bricks, and he whips his head in all directions looking for Henry, to no avail.
Another memory begins to play, and Mike hears himself screaming before he even realizes he’s doing it.
“Stop! Please stop!”
But the memory continues. Him and Will, sharing a bed. It had been a random night during the quarantine, around three o’clock in the morning. Will had knocked on Mike’s door, and Mike answered it without a second of hesitation. When he saw Will there, teary eyed and terrified, he had immediately beckoned him inside.
“Sorry for intruding,” Current Mike hears Will whisper.
“Oh, it’s fine. Is everything alright?” Mike asks with a yawn, having just been broken out of his sleep.
“I had a nightmare about…about everything, you know?” Will opens up, and Current Mike watches his younger self sit up straighter on his bed. He watches as a hand comes to pat the spot next to him, as Will hesitates to get close.
“Do you want to talk about it, or do you just want to sleep in here?” Mike can remember the way the question had made him feel. It felt illicit, strange, different from all the other sleepovers they had ever had. Intimate, too much so.
“I can sleep in here?” Will asks, voice small, and younger Mike nods slightly in response, giving the slightest hint of a smile. Younger Mike goes back to lying down in the spot that he fell asleep earlier.
Mike watches as they both lay down, silent as mice. They don’t talk further, as if both of them were scared of the implications of the moment. As large of a gap as possible had wedged itself between the boys. Mike watches as Will lulls off, watches as his younger self turns over to face the boy. His eyes had looked ashamed as he watched Will, eyebrows drawn up in the front as if he had felt sad or guilty. Mike remembers that he had felt both so, so strongly. He still spent a good amount of the night unable to sleep, unable to calm his heart enough to be able to rest next to the boy until well after the sun had begun to shine through his window. Mike has never hated himself more than he had that night.
The memory skips like a tape to morning time, and Mike watches his younger self wake up, eyes instantly searching for Will. He had already left, though, and Mike watches as disappointment floods his own face. Mike remembers the next moment clearly. He watches his younger self get down on the floor and drag a box out from under his bed. It was the box he kept full of letters he never had the confidence to send to Will. In it, a nearly empty mixtape.
The only song that had been on it had been Heroes by David Bowie. Mike remembers the first time Will ever introduced him to that song. It had been life changing. Still to this day, it remains his favorite song. It just reminds him of Will so much. It reminds him of them when they were younger, when it was just them against the world and the only monster that ever existed was Lonnie. Mike is overwhelmed by it all. He remembers more, remembers how he had spent the rest of the next week filling up the tape with songs. How he had written “To Will x” on the tape. How he had dropped the tape in the box as if it had burned him to touch it, and he never pulled it out again.
Over the past few years, things between him and Will have been much different. Mike has been having so much trouble talking to him, joking with him. Mike likes to pretend that everything is normal. His whole life he has tried desperately to just be normal, to be like everyone else. But something about Will makes him feel abnormal. Something about Will makes Mike feel too real, too human, and part of him hates it. He has repressed it his whole life, and now, in this moment, Mike is seeing where that has led him.
“Do you understand now, Michael?” Vecna’s voice echoes through his mind as the scene fades away from him, leaving him in a vast, red-painted pit of hell.
“Understand what?” Mike spits, eyes searching for Vecna.
“How much I need you. How much he does?”
A glimpse into the current world, a glimpse of Will crying, trying to drag Mike down from where he floats. Mike wants to vomit.
“Please,” Mike feels himself beg, and it’s so unlike him to be so weak.
“I told William before that some minds don’t belong in your world, they belong in mine. And I think you would make the perfect addition. We’ll see how strong he thinks he is now, with you no longer in the picture.” Vecna stands in front of him, smirking, and Mike’s heart stops.
“Without you, he’s going to break so much easier.” Vecna punctuates the last few words, accentuating them to make Mike scared, and it works.
Mike is terrified. He is going to die. He is going to die, and Will will be tortured by him for the rest of his life
Mike begins to run, to try to at least, but a force so similar to Eleven’s knocks him to his feet. Mike scrambles backwards, feet kicking for any sort of purchase. He stares wide-eyed as Vecna walks toward him, eyes searching around for anything, when suddenly, a clouded something appears behind Vecna. It opens, and Mike can hear the beginning chords or Heroes.
His favorite song.
Mike picks himself up, willing himself to run to the opening. He watches himself rise and rise, watches his right arm drop the baseball bat as it snaps to his side. Mike has seen this exact sequence before, knows what will happen if he doesn’t make it in time. It’s like he’s in a bubble with the song, nothing able to reach him, including Vecna. Debris crashes all around him, knocking him off his feet a couple of times, but Mike knows he cannot stop, can’t give up. If not for himself than for everyone else in that room, begging him to come back to them.
Mike hears distant screaming, and then he feels like he’s falling.
“Grab him, grab him!” Someone begs, and someone does.
Mike is suspended in the air.
His eyes roll from the back of his head, and a shooting pain comes from his right arm. He glances around, desperate to see what has happened. He is still in the air, and he looks down to see Will, tears and blood streaming down his face as his head juts up toward him. It lowers slowly, as does Mike, and Mike looks at his right arm to try and see what could possibly be causing him so much pain, but when he looks, he knows.
His arm is snapped at the elbow, the lower half bent the other way. Mike gags at it, stumbling on his feet as he feels himself about to retch. Will catches him, grabbing at his waist and his face to try and stabilize him. It had almost been too late.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, Mike.” Will tries to reassure, but his voice is tight.
Mike can feel his vision blurring as he glances around the room, drowsy from the pain. Will shakily drags Mike closer to himself, holding onto him so harshly as if he’ll disappear forever if he lets go.
“We need to get him to the hospital,” Will demands, frantic, teary eyes searching around.
“I can take him!” Robin says, grabbing the keys from Joyce’s outstretched hand.
“I’m coming, too,” Lucas pipes up, and Will goes to volunteer himself as well.
“Will,” Joyce says softly, hand outstretched towards him. “I’m sorry baby, but it’s too dangerous for you to go there right now. We don’t know who knows about you or who might be coming for you. You need to stay put.”
Everything in Will’s body wants to object, but he knows she’s right. He can’t put Mike in any more danger than he already has. Will brings Mike closer to the duo, being very careful not to move his arm too much. He hands him off to Lucas, who runs out with Robin.
“He’ll be okay, you saved him,” Joyce reassures, and Will nods.
“That tape, whatever you found, it must’ve been his favorite.” Joyce smiles, and Will is brought back to reality.
“The tape! We have to give them the tape! He could target him again,” Will exclaims, running to remove the tape and bring it to Robin and Lucas. Part of him is embarrassed by the secret they will learn, but the other part of him revels in it. Mike had made a tape for him, with a kiss added beside his name.
He runs out to Robin, who is already halfway in the car.
“Robin, take this. You guys might need it,” He says out of breath, handing over the tape. He watches as Robin gives it a once over. He watches her eyes pause on the words written, and she looks up at Will with delight in her eyes.
“Avalanche,” Will nods, and Robin smiles, tears poking at her eyes.
“We’ll get him help, don’t worry,” Robin reassures, tucking the tape in her inside jacket pocket, possibly in an attempt to conceal it from Lucas. Will appreciates the gesture, pats the car, and backs away, giving them room to speed off.
In the hospital, Mike gets taken back for surgery. Robin and Lucas are forced to sit in the waiting room until it’s finished, and both of their legs shake furiously.
“I’m sorry,” Robin pipes up, head rolling over to look at Lucas.
“It’s okay. I’m just glad he’s alright,” Lucas says, and Robin knows it’s the truth, but she also knows how hard it must’ve been for him.
“How long have you two been friends?” Robin asks, and Lucas finally looks at her.
“I don’t remember not being his friend,” He whispers, and he sinks back further into his chair.
Robin’s puts her hand on his shoulder and squeezes.
“I’m so glad Will was able to find that tape. I can’t believe I didn’t know his favorite song. I thought we all told each other after…after Max,” Lucas mumbles, putting his head in his palm. “Maybe he did and I just didn’t remember when it mattered the most.”
Robin gazes at him solemnly, shaking his shoulder slightly.
“Hey, this isn’t your fault, okay? It never has been.” Robin assures, and Lucas looks at her sadly.
“It doesn’t feel that way.” He confesses, big brown eyes dripping with guilt.
“You know, you can go see her if you want? They’ll probably only let one person go in to see Mike at a time since he’s a newly admitted patient,” Robin offers, and Lucas nods, desperate to have something to keep his mind off of Mike.
Soon, Robin is alone. She pulls the tape out of her jacket pocket and looks at it once more. She looks at the writing, at the shaky way the words are written. Something in her buzzes as she thinks back to Will talking to her in this very hospital. She remembers watching him and Mike on the field, remembers how certain she was that Mike was the one Will was asking about. She hadn’t been so sure then, after watching Will’s reaction, how close the two were, but now she gets it.
Robin thinks back to the way she felt when it became clear that Vickie liked her back. She’s so elated for Will that she can’t stop herself from smiling widely and cradling the tape. It must’ve been so terrifying for him. She can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for him to see Mike like that. She couldn’t imagine seeing Vickie like that, and though she loves Vickie, and though she would argue just as much, it’s true that they don’t even have the same extensive history as Mike and Will, don’t have the back and forth of she likes me, she likes me not. Vickie being in danger would absolutely kill her, but at least she knows how Vickie feels. At least they have been able to have time together like that.
It takes hours for the doctor to finally come into the waiting room, and Robin is half asleep. The clearing of a throat causes her to stir.
“Ms. Buckley?” The doctor questions, looking around.
Robin shoots up out of the chair, going to greet him.
“That was quite the injury,” The doctor breaks the ice with a wince. “But he’s out of surgery and should be waking from anesthesia any time now. You may go see him. If there’s anyone else who may want to see him, you can call them on our landline, but we don’t permit more than one guest at a time in situations like this.”
“I understand, thank you,” Robin says, trying to seem nonchalant as she borderline runs to the room they took Mike to.
When she gets there, Mike’s eyes are open and a nurse is tending to him.
“Um, hi!” Robin speaks up, waving at her.
“Hello. You must be here for him I’m assuming? I’m just propping him up a bit, and then he’s all yours. There’s a button on the remote on the bed to send us a signal if you need us soon,” The nurse explains, finishing up with Mike and walking out of the door.
“Thanks,” Robin ducks her head in appreciation, and she vaguely registers the nurse probably thinks she’s Mike’s girlfriend. Robin giggles.
Mike’s dazed eyes wander over to her at the sound, and he giggles.
“Rockin' Robin!” He shouts, excitedly.
Robin rushes to his side, shushing him.
“Wheeler! We’re in a hospital, you gotta be quiet,” She informs, and his eyebrows furrow.
“Hospital? Why’re we in a hospital?” Mike questions, seemingly oblivious.
“You hurt your arm. Do you remember that?” Robin is gentle with her speech, like she’s talking to a child.
Mike’s face screws up in thought, and Robin has to turn her head to stop from laughing at how it’s taking so much effort for him to think.
“I remember that,” Mike nods, still looking a little confused. “Why’re you here?”
Robin guffaws, she'd be insulted by the question if she hadn't known he is high out of his mind.
“I’m the one who drove your sorry ass here,” She says, her voice still delighted by the boys slurred behavior.
“Where’s Will?” Mike asks, head and eyes looking around and around, as if he’s just overlooking him.
“Will isn’t here, Mike.” Robin informs, and Mike deflates.
“Aw, man. I wanted ta’ see Will,” Mike chirps, sighing as he closes his eyes and immediately dozes off.
Robin smiles sweetly at him, feeling so maternal over the duo. How lucky Will is to have found someone like Mike, but how much luckier Mike is to have someone like Will.
It takes another hour or so for Mike to wake up, and he does so wincing.
“Fuck.” Mike says, trying to sit up slightly.
He looks down at his arm, the one that is causing him quite a bit of pain. It’s bandaged all the way up and wrapped in a sling, pressed against his chest. He notices a figure in the chair beside his bed then and startles.
“Oh, hey Robin,” Mike speaks up awkwardly. He doesn’t talk to her very often, so he is amazed that she’s there of all people.
“Hey, Wheeler, how you feelin’?” she asks, tilting her head at him with a smile.
Mike is reminded of the other day, of her and Will in the tunnel, laughing and smiling. Something stirs in his gut. How’s he feeling? Overwhelmed. Far too overwhelmed. He has realized too much, and he had thought…but then he’s looking at Robin, remembering her and Will, and maybe he had been wrong.
“My arm hurts like hell,” Mike says, slightly annoyed.
“That’s to be expected. You kinda got super Vecna’d. I’m just glad you’re alive.” She’s too enthusiastic, and it makes Mike mad.
“Yeah, whatever. I’m fine now. Where’s everyone else?” Mike asks, eyebrows furrowed at her.
If Robin picks up his displeasure at her, she doesn’t show it.
“Only Lucas and I came. Lucas is with Max right now, though. You aren’t allowed to have multiple visitors.” Robin informs him, but Mike’s still confused.
“Why isn’t Will here?” He questions, “Or Joyce?” He adds as an afterthought.
“Too dangerous. You of all people should know that.” Mike nods. That he does get.
“I’m surprised you wanted to leave Will,” Mike says with venom, eying Robin to gauge her reaction.
“What does that mean? You’re the one who got hurt and someone had to drive.” Robin says it like it’s obvious.
“Yeah, but you two are so close now, I would’ve thought you would’ve wanted to stay with him.” Mike offers, unable to even look at Robin.
Robin laughs out loud.
“What are you implying here, Wheeler?” She looks at him with an astonished look on her face.
“You guys are like…a thing, right?” Mike says, but his voice gets quiet as he says it. He can tell just by her face that he’s dead wrong.
“Jesus, no! I love the kid, I do, but like—first off, you guys are like twelve—” Robin starts.
“Sixteen,” Mike corrects obnoxiously, and she shoots him a look, causing him to shut his trap.
“Second of all, I don’t even like boys, Mike.” Robin confesses, and Mike’s eyes grow wide, face blooming in red.
“You…you don’t? But you and Will have been so…” Mike trails off.
“Do you know how we saved you?” Robin asks, completely shutting down the current conversation, but Mike can’t find himself able to speak.
“Will went up to your room and came back down with this,” Robin pulls the tape out of her jacket, handing it to Mike. “Bowie. Very good taste.” She says, winking as Mike takes the tape from her.
Will had found the tape. Red hot embarrassment and shame eat at him at once, and he closes his eyes, unable to face the world. He should’ve burned it. He should’ve burned it and the letters.
A moment goes by where neither of them speak. The silence causes Mike to replay what Vecna had made him see. Oh, Will. Robin’s hand comes to grab Mike’s left one. He reluctantly forces his eyes open, looking over at her.
“Listen,” Robin sighs, giving him a pity look. “I don’t mean to imply anything, but I don’t think Will seemed very upset about the tape.” Robin says, eyebrows raising in a stern look like ‘please get what I’m saying’. Mike, of course, does not.
“I doubt he would tell you if he was. No offense.” Mike points out, and Robin closes her eyes, bringing her free hand up to rub her forehead like the words instantly gave her a headache.
“Okay, listen to me, Wheeler. It’s too late to back down now. He knows already. He found the damn tape for Pete’s sake. And I know what this means,” Robin says, pointing at the tape. “I understand, okay? And nothing good will happen if you just keep it all bottled up. It may suck to clarify, it may suck to come out, but you have to, or else the rest of your life you will be so unhappy. You’ll bottle it up until the pressure gets too high and then Jesus, you’ll probably kill yourself or something. You need to sort out your shit, Wheeler.” Robin warns.
Mike’s heart rate quickens at her words. Doesn’t she understand how big of a deal this would be for him? How no one would ever be able to see him the same again?
“I can’t just…you don’t get it.” Mike turns away from her in his anger, but she grabs his hand harder.
“No, Mike. I do. I’m one of the only people in the goddamn world who does get it. I don’t care what sorry shit you have rattling around in your brain. It’s okay to be the way that we are. It doesn’t make you weird. It doesn’t make you wrong. It’s just love, in a different form than most people are used to. That doesn’t make it bad or wrong, that makes it the truest kind of love. It’s love when no one is looking, when it transcends the status quo. You’re not abnormal for feeling this way, you’re brave. And I believe in you, and I know everyone else does, too.” Robin’s words are so determined, so sure that they break down every brick of the wall he had placed around his heart.
It’s like she knew exactly what he needed to hear. Tears threaten to spill as he processes it all. He offers Robin a smile, the most grateful one he can manage, and she returns it, bringing her hand down to grasp his. She doesn’t let go of it, and he feels his own grip tighten.
The nurse comes to check in on Mike again, ruining the moment. Their hands fall away from one another as she does one last lookover before confirming his ability to be discharged and instructing him on his new medication and cast. It’s going to take a lot of work to get himself back to health, and his arm may never fully be the same. It takes Mike a moment to get out of the hospital bed without using his right arm. It sucks that it was his dominant one, but all things considered, he’s glad it’s just the one. They walk slowly, allowing Mike to take his time, as they go to collect Lucas.
When they get to Max’s room, they find Lucas asleep on the chair next to hers, holding her limp hand in his. Lucas stirs when the door opens, and his eyes shoot open as he realizes it’s Mike.
“Oh my God! You’re okay!” Lucas cheers, tearily, nearly falling out of his chair to get up to Mike and give him a gentle side-hug.
“Yeah, I am. Thanks for coming, Lucas,” Mike says, shyly. Lucas smiles at him.
“You’re my best friend, man. You think I wouldn’t be there for you in a situation like this?” Lucas asks, and part of Mike feels guilty. He hadn’t been there for Lucas when he was going through this—when Max was.
They make it back to the Wheeler house quickly, Robin having quite the lead foot. Upon hearing a car pull up, Will and Joyce run out of the house, ready to see if Mike is okay. When Mike steps out of the car, he sees Will fall to his knees, holding his heart.
“Will?” Mike asks, softly, looking at the boy.
“Mike! Thank God!” Will smiles, tears down his face. He gets off the ground and runs over, putting an arm around his shoulder.
“Are you okay? How hurt are you?” Will asks, worried as a mom as he stands back from Mike and looks him all over. It makes Mike snicker.
“I’m okay, I’m okay. It’s just my arm, I promise.” Mike’s eyes glisten like honey in the light above his front door.
“I thought you were going to die,” Will’s voice breaks, tears falling once more. His eyes look swollen, as if he hasn’t had much of a break from this.
“I couldn’t. I had you right there. You saved me. Again.” Mike smiles, reassuring the boy.
“I’m so glad you’re okay. Do you guys still have the tape?” Will asks, and Mike blushes, moving his head to look away from Will. He’d forgotten about the tape.
“Yeah. Robin has it.” A beat and then, “Can we talk?” Mike asks, eyes determined.
“Yeah, I think that’d be good.” Will responds, and he helps Mike go inside.
They head to the basement, but no one else seems to follow.
“Will, Mike, we’re gonna stay up here and try and figure out something to eat. Are you cool with taking care of him for right now, honey?” Joyce asks Will, a knowing look in her eyes.
Will’s head twitches forward at her, eyes widening, as if to say ‘shut up mom!’. She winks.
“Yes. It’s fine,” Will responds with sassy embarrassment, going all the way downstairs with Mike.
Mike stumbles to the couch and sits down, closing his eyes. Will hesitates, staying at the base of the stairs, leaning on the railing. One of Mike’s eyes opens, looking at Will. He juts his head to the left, toward the empty couch beside him, and Will obliges to the silent request. He still leaves a noticeable distance between them.
“Listen, Mike, you don’t have to—” Will tries to offer, but Mike just shushes him, shaking his head.
“Stop. I—I have been terrible to you. Just awful,” Mike starts, and he can see the wheels in Will’s brain spinning to try and understand where he’s getting at.
“No, you haven’t. You’ve just been going through a lot—” Will tries to reason, but Mike just shoots him a look.
“Let me speak,” His tone is so gentle compared to the commandeering nature of his words. ‘Will voice’ Dustin and Lucas would say to make fun of them. Will shuts up.
“When I was…just now, before you saved me, I was being shown memories. I didn’t understand at first, why it was happening. I was standing in a yard. It was raining, but I wasn’t getting wet. I was so confused. I had just been right next to you. But then I saw my house, just in front of me, and I ran for it. That’s when I saw him. He presented himself to me as Henry at first, not as Vecna. That’s when I knew.” Mike says, looking up at Will to see his attention has been totally caught.
“He said he’d been waiting on me, and he gestured me over to him. For some reason, I couldn’t help but follow what he said. He showed me these memories, a bunch of them. This one was from a few summers ago. It was of us. Of that day we fought in the garage after your D&D campaign,” Mike explains, and Will’s eyes flash with hurt as he remembers exactly what Mike is talking about.
“Then he showed me us at the roller-skating rink. The one in California. We had a fight there, too. Then he showed me us talking about your painting in the van. He showed me…never mind.” Mike cuts himself off. Some memories feel too personal to share, even in this moment.
“I’m sorry, Mike, that sounds like a lot,” Will’s apology is sincere, but it’s not what Mike wants. He doesn’t crave sympathy, he craves answers.
“Thank you, but that’s not really why I’m bringing it all up.” Mike informs, and Will’s eyebrow cocks up, intrigued.
“Did El really commission that painting?” Mike asks, and Will sucks in a breath as if he didn’t expect to be asked that.
“I’ll talk about the painting if you talk about the box I found in your room,” Will offers, cheekily, too quickly as though he’s been waiting for the chance.
Something about seeing Will act so normal, so cocky, makes Mike smile despite himself. He’s so glad that he hasn’t lost Will. After everything he’s done to the boy, he deserved to. But Will still stayed. Mike will owe him for the rest of his life for not giving up on him. Which includes sharing even his most intimate of memories with him.
“I think that can be arranged,” Mike grins at Will, who grins back. There’s something so beautiful about the prospect of knowing it all. Of no more secrets.
“You first.” Mike prompts, and Will rolls his eyes, but Mike can see the way he tenses up slightly, as if he’s still nervous to tell the truth.
Mike puts his hand on Will’s thigh, near his knee. He can feel Will’s body shudder at the touch.
“El didn’t commission the painting.” Will confirms, keeping his eyes away from Mike. They’re squeezed shut as if he’s bracing for some sort of impact upon the admission.
“I didn’t think so.” Mike says, whole body shivering from the thrill, and Will’s eyes shoot open.
“Have you known this whole time?” Will questions, embarrassed, but not shy.
“No, no. I just realized it earlier. So why’d you do it? Why’d you lie?” Mike interrogates, and Will grimaces a little.
“I didn’t intend on lying to you. But I got it out and handed it to you, and you seemed so excited by it that I didn’t want to ruin the moment. You were so worried about Eleven just before that, and I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy, Mike. It felt like the right thing to do.” Will discloses.
“So were the words actually yours? Those things you said Eleven said?” Mike probes, and Will blushes under the pressure of laying himself bare.
“Yeah. Yeah, they were.” Mike shyly smiles at Will in response to the confirmation.
“Cool.” Mike says, and Will looks at him strangely.
“Your turn. What’s with the box?” Will asks, and it’s Mike’s turn to look abashed.
“When you were in California, I wanted to reach out, I swear. I wrote letters to you almost every single day. I just couldn’t find it in myself to send them. It felt too real. In what way? I don’t know, it just…it made me feel guilty. I had these letters I was trying to write my own girlfriend, and I couldn’t bring myself to make them half as honest. It made me uncomfortable. I didn’t understand yet. But it made me feel like I would be hurting El somehow, that I was betraying her by writing to you. I almost sent them sometimes. I would bike all the way down to the post office with them in my bag, but I’d always get cold feet. And any time I did that or thought about doing that, I always wrote El a letter. Like an apology or something.” Mike can’t stop himself from revealing everything, all of it.
Something about Will has always made Mike feel safe, at home. It’s why Hawkins was so uncomfortable with him in California. It’s why they grew so close as kids.
“That’s…a lot, Mike,” Will huffs out, watching Mike intently.
“You can read them if you want, now. The letters. There’s no point in hiding them anymore.” Mike permits, and Will shyly get off the couch.
Mike watches him walk toward the t.v., and he spies his letter box sitting on the stand. He throws his head back against the couch and groans.
“Wait, I promise I haven’t read them at all. I just…I figured we would talk about them when you got home, so I wanted to bring them down here,” Will says, at least having the decency to look ashamed, and Mike eases a bit.
“Whatever. Like I said, it doesn’t matter. You can keep them. They were yours to begin with,” Mike shrugs, and Will cradles the box a little closer to his chest.
“What about the tape?” Will urges, so quiet his breath wouldn’t even be able to tousle hair.
“That one…that’s…” Mike tries to begin, but he struggles to find the confidence to get the words out.
“Hey, you promised,” Will whispers, eyes wide and bright, urging Mike to continue. Mike can tell how much this means to Will, how desperately he wants to know what it means.
“I made that a few months ago. Do you remember the night you had a nightmare and came to sleep in my room?” Mike wonders, and Will nods.
“Yeah. It was a bad one. I needed company, but I didn’t want to tell Jonathan or my mom. They would’ve been too worried. You’ve never treated me like that, like I was water in your hands, slowly slipping away,” Will states, and Mike hadn’t even known that. It makes him feel honored to know that Will has always felt the same way as Mike, safe and at home with him.
“Right. You came to my room, and for some reason I couldn’t sleep. I spent almost the entire night watching you,” Mike barely says the words loud enough for Will to hear, the rational part of his brain begging him to shut the hell up.
“Creep,” Will tries to joke, but it comes out breathless.
“I spent the next like week making that tape, and then I put it in the box. I was so ashamed of it, so much more than with the letters. But I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it completely.” Mike closes his eyes, head leaned against the back of the couch.
“Well, all things considered I’m really glad you didn’t get rid of it.” Will says, trying to lighten the mood. It works.
They lock eyes for what feels like ten minutes, just watching each other. Neither one dares to make any sort of move—whether that be to move away or to move closer. Their eyes roam one another’s until green and brown seem to melt together, unable to ever be separated.
Mike leans in first, his elbow screaming at him to stop moving, but he can’t bring himself to stop. Will meets him halfway, and his lips are rough, hungry. He seems to devour Mike, and Mike feels faint. Kissing Eleven had never once felt like this. He brings his good arm up to cradle Will’s head, gripping the back of his hair to plant him there. Will doesn’t mind, and he almost reciprocates, bringing his hand up to hold himself steady with Mike’s jaw.
Will pulls apart for a moment, but his head doesn’t leave Mike’s. Their foreheads rest against one another as they breathe into each other’s open mouths. The warm breath hitting Mike’s lips makes him desperate for more. He cracks open his eyes to discover Will’s already on him, and he stays there. Looking. He watches him for a moment, trying to gauge when he’ll be ready again, but Will answers the question for him. Lips crash back onto his, and nothing in the world has ever felt so right. He tugs at Will’s lips gently with his teeth, causing them to pry open. Mike goes to deepen the kiss, but—
“Oh my God,” Lucas says, and Mike and Will break apart like Lego.
“Lucas!” They both shout, eyes snapping back to one another in a sense of ‘oh fuck!’
Lucas’s hands dart to cover his eyes, and he turns back around.
“I’m so sorry. I’m gonna go now,” Lucas says quickly, already making his way to dash up the stairs.
“Wait!” Will shouts out, and Lucas begrudgingly stops.
“What?” He asks, still not daring to look at him.
“Are you…” Will can’t even seem to get the words out, and Lucas sighs, shoulders dropping.
“I’m not gonna tell anyone, and I don’t care. Just…please remember to lock the door next time you decide to eat each other’s faces,” Lucas finishes, hushed so no one can hear up the stairs.
“Sorry,” Mike and Will both squeak, and Lucas just shakes his head.
"Haven't had to deal with this since you were with El. You need to get a grip, Wheeler," Lucas tuts, making Will giggle at him, much to Mike's displeasure.
“Food’s ready, by the way. If you guys aren’t too full off of each other already.” Lucas’s comment is snide, but Mike and Will have no room to call him out on it.
“Thank you, Lucas.” Will chimes through cringed teeth, and Lucas trots back upstairs.
Mike and Will turn to look at each other, eyes wide and faces flushed. Will is the first one to laugh, but Mike is quick to follow.
“I can’t believe we got caught!” Will giggles, and Mike punches his chest playfully.
“Oh, grow up, Byers.” Mike grins, more elated than he possibly has ever been.
Will leans in to kiss Mike on the cheek before he stands, offering a hand to help Mike off the couch. Mike takes it, and he doesn’t let it go until they are at the very top step. Mike tugs on Will’s hand, standing on his toes to give Will one last kiss before they go back to reality. Will shakes his head meekly at the gesture, giving Mike’s hand a squeeze. Mike grins, enjoying the knowledge that he can make Will feel just as weak in the knees.
“You know, not to sound suicidal or anything, but I’m really glad Vecna targeted me,” Mike whispers to Will as they walk to the family room.
“Not to sound homicidal or anything, but I’m kinda glad too,” Will huffs out a laugh.
They separate, taking their seats with everyone. For one moment, just this one moment, Will lets himself feel. He lets himself be who he really is, unashamed and proud. Will takes in the scene, everyone smiling and sharing food, and deep in his heart, carefree and cheerful, glad that the worst of tonight is behind them. For just this moment, looking over at Mike’s sparkling eyes, Will believes everything might possibly be able to be okay