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Yelling in the background interrupted his peaceful drawing. Will looked up, the sunlight gently beaming on his eyes and making them shine a beautiful pale green. His brows furrowed as he tried to make out what the yelling outside his door may be.
"Get the fuck out of here!" his mother screamed.
"Hell no!" An oddly familiar male voice rose up right back. "This ain't your damn house, Joyce!"
A cold fear that Will swore he left in the past suddenly gasped back to life and shot down his spine. His door suddenly shot open and a taller, dark haired boy rushed inside before shutting the door behind him and locking it. When he turned around, Will saw it was Mike.
"Mike?" he squinted. "What's going on?"
"Do not go out there," Mike warned, his voice low.
"What?" Will got up. "Why?"
"Will," the other boy warned again. "Don't. Please."
"Who the hell is out there, Mike?"
"Damnit- It's your dad, okay?" he snapped.
Silence fell over the dusty room. Since Hawkins fell, they had to shelter at some makeshift military base set up on a farm. Currently, Will, El, and Jonathan were using the old tack room as all of their rooms, but the other two were outside. Caught in the crossfires of his parents inevitable fight.
Someone began pounding on the door, causing both boys to jump. Immediately, Mike ran towards Will and grabbed his arm defensively. He stood in front of his closest friend and watched the door, waiting for it to fall down.
"Will?" his father called, a smirk evident just by his voice. "I know you're in there, son. Open the door. Your father wants to talk to you."
Will slowly stepped forward, heavily considering it, before Mike stopped him by forcefully yanking him backward. His friend's dark, calm eyes clouded with fear and anger. He shook his head violently and his dark curly hair bounced around with each motion.
"He's my father," Will murmured, beginning to grow aggravated. "You can't stop me."
Mike gave him a perplexed, pleading look before he broke free from his grasp once more. Will approached the door with a newfound bravery, determined to face his father, no, this man who suddenly wanted so badly to be in his life again. When he swung the tack room door open, he was met with the grizzly sight of a man that looked like his father, but would never be his dad. His dark hair had grayed out almost completely, leaving dirty looking darker tips. His face was sunken in and gray stubble surrounded his mouth and chin like gravel.
When Will looked into his eyes, he was rendered frozen when he felt like he was staring at himself. Lonnie's eyes were a pale, sad green, that turned brown in the winter. In his pupils, Will saw the fear on his face reflected into his father's vision. His stomach twisted as he thought about what his father saw when his head was spinning from the alcohol, gripping a tinier Will's jacket and slamming his head repeatedly into a doorframe while mumbling slurs.
The man's face distorted into a grin. "Well, you've grown up, haven't you?"
"Obviously," Will snapped. "You'd know if you stayed."
"Oh, come on, Will," Lonnie scoffed. "You and I both know that me leaving was for the better. Right?"
The deadly mix of fear and anger that was swirling in Will's belly met and started violently rotating into a cyclone of pure disgust. So you're self aware.
"Who's the boy?" the man motioned toward Mike.
"I'm his friend," Mike narrowed his eyes. "Will, I really don't think this is a good idea-"
"What?" Lonnie pushed himself into the room. "Sorry, who are you to say anything about me or my family?"
Both boys fell silent. For once, it wasn't out of fear, at least for Will it wasn't.
"Shut the fuck up." Mike choked on air and glanced over, his eyes wide as saucers.
This time, his father was rendered silent. But of course, that would never be for long. "I'm sorry?"
"Are you loosing your hearing?" Will narrowed his eyes. "I said shut-"
He was cut off by Lonnie slamming into Will and pushing him against the nearest wall with a loud crash. Will's head smacked against the hard wood and seared with pain. Through his sudden hazy vision, he could make out the outline of his father's wrinkled face and glossed over hazel eyes. However, there was something different about them, like all the light had faded from them and someone different was behind his actions.
As Mike viciously ripped Will's own father off of him with a strength he had never seen, he wondered for a split moment if this is how helpless Mike felt when he was being flayed.
He crumpled to the ground, ears ringing and the warm sensation of blood suddenly dripping down the back of his head. Mike dodged around Lonnie's scarily accurate attacks, being hit by a few, before Jonathan barged in and lunged at him. Apparently smoking weed made you weak, or something, because his father was able to punch his older brother into Mike. He saw his mother at the door and heard her screaming, which was just about e-fucking-nough.
Will got up, shaking violently, but not out of fear. He sucked in a hot breath and held it in as he ripped at his father's collar mid-swing on Mike and threw him backwards, sending his head into one of the wooden legs of El's bed. Ironically, his sister was at the door, about to fight back too, but Joyce held her back. Like she just knew. If only his father knew, as currently he was holding his head and groaning as his head spun just as Will's had just a moment earlier.
He knelt down and gripped his father's throat, squeezing angrily and looking him dead in his own eyes. "Can you hear me?"
Lonnie gagged, struggling beneath him. That was a yes.
"Good," Will gritted his teeth together. "If you ever come back here and touch not only my family, but my best friend again, I'll fucking gut you."
Lonnie's fist crashed against the side of his face. Will grunted in surprise, but quickly regained composure and punched at him to try and get him off. His father was strong, but not too strong, so he winced with every hit. However, it wasn't enough to prevent his hands from pressing against Will's own throat. As his airflow was quickly surpressed, he panicked, and began reaching around for something, anything. Around him, Will and Jonathan yelled angrily, but were still badly beaten.
A glass bottle accidentally landed in Will's hand. He accidentally broke it. He accidentally saw himself in his own father's sickly face, older and angry, looking down at his younger, disappointing self with an unbridled rage boiling over in his throat. He accidentally slammed the glass shards into those sickly green eyes.
Lonnie screamed and fell backward, clutching his eyes as blood spurted out of them. At that exact moment, Hopper burst into the room, about to scream his head off but pausing when he saw Lonnie writhing on the floor and his adopted son sitting up against the side of El's mattress, heaving and coughing as air returned to his neck. His step-dad knelt down and grabbed the bleeding man from the collar, hoisting him upward and dragging him out of the tack room. As the screaming quieted, Will looked up, exhausted, to see that mostly everyone was looking at him.
The sudden realization that he hadn't even had to get remotely drunk to match his father's wrath sprouted and grew in his conscience, yellow and ugly as a spurge.