Chapter Text
El turned from the open field, a crumbling flower falling from her hand. A long moment passed as she stared at it. Electricity from the storm in the distance radiated in the heavy air, eerie red light cracking into webs across the dark clouds. Will’s neck prickled, fine hairs at his nape standing on end. Vecna’s presence loomed in the back of his mind, but with the spores on the cold air and the creeping decay choking out all life before them, it was like the Upside Down was leaking out of his memories and into the present, all around him. A bolt of lightning reached toward Hawkins, and a ripple traveled up his spine.
“We need to attack while he’s still weak,” El said to the six behind her. Her face was drawn, tense. “We need to find him.” Her shoulders hunched around her collarbones like a shield as she headed back to the treeline. Will watched uneasily as she disappeared into the forest. She had been distant since the pizza place- not cold, at least not to him, but it was like a part of her was permanently stuck somewhere else. Joyce squeezed Hopper’s forearm before turning to follow her, and Hopper strode forward into the decay. He was probably going to get a better look at what had happened–the news was reporting it as an earthquake, but based on the helicopters flying through the storm, the government had more information than they were allowing the public.
Will glanced up at Mike beside him, and his stomach flipped. Mike was facing him, his eyes focused intently somewhere near the collar of his shirt. His bottom lip jutted out just the tiniest bit the way it did when he was thinking. Mike was only a little taller than him now, which meant that their faces were sometimes closer together when they stood next to each other than Will was used to. Will peered at him, and his eyes snapped to Will’s. Mike ducked and rubbed the back of his head, his feet shifting distractedly.
“What’s up?” Will asked. They turned at the same time to trail behind Joyce, and now Jonathan and Nancy, back through the woods to the cabin.
Mike rubbed the side of his neck thoughtfully. “When you feel Vecna,” he started, “where exactly do you feel him? Is it a physical feeling?”
Will tipped his chin up. Spiny branches created patterns in the gray-blue sky overhead. “Kind of…” he said. “It's like a sensation. And like…I don’t know, like I can feel what he’s feeling, but it’s like it’s through glass or something. Like I feel his presence.”
“Right here?” Mike touched the back of Will’s neck lightly, and his fingers left goosebumps on his skin in the cool spring air. They both paused in a weedy clearing gaurded by tall trees. Will’s pulse had jumped, but he kept his expression carefully neutral.
Sunlight slotted through the leaves, dappling Mike’s sharp features. An inscrutable expression passed over his face and the small muscles near the hollow of his throat tensed briefly. “You touch your neck there, when he’s close or he’s done something big,” he said. “And you had goosebumps, earlier.” His gaze trailed off, following his thoughts. “So it’s a physical connection, right? Like, an energy?”
“It’s more like that, yeah…Like static, almost. Why? Do you think that matters?”
Mike’s lips twitched to the side. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But it seems…weird that you’ve been connected to Vecna since you were possessed. It doesn’t make sense…That day when I- when we found you outside of the school, it was like you were there and in the Upside-Down at the same time, but…we couldn’t see what was really happening to you.”
Will shivered involuntarily, remembering. Mike’s eyes checked up and down Will’s body once, quickly, like he was looking for any additional multidimensional horrors that had somehow attached to him from behind a tree or something. From anyone else, this might have irritated Will, but with Mike it felt natural. Good. Mike often noticed when something was bothering him, anyway, and something was. California had been a reprieve from the constant presence of the predator at the back of his neck.
He regarded Mike tentatively. “I…I asked it to go away,” Will said softly. “Right before it possessed me.” He had never spoken about that part of it before. After everything at the hospital, he didn’t want to make it seem like it had been Bob’s fault for telling him that story about standing his ground.
“You- you asked the Mind Flayer to go away?”
“Well…I screamed at it, actually,” Will chuckled weakly at Mike’s expression- his eyebrows had shot up into his bangs and his mouth was open.
“You screamed at it?”
Will blushed. “Yeah,” he shrugged. “It’s kind of embarrassing, I mean- It obviously didn’t help…actually I think I could have kept avoiding it if I hadn’t done that. If I’d just kept running, and hiding. And if you’d kept finding me,” he added.
Mike lowered his head. “Of course I would’ve kept finding you.” Will looked away, heat creeping up his neck. Mike had brought him back from his episodes on multiple occasions, but he felt suddenly awkward bringing this up. It made him feel special, when really he’d just been in the most immediate danger. He knew Mike would have done that for any of his friends. Mike’s words from a few days ago floated automatically to his mind–I feel like my life started that day…The memory sat like lead in his sternum.
Will passed a hand over his brow, trying to clear his thoughts. “Sure, yeah. Um. We should get back…El seemed really upset.”
Mike loped after Will, feeling like he had missed something. He had probably said the wrong thing, or failed to say the right thing, but usually when it came to Will he understood which one it was. They walked together in silence until the cabin came into view. Jonathan and Nancy were sitting on the porch talking to El. Argyle was in the corner surveying an array of vegetation he’d organized into little piles: mushrooms, white flowers, several kinds of herbs.
El held a steaming mug in both hands. Will sat down next to her on the wooden floor with one knee up. They shared a look, and she nodded slightly like he had asked her a question. Mike leaned against a beam at the bottom of the steps feeling ganglier than usual, arms crossed, and attempted to rearrange his face into a more pleasant–or at least more neutral–expression. El murmured something to Will that seemed to capture his full attention. She had barely acknowledged Mike, but he figured she was worried about Max. She’d been like that ever since her fight with Vecna. The way she and Will related so effortlessly stirred a tarry feeling in his guts that had first collected when they’d reunited in the desert. He scuffed at the dirt near his sneakers, forming it into a little hill.
Joyce emerged from the cabin with two more mugs in her hands. “Hi, sweethearts,” she said when she noticed Mike and Will. “There’s still some hot water,” she gestured behind her, causing tea to splash onto the porch.
“I’m okay, thanks mom,” Will said.
Mike shook his head. “Thanks.”
“I was thinking,” Nancy said, cautiously accepting a mug from Joyce. “There isn’t much room here, and the five of you would be pretty crowded all staying here. Do you–do you have a place in mind, to stay?”
Joyce shrugged, grimacing. “Maybe we could get a hotel for a couple of nights, but El and Hopper at least need to stay here, lay low as much as they can.”
“I’m sure our parents wouldn’t mind if you stayed with us- we have the basement, and we can double up on our rooms.” She and Joyce discussed the logistics, and in the end decided that Joyce would stay with Hopper and El at the cabin, and Argyle could stay at the Wheeler’s until- if ever, it wasn’t entirely clear- he needed to go back to Lenora. Mike wondered whether he would need to call his parents at some point. Jonathan volunteered to stay in the basement with him, although that was almost certainly a cover for the fact that he would be sleeping in Nancy’s room. Will considered the cabin’s couch, but eventually accepted an extra mattress that could be pulled into Mike’s room. That was comforting–with everything going on, he felt better with Will close by. Just in case anything happened. Plus, the Wheeler house had enough extra food, clothes, blankets, and stuff in general to make do with the extra guests.
While this was being discussed, Mike’s thoughts wandered to what Will had told him about Vecna’s plans. El could obviously feel his presence too. He was sure there was something to that, to the way that Will’s connection to the Upside Down got stronger with proximity, the way he felt it physically. But the gears in Mike’s brain seemed unable to turn any further–it felt like his brain was submerged in molasses. He needed real sleep, and a shower. His skin was sticky, even though the air was cool, and he was sure that his hair was a nest of greasy tangles and dust, and now the maybe-toxic debris falling from the sky. He was relieved when Jonathan suggested they all go home to clean up and eat.
“Let’s meet back here tomorrow afternoon,” Joyce said, hugging Jonathan tightly. She held Will for an extra moment. “Be safe, and call me if you need anything at all okay? If you don't tell me, Jonathan or Nancy will.” She looked pointedly at Nancy, who dipped her chin in acknowledgement.
Mike caught Will’s eye- he looked irritated at the recruitment of their siblings as babysitters, but he took it good-naturedly. Joyce seemed even more reluctant than usual to part with her sons after so much time away already, but after they both assured her they were okay, she relented. El hugged Mike goodbye lightly, and Mike watched as she and Nancy hugged and exchanged a steely look that probably had something to do with Max. Finally, the five of them who were headed to the Wheeler’s piled into the van.
Argyle pulled the pizza van in front of the Wheeler’s house, where it stuck out like a gold tooth among the beige sedans lining the neighborhood’s driveways. He cut the ignition. Mike, Will, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle crowded into the foyer, where Mrs. Wheeler exchanged greetings and reassurances that No please, it’s no trouble at all and we have leftovers and snacks if anyone gets hungry and I’ll just let you get settled in, I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything. Joyce had called her to hastily request some help boarding everyone, and Karen had assented to hosting the Byers boys plus one as-yet unfamiliar kid. She smiled uncertainly at Argyle when he complimented her home (righteous digs, mama wheeler), but thanked him, and generally seemed pleased at the onslaught of teenaged guests.
Mike waited until Will had finished thanking her before leading the way upstairs to his room. Mike stood awkwardly on his carpet, wishing he had cleaned up a little. El’s letter inaccurately detailing life in Lenora was probably still crumpled up on the floor somewhere.
“I um, I’ll get the extra mattress so you don’t have to sleep on the floor,” Mike said scratching the side of his cheek. “If you want to stay in my room, I mean- you could sleep in the living room, if you want. Like if you want your space I um, I totally get it, but I don’t- I don’t mind sharing…” he trailed off somewhat weakly and dropped onto his bed. Jesus, his room was so small and messy.
Will had shrugged his backpack off his shoulders and now grasped the handle so that it hovered above the floor. “I…I don’t mind. Whatever you prefer,” he said. “I guess there’s not as much space in here as there was when we were seven.” The corner of his mouth turned up, but his eyes remained on Mike, expectant. He was right– his shoulders bumped against the dresser. He’d been broader and taller in Lenora too, but in Mike’s room where he’d been a hundred times before, the difference was even more obvious. Still, it would be really weird if he slept in the living room. Mike wasn’t sure why he’d suggested it.
Mike swallowed and met Will’s eyes. “Stay up here, and if you hate it or I snore, you can share the living room with my Dad,” he joked.
“Okay, deal.” Will’s smile cracked open his lips, uncertainty vanishing from his face. He crossed the remaining space and dropped his backpack onto the floor at the foot of the bed. He examined the wall above it, his head tilted back a little so that shadows skirted his jaw. Mike fidgeted with his sleeves, following Will’s eyeline.
“This is cool,” Will said, looking at a print hung up near the closet. “Your room is so different than it was before we left.” His voice was quiet, the way it sounded when he was speaking more to observe than to be heard.
“Yeah, thanks, I actually got that at the record store on Oak,” Mike said. “They were giving away some art and stuff for free.” He watched Will’s eyes roam the walls, alighting on the corkboard on the other side of his bed with two of his own drawings pinned to it. Color rose into Mike’s cheeks. “You still have those,” Will said. “Oh–yeah.” Mike tensed. He realized that more pages of Will’s art were in the D&D binder sticking out from under his bed. He surreptitiously pushed the binder further out of eyesight with the back of his heel.
There was a knock on the half-closed door as it pushed open. “Hi, boys,” Karen smiled from the doorway. “Will, I brought you some towels and sheets and everything, and I grabbed you a spare toothbrush in case you didn’t have a chance to grab one.”
“Oh–that’s so nice of you, thank you.” Will accepted the small pile from Mrs. Wheeler.
“Of course. It’s so good having you here again.” She smiled. She had always had a soft spot for Will.
“You know where everything is, but just let me know if there’s anything you need,” she said, stepping out of the doorway.
“Thanks, I will.” Then, to Mike: “I do feel pretty gross.”
“Me too,” Mike wrinkled his nose. “You wanna shower first?”
“Sure, I’ll be pretty quick. Do you mind if I use your soap? I didn’t think to pack any.”
“No–sure. It’s uh, the one that doesn’t look like it could be Nancy’s.”
“Cool,” Will said, pulling a change of clothes out of his backpack. While Will was in the shower, Mike enlisted Nancy’s help pulling the spare mattress from its space wedged under the basement stairs and dumping it next to his bed. He covered it with the set of sheets, and dropped an extra pillow from the hall closet on top. Then he loitered in his room until he heard the water turn off, not wanting to be there waiting when Will came in.
He went downstairs and hunted in the refrigerator for a soda, then sipped at it until he heard the bathroom door open. The sound of the evening news drifted in from the living room, and he listened to it until the segment came to an end. He grabbed another soda and took it upstairs. Will was sitting on the mattress, rummaging through his backpack. Mike wordlessly handed him the sweating can and scooped up his pile of pajamas.
“Hey, thanks for setting this up,” Will said, glancing at Mike.
“No problem, yeah.” Mike took another gulp of his soda and set it on his dresser. “Um, see you in a sec.”
Mike stood under the hot water for at least ten minutes longer than he needed to, hoping the wiry little muscles in his shoulders would relax. His whole body felt lighter without the layers of sweat and dust that had built up over the past few days in the van, like he was absorbing more oxygen into his blood through his scrubbed skin. It was also the most privacy he’d had in days.
When he finally turned the water off, the whole bathroom was filled with steam and his bare feet dripped on the rug. He used a hand towel to clear a circle on the fogged mirror. He hated the way his wet black hair stuck to his forehead and the sides of his neck. He looked like a drowned whippet. He stepped back from the bathroom mirror, flipped his head upside down and rubbed a dry towel into his scalp aggressively. Then he combed through the whole mess and toweled his hair off a second time. It was still messy, but at least it wasn’t sopping wet.
He put his pajamas on and brushed his teeth without looking in the mirror again. Something was bothering him. Will walking away from him in the forest, and the uncomfortable distance between them in his room. He knew he’d fucked things up over the summer, but it was like his own medicine was his retribution–now Will was more distant from him. Again. He didn’t know why. He didn’t know how to be both, how to be El’s boyfriend and Will’s best friend and not fail at one of them.
He’d had to focus on dating El. He’d put effort into it. He’d wondered if dating was like that for everyone and his friends had just gotten the hang of it earlier, like it was a skill to be learned. Maybe that was just how people acted, lovesick, until they got older and it wasn’t like that any more. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Karen and Ted share physical space closer than their chairs at the dinner table, let alone be affectionate.
But the way that Lucas and Dustin talked about their girlfriends, the physical stuff was like some kind of really good shared secret. El seemed to know it too–the secret. So he had tried to act the same as her to mimic her enthusiasm. But when she held his hand and pressed her shoulder into his arm, he felt nothing. When they made out, it felt nice–she was meticulous with her dental hygiene, but it was also frustrating in a way that it didn’t seem to be for others. It wasn’t like he didn’t feel the same heated things that his friends did, the same teenagery, painfully strong impulses–it was just that El’s body didn’t seem to hold the answers. He figured he just needed to work harder at it. He just needed to get used to it.
And he had been sure that kissing El would fix the other feelings that he knew, he just knew were not normal…but it had the opposite effect: it was like once he knew the way that lips and mouths felt pressed together, he could so easily imagine kissing someone else. Vague, inexperienced horniness was replaced with specific sensations. He wanted more. He just didn’t want more from El. He didn’t think about–well, anyone, but especially not Will that way either–he made sure not to. The way his body responded to Will's proximity–at the movies when their hands touched, or standing close to each other, or Will looking up at him with his long eyelashes–that was nothing. It was fine. It was just raging hormones. Dustin and Lucas had joked once about how the painting of a mountain range in the Henderson’s living room was provocative. If geological formations could be tantalizing, anything could.
He’d had to at least try–it was eating into parts of his life he couldn’t ignore, growing like a fungus. It was warping his ability to be with his best friend. Will had always been different, for him, but almost losing him twice had messed him up in a way that was almost violent. What he couldn’t face grew in the dark. Not possible. It welled up in him. He couldn’t lose Will because of it.
When El kissed him, he’d known that something was off in a way that could never be fixed, in a way that meant he wasn’t just not trying hard enough. He had been looking at it like a hurdle he could overcome, but he realized that he was deluding himself. Biking away from Will’s house, he felt like he’d lost something bigger than his friends moving away–something that could drown him.
By the time he’d gone to California, he’d convinced himself that it would all be different and that he just missed his friend and his brain had crossed wires and he just really, really needed to act normal. At first he suspected he’d failed pretty spectacularly, but it had gotten easier. It was Will, and it was easy to be around him, and he’d somehow let the Other Feelings overshadow that, but he wasn’t going to let them anymore. They’d been close again.
So…he didn’t know what was off between them now. Maybe it had nothing to do with him–maybe it was being back in Hawkins, or one of the million other things that might be bothering Will.
He knocked lightly on the door to his room before pushing it open. Will was sitting on the mattress on the floor, sketching in a spiral-bound notebook propped on his knees. He glanced up at Mike, amused. “You’re knocking before coming into your own room now?”
Mike smirked. “I didn’t wanna startle you,” he said. He lowered himself on the mattress next to Will, their knees brushing, and peered at his notebook.
“What’re you drawing?” Will smelled like laundry and soap and something that was almost sweet, like when you crushed open an almond, only it was just the scent of his skin. He was biting down on his lip with his two front teeth in that way that made a buoyancy bubble up from Mike’s abdomen.
“Just kind of…impressions, from the past couple of days. It helps me get my thoughts out,” Will said. He tilted the page he was working on so that Mike could see it. Mike felt Will’s gaze on him, watching him look at his work.
Will had sketched six different scenes across two pages, each in their own box like a comic book: the pizza van barreling across the open road, the desert and brush rolling out on either side. He’d drawn Jonathan rubbing his eyes at the wheel, El looking up at a road sign at a gas station in the middle of nowhere, the Unknown Hero Secret Agent Man’s grave surrounded by abandoned cars, Suzie’s house with–Mike snickered–Falkor in the sky overhead…Mike in a t-shirt and black jeans staking a shovel into the ground. Mike ran his fingers over the lines of each panel. Will had always been talented artistically, but he had gotten even better over the past few months. His style was more distinctive.
“Wow,” he breathed. “These are really cool. Did you do these just now?”
“Thanks,” Will said. “Not all of them, I started a couple while we were on the road, when I couldn’t sleep.”
Mike hummed in understanding–they hadn’t slept much on the hard floor of the van without pillows or blankets. They’d stopped over at motels a couple of times, but they hadn’t had the money to rent more than one room. He leaned back a little as Will closed the sketchbook and set it on the carpet. Will’s damp hair fell across his eyes.
It was impossible not to focus completely on Will when it was just them. It felt different being alone with Will than being around him with other people. More natural. It was some quality that Will possessed. He studied Will’s profile.
“Have you…are you okay? It kind of seems like something’s up. I mean obviously something’s up, with everything, but….” He bit down on the inside of his cheek.
Will looked at him for a long moment, his lips apart like he’d thought better of saying something. There was a little half-moon of shadow in the dip above his upper lip. “It’s…just everything,” he said finally. “I’m worried about what’s going to happen next. About Max, and El.” He searched Mike’s face. “What about you?”
Mike rested his chin on the back of his hands. “I’m worried too, about everything. It’s surreal that a week ago I was packing for California and mad at Lucas for missing D&D for his basketball game, and now Hawkins is basically an open wound.”
“Yeah…my biggest concern before was probably El getting bullied. That plus missing everyone,” Will said. Mike nodded. “What was everything like, for you, a week ago? And before that.” Will’s clear eyes landed on his. “You haven’t told me very much.”
Mike’s throat tightened. “Horrible,” he started.