Chapter Text
Will really hated staying at the Wheelers.
Not that he disliked the Wheelers specifically— Mike was his best friend after all. Mrs Wheeler was quite nice for taking them in and Mr Wheeler was barely ever even there, although he truly scared Will.
It was the house.
Mornings were always rushed. Elbows flying, voices overlapping each other, people here and there and smacking into Will five times in ten minutes. And the basement was freezing; so cold that Will could barely get any sleep most of the nights, and gods, how he missed his home.
“Aren't you coming? There won't be any food left for you.”
The words jerked Will out of his thoughts and he glanced at the door where Jonathan was standing, already on his way out. “I'm coming.” He called back, standing up and heading up the stairs, rubbing his neck tenderly. He'd woken up on his stomach— and his back, stiff and sore, hadn't quite stopped complaining yet.
————
Soon, the three of them—Mike, Holly and he— were on their bicycles, on their way to school, and that's when Will finally got to breathe.
The brother-sister duo chatted animatedly as they rode ahead of Will, listening to the Morning Squawk, Robin’s podcast. Will only half listened as he followed closely behind, enjoying the feel of the wind on his face. Out here, moving, the world felt quieter. Manageable.
The feeling didn’t last long.
The moment they reached school, Will’s eyes went straight to Dustin.
He stood near Lucas and Andy, his Hellfire Club T-shirt torn across the chest,, fabric stretched and frayed like it had barely survived whatever had happened before they arrived. Clearly Andy’s handiwork. Will’s chest tightened. Dustin didn’t look hurt—not physically—but there was something closed-off about him, shoulders tense, expression hard in a way that he had never really seen before..
Will had been worrying about him for a while now. Ever since their last encounter with the Upside Down, Dustin had been different—quieter when he shouldn’t be, louder when it came to trouble, walking into fights without thinking them through.
Will knew why.
Eddie’s death had carved something out of all of them. But Dustin had been closest to him—and it showed.
The four of them had become awkward when it came to Dustin. . No one quite knew what to say. Whether to comfort him, leave him alone, or pretend everything was normal and hope that somehow made it true.
Will flinched as Robin's voice cut rudely into his spiraling thoughts and they jumped to work as she declared the next crawl. Instinct kicked in as the four noted whatever information she provided, Mike writing them down on a piece of paper.
At least when it came to life or death situations, they still worked well together.
The thought settled something in Will's chest.
Will had to agree with Dustin, Zone 1 did not seem like a place Vecna would use to plot evil schemes and methods to destroy the world. Unless he wanted to buy pink bows and a tiara for his head, which Will seriously doubted, they were gonna spend another evening on yet another unsuccessful crawl.
But his three best friends seemed happy and excited about it, and Will didn't really want to be the wet blanket of the group.
He was suddenly feeling cold. And not the Winter chill, it was the other, otherworldly kind of cold. Will turned away from the boys, the familiar feeling chilling him to the bones. Not again. Please please not the Upside Down. Anything but the Upside Down. I can't do this again—
The sky was blue. And it was spinning.
The vision had probably lasted like five seconds. When he came to, he was leaning against a tree. Mike's face floated into view, worry etched on the lines of his face. Will took a few seconds before his voice returned to him, although he didn't have much to offer them. It wasn't like he had any clue what it was.
Nervous… Will felt it was a lie even as he said it. He had felt nervous multiple times before, and it definitely did not feel like this.This had felt like his body was bracing for something it remembered all too well. He had expected the vision to show him the Upside Down like it had every time before but instead he saw a spinning sky? Maybe Mike was right. Maybe
Vecna was close after all.
————
Later, sitting beside Lucas in Max’s hospital room, Will felt like he’d wandered into something he wasn’t meant to see. The space between Lucas and the bed was heavy with things unsaid, and Will kept still, afraid that even breathing too loudly might break it.
Uselessness settled in his chest, familiar and unwelcome. He’d felt it every time Hopper went off chasing another crawl while Will stayed behind, waiting, doing absolutely nothing. At least El was training now—at least she was allowed to help.
The thought stung more than he wanted it to.
Will shifted, finally standing, telling himself he was just stepping out for air, and a drink. The hallway felt brighter after the dimness of the room, almost too clean, too normal for a place that held so much grief. He had just turned back toward the door when a flash of blue caught his eye.
“Robin! Rocking Robin!”
The nickname slipped out automatically as he spotted her across the hall and lifted a hand in a small wave. She didn’t see him. Instead, she turned down another corridor without a second glance.
He frowned, following her without a second thought. He wasn’t sure why, maybe curiosity. Or that same instinct that always seemed to pull him toward things he didn’t want to understand. The hospital smelled like antiseptic and something faintly metallic, his sneakers scuffing softly against the floor as he trailed the sound of voices.
Then he heard it.
Robin’s laugh—lowered, softer than usual. Not her public, rambling laugh. Something private.
Will slowed.
He stopped just short of a doorway, peering in before he could think better of it.
Robin stood close to another girl, unfamiliar, smaller,probably a nurse. They were laughing quietly, faces inches apart, words too soft to hear.
And then they kissed.
It was brief. Gentle. Real.
Will’s mind went blank.
The world seemed to tilt, his heartbeat thudding so loudly in his ears that it drowned out everything else. Heat rushed up his neck, sharp and overwhelming, like he’d been caught doing something wrong—something shameful.
He couldn’t breathe.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not here. Not now. Not in front of him.
He didn’t let himself think. Thinking made it worse. Thinking made it about him.
Will turned and ran.
His shoes squeaked against the floor as he fled down the hallway, not caring where he was going as long as it was away—away from the image burned into his head, away from the feeling clawing up his throat. His chest hurt, tight and panicked, breath coming too fast.
Only later—much later, when his hands had stopped shaking and the hospital felt miles behind him—did he realize his soda was gone.
Left behind in that room.
He didn’t go back for it.