Chapter Text
“What are you still doing here?” Ms. Byers asked from the kitchen as Will exited his bedroom to go watch the television. “Why don’t you have your costume on?”
“What?” Will pretended to not know what she was talking about, or what the date was (heaven forbid someone say the word ‘date’ in front of him now, anyway), or that he had plans, or that he might have lost his best friend, or—
“You’ve never not had a costume,” Ms. Byers ran over to Will, putting her hands on his shoulder as her slippers clip-clapped on the hardwood floor. “Are you okay? Do you have a fever?”
“No Mom—” Will struggled a bit as his mom put her hand on his forehead. She was always so paranoid. “Remember, no touching, and I’m fine, I’m just too old to go trick-or-treating now.”
“Sorry, no touch.” Ms. Byers walked back, taking her hands off of his shoulders.
(The ‘no touch’ was something that Will had just discussed with family since he seemed to always be so sensitive to being touched, especially by other people, all the time. Jonathan got it right away, and though Ms. Byers was very confused, she agreed.)
“Still, you’re not going to dress up? Go to a party or something? Isn’t this the ‘best day of the year’?”
“I’m just not feeling it this year,” Will walked past his mom with a sigh and plopped himself on the couch. “I just want to stay home.”
“Are you sure everything’s okay?” Ms. Byers still stood, giving Will a concerned look, trying to read him.
Ignoring his mom, Will checked his watch. His black, plastic calculator one that he had gotten to be matching with Mike in elementary school. One that kids called him a nerd for, or teased him for (kids were running really dry on insults for those couple of weeks). When that happened, Mike would stand up and tell them to knock it off (and if Mike was feeling extra silly, he’d even add a ‘scram!’ at the end of the little speech he gave to the mean kids. This would always make the both of them laugh). Will was eternally grateful.
But now he was in high school. Not to say there aren’t bullies and mean kids in high school, but the majority of the student population could not give less of a shit about you. So eventually the teasing stopped. And Mike didn’t have to make his Mean Kid Speech as often. It was almost frightening ( oh god oh god they don’t care about me anymore, am I even a person anymore, will I stay invisible forever? And if the bullies stop caring about me, does that mean Lucas will too? Or Dustin? And then eventually Mike will leave me and I’ll be alone forever? ).
Mike. Mike Mike. Mike Mike Mike.
Back into focus, Will read the time. It was a quarter to six. His, now put in question, plans with Mike were scheduled for seven. Mike would show up at his house, and they’d spend some time hanging out, chatting by themselves. At nine they would leave to attend some senior’s party and meet Lucas. (Unfortunately, Dustin wasn’t going to make it, as he was taking Erica out trick-or-treating. Will couldn’t tell if he genuinely wanted to make sure Erica was safe, since she is very very capable of looking after herself, or if Dustin wanted to use this as an opportunity to go trick-or-treating as a sophomore without it looking weird. Probably the latter.)
Mike and Will had picked out matching costumes, too. Ms. Byers and he had spent hours sprucing up his old Will the Wise cloak, making it look straight out of a fantasy comic, or even a movie. It was that good. Will was beyond proud of it.
He knew Mike was going as his paladin character, but Will had yet to see the costume. Mike was so secretive. It was always, ‘Oh, I haven’t even started yet, so there’s nothing to see’ accompanied by a nervous laugh, or ‘I’m waiting till I at least finish the chest piece,’ or ‘It’s just scraps of cardboard right now!’ But Will knew, he could see it in Mike’s facial expressions and mannerisms, that his costume had been done a long, long time ago. And nothing made Will more excited.
But now Will just sat sadly on the couch as the sun set, pining for Mike to come over or for at least some sort of communication between the two of them. Will considered going to the phone and calling the Wheelers, but decided it might be a little weird, especially if Mike picked up, and even more weird if Karen or Ted picked up (‘hi, Mrs./Mr. Wheeler, is Mike still coming over for Halloween? No—please don’t put him on the phone’). His watch went from 6:45 to 6:50 to 6:55 to 7:00. Will turned his head so that he could see the front door, hoping that a knocking sound would come soon—or, even better, the sound of his bedroom window sliding open as Mike snuck his way in as he sometimes did.
( “I have to tell you something,” Will said, trembling. “And I’m sorry if this is like, weird, but, I just…” )
7:05. He could be five minutes late, right? That surely doesn’t mean he’s not coming.
( “What is it?” Mike saw Will’s hands shaking, going to hold them together in his own, “touch?” He said, asking for permission. )
7:15. Maybe kids were already flooding the streets and making it hard for Mike to bike here. Or maybe his mom wanted pictures of his paladin outfit.
( “I’m not sure if you would want to touch me anymore,” tears were spilling from Will’s eyes as he moved his hands closer to his chest. He pushed himself against the bricks of the Palace Arcade’s exterior, “but I can’t just, not tell you, it’s unfair to you and it’s hurting me.” )
7:30.
( Mike’s brow furrowed. “Will, I promise, whatever it is, it’s fine. We’re practically like, blood-bonded at this point. Just tell me. You can tell me anything.” Mike waited as he watched Will cry. It was starting to make him emotional, too. “Hey,” he tried to comfort him again, “crazy together, right?” )
He wanted to throw up.
Will got up and went to his room, ignoring Ms. Byers when she asked if everything was okay once again, and closed the door quickly but silently. He flopped down on his bed, making sure not to lay on his cleric outfit, tears already streaming down his eyes as he tried not to think about it. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly, maybe it was his confession, or his plans that were falling through, or maybe it was just everything. Maybe he just never wanted to think at all, never ever again.
( Mike looked… Will expected some sort of reaction, an immediate ‘no’ or in his wildest dreams, a ‘yes I feel the exact same way do you want to kiss right now’. But instead, Mike was silent. And Mike was never silent. )
Will couldn’t even find the strength to lift his head from being smushed into blankets so he could breathe fresh, cold air. He laid still as his tears soaked into his blankets and it became harder for him to breathe. He realized he’d surely pass out if he stayed like this, but he didn’t care. The ends of his legs still dangled from the end of the bed as he lay there, almost as if he were dead. They started to feel like static.
( Will couldn’t read him. It scared Will even more than coming out and confessing itself. The tears suddenly stopped falling from his face as he went from anxious to fully panicking. )
His eyes closed. As he drifted off, he realized he was losing control of his body, and his head flipped to the side. He wanted to move it back again, to suffocate there in silence, but sleep had already gotten too tight of a hold on him. He was helpless. And then he was there again.
—
It was before he confessed—he could tell because Mike still had a goofy smile on his face, and he was asking words at Will, but he couldn’t hear anything he was saying. After a while, the smile faded as Mike got concerned.
The sky was cold and gray. Will looked at the clouds hoping for a rainstorm. If it started raining now, he’d have his perfect chance to leave. They could go back inside and forget that this had ever happened in the first place. And then before he knew it, before he could stop himself from fucking up his life, he started speaking, returning the blank words back to Mike. Mike froze.
Will moved from crossing his arms to wrapping them around his legs. He felt a raindrop on his scalp—if only that rainstorm had happened minutes sooner. Will wanted to scream.
They just sat like that for what felt like hours, Will was sure that inside the dream it actually did stay like that for hours, before Mike got up without making eye contact with Will, almost running around the corner. The rain started to pour down. And then Will was alone.
God, he was alone.