Chapter Text
The full scene sharpened into focus a lot quicker than Will would've liked. He felt the sting of his nails as they curled and dug into his palm. Was it a trick of the light? Was he just seeing things? His mother was acting totally normal and here he was freaking out.
Will stared at the anomaly that was Joyce's irises. He could compare his astonishment to getting ambushed in the middle of a D&D adventure(Though he had come up with the story all by himself). But this time– it wasn't his imagination. It wasn't a dream. The white spheres were that of real life.
I've been waiting for you, honey.
“What do you mean?” Will questioned. He told his mom he was going to bed, why would she be expecting him now? Joyce set the sewing kit aside and stood up, smoothing down her blouse. She took a foot forward and Will went a step back. Her face remained soft and understanding.
“You’re… eyes.” Will pointed out, aiming a finger at his own to emphasize. Joyce looks down for a moment, as if shy.
“Oh, that.” She smiled. “I’m okay. It doesn't hurt at all.”
“But– What happened? You didn't have…that before.”
Joyce took cautious steps forward and kneeled in front of him, so Will had to look down at her. For once, he's the tallest person in the room. “I think you're confusing me with someone else. I’m your other mother.” She clarified.
“Other mother?”
“The better one. I’m so happy you're finally home.” Joyce brings Will into a warm, tight hug, her palm running down the back of his head in the way he always enjoyed. He accepted the hug and nuzzled into her hair, smelling her conditioner scented like flower petals and fresh rain. Everything about her is just like his mom, down to the faint lines of ageing and decades worth of emotions expressed. And he can't deny himself the connection he's been missing the past few weeks. He almost forgot how much he longed for her affectionate touch. With her smooth soothing fingers at his scalp and the nape of his neck, he doesn't consider leaving as an option. His mother then proceeds to rock him side to side as fast as possible. “I. Love. You. So. So. Much!” She said with every motion. Will giggled as she released him, returning to her feet. “What was that?” He snickered, nose crinkling like a bunny.
“We’ve waited a very long time for you.” She explained fondly.
Will quirked an eyebrow. “We?”
As if on cue, a set of footsteps sounded down the upstairs steps. Will turns around as the shoes padding reach linoleum in the foyer. He cranes his neck to meet the same set of cloudy irises, this time, on his brother. A camera hangs from the strap around his neck, a beaming smile Will has seldom seen on his face.
“Hey, buddy.” Jonathan said gently. And oh, Will hasn't heard the older teen call him that specific nickname in what felt like forever. It was the missing puzzle piece finally being slotted into place to see the picture as a whole. It was late nights of sketching while Jonathan did school work after his work shifts. It was protection on the days when Lonnie got too physical. It was everything safe and familiar and Will's heart was about to burst out of his chest.
“Jon?” Will whispered, eyes watery and vision becoming slightly blurry.
Jonathan sank to one knee, holding his arms out.
Will didn't waste another second. He barrelled into his brother, wrapping his arms around him as if he might push him away. He closed his eyes, letting darkness take over his vision as he cherished the moment. The camera dug into his stomach slightly, but Will couldn't bring himself to think about it too long before the thought–and sting– slipped away.
It didn't matter what the other Jonathan was up to in the world Will was originally from. Whatever it was, he wasn't wondering where Will was right now. He simply doesn't care. What mattered was the Jonathan that wanted to hold him close, the one pulling him tight to his chest. And Will had no fight in him to consider what it could mean. Even if this whole thing was some hyper-realistic dream, the happiness Will was feeling was a hundred percent real.
“I missed you.” Jon said into his hair, placing a kiss on Will's temple.
“I missed you.” Will emphasized, pulling back just enough to face his brother. “Can we–” Will is cut off by what he's pretty sure is the sound of a dog barking. Once. Twice. Double bark. Coming from upstairs. Will whipped around to his mother who wore a barely concealed face of elation.
“You might wanna check upstairs.” Joyce shrugged, pursing her lips like it's nothing at all. And Oh my God did we get a dog?
Will only makes it up two steps before a white-furred puppy bounced his way down the stairs and ran a lap around the coffee table. Panting and paws loud, despite the carpet. Will followed the dog as it yaps again, lifting onto its back legs to place its front ones on Will's thighs, jumping in exhilaration. “Aw!” Will said as he aggressively patted the dog's neck and ears with both hands. The puppy whimpered in eagerness, fluffy tail whipping side to side. Will is smiling so much that he almost missed the animals eyes. The same strange milky white irises that the two older family members also wear. If he didn't know any better, he might've thought the dog was blind. But having already been introduced to the concept, Will let it fall to the back of his mind.
Heavier footsteps clacked into the room as Hopper stepped in, a leisure grin on his lips. “Hey, kid.” He greeted as he laid an arm across Joyce's shoulder.
“Is this our dog?” Will said in a daze. He was so impossibly happy, his cheeks hurt from using the muscles so much.
The dog barked as a response, spinning in a circle as Will continued patting the scruffy fur. Will laughed.
“It's your dog, sweetie.” His mother chuckled, leaning into Hopper's side. Will gasped in shock, eyes widening. The dog licked at his fingers.
“Well? Does he have a name yet?” Hopper pressed.
Will watched the puppy closely. A he.
“Chester?” Will supplied, looking at Joyce and her boyfriend for validation.
“Chester it is!” She affirmed.
The dog had another burst of energy, as if he knew it was a special occasion, and ran around the three of them. Will seemed to be in a perpetual state of shock. The scene was absolutely unimaginable. He had a dog. A dog that was his. And his whole family was here to celebrate with him. It was impossible. It was the best day of Will's life. He was visibly vibrating from such profound feelings. He couldn't hold back anymore. Will ran into Hopper, giving him a short but expressive hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Will cried happily, pulling back to look at his mother when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“That's not all, honey.” She said as she led them into the dining room next to the kitchen and turned the light on.
What was a completely empty table however many minutes ago, was now holding a round one tier chocolate frosted cake in the middle. Reece's pieces decorated the top. The frosting had indent lines running through it, he could tell it had been done by an imperfect hand. Of course Joyce was never much of a baker, but it made everything she baked that much more special. Laughing when the flour somehow escaped out of the bowl every single time. Checking the recipe a hundred times before Will or Jonathan poured in ingredients. Measuring the vanilla with the size of their hearts. It was a significant memory of what home felt like. One that Lonnie wasn't able to ruin.
Yellow and blue streamers hung from the ceiling from small pieces of tape. It was all homemade and Will appreciated it right down to his soul.
“What's the cake for?” Will said, giving Joyce a look when she patted the chair in front of the cake, inviting him.
He sat down, mouth watering as the sugary cocoa and peanut butter swallowed his senses. Chester hopped up onto his lap, giving the food a sniff before settling patiently onto his belly. Will patted him absentmindedly.
“It's for you.” Joyce stated, standing with Hopper and Jonathan on the other side of the table. Their lips all curved into a proud smile, their eyes the similar unnatural white. “Welcome home, Will.” She said, reaching a hand out to flick the switch off.
Three lit candles appeared immediately in the center of the cake, giving off a yellow glow that brought sharp shadow along everyone's faces. It was a little off-putting with their white eyes collectively pointed at Will. The candlelight danced and shifted with every breath Will let out through his nose.
“Go ahead, honey.” Joyce encouraged. “Make a wish.”
Will accepted the peculiar feeling he got when he looked at the striped wax. His last birthday was months ago, it was a bit of a strange situation to be sitting in front of a cake in the dark again.
Never had Will in any of his wildest dreams thought something like this could happen to him. It was difficult for him to wrap his head around what was going on at all. It's like someone found a filing cabinet in the back of his mind and threw all the papers out. Everything he's ever wanted has been brought to him today. Every thought had come to life in the form of an alternate human being that didn't leave Will behind. In this world, he was the center of the universe, what kept their days busy and filled with adventure.
Joyce didn't have adult responsibilities to take care of.
Jonathan took care of him and treated him like his brother again.
Hopper went out of his way to see Will happy.
They all did.
And if there was one thing Will could wish for.
Will closed his eyes.
He'd wish that every day was like this.
Will blew out the candles in one breath. Plunging the dining room into darkness.
Before Joyce flipped the switch on, Will could've sworn he still saw their cloudy irises in the pitch black.
The bright light flashed on again, Will's eyes taking a moment to adjust, noticing the candles are no longer in the cake, no indentation where they were placed just a second ago.
“Alright! Let's eat cake, shall we?” Joyce cheered, disappearing behind Will and returning with plates and forks and a singular bread knife. She sliced into the cake with quick precision, ensuring a Reece's Pieces is on top of the giant slice. Plopping it onto a plate and sliding it over in front of Will. Chester sniffed the cake and decided against attempting to eat it.
Jonathan and Hopper glide into chairs around the table and Joyce hands them pieces of cake. Will took his fork stabbed into the corner of the peanut butter candy, breaking off a chunk. He rounded up some chocolate cake and frosting onto his fork and finished it off by scooping the sugary bite onto the chocolate pile. Opening his mouth wide, the three different flavors of cocoa hit him at once, all varying levels of sweetness, but not lacking in the category at all. The grains of sugar snuck between his teeth and stuck. It was an overwhelming, concentrated, saccharine bite of everything he's ever wanted and loved.
And yet, it might've been a bit too sweet for his taste.
The thick syrupy memory of chocolate lingered on his tongue even after he swallowed. It was delectable.
“This is amazing!” Will praised. Still smiling ear to ear. A yawn escaped him before he could think about it.
His mother tilted her head an inch. “You're not tired, are you? We have much more to do tonight!”
“Yeah,” Jonathan added. “You and I should go outside for photos, we can make beautiful things together.”
And to be honest, now that Will took a moment to breathe, he recognized just how drained he actually felt. And when he thought about a cozy mattress with a soft, warm blanket to cover up with, he knew the fight was already over when he yawned a second time. “I’m sorry, but I think I'm ready to go to bed. I'm so tired.” Will said, eyelids blinking slowly.
Joyce gave a short nod and rose from her chair. “Okay, let's call it a night.”
Will nudged Chester off his lap and stood, his brother and Hopper doing the same. His mother led the way to the basement as they rounded the corner. He gave a look back to the table, now spotting the three perfectly cut cake slices on individual plates. Forks clean.
As Will and Joyce walked down the stairs, he heard two more sets of footsteps, and of course, Chester's paws tapping on the wood.
The basement held none of the previous storage boxes from earlier that night. The couch and comfy chair still sat in the one corner, Will's possessions lining the shelves. But to the right, Will's very own bed is laid in the corner. Open and inviting. And Will wasn't gonna waste another second. He hopped up onto the mattress on his knees and flopped onto his back under the comforter, sighing in deep content. Chester pounced onto the blanket and settled right next to Will. His eyelids protested staying open any longer as his mother carded her fingers on his scalp.
“Goodnight Hop, and Jon…” Will slurred. “‘night mom.”
His head sunk further into the pillow as his consciousness floated up, up, and away from his body.
“Goodnight, William.”
∆∆∆
The first thing Will remembers when his eyes open is that he fell asleep on a bed. Which was pretty disorienting when he came face to face with the unique couch cushion pattern.
His own pillow was beginning to sink in between the arm rest. He rolls over with a groggy sigh. The blanket that should've been covering him up has fallen onto the floor, all bunched up. Will sits up, giving a look towards the small window bringing in morning sunlight. The place where his bed was last night was replaced with boxes of miscellaneous items. A pang of disappointment hits Will in the heart.
Was it all just a dream? It felt so real. Will had always been told he had a huge imagination, but he was absolutely able to distinguish his wild adventures from everyday life. And that's the thing– What he dreamt about wasn't even fantastical unlike the other magical worlds that exist in his mind. Will had his mothers attention, his brother's affection, and a man's best friend. It was depressing to be ripped from a scene so fulfilling, Will’s chest felt hollow. His hands squeezed at the fabric of his sweatpants. He swears he can feel a lingering sweet taste of sugar on his tongue. What if he's wrong?
Will leaned forward and picked up his fallen blanket.
A stuffed tiger lay underneath it.
“Yoda!” Will called, snatching him up and setting him on his lap. “Did you see what happened last night, too?”
It would be Chester sitting with him if he was in the other world.
Just then, Will remembered the opening in the wall he crawled through. He leaped to his feet, placing Yoda on the coffee table. He swung around so quickly that his foot caught on the table leg, bumping it forward before Will lost his balance on one foot and crumpled to the floor, arms luckily catching him. “Ow.” He mumbled absentmindedly, even though no part of his body was in any pain at all. He pushed himself to his knees and viewed the totally boring scar in the plaster. No sign of the clear leaky substance or that the wall had split open.
A tidal wave of doubt was ready to crush Will underneath the freezing water, and Will couldn't think about it any longer.
He jumped to his feet, willing all thoughts about the portal and other mother away.
Will used the bathroom and went upstairs to see who was awake.
As soon as the door opened, notes of coffee, cinnamon, and egg wafted into Will's nose. His stomach gave off a weak noise, alerting him that whatever was for breakfast was going to be, in fact, delicious.
In the kitchen, Karen stood at the stovetop with a spatula in hand. Hair up and apron tied. Carefully observing what Will can only guess as french toast. The sizzling of the soaked bread on the pan made his mouth water. The island counter is decorated with containers of various berries and a bottle of maple syrup. With a glance to the dining room, Will sees Ted sitting at the end of the table, plate empty and taking a sip of his coffee while he reads the morning paper with a look Will can only describe as face drooping. Joyce and Jonathan sat next to each other, facing the kitchen this time as they ate.
Hoppers nowhere in sight. He already had a job as police chief, having lived in Hawkins his whole life. Maybe he was out saving lives.
Mike sat alone on the opposite side, drinking a small glass of orange juice.
And then the thought hit him.
Where were the Wheelers last night?
The question only fed his growing uncertainty about the probability of yesterday night's events actually transpiring.
“Morning, Mrs. Wheeler.” Will greeted.
Karen just about jumped out of her skin, regaining her composure with ease. “Will! Good morning.” She said, laughing it off. “You’re in luck, this one's for you.” She gestured to the toast, scooping it up with the spatula and placing it on a shiny white plate, then transferred it over to the island. “And there you go.”
“Did I miss breakfast?” Will asked timidly, scratching an itch at his scalp.
“No, but between you and me,” Karen leaned in, glancing around like someone might overhear. “Ted gets out of bed early to have enough time to read the paper, which means I have to wake up even earlier. Once he leaves… breakfast can go on for however long I want it to.”
Will looked at the ingredients neatly placed on the counter. “Will we have French toast for lunch, too?”
Karen chuckled, running a hand down her apron. With the sunshine beams flowing through the window, her face glows as she smiles.
She's so pretty.
“It's not good for my diet,” she joked. “And certainly not good for you boys to grow strong.”
Karen turned the stove heat off and set the frying pan on the burner further away to cool down. Will leaned onto the counter surveying the spread of different berries. “It would taste really good though…” He added.
Karen stood next to him. “Oh yeah, it would.” She affirmed, plopping a strawberry slice into her mouth. Will watched her leisurely snacking and remembered what Joyce told him yesterday about her. She didn't look like a clean freak. Her hair and makeup were presented perfectly, but there were drops of egg white and loose flour atop the counter.
She wasn't strict in the way Lonnie was with his mom. Karen was kind and ate breakfast with her old classmates son. She was put together and focused when providing for her family and took on the role of cleaning and caring for her child in exchange for Ted paying the bills.
She just existed.
Will pours a tsunami of syrup onto his toast, effectively drowning any survivors.
“It's very nice having you here.” Karen said suddenly. “Sometimes, it gets too quiet in the house, and I wonder– well– you guys are here now, it doesn't matter.” She took a second to change the topic of discussion. “If you need anything at all downstairs, just come to me and I can help you with whatever it is. I might head to the store later to pick up flowers so if you're looking around for me I'll be in the front garden.”
“Okay.” Will nodded, eyes lighting up as he realizes he does need something from her.
Information.
“Um, Mrs. Wheeler–”
“Just call me Karen.” She waved it off.
“Okay.” Will isn't sure how to casually bring up that he may have entered a portal in the drywall, so he doesn't. “Do you know about the crack in the wall behind the couch?” He asked hesitantly.
Karen's eyebrows raised in surprise and her mouth opened in an ‘o’ shape. “Oh my goodness! We were planning on covering it up forever ago and it completely slipped my mind. We'll get it fixed soon.”
Will shook his hands, assuring her it's not a big deal before she worked herself into a frenzy over a dented wall. And he mentally prepared himself for his upcoming question.
“What made the wall break?”
Karen breathed in deep and sighs it out, like just thinking about the story is reliving it. “An earthquake. Four years ago, I think. It was bad enough that it had furniture moving across the floor. It was just me at home and afterwards I began putting everything back into place, when I noticed the crack in the wall. I didn't want to deal with it at the time so I hid it behind the couch. And about a week after the earthquake, me, Ted and Mike started getting terrible migraines. Sue– my girlfriend – tried to convince me it was stress but I swear–”
“Karen! I'm heading out.” Ted's voice called out, somehow lazy and loud at the same time.
She perked up, wearing a fond smile as she walked up to him, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him twice.
On the lips.
“Ugh! Mom.” Mike whined. “Do that anywhere else.”
Karen gave her son a look and stepped away as Ted gathered his briefcase and coat and exited the house. “Bye.”
“Gross.” Mike muttered.
Now that the intimidating head of the table was gone, Will could finally sit in the dining room. He approached the table, plate in hand, and chose the chair next to Mike.
Joyce and Jonathan didn't spare him a glance.
“How'd you sleep?” Mike whispered straight into his ear, making him jump slightly in his chair.
I don't remember falling asleep on the couch.
“Good.” Will said quietly. “I haven't found any ghosts or goblins yet, but I haven't checked under the bed.” Will joked.
Mike looked like he wanted to laugh, but it caught halfway up his throat. He stared at the table in deep thought, contemplating something. “Are you sure it was okay down there?”
Will felt hot in his short sleeve shirt. Maybe it was the lingering heat from the stove making its way through the house, or Mike's reluctance to believe that there's nothing wrong with the basement. Will nodded. “Yeah.”
And to some extent– it was the truth. There truly was no mysterious force meddling with Will's perception of safety. Putting his possibly real, possibly fake, experience aside.
Will played with his French toast, inching a piece of it across the river of syrup like a sail boat drifting in the seven seas. “Mom?”
Joyce continued sipping her tan colored coffee.
“Mom?” He repeated.
Still no movement to prove she heard him.
“Mom.” Will said, considerably loud in the dining room. Any higher and it would be yelling, and Will never yelled.
Will shared a confusing look with Mike, both of them on the same page about the situation. And to make matters even better, Jonathan is keeping to himself the whole time, eating in silence. Uncaring of Will attempting to retrieve his mom's attention.
“Miss Byers!” Mike shouted to the woman sitting less than 4 feet away.
Joyce flinched and her eyes flashed to Mike in concern immediately, but Karen's voice rang out before she could say a word.
“Mike! What are you doing? No yelling inside the house, and no yelling at Joyce.” She instructed, taking a seat at the table with a container of blueberries, looking thoroughly bewildered.
“Karen, it's no problem.” She assured, turning her neck to Mike. “What did you need, hon’?”
“Will was trying to talk to you.” Mike explained, seemingly unfazed by his mom's small scolding.
Joyce's eyes shifted to Will, lighting up. “Morning honey! How did you sleep last night?”
For a short moment, Will can only stare at his mom in a state of whiplash. What the heck. “Fine. Um– when can you and Hopper put my bed downstairs?” And now that the question is out, he feels the blood rushing to his cheeks in embarrassment. He made such a big deal out of nothing. Joyce is weary from the endless unpacking yesterday and all he wants to do is work her to the bone.
“Hm. It'll probably be in the afternoon once Hop gets out of work.” She supplied.
“Okay.” Will said awkwardly.
Well, that went great.
Jonathan finished his breakfast without a word, the slight scrape of his chair against the hard floor making Will wince. Karen followed him up, taking his empty plate and cup from his hands with a let me. The sound of the sink faucet runs in the background like white noise as Will resumed eating.
Mrs. Wheeler is undeniably one of the best cooks in the entire world. The bread is soft without it being soggy, toasted to perfection. Cinnamon and Maple work in glorious tandem, sweetening the dish so it tastes like an early autumn day. Will was used to cheap school lunches and even cheaper family dinners. It was out of schedule to have casual heaven for breakfast.
“Y’know what we should've had with the French toast?” Mike asked randomly.
Will kept his eyes stuck to his fork. “What.”
“Scrambled eggs.”
And that's when Will finally decided to look at Mike. His hair as black as crow feathers and his dusted freckles.
There's no way he could possibly know.
Will must have a funny look on his face because the corner of Mike's lip starts to twitch upward.
“Why?” Will asked.
“Because eggs taste way better in maple syrup. Duh.”
Will's eyes widened. “You eat them with syrup, too?” The question flies out of his mouth so fast Will’s not even sure if he knows what he said.
Mike laughed. “It's the only right way to eat eggs. Mom says it's disgusting, but the flavors balance each other out.
Will now know what it feels like to be deeply understood and seen all the way down to his soul. “Exactly!” He giggled.
Mike's face brightened and his eyes crinkled. “I knew we were gonna be friends.” He smiled.
∆∆∆
Wills bony knees slammed onto the tile as he lifted the toilet lid up just in time. His mouth filled with saliva and his throat burned as his body forcefully expelled the food from his stomach. The stench of sour vomit hit him immediately and another wave of half digested food chunks poured out from his lips in a repulsive liquidy mix. Spit hung from his lips as his head hovered over the bowl, a layer of sweat glistening on his forehead. Will breathed heavily, attempting to slow it down, but the fear of throwing up again beat him when his stomach lurched and throat tightened as more disgusting brown fluid flowed into the toilet.
Will’s unsure how long he stayed slumped in the basement bathroom before he slowly got to his feet and flushed the sick down the pipes. He stood in front of his reflection, taking in the greasy face and saliva slick lips. He felt so gross. His taste buds begged to be cleansed of the foul residual acid still sitting in his mouth. He turned the sink faucet and leaned in close, gathering fresh cold water between his lips. He swished it around a few times before spitting it out. Will repeated the steps until his mouth was thoroughly rinsed. Then, brushed his teeth until the mint flavor was the only thing he could taste.
Why would he throw up? Will didn’t think he ate too quickly or too much. He highly doubted that it was something in Karen's food. Her ingredients were a hundred percent fresh and cooked to perfection. Will supposed he could have caught something on the drive down from California, who knows what he might've gotten, but his nose isn't stuffy and he doesn't feel like he has a fever. He feels like the state of Indiana has something against him to make him sick for no reason.
Instead of letting anyone know what happened, Will showered.
∆∆∆
The day passed by in mild isolation inside the dim yellow lit basement. The angle of the sunlight streaming in slowly moved across the carpet as Will colored. Every single shade of red and orange he could get his hands on are packed loosely on the couch cushion. Colored pencils, crayons, and markers are used interchangeably as Will tries his absolute hardest to bring the shade of the portal to life on paper. No matter how much he blended, he couldn't seem to get the illusion that the shades of tomato and pumpkin moved into and through each other like an oil spill. He couldn't get the otherworldly aura that surrounded him when he first entered it. The climate was something so out of the ordinary, it was not able to be conceived in the boring, ordinary, world.
Time passed on, doors opened and closed upstairs.
His mom and Hopper didn't bring his bed frame in.
At some point, Karen's voice rang out, calling the house for supper.
Will stayed exactly where he was, obsessing over which drawing of the cracked open wall was most accurate. The papers were spread over the couch while Will sat on his knees, reviewing his work.
“I can’t decide between these two.” Will pointed. “They have decent shading. But, this one looks glossy. If I could combine this one,” He picked up the paper. “And this one, I’d have the best drawing yet.”
Why don't you make another drawing, then?
Will turned his head and glared at Yoda, who laid on the coffee table, plastic eyes wide open. “Because I don't want to.” He started stacking the papers together and set them on the coffee table and flopped on the couch, exhausted. “And I’m tired.”
Are you gonna sleep in jeans?
Will scooped Yoda into his arms and relaxed onto his back, setting the tiger on his sternum to look him in the eyes. “Yep.” He said, pushing the hair on his forehead out of his face.
Isn't it uncomfortable?
“A little? Not really. How would you know?”
I wouldn't.
“Would you want to know?” Will asked, eyebrow cocked.
…What are you thinking?
“How cute you’d look in a mini pair of pants.” Will sat up, sleepiness forgotten, and took Yoda with him to the storage boxes sporting a thin layer of dust. He peeked inside them, finding knitting supplies and old magazines.
What are you looking for?
“Maybe they have baby clothes in here.” Will said, heaving a very heavy box to get to the bottom one. Yoda sat on the top as Will lifted. As the full weight settled in his arms, his weak muscles protested and the box slid from his hands, colliding with the ground with the very distinct sound of glass clinking together.
Will froze, looking down at Yoda, still atop the box.
“If anyone asks, you did it.”
Will sank to his knees and unfolded the cardboard opening. “Ah-ha!”
Will pulled out a babydoll, bright blue eyes and white-blonde hair. Deeper inside, there were doll dresses and shoes, tiny enough that it definitely could fit on a stuffed tiger. Will grinned and turned to Yoda. “You’re about to feel really pretty.”
Oh no.
Will continued to dig through the clothing items, when a deafening singular clock chime disturbed the silence and startled him. His hands stilled as he turned toward that familiar basement wall. The portal emitted a bright red glow that swallowed the room in a shade of tomato. The colors danced beneath the layers as if it was beckoning Will to come closer. His heart pounded and his eyes widened.
He pinched himself on the arm. Twice.
It was real. Will knew it was real. Deep down in his gut, he had felt it. He knew what he felt last night was real. Now there was so denying it. The portal was irrevocably there and present. A sense of relief washed over Will as he stared at the shiny opening waiting for him. And it wasn't just relief that he hadn't been dreaming, it was hope. Hope that this world he had discovered actually existed and he could return to it.
Will was already making his way to the couch and pushing it aside. He sank to his knees, jeans hitting the carpet, and dove into the slimy webbed portal, closing his eyes once again. It was just as wet as it was the last time. His pants soaked up the liquid and got heavier to crawl forward, Will's head was dripping with whatever gunk material formed the space.
Will's hands finally reached the carpet of the other side and he internally sighed in relief. He got to his feet and the weight of his jeans lifted as the shiny substance disappeared without a trace off his skin and clothes. He glanced around the basement, a smile sliding onto his face as he noticed his own bed was still there.
Will raced up the stairs and ran into the living room.
His mother was sitting on the couch with one leg crossed over another, her white eyes cloudy as always. A soft smile on her face that became apparent when Will got closer that she was trying to hold it back. Chester laid next to her and immediately sprung off to greet Will with sloppy kisses on his hands. “Hi!” He said in the high pitch, patting the dog everywhere. “Hi, boy.”
“Will! You’re just in time.” Joyce said, her voice smooth.
“For what?”
“I finished your robe and hat not too long ago. I figured you’d want to give it a test run, right?” She tilted her head to the side, and Will's eyes grew to the size of the moon. His mouth dropped open in astonishment as she reached to her side and pulled out a deep purple material with silver stars sewn into the fabric, a matching pointed hat with the same design. Seeing the completed costume brought out a visceral feeling buried deep inside him. He hopped in place as his limbs shook with excitement like a bunny being promised a carrot. His heart was about to burst out of his chest like the aliens from that movie he wasn't supposed to have seen. Will squealed as he hugged his mother, careful about the robe in her hands. “Oh, Thank you, mom!” He cried joyously.
Joyce laughed and Will grabbed his costume, finding the neck hole and pulled it over his shirt. The fabric was soft and flowy, it felt like magic could flow from his fingertips any moment. He slid the hat over his bowl cut and realized he needed to see what he looked like. “I’ll be right back.” He said as fast as he could. And he ran to the bathroom, finding the light quickly.
The person in the mirror wasn’t from the ordinary world. He wasn’t even the tiniest bit familiar with what a car or taxes were. His ears were pointed and have always been that way. He fought terrible, vicious monsters with his all-powerful magic spells, saved many from the teeth of ravenous beasts and brought justice to those slain before him. Sorcery was built into his blood and bones, laid deep beneath the skin, waiting patiently to be called upon.
He had a kind heart.
He was Will the Wise.
Will tilted his chin up, getting used to the confident, radiating reflection. A smile grew on his lips, and he ran out of the bathroom to his mother. “Mom, look!” He said, voice quivering from how ecstatic he was.
He twirled in the middle of the living room, holding onto his hat, showing off the sparkly silver stars. Chester barked twice. “You like it, boy?”
“Sweetie, you are so adorable.” Joyce said fondly, his joy clearly rubbing off on her.
She got to her feet and said, “I have two more surprises for you.”
Will gasped animatedly. There couldn't possibly be more. “Really?” He asked with wide eyes.
“Of course. We have to go outside for them; I suggest the garden.”
“Okay!” Will nodded just about fifty times. Joyce went to the front door with him following closely behind and threw the door open.
Will was speechless.
Apparently, ‘Garden’ was a loose term.
The muddy yard that Will saw in his world was completely showered in various flowers. Rows upon rows of beautifully shaped and planted flowers till they reach the woods. Walkways of a light gravel twisted around the plants in a pattern Will couldn’t discern. Shades of yellow, rose, lavender, and periwinkle dotted along the long garden. Small lanterns provided enough light for the colors to shine gloriously under the cloudless, twinkling night sky. Fireflies flew wherever they pleased, alerting people of their presence in small blinks.
It was the most magical thing Will had ever seen.
“Are you ready?”
Joyce’s voice snapped him out of the haze his brain was in. He was still standing in the doorway, gaping at the biggest display of flowers he’d ever seen. “...This isn’t one of the surprises?”
“No, sweetie.” She confirmed with a soft grin. “This is.” She held out a wand-looking stick.
Will stepped out of the house, Chester ran ahead of him, winding through the many paths in the yard with all his energy.
As Will got closer, he realized that it in fact was a wand.
A piece of wood that started thicker at the bottom and got thinner to the point.
He might just pass out.
It was quite difficult searching for the perfect stick in Lenora. But this one had value. It's a gift from his mother.
Will took the wand from her hand, gripping it tight, like a true wizard would. He inspected it closely, ensuring it was real and he was actually holding a magical object. He took a step back from her, posing with his chin up and wand prepared. “How do I look?”
Joyce laughed. “It’s a wizard if I’ve ever seen one.”
Will giggled, his cheeks dusted pink.
He glanced at the garden again, and a thought came up into his mind as he watched Chester trot and smell the flowers. “Where did Mike and his parents go?” He still had a smile on his face, but it felt a bit out of place to ask at the moment.
His mother didn’t falter, “That’s your second surprise. Close your eyes.” She held her palms to her eyes to emphasize, then dropped them.
Will obeyed without a word.
He fiddled with the wood in his hand for a second, listening carefully and heard a pair of footsteps crunching on the gravel.
He also heard the clanking of metal…?
The steps halted in front of him; Will could feel the air shift around him with the presence of another person.
“Open your eyes!” Joyce insisted.
Will didn’t know what he could've possibly been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t Mike.
Mike, whose deep brown eyes were a stark milky white.
Mike, who wore almost an entire set of silver armor. His chest and arms down to his feet. A maroon cape flowed from around his neck to his calves. In the center of his chest plate, there was a design of a bright red heart with a sunny yellow crown above it. It must’ve been an imperative symbol to be worn so straightforwardly. A sword rests at his side in a sheath. Was that…
Mike was a–
Joyce's hands sat on Mike's shoulders as he offered a shy smile to Will. “Here’s your paladin.”
Will stuttered. “M–Mine?”
“Yes, honey. He swore an oath to protect you.” Joyce rubbed her palms up and down Mike's upper arm, like she was warming him up on a chilly night.
Mike gave a short wave.
“Hi.” Will said with an encouraging grin.
It wavered when Mike didn’t reply. He just stood there, his expressive facial muscles doing all the work. Will looked to his mother for assistance.
“He doesn't speak, sweetie.” She explained.
“Oh…” Will whispered, now understanding.
He’s just like me when I was younger.
“He talked too much, don't you think?” Joyce said gently. “He lied to you about something he didn’t fully understand, and now he won’t lie again.” Her smile was soft. “Oh! And– before I forget– that wand of yours can do some special things.” She stepped around Mike to Will. She took ahold of his hand with the wand and directed it up into the air, pointing it to the starry sky. “Now, I want you to say whatever comes to your mind.” She conducted.
Will thought about how he felt in the pose, the breeze ruffling through his robe, the sky such a dark shade of blue it almost looked black. He could see it so clearly.
The gigantuous reptilian monster stomped its massive claws into the dirt, ripping up flowers and dirt as the eight serpentine heads moved individually surrounding the gaping maw that dripped acidic saliva onto anything under it. The beast's tail whipped back and forth, begging for useless flesh to be placed into the pincers and fed to the hungry stomach. It roared and roared, sensing powerful magic nearby. Delicious, delectable magic. A simple elf? I will eat him like the many others, one of the heads thought. The monster charged to Will, the earth shaking under each slam into the punctured ground. And as soon as it got close enough–
“Fireball!” Will shouted into the night sky.
A warm blaze of flames burst from the tip of the wand, lighting the area up around them more than the lanterns ever would. They shot outward and sparked forward a couple yards, lingering in the air a moment before fading away like a dying ember. “Did you see that?” Will asked his mother in disbelief. He stared at the wand in his hand like it was the most sacred object in the universe. “I'm a wizard!” He hopped in place, vibrating an intense energy. “I'm a real wizard.”
Will locked eyes with Mike, who was looking at him like he was the most amazing person in the world. With all the attention, a nervous blush rose to his cheeks.
“Rahhh. Who entered my lair?”
“Is that what a dragon sounds like?”
The familiar voices snapped Will out of his trance.
“Mrs. Wheeler? Mr. Wheeler?” Will gasped, bewildered, chin dropping down and eyes bulging wide. Of course it was quite a surprise that they were here, but that wasn't what shocked him, it was that they were wearing costumes.
Modern housewife Karen was wearing a pair of slip-on crimson wings with a sparkly underwing. She had matched red pants and a plain blouse on. A headband displaying two maroon horns sat in her dark hair.
Karen's costume was so normal looking compared to strict businessman Ted's outfit. Which, frankly, revealed way too much.
He was bare-chested– save for the armor straps that crossed over, meeting at his sternum. A shoulder pad with large curved spikes angled upward on his arm. On his wrist and ankles, there were decorative bracelets tied together.
And on his bottom half, he wore a deep brown kilt that exhibited his extremely hairy legs that Will did not want to look at another second. It was clear enough to him that he was supposed to be an ogre.
A laugh snuck out of Will's lips before he could stop it. He brought his wand-free hand to his mouth to attempt to stifle the snickers.
And then he glanced over to Mike, who looked thoroughly distraught at his father's display. His eyebrows were pinched down and his nose was bunched up in disgust. His lips were parted and had no idea what to do. There was a bright red flush on his face– probably from getting a full view of Ted's legs for the first time, ever.
That's what broke Will.
He burst into laughter, expelling so much oxygen he felt light headed. He held onto his stomach as he nudged Mike with his shoulder. Slowly, but surely his lips quirked into a growing grin and his shoulders shook with almost silent breaths.
Will snuck another glance at Ted's stylish new outfit and wheezed even harder, tears forming in his eyes.
“Are they laughing at me?” Ted raised an eyebrow to Karen.
“They most definitely are.” She confirmed.
“I guess I'll have no choice but to eat them.” He shrugged. Taking steps toward Will and Mike.
Their laughter died down quickly as the scary, hairy man approached them. Will searched for his mother, who was returning inside the house. “Mom, help!”
“You guys' better start running.” And that was the last thing Will heard before Ted came charging toward them in all his pant-less glory. Will squealed in playful terror as he and Mike winded through the garden paths. The clank of Mike's knight armor rang out, startling the bugs living their lives in the plants. There's no way that was comfortable to run in at all. At some point, Chester joined them on their escape from the evil monster. They zoomed past hibiscus, tulips, and mums, colors swirling into one as they raced by. Occasionally chuckling at the silliness of it all. “Chester!” Will said breathlessly. How is that old man still running?? “Distract him!”
As if the dog understood him, he switched directions and walked straight in front of Ted's feet, effectively slowing him down.
Him and Mike shifted to a halt, catching their breaths as they watched Ted pick up Chester and walk back toward the house, murmuring something to him about getting you a treat.
Will sighed in relief, his leg muscles hot and his back sweaty. They were on the edge of the flowers now, between them and the endless number of trees. There was a small patch of grass and Will plopped down onto his back, his legs thanking him. His wizard hat slid off and he brought it to rest loosely on his stomach. Mike stiffly got down to the ground on the side closer to the woods and stretched his legs out, leaning back on his hands.
Will watched the stars in the midnight sky and his eyes instinctively slid over to Mike, who had his head turned away.
“You don't have to keep the armor on.” Will commented.
Mike's hair shined in the dim lantern light as he faced Will. He gnawed on his bottom lip, unsure. “If it's uncomfortable for you.”
Mike hesitantly brought one foot to his chest, unhooking the metal plate from his shin. And did the same for the other leg. Then took the knee attachments off.
Will looked at Mike. “That's it?”
Mike shrugged, pursing his lips.
It was only then that Will noticed how quiet nature was considering they were laying in the grass. At night, the crickets would be chirping annoyingly loud, squirrels and raccoons wandered the trees, deer traveled from yard to yard.
Birds and bats flew across the sky.
But there was none of it. No comforting sounds of knowing you're not completely alone because the animals will always be there.
Will came to the realization that he wished Mike could talk right now. Fill in the silence with whatever his heart pleased. Learn more about his likes and dislikes, what they might have in common.
“Can you imagine being this happy everyday?” Will sighed, his body that was buzzing with overwhelming energy now exasperated.
Mike met his gaze, something akin to worry in his white eyes, lips almost formed into a tight line. He shrugged again, face smoothing into something casual.
Will gave him a soft smile– just for him– and stretched his arms out horizontally.
Something cold and slimy touched one of his hands when it laid near the garden. He gasped, sitting up and inspecting his hand. On the side of it, a black slimy sludge stuck and dropped off his hand like thickened spit. “Eugh,” Will's face contorted and scrunched up in disgust, he wiped his hand in the grass, but the stickiness stayed like dried glue.
Will looked where he put his hand and took in a sharp breath. The flowers– if you can call them that– were rotted with a black mold that swallowed the bright colors whole and killed the grass beneath them. The ground was mushy with a mix of putrid rot and dirt.
Will wiped his hand quicker in the grass, and moved closer to Mike, shoulders touching. Mike held his palm out on his knee, his expression soft and open. Will accepted his hand and the paladin took out a handkerchief and managed to get the icky texture clean off his hand. His hand was so tiny compared to Mike's, it fit perfectly in his.
Will met Mike's eyes and the wizard turned his head away shyly. He leaned into Mike's side and rested his head on his shoulder. It should've felt uncomfortable with the armor in the way, but Will couldn't bring himself to care with how droopy his eyelids felt. His palm still rested against Mike's as he drifted off into a deep sleep.
Right before he slid away into unconsciousness, he felt the warmth of long taps on his hand.
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