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Regret was not a new feeling for the people in Mike Wheeler's life. In fact, it was quite a common experience.
Lucas regretted Max.
Not Max—rather, involving Max in their little fucked up world. Honestly, what was he thinking?
He will never get over the feeling of regret, no matter how many times Max had said she didn't blame him. How could he not feel like it was his fault the love of his life almost just died when he was the one who introduced her to all this bullshit?
Dustin regretted leaving Will alone with the two other insufferable party members during the summer of 85'.
He knew it wasn't his fault, per say, but he knows he sure as hell could've helped Will out a bit and stuck around.
He knew Will wasn't upset with him and that Will was just happy that Dustin wasn't the one having to deal with Lucas and Mike constantly obsessing over their girlfriends—but still, he couldn't shake the feeling of guilt he got whenever Will would mention their antics to him.
Will regretted falling in love with his best friend; honestly, who wouldn't, when that best friend is straight—and dating his sister?
Will hated it; hated how strongly he loved, and how strongly he desired just a little bit more attention from his friend.
Nancy, however, may have had the biggest regret: not being there enough for her brother, because boy did Mike have a ton of regrets of his own.
The day she walked into his room to tell him dinner was ready and Mom had been calling him for minutes and he needed to get his ass the hell down the stairs–and oh God, is he crying? Holy shit, he's sobbing, and Nancy is frozen.
He tries to pretend he wasn't, he really does, but Nancy could see right through him and oh God, how has she not noticed how little he talks to her about his issues before?
"Nancy? Mike?" Karen calls up the stairs.
"Hold on, Mom," Nancy shouts back, "we'll be down in two minutes!"
Nancy steps into Mike's room and gently closes the door. She hesitates before walking over and plopping down next to her brother, her brother who she hasn't seen cry like this since he was twelve and thought he lost his best friend.
"...Mike?" she asks softly, "What's going on?"
She doesn't expect him to open up so swiftly, and she knows that he missed his girlfriend and best friend, so she expected it to be related to that—but suddenly, his mouth is moving a mile a minute, and he's saying, "I miss Will so much. And El! But mostly Will, and I know i'm supposed to love El because she's my girlfriend, and I do love her, but I cant even write it, I can't even write 'Love, Mike,' but I can say it to Will over and over again and I think I miss him in the way I'm supposed to miss El and love him in the way I should love El and I feel so broken because—oh, God, I didn't mean to say that—"
"Mike—"
"I really didn't, Nancy please don't hate me—"
"Mike."
"I—I'm sorry, Nance, I—"
"Mike!" she grabs his wrists, stopping them from flailing.
He freezes, eyes widened and frozen in fear and oh God, does he really think she could hate him for something like this?
"Mike," she repeats softly, "you're my brother. I could never hate you, no matter how much I tease you. I love you, and I know we never say it in this house, but you are everything to me and I could never hate you over something as small as this."
A hiccup, silence, and then a quiet, "You mean it?"
And God, Nancy has never felt so guilty in her life.
"Of course I mean it, Mike," and then they're hugging, and Nancy really, really regrets not being there for her brother more.
Six days later, and holy shit Mike is floating in the air, and Nancy can't move, and Will is screaming, and El is in a mental battle with Vecna—no, One—no, Henry? Whatever the hell they're referring to this evil son of a bitch as now. That one stupid ABBA song that has always been Mike's favorite is playing through Argyle's shitty van speakers, which is really not helping her anxiety, and Nancy is so fucking terrified because what the fuck, her brother is about to die; and then it's all over, and her brother is falling down, and he is safe, and Nancy is so, so close to having a heart attack.
He lands in Will and Nancy's arms, and then Nancy is telling the rest of the party to leave them the hell alone.
A peaceful, albeit tear-filled, silence takes over once everyone has left the room.
Mike's head is in Will's lap and his torso in Nancy's, and he is shaking, and Will is running his hands through his hair, and Nancy feels guilty.
Guilty, because after a beat, two beats, three beats, "Mike, oh my god, I thought I lost you, holy shit, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, we didn't think it would happen to you," guilty, because it's not coming from her.
It's coming from Will, and Nancy still is not making herself known to Mike.
So, she does the only reasonable thing one would do when their brother has a near-death experience in front of them; she pulls him up into a hug, squeezing him tight enough that he should probably be in pain, but that is the least of both of their worries right now.
Nancy cries into his shoulder, "Jesus, dumbass, I thought you were gone."
Mike chuckles, and it sounds strained, but he says "I'm okay, I promise, we're all okay. I love you—both of you—so much," and he's crying again.
Nancy glances up and sees Will sitting there, staring at them with a mixture of emotions in his eyes; one, she notes, is relief, another, fear, and a third that she can't quite recognize.
She sends him a small smile and says, "Get over here, you idiot, you're a part of this too," and instantly Will's arms are reaching around the two, one hand on Mike's back, and the other on Nancy's.
As they sit together, setting the record for the longest Nancy and Mike have ever hugged for (the previous being when Will was officially proclaimed "dead" to the public), and Will starts to whisper affirmations into Mike's ear, Nancy comes to a realization.
The emotion in Will's eyes was the exact same emotion that takes over Mike's eyes whenever he speaks of Will.
Nancy pulls away from the hug and moves to stand up.
Once she's standing, she is met with two questioning eyes of two fifteen year olds—holy crap, they're still just kids.
"I'll leave you two a minute to talk," she just about whispers, and with a giggle adds, "without any older sisters hanging on your shoulder."
She ruffles their hair before walking out of the room to let the party and older teens know that the two are okay, they just need a minute, and that they needed to start planning a defeat plan and quick.
And when her brother and his best friend walk out of the room nearly ten minutes later with flushed cheeks and soft smiles, standing a little closer together than before, Nancy knows that even if she wasn't there for her little shit of a brother at times, there would always be someone who would be.