Chapter Text
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ANYONE
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Will
One thing Will Byers did not know how to do, despite him having the most experience in the subject out of everyone he knew, was processing things.
Things just... kept happening to him. Each one seemed to top the last, slamming into him before the last one could even settle, dragging his focus away until he forgot what peace was supposed to feel like. Nothing ever simply settled with him. Like he was permanently stuck being on edge and reeling from every past blow. He supposed that’s what 3 years of unbroken trauma did to a person.
It seriously perplexed his mind watching everyone around him already feeling better. They laughed again, made plans again, lived again. Like it was an achievable thing. Like healing was just something you did. At times, it felt like he was the only one who was still... sad and haunted.
Obviously, that wasn’t true, and maybe not fair to assume. They were still grieving their friend Eddie and were of course still worried about Max, despite her countless claims of being ‘perfectly fine.’
But still. They were all finding ways to enjoy their extended break. Will hadn't yet, not really. Maybe if his thoughts would leave him the fuck alone, he could.
"Gotchya, Byers!”
A sudden splash of freezing quarry water smacked him in the face before he could even blink.
“AHH—Dustin!” he sputtered, laughing through the sting. He flung a handful of water back in retaliation, but his aim was useless as Dustin had already dived under, his curly mop vanishing into the dark, rippling green.
And then BAM! He was again attacked from the back, causing him to turn around sharply. “DUSTIN!!” Will giggled as his friend was now continuously pushing water in his direction. “Alright, alright! Stop, I’m serious!”
“Okay, okay.” Dustin grinned, droplets glimmering on his face. For a moment they just floated there, the laughter fading into something softer. “It’s just— it’s nice to see you happy and laughing, is all. I missed it.”
“Awh that’s— that’s nice of you Dustin.” Will’s smile had a hint of sadness. “I missed it too.”
Dustin nodded, his hair still curly and full of life even with it soaked. “Anytime. And hey, now that you’re officially moving back, hopefully I’ll get to see it more, yeah?”
Will nodded. “Yeah, definitely.”
“Yay! Now come on, you shouldn’t be over here by yourself. Lucas just got in now that Max went home.”
“Is she feeling alright?”
“Oh yeah no, she’s fine, don’t worry. I think she just got bored. I mean, I would too. It can’t be that enjoyable to watch everyone else swim and have fun when you’re stuck in a wheelchair with 3 broken limbs.”
Will nodded as they swam toward Lucas. “Yeah, that makes sense.” He couldn’t stop the wave of empathy that hit him. He knew that feeling too well. Being stuck inside, constantly in and out of hospitals. Watching the world (and sometimes your friends) continue on without you.
“Hey Will!”
“Lucas!” Will smiled. He was gonna ask him about Max but was cut off before he could even speak—
“—RACE YOU GUYS TO THE OTHER SIDE, GO!” Lucas shouted, already taking off before Will and Dustin even processed it.
“CHEATER!” Dustin bellowed, but they both took off anyway, laughing and yelling insults as they kicked through the water. Lucas, of course, won by a mile.
Afterward, the three of them drifted together near the shallows, breathless and glowing. He couldn't lie that it felt good. The sun warm on their faces, the air echoing with laughter as they still had so much to catch up on. Will was brimming the entire time as nostalgia coursed through his veins. He was engulfed in every single one of their fun stories and was excited throughout sharing his. Never was there a dull moment.
With all that time in California, he almost lost sight of how special this was. Why he'd missed Hawkins so much despite it being such a terrifying place. This is what he’d been missing.
But it still wasn’t whole. The original party was four, not three.
When the moment was right, Will directed his gaze towards the other side of the Quarry. Unsurprisingly, Mike and El were still talking by their towels, El’s head rested upon his chest. No surprises there.
Then Mike’s eyes met his.
Will froze and stared back despite his instincts telling him not to.
There was so much packed into that look, so much being said between them. Apologies, confusion, longing, guilt. Maybe all of it. Maybe none of it. Will felt like he understood everything yet nothing at all.
Come on, Will tried to say with his eyes. Join us. Please. Your friends.
But Mike only squinted back, his face folding into a small, helpless sorry.
Will’s chest tightened. He swam a little farther out, away from the others, trying to clear his head. Things were just so….emotional with them now. It was getting hard to ignore, though they’d been trying.
He wanted to talk to Mike. God, more than anything. But every time he imagined it, he froze. What was he supposed to say? Hey, remember when you forgot my birthday and kinda dismissed all my feelings? You kinda shattered my heart with that, don't know if you were aware.
So many of Mike’s actions recently, to put it bluntly, broke him. The hugs that never came. The way Mike’s focus tunneled entirely on El. The way they'd fought, even though they made up. Everything with the painting he still couldn’t admit was from him and not his sister.
The truth that Mike would never look at him the way he wanted.
It was incredibly unfair for him to be mad at Mike for that last one. Will knew that. That wasn’t Mike’s fault. It wasn't his fault that he was simply living his normal straight boy life with a perfect girlfriend who made him happy. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.
And god, how could he forget? His speech to El.
Will could still hear it, word for word. Mike telling El she was the reason his life began. And Will, who’d been there for all the years before, felt his entire world crumble away in seconds. How do you recover from hearing that the best years of your life didn’t matter to the person who made them great in the first place?
He certainly wasn’t going to recover any time soon.
“Alright,” he said softly, breaking his stare and turning back to Lucas and Dustin. “I think I’m gonna head out. Jonathan’s probably making dinner, and I still have a lot of unpacking to do."
His friends looked at each other before nodding. Will could tell they knew something was up, but he couldn't bring himself to feel bothered by it.
“But this was really fun, seriously." Will assured. "I missed talking with you guys like this.”
Lucas brought him in for an awkward water hug “we did too. So much.”
“So, so much,” Dustin echoed. “You’re like…the heart of the group, Will. It hasn’t been the same without you.”
Will’s breath caught. The heart.
The same thing he’d both said and painted about Mike. The real heart.
No way they thought the heart was Will. The depressed, quiet, shy introvert? Surely not, right?
“Call us tomorrow and we’ll plan to hang out like this again.” Lucas smiled.
Will nodded. “I’d like that. I will.”
They waved goodbye one last time as he made his way back. The closer the shore approached, the tighter the air seemed to get. Mike and El both looked up as he walked up, the air between them impossibly thick and uncomfortable with something unsaid. This was just how it was now.
Will bent to grab his towel, heart hammering. Mike was looking at him again, that look. The one that made his brain spiral.
He couldn’t tell if it was anger or depression or confusion or despair or none of those or all of them at the same time.
Even El was now looking at him weirdly. And Will hated it so much. He wanted to scream. Things should never be like this between them. They were Mike and Will, best friends for eternity. Will and El, wonder twins. This wasn’t them.
He zipped his bag, trying not to look, when Mike stood up. Will looked into his stupid fucking perfect eyes, waiting for him to say something. He could tell his thoughts were moving, even if his mouth wasn’t.
Will couldn't believe this was the same boy who used to tell him everything, the same boy he used to tell everything to. At this point he didn't even care about Mike liking him back, that was pretty much out the window anyway and he would get over it. But the thought of them never getting back to their old friendship? That he couldn't handle.
After what felt like hours of silence, Will gave up and headed to leave.
“Wait”, Mike’s voice snapped out. Will sighed, turned reluctantly.
“Will, could you just— could you please tell us what’s going on?”
Will furrowed his brows, confused and caught off guard. “Us? What do you mean?”
Had he and El been talking about him?
Mike’s tone sharpened. “What do you mean 'what do I mean', you’ve been nothing but gloomy ever since you got back. Why?”
Will just stared at him. He did not want to have this conversation again, especially not after a fun day. A fun day in which he wasn’t gloomy like Mike had falsely claimed.
“I mean I just don’t get it. Everything’s okay now! Vecna’s dead and Hawkins is recovering well and we still have 2 weeks of extended break!”
“Sorry.” His voice was barely audible, deep and hushed as it always was whenever he felt small.
“You don’t have to apologize, it's just—" Mike ran a hand through his hair. "I don’t know, you and El just got back from getting all your stuff from Cali, and we’ve all been trying to have fun and celebrate and move on, but then you just… you just…"
“…ruin it?” Will scoffed so quietly that it almost went unnoticed.
“What? No! Will, that’s not what I was going to say—“
“It’s fine, Mike. Look, I know I’m not the most fun person to be around right now, but—“
Mike was now giving him the look again.
“—but maybe you should’ve thought about that before you—“ his throat locked “you—“
“What?” Mike pleaded for him to finish.
He couldn’t, he wasn’t ready for it yet, he needed to fully process.
“Nevermind”.
Will turned and stormed up the path toward his bike, a single tear slipping free as he wiped it away, furious at himself for showing it.
“What, WHAT? BEFORE I WHAT, WILL? COME BACK!” Mike called out but soon stopped as Will faintly heard El talking him out of it.
She's always understood him, how he gets when he’s like this. It’s nice to know she still does.
By the time Will reached his bike, he was shaking. He got the hell out of there, channeling his internal mess into every push of the pedals. He didn’t even care that he dropped it against the garage when he got home.
At least he tried to have fun. And he did, for a little while anyway. But even with Lucas and Dustin's lovely prescence lingering in his mind, the weight of Mike's harrowing impact was stronger.
He didn’t bother putting his bike in the garage, letting it hit the ground and the door slam behind him. Inside, Jonathan called from the kitchen, “Hey guys, just grilled cheese tonight— hope that’s okay!”
“It’s just me” Will spoke softly. “And yeah, of course it is. Don’t worry.” He was glad his brother was finally getting back to normal, smoking less and taking some responsibility for himself.
Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows “I thought Mike and El were coming, did they go to his?”
“They’re still at the quarry. But yeah, they’ll probably end up going there.”
“Oh. Okay.” Jonathan gave him that look. The soft, knowing one that Will couldn't decide whether he loved or hated. Part of it felt like genuine care, but the other part just felt like pity. And Will hated pity.
Will got himself a glass of water and took a seat at the table, already knowing Jonathan wasn’t going to leave it at that.
“Is there…a reason you’re not with them still?”
Will shrugged, “I just left early, I guess.” It’s an absolute shit lie. He does not have the energy to do better.
“Did something happen?”
Will shook his head, staring at the table to avoid his brother’s eyes “I just got tired, that’s all.”
He could feel Jonathan’s gaze piercing through him, and he didn’t have to look up to know that the exact expression was still painted across his face.
Jonathan slid a plate toward him. “Alright. But if you change your mind, I can drive you back.”
Will nodded, barely tasting the food. “Thanks.”
Since their return there had been so many things with Mike, things that consumed Will’s entire being with how impossible they were to navigate. He could tell Jonathan noticed every single one. Will dismissed him every single time.
He knew it was selfish, especially after their talk back at Surfer Boys. Jonathan only wanted to help, and it was clearly hurting him too to see how much he struggled. To know that Will was still lying to him.
Yet still, he tried. He tried to help in other ways— taking Will out to do fun things just the two of them, buying him new music in the form of cassettes and records, staying up late with him in his room whenever El had Mike spend the night.
It made Will ache with impossible guilt.
As he later lay in bed thinking about everything, sleep failing to reach him, he reached for his Walkman and one of his new cassettes from Jonathan. He had yet to listen to it. It appeared to be only one song.
“Anyone Who Knows What Love Is (Will Understand) ♡ ~ Irma Thomas” Will read the label in Jonathan’s handwriting, scoffing a little. He even drew a little heart at the end.
Will was quite literally the last person to know what love is, and Jonathan of all people should know that. Maybe he wasn’t as aware as he thought him to be.
Will took out Boys Don’t Cry, which had of course been on heavy rotation, and set it aside, inserting the new song in. Once his headphones were on properly he wasted no time and pressed play. Then the magic began.
His ears were instantly blessed by an enchanting, almost nostalgic-sounding series of notes on a xylophone.
"Anyone" echoed distantly in the background several times by soothing voices in harmony as the pretty notes continued with added drums, softly keeping the tempo.
"You can blame me"
Her voice now sang in clarity. She had just about the prettiest voice Will had ever heard.
"Try to shame me"
This was so different, and so much older-sounding than everything else Jonathan had shown him. He loved it.
"And still I’ll care for you"
Will felt his heart stop. He stared endlessly at the ceiling but was seeing other things. His life, his memories. Almost exclusively with Mike.
"You can run around"
"Even put me down"
"Still I’ll be there for you"
Will remembered their fights, how abundantly clear Mike had expressed that he didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. How he couldn’t accept that fact, and still did everything in his power to keep Mike in his life. To make sure he was happy. Even if that meant getting him closer to El.
"The world"
"May think I’m foolish"
Will could now feel himself getting emotional. He's not entirely sure why, there was just something so intimate, so hauntingly personal about this song.
"They can’t see you"
"Like I can"
"Oh, but anyone"
"Who knows what love is"
"Will understand."
Tears were now streaming down his face as Will put his hand over his mouth to contain himself as the angelic “anyone’s” continued in the background. It wasn’t even that sad or anything, there was just something about it. It was unlike any song Will had ever heard, it seriously felt like she was singing straight to him and him alone. Like it was his song, every word written with him in mind..
"I just feel so sorry"
"For the ones who pity me"
"'cause they just don’t know"
"Oh they don’t know what happiness and love can be"
Will thinks of his friends, his mom, and his siblings. The people who care about him. The people he’s left in the dark.
"I know"
"I know to ever let you go"
"Oh, is more"
"Then I could ever stand"
Back to Mike. Mike fucking Wheeler. He thinks of the day they officially moved and said their final goodbyes. When he had to let him go.
"Oh, but anyone"
"Who knows what love is"
"Will understand"
He let it play again. And again. And again. Until his pillow was damp and the memories softened into something gentler. Something that finally let him fall asleep.
When morning came, the tape was still turning.
Will let it play as he poured cereal, realizing just how late he'd slept in. The house was quiet around him, everyone else absent. El with Mike, Jonathan at his interview, Joyce and Hopper at work.
So it was just him. And Irma Thomas.
Will had never been so affected by music, and that was saying something. He’d related to so many other songs before, but this was special. This one he was feeling.
He could’ve called Lucas and Dustin to do something, but instead called them to say he was busy. Because today, he was going to paint. About Mike.
Everything in his brain was telling him not to, to paint about literally anyone else, but his heart’s desires were too strong.
Before starting though, he took a brief moment to pause the song and transfer it from his Walkman to his stereo. And Woah. It was like hearing it for the first time with how much better the sound quality was. It sent him ascending above earth.
He kicked himself a little, for doubting Jonathan’s observation skills earlier. He may as well know Will better than he does himself by giving him this song. Will seriously loved it so much that decided, when he got home, he was going to talk to him. Like for real talk to him. All because of this masterpiece.
After some careful thinking through all the moments he’d revisited with the comfort of the angelic flowing through his ears, he ultimately decided on his favorite memory of all time: Mike asking him to be his friend on the swings.
Now the memory wasn't as perfect, almost saddening. It was no longer the best thing Mike’s ever done. It was still easily the best thing Will’s ever had happen to him.
It hurt. Bad. And Will needed to paint it out of him.
Strictly cool tones were used as he shaped the background of the familiar but distant playground at their old elementary school, making the memory seem dead rather than alive. He vividly remembers the trees starting to lose their leaves, watching other kids in his class making piles of them together to jump into as he swung alone.
But before he could start on the leaves or the swings or their figures, his door was suddenly thrown open as his name was yelled “Will!” by a voice he would recognize even if he went deaf, jolting him to immediately turn the painting away so that it faced the corner.
“Mike?”