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It had been a week.
A week since they had thought they had defeated Vecna. A week since the whole fucking town split into four – an 'earthquake' they called it, but Lucas knew better. A week since Hawkins lost at least twenty three of its citizens. A week since he had watched Jason's body dissolve and split in half. A week since he had promised Max they'd go to the movies together.
A week since he watched Max's bones break as she was suspended in the air, utterly defenseless.
A week since she died in his arms.
A week since she was brought back to him just to be taken away again.
A whole week since she slipped into a coma. Since she had shown any signs of life.
Lucas hadn't gotten more than a solid hour of sleep since. He'd spent every spare moment of his time by her bedside, reading to her and playing all of her favorite music. He had even gotten Erica to run out to get her a new Walkman, sitting there with her Kate Bush tape at the ready for when she woke.
She had to wake up. Lucas couldn't accept a reality where she wouldn't. And Lucas had accepted a lot – monsters, girls with superpowers and shaved heads, his town being swallowed whole by an alternate dimension – but this was his limit.
He couldn't imagine a life worth living without Max in it.
Spring break was now officially over, but Lucas hadn't gone back to school yet. His parents were trying to be understanding – Erica, too – but he knew it was about time they made him do something other than rotting at Max's bedside; showering half as much as he used to, skipping meals unless one of the nurses took pity on him and brought him something to eat, sitting in silence for hours at a time and staring at Max's fingers, and tricking his mind into seeing them twitch.
Of course, he wasn't Max's sole visitor.
Her mother came as often as she could, between shifts and with alcohol on her breath. Lucas tried not to judge, but it proved hard. He knew it hadn’t been easy for her, losing her home and potentially her daughter in one fell swoop, but he wished that the first thing Max would notice when she woke wouldn’t be the pungent smell of her mother’s boozy breath.
Steve and Robin came by with a stack of Robin's battered Stephen King novels, remembering that those were Max's favorite after the girls had bonded over them one day that previous summer. Lucas had been reading them to her as often as he could, already having gotten a decent amount through The Talisman . To give him credit, Steve had been stopping by pretty regularly, promoting himself from his usual babysitter role to more of a big brother one for Max. God knows Billy wouldn't have done the same.
El – who was technically supposed to be in hiding – had come by twice; once with Mike, Will, Jonathan, and Nancy, and once with Hopper. Lucas could see her using her powers both times, but she didn't say anything about it, so neither did he. It was useless anyway.
Erica hadn't seemed to leave his side, either, only going home when Lucas begged her to so that his parents wouldn't throw a fit about their eleven-year-old being out all day and night. God knows he was already pushing it by being out himself.
And his party – his three best friends in the world – dropped by every day. If it had been in different circumstances, it would've been nice to be all together again – after all, Will had been gone all year, and Lucas had been too wrapped up in high school bullshit to prioritize Dustin or Mike – but he couldn't shake the feeling that Max's coma was the only thing bringing them together nowadays.
Well, that and the impending doom brought by the Upside Down's atmosphere bleeding into their own. But, in all honesty, that was the least of Lucas' worries right now. He'd let the whole town burn if it meant that Max was okay. And maybe that was selfish of him, but he honestly couldn't bring himself to think otherwise.
It was around midday when Lucas heard the click of the hospital room door opening, signaling to him that one of Max’s many visitors was there. He’d assumed it was Steve on his lunch break or Max’s mother dropping by between shifts, but was surprised to see Will standing there alone, twiddling his thumbs in the doorway.
It wasn’t unusual for Will to be there, but it was unusual for him to be alone. Lucas had reminded himself that school had started back up that day and that the Byers were still stuck in limbo – with all of their stuff still in California while their hearts and minds were in Hawkins.
Lucas got up from his chair for the first time in hours, legs stiff beneath him, and hugged his best friend, letting Will’s arms engulf him. Will's hugs were always tighter than Mike's or Dustin's; more intentionally comforting and sincere. It was something Lucas had almost forgotten about him.
“Thanks for coming,” Lucas said with as much of a smile as he could muster.
It was something he had been saying without thinking without it, his brain going into auto-pilot mode whenever anyone arrived. It felt weird to speak on Max’s behalf, but somebody had to do it. If it had to be Lucas, so be it.
“Of course,” Will said, pulling away but keeping a supportive hand on Lucas’ shoulder. “I figured you could use some company, you know, with Mike and Dustin being back at school. Any updates?”
Lucas shook his head without saying a word. There really wasn't anything to say, and there hadn't been for days.
"She's got this," Will reassured him, sweet hazel eyes looking into his. "Trust me, Lucas. If any of us can pull through something like this, it's Max."
Lucas wanted to believe him. He really, truly did.
God, Max was strong as hell, but this wasn't something she could fight her way out of by blasting Running Up That Hill . Believe him, he had tried so many times that he had begun to hate the song. The one that used to seem like Max's Get Out of Jail Free card, but now just made obvious how little say Lucas actually had on whether Max lived or died.
It wasn't fair. Max didn't deserve to be stuck in limbo like this.
Lucas migrated back over to his chair the first second he could – a force of habit he had developed over the past week. He needed to be by Max's side as often as he could, just in case she woke up. He wanted to be the first thing she saw when she did so. If she could even see at all, that is. If that happened, he'd just squeeze her hand tight and make sure she knew he was there, anyway.
Will had taken the seat next to his, keeping a comfortable distance so as to not suffocate him. Will always had a sort of sixth sense when it came to that stuff, knowing when enough was enough when someone was hurting. If Lucas had had the same ability, maybe he’d be able to spend more than an hour away from Max at a time.
It dawned on Lucas at that moment that he and Will hadn’t had a solo conversation in quite some time, even before his move to California. And, sure, they had exchanged a handful of letters in the beginning, but that was it. It was disheartening, really. After all, he had known Will almost his whole life.
How did Lucas always manage to let the people he loved slip through his fingers?
He took the time to look at Will, to really look at him. He still looked like the Will he’d always known – the same haircut, the same affinity for plaid clothing, and the same (only slightly concerning) contemplative look on his face – yet he had unquestionably grown, shoulders broadening and face maturing. He had only been gone eight months, but it seemed like so much longer.
It was crazy to think that there was a point in his life – that day at the quarry, to be exact – where Lucas thought Will would stay twelve forever. Yet here he was at fifteen. Still here.
Will, who kept casting glances towards Max in the hospital bed, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt as he did so (a nervous habit of his Lucas was accustomed to).
“It’s weird to see her like this, huh?” Lucas asked, filling the dense silence in the room. That was usually Max’s job. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her sit still for more than a few minutes before. She’s always had so much energy.”
Or she did. Before Billy, at least, but Will hadn’t been around to see the fallout of that. He’d rather not remind himself of those times.
“She isn’t our Zoomer for nothing,” Will responded with a hint of a laugh.
Lucas hadn’t heard that title for a while. “Yeah, Zoomer .”
Silence fell between them once again, and Lucas listened as Will’s breath hitched in his chest. He let out a slow exhale before he spoke again.
“I almost feel like… like I shouldn’t be here, you know?” Will’s voice returned, uneasy and almost hesitant. “Like before, Max and I, we were friends, right? But I was so wrapped up in my own shit when she moved here that I don’t feel like I actually got to know her all that well.”
Only Will Byers would feel guilty about being possessed by an interdimensional monster.
While Lucas didn’t know how Max’s mind worked – or if it even still worked – he knew for certain that she wouldn’t grudge Will for that. In fact, he knew that Max just wanted the best for Will during that time despite not knowing him as well as the others.
“No, I think she’d want you to be here,” Lucas reassured him, knowing her well enough to make that assumption. “She might not be the best at showing it, but Max cares about you a lot, Will. Trust me.”
It’s then when a metaphorical light bulb goes off in Lucas’ head, and he gets up from his chair and heads over to Max’s nightstand.
Buried within the pile of battered Stephen King books are the letters Lucas had left in his jacket pocket that day when Vecna had first made an attempt for Max’s life. One for himself. One for Mike. And one for Will.
He pulled out the one with Will’s name scrawled on the envelope and held it out for him, arm outstretched. Will looked at the letter and then back at Lucas, eyebrows knitted together.
“She wrote this for you. Before the whole Vecna incident, she wrote one for all of us,” he explained, the memory so painful it made him wince ever so slightly. “She asked me to keep it safe so I could send it to you if– if the worst happened.”
Will nodded, tears filling up his eyes as he took it from him. “ Oh . Oh, okay. Thank you. That’s… that was really nice of her.”
He knew Will didn’t know what to say. The other boy just studied the envelope, running his fingers over where Max had written his name.
“Can I…” Will trailed off, hesitant to speak. He looked back up at Lucas, eyes soft. “Can I open it?”
Now, that’s where Lucas was at a crossroads. He wanted nothing more than to read his, but he couldn’t. Not when there was still a possibility – as slim as it was – that Max could wake up and say whatever she had needed to say to him in person. It felt dishonest, like he was sneaking a present before Christmas knowing that he may have just needed to wait that little bit longer.
So, he shook his head in a slow movement. “Not until the worst happens.”
“ If the worst happens,” Will corrected.
“Yeah. If .”
Careful not to make too big of a crease, Will folded the envelope over on itself and put it in his back pocket. It was probably less tempting that way.
Lucas sucked in a breath and glanced back over at Max, staring at her chest with the hope that it was still rising and falling. He had become so accustomed to paying attention to the little details, being able to do so due to her lack of motion; the million different shades of red in her hair and how they glowed in the afternoon light, the faint scattering of freckles over her nose that you had to really pay attention to her to see, and soft wrinkles on the joints of her fingers.
He wasn’t sure how long his eyes had been stuck on her, but he supposed they wouldn’t have moved for hours if the familiar uneasy voice of Will hadn’t interrupted him.
“Lucas?”
Lucas stiffened at the sound of his name. “Yeah?”
“This is probably the most stupid, obvious question in the world, but are you okay? I mean, of course, you’re not, but I just… I don’t like the thought of you being here alone all day,” Will’s voice was laced with concern. And for good reason, he knows that. “And I just need you to know that if you, like, need somebody right now, I’m here. Or if you need an afternoon off to, like, clear your head or something, I can stay here with Max.”
While Lucas appreciated it, really he did, he just wasn't the one Will should be concerned about right now. Not when Max–
“Will, this isn’t about me,” he responded, a little bit too blunt for his own liking. “We don’t know if Max is going to wake up. Let’s focus on that.”
“Lucas, she wouldn’t want you to–” Will began, but was quickly cut off before he got the chance to finish.
"Don’t speak for her like she's dead!" Lucas snapped, voice raised and full of agitation. His nerves were well and truly frayed from the sleep deprivation, meaning that his temper had been considerably shortened. "Because she's not. She's not . She's still in there, I know it."
Will looked as if he had just been slapped across the face, taken aback by Lucas’ sudden outburst. Immediately, he went into defense mode. “You’re right, she is. I just think she’d appreciate it if you looked after yourself half as much as you were looking after her right now.”
Lucas couldn’t argue with that. He hadn’t exactly been taking care of himself, and he knew Max would kill him herself if he wasted away on her account. Still, self-care was a lot easier said than done, especially when he thought so little of himself right now.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Lucas said, voice small and apologetic. He shouldn’t have lashed out like that, and he had regretted it the second it left his mouth. “I’m just exhausted, Will. I’m just… I’m here all day – reading to her, begging her to come back to us – and nothing’s changing. And I just wish there was something I could do to help her. But nothing’s working, Will. Nothing .”
Before he knew it, hot, salty tears were streaming down Lucas’ face and he released a choked sob. His chest ached, feeling as though it was about to collapse from the lack of air getting to it. Will pulled him in for another sincere hug, letting Lucas dampen his shirt with tears.
“It’s okay,” Will told him, voice reassuring as ever. “It’s not your fault.”
“But it is,” he splutters into Will’s chest. “I should’ve been there with her music. I should’ve gotten rid of Jason the second I could. Hell, I shouldn’t have gotten involved with those guys in the first place. I shouldn’t have pushed Max away for them.”
“ Lucas .” Will had pulled away just enough to look Lucas straight in the eye, but still had his hands firmly planted on both of his shoulders. His eyes were watery but filled with sincerity nonetheless. “It wasn’t your fault. Dustin filled me in, and I promise you there was nothing — and I mean nothing — you could’ve done differently. Max was already hurting, and he took advantage of that. You’ve done everything you could’ve.”
Lucas had no choice but to take his word for it, even though that sneaky, unshakable feeling at the back of his mind wanted to convince him otherwise, Will knew what he was talking about. After all, he knew how Vecna thought. How he preyed on who he deemed the weak… even Will himself.
But Will had surprised him, and maybe Max would too. She had to.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” Lucas told Will, meaning both in Hawkins and in the hospital room itself. “And I’m sure Max would tell you the same thing if she could. The party, it isn’t the same without you in it. We might not be your cool new California friends, but I hope you missed us, anyway.”
Lucas watched as a smile spread across Will’s face, tears rolling off his cheeks as his muscles tensed. “California, it was fine and all, but it was missing one important thing.”
“Interdimensional monsters?”
Will laughed. “You guys.”
“Close enough.”
Lucas wiped his cheeks and pulled away from his best friend, getting rid of the tears that had stuck there. While he had spoken to Will multiple times over the past week, it wasn’t the same as talking one on one. They weren’t spoken over by Dustin, or bitched at by Mike, or even lovingly humbled by Steve. It was just him and Will.
Will, who Lucas was now realizing had shifted from his usual quiet self to a completely different type of quiet since he had returned from California. It was a more reserved, withdrawn type of quiet, reminding him of when he held his tongue about the extent of his Mind Flayer episodes.
Somehow he knew it wasn’t connected to the Upside Down this time – that it was more personal than that – and he had seen it more so when Dustin and Mike were around than now.
It couldn’t have been Dustin’s fault because they hadn’t seen each other in a while, and even then Dustin was a Never Go to Bed Angry sort of guy. He’d never mess things up with one of his best friends and not figure it out. Especially not for eight months .
So, that just left Mike, which made sense since they had just traveled cross-country together. There were bound to be a couple of arguments along the way, it was only natural. Especially when one of them was Mike Wheeler.
Yet whatever it was seemed to be weighing on Will, even with everything else going on. And Lucas would be a pretty shitty friend if he didn’t at least try and reach out to Will about his problems after sobbing on his shoulder a matter of minutes earlier about his own.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Lucas began, not quite sure where he was going with it, “what’s going on with you and Mike? Did you guys, like, have a fight in California?”
Will sucks in a breath through his teeth, looking increasingly tense by the second. “I mean, yeah, we did. We figured it out, though.”
He wasn’t too convincing. Lucas knew Will well enough to know when he was lying, and he was pretty sure this was no exception.
“Are you sure? Because it still seems pretty tense to me.”
Will released a slow exhale, like he purposely had to regulate his breathing, and he stared down at his sneakers as if he could no longer look Lucas in the eye. Oh, so there really was something. Shit .
“Yeah, that’s my fault,” his voice returns, smaller than before. “I made things weird.”
Lucas couldn’t help but see the irony in the situation; how Will had just convinced Lucas that Max’s comatose state wasn’t his fault, and now he was blaming himself for whatever was going on with Mike. He didn’t believe it. As much as Lucas loved Mike, he was normally the problem when it came to this sort of stuff.
“Will, what did you–”
Will didn’t let him finish, voice coming out in a rush. “It’s nothing.”
If Lucas wasn’t suspicious before, he definitely was now. He knew Will well enough that shutting down was always his first response when something was bothering him. Denying again and again even though everyone else could see that he was lying about it.
And it was Max’s, too, he had seen that over the past few months. While he hadn’t been able to stop Max from falling off the deep end (thanks to that Vecna freak), there was still time for Will. There had to be.
“You can talk to me, you know?” Lucas said, feeling as though he was stating the obvious. Still, Will had to hear it, even if it was just a gentle reminder. “I know we haven’t seen each other in a while but you’re still my best friend. Nothing’s changed, Will.”
Will shook his head in a slow, repetitive manner, as if he was trying to clear his thoughts. For a second, Lucas wasn’t sure if he was denying that they were still best friends or the fact that nothing had changed between them. He hoped for the latter.
“ Everything’s changed,” he replied in a flat, matter-of-fact tone. “With me, at least. And it’s not gonna go back to the way it was. Not once…”
Lucas waited a few seconds for Will to finish his sentence, but it never came. His lips stayed in a half-open expression, refusing the move.
“Will?” he pressed.
“Do you ever feel like you’re faulty or something? Like one of those toys with a drawstring that doesn’t pull back, or an Atari with a controller that isn’t wired quite right. You press left and it goes right.”
Lucas felt frown lines form on his forehead as he tried to decipher this. The funny thing was, he knew exactly what Will was talking about; it was more of the fact that Lucas wasn’t the only one that felt that way that was puzzling him.
Will feels like that, too? How is that possible?
“Will, look at me. I feel that way just about every day of my life.” It wasn’t that he wanted Will to locate a single feature – a crooked tooth, an unfortunate pimple, or even a facial feature slightly unsymmetrical to the rest of his face – but more so his entire being. His skin . The thing that set him apart from the majority of the town’s population, and that had caused him so much grief in his younger years with racist assholes like Troy and James pointing out his differences. It wasn’t something that Lucas had ever admitted before, at least not to one of his friends. His white friends. “So whatever you want to say – whatever it is, Will – I might not relate, but I get what it’s like to be different on a fundamental level.”
Will finally looked back towards Lucas, meeting his eyes and giving him an empathetic look. Like Lucas said, he didn’t relate but apparently he could understand the principle on some abstract level. Lucas’ last statement had applied to both of them, really. It’s not like Will knew what it was like to be like Lucas, and Lucas was beginning to think that he had been understanding who Will was less and less, too.
Will took in another slow, shaky breath. “You know that stuff they used to say about me, like Troy and the rest of them? The names they’d call me.”
Will had been called a lot of names in his life, so many that Lucas could barely remember half of them. He bet Will could, though. They probably never left his mind.
“What, like, the Zombie Boy stuff?”
“No, before then. That I was…” Will cut himself off, like he couldn’t say it. He took another breath and tried again. “That I liked…”
He went silent again, the breath catching in his throat. Whatever he was referring to, it was clearly a sore spot for him.
It was then that Lucas realized what he was trying to say. Those names.
“That you liked guys?” Lucas asked, finishing for him.
“Yeah.”
Another beat of silence.
“What about it?”
Lucas watched as guilt overtook Will’s expression, how his lips set into a tight line like he wanted to keep them shut forever.
“They weren’t… wrong.”
Oh .
In all honesty, Lucas wasn’t sure how to react to that. The fact that Will liked boys. That he was… gay ?
Will was gay.
There had always been that possibility in the back of Lucas’ mind, but he never thought he’d actually get confirmation for it. After all, sometimes he couldn't help but wonder if there was any validity to the bullies’ claims. That had always made him feel guilty, like he was just as bad as whoever had said it in the first place. So, he had always given Will the benefit of the doubt whenever he got a little too defensive over the rest of them having girlfriends.
But if it was true–
It shouldn’t matter, he knows that. In the grand scheme of things, who gives a shit if Will doesn’t like girls? If he did, it wouldn’t piece the town back together, or get rid of this Vecna asshole, and it sure as shit wouldn’t bring Max back.
So, why should it matter? So what if Will Byers liked guys? The world was still spinning, as far as Lucas could tell.
“Oh. Right,” Lucas finally said, urged by the damn near terrified look Will was giving him. He didn’t want to make him feel that way, even if his mind was running at twice its usual speed trying to process what he had just been told. “And Mike, when you told him, he had an issue with it?”
It was always a possibility, Lucas knew that. The current times weren't exactly the most forgiving for people like Will. He had seen how his own parents had rolled their eyes and tutted whenever a story about the ongoing crisis was on the news. How the unspoken (and sometimes very outspoken) hate threatened to plague his mind, too.
And that was Lucas, so secure in the fact that he loved Max. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like for Will, finding what they hated so much buried deep within himself. Maybe that made him hate himself, too.
“See, that’s the thing, I didn’t tell him. Not explicitly, anyway.” Lucas furrowed his brow at this, not really following what Will was trying to say. “I mean, Jonathan, he caught on right away. Mike, not so much.”
It seemed to Lucas as if he was missing one very important part of the puzzle. How could Mike be weirded out by Will being gay if he hadn’t even told him he was in the first place?
“I’m not following,” Lucas admitted, almost feeling guilty about it. “How can things be weird between you guys if he doesn’t know?”
Will squeezed his eyes shut, a strained expression overtaking his face. Heat flushed over his pale cheeks like he was embarrassed more than anything.
“I told you, I’m making it awkward,” Will tried to explain, once again coming up short. Lucas remained patient, knowing it must be hard for him. “Mike, he couldn’t be more clueless if he tried. He doesn’t get why I can’t… be normal around him right now. Because every time he’s nice to me or looks at me a certain way, it just gets my hopes up, and I can’t deal with that. Not when everything else has gone to shit.”
Get his hopes up? That’s a weird way to phrase it. Get his hopes up about what exactly?
Lucas almost felt as though Will was speaking an entirely different language, even though it was the last thing he wanted to convey to him. After all, Will had trusted him. He had accepted the risk of Lucas being a shallow-minded idiot for the off chance that he might actually still want to be his friend after letting him in on his secret. And he did, just as much as he did before.
Still, Lucas didn’t completely get it; not the gay thing, but the Mike thing.
Why did Will care so much about what Mike thought of him? Enough to make his presence around him awkward? Enough that his behavior couldn't be, in Will’s words, normal in his vicinity? Enough that he got his hopes up when he did the slightest nice thing for him?
It reminded him of what it was like when he was thirteen, crushing on Max and taking everything she said to him and clutching it to his chest like a declaration of her love (even when she was obviously making fun of him). The flutters in his stomach whenever she spoke to him, and the sleepless nights he spent thinking about her like a hopeless, love-struck puppy. Even with Billy breathing down his neck, all he could think about was Max. It was misery and bliss all at once, and he knew he’d do it again if given the chance.
Was that what Will was referring to? The weirdness of having a crush… on Mike?
Don’t be an asshole, Lucas. Just because Will’s gay doesn’t mean he has a crush on every guy who has ever lived. It doesn’t mean he likes you, or Dustin, or Steve, or Mike for that matter.
But it would make a lot – like a lot – of sense. Not just because of the past week, but for a lot of Will’s past behavior. The entire previous summer for one – when Mike and Lucas were too caught up with their girlfriends and Will took it to heart.
(He still felt unbelievably guilty for making fun of Will that day, and he’d like to think Mike did, too)
“I might've read this all wrong,” Lucas began, feeling prematurely apologetic for if he was wrong about this, “but are you trying to say that you’re being weird around Mike because you… have a crush on him? Is that what this is?”
Will buried his face in his hands, giving Lucas his answer. It was the guilt that only came with liking Mike Wheeler of all people.
“Mhm hm,” Will hummed, his voice muffled by his hands pressed up against his mouth. “I’m sorry if that weirds you out.”
Lucas honestly wasn’t sure if it did weird him out or not. He had never wanted any of the party dynamics to change, but they inevitably had over the years. Hell, he was responsible for some of them. Surely it would be hypocritical of him to fault Will for something he couldn’t control.
More than anything, it made him wonder how long he had been in the dark about Will’s feelings for Mike. If they had gone undetected for this long, then nothing really ever had to change, right? As long as Mike didn’t make things weird, that is.
So, no, it didn’t weird him out. Honestly, it was just kind of… funny?
Before Lucas knew it, he was erupting into a fit of laughter. He wasn’t sure if it was the lack of sleep or just the absurdity of the moment getting to him, but he couldn’t stop himself. It wasn’t malicious, of course, like he definitely wasn’t laughing at Will.
Will seemed to understand this, finally re-emerging from the cocoon he had made with his hands and giving him an amused but almost baffled look. A smile had crept up on his face, eyebrows furrowed. Any stiffness between them had vanished, nostalgia from simpler times hanging in the air. Back when laughing together was a regular occurrence.
It struck Lucas at that moment that this was the first time he had laughed since Max had fallen into the coma. He wasn’t sure he had even smiled genuinely, either.
“Why are you laughing?” Will asked, voice light and eyes wide. “Am I really that pathetic?"
“Dude, you can do so much better than Mike,” Lucas responded, trying to compose himself but still hiccuping out a laugh. “Like a lot better.”
“What, like a girl?” Will tested, voice remaining playful.
“No, like any other guy on the planet.”
Will bit down on his lip, trying to combat the grin that was forming on his lips. “He’s not that bad. Jesus, Lucas, he’s our best friend.”
“That’s exactly why I can say this shit about him,” Lucas chuckled, knowing it was all love. Mike was an asshole sometimes, but he was their asshole. He would say that to his face without a second thought. “Really, Will, what do you see in him?”
Chewing at his chapped lips, Will stared at the wall, like he couldn’t say what he wanted to while looking Lucas in the eye. While Lucas could appreciate that it must’ve been a hell of a lot scarier for Will than if it had been him talking about Max, he tried not to make a big deal out of it. It was just Will talking about his crush, nothing more and nothing less.
“He’s just–” Will said, trying to string his thoughts together into something coherent. “He’s Mike, you know? Every pivotal moment in my life, every stepping stone, he’s been with me. Even the bad ones. He gets me. Maybe not about everything, but most things. And I know he can be a little… broody sometimes, but he’s also sweet when he wants to be, and loyal, and empathetic.”
Lucas stretched his lips into a tight smile, raising a suggestive eyebrow. “And cute?”
“Screw you,” Will responded with a small laugh, giving Lucas a playful shove. “He’s not not cute, alright? There, I said it. You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?”
“Absolutely not,” his voice returned in a flat tone. “And you better hope people in comas can’t hear shit because Max won’t, either. I’m surprised she hasn’t woken up already to knock some sense into you.”
And just like that, the somber feeling between them returns. Any comradery was diluted when Max wasn't there to share it with them, especially when it involved making fun of Mike.
“I’m sure we can catch her up to speed when she wakes up.”
When .
God, Lucas needed Will’s optimism.
He didn’t know how he did it. After being beaten down by the world so many times — more times than Lucas initially thought, he was realizing — the fact that he still had that childlike optimism was impressive to say the least.
Will Byers was just about the last person who deserved the short straw that life had given him. Lucas knew that much.
“Jokes aside, I’m really glad you thought you could trust me with this,” Lucas smiled sincerely, giving Will’s shoulder a squeeze. He looked back at him with tear-filled eyes, but Lucas had a feeling they were happy ones. “It changes nothing, okay? You’re still my best friend, so don’t be thinking you could get rid of me that easily. I’m not going anywhere.”
He took a glance over at Max, still as ever in her hospital bed. You hear that? I’m not going anywhere.