Chapter Text
Part One: Will
May 20th 1986
Will Byers has been hiding from monsters his entire life. It started with his father, Lonnie, bellowing and swaying, chasing him down the hallway. He would always run to his older brother Jonathan, who took the brunt of it.
He survived by camouflaging himself and quietly observing, carefully noting a change in tone or body language.
Then the monsters followed him when he started school, in the form of bullies who would taunt him for his quiet, gentle nature.
“Creep,” the other boys muttered. He became known as the kid who would watch from the border of the playground, never making a move to join in. It’s not like Jonathan ever brought home friends from school, either. Will thought it would just be him and his brother his whole life.
And then there was Mike.
When Mike approached Will at recess, the trajectory of his life changed in an instant. Suddenly, Will wasn’t running from monsters; he was fighting them. The two boys played for hours in the woods, running in and out of Castle Byers, their fortress in the wilderness. It was their kingdom. They would play pretend. Mike—the brave knight, and Will—the powerful wizard.
“You’re Will the Wise,” Mike would whisper to him on the swingset. “Don’t listen to them.”
Why do they think I am wrong? He wanted to ask at the time. Although at that age he probably didn’t have the language for it--didn’t understand that what he felt wasn’t just being left out but something deeper. A wrongness that had settled into his bones the first time Lonnie called him queer. Maybe his classmates didn’t ignore him; maybe it was Will who retreated to the sidelines, trying to hide from monsters before they could even find him.
Then, Lucas moved to town, and Will’s world expanded even more. His mother, Joyce, always gushed about Will being so sweet, so kind, so thoughtful. Lonnie called it too sensitive. But this thoughtfulness is what drew Will to Lucas. He noticed the way their classmates treated him, too. It was not outright bullying, but he could sense it—the subtle way Lucas was left out for being different. Mike noticed it too. So they asked him to join their party.
It was the three of them, playing and fighting monsters. It went without saying when they played pretend, what they were really fighting was their bullies. And sometimes, when Lonnie puffed cigarette smoke from his mouth, Will would imagine his father as a fire-breathing dragon, his eyes turned into tiny slits.
He imagined Mike by his side and felt a bit braver.
When Lonnie left, it was like the monsters were gone for good. But of course, because Will knew the universe was against him, that’s exactly when it happened, not soon after. He was taken, this time by a real monster, all flesh and a face of knife-like teeth. His life has not been the same since. That brief moment in childhood when he felt relief, even freedom, vanished almost as soon as it arrived.
He escaped the Upside Down years ago, but he is still trapped. Trapped in his own body, unable to outrun the truth of who he is, or the chills that move across his skin each time Mike looks at him.
Because Will is in love with his best friend. And sometimes, that feels scarier than running from an inter-dimensional monster with a face full of teeth.
Currently, the monster wears his sister’s pleading brown eyes across the table: El. She’s the one who saved him, and that makes it worse. She is a real Wizard with powers Mike and Will couldn’t have even dreamed of in their campaigns. She is different—like Will—but different in all the right ways, like the idealized version Mike conjured of him in childhood, and real.
She is the version that saves the day. And Will is the version that gets lost.
It's not jealousy that stirs inside him. It is something way more complicated and ugly. It's like erasure, guilt, and inadequacy all rolled up into a bundle of fucked up thoughts and feelings that Will will never let see the light of day. El has been punished by the universe even more cruelly than he has. If he had to share Mike, his family, and his friends with her, that would be fine. It’s less than what she deserves.
“Will?” she whispers.
“Yeah?”
El is looking up from the workbook his mother bought her, a homeschooling program she found. After dinner at the cabin, some nights they do this, sitting across from each other.
“Has Mike said anything lately?” She asks, tapping the eraser of her pencil on the table. “About me?”
Being stuck in the middle of their two-month-long breakup since returning from Lenora has been many things to Will, but uncomfortable is the main thing.
“He misses you,” Will responds easily, his practiced, automatic response for the last few weeks.
“But has he said anything?” El narrows her eyes, and Will can never lie to her, even when he knows it might hurt.
He shakes his head. “At lunch today, he and Lucas were just talking about routes for the crawls. It’s all they talk about. And I get Lucas—I mean, I can’t imagine what he is going through. It’s been two months and—” He stops himself.
El sighs and leans back in her chair. It creaks a bit as she settles, crossing her arms over her chest. “I thought so.”
“So you guys still haven't…”
El shakes her head. “No.”
“He wanted to talk to you, you know…when we got back from Lenora. But you were,” Will shrugged, “Kind of giving him mixed signals.”
She squints. “Mixed signals?”
“Like… you seemed like you didn’t want to talk to him. You were ignoring him, he thought.”
"Maybe I was. Maybe I am."
"But why?"
Her voice comes out small. “Friends don’t lie.”
“I’m not lying.”
“But Max said… sometimes boyfriends do.”
“Huh?” Will leans forward.
“Boyfriends lie. And Mike always lies.”
“No.” Will bristles, defensively, “He doesn’t.” And this is exactly why Will has been so uncomfortable the last two months. He is caught in the middle, seeing both sides of El and Mike’s cold war, but at the same time, not understanding it one bit.
“Do you really believe what he said? Do you believe…” Her voice trails off, and she whispers the next part, “That Mike loves me?”
Will bites the inside of his mouth. He knows Mike, or at least he thought he knew Mike, better than anyone. Will’s definition of love came first from his mom, and then Jonathan, and then a new form of it bloomed. Mike taught him that love. It was platonic, turned deeper. And even though Will wasn’t present for it, he always assumed that’s what happened to El and Mike, too.
“I think so,” he finally says.
“I think he was lying,” El responds quickly.
“What?” Will crinkles his face, “Why?”
El pushes her curls off her forehead. “Do you remember everything he said?”
Will sinks into his chair. Of course, he remembers. He remembers that moment too vividly. He remembers each pause in Mike’s cadence, the desperation in his eyes when he turned back to Will. He remembers the cracking inside his chest the moment Mike said, “My life started that day we found you in the woods.” His heart hasn’t healed since then—since he learned that his entire perception of Mike and their friendship has been a lie.
Thankfully, he doesn’t have to respond because Jonathan is plowing back into the house after cutting firewood with Hopper in the yard.
“Will,” he says, “Let’s head back. It’s a school night.”
The conversation between El and Will ends there, but it lingers with him the entire drive back to the Wheelers’. Of course, the Mike-versus-El Cold War has only gotten worse for Will—living under the same roof as Mike, eating dinner at El’s twice a week. And having spent a week in the Upside Down, Will knows just how dramatic that sounds.
Lying in the Wheelers’ basement alone, Will replays that moment in the pizzeria, kneeling beside El in the tank, elbow pressed against Mike's.
El is extremely smart and able to read situations, but Will always thought he was too. Was Mike lying? Will had never believed Mike was capable of that, especially not about something so big, to someone so important to him. And if he was lying… which part? Loving her? Or the reason he suddenly found the words?
Will presses his face into the pillow. If Mike was lying, then Will helped him do it. He handed him the speech. He built the bridge and watched Mike cross it toward someone else. And if Mike wasn’t lying, then what does that make him? Still hoping. Still reading into glances. Still wanting something that he can never have.
Upstairs, a floorboard creaks. Pipes hum inside the walls. Mike is up there. Two ceilings away. He's probably asleep, probably not thinking about any of this at all. Will flips onto his other side and drags the pillow over his head, as if he can muffle the house, muffle his own mind. He counts his breaths. Tries to picture something else. Static, blankness, the dark. Hell-- The Upside Down at this point. Anything... but the sound of Mike’s voice in that pizzeria, saying love.
I love you El.
It landed like a blade slipped between his ribs.
In the morning, Will avoids Mike in the kitchen. Not consciously. But he is doing that thing he does, retreating into himself. And it’s not obvious either. It’s just his responses are a bit more terse than usual, and he waits to serve himself eggs last, even though he and Mike are usually first at the table—starving in a way only a teenage boy can be. And of course, Mike notices.
“Everything alright?” he asks, voice low at the breakfast table. His dark eyes catch Will’s for a beat before returning to his plate.
Will clears his throat, but his voice still betrays him with a small crack. “Yeah.”
“You’re quiet today,” Mike states before taking a bite of his toast.
Will shrugs. “I’m nervous about our geometry test.”
“Just look at my paper,” Mike says casually with his mouth full.
“You mean cheat?” Will whispers.
“When are you going to need geometry in your real life, Will?”
“I don’t know.”
Mike’s eyes widen the way they do when he knows his point is being made. “Exactly.”
“I’m not going to cheat.”
“Whatever,” Mike shoves the rest of his toast into his mouth.
And Will is serious when he says that, he really is, but when he stares down at his test forty-five minutes later, and the numbers and shapes all start to blur together, his heart rate quickens. His teacher told him he needed to pass this test, or else he would need to retake the class. And it really is stupid. Why should anyone care about school or grades or the length of a hypotenuse when the world had cracked open two months ago?
Will thinks the way their school carries on in the midst of a government lockdown is dumb. Hopper said it was to quell the panic of the town, to proceed with routine. But what was high school building to, if they were all stuck here in Hawkins anyway? Will could fail the class and just retake it. None of it matters, except for maybe his mother, who worries about him endlessly. And Fs in Will’s past have meant things were getting bad again, at least for Joyce.
His eyes drift over to Mike. His lip is pulled into his mouth as he writes out an equation. Will eyes the paper, and he is already on the last page. Will’s skin starts to burn. He needs Mike again.
Will exhales a deep breath and then starts tapping his pencil—Morse code. He taps out S.O.S. until Mike’s pencil stills. Mike meets his gaze with a small smirk. He flips back to the beginning of the test and slides his packet to the edge of his desk. Will feels sick with guilt as he checks Mr. Crowell’s desk, whose head is deep in the stack of tests, grading the pile from the period before them. Will steals only a couple of answers—enough to pass and then gives Mike a nod.
Mike folds his test back to the front, stands up, and turns in his test to Mr. Crowell, who only points to the pile, without looking up. On his return to his desk, Mike’s eyes remain on Will, and a small smile graces his lips. Frankly, it makes Will want to melt into his chair. Mike’s smile has always been gentle and arrived at his eyes more than his mouth.
Will pretends to check over his answers and then turns in his test.
“Thanks,” Will says to Mike the moment their class spills into the hallway. After transferring his grades from Lenora, Will has been having a hard time keeping up. He would never admit it, but he really struggled in school without his friends. They all seemed to pass their classes with flying colors, but for Will, things like math and science didn’t come as easily. Plus, his mind was always caught between the real-world and another dimension. Focusing in class was often the least of his worries. So, since starting at Hawkins High, school has been a game of catch-up.
“Anytime,” Mike replies. “Don’t feel bad about it, Will.”
“I’m not—”
“Please,” Mike interrupts, “You have that look.”
“What look?”
“Your eyes are all big, like someone is gonna catch you. It’s fine. I promise.”
“Saw you copying Mike’s answers on that test,” Lucas says, catching up to them and cutting into the conversation as if on cue. He slaps his hand on Will’s shoulders playfully.
Will feels his eyes widen even further, and he exchanges a look with Mike, who only smiles. “Lucas is way more observant than Mr. Crowell. It’s fine.” He says, reading his mind.
“Yeah, Byers. Chill,” Lucas laughs. “If anyone deserves not to have to take a Crowell test ever again, it’s you man. You’ve been tortured enough for one lifetime.”
The three of them talk about the test, waiting at Mike’s locker for Dustin, who takes college-level math in a classroom with the three other smartest kids in the school. Once he finally shows up, still wearing a Hellfire shirt, the four of them head to the library for their study hall.
Will would ask Mike and Dustin about their D&D group from when he was in California more if it didn’t make him swirl with jealousy. He knows about Eddie and can tell they somewhat idolized him, but he still can’t bring himself to ask. And it’s like Mike avoids it now, too, to Dustin’s disappointment.
In fact, Mike never talks about Hellfire. If Will were being honest, sometimes he thinks it's because Mike knows that it hurts him. Will promised he could never join another party. In fact, before Will moved, Mike seemed to want nothing to do with Dungeons and Dragons. Of course, it hurt that Mike found someone else to play with. Mike could easily fill Will’s place with someone else. Always could, in fact. Will was not the same in that way.
At lunch that day, Dustin cuts to the chase. “Saying the quiet part out loud,” as Lucas would call it. He has been especially this way since Will got back from Lenora.
“So, what’s going on with you and El anyway?” Dustin asks Mike.
Mike looks up from his tray of pizza.
“I brought some old books over that my mom had lying around for El’s school the other day. We were catching up. She said, besides the crawls, you haven’t spoken in weeks. What the hell?”
Mike shrugs. “Girls are confusing.”
Lucas shakes his head. “El is not confusing.”
“You guys don’t understand. She can be really… hard to read sometimes.”
Will squirms in his seat, words on the tip of his tongue.
“Well, talk to us about it,” Dustin says, mouth full of doughy pizza.
“I don’t even know how to explain it. It’s just different since she got back.”
“Did something happen out there? In California.”
Mike snorts. “Well, yeah. A lot happened.”
“No shit. I mean with you two,” Lucas nods his head in Mike’s direction, and Will’s face heats.
This can’t happen, not here in their dingy cafeteria--not ever. Will has been trying his best to forget the moment, but it’s like the world has decided Will can’t ignore it any longer.
“Well, when she was trying to save Max from Vecna, there was a moment,” Mike makes eye contact with Will for a beat before looking away.
“What kind of a moment?” Dustin asks. He leans his arms on the table now, fully invested in the conversation.
Mike swallows, and his eyes pass over his friends. He has that trapped animal look in his eyes, like he’s considering the ways he can somehow wiggle himself out of the current situation. Will has a reason to avoid the whole life-or-death dramatic love confession ordeal, but Mike?
Mike exhales, like he’s given up, and continues. “When we almost lost her. I told her I loved her.”
Lucas and Dustin stare, waiting, confusion written in their eyebrows.
Mike continues, “Which is what I thought she wanted me to say, but then she got really distant and—I don’t know. It hasn’t been the same between us since.”
Lucas scoffs. “There’s no way that’s it. You must have done something wrong. You can’t think of anything else you might have said or done?”
“Yeah,” Dustin agrees, “Did something happen after that?”
Mike shakes his head and curls his fingers around his lunch tray. Will can feel the agitation radiating off of him.
“No. I have gone over what I said that day in my head so many times, and I can’t remember where I went wrong.”
“I can.” The words leave Will’s mouth before his brain even registers that he was planning on speaking. He has been particularly quiet during this entire conversation, but it’s like he couldn’t keep it inside anymore.
The entire party’s heads turn on a swivel, pointed in Will’s direction. They stare at him expectantly.
“I can think of something,” Will mutters, more quietly. He waits for Mike’s dark eyes to meet his before pushing his tray away, no longer hungry.
“W-what?” Mike asks softly. His brows pinch together, mouth parted in shock.
“Keep thinking, Mike,” Will says.
“But–”
Will stands quickly, and it makes his head rush. He feels slightly dizzy with all of his friends' eyes glued to him in concern. “I’ll… I’ll see you guys later,” Will says before snatching up his backpack and leaving the cafeteria. He slides out the door that leads outside and walks to the bleachers, leaning against the cool metal.
“So stupid,” he whispers to himself. He intakes a sharp breath and drives his palms into his eyes, trying to push the hot, wet emotion threatening to pour out of him. Will is usually agreeable, maybe even the most chill of his friends. But sometimes, when it comes to Mike, his emotions are an untamable beast. He becomes impatient, snappy, and angry. He is so consumed with the cataclysmic event occurring within his body that he almost doesn’t hear someone calling his name from behind him.
“Will!”
Will rubs away the wetness from his face and turns around. Mike is already right there, about two feet away. His face is no longer holding shock, but concern.
“Mike,” Will breathes and shakes his head, “Not now."
When did maintaining a friendship become this hard? It wasn’t supposed to be this much torment, was it? Emotional outbursts, arguing, fighting, and making up afterwards. It was supposed to be easy between them. Will can’t exactly pinpoint when it became this way, but he knows it has been like this for a while.
“Will,” Mike takes another step closer. “Please.”
“You really don’t know, do you?” Will’s voice comes out higher than he wants it to. He's rather sound strong, but right now, he feels pathetic, like begging for his friend’s attention once again makes him two feet tall.
Mike swallows. “Well… It was such an intense moment. I don’t remember everything I said.”
Will nods slowly and squeezes his hands into fists at his side. It's stupid. He is getting upset about an issue that has nothing to do with him. He's being so selfish now--making it about himself. But he feels like a hurricane, swirling out of control.
“Just tell me, Will. So I can fix it.” Mike’s eyes are pleading now.
Will’s voice shakes. “I can’t. It’s not even about… what we… never mind.”
“It’s not about El, is it?” Mike asks carefully after a pause.
“It’s so stupid.” Will looks away, throat stinging. “Forget I said anything.”
“Clearly, it’s not stupid if you’re this upset.”
“I’m not upset! Seriously Mike. Just forget it.” Will shouts and crosses his arms.
“I seriously don’t remember," Mike says softly. Typical Mike. Will begs for him to drop something, and he just white-knuckle grips it instead. It's like he can't help himself--can't imagine for a minute that someone might be upset with him. This is a side of Mike that annoys Will in the moment, but he cherishes in secret after the storm dies down. Because one thing about Mike Wheeler: he never gives up on Will.
"And if I said something wrong, I’m sorry, okay? Tensions were high, and I was just trying anything I could to get her back.”
“So you didn’t mean it then?” Will asks.
“Mean what?”
Will brings his eyes up from the grass to look at Mike. “That your life started that day. The day you found her in the woods.”
Mike’s jaw falls open, and Will can hear the sharp breath he takes from where he is standing.
“Because for me, Mike,” Will continues, no longer trying to hide the emotion in his voice. “That’s really when it all ended for me. I lost everything that day. It was the worst time of my life. I don’t even tell you guys about what really happened down there, not even you. And I used to tell you everything, but I know… she is the most important person to you now. It’s not me anymore. It used to feel that way, but—” Will cuts himself off abruptly. He hears how this sounds--knows it's a foolish thing to ask for equal attention between him and El.
“Will,” Mike says. His mouth fumbles for more words, but they never come.
“El thinks you were lying,” Will says, trying to redirect the focus away from their friendship and back to what started all of this. “When you said that, but I don’t know Mike... I think she doesn’t believe you for some reason, which is the part I don’t get because… It’s so obvious how you feel about her.”
“There’s stuff you don’t know,” Mike says. Will waits for Mike to explain or elaborate in some way, but he doesn’t. His mouth continues to open and close, and Will can’t stand here anymore, open and raw in front of Mike once again.
“If you want my advice,” Will starts and clenches his stomach. He can’t believe he is doing this again—coaching Mike through his own relationship troubles. “I think you need to start showing El you love her again, because somehow, you gave her reason to doubt it.”
Mike scoffs a little. “I’m actually not thinking about El right now, Will.”
“Well, maybe you should! She misses you.”
“What about us?” Mike gestures between them.
Will swallows, his throat feeling tight. “We are fine, Mike.”
“I really didn’t mean it. I don’t know why I said that.”
Will shrugs. “It’s okay if you did. She’s your girlfriend. Of course, that was a happy day for you… When you met her.”
Mike shakes his head. “It wasn’t. It was a terrible, awful, miserable day. I don’t know why I said that.”
“Whatever,” Will looks past Mike’s shoulder as the bell rings, ready for this conversation to be over. "It was years ago."
“I guess that day is when everything… changed.”
“Yeah,” Will says. "It was." He knows nothing Mike could say would fix it or undo the last two years and how he treated Will, but he does feel a little lighter, like stripping off a waterlogged jacket after being caught in the rain.
“It’s not okay. I–I’m sorry,” Mike says, and his eyes scan over Will’s face. “What I said… is so fucked up, Will. I promise it’s not true. I’m sorry.”
“Okay, Mike,” Will says. While he does feel lighter, his body is still cold. He is well aware that he is being extremely cold toward Mike right now, despite the apology. “I have to get to class. I’ll see you at home.”
Will takes a step to head back inside, but Mike grabs his arm to stop him. A small gasp slips from Will’s lips. Mike’s back curves slightly, so that his eyes are almost in line with Will’s. “Do you forgive me?”
“You didn’t mean it?” Will asks, voice small.
Make shakes his head and exhales. “Of course not, Will.”
Will melts a little. And how could he not? When Mike looks at him like that, fingers curling into his flannel. Will is like water in his hands.
He nods, tentative at first, and then more firm. He clears his throat. “I forgive you.”
Mike smiles, but still doesn’t release Will. “Can we watch a movie or something tonight in the basement? Just me and you.”
Will nods, a small smile pulling at his lips. “I’d like that.”
“You can pick. Let me know by the end of the day, and I’ll bike to Family Video after school.”
“Okay,” Will says, and his eyes fall to the place where Mike’s hand grips Will’s upper arm, to the mere inches of space between them. Mike’s eyes fall too, and he finally releases his grip, awkwardly taking a step back.
“Cool,” Mike says.
“Cool,” Will agrees.