Chapter Text
It was such an impossible rush.
Will’s body was convulsing inside despite his still and strong stature, feeling it all, seeing too many things at once— Mike, Lucas, Robin— Mike, Lucas, Robin—
Mike Mike Mike.
All their faces flickering in and out, back and forth, overlapping and overwhelming.
Until something snapped.
His arms jolted down to his sides, finally snapping all the tension he'd been wrangling.
And it all just released.
If you asked him the logistics of any of it, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. He couldn’t track where the surge came from, or how it moved through him, or what part of him reached across whatever invisible space existed between their world and the other one. All he knew was that the raw force that had been sitting in his chest had fused into something beyond anything he’d ever experienced.
His fear, his anger, his love, his longing— it was all there.
The world slowly came back into place around him.
And there was Mike.
Not through a demented red hue tinted with poisonous thoughts, but through his own eyes. His own heartbeat. His own mind.
And a shared look.
Mike was smiling at him like he had been waiting for him to do that. He didn’t even look that shocked, not like his mom did. Just proud.
He had always believed in him.
And then everything released again. Will’s entire body felt drained. Powerless once more, but in a gentler way.
His knees and arms buckled, and the ground lurched toward him. But he didn’t hit it.
Mike caught him— hands on his shoulders, sliding to his back, one cupping the back of his head as he guided him down delicately.
His voice was somehow giddy and exhilarated and worrisome all at the same time. “Will, oh my god— Will! Are you okay??”
Will managed a delirious nod. And a smile, but that kind of came automatically. His words came out slurred, “areyou okay?”
Mike let out a short, breathless laugh. “What? Yeah, thanks to you. Don’t worry about me.”
“Oh.” Will blinked, dizzy. “Okay.” The world felt like it was spinning a little. And he knew the look on his face must be stupid with love-struck awe, but he didn’t care. Not when Mike Wheeler was talking to him like he’d just pulled off a miracle.
And maybe he had.
Mike kept going, “that was amazing— you— Will, you saved me. Do you understand? You saved me.“
Will just stared at him as the tears finally caught up. Not from anything in specific, just all of it.
Every year of wanting, every second of being afraid of himself, every ache he never named. All of it collected at the corners of his eyes and started spilling over.
If only Mike knew that it was the other way around, that he was the one who saved him. Whatever just happened was still a mystery, an unexplainabl surge of energy, but the one thing he knew for certain was that none of it would have been possible without Mike. His strength. His heart.
And he was Mike’s—
“Sorcerer.” Mike’s grip tightened. “You really are the sorcerer, you're— you're incredible. I knew you had it in you, Will."
Then, “baby— oh, baby—!”
Mom.
Her voice suddenly cut through, rushed and frantic as she finally limped her way over to him. Her arms were around him before he could process anything, gripping him like he’d disappear. His mind was so hazy it felt like he just might.
“Will, are you okay? Talk to me.”
Will nodded, or thought he did. The motion felt far away and strangely delayed. His head lolled slightly toward her voice.
Her hands combed through his hair, along his cheek, checking for injuries he couldn’t feel. “Okay, sweetheart, we can’t stay here.” Her voice trembled. “Let’s get you inside— there are more kids in there— we still have to—”
Her words slowed. Folded and echoed around.
Will blinked, and the world turned soft at the edges.
The buildings around him tilted sideways. Mike’s fingers slipped from his shoulder, only because his mom was pulling him upward. His legs didn’t respond. He felt weightless and heavy all at once.
Someone said his name again. It sounded like it was coming through water.
His head dropped forward. They adjusted his weight quickly, alarmed.
“Will—? Will!”
But Will couldn’t answer.
He heard his own breath stutter, then level, then drift.
The world dimmed into a single thin line of light.
And then that light snapped shut.
Things went dark, instant and all-consuming.
⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄
After an unknown stretch of nothingness, Will saw light again.
He woke slowly— a gradual surfacing through layers of warmth and sleep he didn’t remember falling into. The world felt muted, like the air had shifted around him while he was unconscious.
The couch beneath him was familiar, and he soon knew exactly where he was. The Wheeler basement, in all of its comfort.
Because where else would he have ended up? Where else would Mike have taken him?
It was lit only by a single lamp on a side table, and there were multiple blankets on him, heavy enough to pin him in place. He didn’t remember anyone putting them on him.
He didn’t remember lying down at all.
He became aware of voices next, hushed and worried, drifting in from somewhere just beyond his line of sight.
His eyes fluttered open, and there they were. His mom pacing the space and Mike sitting on the ground beside the couch, knees drawn up, fingers locked around his own hands like he’d run out of ways to stop them from shaking. His hair was a little messy, his face flushed from panic.
He looked like he hadn’t blinked in ten years.
Will’s heart twisted in his chest. Hard.
When his mom caught his eyelids slowly lifting, relief broke across her face like sunlight.
“Will! Thank goodness.” She crossed the room quickly and touched his ankle through the blanket. “Are you okay??”
“Yeah.” Will hushed.
“Good, good." Joyce brushed a shaking hand through his hair. “Do you need anything? Water? Food? More blankets?”
He shook his head. Even that small motion felt slow.
“Okay,” she exhaled. “Let me know if that changes. I have to go cook for the kids, but Mike’s here with you.”
Will turned to Mike, who was already looking at him. Joyce smiled like she knew this is where they both wanted to be.
Then she got up to leave. The stairs creaked beneath her feet, the door clicked shut—
And it was just the two of them.
Mike didn’t say anything at first. He didn’t even move, as though one wrong shift might break whatever fragility existed between them right now.
Until finally, the silence was too much. “Hi,” he murmured
Will flushed. “Hi.”
It was perhaps the smallest word either of them could've said, but still too big for the room. Every syllable suddenly had such weight.
Will couldn’t get over how glassy Mike’s eyes were. Not crying, but close.
He had seen Mike cry maybe twice in his life. Once when they were kids. Once when the Mind Flayer was in him during that awful fall of ‘84.
This wasn’t either of those, though. This was different.
“Are you… okay? Like for real?” Mike whispered, like he was afraid to ask, afraid of the answer.
“Yeah,” Will nodded, quiet. “For real.”
“You sure?”
“Yes,” he smiled earnestly. “I feel fine, Mike. Really.”
Mike’s shoulders fell in a shaky exhale as he let out a breath that sounded like it might’ve been held inside him for hours. Maybe it had been. Will had no idea how long he’d been out for, or what time it was, or even what day it was.
“Good,” he whispered. “Good. That’s good.”
He shifted a little closer to the couch, still on the floor. He wasn’t touching him, but it was close.
Then, slowly, Mike’s eyes slid up to Will’s. “Do you—” he started, then stopped. “Do you remember anything? You were out for… a long time.”
“…How long?”
Mike’s mouth tightened. “Twelve hours. Almost thirteen.” The last phrase cracked something open in his voice.
Will’s eyes widened. “So it’s already tomorrow—? Did you sleep—?”
Mike failed to register his questions, spiraling a little. “You weren’t waking up. And you weren’t… you weren’t responding to anything. I kept calling your name.”
Will’s stomach twisted. He hated being a bother like that, a source of worry. “I’m sorry.”
“No— no, don’t apologize. I just… was scared. That’s all.”
That's all. As if that didn't secretly make Will’s whole body flutter.
He had to look away. Everything inside him still felt bruised and raw and all too in love with Mike.
“So um… what do you remember?” Mike asked again, softly. “I kinda got… wiped out for a second too. And it’s all hazy.”
“Not a lot,” Will forced himself to breathe. “It’s… hard to remember, but he talked to me.”
Mike’s head snapped up. “Vecna?!”
Will nodded, then shrunk a little under the weight of Mike’s sudden intensity and fear.
“What?? Will, why didn’t you say— holy shit, do we need to get you music?? Did you see the clock—?”
“No, no. He just… talked. He let me go.”
Mike’s breathing steadied only a little, but his eyes stayed wide and dark with worry. “He let you go? Really—?”
“I don’t know why,” Will said honestly. He truly did not. Only that it had to do with his mind.
“What did he say?”
Will hesitated. He hadn’t wanted to remember it. But the words and all their venom clung to him.
“He said that he’s taking kids because they’re weak. And easy to break.” His voice trembled. “Said that I was the first one who taught him that.”
Mike’s lips parted, ready to argue and defend him, but Will pushed on faster.
“I was easy to break. But I won’t be anymore.”
Mike froze, then smiled a little. It was something like awe and fear and loyalty all mixed up before the worry took over again. “What else did he say?”
“Uhm…” Will swallowed, weary of the territory he was beginning to enter. “…he said: ‘minds like yours don’t belong in this world. They belong in mine.’”
Mike’s eyebrows pulled together, confused. “What? What does that even mean?”
And this was it.
The moment Will had been avoiding for years. The one he had built walls around. The one that was now making his heart race.
He felt his whole body tense under the blankets as his fingers dug even deeper into the fabric. He didn’t want this moment to exist, especially not when he was still so unsure if Mike could be returning his feelings in any way—
—but the rule was the rule:
No secrets with the Upside Down.
Secrecy had nearly gotten them all killed. And no secret was worse than dying.
Well… except maybe the possibility of Mike hating him for it. That might be worse.
But something was telling him that Mike wouldn't.
Even if he didn’t feel the same way, he’d still looked at him like that back at the MacZ. Like he was special. Like nothing would come between them ever again.
And after everything Robin had taught him, a small trembling part of him believed he could actually say it.
He wanted to say it. He wanted Mike to know him.
He still hesitated, though. It was still terrifying. It always would be.
Will closed his eyes for a second. A long inhale, an even longer exhale. “Mike… my mind isn’t normal.”
Mike frowned in immediate loyalty. “So what? Screw normal—”
“No,” Will whispered. “Don’t try to do that, just. Listen for a second.”
Mike’s mouth closed. He nodded slowly, silently promising he wouldn’t interrupt again.
Will searched the ceiling for courage. It wasn’t there. It wasn’t anywhere. The words kept building, forcing themselves up his throat until he eventually forced it out.
“Remember two summers ago… when you said that I didn’t like girls?”
“Oh.” Guilt shot onto Mike’s face immediately. And shock. Like that was the last thing he expected Will to say. “I’m… I’m still really sorry about that. I shouldn’t have— I was wrong—”
“You weren’t.”
Mike went still. Completely still. His face shifted slowly, “…What?”
Will’s pulse thundered in his chest and all the way down to his wrists. “You weren’t wrong.”
Silence. It stretched out far too long for comfort.
Will somehow forced himself to keep going. Because if he stopped, he’d never start again.
“I don’t like girls.”
Mike blinked, slow and stunned and confused in the way he so often looked. “What…?”
His heartbeat was thundering. “I don’t like girls.”
More confusion. But Mike’s voice now carried a soft tenderness. “In what… way?”
Will almost laughed from sheer desperation. Why was he making him say it so many times? Couldn’t he just… get it?
He ran a shaky hand through his hair and quietly breathed. “As in… not the way you do.” His voice cracked. “Because I like… boys instead.”
The room didn’t move. No one breathed.
And fuck, he actually just said that.
He’d never even let himself whisper it to himself in the dark of his own room. And now he had said it to Mike. To the boy. The boy whose voice had lived in the center of every realization Will had ever had about himself.
There was no ambiguity left. Nowhere to hide, and no going back. He felt frozen with fear that Mike would pull away. Fear that Mike wouldn’t.
He waited.
He waited.
He waited.
Mike’s lips parted, barely. His jaw trembled, eyes searching wildly. Will suddenly braced himself for anything. Fear, disgust, confusion, pity, denial—
“Will,” Mike breathed.
And the way he said it. All soft and cracked open and gentle. It made Will’s lungs collapse.
“Why… why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
His tone wasn’t angry or confused. It was just soft.
And so, so full of something that Will couldn’t name without falling apart.
Will’s throat closed around every answer he had. “I— I was scared,” he whispered. “Of losing you.”
Mike’s face twisted like the words physically hit him. “Will,” he whispered again, closer this time, like he needed to be. “You could never lose me.”
An impossible exhale. Will smiled small as tears slipped loose. “No?”
“No— never. Never ever.” Mike moved onto his knees until he was level with Will’s face. “But…” His voice shook. “Is that what he meant? Vecna? When he said your mind doesn’t belong here?”
Will nodded.
Mike looked horrified.
“No. No, he doesn’t get to do that. He doesn’t get to twist that— he doesn’t get to make you feel like you’re wrong just for being—”
He stopped. Swallowed hard, like he couldn’t say that word just yet. Mike exhaled sharply, shaking his head like he was trying to clear fog from his thoughts.
Then he just hugged him. And Will let himself lean into it with every bit of love he harbored for him, for once not worrying about what it could imply.
“Can I—?” Mike asked into his shoulder, voice tiny.
Will blinked. “…what?”
Mike hesitated. Then, in the smallest voice Will had ever heard from him, “…can I sit up there with you?”
Will’s heart launched itself into his throat. He lifted the blanket just enough.
Mike climbed onto the couch carefully. He left barely a few inches of space between them. The heat from his body felt like contact. Will was so aware of him.
“…So you really… don’t like girls?”
Will’s stomach twisted. He wasn’t sure why the question hurt and comforted him at the same time.
“No,” he whispered.
Mike wet his lips. “At all?”
The hurt flickered harder in Will’s chest.
“No, Mike. Not… romantically.”
Mike’s brow furrowed, confusion softening into something else. Uncertainty, maybe. “But… not even once or even a little bit? I mean— you’ve really never—?”
“Mike.” Will’s voice came out sharper than he meant. He couldn’t help it. His nerves were already scraped raw, tears already falling. “No. Never. I know what I’m talking about, okay? I’m very sure of this.”
Mike blinked hard. “No— I’m not saying you aren’t, I didn’t mean it like that—”
But he had meant it like that, even if unintentionally. Will felt it. The doubt. The disbelief. Or maybe it wasn’t doubt.
Maybe it was Mike not wanting it to be real.
“Mike… be fully honest with me, are you upset that I’m—?” He couldn’t even finish.
Mike’s eyes flew wide, voice unsteady. “What? No!
“…You sure?”
“Yes. Will, you’re— you’re perfect.”
Will’s heart stopped.
Mike Wheeler just called him perfect, and in that voice.
It wasn’t fair. How was Will supposed to survive that? He already knew it would be replaying in his head for days, weeks, forever.
“I’m not…” Mike ran both hands through his hair, exhaling shakily. “I’m not doubting you. I swear I’m not. I’m just…” His voice thinned again. “…trying to wrap my head around it. I’m—”
He broke off, clearly frustrated with himself.
Will forced himself to speak over the buzzing panic in his stomach. “I— I know it’s a lot, and it’s okay if you’re confused… I just wanna know if you okay with—”
“Of course I’m okay with it,” Mike said automatically, voice thick with emotion and earnestness. “You’re my best friend. You always will be.”
Will smiled, relief slowly finding him again.
“I’m just asking because…” Mike swallowed “…because I’m overwhelmed. Just— overwhelmed.”
“Overwhelmed?”
“Yeah,” Mike whispered, water collecting in his eyes.
Will stared at him. He looked like he wanted to pour his entire heart out but didn’t know what words existed for it yet. And the ambiguity of it all was killing him.
“Can I… ask one more thing?”
Will hesitated. But nodded.
“Did you always know?”
Will felt something in him soften. This question felt different, honest and pure in a way the others hadn’t.
“I think so,” he exhaled. “I just didn’t have the words for it before. And I was scared to… confront it for a while.”
Mike’s face crumpled at that. Will could see thoughts forming behind his eyes, ones that he wasn’t sharing. “Well, you don’t have to be scared about around me. Okay?”
Will just nodded, letting himself believe it a little.
“I’m sorry I’m not better at… this. Talking. But please believe that. You’re so important, and I’m honored you shared this with me.”
Will finally felt himself exhaling entirely, finally let himself believe it. “Okay,” he whispered through a small smile. “Thank you, Mike. That truly means more than you know. You’re… you’re really important to me too.” He fought the urge to say I love you instead.
Mike let out a shaky laugh, barely there. “Of course. And listen, I’m not overwhelmed because of you, I’m overwhelmed because…”
His knee bumped Will’s in a way that was so careful and tender it had to be intentional. Will nearly forgot how to breathe.
“…because,” Mike said softly, “for me it felt like something clicked.”
Will froze.
Mike didn’t look away this time. His eyes were steady, shining a little, like he was fighting the urge to say too much.
Will’s mind buzzed with the thousands of things he could’ve said.
Before he could choose one, the basement door creaked open.
Lucas appeared, bright and breezy, completely unaware of the emotional wreckage on the couch.
“Will, you’re up!” he said, stopping short at how close the two of them were sitting.
Mike shifted back, instinct more than choice.
Lucas’s face softened, like what he'd just seen wasn't nothing. “Uh, sorry to interrupt… just— Mike, we were gonna go over the routes for today…?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah for sure,” Mike said quickly, standing so fast that Will felt the warmth of him vanish in one swift motion. He missed it instantly.
But Mike turned back, soft eyes. “I’ll be right back.”
Will nodded.
Mike lingered a beat too long before finally turning upstairs. The door clicked shut. And Will knew with blazing clarity that nothing between them would ever be the same.
He lay still beneath the blanket, staring at the empty space where Mike had just been, trying to gather the pieces of his heartbeat back into one rhythm.
The basement felt too quiet now, too full of everything that had happened. Everything that had almost happened.
It was too much to process, and each minute that passed only made it more overwhelming.
Eventually, a soft creak came from the stairwell.
Robin.
She slipped inside with the exaggerated stealth of someone who had absolutely been listening at the door. She closed it behind her with two fingers, wincing when it clicked too loudly as she made her way down.
“There you are,” she whispered.
His cheeks warmed instantly, happy to see she'd made it out okay after everything. “Hey.”
Her boots thudded softly on the carpet, the only sound in the basement besides Will’s thundering heartbeat.
Her smile only grew more mischievous at the look that was definitly still plastered all over his face. “You know you scared the absolute shit out of him?”
Will’s breath hitched. “…Mike?”
“Yes, Mike,” she deadpanned through a laugh. “It was like, world-ending panic. Pacing, running fingers through hair, a few tears. Very dramatic stuff.” Her face softened. “He also never left your side.”
“He didn’t?”
“Nope. Here, all night.” She sat at the table across from him. “He didn’t just worry, either. He’s been fangirling— ‘Will’s the most amazing ever’, ‘Will’s a sorcerer’, ‘Will saved me, Will’s so strong.’”
Will felt his cheeks redden. “Really?”
“Mhm.” Robin’s eyes glittered.
Will let out a shaky breath that could’ve almost been a laugh, sinking deeper into the couch. His heart felt too loud.
Robin watched him for a moment, then leaned forward a little. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Will couldn’t help his flustered smile. “I… something happened.”
Robin’s eyebrows lifted. “Something like… good something? Bad something?”
Will’s throat tightened. “Just… Mike.”
“Ah. Boy something.”
“Shhhh!” Will laughed.
“Come on! Tell me!”
He blushed, looked down. “Well… first, I told him I… you know… like boys.”
Robin didn’t gasp, didn’t even pretend to be surprised. She just grinned proudly and hugged him tight, showering him with genuine affirmations. The perfect reaction.
His smile grew into her shoulder. “…And then he said it felt like something… clicked.”
“Clicked?”
“Yeah.”
“So it went well?!”
“I mean…” Will could feel himself getting flustered. “Yeah. He said it was okay. Didn’t look upset or treat me different.”
“I think he’s a little more than not-upset.”
All Will could do was blush, hide his face.
“Signals, Will! He’s sending signals!”
Will just laughed, unsure of what to say. Because he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t felt them too.
It was an impossible phenomenon— sensing that the tension exists, knowing in his heart that it’s not just in his head, but still somehow unable to fully believe it.
“How do you know for sure, though?”
“Because, that boy is not subtle. When he’s scared, everyone knows. When he’s mad, everyone knows. When he’s… feeling something he doesn’t have words for yet—” She tilted her head, smiling gently. “Everyone knows. Even me, who’s hardly had a full conversation with him.”
Will laughed as she continued, “I especially know when he looks at you like you have all the answers.”
Will’s heart stuttered, not even able to deny that. “He does… stare sometimes.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Like he’s… confused.”
“No.” Robin’s smile softened. “Like he’s trying to figure out why you make him feel so safe and so overwhelmed at the same time.”
Will was hearing her, feeling it from him. But the doubt was still so strong, impossible to kill so quickly.
“I just don’t know. Because he also… kept asking.”
Robin tilted her head. “Asking what?”
“How and when I knew,” Will whispered. “If I was sure. Over and over.” He swallowed. “And I know he didn’t mean it in a bad way, but for a minute I thought maybe he didn’t want it to be true. Or that maybe he didn’t believe me. Or that he thought I was confused or—”
“Oh my god,” Robin said suddenly, sitting back with her whole face lighting up in recognition. “Will Byers.”
He startled. “What?”
She gestured at him with both hands. “That’s like, almost exactly what you asked me.”
Will blinked, thrown. “I— what?”
She imitated his voice, “‘how did you know Vickie wanted to date?’ ‘How obvious?’”
“I—"
“He wasn’t doubting you! He was trying to understand you and himself. The same way you tried to understand me.”
Will’s chest fluttered painfully. “I… I just don’t wanna misread him!”
“I really don’t think you are.”
“You sure?”
“I mean nobody can ever be fully sure, but come on. You told him something huge, and he didn’t run. He didn’t pull away. He wanted to understand. He got closer.” She wiggled her eyebrows at that. “I know he did.”
Will’s breath hitched. Of course she could guess.
He blushed again. “…Nothing really happened.”
“Nothing?”
“…He just… yeah, got close.”
“Define close.”
Will’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Like… close.” He gestured to the empty space right next to him on the couch. “Like his face was right here, and we hugged, and— yeah.”
Robin clapped her hands once, delighted. “So… flirting???”
It felt so insane to talk about this. He couldn't help his smile. “Maybe…?”
“No,” Robin said bluntly. “People lean in like that when they want you to notice something.”
Will’s breath caught. “Like… what?”
“That they like you.”
It felt like the air was knocked out of him. He couldn’t tell if the basement was getting hotter or if it was just him.
She lowered her voice. “Listen. I’ve seen people in love. I’m in love.” She blushed. “You're lying here with it alllll over your face, and your little ‘friend’ has it even worse.
Will’s chest felt too small, finally letting himself believe it a little. “…What do I do?”
Robin’s expression melted into something warm and firm at once. “You go for it.”
“Robin—”
“I’m serious. He’s not going anywhere.”
The words hit something soft inside him. Something trembling.
“You really think he…?”
Robin smiled. “I think he’s already halfway there. He just needs you to meet him. Start the avalanche.”
Will felt warmth build behind his eyes. And for a moment, he almost said yes. I’ll go for it.
But then he remembered Vecna’s words. He remembered all the danger that could come if he leaned into this part of himself in a way that existed beyond just him.
He didn't think to bring it up at first, when things with Mike only existed as a dream. But things were getting real.
It all came crashing down again.
“I… I can’t.”
“Yes you can—”
“No.” Will shook his head, voice trembling. “Vecna… he— he threatened me with it, okay? With this.”
Robin inhaled sharply, instantly serious. “What?”
“He said that minds like mine don’t belong in this world."
Her face fell, eyes flickering with pain and fury on his behalf. "You think by that, he meant…?"
Will nodded, throat tight. “Yes. He knew. He made me see it— all the times when it… hurt the most. And if I…” his voice cracked. “If I go for it with Mike, if I let myself feel this, doesn’t that just make me even more of a target? And Mike too? If Vecna comes back, he’ll use it against both of us. He already knows where to hit, and I can't risk that. And if Mike rejects me, it'll give him even more trauma to use against me.”
Robin didn’t speak right away.
Instead, she crossed and sat by him on the couch. “Listen,” she said softly, “that wasn’t a prophecy. Okay? That was just his usual cruelty.”
He looked up at her, helpless.
“He said those things to get to you,” she continued. “Because monsters, especially the ones in our heads, attack the places we already fear are unlovable.”
Will felt his breath suspended between them.
“Because loving someone how you love Mike? And letting yourself be loved back?" Robin said, voice thick with meaning, “it makes you powerful. And he's trying to make you scared because your strength scared him first."
Will felt a tear slip, uncontrollable.
“Vecna may have a lot of advantages in a lot of ways, but your love gives you something he’ll never have.”
“What?” Will whispered.
“Connection,” Robin said simply. “Hope. A reason to fight that isn’t fear." She pressed a hand over her heart. “He can’t get inside the part of you that belongs to someone else. Not if you don’t let him.”
Another tear fell, raw and filled with gratitude and warmth.
“And I’m not saying love will magically explode him into dust,” she said, rolling her eyes affectionately, “but turning the thing he tried to weaponize against you back on him? That’s how you win.”
A small, trembling laugh escaped Will. “My… love?”
Robin grinned. “Yeah. Your love. Your glowing, endlessly endearing gay love for Mike Wheeler.” She took his hand. “But your love for yourself, too. And your family. And this ridiculous group of idiots we call friends.”
Will's head fell a little, giggling through his tears.
And… yeah. As corny as it sounded— 'love being the answer,'— he supposed it was true. Love had been what saved him at the MacZ. Jonathan. His mom. Little him. Mike.
It all made sense now.
Robin squeezed his hand tighter. "Apply it all to your sick new powers, however you do that, and you'll kick his ass.”
Will nodded with certainty as more tears slipped down his cheeks before he could stop them.
Robin didn’t pretend not to notice. She just gently bumped her shoulder against his.
"If you’re scared… okay." She said softly. "Be scared. Feel what you feel. But don’t run because of him. Don’t hand Vecna the victory by hiding one of the most beautiful parts about you.”
Will inhaled sharply.
“And if Mike is running toward you,” she said, smiling, “maybe let him.”
Will squeezed her hand back, breath trembling. “…Okay.”
Robin stood just as footsteps sounded overhead. “See? I can already hear him stomping around up there pretending he’s not about to sprint back down here to check on you.”
Will playfully rolled his eyes, and she smirked back at him. “Take a breath. Remember he cares. And then you go for it. When you’re ready.”
Will nodded, more confident this time. “Okay.”
Robin winked, conspiratorial. “Good. Now if anyone asks, I was never here.”
She slipped out the door.
Will’s heart wasn’t beating any quieter—
But for the first time, it wasn't just from fear. He was hopeful. And he was ready.
Because Robin was right.
Mike Wheeler wasn’t running away.
He was running toward him.
⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄
The morning was still dawning and fresh when they relocated to the WSQK radio station basement. It had always been a barren and stark place, but it felt even starker with Will’s growing awareness of what needed to happen.
He needed to explain everything about Vecna— and yes, everything— to the entire group.
It was only a small cluster of them physically here— him, his mom, Mike, Lucas, Erica, and Robin, and techinically all the kids stationed upstairs, out of earshot. But everyone in the upside down was listening and contributing over walkie, so it may as well be everyone.
Lucas’s voice rang through the room and the mic. “I don’t know if he’s picking kids at random, but he didn’t used to. He targeted kids who were sensitive, isolated, going through something. Kids who were already seen as… not normal.”
The word normal snagged in Will’s chest. He folded his arms on the table, fingers laced together so tightly his knuckles were white.
Nancy’s voice chimed in over the radio, “Yes, he wants minds that are already off-balance. People who don’t fit.”
No one turned to stare, but Will felt the attention bend toward him anyway. Like they were all thinking about him and how it could apply.
Mike’s eyes kept flicking up from across the room every few seconds, checking on him, grounding him. Robin hovered close, hands twitching with protective readiness.
“It just doesn’t make sense, though,” Lucas continued. “The kids taken this time— I talked with their classmates and none of them noticed anything. I know that doesn’t prove they weren’t struggling, but… they’re just so young, too. Are they even old enough to have 'dark thoughts?'”
The floor under Will’s feet suddenly mattered a lot. His thoughts were plenty dark at that age.
And he knew he had to say it.
Don’t, an automatic voice in him whispered, cold and familiar. Don’t say it. You can’t fully trust everyone. Something will change and you’ll never get it back the way it was.
But a second, kinder voice came louder. You already lost the way it was. You already said it to the one who matters most, and it was okay.
It will be okay now. It will give you strength. It will give you a release.
Will leaned into the mic abruptly. “I know why he's targeting them. And why he chose me.”
The room stilled, and the channels went quiet.
Mike lifted his head immediately. “Will, you don’t have to—”
“I do.” Will surprised himself with the firmness in his voice. It trembled, but it held. “I’m doing this for me. I promise.”
His mom tensed with worry. Lucas shifted, Robin softened, and Mike froze entirely.
Will stood, letting himself claim it. “Vecna… last night he talked to me and said that kids are perfect vessels because they break easily. That I broke easily and… was weak.”
A small flinch came from Lucas, outrage and protective instinct, but Will pushed forward.
“At first I thought he meant… because of the Mind Flayer. Because I’m… connected.” The word tasted bitter. “But that’s not all he meant. It was personal, too. Like it was for Chrissy and Patrick and everyone else. So it probably is for these kids, too.”
"What else did he say to you?" Lucas asked gently, and Mike swatted his arm, as if not to push him.
It was a small moment, but enough for Will’s lips to twitch into the faintest smile. Because Mike was looking out for him.
He lifted his chin, no longer speaking an apology. He was done apologizing for himself, for everything that made him loving and loyal and powerful and different in a way he didn’t view as wrong anymore.
“He said my mind doesn’t belong in this world. That… I was already different before any of this. That I was already ‘wrong.’”
His heartbeat thudded against his ribs, but he didn’t back down or fold inward.
“I’m different,” he said again, stronger. “I had dark thoughts. Since I was little. And that’s part of why he went after me.”
He looked around, and no one showed fear, or disgust.
There was only love and concern.
He could do this.
“And it sucks,” he went on, “that the thing he thinks makes me breakable is the thing I’ve spent years trying to hide.”
He inhaled deeply. Let the next words rise from somewhere deep.
“So I’m saying this now to show that I’m not breakable.” His voice steadied into something new. “He thinks this part of me is a weakness. Something he can use. Something I should be ashamed of. But it isn’t. He’s wrong.”
He felt Robin’s presence beside him like a shield, Mike’s eyes on him like a lifeline.
Tears pricked hot at the corners of his eyes, but he didn’t break. Not this time.
“I—” He swallowed. “—I’m gay.”
Will exhaled. The word hit the room with weight and clarity, echoing in the walls, in the speakers, over the radios. For a moment, everything spun and stilled at the same time.
“And I— I’m not ashamed of it.”
Robin gazed at him with such pride and joy and recognition. And Mike had that look again.
Before panic from everyone else could grab him, he pushed forward:
“And I’m saying it now to all of you because it— it isn’t a weakness.” His voice grew firmer, even as it still shook. “I survived everything he’s done and harnessed those powers because of it, because of who I love. And I’ve realized now that…”
He looked at Robin. Looked at Mike.
“I’ve realized that it’s something beautiful.”
Robin smiled through her tears. Mike’s was even wider.
“It’s not what’s going to break me anymore. It’s what’s going to make me closer to you guys. And it’s what’s going to help me beat him.”
That last line didn’t tremble. It landed, fully.
His mom surged forward, pulling him into her arms with a choked cry. “Oh baby— baby, you don’t have to keep explaining yourself. You’re perfect. I love you so much. I’m so proud of you.”
Over the walkie, Jonathan’s voice cracked. “Yeah, Will. Jesus— I love you so much. I’m so fucking proud of you, you’re—” his tears took over.
Will let out a wet, startled laugh against his mom’s shoulder. He could hear his brother’s tears in every word. In that moment, it felt like just the three of them there. "You okay?"
"Yes— just—" Jonathan’s laugh wobbled through his own tears. "—How dare you tell me this when I can’t hug you?!”
Will was smiling so much it hurt. “Sorry.”
“No, no sorrys,” Jonathan said. “I love you so much, Will. It was never a weakness. All I see in you is strength.”
Will nodded against his mom’s shirt, as if Jonathan could see him through the static. She then pulled back just enough to cup his face. Her thumbs brushed tears from his cheeks before kissing his forehead.
“Thank you for trusting us,” she whispered. “You’ve always been brave. Always. And I will not let him use this against you, you hear me?”
“M-me neither,” El added softly through the crackle, her voice small but fierce. And god, Will wanted to hug her too. More than anything.
Even the more masculine voices chimed in, the ones Will had been the most unsure about. Steve’s gentle “hell yeah, little Byers,” Hopper’s rough “we got your back, kid”, Lucas’s “we love you so fucking much, man,” and even Dustin in background of someone else's walkie going, “DUDE, YES! SO PROUD!”
It was a whole other kind of relief.
But Robin— who looked like she was witnessing a revolution?
And Mike— who was staring at him like he'd just stepped into the person he was always meant to be?
Their reactions hit him the hardest.
They were why he could stand at all. They were why he’d finally said it.
They were why he could win.
⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄
They moved on quickly, thank god. They didn't have the time to smother Will with questions he wasn’t sure he was ready for and kept moving forward with a plan. A plan that revolved around three things: Protecting the most vulnerable kids, continue the hunt for Holly, and Will finding Vecna again.
That ended up translating to Will aimlessly wandering those woods until he ‘felt something’.
His mom and Erica stayed back at the station while the rest of them fanned out through the trees. Robin volunteered to “take the rear,” dragging Lucas with her and then slowing down so much they were practically a second, separate group. It was almost impressive how blatantly she kept creating distance.
Will was both deeply grateful and slowly dying inside.
The forest felt louder than usual. Not with monsters, just… everything else. Crunching leaves, wind rattling branches, the occasional startled bird. But mainly the pounding in his chest.
He kept replaying what he’d finally admitted on three separate occasions now, and he could hardly breathe from how close Mike was walking in spite of it. Or maybe because of it.
Their arms brushed occasionally. Will could feel Mike’s breath when he turned his head, and his heart had given up trying to regulate itself.
Eventually, he spoke.
"Hey,”
Will looked at him, all ears. Mike took a breath. “I just… wanted to say that I’m really proud of you.”
The words stunned Will so completely he stumbled slightly. Mike noticed and moved half an inch closer like his whole body wanted to help steady him.
“Really?” Will breathed.
“I— I mean, yeah. Obviously. You’re like, the strongest person I know. You know that, right?”
Will snorted softly. “That’s definitely not true.”
“Yes, it is?” Mike shot back, earnest to the point of painful. "I mean— I know you were scared. Anyone would be. But you stood there. You said it.”
Will blinked, throat tight.
Mike continued, voice softer. “You should just know how brave that was.”
“Brave?” Will glanced sideways, something teasing that surpised even himself. “I was shaking the whole time.”
“So?” Mike shrugged, kicked a rock. “Being brave isn’t not shaking. It’s… doing it anyway.”
Will’s breath caught. "Well… thank you."
"Of course."
“Seriously. Thank you. Your reaction… meant a lot. I don’t think I would’ve been able to tell the others without you.”
Mike just looked at him, all the tenderness in the world in his eyes. “I think you can do anything.”
Wills heart would need a good couple of months to recover from that one.
They walked in brief silence from there, the forest humming around them.
Then Mike cleared his throat. “Um… I know this might be another weird question but… can I ask something else?”
Will huffed a tiny laugh. “You keep asking permission like I’m gonna say no.”
He could’ve sworn Mike’s cheeks pinkened a little at that. “Right. Yeah, sorry, I just don’t wanna push, I guess.”
“You’re not,” Will murmured. “Ask.”
"Okay.” Mike smiled nervously. “Uhm. When you were saying all that, you said your powers came from who you love, so… I was just wondering…" Mike hesitated, scuffing his shoe against the dirt. “Do you… like someone? Right now?”
Will froze.
He knew what Mike was really asking.
The old version of him would’ve swallowed the question whole. Panicked, denied everything, changed the subject with a clumsy joke.
But this version didn’t shrink away.
His voice trembled, gathering confidence. “…Yeah.”
Mike’s inhale was soft, almost nervous. “Is it… someone I know?”
Will forced himself to look at him. Straight into the swirl of fear and longing in Mike’s eyes.
“Yeah.”
Mike’s breath stuttered.
“Okay.” he whispered, voice shaking with something dangerously close to understanding. Every second that passed between them felt electric. “Are you gonna… tell me who?”
Will’s chest constricted. His pulse roared. His mouth went dry.
Because he could. He could. The moment was right there, hovering between them like a held breath.
But his voice caught. His courage flickered just enough.
“I…” He looked away, cheeks warming. “…Maybe later.”
Mike’s face fell just enough to be noticeable before he hid it. But he nodded supportively. “Okay. Yeah, later. Whenever you want.”
He didn’t step away. He stepped closer.
Their shoulders brushed again, slow and equally savored. The kind of movement you couldn't pretend was an accident.
So Will brushed back, just barely. Testing Flirting.
Mike inhaled softly, a faint noise escaping him. And then Mike spoke like he was physically unable to stay silent any longer.
“Will? If… if the boy you like…” he was standing so close that Will could feel the warmth of him against the cold air. “…If you ever wanted to tell him…”
Will felt his breath stop.
“…I think he’d want to know.”
Mike’s eyes dropped, just barely, to Will’s lips.
It wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t an accident. It couldn’t be, not if either of them had any sanity left.
Mike leaned a fraction more, their noses almost touching now, and the world around them fell quiet. Will didn’t even care if Robin or Lucas could see— and even better— it appeared Mike didn’t either.
“Mike…” Will whispered. Not uncertain or scared or hesitant.
Ready.
They were so, so close.
But before anything could happen—
It happened again.
His body seized, his lungs stopped, his vision snapped into a different world.
Red veined darkness, burning static, screlting sounds.
Will dropped to his knees, hands slamming into leaves and pine needles that scattered the ground—
He should’ve felt their texture beneath his palms, but his senses were slipping. He didn’t feel the forest, or even the normal effects of a demogorgon.
He felt him.
Vecna’s presence, crashing into him like a breaking wave.
Whispers slithered thick, all around him. “ꜰᴏᴏʟɪꜱʜ ʙᴏʏ.”
Will’s breath vanished.
“ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʟʟ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ?” A rasped chuckle, sharp and low.
Something icy wrapped around Will’s ribs, squeezing until spots burst behind his eyelids. He tried to turn away— but visions didn’t have directions.
“Th— They do.” Will choked out.
“ɴᴏ.”
“They— love me— no matter what. That’s— something you— will never— understand.”
“ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴛʀᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇᴍ.”
Will opened his mouth to argue more against his blatant lies. But suddenly, he was met with an image of Mike. Not real Mike. Vision Mike.
He was lying wounded in empty darkness. Skin gray, almost like he was dead, eyes bloodshot from crying. He was staring at Will with a level of hurt and betrayal that made him physically sick.
Blood scattered his entire body, and Will looked down to find the same blood on his hands. As if he’d been the one who had done this to him.
Will gagged on a sound. He cried out, but the noise was swallowed.
Vecna’s voice curled into his ear. “ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ꜱᴇᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰɪɴᴀʟ ꜰᴏʀᴍ. ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴅᴏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴇ. ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍɪɴᴇ.”
Will gasped.
Mike’s real hands were on him now, warm and human. He could barely feel them, but they were there, grabbing Will’s shoulders and steadying him.
His voice was muffled, “Will! Will, hey— hey, look at me— GUYS, OVER HERE!”
But Vecna’s breath was still on his neck.
“ʜᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴠᴇꜱꜱᴇʟ,” Vecna whispered, “ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ.”
Will froze.
“ꜱᴏᴏɴ… ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴏɴʟʏ ʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ. ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ.”
Mike’s voice cut through the fog, frantic and cut up in pieces. “Will, pl—ease—snap out of— c’mon—Will, come ba—”
Vecna's cold, demented left hand brushed the back of his neck in the vision. Will’s real body lurched.
“No,” Will choked. He wasn’t sure which world the word came out in. “Stop— stop—”
His breath tore out of him, sharp and broken.
“ʜᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ɪɴꜱɪᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍ,” Vecna hissed. “ʜᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ. ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴀᴡᴀʏ. ꜱᴏ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ꜰɪɢʜᴛ ɪᴛ. ᴊᴏɪɴ ᴍᴇ.”
Will shook violently, tears burning down his face.
“STOP—” he gasped, voice cracking.
And then—
The vision cracked, shattered like glass.
The forest flooded back into view, color, light, cold air. Mike’s knees hit the dirt in front of him.
Mike, real Mike, and Robin and Lucas all at his side, each with a hand on his back. All three of their voices overlapped in an overwhelming rush.
“Will—?”
“Jesus Christ—”
“Hey—hey—”
“Will, come back—”
Mike clutched him with both hands firm and shaking on Will’s arms, then his shoulders, then face, jaw, cheekbones, touching him like he needed confirmation he was solid.
Will’s mind zeroed in on Mike’s voice above the others. “Will— hey— hey, look at me—”
Will raised his head just barely. Mike’s eyes were huge, terrified, glassy with a threat of tears he wasn’t even trying to hide.
“What— what did you see?” Mike asked, and his voice. It completely tore down the center.
Will blinked, trying to clear the last of the static from his eyes. He felt like his nerves were on fire. His whole body trembled with racing pulses.
He tried to speak. Nothing came out. He shook his head hopelessly, still heaving hard.
Mike’s hands kept grounding him. “Please, Will. Try.”
Will swallowed, throat raw. He managed to let out one broken word, “Vecna.”
Robin sucked in a breath through her teeth.
Lucas swore under his breath, scrambling for his walkie. “Guys— guys, Will had a vision from Vecna, someone get over here— NOW—”
Mike didn’t let him go. Fear flashed across his face, but then something else tightened behind it. Determination.
“Okay,” he whispered, voice low but strong. “We’re gonna figure this out. You’re okay. I’m right here.”
Mike then pulled him in, wrapping both arms around Will and hugging him tight.
Will stiffened, just for a second. Then he melted into Mike’s chest, fists curling into the fabric of his jacket, forehead pressing to his shoulder. Their heartbeats thundered against each other.
He caught Robin exhaling shakily, her eyes softening with a kind of understanding that hurt to look at.
Lucas swallowed hard and stood, giving them space, turning away but staying close enough that he could spring back if needed.
And Mike only held him tighter, voice breaking in his ear. “Whatever he told you, it’s not true.”
Will’s breath shuddered.
He really hoped not. But the fear wouldn't leave him. He wasn't sure if it ever would.
He had been wrong this whole time, thinking that the worst possible outcome was Mike or the others rejecting him.
The actual worst was what he’d just seen— Mike, hurt and wounded and broken because of him.
He would seriously rather die before it ever got to that point. He wouldn't be able to live with himself otherwise.
Mike pulled back just enough to take Will’s face in his shaking hands— then hesitated, realizing just intimate it was. He pulled away a little.
But Will leaned into it.
And that was all Mike needed.
He cupped Will’s face again, firmer and deliberate. “I won’t leave your side until he’s dead and gone,” he whispered. “Okay?”
Robin looked down, swallowing something emotional. Lucas blinked hard, pretending he wasn’t scared.
And Will wasn’t sure if he believed it would all work out.
But for now, with Mike’s hands on his face, with his voice breaking for him, he let himself believe it just for a moment.
Just long enough to breathe again.