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Lucas Sinclair is in first grade when it becomes official that he has friends. Not just a friend (singular) but friends (plural). To him, it’s kind of a big deal.

If he were being honest, he was kind of surprised to find people his age who eagerly wanted to talk to him, much less wanted to be his friend. After all, when he moved to Hawkins at four years old, his parents warned him that there were kids his age in their new small town (new home) who may be raised to avoid…someone like him. 

He was smart. He knew his parents pertained to his skin color, from the way he was one of the only two black kids in his entire grade.

Kindergarten was a tough year, more or less. It was just like how his parents warned him: everyone was avoiding him as much as possible, no matter how charismatic he tried to be. He’s pretty sure he even made a girl in his class cry when he smiled at her with his mouth open. 

(She had run away to the girls’ bathroom screaming. Lucas had refrained from smiling with teeth entirely for a couple of weeks after that incident.)

With the kids in his class, it was all civility in the classroom and ignorance outside. No biggie to Lucas, really. He would rather be avoided entirely than be bullied.

It didn’t change how lonely he felt in school, though. When his mom picks him up, he passes by his classmates running around together in the playground and thinks “I want to be a part of that." He looks at the popular kid Chad Evans, with his blonde hair and blue eyes and white skin, and wishes he looked like that, too.

How he gets his friends happens like this: it’s the first week of first grade, and his class adviser, Ms. Whittle, makes the class divide themselves for a project. This was new to them, since teachers often just chose the groups at random, but Ms. Whittle was different and cool.

Lucas looks around his classroom as everyone starts to pair up with one another and feels his spirits dampen. No one bats an eye and comes his way. He puts his head down begrudgingly as he mentally prepares himself to approach Ms. Whittle and ask her to place him in a random group. 

Just as he’s about to get up from his seat, a shadow looms over him. When he looks up, Mike Wheeler is looking at him with a smile on his face.

“Hi Lucas,” Mike greets him. “I was wondering if you wanted to be groupmates with me and Will?”

Lucas blinks in surprise.

The Wheelers were Lucas’ neighbors who lived around three houses away from his own home. They were quite popular not just on Maple Street but across Hawkins, mainly because of how sociable Mrs. Wheeler was with everyone. She had even recently formed a book club with his mother. 

He had only met Mike a handful of times: the first time during the customary introductions when the Sinclairs moved to town, and the other times during neighborhood barbecues. All things considered, Mike was friendly, but he and Lucas just never really had the opportunity to click. This was mostly due to the fact that Mike was usually in his room or somewhere else.

(Lucas would later learn that somewhere else was Will’s house across town.)

It’s a beat or two before Mike raises his eyebrow. “Lucas?” he calls out and waves a hand in front of his face. 

“Sorry,” Lucas blushes as he finally finds his voice. “I’d love to be your groupmate,” and Mike smiles wider. He follows his neighbor to the corner where Will is hunched over and drawing stick figures on his notebook.

“Will,” Mike nudges the smaller boy, and Will looks up. “This is Lucas. We got him to be part of our group!”

“Cool!” Will smiles shyly. “Hi, Lucas! Thanks for joining us.”

“Hey,” Lucas nods back, smiling. He’s only ever seen Will at school and a couple of times at the Wheelers’ house. He didn’t know much about the smaller boy, only that he lived near the woods and had an older brother who looked…mad all the time. 

The three of them settled down just as Ms. Whittle calls the time's up! for group formation and begins to explain the mechanics of the project. Soon enough, they’re made to work, and Lucas finds it fairly easy to talk to Mike and Will; they all shared similar ideas for how they wanted the project to be done, despite the occasional butting heads with Mike.

One thing Lucas notices throughout the whole ordeal is how natural the two other boys’ friendship seems to be. A part of him feels jealous. He wanted that kind of energy with someone. Nonetheless, they were able to develop a rhythm with each other as they talked and worked and even joked around. It’s easily the most fun Lucas has had in schoolwork ever.

Which is why he immediately feels bummed when class was over and recess was next.

Lucas quickly runs back to his table to get his snacks, eager to get to his spot outside. It was a good vantage point: a quiet, shady area that overlooked the whole playground. He had only recently found the place since no one really went there, as it was kind of far from the classrooms and for some reason nobody wanted far. It was a nice place for lonely people.

He debates inviting Mike and Will to join him, although when he turns around, they’re gone. A small part of his heart stings, but Lucas reminds himself that he technically wasn’t friends with them. Don’t be an idiot, Sinclair.

When he makes his way into the schoolyard, he notices a crowd gathering by the playground. Normally, Lucas would avoid those kinds of things, but he gets an inkling that something doesn’t feel right. He tiptoes over the kids to see what the commotion is, and his heart drops when his eyes land on the unfortunate victims of Troy Walsh’s wrath.

Will is on the ground, fashioning a scrape on his knee. He’s not crying, but Lucas can tell that the smaller boy hates the attention on him. Kneeling down beside him is Mike, one arm wrapped around Will’s shoulders and eyes that could kill directly glaring at Troy.

“Get out of here, Troy,” Mike seethes. Lucas sees how he pulls Will protectively a bit more toward him. 

“Or what?” Troy smirks, shuffling his feet a bit as he’s getting ready to kick sand in their faces. “You gonna cry, fairy? Is Frog Face here your knight in rusty armor, fairy princess?” Mike flinches at his unfortunate nickname, and Lucas feels his hands go sweaty with nervousness.

He needs to do something. His mind comes up with two things.

The first scenario was to turn around and leave, and let Mike and Will handle the situation on their own. Lucas didn’t want any trouble, and no doubt standing up to Troy was a sure sign of exactly that. The second scenario was to go up to them and intervene. “A good man stands up for his brothers,” he remembers his father telling him.

But they aren’t your brothers, a selfish inner-Lucas voice reminds him. You are not their friends. This is none of your business.

“Just leave us alone,” Will says. 

“Just leave us alone,” Troy mocks in a high-pitched tone. He looks around to the rest of the crowd and speaks up. “If we do that, I bet you they’re just gonna kiss like how that one princess kissed a frog!” In a sing-song voice, he starts to sing. “Princess and frog face, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!

The students laugh. Troy laughs louder and continues to taunt them. Will and Mike avoid everyone’s gazes, probably waiting for them to just leave.  

Lucas has had enough.

“Hey!” he yells. Everyone stops laughing and turns toward him, Mike and Will included. “Why don’t you just stop, Troy?” Lucas marches toward where the two boys are on the ground. He stands in front of them and glares at Troy. “They’re not doing anything to you.”

The bully cocks his head to the side. “Why are you defending them? Are you a fairy, too?”

“I’m nobody important ,” Lucas asserts. Two things quickly race through his mind: where did his sudden confidence come from? and what does fairy even mean?  “But I’m their friend. And it’s not cool, what you’re doing.” He doesn’t have time to turn around and apologize to Will and Mike for lying about being friends, but he hopes this is enough to get Troy to leave them alone.

“You wanna see cool?” Troy narrows his eyes as he takes a step toward Lucas. Instinctively, he steps back, careful not to trip over the two boys who are apparently frozen in fear. Troy has one fist out, just about ready to punch Lucas. “I’ll show you cool—”

“Hey!” Ms. Whittle calls from a distance, and Troy’s fist stops mid-air. Lucas lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “What is going on here? Everybody scatter! ” she demands. “Mr. Walsh, come with me,” she continues as she tugs on Troy’s arm and leads him elsewhere (no doubt to the principal’s office for a probable time-out or detention).

Before he fully goes away, though, Troy turns around and glares at Lucas. “My parents told me to avoid people like you, ” he snarls. “But I guess you’re no different from those freaks after all.” Ms. Whittle tugs on his arm more forcefully, and this time he follows without fail.

The crowd does dissipate after she drags Troy away, and soon the playground is empty except for the three. Lucas turns around and offers his hands. They silently accept, and Lucas’ grip is strong as he pulls them up.

“Are you guys okay?” he asks, heart pounding loudly from the adrenaline. 

“We are,” Will confirms, although still visibly shaken. “Thanks for standing up for us, Lucas.”

“Yeah,” Mike agrees. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

Lucas shrugs. “I’m sorry I lied, though.” He avoids their eyes, suddenly overcome with shame. “I said we were friends. I don’t want you guys to assume anything. I’m just happy you’re both okay.”

It’s quiet for a beat, but suddenly Lucas feels a firm grip on his shoulder. When he looks up, Mike is smiling at him. “Friends don’t lie, Lucas. And you are our friend.”  

“And that makes you somebody important,” Will adds, also smiling. Lucas feels own smile widen, and he’s elated that neither of them flinch away.

He has friends now. That piece of information takes a while to fully sink into him.

“Well, since friends don’t lie, I’m telling you guys the truth that I’m starving.” On cue, he hears someone’s stomach growl, and the three of them burst into laughter. It was so unlike the mood from moments before. “Do you guys wanna eat with me?”

“Please,” Mike nods eagerly, one arm once again wrapped around Will’s shoulders. Lucas notices, although chooses not to question it. He figures it’s because Will’s still shaken by their encounter with the bully. “Let’s go.”

Lucas leads them toward his vantage point, and they spend the rest of recess bonding. They find out that they have even more in common: favorite games, comics, and TV shows. It ends with Mike creating an open channel for the three of them, and for the first time in his school life, Lucas feels like he belongs. 

It’s a win for him, despite the newfound dread of having to deal with Troy Walsh’s torments, Lucas has friends. And they were totally worth the trouble, because at least they promised to stick together as a team. By the looks on his parents’ faces as he excitedly tells them about his awesome new friends Will Byers and Mike Wheeler, he knows he’s made the right choice.

He goes to bed that evening playfully arguing with Mike over who the better DC superhero was ( “It’s Superman, you moron! He literally has super in his name! What could beat that?” “Oh yeah? He’s not as smart as Batman is! Intelligence beats super everything, idiot!” ) and laughing with Will. The night ends with a chorus of goodnight guys, see you tomorrow! and Lucas falls asleep with a smile on his face.

(Lucas thinks he hears a separate, gentler “goodnight, Will,” from Mike before he closes his SuperComm. He decides not to think much of it. He has friends. That’s all that really matters.)

It’s seventh grade that marks more or less everything beginning to change in Lucas’ life. The realization hits him during their campaign in Mike’s basement a month after Will’s return. 

December air cools down November’s terrors, and Lucas marvels at just how…calm everyone seems compared to weeks ago. The Party is practically halfway done with middle school. 

As it was, the Party also went through something otherworldly, exceeding whatever expectation Lucas had for the school year.

The truth is, he never expected seventh grade to be different. Sixth grade wasn’t any different from the fifth. Fifth grade was more or less like the fourth. The most change Lucas encountered in fourth grade was when Dustin joined their group, but even that didn’t deter anyone much. Matter of fact, their dynamic became more complete. Fourth grade felt barely any different from the third apart from that, and so on, so forth.

The past few years have been the same old dealing with school and mean teachers and excruciating homework, and the same old bullying from the same old bullies with the same old taunts. A part of Lucas was sick of it. He wanted something to change. Something like his hair. Or a new wardrobe. Maybe a new role in D&D campaigns apart from being a ranger (this one was a fleeting thought, because Lucas loved being a ranger). 

He did not, however, intend nor anticipate Will disappearing as change.

The whole week of Will’s vanishing and subsequent return was—in Dustin’s words—fucking insane. Lucas’ head spins with just how much actually happened within the span of seven or so days.

He remembers that first night: the panic he so desperately tried to keep at bay, the lack of attention to his homework, and Mike radioing him, the mutual understanding between them to find Will themselves. There they were in the pouring rain, him and Mike lacking an overall concern for their own safety, and Dustin, “Mr. Cast Protection Instead of Fireball,’ being his hesitant scaredy-cat self before caving in and yelling for their best friend. There they were, not finding Will but instead a strange girl their age with a bad haircut (or lack of hair overall), the vocabulary of a two year-old, and absolutely no sense of privacy.

He remembers that third night: the confusion and bewilderment of knowing the girl, named Eleven (or El), had telekinetic abilities, the anger he felt when she led them to Will’s house with a claim of him being there, and arguing with Mike wasting time on her when they obviously had more important things to do. There they were by Sattler Quarry, watching as they pulled Will’s fake dead body out of the water. There Mike was, out of control and yelling at El, the rage in his voice matching the fire in Lucas’ heart over having his hopes up. There he was, dropping El off at Mike’s house without a word said to her, bursting into his room uncaring of potentially waking his family, and sobbing himself to sleep because fuck, Will was gone.

He remembers that fifth night: breaking into their school—probably the most badass thing he’s ever done in his twelve years of living—and El floating in that bathtub, the fear he felt not only for Will but also for her, because she was one of his friends now. There they were, getting grabbed by the bad men, witnessing a mass murder in real time, then getting trapped in the classroom with the Demogorgon. There he was, aiming his wrist rocket at the monster, heart pounding so fast he thought it would explode. There El was, looking back at them with so much sadness before she screamed herself hoarse and took down the Demogorgon once and for all. There Mike was, eyes glistening as he shouted for El, and there he and Dustin were, eyeing each other in matching grimaces, realizing what had just occurred before them.

He remembers those nights and the moments in between, too. The rollercoaster of hopeful-hopeless when it came to finding Will. The funeral and the van that toppled over their heads and hiding in the junkyard, practically fugitives against the government. Will, skin as pale as moonlight, yet smiling as bright as the sun in the hospital bed, enthusiastically catching up on the “Right Side Up” side of their story; the long hugs Lucas threw his way after every visit.

It’s…a lot. More things happened during that week than Lucas’ whole childhood. He isn’t sure what that says about him. Even more so, he doesn’t really know if he himself is okay.

The sound of Dustin bumping into the table followed by a loud “son of a bitch!” pulls Lucas back to reality.

They’ve finished cleaning up the basement after finally finishing Mike’s latest campaign. Lucas has to admit that it was probably one of Mike’s most mediocre campaigns as Dungeon Master, but it was also the first one he created following…well, everything. He gives his best friend the benefit of the doubt.

“I stubbed my toe,” Dustin whines, rubbing his foot with one hand. “I’m out of here. Mike, you have to get better furniture out here. See you guys!” He doesn’t wait for a response before running up the stairs. 

Lucas turns to Mike, who’s staring at El’s blanket fort. He realizes that it’s the first time in a while that they’re alone together.

“Hey,” Lucas nudges him, and Mike startles at their contact. His eyes are wide when he turns to Lucas. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Mike replies forlornly, gaze turning back to the fort. Lucas shoots him an unimpressed look.

“You sure?” 

“Yes, Lucas,” and there’s the stubborn asshole Lucas knows. Mike turns back to him and gives him a once-over. “Shouldn’t you be home by now?” 

Definitely still the stubborn, grumpy asshole. Lucas has a retort ready to go, but he bites his tongue. He isn’t sure if Mike is emotionally well enough to handle an argument, let alone a playful one. Hell, Lucas isn’t sure he’s emotionally well enough, either. 

After all, they’d just recovered from what was probably their worst fight ever. 

“I’m sticking around for a bit,” is what he says instead. Mike rolls his eyes but says nothing. Lucas spots his hands fidgeting together, fingers picking at the skin. Telltale signs that Mike’s anxious. He wonders if he should say something.

Fights and differences aside, Lucas knows that the events of that week in November struck Mike harder than it did for him and Dustin. 

(When Will went missing, Mike was probably the most relentless out of all of them to find him. He could concede to that. Back then, Lucas called it craziness. Could you blame him, when Mike easily believed in superpowers and bad places and gates to another dimension?

Right now, though, he calls it loyalty. Because that’s what Mike was, loyal. To Lucas himself, in spite of his initial dramatic ordeal against the rule of law. To El, a girl he barely met yet cared for anyway. To Will, his best friend . Their best friend.

He remembers Mike swallowing his pride (terribly, but the effort counts) and drawing first blood anyway, and how Mike was at his side to check on him moments after their fight. He’s reminded that above all things, they were best friends. They had each other’s backs.

Because he remembers how caring Mike was for El, and how jealous he felt, because Will was gone and Mike and Dustin were all Lucas had left, and they needed each other more than ever in those dark days. He thought he needed Mike more than El needed Mike, and it was infuriating that it felt otherwise. He knows now that the bad men were objectively the worst men, and El needed someone by her side.

Most of all, he remembers how Mike was when they reunited with Will. The way he stayed awake and waited for Will in the waiting room. The way he was always the first to be there and last to leave during every visit. The way he sticks by Will’s side upon his return to school; shielding him away from the whispers and the stares, and having a whole ass system of notes just for Will. The way Mike always put on his brave face around Will, attending to his needs as much as Mrs. Byers did.)

The thing is, Lucas doesn’t really know how to approach Mike in these types of things. That was always Will’s role, the calm to Mike’s raging storm. But Will clearly still has his own shit to deal with, so Mike was left to fend for himself.

Not if Lucas could help it.

His father told him once that soldiers just stand with each other in times of death. No words need to be said, if you don’t have the right ones. So that’s what Lucas does instead, stick around Mike in patient silence. The other boy doesn’t seem to mind at all (although Lucas isn’t even sure if Mike is still aware of his presence).

Eventually Lucas has to go, but Mike is still zoned out. There’s one thing he decides to say before he leaves.

“You did a great job, Mike,” he says softly. He hopes the message is clear. Great job with the campaign. For showing me we’re still friends. For taking care of El. For not giving up on Will. 

Mike lets out a shuddering breath, and Lucas nods, satisfied. He’s turning around and then trudging up the stairs, mentally preparing to brace the cold (and his mother’s sermon), when he finally gets a reply.

“Thanks, Lucas,” Mike says, voice barely above a whisper. “You did a great job, too.” Code: Great job with dealing with me. For being able to accept El. For not giving up on Will, too.

Eighth grade, Lucas decides, is objectively better than seventh grade.

Yes, they did have to deal with the fact that Will was possessed for a brief period of time and was basically on the verge of being lost forever again. Yes, he and Dustin did have somewhat of a fallout over a girl (never in a million years would he imagine that happening). Yes, he was almost eaten by the so-called Demodogs. And yes, he was essentially almost killed twice by some racist asshole who just so happened to be his crush’s older brother. 

Putting all that aside, eighth grade easily tops seventh grade. Hell, eighth grade might probably be his best year yet.

For one thing, the bullying from Troy and James came to a halt. He and the rest of the Party were no longer tormented by Pee Boy and his sidekick everyday, and it was bliss. Rumor had it that Troy’s dad lost his job, which is why the family packed their things and hightailed out of Hawkins as soon as the calendar hit December.

(Lucas doesn’t want to be mean, but well. Troy was meaner. So he lets himself bask in the goodness that is karma just for a little bit, and mutters a big good riddance, asshole! as he passes by the old Walsh house.)

For another thing, they saved Will and saved Hawkins. Again. This time, he’s done even more badass things in the process; things like kicking resident douchebag Billy Hargrove in the balls and setting fire to what he presumes is the heart of all the Demodogs. The army was dead, the Mind Flayer was gone, and Will was more or less free. The bonus was that El had returned, too. Lucas never realized how much he missed her until he saw her again, clad in her punk-MTV look. Definitely not her best outfit, but she looked so happy to see them again that he let the ridicule slide.

But no doubt, the best part about eighth grade was Max Mayfield.

Lucas doesn’t understand how he lucked out with her. Max was fierce and smart and sarcastic and kind of mean, but she was also fucking awesome. This was a girl who could easily be Queen of the Arcade with how much ass she kicked in practically every game (he isn’t even mad that she topped his score in Dragon’s Lair). This was a girl who could skateboard and drive at 13 years old and be able to shut Mike Wheeler up for once in his life. She’s easily the coolest person Lucas has ever met.

Max was everything Lucas didn’t realize he was looking for. He had never expected her to actually be friends with him, let alone kiss him.

She kissed him. Lucas smiles giddily at the reminder.

“What are you thinking about, stalker?” Max asks in a knowing tone. She’s still in his arms while they sway among the swarm of their schoolmates. He remembers now, they’re at the Snow Ball. Lucas looks at her and feels his heart flutter, with her red hair striking against the frosty blue haze of the gym lights, the freckles scattered over her face like stardust, and a twinkle in her eye. In other words, captivating. 

“You,” Lucas answers honestly. He swears he can see Max’s cheeks turn as bright as her hair. It’s fucking adorable. She’s fucking adorable.

“I kiss you once and suddenly I’m all that’s in your head?” she smirks. 

He can’t help but channel the Sinclair charm. “Who’s to say you haven’t been in my head all the time before that already?”

Max’s smile becomes bigger as she giggles and hides her face in his neck. “You’re such a dork,” she grumbles playfully.

“Your dork,” he shrugs and smiles goofily. Max doesn’t say anything else, but Lucas swears she nuzzles her head against his neck ever so slightly in confirmation. He feels like doing a happy skip right then and there. (He won’t. He wants Max to stay in his arms.)

Eventually, the night starts coming to an end. Max gets picked up by Billy, who wisely says nothing even as Lucas walks her to his car and squeezes her hand goodbye. He probably cares more about not losing his dick than being one, Lucas thinks to himself as he recalls that one good hit he got on the older man. He goes back to the gym and tries to spot where the rest of his friends are.

Mike and El are talking to each other happily by their reserved table. Dustin’s nowhere to be found. And Will…

Lucas spots Will sitting forlornly near the photo area, presumably waiting for Jonathan to finish up his escort duties for the night. He looks like he doesn’t wanna be there. Hell, he looks like he doesn’t wanna be anywhere.

“Hey,” Lucas greets his best friend as he approaches. Will looks up and gives him a small smile.

“Hey,” Will replies. He scoots over to give Lucas some space beside him. They stay quiet for a few moments, just watching their remaining schoolmates mingle. Lucas sees Will fidget with his wrist, telltale signs that he was nervous.

“Are you okay?” Lucas asks, nudging Will slightly by the shoulder. Will huffs out a breath and nods once.

“I’m good.” 

It’s bullshit, and they both know it. Lucas can sense the total lack of okayness in Will’s voice and sees the way he purses his lips after responding. Lucas aches to do something about it, because it was the Snow Ball and everything was supposed to be fine.

The problem is that Lucas doesn’t really know the best way to approach Will in times like this. That was Mike’s thing, but Mike wasn’t there and Will wasn’t actively seeking him out.

Lucas has had a few realizations in the month following their whole debacle with the Mind Flayer, such as the fact that Will was clearly not comfortable with how Lucas (and Dustin) has been treating him over the past year. He knew it by the way Will didn’t want to tell anyone in the Party except Mike about his episodes. He had to admit, it kind of hurt, how it seemed Will didn’t really trust him with that. It’s just that he didn’t know what Will needed from him to earn the Mike-level of trust.

He figures that was how Max felt when they refused to tell her about the Upside Down. That’s another thing Lucas realized recently: how it was probably not okay for him to tell her the truth without Will’s permission. 

“I’m sorry,” Lucas blurts out. Will turns to him in confusion. “For telling Max the truth without asking you first.” He holds out his hand, a signal that he’s drawing first blood. He (as Dustin liked to remind him annoyingly) broke the rule of law, after all.

Will looks down on his hand for a beat, then slowly shakes it with his own. “It’s okay,” he replies. “She was a big help to us—to me, anyway. Or so—” and oh, he’s smirking mischievously. “—that’s what you keep telling me.” Lucas blushes as he recalls the way he raved to Will about how badass she was when she injected Billy with that sleeping serum and how she almost hit his dick with the bat-with-nails and how she stole the car keys and drove without hesitation to the tunnels—

Lucas stops himself. He’s getting distracted. (Max was distracting in a good way, but now was clearly not the time.)

“She was amazing, okay?” Lucas says anyway, because while he didn’t want to be distracted, he also wanted to be Max Mayfield’s #1 Defender at all times. And it didn’t hurt to acknowledge her bravery in accepting the risk and all that. “But that’s…that’s not all I’m sorry for.” Will tilts his head a bit.

“What else are you sorry for, then?”

“For making you feel like…you couldn’t talk to me,” Lucas shrugs helplessly. Will looks away from him then. “As far as I know, you told Mike only about what was going on with you. And it sucks, because I feel like maybe I did something that made you uncomfortable.”

It’s a few moments before Will responds. “You don’t need to be sorry,” he says thoughtfully. “I know you mean well. It’s just…” he fidgets with his wrist again. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to walk eggshells around me. I’m not that fragile. I can handle myself more than you realize. I mean—” he chuckles self-deprecatingly. “—I survived the Upside Down for a week on my own.”

Lucas bites his lip, feeling ashamed. Will surviving the Upside Down for a week on his own was exactly why Lucas acted the way he did. His best friend was sensitive to a lot of things, and something as traumatizing as the Upside Down was obviously no exception. He wanted to remind Will that he wasn’t alone, so he was at a constant back-and-forth between prodding him if he was okay and leaving him be, all while making less jokes that might come across as insensitive to him.

It didn’t occur to him that his way of making Will feel less alone only did the opposite and caused him to feel more alone.

Or perhaps…he wasn’t exactly alone. Because Will had Mike. That was another realization Lucas had in the past month: how attuned Mike really was when it came to Will. Almost every time Mike had gotten in trouble the past year had something to do with Will: acting out to the teachers who were particularly mean to Will when it came to school assignments, plagiarizing the bathroom stall to cover up the Zombie Boy nickname, and plagiarizing an essay he crammed because he had been too busy helping Will with something.

(And don’t even get him started on when Will was possessed by the Mind Flayer. Mike was practically a feral guard dog towards everyone on site.)

A part of Lucas thinks he should be jealous of Mike’s friendship with Will, but it was Mike and Will. Best friends before Lucas joined the duo, never one without the other. It just made sense that Will would turn to Mike and no one else first for…big things like anything about the Upside Down.

“I still am sorry,” Lucas repeats. “I’ll do better next time. You’re my best friend, and I never want you to feel like you can’t talk to me.” He grips Will’s shoulders as a sign of reassurance.

Will nods appreciatively. “Thanks, Lucas. I’ll do better at…letting you know things. After all, you’re my best friend, too.” They share a smile before falling in silence again, not knowing what to say. Lucas turns toward their three other friends. El is ruffling (ruining) Dustin’s Steve-esque hairdo innocently much to the curly-haired boy’s (loud) chagrin, all while Mike laughs and wraps his arm around El’s shoulder.

“They’re pretty cute, don’t you think?” Lucas says, nodding toward the direction of Mike and El.  Will doesn’t say anything, just looks in the same direction. “Will?” Lucas turns toward the smaller boy, noticing how his face had fallen a bit, a contrast to just seconds ago. “You good?”

“Huh?” Will shakes his head, as if snapping out of a trance. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I guess they do.” It’s weird how…hesitant Will sounds. 

Lucas studies him before carefully asking, “Is there...anything else you wanna talk about?”

“No no, sorry. I was…I was just lost in thought,” Will says sheepishly, face a bit red. For a fleeting moment, Lucas thinks that the topic of Mike and El isn’t something Will wants to talk about, for reasons unknown. 

Will turns toward Lucas, awkwardness turning into mischief. “So…Max, huh?” 

This time, it’s Lucas’ turn to turn red. “Yeah. Max.” Now that’s a topic he can talk about easily. Will allows Lucas to rave about Max to him for as long as he wants and throws in teasing comments here and there, until Jonathan rounds him up to go home. 

Before he gets up and leaves, Lucas pulls Will in for a hug. “Hey,” Lucas says into his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay. I’m glad that piece of shit monster is gone.” Will hugs him back tighter before pulling away.

“I’m glad you found Max,” Will replies. “I’m happy you have her…that you’re all—” he turns toward Mike and El again, the latter getting ready to leave as well with Hopper in tow. “—getting girlfriends.” When he faces Lucas again, his smile is a bit weaker. “You deserve it. And I’ll see you soon.” He turns around and leaves without another word.

That night, Lucas goes to bed with a smile on his face. He and Will are okay. He and Max are better than okay. The Party is fine, the monsters are defeated, and the day is saved. Definitely a better ending than last year.

(It occurs to Lucas before passing out how weird Will acted with the topic of Mike and El. But he brushes it off, because hey, Mike Wheeler having a girlfriend? It is kind of weird.

He can hear Max’s voice as he thinks those words. He sleeps with a goofy grin on his face.)

Summer before high school, at least the first half, is arguably one of the best summers Lucas has had. Probably second on the list, because nothing tops his trip to Florida and all the sunny beaches. 

It’s Max’s first summer in Indiana, so Lucas takes it upon himself to give her the full “summer in Hawkins” experience. He brings her everywhere: swimming and picnics at Lovers’ Lake (because the community pool was too crowded), stargazing on top of abandoned cars in the junkyard (because no one else was ever there), and trips to the newly-opened Starcourt Mall (sometimes, Mike and Will tag along with them). He tries to teach her D&D and in turn she tries to teach him how to skateboard. 

Predictably, their attempts to do each other’s hobbies ends up disastrous. His girlfriend has shit luck with rolling, and half the time she gets bored. He sucks at balancing himself on the skateboard and has bruised himself like a peach over the week he’s tried.

(Not doing each other’s favorite hobbies is fine. Their common ground is movies and comic books and shared mixtapes between them.)

Summer is also filled with trying new things. He starts exercising with his dad in the mornings. He steals his mother’s cookbook recipe and bakes new things, usually recruiting the Party as his taste testers. He even tries his hand at art, although he would never be as good as Will. It’s all outside of the stereotypical “nerd” image he’s taken upon himself, and it’s oddly freeing.

It’s also the first summer where the Party is kind of split. Dustin was away at summer camp for the whole month of June. 85% of Mike’s time is spent at El’s place because she was still on lockdown (Lucas agrees with Mike’s sentiment that it was bullshit, but he wasn’t dumb enough to argue with the Chief). Will was off somewhere in his own little world, although he’s the second person Lucas has seen the most in the season. 

A part of him feels weird that it wasn’t just him and the boys anymore; no more daily routine of lounging in Mike’s basement and playing D&D all day, no more arguing playfully with Dustin over the most useless things. Somewhere deep down, he misses it. 

But at the same time, it feels like growing up. His parents did tell him that it was never really a bad thing, after all. He feels like a grown up, because Mike turns to him for advice about relationships, probably one of the most grown-up things to ever talk about.

(He understands Mike’s need to impress El—to keep her happy and to get her back when she inevitably dumps his ass. Having a girlfriend comes with many complexities. Having a girlfriend is like constantly walking through a minefield and getting back up when you get hit, anyway.)

Summer before high school, at least the first half, is great. And then of course it goes to shit.

Will gets mad at him and Mike. It’s the first time Lucas has ever actually seen Will angry, especially at Mike. He feels horrible, because while he and Mike were so focused on girlfriends and growing up, Will was doing the opposite. 

(He promised he’d do better by Will as a friend, and he failed. Terribly. The apology wasn’t even enough nor was it prioritized because of… other things.)

Billy and some other Hawkins residents become soldiers for an old enemy of theirs. They’re fighting the Mind Flayer again, and it’s one of the most disgusting things Lucas has ever seen in his life. And he watched Alien, which had him throwing up on the way home from the cinema. Oh, and apparently, there’s a hidden base underneath Starcourt that belongs to the Russians, and for some reason, they knew about the Upside Down, too. Dustin and his goddamn sister were on the verge of death because of that.

On top of that? Hopper dies. And the Byers are scheduled to move in the fall. It’s suddenly growing up in the worst ways possible.

After the fourth of July and August become some of the loneliest months of Lucas’ life. He goes from hanging out with Max daily to only seeing her once or twice a week. Ever since Billy’s death, her stepdad stopped allowing her to go out of the house everyday. Not that she really wanted to go out, anyway. Their summer routine becomes near-silent radio calls because all Max can think about is seeing Billy die in front of her eyes.

He goes from helping Mike with his girlfriend issues to barely seeing his best friend. He, too, had fallen into a spell of radio silence ever since Will broke the news that they were moving. The Byers and El were forbidden from making contact with anyone in Hawkins for the rest of summer as per Dr. Owens’ instructions, and it fucking sucked. Mike becomes a pain in the ass to be friends with, never in the mood for anything anymore, so Lucas gives him space.

For the rest of summer, it’s him and Dustin, but even then his other best friend is preoccupied, too. He spends the remainder of the season keeping up with the other hobbies he’s tried and making plans for high school. If he had to grow up, he might as well do it in a way he feels best. He starts training with his dad for an eventual tryout to Hawkins High’s basketball team. He makes mixtapes for Max and mails them to her house. He gets back a bit into D&D, pretending he was Dungeon Master out of sheer boredom (he knows he’s never going to be as good as Mike, though). 

The Byers’ moving day happens a month after they start high school, and for some reason everyone acts…normal. Well, normal meaning the dynamic before summer went to shit. He and Max tease Dustin about Suzie, and it’s the first time in a while that Lucas sees his girlfriend smile.

Across the room, he sees Will’s D&D board packed away in a donation box, and his heart breaks because they never finished Will’s summer campaign. And now they would probably never get to.

(“Your campaign was cool, man. I’m sorry we never got a chance to properly do it,” Lucas tells Will regretfully before they go.

“I hope someday we will,” his best friend replies simply, a small smile on his face. Lucas promises again not to let Will down anymore. He also steals the board and decides to give it to Erica, since Dustin told him she was practically a closeted nerd.)

The time comes for them to leave, and it’s around ten minutes of the most emotional goodbyes Lucas has ever had to do. He sees Mike and El lean their foreheads against each other (apparently, they’re back together), and Mike and Will holding onto each other tightly. Max clings to his arm, and they watch as their best friends leave town for what is probably forever.

They go back to school the Monday after the move and back to the dynamics they had after the Battle of Starcourt. Max makes excuses not to see him or anyone during lunch period. He tells Mike and Dustin that he’s trying out for basketball, and they laugh in his face. It’s painful, how unserious they take the news about it, but they’re smiling. He sees it as a win, anyway.

After classes, he decides fuck it, and barges into Mike’s basement. It’s the first time in around two and a half months he’s been inside. The first thing he notices is how… messy it is. There’s blankets piled on the ratty couch and bags of chips sprawled all over the table and floor. It kind of smells like Doritos. The second thing he notices is Mike carrying a binder and putting new artwork around the walls.

“New decor?” Lucas asks. Mike jumps and whips around so fast, as if he never noticed Lucas come in. He looks like a deer in headlights, as if caught doing something illegal.

“Jesus, you scared me,” Mike grumbles as he turns around and sticks another piece of art on the wall. Lucas recognizes it as Will’s drawings and snatches the binder from a protesting Mike.

“Are these all Will’s?” Lucas asks, wide-eyed. 

“Yeah?” Mike says as if it’s supposed to be obvious. “The walls look boring. His art adds a nice touch to them.”

Lucas purses his lips and watches as Mike continues putting up the decor. It’s a mix of work he’s seen and not seen before: their D&D characters in different scenarios, monsters based on the little figurines, landscapes and other objects, and even some that look unfinished.

It’s nice, he thinks. That Mike kept practically everything Will drew.

Mike turns around after putting up three new drawings, one eyebrow raised. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be training right now?”

Lucas is a bit surprised Mike isn’t actively making fun of basketball. “Already did this morning,” he replies. “And I don’t know, I’d like to think I’m still welcome here.” He crosses his arm, mirroring Mike’s raised eyebrow. “I am still welcome here, right?”

His best friend rolls his eyes. “Of course you are,” he says defensively. He sits on the couch and pats the space next to him. “Make yourself at home.” He switches on the radio on the table, and a mixtape begins to play.

Lucas grins slightly and settles beside Mike, unpacking his homework from his backpack. It’s a routine the Party did before; the four of them (plus Max) would gather in Mike’s basement to do homework while watching TV or listening to music.

They peacefully get into that same routine quite easily, although there’s considerably less talking. Lucas recognizes the mixtape as one of Will’s. Mick Jagger’s vocals fill up the void of noise in the room. He catches Mike tapping his pencil along to the music.

Mike has never been into the Rolling Stones before. Lucas decides not to question it.

The routine carries on for around half an hour. When Lucas looks up from his history assignment, Mike isn’t doing his English homework anymore. Instead, he’s staring blankly into space.

Lucas thinks back to last summer, when Will stormed out in the rain after he and Mike apparently fought. He doesn’t know the extent of their argument, because neither of them wanted to talk about it. He’s not even sure if they actually resolved it properly. All he remembers is panic and finding Will at a destroyed Castle Byers, soaking wet as he felt the Mind Flayer’s presence.

(Will refused to talk about what happened to that place. Lucas has his suspicions, as guilty as it makes him feel.)

He looks at Mike’s face. His best friend looks so lifeless as his eyes wander aimlessly around the basement, and eventually settle back and forth between the drawing of the six of them in their D&D get-ups and the phone on the wall. It doesn’t take a genius to know that Mike’s missing two very important people in his life.

“I miss them too, you know,” Lucas speaks up. Mike turns to him, a flicker of surprise on his face immediately turning into an unreadable expression. “It’s been two days since they left, but it feels like months.”

Mike doesn’t say anything. Lucas doesn’t really know what he expected from him. Mike was stubborn as fuck and always liked to make himself tough. Emotions were probably as foreign to him as the obligatory Spanish class they had to take.

“You and El will still talk through Dustin’s Cerebro,” Lucas continues. “And you can write letters! My cousin Andy writes to his girlfriend a lot. They’ve been doing that long distance thing for two years now. Also—” he nods to the phone. “—you can always call Will. It’ll be okay, Mike.”

“I’m okay, Lucas. You don’t have to remind me of the obvious,” Mike grumbles. “I know you’re right, but I’m fine. Everything is fine. I know I can call Will anytime I want.”

It doesn’t sound like it, and they both know it, but Lucas isn’t in the mood to deal with Mike’s assholery right now. So he accepts his snark and carries on in silence. When he eventually decides to go home for dinner, Lucas hesitates before squeezing Mike’s shoulder in reassurance anyway.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Lucas says. Mike says nothing but nods as he writes in his notebook. It’s an acceptable enough response, so Lucas leaves.

On the way back to his house, he thinks about why Mike was randomly writing “crazy together” with a few doodles of stars on the margins of the paper. It’s probably an El thing. That’s it. He just misses her a lot, Lucas decides, although it doesn’t feel…right. It occurs to him then, too, how Mike made no mention of El…just Will.

It's weird that he finds Mike missing El to be weird, but Lucas can’t place his finger on it. Maybe I’m going crazy, too, he thinks. Yeah. That’s probably it. There isn’t any time nor there is a reason he should be thinking too much about it. 

Not when he has to move on and continue… growing up. Embracing the change.

High school is…different . Lucas has yet to decide if it’s good different or bad different.

The teachers don’t get any nicer and the assignments don’t get any easier. Also, basketball games aren’t as fun, because he’s always on the bench. He wants to get out on the court and play and prove that he can do it, that he isn’t just some nerd who decided to try out basketball for kicks.

But he’s bullied a lot less. And Jason and the rest of the team are pretty cool. They save him a seat at the lunch table and trade assignment answers with him, even if they’re…not as smart. It’s the thought that counts, anyway. Jason takes him under his wing and introduces him to the world of popularity, or at the very least…normalcy. It’s daunting, but it’s exciting. It’s fun, not being made fun of for once in his goddamn life. He embraces it as much as he can without trying to turn into an asshole.

(He doesn’t tell anyone on the team that he was a member of Hellfire, though. They most likely wouldn’t take that piece of information well.)

High school is different, and so is the Party. If they could even call themselves that anymore.

Mike and Dustin…well. Lucas can’t remember the last time he’s properly hung out with them, because basketball takes a lot of his time and energy. He barely joins in on Hellfire meetings, although Eddie doesn’t necessarily give him as much shit for it as his best friends do. He can count on one hand the amount of campaigns he’s participated in. 

They’ve embraced Hellfire and their status as school freaks, and Lucas hates it. It’s why he’s stopped eating with them at lunch and only really joined them after school. He hates the dirty looks sent their way from schoolmates and teachers alike whenever they wear the Hellfire shirts to class. He hates how the girls giggle at them, and not in a flirtatious manner.

It makes sense that they wouldn’t care about that last part. Mike has El, and Dustin has Suzie. They have girlfriends.

Not like Lucas. Because Max broke up with him somewhere in the middle of freshman year.

Thinking about Max hurts, because Lucas knows she’s hurting. Her depression evidently got worse when her stepdad left and they had to move to the trailer park. It hurts, because she didn’t even tell him directly. He found out from Eddie Munson, her apparent new neighbor.

(She had snapped at him when he confronted her about it. “It’s fine, Lucas,” she insisted. “I’m not your girlfriend anymore, and I also am not a baby. I can take care of myself. You should stop worrying about me.”

Like hell would he ever stop worrying about Max fucking Mayfield.)

It hurts, because he wants her to talk to him. Not even as boyfriend and girlfriend, he’d settle for talking as just friends. He misses her all too well; misses her bright smile and spiteful sarcasm. Nowadays she really was like a ghost, eerie and unpredictable. He aches for her. He’s even ready to argue with her again, if it means seeing a small fire in her eyes rather than the current emptiness it holds.

But she’s Max, and Lucas has to trust that she knows what she’s doing. So he gives her space and waits no matter how hard it is to do so. He holds onto that hope that she’ll come back to him somehow.

So yeah, the Party doesn’t feel like a Party anymore. It stopped feeling like it when Will and El moved away.

God, Lucas misses them. His life was so entangled with theirs for the past few years over dealing with the Upside Down that having both of them gone was just…odd. He sends them a few letters, since phone calls were usually a hit or miss at their residence for some reason. Probably a California thing, he thinks.

His letters for El come in some stationery he steals from Erica, ranging from the glittery unicorn ones to the scented ones. El had told him she enjoyed every new design that came with his letters, with her favorite being the pink strawberry-scented one. He tells her about Hawkins High and gives her a few updates about Max (because El missed her so much, and apparently Max hadn’t been sending much letters). For Christmas, he sends her a pack of her favorite stationery along with a matching pink glitter pen.

His letters for Will are a bit more detailed as compared to El. He hasn’t forgotten his promise of doing better by Will, especially with how their summer ended. He tells him about Hellfire (despite his idleness to the club) and how he thinks Will would enjoy Eddie’s campaigns. He tells him about basketball, because Will was probably the only member of the Party who didn’t mind his rambling about the sport. Will tells him about Lenora Hills High and how big the student body is. They find common ground with one thing about high school: neither of them are getting bullied anymore. 

They send other things to each other, too. Will and El give him postcards of other places in California, polaroids of them taken by Jonathan, and some drawings (he can tell which one’s from El and which one’s from Will, and it’s adorable, how close they are now as siblings). In turn, he sends them polaroids of himself and Erica, as well as pictures of Hawkins for nostalgia and (very rarely) pictures of the other members of the Party.

The year goes by quicker than he expects, and suddenly it’s his first ever championship game. He’s nervous as hell, even if he doesn’t expect to play much. It doesn’t help that he argued with all three of the physically present Party members earlier in the day, and that he’d probably get shit on by Eddie for missing Vecna’s campaign.

The national anthem plays, and Lucas searches for any of his friends in the crowd amidst Tammy Thompson’s horrible singing. His heart sinks when he doesn’t find any of them. He tries not to take it personally, really. Vecna’s campaign was as important to them as the championships were to him. Not even Erica was there, and she usually tagged along to his games despite complaining about how bored she was after.

At least Steve, Robin, and Nancy are there…even if it wasn’t necessarily for him. That has to count for something.

“You good, Sinclair?” Jason asks, shaking Lucas out of his stupor. 

Lucas faces his captain, back straightened as he usually did to display confidence. “Nervous,” he admits. 

“There’s no room to be nervous here,” Jason reminds him. “We’re doing it for Hawkins. And hey,” he puts a hand on Lucas’ shoulder and squeezes. “We’re gonna win this, okay?”

Lucas nods, forcing his head in the game. “Okay.”

The referee blows his whistle, and everything starts. The majority of the game is neck-and-neck, and Lucas thinks he sees veins popping out of Jason’s head. Patrick and Andy are running around in circles. Someone else on his team gets into a scuffle with one of the Falcons. At the back of the bench where he’s situated, he can hear some…colorful remarks from the fans coming from either team.

He hears some racial slurs, too. He tries to ignore how fast his heart begins to accelerate by the hurtful insults. The bright lights of the gym mixed with the cheers of the crowd are fucking dizzying. 

The final minutes are tense. Chrissy and the other cheerleaders are screaming loudly, trying to continue the hype in the crowd. In his periphery, he can see Steve tugging at his hair, clearly stressed. He’s mouthing off something to his date, who looks increasingly bored by him.

If Dustin were here, he’d no doubt call Steve out for being the worst date ever, Lucas thinks. For some reason, thinking about them despite their lack of presence grounded him. And if Mike and Max were here, they’d be bored, too. El and Will would probably be the only ones at least mildly invested in the game. Go figure.

Suddenly, he’s called by the coach to “get his ass on court!” He high-fives Patrick and Jason as he joins the huddle. It occurs to him that it’s technically his first real game of the season. The referee blows his whistle again, and once again they’re off.

He dodges the Falcons as best as he can, but they’re falling behind. Jason’s getting increasingly frustrated, taking it upon himself to get the winning shot. He gets it, if he’s being honest. Sometimes you just have to do the work yourself to get it right, even with the supposed best of the team, his father used to say.

And then Jason misses the shot. The ball is within his reach. Lucas grabs it with his hands, hears the squeaking of his sneakers against the shiny wood of the court, and focuses on nothing but the basket. He aims and shoots and he thinks his heart ricochets the same time the ball leaves his hands.

And he scores. Right on the dot.

He wins for the team.

It doesn’t register until Jason and the rest of the team surround him in joyful screams. Green confetti is flying everywhere, the marching band is playing, and the crowd is wild. He can hear the commentator and the team screaming his name for all of Hawkins to hear.

He breezes past photographs, a quick interview from an exhilarated Nancy, and a cold shower. His muscles are sore, but damn if he doesn’t feel good. He fucking won for the team.

“You’re a goddamn star, Sinclair,” Josh smirks, patting him on the shoulder. Jason’s invited him to go to his first ever party at the abandoned Benny’s Burgers. He’s on Cloud Nine as he walks with them to the bus, but then he sees the Hellfire Club walk out…with Erica.

They look just as excited, which means they probably won the campaign. Dustin’s looking at his little sister like she was some sort of queen (that means she probably had the winning roll). He has to admit, it stings. 

He honestly wasn’t really feeling up for a party. He’d rather be with his Party, celebrating in Mike’s basement with pizza and candy and staying up all night long. He wanted Will and Mike and Dustin and El and Max at his side as he basks in the glory of winning.

But they’re not really a Party anymore. Patrick tugs on his arm, and Lucas begrudgingly follows. The bus ride to Benny’s Burgers is loud and rowdy, with some of the team and the cheerleaders pregaming with alcohol hidden in their duffle bags. 

When they arrive at the destination, he spots a phone booth near the abandoned building. He decides on calling Max, just to check on her and see what she was doing. She’s the one person he couldn’t be mad at for missing his game. He decides against it, eventually. She was pissed off at him enough already, and calling her would probably make her pull away from him even more than she already has. He dials another number instead.

The line rings for about ten seconds before someone picks up. The fastest someone has ever picked up, ever. “Hello?” It’s Will.

“Hey,” Lucas greets him, excited. “It’s Lucas.”

“Oh,” Will says, as if…disappointed or surprised by the answer. The demeanor changes almost immediately. “Holy shit, Lucas! How was your game?”

Lucas smiles. At least Will cared enough about the game. “It was…it was good, man. I uh…I made the winning shot.”

He can picture his best friend’s enthusiastic smile on the other end. “Yeah? That’s amazing, dude, congrats! I’m so proud of you!” And wow, hearing someone from the Party proud of him? Lucas feels his heart become lighter.

“Thanks,” he replies excitedly, and suddenly he can’t stop babbling. “It was fucking awesome. You should’ve seen it. My team captain, Jason? He missed the shot. I had it in my hands for the last second. I swear I could hear Steve yelling Go, Lucas! Don’t fuck this up! in the crowd.” There’s a breath of a laugh coming from Will. “I just shot and it went in, dude. It doesn’t feel real.”

“I can imagine,” Will replies, amused. “Did you do a…what do you call it? Slam dunk? Or was it a jump shot?” And Lucas is kind of bewildered that Will knew the terms. 

(Then again, it was Will. He could always surprise you.)

“It was a jump shot,” Lucas says proudly. He continues babbling to Will, who throws in occasional mm’s and awesome’s his way. When he checks his watch, it suddenly occurs to him that it’s near midnight in California. “Ah shit, sorry Will. I didn’t realize the time. Am I keeping you up?”

“Kind of,” Will admits. “It’s fine, though. But um…you aren’t with Mike or anyone else in the Party right now?”

“No,” Lucas sighs. He decides not to tell Will about them skipping the game for Vecna’s campaign. He didn’t want any more bad vibes among them right now. “I’m with the team right now. We’re having a celebration. Don’t be surprised if I call you drunk off my ass later,” he laughs.

“Oh god,” his best friend whines. “Please call me. I don’t care how late it is. I’d love to hear it.” They share a laugh followed by companionable silence.

“Hey uh,” Will stammers, and he sounds sheepish. “I know Mike’s gonna be here tomorrow and I could just…ask him directly, but um…” Lucas doesn’t know why he sounds so hesitant. “Is he…is he okay? Has he ever mentioned anything to you about being…mad at me?”

He stares at the receiver for a few seconds in shock. Mike? Mad at Will? “No…” he replies, concerned. Mike never mentioned anything about being mad at Will to him. (In fairness, Mike never mentioned much anymore apart from homework and Hellfire.) “Why? Is…is everything okay with you guys?”

It’s a beat before he gets a reply. “Yeah. Forget I asked that.”

As if Lucas can just forget about that. “Are you sure? I can call his place and ask—”

“NO!” Will yelps, and Lucas jumps a bit. “Sorry, sorry. It’s okay, Lucas. Really. It’s nothing. I’m just being stupid.” He’s stumbling all over his words. “You should go and have fun with your team, alright? Seriously. I’m okay.”

And he doesn’t want to baby Will (he’s long since learned his lesson on that), so Lucas nods despite Will not seeing. “Okay,” he mutters. “If there’s anything you want me to do, just let me know, alright?”

“Definitely,” Will agrees. “I should go to bed, Lucas, sorry. Gotta be up early to meet Mike at the airport…”

“Yeah, no! I get it. You need to sleep. I’m sorry for keeping you up.” Lucas bites his lip, because as selfish as it was, he didn’t want the call to end. He wanted to stay with his friend.

“Don’t be sorry,” Will chides softly. “Hey…congratulations again, okay? From what I heard, you were amazing. I really wish I was there to see it. Goodnight.”

“Night,” Lucas whispers as the line ends. His mind is spinning between ditching the party and maybe seeing his Party anyway, forgetting about their argument. Going to Max’s place, although she’d no doubt kick him out or even refuse to let him inside. Going to Dustin’s place, although he’d probably be on the radio with Suzie, recounting everything that happened in the campaign. Sneaking into Mike’s basement again, to see if there was anything going on between him and Will.

Because he knows Will well enough to call bullshit that he was okay. And any opportunity to knock some sense into Mike’s head was golden.

“Sinclair!” Jason yells from outside the booth. “You coming here or what? Come on man, we’re missing you!”

It’s a short battle in his head, where the side of fuck it and stay with the team wins. Mike and Will’s drama can wait. Will can handle himself. Mike can handle himself, too. They were Will and Mike after all. So he nods to Jason. “Coming!” he yells back, jogging to wear his captain stands, ready to pour some liquor in Lucas’ mouth.

The rest of the night is a haze, filled with cheering and alcohol and laughter, and it’s one of the moments where Lucas realizes…he belongs. He takes shots with Patrick and Andy and dances with the cheerleaders, letting the heavy beats and the booze take over his mind. He’s earned the right to feel alive the way he did at the party. He’s been trying to survive and stay alive in the hellhole of the high school food chain for the longest time, anyway.

This is growing up and belonging and embracing the change, and Lucas will be damned if he doesn’t seize the opportunity to relish in it.

(His head hurts in the morning. Across town, so does Max’s. And somewhere in the sky, so does Mike’s. But for entirely different reasons unbeknownst to all of them.)

The thing about high school—the thing about growing up, is that it never gets easier. 

Then again, neither does constantly having to save the world. One would argue that it should get better over time, because hey, you’re literally used to the danger, that’s what superheroes do, and all the villains have more or less the same motives anyway. 

But they weren’t superheroes. They were just kids. Kids who had to grow up too fast, too soon. Kids who have faced dangers that one could only conjure in their scariest nightmares. Kids who have loved and lost more than what they ever bargained for.

Lucas holds Max’s frail, cold hand and brushes his thumb over the little freckles that scatter across it. He avoids looking at her face; at the blue veins that became more prominent over her cheeks and her chapped lips that form a pout from the brace that’s attached around her neck.

He can still hear the doctors’ whispers. It spreads like all the gossip from his mother’s book club. She may never wake up. We don’t know how to tell the boy to start letting her go. 

Fuck off, he seethes internally. I let her go once, and it was a mistake. A mistake I’m never going to make ever again. He squeezes her hand tighter as he focuses on the steady beat of the heart monitor. It’s become his lullaby these days. 

The peace is interrupted by the crackling of his SuperComm. “Lucas. Code red.” He picks it up reluctantly with his free hand, not really in the mood to face any dangers at the moment.

“What is it, Dustin?” Lucas asks groggily. 

“It’s Mike. H-he’s nowhere to be found.”

And he’s up in a hurry, running as fast as he can to the Wheelers’ house, sending a silent apology to Max for leaving so abruptly, because no. He can’t lose another one of his best friends.

When he reaches the basement, it’s utter chaos. Nancy is in hysterics, radioing El to please hurry up and find him, please! Dustin is radioing Mike himself, practically yelling answer me, you asshole! Jonathan, Mrs. Byers, and even Mrs. Wheeler (she’s in on the truth, anyway)  got a head start to look for him. And Will…

Will was dead silent. Staring into space, as if possessed. Lucas gently brushes his hand on Will’s shoulder, and the latter looks up in momentary alarm before falling back into his silent state.

“W-we’ll find him,” Lucas assures him shakily. Will says nothing.

Eventually, El informs them that she’s found Mike at Sattler Quarry. Lucas’ heart drops at the location. It’s a place that brings back bad memories for all of them. They all gather in Nancy’s car and immediately set out to go there.

The Mike he sees at Sattler Quarry is like…no other Mike he’s seen before.

Mrs. Byers is cradling him in her arms. His hair’s disheveled, as if he’d been tugging on it repeatedly. There are tear stains on his shirt and on his cheeks. He’s pale and terrified and won’t stop crying and Lucas has never seen Mike cry before, so it’s unsettling.

Will takes his mother’s place, bringing Mike’s face to his neck. It looks awkward, seeing as Mike is taller than Will, and the way he’s hunched over makes Lucas’ back hurt. But at the same time…it looks so tender. He realizes it’s a role reversal, because Lucas has seen Mike like this with Will before. And the way they’re clasping onto each other’s hand, not letting go as they settle in Mrs. Byers’ car…it’s like it’s so natural for them to do so.

The whole ordeal feels awfully intimate, like something Lucas shouldn’t see. 

They eventually convene back at the Wheeler basement, and mostly everyone leaves Mike alone. Everyone except Will, and in turn, Lucas and Dustin, too. 

Dustin is first to break the silence, whacking Mike’s arm. “What the hell is wrong with you, Mike?” Lucas sees Mike’s leg bouncing up and down and his chapped lips caught between his teeth. He looks anywhere but at any of their faces. 

Will glares at him. “Dustin, now isn’t the time!”

“No!” Dustin shouts, and Mike cringes. Lucas knows he should intervene, but he finds he can’t open his mouth. He’s too busy processing how angry Dustin is. “I don’t get it. I don’t know how you manage to find yourself there again. It’s not…I don’t find it fair for you to go back there! Not when—” he pauses, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Not when what, Dustin?” Will demands. His attitude is eerily similar to how Mike was all those years ago, when Will was possessed by the Mind Flayer.

“Not when he knows what he did the last time he was there,” Dustin seethes. Mike looks down in shame and picks at his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” Mike says, trembling. Will wraps a soothing arm around Mike and continues to glare at their best friend.

“Stop yelling at him,” Will warns. Dustin’s nostrils flare, but he ignores Will’s death stare.

“Does he even know?” Dustin asks, gesturing toward Will. “Does he know what happened at the quarry?” He glances toward Lucas. “Does anyone else in this room know, Mike?”

“No,” Mike replies, pained. 

“Know what?” Lucas finally speaks up. Mike whips his head toward him, eyes wide in panic and head shaking. 

“Please, Dustin, don’t—”

“It was when you were missing,” Dustin cuts Mike off, hands on his hips as he nods once to Will. His voice is steeled, as if whatever he was about to tell them was something…wrong. Bad news. “You were missing, Lucas was angry at us—but more at Mike—and El was gone. We were…we were biking around town looking for her when we came across Troy and James.”

Lucas doesn’t like where this is going. The way Will suddenly sits up, he doesn’t like it, either.

“I don’t know how it happened, but we stopped having our bikes. And they chased us down to the drop of Sattler Quarry. Th-they cornered us…and Troy got me.” Dustin’s voice breaks at that point, and his eyes close as if he’s vividly reliving the memory in his head. “H-he got me and h-held me by the neck with a knife.”

Nobody says a word. Lucas turns to Mike, who’s now picking at his fingers.

“And then…and then what happened?” Will asks, scared. Mike looks at him with a pleading look, but Will ignores him.

“He told Mike to jump,” Dustin sobs. Lucas registers the tears streaming down his best friend’s face. “Or else…or else he’d cut my fucking teeth off.”

“Did you jump?” Will addresses Mike. The other boy outright refuses to look at him. “Mike, please. D-did you…?” 

“I—”

“He did,” Dustin answers for him, and Mike looks up. He’s not…crying, per say. But he looks extremely apologetic. “He jumped without hesitation.” 

Will looks absolutely devastated. Lucas knows he himself feels the same.

“We were lucky El found us in time and saved us,” Dustin continues. “And he made us…he made us promise not to tell anyone about this.” He turns to Mike, betrayed. “I don’t fucking know why you did it, Mike. I told you my teeth weren’t worth losing your life over.”

“That was for me to decide,” Mike snarls. 

“And so going back there was also just for you to decide? After getting cursed by Vecna?” Dustin yells again, and there’s so much pain in his voice that Lucas feels his heart shatter. “If Mrs. Byers didn’t find you in time…if El didn’t tell us where you were in time, what the hell would you have done, Mike?”

Mike’s face is of pure anguish. He quickly pulls away from Will’s grip and storms out of the basement. Will is quick to follow, but Lucas stops him.

“Let me go, Lucas,” Will begs. 

“I’ll talk to him,” Lucas says hoarsely. He doesn’t allow Will to respond as he lets him go and goes up the basement stairs. Luckily, Mike didn’t go far, he was just up in his bedroom. Lucas doesn’t bother knocking and pushes the door open. 

He finds his best friend sitting curled up on his bed, looking at a framed painting on the wall. Lucas settles at the foot of the bed, and patiently waits for Mike to speak.

“You gonna yell at me, too?” Mike retorts, after a few seconds of silence. He’s still looking at the painting.

“I think Dustin did enough for the whole Party,” Lucas replies lightly. Mike hums, but doesn’t say anything else. After a few seconds, Lucas decides to speak up again. “Did Will paint that?”

“Yeah,” Mike says, and he sounds awfully fond. “It’s us in our D&D get-up. He’s gotten…he’s gotten really good at art.”

“He has,” Lucas agrees. He stares at his character and marvels at how detailed Will made everything. He glances at Mike’s character, eyes drifting toward a bright red heart with a crown. “Why’s there a heart on your shield?”

Mike bites his lip. “It’s ‘cause…it’s ‘cause he said I’m the heart. The um…” he hesitates. “The heart of our Party. That I…hold everyone together.” He huffs out a breath and then turns toward Lucas. “I don’t think it’s true, though.”

Lucas doesn’t know how to respond. Luckily, Mike beats him to it, eyes flitting down to his hands. “When Vecna got to me…he showed me you. You and Dustin and Max and El. Nancy and the rest of my family. The Byers. Will.” Mike is speaking so slowly, as if he doesn’t want to be sharing these thoughts out loud. 

It’s a vulnerable version of Mike, someone only Will has had the honor of seeing.

“He showed me really…nasty versions of all of you. I was on the ground, and you were all looking down on me with the most disgusted looks on your faces. There was my dad…and Hopper…calling me weak and pathetic.” His voice cracks at the end of the sentence, and it breaks Lucas to see his best friend like this.

“There was you and the rest of the Party. Saying I ruined everything with our friendships. S-saying I was a weak link and the worst friend ever—the worst person ever, and that no one would love me. Because I made you feel bad for wanting to try new things. Because I was cruel to Max when we first met. But mostly because of how I treated El and Will.”

Mike looks back to the painting, and sniffles. “One thing you know about me is that I hate lying. Friends don’t lie and all that stuff. But the truth is…I’ve been lying a lot, lately. To all of you. To El. To Will. And to myself. I was lying about…who I am. So how could I be the heart of the Party if I’m not honest, right?” He chuckles self-deprecatingly. 

“And…and what is the truth?” Lucas asks gently. Mike turns toward him, throat bobbing nervously. He chews on his lip before taking a deep breath.

“The truth is that…I-I’m not straight, Lucas.”

Oh . 

He still doesn’t know what to say. But apparently, Mike isn’t finished talking. “The first time I was at the drop at Sattler Quarry, I was…fucking scared to jump. But all I could think about was protecting Dustin. And how…dying at that point wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Because I would die protecting one of my best friends. Because dying meant being with Will…wherever he was, y’know, since we thought he was dead. Because I wanted to be with Will.”

Mike looks at him straight in the eye then. “I want to be with Will, Lucas. I-I’m in love with Will. And that's why I was at the edge of the drop. Because a part of me thinks that...people like-like me don't deserve that type of love.”

Oh.

Lucas finds himself surprised at how…calm he is. Because right then and there, everything started to come together. Things like why there was something…weird about Mike and El’s romantic relationship. Things like why Mike was generally different with Will than the rest of the group: apologizing first even in the dangerous pouring rain, protecting him first before anyone else (even his own self), having his drawings plastered all over his walls. Never giving up on him. Being there for him, first and foremost.

Mike being in love with Will just made perfect sense. 

(Even made more perfect when it hits Lucas: Will is most likely just as in love with Mike, too. He knows it by the stares Will has sent Mike his way when he thinks no one’s looking. He knows it by how Will looks for Mike first, and trusts him the most. He knows it by how Will had protected Mike earlier when Dustin yelled. 

He knows, because it’s fucking Mike and Will. There was always something special between them.)

“I understand if you think I’m weird or if you hate me now,” Mike says, and it hurts how small he’s making himself with his voice and his posture and his words. “But you…you deserve to know the truth. And you also deserve to know how sorry I am. For being the world’s biggest douche.”

It hits Lucas then, how horrible it must’ve been for Mike to keep this all in. He realizes Mike was dealing with his problems the way Max was; so scared to open up, so in turn they keep to themselves. 

He feels terrible, knowing he could’ve done something about it. He should’ve noticed it.

“I think I agree with Will,” Lucas states. It’s obviously not what Mike expects to hear, the way his eyebrows furrow in confusion. “You…you are the heart of the Party, Mike. Because your stubborn ass rounds us up in times of trouble. Because you’re protective as hell. Because you’re being honest with me now, even if it's probably hard for you.” He’s breathless, the way Mike just trusted him with something huge. “Fuck, Mike, did you really think I’d hate you for this?”

Mike shrugs. “I think you should hate me for a lot of things.”

Lucas rolls his eyes. Stubborn asshole. “If you’re thinking about our whole issue about the basketball thing, it’s way behind me now. I accept your apology. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry, too, okay? I should’ve looked out for you and Dustin more. I was so…focused on trying to fit in that I kind of forgot about you guys. My true best friends.”

“We’re still…we’re still best friends?” Mike asks. He sounds so full of hope that it hurts.

“Of course we are,” Lucas chokes, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. “You’re never gonna stop being my best friend, Wheeler. I don’t care if you’re a douche or if you’re not straight. You being my best friend—my brother, is never going to change.” 

Mike opens out his arms, and Lucas scoots over to hug him tight. He feels Mike’s lanky arms wrap around his shoulders, and god, it never occurred to Lucas how badly he needed a hug. How badly Mike probably needed a hug, too.

They pull away, puffy eyed. “I hope you know that you do deserve that type of love," Lucas continues. "I also hope you know how…alarming your ordeal with the quarry is. And I hope you decide to get help. Talk to people. Talk to me, anytime you feel the need to, if you feel you have no one else to turn to. I lost Max, and…I’m not ready to lose you, too.” Mike nods and grips onto Lucas’ shoulders tightly.

“I will,” Mike promises, and suddenly, everything feels okay. 

They sit in what feels like the first relatively calm, peaceful silence in forever. Lucas eyes the painting once more, specifically on the big red heart on Mike’s shield.

It was so goddamn obvious how whipped they were for each other. He wonders how he was so blind to it all . 

“So…I’m guessing you don’t need my relationship advice anymore, huh? You seem to have Will down to a tee,” Lucas smirks. He figures it’s time for some lightheartedness after that hurricane of intense emotion.

Mike glares at him playfully, turning as red as a tomato. “Shut the fuck up, Lucas.”

No way he was going to. He’s been the first ever third wheel of his idiot best friends. “Michael and William sitting in a tree—”

“You’re insufferable.”

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

Despite his annoyance, Mike laughs. And it’s one of the best things Lucas has heard in a long time.

Once upon a time, established fully in the fourth grade, it was Lucas and Dustin and Mike and Will: four freaks—no, four best friends against the world and all its cruelty. And after the events of spring break in freshman year, they all come to realize just how much has changed. 

Like how their world started out in a dingy basement in a small town and soon became a literal hell.   Like how two girls wormed their way into their group in full force, strong and fierce and all the while graceful doing so. Like how they all went from nerds to alleged members of a Satanic cult to primary targets of an interdimensional psychopath.

Like how somewhere along that line of craziness, two out of four of said best friends became something more. 

Lucas realizes this on a fine Friday afternoon, mere days after everything Upside Down related is done for good. He pushes Max’s wheelchair beside his seat and brings her one of the couch’s throw pillows. “For you, milady,” he says as he holds out the pillow for Max to feel out.

“Dork,” Max mumbles. Lucas chooses not to tell her that her face is as red as her hair, and instead kisses her forehead.

The Party was preparing for the first campaign of the season, courtesy of Mike’s improved writing skills from the creative writing club he had recently joined. “A good way for me to become a better DM,” was his excuse, although Lucas knew it was also because his therapist recommended it for him.

El turns up beside Max with her basket of nail polish. “I’m painting your nails blue this time,” she decides. “It looks good with your outfit. And I’ve been meaning to try this bottle out, because it has glitter!” Max laughs and holds out her hands for El to paint on, and Lucas’ heart warms with how at ease his girlfriend and girl-best-friend look.

Across the table, Dustin whines. “Come on, El, the whole basement’s gonna smell like nail polish! It’s dizzying.” 

“You’re just weak, Dustin,” Max jeers. The curly-haired boy rolls his eyes as he fixes up a bowl of Doritos. “And I’d rather it smell like polish than Mike’s dirty socks.”

They all wait for a retort from Mike, but it never comes. Lucas turns to find Mike and Will hunched together at the other end of the table, going through notes, giggling to each other, hands clasped on the surface for the world to see. Stuck in their own little bubble.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Max yells, snapping the other two out of it. “Me being blind doesn’t stop me from seeing that you two are being disgusting.” God, Lucas loves her.

“You and Lucas aren’t any better,” Mike argues. He moves away from Will, although he doesn’t let go of his hand. Lucas leans toward Will with a smirk. “We are better than you both.”

Will swats him. “I beg to differ. Mike and I are both attractive—” Mike flushes at the compliment. “Between you and Max, it’s only Max who’s good-looking.”

El, Dustin, and Max cackle as Lucas sputters indignantly. Will Byers has become more of a menace ever since he started dating Mike Wheeler.

Before he can let out an epic comeback, Mike bangs his fist on the table. “Easy, Sinclair, or I might just do something bad to you in the campaign.” Will giggles, as if he knows exactly what’s in store for Lucas.

Lucas grumbles. He was happy for his best friends, really. It doesn’t mean he won’t stop thinking about throttling them.

“Ready to start?” Mike asks as the laughter dies down. The air becomes thick with excitement.

“Show us what you got, Wheeler,” Dustin smirks, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. Mike begins his opening speech, and everyone falls into place.

Lucas glances at his first best friends, hands still holding each other. It’s as dizzying as the smell of El’s nail polish, how Mike and Will’s romance is a big change…and yet somehow, they’re the same annoying duo they always were.

(Well…mostly the same. The only real difference is that they kiss and have somehow become more goddamn clingy.)

He looks around and thinks about how goddamn lucky he is that he and his best friends survived everything. Growing up. Embracing the change. Falling in love and being true to themselves.

They all made it out alive. As one team. As one Party. And for Lucas, that’s all that really matters.