Chapter Text
As they dart across town, mostly sticking to the heavily wooded areas, the boy doesn’t offer any more conversation. He doesn’t even speak to Mike about where to go; he just keeps yanking him by the arm when they need to switch directions. Mike tries not to linger on the fact that this guy seems to know exactly where they are at all times, despite every corner of the Upside Down looking the same to Mike.
Mike isn’t known for being able to keep his mouth shut. He’s flighty, talks a mile a minute, and can’t sit still to save his life. So, as they rush through the mangled version of his small Indiana town, without a noise of conversation, Mike wants to scream. He has so many questions.
Who is this boy? Why is he here? How the hell does he have powers? Why does he seem to know Hawkins like the back of his hand? How did he know Hopper used to be the Hawkins Chief of Police? Why did he stare at Mike’s hat hair like that? Why does Mike feel so damn flustered when the boy looks at him? Why do his kind eyes appear to be the only possible semblance of good in this hellscape? Why can’t Mike stop looking at him?
Well, that part Mike understands just fine. It’s the part of himself he’s been trying to swallow down for the better half of the past two years. It’s the reason why his eyes can’t help but trace the outline of the boy in front of him.
Maybe in other circumstances, Mike would indulge in these feelings rising within him. But right now, he has bigger issues at hand, such as getting back home and not dying while doing so. And, despite the gut feeling that this boy is someone he can trust, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s a complete stranger.
A hot stranger… the most annoying voice in Mike’s head adds on.
As they walk, Mike tries not to linger on the fact that the boy keeps tugging his bandana down to wipe at his nose. Most of Mike trusts that they are actually headed in the direction of Lover’s Lake. Another part of him wonders if the boy is just luring him to Vecna to be killed on sight.
Mike can’t take it anymore.
“Who are you?” he blurts out. The boy walking in front of him ignores the question. So, Mike presses on. “Why are you even helping me- us? Why did you save my life?”
For a moment, Mike is convinced his voice was carried away with the rumble of thunder. Then, the boy gives as cryptic an answer as he always does.
“I’m… nobody.”
“Bullshit,” Mike scoffs as they continue walking. He asks again, "Why’d you save my life?”
The boy shrugs, but doesn’t turn around.
“I…” He trails off before answering. It comes out low, as a mumble. “I don’t know. It was the right thing to do.”
Mike’s eyebrows raise. “So, you’re not gonna kill me?
“Kill you?”
“I mean, clearly you could,” Mike reasons. He’s teetering on a fine line, but considering this stranger hasn’t killed him yet, it doesn't hurt to make sure. “You just killed a demogorgon with your mind.”
Curiously, the boy glances over his shoulder. He looks almost… fond. “You call them demogorgons, too?”
“Yeah,” Mike shrugs. “It’s from this game, Dungeons and-”
“-Dragons,” the boy finishes with him. He slows a little to fall in step with Mike.
Mike blinks. So the superpowered teenager in the Upside Down has a cool hobby… that’s… that’s weird, for sure. But Mike can think of weirder things.
“I just- it looked exactly like how Vecna- er, Henry- kills his victims. With the twisting and the floating…” Mike trails off. He clears his throat when the boy offers him a flat look. “Anyway! My point is, I only know one other person, besides Henry, who can do that, and-”
“Wait, you know someone else who can do that?”
Seeing the boy’s shock, Mike bites his lip. Maybe he shouldn’t be revealing El’s identity to strangers, especially when she’s actively on the run from the government.
“Um… no?” Mike offers weakly, scratching s at the back of his neck.
The boy narrows his eyes.
Mike can’t take the intensity of his gaze. “Anyway…” He chokes out an awkward cough. “So, are you gonna kill me?”
The boy lets out a frustrated sigh. He speaks more to himself than to Mike as he mutters, “I sure hope not.”
And, that- that does not make Mike feel any better.
The boy pushes ahead, snaking around decayed shrubbery with ease. Mike moves with much less ease. As they shuffle down a short but steep hill, Mike’s foot skids away from him. He loses his balance entirely, careening forward with a yelp. He grapples uselessly to try to catch himself with a weak tree branch, but he ends up colliding with the boy.
“Whoa-!”
The boy steadies him with both hands on his torso. Mike’s hands land on his chest, and he is confident his face is the warmest thing in the entire Upside Down. He feels like he’s on fire.
Mike winces at himself and leans out of the boy’s grasp. “Sorry.”
For a moment, the boy’s hands remain outstretched, and he just stares at them. His eyebrows knit together, and for a moment, Mike thinks he looks confused. Then, he shakes his head.
“We’ll make better time if you watch where you’re going.”
It’s inherently rude, but the way the boy says it sounds earnest. He states it because it’s the truth. And he seems entirely oblivious to Mike’s scowl as he turns back around again.
Desperate to get his mind off his stumble and the way the boy's arms felt around him, Mike’s instinct is to fill the silence again.
“So… how long have you been looking for Vecna?”
“I don’t know,” the boy responds, shrugging. “A long time.”
Mike can’t help but roll his eyes. “Well, that’s specific.”
“It’s hard to track time down here,” the boy explains. “Henry was hurt, maybe a year or so ago? He’s been missing since.”
Henry was hurt…
Mike thinks back to his never-ending, miserable road trip across the country. Eleven in a pizza dough freezer. Stories of Nancy shooting Vecna’s body point-blank. Hawkins splitting open and erupting in otherworldly fumes and ash. It all happened a year and a half ago, and they haven’t been able to find Vecna since.
Mike’s questions keep piling on top of each other in his mind.
How did this guy learn about Vecna? How is it that he’s been looking the entire time they have? Has he been coming back and forth like Hopper? How has he gotten past the military undetected? Is he with the government? Is he with the Russians? Do the Russians know about Vecna?
Mike inspects the boy’s bag and his ratty jacket. He doesn’t really look Russian, and he certainly doesn’t sound Russian.
Instead of throwing them all at the stranger, he settles on asking, “How long have you been down here?”
The boy glances at him. “A very long time.”
Mike waves his hand, frustrated. “But- how has Hopper never run into you before?” He speaks more to himself than to the boy. “Or- or Nancy and Steve and Robin?” And Eddie, Mike thinks miserably. “They were down here for- well, I don’t know how long, but a while that week. Even Jonathan has been down here before-”
“What?” the boy cuts him off. He blinks owlishly at Mike.
“Sorry,” Mike shakes his head. “It’s just- my sister. And, some other… friends,” Mike explains lamely.
Mike doesn’t know if he can qualify Jonathan as a friend. He thinks they are more bound-forever-in-their-grief buddies than actual friends. It’s nice to have someone who gets it, but whenever he looks at Jonathan, a part of him can’t help but see…
Mike pushes the thought away. “My point is, how has no one run into you before?”
The boy looks a little lost in his head, eyes unfocused.
“I’m good at hiding.”
Mike wants to scream. This guy is giving him nothing.
“Do you ever talk in anything other than short, cryptic, confusing sentences?”
The boy furrows his brow and glares at Mike. He doesn’t answer.
“That’s a no, then,” Mike states under his breath.
The boy stops abruptly in his steps, holding an arm out in front of Mike, halting him as well. “We’re here.”
Mike looks out at the absolute wasteland that lies where Lover’s Lake should be. In the summertime, he and his friends used to spend all day at the lake, soaking in the sun, dunking each other in the water, trying hopelessly to cling to whatever innocence they still had after… well, everything. What he sees before him is just a desert, a huge parting in the trees with vines weaving all across it.
“Where’s the gate?” Mike asks, scouring the view before him for any signs of a red glow.
The boy points to their left. “It’s on the edge of the treeline.”
“Okay, let’s go,” Mike doesn’t hesitate to step forward, but the boy stops him again.
He shakes his head. “We can't go out into the open, the bats will come.”
Demobats. Mike shudders at the thought.
Then, he feels a pang in his stomach as his mind drifts to Eddie again. He knows they’re miles from the trailer park, but he has this gnawing fear of stumbling across… him. Mike isn’t sure what happens to anyone who doesn’t make it out of here, about the biology of it all, or if the–wildlife–gets to them, but he certainly doesn’t want to find out.
He certainly doesn’t want to find…
Mike shakes his head roughly, snapping himself from that train of thought. Get it together, he tells himself. You’re only thinking about him ‘cause you’re down here.
Since Mike has been trudging through the forest, he’s been able to notice more than when he was running from the demo. The sky has stayed ominous and cloudy, thundering and flashing with what looks like red lightning. The fog pools around their ankles when they’re downhill. And it’s so cold that Mike can see his breath as little puffs. Other than the constant roar of thunder, the world is still and silent.
How could a twelve-year-old possibly endure navigating this horrible place all alone?
A bitter thought crosses his mind. Well, he couldn’t.
Thinking about it all, Mike feels twelve years old himself. He feels like he’s staring into a short grave with a small casket lying unburied as a minister offers empathetic words that fall on his deaf ears. Out of everyone grieving, Mike should’ve been the first to accept it. He saw the body in the quarry. He could never forget the image. It has plagued his dreams for years.
But even back then, Mike knew the truth. He knows that despite the way the town whispers about Joyce Byers behind her back, muttering bout how she belongs in Pennhurst, she is right about her son. He didn’t just go missing. He was lost in the Upside Down.
Just after the police dragged a body from Sattler Quarry, Eleven gave Mike proof. She connected Mike’s walkie to somehow get through to the Upside Down back then. He heard Will.
The demogorgon kept coming back. They’d all seen it with their own eyes. Nancy and Jonathan discovered the Upside Down. Hopper and Joyce poked too hard at Hawkins Lab. It all became one huge mess as they did everything in their power to bring Will back.
But, despite how hard they tried, they never found him.
After a while, Dustin and Lucas began to accept the reality that they would never find out what actually happened to Will. He may have been taken to the Upside Down, or maybe the body in the quarry really was him. The quarry body could’ve been a fake, but maybe he died in the Upside Down anyway. Maybe he didn’t disappear in the Upside Down at all. Maybe he just ran away, somewhere really far, where no one could find him. Mike likes to imagine that maybe Will is doing better there.
They came up with endless theories to explain it–to deal with their grief, but they didn’t know for sure. It was one big open-ended question.
The only thing they could prove was that Will never came home.
When Eleven disappeared as quickly as she arrived in 1983, things were quiet. They were normal for a while, save for a gaping Will-sized hole in their lives and enough grief to paralyze them entirely. But the Upside Down proved to be relentless. Will’s life wasn’t enough for it. So, as it continued to consume Hawkins, Eleven returned, and the gate was closed.
Then the Russians became a problem, and the U.S. government, and now, Vecna. Mike just wants it all to be over.
Mike knows that even after all this time, Joyce really believes that Will is still out there. She has stopped saying it out loud for the past couple of years, though. Either she grew tired of listening to people calling her crazy, or she knew that Jonathan couldn’t take it anymore.
Even though he’s dating his sister, Jonathan and Mike don’t talk very often. At least on Mike’s end, it’s too painful to remember that their lives used to be intertwined differently. Jonathan was Mike’s best friend's cool older brother. He’d show them music, play DnD with them, and buy them the best snacks for their sleepovers. Without Will, though, they became practically strangers.
They had a mutual understanding of their insurmountable grief, but they never talked about Will.
The one time they did, Mike was staring out the window of the passenger seat of a pizza van. It was silent save for Argyle’s snoring in the back, and the darkened desert spanned for an eternity around them. Mike had never seen such a clear night sky in his life. As he stared at the bright stars, he wished he could have been looking at them in different circumstances. He wished they weren’t running from the government. He wished he had never buried a dead body. He wished he never seen a dead body. He wished that his best friend had never gone missing.
It was this night, staring at the stars, that Mike finally, quietly, asked Jonathan if he believed Will could still be out there.
It took Jonathan a long time to respond. But after a while, Mike heard him sigh from beside him. “I hope that wherever he is, it’s better than here.”
Mike hummed in agreement. Then softly, watching the world stretch on, he added, “I hope he’s still painting.”
He risked a glance at Jonathan. Despite the bags under his eyes, his lips quirked upwards in a small smile.
Mike is snapped back to reality as the boy gestures up to the bats resting in the trees.
“The bats will attack anyone they see on sight,” the boy explains. “You’ll have to travel through the treeline to avoid being seen.” He closes his eyes. “Your friends will be here soon.”
When he opens them again, it’s almost as if his irises are sliding back into place. He’s using his powers, Mike realizes.
Panicked, Mike demands, “How do you know that? What are you doing?”
“Look,” the boy says shortly. His eyes narrow at Mike over his bandana. “Maybe if you have another friend… like me… you’ll understand. I can see them. They’re being… directed this way. Just-” the boy meets Mike’s eyes, almost pleading. “You have to trust me.”
Mike swallows roughly. But, he finds that he really means it when he breathes out, “Okay.”
“It should be a straight shot to the shore on the other side,” the boy explains, reaching for his bag. “You'll be able to make it to the gate with no problem.”
“I don’t- I guess I just don’t understand,” Mike blurts. “Why aren’t you coming? You- you can’t stay down here alone.”
The boy blows out a huff of air. The strands of hair falling across his face dance with the exhale. Mike can't see the lower half of his face, but his eyes crinkle at the corners and shine with mischief. For some reason, they don't look brown at all anymore.
“You’d be surprised.”
“But, but, you can help us. If you’re after Henry, just like us, we should work together,” Mike insists. “There's- What if we could team up? Share what we know about him. And- and with you and El, we’d be unstoppable. We can finally kill that bastard, and all this bullshit can be over. Things can finally go back to normal. Let’s- let’s just flip back to the other side and regroup. We’ll make a plan and-”
“I can’t.”
Mike falters and looks to the boy. For someone who is harboring actual superpowers, he looks so small.
“What? Yes, you can. We’ll just-”
“No, Mike. I can’t.”
As the boy’s wide eyes meet Mike’s over the top of his bandana, Mike’s heart begins pounding in his chest. He takes a step backwards. Panic flashes in the boy’s eyes, and Mike can see him recognize his own mistake.
“How- how do you know my name?”
The boy’s eyes dart around. “I- would you believe me if I said it was a lucky guess?”
“No,” Mike breathes.
Suddenly, every fear he had before, about this being a trick of Vecna’s, about his mind being manipulated, leaps to the forefront of his brain. How could he be so stupid? How else would this random stranger know about Vecna? He’s practically a sorcerer, with powers of his own. He saved Mike like he was a damsel in distress. None of this is real. And if it somehow is real, it still has Vecna’s fingerprints all over it.
How could Mike have trusted this stranger so blindly?
Anger rises within Mike, at himself, at Vecna, at every beast in this godforsaken place. He repeats with more force, “How do you know me?”
“I- I didn’t at first,” the boy sounds honest. Mike realizes that he’s shaking in front of him. The boy wraps his arms tightly around himself. “But then, you mentioned Dustin and Lucas and Nancy and–” his voice breaks a little– “and Jonathan. And DnD! I just- you know, you still have your freckles, and- and the same hair, and those stupid big brown eyes…”
The anger has seeped away, and Mike just feels confused. His head hurts trying to wrap his mind around what the boy is saying. He is pulling at his hair, wildly gesturing about, and looks absolutely desperate for Mike to understand.
“...I guess- I just kinda realized, holy shit? You know? After all these years, Mike Wheeler just landed on my doorstep. What are the odds?”
All these years…
“How long have you been down here?” “A very long time.”
“I’m good at hiding.”
And a horrible, impossible, wonderful idea crosses Mike’s mind.
There’s no fucking way.
“I- I can’t lie, I feel like I’ve been losing it more than usual since the gates opened back up, but then, Henry was fleeing from the Creel House, and he was hurt, as if someone, somehow, finally actually struck him. I didn’t even see anyone around, but it gave me this hope. For the first time in a long time, I wanted to fight back. But- but he’s been missing. He’s gone. I can’t see him anywhere. And the military has been a nightmare to avoid–they just want to kill me or kidnap me, I’m still not sure–and then the police chief has been sneaking around every month looking for Henry, with this- this radio that can somehow reach through to the other side,” he pauses to demand, “how do you do that, by the way? Because I’ve run every battery out of juice for years just trying to make contact again…”
Mike feels like passing out.
“...And then you show up here of all people! With Lucas and Dustin, too? And you’re- what? In the middle of this mess? After all this time, you not only know about Henry, but you’re after him too?” he looks absolutely bewildered. “This- it can’t be real. This isn’t real. The voices have been- It’s gotta be Henry because-”
As if in a trance, Mike closes the distance between them and reaches for the fabric covering the other boy’s face. He already knows. He knows. But he needs to see him.
The boy’s words die in his throat as Mike’s hand nears his face. Mike waits, as if asking for permission. When he doesn’t move away, Mike gingerly pinches the top of the bandana fold and slides it down. Mike is holding his breath as he slowly reveals the boy’s nose, a small mole that feels all too familiar, his mouth, his chin, until it hangs freely around his neck. How could Mike not see it before?
It feels like he just got hit by Murray’s semi truck. And then Murray backed over him again. Twice.
All the wind in him escapes, like being punched in the gut. Mike stumbles a few paces back out of mere shock, but he can’t take his eyes off him. Mike would chalk it up to being a sick, twisted hallucination from Vecna as well, if the boy hadn’t shared the exact same fear aloud.
Mike's heart hammers in his throat. It just can’t be possible. It shouldn’t be possible. His voice shakes when he finally speaks. It comes out softer than he’s spoken in years.
“Will?”
Will’s eyes flicker up from the hole they were staring into Mike’s chest. He fiddles with the cuffs of his jacket, wringing his hands together.
“Um,” Will says, like he has to think about it. “Uh- yeah?”
Mike blinks rapidly. Maybe that demo got him, and he really is dead after all.
“Will Byers?”
Will glances around, as if there is another Will Byers in their vicinity. He manages a small smile. “Yeah, it’s- uh. It’s me.”
And well, in Mike’s defense, he never thought he’d see Will smile again. So, he thinks his reaction is perfectly appropriate considering.
Mike rushes forward, and all he can think is holy shit, Will is alive, as he’s throwing his arms around the other boy and tugging him in for a crushing hug. It isn’t until Will is secure, nestled–maybe a bit stiffly–in his arms, that Mike starts crying. He tucks his nose into the crook of Will’s shoulder, inhaling that awful Upside Down musk and a scent that is so entirely Will that Mike can’t believe he forgot what it smelled like. He can’t help but let out a sob at the thought.
Mike thought he was going to die today, and the verdict is still out on whether or not this is just the afterlife, but he’s hardly concerned because he has an armful of Will Byers. Nothing but that matters.
Will is still stiff as a board, frozen beneath him as Mike cries quietly into his shoulder, squeezing him tightly.
“I thought you were dead,” Mike murmurs, muffled by Will’s jacket. He sniffles. “I thought- we- they told us you were dead.”
Mike can feel Will’s posture sag. Slowly, hesitantly, as if Mike could easily be spooked, he feels Will’s arms wrap gently around his midsection. The touch only makes Mike cry harder. All he can think is, this better be real.
“We- we had a funeral,” Mike whispers into his shoulder, sort of in horror, as if that mere fact were disgusting and wrong. It was wrong. Because Will is alive.
“I know,” Will whispers quietly. His voice comes out sort of thick.
Mike pulls back suddenly, but he grips Will’s shoulders tightly. Will looks anywhere but at Mike, hands stuttering awkwardly, as if he’s unsure of where to put them. After a beat, he folds them together in front of himself.
“You know? What do you mean you know?”
Will bites at his lip a little. Mike can’t help but stare at the way it reddens when he releases it.
Will is alive.
“I saw- Henry showed me some things,” Will says hushed. “I- I just never knew what was real and what wasn’t. When I was younger, I just believed it was all real.”
When he was younger…
Will got older… because he’s alive.
And he may have been tormented by Vecna this entire time.
While Mike kept on living, going through puberty, dating his first (and only) girlfriend, and starting high school, Will was stuck here. The guilt crawls up his spine, and Mike shudders at the weight of it. He’s been alive this whole time… and they failed him.
How could they not know? How could they stop looking? How could Mike stop looking?
“How is this possible?” Mike’s eyes dart all across him. “Is this- Are you even real?”
Will looks pained at Mike’s words. Mike meets his eyes and realizes belatedly that they are entirely too close. There’s barely any space between them, and Mike is still clutching at Will’s shoulders. He can’t even bring himself to care because Will is alive.
Mike stares, taking him in. He really and truly looks, because now he has a reason to. He wants to study every inch of Will. He wants to memorize the curve of his nose and the shape of his jaw. He wants to know every part of the boy in front of him. He wants to never, ever forget each intricate detail that his memory and imagination could never do justice to.
And when Mike looks at him, this time with the eyes of a long-lost friend, he sees so much more. To put it plainly, Will looks older. He's grown in as many ways Mike has. He's taller. His jaw is sharper. His shoulders are broader. But he's so thin. His eyes look hollowed out, with deep purple rings beneath them. It's as if shadows dance at each curve of his slight figure. It’s clear he's endured more than Mike could ever imagine.
But his eyes are as kind as they always were.
And when Mike really looks, he realizes that Will’s mesmerizing eyes are hazel. They’re maybe the only thing that hasn’t changed. In the darkness around them, he mistook them for brown, but they are so much more. They swirl with thousands of colors, ever-changing. Mike has never been much of an artist; that was always Will’s area of expertise, but he wishes he could capture the color of his eyes just to look at them again and again.
Kind, Mike thinks to himself again. Will’s eyes show a kindness that the world hasn't returned to him.
Mike distantly feels like he’s hyperventilating. As his mind races with grief, joy, guilt, and thousands of questions, he realizes belatedly that he might not be breathing at all.
Without hesitating, Will reaches and wraps a rough hand around one of Mike’s wrists, pulling it from Will’s shoulder. Mike inhales sharply as Will delicately spreads out his hand, extending each of his fingers. Suddenly, the air feels even thicker, if that could even be possible. Mike swallows roughly, heart pounding from lack of oxygen, but Will seems entirely unaffected.
Will brings Mike’s hand over the center of his chest, slightly to the left. Will holds it there and takes a deep breath. Ever so slightly, Mike can feel, through the fire where their bodies meet, the gentle thump of Will’s heart. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.
“It's okay,” Will murmurs, meeting Mike’s gaze. “I’m real.”
Mike feels entirely overwhelmed because, as much as he’s been trying to wrap his head around the fact that Will is alive, here is the actual proof. He can feel his steady heartbeat in his chest, and he can see the same hazel eyes that he used to know like the back of his hand.
But, at the same time, the touch and feeling ground him. Focusing on the rhythm, Mike matches his breathing to the faint rise and fall he can feel from Will’s chest. After a few moments, Mike’s mind feels like it is back in his body.
“Jennifer Hayes cried at your funeral,” Mike blurts out.
Will’s eyebrows furrow, and he lets out an incredulous laugh. It isn’t much more than a surprised exhale, but it sounds like pure music to Mike’s ears.
“What?” His eyes crinkle at the corners, and Mike wants to kiss the skin there.
And that’s… okay. Jesus fucking Christ. He’s insane. Well, he’s always been insane about Will, but… Mike is insane.
He shakes his head roughly. Mike pulls his hand out from under Will’s and away from his chest. The cold air of the Upside Down feels so much more biting when he does. Will looks completely unaffected by the touch; his beautiful eyes are peering at Mike expectantly, curiously.
Beautiful? A voice in Mike’s head interrupts. What the hell is wrong with you?
“Jesus- sorry,” Mike starts. “I just- we always used to say we couldn’t wait to tell you that when we found you. I guess it sort of stayed top-of-mind when I imagined this.”
“Well,” Will hums in thought. “It’s nice to know she cared.”
Mike babbles on. “How are you here? How have you survived?” Then, he remembers the most confusing thing of all. He balks at the thought. “Wait, wait, wait. How do you have powers? You- it’s like you really became Will the Wise. I-”
Will shifts before him, not meeting his eyes.
“Mike,” Will interrupts him with a hand. “It’s… a lot… to explain. And I have questions for you too,” and Mike nods in earnest, because that makes sense. “But you need to listen to me right now. You are not safe here.”
Mike’s blood runs cold, and the warm little bubble he was in with Will bursts. “You’re not safe here either.”
Will doesn’t respond to that. “We need to get you out of here. The farther you are from Henry, the safer you will be.”
“Okay, yeah, great,” Mike says dismissively, “so the same applies to you.”
He reaches for Will, but Will flinches away.
“I can’t go with you.”
“Why do you keep saying that?” Mike demands petulantly. “Why not?”
And then, Will’s hand flies to his neck again, and terror washes across his face. His head whips around urgently, as if looking for something. The movement makes Mike take a step back. When Will looks at Mike again, he looks panicked.
“I-I,” Will stutters. “I can’t explain it all, but I’m different. It’s- it’s how I survived. But, with the gates, he- he doesn’t let me leave. I can’t leave.”
His words are cryptic, and Mike doesn’t really understand what it entails, but he knows Will means Vecna.
“He- he needs me. I don’t know why,” Will begins to talk faster, more urgently, as if they’re running out of time. He shakes his head. “But, Mike, I think he brought you here because of me. I don’t know what he wants, but I’m not going to let him hurt you. You have to go home.”
“Bullshit,” Mike barks without hesitation. “I’m not leaving without you.”
Will shuts his eyes suddenly, and Mike watches in awe and confusion as a slight trickle of blood comes from one of his nostrils. Out of the corner of his eye, Mike sees a glimmer of light.
Mike whips his head towards it. There is a faint glow through the trees in the distance, coming from a window of a vine-ridden lake cabin near the shore. Slowly, the light dies out, and the window beside it illuminates like a heartbeat. The pattern continues to a porch light and then through the house next door. Mike watches as small glimmers of light seem to approach the shoreline, practically blinding in the shadows of the Upside Down.
A voice shouts in the distance.
“Holy shit!”
Mike’s face splits into a beam as he spots two figures emerging from the treeline a ways down the shore. Dustin and Lucas look ragged and exhausted, but for the most part, unharmed. Mike can’t see any major injuries from where he is. Beside them, the nearest cabin is illuminated with impossible light, as if directing them to the gate.
They’re okay. Mike thinks he could cry in relief. He watches as they holler and grab at each other in celebration for a moment before heading towards the gate.
He whips around back to Will, who peels open his eyes, hazel irises settling back into place.
“You lead them here,” he realizes.
Will nods. Then, his expression darkens, and he takes a step backwards.
“You have to go now.”
Mike scowls. “I’m not leaving you.”
Will pinches his eyes shut in frustration, “Mike. I am trying to protect you.”
“No! No,” Mike begins to raise his voice. “I’m not- I can’t- I won’t leave you here! I just- I just found you. If you can’t leave, then I’m staying.” He crosses his arms, decidedly.
“Mike,” Will lowers his voice. The tone sends a shiver down Mike’s spine. “I don’t want to make you.”
Mike can feel heat prickling behind his eyes. He bawls his fists.
“I can’t lose you again!”
Will’s gaze softens for a moment. “I can’t lose you either,” he whispers. Mike watches as Will’s eyes begin to water as well. “I’m- I’m sorry for this, but I need to know you’re safe. I will see you again.”
Mike doesn’t understand what he means. He tries to reach out to him, but just like all those years ago, Will slips from his grasp. Before Mike can reason any further, Will’s eyes flip to completely white.
“Will-”
A deep growl cuts him off. Behind Will, Mike spots a demodog prowling its way through the darkness of the forest.
“Will, look out!”
But Will is in no danger at all. In fact, the demodog lurks forward, right past Will’s leg, paying him no mind. Mike swallows roughly, the same fear from earlier rushing back into his nervous system. If the demodog had eyes, they’d be locked on Mike.
He chances a glance away from the beast, and his eyes dart back to Will. His eyes are still milky white, and Mike sees him unfold his palms at his sides, facing out to the demodog.
Mike feels a mixture of fear and anger as he realizes that Will’s doing this.
The demodog snarls, and Mike realizes that it is entirely unlikely that Will will save his ass for a second time, especially when he’s the one attacking Mike. A mix of grief and betrayal swirls within him, and he can’t help as his tears begin to fall, hot and burning.
The demodog continues towards Mike, but still hasn’t lunged. Steadying his breath as best he can, Mike backs away slowly, trying to make no sudden movements.
It makes no goddamn sense. Will just said he wanted him safe. He wanted him-
Mike glances behind him as he backs away from the monster. Then, to test his theory, he tries to step to the side, and the demo opens its mouth, snarling, jumping forward. It doesn’t make contact, but Mike stumbles away. The demo pushes him back in the direction of the gate down the shoreline.
It all clicks. Will is sending him home.
Mike lets out a furious sob and looks back to Will, who feels miles further away now. As the demo and Mike move slowly toward the gate, Will backs into the shadows of the woods. Mike can spot faint tear tracks on his face.
It’s not fair. And then everything within Mike erupts.
“Will!” he screams. “Will!”
He tries to move past the demodog, but it snarls again and snaps its mouth open and closed near his arm. Narrowly missing losing a limb, Mike flinches back, stumbling. He doesn’t know how close he is to the gate, but it doesn’t matter.
He can’t lose Will again.
His eyes blur, and he can’t help but let out another scream. All he can feel is his rage and desperation to reach Will. It’s not fair. This can’t be happening again.
Mike is barely aware of himself, and before he knows it, he’s stumbling and falling again. He lets out a wail as he sees Will disappear in the distance. Mike’s tears, the fog, and the darkness around him swallow any image of him.
“Mike?!” He can faintly hear a voice shouting behind him. “Mike!”
Mike is on the ground, and he’s sobbing, and he should be dead by now, but the demodog hasn’t lunged yet. It settles on its haunches a few yards ahead of Mike.
“Mike! Mike!”
There are two voices now, shouting his name. They’re closer than before.
The demodog doesn’t move from where it sits. It’s as if it’s taunting him. Mike knows it’ll only hurt him if he tries to move past it. It won’t let him follow Will, so Mike screams at it instead. He rips his beanie off his head, the only thing he can part with, and throws it as hard as he can at the demo.
It hits the demo right on its closed mouth, but it doesn’t move. It doesn’t react. It makes Mike sob harder.
Before he knows it, Lucas and Dustin are swarming his vision.
“Are- are you hurt?” Lucas shouts in his ear, patting his body, searching desperately for any sign of injury.
“The demo- the demo!”’ Dustin yells, “We gotta- Lucas, we gotta get him to the gate!”
Mike feels them grab him by both his arms and shoulders and haul him upwards to his feet. He wants to steady himself, but he’s lost all his energy. He sniffles and gasps uselessly, staring across the lake to where he last saw Will. It gets farther and farther away as Dustin and Lucas drag him with all their might towards the gate.
“Mike, we’re nearly there, okay?” Lucas assures him again. “Just- Just hold on.”
Mike doesn’t really want to hold on, but they have an iron grip on him. Softer, he cries, “I can’t leave him.”
Dustin snaps incredulously, “The demo?”
Mike shakes his head. Dustin isn’t getting it.
“No, Will.”
“What?”
Suddenly, Mike’s back slams to the ground as they set him down. He doesn’t know if either of them even heard him.
“I’ll get his shoulders, grab his legs!” Lucas commands.
Mike feebly tries to push them away, but he’s too weak.
Then, all he sees is a faint red glow and fleshly particles hanging around him. Dustin and Lucas lug him through the gate, heaving with effort. Mike squeezes his eyes shut.
No. No.
Then, the three of them are tumbling to the ground, and Mike can feel soft, pillowy sand beneath him. He can hear water crashing softly near him, lapping at a shoreline.
He peels his eyes open, and he sees… stars. The sky in Hawkins is clear as ever.
No.
Mike jolts up until he’s sitting. Dustin and Lucas are groaning from beside him, gathering themselves on the sand.
“No!” Mike shouts angrily, fisting his hands in the sand, “We left him! We left him again!”
Dustin pushes himself up on his knees. Confused, he snaps, “Mike, what the hell?”
Lucas’s eyebrows shoot up as he holds two hands out to Mike, as if trying to steady a spooked horse.
“Mike,” he says as calmly as he can, “You need to breathe.”
Mike’s eyes dart between them and the gate that is disappearing before his eyes. He sucks in a breath and lets it out. He tries again. His breathing steadies ever so slightly with the conscious effort, but Mike is still shaking.
“Good,” Lucas coaxes. “Now, talk to us.”
“What happened?” Dustin demands harshly. “Who the hell did we leave?”
Mike thinks of Will’s kind eyes and his soft hair moving in the wind. He thinks of his small smile, the trace of his nose, the edge of his jaw. He thinks of Will’s hands steadying him in the woods before he fell. He can still feel the ghost of Will’s hand planted on top of his, resting above his heart.
Mike’s vision begins to swim again. He sniffs sharply, and his voice comes out quiet and hoarse from all his screaming.
“Will,” Mike whispers to the wind. “We left… I left Will.”