Chapter Text
The room is dark, empty, and hasn't seen much use in centuries. The deity hums, eyes moving over the space. Snapping his fingers, the lights come on, highlighting the old seats. A frown settles on his face, a little mutter of that won't do, and the seats are replaced with beanbags and newer chairs, all comfortable. Looking over, the screen in the front of the room had been updated as well, and there are two doors to each side, one labeled bedrooms and the other kitchen.
The deity nods to himself, pleased. There's only one thing left to do.
HAWKINS, INDIANA; APRIL 04, 1986.
Letting his confusion show, Mike stares at the notebook in front of him. On the top of the page, the header reads: CAMPAIGN IDEAS in all caps and taking up the large space with big letters. Beneath it, there is nothing, since he can barely think. Well, that wasn't quite true. He can and is thinking about Will.
The one thing - the one person he's trying to avoid thinking about because the fluttering in his chest isn't normal. Mike's attachment to Will is freakish, unnatural, and wrong in so many ways, and letting himself partake in indulging these feelings? Absolutely not. Mike doesn't, can't like Will Byers. He can't like boys, he has to like girls, has to be normal about something in his Goddamn life.
Brushing hair out of his his face, he sighs heavily. With how everything has gone, he wants to get back to normal as soon as possible, but it seems like that's just not in the cards for a fuck-up like Michael Nathan Wheeler. Shocking. It's not like anything's ever been normal when it comes to him. After all, he gets too much, too attached, too emotional so much that his parents barely care to know what he's doing or what he's actually like or even what he's interested in beyond that "devil game" that they've talked to him about. Not that he's played it since Vecna's defeat a few days ago, or even since coming back from California.
There's always an intensity to everything he does - even thinking about Will doesn't change this irrefutable fact considering when the other boy is just standing there, Mike can only feel the urge to stare, to commit everything to memory just in case.
So, yeah... Mike and normal have never gone together, so it's a lost cause to even attempt.
Mike sighs, closing the notebook and pushing it away, placing the pencil on top and leaning away from the desk. His hands fiddle with each other, fingers twisting as his eyes focus on the blue cover of the notebook, thinking. Not that he needs to think any more than he does. His thoughts already run in circles around each other, jumping from subject to subject, self-hatred to D&D to school to his friends. It's like a never-ending run-on sentence. He threads his fingers together, his hands falling into his lap. His eyes move to his nightstand, where one of many walkies sits, and he thinks about calling out.
Just a few words. Maybe someone else is as bored as I am?
Mike stands up, stretching, and wincing as his body pops before he walks over, taking the device in hand. Before he can press down, he blinks, and suddenly he's not even in his room anymore, and the item is gone. Letting his eyes scan his surroundings, he blinks and more people are there. Blink, more. Again.
It's just... all of The Party?
It devolves quickly, everyone talking over each other, even the adults. Mike meets eyes with the aforementioned boy, who quirks an eyebrow, seemingly also exasperated and surprised in equal measures.
You too?
Yeah. Help me get their attention?
Sure.
Counting down in his head from three with his eyes locked with Will, both of them whistle loudly, everyone quieting immediately, eyes moving to the two of them, Will having walked over to Mike in this time.
"Wouldn't it be easier to figure out if we weren't in chaos?" Mike points out, and they show various emotions of embarrassment, realization, and surprise. Then he realizes there's something in his hand now, lifting it up with his eyebrows drawing together, he quickly realizes what it is. "Oh, I got a note." Astute observation, me, he thinks sarcastically. "'Welcome to The Theatre, travelers. You've been chosen as one of the universes to react to the multiverse specific to you. Don't worry, no harm is to come to you here unless it is between yourselves, though I doubt it will happen. The device at the front of the room is a projection screen, a TV,'" they all look to the front of the room, to the slick black screen that definitely isn't technology from their time. "'Sit wherever you'd like. Both hallways to each side are labeled and contain their own notes of rules taped up on the backs of the doors. Please follow them, as they are for both comfort and safety. After you finish this note, please find a seat, and the rules of the viewing room will be displayed on the screen. Relax, enjoy this break, and try to keep an open mind. Your Friend, TYR.'"
Mike turns the paper over, but nothing else is there, so he shrugs, and they find their seats.
"What do you think we'll see?" he hears Dustin ask.
"How should I know, it said multiverse," Steve responds.
Robin shushes them as the screen turns on, displaying words.
RULE NO. 1 : IF TALKING EXCEEDS THREE (3) SECONDS, THE VIEWING WILL PAUSE.
"Useful," Will mutters, causing Mike to glance at him.
RULE NO. 2 : THE BEDROOMS ARE TO BE USED TO CALM DOWN DURING VIEWING, AND UNLESS SPECIFIED, THE VIEWING STOPS WHEN SOMEONE LEAVES.
A few curious noises and appreciative hums are heard.
RULE NO. 3 : BREAKS ARE INCLUDED EVERY FIVE (5) UNIVERSE VIEWINGS UNLESS THERE IS HEAVY MATTER INCLUDED, IN WHICH YOU WILL BE GIVEN A CUSTOM BREAK. INCLUDED BREAKS ARE FIFTEEN (15) MINUTES EACH.
EXTRA NOTE: INFORMATION ABOUT EACH UNIVERSE WILL BE DISPLAYED BEFORE VIEWING, AND QUESTIONS WILL BE ANSWERED WITH A NOTE TO THE TOP RIGHT CORNER OF THE SCREEN.
Mike bites his lip, wondering what exactly they'd be seeing, hoping none of it was incriminating. There are a few words exchanged between the others, but Mike stays quiet until El's shoulder brushes his, and he turns to where she's sitting on his left.
"Are you okay?" she asks, and he wants to tell the truth, that he's worried he'll get outed and everyone will hate him, but he nods instead.
"Fine. You?" He doesn't miss the disappointed, maybe irritated tint to her expression, but she nods and turns back. He wrings his hands together again as his gaze moves back to the screen. He takes a deep breath, trying to convince himself that nothing like that will be shown, but it's obvious that he's lying to himself.
The screen lights up with words again.
UNIVERSE ONE: ROLE SWAP.
Sharing a look with Will, Mike's worry heightens. Guess we're doing this, he thinks anxiously.