Chapter Text
*April 23rd, 1991
“... such a wonderful woman, Hop.“
Sharp. Numb. Ache he cannot feel.
“... all grown up!“
Still here, still breathing.
“...chose a beautiful place…”
Different mouths saying the same words.
“... my condolences.“
Condolences.
Condolences for Joyce Byers.
*****
“I-It's hard to even begin to find the words for the kind of a woman Mrs. Byers - I mean Mrs. Hopper- Joyce- was.“
Now in the part where the ceremony is nearly over, those more stable than him give some parting words to hopefully soothe the ache of everyone sitting here. For some the wound is a bruise, some a broken arm. Will’s wound is more akin to a chest cavity, ripped open to reach for his heart in a fist until its beats slow down to a halt.
“Ever since I was a kid hanging out in my friend’s house, I saw her as this Supermom. She always showed interest in our childish worlds, and would probably take part in them if she didn't work so hard. She would fit in well, our fantastical adventures needed heroes with that much compassion and strength during hardships. After all, she… is the reason I still have said friend.”
It helps that the words trying to put a bandage over the missing organ are Mike's. It helps knowing they are coming from someone who knew her nearly as much as the rest of the family did.
“She always made me feel at home, she never minimized my feelings, even if she took the side of her son in a very important 6 year olds’ argument.”
Cacophony of snot-wet chuckles echo the funeral room.
“She was stubborn too. Unfiltered, fierce, brave. When we were all hurting, she made sure I was okay… Something her sons took after her in. The town she grew up with did nothing but throw sticks under her feet, yet she continued to spread so much love…”
Will hasn't properly looked at anyone since the start. He couldn't bear to look into Hopper's broken eyes when Nancy gently attempted to fix his mess of a tie. Couldn't look at Jonathan who held it together so professionally, like it's not someone from his family, like he’d done this before (he did), like he needed to stay strong for the rest of them.
The sadness in Lucas’ otherwise amused voice, the lack of Max’s remarks, the full-black attire on Dustin.
The few people that were there from the beginning or since the near end of the world made it in. People who mattered.
And just as if reading his thoughts, Mike begins to make a similar point.
“I'm selfishly glad that those who made it here are those who she’d want to be here. That even with my clumsy attempt at trying to describe her impact in just a couple of minutes, I know everyone here knows exactly what I mean anyway.”
Mike folds the paper with his speech that he didn’t really use anyway and hides it in his pocket.
“Joyce Byers was a 5'3” woman, but she contained multitudes.”
*****
They move outside, the casket gets lowered, the roses get tossed, the hands begin to get shaken and hugs get shared and that is it. The Joyce Hopper chapter is officially closed on paper and Will isn't sure what's the point to the rest of the book.
No one really teaches you what happens next.
No movies he watched ever showed him grief like this, the horror that comes from the loss instead of ghosts and fake guts. Even school’s required reading leaves a lot to be desired. So where does one prepare for the intensity of the great big nothing that now lives in you?
Hand lands on his shoulder.
“A-are you okay?”
Mike. Still with his boyish voice and all the Mike features he remembers, just now taller, with longer hair respectfully tamed for the occasion.
“I mean, obviously you aren't, can't imagine anyone could be… But are you going to be okay?“
Will can feel the neutrality of his face but can't move a muscle to change it.
“I don't feel much, Mike. “
Factual statement, but also a cry for help. He can no longer hide in his mother's arms, and Jonathan's and Hopper's are just as broken. Is Mike still a safe option, even after three years apart? Is it even a fair thing to ask?
He notices his friend’s Adam apple move as he swallows whatever he planned on saying next. It's easier to keep his gaze on other parts of Mike that are not his eyes right now. He has a couple of brown bracelets on his left wrist right above his watch.
He feels the fingers on his shoulder clench harder, making sure Will feels it over the thick fabric of his funeral suit.
“Hey…“ Both Mike and Will turn after the gentle voice to see Jonathan with a box in his hands. “You still up for the drive with me, buddy? We can always get you a ticket to go with Hopper.”
“Drive?” Even though his question was meant for Will, Mike chips in.
“We're helping to pack and move some of dad’s stuff back to Hawkins,” Will answers, surely leaving behind more questions instead.
“Yeah, 13 hours on the road,” Jonathan adds nervously “But it's cheaper that way. Offered to do it instead of Hopper, we… “
“Don't really want him behind the wheel right now, not for that long,” Will finishes.
Mike nods.
“To Hawkins?” Joins another distinct voice, Robin emerging from the back with a little sheepish wave “Hey, hi, um-”
Will wants to smile at her so badly but the corners of his mouth won't budge. Jonathan looks like he's bracing himself for a wave of badly chosen words.
“I just… Overheard. Thought I may ask even if it's not very appropriate- and by all means feel free to deny me- buut… You wouldn't happen to have a slot open for lil ol’ me in that car of yours?”
Will looks over at Jonathan.
“You heading back to Hawkins too?” He asks in surprise.
“Well not exactly, but it's on the way! Ohio, to be exact! I have… Oh god, business there. Meeting someone. Meant to just fly over but my passport- it's a whole thing.” Robin shakes her head, realizing she's rambling. “Can I?“
This time Jonathan looks to Will in a silent ‘is that okay’ question. Will nods.
“I guess I could use a passenger that keeps me awake.“ The older Byers says with a smile. “Are you pressed on time?”
“Nooo nonono! By all means take all the time you need, I'm super grateful, no demands or complaints here!”
Somewhere during this whole exchange, the hand on his shoulder disappeared.
“Alright, stick around, I just have to wrap something up here and then we'll swing by Hopper's apartment to load up the trunk. I expect you to help with that,” Jonathan says to Robin before he turns to Mike once more “Thank you for showing up, Mike. And for the beautiful speech. It meant a lot to all of us.”
Mike springs to attention like he's being acknowledged in class, stuttering ‘yeah, of course’ back. Jonathan gives him a final nod and leaves the three of them behind as silence takes them. Robin swings back-and-forth from her heels to her tiptoes, clearly uncomfortable with it.
There's one more goodbye ahead of Will, not as big as the one he gave to his mother, but not as easy as the one he gave to the rest of his core friend group.
Mike Wheeler. Because once Jonathan returns, he and Will (and now Robin) will take on the road to their old hometown while Mike moves in the opposite direction to continue his university life. Away from Hawkins, away from Will. And with that his last hope at replacing this loss with something that's real and his and good.
Will doesn't know what to do. Doesn't know what to ask for.
Robin clears her throat.
“Soo…. You two good?”
“Yeah, you?” Mike answers before Will can, mostly on autopilot.
“I don't mean in a general kind of way, I'm asking if the two of you are still good friends. We all kind of parted our ways so I was just curious where everyone stands. How much has changed and all that.”
They're good. Are they good? They're good. Will just… isn't, right now.
“Yeah we write each other letters here and there.” Robin frowns at that and suddenly Mike looks guilty like he realizes that's not good enough. “Don’t… really visit each other or anything though.”
That is certainly a thought that both of them entertained in many letters. It just never happened. Mike was descriptive of his flat and school and town and Will painted the picture of some experiences in a comics form. But they never got to go and see for themselves, to compare to their letters. And now Will has no dorm to go back to, as his decision to be by his mom’s side in her final moments cost him the enlistment.
“The first year apart, after your guys’ graduation, me, Steve, Nance and Jon agreed to not let it go. Us, I mean. Find the time, find the place half-way to all of us.” Robin smiles, lost in memory “We all felt it but no one brought it up til then, until we finally did meet and it was unbearable to not see each other for so long again.”
Will looks at her then, the first person he looks in the face today. Her eyes are unfocused, her lips parted in a toothy smile that falls the moment they lock eyes.
“Fuck, I'm just so sorry, Bowlcut.”
The sudden-ness of that topic change widens his eyes in surprise and squeezes at his heart, same heart he was sure he no longer had.
“I'm sorry for bringing it up, even if we're still here technically, I tried to talk about other things but one proper look at those doe-y eyes of yours and it just hit me like a truck-”
It's okay to cry, Will knows that. Hell, no one would be surprised if he cried. But he doesn't feel enough to have that reaction, instead aiming his gaze towards the ground. Where a couple of daisies grow next to the well-trimmed grass framing the end of the graveyard. Where Mike's shiny formal shoes end low enough to show a little bit of naked ankle instead of fun-colored socks.
“Y-You did so well with the ceremony though, she'd be so proud-” She tries to compliment but the words feel heavy in her throat.
“It isn't fair,” Mike states monotonely.
Robin then reaches down for a hug, her hands doing something between patting and rubbing Will’s back in comfort. Will doesn't really hug back, even if he hates himself for it, as he simply can't bring his arms to move.
They stay like this for a bit, with Mike static to the side.
They only pull away once Jonathan returns, and as if sensing some tension, Robin pulls Mike into a quick bro-like hug as well, his reaction awkward but polite.
“Sorry, guess I'm a hugger now since-” She stops herself. “Whatever. This right here is what matters, alright? Don't be strangers to each other.”
Mike’s eyes slide to Will. He's not looking back.
“Good to get going?” Jonathan asks into the group, receiving one ‘yeah’ from his yappy friend and a nod from his brother.
“Mike?” Will then finally addresses him, eyes still not on him, but arms open in an invitation that Mike takes immediately.
Unlike with Robin, Will meets Mike halfway on years old reflex, except now one’s on his tiptoes and one’s arching down to make up for their increased height difference. With one arm over his shoulder and the other around his torso, Will’s finally feeling fully enveloped in his friend’s ridiculously long limbs and familiar scent. There's a tickle on his cheek from a rogue black curl and faint shake to the fingers clutching at his back. Will tries his hardest for all of these sensations to mean something to him, even digs out his feelings of the past in hopes it replaces the numbing nothing. That maybe, just maybe, if they get close enough, Mike's heart could replace Will’s broken one, its beats vicariously pumping blood back through his shell of a body.
Will was so sure that their kind of friendship, not just Mike's, but all of their group’s, was meant forever. That they couldn't possibly ever find someone who'd understand just like they did. But one greatly underestimates the velocity life comes at you with. The lack of time for even one's own self, let alone for someone else. The studying, the part-time jobs to keep rents, the friends you make nonetheless, no matter how shallow, cause it's better than going day by day alone.
The death of someone you'd naively expect to live forever cause the alternative was too unbearable to think about.
They kept somewhat in touch through letters, but this is the proper first time they all met after years. And it's like this. When Will has nothing to say and the others don't know how to approach him and now most of them are gone, except Mike. Who's still holding him like it's their last contact for years.
And maybe it is. And he so wishes he could give it the love Will of the past would put into it, but all the color is gone and even his childhood best friend is in tones of gray.
The brunet is the first one to pull away from the hug, feet fully on the ground again, giving Mike a tight-lipped empty smile, despite his best efforts. The deep brown eyes staring back at him look full of words but his lips stay shut.
They used to have so much to say. Will used to love him so fully.
The carpool trio nod at each other as they start making their way away from where one part of Will’s heart is buried in the ground and the other is staying behind in a nice-fitting suit and brushed-back curls.
“Wait!”
And just like that the world stops.
“Can I come too?”
*****
Mike's sleeves are rolled to the elbows, his suit jacket discarded on one of the seats as Robin hands him boxes to load into the car. They form a chain from Hopper’s apartment to the vehicle, with Jonathan inside making sure everything with a sticky note on it is packed.
The sun was already setting during the ceremony and now the sky is fully drowned in dark orange-to-purple gradients by the time they’re done.
Mike took the lead with loading the trunk, something prideful about a Tetris practice, so Will isn't going to comment on the chair legs poking his face from the sides of his headrest or the loaded duffel bags taking space under their feet. Jonathan's car isn't big to begin with, but now with all the extra stuff it pushes Will closer to the middle seat, so he and Mike are almost hip-to-hip.
The driver's door opens and Jonathan slides in, turning around to assess the potential long-term discomfort of his passengers.
“Man, I thought you said you're good at this,” he says in that exhausted, soft, passive-aggressive voice.
Mike was currently trying to jam his long legs in between the car’s door and the duffel bags so they're not bent all the way to his chest, frowning at the tone. “There’s someone's literal entire life loaded in this shitty car, I'd say I did damn well impressive.”
“Well this shitty car is exactly what you knew you signed up for so unless you want me to drop you by the airport-“
To which Mike only huffs and rolls his eyes like a temperamental teenager.
Will almost smiles at the immature reaction, but ‘someone's entire life’ kept it too grounded in what today is.
“Will, are you good back there, buddy?”
Already having his seatbelt on, Will doesn't know what else to do with his hands so he runs them up and down his thighs to apologize to his legs in advance for how cramped up they're gonna feel in a couple of hours. “Yeah, yeah I'm good… ” He hesitates before adding, “I'd have about the same amount of leg space during a flight anyway.”
Mike points his hand towards Will, eyebrows raised in a ‘See?’ expression.
“Okay. We’ll do breaks so you can regularly stretch out. Don't hesitate to ask for anything, yeah?” He reassures and Will gives him a nod in response. Always in his parental mode.
“So!” Robin takes over, shuffling through the glove compartments “What music secrets does Jonathan Byers have in store for us?”
Jonathan ignites the engine, once, twice, clicking his tongue in annoyance, thrice, and the car finally starts. He rolls down his window to lean over the side of the car to get a view of where he's going as he starts reversing.
“None- radio’s busted. Happened on the way here. “
“You're kidding,” she whines. “Twelve hours without music? Radio silence? That's madness.”
“That's why I have you, right? Just… Fill the air with words as you always do,” Jonathan reasons, focused on not hitting any trash bins or mail boxes as he reverses without proper view outside of his back window with all the stuff in the way.
“As you wish! But first can I ask why are we even moving all… this? “ She gestures wildly at the packed car. “Why not stay in Montauk?”
“Hopper talked to me about it before… we agreed it's the best way forward. We spent a lot of money on mom’s treatment and ceremony, and now he has only one paycheck to live off of in an expensive city and a job he may struggle to keep now that he's grieving…” Jonathan sighs. “Hawkins is familiar, and mostly Hawkins is cheap. Selling this one for the money it does will buy him time to live comfortably while he picks himself back up again.”
Robin nods alongside his words, one leg propped up on a bump by the door that makes her look casually cool.
“Will’s gonna live with him for a bit too,” Jonathan adds hesitantly, wanting to include him. “So yeah, familiar is better.”
“No way, you are? How come?“ Robin turns her body around to see the back seats duo.
“Um… I-I dropped out of college when mom-” Will audibly swallows. “I wasn't attending my classes to be with her, was basically kicked out.”
“Shit…” she replies remorsefully and Will can see Mike turn to him in his peripheral vision.
“You didn't tell me…” He says in a soft voice, like he's wondering how many other things Will kept from him. “In my last letter, I was talking about finally visiting you so you can show me around, I feel like an idiot. “
“I-” He pauses. “I didn't get to read that letter anymore, was already gone by then… sorry. ” Something flashes over Mike's features, like he's taken aback, which now makes Will wonder what exactly was in that letter.
Robin cringes her features in guilt “Topic change! Jonathan!”
“Oh god, what now?”
“How is life with your incredible roommate and handsome best friend Steve Harrington?” She teases.
*****
The first hour and a half of their trip passes with Robin indeed filling most of the silence with various questions and jokes, mostly interacting with Jonathan but sometimes the younger two, too. Mike and Will are mostly quiet, occasionally bumping their knees when either or both of them shuffle in their seats to prevent cramping. Other than those brief contacts it’s quiet. Will’s staring out of the window and Mike’s looking forward through the front windshield like he's the one who has to pay attention to the road. It feels familiar, not sure if the good kind. All that’s missing is the extra seating space and the smell of weed with Californian sun.
“Baby Wheeler! You, like, write, right?”
Said Wheeler snaps his attention to the loudmouth riding shotgun. “Amongst other things,” he replies.
“So you're probably going to be awesome at this- Word Soccer, match the words, I challenge you!” She says enthusiastically. “I start- orange!”
Mike shakes his head in confusion, his hands animated as well. “Syringe?”
“No, you don't rhyme the words, you grab the last syllable and start a new word with it! Like dominoes.”
“You didn't explain anything!”
“Also ‘syringe’ isn't a rhyme to ‘orange,’” Jonathan adds, un-helpfully.
“How is that not a rhyme.” Mike grows increasingly frustrated.
“I think it rhymes,” Will defends quietly as he's spoken over by everyone immediately.
“It may be an accent thing? Like- O-range, sy-RINGE are technically not stressed the same but if you say them really fast and with a certain tone-”
*****
Two hours in, Will’s stomach rumbles so Mike demands a ‘piss break’. They stop at a gas station with an attached diner by the side of a rural road and realize they haven't eaten since before the funeral.
They all sit down at one of the many empty booths, various levels of casual undress from their funeral outfits, with Will and Jonathan taking opposite sides by the window and Mike and Robin sitting next to them respectively, mimicking their car seating order.
A perky middle aged lady greets them joyously, asks about the event for their formal attire, gives her condolences upon their reply and swiftly takes their orders.
By the time she brings each of them their free water, Jonathan pulls out a map out of his back pocket and spreads it open on his side of the table, studying it.
“Took a wrong turn somewhere?” Robin questions as she mindlessly plays with the menus, peeling off the corners of the lamination.
“No… Just seeing where it would be possible to cut on some time. I can't afford to take a lot of breaks but I'm already starting to feel tired,” Jonathan admits in defeat.
“You need me to switch with you?” Mike offers and Jonathan looks at him in surprise.
“You drive?”
“Yeah!” He exclaims and then briefly looks towards Will for reasons unknown. “Hold up-” Mike shuffles out of his seat and pats Robin twice on the shoulder, signalling to her to get out of hers as well so he can sit next to Jonathan.
“What route were you planning? Philadelphia or north?” Mike asks, now leaning into the older Byers’ space and studying the map with him.
“North towards Cleveland. It took us this long just getting out of New York City alone so I was thinking dodging big cities may help. Less highways but less traffic.”
“So taking I-80 West?” Mike asks with a finger following said route.
Their driver-relevant dialogue continues muffled to Will’s ears. He's sure that on a different day he’d find Mike's casual maturity very attractive, but right now his mind wanders back to the fact that his destination is an empty soulless house back in that hell town. Robin snaps her fingers at him.
“What can WE offer to the party dynamic I wonder?” She smiles at him, lowering her head into her arms that are now fully resting on the table.
“Well, YOU'RE the radio,” Will answers, eyes tired but fond amusement finds its way back into his voice.
“And YOU’RE the glue!” She glazes.
“Not much of a role then… It made sense when it was supposed to be just me and Jonathan so I can keep him awake, but now I feel like I'm taking space we're low on,” Will says, pushing spilled salt from previous booth occupants around to form a simple doodle with.
“So you think it'd make more sense for me, Jonathan and Mike travel without you?” She asks with a stink face, the insane concept of that group forming naturally. “If you didn't go, Mike wouldn't go.” She nods towards the occupied duo across them. “And right now it sounds like Jon could exactly use a Mike. See? All you!”
That earns her a little smile from the grieving boy and that enough is a small victory in her book.
She reaches her finger into whatever Will was arranging out of salt on the table and begins her own artistic expression.
Will lets her, and when she pulls away to admire her work, he asks, “And what's that supposed to be?”
“Pussay-,” she says with an exaggerated accent and it's at that moment the waitress is back with four plates professionally balancing on her arms.
“Here I got you one better,” she mocks, letting the two know she heard and saw and Robin could fall through the ground right about now, Will’s face equally red as he smears the picture.
Jonathan pulls the map aside, unaware of the other side of the table, as Mike reaches to help with placing each plate.
“Bon apetit!” She wishes and just like that she's onto another table with a swing in her hip.
The sound of cutlery on a plate and baked goods crunching fills the space between them, alongside some very pleased groans speaking of the quality of the food. Nothing beats home-like cooking.
“Sooo what dud you figuh out?” Robin asks with her mouth full, getting a disgusted frown from Mike across her (like he doesn't do the same thing).
“Mike's gonna take over driving so I can get some shut eye, been at it since yesterday and then the prep and… “ Jonathan answers, fork hanging off his fingers, “Thing is I have to be in Hawkins by noon and leave right after”
“We’ll see how long I last, and by the time I'm tired, I’ll just dip at a truck stop to sleep so we don't have to deal with finding an inn. Continue tomorrow morning again,” Mike finishes.
Mike driving through the night… Meaning he won't be sharing the backseat with Will anymore, meaning Will won't be able to pretend to fall asleep on his shoulder. Maybe it's stupid, dreaming up scenarios like this, like it's going to change something. Or happen.
“Oh,” Will says without realizing and now all eyes are on him.
“You good with that? I know it's not very comfortable back there, but without having to be seatbelted, you could rearrange yourself somehow?” Jonathan quickly adds with guilt in his tone.
“No! Sorry, I-I'm fine, really, don't worry about me! Just, are we all swapping seats then? Should I keep you company?“ Will asks towards Mike.
“While I would LOVE for you to get a better spot, Bowlcut, I'm afraid all of me has no way of fitting back there,” the blonde next to him chips in instead.
“Yeah, just me and Mike. Are you sure it's okay? We could ask for more local maps or advice, stop early today and get a proper sleep in, start earlier tomorrow?” His brother offers once again. Gentleness cutting right into Will’s insecurity of ruining every moment.
“I said it's fine!” He near-yells, making the others flinch except for Mike who keeps his eyes steady on him. That deep brown burning holes right through him.
They all continue their meal in silence and Will wants to rip his skin off.
*****
After two more hours of travel, Jonathan pulls over to switch seats with Mike as he came dangerously close to driving to the opposite lane twice, his eyes heavier than usual.
*****
“Adorable, aren't they?” Robin asks fondly, her neck stretched to look back at the Byers brothers covered by their suit jackets like it's a blanket, heads leaning onto each other as they have finally fallen asleep.
Mike only gives a quick glance to the rear view mirror, trying not to distract himself from the road. Except he takes another look, back to the road, and then another.
“Yeah. Looks like they could have used the rest.” Now fully back to the road. “So let's keep it that way and not wake them up.”
Robin’s gaze lingers on the driver after she notices the undertone in that statement.
“You don't like me very much, do you?”
“I genuinely barely know you.”
“We saved the world together?”
“We were both there, yes.”
Curious. Entertaining even, Robin thinks as she arranges herself to a more laid back position in her seat, body fully tilted towards Mike.
“True, I mostly spent time with Will out of your little group. He was quite easy to befriend.” She smiles at the memory. “And corrupt! First thing we did together was disobey his mother.”
“Yeah, I've noticed you two buddied up out of nowhere.” It may have been a flicker of light from the street lamps passing by, or it may have been Mike clutching the steering wheel just a bit tighter.
“We've all had our roles to play, right? There are no hard feelings. Also,” she attempts to defuse. “It turned out we had a common interest-”
“What could you possibly have to talk about? “
“-Boys!”
Mike sits up a bit straighter, trying to make it look like he just naturally decided to stretch his shoulders at that moment.
“I haven't met many people like…” She pauses, “Whatever. Thing is, when I first saw what was happening with him, when I understood, I was afraid he'd go through the same pain I did, so I gave him this advice where I tried to prepare him with self-love and acceptance and- I think you missed your turn by the way.”
Mike understands it as a metaphor before he literally sees the turn onto his highway pass his car.
“Fuck-!” He swears and looks for an opportunity to chuck a U-turn. This damn loudmouth distracting him. The maneuver is far from graceful, there's honking coming from drivers around him, and he can hear a little sleepy groan coming from the back seats.
“Jesus! You know there will be a next turn right-”
“Just go to sleep, I'll manage better without you,” he huffs, and if just the tilt of his eyebrows and tension in his jaw doesn't say it all.
“I'm not your enemy, Wheeler, I'm trying to-” Robin brings a hand to her face, getting frustrated with herself as well for not finding the right words when there's a ticking bomb driving her car right now.
“Maybe it's not my place,” she attempts. “But he was SO in love with you back then. I'm just trying to see why.”
Maybe she should have watched for his reaction instead of checking if the other two were awake and listening, because Mike got quiet and upon looking at him again, she could no longer read his face. Either way, he gives her nothing to work with so she rolls her eyes and leans her head on the hand that's propped on her raised knee.
“‘Cause right now you're giving me zero reasons. I guess he's allowed bad taste at first, probably moved on already.”
If she can't get him to be honest naturally, she may do so by provoking. She knows the kind of person Mike is and she does have experience with another Wheeler.
“I've looked after him since we were kids. He feels safe with me. I feel-” Mike replies without hesitation, attitude in his voice.
“Is that why you're here? Had to feel needed again?”
“Do you want me to crash this car? What-what is this?!“ More sleepy groans come from behind him when his voice raised just enough there, making him pivot to a frustrated whisper instead. “Are you this bored you have to rile me up?”
“Kinda?” She adds to the fire. “But honestly, in a couple of hours I'm leaving this car, so I'd sleep better knowing you're not going to unintentionally hurt him even more by being in his space again. OR, if my read on you is correct, waste an opportunity by being so damn…” She gestures wildly. “Passive.”
*****
Will wakes up to a night-lit parking lot outside his windows and the car engine now shut down. He'd much prefer closing his eyes again, but he's but a prisoner to his bladder. Robin and Jonathan are both sleeping, Mike seems to be gone, so he takes the empty front seat as his escape route. Un-buckling his seat and gently repositioning Jonathan’s head to the head rest instead, he gracelessly crawls to the front of the vehicle, his foot getting stuck on the various bullshit loaded around the car, losing his sneaker in the process.
He expects to have to look for a bush or corner to go behind, but the car’s resting spot is meters away from a gas station with “WC” neon conveniently facing his way. Thankfully it's one of those 24/7 open ones where you don't have to go ask for a key at the reception, so he makes his way over, one shoe one sock. The whiff of public bathrooms hits him immediately after opening the door, suddenly considering changing his location to the bush instead, but he stays strong.
Except now he makes the conscious decision to hop on his shoed foot.
Washing his hands afterwards, he adds his face to the minimal on-the-road hygiene before he studies himself in the mirror. He's never looked more like his brother than when his hair goes in multiple directions and his eyes have noteworthy bags under them. He sighs and stumbles out of the room into the fresh air again.
Looking back towards the car, he notices Mike leaning on the trunk of the car, one hand in his jeans’ pocket and the other around what seems to be a cup of gas station coffee. The whole atmosphere of it makes Will wish he had a sketch book, or a camera.
Mike spots him once he gets closer, giving him a two-finger greeting with the hand holding his cup, and a smile.
“Someone robbed you of the other one?” He jokes, pointing his head towards Will’s one-shoe situation.
“Yeah, they realized I had nothing else on me,” Will plays along, his tone deadpan yet still Mike answers in a chuckle. Then silence as he sips on his caffeine. They aren't alone by any means, but in this moment it felt like they were.
The night sky was beautiful outside of big cities.
“I see the ‘radio’ died.” The brunet tries to re-kindle the conversation again.
“Yeah, but she had a lot to say before she did. Made me crave a cigarette and I don't even smoke.”
“Please don't ever start,” leaves Will’s mouth desperately before he can stop himself, once again making it somewhat about his mother. Mike’s eyes soften.
“I won't, sorry.”
He could have defended himself that it was just a joke, but Will really appreciates that he went the genuine considerate route instead.
“I take it you two didn't get along then? Judging by your tone…” Back to Robin.
“Actually…” Mike starts, swirling the little wooden spoon in his leftover beverage. “She kinda makes sense if you think about what she's saying.“
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Will nods to that, not expecting Mike to elaborate. He can keep his secrets.
Once again they fall into a comfortable silence. The smaller man then sniffles and rubs his hands together, the late night air hitting differently now that all the heat of the car is gone from his skin.
“You should go back inside, we'll be leaving soon,” Mike orders softly.
“You still plan on driving some more?”
“That's what this was for.” He shakes the now empty cup. “I brought some water and snacks too, for emergencies. Feel free to have at it.”
“Thanks, Mike,” Will says quietly. “For everything.”
For a second there, Mike simply observes his face, chest rising and falling in deep breaths, before crumpling the cup and littering it on the ground.
“Keep your praises for when we get there, alright? Car, now!” He playfully swats at Will then.
Listening this time, Will makes it back to the car with Mike in tow, unceremoniously doing acrobatics to get back to the back seat as Mike helps him by pushing his butt forward, sitting down in his driver's seat after. He checks in the rear view mirror for when Will gets his seatbelt on and watches him huddle under his jacket once more before catching Mike's eyes in the reflection. He attempts a smile, and so do Mike's eyes before they're gone from the view as he looks down at the ignition.
The car behaves this time on the first try and they're steered back on the road.
*****
“Ye ye, it should be down the road and once you see the VHS store just turn right, there's a parking lot you can turn around on.”
Will’s ears wake up before the rest of him as they register Robin’s frantic directions.
“You want me to drop you at a parking lot? Why not in front of the house of whoever you're visiting?” Mike argues.
“I'll walk, thanks!”
“... Okay.”
Will finally fully opens his eyes and looks out of the window to see the aforementioned store as Mike turns the corner.
“Oh, you're leaving already?" He says towards Robin, catching both of their attention. “We barely got to talk, I just slept through it all, I feel bad…”
“Awww Bowlcut,” she cooes in almost a motherly voice, unbuckling her belt so she can reach over to the back seats and squish his cheeks. “We'll catch up on each other's life at some point, promise! Be good for me, yeah?”
She smiles before manically turning back in her seat, putting her high boots back on and giving herself a quick do-over in a mirror as she opens the door to get out. Leaning back into the car, she looks at Mike and gives him a quick little ‘Thanks for the ride, Nancy Jr’ and blows a kiss to Will and sleeping Jonathan before she takes off.
The passenger door shuts and Mike turns to Will. Will looks at Mike.
“Crave some more leg space?” He asks, pointing to the seat next to him with a thumb.
“How long til we're in Hawkins?” Will considers.
“I don't know, about 3 to 4 hours?”
“Then definitely yes!”
Will unbuckles himself and goes through another humiliation ritual to get to the front, sighing in exaggerated relief once he’s seated and his legs stretch out. There's a crack to his knee that makes him wince.
“You're so old,” Mike mocks in fake disgust.
“Old AND hungry, where are those promised snacks?”
Mike exhales in a chuckle and stretches over to Will’s space to open the glove compartment instead of simply telling him. The brunet pulls out the bag to reveal colorful sweet and sour worms. Candy.
“Are you twelve…?”
“It's literally a snack, I wasn't lying!”
“You could have got some crackers or something more neutral. And filling.”
“This would have gotten you excited a few years back,” Mike retaliates with zero venom in his voice.
“Hmm,” is all Will gives him as he tears open the scandalous choice of a breakfast. At least it'll chase away the taste of morning breath if nothing else.
Mike doesn't get to move the car before he feels hand on his shoulder.
“Mike… What time is it? Don't tell me you drove the whole night?” Jonathan nearly whispers in a sleepy rasp, rubbing his eyes.
“Yeah I'm… it was no big deal staying up, I had coffee and Robin and lots of sleep the day before.”
“Robin’s gone already? Are we in-”
“-Lorain, yeah.”
“No, wait, I can't ask you for more, this is nuts, let me-” Jonathan starts shuffling under his blanket-jacket to unbuckle his seatbeat and attempt to get out of the car.
Mike understands the memo and despite it being no big deal to him, Jonathan’s already waiting outside of his door to switch so he's not gonna protest. Jonathan takes a minute to stretch his legs and back and then they maneuver around each other. Mike curses under his breath when it's his turn to fit in the back of the car with all the luggage again.
“Indianapolis is about an hour and half from here, wanna stop there for food before we head towards Bedford?” The older Byers asks, his head switching from Will to Mike. Will seems to have lost his appetite for the gummies since his passenger changed.
“Yeah, sounds good, right Will?“ Mike offers and the brunet nods. Jonathan's eyes soften with a final look at his brother before he clears his throat and puts his hands on the steering wheel again.
There's not much of note happening since Robin left. The car is quiet, rest for the rattling noises of an old engine, and the air is fresh with spring. Will feels like there's a force in his throat stopping him from breathing it in properly and fog in his brain that replaces his usual overthinking with static noise.
Four hours more and he'll be back in Hawkins, in a house he doesn't recognize, with Jonathan and Mike leaving again. Everyone will be off to continue their lives, and he'll be lost and stuck and alone.
*****
They go through the streets he remembers like the back of his hand. Even if it was only a couple of years, time in Hawkins stood still - the same stores, same fashion on display, even the same forgotten posters partially torn by weather and hooligans.
Jonathan navigates based on the address instructions left from Hopper, driving past the richer neighbourhoods and naturally heading towards the town outskirts (but not quite into the woods as either of their cabins from before). They arrive at a white trailer house with an overgrown garden, no tree shade whatsoever, and a lamp post slightly tilted.
Mike turns in his seat to look at Will who's studying his new place without judgement.
“Welcome home,” he says with kindness in his voice that Will usually gets to hear only when they're alone. Or… When they were alone.
Jonathan stops his car in the driveway and lets out a long exhale. It's never been easy on any of them, moving that is. But just like with anything, Jonathan seems to simply accept it as the cards they are dealt.
They all exit the vehicle and Jonathan pops the trunk open, analyzing Mike's order to see what would be the smartest thing to start with.
“Hey, uh, can I first-” Will starts, pointing to the front door.
“Oh yeah, sure! “ Jonathan shuffles in his pocket, pulling out the house keys and handing them to the younger one who thanks him quietly.
Mike follows Will as he unlocks the door, grunting a little when they need more of a push to open, and then both of them are greeted to a long hallway and empty rooms. It has a distinct smell, like a grandparents’ house, but not from the vintage furniture, but simply from the lack of anything new and alive to fill the space.
“Those two windows are really cool, facing east and west so you're getting all that atmospheric light through the whole corridor. Bet that looks awesome during sunsets or full moons!” Mike gestures enthusiastically, finding the silver linings. And it works, Will indeed sees it as something cool now.
They check on the state of the bathroom, the basic kitchen, and then go check the view from the bedroom’s back window only for the shutters to detach and fall on the ground from how old and crusty they were.
It's half hilarious and half sad.
Mike points out that at that height it'd be very easy for someone to crawl through his window and Will should get those shutters looked at. As far as Will’s concerned, these potential murderers are free to take him.
There's not much else to the tour so they return to Jonathan who already pulled out some stuff and just like during packing, they form a well oiled machine of getting stuff inside. Jonathan occasionally helps Will with heavier stuff and Mike asks Will where goes what, like he's the lady of the house. Most of the furniture is dismantled, so that'll be a second step, a step that Jonathan won't be participating in based on the look on his face.
“I'm really sorry for not being able to stay longer.” He reaches for Will's shoulder in a comforting manner. “Will you be okay with all this? Hopper should arrive in the evening, he can help you with whatever you don't feel like assembling now.”
“Yeah, I'll be fine.”
Jonathan nods to the reassurance and pulls his younger brother into a tight hug, breathing him in. “I'll be back in a few weeks. We can go to the arcade then, or take some cool new photos of this place. New memories.”
Will tries to nod against him but they are locked in like two puzzles; no wiggle room.
Jonathan pulls away and ruffles his hair, eyes glassy. “Love you buddy, stay strong.”
He then sends a salute towards Mike, who's leaning against the front doorway, arms crossed and legs forming the number “4”, clearly giving them space.
Will watches him get in the car, wait there for a moment as if he's reconsidering, and then finally start the engine again as tires crunch the dirt of the driveway under them and drive off.
Will stays looking at the road the car disappears in before he turns around to Mike who gives him a careful smile. Pulling a hammer from the windowsill, he shakes it to Will. “Ready for manual labour?”
Will groans and lazily makes it back to the house.
*****
Will actually argues for a shower first, rummaging through one of his duffel bags to find spare clothes, towel and toothpaste. He ignores his reflection in the mirror as he strips down and tests the water. The plumbing creaks in old age and the temperature takes a couple of seconds to catch up, but other than that it's heaven. He makes sure to be quick, making an educated guess of there being a very limited supply of hot water before it runs out, and Mike may want to refresh himself as well.
He brushes his teeth and exits the room with wet hair and casual wear of an oversized shirt with a scrubbed off band logo on it and some sweatpants.
Mike is squatting above one of the big boxes, pulling out parts of it for assembly.
“You wanna go too? I can lend you some clothes,” Will offers, gaining his attention.
“Hm? Oh no I'm good, thanks. Just if you have a mouthwash or something, I'll be heading home after this so I can-”
“Yeah. It's all in there.”
“Cool.” Mike slaps his hands on his knees and stands up from his squat.
*****
First they put together a mid-sized wardrobe so there's somewhere to put clothes in. It takes them a few tries and few re-assembles to get it right, but the end result looks correct and the drawers fit in so it's a win.
There's an armchair and a little table with two chairs around it, the living room serving also as a dining room as the kitchen occupies the same space at the opposite end. Mike suggests putting shelves on the wall there so they can unpack all of the little trinkets on top of it, some books, some photos, and eventually a TV that'll go underneath. Will is mesmerized, watching him gesture and point with intention, planning these places like they're decorating their own shared space. ‘It's very humble right now but it will fill up!‘
The last thing to put together is the bed. Hopper said he'll take the living room couch so Will can have his own room, and that maybe they'll eventually re-purpose the shed in the back into a guest house. Will has issues with that but no fight in him to resist.
The bed frame is easy enough to understand. Will holds the pieces together and Mike professionally hammers down everything meant to connect without hitting his finger once. The siderails, the headboard, the middle are all locked in firm, then slats and a mattress.
Mike gives it a try and hard falls his ass on the bed, bouncing slightly before he settles and runs his fingers over the material of the mattress.
“Seems good to me!” He reports. Will joins his side on the bed and quietly looks around the room. Empty room, safe from the one bed and a window.
“Hey…” There's that soft voice again. “I know it doesn't look like much right now, but it can still be a home.”
But home is not the four walls and a roof to Will, it's the love and safety that died a few days back. It descends upon him then, and for the first time since her death, Will’s eyes finally swell with tears. It's impossible to stop the dam from breaking now.
Mike of course notices immediately, as he was already looking his way, and he pulls Will close to him. They sit on the bed in a side embrace, Mike's watch-wearing hand petting Will’s hair as the shorter man wets his shirt with tears, and the room with unfiltered sobs and panicked hiccups.
It's been minutes yet they stayed like this without a single word, Mike's hand movements slowing down into an eventual halt. Will could feel the leftovers of his sorrow leave his throat and he makes the brave decision to look at his friend's face. The pose they're in makes it rather clumsy to do so, so Will has to lean back a bit, but there's zero resistance from the hand holding him.
That's when he notices that Mike has fallen asleep.
Of course. He has been paying attention to the road the whole night and instead of resting helped put together half his new house by now. He must have been so exhausted and Will didn't even consider it. Selfish. So selfish.
Will should have laid him down on the mattress to get a proper sleep as he himself puts together a makeshift bed on the floor, but instead he gently shakes his shoulder in an attempt to wake him. He can't stretch this for longer than he deserves. He needs to give goodbye to Mike as well.
“Mike…” Nothing. He shakes his shoulder again, watching his head drop down without the extra support of Will’s body being there. “Mike.”
Will then puts his hand into a fist and without any real force bumps the top of his head. That does the trick as Mike jumps in his spot with a sudden loud breath intake and reflexively wipes away potential saliva from his mouth.
“Sorry to wake you up, just figured you'd want to go home at some point…” The brunet apologizes and Mike runs hand over his face to rub his eyes awake some more.
“No yeah you're right. I should.” He does that thing he does by putting both hands on his knees before standing up and clears his throat. He stands there in front of Will for a bit, clearly searching for words to say.
“You could go with me, you know? We could sleep in the basement like good old times. Just for tonight, before I leave tomorrow?”
Will can feel a twinge of warmth in his chest at the feeling that Mike doesn't want to let go quite yet either. After all, he knew Joyce for most of his life too. And then there was El, and their group not being together as much as they all imagined. He must miss the familiarity too.
How did Robin say it? ‘Once we met up again it became unbearable to stay separated.’ Something like that.
He could go. He should go.
“I should probably stay here for when Hopper gets back…” leaves his mouth instead.
“Makes sense,” Mike agrees and Will wishes he didn't.
He watches as the taller man crosses the room over to grab his suit jacket tossed onto some boxes and folds it around his forearm. Then turning back to him.
“So…”
“So,” Will mimics
“This is goodbye?” Mike finally voices what's happening and Will’s stomach drops.
“I think so.”
“But…when will we see each other again? With the others and stuff?”
“I don't know. Soon, hopefully?”
Mike's eyebrows tilt in that expressive way, switching between hope of wanting to believe Will and sadness knowing that it isn't true.
“Soon,” Mike confirms. Lies.
His eyes find and leave Will's about three times before he gives him a smile, tapping the door frame of his bedroom and turns on his heel.
Will watches Mike leave through the corridor, drowned in a golden glow from that window facing west.
*****
Will isn't sure when Hopper actually got home, but he knows he was home because of the snoring coming from the living room. He meant to wait for him, but had nothing to occupy himself with as even drawing in his sketchbook failed him and that frustration just sped run the need to sleep.
He is also only aware of Hopper's snoring because he got woken up by noises outside of his window and his creative mind filled his head with images of serial killer cases and worse: the memories of monsters that should be long gone. Still he decides he needs to re-affirm it's nothing if he is to fall asleep again.
He climbs out of the bed and takes a deep breath before going towards the window. The lack of any light at the back of this house makes it so that he can't really see anything but the darkness of the night. Except…
He opens the window to get a better look.
“Hi!” Comes out an excited whisper, good three inches from his own face.
Will’s love for horror trained him better than this so he doesn't scream, especially when his eyes adjust and he makes up a pale complexion with black curls staring back at him.
“Mike?”
“Told you it's climbable!” He jokes and pushes his weight shakily through the window fully. Will makes space for him and asks the obvious:
“What are you doing here?”
Mike pats down whatever dirt got on his clothes from climbing the house as he casually answers.
“I didn't dare to use the door, Hopper would kill me.”
Probably true, but that wasn't the main point of the question.
“You know what I mean by that,” Will warns.
“I'm kidnapping you!” Mike grabs his shoulders. “...Consensually!”
Will knows he looks like he's in shock but that's because he is.
“B-But where? W-why?”
“Back to my uni place! You can finally visit, like we talked about!” Mike holds the same enthusiasm as when he first found out about Will’s powers. “I’ll cancel my plane tickets and we’ll take my car and continue the adventure!”
“M-Mike, but my dad-”
“Leave a note on his bed! Let him know you're safe, that life is fleeting and-and you're gonna live it!” He tightens his grip on Will's shoulder and inches closer to his face “It'll be easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. And by the time he wakes, we’ll have driven through the state!”
Will lets out a shaky breath, his heart thumping inside his chest so strongly after months of nothing, he feels like he may faint now. Adventure… Such a childish concept... Was it naive to crave that still in his 20s?
“You-You're packed already anyway, we can go right now! Right now…” Mike's confidence seems to get more shaken the longer Will doesn't agree to his spontaneous proposition.
“O-kay,” Will breathes out before he can argue himself out of potential happiness again.
“Okay??”
“Yeah, okay,” Will smiles and so does Mike, the genuine brightness of it the only light in the room.
Mike grabs the duffel bag that he knows belongs to Will and slithers back through the window. Will grabs his sketchbook and writes a quick note for Hopper.
When he looks back, Mike is hanging in the window, looking into the room as if to make sure Will’s really coming.
“Okay?” He asks for reassurance again.
“Okay!”
And Will follows him out of the window into the night.