Work Text:
Will Byers was happy. At least, that's what he told himself. He buried his head in his studies, working on his art. He had a boyfriend but it wasn't the man he…truly loved. His boyfriend Carlton was a polite enough guy but the reason Will agreed to date him at all was the dark hair framing the freckles of his face. It wasn't the right shade of black nor the correct amount of freckles, but it was close enough that Will could pretend. If only for a moment.
Will enters the lobby of the dorm building and goes to check his mail. He opens the box and finds some of the normal garbage and then, there are a few letters from his friends. Dustin, Lucas and… Mike. He gasps lightly as he grabs it. He was very delighted to get a letter from Mike….He pulls his mail against his chest and closes the mailbox. The walk to his dorm is long and the letters felt heavy in his hands. He tries to think of the last time Mike had sent him a letter. Or called. Or…reached out at all. He draws a blank… Well…at least he has a new letter from Mike.
He enters his dorm room and tosses the mail on his desk. It lands on top of his art supplies. Half finished sketches and exercises. The desk littered with charcoal and pencils that he had forgotten to put away. There was still water in his paint cup that he'd yet to empty, stained a deep brown from the mix of colors he’s used. He ignores all of that to fish Mike's letter off the top. The letter was light and yet felt impossibly heavy in his hands. He opens it and reads the letter.
Dear Will,
By the time you receive this letter, I will already be dead. There are many things I wish to tell you. Things that should follow me to the grave. Still. I want you to know.
Do you remember when you came out to me and the party? I was so happy because there was hope. Hope for me. You see I was madly in love with you. It took me too long to realize but when I did I broke up with El. So when you told us you were gay I thought maybe I'd have a chance. But then you said you used to have a crush on someone and I realized I was too late. You'd already moved on without me. I don't blame you, I was a massive jerk to you. All those times we fought, it was always because of me. I hate myself for the pain I caused you. I know your boyfriend will treat you well and give you the love you deserve.
I don't want you to blame yourself for my choice. It isn't your fault. I just can't continue anymore. I tried, you know, to keep going. To push through my pain. To bottle it all up and move forward. But, there has never been anyone else I love quite like you. In the end it is only my fault. I isolated myself to the point it was just me and this gun. I never imagined that after all we've been through that this is the way I'd die but, I guess it's better for me to choose this for myself. And it'll be wonderful.
Don't worry about telling my family, I've sent them letters as well. They don't know why I did it though. Only you will know the truth. I want you to move on and be happy. I want you to have a wonderful life with your boyfriend. I know you're going to make beautiful art one day.
One last confession, I kept a binder of your drawings with me. Always. Nothing however compares to your painting. I talked to El when we broke up, she said you lied to me and I understand now. You were confessing and I was too stupid to see that. So fucking stupid. I treasure it…it's my most valuable possession. It deserves to be displayed in an art gallery rather than my dorm room. Maybe it will be now that I'm dead. You deserve the world and more Will. Just, not with me still in it.
Now that I'm dead, I can't hurt you or anyone else ever again. I want you to be happy. So be happy! I know no one pays me any mind, not anymore, but that's okay. I love you guys. I love you Will. I was just never good at expressing that. I had to say goodbye because if I didn't the guilt would kill me long before the bullet does. I've already fucked up so many times, so let me get this one thing right.
Love,
Mike
Will was shaking, his body shuddering with sobs. The tears in his eyes made it hard to read. He wanted to believe it was fake. It couldn't be real. But that was Mike's careful handwriting. Will knows his handwriting because of the special way he dots his i's and crosses his t's. It was loopy in a way that was beautiful and perfect. No. No. Mike can't be dead. He refuses to believe that. Mike wouldn't leave him. Not like this. But the facts were staring him in the face with a vicious glare that had his stomach twisting into harsh painful knots. He couldn't remember the last time he talked to Mike, he hadn't even noticed his calls and letters getting more and more scarce as the months passed. It's been 2 months of nothing from Mike and he never once thought to reach out?
No, no, no. There is no way Mike is dead. Mike wouldn't do this. He wouldn't. Will wasn't sure when he started but he was screaming. He was angry. His heart welled so full for emotion and the one that stood out the most was grief. A feeling he thought he'd gotten used to. But no. Never had he imagined he'd be losing Mike. Not like this. Never like this. He was so fucking angry and he started tearing into his room. Pencils and papers hit the floor and paint spilled from tubes thrown too hard at the wall leaving large shatters of color. He throws his sketchbook into the wall so hard the spine snaps and the book lands ungracefully on its pages.
His whirlwind was cut short as the phone rang, the one his mom had gifted him. He ran over and pulled it to his ear “Mike?!” He prayed. He hoped. Please let it be him.
“N-no. It's Nancy.” The broken voice of the older girl said
Will didn't need to know what she was calling about. He already knew. He screamed and threw the phone so hard at the wall that it took a chuck with it as the phone broke in two. His legs finally gave out and he was left fisting the carpet as the only thing keeping him attached to reality. A reality he despises.
He had killed Mike. It was him and his stupid lie about Tammy. He had lied when he said he was over Mike, but he never imagined that Mike would like him back. He didn't even know Mike and El had broken up. He never saw what Mike was going through. What would've changed if things had been different? If after Vecna died and the upside down collapsed, the two of them had started to date. Would they be happier?
He didn't even need to ask.