Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter One

The Freak

July 4, 1985

In the blink of an eye, everything changes.

In just one week, Mike Wheeler goes from visiting his girlfriend on a daily basis and getting to spend hours and hours with her to packing up moving boxes and helping her flee their town. He goes from sneaking into movies with his best friends on a weekly basis to watching his best friend pack up their entire childhood into boxes for donation, for keeping, and for trashing. And he goes from having the best summer of his whole life to dealing with the aftermath of one of Hawkins’ darkest weeks. 

Everything changes far, far too quickly.

Somehow, they make it out of the Battle of Starcourt alive. Their only casualty is Billy, and while Mike is beyond grateful that Billy gave his life to save El, he can’t really say that he’s sad Billy died. (Though, he would never say this to Max.) Everyone in the Griswold family team and the Scoops Troop team survives the battle.

Then, the military shows up, and there, front and center, is Dr. Owens.

All of them are ushered out of the mall and to ambulances to take care of their various injuries. Mike sticks close to Nancy in the fray, finding comfort in his older sister’s presence. He’s exhausted beyond belief, and all he wants is to be able to go home. Oh, and he also wants the fucking Upside Down to leave them all the hell alone. 

Everything inside Mike knows that they’ve just bought themselves more time. Isn’t that how it always goes? They manage to scrape by, just barely surviving, and then something happens. Something always happens. And Mike is sick and tired of it. All he wants is for the universe to give them all a break.

Of course, the exact opposite actually happens because Joyce and Murray climb back out of the Russian hellhole… without Hopper. The gate is closed, and the American soldiers have taken charge of containing the Russian base. But Hopper is dead, and it feels like the biggest blow of them all. 

Mike watches as El all but collapses into Joyce’s arms, and the two of them sink to the ground of the mall parking lot, unable to do anything but cry. He wants to go to her… He probably should go to her. But then again, something tells Mike that the love El needs right now is not from him. No, right now, she needs the love of a parent, and who better to give that love than Joyce Byers?

The rest of the week is a blur after that night. The military makes up some bullshit story about a mall fire and how Hopper heroically saved dozens of lives that night. The people of Hawkins, as usual, eat it up. Mike wishes he could do the same. At this point, he thinks ignorance might actually be bliss. He wishes he could believe all the lies. He wishes none of them were mixed up in all of this, but they are. And it’s too late to change that now. These are the cards they’ve been dealt, and all they can do is try to make the most of it. 

All Mike can do is try to make the most of it.

It works… until it doesn’t.

It works up until the phone rings, and Mike answers it, immediately hearing the all too familiar sound of his best friend crying. As if to add insult to injury, Will drops the worst bombshell of them all: he and his entire family (including El, whom Joyce has taken in) will be moving out of Hawkins within a week.

Mike will be losing Will and El in less than a week, and he feels like the rug has been pulled out from underneath him.

At Owens’ insistence, Joyce agrees to move out of Hawkins. It’s for the best and for everyone’s safety. The military knows too much about El and about Joyce’s involvement with stopping the Russians. There’s a big red target on the Byers’ backs, and they need to relocate. Owens has already set up everything for them; all they have to do is pack their things and leave.

So, that’s exactly what they do. 

It’s the fastest turnaround Mike has ever seen, and everything changes faster than Mike can even keep up with. Seven days is not nearly long enough to say goodbye, especially since Owens has encouraged the Byers to wait approximately a year to a year and a half before contacting anyone from Hawkins. Mike will have no way to communicate with El or with Will for nearly two years . 

He’s about to lose two of the most important people in his life, and Mike is devastated.

In the blink of an eye, a week passes, and the party gathers together one last time to see El and Will off. Tears are shed, and hugs are given. Then, it’s time for them to go, and Mike watches as El climbs into the UHaul with Joyce and Will climbs into the car with Jonathan. Both vehicles pull out of the Byers’ familiar old driveway, leaving Mike and the others still standing there and watching them.

A piece of his heart leaves Hawkins that day, and when Mike gets home that afternoon, all he can do is cry.

Life goes on after Will and El leave.

It’s… weird. Both Will and El have taken up so much time and so much space in Mike’s life that not having them around is just different. Quite honestly, Mike isn’t really sure what to do with himself, and he finds himself thinking about one or both of them practically every waking moment of the day. 

It’s not fair that he has to be separated from El and from Will again. None of this is fair. Not Hopper’s death. Not the Upside Down’s attacks. Not the Byers’ move. Not Owens’ stupid no contact rule. None of this is fair, and Mike is angry—so, so angry that he’s not sure whether he wants to scream or cry or do both.

The rest of the summer goes on at a painfully slow pace—so slow that Mike is actually a little relieved when school starts again. He and all the other members of the party are in high school now, which is terrifying and intimidating. Middle school was bad enough, but based on what Mike knows about high school, he gets the feeling that it’s even worse.

And yeah, the first week of school basically proves that. The schoolwork is shit, of course, and the kids at school are fucking assholes. Mike has been bullied his entire life, so it’s nothing new, but being shoved into lockers or having slurs thrown at him still is never fun. The four of them try their best to stick together, but it just doesn’t feel the same. Nothing feels the same anymore, not without Will and El around. 

Mike doesn’t feel the same anymore.

For a while, he just goes through the motions. He goes to school, talks to his friends when he needs to, and does what he can to just survive. It feels a lot like the year El had disappeared after fighting the Demogorgon, but this time, Mike doesn’t even have Will to rely on. It’s nothing against Max, Dustin, and Lucas, but Hawkins just… isn’t the same. Nothing’s the same anymore, and Mike just hates all of it. He hates high school, hates change, hates life right now. All of it is a load of bullshit.

It’s in the middle of October when things start to change… for the better.

“Well, well, well.” Mike glances up as an unfamiliar, older boy slides into the seat across from him. “What do we have here?”

Both Dustin and Lucas look at Mike, as if to ask, Do you know this guy?, and Mike just shrugs. The guy seems familiar, so he’s sure he’s seen him around before. But as for his name or why he might want to talk to the three of them? Mike has no clue.

“Um… hi?” Mike says lamely, giving him a confused look. “Do we know you?”

The curly-haired teenager just grins, leaning forward and putting his head on his hand. “The name’s Eddie Munson,” he introduces. “And you are Lucas Sinclair, Dustin Henderson, and Mike Wheeler, yeah?”

Dustin blinks, a confused look on his face. “Um… how do you know us?”

“I have my ways,” Eddie says offhandedly. “Doesn’t matter. I just like making a point of getting to know other freaks like me.”

Mike’s face turns warm, and he opens his mouth to say something in their defense. Lucas, however, beats them to it. “We-we’re not freaks,” he reassures, even though that’s definitely a lie. 

“Right, right.” Eddie nods. “That explains why you’re sitting here alone with no other friends, right?”

Half of Mike wants to reach across the table and deck this guy in the face, but he’s never been much of a fighter. He imagines this Eddie guy would kick his ass, and then he’d never hear the end of it from Dustin. “Alright, so we’re freaks,” Mike says, glaring back at the older teenager. “Why the hell do you care?”

“Ooh, Wheeler’s got a bit of an attitude!” Eddie laughs, a bright grin on his face. “I like it. I do. It doesn’t go very well with the Gap clothes, but you’ve got potential, Wheeler. You all do.”

“Potential?” Dustin echoes, and he exchanges a confused look with Lucas and Mike.

“Potential,” Eddie confirms. “You see, I’m in charge of a little thing we like to call Hellfire Club.”

Hellfire Club,” Lucas says skeptically. “What… what is that?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “I was getting there, Sinclair,” he scolds. “Hellfire’s a D&D club. There’s only a few of us in it—see, all of them sitting over there? We meet once a week on Fridays, right after school. And you boys seem like you’d be a good fit for the club. So, what do you say? You in?”

Eddie gives all of them an expectant look, and Mike blinks, staring back at the older teen. This is the first time since all of them started high school that anyone (besides Robin and Nancy) outside of the party has been relatively nice to them. And sure, Eddie may seem a bit… eccentric, but Mike has a good feeling about him. Plus, D&D? Yeah, sign them up.

“We’ll be there,” Mike blurts out before Dustin and Lucas can say anything else. When Eddie turns to him, a satisfied look on his face, Mike just grins. “We’ll be there.”

A slow smile spreads across Eddie’s face, and he stands up, looking the three of them over intently. “4 PM, Friday afternoon. The theater over on the north end of the building,” Eddie says. “Don’t be late.”

And with that, Eddie turns and walks away, leaving Dustin, Lucas, and Mike alone once more.

“Um… what the hell just happened?” Lucas asks, and both he and Dustin turn to Mike with wide eyes.

Mike glances in the direction of Eddie’s group—the Hellfire Club—and shrugs slightly. “I… think we just made our first new friend.”

Eddie Munson is the coolest fucking person ever, and Mike absolutely adores him.

Growing up, Mike has always, always wanted an older brother. It’s nothing against Nancy, of course, but having an older sister just isn’t the same as having an older brother. On more than one occasion, Mike has even admitted to Will how jealous he was of the other boy’s relationship with his older brother. 

Now that they’re both older and have lived through a bunch of traumatic shit together, things are better now with Nancy. They still bitch at each other and have petty fights, but Nancy’s cool. She’s a badass protector now, and she is actually someone Mike feels like he can go to with the really difficult shit in life. But she’s still Nancy—still an older sister—and not quite what Mike needs in life.

Eddie, however?

Eddie’s the coolest fucking person ever.

For starters, he’s the Hellfire Club’s Dungeon Master, and holy shit, he’s far better than Mike could even dream about. In every carefully thought out campaign, Mike finds himself hanging onto Eddie’s every word and soaking up all he can from the older teen. Maybe once the party is all back together again, Mike can take some of what he’s learned from Eddie and use it in his own campaigns. He still has so much to learn, and Eddie’s more than happy to teach him.

More than that though, Eddie is just… so unapologetically himself. No matter how many people sneer at him and throw out insults when Eddie passes by in the hallway, Eddie remains true to himself—his eccentric, sarcastic, and nonconforming self. It’s like he has absolutely no filter and more confidence and charisma than anyone else Mike has met in his entire life. And yet at the same time, Eddie is actually very kind and compassionate, and he just has a way of making everyone in Hellfire feel at home.

Mike adores Eddie Munson. Mike wants to be Eddie Munson.

Lucas and Dustin both give him shit about it (as if Dustin doesn’t also try to emulate everything that his older brother figure does), and they’ve even gone as far as to give Mike the nickname “Mini Munson.” The other members of Hellfire, including Eddie, find it fucking hilarious. And sure, it bothers Mike a little bit at first, but when Eddie begins to subtly help Mike out by offering Mike clothes he’s grown out of (and rescuing Mike from his “mommy’s clothes from the goddamn Gap”) or helping Mike learn how to play that old dusty guitar in his closet, Mike begins to embrace the nickname with pride. 

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Jeff calls as their fearless leader walks into the room, nearly twenty minutes late. 

Eddie merely flips him the bird, and Gareth just snickers, kicking his feet up on the table. “Probably making out with that Aaron prick again,” he says with a smirk. “Or are you back to sleeping with that Dana girl?”

Oh yeah. That’s another thing about Eddie—he’s openly bisexual and damn proud of it. It’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but Eddie’s the first gay person that Mike has ever met. He’s grown up hearing his dad complaining on an almost consistent basis about how “those people are ruining America” and how being gay was simply wrong. Beyond that, Mike has witnessed Will experience more than his fair share of bullying and slurs centered around his sexuality. 

Meeting Eddie provides an entirely new perspective, and the more and more Mike gets to know him, the more he realizes how wrong society is. Society just wants them to conform. To fit some stupid mold made up by the people in power, who don’t give a damn about anyone but themselves. Society teaches that people like Eddie and Mike and everyone else in Hellfire are wrong, for a variety of different reasons when in reality, there’s nothing wrong with any of them.

It’s forced conformity, as Eddie always says. That is what’s killing the kids. Being forced to act like someone they’re not and change to fit society’s expectations? It’s all a bunch of bullshit.

And so, more and more as he grows closer to Eddie and the other members of the Hellfire Club, Mike… begins to feel alright again. There’s still a hole in his heart put there by both El and Will’s absence, but meeting new people helps. Being part of a community again helps. It helps distract Mike, so he’s not constantly thinking about missing his friends. 

Slowly but surely, things do get better, even when Max breaks up with Lucas and practically shuts Dustin and Mike out of her life. And yeah, it does suck when Lucas joins the basketball team and begins to drift away from them, but at the very least, Mike still has Dustin and Eddie and all the other members of the Hellfire Club. 

Life isn’t perfect, but it’s okay. And Mike is just doing his best to survive.

Then, finally, in October of 1986, Owens’ no contact rule is lifted, and Mike gets his first letter from El and Will.

“Oh, hi, sweetie,” his mom greets as Mike walks into the kitchen after school. Mike just waves in response, and he opens the fridge, looking inside for a snack. “There’s a letter for you over on the counter from Will!”

Mike slams the fridge door shut, and he looks up, staring at his mom with wide eyes. “Will sent me a letter?” 

“Mhm.” His mom nods, grabbing a little blue envelope from the encounter and handing it to him. “You haven’t heard from him in a while, haven’t you?”

“Uh huh,” Mike responds absently, staring down at the envelope in shock. Sure enough, Mike’s name and address are carefully written on the front of the envelope, along with Will’s own return address: 4819 Lonzo Way, Lenora Hills, California 93249. 

California. Holy shit, Owens sent the Byers and El to California.

“Michael, do you mind peeling the potatoes for dinner?” His mom’s voice snaps Mike out of his shock, and Mike winces. 

“In a minute,” he promises. “I, um… I’m going to go read this and respond back; I’ll be right back up!”

Without giving his mom a chance to respond, Mike runs downstairs to his basement and sits on the couch. His hands are shaking as he tears open the envelope, and his heart is pounding inside his chest. 

God, why is he so nervous about this? It’s just Will. Even though the two of them haven’t spoken in over a year, it’s still Will, his best friend of ten years now. Mike has no reason to be nervous. If anything, he’s sure that Will is going to be the exact same Will he knows and loves, and now that the no contact rule has been broken, Mike can go back to sending letters and calling Will (and El) whenever he’s able to.

Things are finally starting to go back to normal, and Mike has never been more glad.

Mike takes a deep breath, and he pulls Will’s letter out of the envelope, carefully unfolding it. The letter is long—filling up nearly both sides of the rainbow patterned stationery—and sure enough, Will’s neat penmanship is marked all across the entirety of the letter. Mike can’t help but smile to himself, and he turns the letter over, his heart doing backflips in anticipation.

Dear Mike,

Today is Day 463, but I imagine it will probably be closer to Day 469 or 470 when you receive this letter. Will and I have not had much luck with the postal service recently, but we hope this letter reaches you! 

It is so good to get to talk to you again. We have both missed you so much, and the past year has been different without you. Our family has settled into our new home in Lenora Hills, California, and we are all doing well. Lenora is so different from Hawkins. It’s warmer here, and it doesn’t snow. The leaves do not really change colors, and we don’t get the springtime flowers like Hawkins does. But Lenora is nice. It is not Hawkins, but it is still nice.

Mom and Jonathan are both doing well too! It was Mom’s idea to send you one letter at first, just to be safe. We think she is a bit nervous about finally contacting people from our old life again, so we figured we would do what we can to help. Other than that, she is doing well. She has gotten a new, amazing job, and she even gets to work from home! It is a lot better than the jobs she has had before, and she seems happy.

Jonathan is… doing alright too. He misses Nancy, just like we both miss you and our other friends. Right now, he is going to school at Lenora Community College with his funny friend, Argyle, who he smokes the weird-smelling plants with. Will says the plants are pot, which explains why Jonathan smells like our weird classmate, Matty. He likes to smoke too, just like Jonathan. (Don’t tell Nancy or your parents though. Jonathan has made us swear not to let anyone, especially Mom, know.)

As for me and Will? We’re doing alright! High school is hard, but we both enjoy it for the most part. Freshman year was difficult, especially not knowing anyone but each other. We really only had each other during that time, and it made being away from you (and the others) so much harder. But we are both glad that we had one another, and we’re glad we have gotten even closer! 

Sophomore year has barely just begun, but I think it will be better than freshman year. Will and I have most classes together, but he is taking an art elective while I take a cooking class! I am learning how to make all kinds of recipes, and it is so much fun. Will is learning different ways to paint and draw and make art, and he loves it too. I think we are both finally adapting.

Dr. Owens says that we should be safe to begin contacting people from Hawkins again, but he has warned us to still be careful. To be safe, we will send letters under Will’s name, even if they are from me! We don’t want to risk anything. Owens also said that if there are no issues the rest of this year, we can even have people visit us here in Lenora! That means you could come to California and see us!

Maybe spring break could work. We have not had any problems since we moved here, so hopefully, everything will work out. I miss you so much, and I would love to see you again soon. 

But that’s enough about us. How are you doing? How is Hawkins? How was your freshman year? And how are the others? We hope you all have been doing okay since we left. We miss you—all of you—so much!

Hopefully, we will get to see each other soon. But in the meantime, we can send letters and start calling each other again! You can send letters to the address Will put on the envelope, and our number is 661-082-0404. Mom does use the phone most of the time for her job, so we might not be able to answer all the time. But letters work too! Will wrote this one from both of us because his handwriting and spelling are better than mine, but we can send our own letters back and forth from here on out.

I hope you’re doing okay, Mike. Can’t wait to talk to you soon.

Love,

El and Will 

There’s a lump in the back of Mike’s throat, and he doesn’t know why.

For the longest time, Mike just sits there, rereading the letter over and over again until he practically has it memorized. And each time he finishes the letter, it feels like there is a pit in his stomach that keeps growing larger and larger. 

On the fourth time reading the letter, Mike realizes why.

It’s because despite the letter being in Will’s handwriting, there is hardly a single thing from Will in this entire letter. No, the entire letter sounds like it is from El, and Mike can easily replace every “we” in the letter with “I” instead. The letter is supposed to be from both El and Will, but in reality, it seems as though Will has not given any input whatsoever into the note. 

The pit inside Mike’s stomach grows larger, and he swallows the lump in the back of his throat. None of this… makes any sense. Why would Will not want to talk to him? Why would Will not give any insights about his life beside the surface level updates provided by Eleven? Is he… mad at Mike or something? Is he trying to avoid Mike for some reason?

Suddenly, the fight from over a year ago comes back to the forefront of Mike’s mind. “It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!” he had said to Will in the heat of the moment. Could Will… still possibly be hurt by that fight? He and Mike hadn’t really gotten to talk about that day, thanks to the reappearance of the Mind Flayer and the Byers’ subsequent move to California. Could it be possible that Will is still angry with Mike?

Mike takes a shuddered breath, and he clenches his hand around the letter, crumpling it slightly. He’s probably just overthinking this. Of course, Will would let El take the lead on their first letter to him. El is Mike’s girlfriend , and Will is just being a good best friend. There’s nothing wrong, and Mike is most definitely just overthinking all of this.

Still, he can’t help but think that something is just off with this whole situation—with his whole friendship with Will.

That thought alone is enough to make Mike’s stomach turn.

Everything has changed, and Mike hates it.

There’s that stupid saying, right? One step forward, two steps back. Progress is made, but then a setback occurs that lands you in a position even worse than the one you started out in.

Mike sort of feels like his life has become that.

Because things have gotten better in so many different regards. He has a group of friends—the Hellfire Club—and feels close to people like Dustin and Eddie. He has his girlfriend back, and even though they can’t physically see each other until spring break, things with El are good again. Things have changed, and Mike has adapted.

But then on the other hand, things have just gotten worse .

Max, despite consistently being a pain in the ass of a friend, has all but disappeared from Mike’s life, and he finds himself missing her sarcastic quips and her no nonsense attitude. The dark side has basically kidnapped Lucas, and he spends most of his time hanging out with them asshole seniors on the basketball team. And Will? Mike doesn’t even know what’s going on with Will. They’ve spoken once since the no contact rule was lifted and have sent maybe three or four letters to each other. Every other phone call Mike has attempted has resulted in a busy line. 

Three best friends, gone in a span of less than two years. Change sucks, and Mike hates it so fucking much.

Life goes on though. Before Mike knows it, Christmas break rolls around, and he spends his days writing up new campaign ideas to share with Eddie for Hellfire next semester. He’s been helping Eddie more and more with these campaigns, and if things keep going well and Eddie actually graduates this year, Mike thinks he’ll get to take over as Hellfire’s new Dungeon Master. 

Still, practically every D&D campaign reminds Mike of his original party—Lucas and Dustin and Will (and eventually El and Max). He loves Hellfire and loves his new friends, but more often than not, Mike finds himself reminiscing on how things used to be, back before everyone drifted apart from each other… Back before Mike lost half of his friends and half of his heart.

(It sucks. It all really, really sucks.)

Christmas Eve is a rather boring affair. Nancy is home from school, and their mom makes the entire family sit down and watch some Christmas movies together. She bakes cookies too, and together with Nancy and Holly, they decorate cookies and set out a plate for Santa. Then, Mike’s mom tucks Holly into bed, and both she and Nancy go up to their respective rooms, while Mike retreats to the comfort of the basement.

It’s barely 11 o’clock, and while watching movies with his family, Mike had gotten some campaign ideas. He sits down at his desk and grabs his notebook, absently scribbling down his thoughts and making a mental note to himself to share this with Eddie in a few days. Eddie’s fucking insane and has it in his head to make a semester-long campaign for next spring. Mike’s not sure they’ll be able to pull it off, but damn, if they do… it’ll be fucking awesome.

Will would’ve loved Hellfire, Mike thinks in the back of his mind, and he glances up at some of Will’s old artwork on his wall. His heart clenches at the thought of his best friend, and Mike closes his eyes.

Fuck it, Mike thinks again, and he stands up, walking over to his phone. Without giving it another thought, Mike dials the Byers’ number and holds the phone to his ear. Surely, Mrs. Byers won’t be on the phone this late at night and on a holiday. Someone has to answer the phone.

Sure enough, after a few rings, a familiar voice says, “Hello?” 

Mike just smiles. “Hey, Will,” he says softly, silently thanking the universe for his luck. “It’s um… it’s Mike.”

For a brief moment, there’s silence. Then, Will says, “Oh… hey, Mike! Did you want to talk to El?”

The words feel like a slap in the face, and Mike frowns. “Maybe later,” he says with a shrug. “What, I can’t call and talk to my best friend?”

Silence, again. “Of… of course, you can,” Will replies. He sounds a bit annoyed. Mike scowls even further. “Sorry. I just assumed—”

“It’s fine,” Mike cuts off, even though it really isn’t . “I just… figured we haven’t talked in a while. And I was planning a D&D campaign and thought of you, so… I thought I would call. If… if you’re busy, I can call later…”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Will reassures quickly. “I just wasn’t expecting you to call… that’s all. But, I, um… I’m not busy.”

“Cool.” Mike manages a weak smile, and he sits down against the wall, holding the phone close and trying to ignore the nervous feeling in his stomach. It’s just Will. It’s just Will. Yeah, maybe things have been awkward between them and Will has seemed off, but he’s still Will. 

“Cool,” Will echoes, his voice soft. “Um… you said you were working on a campaign? How’s that going?”

Mike smiles again, and he fiddles with the phone cord absently. “Yeah, it’s this really cool campaign that Eddie is trying to work out for next semester,” he explains. “Eddie’s our Dungeon Master, and he’s the coolest person in the world. You would love him, Will. And I’ve just got a few ideas to give to him—”

Static crackles on the phone, and Mike hears Will curse under his breath. “Shit. Hey, um… I’m sorry, but our phone’s been acting so weird the last few days,” Will says, his voice sounding garbled. “Mom needs to call the phone company, but with Christmas and all, they’re not open. I… I don’t know if now’s a good time…”

“Oh.” Mike swallows the lump in his throat, trying to ignore the feeling of disappointment rising inside his chest. “Oh, yeah. No, that’s fine. Maybe… we can call later this week?”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Will replies, and to Mike’s relief, he sounds genuine. “I can call you after the phone is fixed, if that’s okay?”

“That sounds great,” Mike says softly, and he closes his eyes, leaning his head against the wall. “I… I guess I’ll let you go then. Merry Christmas, Will. Say hi to everyone else for me.”

Once again, static crackles on the phone. “-erry… Christmas, Mike,” comes Will’s barely audible response. “Talk… you soon.”

Then, the line goes dead, and Mike sits there in silence, still holding the phone to his ear. The pit in his stomach has only grown larger, and he clenches his hand tightly around the phone, before throwing it to the side roughly.

None of this is fair. Absolutely none of it. Not the fact that the Byers and El have moved away from Hawkins. Not the fact that Lucas and Max are barely part of Mike’s life anymore. And not the fact that Will has apparently changed so much in the past year that he and Mike don’t even know how to have a conversation anymore.

Everything has changed so much, and everything is so different.

And Mike is just fucking tired of it.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

The Hellfire Club

  March 27, 1987

Dear Mike,

Today is Day 619, but I bet you will read this around… Day 624? 625? The mail is still so slow between Lenora and Hawkins, so it is hard to tell what days you will get my letters. But I am still keeping track of the days it has been since I have seen you, and more importantly, the days until I see you again! 

I can’t believe that it is finally here. In less than a week, I will get to see your face for the first time in almost two years. I am so excited, and it has helped the days go by faster these past few weeks! My mom says that time is funny like that. In a way, we are all time travelers.

There is so much that I want to show you when you come here, and so much that we have to catch up on. I believe it is going to be the best spring break ever. 

I know that Will is excited to see you too. I haven’t gotten to see him as much these past couple of months because he is always busy. He’s working on a painting… I think it may be for a girl he likes? But I haven’t been able to get him to talk yet. Maybe you can?

Jonathan’s spring break is the same week as ours, and he and his friend, Argyle, have already volunteered to bring us wherever we want to go around Lenora. Argyle’s van does smell funny, but you get used to it after a while. I think you will like him. He is strange, but then again, so are all the rest of us!

I’ll keep my letter short this time since I know I’ll see you soon. I cannot wait to see you! 

Love,

El

“What the hell are you doing?” 

Mike flinches sharply, and he looks up, meeting his older sister’s eyes. “What?”

“It’s ten after, Mike!” Nancy snaps. “I’m supposed to be dropping you off at school; now, come on! You have thirty seconds, or I’m leaving without you.”

“Shit,” Mike curses, throwing the letter down and jumping off his bed. “Okay, okay, just let me put on pants, and I’ll be right down.”

Nancy just sighs, rubbing her temples. “It’s just like your freshman year all over again,” she mutters. “I don’t know why I volunteered to drop you off at school today while I’m home on break.”

“It’s because you missed me, and you know it,” Mike says dryly, throwing his Hellfire shirt over his head and hurriedly following his sister down the steps. 

“In your dreams,” Nancy replies, and while she walks to the front door, Mike hurries into the kitchen and grabs two slices of bread.

“Michael,” Mike’s mom says, and Mike glances up, only half paying attention. “I know you have your D&D club tonight—”

“Hellfire Club,” Mike corrects as he throws the bread into the toaster.

“Why don’t you just call it the high school dropout club?” his dad mutters from his place at the table, and Mike fights the urge to flip him off. Leave it to his dad to be a complete asshole as usual.

“I want you home no later than 9 tonight,” Mike’s mom says sternly, and immediately, Mike begins to protest. “No buts, Michael! You have a 6:30 flight tomorrow, so you need to be home early!”

“Mom,” Mike groans. “It’s the last night of Eddie’s campaign! Come on, 9 is way too early!”

“No buts,” his mom reiterates. “9 PM or no California.”

“And no sweetie pie,” Mike’s dad adds, as if he actually cares.

Mike just rolls his eyes. The slices of toast pop out of the toaster, and he grabs them, ignoring the way they slightly burn his hands. From her place by the front door, Nancy yells, “Mike, come on! Let’s go!”

“Jesus, what am I going to do without all of you for a whole week?” Mike says sarcastically, running to the door. He makes sure to pause and ruffle Holly’s on his way out—after all, Holly’s the only one left in the family who somehow manages not to get on Mike’s nerves. His mom gives him another stern look which Mike pointedly ignores as he pulls the door closed behind them and follows Nancy to her car.

“Remind me again when they stop being annoying as fuck,” Mike groans as he sits in the passenger seat. “It’s like you left, and they got a hundred times more unbearable.”

Nancy merely rolls her eyes. “Mom isn’t that bad, and you know it.”

“Yeah, but Dad makes up for it,” Mike grumbles, taking a bite out of his toast. “He’s such an asshole, Nancy! You know, the other day he was watching some bullshit news report about some hate crimes over in Indy? And he just kept going on and on about how ‘people like that are asking for it’ and how all of this is apparently okay? And then another time, we were at the store, and he started grumbling about people who use food stamps right in front of them! Like what the hell?”

“Trust me,” Nancy chuckles dryly. “The older you get, the more you realize how terrible our dad can be. He’s like… the epitome of every sexist, racist, homophobic middle-aged conservative man. It’s like… I seriously cannot believe I used to agree with all this! It’s bullshit!”

“That’s Hawkins for you.” Mike shrugs. “Conservative and stupid as hell. You’re lucky you got out, because all of this stuff is a bunch of bullshit. And Dad’s full of shit.”

Nancy just shakes her head. “You’ll get out eventually,” she reassures.

Mike shrugs. “I hope so.”

“So,” Nancy asks, clearly sensing Mike’s desire to change the subject, “are you ready to see El and Will in California?” 

That familiar, uneasy feeling settles inside Mike’s stomach, and he forces a smile. “Yeah, yeah, of course,” he says, nodding. “I mean… it’s been so long since I’ve seen any of them, and El and I… we’ve been catching up over letters these past few months, so that’s been nice. I think it’ll be good to see her in person again, you know?”

Mike pauses here, turning to give his sister a knowing smirk. “Are you sure you don’t want to book a last minute flight to come with me? You could… I don’t know. See Jonathan?”

Almost immediately, a blush forms on Nancy’s cheeks, and she rolls her eyes again. “I’m not going to California with you, Mike,” she says with a fond sort of exasperation. “And Jonathan and I… we’re not together, like you and El are, you know? We ended things before he left, and we’re… we’re just friends.”

“Just friends,” Mike echoes. “Yeah, okay.”

“Mike.”

“I’m just saying, you and Jonathan were good together,” Mike says defensively. “You always seemed happy with him. If El and I can make it work, then so can you and Jonathan. It’s worth a shot at least.”

Nancy’s gaze turns a bit distant, and she sighs, absently tapping her fingers against the steering wheel. “I know,” she agrees softly. “Honestly, I… I always thought that after all this was over, we’d find our way back to each other… You know, figure out our shit and realize we still love each other and all that. But a lot has changed, and it’s just… it’s just hard right now.”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be.” Mike shrugs. “Like I said, El and I are doing just fine. So, maybe you and Jonathan just need to talk to each other and… figure out how to get back on the same page.”

“I guess you’re right.” Nancy rolls her eyes. “That was painful to say.”

Mike just flips her off. “Asshole.”

Nancy laughs once more. “What about Will?” she asks curiously. “Are you excited to see him?”

At the mention of his best friend (if Mike can even call Will that anymore), Mike’s stomach does a somersault. “Yeah, I mean… why wouldn’t I be?” Mike says, and it’s only partially a lie. In all honesty, there is a small part of Mike that’s excited to see Will. The rest of him is actually sort of dreading their reunion, considering the fact that they haven’t talked since Christmas Eve and Mike isn’t even sure what to say to Will anymore.

“I don’t know,” Nancy says with a shrug. “You just haven’t mentioned him much at all recently. It’s a little strange.”

“Yeah, well,” Mike mutters defensively, “things change. People change. So what?”

Nancy only hums in response, and Mike pretends not to see the knowing look his older sister gives him. Nancy can think whatever she wants to think, but it’s the truth. Clearly, he and Will have grown apart in the past nearly two years, and while Mike hopes that Will Byers will always be his friend, he knows sometimes people drift apart from each other.

Never in a million years did Mike expect Will to drift away, but then again, what the hell does he know anyways?

Fuck basketball.

Literally fuck basketball and its stupid tournaments and its stupid players and its stupid captain, Jason whatshisface. Fuck all of it. 

Mike wants his best friend back, thank you very much.

“Lucas, you can skip one game,” Mike argues. “Tonight’s the end of Eddie’s campaign, and there’s no way in hell we’ll be able to beat it without you!”

“Uh, yeah, Eddie’s campaign is fucking sadistic,” Dustin agrees. “Dude, we need you there tonight!”

Lucas just groans, giving them both an exasperated look. “I can’t just skip the game tonight,” he says in an annoyed tone. “I signed up to be part of this team, which means I’m required to go to all the games.”

“Even if all you do is sit and warm the fucking bench?” Mike mutters.

Lucas’ scowl darkens, and he shoves Mike lightly. “It’s not about whether I’m on the bench or not, Mike,” he snaps. “It’s about the fact that I made a commitment and that I can’t just go back on my word, okay? Just… just ask Eddie if he’ll postpone the meeting tonight! And then you guys can actually come to my game!”

Dustin snorts. “Have you met Eddie? He’s the most stubborn bastard I know. And I know Mike Wheeler.”

“Hey,” Mike says defensively, but Lucas cuts him off before he can say anything else.

“Come on, man, if anyone can convince him, it’s you,” Lucas pleads, and he looks Mike directly in the eye. “Mike, this is important to me. I get it doesn’t matter to you guys, but I… I like being on the basketball team. And who knows, maybe if I get in with these guys, we won’t have to worry about getting bullied or pushed around anymore. Aren’t you tired of that?”

“No, I just love being shoved into lockers and called slurs,” Mike says sarcastically, rolling his eyes.. “Of course, we’re tired, Lucas, but that’s just life!”

“But maybe it doesn’t have to be!” Lucas snaps back. His eyes are narrowed into a glare, and he turns to face Mike. “Maybe we don’t have to be the losers or the freaks we’ve always been! Come on, Mike; wake the hell up!”

Mike feels his face go warm, and he clenches his hands around his backpack straps. “Yeah, well, I’d rather be a freak than pretend to be someone I’m not,” he spits back defensively.

Almost immediately, Lucas’ expression darkens, and he opens his mouth to continue the argument, his fists clenched at his side. Fortunately, Dustin steps between the two of them, placing one hand on both of their chests. “Okay, okay, you both need to chill the fuck out,” he says sternly. “It’s not that big of a deal. Lucas, maybe you can see if the game could get moved?”

“Please tell me you’re not being serious.”

“Okay, yeah, that was a dumb suggestion,” Dustin agrees, then he turns to Mike. “Mike, how about we just… talk to Eddie. We’ll see him at lunch, and we can ask him then. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Eddie will understand.”

Dustin gives Mike a look like, Stop arguing before I strangle you, and Mike just rolls his eyes. “Okay, yeah, fine,” he mutters, looking away. “Whatever.”

“Good,” Dustin sighs in relief. “I’m glad we got all that settled then. Lucas, do you think—”

“Hey, Max,” Lucas blurts out, and Mike looks up, just as the redheaded girl walks past them.

Max, too, glances up at Lucas’ greeting, and she nods at them slightly, before continuing down the hallways of Hawkins High. Mike can’t help but frown. Conversations with Max are few and far between nowadays, and it’s like she’s barely even here. Even nearly two years after Billy’s death, Max still clearly carries the weight of her guilt.

“She still won’t talk to you?” Dustin asks softly.

“No, not really,” Lucas replies, shaking his head. “It’s like… she’s shutting all of us out. I know she’s hurting, but she keeps pushing us away… keeps pushing me away. I don’t know what to do anymore. It fucking sucks.”

Mike’s mind can’t help but wander to his strained relationship with Will, and he swallows the lump in his throat. Despite how things have been with Lucas, he can’t help but empathize with his friend. “She’ll come around,” Mike finds himself saying, even though he’s not sure he believes it. “Maybe we just have to give her more time.”

A tired yet heartbroken look forms on Lucas’ face. “I know,” he murmurs. “But how much?”

“Okay, okay, we got this,” Dustin mutters, for like the hundredth time since meeting up after fifth period. “We’ll just… talk to Eddie, explain what’s going on, and ask him to push back the campaign. He’ll listen to us. He’s not gonna be pissed.”

Mike snorts, giving his best friend a look. “Of course, he’s going to be pissed,” he says dryly. “I'm pissed. Lucas is choosing his stupid basketball friends over us again. Before we know it, he’s not even going to want to be our friend anymore.”

“I think you’re being a little bit overdramatic there,” Dustin replies, and he nudges Mike lightly. “Not everything’s so black and white, you know. And I mean, yeah. I miss Lucas too. But he seems happy. Maybe this is good for him.”

Leaving behind his best friend of over a decade is good for him? Mike wants to say, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just shrugs and sits down at the lunch table, nodding at the other members of Hellfire Club. 

“Exactly,” Eddie says, and Mike gets the vibe that he’s come in on the tail-end of some important conversation. “We’re the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game.” 

Then, Eddie—being Eddie, of course—slams his hand onto the table and jumps out of his seat. Dustin flinches sharply next to Mike, right as Eddie climbs on top of the table and continues, “But as long as you’re into band or science or parties or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets—”

“Hey, you want something, freak?” Jason fucking Carver shouts back, and Mike rolls his eyes. Honestly, he doesn’t get what Lucas sees in that prick. He’s nothing but the perfect, conservative golden boy of Hawkins High, and he’s everything that Mike hates about society. 

Eddie just grins, holding his hands up like devil horns and making a face back at Jason. “It’s forced conformity,” Eddie says, and he looks directly at Mike. They’ve had their fair share of conversations about this, and Mike exchanges a small smile with his friend as Eddie jumps off the table. “That’s what’s killing the kids!”

As some of the girls passing by flinch at Eddie’s outburst, Mike can’t help but chuckle, once again sharing a grin with his friend. “That’s the real monster,” Eddie says, his voice softer now, and he takes a seat back at the table.

Dustin kicks Mike’s foot under the table, giving Mike a look like, Okay, say something.

No, you say something! Mike tries to say back. 

Dustin flips him off, and Mike kicks his foot back. Fine, Dustin’s face seems to say.

“So, uh, speaking of monsters,” Dustin says, clearing his throat and laughing nervously. “Lucas, uh… has to do his, uh… balls-in-laundry-baskets game… So, he… he’s not going to make it to Hellfire tonight!”

A scowl forms on Eddie’s face. Shit, they’re screwed. They are so, so screwed. Mike knew it; he fucking knew it.

“And I know there’s no way we can beat your sadistic campaign without him,” Dustin adds, scrambling to explain himself. “So, uh… me and Mike were thinking… you know, just… shooting the shit… and we thought… that… maybe we might… you know…”

Dustin gives Mike another look like, Help me, asshole, and Mike fights the urge to groan. “Postpone Hellfire?” Mike mutters, hesitantly looking over at Eddie.

The table erupts into protests.

(Yep, they are totally screwed.)

“Everyone, shut up!” Eddie snaps. He looks directly at Mike, his brow raised. “You saying Sinclair’s been taken over by the dark side?”

Mike winces. “Uh, something like that.”

“Something like that?” Eddie echoes, and he chucks a handful of pretzels at Dustin and Mike. “And… rather than find a sub for him, you want… you want to postpone the Cult of Vecna? Seriously, Wheeler? Are you shitting me right now?”

He gives Mike a look like, Don’t try lying about this, and Mike just slumps in his seat, crossing his arms. Eddie knows him too well. The past two years of becoming friends with Eddie and Eddie taking Mike under his wing has proven that. Eddie can see right through his bullshit.

“It’s the championship game or something,” Mike grumbles. “Lucas’ mind is made up. We tried to convince him, but he doesn’t fucking care about any of us anymore.”

Dustin kicks his foot, clearly displeased with Mike’s thoughts on the matter, and Mike just rolls his eyes. “Ah,” Eddie says, standing up and pacing slightly. “And the subs?”

“Well, the… the subs will all probably be at the championship game,” Dustin offers weakly. 

“Oh it’s the championship game?” Eddie pauses, raising an eyebrow at Mike.

“Um… yeah?” Mike shrugs. Does it matter?

“Alright, can I level with you?” Eddie begins to walk over towards the end of the table, and he gestures to the other members of Hellfire. “Jeff graduates this year. Gareth’s got, what? A year left at most? And me? I am army-crawling my way to a D in Ms. O’Donnell’s. If I don’t blow her final, I’m gonna walk that stage next month, I’m gonna look Principal Figgins dead in the eye, I’m gonna flip him the bird, I’m gonna snatch that diploma, and I’m gonna run like hell outta here!”

Mike can’t help but grin as Eddie does his silly little dance, and Dustin laughs beside him, clearly becoming more relaxed. “Didn’t you say that last year?” Gareth quips. 

“And the year before that,” Jeff adds.

Eddie flips them both off. “Yeah, yeah, and I was full of shit,” he says, rolling his eyes. “This year’s different. This year is my year. I can feel it. It’s gonna be different. ‘87, baby.”

Mike just smiles again, and he watches as Eddie ambles up to stand behind both him and Dustin. “But you know what that means, boys,” he says, placing one hand on Dustin’s shoulder and the other on Mike’s. “We’ve been through this before. I mean, we don’t call you Mini Munson for nothing, right, Wheeler?”

“It means you two are the future of Hellfire,” Eddie continues, before Mike and Dustin can say anything else. He gives them both a small smile—one that, from everyone else's perspective might seem a bit sarcastic and fake, but that Mike knows to be genuine. The world may think they have Eddie Munson figured, but Mike and the rest of Hellfire? They know the real Eddie—the kind-hearted though still sarcastic and eccentric yet still genuine guy that has created a safe space for all of them just to be themselves.

“I knew it the moment I saw you,” Eddie muses. “You were sitting right over there at that table with Sinclair, looking like a bunch of lost little sheepies. Dustin, you were wearing a Weird Al t-shirt, which I thought was very brave. And Mike? You were wearing whatever shit your mommy bought you from the goddamn Gap!”

Mike just snorts, and both he and Dustin join in with the rest of the table’s laughter. Alright, so maybe Eddie isn’t that pissed about this—

Eddie yanks both of them to their feet, and Mike stumbles as his friend grips the back of his shirt, pulling him to the end of the table. “We showed you—I showed you—that high school didn’t have to be the worst years of your life,” he reminds. “That you didn’t have to let yourselves be forced into whatever fucking box society has decided for you today, right?”

“Yeah, right, totally,” Dustin stammers, and Mike nods quickly.

Eddie smiles. “Well, I’m here to tell you that there are plenty of other lost little sheepies out there, boys,” he whispers. “Look around. They’re everywhere, just waiting for someone to help ‘em out. To give them a hand up and take ‘em under their wing, just like we’ve done with you. All those little sheepies? They need you. So, all you gotta do is get your bo-peeps on, and find one!’

Eddie gives them a harsh shove towards the middle of the cafeteria. Mike stumbles, cursing under his breath. Behind them, he can hear Eddie and the others snickering, and Mike groans, running a hand through his hair.

Great. This is just great.

“So, uh… that could’ve gone better,” Dustin says.

“Yeah, no shit,” Mike grumbles, looking around the cafeteria. “How the fuck are we supposed to find someone this last minute?”

Dustin looks around the cafeteria, and he winces, turning back to Mike. “Dude, I don’t have a fucking clue,” he sighs. “This is why we need Will, for Christ’s sake. We wouldn’t be out another player, and I bet Will would be able to talk some sense into Lucas.”

“What if you want to find another party?”

“Not possible.”

At the mention of their friend, Mike just winces. That familiar, unsettled feeling in his stomach makes a reappearance, and Mike looks away. “Yeah, well, Will isn’t here,” he mutters. “So, let’s just go find a stupid sub for tonight, okay?”

And without giving Dustin a chance to respond, Mike walks away, his mind racing a million miles a minute.

Everything works out in the end… sort of.

After trying to convince literally everyone (including Steve and Nancy, who both opted to attend the championship game instead like the traitors they are) to join Hellfire Club for the night, Dustin comes up with the insane but genius idea to recruit Erica Sinclair to play with them. Mike has only played through a few campaigns with his friend’s little sister, but like everything else she does, Erica gives it her all at Hellfire. She’s terrifyingly good at what she does, and she’s wholly unafraid to give Eddie and the others just as much shit as they give her.

Mike can tell by the look on Eddie’s face that he fucking loves Erica, so Mike makes a mental note to mention that to Lucas later. Yeah, maybe it’s a bit of an asshole move to tease Lucas and feed into the clear sibling rivalry/antagonism the two have going on, but screw it. Mike is still pissed at Lucas for ditching them tonight. 

“That’s why we do it! That is why we do it!” Eddie exclaims as the members of Hellfire cheer, and Mike grabs Dustin by the shoulders, laughing brightly. 

“Holy shit, we won,” Mike laughs. “We fucking did it!”

“Hell yeah, we did,” Dustin says with a triumphant grin. “Take that, Vecna. Rot in hell, asshole!”

He flicks the little Vecna figurine over, and Eddie just laughs with them, a fond look in his eyes. “And that, my friends,” he says dramatically, taking a bow and motioning to their game, “concludes what I hope to be my last campaign at Hawkins High. Hellfire Club, it has been an honor.”

“Stop talking like you’re dying or something, man,” Jeff laughs, rolling his eyes. “You’re just graduating. And I’ll believe it when I actually see you walk across that stage.”

The others snicker in agreement, and Eddie just flips them the bird. “I’ve got a good feeling about this,” he reassures. “I’m gonna fucking get out of this shithole, and Mini Me over there is going to be the coolest DM that this school has ever seen. Isn’t that right, Wheeler?”

All eyes in the room turn to Mike, and Mike feels his cheeks go warm. “You’re full of shit, Eddie,” he quips, but there’s a grin on his face. “Just because you’re graduating, doesn’t mean you have to get all sappy and shit on us.”

A grin stretches across Eddie’s face, and he walks over, throwing an arm around Mike’s shoulder. “Fuck you too, Wheeler,” he says cheerfully, ruffling Mike’s hair. “Now, if you all would be so kind and clean your shit up? I’ve got places to be.”

“Dude, where the hell do you have to be?” Gareth rolls his eyes, but he walks back over to the table, gathering up some of the garbage thrown everywhere. “We’re supposed to go out tonight! It’s the first night of spring break!”

Eddie waves his hand absently. “I’ve got shit to do first,” he says with a shrug. “Maybe I’ll catch up with you later.”

As Gareth, Jeff, and Eddie continue to argue back and forth about their plans, Dustin turns to Mike. “Are you coming?”

Mike rolls his eyes. “My mom wants me home by 9 tonight,” he sighs. “Early flight tomorrow, remember?”

A shit-eating grin forms on Dustin’s face. “Holy shit, that’s right!” he says excitedly. “You get to see your girlfriend tomorrow!”

“Girlfriend?” Eddie exclaims, and both Mike and Dustin look up to see a surprised look on Eddie’s face. Likewise, the others have stopped their argument, and everyone stares at Mike in total shock. “Wheeler, you have a girlfriend? How the hell am I just now hearing about this?”

Mike winces, and he shrugs helplessly. “It’s sort of complicated,” he admits, doing his best to ignore the unsettled feeling in his stomach. “But yeah… we’ve… been dating since we were thirteen.”

“She’s pretty badass too,” Dustin adds with a smile. “Way out of Mike’s league.”

Mike shoves his best friend, ignoring the other guys’ laughter. “I could’ve sworn I mentioned her,” he says with a wince. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything.”

“No, no, you’re good; it’s all good,” Eddie chuckles. “I’m just… surprised is all. Mike Wheeler has a girlfriend. Who would’ve thought?”

“Who would’ve thought,” Mike echoes, rolling his eyes at the teasing. “I’m going to California to see her tomorrow though. Oh, and Will. They’re… siblings.”

Honestly, calling Will and El “siblings” still feels a bit foreign on Mike’s tongue, but it’s the easiest way to explain this whole messy situation to the others. And besides, Joyce has basically adopted El by now, so that technically makes El Will’s little sister.

Eddie nods. “Will the Wise,” he muses, a curious smile on his face. “Our resident paladin’s favorite cleric. So, you’re going to sunny California to visit your girlfriend… and Will the Wise.”

“Yep.” Mike forces a smile. “It’ll be a lot of fun.”

“I’m sure,” Eddie agrees, and he gives Mike a knowing look, walking over to where Mike and Dustin are standing. “Well, then, I hope you enjoy California, Mini Me, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, okay?” 

Mike rolls his eyes, but he smiles back at the older teen. “I think if I showed up in California acting like you, I might scare El off,” he teases. “So, I definitely won’t.”

A strange look forms on Eddie’s face, and he just clasps Mike’s shoulder with one hand and ruffles Mike’s hair with the other. “Forced conformity, my friend,” he reminds gently. “Don’t forget about it, even when we’re not around to knock some sense into your thick skull.”

For a moment, Eddie’s dark eyes are locked on Mike’s, and it feels like Eddie is able to stare right into Mike’s soul. I know, his expression seems to say. And it’s okay.

Know what? Mike wants to ask, but his voice won’t work. Honestly, he has no idea what Eddie is even talking about, but he gets the feeling it’s something important.

Then, with another grin, Eddie squeezes Mike’s shoulder and steps away. “Alright, I’ll see you assholes in a week,” he says, waving goodbye to the rest of the club. “Don’t stick around long; I bet those basketball pricks are almost done with their game.”

“Oh shit,” Dustin mutters, glancing over at Mike. “We might run into Lucas.”

Mike just shrugs. “We’ll just… tell him we couldn’t postpone the campaign tonight,” he says. “We tried to convince Eddie, and it didn’t work. It’s Lucas’ loss.”

“Right,” Dustin murmurs, gathering up the last of his things. “And it’s not that big of a deal.”

“It really isn’t,” Mike agrees, and he grabs his backpack, walking out of the room with the others. “If Lucas is pissed, we can hash it out after I get home from California. But for now…”

Dustin grins. “For now, you get to focus on seeing El and Will,” he finishes. “Say hi to them for me, will you? And you know… kidnapping them and dragging them back to Hawkins isn’t a bad idea.”

Mike snorts. “Trust me, if I could figure out a way to do that, I would.” 

“We could pull it off,” Dustin says with a shrug. “Your house is big enough for them to hide there. El can have Nancy’s old room while she’s at college, and Will can crash in the basement. It’ll be just like old times.”

“Yeah,” Mike agrees softly, and he does his best to ignore the overwhelming feeling of anxiety building inside his chest. He forcefully pushes the door open, relishing the way the chilly March air hits his face. “Just like old times.”

Before Dustin can say anything else, Mike forces a smile and turns to his best friend. “I’ll see you in a week,” he says, casually throwing his arm around Dustin’s shoulder in a one-armed hug. “Maybe if we’re not busy, El, Will, and I will call you, okay?”

Dustin smiles brightly, and he hugs Mike back. “You’d better, asshole,” he says. “I hope you have a good time, Mike.”

Mike gives his best friend another smile—one that’s actually real this time. “Thanks, man,” he says softly. “I’ll see you soon.”

Without another word, Mike turns and jogs towards Nancy’s parked car, leaving Dustin and the rest of Hellfire behind.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three 

California Dreamin’

Mike hates airplanes.

He can count the number of times he’s been on an airplane on one hand, and he has hated every damn experience on an airplane. There was that time when he was six, and there was so much damn turbulence on the flight to Orlando. That flight had ended with Mike sobbing into his mom’s shoulder and refusing to get back on the airplane a week later. 

Then, there had also been the time when he was eight years old, and his parents let both Nancy and Mike bring a friend on their family vacation to South Carolina. Nancy, of course, had brought Barb with her, and Mike had taken Will with him. Having Will by his side had helped to calm some of his anxiety, and throughout practically the entire flight there and back, Mike had held onto Will’s hand tighter than ever before. 

Most other family vacations were turned into road trips, thanks to Mike’s fear of flying. But now, at fifteen (nearly sixteen) years old, he finds himself on an airplane alone for the first time.

And it is absolutely miserable.

Five hours of sitting in a flying metal death trap with nothing but a walkman, an old book Nancy had recommended to him, and a notebook to figure out what the hell Mike is going to say when he sees his girlfriend and his (former? still sort of but not really?) best friend for the first time in nearly two years is absolute torture . Every time the plane shakes more than usual or does a little bit of a free fall, Mike feels like he is going to throw up. 

It’s fine. Everything is fine. As long as he can distract himself, he can pretend like he’s not on a plane. No, no, Mike is at home, down in his basement, and writing. He’s listening to Eddie’s latest music recommendations and just trying to figure out what he wants to say to El (and to Will). Things are totally fine.

(Things are not fine.)

As the plane lurches again, Mike clenches his pencil tightly, forcing himself to take a deep breath. He has a few bullet points written out of what he should probably say when he sees El. He’ll kiss her, of course, because they’re still together and it’s been way too long since he’s gotten to do that. He’ll tell her she looks beautiful, which of course, she’ll want to hear. He’ll say something about how he’s missed her and how he’s excited to be here with her. Oh, and he’ll give her the flowers that he managed to snag on his way home from Hellfire last night. It’ll be perfect. He and El will have the best, most romantic reunion, just like they’ve both been dreaming about.

And then there’s Will.

Yeah, Mike has no bullet points written down under Will’s name. He’s not… really sure what to say. Should he mention that he’s missed Will, or would that be weird? And he can’t really comment on Will’s appearance, even if Will has hit a growth spurt or changed since the last time Mike has seen him, because that would definitely be weird of Mike. Nobody pays that much attention to their best friend, but Mike can’t help it. He’s always noticed Will, always been keenly aware of his presence, even when Will isn’t the center of focus. That’s just how things have always been.

Maybe instead… he could ask Will about that painting El mentioned in her last letter? But would that be too obvious? Would Will know Mike is trying to get into his business and figure him out again?

God, this is too fucking difficult. It used to be so easy talking to Will. For God’s sake, Mike has had Will for literally two-thirds of his life. If there’s anyone he’s always been able to talk to, it’s Will. 

But now? Now, Mike can’t even figure out a single thing to say to his best friend. Despite having so much he actually wants and knows he should say to Will, Mike has no idea where to even begin. Would Will even want to hear Mike’s thoughts? Maybe he’s moved on from their friendship and found another best friend—one that’s not a shitty person who says shitty things and ditches him for no good reason. Honestly, Mike can’t even blame Will if that’s the case. If he was in Will’s shoes, Mike would avoid him too.

So yeah. There’s really no telling how this whole reunion is going to go, and the dread fully settles into Mike’s stomach as the pilot begins their descent into California. Mike glances out the window, watching as the grassy landscape of Lenora Hills comes into view, and he forces himself to take a deep breath. 

Maybe he’s overthinking all of this. Maybe it’ll all be fine. All he has to do is pretend like things are alright, test out the waters, and maybe just… follow Will’s lead. Yeah. If Will wants space, then Mike will give him space. And who knows. Maybe sometime this week, they can actually sit down and have a conversation about… whatever the hell it is that’s going on in their friendship. Mike will get to apologize for how they left things two years ago, and then, the two of them can go back to being best friends again, like nothing happened.

Yeah, unless Will doesn’t need you anymore, the voice of doubt in the back of Mike’s mind sneers. What are you going to do then?

Mike swallows the lump in his throat, and he clenches his hands tightly around his notebook, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest. No. He can’t let himself think about that… about worst case scenarios. This is Will he’s talking about here. Not Max. Not Lucas. He’s not going to lose Will too. It’s not going to happen. Mike won’t let it happen.

The wheels touch down on the ground, and the airplane comes to a gradual stop. Mike breathes a sigh of relief, leaning down and carefully placing his notebook into his backpack. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Lenora Hills, California,” the pilot says cheerfully over the intercom. “The current weather is sunny and 75 degrees with a slight breeze. Once again, thank you all for flying American Airlines…”

Within another ten or fifteen minutes, Mike finally steps off the metal flying death trap and steps onto solid ground. He breathes a sigh of relief, taking a second to reorient himself before following the long line of passengers exiting the jet bridge. Despite finally being free of the plane, Mike’s heart still pounds restlessly inside his chest, and he clutches the little bouquet of Hawkins’ flowers as tightly as he can. 

He can do this. It’s all going to be fine.

Finally, Mike reaches the airport terminal, and he looks around, trying to find El and Will. There are way too many people in this damn airport, and actually, now that he thinks about it, he literally hasn’t seen El or Will in almost two years, so they could look totally different—

“Mike!” a familiar voice calls, and Mike turns towards the voice, relief washing over him like a tidal wave. There, standing a few feet away and smiling brightly at him, is Eleven. She looks different—still beautiful, but definitely different. Her hair has grown out, so she looks almost nothing like the girl he met nearly four years ago. She’s dressed in a flannel—one that Mike’s almost certain used to be Will’s—and a colorful patterned dress.

“El!” Mike laughs brightly, and he runs over to her, throwing his arms around his girlfriend. El puts her hands on Mike’s cheeks and kisses him briefly, before pulling him into a tight hug. “Oh, hey, careful, careful! You’re squishing your present!”

El pulls back, her brow furrowed, and Mike gives her a shy smile, holding out the flowers. “It’s, uh, a gift,” he says with a sheepish laugh, pulling his sunglasses down. “I handpicked those for you in Hawkins… I know you like yellow and also purple, so I tried to do like a mix of them… But now, I’m realizing I did too much yellow and probably should’ve added more purple, and…”

Mike’s voice trails off, as out of the corner of his eye, he notices Will walking up to them, followed by Jonathan and another guy that Mike doesn’t recognize. El says something—thank you, probably—but honestly, Mike’s attention is fully on Will.

Will looks… different. In a good way. Like… really good. His hair is longer than Mike remembers it ever being, and the classic bowl cut of their childhood is gone. In its place is a messier haircut, almost reminiscent of the one that Jonathan had a few years back. Not only that, but Will is taller now—probably only a couple inches shorter than Mike himself is and far less scrawny too (unlike Mike himself). He’s dressed in a blue flannel (no surprise there), and in his hands, he holds a rolled up brown poster.

He’s working on a painting… I think it may be for a girl he likes? Somehow, the words from El’s letter make their way to the forefront of Mike’s mind, and he swallows the lump in his throat. 

“Mike!” Will says brightly, and he immediately goes in for a hug.

And well… Mike’s brain short-circuits.

Somehow, he becomes all too aware of just how damn close Will is to him now. Will, his (best) friend who’s finally grown into his limbs and isn’t the tiny little boy Mike used to know from their childhood and who has completely different hair now but who somehow still has the same exact smile that has never failed to make Mike smile in all the years they’ve known each other. Will, who… hasn’t been the same over these past few months and who has been so far away from Mike is suddenly right here—and Mike…

Mike just doesn’t know what to do with all of this. 

“Oh, hey,” Mike stammers, awkwardly patting his best friend’s shoulder and ducking out of the hug. His heart is pounding so hard inside his chest that he thinks it might burst. God, why is he feeling like this? 

Almost immediately, Will’s face falls, and Mike winces. Smooth, Wheeler, he thinks to himself, and he waves weakly to Jonathan, mumbling another hello. Real smooth.

“Uh, what’s that?” Mike asks in an attempt to ease the awkwardness, and he forces a smile, gesturing to Will’s painting.

Unfortunately, this seems to have the opposite effect, and Will’s expression turns guarded. “It… it’s nothing,” he says, absently hitting the painting against his hand. “Just… some painting I’ve been working on.”

“Cool,” Mike says awkwardly. For a moment that feels like an eternity, he and Will both stand there and stare at one another. There’s a chasm between the two of them, and God , there’s nothing Mike wants more than to be able to reach across the chasm and just talk to Will again, before they lose each other for good.

But Will is different now, and whereas Mike used to always be able to read Will like an open book, he finds he has no idea what Will is thinking anymore. 

(It’s a painful realization.)

“That’s a rad shirt dude,” the strange guy standing next to Jonathan says, and Mike flinches, turning away from Will. “Ocean Pacific?”

“Oh, Mike, this is my friend, Argyle,” Jonathan introduces. 

“Oh… hey.” Mike holds his hand out, offering Argyle an awkward smile. 

Argyle stares at him blankly for the briefest moment, then he steps towards Mike, putting his arms around him.

What the fuck? Mike thinks to himself. 

“Oh, no, no, no, it’s just some shitty knock off,” Argyle says as he pulls away from Mike. “Don’t sweat it, man; I’ll get you the good threads out here.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Mike notices both Will and El facepalm, and he forces a weak smile. “Um… kay,” he says, turning back to El and giving her a look like, Help me.

El just smiles, her eyes crinkling ever so slightly. “Maybe we should go,” she suggests. 

“Yeah, yep, I like that plan,” Mike agrees, and he throws his arm around El’s shoulder, relieved at how natural it feels. “So, where to first?”

“I have our whole day planned,” El says with another smile. “First, burritos at El Rodeo—”

“Burritos for breakfast?” Mike raises a brow. “Seriously?”

El grins. “Will and I thought the same thing at first, but just trust me,” she reassures. 

Mike laughs. “Yeah, okay, sure. I mean, I trust you; it’s just… it’s a little weird.”

“Then, after burritos, I want to go to Rink-O-Mania,” El finishes. 

“Rink-O-Mania.” Mike nods, glancing around absently. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Will walking a step or two behind El, a frown on his face. His hands are clenched tightly around the painting, and he’s clearly upset. 

Great.

“What’s Rink-O-Mania again?” Mike asks, quickly looking away from Will.

“It’s the most fun place in Lenora,” El explains with a smile. “They have skating and games, and it’s the best there!”

“Cool, cool.” Mike smiles. “Are your friends going to meet us there?”

Will snorts. “Friends?” he says disbelievingly. “What friends?”

Mike’s brow furrows, but before he can say anything, El hits Will lightly with her bouquet of flowers. “You know,” she says, giving him a look, “Stacy and Angela?”

“Angela?” Will exclaims, and Mike can’t help but glance in his direction. There’s a scowl on Will’s face, but when he glances over at Mike, there’s concern in his eyes. 

Weird. 

“You’ll meet them, I promise,” El reassures, but there’s something… off about her response. About Will’s response. It’s almost like… well, like she’s lying to Mike.

But no… El wouldn’t do that. Why would she lie to Mike?

“I want today to be about me and you,” El adds, and Mike glances at her, forcing a weak smile and kissing her forehead. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Will’s scowl deepen, and the pit in Mike’s stomach only worsens.

With Will’s newfound attitude and El’s dodgy behavior… Mike’s not so sure how this spring break is going to go.

There must be something in this stupid California water because everyone is completely, fucking different.

Breakfast is just… awkward. The food is good at least, but the company is so horribly, painfully awkward. Jonathan’s friend, Argyle, is clearly stoned out of his mind, which makes sense based on El’s descriptions of him. Jonathan remains quiet for most of breakfast, absently poking at his food, and he looks like he wants to be anywhere but here with them. 

Then, of course, there’s El. She’s actually a lot more talkative than Mike remembers her being—which isn’t a bad thing at all… just different. The Eleven Mike remembers was just starting to find herself and learn how to be normal after a life of being hidden away and traumatized by fucking Brenner. In those seven or eight months the two of them got to spend together, Mike got to watch as El came out of her shell little by little. It was slow progress, but even in spite of her quiet nature, the two of them worked. They liked being with each other—liked holding hands and hugging and kissing whenever Hopper wasn’t around. 

Now though, these past nearly two years seem to have brought a whole new El in the world, and it’s a little weird to see just how much El has changed. She seems to be doing fine at school and here in Lenora, and she’s built a whole life here, away from Hawkins and… away from Mike. And yeah, it’s not like Mike expected life to just stop once the two of them were separated, but… it still feels weird, seeing how much El has been able to move on and make friends and enjoy her life.

It feels like such a stark contrast to Mike’s own high school experience, battling through the frustration of losing his girlfriend and three of his best friends, and just trying to keep his head afloat.

And speaking of best friends… 

Will? He’s completely different. He’s colder and more distant. Mike has never seen him like this. Will sits at the end of his table and quietly broods, only speaking when directly spoken to. He looks at Mike maybe twice throughout all of breakfast, and when he does actually speak, he sounds disinterested and annoyed. When he thinks Mike isn’t looking, he gives El some rather nasty looks and even rolls his eyes at her as she tells stories about school.

And God, does it piss Mike off.

Honestly, Mike doesn’t know what he was expecting. Maybe he should’ve seen this coming without how damn weird Will has been since Owens’ no contact rule was lifted. Will has been frustratingly distant from Mike for the past several months, and for the longest time, Mike just figured that it was because of their fight before the Mind Flayer/Starcourt debacle. But now? Now, it just feels like Will has changed. For the worse. He’s like an entirely different person.

The unsettled feeling in Mike’s stomach grows worse. He passes it off as the burrito not sitting well.

After breakfast, Argyle drives them to Rink-O-Mania, and fortunately, El sits between Mike and Will. The drive from the restaurant to the skate rink is painfully quiet, as if everyone just knows there’s some massive elephant in the room but refuses to talk about it. 

Like hell Mike is going to bring it up. If Will wants to act like this all day and ruin their first day back together in nearly two years, then fine. He can act that way. Mike is going to do his best to enjoy it, with or without Will.

Still, no matter how hard he tries to ignore Will and his newfound attitude, Mike just can’t seem to look past it. El pulls Mike along with her throughout the entire day, forcing him to skate and play different games and try all these new things, and it’s fun. Really, it is fun. Mike laughs a lot, especially when he and El collide with one another and end up in a tangle of limbs on the ground. 

But in spite of all that, Mike also finds himself so consciously aware of how Will lingers behind them and barely says a word the entire day. It’s like he can feel Will’s annoyed gaze burning holes in the back of Mike’s head. He can feel the tension leaking off of Will and bleeding into the rest of the room. It’s frustrating, and it makes Mike feel like shit.

If this is how it’s going to be all fucking week, Mike honestly doesn’t know how he’s going to survive this break.

“Mhm, mhm.” Mike takes a sip out of El’s milkshake and grins. “Yeah, no, mine’s better.”

El just laughs, and she swats his arm lightly. “No, it isn’t!”

Mike laughs again, but before he can say anything else, a blonde girl skates up to their table, followed by a few other teenagers. “Milkshakes?” she says, her voice dripping with a false kind of sweetness. In front of him, Mike notices Will tense, and beside him, El’s hand clenches around her milkshake.

Uh oh.

“Where, oh where have you been hiding this handsome thing?” the blonde girl asks, and she looks at Mike, her gaze curious. She gives off the vibe of every prissy, stuck up cheerleader at school, and judging by both Will and El’s reactions, Mike gets the feeling that this girl is nothing but trouble.

“Uh,” El mumbles, and she glances at Mike. The look on her face is almost reminiscent of the ones from when El had just first met Mike—back when she had been so scared and uncertain of herself. That certainly doesn’t bode well, and Mike can’t help but frown. “Angela, this… this is my… boyfriend, Mike.”

Angela? Mike thinks to himself. That doesn’t make any sense. Mike is fairly certain that El called Angela one of her closest friends in a couple of letters she’d sent this year. That’s strange.

“Angela. Pleasure,” Angela says, and she holds out her hand to Mike, another smile plastered on her face.

Mike awkwardly takes her hand. “I, uh… I heard a lot about you,” he says with a forced smile. “It’s really cool to finally meet some of El—Jane’s—friends.”

“Friends?” Angela scoffs, and that all but confirms it for Mike. Clearly, something has happened between El and this Angela girl, and whatever it is, things didn’t end well. 

Angela focuses on El, and she smiles again. “Super cool. Come on, friend. Let’s skate, shall we?”

“I-I actually wanted to finish this,” El stammers, motioning to her milkshake, but one of the guys behind Angela grabs it before El can.

“I’ll hold onto that,” he says, voice dripping with that false kindness, and Mike barely has a moment to react before Angela grabs El’s hand and pulls her to her feet. 

“Shit,” Will swears, standing to his feet. He looks around the room, watching as Angela pulls El back onto the rink. There’s clearly something wrong, and Mike’s suspicions are only further confirmed when Will mutters, “Oh no.”

“What?” Mike stands up, going to Will’s side immediately. “What’s wrong?”

Will runs a hand through his hair, and he shakes his head. “El… she… she hasn’t been telling you everything,” he says weakly. 

Mike feels his heart drop to his stomach, and for one of the first times today, he looks at Will in the eye. “What are you talking about?”

There’s a pained look on Will’s face. “She’s been lying to you, Mike,” he says, voice quiet. The dreadful feeling in Mike’s stomach just continues to grow, worsening even more when Will adds, “She’s having problems here.”

“Problems?” Mike echoes. “What kind of problems?”

Before Will can even respond, the music in the rink stops, and a voice comes over the intercom. “Alright, everyone,” some guy says, “this next song is dedicated to Jane, the local snitch.”

“Fuck,” Will whispers, right as the familiar cackling laugh at the beginning of the song Wipe Out plays. 

In almost perfect sync, Mike and Will turn to each other, exchanging twin looks of shock and horror before turning back to the rink. A couple dozen other teens have gathered around, and they circle El like a bunch of predators surrounding their prey. They throw out horrible insults—calling El a freak and a loser and yelling other terrible things at her, all while some guy films it.

Mike’s heart is pounding inside his chest, and he looks around, trying to find the source of the music. There, standing by the record player, are a couple of asshole guys laughing at the entire scene unfolding. 

Without giving it another thought, Mike skates over to the guys. “Hey, assholes!” he shouts. “Hey, turn it off!”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you, dude!” one of them laughs, pointing to his ears. 

“I said, turn it off,” Mike snaps through gritted teeth. “Turn the fucking music off, asshole!”

A grin forms on the other guy’s face. “If you say so,” he says smugly, before reaching to turn the music off.

The record scratches, and Mike glances back towards the skate rink. It’s as if time slows down all at once, and he watches in horror as one of Angela’s friends skates up to El and throws a milkshake right at her face, causing her to trip and fall onto the ground.

“Wipeout!” the asshole DJ cackles, and God, Mike could deck him right then and there. 

Everyone in the skate rink is laughing, and Mike feels like his ears are ringing. He doesn’t hesitate; he skates as fast as he can over to where El is. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Will do the same thing, but there are just too many people surrounding El. Neither of them can get past the crowd; nobody will let them through.

“El!” Mike screams, desperately trying to shove past the laughing teens. “El! Leave her alone! El! Get out of my way! El!”

As he tries to get through, Mike watches as El pulls herself to her feet, skating away in the opposite direction. There are tears in her eyes, and she’s clearly humiliated, which makes Mike feel even worse. On her way off the rink, El nearly collides with Will, who tries to console her, but she pushes him away, skating away from all the chaos. All the while, everyone just laughs and laughs, throwing out insult after insult. 

Mike feels sick to his stomach, and as El skates away, he just stands there, frozen in place with a million thoughts running through his head. 

He doesn’t even know how to react to any of this now. Number one, how does he console El after that type of humiliation? Mike has been bullied his entire life but never in such a public way. Normally, the bullies that have come after him have done so in isolated events around maybe only a few different people.

And number two… all of this today just… shows that El has been lying to him. This… this entire time, El has been lying to him. What was it that Will had said? She’d been “having problems” here in Lenora? Why… why wouldn’t El have told him any of that? Didn’t she trust him? Wouldn’t she want his help, or at the very least his support?

So now, Mike has a best friend who refuses to talk or even look at him and a girlfriend who has been lying to him for the past six months. 

So much for a good spring break.

“El?” Mike opens the door to the girls’ bathroom, but unfortunately, instead of finding his girlfriend, he finds a group of indignant teenage girls.

“What the hell?” one of them shouts. “Get out!”

“Sorry!” Mike closes the door, wincing slightly, and he turns around, walking back over to Will.

“She’s not in there?” he asks, clearly stressed.

“No,” Mike mutters, walking past Will. God, they’ve looked practically everywhere for El now, but she’s still nowhere to be found. All of this is a mess—hell, this whole day is a fucking mess—and Mike just feels angry and stressed and overwhelmed. This is not how the day was supposed to go. This isn’t what it was supposed to be like.

“You should’ve told me she was having trouble,” Mike snaps as Will follows after him. “Now, look what happened.”

“I didn’t know they were going to be here, Mike!” Will says defensively. 

Mike rolls his eyes, shoving past some of the other teenagers still standing around the arcade games and tables. “Yeah, but you knew she was having trouble, and you didn’t tell me? Thanks a lot, Will.”

“Well, I didn’t know she was lying to you!” Will huffs, and there’s a bit of an edge to his voice. He seems angry—another thing that’s different about Will. Will hardly ever gets angry with anyone but especially not with Mike. Normally, they’re always on the same page. 

“Which is why you decided to be a douche to us all day?” Mike snaps.

“I wasn’t being a douche!” Will snaps back. “What the hell, Mike?”

And really, that does it. Mike stops, and he turns back around, glaring at the other boy. “You were!” he all but shouts as both he and Will stop to face one another. “You were ! You were rolling your eyes and-and moping, and you’ve barely looked at me or talked to me the entire day! You basically sabotaged the whole day!”

For a brief moment, an unreadable expression flashes across Will’s face, but it disappears right back underneath his new mask. “Well, she was lying to you the entire day, Mike!” he shouts back. “Straight to your face, ever since you got here, and for God knows how long! And I… I’ve been a total third wheel this whole day. It’s been miserable. So… so sorry, if I wasn’t… if I wasn’t smiling.”

Will’s voice cracks ever so slightly, and for just a second, Mike feels the chasm between them grow smaller. The walls between them come down, for the briefest moment. Will looks at Mike with eyes that say a million different things, and Mike feels completely overwhelmed by all that Will has to say.

Yeah, but he pushed you away, a resentful, hurt voice in the back of Mike’s mind reminds. Remember?

Mike is the first one to break their gaze. “Yeah, whatever, man,” he mutters, doing his best to ignore the nervous thump thump thump of his heart. He turns away from Will and walks away, forcing himself to take a deep breath.

“Well, what about us?”

Mike stops. Turns back around. Does his best to ignore the growing pit of dread in his stomach and the heat rising to his cheeks. “W-what?” 

There’s a hardened look on Will’s face, and he steps up to Mike, hazel eyes full of emotion—anger, hurt, betrayal, sadness. “You’re mad that I didn’t talk to you?” Will accuses. “It seems like you’ve made it super clear that you’re not interested in anything I have to say.”

The words feel like a punch in the gut. They’re harsh enough to take Mike’s breath away in the worst way possible, and suddenly, he feels torn between his own anger and hurt and defensiveness. 

He thinks back to the few letters he and Will had sent back and forth—where the words exchanged between the two of them had felt so forced, like neither of them actually had things to say to one another. He thinks about the few times that they’ve called one another and all the failed times when Mike called the Byers’ phone, only to get the busy signal. He even thinks about today and how Will continued to put distance between the two of them, despite Mike being right fucking here.

And now Will is saying that Mike hasn’t been trying? 

“That’s not true,” Mike snaps. He wants to say more, but Will beats him to it.

“You’ve called maybe a couple times,” Will says, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Sent a couple letters. Meanwhile, El… she has an entire box full of letters from you, Mike!”

Mike doesn’t like the accusing tone of Will’s voice or the implications of what he’s saying. At all. “That’s because she’s my girlfriend, Will!”

“And us?” Will challenges. He looks Mike directly in the eye, nearly taking Mike’s breath away once again. Mike’s heart races inside his chest.

What about us? Mike thinks, and for some strange reason, he thinks of Eddie.

It’s forced conformity, Wheeler. 

“We’re friends,” Mike says defensively. The implications of Will’s words aren’t lost on him, so for good measure, Mike emphasizes, “We’re friends, Will.” 

“Yeah well, we used to be best friends, Mike!” Will shouts, and his voice cracks again.

The chasm closes a little bit more, but Mike still feels like he’s worlds apart from Will. Clearly, Will is hurt, but so is Mike. And clearly, just like Mike has noticed the distance between the two of them, Will has too.

It’s not my fault, part of Mike wants to say. You pushed me away.

I miss you, the other part of him wants to say. I’m sorry I pushed you away. Please, can we just be us again?

“Well, maybe you should’ve reached out more,” Mike says, quieting his voice. His stomach is turning, and his chest feels tight. Everything inside him just feels like… like some big gaping wound that’s never healed properly, and God, Mike just wants to run back in time… back to before things became so different. “I… I don’t know. But why is this just on me? Why am I the bad guy?”

Will’s face just falls. All at once, his false bravado from their argument and before dissipates and only the rawness of Will’s real emotions remains. He looks completely crushed—like Mike just killed his damn dog or something. The moment feels all too familiar.

It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!

Nice going, asshole, Mike thinks to himself, and he looks away, unable to bear seeing the emotion on Will’s face.

“Let’s just… let’s just find El, okay?” Mike says quietly. “Then we’ll call Jonathan and get the hell out of here.”

Without giving Will a chance to say anything else, Mike turns back around and starts walking towards the other side of the skate rink. He has no idea if Will is actually following him, and part of him doesn’t even care. 

All of this is just… too fucking much to deal with. All Mike wanted was to have a normal fucking spring break with his girlfriend and with his best friend. All he wanted was to be able to be with the two people he loves and cares about most for the first time in almost two years. Maybe he’d been an idiot, expecting to pick up right where he’d left off with both El and Will. Maybe it’s stupid for Mike to have hoped that things wouldn’t have changed that much with these two—that, in spite of how much things have changed back home in Hawkins, El and Will would be the steady, ever present constants in his life.

But no. Now, it’s more clear than ever before just how much the past two years have changed… for everyone. The party isn’t really the party anymore, and there’s little to no hope of them ever being the party again. Because Max has all but removed herself from their lives, Lucas has found different friends to spend time with, El has decided to lie to Mike for God knows what reasons, and Will has shut Mike out of his life completely. With the exception of Dustin, every other party member has changed so much that Mike feels like he doesn’t even know them anymore.

And what about you? a voice in the back of his mind questions. Haven’t you changed too?

A lump forms in the back of Mike’s throat, and he can’t help but glance down at his ridiculous outfit. God, he looks and feels like an idiot. But his mom had taken him shopping right before his trip, and honestly, Mike hadn’t… really wanted to show El his new sense of style inspired by Eddie. He wasn’t sure how she’d react to it or if she’d like it, so he went for the safer option.

So, maybe he’s changed too. Maybe Mike is just as different as the other party members and just as guilty of lying and finding new friends and shutting his old friends out. Maybe Mike is to blame for all of this, just as much as Max or Lucas or El or Will. 

A scream from the other side of the rink snaps Mike out of his thoughts, and he flinches, turning around. Likewise, Will does the same, and the two of them look around the skating rink, trying to find the source of the scream.

“Someone call 911!” a guy shouts from across the room. A crowd of people is quickly closing in on the scene, but there—there—standing in the middle of it is Eleven.

“Shit,” both Mike and Will whisper, turning to one another. They share a brief look of understanding, then in perfect sync, they both run towards the gathering crowd.

Mike’s heart is pounding inside his chest as he and Will run through the crowd, shoving past the different onlookers. As they run up to Eleven, Mike is finally able to see just what has happened, and his heart nearly stops. 

“H-holy shit,” he whispers, staring in shock at Angela’s bloodied face. “Holy shit.”

“Oh my God,” Will whispers.

“El.” Mike’s voice is trembling, and he turns to look at his girlfriend, his eyes wide. “What did you do? What did you do?!”

El says nothing in response, and so all Mike can do is stand there and watch as Angela cries even harder, the tears mixing in with the blood dripping down her face. That unsettled feeling in his stomach only worsens, and Mike dares to glance at Eleven again. Despite the tears dripping down her cheeks, there is no regret on her face. Her hand is trembling and clenched tightly around the bloodied roller skate.

She looks absolutely nothing like the girl Mike once knew—the brave, selfless superhero that he has known and loved for years for now. Just like everyone else in Mike’s life, Eleven is almost unrecognizable.

Chapter Text

Chapter Four 

The Mage

Something that Mike has always loved about the party is that each of them have a role to play on the team. 

Every single member of the party has something to bring to the group, and Mike stands by the fact that no one person can solve the group’s problems alone. They are strongest when they are working together and bringing their individual gifts and traits to the team.

There’s Dustin. When they play D&D, he’s always the party’s bard, but in real life, he plays that same type of role. If Mike can count on anyone to keep their spirits up, it’s Dustin. He’s the life of the party—literally. Without a doubt, Dustin is someone who can make Mike and all the others smile, even when they’re having a bad day. And more than just that, over the years, Dustin has quickly become the brain of the party. He’s the one who has figured out a majority of the mystery surrounding the Upside Down, and he’s the person Mike feels most comfortable making plans of action with. The party needs Dustin.

There’s Lucas. His character class is the ranger. In all the years that Mike and Lucas have known each other, Mike has known Lucas to be strongly, independent, and damn stubborn. He, of all the members of the party, is probably the most strong-willed and also fiercely protective over the people he loves. And sure, oftentimes this means that he and Lucas end up having differences of opinions, but at the end of the day, Mike knows that Lucas is always someone he can count on to fight for what’s right and to fight for the people he loves—like the other party members. The party needs Lucas.

There’s Max. A couple years ago, Mike knows he would have thrown a fit if someone had called Max a member of the party. She’s never played D&D with them before, and she doesn’t have an official class. She calls herself the party’s “zoomer,” and once upon a time, Mike would have gone to great lengths to explain to her why that name is stupid and unnecessary. But over the years, Max has shown her importance and value in the party. She is quick and adaptable, able to make difficult decisions and prioritize others’ safety even at the expense of her own. Like Lucas, she’s unbelievably stubborn but also deeply protective and willing to do whatever it takes to help the other party members. The party needs Max.

There’s Will, the party’s cleric. Will’s like… the glue that holds the entire party together. He, like Dustin and Max, can adapt to whatever situation is thrown at him, and somehow, he always manages to do it without ever complaining or making things about himself. Will has a way of making every member of the party feel valued and like they belong . He’s someone who, in times of high stress or arguments, can bring the calming voice of reason and mend whatever tension exists—even sometimes at the expense of his own thoughts and feelings. He is the most selfless of all of them and one of the reasons the party has stayed together for so many years. The party needs Will.

Then, there’s El. As Mike had once told Max, El is the party’s mage. She’s the most powerful out of all of them (for obvious reasons), and she is the one most willing to stand in the face of great evil with her arms outstretched, ready to do whatever it takes to protect the rest of them. She’s a fighter more than she is a planner, and without El, Mike and the other members of the party would be dead a dozen times over. She is the reason all of them are still alive and safe and able to be the party. Of everyone in the party, Eleven is the hero. She’s the reason why Will was rescued from the Upside Down. She saved Hawkins from the Mind Flayer by closing the gate. She’s the one who got through to Billy long enough for him to distract the Mind Flayer’s physical form. The party needs El. It has always needed El.

El, for all intents and purposes, is a superhero. To Mike, that’s who she has always been and always will be.

But now, sitting here in the aftermath of… God, Mike doesn’t even know how to describe what just happened. Sitting in the aftermath of all this shit with Angela? El doesn’t really feel like a superhero. There’s no way the same girl who nearly gave her life to protect them from the Demogorgon four years ago would do this. No, El is different. El has changed—and not for the better.

Honestly, it’s kind of scary, and Mike doesn’t know what to think about it.

Because no matter what, Mike cares about El. He loves her and always will. El has been such an important part of his life since the day they stumbled into her in the woods by Will’s house. There aren’t words to describe the impact that El has had on Mike—how she has changed him and protected him and helped him so much over the past years. El matters so much to him. She means the world to Mike.

And in a perfect world, the two of them would have stayed together, instead of being separated for nearly two years. They wouldn’t have had the chance to change so much and to drift apart. They could’ve faced high school and all its bullies and shit together, instead of having to do it alone. 

But this world is far from perfect, and unfortunately, no matter how hard Mike tries to hold on to what’s normal, things just keep changing and getting worse and worse.

The ride back to the Byers’ house is nothing short of painful. Mike finds himself sandwiched between El and Will, and neither of them say a word to him. El is clearly still dealing with the mental aftermath of her fight with Angela. Will is probably dealing with the mental aftermath of his fight with Mike. 

The only people who talk on the way back to the Byers’ place are Jonathan and Argyle. They reek of pot and are clearly high as fucking kites, so they say a bunch of stupid nonsense that clearly doesn’t help. Mike has half a mind to tell them to please just shut the fuck up, and a quick glance at Will, then El leads Mike to believe they also want Jonathan and Argyle to be quiet.

But none of them say anything, and so, the three of them are forced to suffer in silence as the two young adults start rambling on and on about the meaning of life and how rollerskating fits into that.

Finally—fucking finally—Argyle parks his car in front of a house, and Mike stands up, quickly opening the van door and jumping out. He hangs back, allowing El and Will to lead the way into their house, with Jonathan and Argyle following behind them. El opens the door, and immediately, the sound of loud opera music breaks through the painful silence.

“What the hell?” Will mutters as all of them hesitantly walk inside. “Mom?”

El leads the way towards the kitchen, and the music grows increasingly louder. Finally, she stops, and the rest of them follow suit, staring at… 

Murray?

“Well, well,” Murray chuckles, turning around to face them. He’s dressed in a ridiculous apron, has a towel thrown over his shoulder, and is holding a spoon full of… something, like he’s some 1950s housewife. “Aren’t you lot a sight for sore eyes, huh?”

“Hi, Murray!” Jonathan says brightly. Mike fights the urge to groan.

“You kids like risotto?” Murray asks, holding up the spoon with a grin. 

“Hell yeah,” Jonathan laughs, and Mike just glances at him, giving him a disbelieving look. He’s stoned out of his fucking mind, and there’s a dopey look on his face. There’s no way Joyce isn’t going to notice this.

“Well, great,” Murray says brightly. “Your mom is just cleaning up and dinner is almost ready, so how about you all just go take a seat at the table, hm?”

Mike smiles awkwardly, and he looks to one of the others to follow their lead. El turns away from Murray, briskly walking past the rest of them, while Jonathan and Argyle amble into the living room, collapsing onto the couch. That just leaves Will, who looks completely done with the situation, but walks into the kitchen and begins grabbing things to set the table regardless.

He also barely looks at Mike, and Mike can’t help but roll his eyes, following after Will. Neither one of them says anything to each other, but Mike takes the plates from Will, setting them down onto the table.

“I sense some tension here,” Murray muses. “Was it something I said?”

Mike just fights the urge to groan. It’s going to be a long damn night.

Dinner doesn’t get much better.

Joyce and Murray both clearly attempt to ease the awkwardness at the table without actually addressing it, and it’s just weird. Neither El, nor Will, seem very inclined to speak, whereas Argyle and Jonathan spend most of the meal quietly giggling and talking to each other. It’s a mess. All of this is a huge, fucking mess, and Mike’s caught up in the middle of it.

Then, Joyce drops the bombshell that she’s going to a conference in Alaska , of all places, and both El and Will seem to take personal offense to the fact that she’s leaving. Never mind the fact that the Byers have essentially been stuck in California for the past two years and strongly encouraged not to leave. It’s all… just weird. And a little suspicious. But Mike doesn’t say anything, and instead, he sits back as the others (namely Joyce) scramble to hold a conversation.

“We’ve just had a stressful day is all,” Jonathan reassures, blinking at his mom. 

“Oh, I’m sure you have,” Murray mutters. 

“Yeah, man, there was this girl at the skating rink,” Argyle says with a chuckle, and Mike tenses. Seriously, they’re bringing all this shit up already? Good God. Still, he's not going to make an effort to stop them. It's El's problem... not Mike's. Maybe that's unfair to say, but Mike is long past the point of caring. “She got schmacked in the head with a roller skate.”

“Smacked?” Murray echoes.

“Yeah, it was one of those vicious skate attacks,” Argyle confirms.

Murray looks like a cross between confused and intrigued. “Skate attacks?”

“But it wasn’t an ice skate,” Jonathan reassures. “It was… one of those… plastic. Plastic skates.”

“Rubber,” Argyle corrects.

“Right, rubber skates.” Jonathan nods. “Rubber. Rubber skates.”

“Anyway, I’m not sure,” Argyle says, and he absently pokes his food. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

“She didn’t look fine,” Mike can’t help but mutter under his breath.

There’s silence at the table, and Mike glares down at his food. Maybe the sarcastic comment was unnecessary, but really, he couldn’t help it. Angela didn’t look fine, because El literally hit her with a roller skate. Nothing about this is fine.

To his left, El slams her fork against the plate, and she quickly pushes her chair out from the table. “El,” Joyce starts to say, but El leaves before she can even finish. “Aren’t you going to eat your food?”

“Seriously, Mike?” Will hisses, and Mike glances up. There’s an exasperated look on the other boy’s face. “Was that really necessary?”

“Oh, sorry,” Mike says sarcastically. “I forgot we’re all lying or hiding things from each other now. Or just flat out ignoring each other.” 

Will’s face turns red, and he glares back at Mike. He opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can, Joyce interrupts, “Boys! What’s going on with all of you? What happened?”

There’s a brief moment where Will’s gaze is locked on Mike. He still seems frustrated and Mike still feels frustrated, but in spite of that, they share an understanding with each other: Don’t talk about what happened.

“Nothing, Mom,” Will reassures, looking away. “We’re all just… tired.”

“It’s been a long day,” Mike agrees quietly. “Sorry, Mrs. Byers.”

Joyce frowns, and she doesn’t quite look like she believes them. Still, she nods slightly. “Alright,” she says, her voice soft. “Well, finish your dinners, and then you can go rest for the night. Will, you showed Mike the guest room already, right? And the bathroom? And where to get anything he needs?”

“Yeah, Mom,” Will sighs, rubbing his temple. “It’s not that big of a house. I’m sure Mike can figure it out.” 

There’s a certain kind of edge in Will’s tone that makes Mike feel even worse, and he glares down at his food, absently poking it. Luckily, Joyce doesn’t press anymore, and Murray makes some stupid comment about whether or not they like the risotto. Naturally, Jonathan and Argyle join the conversation again, while Mike and Will retreat back into silence, picking at the rest of their dinners. 

Will is barely two feet away from Mike, and yet, he feels farther away than he has in years. Even when Will was in a fucking dimension from hell or possessed by an evil shadow monster, Mike still felt closer to him than he was now. Because back then, Mike knew Will could still be reached. Will could still be found. Will wanted to be found and brought back, and he needed them—needed Mike—to find him.

But now? Now, Will is gone again—off somewhere Mike has no idea how to get to. It’s like Mike has fucking lost him all over again, except actually he’s right fucking here, and Mike still can’t get to him. Even worse, Mike is fairly certain Will doesn’t want Mike to get to him. Will doesn’t want to be found or brought back; he doesn’t want to be around Mike.

Whatever happened in their friendship that last summer together in Hawkins might have damaged them beyond repair. And maybe… maybe now, Mike has actually lost Will. Maybe even for good this time.

The realization leaves an unsettled, sick feeling in Mike’s stomach. He pokes at his dinner absently and tries not to think too much about all this—about losing Will—but it’s difficult. Far too difficult.

Eventually, everyone finishes their dinner, and Jonathan and Argyle wander off to do… whatever the fuck it is they do. Will begins to gather up everyone’s plates from the table, and Joyce jumps in to help, throwing away food and used napkins.

“Will and I can take care of the dishes, Mrs. Byers,” Mike blurts out without even thinking about it.

Both Joyce and Will turn to look at him, wearing equally surprised looks. “Are you sure, Mike?” Joyce asks. “You’ve had a long day, and you’re our guest…”

Mike forces a weak smile. He doesn’t know why he volunteered for this… maybe to get a chance to talk to Will? But things are still awkward, and Mike still feels pissed off… so maybe not the best plan. Too late for that now.

“Pretty sure I stopped being a guest by the time I was like ten,” he says with a shrug. “I don’t mind helping. You… you probably need to pack for your trip tomorrow anyways.”

Joyce’s expression softens, and she smiles at Mike, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Okay, sweetheart,” she says softly. “It’s good to see you again. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Mike says with a weak smile. He grabs some of the plates from the table, walking them over to the kitchen sink. Joyce and Will have paused to talk to one another, and Mike glances over at them, watching Will’s body language carefully. He seems a bit more relaxed around his mom, but based on his expression, something—probably the mess of today’s events—is clearly still bothering him. 

“Well, well, well, Mike Wheeler.” Murray ambles up behind him, and Mike quickly looks away from the Byers, lest the older man notice him staring. “Longtime no see. You’ve grown up.”

Mike forces a smile. “Yep,” he says awkwardly. “That’s… kind of what happens to kids.”

Murray just gives him an amused look, before setting his plate into the sink. “Trouble in paradise?”

Mike tenses, and he shrugs lightly, staring down at the plate in his hands. “I guess,” he mutters. “We just… haven’t seen each other in so long. A lot has changed.”

“That’s kind of what happens to adults,” Murray says, echoing Mike’s previous statement. “Teens too, I suppose. You grow up… find some things out about yourself… what you like, what you don’t like… Things change. It’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

Mike snorts, setting the plate on the drying rack. “Yeah, well,” he mutters, “it hasn’t exactly been good in my experience.”

For a moment, Murray is just quiet, then he puts a hand on Mike’s shoulder. Mike scowls, looking up and meeting his eyes. “Sometimes, change is exactly what you need,” he says knowingly. “Otherwise, you’ll get stuck in relationships you aren’t meant to be in, trying to make things work long past their time.”

“But other times,” Murray adds, and he turns around, pulling Mike with him so that they’re now both facing Will, who has just entered the kitchen. “Sometimes, what you need is exactly what you’ve had for years now, and things shouldn’t really change. The fun part of life’s just figuring out which one is which.”

Will gives Mike a puzzled look, as if to say, What the hell is he talking about? Mike just shrugs, Dude, hell if I know.

“A word of advice, boys,” Murray says, and he reaches for Will, holding on to Mike’s shoulder with one hand and Will’s with the other. “There’s more to life than constant bickering and flitting around like you don’t know what you want. Take it from someone who’s lived life a little longer, okay? It’s all a load of bullshit and not worth losing people you care about over.”

Mike blinks, staring at Murray in complete surprise, and the older man just gives them both shit-eating smile. “It was good seeing you,” he says with a chuckle. “Hope you enjoyed the risotto.”

With that, Murray walks away, leaving only Mike and Will standing in the kitchen. Mike blinks again, still trying to process the older man’s words, and he slowly turns back to the sink.

“I… don’t know what just happened,” Mike admits, glancing over at Will.

Much to his surprise (and delight), Will glances back at Mike and offers a small smile. “Me either,” he agrees. “He’s probably just drunk.”

“Probably,” Mike chuckles, and he smiles back at Will. For a brief moment, the two of them stand there, eyes locked on one another, and it feels like there’s no one else in the room. It’s just Mike and Will, and it feels like nothing has changed.

Then, Will looks away, and a rush of disappointment fills Mike. That chasm grows between the two of them once more, and Mike is left standing on the edge, desperately hoping for some way to reach Will... and to fix things.

“We should get these washed,” Will says, his voice quiet.

“Sounds good,” Mike says softly. “I wash, you dry? Like old times?”

Once again, a small, genuine, and oh so Will smile forms on his face. “Just like old times,” he echoes, and in spite of it all, Mike smiles.

Sunday brings a new day, a new week, and a new perspective. 

It takes Mike a while to fall asleep on Saturday night. Honestly, too much had happened for him to even begin to process everything, and so, he had stayed up, tossing and turning in the little bed in the Byers’ guest bedroom for most of the night. Yeah, he’s exhausted now, but he can catch up on sleep later. Today is for redeeming the utter shitshow that was his arrival in California yesterday.

Mike has it all planned out. First, he’ll make El breakfast—Eggos, as a bit of a peace offering. Then, after breakfast, they’ll have a conversation and talk about what’s actually been going on with El over these past couple years. Mike will get the truth from her, and maybe he’ll tell her that it hurts to have been lied to. The two of them will work out whatever issues they have, and things will go back to normal, just like before.

Then after he talks to El, Mike will talk to Will for the same exact reasons. He’ll start with an apology—for their fight before the Mind Flayer, for their fight at Rink-O-Mania yesterday, and for the overall tension between them. Maybe Will also will apologize to Mike, considering he, too, has contributed to whatever weird tension exists between the two of them. They’ll talk about whatever is still causing this chasm between them and work out all their shit. Mike will affirm Will’s place in his life as his best friend, and the two of them will go back to the way they have always been.

And after all that, spring break will be saved. Mike will repair his two most important relationships and finally feel okay again, and the three of them will have the best week together. Simple as that. His plan is foolproof.

Of course, nothing ever goes according to Mike’s plans, so uh… yeah, he should’ve seen that coming.

Step one goes incredibly wrong when El does not come down for breakfast that morning. Both Mike and Will sit in silence, absently eating their breakfasts, and Mike glances forlornly at the plate of waffles on the table. Surely, the waffles are starting to get cold, and that’s not going to help this whole “fix Mike and El’s relationship” plan. 

“Hey, guys,” Jonathan says, and both Mike and Will look up. “Looks like there’s a few movies playing this afternoon that sound interesting… Could be fun.”

Will winces, absently poking at his food, and Mike just looks back down. “Maybe… we just stay home today,” Will suggests quietly. 

“What is this?” Jonathan asks. It’s obvious he’s just trying to help, and he seems a lot more like the Jonathan that Mike remembers from Hawkins. “You guys just gonna mope around all break?”

“No one’s moping,” Will sighs. Mike glances up, meeting his best friend’s eyes for a brief moment. Fortunately, Will seems less upset today, which bodes well for the second half of Mike’s plan… if he can ever get to the first half. “It’s just… yesterday was a long day. Maybe we can just watch movies at home.”

Jonathan sighs in exasperation, and Mike offers Will a tiny, grateful smile, before turning to look at El’s plate. Screw it. El clearly isn’t going to come to them, so Mike is just going to have to go to her.

Without another word, Mike stands and grabs El’s plate, walking upstairs to her room. The door is open—three inches, he notices—and Mike knocks quietly. “Hey, El,” he says, peeking his head in. “I… I made you some Eggos, but they’re getting kinda cold.”

El doesn’t respond. Mike can’t help but frown to himself, and he opens the door even more, slowly walking into her room. Despite Mike’s clear presence in the room, El still says nothing, and he winces, trying again to get her to speak. “Hey, that’s cool,” Mike says with a weak smile. “Hop’s cabin, right?”

This time, El nods, but she still doesn’t speak. At least she’s acknowledged his presence now, and Mike sets the plate of Eggos down on her desk, before taking a seat on the bed. There’s a palpable kind of tension in the room, and Mike closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. Might as well just rip the bandaid off.

“So… um… are we just not going to talk about it?” he says, trying his best to act casual.

Finally, El speaks, but her voice is flat and disinterested. “About what?” 

Frustration rises in Mike’s chest, but he forces it down. “I don’t know… just… maybe about like yesterday, or… or everything.”

“There’s nothing to say,” comes El’s response, and Mike looks up at the ceiling, fighting the urge to snap. The frustrated feelings from before come rising closer and closer to the surface, and they’re almost suffocating. 

“She’s been lying to you, Mike,” Will’s voice echoes through Mike’s mind, and he swallows the lump in his throat. 

“Friends don’t lie.”

“Do you lie?”

“Yeah, well, I guess… um… I guess I don’t really understand,” Mike says, shaking his head. “Why didn’t you tell me what’s going on here? Why… why did you lie to me? I mean… you know I’m not exactly Mr. Popularity back home. I mean… you’ve seen it. I’ve been bullied my entire life. I… I know what it’s like.”

And I could’ve helped. I could’ve been there for you. The words hang on the end of his sentence, but for some reason, Mike doesn’t say them. The pit in his stomach just grows deeper. 

“No,” El says quietly, and Mike looks up. “You don’t.”

Mike’s brow furrows. “Um… oh… okay. What don’t I understand?”

There’s silence in the room for several uncomfortable moments. Then, El softly says, “I am different. I do not belong.”

“In… in Lenora?” Mike asks quietly. 

“Anywhere.” Finally, El turns around to look at him, and there are tears in her eyes. 

The words feel like a punch in the gut, and Mike shakes his head. “Come on, El,” he says softly. “You… you can’t actually believe that.”

“Everyone… except my family looks at me like… like I’m a monster,” El whispers. Tears drip down her face; each word she says feels like a knife in the heart.

“Everyone else doesn’t know you,” Mike reminds. “Not like we do.”

“You think I’m a monster too,” El accuses, and for the first time, she looks Mike directly in the eye. There are a million different emotions on her face—sadness, anger, resentment—and Mike feels completely floored.

“Wait… what?” Mike whispers.

“Yesterday,” El says quietly, tears welling in her eyes.  “The way you looked at me. You… you were scared of me.” 

Blood dripping down Angela’s face.

Angela sobbing as people screamed for help.

“Holy shit. El. What did you do? What did you do?”  

“No, no, that’s… that’s just not true,” Mike stammers defensively. His heart pounds restlessly inside his chest, and he finds himself stumbling over his words. “I’m not… I’m not scared of you, El. I was just… surprised. Maybe I was a little upset in the moment, but I mean… I mean, I’m sorry! I didn’t know what to do; it was just all so crazy… And it happened so fast, but it… it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t matter. I… I care for you so much, El. So much.”

Somehow, El’s expression turns even more heartbroken, and she closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. “Care,” she echoes quietly, finally looking at Mike. “But you don’t… you don’t love me anymore.”

It’s a statement, not a question.

Mike flinches. “Who… who says I didn’t?”

A broken laugh escapes El’s lips. “You never say it, Mike!”

Mike’s head feels like it’s running a million miles an hour, and he finds himself trying to replay every phone call with El, every letter sent to her… He says it. Of course, he does. El is his girlfriend. Why wouldn’t he say it? 

“I say it,” Mike insists, and he meets El’s eyes once more. “I say it.”

Once again, El just laughs brokenly. “You can’t even write it, Mike!” she cries, standing up and grabbing a pile of letters from a nearby box. She begins to read off of them, “From Mike, from Mike, from Mike, from, from, from—”

Every single word is a gut punch, and Mike feels his face grow hot with shame. His heart is pounding inside his chest, and he scrambles to find the right words to say. “Okay, okay, Eleven, stop, just stop,” he says weakly. “You… you know how I feel about you!”

El looks at him, tears still in her eyes. “Do I, Mike?” she whispers. “Do I really?” 

“What… what is that supposed to mean?” Mike says, staring at her in a shock. “You… you know what I think, El! I-I think you’re the most incredible person in the world! And-and I’ve always thought that, since the day I met you! It… it doesn’t matter what these mouthbreathers say; you can’t let them ruin you, or ruin us! They’re nobodies. And you’re a superhero. You’re a superhero, El.”

For the longest time, El just stares back at him, and the two of them are stuck at a standstill, unsure of what else to say to one another. Mike swallows the lump in his throat, trying his best to ignore the rising feeling of dread in his heart, and he doesn’t let himself look away from his girlfriend.

“Is that… is that all you see me as?” El whispers, her voice cracking.

Mike’s breath catches in the back of his throat. “W-what?” 

“A superhero,” El repeats. Her voice is trembling, but she gives Mike the most steely, distant stare. “Is that all you see me as? A superhero.”

“I… I don’t… I’m not…” Mike closes his eyes, forcing himself to take a breath before he whispers, “Why does it matter?”

It’s the wrong thing to say, and Mike knows it the second the words come out of his mouth. Still, the words feel more genuine than anything else that he can think of saying, and maybe that’s... maybe that's telling of his relationship with El.

El just exhales slowly, once again going quiet for several moments. Mike doesn’t dare to look at her; instead, he stares at the ground, his face hot with shame. “If you have to ask that, Mike, then we both know what your answer is,” she says, her voice impossibly quiet. 

Finally, Mike looks back up, and the two meet eyes again. “Eleven…”

“I’m not a superhero anymore,” El says shakily. There’s a pained expression on her face. “I’m not. So… what does that mean for us then?”

There it is. The question that is at the heart of this entire conversation. There are a million things that Mike should say, but he just can’t bring himself to. It’s like his mouth just won’t work anymore. 

El nods slowly, and she finally looks away. “That’s what I thought too,” she says quietly. The words feel like a knife in the heart.

“El,” Mike whispers, but before he can say anything else, the doorbell rings downstairs. El turns back around, her brow furrowed, and both she and Mike glance at her bedroom door.

There are muffled voices coming from downstairs, so El walks past Mike, slowly making her way out of the room and back downstairs. With a frown, Mike follows her, trying to listen in to the conversation. 

“—may or may not be aware of an incident last night involving Jane at the Rink-O-Mania,” an unfamiliar male voice says, and shit, shit, shit.

El tenses as she gets to the bottom of the steps, and Will turns around, his eyes wide and panicked. He shakes his head slightly, his expression clearly saying, Go back upstairs now! On instinct, Mike reaches for El’s arm to pull her out of the line of sight, but it’s too late.

“Hey, there,” one of the police officers says, and Mike curses under his breath. “You Jane Hopper?”

Fuck, Mike thinks to himself. The police officers waste no time, brushing past Jonathan and going over to El. As they begin to read the Miranda Rights and cuff El, Mike can only stand there in shock. 

This can’t be happening. This is bad—like really, really bad. El isn’t supposed to be alive, and if somehow, any government employees find out about her… there’s no telling what they’ll do to her. Maybe try and lock her up again in a lab, or… or something even worse.

The officers pull El out of the house, and all at once, it’s like everyone is unfrozen. “Can you please just tell us where you’re taking her?” Jonathan asks desperately, hurrying after the officers and El. 

Both Mike and Will run after the officers and El too, and Mike clenches his fists, glaring at the officers. “Are the cuffs really necessary?” he snaps. “Come on, officers; talk to me. Hey!”

Mike receives no response from the asshole officers, and he fights the urge to deck one of them in the face. There’s no sense in both of them ending up in prison. “Eleven, Eleven, listen to me,” he says quickly, pressing his face against the cop car window. “Eleven, will you please look at me?” 

El does finally look at Mike, but that resigned, broken look on her face has returned. “I-I’m going to fix this,” Mike promises, his voice cracking. “You’re going to be okay; I promise. We’ll figure it out, okay? Just trust me, okay? I promise I’ll fix this, Eleven! I promise!”

The cops turn on their sirens and begin to pull away from the Byers’ house, and Mike tries to keep up for a few feet before it becomes clear that he won’t be able to catch up with them. With no other options, he finally stops in the middle of the sidewalk, staring after the cop car in complete shock.

“Shit,” Will whispers, running up to stand with Mike. “Shit, this is bad. Oh God, oh God…”

Mike doesn’t say anything, and he just stands there, breathing heavily and watching as the officers and El drive off. His heart is pounding inside his chest, the world around him is spinning, and he feels like he can’t breathe.

“What does that mean for us then?”

“I promise I’ll fix this, Eleven! I promise!” 

If he’s being completely honest, Mike knows that he wasn’t just talking about her arrest—he was also talking about their relationship. And deep down, Mike gets the feeling El knew that as well.

Which makes it hurt all the more to have seen the look that Eleven had given him: a look of resignation and of hurt… 

It was the look of someone who didn’t believe a word Mike was saying.

“Friends don’t lie.”

Well, apparently, now they do.

Chapter Text

Chapter Five

Dear El, Dear Will

October 25, 1986

Dear El,

Oh my God, you have no idea how good it is to hear from you! Like holy shit, this is insane. I’ve missed you so much over the past couple years. It feels like the year I lost you all over again, and that really, really sucks. 

I’m glad that you’re safe though. I know that all of this is necessary to keep you (and Will and everyone else) safe, so as much as it sucked not being able to talk to you, I’m glad that you’re safe and doing well. But California?! That’s crazy! I can’t believe Owens sent you guys to California! Where is Lenora? Is it close to L.A.? Or the beach? Or Disneyland? That would be so cool.

Things are going well here in Hawkins too. My family is pretty much the same. Holly is in 2nd grade now, and she’s losing teeth left and right. She’s the best and really the only person still at home that isn’t annoying. My mom is fine, but she’s my mom. And my dad just sucks most of the time.

Nancy started college this year, and it’s been weird not having her around. She originally wanted to go to some fancy school in Boston, but then, she ended up getting a scholarship to this college in Chicago! Honestly, I’m kind of relieved. Chicago is only three or so hours away, so a lot closer than Boston. Me and Nancy, we’ve actually gotten closer over the past year, so it would’ve sucked having her that far away. 

The party is doing alright too! Max is still Max, so we don’t talk that much. I think she’s still struggling with Billy’s death and all that happened afterwards. I bet she’d appreciate hearing from you too, now that you can contact all of us again. Lucas joined the basketball team, which is really, really weird, but he seems happy. We don’t see each other as much anymore, but we still hang out at Hellfire Club.

Oh, and speaking of Hellfire Club, Dustin and I started going to this D&D (Dungeons and Dragons, remember?) club every week. It’s run by this really cool senior named Eddie Munson, and he’s the best. Dustin and I freaking love him. He’s kind of weird but in a good way… like us. If you ever come back to Hawkins, I’ll have to introduce you to him. 

As for me, I think I’m doing okay. I’m surviving. High school sucks, but that’s no surprise. The classes are a lot harder—especially Spanish and science. I’ve always sucked at foreign language classes, and Will used to help me with science… so that’s a little rough. The people aren’t the best either, but I think I’ve found my group. It’s nice to be part of something.

I hope California is treating you well! Can’t wait to hear from you soon.

From,

Mike

Mike takes a deep breath, leaning back against his chair. There. That was easy enough and took like no time at all. Honestly, he’s even a little surprised at how quickly he was able to fill up the page with his thoughts and different things to share with El. In no time at all, Mike had been able to finish his first letter to his girlfriend. 

With a small smile, Mike folds the letter and carefully places it into the envelope, writing Will’s name and address on the front. Surely, since Will and El will check who the letter is meant for before really reading it, especially since they know that Mike has to address all his letters to Will. But just for good measure, he draws a little heart next to Will’s name. There. Now, they’ll definitely be able to distinguish El’s letters from Will’s.

Speaking of Will’s letter…

Mike glances at the half-written letter to Will, and he winces, tapping his pencil against his desk. He’d actually started Will’s letter before starting El’s letter, thinking it’d probably be faster and easier than the one for El. In reality though, writing Will’s letter had proven to be… far more difficult than Mike could have ever imagined.

Probably because he couldn’t even bother to write to you, the nagging voice in the back of his head points out. So, why should you?

It’s a fair point. The only letter Mike had received had clearly been from El, despite being signed from both El and Will. Other than the signature and Will’s handwriting, there had been no indication that Will had put any effort into the letter. No updates about his life, no questions, no inside jokes… Nothing. 

If Mike is being completely honest, it hurts. He hasn’t heard from Will in over a year , and Will doesn’t even really say anything to him in the letter? It hurts.

But then again, Will has always been a selfless person, so he probably just wanted to give El and Mike the space to reunite first. He knows how important El is to Mike, so maybe he’s just letting El take the lead here, so she and Mike can talk to each other. That makes sense, right? It feels like something Will would do. 

If that’s the case, then Mike definitely needs to write a letter to Will too. He’s probably just waiting for Mike to initiate whatever form of communication they decide on, so of course, Mike needs to send Will a letter too.

Apparently though, that’s easier said than done. Still, he has to at least try, so with another deep breath, Mike begins to write the rest of his note.

Dear Will,

Hey, how’s it going? It’s Mike… but you probably already knew that, right? I mean… my name and address are on the envelope, so duh, you knew that.

Um. Anyways, how’s life been? How are you? It’s been too long since we’ve talked! Not that that was your fault or anything. I know Owens had that no contact rule to keep all of you safe, so I don’t mind. I’m glad you and El are both safe, even if I wish you guys were here. Hawkins is so different without you around. Honestly, it kind of sucks.

Sorry. I don’t mean to be such a downer, especially since we haven’t talked in so long. God, I probably sound like such a whiny prick. Things aren’t that bad, even though they’re so different. I don’t know about you, but I hate high school. It’s just like middle school only there’s more homework and a lot more people making out in the hallway. 

Freshman year was pretty weird. At first, me, Lucas, and Dustin stuck together like we always do. Max stuck around for a couple months, but then she just kind of disappeared. She shows up every now and then but doesn’t talk much to us anymore. And Lucas ended up joining the basketball team—crazy, right? So he hangs out with those pricks a lot, and we don’t see him as much anymore either. It… honestly kind of sucks.

We’re all part of this D&D club together though, so there’s that at least. We’re called the Hellfire Club (don’t ask me why, considering the Hellfire Club kind of sucks and also they’re the bad guys? Whatever, it sounds cooler I guess), and there’s this senior named Eddie who is literally the coolest person you’ll ever meet. Like holy shit, Will. He’s our DM, and his campaigns are absolutely INSANE. 

One of these days, maybe you’ll be able to come back to Hawkins, and I’m going to introduce you guys. Eddie would love you, and I think you’d love him too! And maybe we can get the rest of Hellfire together so we can all do a campaign or something. That’d be cool, right? Dustin and I can make you a shirt and everything, so you can be like an honorary member!

Geez, sorry… I, ah… guess I’m getting ahead of myself. Anyways. I hope you’re doing okay. I hope California’s great as El made it sound. I miss you. And I hope we get to see each other soon.

Love,

Mike

Mike swallows the lump in his throat, and he stares down at the finished letter to Will. For some reason, his heart is beating restlessly inside his chest, and there’s a fluttery feeling inside his stomach. The letter is written, but it’s… it’s not great. There are still things that Mike still wants to say to Will—a lot of things actually—that he just feels like he can’t. And yet at the same time, it kind of feels like he’s said too much. Is it weird to tell Will that he’s missed him so much? Or that Hawkins isn’t the same without him? Is Mike just overthinking all of this?

Mike groans, throwing his head back and looking up at the ceiling. Why is this so damn difficult? It’s Will, for God’s sake. It’s just Will. Since when has Mike not known what to say to Will? He’s known Will for over a decade. It’s never been difficult to talk to Will.

Not until now, at least.

Once again, Mike looks down at the piece of paper on his desk, and he shakes his head, grabbing the letter and crumpling it up. He’ll figure out what he wants to say to Will tomorrow or… some other time. 

Besides, it’s not like Will had anything to say to Mike either.

March 29, 1987

“I… I’m sorry,” Jonathan says, his voice full of exasperation. He looks as stressed as Mike currently feels, and he glares daggers at these so-called ‘friends of Owens.’ “I guess I’m just having trouble understanding all of this. I mean, what exactly is going on in Hawkins? What’s doing these killings?”

The government lady gives them a look that’s half calm and half annoyed, and Mike fights the urge to roll his eyes. “That’s what we’re currently trying to ascertain.”

“And El?” Will asks, beating Mike to it. “Where is our sister? Is she okay?”

Annoying government lady looks sympathetic now. “For her safety, it’s best you don’t know,” she replies calmly. “But yes, Eleven is okay.”

“This… this is insane.” Mike shakes his head, looking at both Jonathan and Will. “God, please tell me I’m not the only one who thinks this is fucking insane .”

Jonathan just pinches the bridge of his nose but says nothing in response. Will, on the other hand, nods in agreement. There’s worry clearly written all over Will’s face and fear in his eyes. “None of this sounds like a good idea,” he points out, looking back at the government lady. “I mean… how long is this ‘training’ even going to take?”

Government lady winces. “It could take weeks… could take months.”

“Months?!” Mike and Will exclaim in unison, and Mike glances over at him briefly, before standing up and pacing around the room. 

(What. the. fuck. Months? Are they serious right now? Months?)

“Until then, agents Harmon and Wallace will stay with you,” stupid fucking government lady says sharply. 

Mike stops in his tracks, and he stares at the three government ages. “What? No! We’re not the ones in danger!”

“Yeah, our friends are in Hawkins!” Will agrees.

“My family is in Hawkins,” Mike emphasizes. “This is fucking crazy! We’re just supposed to sit here and let them die?”

“Nobody else is going to die,” the government lady says firmly. Her tone leaves no room for argument. “I’ll work to contain the situation until Eleven is ready. In the meantime, it is of vital importance that you do not speak to anyone about this.”

Mike just scoffs, shaking his head. “No. No way. You… you can’t expect us to just sit here a-and do nothing!”

Once again, stupid government lady gives him a look. “I know this is difficult to understand—”

“It’s not just difficult,” Will argues, piggybacking off of Mike’s own statements. “It’s impossible. El’s our sister, so we deserve to know where she’s at! And-and we have people we love and care about in Hawkins, so we can’t just—”

“You can, and you will ,” the government lady says sharply. She stands to her feet, giving both Mike and Will a frustrated look. “There are factions of this government working directly against Eleven, and who are, in fact, searching for her as we speak. You want to keep your sister safe? Then, this is the best way. We can’t risk contact. If they learned about any of this, it would jeopardize Eleven. And if Eleven is jeopardized, then so are your friends, and so is your family.”

Will runs a hand over his face, clearly stressed, while Mike just glares at the agents. “So what?” he sneers. “We’re just… we’re supposed to trust you then? Trust that you’re the good guys here? Whoever you are?”

“We’re friends of Owens,” the government lady says, her voice softer. Out of the corner of his eye, Mike notices Will tense ever so slightly. “Eleven trusted us. Now, we’re asking you to do the same.”

Mike glances at Jonathan, then at Will. Both of them wear similar looks of resignation on their faces, and Mike swallows the lump in his throat. They’re both probably thinking the same thing as he is—that they don’t really have a choice here. What else can they do but trust these people?

Clearly, stupid government lady recognizes this as well, because a satisfied look forms on her face. “Here,” she says, reaching into coat pocket and pulling out an envelope. “For you.”

Mike blinks, and his breath catches in the back of his throat as he takes the letter. His name is written on the front, and that’s most definitely El’s handwriting. 

Without saying another word to the others, Mike quickly leaves the room, and he walks upstairs to the guest bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. His hands are trembling as he tears open the envelope and takes the letter out.

Dear Mike,

I have gone to become a superhero again.

From,

El

A lump forms in Mike’s throat, and he holds the letter in his hand so tightly that he thinks it might rip.

“And you’re a superhero. You’re a superhero, El.”

“Is that… is that all you see me as?”  

Mike closes his eyes tightly, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest and the way he can’t breathe . And God , all of this is too much, it’s too overwhelming, and Mike knows he’s fucked up—like majorly fucked up—with El this time.

“You can’t even write it, Mike.”

“So… what does that mean for us then?”

And the worst part of it all is… is that Mike still doesn’t know what to think about all of this. He… he should feel sad, right? And he does. He does . He doesn’t want to lose El, and he certainly doesn’t want her to be put in any danger. 

But that question she had asked before? The one about only being able to see her as a superhero? God, Mike doesn’t even know how to begin to process that question or any of its implications on what’s left of their relationship.

And… and then there’s the “from Mike” debacle.

There’s… there’s no way that Mike hasn’t said it. There’s no way. Of course, he loves El. El is his girlfriend, and Mike cares about her and would do anything for her. He had to have said it at some point. He had to. Of course, Mike has said it.

But you couldn’t say it to her today, that nagging, critical voice in the back of his mind points out. So, do you really love her? Or do you just think you do?

Mike takes a shuddered breath, opening his eyes again and staring down at the letter. There’s barely a dozen words on the paper, but they speak volumes. 

From El.

From Mike.

Some pair they are.

Of course, I do, Mike thinks, and he blinks back the tears in his eyes.  Of course, I do.

It’s forced conformity. For some reason, Eddie’s mantra echoes through Mike’s mind. That’s what’s killing the kids, Wheeler.

Mike clenches his hands around the letter, staring down at the words once more. I’ll fix this, he thinks. I’ll fix this.

(Somehow, just like El, Mike isn’t sure he believes himself anymore.)

Mike hardly sleeps that night. 

It’s the second night in the row that he’s barely gotten any sleep, and if he’s being completely honest with himself, he feels like a frazzled, overwhelmed, and all around anxious mess . Not only that, but Mike is pissed. Pissed that all of this is happening, pissed at the stupid government is hunting El down, pissed that stupid Owens and his stupid friends won’t let them see El, pissed that the fucking Upside Down just won’t leave them alone—

Needless to say, sleep evades Mike for most of the night.

But being up late at night does give him some time to sort out the messiness of all his emotions though, so that’s a good thing. Right here, right now, there is nothing that Mike can do to fix his relationship with El. It’s a shitty situation to be in, and God, when (if) they ever see each other again, he knows he’ll have a lot of making up to do. But right now, there’s nothing Mike can do about this mess.

But there is something he can do about the mess of his relationship with Will.

Before everything went to shit, that had been Mike’s plan anyways, right? Talk to El and fix things, then talk to Will and fix things. Resolve whatever problems lingered between Mike and the two people he cares the most about, so he can actually have a decent spring break.

Okay, well so much for a decent spring break, but a conversation with Will is still a must.

So, with a new sense of resolve, Mike throws El’s letter into the trash and puts that problem out of sight, out of mind. He takes a quick shower just to wake up more and grabs a piece of toast downstairs from the kitchen, before wandering back up to the second floor of the Byers’ house and to Will’s room. He’s hardly spent any time in Will’s room since he’s been here; after all, the two of them have been stuck in this weird limbo since Mike’s arrival in California. Add in all the shit with El… and they haven’t really had much time to spend together.

Mike takes a deep breath, and he knocks on Will’s door. There’s a brief pause, then Will calls, “Come in!”

“Hey,” Mike says softly, opening the door and walking in.

Will looks up from his desk, a surprised look on his face. “Hey,” he says, sounding a bit hesitant. “What’s up?”

Mike gives him an awkward smile, and he stands in the middle of the room. “Nothing,” he says, trying to ignore the stupid, fluttery feeling in his stomach. “Just, uh… figured we could talk, you know. And um… hang out.”

Idiot, the voice in the back of his head whispers.

Shut up.

A smile forms on Will’s face, and he nods. “Y-yeah, of course,” he says, motioning to his bed.

Mike offers him another awkward smile in return, taking a seat on the edge of Will’s bed. “I like your room,” he remarks, looking around and admiring the posters and pieces of art hung on Will’s walls. “It’s nice.” 

“Thanks,” Will says softly. There’s a smile on his face, and he, too, looks around. “I think I like it better than my room back in Hawkins.”

“Yeah?” Mike turns to him, a curious look on his face.

Will just shrugs. “Yeah, I mean… I spent so much time… hiding in my room… back in Hawkins… in the Upside Down, I mean. I guess it just… sometimes brings back bad memories. It’s been kind of nice here in Lenora… sort of like a fresh start.”

The words feel like a punch in the gut, and Mike’s breath catches in the back of his throat. He… he should feel happy, right? He should feel happy for Will. Will… he’s finally gotten the chance to escape all of Hawkins’ problems—all the ghosts and trauma that have haunted him since that fateful day he was taken by the Demogorgon. Mike should be happy for Will.

But all he feels is a sick feeling of dread and hurt.

Maybe Will has moved on from Hawkins… from you.

Maybe he doesn’t need you anymore.

“That… that’s great, Will,” Mike finally manages to get out. He can’t even force himself to smile. “I… I’m happy for you.”

A pained smile forms on Will’s face, and he shrugs lightly. “It doesn’t matter now anyways though,” he says, his voice quiet. “I mean… with everything that’s happening… we’re going to get dragged back into all of this. It feels inevitable at this point.”

Mike can’t help the quiet scoff that escapes his mouth. “Yeah,” he says, shaking his head. “Feels like there’s always something, huh?”

“Can’t catch a break.” Will smiles wryly, and he stands to his feet. “I just… I don’t think those government agents down there get it. They’re going to try and contain this? Come on, like you can contain any of this without El!”

At the mention of his (ex?) girlfriend, Mike winces, looking down at his hands. “Right,” he agrees. “You’re right.” 

There’s silence in the room, then Will sits down next to Mike on the bed. “Mike,” he says softly, and Mike glances up, meeting his best friend’s eyes.

He suddenly becomes more aware of how close Will is—closer than he has been in nearly two years, close enough for Mike to feel the warmth radiating off of him, close for Mike to smell the faint smell of whatever body wash or deodorant that Will has used since they were younger, and close enough that Mike can just reach out and hug him tight, like nothing has changed at all. He’s so damn close, and Mike feels completely breathless. 

“She’s going to be okay,” Will reassures gently. “It’s El. She’ll be okay.” 

Mike swallows the lump in his throat. “I know,” he says, nodding slightly. “I know… I’m just… worried about her. That’s all.”

“El’s strong,” Will reminds. “She’ll be alright. She’s not in Hawkins… That’s what we should be worried about.”

There’s a slight tremor to his voice, and Mike’s brow furrows. “You don’t trust Owens?”

A small frown form’s on Will’s face, and he shrugs. “No, no… I mean… I don’t know… He… he’s been good to us these past two years… good to El , but… he wasn’t able to protect me… or help me. That was you guys who saved me. That was you .”

There’s a genuine but shy look on Will’s face as he says those words, and Mike feels the warmth spread to his cheeks at the memory. 

Do you remember the first day we met?

…You said yes. You said yes.

It was the best thing I’ve ever done.

Sitting here, across from Will and closer than the two of them have been in nearly two years, Mike thinks that asking Will that simple question still might be the best thing he’s ever done.

So, Mike just returns the smile, lightly bumping Will’s shoulder. “Looks like it’s going to be up to us to save the world again,” he says dryly.

Will just laughs, his eyes crinkling ever so slightly, and that fluttery feeling in Mike’s stomach returns again. This is how it’s supposed to be with Will. Inside jokes and genuine conversations and the comfort that comes with knowing a person for over ten years. God, Mike missed this. He needed this, more than he even realized.

“It always is,” Will replies softly.

Before Mike can say anything in return, a familiar voice says, “Which is why we can’t stay here.”

Mike flinches sharply, and both he and Will turn around to look at Jonathan. Will’s older brother gives them a wry smile, before sitting on Will’s desk chair and pulling it up to the bed. “Look,” Jonathan says, “let’s assume these ‘friends of Owens’ are telling the truth. We can’t call Hawkins without alerting the military, putting El in danger. Fine. We’ll just go to them.”

“Go to Hawkins,” Mike says slowly.

“How?” Will asks, his voice full of disbelief. 

Jonathan just scoffs. “What are you worried about? Ponch and Jon out there? They’re half-asleep right now watching golf.” 

“No, Jonathan,” Will says, and he shakes his head, frowning slightly. “I mean, we don’t have a car or money…”

A smirk forms on Jonathan’s face. “Then we’ll hail ourselves a ride,” he says simply. He holds up a piece of paper, and Mike leans forward, trying to read what it says.

It’s an ad… for pizza— Argyle! Of course.

“A cheap one,” Jonathan adds with a smug smile. “And then we’ll get the hell out of California.”

Mike raises an eyebrow, and somehow in perfect sync, he and Will both turn to look at one another.

What do you think? Will’s expression seems to say. 

I think it’s the best we can do, Mike tries to say back.

Will just nods slightly, then he turns to Jonathan, a mischievous smirk forming on his face. “Alright… let’s order some pizza then.”

Thirty minutes or less.

That’s what Surfer Boy Pizza promised them. In thirty minutes or less, their delivery driver (Argyle) will arrive at the Byers’ home with their pizza and their ticket out of Lenora.

Which means that Mike has thirty minutes to pack his shit and get ready to go.

On the plus side, Mike hasn’t really unpacked since he got to California. He really just has to pack his toiletries and the clothes that he’s already worn, and he’ll be ready to go. It should be pretty simple.

And yet somehow, Mike finds it difficult to shove all of his shit into the little duffel bag. His mom had helped him pack his bag on the days leading up to spring break, and somehow through her motherly magic, she had managed to get everything to fit. Mike’s attempts at getting everything shoved back into the bag are just downright sad, and he groans, throwing the bag down in frustration.

Alright. Maybe he just needs to take a couple things out and reorganize everything. That should be fairly simple.

So, Mike takes the plastic bag full of dirty clothes out of his bag, adjusting some of his other clothes and shoes to make more room. In the process, his hand brushes against a small object, carefully wrapped in brown packaging paper, and Mike wants to facepalm.

How is he such an idiot?

Will’s present, holy shit. Mike had literally forgotten about it until right now. Between the rollercoaster of emotions in his reunion with El and Will and the chaos of Rink-O-Mania and then the shit with Hawkins, Will’s present had unfortunately gotten lost in the fray. By now, the present is over a week late, but better late than never, right?

Yeah. Better late than never. There’s not much time left to give Will his present now , but they’ll have an entire cross country trip to talk and for Mike to give to him. 

Finally, Mike manages to shove the rest of his things into his duffel bag, and he stands, walking back into Will’s room. He sets his bag down on the floor and takes a seat on the bed, right as Will looks up and asks, “You’re packed already?”

Mike just shrugs. “Yeah, I mean… I never really unpacked, you know?” he says, and Will nods, before turning back to his own bag. 

The tension from the past few days is less noticeable now, but Mike still feels the guilt weighing heavy on his heart. He needs to apologize to Will—for everything. If they’re going to save the world, Mike and Will need to be on the same page—need to be a team again. Mike and Will have always been a team, and he’s always relied on and needed Will.

“Hey, um,” Mike says quietly. “By the way, I… I, uh… I wanted to apologize.”

Will stiffens, and he turns around slightly, shaking his head. “No, no, you don’t have to say anything,” he says, his voice soft. “You were right… I… I was being a total douche to you and to El, so I deserved it.” 

A fierce sense of protectiveness surges within Mike, and he frowns. “No, that’s not… no, you didn’t deserve that. Any of it,” he promises. 

Once again, Will turns to face him. There’s an unsure look on his face, as if he doesn’t quite believe Mike, and somehow, that hurts even more. “Listen… Will,” Mike says softly. “I, um… The truth is… these past couple years have been… weird. Like… really weird.”

Mike takes a shuddered breath, fiddling with the hem of his jacket. “I don’t really know how to explain it,” he says with a weak shrug. “But things just… have been so different… Hawkins is different. And it’s… it’s not the same without you. I mean… yeah, Max a-and Lucas and Dustin… they’re great and all, but Hawkins isn’t… it’s just not Hawkins… not without you.”

Mike glances down for a moment and takes another breath. His heart is completely pounding inside his chest, and he feels so damn nervous that he might throw up… But the look on Will’s face keeps him going. 

“And I… I don’t know,” Mike admits softly. The words come spilling out of him—faster than he can even process, a bit reckless but oh so honest. More honest than... than Mike's been in years. “I feel like maybe… maybe I’ve been worrying about El too much… I mean, even before you moved away… And I… I feel like maybe… I lost you or something. Does… does that make sense?” 

Will still stares at him with that look that’s both surprised and touched, and he nods slightly, meeting Mike’s eyes once more. Mike just gives him a shy smile. “I guess… I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry… And that I… I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I do know… that whatever it is… I don’t want to face it without you. And… I think we should work together, as a team… as friends.”

Mike pauses, relieved to see Will nodding in agreement, and he smiles, softly adding, “Best friends.”

Will just nods again, and he smiles—a shy but genuine and so very Will smile. The fluttery feeling inside Mike’s stomach returns, and for just a moment, it feels like nothing else in the world matters. The rest of the world might be going to shit, but finally, he and Will are on the same page again.

It’s an incredible feeling.

“Cool,” Will whispers, blinking back a few tears. He looks like he might say more, but before he can, he’s interrupted by the sound of tires screeching outside.

Mike’s brow furrows; he glances at his watch. “That was fast.”

Will laughs quietly. “Thirty minutes or less,” he reminds with a smile.

Mike just smiles back at him, and the door opens. “You guys ready?” Jonathan asks.

“Yeah,” Will says, while Mike just nods. Jonathan walks over to the window, peeking outside, and the doorbell rings in the front of the house.

“Do you see him?” Mike asks curiously, peering over Jonathan’s shoulder.

“No, but I’m sure he’s just pulling around,” Jonathan says, still trying to see Argyle’s van from where they’re standing. “Okay, let’s go over this again, alright? Once we see him—” 

The sound of a muffled gunshot rings out in the quiet of the Byers’ home, and Mike flinches, turning around. “Shit.”

“What the hell was that?” Jonathan’s eyes are wide and panicked, and he quickly hurries to the living room. “Stay here!” 

More gunshots fill the air; this time, they don’t sound muffled. “Shit, shit, shit,” Will swears, giving Mike a panicked look. “Oh God, they found us—”

“Shit!” Jonathan yells, running back into the room. “We gotta go; we gotta go now—”

The window shatters behind him, and all three of them flinch sharply. “Shit!” Mike screams, ducking as a barrage of bullets comes flying through the window. “Shit, shit, shit!”

“Go!” Jonathan shouts, and he does his best to cover both Mike and Will as they all scramble out of Will’s room. “Run!”

All around them, bullets fly, and as the secret agent screams at them to move, Mike runs as fast as he can, taking cover behind the wall. Will stands next to him, an absolutely terrified look on his face, and on complete instinct, Mike leans closer to his best friend and reaches out, grasping onto Will’s arm like it’s a lifeline. 

Will glances at him, and for a split second, the two of them stare at each other—both with wide, terrified eyes. Then, the secret agent man shouts, “Follow me!” Jonathan grabs onto Mike’s arm, carefully guiding them forward—

Another soldier enters the chaos, and Mike, Will, and Jonathan all scream as more bullets fly towards them. Will pulls both Mike and Jonathan behind another wall, and he holds onto Mike’s arm tightly with one hand and covers his head with the other. 

“What the hell is going on?” Mike screams.

“Just stay there!” the secret agent guy shouts in response, and he moves back into the line of fire, shooting his own gun at the soldiers. “Get down!”

Mike doesn’t need to be told twice. He ducks as quickly as he can, pulling Will with him, and the two of them huddle together, covering their heads and trying desperately to stay out of the line of fire. Jonathan positions himself slightly in front of them both, doing his best to shield them, and the secret agent steps in front of all of them once more. The soldiers are coming from all entrances now and he’s badly outnumbered, but still, somehow he manages to hold his own.

“I shoot, you run!” he barks, and Mike nods, quickly scrambling to his feet and pulling Will and Jonathan with him. Gunshots continue to ring out in the air—so loud that they’re almost deafening—and Mike runs as fast as he can to the nearest and safest exit.

Behind him, the secret agent man cries out. Mike flinches sharply, glancing behind him, and he watches as the man clutches his stomach, stumbling towards the exit with him. His shirt is stained with blood and he’s clearly hurt, but still, he continues to shoot at the approaching soldiers.

“Will! Help me!” Mike shouts, stumbling back over to the secret agent. He flings an arm around the man’s shoulders, and Will does the same. Together, the two of them support the other man’s weight, stumbling as quickly as they can out of the house and away from the shoulders.

“There’s Argyle!” Jonathan shouts, and God, Mike might have to reconsider whether or not he believes in a higher power. The jury’s still out on that one, but sending Argyle at this exact moment is definitely a point in this higher power's favor.  “Go! Go!” 

Will shifts, still holding secret agent man up as best as he can, and Jonathan runs in front of them, slamming into Argyle’s window. “Stop the car!” he yells, then he quickly opens the doors, letting Will, Mike, and the secret agent into the back first. Mike practically falls into the van, collapsing against the side, and he struggles to catch his breath. 

“Go, go, go!” Jonathan screams. 

“Whoa, whoa, is that real blood, man?” Argyle stares at them with wide eyes. “What the hell—”

“DRIVE! ” Mike, Will, and Jonathan all shout in unison, and Mike glances out the window. Shit, shit, shit, the soldiers are coming; holy shit, they need to get out of here—

“Holy shit, why’s that guy got a gun?!” Argyle screams.

Mike turns back to the eccentric man, his eyes wide. “DRIVE!” he screams again, just as Will, Jonathan, and even the secret agent man do the same.

Argyle doesn’t hesitate this time. He slams his foot down on the gas, and the tires squeal as they all make their escape in a Surfer Boy Pizza van.

Holy shit, Mike thinks to himself, still trying to catch his breath. He glances over at Will, who looks as shocked and terrified as Mike feels. Holy shit.

Chapter Text

Chapter Six

Buried

There’s so much blood.

There’s so much fucking blood, and seriously, Mike thinks he should be used to this by now. His life hasn’t been fucking normal since November 6, 1983, and he’s been in life-threatening situation after life-threatening situation. He’s run from his life from the Demogorgon and demodogs and from the Mind Flayer. He’s watched people die right in front of him at the hands of monsters and other humans alike.

But Mike’s never had another person die in his arms.

“Oh shit, oh shit, shit, shit, shit, oh shit!” Argyle screams, and honestly, Mike can’t decide if he’s completely fucking relatable or completely fucking annoying . Argyle is panicking, just like Mike is, but unlike Mike, he’s unable to keep his terror all locked up and repressed inside of him. Instead, he just continues to scream, as if that’s going to help anything.

“Keep putting pressure on it!” Jonathan shouts, placing his own hands on the literal fucking hole in secret agent man’s stomach. His hands are covered in blood, just like Mike’s are, and Mike forces himself to take a shuddered breath, pressing his hands against the wound. “Just hold on! Shit, shit, keep putting pressure on it!”

“It’s not stopping; it’s not stopping,” Will yelps, quickly trying to grab napkins and place them around the agent’s wound. “It’s not slowing, Jonathan!”

The agent man coughs weakly, blood bubbling up in his mouth, and Mike nearly gags. “Shit,” he whispers. His chest feels tight, and his hands are trembling as he presses down on the wound. The blood is warm and sticky on Mike’s hands, and somehow, he feels so much more aware of everything happening around him—Jonathan and Argyle’s panicked yells, the warmth of the blood dripping onto Mike’s hands, Will’s stammering as he looks around for more napkins, the sound of the pizza van’s old engine sputtering as they continue down the highway—

And yet, at the same time, Mike feels so distant from the entire situation… from his own body .

There’s a man, dying in Mike’s arms. There is a man. Dying, fucking bleeding out, right here, in the back of a pothead’s pizza van, and he—fucking Mike Wheeler—is one of the only things keeping this man alive right now.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the actual fuck.

Mike’s chest begins heaving, and he stares down at the dying man in his arms. His mind is racing, going a million miles an hour and trying desperately to process the other insanity that’s unfolding. This is crazy; this is fucking insane, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy fucking shit—

“No, no,” the secret agent man mumbles, and Mike flinches, blinking furiously and doing his best to ground himself once more. He needs to focus. He can’t afford to get swept up in anxiety right now—not when there’s literally a man dying in his arms. “No… no hospital… no hospital.”

“What?” Jonathan says desperately. “We’ll get you to the hospital; we’ll get you help!”

“You… need to warn… O-Owens,” the man chokes. More blood trickles out of his mouth. Mike feels like he might pass out. “The girl… she’s in danger.”

The words feel like a bucket of ice water dumped on top of Mike’s head. “W-what?” he stammers, still struggling to catch his breath. “W-where… where are they? Where’s El? Where’s El?”

“Nina… Nina,” the man just mumbles, and he shifts slightly, his eyes fluttering open and closed.

“Nina?” Will repeats. “Who… who’s Nina? Who’s Nina?”

The secret agent man holds up a pen with his trembling hand, and Mike’s eyes widen. “Number,” he coughs roughly, holding the pen out for Mike. For a brief moment, Mike meets his gaze, and he can see the light fading from the other man’s eyes. “Here’s… number.”

“Shit; we need paper!” Mike looks around desperately. The anxiety washes over him like a tidal wave again, and he grabs onto Will’s arm, shaking him. “Will, get something, come on, come on!”

“We’ll call this Nina, okay; just hang on, just hang on,” Jonathan adds. “Will, come on!”

Will’s eyes are wide, and he looks around, quickly grabbing a magazine. “Write the number!” he shouts. “Hey, hey, right here; right here! Write the number!” 

The light fades from the agent’s eyes. His hand goes slack, falling on top of Mike’s; his eyes flutter closed. Mike’s breath catches in the back of his throat. 

He’s dead.

Holy shit. 

He’s dead.

“Hey!” Jonathan screams. “Hey! Look at me! Come on! Hey!”

Argyle is panicking up in the driver’s seat, still looking back at all of them through the rearview mirror and still asking too many questions. Mike’s ears are ringing, and his chest feels tight—way too tight. He stares down at the pen that has fallen into his hands, still covered in this man’s blood.

Nothing about this is okay. Holy shit, nothing about this is okay, and they’re fugitives, running for their lives from the fucking government, and there is a man dead in Mike’s arms, and Mike’s hands are literally covered in his blood—his still warm and still sticky blood—and oh God, oh God, oh God—

The van jerks sharply to the right, sending Mike falling onto Will. Jonathan shouts something again at Argyle, but Mike can barely process what he’s even saying. His head feels like it’s spinning, and his heart is utterly racing inside his chest. It’s like he can’t breathe, and God, the only other time he’s felt like this was a few years ago that night at the quarry, biking faster, faster, faster and trying to get home and barely able to see anything past the tears in his eyes and unable to breathe , let alone think straight—

“Mike.” Someone— Will, Mike thinks somewhere in the back of his mind—takes his hands and squeezes them tightly. “Mike, hey, hey, look at me.”

Mike looks up. The image of Will is blurry, and something wet drips down Mike’s cheek. Blood, maybe? Or-or tears. When did he start crying? And how?

“Hey, you need to breathe,” Will whispers. He gives Mike’s hands another squeeze—once, twice, three times. It’s grounding, and though Mike’s hands are trembling, he squeezes Will’s hands back just as tight. “Everything’s going to be okay. You’re okay.”

“I-I don’t,” Mike gasps weakly. Will’s hands tighten around his own, and Mike squeezes them back, trying to breathe. “—know what’s… what’s wrong.”

Will nods slightly. His own hands are shaking just a bit, but he still holds onto Mike like he never plans to let go. “You… you’re having a panic attack,” he says, his voice soft and gentle. “It’s okay; I promise you’re okay. Just breathe with me, alright? Focus on me, and just breathe. In and out… in and out… in and out.”

Will’s chest rises and falls, rises and falls, rises and falls, and Mike does his best to just focus on that. In and out. In and out. In and out.

Slowly but surely, it becomes easier to breathe.

In and out. In and out. In and out.

Mike closes his eyes and squeezes Will’s hands tightly. His chest hurts a little bit less now, and he feels more grounded again. 

“You okay?” Will asks softly, and Mike opens his eyes.

Will is staring at him intently, his eyebrows all knit together in concern. There’s blood on his shirt and worry written all over his face, and for some reason, that familiar old fluttery feeling inside Mike’s stomach returns. 

“Y-yeah… Yeah, I think so,” Mike whispers back. His mouth feels dry, and he swallows the lump in the back of his throat, before looking around the van and out the window. 

The sun is just beginning to set over the barren desert, and holy shit, instead of the paved California highway, Argyle is now definitely just driving on the rocky desert roads that lead to God knows where.

“They were following us,” Will says quietly. Mike glances back over and meets his best friend’s eyes, just as Will takes his own, shuddered breath. “I… I think we lost them for now, but…”

“But they’ll keep looking for us,” Jonathan murmurs, and both Mike and Will turn to him. There’s a distant look on the older teen’s face, and he wrings his blood-stained hands anxiously. “We… we need to put some distance between us and them… but then, we…”

His voice trails off, and he looks down at the dead agent still sprawled across the van floor. Mike doesn’t dare look down. Honestly, there’s no telling how he’ll react again or what the hell might trigger another stupid fucking anxiety attack, so it’s better to be safe than sorry. Instead, Mike just focuses on Will’s face. 

“Shit, man, we gotta get rid of the body!” Argyle cries from the front seat. “Aw man, this is so messed up; this is so messed up, Byers! Holy shit, what is happening, man—”

“Argyle!” Jonathan says sharply. “Just… just calm down, okay? Please. J-just drive, and… we’ll… I’ll explain everything. Just keep driving, and don’t stop until I tell you to, okay?”

“He’s right, Jonathan,” Will says, his voice quiet. He looks about as drained as Mike feels, and like Mike, his hands are still shaking. “We… we need to get rid of the body; we can’t just keep him here—”

“We will, okay?” Jonathan snaps. Will flinches, and a surge of protectiveness rushes over Mike. He opens his mouth to say something back to Jonathan, but the older teen beats him to it, his voice softer now, “Sorry… Just… just give me a minute. We all just… need to breathe. I… And then we’ll figure out what to do next… Together, once we’re all okay… Sound good?”

Will just takes a deep breath, and he sits back, leaning close to Mike. “Okay,” he agrees softly. “You’re right.”

Jonathan nods silently, scooting back and sitting against the other side of the van. For a brief moment, he glances down at Mike and Will’s hands with a curious expression on his face, and Mike feels his face go warm. 

He lets go of Will’s hands without giving it another thought and clears his throat weakly, looking away from Jonathan’s scrutinizing gaze. That nervous fluttering inside his stomach only worsens, and there’s a small part of Mike that wishes the bottom of the van would open up and the ground would just swallow him whole.

It’s just Will, Mike reminds himself. They’ve done this dozens of times in the past, all throughout their childhood. There’s nothing weird about this. It’s just Will.

“Okay, okay, be careful!” Jonathan yelps, his arms underneath the dead secret agent’s arms. “Jesus, Will!” 

“It’s not me!” Will protests. “Mike, lift his legs!”

“I am!” Mike gives his best friend a look, lifting the man’s legs and climbing out of the back of Argyle’s van. He nearly trips and drops the poor agent on the way out, but luckily, Will manages to stop both of them from falling.

“You’re hopeless,” Will says. Despite it all, there’s a grin on his face, and Mike just rolls his eyes as both he and Will take a leg and start carrying the dead body away from the van.

“So, uh, have we thought this through?” Mike asks, glancing up at Jonathan. “I mean… how exactly are we going to bury the body? It’s not like there’s shovels or anything out there.”

Jonathan purses his lips, weaving through the old junkyard and dodging the random pieces of scrap metal. “We’ll improvise,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “There’s gotta be things around here that’ll work. I’m sure we can figure it out.”

For how fucking crazy this whole situation is, Jonathan seems rather calm, which… good for him. Mike still feels like shit, and judging by the look on his face, Will does too. At the very least though, they’re nowhere near as bad as Argyle, who has been muttering to himself and not so secretly panicking since Jonathan explained the entire story of the Upside Down to him through the night.

“Okay, right here should work,” Jonathan says, stopping in an open patch of ground between some old cars. He nods to the ground. “Let’s set him down slowly…”

As carefully as they can, the three of them lower the agent to the ground, and Mike wipes the sweat from his brow. Dear God, Nevada is too hot. It’s barely 8 in the morning, but it has to be at least eighty degrees outside in the middle of March. 

(Noted for future reference: Mike is not moving out west after he can leave Hawkins.)

After they’ve set the body down, Will kneels down next to the secret agent guy, and Mike’s brow furrows. “What’re you doing?” 

Will glances up. “We’ll probably need this,” he says, carefully undoing the agent’s holster and taking it off. “Between the government coming after us and whatever’s happening in Hawkins… better to be safe than sorry.”

“Right,” Mike says slowly, and he watches as Will stands back up, looking at the gun and the holster carefully. “You’re forgetting though… None of us know how to shoot a gun.”

Behind them, Jonathan just snorts, and Will turns around, a small grin on his face. Without saying another word, Will cocks the gun, holds his arm out, and fires a single round, before turning back to Mike. 

“Correction,” he says, a teasing smirk on his face. “You, Jonathan, and Argyle don’t know how to shoot a gun. I’m a pretty decent shot though.”

Holy shit, Mike thinks to himself, and he just stares at Will in surprise. 

Look, it’s… it’s not that Mike thinks Will is helpless or anything. Of course, he doesn’t. But between the two of them, Will has always been the easier target. He’d always been smaller, quieter, and more easily bullied than Mike himself, and so, very early on in their relationship, Mike had become protective over his best friend. Even if it made him a target too, Mike would always be there to protect Will and to help him, no matter what.

But now, standing over a dead body that had sent Mike into a full blown fucking panic attack earlier and watching him shoot a gun without any hesitation? It’s… different. It’s different seeing this Will—this older, more confident Will with his stupid messy haircut and his smug little grin that maybe makes Mike’s heart speed up just a bit. On one hand, Mike is proud of him and proud of how far Will has come. He’s not the little kid who used to get shoved around on the playground anymore. No, Will is like… the epitome of strength and resilience. He’s survived so much and still manages to be Will . So, of course, Mike is proud of him.

But at the same time, there’s… there’s a small part of Mike that maybe hates how different Will is. Will, who has moved on from Hawkins (and from Mike ) and who doesn’t really seem to need Mike anymore. Sure, they’re still friends—best friends, even—but it’s still just different. Will doesn’t need Mike around anymore. If anything, it’s Mike who needs Will and who has felt completely lost this whole time without Will.

“Where…” Mike swallows the lump in his throat, and he raises an eyebrow. “Do I even want to know how you learned how to shoot a gun?”

Will’s cheeks redden slightly, and he and Jonathan exchange another look. “My dad taught me when I was little,” he admits. “I hated it, but… it’s come in handy at least. It kept me alive in the Upside Down.”

“The only thing that asshole’s good for,” Jonathan says dryly. He looks around the junkyard, a frown on his face. “There has to be something around here that we can use to bury this guy… Let’s split up and look around. We want to keep moving, so we can put as much distance between us and those soldiers as possible.”

Without saying another word, Jonathan turns and walks away, absently lifting pieces of old scrap metal and looking for anything that might help them. Mike swallows the lump in his throat again, and he turns to Will, offering his best friend a smile.

“I can’t believe I’ve known you for over a decade but didn’t know you could shoot a gun,” he laughs weakly. 

Will’s eyes crinkle slightly, and he just smiles back—that mischievous little smile that’s so Will it hurts. “There’s a lot people don’t know about me,” he says, a bit teasingly. 

“Even me?” Mike raises a brow.

Will shrugs. “Even you. But don’t worry. You still know me better than anyone else,” he promises; then, he turns and walks in the opposite direction of Jonathan. “You coming?”

For a moment, Mike just stands there, frozen in place and unsure of what to say or do.

You still know me better than anyone else.  

Mike can’t help the grin that forms on his face. A certain sense of pride mixed with relief fills his heart and mind, he bites down on his lip, doing his best to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. It feels good to be affirmed like this—to be affirmed of his importance to Will and to know that Mike still has a place in his life. 

Things really are alright with them, and in spite of everything else going to shit, Mike considers that a win. 

Mike is one more stupid comment away from begging Jonathan to drop Argyle off at the closest Surfer Boy Pizza.

It’s bad enough that Mike already feels like shit. These past three days have consisted of one terrible thing after another, and holy fucking shit, Mike can’t even begin to wrap his brain around everything. He’s overwhelmed, anxious, and exhausted—just like he’s sure both Will and Jonathan are. Things have officially gone to shit, and the worst part about it is, they still have absolutely no fucking idea what’s going on in Hawkins or if any of their loved ones are even safe.

So, naturally, Mike feels like shit.

But then , to make things so much worse, Argyle is somehow the worst person in the world to be around during a crisis, and that’s saying something. All of the chaos of the previous night has finally caught up to him… or maybe all the weed has finally worn off. Regardless, as Jonathan, Will, and Mike all finish burying the secret agent dude’s dead body, Argyle begins freaking the fuck out and screaming about how they should go to the cops with all of this and how the stupid fucking government is going to kill all of them and then go after El and—

Yeah. 

Needless to say, Mike’s brain begins to shut down. Again.

In and out. In and out, a voice that sounds a lot like Will’s echoes in Mike’s mind, and he takes a deep breath, glancing over at his best friend. At the same moment, Will happens to look over at Mike, and the two of them make eye contact for the briefest second.

There’s an unreadable expression on Will’s face, and an inexplicable heat rushes over Mike’s cheeks. He glances away for a brief second, then back at Will, then away again, and he does his best to ignore the sudden rush of nerves that hits him. 

Mike’s… not sure he’s ever seen Will look at him like that… or look at anyone like that, actually.

He’s not quite sure what to make of it, but it’s… not a bad thing. Definitely not a bad thing. Just… new.

(And somewhere in the back of his mind, Mike wonders if Will continued to look at him like that… even after he turned away.)

Eventually, the three of them finish burying the secret agent guy, and Jonathan wanders off to go find a map and figure out what the hell they’re going to do next. Mike sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair, and he glances over at Will.

Somehow, again, Will happens to look over at the same time, and he smiles slightly. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Mike nods, offering a small smile back. “You?”

Will just shrugs, walking over to one of the old cars and climbing on top of the roof. Likewise, Mike follows him, and he very pointedly ignores the way his cheeks warm up when Will offers him a hand up. “I think so,” Will says with a sigh. “I’m tired and still… processing all this. It’s all such a mess.”

Mike snorts. “Understatement of the year,” he mutters, fiddling with the hem of his shirt anxiously. “I mean… everything’s… gone to shit. Again . We have no idea where we’re going, Hawkins is in danger, and El’s MIA. We’re literally screwed, Will.”

“Hey.” Will bumps Mike’s shoulder gently, giving him a look. “You can’t let Argyle get to you. I mean, he’s stoned out of his mind, and half the time, I don’t even think he knows what he’s saying.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s wrong though,” Mike says quietly. “What if… what if they find us? Or find Eleven before we do? If… if that guy had just lived for… for one more second, we would know how to find El, and-and then… then we could all go back to Hawkins and fix whatever’s wrong… together. I just… I don’t get why he didn’t… didn’t just say the number. Why didn't he just tell us?”

Mike takes a shuddered breath, running a hand through his hair. “And I just… I can’t stop thinking about what’s going on,” he whispers. All at once, all Mike’s fears and anxieties come tumbling out of him in a jumbled mess of words. “About… El… and my-my family and all our… all our friends back in Hawkins… I… I’m just scared. And I keep… I keep thinking about all the things that…that I should’ve done differently… or… or should’ve said to people… that I just couldn’t figure out how to say.” 

For a few moments, Will remains quiet, staring out at the abandoned junkyard with a distant look on his face. “I know what you mean,” he finally admits, turning back to look at Mike. The two of them lock eyes, and Will takes a shuddered breath. “Sometimes… sometimes, it’s just scary though… to… to open up to people… and say how you really feel… Especially to people you care about the most. Because… what if… what if they don’t like the truth?”

Something… something hangs in the air between them, but Mike can’t explain it. All he knows is that for just a moment, the world shrinks and shrinks and shrinks until it’s only the two of them—the way it always used to be, before everything became so damn complicated. In the quiet intimacy of this moment, it feels like the only other person in the world is Will Byers, and the rest of the world just… disappears. 

It feels like the two of them are on the edge of something—but what that is, Mike has no clue. Will swallows, as if he’s about to say something more, and Mike’s gaze lowers for the briefest of moments to his lips. 

“Hey, does anybody know the dead dude’s name?” Argyle calls, and Mike flinches sharply, tearing his gaze away from Will.

That was… weird. Mike is being weird, and actually, Will is too. He had looked like he’d wanted to say something to Mike… something important. And Mike? 

Mike had just stared at his best friend’s lips.

That’s… new, the critical voice in the back of his mind points out, and Mike tries to ignore the way his face burns with embarrassment. What was that about?

Shut up, Mike tells it, pushing those thoughts away. Whatever… whatever happened between him and Will was just… some weird fluke. He doesn’t need to think about that right now. Just shut up.

“What?” Jonathan turns around, giving Argyle a weird look. 

“The dead dude,” Argyle says, motioning to the makeshift grave they’d just dug. He holds up a cardboard pizza box that’s been turned into a… headstone? “I’m making him a headstone.”

“Oh my God,” Will mutters under his breath. Mike just snickers, and Will nudges him lightly in the ribs, giving him a look like, I’m going to lose my mind.

Jonathan stares at his friend, wearing a very similar look to his brother. “You… you do realize that we spent all morning trying to hide the body… right?”

“Oh, oh, right, right.” Argyle nods, and he grabs the agent’s pen from the dirt. “Okay. I’ll just write ‘Here lies unknown hero agent man. Saved Argyle, Jonathan, Will, and Mike from certain death.’ How’s that sound?”

Jonathan just sighs heavily, while Mike continues to watch Argyle’s attempts to write on the pizza box.  “Yeah, that… that’s fine. You do you, man.”

“Come on, stupid pen,” Argyle mutters. “Won’t work. Come on!”

Mike’s brow furrows. Despite his best attempts to get the pen to work, Argyle still can’t get it to write, which is… weird. Why would the secret agent guy have a broken pen? Moreover, why would he give them a broken pen to write something as important as this Nina lady’s phone number down? 

Unless…

“That’s his pen,” Mike says, turning to Will with wide eyes. 

Will blinks. “What?”

“The… the unknown hero agent man,” Mike explains, gesturing to the Argyle and the grave. “He gave me that pen before he died, right? To write down Nina’s phone number. But it doesn’t work… so, why would he give it to me?”

Will’s eyes widen in recognition, and in perfect sync, the two of them turn back to Argyle and jump off the car. “Argyle, we need the pen!” Will calls. He’s always been the more polite of the two of them. 

“I’m using it—” Argyle starts to say, but Mike doesn’t let him finish. He snatches the pen out of Argyle’s hand and quickly unscrews the cap off, shaking the pen onto Argyle’s cardboard box.

A tiny slip of paper falls out.

“Whoa, something fell out of that pen, man,” Argyle says, holding up the little piece of paper. 

Mike’s hands are shaking as he unrolls the tiny slip of paper, and he nearly sobs with relief when he sees the ten-digit phone number scrawled messily onto the slip. 

“What is it?” Jonathan asks, peering over his shoulder.

“It’s the number,” Will laughs. He sounds just as relieved as Mike feels, and Mike glances to his left, exchanging a grin with him. “We’ve had it this whole time.”

“We got his digits, man?” Argyle asks. 

Mike grins widely, turning back to Jonathan. “We have to go now … find the nearest payphone… call this Nina lady, and get El back. Then, we go to Hawkins, and…”

A dark look crosses Jonathan’s face, and he nods in understanding. “And we hope we’re not too late,” he finishes quietly.

A lump forms in the back of Mike’s throat again. “Yeah,” he agrees, looking back down at Nina’s phone number. “We hope we’re not too late.”

If whatever the fuck is going on in the Upside Down doesn’t kill him, then Argyle’s driving is sure to do the trick.

“There’s one right there!” Mike shouts, pointing to a payphone on the side of the road. “Argyle, slow down!” 

“There’s one what?” Argyle turns around, a confused look on his face. The van veers off the side of the road, and yep, this is it. Mike’s not going to die at the hands of the military or monsters from the Upside Down. No, he’s going to die in the back of a smelly, blood-stained pothead van in the middle of nowhere Nevada. 

Great.

“Argyle, slow down!” Will cries. He points ahead of him at the payphone box, a panicked look on his face. “Argyle!”

“Slow down!” Mike yells. Holy shit, they’re going to die. Yeah, they’re going to die.

“Stop barking orders, man!” Argyle shouts back, still glancing at them through the rearview mirror.

“Argyle, slow down!” Mike and Will shout in unison. The van is only a few mere feet from the payphone box, and Mike winces, bracing for impact.

At the last moment, Argyle slams his foot on the brakes, just as Jonathan grabs the wheel and causes the van to swerve out of the way. Mike and Will are both flung forward, and Mike winces as his head hits the back of Argyle’s seat.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, rubbing his forehead. 

Likewise, Will just groans, sitting up and giving Mike another exasperated look. Mike just rolls his eyes in agreement. Neither of them have to say anything for the other to understand exactly what the other one is thinking: they’re both tired, annoyed as fuck, and ready for this whole mess to be over with.

Will opens the van door and jumps out, and Mike follows after him, walking up to the phone booth. “You got the number?” he asks, fishing in his pocket for a couple of quarters.

“Yep.” Will nods, holding up the little slip of paper, and Mike puts his quarters into the booth. “Okay, it’s 202-968-6161.”

For the first few seconds, the phone rings, and Mike taps his foot impatiently, waiting for the line to connect. Then… something weird happens.

Instead of a normal dial tone or even the busy tone (which Mike has become way too familiar with, thanks to the past few months of calling the Byers’ house), the phone begins to make a bunch of weird noises that sound… vaguely familiar? Mike isn’t sure.

“Is it ringing?” Jonathan asks, clearly picking up on Mike’s confusion.

“No… It’s just making a bunch of weird noises.” Mike shakes his head, and he turns to look at Will. Without even being asked to, Will takes a step closer to him, reaching out for the phone to listen as well. Will’s hand brushes against Mike’s as they both hold the phone up to his ear, and Mike feels his face go warm once again.

There it is again, that voice in the back of his mind whispers.

Will’s brow furrows in confusion, and he meets Mike’s eyes, clearly noticing the familiarity in the tone as well. “Does that… remind you of anything?” Mike asks.

Will tilts his head slightly, the way he always does when he’s trying to figure out a problem, and Mike can actually pinpoint the moment Will makes the same connection he does. “War Games!” 

“What?” Jonathan looks at them in confusion, and Mike hands him the phone, allowing the older teen to listen in. 

“Oh my God,” Will says, and he turns back to Mike, his eyes wide. “We’re not calling a phone.”

“No,” Mike agrees, wincing slightly. “We’re calling a computer.”

Jonathan hands the phone back to Mike, and he leans his head against the phone booth, hitting his forehead lightly against it. “Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters under his breath. “What the hell are we supposed to do now?”

“Suzie says the Internet’s going to change the world, and I’m pretty inclined to believe her.”

“The what?”

“The Inter… oh, never mind. Just trust me, okay? She’s a total genius with computers. And other stuff too. She’s just… a certified genius all around.”

“I have an idea,” Mike blurts out, pushing past Will and Jonathan and running to the passenger’s side of the car. As quickly as he can, Mike grabs the map from the glove compartment and goes to the back of the van, unfolding the map. “Look, I don’t know if Nina’s a computer like Joshua or Owens’ lab, but unknown hero agent man gave us access to it for a reason. So, we just need to find the computer and find Owens, so we can warn him and warn El. But to do that, we need a hacker. And the only hacker I know lives in Utah.”

Mike points directly to Salt Lake City, and Jonathan just looks at him in confusion. “Wait, Utah?”

“Salt Lake City to be specific,” Mike says with a shrug. “So, not too far from here.”

“Who do you know that lives in Utah?” Jonathan questions.

Behind the two of them, Will bursts into laughter. Both Mike and Jonathan turn around, and even Argyle turns to look at Will in confusion. With another laugh, Will just puts his hands on his head and says, “Oh my God.” 

Once again, Will is exactly on the same page as Mike, and Mike grins smugly. It feels good to be so in sync with Will again—the way that they always used to be. It feels right.

“What?” Jonathan, still clearly not on the same page as them, gives Will a weird look. “Why the ‘oh my God?’”

Will turns to look at Mike, the most mischievous grin on his face. He raises an eyebrow, and once again, Mike knows exactly what his best friend is thinking.

Without hesitation, the two of them burst into a (very bad) rendition of everyone’s least favorite song: Turn around, look at what you see—

“Oh no,” Jonathan groans, leaning his head against the back of the van, and both Mike and Will begin to laugh again.

“Never Ending Story,” Argyle exclaims. “Man, that movie scared the shit outta me! The Nothing? Man, that’s some proper existential shit right there, dude.”

Jonathan turns to Mike, an exhausted look on his face. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s our only option,” Mike says with a wince. “So, if we take the I-15 north, we’ll get there by morning.”

“Oh my God, he’s being serious.” Jonathan turns back around, running his hands through his hair. “He’s being serious.”

“Jonathan.” Will gives his older brother a look. “Mike’s right. Suzie’s probably our best bet at getting in contact with Owens and El. And I mean… she did kind of save the world a couple years ago.”

Mike nods in agreement, while Jonathan just groans. “By giving us a number,” he reminds. “A number. And also wasting our time so much that people literally died! Now you want to go back for her help again? And what are we going to do, tell her the whole story about the Upside Down and the fact that we’re literally wanted by the government? She’ll never believe us!”

“Hey, I believed you, Byers.” Argyle places a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder, and he grins widely. “Your story was full of some insane shit, but I believed you.”

“Oh my God,” Jonathan mutters under his breath, and he hits his head against the van door. “Oh my God.”

“Look, Will and I will figure out what to tell Suzie,” Mike reassures. “We don’t… have to tell her everything. From what Dustin’s said, her family is a little insane, so we’ll just… make something up to convince her to help. Then, once she hacks into the computer and gets the location, we’ll leave before anyone even notices we’re there. Okay?”

Jonathan just sighs heavily, but he stands up, taking the map from Mike. “Okay,” he says tiredly. “Everyone back in the van then. Argyle, I’d like to live past nineteen, so I’m driving, alright, buddy?”

As the two older teens make their way back up to the front of the van, Mike and Will climb into the back and shut the door behind them. “Thanks for backing me up there,” Mike says quietly, glancing over at Will. “I don’t know if this stupid plan’s going to work, but… I appreciate you being there for me.”

A smile forms on Will’s face; he bumps Mike’s shoulder lightly. “Of course,” he says softly. “We’re a team, remember? I’ve got you.”

The butterflies in Mike’s stomach have returned, and he smiles back, leaning closer to Will. “I know,” he murmurs. “I know you do.”

Once again, that same… thing hangs in the air between them as Mike and Will look at one another, and Mike finds himself unable to look away from his best friend. The two of them are barely a foot away from each other, and God, Will is so close—closer than he has been in years and close enough for Mike to—

To what? that voice whispers in the back of his mind. 

Mike stops himself, and he clears his throat weakly, pulling away. “I think I’m gonna take a nap,” he mumbles, leaning against the side of the van and very pointedly not looking at Will. “You know… before we meet Suzie and all.”

“Good idea,” Will says breathlessly. He won’t meet Mike’s eyes either, and he leans against the opposite side of the van. 

Despite being further away from each other now, that… feeling still lingers in the air, and Mike swallows the lump in his throat, closing his eyes tightly. Whatever… whatever all this is, he can’t let himself dwell on it too much. Not when El needs them. Not when their friends and the rest of Hawkins need them. 

None of this is important right now; no, what’s important is finding Eleven and making it back to Hawkins to help the others… before it’s too late.

Chapter Text

Chapter Seven

The Road to You

Somewhere between Nevada and Utah, Jonathan pulls over the car to let all of them rest for the night.

Both he and Argyle are clearly exhausted, and as soon as he parks the van, Jonathan leans back in his seat and falls asleep in minutes. It’s around 1 AM now, and if everyone sleeps for just a few hours, they should make it to Suzie’s house by around 9 or 10 in the morning.

That is, assuming nothing else goes wrong.

Mike winces slightly, trying his best to stretch his legs. Spending hours stuck in the back of Argyle’s van has not been fun, and at this rate, Mike thinks he might permanently have pins and needles in his feet. 

It could be worse though. He could be in Hawkins, fighting whatever evil the Upside Down has decided to throw at them this year. Or he could be wherever El is, trying to figure out how to regain her powers and give the world a fighting chance against the Upside Down. Things could be a lot worse, and honestly, Mike doesn’t know whether he feels relieved or guilty to have gotten out of the brunt of the chaos. Maybe a little bit of both.

Across from him, Will shifts, trying to find a more comfortable position, and he pulls his knees up to his chest. Mike smiles weakly. “Can’t sleep either?”

“Not really tired,” Will says with a wry smile. “Guess we shouldn’t have taken those naps earlier, huh?”

Mike just laughs softly, leaning his head against the van window. “Guess not,” he agrees. “Now, we’re stuck in the back of this smelly ass van until Argyle and Jonathan wake up.”

A curious expression forms on Will’s face, and he glances out the back of the van, then at Mike. “Not necessarily,” he says with a shrug. “We could…”

Will motions to the vast Nevada desert just outside the van’s doors, and Mike grins, reaching for the handle. “I like the way you think, Will Byers,” he chuckles, and he opens up the back of the van. “After you.”

A soft smile forms on Will’s face, and he looks away as he jumps out of the van. Mike follows after him, and to his surprise, he’s struck by an unexpected cool breeze blowing through the middle of the desert.

“Aren’t deserts supposed to be warm?” Mike complains, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Didn’t you pay attention at all in Decker’s class a couple years ago?” Will teases as he shuts the van door. “Deserts get really hot in the day and really cold at night. Something about how the sand isn’t able to hold the heat well.”

“I’m pretty sure I spent most of that class arguing with Max in the back of the classroom,” Mike chuckles, and he begins to walk away from the van. They probably shouldn’t walk too far away from Jonathan and Argyle, but as long as they can still see Argyle’s van, Mike doesn't think it’s too much of an issue. “Not that I would’ve paid that much attention to Decker anyways. His voice was so annoying!”

Will rolls his eyes, and he nudges Mike lightly. “Don’t be rude,” he scolds, but he’s clearly fighting a smile. “Mr. Decker was always nice to you!”

“That doesn’t change the fact that he sounds like a dying Muppet,” Mike points out, and yeah, that does it. Will bursts into laughter, and Mike quickly joins him, unable to help himself. The sound of their laughter fills the silence of the barren Nevada desert, and despite everything going on in their lives, Mike feels more like himself than he has in nearly two years.

“I’ve missed this,” Will admits softly, after they both calmed down and caught their breaths. Mike turns to look at him, and the two of them lock eyes.

I’ve missed you, Will’s expression seems to say. 

The words go unspoken but not unsaid—after all, Mike and Will have always had a way of not just listening to each other but also hearing each other and somehow knowing exactly what the other one is trying to say. 

It’s part of the reason their distance hurt so much. Because for his entire life, Will was always the person who just… understood Mike, and likewise, Mike could always understand Will. Drifting apart from one another and not being able to tell just what his best friend was thinking hurt more than Mike would have ever expected.

“I have too,” Mike whispers back, and he offers Will a small smile. “I… I meant it, the other day, when I was talking about you being gone… Home just hasn’t been the same without you.”

It’s a bit difficult to see Will’s face in the dim moonlight, but Mike thinks there’s the slightest blush on Will’s cheeks… And that, for some reason, makes Mike’s cheeks turn warm once more.

“It hasn’t been the same the last couple years without you either,” Will confesses, glancing at Mike as the two of them continue to walk away from the van. “I mean… I liked living in Lenora. Honestly, I did. But I just… I kept thinking about Hawkins and… and the rest of the party and you, and… and I missed all of it. A lot.”

The words are everything that Mike has wanted to hear since… well, since getting that first initial letter from El and Will back in October. These words are just a confirmation that, like Mike, Will did miss the way things used to be… and miss Mike.

Then, why did you pull away? Mike wants to ask, but he doesn’t have the courage to. No, he needs to tread lightly around this whole… situation. Figuring out the truth— whatever that may be—isn’t worth losing Will over. Maybe eventually, Mike will work up the courage to address… whatever the hell is going on. But not right now.

So instead, Mike does the next best thing: he diverts the conversation.

“What do you think will happen when all this is over?” he asks softly. “You think… Owens will make you guys move again?”

Will frowns, and he looks down, kicking the sand absently. “I don’t know,” he says with a shrug. “I mean… probably? Especially now with… the military finding us and coming after El… We definitely won’t be able to go back to Lenora, that’s for sure.”

“Oh darn,” Mike says sarcastically. “No more dealing with Angela and her horde of bitchy Californians? What ever will you do?”

Will just laughs. “I don’t know how I’ll survive without them,” he says, smiling wryly. “Though, I’m sure there will be other bullies wherever El and I end up next.”

There’s a slight bitterness to Will’s tone, and Mike can’t help but frown. “Were they bad to you too?” 

“No, no, not… not really,” Will reassures, glancing over at Mike. “I mean, a little bit, but… it wasn’t nearly as bad as Hawkins. Most of the time I just… kept my head down and tried to ignore everyone. El took the brunt of the bullying because the girls at school were just awful.”

“So… I guess that means you don’t have a girlfriend yet?” Mike teases in an attempt to lighten the mood, and he nudges Will gently.

Almost immediately though, there’s a noticeable shift in Will’s demeanor. He tenses quickly, and the smile on his face drops as his walls go back up. And all at once, it’s like that chasm from before is back, separating the two of them and keeping them as far away from each other as possible.

Mike’s chest clenches painfully. Shit, things had been going so well, and things were fine between the two of them again. But now, he’s gone and said the wrong thing and fucked it all up again—

“Nope,” Will says with a nervous laugh. He glances hesitantly at Mike, an unsure look on his face. “There’s… no girl I’m really interested in.”

The chasm shrinks—just a little bit—and there’s something in Will’s eyes… It’s almost like he wants to say something more but is still holding back. Still… hiding something from Mike. 

That realization feels like a rusty knife in the heart. Will never used to hide things from Mike.

“I… I’m sure you’ll find someone eventually,” Mike says, and he clears his throat. “Besides… relationships are a lot of work anyways. Sometimes, I think things were easier back before any of us got girlfriends.”

At this, Will just bursts into laughter, giving Mike a disbelieving look. “Seriously?”

Mike blinks. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Will shakes his head, but there’s an amused smile on his face. “You’re right though. Things were a lot easier before any of this happened at all, but… I don’t know. I guess that’s just life. Things change… People change.”

“Yeah, and it all sucks,” Mike grumbles, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m tired of things changing. I just… want to go back in time and forget these past two years ever happened. I want a do-over.”

Will gives him a curious look. “Do you really?”

Mike’s brow furrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Will just shrugs. “I don’t know, I guess… I mean, were things really that bad these past two years?” he asks softly, stopping to look Mike in the eye. “That you’d just want to erase everything that’s happened?”

There’s just something about Will Byers and his stupid ability to see right through Mike. With Will’s curious gaze on him, Mike feels completely vulnerable and exposed—unable to hide anything from Will… and from himself.

I’m not hiding anything though, Mike thinks. 

Are you sure about that?

“I mean, I guess not… not everything,” Mike says with a weak shrug. “I told you about Hellfire Club and my friend, Eddie, right? I would still want to have Eddie in my life. And then… Nance and I have gotten closer too. But… everything else has just… been really, really weird.”

He pauses here, giving Will a curious look. “So, you’re saying you wouldn’t want to change how these past two years have been?”

Once again, Will’s face just reddens, and he goes quiet for several moments. “Honestly? I mean, obviously, I’d want to live in Hawkins, so I could… be around you and-and the others. But there’s a lot I wouldn’t be willing to give up about these past couple years.”

Mike nods slightly, tilting his head in curiosity. “Care to elaborate?”

The expression on Will’s face softens. “El,” he says simply. “I mean… we were friends before we moved out to California, but I never really felt like I knew her. We were just kind of like… ships passing in the night. I was gone when everyone else first met her, then she was gone when I came back. Then, when we were both around, the two of you were… always together, so I never really got to know her… And then, suddenly, we were living together and were basically brother and sister. So, it’s been really, really nice just getting to know El for who she actually is… not the superhero, not your girlfriend…  just El.”

“And you’re a superhero. You’re a superhero, El.”

“Is that… is that all you see me as?”  

Mike knows Will doesn’t mean the words as some sort of back-handed comment; after all, there’s no way Will could’ve known about the argument he and El had before all of this went down. Still, the words feel like a punch in the gut, and Mike swallows the lump in the back of his throat.

“Why does it matter?”

“If you have to ask that, Mike, then we both know what your answer is.”

“I… I’m glad you guys had each other,” Mike finally manages to say. He forces a smile on his face. “And you… you’re a great brother, Will. I’m glad… El ended up being part of your family.”

Will smiles. “Kind of feels like fate, huh? She shows up the day after I go missing and is the only reason you all managed to find me—”

“Hey now,” Mike protests, and he nudges Will lightly. “We might’ve found you without El!”

Will gives Mike a disbelieving look. He’s clearly fighting his laughter. “Sure… and then, we all would’ve gotten eaten by the Demogorgon.”

Mike opens his mouth to argue more, but honestly, he really doesn’t have an argument against the points Will is making. “Okay, fine,” he grumbles, scrunching his nose at his best friend. “We definitely needed El to find you. So, I guess we’re all lucky that Dustin, Lucas, and I ran into her that night in the woods.”

“Yeah,” Will agrees, a small smile on his face. “I guess we are. Even in spite of… everything. I’m glad you found her.”

And I’m glad she found you, Mike thinks to himself, but he doesn’t say it aloud. Instead, he just smiles back and nods. “Yeah… me too.”

Another cold breeze blows through the desert, and Will shivers, wrapping his arms around himself. “Oh, shit,” Mike says, the realization dawning on him. “Shit, sorry. You… you hate the cold. Do you want to go back to the van? Or here, you can take my jacket—”

Will laughs, and he reaches out, putting his hand on Mike’s arm. “I’m okay, Mike,” he promises, his voice soft. The two of them lock eyes once more, and Mike can barely hear anything over the nervous thump thump thump of his heart. Will is so, so close to him; he’s right here, right in front of Mike, and close enough to…

Will breaks eye contact first—but only for a brief moment. His gaze moves downward ever so slightly, and Mike feels the warmth spread across his cheeks once more. That… thing hangs in the air between the two of them, drawing them closer and closer, and instinctively, Mike finds himself doing the same, glancing at Will’s lips and wondering—

Holy shit, what the hell is he doing? Shit, shit, shit.

Mike clears his throat, and he pulls away, giving Will an awkward smile as he pulls his jacket back down. “Maybe… um… maybe we should go back to the van,” he mumbles. “I… um… I’m… actually more tired than I realized.”

The chasm between them grows once more, but this time, it’s all Mike’s fault. Will’s face falls, but he recovers, offering Mike an equally awkward smile in return. “Yeah, um… me too.”

The walk back to the van is far more uncomfortable and feels a lot longer than their walk out into the desert, mostly because neither Mike nor Will say a word to one another. It’s painful how quickly the two of them can go from laughing and talking to each other like nothing has ever changed to being so distant from one another again.

Mike hates it. He hates all of this so fucking much.

Once they approach the van, Will silently opens up the door and allows Mike to climb in first, before climbing in after him. The two of them both huddle up in their respective sides of the van, and Mike exhales, pulling his knees up close to his chest. His heart is still pounding, and the butterflies in his stomach have made their grand reappearance. 

God, what is going on with him? Mike has… has never felt so weird around Will… at least not like this. He’s never thought about Will this way—or any other guy this way before. Or… or maybe he has? And maybe he just never noticed it? 

Forced conformity, Wheeler, Eddie’s voice echoes inside Mike’s head. Time and time again over the past two years, Eddie has drilled his speech about forced conformity and societal standards into Mike’s head. 

Society expects you to be a certain way… dress a certain way… like certain things… date certain people… And it’s all a load of bullshit, Wheeler. It’s all bullshit. Who cares what people think? I say… just do what you want to do. Be you. And fuck everything else.

What if I don’t know who I am? Mike thinks to himself, and he takes a shuddered breath, cupping his hand over his mouth. Hot, salty tears sting his eyes, and Mike blinks them back, trying to ignore the anxiety and confusion building up inside of his chest. What then?

“Hey, Will?” Mike whispers, before he can stop himself.

It’s quiet in the van, and for a moment, Mike thinks Will must have already fallen asleep. But then, Will quietly says, “Y-yeah?”

His voice sounds hoarse, like he’s maybe been crying as well. That only makes Mike feel worse, and he squeezes his eyes shut, so as to not see Will crying.

God, he feels like such an idiot. A confused, clueless idiot who has no idea what he’s doing or what he wants or how not to hurt the people he loves. All Mike wants is for things to go back to normal—back before everything became so messy and confused and screwed up. 

I’m sorry, Mike almost says, but the words die in the back of his throat.

I’m really glad I’m here with you, he thinks about saying, but for some reason, he just can’t.

“Um… goodnight,” Mike whispers, because that’s the best that he can manage right now. There are so many things that he wants to say to Will and probably should say to Will, but he just can’t. Not until he figures out what the hell is going on in his own head. 

Once again, Will is quiet for an almost uncomfortable amount of time. Then, finally, he whispers back, “Goodnight, Mike.”

Silence settles over the entire van once more, and Mike exhales slowly, leaning his head back against the window. The world is quite possibly ending, his family and best friends are caught right in the middle of another attack from the hell dimension that’s tormented them for years, and his (ex?) girlfriend is actually missing and being targeted by the U.S. fucking government.

And Mike? 

Mike’s out here in the middle of the desert, just trying to figure out his own damn feelings towards a person he’s known for almost as long as he can remember.

Yeah. 

He’s a mess. An absolute fucking mess. Everything about this entire week has been one big mess, and the worst part is, Mike has absolutely no idea how to fix any of it. 

Somewhere around 4 AM, Mike finally manages to fall asleep. 

Unfortunately, it’s no easy feat. After his little… excursion with Will, Mike finds himself completely unable to fall asleep. No, there are just too many anxious and confused thoughts swirling around in his head, and sleep unfortunately evades him for most of the night. It’s become a pretty common pattern for him this week.

And despite how badly Mike wants to stop thinking all of these things, he just isn't able to. It’s like every single time he closes his eyes, he sees Will’s face—inches away from him and closer to Mike than he’s ever been… close enough for Mike to just say screw it and finally do away with that stupid fucking chasm that’s existed between them for so long—

God. Mike is losing his mind. This is Will he’s thinking about. Will, his best friend of over ten years now and the person Mike trusts more than anyone else. Will, who also just so happens to be a boy, which makes absolutely no sense because Mike isn’t… Mike isn’t like that. Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay, or-or bisexual like Eddie is, but that’s… that’s not Mike.

…Right?

Yeah. It’s no wonder it takes Mike hours to fall asleep. His mind is like a broken film playing over and over again on repeat, and he finds himself asking the same questions, replaying the same moments over and over and over again until he feels like he’s going crazy—

Somehow, after hours of this, Mike falls asleep.

The next thing he knows, someone says, “Will, wake Mike up! We’re an hour away from Suzie’s house!”

And then, someone is shaking him lightly, and Mike groans, trying to pull away. “Mike,” a familiar voice says, sounding amused. “Mike, come on; wake up!”

“Five more minutes,” Mike grumbles, and he swats at the person’s arms lightly. “Tired…”

The person just laughs and gives him another shake. “Mike,” he says again, louder this time. The person sounds closer too—like he’s right up close to Mike’s face. “Michael.”

Mike just groans once more, opening his eyes and blinking sleepily. The blurriness of his vision fades away, and he finds himself staring up into the familiar hazel eyes of Will Byers.

Beautiful, the half-asleep, stupid part of Mike’s brain thinks as his vision begins to clear and Will’s face comes into focus.

(Shit, where the hell did that come from?)

Mike swallows the lump in his throat. Will is so close to him, and Mike just feels completely frozen. All he can do is stare up at his best friend, who looks at Mike with a thoughtful and curious gaze. For a moment, neither of them say anything, but their eyes remain locked on one another.

And that feeling? The one from the night before? Yeah. It… it’s still there.

“Hey,” Mike whispers. His mouth feels dry, and no matter how much he knows he should look away, he can’t bring himself to.

A hesitant smile forms on Will’s face. “Hey,” he replies, his voice soft. “Um… morning.”

Mike just smiles back awkwardly, and he sits up, rubbing his eyes. “Morning.”

This time, Will is the first one to look away; he clears his throat and scoots back over to his side of the van. “We’re about an hour from Suzie’s house,” he explains, motioning to Jonathan and his map. “And we, uh… we probably need to figure out what we’re going to say to her.”

“Right.” Mike winces. He had definitely told Jonathan they’d figure that out before getting to Suzie’s house, but quite frankly, Mike had been lying straight out of his ass to get Jonathan to agree to his plans. He doesn’t really know the first thing about Suzie other than the fact that she’s a genius, comes from an insanely strict and religious family, and has like a gazillion siblings. 

How they’re going to convince Suzie to hack into this random ass Nina computer all while not revealing any of this shit to her? Yeah, Mike has no clue.

“You have no idea what to tell her, do you?” Will mutters.

Warmth spreads across Mike’s cheeks, and he smiles sheepishly. “Is it that obvious?”

“Maybe just a little.” Will’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, and he leans back against the other side of the van, giving Mike an expectant look. “Alright, I bet we can figure something out together.”

The butterflies in Mike’s stomach return once more, and he glances away, unable to stop himself from smiling. “Cool,” he says softly, doing his best to ignore the fluttery feeling he has inside his stomach.  “Um…  Okay, this is going to sound stupid, but maybe we could somehow convince her this computer is for Dustin?”

“Why do I have to go first?” Mike hisses, looking back at Will in exasperation.

“Because you’re the one that knows her best!” Will argues, and he gives Mike a look like, Obviously .

“I’ve never even met her!” 

“Okay, but you’ve spent the last two years listening to Dustin talk about her,” Will reminds, gently pushing Mike towards the front door. “Jonathan, Argyle, and I don’t really know anything about her, and who knows if she knows anything about me! If she’s going to recognize anyone, it’ll be you.” 

Mike just groans, and he stops on the front doorstep, turning to look at the other three members of their group. “Just… everyone act normal,” he instructs. “Be yourselves, but… normal .” 

Jonathan raises a brow, glancing at Argyle with a very pointed side-eye. “I don’t know if ‘being ourselves’ is the best idea, Mike.”

Will stifles his laughter, while Mike just winces. “Fair point,” he agrees. “Everyone be on your best behavior then. Suzie’s family is… very religious.”

“Yo, man, why are you all looking at me?” Argyle complains. “I’m like super spiritual, dude!”

Mike exchanges a look with both Byers brothers, then he turns back to Argyle, forcing a smile. “Yeah, well… I think they’re spiritual too, just… in a different way.”

Without giving Argyle a chance to respond, Mike turns back to Will and shrugs. “Here goes nothing, I guess,” he says and knocks on the door.

A few moments pass by, and Mike taps his foot impatiently, waiting for someone to answer the door. He nearly goes to knock again, but then the door swings open— finally .

But instead of Suzie or her parents or literally anyone else, Mike finds himself staring at a little boy covered in face paint and holding a toy bow and arrow.

“Oh… hey,” Mike says, blinking in confusion. “Is… Suzie here?”

The little boy—probably one of Suzie’s little brothers—just screams in response, and before Mike can even process what’s going on, the boy shoots a suction-cup arrow directly at his forehead.

“Ow!” Mike lifts his hand to his head, gaping at the kid in surprise. Once again, Suzie’s brother just screams, before running off to do… God knows what.

“That’s a nice look,” Will comments, grinning teasingly. Mike just makes a face at him in return before pulling the arrow off his forehead and hesitantly stepping inside the home.

Suzie’s house is… chaotic, to say the least.

For starters, there are two children standing on the dining room table, dressed in costumes and wearing armor made out of pots and pans, and fighting with play swords. They pay no attention to Mike’s group, and Mike exchanges a confused look with Will as they continue to make their way inside.

Another set of kids are in the middle of filming some… dramatic reenactment of a girl dying? Yeah, honestly Mike isn’t sure. But when Jonathan approaches them and asks where Suzie is, the little boy very nearly bites Jonathan’s head off.

“Kids,” Jonathan grumbles, clearly peeved at getting told off by a nine year-old. “Will, you were never like that.”

Will smiles smugly, while Mike glances over at his friend, feigning an innocent smile. “Was I?”

An amused look forms on Jonathan’s face. “You were worse,” he replies easily. “And you made Will worse.”

“Hey!” 

“Come on,” Will says, rolling his eyes. He takes Mike’s arm, pulling him into the next room. “You can argue about it later.”

Mike makes a face at Jonathan, but he allows himself to get dragged into the kitchen by Will. “Excuse me,” Will says, wincing at the children who are literally cooking dinner and handling huge ass knives… Dear God, where are their parents? “Do you know where Suzie is?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” the girl with the kitchen knife replies snarkily. Then, she slams her knife down and grabs the salt shaker from her brother. “That’s too much salt, Peter! Father’s kidneys; Father’s kidneys!”

Um… okay, Mike thinks to himself. He looks around for the closest way out of the kitchen, but before any of them can move, the lights go out in the house.

“Cornelius!” comes a girl’s exasperated voice. Suzie, maybe? God, Mike hopes so.

Of course, though, it’s not Suzie. It’s some other random sibling—an older girl who looks around Nancy’s age. “How many times do I have to tell you that’s not a toy?” she grumbles, steering the little boy who answered the door away from the breaker. The two siblings walk past Mike’s group, and Suzie’s older sister just gives them a weird look.

“She’s gotta be here somewhere, right?” Mike mutters, following the others out of the kitchen. Surprisingly, Argyle leads the way this time, walking up the stairs and following after Suzie’s siblings. 

Right as they reach the top of the stairs, the older girl from before turns around, giving them another weird look. “Um… who the hell are you?”

Argyle laughs, and holy shit, he sounds kind of nervous. “Argyle,” he responds, a dopey smile on his face. Mike glances at Will, and the two of them share a knowing look.  “And you are?” 

“Eden,” the girl responds, her voice softer and shyer now.

“Like the garden,” Argyle says breathlessly.

“Wow, okay, um, hi,” Jonathan interrupts, pushing back Argyle. “We’re looking for Suzie. Do you know where she is?”

Eden just rolls her eyes. “Third floor, second door on your left,” she says, and Mike’s so happy he could cry. The three of them waste no time in running past Argyle and Eden and heading up another flight of stairs. “If you see her, you make sure to give that selfish, little four-eyed shit a nice little shove for me!”

“See, now that’s how normal siblings interact with each other,” Mike remarks, giving Will and Jonathan a teasing smile. “Not all of us can be like the Byers.”

Both brothers just roll their eyes, but there are matching, fond smiles on their faces. “Okay, second door on the left,” Jonathan mutters, opening up the door to Suzie’s room. 

The entire bedroom is empty, and Jonathan just groans. “Great,” he says, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “She’s not even here!”

A cool breeze blows through the room, and Mike’s brow furrows. He looks around the room again, and—there! The window is wide open, and a smile forms on Mike’s face. “Give her a shove,” he jokes, running up to the window and sticking his head outside.

Sure enough, Suzie stands on top of her roof, wearing a bright yellow hardhat and making adjustments to a near identical version of Dustin’s Cerebro. “Suzie!” Mike calls.

“Yeah?” Suzie turns around, and a look of confusion forms on her face. “Who the heck are you? And what are you doing in my room?”

Mike winces. “Sorry, yeah, yeah, that’s fair! Um…”

Will squirms his way under Mike’s arm, peeking his head out the window. “Hi! We’re Dustin’s friends!” he explains, smiling politely at their best friend’s girlfriend. “And um… well, we sort of need your help? Please?”

Somehow, Will has a way of making everyone feel more comfortable. It’s like… his superpower or something, and thank God that Will is here with Mike. Whereas Suzie had been immediately turned off by Mike’s presence, the expression on her face softens, and she becomes much friendlier after hearing from Will.

“Oh, well, why didn’t you just say so?” she says with a laugh, and she climbs carefully down from the roof. 

“Here, watch out, Mike,” Will murmurs, gently nudging him out of the way. He holds his hand out for Suzie, helping her back through the window, and he smiles sweetly. “Sorry we just showed up like this, but I’m Will, and this is Mike! Oh, and this is my brother, Jonathan and his friend, Argyle.” 

“Hey.” Jonathan smiles awkwardly, holding his hand up to greet the younger girl. 

“Hey there,” Argyle says. “Your sister’s really hot.”

“Okay,” Mike says quickly, and he and Will both move to block Argyle from Suzie. “Ignore him, please. We’re so sorry about him. But uh… we have a bit of a situation having to do with Dustin…”

“It’s nothing bad,” Will adds, when Suzie’s face falls. “Dustin’s alright. We just… need your help with something! Something really important.”

A quizzical look forms on Suzie’s face, and she crosses her arms, studying them closely. “Ooookay,” she says slowly, looking back and forth between Mike and Will. “Let’s hear it then.”

Somehow, by some miracle or divine intervention (Suzie is Mormon after all, so maybe that had something to do with it), everything works out in the end.

You know… other than the fact that Argyle and Eden decided to fucking get high in the back of the pizza van, and now everything smells like weed, which is absolutely disgusting in Mike’s opinion—

“I… cannot believe that worked,” Jonathan remarks, climbing into the driver’s seat of the van. 

Will coughs roughly, cupping his hand over his mouth and squinting his eyes. “Us too,” he says weakly, his voice muffled by his hand. “Now, can you please roll down the windows before we get secondhand high?”

Jonathan gives them an amused look through the rearview mirror, but he obliges, rolling his window down and prompting Argyle to do the same. “You’re not going to get high, Will.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to smell like a pothead!” Will protests, pulling his knees up close to his chest. There’s an adorable pout on his face, and Mike can’t help but laugh. 

The laughter earns him a playful glare from his best friend. “It’s not funny,” Will says, and he makes a face at Mike. 

“Okay, but it’s kind of funny,” Mike says with a grin. “And you’re pouting.”

Will gives him another exasperated look. “You would be too, if you had to live with a pothead.”

“I can still hear you!” Jonathan calls over his shoulder.

“Yeah, you were meant to!” Will replies, rolling his eyes, and Mike just laughs.

“Maybe you guys are becoming normal siblings,” he muses. “Just… took you sixteen years, unlike all the rest of us who started antagonizing our siblings the minute we could talk.”

Will just shakes his head, an annoyed but still fond look on his face. “Jonathan, you know where we’re going now, right?” 

“I’ve got a vague understanding, since we’re heading back to Nevada,” Jonathan says, waving absently at the map. “But if you two could figure out where exactly we’re going…”

Will nods, and he reaches forward, grabbing the map from the front seat. “Yeah, we can do that,” he says, sitting back down closer to Mike and unfolding the map. “Okay, so, the coordinates Suzie gave us take us to this general area…” 

As Will continues to go through the directions to this Nina computer, Mike can’t help but smile. There’s just… something about Will and how easily Mike feels like he can work with him. Even in spite of whatever weird things happened the night before, he and Will spent literally the entire day working together and piggybacking off of one another’s thoughts and ideas. From something as silly as making their fake “video game promotion” story for Suzie, to convincing Suzie to work with them, to planning out the whole heist-like situation to get Suzie to her computer…

It’s like everything the two of them do together just… works, ten times better than if they tried to do it alone. Somehow, Will goes along with every crazy plan that Mike comes up with, and he finds a way to make it even better.

Honestly? Will has a way of making Mike better.

“Mike? Mike!” Will snaps his fingers in front of Mike’s face, and Mike flinches. “Sorry. You spaced out.”

Warmth spreads over Mike’s cheeks. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “I just…” 

Will’s brow furrows. “Yeah?”

Somehow, there are a million thoughts running through Mike’s mind and yet no thoughts whatsoever. Everything still feels so confusing, and Mike has no idea what the right thing to say or do going forward is here.

All he knows is that there’s no place he would rather be than… than right here with Will Byers.

“We make a good team,” Mike decides to say, and he offers Will a small, hesitant smile. “And I’m just… glad to be here… with you.”

A surprised expression crosses Will’s face, but eventually, he smiles—that genuine, tender Will smile. “I’m glad you’re here too, Mike,” he whispers back.

That… thing… that feeling lingers in the air between them, but neither of them say anything else. Instead, Mike just clears his throat, and Will looks away, staring back down at the map. “Okay, so where were we…”

Chapter Text

Chapter Eight

The Paladin and the Cleric

Mike doesn’t sleep very much that night, but when he does, he dreams.

He’s back in Hawkins in his dream—in his basement back home, to be exact. The dream feels so very familiar, almost like it’s an old memory or even an amalgamation of Mike’s most favorite memories and the things he wants the most in life.

He’s sitting around his family’s old card table in the dream, hiding behind his D&D booklet, and surrounded by his best friends. Dustin sits to Mike’s left, his brow furrowed in concentration, and Lucas is in the chair directly to Mike’s right, sitting on the edge of his seat in anticipation. And of course, Will is right across from Mike, his hazel eyes wide and curious. 

It’s been years since the four of them have sat down like this and played through a good old-fashioned D&D campaign, the way they always used to. But in his dream, they’re older and no longer little kids—Dustin wears his favorite thinking cap the way he has for the past year now, Lucas’ letterman jacket hangs on the back of his chair, and Will’s hair falls messily into his face, unlike the neat bowl cut from their childhood.

They’re older now, and yet, they’re all still here… together, playing D&D, and laughing like a bunch of little kids… the way it should be. 

Mike grins at his friends, and he leans forward, lowering his voice to a dramatic whisper, “Something’s coming. Something… hungry for blood.”

(It feels like some old memories, but at the same time, this campaign is different.)

The others lean forward on the edge of their seat, and Mike looks each of his best friends in the eye.  “A shadow grows on the wall behind you, swallowing you in darkness. It is almost here.”

Will makes direct eye contact with Mike, that excited and curious look still on his face. “What is it?!”

Mike opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, two familiar voices yell, “It’s the Demogorgon!” 

All four of them turn to look at El and Max, who have burst into the basement, laughing brightly and holding a bunch of snacks in their hands. “Oh, come on!” Mike complains. “Did you have to ruin it? And how did you even know ?!”

“You’re way too predictable, Wheeler,” Max says with a laugh. She and El set the snacks down on the coffee table, then she walks over, wrapping her arms around Lucas and leaning her head on his. “Now, hurry up, please, so I can have my boyfriend back.”

“Yeah,” El laughs, and she, too, walks over to the table. She stands close to Will instead of Mike, and she grins at them. “You said we could watch movies tonight!”

“We’re almost done! Jesus,” Mike groans, gesturing to the campaign. “Now, hush, you’re messing up the flow!” 

An offended look forms on Max’s face, and she opens her mouth to argue with Mike. Luckily, Lucas just takes her hand and squeezes it reassuringly, as if to say, Just let it go, and Max does. 

Mike clears his throat. “It’s the Demogorgon!” he shouts, slamming the little figurine down onto the table. It doesn’t have the same effect, thanks to El and Max’s interruption, but the rest of the party still plays along, groaning in despair. “Will, your action!”

Will’s eyes widen, and he looks back and forth between Dustin and Lucas. “What should I do?”

“Fireball him!” Lucas shouts, as if it’s obvious. 

Will looks at Dustin, who just studies the Demogorgon statue carefully. Then, Dustin grins, nodding in agreement. “Fireball that son of a bitch, Will.”

Finally, Will looks up at Mike, and the two of them exchange a grin. Without looking away, Will grabs the die and rolls it. All six of them lean forward in anticipation, and Will’s face breaks out into a grin as he yells, “Fourteen!”

All of them—even the girls—burst out into laughter and cheering. “A direct hit!” Mike shouts, and like the others, he jumps to his feet, dramatically acting out the last parts of his campaign. “Will the Wise’s fireball hits the Demogorgon, and it lets out a pained screech, falling to the ground! It reaches for you one last time—and, and, and!”

Mike falls to the ground dramatically, and the other party members just cheer and laugh even more. Even El and Max are enjoying themselves, despite not participating in the campaign, and from his place on the floor, Mike grins to himself.

This is exactly how things are supposed to be—the entire party, together, laughing and playing D&D and just being with each other. This is everything that Mike wants and that he’s been missing.

Mike closes his eyes, unable to stop himself from smiling, and for a moment, he just lies there on the ground, soaking up the joyful sound of his friends’ laughter and cheering. Yeah. This is exactly how things are supposed to be, and Mike just feels happy.

Someone’s shoulder brushes against Mike’s, and he opens his eyes. Beside him, none other than Will Byers has sprawled out on the ground, an amused smile on his face. 

“Hi?” Mike just says, turning on his side to look at Will better. 

“Hi, yourself,” Will replies, following Mike’s lead and doing the same. The two of them are only mere inches apart from each other now, and Will smiles—his familiar, warm Will smile that never fails to make things feel right in the world. “Figured you needed some company down here.”

“Always,” Mike whispers back, and instinctively, he glances at Will’s lips.

Likewise, Will does the same. Suddenly, nothing else seems to matter, and as if there were some magnetic force pulling them together, Mike moves closer and closer to his best friend until—

The radio sitting on the edge of Mike’s desk begins to play a song that’s vaguely familiar. Pass the Dutchie, ‘pon the left hand side… 

“Aw, man! I love this song!” says a familiar voice, and Mike blinks. “Turn it up, Byers!”

Argyle? he thinks to himself, looking around the basement. What the hell is Argyle doing here? That… doesn’t make any sense. Still, the song continues to play in the background, Pass the Dutchie, ‘pon the left hand side; pass the Dutchie, ‘pon the left hand side …

“Jonathan, slow down!” another voice shouts, and Mike blinks. It sounds like Will, but… that doesn’t make any sense. Will is right in front of him. “You’re veering off the side of the road again!”

“It’s fine, Will,” the other voice— Jonathan?—groans. “Just calm down.”

Mike blinks in confusion, looking around the room. The radio continues to play that familiar song, louder and louder until—

This is a dream, Mike realizes.

It’s at that moment that he finally opens his eyes, blinking in confusion and trying to separate his dream from reality. 

None of the party members but Will are here, and instead of his basement, Mike finds himself curled up in the back of Argyle’s van. That’s right. He’s not home, and neither are Will and El. The only party members still in Hawkins are Dustin, Lucas and Max. The rest of them are scattered across the country, separated and desperately trying to find their way back to each other.

It had all been a dream.

“You’re going to get us killed, Jonathan,” Will snaps, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “You need to sleep!”

“We don’t have time to make another stop, Will!” Jonathan snaps back. “It’s fine.”

“Oh my God,” Will sighs, and he runs a hand over his face, taking a deep breath. “How about a compromise then? We don’t have to stop. Just pull over, and I’ll drive.”

It’s silent in the van, save for the sound of Argyle singing along to that stupid song, and Mike looks back and forth between the two siblings. Like his brother, Jonathan runs a hand over his face tiredly, and he sighs. “You don’t have your license yet. Remember? We were supposed to go sometime this week.” 

The words are like a cold bucket of water dumped onto Mike’s head, and his eyes widen. Holy shit, he thinks to himself. He feels like a complete idiot, yet again.

That’s right. Will’s sixteen now. Will can get his driver’s license. 

Oh. And Will’s birthday present? Yeah, it’s back at his now destroyed Lenora home.

Will raises a brow. “And? We’re literally fugitives on the run from the government. I can drive, Jonathan. You need to sleep.”

Jonathan sighs again, but this time, he gives in and pulls over on the side of the road. “Argyle, get up,” he says, opening the door and getting out of the car. “Mike, you navigate. Will, please try not to crash.”

A satisfied look forms on Will’s face, and he opens the back of the van, climbing out and smiling at Mike. “Morning, by the way,” he says as the two of them walk up to the front, swapping places with Jonathan and Argyle. “Did you sleep alright?”

Mike gives him a wry smile. “As well as someone can when they’ve been stuck in the back of a van for the last few days.”

“Fair point,” Will chuckles, turning his attention back to the road. The van jerks forward rather violently as Will puts his foot on the gas, and Mike can’t help but laugh, putting his hands out to stop himself from running into the dashboard.

“Why am I not surprised that you’re a bad driver?” he teases. 

An indignant look forms on Will’s face. “I’ve been driving for maybe five seconds!” he protests. “I’m not a bad driver!”

Mike raises a brow, and he glances back at Jonathan, who just smirks. “If it makes you feel better, Nancy says I’m a shitty driver too,” Mike says helpfully. “And there’s no way either of us are as bad as Max. I’m surprised she even passed her driver’s test.”

Will very uncharacteristically flips Mike off, and yeah, that does it. Mike bursts into laughter, and soon, Will joins in with the laughter, unable to help himself. “You’re such an asshole.”

“And yet, you still keep me around.” Mike smirks. 

Will’s cheeks turn red, and he glances over at Mike, a small smile on his face. “Eh, I don’t think there’s any way I could get rid of you now,” he teases softly. “I… I think I’d miss you too much.”

Now, warmth spreads over Mike’s cheeks, and he returns Will’s smile with a small, shy smile of his own. “Well, I’m glad you don’t want to get rid of me.”

Will just smiles and turns his attention back to the road, and a comfortable silence settles over the two of them. Both Jonathan and Argyle have already fallen asleep in the back of the van, and the radio plays softly in the background.

As the song fades away, the radio host begins to talk, making some dumb joke about the previous song and his love life. “And now,” he says, “we’ve got an oldie but a goodie for you. Up next is Heroes by David Bowie.”

“This was on your birthday gift,” Mike blurts out, before he can even stop himself.

A surprised look forms on Will’s face; he blinks and turns to Mike. “What?”

Warmth spreads across Mike’s cheeks again. Apparently, his mouth has a mind of its own now, so that’s cool. “Your, um… your birthday gift,” he says awkwardly. “I… sort of made you a mixtape? Of a bunch of songs that I thought you’d like or-or… that reminded me of you.”

“Oh.” Now, it’s Will’s turn to blush, and he smiles shyly at Mike, before looking away again. “I… wow. I honestly didn’t think you remembered. I-I mean… just… with how different everything’s been and because we hadn’t seen each other in so long….”

The words feel like a punch in the gut, and Mike swallows the lump in his throat, fiddling with the hem of his jacket. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I, um… I figured it’d be easier to just give it to you in person, you know? And I-I tried to call—honestly, I did. But your phone is always busy every time I try to call you, so… I guess… yeah.”

The look on Will’s face is unreadable, and he frowns slightly, going quiet. With the exception of David Bowie singing in the background, it’s so quiet in the van. Mike can hear the nervous thump thump thump of his own heartbeat.

“It doesn’t really matter now anyways,” he adds. “All my shit got left back at your house when the shootout happened, so… I… I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” Will says quickly. He glances back between Mike and the road, and there’s a reassuring smile on his face. “It’s not your fault… And besides, birthdays aren’t… they’re not that big of a deal. I’m not upset or anything.”

Mike offers him a weak smile in return. “I still want to make it up to you,” he says, his voice soft. “You know… after we save the world and stuff. If we save the world and stuff. I’ll just… make you a new mixtape.”

Will bites down on his lip, and he turns back to Mike, a soft look in his eyes. “Kind of a shame we don’t have it now,” he says with a weak laugh. “A road trip would’ve been the perfect time to listen to it.”

“Well, we’ll just have to go on another road trip soon then,” Mike suggests without even hesitating. “Without Jonathan and Argyle this time. And without the U.S. government hunting us down.”

Will just laughs, his eyes crinkling ever so slightly. “I like that plan. And we’ll both have our licenses then, so… it’ll be perfect.”

“Yeah.” Mike just smiles back, and Will glances over, meeting his eyes and offering a soft smile of his own. “It will.”

The closer they get to Suzie’s coordinates, the more anxious Mike becomes.

Honestly, having all the time in the world to do nothing but sit and think is both the best and worst thing that has happened to Mike on this trip. There are far, far too many confused and anxious thoughts running around inside his head, and given the fact that he’s running on only a few hours of fitful sleep, Mike doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. He has too many problems—problems that, granted, are pretty insignificant in the grand scheme of things—that he can’t solve on his own and too many questions that he just doesn’t know the answer to. It’s infuriating, and Mike goes back and forth constantly inside his head, trying to figure a way out.

Problem/question #1: Eleven.

Okay, El isn’t necessarily the problem. It’s just… all the confusing messes that surround Mike’s relationship with El. It’s the fact that she’s been lying to him and hiding things this whole time. It’s her question of whether or not Mike only sees her as a superhero, instead of her own person. It’s… it’s whether he actually loves El, the way she wants him to. The way Mike wants himself to. 

Because it’s El . El is incredible. She’s kind and brave and pretty. She’s the first girl who dared to even look at Mike, let alone be interested in him. She’s one of the most selfless people Mike knows, and he owes her his life a dozen times over. It’s El. Why wouldn’t he love her? 

Which, then leads into problem/question #2: Will.

Again… Will isn’t the problem here. Just like with El, Mike is the problem. Because Will actually hasn’t changed that much—he’s still Will, the kid that Mike has spent the last eleven years of his life with. He’s still Mike’s best friend, but he’s also so much more than that. Will… he’s Mike’s person, and he always has been. For as long as Mike can remember, it’s always been Mike and Will against the world. Things have always just felt… right with Will around.

And therein lies problem/question #3: What exactly are Mike’s feelings towards Will?

Because there’s no denying that Will is the most important person in Mike’s life. Even with El in the picture, Mike can say now without a shadow of doubt now that Will still holds the number one place in his life. His friendship with Will has always been different, but… but Mike had never even thought about the fact that… that it could…

Well, that… it could be because he likes Will… not just in a platonic way. 

And that question, of course, leads into the most confusing and stressful of all Mike’s problems/questions: Is he… bisexual? Or… or gay? Or whatever other sexualities (because according to Eddie, there are plenty of them) might be out there? 

It’s forced conformity, Eddie’s voice echoes inside Mike’s head, and he swallows the lump in his throat. Has he fallen into that trap of conformity this whole time? 

And if… if he is gay or bisexual or… or whatever else he could be, then what does that mean for Mike going forward? Has he been lying this entire time to El? And to himself? Because God, if so, then Mike feels like such a shitty person, and no matter what happens between them, El doesn’t deserve that or deserve any of his shit, and God, he’s such a mess—

Needless to say, the closer they get to the coordinates—to El—the more anxious Mike becomes.

“Hey.” Will’s soft voice snaps Mike out of his thoughts, and Mike blinks, turning to look at his best friend. There’s concern written all over Will’s face. “Are you… okay?”

(Shit. Leave it to Will Byers to see right through Mike, even when Mike hasn’t said anything. Mike doesn’t know whether to be touched, embarrassed, or annoyed.)

“Y-yeah,” Mike says, forcing a weak smile. “Just… got a lot on my mind, I guess.”

Will’s expression softens; he offers Mike a reassuring smile. “El’s going to be alright,” he promises. “You don’t need to worry. She’s okay. I know it.”

Mike’s mouth feels dry, and he looks down, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I… I know,” he says with a shrug. “I guess… It’s not just that. It’s… other things too.”

Will’s brow furrows, and he tilts his head slightly, looking at Mike in concern. “What do you mean?” he asks softly.

Despite the fact that Jonathan and Argyle are right there, it somehow still feels like it’s only Mike and Will in the van… in the world . Everything always feels so much smaller around Will—far more manageable and far less scary.

And if Mike can’t be honest with Will, then… then there’s really no one he can be honest with.

“I… I don’t know… I guess… These past… these past couple years have been weird,” Mike admits, turning to meet Will’s eyes. “And I… I’ve had a lot of time to… to really think about that over the past few days, and… I guess…”

Mike pauses, and he looks away, trying to figure out just what he’s trying to say. “Sometimes… I don’t know who I am anymore,” he says quietly. It’s an admission that hurts to say aloud, but at the same time, it feels oddly… freeing. “Things have just… changed so much, and I… I can’t keep up with it. And… and because of that, I don’t… I don’t know how to be what… what other people need, you know? So, it feels like… all my relationships, they’re just… falling apart, and… and everyone keeps… moving on, while I’m just stuck here, still… lost. And confused.” 

Mike forces himself to take a shuddered breath, looking down. “Honestly, it’s all just stupid,” he admits. “But sometimes… I get scared that everyone else will keep… moving on, and eventually, they won’t… they won’t need me anymore. And everything will just keep changing, and I’ll never catch up.”

It’s quiet in the van, and Mike wrings his hands. A nervous laugh escapes his lips. “Sorry,” he whispers, looking over at Will. “None of this even matters right now, and it’s so… so stupid given everything that’s going on right now… But I don’t know… I don’t know. I just—”

“You’re scared,” Will says, his voice soft. “Of… of losing people you love.”

There’s a certain kind of hesitancy and understanding in Will’s voice, and for a moment, all Mike can do is stare at his best friend. It’s like the entire world has stopped—just for the two of them. Right here, right now… in this moment.

I’m scared of losing you, Mike thinks to himself, but he doesn’t say it out loud.

Instead, he just nods slightly, and Will takes a breath, a resolved look in his eyes. “Can I… can I show you something?” he asks softly, and once again, all Mike can do is nod. His heart pounds inside his chest; he has no words to say. And yet in spite of that, Mike knows that Will still gets him.

Will reaches down into his backpack, slowly pulling something out. He hesitantly looks back at Mike and holds the object—that rolled up painting from the airport—out for Mike to take, and as Mike reaches for the painting, their hands brush against each other.

Something like a jolt of electricity hits Mike, and he can barely think straight. His heart beats restlessly inside his chest—thump thump thump. The butterflies in his stomach have returned, more alive than ever. His hands are clammy and shaking, but slowly, Mike unravels Will’s painting.

And of course, it takes his breath away.

There, masterfully painted on the poster, is the party—their party. The lifelike images of Dustin and Lucas and Mike and Will himself dressed as their D&D characters are absolutely beautiful, and every little detail from the years of developing these characters with his best friends is shown on the paper. 

The bard. 

The ranger. 

The paladin. 

And the cleric.

The painting is everything Mike loves about the party. It’s perfect.

“This is amazing,” Mike says breathlessly, unable to keep a stupidly wide smile from forming on his face. “Did you paint this?”

(Of course, Will painted this. The painting has Will Byers written all over it. No one else in the world would be so intentional and go to such great lengths to include the detail in this painting that Will has. Of course, Will painted it and poured his heart into it, just like he’s always done in the past. It’s Will.)

“Y-yeah,” Will stammers. He’s blushing now, and he looks away, quickly adding, “I… I mean, El… she asked me to. She basically commissioned it, and… she told me what to draw.”

Wait, what? Mike thinks. No… that… doesn’t make any sense… does it?

“Anyway,” Will says quickly, before Mike even has a chance to respond. “My… my point is… You see how you’re leading us here? You’re guiding the whole party and… and inspiring us. That’s what you do, Mike. That’s what you’ve always done.”

Will smiles shyly, and he points at the painting. “And see your coat of arms here? It’s… it’s a heart. And I know it’s sort on the nose and cheesy, but… but that’s what holds this whole party together. Heart. Because without heart, I mean… we’d all fall apart.”

There’s a hesitant look on Will’s face, like he’s still trying to decide what he wants to say. Then, he just turns to Mike, that familiar, gentle, and oh so Will look in his eyes. “And I know… I know you’re scared of losing people,” he says softly. “Of losing El. I… I mean… These past couple years she’s been… so lost without you.”

“It’s just… she’s so different from other people,” Will whispers. He’s turned away from Mike once more, but Mike can’t bring himself to do the same. No, Will has his complete and undivided attention, and Mike finds himself hanging on every single word his best friend says and trying so hard to understand. Things just… don’t quite feel right. Something is off about what Will is saying—about the painting, about El—but Mike can’t quite put his finger on it.

“And… and when you’re different…” Will’s voice cracks. He takes a shuddered breath, and God, Mike wishes he didn’t feel completely frozen because all he wants to do is reach out and be there for Will. “Sometimes, you feel like… like a mistake.”

The words are a gut punch; suddenly, Mike feels breathless in the worst way possible. Before he can even try to say anything, Will turns back around to look at him once more, his eyes glassy. “But you make her feel like she’s not a mistake at all,” he says, pouring everything he can into his speech. “Like… like she’s better for being different. And that gives her the courage to fight on.”

That… that feeling hangs in the air between them. And slowly, Mike begins to get it. 

Oh, he thinks to himself. Oh.

This… this isn’t about El.

It’s never been about El... has it?

Oh.

“And if… if she was mean to you or-or she seemed like she was pushing you away, it’s because she’s scared of losing you, just like you’re scared of losing her,” Will says. His words are rushed—nervous and reckless but full of all sorts of emotions that Mike can’t begin to wrap his brain around. “And if… if she was going to lose you, I… I think she’d rather just get it over quick, like… like ripping off a bandaid.”

Suddenly, all at once, things… just click.

The awkwardness in the few letters they sent one another.

The lack of phone calls back and forth.

The distance and coldness between them.

The chasm that seemed near impossible to cross.

Like ripping off a bandaid.

Oh.

“So, yeah,” Will whispers, and he smiles at Mike through his tears. “El needs you, Mike. And she always will.”

It’s funny. For as long as the two of them have been friends, the two of them have always known each other. There’s nobody else who knows Mike better than Will does. And likewise, Mike has always known Will—sometimes even better than Mike knows and understands himself. There’s something about their friendship that has always made Mike and Will able to see and to hear and to know each other better than anyone else.

And yet, stuck in the back of a van in the middle of nowhere Nevada, Mike feels like he’s seeing Will for the first time all over again. And like all the times before, he hears exactly what Will is trying to say.

“So, yeah. 

I need you, Mike.

And I always will.”

Mike’s heart pounds inside his chest. His mind races at a thousand miles per hour, and he can barely process the situation… or the implications of what he’s just realized.

Will has feelings for Mike.

Will has feelings for Mike.

Holy shit.

Warmth spreads across Mike’s cheeks, and he smiles, unable to help himself. “Yeah?” 

Will returns the smile, blinking back his tears. “Yeah,” he whispers, and for a moment, the two of them just stare at each other, neither one of them saying another word. 

I need you too, Mike wants to say, but his brain just isn’t functioning. He still feels completely frozen in place, unable to do anything but sit there as the realization fully, truly begins to set in.

Will has feelings for him.

So… what now then? that curious voice in the back of his mind asks. 

I… I don’t know, Mike thinks.

Finally, the moment is broken, and Will breaks their gaze. He turns away from Mike, looking out the window instead, and Mike can practically feel that chasm growing between the two of them once more.

“If she was going to lose you, I… I think she’d rather just get it over quick, like… like ripping off a bandaid.”

Like ripping off a bandaid.

Shit, how could Mike be such an idiot? How could he not have noticed this or put two and two together? This is why Will pushed him away. Because… because he was scared of losing Mike, the same exact way Mike has been scared of losing Will this whole damn time.

And now, the truth is out there in the open—though hidden under the guise of a relationship that Mike… Mike doesn’t even know the state of anymore. 

Will has feelings for him.

And what about you? that voice questions. Do you have feelings for Will?

Mike swallows the lump in his throat, and he stares down at Will’s painting. He still has too many unanswered questions… about El, about Will, and… and about himself.

But there have been too many moments during this road trip for all of this to be a coincidence. Even something as simple as… as that electrifying, dizzying feeling that always seems to follow Mike and Will around… it must be some kind of indication of how he feels… right?

For some reason, Eleven’s words from before echo through Mike’s mind.

“If you have to ask that, Mike, then we both know what your answer is.”

Mike swallows the lump in his throat, and he dares to look over at Will, whose back is still turned away from him. Despite being so close, Will suddenly feels completely out of Mike’s reach, and Mike aches. Everything in him just wants things to go back to how they were between the two of them—back when they could just be Mike and Will. 

God, he wants that more than anything. It’s terrifying to think about, but Mike knows it’s the truth. He can’t lose Will. He won’t lose Will. 

There’s your answer, that knowing voice whispers. 

Oh, Mike thinks to himself, still frozen in place, as if he hasn't just had the most ground-breaking, world-changing realization about himself. The butterflies in his stomach have returned, and Mike finds himself staring at Will again… but this time, in a totally different light.

Oh.

Against all odds, they find El.

It takes them a few more hours stuck in a painfully awkward and quiet van, and Mike spends most of the afternoon wishing the ground would just swallow him whole. But against all the odds, they finally reach Eleven, and holy fucking shit, she’s different. 

The moment Mike sees the explosions in the distance, he knows it’s her. She’s just a little silhouette from this far away—barely visible to any of them—but then the helicopters come crashing down to the ground and Mike just knows.

Eleven is right there, and she has her powers back. 

Which means they actually have a shot at saving Hawkins.

Mike is so happy he could cry.

Jonathan drives like a complete madman over to where El is standing, and his foot is barely even on the brake when Mike opens the door and all but throws himself out of the van. Will is right behind him, and the two of them sprint towards El with no hesitation.

“Eleven!” Mike shouts. “El!” 

El turns around, a shocked expression on her face, and she barely has any time to process their arrival before Mike falls to the ground beside her and pulls her into a hug. In spite of everything—their fight, all of Mike’s confusion, and his own recent revelations about himself—Mike can’t help but cry.

Because El is here. She’s safe. She’s alive. And God, Mike is so, so happy.

“Mike?” El whispers, and she wraps her arms around him, choking back a sob. “You’re here?”

“I’m here,” Mike whispers back. Both of them pull away slightly, smiling at one another, and Mike leans his forehead against El’s gently. “We’re all here.”

In near perfect sync, both he and El turn to where Will is standing to the side, and Will just offers his sister a watery smile. A choked laugh escapes El’s mouth, and without any hesitation, she stumbles to her feet, running over to Will and leaving Mike behind.

“Eleven,” Will laughs breathlessly as the two of them collide into each other. Both siblings begin to cry as they hold onto one another like a lifeline.  

Mike can’t help but smile to himself as he watches the two of them. It’s… a little strange, seeing just how close Will and El are now, especially after only seeing them interact for a day before things went to shit. But now, watching the two siblings speak quietly to one another and go off into their own little world, all Mike can do is smile.

Whatever comes next for them… whatever confusion he might have or feelings he might not understand, Mike does know one thing for sure.

The two most important people in his life—the two people who take up the most space in Mike’s heart—are right here. They’re safe, and they’re okay.

Whatever happens next, he has Will, and he has El. 

And somehow, they’ll figure out a way for all of them to be okay.

Chapter Text

Chapter Nine 

The Heart

So… as it turns out, things are much, much worse than any of them could have ever imagined.

It’s… a lot. Eleven tells them everything, and she holds nothing back from her recounting of her time at the Nina Project. It’s quiet in their van as she speaks, recalling every single painful memory from her experience in the lab, the steps that Brenner and Owens took to help her regain her powers, and the messy history that exists between her and One.

One. The monster that has been terrorizing Hawkins and murdering people left and right is a number , just like Eleven is. He’s just one of over a dozen children that Brenner experimented on and groomed to do his bidding. All of this… these murders, the near end of the world beginning in Hawkins… it can all be traced back to Brenner.

Brenner created a monster.

But he also created a superhero.

At the end of the day, the only chance Hawkins has against One is Eleven. She’s beat him before—hell, back when she was a literal child—and sure, One has probably gotten stronger since then… But so has El. Her display of powers out in the desert just proves that. If Hawkins is going to stand a chance—if their friends are going to stand a chance—then El has to make it back to Hawkins.

(Oh yeah. That’s another thing. The party? They’re a bunch of idiots. Complete idiots. Yes, Mike has thrown himself headfirst into danger before, and yes, he has also been an idiot. But nearly every other time he has done that, they’ve had El there with them. Now, his best friends and his sister and all the other idiots in Mike’s life who have lived through these past few years of utter chaos together? 

Yeah. They want to storm the goddamn Upside Down themselves. 

Idiots. All of them are idiots. And they say that Mike is the stupid one.)

“Son of a bitch,” Jonathan curses, slamming the phone back down and running a hand through his hair. He looks over at Mike, Will, and El, and he shakes his head. “They don’t have any open seats.”

“Fuck,” Mike swears, while El and Will just exchange worried looks. “And you told them it was an emergency, right?”

 Jonathan gives him an exasperated look. “You were standing right here. Obviously, I told them it was an emergency!”

"And they still wouldn’t listen?” 

“Jesus Christ, Mike, do you really think we’d still be standing here if they did?” Jonathan practically shouts. God, he’s been in a bad mood practically all day, and yeah… Mike gets it. They’re all fucking tired, the world is about to end, and nothing is going right. But still, Jonathan’s behavior is unusual, even for him, and Mike can’t help but be annoyed. “Nobody has any available flights!”

“Well, maybe you’re just not trying hard enough,” Mike snaps, the frustration rising inside his chest. “Next time… I don’t know! Make up some lie! Tell them that our grandma’s dying or some shit like that!”

A frustrated look crosses Jonathan’s face, and he opens his mouth to respond. Before he can though, Will puts a hand on his brother’s chest and steps between the two of them, giving both Mike and Jonathan a look. “Look, I know we’re all stressed right now, but you both need to calm down,” Will says firmly. 

Will very pointedly looks at Mike, as if to say, Stop it. You’re stressing him out, and Mike scrunches his nose. 

Fine.

“We still have one more airline to call,” Will says, his voice gentler now. “Just… try to schmooze or-or something, Jonathan. Lie, do whatever, like Mike said! They have to have an extra seat… They have to. We have to get El back to Hawkins.”

Jonathan just sighs heavily, and he leans his forehead against the payphone. “Okay,” he says, clearly resigned to the fact that there’s little left they can do to get El back to Hawkins in time. “What’s the number?”

As Will reads off the next phone number for the last airline, Mike turns to El and offers her a weak smile. “You doing alright?” he asks softly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

El flinches ever so slightly, and she mumbles a quick answer, before turning away from him. Clearly, she’s not in the mood to talk, and Mike winces, lowering his hand. 

Things have been… weird since they finally caught up with El. It’s not El’s fault at all. Obviously, she’s been through literal hell being stuck with Brenner for the last several days, and she’s clearly exhausted. Mike doesn’t blame her for being quiet or for keeping to herself. He’d probably do the same.

But the reintroduction of El back into the group just increases the awkwardness tenfold. It’s gotten to the point where even Argyle can’t make jokes about it anymore. Unlike before, when the four of them somehow managed to work fairly well as a team (a chaotic and really stupid yet still effective team), things just feel… different now. 

Or maybe it’s just Will and Mike.

Because since finding Eleven again, Will has… pulled away. He’s become quieter and more closed off, just like he was when Mike first arrived in California. That chasm between the two of them has returned, separating Will from Mike once more and growing larger and larger with each passing moment.

It sucks. It sucks , and Mike hates it—hates that Will is right here but still somehow so far away. He hates that, after spending nearly two years feeling like he’d lost Will and then suddenly finding him again in a matter of days, now Mike is right back where he started. He hates how quickly things have changed again and how he can never, ever seem to keep up with everything.

God, Will is right here, and Mike misses him so damn much that it hurts.

And now… now that he gets it, now that he is finally starting to understand his feelings towards Will (and Will’s feelings for him) and realize the extent of these feelings lingering between them, things just make… so much more sense. 

It explains why it had hurt so much to feel Will pulling away from him and why Mike had been so scared of losing him.

It explains why Mike has felt so lost and so confused over the past two years without Will in his life.

It explains why—despite every Godawful thing the universe has thrown at them—Mike has felt more like himself these past few days than he has in the past few years.

And it explains why things just… aren’t working out with El.

Because… here’s the thing. Mike… knows he cares for El. He knows he does. And he knows that… at one point or another, he had feelings for her. Back when they were younger and when El had disappeared, Mike remembers missing her so much it hurt. He felt miserable that whole year, just like he did during the week Will went missing.

And… and when the two of them were together, back when they both lived in Hawkins, Mike liked being with El. Of course, he did. El is pretty and kind, and she’s easy to be around. She’s an incredible person—selfless, brave, heroic, and everything that Mike wants to be. The two of them can laugh together about stupid things like… like how sometimes Hopper used to smell really bad after coming home from work. And kissing El was fun too, or as fun as kissing could be at fourteen years old. (Honestly, Mike’s pretty certain neither of them were ever that good at kissing, but it didn’t matter. It’s not like they were going around and kissing other people anyways.)

Mike cares about El. He knows he does. Hell, he even loves El, at least to some extent. If asked to die for El, he would say yes in a heartbeat. There’s no doubt about it.

But now… after finally opening his eyes to this… thing with Will—these feelings for Will—Mike is… honestly dumbfounded. And he kind of feels like an idiot.

It’s not fair to compare Will and El or his relationship to either of them, but it’s the best way that Mike can even begin to figure out what’s going on in his brain. Even when things were at their best with El, Mike… Mike honestly doesn’t think those moments even begin to compare to the dizzying, terrifying, and exhilarating moments that he’s spent with Will just in this past week alone.

Because with Will, things just feel right. With Will, it feels like every single puzzle piece slots into place and like everything is suddenly working in harmony once more. With Will, the rest of the world feels so far away in the best way possible, and the universe—massive and overwhelming that it may be—shrinks and shrinks and shrinks until the only thing left at all is Mike and Will. Together. The way it has always been.

It’s all still… difficult for Mike to wrap his mind around. Just how long has he had these feelings for Will? Because sure, this week has done wonders for their friendship, but when he really stops to think about it, these feelings… they’re not new. Maybe they’re more noticeable, as if his separation from and subsequent reunion with Will have amplified the feelings, but they’re not new.

If Mike is being completely honest with himself, he thinks that maybe… maybe those feelings have always been there. 

And that maybe it’s always been Will.

Honestly though, Mike still feels like he has more questions than he does answers, and God, there are still so many things he doesn’t know about himself yet. Like… is it possible to be mostly straight, but have feelings for just one guy? Or has Mike ever had feelings for another guy (other than Will, of course) and just didn’t realize it? It obviously took him this long to realize his feelings for his best friend, so God knows if he’s ever had feelings for any other guy. And how does one figure out their sexuality? How is Mike supposed to know all these things about himself?

And those are just his questions about figuring out his sexuality. Mike does not want to think about any of the implications of this realization on… on his friendships or on his relationships with his family… or any of that. What happens if suddenly… suddenly he doesn’t fit everyone’s expectations for him? What then? 

He can’t think about any of that right now. It’s too much.

Needless to say, after all this is said and done, he really needs to sit down with Eddie and just… lay it all out there for him. All the messiness and the confusion and the conflicting feelings. Surely, Eddie has been where Mike is at before. It’s Eddie. He’ll know what to do, and he’ll probably go off on some long tangent about societal standards and bullshit and all that to help Mike get it. 

All he has to do is survive that long.

And in the meantime… as difficult as it might be, Mike knows he needs to talk to El. The way they left things was just a complete mess, and despite the way his feelings for her might have changed, he still does genuinely care for El. There’s no way he can keep going forward in good conscience and figuring out this whole mess with Will before he fixes things with El.

The only problem now is… finding the time to sit down and talk to El. Yeah, that’s going to be difficult, considering El has way more important things to worry about than Mike and his whole confusing, fucked up mess. 

All of this will just have to wait until El defeats One, and then, Mike will sit down with her and address things. 

Just like with Eddie though, all of this hinges on both El and Mike even surviving that long.

“Damn it,” Jonathan swears, slamming the phone back down.

Mike flinches as Jonathan turns back around, a frustrated look on his face. “What’d they say?” Will asks, though Mike gets the feeling they all know the answer to his question.

“Earliest is tomorrow,” Jonathan reports, and he runs a hand through his hair. “They wouldn’t listen.”

“Shit,” Mike curses. “Shit, no, no…. That’s too late. We’ll be too late.” 

“Hey, dudes.” Argyle walks up to them, a grin on his face. Mike kind of wants to deck him. “Ask them if we can ride in the baggage compartment.”

A beat passes. Then another. And another.

“The baggage compartment?” Jonathan echoes, as if he didn’t quite hear the other teen correctly.

“We… we’d suffocate,” Will points out.

Argyle shrugs. “Dogs ride in there all the time, man. They don’t suffocate.”

“Holy shit,” Mike mutters, and he turns to Will, who looks just as done as Mike does. It doesn’t take much for Mike Wheeler to reach the end of his rope, but it does take a hell of a lot to get Will Byers there. The fact that Will is as annoyed and exhausted as Mike is says a lot about how their week has been.

(He’s going to need another vacation… both of them are. If Hawkins doesn’t go up in flames and they survive to summer break, Mike is actually going to drag Will on another road trip far, far away from this chaos.)

“I have a way,” comes a familiar voice, and Mike blinks, turning to look at El. She approaches the three of them, a determined and confident look on her face. “A way to protect Max and fight One. From here.”

How? Mike nearly asks, but Will beats him to it. There’s a hopeful look on his face when he says, “You do?”

El turns to her brother, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yes,” she says with a nod, and she motions for them to follow her. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

There’s no hesitation at all from Will. He’s the first to follow after El, and he trusts her fully and completely. 

With a small smile, Mike follows after the two siblings, standing beside Will in front of the window of the van. Likewise, Argyle and Jonathan follow suit, and El steps forward, blowing on the window to create condensation. 

She begins to draw stick figures, quickly explaining, “This is Max. When One attacks, he will be in her mind. But I can do that too. I went into Mama’s mind, into Billy’s. I can go into Max’s. She can carry me to One. I can piggyback. I can protect her. From One. Fight him from here.”

Mike just stares at his (ex?) girlfriend. It’s a genius idea—albeit dangerous, of course. But it’s the best plan they have right now, and it might be their only chance at saving Max and stopping One from destroying Hawkins and the rest of the world.

“Mind fight,” Argyle exclaims. “Righteous!”

“You really think this will work?” Mike says hesitantly. 

El nods, that determined look still on her face. “A bathtub would help.”

Okay, right, right. A sensory deprivation tank. Mike’s mind is racing a million miles an hour, trying to think of different places they might be able to get access to the items needed to make a tank. They could get a motel room, but then they’ll also need a lot of salt…

“Yeah, gotta be clean to enter the mind,” Argyle agrees.

Mike pauses, and he glances at Will, who looks equally confused. “No, no, she’s talking about a sensory deprivation tank,” Mike explains. “It… helps her calm down and focus on her powers. We… built one when El was looking for Will a few years back.”

“Well, we just passed a motel on the way back,” Will suggests. “We could get a room… That would have a tub.”

“No.” Jonathan shakes his head, exchanging a look with Mike. “No way a motel would have that much salt. I don’t know anyone who would have that much salt out here… It’s not like it really snows in Nevada.”

“Well, how much salt are we talking about here, my dudes?” Argyle pipes up. 

Jonathan sighs. “Depends on the size of the tub, but… a lot.”

A thoughtful look forms on Argyle’s face, and he stares at El with a scrutinizing look on his face. “Does 600 pounds suffice?”

In almost perfect sync, Mike, Jonathan, Will, and even El turn to look at Argyle, all wearing similar looks of confusion and disbelief.  “You know a place that has 600 pounds of salt?” Mike asks, raising an eyebrow.

Argyle just smiles, and he steps in front of El, doing… Actually, Mike doesn’t… know what’s doing. “Yep… yep,” Argyle says, holding his arms out in front of El. 

“Jesus,” Will mutters under his breath, and Mike turns to him, shaking his head. The two exchange an annoyed look, and Will’s expression seems to say, What the hell is happening?

No fucking clue. Mike shrugs.

“Yep, it’ll work,” Argyle says triumphantly.

El looks at him, exasperation written all over her face. “What will work?”

“I know of a magical place that has all you need, my brave little superpowered friend,” he says brightly. “That mind fight is on!”

Then, without giving any of them a chance to ask what the hell he’s talking about, Argyle walks over to the driver’s side and gets inside the van. “Come on, vamonos! Let’s go! Pronto! We’ve got a world to save!”

“Do… you have any idea where we’re going?” Mike mutters as all four of them run back into the van.

Will  just offers him a weak smile. “Not the slightest clue.”

“El?” Mike asks.

“Nope,” El replies, shaking her head. There’s a small, hesitant smile on her face. “I guess we just… trust him?”

“Oh God,” Mike groans, and he buries his head in his hands. “We’re so screwed.”

Four years ago, if you had told Mike Wheeler that he would be stuck trying to make a sensory deprivation tank in some random ass pizza place in Nevada with the Byers siblings and a random stoner, all so that a girl with superpowers could save the entire world from a demon monster thing in an alternate dimension, he probably would’ve laughed in your face.

But this kind of weird shit? Yeah, that’s his life now. This hardly even comes close to all the weirdness that is Mike Wheeler’s life. Stranger things have happened, and yeah, there’s a high likelihood that they’ll keep on happening.

So even though Mike’s mind still can’t fully process this entire situation, he quickly jumps into action with the others and does his part to help build the sensory deprivation tank. It’s all too reminiscent of that evening back in 1983 when all of them banded together to build a tank for El in the Hawkins Middle School gymnasium. 

God, things have changed so much since that year. Mike has changed so much. It’s crazy to wrap his brain around just how pivotal that week was in his life—from Will’s disappearance, to meeting Eleven, to discovering the Upside Down… Everything can be traced back to that first week in November 1983. 

Everything can be traced back to El… and to Will.

The two most important people in Mike Wheeler’s life also just so happen to be the two most important people in this whole mess and mystery of the Upside Down. And God, maybe it’s selfish for Mike to say, but there’s part of him that’s honestly relieved they aren’t in Hawkins right now. 

Sure, El may be about to enter the fight in Hawkins through Max’s mind and that in itself is terrifying for the simple fact that Mike can’t be there to help her, but Mike takes comfort in knowing that Will isn’t in Hawkins. No, he’s here. Safe with Mike. Safe from all the horrors of the Upside Down. Safe from becoming a target again. 

And at the end of the day… El is a hero. She’s powerful and strong, in more ways than just her powers. She doesn’t need Mike to be there to help her, and… and that’s okay. So even though it’s still absolutely terrifying to send her into the fight, knowing the four of them will be useless as ever, Mike knows in his heart that El will be okay. El can handle herself, and El knows her own limits better than any of the rest of them do. El will be okay.

“There.” Mike flashes a weak smile at his (ex?) girlfriend, holding up his finished product. “One makeshift blindfold ready for the most epic mind fight to take place in the history of… ever.”

El giggles, and she looks at Mike’s sunglasses turned blindfold creation with amusement in her eyes. “Bitchin’,” she says softly, and Mike just laughs. 

Maybe it’s just El’s pre-fight nerves or the fact that all of this could go very poorly, but El also seems a lot more relaxed around him now. She’s still not as talkative as she was back nearly a week ago when Mike arrived in California, but she’s also not as distant as she was a couple hours ago. All in all, Mike counts that as a win.

“Hopefully, this will block out any peripheral light,” Mike says, offering another smile. “Though, it does suck that we had to cut up your shirt for this.”

“Using cardboard probably would not have worked as well as you thought,” El reminds, a teasing smile on her face. “So, cutting up my shirt was probably a better plan.”

Mike rolls his eyes light-heartedly, and he slips the glasses on. Sure enough, no light makes it through the layers of fabric. “Okay, fine,” he admits. “Using your shirt was a better idea. You don’t have to brag about it.”

Once again, El just laughs—a soft, sweet sound. “What if I want to brag about it?”

“Then, I’d say your brothers are rubbing off on you too much,” Mike replies, looking in her general direction. “I love Will to death, but do you have any idea how insufferable he used to be when he’d win? I mean, it’s probably my fault for rubbing off on him too much as a kid, but it’s bad, El.”

Instead of a response, Mike is met with silence. A few, uncomfortable moments pass, and slowly, he lowers his glasses to look at Eleven. “El?”

El glances up, her brown eyes meeting Mike’s own. There’s… an unusual expression on her face. She looks like she has something to say but just doesn’t know how to say it.

And Mike gets the feeling he knows exactly where this conversation is going.

Oh, we’re doing this, he thinks to himself, just as El reaches across the table and takes his hand.

“Mike,” she says softly. 

Mike gives her a hesitant, small smile, and he reaches up, taking off the sunglasses completely. “El…”

“I… I wanted… to talk to you,” El says. It’s clear that she’s treading carefully on the conversation and doing her best to choose the right words. “About… about that fight we had.”

“Yeah.” Mike nods, squeezing her hand lightly. “I… I wanted to talk to you too.”

El smiles—a little, bittersweet kind of smile. “I, um… I wanted to say I’m sorry, first of all,” she admits. “For lying to you… about everything in California. Friends… don’t lie. And I am sorry.”

Mike winces. It still hurts—being lied to by one of his closest friends—but if anyone should be apologizing, it’s him. The last thing he wants is for El to feel guilty over something that’s more Mike’s fault than hers.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Mike reassures quietly. “I… I’m sorry that I… that I didn’t make you feel comfortable enough to talk to me about it. And I’m sorry you had to go through all that, El.”

A sad look crosses El’s face, and she squeezes his hand back. “It’s okay,” she says, her voice soft. “It’s… it’s not just you.”

Mike’s brow furrows; he tilts his head curiously. Before he can even ask what she means, El gives him another small smile. “I… I have had a lot of time to think these past couple years,” she admits. “Before we moved to California and everything… happened… Max took me to the mall. Do you remember that day?”

How could I forget? Mike thinks in the back of his mind. That day had been a complete mess —the beginning of the end of all things normal in Mike’s life, honestly. After his fight with El and then his fight with Will, the party had been thrown right back into the chaos of fighting the Mind Flayer and all those Russians, and then…

And then in a blink of an eye, everything had changed. And Mike had lost both Will and El.

“I remember,” Mike replies softly. 

El smiles at him. “I have been thinking a lot about what Max told me that day,” she muses. “She said that… I should find what I liked, not just what you… or… or my dad liked. Something that felt like… me .”

“And… my whole life… I have had people tell me who to be,” El says carefully. “Papa. He wanted to use me… use my powers to do whatever he needed me to do. I did whatever he asked me to. I was whoever they needed me to be.”

She takes another deep breath and squeezes Mike’s hand tightly once more. “You were the first person to be my friend, Mike,” El whispers. There are tears welling in her eyes, and Mike hangs on to every word she’s saying, doing his best to truly hear her. He owes her that much. El deserves that much.  “The first person who ever showed me what friendship and love was. You… and Dustin… and Lucas… and then Max and Will… You all showed me that.”

“But I… sometimes, I still do not know who I am yet,” El admits. “Who I am without… anyone telling me who to be, or expecting me to be someone… something that I don’t want to be. I don’t want to be a monster. But I don’t… I don’t think I want to be a superhero either. I just want to be me.”

Silence hangs between the two of them, and for a moment, they just sit there, staring at one another. Everything that El has said makes sense to Mike—God, it makes so much sense. And maybe… maybe he can’t understand it to the degree that she does, having never experienced the awful things El has lived through, but… but Mike thinks he understands, a little bit better now.

It’s forced conformity, Wheeler. That’s what’s killing the kids. 

Acting like someone they’re not.

Trying to live up to the expectations that others have for them.

Conforming, just to be what other people need, and losing a piece of yourself in the process.

“I’m sorry,” Mike whispers. Hot, salty tears sting his eyes, and he squeezes El’s hand tightly. “Eleven, I… I never meant to make you feel that way, and I… I hope you know that I’m so, so sorry.”

El just smiles sadly. She squeezes Mike’s hand back. “I know you didn’t,” she says, her voice soft. “I know, Mike.”

But you still did it. The words seem to hang on the end of El’s sentence, and Mike takes a shuddered breath.

“I know… it’s not the same and that… I’ll never be able to understand it to the extent you do, but I think I get what you’re saying,” Mike adds softly. “My… my friend, Eddie. He calls it forced conformity, you know? And he always talks about how society and other people have these… expectations on how we should be and how we should act.” 

Mike swallows the lump in his throat, and instinctively, he glances towards the kitchen, where Jonathan and Will are still working with the sensory deprivation tank. “And I think… I’ve been slowly realizing just how much of myself I still haven’t figured out… or haven’t let myself figure out, because I’ve been so busy trying to be what people expect me to be. So… I think I know what you mean.”

El nods, a look of understanding on her face. “Maybe… maybe it’s time to let go of all those expectations and… and figure out how to just be us,” she says softly. 

The words aren’t explicit, but they don't need to be. Mike knows exactly what El means, and for the first time in almost two years, he feels like the two of them are finally on the same page.

Mike squeezes her hand back and offers her a small, sad smile in return. “I think it is,” he agrees, his voice soft. 

El smiles. It’s bittersweet—for both of them. And yet, at the same time, Mike knows in his heart that this is right. 

“You will always be one of my best friends,” El says gently. “I don’t ever want that to change.”

“Me either,” Mike says with a weak grin. “And besides… I think we’ve lived through too much together for our friendship to ever change.”

El just laughs softly, a fond smile on her face. “I think we have too,” she agrees, and she gives Mike’s hand one last squeeze.

Mike smiles back and opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can, the wooden doors separating the kitchen and dining room slam open violently. Both he and El flinch, pulling away from each other, and Mike turns around to see Jonathan and Will walk back into the dining room. 

For the briefest moment, a pained expression crosses Will’s face, but it quickly disappears under a more neutral mask. Jonathan, on the other hand, looks fucking pissed, and he barely looks Mike in the eye. Argyle ambles up behind the two of them, munching on a piece of pizza, and Mike blinks.

“Hi?” he says awkwardly, exchanging a look with El. 

Somehow, Jonathan’s scowl deepens. “El, it’s time,” he says, completely ignoring Mike and looking at his sister. 

El tenses, a resolved expression forming on her face. She nods slightly, glancing at Mike, and she stands to her feet, walking over to where her brothers are at. In just that brief moment, Mike watches her go from El—a normal, funny, and kind-hearted teenage girl—to Eleven—a hero who is the person capable of protecting their world from the Upside Down. It’s a heavy burden for her to carry, and unfortunately, it’s one that she has to carry alone this time.

For El’s sake, Mike hopes that this fight will be the last time she ever has to be put in this position again. And for the sake of the rest of them… he hopes this fight will be the time when Eleven puts all the evil of the Upside Down to rest—for good.

Mike can pinpoint the exact moment things begin to go wrong.

Once El finds Max and One, the lights in the pizza place flicker and hum, responding to the shift in energy and bending to El’s powers. Blood trickles out of El’s nose, and her body twitches. There’s a strained look on her face.

“She’s fighting him,” Mike says quietly, and he looks away for the briefest moment, meeting Will’s eyes. His brows are knit together in concern; he looks just as worried as Mike feels.

“Come on, El,” Will whispers, scooting closer to the tank and also to Mike. The two of them are so close now that their elbows brush up against one another, and Mike has to force himself to turn away.

Waiting is the worst part. 

It goes on for an awful, agonizingly slow amount of time. The lights continue to flicker. The radio’s static gets louder, then quiet again, then louder once more. Blood continues to trickle down El’s nostril, and her face becomes scrunched up in distress.

Oh no, Mike thinks for just the briefest moment.

And then, everything turns to shit.

El begins choking like she can’t breathe, and Mike’s eyes widen. “El!” he shouts. “El! El, can you hear me? El!”

“Oh God, El!” Will’s voice sounds as panicked as Mike feels. He reaches over Mike, grabbing El’s hand. “El, wake up! Wake up, El! El!”

“She can’t breathe,” Jonathan says, a panicked look forming on his face. “Shit. El! Wake up! Get out of there!”

Pure panic settles into Mike’s mind as El continues to choke, despite their best efforts to break her out of the trance. Shit, shit, shit, this is bad, this is so bad, and Mike’s heart is pounding inside his chest, and he can’t think, and shit, they can’t lose El, they can’t—

“Help me get her out of here,” Mike hears himself saying, but just like before in the van, he feels so wholly disconnected from his body. Luckily, the rest of him has gone into autopilot, and together with Jonathan and Argyle, Mike lifts El out of the tank. 

Will knocks the radio on to the ground, and the three of them set El on the table. Still, to Mike’s dismay, it does absolutely nothing to help her, and El continues retching, hardly able to breathe.

“El,” Mike says desperately, and he takes her hand, squeezing it tightly. “El, please. C-can you hear me? El! El!” 

Still no response. El just coughs weakly, her breaths coming out in stuttered gasps. They’re going to lose her. Holy shit, they’re going to lose El. Holy shit.

“Mike.” Suddenly, there’s a hand on Mike’s shoulder, grounding him back to reality. Mike turns around, eyes wide, and he finds himself staring right into Will’s reassuring gaze.

“Don’t stop,” Will says, and he squeezes Mike’s shoulder again. His voice is full of emotion and unbridled trust, and God, every single word and every single touch from Will makes Mike feel like he can do anything. “Don’t stop. You’re the heart, okay? Remember that. You’re the heart!”

There’s conviction in every single word that Will says, and he looks at Mike with that same, so wonderfully familiar gaze that Will has always had just for him. And now that… now that Mike knows, now that Mike is finally beginning to understand, he thinks he might be able to see himself through Will’s eyes.

In Will’s eyes, Mike is everything that he’s ever wanted to be. The leader. The one who can inspire. The hero. 

The heart.

That’s how Will sees Mike—through eyes that are full of nothing but love and admiration and years and years of friendship that can’t be broken by anything life has thrown their way. 

That’s how Will sees Mike.

But Mike can’t shake the thought that… Will isn’t entirely right.

Because maybe, sure, Mike is the party’s leader. Maybe, in his own way, he can inspire his friends to do things and to do what’s right. Maybe that makes him a hero in his own regard. 

But then again, all of the things that Mike has done—all those things that could possibly make him any sort of hero or leader in their party—he has done because of Will.

If Mike is the heart of the party, then so is Will. 

“No,” Mike whispers, and he watches as the most confused expression forms on Will’s face. “No. I… I’m not, Will. You are, okay? It’s you. It’s always been you, and-and everything that I’ve done, it’s only been because of you, so… so we have to do this together. Just-just like everything else on this trip, okay? We’re a team. I… I can’t do it alone. I need you.”

Will’s eyes are wide and still surprised, but he nods quickly, turning his attention back to El. They don’t have time to discuss this right now, but the look on Will’s face solidifies in Mike’s heart the fact that they will talk… after all this is said and done.

“El,” Will says, louder now than he was before. “El, can you hear us? El, it’s us… It… it’s Will and-and Mike… We’re right here, El.”

“We’re with you, El,” Will continues, and he leans over, putting his hand over both Mike and El’s. There are tears in his eyes. “None of us… none of us are going to leave you, because we love you, okay? We love you so much.”

(“You never say it, Mike!”

“I say it! I say it.”)

“He’s right,” Mike agrees, this time without hesitation. He squeezes El’s hand tightly and thinks back to their conversation—barely even an hour ago. “He’s right, El. We love you… We all love you so much, not… not because of what you can do… not because you’re a superhero… but because of who you are, El.”

(“I don’t want to be a monster. But I don’t… I don’t think I want to be a superhero either. I just want to be me.”)

“You’re one of the most incredible people I’ve ever known, El,” Will says, piggybacking off of Mike’s own words. His voice is full of emotion, and it’s clear he’s holding back tears. “You… you’re kind and funny and loving, and you always do everything you can to try and understand others. That’s just who you are! You’re so full of compassion for people, and you always do everything you can to help them… El, you… you’re the most selfless person I know, even in spite of everything you’ve been through.”

Mike takes a shuddered breath, blinking back the tears in his eyes. For once, the words come so easily, spilling out of him faster than he can even keep up with, and he knows in his heart that he means every single word. “Ever since I met you in the woods that night, you have always put others first, El,” he says, his voice breaking. “You… you found a bunch of scared kids in the woods, and you didn’t even hesitate. You just helped us; you helped Will. And you saved us, and you kept saving us… not because… not because you had to because you’re a superhero or any bullshit like that, but because you’re you, El. You have loved all of us even before you even knew what it really meant, and none of us deserve that, and-and—”

“—and right now, our friends need you,” Will finishes the rest of the sentence. Somehow, he knows exactly what Mike is trying to say and exactly what El needs to hear. His voice is full of determination, and he squeezes Mike and El’s hands tightly. “El, our friends need you. Max needs you. So, you just have to fight, okay? You need to fight!”

El’s choking begins to stop, and Mike’s breath catches in the back of his throat. He nods and squeezes her hand tighter. “That’s it, El!” he encourages. “That’s it; you have to fight! Fight, El! You have to fight!”

Above them, the lights flicker more and more. El’s breathing begins to even out as both Mike and Will continue to spur her on. 

She’s doing it, Mike thinks to himself. He feels so happy, so relieved that he could cry. She’s going to beat him.

Time feels like it slows down as Mike and Will both hold on to El, and all four of them wait in anticipation, holding their breaths to see what will come next.

And just like how he could pinpoint the moment when everything began to go wrong, Mike can pinpoint the exact point things began to go right.

The lights in the pizza place glow brighter, brighter, brighter until they’re nearly blinding, and Mike is reminded of the night El closed the very first gate in Hawkins. He remembers every single light in the near vicinity glowing brighter than he’d ever seen it before, responding to the sheer power that El had demonstrated.

Slowly, the lights begin to dim, and they stop flickering. El’s chest rises and falls, in and out. In and out. In and out.

“El?” Mike whispers hesitantly. 

There’s no response from El, and Mike’s brow furrows. “El,” he says again, shaking her gently. “El?”

“Why isn’t she waking up?” Will sounds as stressed as Mike feels. “She… she’s not fighting him still, is she? El!”

“I-I don’t know,” Mike stammers. He looks up, meeting Will’s eyes, and the two of them share a worried look. “I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Will swallows the lump in his throat, and he looks down, staring at his sister in concern. Though she’s breathing just fine now, El is still stuck in her trance, completely unresponsive to any of them. “Maybe… maybe she’s with Max,” Will whispers. “Making sure she’s… okay.”

You mean, making sure she’s not dead, Mike thinks to himself, and he nods slightly, turning his attention back to El. 

“Come on, El,” he whispers. “Come on…”

Once again, the waiting is the hardest part. Seconds feel like minutes, which feel like hours, and Mike actually thinks he might be going sick with worry.

But then finally, El’s eyes open, and she sits up, gasping weakly and looking around the room. There’s a terrified look on her face, but when her gaze lands on Mike and Will, her expression softens considerably.

None of them say a single word. None of them have to. But all at once, the three of them move towards each other, wrapping one another in an embrace. As soon as she is enveloped in the hug, El begins to break down in quiet sobs. Will follows soon after, and even Mike can’t hold back his tears.

“It’s okay,” Mike whispers, and he hugs El tighter. “You’re okay. It’s going to be okay. We’re here. Whatever happens… I promise, we’ll fix it together.”

This time, it’s a promise Mike thinks they can all believe.

Chapter Text

Chapter Ten

Home Sweet Hawkins

Mike has never been more happy to see that stupid little “Welcome to Hawkins” sign.

It’s only been about a week since he first stepped onto that airplane and made his way to California, but God, it feels like longer. So much has happened over the span of only a few days. So much has changed over the span of only a few days. And God, there’s still so much uncertainty, because even though the fight has been won, Mike gets the feeling that things are far from over.

They first get wind of things going terribly wrong in Hawkins when they stop at a gas station, just across the Illinois/Indiana border. There’s a little television propped up on the counter behind the gas station clerk, and it plays one of the local news stations.

And then, right as Jonathan opens the door and begins to lead them outside, the news begins to talk about a massive earthquake affecting a small town just outside of Indianapolis.

Hawkins.

They stay behind for a bit longer to hear the rest of the news report; apparently, this year’s cover up story is that a 7.4 magnitude earthquake had struck Hawkins, killing at least a couple dozen people and leaving the ground beneath the town split into four giant pieces. The news reporter makes an offhand joke about how the cracks in the ground must be some portal that leads to hell—considering all of Hawkins’ rotten luck over the last few years.

Mike doesn’t know whether he wants to laugh or cry. And the sad part about all this is the fact that the news reporter isn’t that far off.

Because despite not fully knowing what has happened in Hawkins, all of them know that this is not the effects of an earthquake. No. This has the Upside Down written all over it.

El may have won this battle, but the war has only just begun.

The remainder of the drive to Hawkins is somber, and Mike finds himself staring out the window, watching cars drive past them on the opposite side of the highway. He’s never seen the Indiana highways this damn busy (after all, it’s not like people are really trying to go to Illinois of all places), but it seems like everyone is going the opposite direction that they are.

Mike gets the feeling that they are—quite literally—driving into the eye of the storm. And judging by the palpable tension in the van, he gets the feeling that everyone else knows this too.

It makes the rest of the car ride absolutely miserable; though honestly, it’s been this way since Nevada. With the exception of the tearful reunion with El in the pizza place directly after her fight, things have just been uncomfortable with both El and Will.

El has barely spoken a word since coming out of her fight with One. Her face is always distant and ever haunted. Whatever happened in there—whatever happened to Max —looms over El’s head like a dark storm cloud. She won’t speak about what happened in her fight, and the only pieces of information that she has given any of them are that One has been defeated and that Max is alive. 

Besides that, Mike knows nothing. 

It’s frustrating and terrifying, and God , it takes everything in his power not to demand El share more information with them. They’re all a team, right? All of them—their silly little California, pizza van team. If they’re walking back into a complete mess, then surely, they deserve to know.

Mike almost asks El—on more than one occasion. He almost pushes her to talk, to open up, to let them help.

Will stops him every time.

He doesn’t actually say anything to Mike, but he doesn’t have to. Will still knows Mike, maybe even better than he knows himself, and likewise, Mike has always known Will. All it takes is a firm yet somehow still gentle look from his best friend to put Mike back into his place.

Just give her time. She’ll come around.

And so, Mike doesn’t say anything. Instead, he sits there in the horrible, uncomfortable silence brought on by not only El but also Will.

In true Will form, he takes a step back from Mike. The chasm grows between the two of them again as Will gives Mike space—space that he doesn’t even realize Mike despises. Because in Will’s mind, Mike is still stupidly in love with El and trying desperately to salvage his relationship with her. In Will’s mind, he has to let go of Mike, so that Mike and El can be happy.

And God, Mike doesn’t know whether he wants to cry or apologize or scream or just fucking get it over with and kiss Will Byers like he’s been wanting to do for God knows how long—

But now isn’t the right time. They’ve hardly had a moment together alone since they found El in Nevada, and having a heart-to-heart with his best friend/crush/person Mike has loved for an absurd amount of time without even realizing it in front of his now ex-girlfriend is not something Mike wants to do.

Still, he can’t stop himself from looking over at Will on an almost constant basis now. It’s like now that Mike has finally seen Will in this new, incredible, and beautiful light, he never wants to look away. 

Will is beautiful. In every single sense of the word. He’s the most incredible person that Mike has ever known, and God, Mike doesn’t know anything about himself anymore—like his sexuality or what he likes or who he wants to be—but he knows one thing for certain:

He’s fallen hard for Will Byers, and he keeps falling more and more each day as his own feelings become more apparent to him.

The time will come for him to tell Will all of these things… eventually. Once they make it home and figure out whatever mess has been left by the Upside Down, Mike will find the courage to tell Will every single thing that he needs to say. 

Things like: 

This whole time, I’ve been so scared of losing you. 

And like:

I know why things haven't been the same—why I haven’t been the same. It’s because you weren’t around.

And:

I’ve always needed you. Ever since that first day we met. And I’ll always need you too.

And maybe even:

I love you. 

Eventually, Mike will say all of those things. 

Just… not right now.

Because right now, as they cross through the complete rubble that is Hawkins, all Mike can feel is dread in his heart. He stares out the window, watching as soldiers direct them down certain streets and taking in every single ruined piece of his hometown. 

Hawkins looks like it has been torn apart. Smoke still rises from buildings, and there are firefighters and soldiers and police officers alike trying to help people and put out fires. Entire buildings have crumbled into complete ruin, leaving nothing but rubble and debris behind.

Mike thinks he might be sick.

“Jonathan,” he croaks. Jonathan looks back at him through the rear view mirror, worry and shock written all over his face. “Are we… can we…”

The look on Jonathan’s face softens. “We’re going to your house first,” he promises. “I… I’m sure they’re okay. They have to be.”

There’s a slight tremor in his voice, and Mike swallows the lump in his throat. As much as he’s terrified for his own family, he knows Jonathan must be just as terrified for Nancy. After all, Mike knows exactly what he's going through. All those times when Will had been stuck right in the center of danger and when Mike had absolutely no way of telling if he was okay? Yeah, those moments are some of the worst memories of his entire life.

Please be okay, Mike thinks to himself, and he continues to stare out the window as Jonathan drives them down the familiar roads leading to his house. Please be okay.

The ride home takes an eternity, but finally, Jonathan pulls onto Mike’s street. Thankfully, everything looks normal, and Mike sits up, looking over Will’s shoulder and straining to see his own house. 

And there—there—standing in the driveway are… a lot of people. Is that… Steve? And Robin? And oh God, there’s Dustin, and-and Nancy and his mom—

Mike can’t help the sob that escapes his lips. They’re okay. They’re all okay.

Jonathan parks the van right in front of the Wheeler driveway, and Mike wastes no time whatsoever. He pushes past both El and Will and practically jumps himself out of the van, smiling widely.

His mom and Nancy are the first to see him—see all of them. 

For a moment, it feels like time is frozen, and Mike just stands there, smiling at his family and his friends. Relief floods his heart, breaking through every last bit of fear and anxiety. They’re okay . They’re all okay.

Someone hits the PLAY button, and time is unfrozen.

“Mom!” Mike runs towards his mother and wraps his arms around her, squeezing as tightly as he can. “Mom.”

“Oh, Michael; oh thank God, you’re okay,” she sobs. The two of them just stand there, hugging for what simultaneously feels like an eternity but also not long enough; then, his mom pulls away and gives him the mom look. “You are never going on vacation again, you hear me? And you can forget about college! You are staying right here.”

Mike can’t help but laugh, and he pulls his mom back into a hug. “I’m okay with that,” he mumbles. “I… I’ve missed home.”

His mom just hugs him tighter in response, and the two of them stay like that for another few moments, before Mike lifts his head. Standing directly behind them is Nancy, and she offers him a watery smile.

“Hey,” Mike whispers, pulling away from their mom and opening his arms up for a hug.

“You idiot,” Nancy chides, but she runs up to him regardless and pulls him into a bone-crushing hug. “You absolute idiot.”

Mike just laughs, and he squeezes his older sister tightly, blinking back the tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry we didn’t call,” he whispers. “The government… and… and El—”

Nancy just shushes him, and she hugs Mike tighter, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I figured something was wrong,” she whispers back. “And I… I’m glad you weren’t here. God, I’m so glad…”

Mike pulls back, just enough so he can look at his sister. Just like El, there’s a haunted look in Nancy’s eyes—one that she’s so desperately trying to hide. “Nance…”

“We can talk more later,” Nancy promises, finally letting go of him. “All of us… we’ve got a lot to talk about. But I’m just glad you’re home.”

“Me too,” Mike says with a weak smile. He glances over at where Dustin, Will, and El all stand together, engrossed in a conversation, and smiles sheepishly again at Nancy. “I’m gonna…”

“Go.” Nancy rolls her eyes fondly, and Mike just grins, jogging over to his best friends.

Dustin is the first to see him, and he pauses mid-sentence just to grin right back at Mike. “Hey,” Mike says with a casual laugh. “Sorry we didn’t call.”

Dustin just laughs, and he pulls Mike into a hug, squeezing him tightly. “I’ll forgive you,” he promises. “You know… since you managed to bring these two back to Hawkins with you.”

Mike laughs softly, pulling away from their embrace and going to stand close to Will. There’s a fond, peaceful smile on Will’s face, and Mike’s stomach flutters in response. “Yeah, I guess I just got tired of being far away from them,” Mike jokes with a weak smile. “So, I dragged them kicking and screaming right back into the fun.”

“He’s not kidding,” Will adds teasingly, and El just nods in agreement. “We didn’t miss you guys at all.”

“That’s cold, Byers,” Dustin says, rolling his eyes fondly. “Really cold.”

As the three of them continue to tease each other, Mike looks around his front yard, frowning slightly. “Hey, Dustin,” he says slowly. “Where… where’s Lucas?”

Almost immediately, the mood shifts. Dustin stops mid-sentence, and his face falls. “He… he’s at the hospital.”

Mike blinks, and he turns to Will and El, who both wear similarly shocked expressions on their faces. “Was he hurt?” Will asks worriedly.

Dustin winces, and he shakes his head slightly. “No, no, he’s fine,” he reassures. “But… um…” 

He takes a shuddered breath here and looks away. For a few moments, all of them stand there in silence as Dustin tries to gather his words. “Max,” he says finally. There’s an exhausted, pained look in his eyes. “She… she was targeted… by this… this creature from the Upside Down—”

“One,” El interrupts. Her voice is trembling. “We know.”

Dustin looks surprised at this, but he nods. “One,” he agrees. “And he… he tried to kill her. Somehow… she survived, but… but she’s been in the hospital… in a coma ever since.”

The words feel like a punch in the gut. Max… obviously, she’s never been that close to Mike, but she… she’s still one of his closest friends. She’s still a member of the party—still someone that Mike would do anything for. And sure, he had known… that… that One was targeting her… But this?

God.

“Oh God,” Will whispers. “Is she… is she… going to be okay?”

“I… I don’t honestly know,” Dustin admits, his voice soft. “Lucas would know better… You guys could go see them—”

“Excuse me,” El mumbles suddenly, and Mike looks up, just as she walks away, her arms wrapped around herself. He catches the briefest glimpse of tears in her eyes, and something inside his chest twists painfully.

I should go check on her, Mike thinks to himself, and he looks at Will for reassurance.

There’s a heartbroken look on Will’s face, and he happens to look over at Mike at the exact moment. Somehow, he knows exactly what Mike is trying to say, and he shakes his head. “Let’s give her some time,” he suggests softly. “Then… we… er, you could go talk to her.”

Mike wants to tell him that—actually—it might be better if both of them went to talk to her, or if Will himself went to go check on El. After all, between the two of them, Will has always been better at comforting people and putting them at ease. 

Instead of that though, Mike just nods, turning back to Dustin. “We’ll go see them,” he says quietly. “I, uh… I want to check on them—on Lucas. Make sure he’s okay and all.”

Mike pauses here, then he reaches out, placing a hand on Dustin’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asks softly.

Almost immediately, Dustin tenses. His face twists into a pained expression, and he looks away from Mike, blinking quickly. It’s not the response Mike would have ever expected from his best friend, but it speaks volumes for where Dustin is at right now.

“Hey,” Mike whispers, and he takes a hesitant step towards his best friend. “Hey, it’s okay… You don’t have to talk about it.”

Dustin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. In and out. In and out.

When he finally opens his eyes, they’re glassy. “Do you think we could… talk alone?” Dustin asks quietly, nodding towards an empty part of Mike’s yard closer to his house.

Mike’s brow furrows, and he glances back at Will, who looks just as confused. It’s okay, Will’s expression says, and he nods slightly. I’ll go check on the others.

Mike just nods: Okay. Then, he turns back to Dustin and offers a weak smile. “Yeah,” he says, voice soft. “Definitely.”

Dustin forces a smile, and together, the two of them walk away from Will and the others over to a quieter part of the yard. It takes them a little bit longer to get there—thanks to Dustin’s limp. Mike wonders if that has anything to do with what Dustin needs to tell him.

“Are you… okay?” Mike asks softly, once the two of them are far enough away. “What’s going on?”

Once again, Dustin just takes a deep breath. In and out. In and out. In and out. “Mike,” he whispers, his voice shaking. “Something… something happened. Over break… with Eddie.”

Mike feels his heart drop all the way to the bottom of his stomach, and he tenses, trying to force himself to breathe. “W-what?”

There are tears in Dustin’s eyes now, and he shakes his head. “The… the first person One… killed was Chrissy,” he explains very quietly. “Chrissy Cunningham, the-the cheerleader. And… I don’t know… I don’t know what El has told you about… about One, but he… he was targeting people who were hurting… who weren’t okay.”

Every single word feels like a rusty knife in the heart. Hot, salty tears sting Mike’s eyes, and he shakes his head. “No, no,” he argues, his voice cracking. “Eddie, he’s not… he wasn’t—”

“Chrissy was at Eddie’s trailer when she died,” Dustin whispers. “And he… he ran. I mean… who wouldn’t, right? B-but… but then… the… the cops, they thought… they thought it was Eddie… who was… k-killing all these people.”

“That’s bullshit,” Mike snaps. His chest is tight, and his breaths come out in short, panicked gasps. It feels far too much like the panic attack he’d had in Argyle’s van, and God, Mike can’t breathe. “T-that’s bullshit! Eddie, he-he would never… he wouldn’t!”

Dustin nods. “I know, Mike,” he says, voice breaking again. “I know. We all… we tried. W-we thought… we thought if we could just kill One… and-and stop the killings… we could clear Eddie’s name… So… so he was there… He… he helped us… stop One.”

The but hangs on the end of Dustin’s sentence, and Mike shakes his head. “No.” The word slips out of his mouth, again and again, as the denial and fear and grief begin to set in. “No. N-no, no. He… he-he… no, no—”

Dustin’s face is absolutely heartbroken, and he just reaches into his pocket for something. He holds out his hand for Mike, and there, sitting in the palm of his hand, is one of Eddie’s rings.

Oh God, Mike thinks to himself. Holy shit, holy shit, oh God—

“He saved me,” Dustin whispers, choking back a sob. “H-he helped save Hawkins. He… he was a hero. A-and… he wanted me to give one of these to you… and one for me, and one for Lucas.” 

Mike can hardly see past the tears in his eyes, can hardly breathe , and can hardly even form a coherent thought, but somehow, his hand shakily moves forward, taking the ring from his best friend and clenching his hand around it.

“He told me… he told me to tell you that it’s okay,” Dustin says, his voice impossibly quiet. Mike looks over at him, blinking to try and see clearer. “I-it’s okay to change… to-to be you … no matter what society thinks.”

That does it for Mike.

All at once, it’s as if the dam of his emotions breaks open, and a broken sob escapes his mouth. The tears have already started to fall, but now, every single emotion rushes out of him like a flood—all the terror from this past week, the confusion and frustration of trying to figure himself out, the anger of not know what to do or how to fix anything, and now… now the grief—the pure, unadulterated grief —of losing the first person who had shown him that Mike could actually be himself.

Mike doesn’t know how, but somehow, he ends up on the ground, his arms wrapped around himself and crying roughly. He’s never been much of a crier before. Sure, he sheds some tears here or there, but never anything like this. The only times he remembers crying this hard was after seeing the fake Will’s body in the quarry all those years ago and after Will and El had packed up their bags and left Mike behind.

Eventually, someone—Dustin, Mike thinks—wraps their arms around him, and Mike buries his head in their shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” Dustin whispers. He’s crying too now, and somewhere in the back of Mike’s mind, he thinks, It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. “I’m so sorry.”

And for the longest time, the two of them stay there, knelt on the grass of Mike’s front yard, and weeping over a friend gone too soon.

Grief is a strange thing, and Mike… doesn’t know what to do with it.

Physically, he still feels completely exhausted and spent, even after eating a quick lunch and taking a shower. Mentally, his mind is scattered a dozen different places with a dozen different people—Max, Lucas, Dustin, Nancy, El, and most importantly, Will. Emotionally, Mike feels as though his heart is one big open wound—raw and exposed and aching .

Nothing about this is okay. Nothing.

But Mike has never really been a person to dwell on these types of things—no one in his family is—and even if he was, he doesn’t have time to dwell on his own grief. Not when Hawkins is still a burning pile of rubble and when people need help. Not when Max is in the hospital in a fucking coma and Lucas is there, alone without any friends to be there for him. Not when El and Will and every other person that Mike loves and cares about need him in some way. 

Eventually, he’ll find a way to deal with all this… this grief and this anxiety and this trauma. Maybe eventually all of them will. Once the dust settles and they all have a second to breathe, maybe Mike will figure out a healthy way to cope. 

Until then, he’ll just do the best that he can to survive… and to make Eddie proud. To actually listen to the advice Eddie had been trying to give Mike for the past two years and to finally just be himself, regardless of what everyone else’s thoughts. 

Fuck whatever everyone else has to say. Mike is tired of living his entire life pretending to be someone he’s not and trying to follow along with every expectation of him. Life is too fucking short to put up with that kind of bullshit. God knows what might happen next in Hawkins or with the Upside Down, and fuck it, Mike doesn’t want to waste his life wearing the clothes his parents want him to wear, or liking the things that “normal” teenage guys should like, or pretending not to love someone simply because that’s how things are “supposed” to be. 

Mike just wants to be himself and do what feels right to him.

So, he starts with small things. He throws out the disgusting (no, seriously, the clothes he’s worn all week are absolutely disgusting and filthy and covered in at least a few bloodstains, and even his mother agrees there’s no salvaging them) clothes from this past week, and after he showers, Mike changes into the clothes that he actually wants to wear.

There’s no sense in hiding his new sense of style from people like El or Will. Honestly, the only reason Mike had even brought different clothes to California with him had been because of his fear of El’s reaction, but now… now, it doesn’t matter one way or another.

He feels much more like himself in his black ripped jeans and one of Eddie’s old band t-shirts and the denim jacket Nancy had bought him last Christmas. With a small smile, Mike slips on the jacket and looks at himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hair. Yeah. He looks a lot more like himself now.

The only thing missing is…

Mike glances over at Eddie’s ring sitting on his desk, and hesitantly, he picks it up, slipping it on his middle finger. It’s a little bit loose, but it fits well enough and Mike glances back at the mirror on the back of his door. 

Mini Munson, he thinks with a wry smile. 

Someone knocks on the door, and Mike’s brow furrows. “Come in!”

The door opens slightly, and none other than Will Byers peeks his head in. “Hey,” he says softly, offering Mike a small smile. 

The butterflies in Mike’s stomach make their grand reappearance, and he smiles back shyly, waving at Will. “Hey.”

Will opens the door a little bit more, stepping inside Mike’s bedroom, and shit, holy shit, holy shit, Mike’s brain short-circuits. 

Will must have just gotten out of the shower a few minutes ago, because his hair is in that in-between, damp stage where it’s still a bit wavy and tousled messily across his face. And not only that, but like Mike, Will has changed clothes… except Will has changed into Mike’s clothes.

“I, uh… hope it’s okay that I borrowed these,” Will says sheepishly, gesturing to the old long-sleeved gray, blue, and yellow striped shirt from the back of Mike’s closet. He’s also definitely wearing a pair of Mike’s jeans, which are definitely tighter on Will than on Mike, and… um, yeah. “Your mom said I could, since… I didn’t have anything.”

“Yeah, yeah, no, you’re fine,” Mike says, wincing at how high his voice sounds. His cheeks are burning, so he looks away quickly, praying Will didn’t see him blush. “I… honestly haven’t worn those clothes in a long time anyways.”

Will just laughs softly, and he walks over to sit on Mike’s bed. His eyes crinkle as he smiles and looks Mike up and down.  “I like the new look,” he remarks. “You look cool.”

Once again, warmth spreads across Mike’s cheeks, and he can’t help the stupid little smile that forms on his face. Shit, has he always had it this bad? “Thanks,” Mike says with a weak laugh, and he walks over, sitting next to Will on the bed. “You, uh… you do too. I mean… those clothes… they, um… fit you better than they do me.”

A shy smile forms on Will’s face, and God, he looks beautiful. The sunlight from Mike’s window catches his face at the perfect angle, casting a soft, almost angelic looking glow onto Will. He’s absolutely breathtaking.

"Are… are you doing alright?” Will asks softly, his eyebrows knit together in concern. “Nancy… told me about what happened to Eddie, and I… I’m so sorry, Mike.”

Mike swallows the lump in his throat; he looks down at his hands. “I… I’m still processing it, I think,” he admits, because if there’s anyone he can be honest with, it’s Will. “I… just can’t believe he’s… he’s gone. And that I didn’t… get to say goodbye.”

His voice cracks on the last word, and against Mike’s best attempts to hold back his emotions, tears sting his eyes once more. 

Breathe, he tells himself. In and out. In and out.

Then suddenly, Will’s arm is around his shoulder, and Mike looks up, meeting his best friend’s eyes. Will doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. The look on his face says it all.

I’m here for you. And I always will be.

And Mike doesn’t hesitate.

He allows himself to be pulled into Will’s embrace, and he sinks deeper into the hug, burying his head in Will’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around his best friend. Will’s arms go around him protectively, and he rubs his hand up and down Mike’s back, providing a silent but still reassuring sense of calm and comfort.

The embrace feels right. It feels safe. And it feels like home.

Oh, Mike thinks to himself, and as the realization sets in, he nestles further into Will’s arms. Oh.

For the first time in nearly two years, Mike is back in Hawkins, and he feels like he’s home.

He is home again… because Will is here.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” Mike mumbles into Will’s shoulder. “I’m really glad we’re finally home.”

Will’s breath catches, and he just leans in closer to their hug, holding Mike close. “Yeah,” he whispers back, voice full of emotion. “I am too.”

(Somehow, some way… Mike thinks Will might know exactly what he’s trying to say.)

In true Wheeler fashion, Nancy does not waste a second sitting around and doing nothing. Instead, she throws herself—and all the rest of them—full force into doing something useful and getting their minds off of the absolute shitshow that has become their lives.

Mike’s grateful for it, honestly. Growing up, his mom has always done the same thing, and sure, maybe it’s not the healthiest habit, but he needs it. Clearly, Nancy does as well. 

And so, as soon as Jonathan and Argyle return from Steve’s house—freshly showered and looking ridiculous in some of Steve’s old clothes—Nancy coaxes all of them into that Godforsaken pizza van and makes Jonathan drive them to the hospital. 

Seeing Max is… hard.

Like really, really hard.

Of all the party members, Max is probably the person Mike is least close with, thanks to the rocky start to their friendship (something that had been his fault) and the additional strain from her siding with El during that fight (also his fault). But deep down, Max has always been someone that Mike had (rather begrudgingly) admired for her tenacity and for her strength.

Simply put, Max has always been a badass—never afraid to get into verbal or fights with someone else, especially if her friends were in danger. 

But seeing her like this—and God, seeing Lucas like this—it’s… jarring and downright terrifying. It leaves Mike with a gnawing pit of complete anxiety in his stomach, and he has to physically fight the urge to grab onto Will and drag him to the nearest car so that they can get the hell out of here before anything can happen to him.

Because, while it’s not quite the same situation, Mike knows what it’s like to be in Lucas’ shoes. He knows what it’s like to see the Upside Down rip something away from the person he loves most, and even if he didn’t realize his feelings for Will at the time, nearly losing Will to the Upside Down not once but twice had broken something in Mike.

He can only imagine Lucas must feel the same way about Max, and so, before all of them leave the hospital room, Mike hugs his best friend one more time, hoping with everything in him that Lucas can understand all that Mike’s trying to say. 

I’m sorry for how things have been these past couple years.

No matter what, I’m here for you. We all are.

I promise, it’ll be okay. We’ll find a way to make sure it’s okay—all of us. Together.

Lucas just smiles once the two of them pull away, and there’s a watery look in his eyes. He nods ever so slightly—the confirmation that Mike needs to know that Lucas understands. 

After all of them leave the hospital, Nancy drags them all to Hopper’s old cabin, which is—holy shit—a complete fucking wreck. It literally hasn’t been touched since the summer that all of them were last together, and thanks to the giant gaping hole in the ceiling, lots of lovely creatures have made their way into the cabin and gotten into all the old food. And all of the food that hasn’t been touched by the wild animals is definitely moldy and disgusting by now, just like a lot of the furniture in the living room.

“Dear God,” Mike mutters, staring at the cabin in disgust. 

Similarly, the Byers-Hopper siblings look just as grossed out as Mike. “Nance, are you sure this is the best idea?” Jonathan asks hesitantly.

Nancy, being Nancy, just rolls her eyes, and she walks into the kitchen, completely unfazed by the dust and debris and feces on the ground. “Oh come on, guys,” she says, opening up the kitchen sink. Somehow, she manages to find some two-year old cleaning supplies, and she sets them down on the table. “I’ve seen Mike’s bedroom look and smell worse than this!”

“Hey,” Mike begins to protest, while Will just bursts into laughter. Mike turns to his best friend, an offended look on his face. “Will, stop encouraging her!”

Will’s eyes crinkle as he continues to laugh, and fuck, Mike has it so damn bad. It’s one of the first times in the past few days that he’s seen Will truly laugh and smile like this, and God, Mike would do anything to keep him this happy.  “You’re only upset that it’s true,” he says with a smirk, grabbing a nearby broom. “I distinctly remember finding a half-moldy slice of pizza in your closet when we were like ten.”

Mike just rolls his eyes, bumping Will’s shoulder lightly, and he walks over to his sister, grabbing the roll of garbage bags. “At least the ceiling in my room doesn’t have a giant gaping hole created by an interdimensional monster,” he says dryly, pointing up to the ceiling. “How exactly are we going to fix that again?”

Nancy purses her lips, walking over to stand directly under the hole. She puts her hands on her hips and looks up, brow furrowed in concentration. “It can’t be that hard to fix,” she finally says. “Between the six of us, I’m sure we can figure it out.”

“Oh totally, dude,” Argyle agrees, and he ambles up to Nancy, holding his arms up and trying to… measure? the gaping hole in the ceiling. “Jonathan and I took a woodworking class a couple years back. We’ve got this. We’ll get Supergirl’s fortress of solitude fixed up in no time!”

Mike glances over at El, who still hasn’t said anything since visiting Max in the hospital. At Argyle’s comments, a small smile forms on her face, and she leans her head on Will’s arm. Clearly, being back here is difficult for her, so Mike makes a mental note to check up on her later if she seems receptive to it.

“It’ll take us at least a couple days to get it livable again,” Nancy muses. “Our mom’s okay with El staying with us for a little bit, but with the government looking for you, staying here is your safest bet. So… everyone grab a broom or something to clean with, and let’s get going.”

Without another word, Nancy walks straight out of the cabin, pulling Jonathan with her and going back to Argyle’s van, where all the tools and other supplies they brought with them are still stored. 

Mike looks around, unsure of where to start, and he catches Will’s eye, offering him a small smile. Here goes nothing, right?

Will just gives him a small, amused smile back. Here goes nothing.

Surprisingly, the rest of the afternoon goes by fairly quickly, and with all of them working together, they make… some progress on fixing Hopper’s cabin. Like Nancy said, it’s going to take at least a few days of cleaning this place to make it livable again… but then again, Steve, Robin, and Dustin had all offered to come over tomorrow to help as well. Maybe with more of them working on the house, it could get fixed up sooner rather than later.

Mike sweeps more of the dust and garbage into the dust pan, coughing slightly as some of it comes up and gets into his lungs. Behind him, Will does the same, and he glances over, exchanging another smile with his best friend. 

It’s been like this… practically all afternoon. Honestly, Mike can’t help it. He constantly finds himself glancing over at Will, always checking to see if he’s okay or even just to see what he’s doing. On more than one occasion, the two of them have bumped into one another in the little cabin, and each time sends a jolt of electricity through Mike’s whole body.

For just a few moments, it feels like the only two people in the room are Mike and Will, and Mike actually flinches when El walks right between them, heading to her old room. The door closes behind her—though, it’s left open three inches—and Mike winces.

Likewise, Will just seems worried, and he meets Mike’s eyes. Neither of them say anything to each other, but when Mike begins to walk to Hopper’s old orange couch, Will immediately follows.

“Has she… said anything to you at all?” Will asks quietly. 

Mike shakes his head as the two of them take a seat next to each other on the couch. “No,” he says softly. “You?”

For a moment, Will looks confused by Mike’s question, but then, he shakes his head as well. “No… not really. She… mentioned a couple things about Brenner, but that… that’s all.”

At the mention of that asshole, Mike can’t help but scowl. “What did she say?”

“Just… that Brenner told her she wasn’t ready,” Will says with a frown. “I… I get the feeling she’s starting to think that he was right.” 

“That’s such bullshit!” Mike runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “If El hadn’t come back, Max… Max would be dead. And God knows who else would be too.”

Will nods. “I know,” he agrees softly. “But El… she’s never lost before. Not… not like this.”

Mike’s brow furrows. “What happened wasn’t her fault,” he says. “And… I mean, yeah, things… things are bad right now, but One is gone. He’s gone. And… and El won. That… has to count for something, right?”

Will goes completely quiet. An eerie silence settles over the two of them, and Mike’s brow furrows even more as he turns to look as his best friend. There’s an unreadable expression on Will’s face, and he fidgets with his hands nervously, his chest moving up and down, up and down in shorter breaths.

Immediately, Mike knows that something is wrong.

“Will?” he asks softly.

Somehow, Will tenses even more. He stares down at his hands, and as Mike scoots closer to him, he finally whispers, “He… he’s not.”

The words are like a punch in the gut—knocking all of the air out of Mike’s lungs.

“Now… now that I’m here… in Hawkins, I can feel him,” Will whispers, looking around the cabin. There’s a glassy, terrified look in his eyes, and his voice is trembling. “And… he… he’s hurt, he’s hurting, but… he’s still alive.”

The two of them meet eyes. A myriad of emotions are present on Will’s face—but none more prevalent than terror and… guilt.

“It’s strange… knowing now who it was this whole time,” Will says, and his voice breaks. “But I… I can still remember what he thinks and-and how he thinks… And he’s not going to stop, Mike. Not until… until he’s taken everything… and everyone. We have to kill him. We have to.”

Will looks like he’s one more word from completely breaking, and Mike scoots closer to him, reaching for his hand. “Hey,” he whispers. “Will… Will, look at me.”

A moment passes before Will looks up. There’s a glassy look in his eyes, and Mike just squeezes his hand tightly. “We will,” he promises. “We will kill him, and we will end this… and… and we’ll make him pay for everything he’s done. I promise you we’ll figure out how to do this… how to stop him. Together.”

Despite the circumstances, Mike finds himself all too aware of just how close Will—right here, beside Mike, bathed in the sunlight streaming through the window, and present in this moment with him. It’s insane—God, it’s so fucking insane—because the world is literally beginning to end, but all Mike can think about is Will.

“Will,” he whispers, before he can even stop himself. “I—”

The sound of a vehicle approaching cuts Mike off, and Will’s brow furrows. Without any hesitation, both of them stand up and hurry over to the window. Outside, an unfamiliar black car approaches the cabin, and Mike curses.

“Shit,” he whispers. “Government?”

“Fuck,” Will says, a panicked look on his face. “How the hell did they find us—”

The car door opens.

But it’s not a government agent that steps out.

“Mom!” Will lets go of Mike’s hand faster than he can even process, and he runs out of the cabin. With a small laugh, Mike follows after him, opening up the front door and—

Holy shit.

Holy.

Holy shit.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Mike blurts out, and Nancy, who happens to be only a foot or so away, smacks his arm. 

“What the hell, Mike?” she hisses, giving him a look.

Hopper, who has just stepped out of the car, raises a brow, but there’s a fond smile on his face. Behind him, the Byers have all collided into one big group hug, and all three of them sob into one another’s embrace. “Where’s El?” Hop asks.

Mike swallows the lump in his throat, and he just continues to stare at the older man in surprise. “She… she, uh… she’s in her room,” he finally manages to say. “Inside.”

Hopper nods, opening up the door and walking into the cabin without another word. The moment he’s gone, Mike breathes a sigh of relief, and he turns to his sister. “You… you saw him too, right? I’m not going crazy?”

“You’re not going crazy, Mike,” Nancy says, and she rolls her eyes in amusement. “No more than you already are at least.”

“Ha, ha,” Mike says sarcastically, nudging his sister. “I can’t believe I actually missed you while I was away.”

A smile forms on Nancy’s face. “Me either,” she agrees. “But… I meant it earlier… when I said I’m glad you weren’t here. I’m glad you were safe.”

Mike just snorts. “I mean… we weren’t fighting anything from the Upside Down, but I wouldn’t say we were safe… It’s… definitely been an interesting spring break.”

“If by interesting, you mean fucked up, then same,” Nancy says, and Mike just laughs.

“A little bit,” Mike agrees. “But honestly… still pretty good, in spite of everything. I… I feel like I got a… a lot of clarity on the trip. Figured some stuff out, you know?”

A small laugh escapes Nancy’s lips, and she crosses her arms. “I’m glad one of us did,” she murmurs, and Mike follows her gaze directly to where Joyce, Will, and Jonathan all stand. “Because I feel like I had the exact opposite experience.”

“Well… if you ever want to talk,” Mike says softly, and he nudges her lightly, “don’t ask me to listen.”

“Asshole.” Nancy rolls her eyes, but she pulls him into a hug regardless. 

Mike just laughs, wrapping his arms around his older sister. “Love you too, Nance.”

With another small smile, Nancy just pulls away, then she nods towards where the Byers are all standing. “I think we should probably go talk to Joyce,” she says with a chuckle. “Figure out how the hell she found Hopper and what the hell she’s been up to this whole time.”

“Do you ever wonder if our mom ever gets into chaotic shit like Joyce?” Mike muses as the two of them walk down the porch to where their friends are standing. “I mean, we’re never home to see what she’s doing.”

A thoughtful look forms on Nancy’s face. “You know… I actually wouldn’t put it past her. Maybe that’s a good thing… I get the feeling we’ll have to tell her about all this soon.”

“Yeah.” Mike winces, and he lingers back beside Nancy as the Byers all continue to hug one another. “We… probably should.”

Before Nancy can say anything else, the front door creaks open, and Mike turns around to see both Hopper and El walk out of the cabin. El’s eyes widen when she catches sight of Joyce; likewise, a relieved look forms on Joyce’s face. The two of them run up to one another, and Joyce pulls her daughter into her embrace.

Mike just smiles. In spite of everything—in spite of all the heartache and the fear and the looming threat of the Upside Down still hanging above them—it’s nice to still be able to see the good in the world. It’s moments like these that give Mike hope—hope that no matter how much things change, they’ll all still have each other. His friends and his family and everyone he loves will still be here at the end of the day. No matter what, they’ll figure out a way to be okay.

Hopper makes his way down the porch steps, and Mike happens to glance over, catching his eye. The two of them exchange a small smile, and though Mike doesn’t understand what compels him to do it, he walks over to the older man.

“Hey,” Mike says, softly and a bit awkwardly. 

For what feels like a small eternity, Hopper just studies him carefully, an unreadable but curious expression on his face. “You’ve changed,” he finally says, raising a brow.

Mike can’t help but laugh; he glances down at himself. The last time Hopper had seen him, he was just an awkward, lanky fourteen year old brat of a kid who was still trying to figure himself out and lashing out when he couldn’t. Now, he’s… still pretty awkward and still definitely lanky, but he thinks… he thinks he has a better handle on understanding who he is.

“Is that a good thing?” Mike jokes with a weak laugh.

A slow smile forms on Hopper’s face. “You tell me.”

And Mike thinks back to the past two years. So much has changed since that fateful summer in 1985; practically nothing is the same in Mike’s life anymore. Mike isn’t the same anymore—in more ways than one. There’s still so much about himself that he doesn’t fully know or understand, and he imagines things will keep changing in his life, the older and older that he gets.

But unlike before, the thought of change doesn’t scare him.

Because if this week has done anything for him, it’s shown Mike that change… isn’t inherently a bad thing. Sure, some changes can be bad, but… some changes can be good too. Just this week alone, he has come to realize so much more about himself and come to accept so much about himself than he’s kept buried inside of him for so long. Mike isn’t the same person who left Hawkins a week ago. He isn’t the same person who has spent the past two years miserable and angry and wishing for things to go back to normal. And he isn’t the same person who spent his entire summer throwing himself into his relationship at the expense of all his other friends.

Life has changed so much over these past two years... and Mike? Mike has changed too. And that’s okay.

So, Mike just smiles, and he looks up at Hopper. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I think it is.”

The smile on Hopper’s face grows larger, and he pulls Mike into a hug, squeezing him tightly. It’s one of the first times the two of them have hugged, and yet, the hug feels safe—the way Mike thinks a father’s hug should feel. Like safety. Like pride. Like acceptance.

Maybe it’s a bit embarrassing, but there’s no denying the few tears that slip out of Mike’s eyes before he pulls away. Hopper doesn’t seem to mind, and he just offers Mike a small smile without saying another word. 

A cold breeze blows through the woods.

Despite the fact that it’s been sunny all day, the sky begins to darken, and Mike turns around, his brow furrowed. Likewise, everyone else in their group has turned to look up at the sky as an unnaturally dark storm cloud moves above their heads.

Thunder rumbles in the distance.

And then… something begins falling from the sky.

It takes Mike a second to realize what exactly is falling, but when he does, his heart sinks all the way to the bottom of his stomach. 

Spores.

From the Upside Down.

Shit.

Will turns around to look at Mike. His eyes are wide and full of terror, and everything about the look on his face says, It’s him.

Mike swallows the lump in his throat. His heart is pounding inside of his chest and his whole body feels gripped by the sudden bout of terror, but he wastes no time in hurrying to Will’s side. Likewise, everyone else in the group begins walking out of the forest with Hopper and Joyce leading the way. 

Mike doesn’t know what they’re looking for… the source of the storm, maybe? To see if this is impacting more than just this area—if it’s impacting all of Hawkins? He doesn’t know.

But what he does know is the fact that Will is absolutely terrified. All of them are, of course, but Will… Will has a deeper connection to all of this. To… to One, to the Upside Down… To all of this awful, fucking shit that won’t leave any of them alone. And now, with… with the Upside Down seemingly breaking through into Hawkins, it’s no wonder that Will feels this way.

I won’t let anything happen to you, Mike thinks as he glances over at his best friend. For once, Will doesn’t look back at Mike; no, instead, he stares directly in front of him, a blank, distant expression on his face.

Eventually, Hopper leads them out of the woods, and Mike’s breath catches in the back of his throat.

The meadow outside the forest has begun to rot. Half of the flowers are still their beautiful, vibrant colors, but the other half of the field has turned into a dark, sickly shade of gray. The flowers have all wilted. 

But that’s not even the worst part.

In front of them lies the entirety of Hawkins—or what is left of Hawkins. For the first time, Mike can see a bird’s eye view of just what One has done to his hometown. Dark red cracks zigzag all across Hawkins, all leading to one center point, and there are pillars of gray and black smoke billowing from every direction.

And above the center of the town, a massive black storm cloud begins to overtake the sky. It’s unlike anything Mike has ever seen before, but it’s everything he has heard about over these past few years. Red lightning strikes, thunder rumbles, and the Upside Down’s storm grows larger.

Beside him, Will takes a shaky breath, and Mike glances at him out of the corner of his eye. Though he’s clearly trying to hold it together, Will is trembling, and the look of terror on his face has only intensified. 

Without giving it another thought, Mike takes Will’s hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. Then, loud enough so only Will can hear, Mike whispers, “Whatever happens next… we’ll face it… together.” 

It’s a reassurance. It’s a promise.

In perfect sync, he and Will turn to look at each other. There’s fear and hesitancy in Will’s eyes but also trust—trust in Mike and in his promise.

Eventually, Will squeezes Mike’s hand back, and he nods slightly, turning back to look at the storm as he softly echoes Mike’s promise with a simple one of his own:

“Together.”

Chapter Text

Chapter One Preview

The Beginning of the End

Before she can say another word, Joyce screams, “Will!”

That single word sends ice through Mike’s veins, and he turns around quickly, his eyes widening. Right before his eyes, Will has started fucking levitating—higher, higher, higher until he floats several feet above the ground.

“Will!” Mike screams. His voice comes out in a strangled sob, mixing in with the screams of Joyce and Jonathan and everyone else in the meadow. Vaguely, Mike thinks he hears Nancy’s music start playing again, even louder than before, but he can barely process it. No, all he can focus on is Will.

They’re going to lose Will.

Holy shit, they’re going to lose Will. 

Mike feels like he might be sick, and God, he can barely hear anything over the sound of his own heart beating so quickly he thinks it might burst. Over everyone’s screams, he thinks he might hear someone— Hopper maybe?—tell El to keep trying, but Mike can’t focus on that. The only thought running through his mind is Will. 

He could lose Will. Right here, right now, after Mike had just gotten him back after losing him for two years.

Mike could lose Will.