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“Mom! Mike and I are going to go to the arcade!” Will called, pulling Mike down the hallway with a careful grip on his wrist. His mother was in the kitchen, sitting at the table and tapping her cigarette against the ceramic tray resting beside her. She looked at the two boys, moments from nodding before waving her hand out to them and grabbing Will’s arm.
“That shirt has a stain on it, Will.” She pointed to the dirt stain he had collected tripping earlier that day on his way to Castle Byers. Both of them had nearly fallen over each other in their race to the fort. He was glad his mother noticed the stain and not the scabbing scrapes along his hands. “Put on a new one so I can try and clean that one for you, baby. It’ll ruin your favorite shirt.”
“It’s fine, Mom.” Will insisted, grabbing his coat.
“Will, I’m doing the laundry today. Give me the shirt.” She said, holding her hand out.
“Fine. I’ll be right back.” Will sighed and grabbed Mike’s hand, pulling him back to his room. Mike followed behind with skidding footsteps, hesitant if he should have been following Will. Will left Mike in the doorway as he went up to his chest of drawers, pulling a change of shirt out before pulling his current one up over his head. “Here, will you give this to her?” He held the stained shirt out to Mike.
He stared blankly at Will’s bare torso. Will recoiled, using the balled up shirts to cover himself. Almost as a reflex, as his body was covered, Mike reached forward to pull the shirts away again. Will stood rigid, Mike’s hand suddenly touching his side. His fingers grazing his skin delicately– as if pressing too hard would send his hand all the way through it.
“What are you doing?” Will whispered, unable to look away from the concerned eyes not looking back at him.
“What is that?” Mike asked, his eyes staying focused on Will’s body. “Is that from today?”
Without looking, Will knew it was the mass of scar tissue bubbled on his side from when Jonathan, Nancy, and his mother were trying to burn the monster out of him– and Nancy decided to do so literally. He didn’t remember what it felt like, the white hot metal practically melting a portion of his skin, but looking at it made Will remember what it was like to be absent. Looking at it reminded him of standing behind a film of fog hearing his mother’s voice, Mike’s screams, but like it was from the next room over. Not being able to remember the pain made Will curious what he missed– what other things he was supposed to feel; Mike had a certain closeness to Will since his episodes, but Will couldn’t remember why. What was he supposed to feel towards to Mike? Was the heart fluttering and churning stomach not enough?
“It’s just a scar.” Will said, pushing Mike’s hand away. “I’ve always had it.”
“No you haven’t.” Mike countered. “I’ve been to the pool with you before. I would have noticed something like that.”
“Fine. It’s new.” Will placed his stained shirt in Mike’s hands, forcing him to grip something else. “It’s just a burn.”
“Burn? From what?” Mike panicked, eyes widening. “Was there a–a fire or something? What are you talking about?”
“It’s nothing.” Will said, shaking his head. “It’s from a few months ago.”
“A few months…” Mike echoed. His expression slowly twisted as he thought back to Halloween, to when everything slowly started its downward spiral. “Is that from when those doctors burned that vine? Did they do that? Oh my God, Will! Did you tell your mom?”
“Mike! No, it’s fine.” Will cried, tugging his shirt down before grabbing Mike’s arm. “They didn’t do it.”
“Then who did?” Mike asked, lowering his voice as he stepped away from the door. “Was it your Dad? D–Did he do that?” Mike barely waited for Will to answer before he was turned towards the door, about to run to Will’s mother reporting news she would know to be a lie having seen the truth on her own.
“Mike! No, wait!” Will begged, grabbing his hand and digging his heels into the floor in an attempt to stop him. “It was Nancy, Mike. It was an accident!”
Mike froze, relaxing his forceful pull and letting his hand hang in Will’s. “Nancy?”
“Yes.” Will nodded. That’s what Jonathan told him when he asked. He watched over Will the whole time, watched Nancy nearly stab through his flesh, and Will only had a pink scar to remember an entire week of vacant memories. “She was trying to help.”
“Help?” Mike cried, only a hair below shouting. “How could she do that to you!”
“I don’t remember it, Mike. I really don’t!” Will tried to suffocate the fire flaring in Mike’s eyes; he never saw him so suddenly enraged. “It’s just this thing I have. It’s fine! She was trying to save me.”
“What did she do?” Mike’s hand slipped out of Will’s to try and grab at the scar through Will’s shirt. His hand hovered over the fabric but fell to his side. “What happened?”
“It was a fire poker.” Will sighed. “That’s what Jonathan says. She tried to smoke it out… So she just pressed it into my skin… And it was hot, apparently.”
Mike was quiet, biting his lip. “But you don’t remember it? You weren’t really there?” For once, Mike sounded hopeful to learn his friend was far too possessed to feel a damn thing.
“Not really.” Will assured him. “I remember you talking to me though… I remember a little of that. Kind of.”
“But not a fire poker stabbing you?”
“It was less important.” Will muttered.
He tried to laugh the blush off his cheeks. He knew he failed, but was thankful Mike responded with blushing of his own. Mike’s hand reached out again, Will tensing as he expected Mike’s hand to land on his scar. He clenched his eyes shut, not prepared to have another set of hands try to feel the pain for him, but didn’t feel anything against his side. Instead, Mike’s hand was pressed firmly in Will’s.
“Come on, let’s get you to the arcade.” Mike smiled, pulling their arms close to his side. “Being fireproof means you have to beat Lucas’s high score on Dragon’s Lair.”