Chapter Text
Will & Mike
It's Thursday, the room is mildly decorated in Christmas fashion, the crowning jewel being a little Christmas tree (a courtesy of Jonathan) on the cupboard in the right corner of the room and red, green and yellow warm christmas lights hung above the entrance and Will is having his first drink that's not getting fed to him through a tube but a rather ugly, chipped hospital mug. Well, that is, if you don't count a straw.
He's been having it for almost an hour, and it's not a particularly tasty one, thanks to his senses still being a little messed up, but who is he to complain?
For all its worth, he could've been served another cap of disgusting medicine, and it still wouldn't have spoiled his mood.
He's alive.
The feeding process is still a little embarrassing though. Especially with an audience. At least he's semi-sitting today.
"One more sip."
"Mom, I know it's pathetic, but I'm going as fast as I can," he says, smiling when Joyce pokes his cheek with the straw.
"Honey, it's not pathetic!" Joyce puts the little mug away, "I'm sorry, I'm just so glad, you have no idea."
Joyce, insisting on feeding her baby herself to every nurse who dared to offer their service, is even more chipper than usual. She almost looks rested in all her restlessness.
It doesn't matter Will can't really lift his head or legs yet. It doesn't matter he gets sleepy after three-hour-long visits and naps for an average of eleven hours as a result.
He's recovering.
He's alive.
For a moment, a little while in the Upside Down, he was sure he wouldn't be, when the mission ended. Actually, he conditioned himself to privately accept that as a fact for the past year and a half. That he simply wouldn't survive this. In a, very probable, case.
Then he got possessed again, and despite his fighting back, everything went black. Here and there in his dream realm, he thought he was somewhere else already.
But then he started waking up.
His consciousness lasted seconds at first, his body telling him hey, I'm still here.
Then minutes, letting him get familiar with his hospital room.
Then, somehow, he managed to wake up during Joyce and Jonathan's visit. He's pretty sure they didn't really see him through the tears.
The next time he caught them, he tried asking, but they seemed to have a list of things he needed to know kindly prepared. "Everyone, even goddamn Murray!"
He started believing his immense luck then.
Another time he got them, he started wondering whether he gets other visitors, too, but was a little ashamed to ask.
And then, next time, he woke up to a tingling sensation in his left arm that soon turned into an almost unpleasant pressure.
He opened his eyes slightly.
He needn't focus his eyes to know whose curls were blocking the sunlight seeping from behind the curtains.
He felt two hands shakily squeeze his own.
"Will..?"
With all his might and yet still almost unnoticably, he squeezed back with a small smile.
It's still Thursday, and Mike is reading out loud, bent over a letter from the whole Party who wanted to ensure their victorious greetings get passed as soon as possible.
"...and therefore, any self-sacrificing behaviour from thee is strictly prohibited with immediate effect, you motherfu-" Mike's head sprang up with widened eyes, just as Joyce turned to shoot him an offended look, pulling the straw from Will's mouth, right as he spat a few drops from a stifled laugh.
"Um- sorry- It's- It's an inside joke, you see, it's a reference to Saturn Ring Destroyer volume five-"
Joyce cut him off with a sigh, "I mean, who am I to spoil your fun, just... keep it for later, I'll be on my way in a sec." She turns again to put the glass down and caress Will's forehead, "They're right, though, no sacrificing of my baby anymore, ever."
"I'm literally almost seventeen mom..."
"Exactly my point. And you'll be my baby even at fifty." Joyce pats his cheek affectionately as she stands up. She turns to the other boy, "Mike, there's still coffee in the thermos, so drink up."
"Thanks, Mrs Byers."
"I'm off then. Make sure he drinks the rest."
"Will do." Mike sends an evil grin towards Will, who rolls his eyes in response.
She kisses both boys goodbye for the day. As much as she wants to stay with her son all day and every day from now on, it's good for her to try and enjoy a dinner with Hop, try to break free from her chronically terrified mom image and try on an ordinary adult building a life from scratch again.
Besides, her son craves different company right now anyway.
When her footsteps get lost in the hospital ambience, Mike looks back at Will.
"Yeah, so, that's basically it," he lifts the letter, "it's just signed by literally everyone, and their mom and underneath's a drawing of- uh."
He takes the chair he's sitting on and pulls himself towards Will, holding the letter by a corner in his teeth before stuffing it in front of Will's face.
"I think it's supposed to be you as a sorcerer? Ugh, I bet Dustin and Steve drew that-"
Will squints at the ambitious yet hardly recognisable stickman abomination "Um- yeah. Yeah, I think I see-"
"The wand?"
"Yeah!"
"Yeah."
A beat passes. Then two beats.
Mike puts the letter away, nods and clears his throat. Will bites into his cheek. Well, that got real awkward real fast for some reason.
Will notices Mike's fidgeting with a string of leather on his wrist. He doesn't put his chair back.
"I don't remember that one," Will remarks.
"Mm? Oh-" Mike shoots his arm up, "yeah, your- um, Jonathan gave it to me. He made it during his visits."
Will blinks, now fully realising the consequences of his time out.
"Jonathan?"
"Yeah, he uh- y'know how everyone picked up a different hobby, one crazier than the other, I swear it's just an inside joke by now, everyone's got something, well- this is his."
"Can I see?" Will asks, eyes transfixed on the bracelet.
"Sure," Mike leans even closer, gently putting his arm just above Will's chest for a closer look.
"That's... so nice," Will breathes out with awe as he notices little braids, a wooden bead here and there.
"El said it's not my style, but it's basically a token of truce, so how could I ignore that," Mike smirks and rests his wrist on Will's blanket, the hand a little shaky from holding itself up.
Will smiles, "Well, I think it fits you."
"Yeah, yeah, she said you'll think that," Mike theatrically rolls his eyes, gesturing vaguely with the hand still casually resting on Will's chest.
"I see I didn't need to bother waking up then," Will breathes out a genuine laugh, but notices the atmosphere stilling. He looks down to see Mike's bracelet hand clutching his duvet.
He looks directly at him, discovering hurt in his silently startled eyes.
"N- Mike, I'm joking," he rushes, "that came out wrong-"
"I know Will, I- sorry, I'm-" he averts his eyes, suddenly interested in Joyce's thermal bottle.
"No, I'm sorry, that was- dumb of me. I- um." Will takes a few seconds to organise his thoughts, "Mom told me you went to see me here... every day basically. And that they were... all worried for you," Mike shoots him a mildly offended side look, "no, y'know, 'cuz first your mom and dad and then me-"
Mike looks down, fiddling with the bracelet again.
Will waits for him to say something before realising the weight of his joke really was a little overboard.
He wanted to say this for a long time anyway.
"I'm really sorry. That you had to put up- that you had to go through that." No more self-deprecating language, though old habits die hard.
Mike scoffs weakly, "Will, it's fine-"
"No, it's really not. I, uh- let me just..." he starts rustling with his left hand, creeping up the covers clumsily, slowly, before finding Mike's wrist on the duvet, gently grasping it.
"Thank you. For caring."
Mike just looks at him for a few seconds before looking away and down again, biting his lower lip.
"And for protecting me back there-"
"I didn't do shit." Mike hisses, not looking up.
"Not what literally everyone told me-"
"Nobody else was there, Will." he growls, making Will lose his words, "You were writhing on the fucking ground with Vecna holding onto you and as per usual I had NO idea what the HELL am I supposed to do to help, so I just stood there, I stood there like an idiot and then you-" his voice cracks into almost an whisper and he leans on the fingers of his right hand, failing to look casual, "...and then you stopped moving and- you weren't- you had no pulse and I just..." he puts his head in his hands. "I thought- you..."
A silence fills the room. The chain of Christmas lights cheerfully blinking at them.
Will flicks his eyes over Mike, searching for comforting words. His mouth hangs slightly open. That's a bit of information *everyone* seemed to forget to mention to him.
Or had Mike forgotten to mention it to everyone?
"I- I didn't know that-"
Mike silently scoffs at that, with no humour seeping through. It's strange, this convey of emotions. Distress and anger and frustration as if Mike had to hold it all in for a little too long.
Will offers, "I just- I remember sort of... passing out? I've had some... weird dreams, but didn't think they meant something. But maybe I was... out of it for a bit, I don't- Mike?!" he startles when he hears his best friend hitch a little, a held-in sob escaping him.
"I'm-" he clears his throat quickly, not helping at all the hoarseness of his voice, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- It's just-" he catches his breath, "Dustin and Steve were the first ones to find us and they checked you, too, and suddenly you had the pulse back and you were breathing just fine, you just seemed knocked out and- and they all looked at me like I was nuts, I wanted to get away from there as fast as possible instead of checking if everything's done, but they weren't listening to me, and I was so scared you might like- fall out of it again, and- and..." his voice cracks again.
"I thought... for a minute I was sure that I- that we- lost you." Mike is whispering then, sounding defeated. As if the confession tired him out.
Will doesn't know what to say. He moves his palm over Mike's still curled hand. He squeezes a little again. Mike catches his thumb with his own
"You didn't. I'm okay."
"Mm."
They sit in silence for a few minutes before Mike dares to lift his face up, flushed with swallowed tears, forced ennui and badly hidden embarrassment.
Will knows it's teenage courtesy to look at the Christmas tree and pretend Mike definitely isn't crying, but he was never too great at social conformity. Instead, he looks at their hands, occasionally flicking up to his face, offering a sad half-smile.
"I'm sorry for lashing out." Mike mumbles, "I've been... weirdly angry and acting like a douche these past few weeks."
"You're not-"
"No, I am. I was. To everyone, really, I-" he cringes at the memory, "I may have- uh. Lashed out at your mom."
"Y-"
"A bit."
"What?!"
"Yeah, nobody thought I had it in me, but everyone found out, don't even get me started."
Will barks out a disbelieving laugh. Mike grins a little too widely, turning the smile into an embarrassed groan a little too late. He tries leaning back in his chair, realising they're still semi-holding hands.
To Will's pleasant surprise, he smoothly leans over the cupboard next to the upper part of the bed instead, bringing a palm to his face with a huff, as if he's getting tired, fingers curling more properly around Will's hand. Will blushes a little, but doesn't say anything.
He watches the Christmas tree for a bit before turning his head to the left to face him better.
"I'm glad you were there with me."
Mike stares, stopping his not-so-casual eye-rubbing.
"I don't know what happened after, but you did help me. Y'know, by being there, with me." Will smiles softly, "I'm glad it was you."
Mike's eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up. "I-" he opens and closes his mouth. His chin quivers ever so slightlly.
He throws his head to the ceiling suddenly, due to, as Will quickly realises, his eyes welling up again.
"Damn it- Will! I swear that was on purpose-"
Will laughs as Mike rambles something about his reputation.
They don't let go for the rest of the evening.
They never would, again.