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Friday, April 10, 1981
“The Party sneaks down the dark, narrow alleyway,” Mike intoned slowly. “The night is quiet and a light breeze is blowing. The torches are few and far between, and the buildings block the moonlight. It sounds quiet – too quiet.”
“Too quiet?” interrupted Lucas. “Uh-uh. You remember the last time it was too quiet?”
“Caecilia,” Dustin shuddered. “I see if I can perceive anything down the alleyway ahead of us.”
“Roll for wisdom,” Mike replied evenly.
“Wait!” cried Will. “I have a +4 on wisdom!”
Dustin shrugged. “Then you can try next.” His tongue stuck out slightly as he rolled the die in his hand. It rolled across the table and landed on…
“A two,” Lucas said softly.
“Plus two!” Lucas defended.
“…A four.”
“Yes, Lucas, that’s how numbers work.” They stared at Mike expectantly.
“You stare forward down the dark alleyway and can see…” Mike paused for dramatic effect, “You’re in a dark alleyway.”
Dustin rolled his eyes. “Hey guys,” he said in his Nog voice, “We’re in a dark alleyway.”
“Gimme, gimme, gimme,” chanted Will, holding out his hands. Dustin dropped the die in. Will rolled quickly. “Nineteen plus four is twenty-three,” he stated.
Mike smiled and shuffled some notes behind the DM screen. “Will the Wise peers over Nog’s shoulder and can make out the outline of what looks like a man in a tattered cape peering out of a side alley. The alley ends in a dead end.”
“Is the man holding anything?” Will asked.
“A knife.”
“Pickpocket!” accused Lucas. “I raise my bow and…”
“But he could have good intel,” Dustin observed, cracking his knuckles menacingly.
“Mike the Mighty moves forward,” Mike narrated. “Come on guys,” he added in his Mike the Mighty voice, “Hands on your weapons.”
“Halt,” Mike said in a low, scratchy voice, speaking for the mysterious figure, “Who goes there?”
“We’re but a group of weary travelers,” Mike replied in his Mike the Mighty voice.
“Weary travelers, eh? Not too weary to keep your hands off your weapons, I see.”
“But a simple precaution!”
“A man might get the wrong idea,” the stranger said menacingly.
“You –” started Dustin, but Mike cut him off.
“You have nothing to fear from us,” Mike the Mighty said confidently, “If we have nothing to fear from you. We’ve heard tidings of strange happenings in these parts.”
“Strange happenings, eh?” mused the stranger, “Like what?”
“Like –” Dustin tried to cut in.
“Like disappearances,” Mike continued on blithely, ignoring Dustin’s scowl. “Mysterious fires. Poisonings.”
“Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that,” the stranger huffed. “I’m just alone out here, making a living.”
“A living?” Lucas snorted. “You mean –”
“Shut up,” hissed Mike, “We’re trying to get intel out of him, right?”
“You mean pickpocketing?” Lucas shouted over Mike.
Mike growled in frustration. “Fine,” he said in his normal voice, “Have it your way.” He began to intone in his DM voice. “The stranger looks offended and suddenly draws a dagger from his jacket. Roll for initiative!”
They all rolled and Dustin won with a 17, earning him a high-five from Will.
“I take my war hammer,” Dustin said slowly, “And turn and attack Mike the Mighty.”
“What?” Mike retorted. “No, seriously, Dustin.”
“Oisnogtwaerfayn,” Dustin began. Lucas and Will gasped – Dustin only used his character’s full name when things were getting serious. “Oisnogtwaerfayn takes his war hammer, turns, and attacks Mike the Mighty.”
“What the hell, Dustin.” Mike’s voice was flat.
Dustin held Mike’s gaze as he rolled his d20 carefully. It sputtered across the table and finally came to rest in front of Mike, showing – “Twenty,” Dustin read defiantly. “The hit lands.”
“Roll for damage,” Mike said slowly, a mixture of confusion and anger shining from his eyes. Will and Lucas just watched.
Dustin grabbed his d6 and rolled a – “Five, plus three is eight.”
“What the hell, Dustin!” Mike shouted. “That’s not how you play the game!”
“Yeah, well, you know how else you don’t play the game?” Dustin retorted. Mike had once thought Dustin couldn’t ever be really intimidating because of his lisp. It turned out he was wrong. “By not letting your players play! You just monologue between Mike the Mighty and NPCs and the DM and I, for one, am sick and tired of it. I play D&D to have a good time with my friends, not to watch the Mike show!”
“What?” Mike spluttered. “I don’t do that! I don’t do that, right, guys? Right?” Lucas grimaced uncomfortably. Will looked like he was on the edge of tears. Mike looked around for confirmation.
“Uh,” Lucas offered once the silence became too uncomfortable to bear, “You kind of do sometimes, Mike.”
“Yeah, well, you know what? Screw you too, Lucas. And screw you, Dustin. And screw all of you! Make your own campaign if I’m so terrible to play with!” Mike slammed down the DM screen.
Will jolted upright and burst into tears. He ran up the basement stairs.
Mike’s eyes went wide. “Oh, shit,” he muttered under his breath and ran after Will, leaving Dustin and Lucas alone. He followed Will to the upstairs bathroom and tried to open the door, but it was locked. “Will,” he called, knocking, “Open up. It’s just me. Mike.”
“Go ‘way, Mike,” Will called back through his tears.
“Will,” Mike squeaked. He could hear Will’s sobs through the door. “Will, please. I’m not going to hurt you, Will. I’m so sorry.”
Silence, save for Will’s sniffling. Then – “Sit down, Mike.”
“What?”
If possible, Will’s voice was even softer. “Sit down, Mike. Backs to the door.”
Oh. Mike’s heart sank. Backs to the door was a Mrs. Sinclair favorite. Whenever Lucas and Erica got into a fight, they had to sit on either side of a door and talk until they reached an agreement. Was this a fight? Were they fighting? He sank down against the door, feeling tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. “Will, I –”
“Describe what happened in your own words,” Will said neutrally.
“Will, please, I just –”
“Describe what happened in your own words,” Will repeated.
Mike let out a long sigh. “We were all having a good time playing D&D until Dustin decided to be an asshole and attacked me for no reason. Your turn,” he said reluctantly.
“You and Dustin started fighting,” Will said in a small voice. It sounded like the tears were starting to let up. “How did that make you feel?”
“I – Angry, of course. Confused, I guess? It feels like it just came out of nowhere. You?”
“Scared,” whispered Will. “D – Lonnie used to yell and throw things.”
Mike didn’t know his heart had any further to sink, but apparently it did. “Will, you know I –”
“Not yet,” Will managed to sneak out, then continued more deliberately. “What would make you feel better?”
Mike had always thought Step 3 was the hardest. He just felt things. How was he supposed to know what would make him feel better? “I dunno, Dustin taking back his attack, I guess?”
“A hug,” whispered Will from the other side of the door. Mike heard motion and then the telltale snick of the door being unlocked. He opened the door cautiously to find Will standing by the bathtub, his face scrubbed raw from tears.
“Hey, c’mere,” Mike whispered, and he almost fell backwards as Will collapsed into his arms. He eased the door shut behind him with his foot. “I got you,” he breathed into Will’s shoulder, bringing one hand up to stroke Will’s hair the way he liked. Will shuddered and Mike felt the fresh tears soaking into his shirt. “Will, it’s okay, I’m here,” he whispered, holding him tight and feeling his own tears sliding down his cheeks onto Will’s shoulder.
He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, only that they eventually ended up sitting with his back to the tub, Will’s face buried in his chest, his hand still stroking Will’s hair. Both of their tears had dried up and their breathing was slowly returning to normal. He might almost have thought Will had fallen asleep if he didn’t make a soft whine every time Mike loosened his grip slightly.
They heard the front door open, the murmur of voices, and then it closed again. Will finally brought his head up and looked at Mike. Mike got lost in his eyes, not even registering that he was saying words. “Sorry, what?” he asked.
“Did they leave?” Will repeated softly.
“Oh.” His stomach twisted funnily. “I dunno. We should check, I guess.” He felt the loss as Will tore himself away from Mike’s grasp and slowly stood up. He gladly accepted Will’s hand to stand up himself and hung on perhaps a moment longer than was strictly necessary.
“Here,” he muttered, passing Will a washcloth. They cleaned their faces and headed downstairs.
“Oh, there you are, boys,” his mom called as soon as she heard them descending, before they were even in view. Mom powers. “Dustin and Lucas left a few minutes ago. Lucas said Dustin wasn’t feeling well, the poor dear, and he was going to walk him home. Are you still staying, Will?”
Mike almost answered for Will, but thought better and glanced at Will instead. His face glowed in the soft light of the hall lamp.
“Yeah?” Will said tentatively, glancing back at Mike. “Yeah,” he said more confidently at Mike’s nod. “If that’s okay?”
“Of course, dear,” Mrs. Wheeler cooed, “You’re always welcome here.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Mike grumbled before pulling Will back upstairs. “My room or the basement?” Mike asked, trying to sound casual. He watched the gears turn in Will’s head and his heart jumped to his throat until –
“Your room?” asked Will.
Mike breathed out in relief. “Yeah.” When they slept in the basement, they had separate sleeping bags. When they slept in Mike’s room, his parents thought they used the bunk beds, but they always shared Mike’s bed nowadays. Will said it helped him sleep better, and Mike knew it did. If sleeping better happened to involve subconscious cuddling in the middle of the night, well, that’s what friends were for, right?
“Cool,” Will smiled.
Mike smiled back. “Cool.”
* * *
Monday, April 13, 1981
It might not have been a Friday, but this 13th was feeling pretty terrible anyways. Will arrived to school last, like usual, and found the Party in their usual place outside the school – but instead of the usual babble of voices, there was just… silence. Maybe a lull in the conversation? But no. He scanned the scene rapidly – Mike, with his arms folded and a scowl on his face; Dustin, pointedly looking in the other direction; Lucas, awkwardly scuffing his shoe on the pavement. A tableaux, as their art teacher would say, although Will had no interest in drawing this one.
“Hey guys,” he said, putting on a smile as he got closer. He was met with stony silence. Mike glanced up at him once he stopped moving, but quickly looked away. Lucas grunted in acknowledgment.
“Hey guys,” Will tried again with more emphasis in his voice this time. He lightly elbowed Mike in the ribs earning a soft “oof” and half of an unwilling smile before Mike returned to his scowl.
“Guys, seriously?” asked Will. “The science fair is in two weeks!” No reaction. “We can’t let all of our data go to waste!” Still no reaction. “Can’t we just move past this stupid fight?”
“Stupid?” yelled Dustin and Mike, then proceeded to talk over each other.
“Mike is being a self-centered know-it-all –”
“Dustin is totally blowing things out of proportion –”
“ – who can’t admit fault, like, ever, and I –”
“ – and doesn’t know when to let things go. We were –”
“ – doesn’t seem to realise that D&D is supposed to be –”
“ – all having a good time when he decided to be –”
“ – fun for everyone, not just him. You even told us –”
“ – a whiny baby about something stupid and –”
“ – you wished Mike would talk less, didn’t you, Will?”
“ – now he won’t – wait, what?” Mike stopped short. “You’re on their side, Will?” Will was silent.
“Oh, so you’re on Mike’s side then?” Dustin countered. “Big surprise there, Byers. Plot twist of the century.”
“No!” Will shouted, causing the rest to quiet down in surprise. “I’m not on anyone’s side. I’m on the side of getting past this so we can have an awesome science fair project and finish an awesome campaign.”
“Awesome campaign,” Dustin snorted. “Real neutral of you there, Byers.”
Will glared right back at him. “And it’s your science fair project,” he reminded Dustin.
“Yeah, well, maybe I can finish it without Mike,” Dustin retorted. “I’m going to class.” He stalked off without looking back.
Lucas trailed after him half-heartedly, casting Will a helpless glance. “I’m with Dustin on this one, man,” he muttered, his mouth twisting weirdly at the corner.
“Will?” Mike finally spoke when it was just the two of them. “Aren’t you going to leave too?”
Something sparked inside Will. “Maybe I am if you’re going to treat me like that.” He turned to leave.
“No, wait!” Mike sounded scared and reached out a hand to grab Will’s sleeve. Will shook him off. Mike followed him as he walked into the school. “Will, I’m sorry, please just talk to me? I swear I didn’t –”
“Mike.” Will stopped and turned. “You know I hate it when people fight. I don’t want to fight with you, or for any of us to be fighting, but I’m pretty mad at you right now and I don’t wanna talk to you.”
It was – too hard to watch Mike’s face fall. “Oh,” he said softly and swallowed. Will thought he saw tears at the corners of his eyes. “Later, then?”
Will softened his expression – how could he stay mad at such a pitiable creature? “Yeah, later,” he replied. “Lunch?”
“Lunch,” Mike confirmed, treating the word like a lifeline.
“Bye, Mike,” Will said and walked away before he lost his willpower. He knew if he glanced back he’d never leave.
* * *
The morning was, predictably, terrible. Mrs. Macalpine definitely noticed something was up when her four star students weren’t answering any questions, or – even more atypically – weren't whispering to each other during class. But what could she do against the stubbornness of Dustin and Mike? She even paired them up for a worksheet, only for them both to finish it independently before anyone else in the class. The lights kept on flickering too, which certainly didn’t help anything.
When they finally got to lunch, Lucas and Dustin sat a few seats away from where they normally sat, closer to the no-man’s-land between girls and boys. Will weathered their glares as he ignored them and sat down next to Mike, like always. He bumped their shoulders together, then lingered a bit. “Hey, wanna grab lunch?”
Mike sighed. “Yeah.” He stood up again, almost tripping over the bench.
“Whoa, there!” Will reached out a hand to steady him.
“Aren’t paladins supposed to be doing the protecting?” Mike asked wryly.
“Everyone needs protecting sometimes,” Will nodded sagely.
Mike cast him a sidelong glance. “They don’t call you Will the Wise for nothing, huh?”
Will smiled at the praise. “I try my best.”
“I’m surprised you’re still talking to me,” Mike muttered as they headed towards the lunch line.
“What? Why?”
“Dustin said you agreed with him, so I figured…” Mike trailed off.
“I –” Will started, then stopped. Lying wouldn’t help anything in the long run. “I have said that,” he admitted, “And I have meant it.” He winced at Mike’s hurt face.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered, betrayal coloring his tone.
“Because it wasn’t a big deal,” Will explained. At least this he was sure of. “I do things that annoy you too, like spend too long on drawings instead of paying attention to you, or –” he floundered for a moment – “Oh! Or smiling and agreeing to do what you want when we hang out even if I don’t want to.” Mike grimaced in acknowledgment. “But that doesn’t mean we’re not friends. It just means we’re human. Yeah, D&D would be a little more fun if it were a little more balanced, but I still love it how it is. It’s not a big deal to me, honest. And I hate that Dustin’s making it a federal issue like this.”
“Yeah.” The corner of Mike’s mouth twisted. “So how do we fix it?”
“I don’t know,” Will admitted, “But we’ll figure it out.”
* * *
Tuesday, April 14, 1981
Tuesday was just as bad as Monday. Actually, it was worse because now Will was able to envision exactly what it would be like and dread it beforehand.
Mrs. Macalpine actually broached the subject when he went up to her desk to ask to go to the bathroom. “Yes, but first,” she began. Will tensed up. He knew what was coming and put on a neutral sort of smile. “Is there something going on with your friend group?”
“Hmm?” asked Will non-committally.
“You know,” she waved her hand vaguely, “Mike. And Lucas and Dustin. Usually the four of you are thick as thieves, but now…” She trailed off.
“Yeah,” Will acknowledged softly, “Mike and Dustin are fighting.” He grimaced.
Mrs. Macalpine’s face softened. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Will actually thought about it for a moment. “I don’t think so,” he concluded, “Not right now.” And that was that. Mrs. Macalpine handed over the pass and the rest of the day was a repeat of yesterday.
Will felt his anxiety grow throughout the day until he could barely hold it in on the bus ride home. He jiggled his leg aimlessly as he watched Hawkins speed by past the window, hating even more than usual that he was the last stop.
“Jonathan!” he called out as soon as he stepped through the front door.
“In here,” Jonathan called from his room. Will shrugged off his shoes and backpack and padded down the hallway. “Hey buddy,” Jonathan called when he saw him. “What’s up?”
Will sighed deeply and climbed up on the bed next to his brother. “What do you do when your friends are fighting?”
Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows. “Well, what are they fighting about?”
“D&D,” Will muttered. “Mike’s the DM – uh, dungeon master, uh – narrator – that’s all one thing, just trying to explain it – and he’s also Mike the Mighty and he’s also all of the NPCs – all of the other characters who aren’t us. And he’s really good at it! But sometimes it’s a lot of him talking to himself. And I guess Dustin got fed up with it so he attacked Mike with an axe.”
“Wait, what?” Jonathan jerked upright. “With an axe? Will, that’s serious! You’ve gotta –”
“No!” Will punched Jonathan’s arm lightly. “In the game, dummy. Nog – Dustin’s character – attacked Mike the Mighty with an axe.”
“Nog?”
“It’s short for – never mind. The point is, we’re supposed to be on the same side, battling evil. A Party. But now Dustin and Mike are fighting.”
“Had Dustin ever mentioned this before?”
“Yeah, a few times.”
“And what did Mike say?”
“Huh?”
“I thought you said they talked about it before?”
“Oh. No. Dustin just talked to Lucas and me about it.”
“…So Mike didn’t know this was a problem until Dustin attacked him?”
“Uh. I guess not?”
“That’s the problem, Will. It’s okay to get mad at people if they annoy you, but it’s not their fault if they don’t know, y’know? Was Mike talking too much?”
“I dunno,” Will equivocated. “Probably? But I kinda liked it too.”
“And no offense, but Mike is kinda oblivious most of the time, so he probably didn’t realise it was an issue, right?”
“Yeah,” Will agreed.
“So you gotta get them to talk to each other and understand where the other’s coming from. Communication is important.”
“Yeah, I guess. Thanks, Jonathan.” He got up to go but was caught up in a hug from behind.
“It’s gonna get better,” Jonathan murmured. “I promise.”
Will smiled wryly. “Thanks, Jonathan,” he said softly.
* * *
“I’m home!” Mike yelled as he slammed open the carport door.
“That’s nice.” Nancy glared at him from the breakfast table, textbooks and notebooks spread open around her.
Mike frowned. “Where’s Mom? I want a snack.”
Nancy rolled her eyes. “You’re ten now. You’re perfectly capable of getting your own snacks.”
“Yeah, but I don’t wanna,” Mike whined as he grabbed a bag of potato chips.
“Mike!” scolded Nancy. “Wash your hands first if you’re just going to reach into the bag like that!”
Mike grinned and reached back in. Nancy huffed. “You’re such a booger,” she complained. “Anyway, Mom went out to the store with Holly and I’m trying to study, so if you could just –”
“Wait,” said Mike, and realised from the withering glare sent his way that he was still chewing. He swallowed, then continued. “Do you – ever fight with your friends?”
Nancy narrowed her eyes. “Of course. Why? What have you done?”
“Why are you assuming that I did something?” Mike did his best to sound offended.
Nancy sighed and patted the seat next to her. “Sorry, I shouldn’t assume. Sit down?” Mike took the proffered seat. “Are you and Will fighting?”
“What? No! No. It’s Dustin. He’s being an ass–” he took in Nancy’s warning eyebrow and reconsidered – “astronomically stubborn.”
“An astronomically stubborn, huh?” Nancy quirked a smile. Mike nodded vigorously, not trusting himself to say anything else. “About what?” she prompted.
“He thinks I talk too much in D&D,” Mike explained. “But instead of being honorable about it and calling a Summit for the Airing of Grievances, he just attacked me.”
“A summit for – wait, attacked in the game, right?”
“Yes, obviously.” Mike rolled his eyes.
“And he hadn’t talked to you about his concern before he attacked you?”
“No!”
Nancy sighed. “Then it sounds like this one’s on him. But!” She held up her finger before Mike could start celebrating. “That doesn’t always matter. Something Barb taught me is that sometimes you have to apologize even if you’re in the right.”
“Huh? Why? Why would I do that?”
“So a few months ago, apparently I kept copying Ally’s outfits and she got really mad about it. I had no idea it was happening, so I certainly didn’t mean to. But even when I explained that, Ally still wouldn’t talk to me. Barb convinced me to apologize.”
“For what?”
“For not noticing when my friend was upset,” Nancy explained. “Friends are supposed to be there for each other, and it’s no fun when you’re upset and your friends don’t notice, right?”
“Yeah,” Mike agreed, looking thoughtful. “Thanks, Nance.”
“Wait,” Nancy called, “Don’t put your nasty chip bag back in the cabinet. Just – just bring it down to the basement or something and I’ll tell Mom we finished it.”
Mike grinned and stuck his hand back in. “Thanks, Nance!”
* * *
Wednesday, April 15, 1981
Dustin and Lucas weren’t even outside when Will got off the bus – it was just Mike, looking more despondent than ever, kicking a pebble around. “Hey,” called Will when he got closer.
“Hey,” replied Mike, looking up and slightly smiling.
“So I –”
“I was –”
They stopped. Mike gestured at Will. “You first.”
“So I was talking to Jonathan last night and he thinks we need to communicate better.”
“Yeah, Nancy said the same thing.” The corner of Mike’s mouth twisted.
“Nancy?”
“Yeah, don’t look so surprised. She’s a booger most of the time, but she has good advice sometimes.”
“Like communication?”
“Yeah. And apologizing even if you’re right, because even if Dustin should have talked to me before attacking, I should have noticed he was upset, because that’s what friends do.”
“Do you really believe that?” Will quirked an eyebrow.
Mike shrugged. “I dunno. If it’ll bring the Party back together, then sure. But how do I talk to him?”
“I mean, we need a Summit for the Airing of Grievances, right?”
“Yeah, but Dustin won’t acknowledge me.”
“Send me as an envoy?”
A slow grin crossed Mike’s face. “Willstopher, you’re a genius.”
Will rolled his eyes. “That’s not my name.”
“You’re right,” Mike agreed. “Will the Wise, will you serve as my envoy to Oisnogtwaerfayn and Sundar the Bold?”
“It would be my honor,” Will nodded solemnly. Mike threw an arm around him and they started walking towards the school.
* * *
Walking the few seats down the lunch table to where Dustin and Lucas sat were some of the most nerve-wracking of Will’s life. They saw him approaching about halfway there and turned to glare at him.
“What do you want?” asked Dustin sullenly.
“Oisnogtwaerfayn and Sundar the Bold,” Will began, faltering under the withering glares focused upon him, “I, Will the Wise, hereby summon you to a Summit for the Airing of Grievances to be held at 4:30 PM today at the castle of Mike the Mighty.”
“Hell no!” retorted Lucas. “If he wants to apologize, he can do it himself.”
“No, wait.” Dustin turned to Lucas. “We can’t just say no. It’s part of the Party Charter, right? Article 3, Section 2?”
Lucas just stared open-mouthed at him.
“Wait, are you claiming you just sign binding legal documents without committing them to memory? Because if so, Lucas, I just –” Dustin pursed his lips and shook his head in obvious disappointment.
Lucas made a point of slowly rolling his eyes.
“Article 3, Section 2,” Dustin began, quoting, “At any time, any Party member may summon all others to a Summit for the Airing of Grievances. All members are obligated to attend, and may postpone the Summit only in the case of pressing prior obligations.”
Lucas looked nonplussed. “But if we’re not playing D&D then…”
“No,” Dustin stated firmly. “We’re maybe fighting right now, but we’re still a Party and the Party Charter still applies. Article 5 states…”
“Yeah, yeah, the only ways out are a two-thirds vote for dissolution or a unanimous vote for expulsion. I’m not a complete idiot, Dustin.”
Dustin smiled appreciatively. “So you’re not as dumb as you look.” Lucas flipped him the bird.
Will coughed lightly, bringing their attention back to him and the mood back down. “What tidings shall I return to Mike the Mighty?”
Dustin and Lucas shared a long glance. “We’ll be there,” Dustin stated with a sense of finality, “But this had better be good.”
* * *
4:30 had been a conscious choice, to give Mike and Will a chance to set up and regroup before the others showed up, but now that it was 4:15 and the basement was cleaned up from their aborted session and they’d rehearsed a few scenarios, Will really wished that it would just be 4:30 already.
At 4:26, they migrated up to the front door. At 4:29, Mike started staring out the window. At 4:30 and seven seconds, Lucas and Dustin appeared walking up the street from Lucas’s house.
Mike made to open the door, but Will blocked him. “Go downstairs,” he hissed. “I’m the envoy, remember?”
Mike made a face, but muttered “fine” and left the room. Will could hear him clomping down the basement stairs as Dustin and Lucas arrived.
“Greetings, fair travellers,” he said, bowing as he opened the door before they could ring the doorbell. “The lady Wheeler does request that you, uh, remove your footwear as per the custom of this kingdom.”
The three of them shared a small smile as Lucas and Dustin kicked off their shoes.
“Follow me,” Will intoned and left before things could get even more awkward, hoping the other two were following him.
The D&D table was still set up, but all of their things had been cleared. Mike sat in his usual seat, looking unusually vulnerable without his DM screen to hide behind. Will pulled out Dustin’s and Lucas’s chairs and waited for them to take a seat before sitting down himself.
“Dustin, please state your grievance,” Will began.
Dustin took a deep breath. “I feel like Mike talks too much during D&D and it makes it not fun to play.” Clearly Dustin and Lucas had been prepping too.
“Mike, do you recognize this as a legitimate grievance?” Will asked solemnly.
Mike nodded without meeting Dustin’s gaze, looking like a little kid again.
“And how do you –”
“I’m sorry!” Mike burst out. “I wish you had told me how you were feeling but I also should have noticed. I’ve been being a bad friend and I’m sorry.”
Well, that was unexpected. Even though they’d talked through it ad nauseum, Mike never voluntarily apologized without further prompting. Will flipped forward a few pages in his mental script. “Dustin, do you accept this apology?”
“How will it be different moving forwards?” asked Lucas, speaking up for the first time. “It’s all well and good to say sorry, but it’s no good if things don’t change. You can’t pull an Erica here, man.”
Mike and Will shared a glance. “I have a plan,” Mike said vaguely. “You’ll see… if D&D is back on for Friday?”
Dustin and Mike stared at each other across the table. All that was left was the handshake, but neither appeared willing to be the one to bridge the gap. At least thirty seconds passed by in silence until Dustin ducked his head. “I’m sorry too,” he murmured. “I should have talked to you instead of attacking you.” He paused, then stuck out his hand. “I drew first blood,” he said. “I need to be the one to fix this.”
Mike stared at Dustin’s hand for a few moments, then suddenly stuck his out to join it. Will thought he saw tears at the corners of his eyes. Handshake complete, Mike abruptly stood up and rushed around the table to hug Dustin. Will and Lucas shared a cautious smile.
“We started looking at the science fair data,” Lucas offered, “If we wanna get working on that as a team?”
“God, yes.” Dustin emerged from the hug smiling. “Let’s get some science up in here!”
* * *
Friday, April 17, 1981
It was relatively easy to defeat the pickpocket. It seemed he was just a simple thief after all, taking advantage of those foolish to wander down a dark alleyway at night.
“It’s not me,” the pickpocket gasped with his dying breath, “There’s a monster, from the hills…” He started to point north, then shuddered and died. Mike acted this all out very convincingly, even seeming to move Dustin and Lucas.
“Hey Mike,” called Will, “Do you want some healing?” They had agreed that Dustin’s attack would go through, so he must be low on hit points.
“Save your strength, Will the Wise,” Mike replied, limping back to his seat, “’Tis but a flesh wound!” That got a chuckle from the others.
“You sure, Mike?” asked Dustin, looking slightly guilty.
Mike flashed him a smile. “I’m sure. I’ll bear it as a reminder.”
Dustin nodded solemnly. “You are noble indeed, paladin.”
“Hey guys,” Lucas interjected, “Maybe we should make ourselves scarce? Getting caught in an alley with a dead man isn’t exactly the best look.”
“Where to then, Brave Sundar?” asked Mike.
“Dead guy said north,” Lucas observed. “I say we go north.” He glanced around.
“Aye,” said Dustin. Will nodded in approval.
“North we go,” confirmed Mike.
“It’s already dark,” Will pointed out. “Should we make camp soon?”
“Aye,” agreed Dustin, “Time to rest these weary bones.”
“Great,” said Mike in his normal voice. “Calculate your rations and healing from a full night’s sleep and Will and I will grab some snacks.”
Mike came around the table and tugged on Will’s sleeve until he got up and followed Mike up the stairs. Something was clearly up.
“Hey, what snacks do you want?” asked Mike, his voice a bit thinner than usual.
“Whatever, Mike,” Will replied gently. “What’s up?”
“What’s – what makes you think something’s up?” Mike blinked rapidly.
“Mike.” Will rolled his eyes.
Mike’s face softened. “Is this the right thing to do? I mean, is it enough? Am I still talking too much? I just want –”
Will punched Mike’s arm. “You’re being a dummy. You can see Lucas and Dustin. They’re smiling and having a good time.”
“But –”
“Yes,” Will replied, holding Mike’s gaze.
“Okay,” Mike agreed reluctantly. “I hope it’s enough.”
Will gave him a quick side hug. “I’ll grab some pop?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
When they got back downstairs, Dustin had updated all their stats, as expected. His eyes widened. “Nacho cheese Doritos? You got the good stuff!”
Lucas made grabby hands. “Make sure the rest of us get some before Dustin eats it all!”
“I brought pop,” Will called, distracting them from the chips.
“So,” Dustin asked once they settled back in, “We awake well-rested in the morning. Is there anywhere in particular we’re heading, or just north?”
Mike shrugged mysteriously.
“What do we see if we look north?” asked Will.
“You see a range of mountains,” offered Mike. “There’s a large cave visible in one of them.”
“Well, that answers that,” observed Lucas. “We pack up camp and head towards the cave.”
“As you travel north, everything seems normal. The journey takes several hours, and it’s approaching noon as you reach the cave. The sun’s beating down and there’s no shade for miles other than the cave."
"Even with the mountain...?" queried Dustin.
“Yes, the sun’s behind you,” Mike clarified.
“…To the south?”
“Slightly? It’s noon and you’re north of the equator, so…”
“Hold on a second.” Dustin stuck his tongue out and moved his hands around for a moment. “Yeah, okay, that checks out. What now?” he asked, glancing around the room.
“I’m pretty hot,” said Lucas, “And –”
“Yeah, we told you not to wear so much armor,” Will muttered.
Lucas glared, then continued. “And we all know why we came here. Let’s do this!”
“To glory,” started Mike.
“To honor,” added Will.
“To riches!” shouted Dustin, entirely too enthusiastically.
“To victory,” Lucas concluded solemnly.
“I light a torch and move forward into the cave,” Mike stated. “The light echoes weirdly off the walls and there’s no sound other than our own footsteps. Suddenly, there’s an echoing roar in front of us.” He demonstrated.
“Roar…” Dustin muttered. “Probably some kind of animal. A roc? A worm? A manticore?”
“Do we continue?” asked Mike, “Or turn back now?”
“We continue!” Lucas looked offended.
“The Party continues moving into the cave, when suddenly from a side passage you hear a screech and the sound of leathery wings. Out comes a scaly, winged beast with a long, sharp tail. It’s a –”
“Wyvern!” Dustin shouted. “Shit, wyverns are nasty.”
“Why?” asked Will.
“They can multiattack,” explained Dustin, “Bite and sting in the same turn.”
“Shit,” agreed Lucas.
“Roll for initiative!” called Mike.
The battle commenced and went on for several rounds. “Guys,” called Dustin, “I’m running low on hit points. I can’t take another hit.”
“Hang in there,” called Will. “It’s limping. I’m all out of healing spells, but we’ve gotta be close!”
“Doesn’t anyone have a healing potion?”
The others all quickly checked their inventories. “No, sorry,” Lucas replied.
Dustin grimaced and bounced his leg nervously.
“Sundar, your action?” called Mike.
“I rush forward and stab its leg with my sword,” Lucas replied, rolling his die. “Fourteen. Is that enough?”
Mike glanced down. “The blow lands. Roll for damage.”
Lucas rolled the d6. “Six! Plus one is seven.”
Mike noted it down behind the screen. “It’s the wyvern’s turn. It screeches in pain at the sword now stuck in its leg and lunges forward to bite Lucas.” Mike rolled. “The attack fails. It lashes its tail forward towards Nog. Mike the Mighty sees what’s happening and rushes in front of him.”
“Mike!” cried Lucas, “No! Stop!” There was genuine fear in his voice.
“Mike hears Sundar calling for him, but it’s too late to stop –”
“Mike!” chorused Will, “You don’t have the hit points!”
“Mike gets there in time,” Mike says neutrally. “He blocks the tail from hitting his friend Nog, but –” he rolls the dice – “he gets stabbed instead.”
“The tail’s poisoned. Oh god, oh god. The tail’s poisoned,” babbled Dustin.
“Will, you gotta –” Lucas started.
“All out of spells,” Will bit back.
“I roll a saving throw,” said Mike softly. They all held their breath as the die came to rest behind the screen. His eyes lit up briefly, then faded. “– And fail.”
The table goes deathly quiet as Mike slowly falls to the ground. “My friends,” he croaks, “My family. The best Party I could ever have.”
Will had known it was coming, but he couldn’t stop the flow of tears. “Mike,” Dustin whispered brokenly. Lucas just looked stunned.
“Nog, your action,” Mike whispered from the floor.
“I take my hammer and throw it at the heart of that son of a bitch!” Dustin roared, rolling the die so hard that it landed on the floor. They all scrambled down to see –
“A twenty!” called Will.
Mike leaped up. “Critical hit! Roll for damage!”
“Five plus three is eight!”
Mike let out a screech of pain. “The wyvern collapses at the mighty blow! It thrashes wildly on the ground, but slowly… loses energy… until –” Mike collapsed – “It dies.”
There was no cheering this time. “So, uh, Mike,” ventured Lucas, “Are you gonna roll up a new character, or – ?”
“No.” Mike sat up and shook his head. “You guys were right. I’ll still DM and – and it’ll be more fun for all of us this way.”
“Mike!” Dustin’s voice cracked. “This isn’t what I –”
“I know.” Mike gave a watery smile. “But this is for the best, I promise.”
Will teared up again. “I’ll handle the funeral,” he sniffed. “We grew up in the same town and – and it needs to be a private affair. We can say our last respects here and then I’ll take him home for the last time.”
“A true hero,” offered Lucas, “Who made the ultimate sacrifice and lay down his life for a friend.”
“A wise and powerful paladin,” added Dustin, “With a strong moral conviction.”
“And the most loyal friend,” finished Will, “I – a Party could ask for.”
There was a moment of silence, then Mike folded up the DM screen. “I think we can figure out treasure and XP next time, okay?” sniffed Mike.
“I –” Dustin seemed about to argue, then deflated. “Yeah, of course, Mike. Group hug?”
Mike nodded and they all gathered around him.
* * *
As they were brushing their teeth that night, Mike glanced consideringly at Will. “Aimdthsvingthro,” he said.
“What?” replied Will.
Mike spit. “I made the saving throw,” he repeated.
“Wait, but then - Why –”
“I did what Dustin needed. I did what we – the Party needed. It was the only way. But –” he dropped into his narrator voice – “As Will the Wise approaches his childhood village, he’s startled by a sudden motion from the man in his arms.”
“What –” Will breathed.
“I open my eyes,” Mike whispered, “To find my oldest friend carrying me.”
“Mike!” Will almost shouted and started pummeling him in the side, “You can’t just do that to me!”
Mike winced. “Will, whoa! Still low on hit points here!”
Will flushed and stopped, standing there awkwardly.
“It turns out that Mike the Mighty was just playing dead with the aid of a sleeping potion,” he whispered, staring into the mirror. “He hops down from Will’s arm and turns and –” he wrapped his arms around Will, and Will fell into his embrace.
“So what happens now?” Will whispered into his chest.
“I think Mike the Mighty deserves a quiet retirement,” Mike mumbled into his hair. “Maybe take up farming or blacksmithing. It’s such a quiet little village. Maybe Will the Wise could visit in between his daring adventures?”
Will grinned. “Always.”