Chapter Text
Mike was sitting alone on the living room sofa, the silence of the house weighing on him. His thoughts, as usual these past few days, revolved around Will. Will Byers, who had returned from Lenora but somehow hadn't truly returned.
When his mom announced that the Byers were coming back to Hawkins and that Jonathan and Will would stay with them for a while, Mike could hardly believe it. He was so excited he could barely sleep that week, imagining all the things they would do together. Finally, his best friend was back. But reality had been quite different.
Will didn't seem to share the same excitement. On the contrary, he acted like a polite stranger in his own home.
Mike knew part of the blame was his. He had become distant after Will moved away, caught up in his own problems. But in Lenora, before coming back home, they had talked. They had made up, agreed they would be "crazy together" again. Mike believed that.
Now, Will seemed to be avoiding him. He spent more time with Jonathan, talked a lot with Nancy — which Mike didn't understand, what did they even have in common? — and even seemed more comfortable with Steve's weird friend than with him. It was driving Mike crazy.
He had spent months missing his friend, and now that Will was just a few meters away, there seemed to be an invisible wall between them. Mike noticed that Will didn't make much of an effort with Dustin or Lucas either, but still, he paid more attention to them than to Mike. And they lived in the same house.
The sound of the doorbell jolted him from his thoughts. He stood up too quickly, almost tripping on his way to the door.
Lucas and Dustin were outside, right on time as planned.
"Come in," Mike said, trying to sound more cheerful than he felt.
"What's up, how's the guest of honor?" Dustin asked, stepping inside.
"Will is... fine," Mike lied, closing the door. "That's why I called you guys. I think we need to cheer him up. Bring back a bit of the old Party spirit."
Lucas glanced around, as if expecting Will to appear any moment. "And you think playing D&D will do that?"
"Of course!" Mike exclaimed, the enthusiasm sounding forced even to his own ears. "It's been ages since we played a full campaign. He'll love it."
Dustin and Lucas exchanged a skeptical look.
"Dude, the last time I tried talking about a campaign with him, he seemed... bored," Dustin admitted, frowning. "It wasn't the Will we know."
Lucas agreed silently, with a slight nod.
"It's because he's not in the mood yet," Mike insisted, ignoring the knot of anxiety in his stomach. "Come on, let's go down to the basement. We'll call him, set up a quick campaign, then watch a movie. Like old times."
Without waiting for further objections, Mike turned and marched down the hall leading to the basement. His footsteps echoed on the wooden floor. Lucas and Dustin followed, reluctant.
Mike was about to turn the doorknob to the basement when a low, weary voice from the other side made him freeze.
"...I don't know how to pretend everything's okay anymore, Robin."
Mike's hand froze in mid-air. He recognized Will's voice immediately, but the tone was strange—broken, vulnerable, in a way he had never heard before. He looked over his shoulder at Dustin and Lucas. The three exchanged a look heavy with guilt and hesitation. Eavesdropping was wrong, but... it was a chance. Maybe the only chance to understand what was happening with Will.
Mike took his hand off the doorknob and, silently, took a step back. No one protested.
Will's voice continued, coming through soft and full of a resignation that hurt to hear.
"When I was a kid... my biggest dream was to be able to spend a week here, maybe the whole summer vacation. I spent hours thinking about everything Mike and I could do. About all the movies we could watch, the games we could play with Lucas and Dustin. About how I could sleep and wake up next to Mike and do all the fun stuff with my best friend."
Mike closed his eyes. He remembered. He remembered the endless conversations, the wild plans they'd make while laughing. He remembered the little ache in his chest when Will had to leave in the late afternoon.
Will's voice cracked a little. "But now... I wish I could trade places with El. I wish I were in that cabin while she stayed here, with Mike. I'm sure he'd be happier if it were her staying here. Then he wouldn't have to pretend he's happy to have us."
Mike opened his eyes abruptly, a throbbing pain shooting through his temples. Pretend? What was Will talking about? He was happy. The news of Will's return was the best thing that had happened in months. He shared a look of pure astonishment with his friends, who looked equally perplexed.
They heard Robin's voice, trying to console him. "It's not like that, Will. I heard from Nancy how excited little Wheeler was about you guys coming back. She said he even tidied up his room and the basement without anyone asking."
Mike felt his cheeks burn with shame and saw a small, understanding smile on Dustin's lips.
Will's reply came low, defeated. "It must have been for El. He must have gotten excited to see her."
No! Mike wanted to shout. For you too! For us!
"Nancy said he talked a lot about you too, little Byers," Robin insisted.
"She must be mistaken. Maybe she thinks that because she believes we... that we're still friends."
The air rushed out of Mike's lungs all at once. A high-pitched buzzing started in his ears. The hallway seemed to sway. Still friends? The phrase echoed in his mind, senseless. What did he mean 'still'? What did he mean 'were'? They are friends. They are best friends. It was a basic fact of Mike's life, like gravity or sunrise.
Before he could move, Robin replied, her voice a bit confused. "'Were'? Aren't you anymore? I thought you guys were inseparable. Steve says you were like glue, always together. Everyone thinks you're one of those friends-for-life cases."
The laugh Will gave was short and empty, a sound that made Mike shiver. "Yeah... I used to think that too. That the four of us would be friends forever, but especially Mike and me, you know? We've known each other since kindergarten. He was my first friend. I used to think we'd be friends forever... but I was stupid." Will's voice cracked. "How many people really have childhood friendships that last a lifetime? Thinking that was... naive of me. Mike and me, though... I think our friendship might have ended even before I left for Lenora. And I was the idiot who didn't realize it."
Mike felt his legs go weak. He leaned against the cold wall.
"Mike and the others... they changed. Grew up. Before I left, we weren't the same anymore. They all have girlfriends now. They're not interested in staying in Mike's basement playing D&D with the 'weird' friend just because he's not interested in girls." A loaded pause. "At least, they weren't interested in that when I was here."
Mike swallowed hard. The memory hit him with full force: the last D&D session before the move, his own impatient and insensitive voice: "It's not my fault you don't like girls!" Will's hurt face, the rain, him walking away alone. The instant, useless regret. He looked at Lucas and Dustin. The guilt stamped on their faces mirrored the one eating Mike inside.
Will's voice continued, weaker now, as if each word cost an enormous effort. "They didn't send me any letters while I was away. Not a single one. Not Lucas, not Dustin, not Mike... who I thought was my best friend. No one remembered I existed. El got letters from Mike every week, sometimes more than one. She probably has a book just of his letters. And he didn't even send me one. It's like, the moment I left Hawkins, they forgot I exist."
Mike couldn't see, but he knew. By the muffled voice, the almost imperceptible sob, Will was crying. Without thinking, Mike brought a hand to his own face and felt the warm wetness of tears. He looked at his friends. Dustin's eyes were red, his head tapping lightly against the wall in a gesture of silent frustration. Lucas looked like he had swallowed something sour, his chin trembling slightly.
Mike wanted to explain. He wanted to shout that writing to Will was too hard, that every word seemed wrong and not enough, that he was afraid of exposing too much, of showing how shattered he was without his best friend. Writing to El was easy, it was about simple things. But he never, never imagined that would make Will feel... erased.
"I had to watch El being happy, going to answer his letters, while I had to lock myself in my room and pretend to be too busy painting... so no one would see how much it hurt. Realizing my friends were too busy to remember I exist." Will paused for a breath, the sound shaky. "And when El told me Mike was coming to Lenora the week of my birthday... for a moment, I thought he still cared. But when he arrived..."
Mike felt his heart break. He remembered the arrival, the anxiety to see El, the nervousness... and yes, he had been clumsy with Will. So absorbed in his own drama that he failed at the most basic things.
Will's voice was now interwoven with clear sobs, and Mike heard Robin's gentle whisper trying to calm him. "He didn't even hug me, Robin. He completely ignored me. And when I asked why he hadn't sent me letters like he did for Eleven, he said... he said she was his girlfriend." Another bitter laugh. "Damn, I know that. Does he think I don't know? That's all he's said since they started dating. That's all that matters. But I thought... I thought our friendship was something. It was my birthday, and all I wanted was a hug from my best friend. And he didn't even... he gave me a pat on the back and..."
I forgot his birthday. The revelation was a punch to the gut. Mike saw from the horrified looks on Dustin's and Lucas's faces that they had forgotten too. Guilt enveloped them like a heavy, damp cloak.
Then, Will's voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper. The three in the hallway had to lean in to hear.
"Robin... do you think they know? Do you think Mike knows? Do you think he knows that I'm... that I like boys?"
Mike stopped breathing.
Will's voice continued, full of a visceral fear. "Maybe that's why he's been acting like this. He found out I like boys and now he hates me. Maybe he's too disgusted to be around his girlfriend's 'fag brother,' but doesn't want to risk upsetting El."
It was as if the floor had disappeared from under Mike's feet. A wave of violent nausea rose up his throat. He brought a hand to his mouth, his trembling fingers pressing against his lips. Disgust. Will thought Mike was disgusted by him. Mike's legs gave out completely; he slid down the wall until he was sitting on the cold hallway floor, his head spinning.
Will, the kindest and bravest person he knew, believed Mike could hate him for who he loved. And worse, the way Will said it—'his girlfriend's fag brother'—as if he were just an appendage, an inconvenient detail in Mike's life, not the person who had lit up his days since he was five years old.
"No, Will," Robin's voice was firm and gentle. "I don't think they know. And even if they did, little Wheeler and his friends don't seem like that kind of people. Steve spends a lot of time with Dustin, and from what I've seen, he's not the type to abandon a friend over that. And Wheeler... well, he doesn't seem like the type who notices much, does he? Maybe he had something on his mind. Nancy said he got very withdrawn after you guys left for Lenora."
Will murmured something unintelligible.
"What?" asked Robin.
Will's voice came out clear, but empty, as if quoting a sentence. "I said that when El left — not you guys, El — Mike missed her. And I'm sure, Robin. I'm sure because he said it. He said his life only began when he met Eleven."
Mike felt Lucas's and Dustin's gazes fixed on him like knives. He knew he had overdone it, trying to be the hero, the perfect boyfriend. He wanted to explain himself, to scream that he hadn't meant it that way, that his words in that moment were about pressure and expectation, not about the truth in his heart. But it was too late. The words had been spoken. The damage was done.
Will's laugh echoed in the basement, cynical and pained. "My best friend said his life began the day after mine ended."
There was a deep, suffocating silence.
When Will spoke again, his voice was just a thread of sound, laden with an absolute sadness that made Mike tremble. "Sometimes I think it would have been better if I had never been found. Maybe if they had never recovered me, everyone's life would be better."
"Will, that's not true," Robin protested, alarmed. "I know it's not. Your brother, your mom would never think that... and little Wheeler might be acting like an idiot now, but Steve said he was the one who led the search party. He was determined to find you. Just like your friends. I'm sure that, regardless of everything now, they wouldn't wish they had never found you."
Will gave another humorless laugh. And then, the final words came out, a stream of guilt and self-hatred that Mike had never, in his worst nightmares, imagined hearing from his friend's mouth.
"Maybe. But if I had never been born... if Will Byers had never been born, my mom could have gotten out of that unhappy marriage sooner. Jonathan wouldn't have had to work so hard to help at home and still bear the responsibility of being his little brother's father. He could have chosen a good college without worrying about me all the time. And my... the Party could have had a quiet life. Maybe they would never have gotten involved with the whole Upside Down mess. Max would never have ended up in a coma. They could be normal kids who have no idea what's really happening in Hawkins. Maybe Dustin would never have lost Eddie. Maybe... maybe everything would have been easier if I had never existed."
That was the last straw. The buzzing in Mike's ears turned into a roar. His vision darkened at the edges. Nausea exploded in his stomach, an uncontrollable urgency.
Without thinking, without caring about the noise, Mike crawled away from the door, stumbling down the hallway. He could barely see the bathroom door, his trembling hands finding it by instinct. He went in, locked the door behind him, and fell to his knees in front of the toilet, his whole body shaking, tears and despair finally taking over, while Will's words—if I had never existed—echoed endlessly in his mind, tearing apart every piece of his world.