Chapter Text
Will couldn’t sleep.
The Wheeler basement felt stifling, the thick air clinging to his skin as if he were still trapped in the Upside Down. He tossed and turned on the mattress, the sheets tangled around his legs, listening to Jonathan’s low, steady snoring from the couch. It should have been comforting.
It wasn’t.
His mind was everywhere and nowhere at once.
Mike.
The way he looked at him without ever saying what Will needed to hear.
The guilt pressing heavy in his chest, the feeling that he could have done more against Vecna.
Dustin, trying to be strong after Eddie’s death.
His mother, watching him with tired eyes, as if he could disappear again at any moment.
Will knew exhaustion would eventually win.
Just not yet.
He sat up slowly and swung his legs over the side of the mattress, careful not to make a sound. He grabbed his hoodie and headed for the basement’s back door, turning the knob gently. He didn’t want to wake Jonathan. He didn’t want questions. He didn’t want to explain something he didn’t even understand himself.
The cold early-morning air hit him the moment he stepped outside.
He walked through the Wheeler neighborhood with his hands in his pockets, his head tilted up toward the sky. The stars were clearer at this hour, when Hawkins seemed normal—quiet, almost safe. It had to be close to four in the morning.
For a moment, the calm was enough.
Then he heard footsteps behind him.
Will’s heart jumped. He froze, turning around, body tense, ready to run if he had to. His mind already searched for impossible shadows, memories he didn’t want to relive.
But it wasn’t a monster.
It was just a boy.
His age… maybe a year older.
It took Will a second to recognize him, but when he did, a different kind of knot tightened in his stomach.
Chance.
Only this wasn’t the Chance from school.
The Chance Will knew had perfectly styled hair, trendy clothes that showed off his build, always laughing, always talking—though he usually hung back a little behind Andy and the rest of the basketball team. Will had never hated him. But he’d never thought of him as good, either. Not when he was Andy’s friend. Not after Eddie.
This Chance looked different.
His hair was loose, natural, falling into his face. He wore round glasses that softened his features, an oversized green hoodie, pajama pants, and—slippers?
He didn’t seem alert. Or aggressive. He hadn’t even noticed Will.
In fact, he kept walking until he nearly bumped into him.
“Oh—” Chance said, stepping back. “Sorry. I didn’t see you.”
His voice was low, a little rough, like he’d just gotten out of bed.
Will didn’t answer right away. He just stared, trying to reconcile this tired, unguarded boy with the Tiger who shouted in school hallways.
“Will, right?” Chance said after a second, tilting his head. “Byers.”
Will nodded slowly.
“Yeah.”
Silence fell between them—awkward, but not hostile. Chance tugged at his hoodie, suddenly aware of how ridiculous he probably looked.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he added. “I just… couldn’t sleep.”
Something sharp and unfamiliar tugged at Will’s chest.
He didn’t know why those words sounded so familiar.
“Me neither,” he admitted.
Chance looked up at the sky, following the same path Will had been watching. A streetlight buzzed softly nearby, painting a pale yellow circle on the pavement.
“It’s weird,” Chance murmured. “Hawkins looks different when everyone’s asleep. Like it’s… pretending to be normal.”
Will glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.
For the first time since leaving the house, his breathing steadied a little.
Maybe he wasn’t as alone as he thought.
Chance moved first.
“Do you… want to walk for a bit?” he asked, gesturing vaguely down the sidewalk, as if it didn’t really matter.
Will hesitated for only a second. He didn’t particularly want to say yes—but he also couldn’t find a reason to say no.
“Okay,” he said.
They walked side by side, the sound of their steps blending with the distant chirping of crickets. Neither spoke. It wasn’t a comfortable silence, but it wasn’t aggressive either. It was the kind of silence that appears when two people don’t know what space they occupy in each other’s lives.
They’d never really talked before.
Will thought about school, how their groups seemed like parallel worlds colliding only at the worst moments. Almost always Dustin, Mike or Lucas arguing with Andy, with the Tigers. Will usually stayed back, watching, feeling, never intervening. And now that he thought about it, Chance often hung back too—present, but never leading.
Chance broke the silence first.
“I heard the Byers moved to California,” he said carefully. “I thought… well. That you weren’t coming back.”
Will kept his eyes forward.
“We did move,” he said.
Chance nodded, like he already knew. He took a few steps before asking,
“So… why’d you come back?”
Will clenched his fists in his hoodie pockets. The answer was simple, but saying it aloud made his chest ache.
“The earthquake,” he said. “I heard what happened… and that people I care about got hurt.”
He didn’t name anyone. He didn’t need to.
Chance looked down at the sidewalk, where another streetlight cast soft, long shadows between them.
“That makes sense,” he said quietly.
They walked on. The cold air slipped up Will’s sleeves, but he didn’t mind. He welcomed it—it grounded him.
“It must be weird,” Chance added after a while. “Leaving so far… and coming back right after all that.”
Will thought about California. The constant sun. How little he had helped.
“Yeah,” he said. “It is.”
Chance didn’t press. He didn’t ask anything else. Will realized quietly that he appreciated that.
They kept walking through Hawkins, two boys who had never been on the same side, sharing the early morning under the hum of streetlights.
Will felt the urge to ask harder questions.
Why Chance and his friends had been so cruel.
Why the hallways felt smaller when they were around.
Why everything had gone so wrong.
But he didn’t.
He knew those questions would tighten the air. Turn the walk into something hostile. And for some reason, he didn’t want that.
He searched for something simpler. Something safe.
“Do you really like playing basketball?” he asked finally, not looking at him.
Chance blinked, surprised, then smiled—small, honest.
“Yeah… I like it,” he said. “It’s fun. I like teamwork, I guess.”
He paused, shrugging.
“But honestly, I think I’d like swimming more.”
Will looked at him.
“Swimming?”
“Yeah.” Chance tilted his head up toward the sky. “I’ve always loved water. Since I was a kid. It calms me. In a pool, in a lake, everything feels… slower. Easier to handle.”
Will nodded slowly. He understood the feeling, though his was different.
“I like drawing,” he said, almost like a confession.
Chance turned to him, interested.
“Really?”
Will shrugged.
“I’m not the best or anything,” he added quickly. “But they’re not stick figures either. I think I’m… decent.”
Chance let out a quiet laugh that faded into the morning.
“That’s already more than most people can say.”
It wasn’t mocking. It sounded genuine.
They walked a little further. Will felt the knot in his chest loosen. Talking about simple things—water, basketball, drawing—pushed the past into silence, at least for a while.
“Do you draw people, or…?” Chance asked.
Will hesitated.
“A bit of everything,” he said. “What I feel. Sometimes things I don’t understand yet.”
Chance nodded slowly, as if that answer meant more than Will realized.
For the first time since he stepped outside, Will thought maybe this conversation wasn’t an accident.
They kept walking in silence.
The silence wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. It was light, almost easy. Will wasn’t sure how much time had passed—half an hour, maybe more. Time stretched strangely at that hour.
It was the light that pulled him back.
A pale glow crept between the houses, turning the sky a soft gray-blue. Dawn. Will stopped short.
“I have to go back,” he said, urgency creeping into his voice.
If I don’t get back soon, he thought, they’ll notice. Then the questions. The panic. The irrational fear that something—or someone—took me again.
Chance followed his gaze and nodded.
“Yeah… me too. My mom would kill me if I wasn’t in bed by sunrise.”
He paused.
“She’s still tense about… everything. The murders last year, the earthquake. She doesn’t sleep much.”
Will understood without having to explain.
Chance frowned, serious.
“Then I’ll walk you back.”
Will shook his head immediately.
“It’s not my house. It’s the Wheelers’. My family’s staying there until we can go back to ours… the one in the woods.”
“Oh,” Chance said, like it fit into something he already knew.
Then, after a beat,
“I’ll still walk you.”
It wasn’t a question.
They walked together until the Wheeler house appeared, quiet and dark, like the world hadn’t decided to wake up yet. Will stopped at the edge of the yard.
“Thanks,” he said. “And… be careful getting home.”
Chance smiled faintly.
“I will.”
Will hesitated, then added without thinking,
“You don’t seem as much of an asshole as I thought.”
Chance laughed softly, surprised.
“You don’t seem as creepy as I thought.”
They looked at each other for a moment. No bitterness. Just a shared, awkward truth.
“I guess that’s good,” Will murmured.
“I guess,” Chance echoed.
Chance stepped back, then turned and walked away. Will watched him disappear down the sidewalk, bathed in the glow of the streetlights.
When he returned to the basement, Jonathan’s snoring was still steady, familiar.
Will lay back down, his body tired, his mind lighter.
For the first time in hours, he slept.