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Hopper had never been the perfect father. He never claimed he was a perfect one either, so there’s no lying on his part. He barely had a try with Sara, even if he thought he did a pretty good job until.. Yeah. With El, he wasn’t perfect either. They had fights, bad ones too. What can you do when your kid has super powers?
When he started dating Joyce, he knew he’d have to have some sort of relationship with the kids. He didn’t want to impose a father onto them, but fuck, Lonnie was the worst, so replacing their father wasn’t something he was worried about.
Jonathan and Will were always a mystery to him, no matter what relationship he had with them. Most kids he knew were mysteries(hell, look at Wheeler). Most of those mysteries he could just ignore, because they didn’t need to talk with him.
But when he was making some late night coffee since he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t ignore when Will stumbled in the front door, blinking slowly.
“Kid? Is that you?” Hopper questioned, moving to get a better look.
Will grumbles, making a dismissive gesture, and stumbles over to the stairs. But he trips halfway there, and Hopper barely makes it to catch him.
“Woah there bud, what’s going on?” Hopper questions, helping Will stand up. Will looks away, his expression sour. “Are you drunk or high? Did you hit your head?”
“Leave me alone, Hop,” Will mutters, pushing him away, but Hopper holds firm. “Seriously, Hopper, I don’t want to talk right now,” Hopper raises an eyebrow. Will huffs through his nose. “I gotta.. Gotta go t’sleep or somet’ing..”
Will’s words were getting progressively more slurred, so Hopper was going to assume the kid’s had a few drinks. “Here, I’ll get you some water,” Hopper decides, helping the teenager over to the kitchen island and sitting him on a stool. “You’re going to drink some of this and then tell me where you were all night.”
He sets a glass of water in front of Will, who had his chin propped on his palm. Will looked at the glass before looking up at Hopper, eyes drooping and annoyed. “I don’t need ta tell no one shit,” Will grumbles, but takes a few gulps.
“Your mother was worried sick,” Hopper notes, taking a seat across the island table from Will, watching him as he downed the glass. “I told her I’d wait for you.”
“I wasn’t out for long,” Will mutters, setting the glass down and running his finger along the rim. “She doesn’t need ta worry.. ‘M good..”
“Then where were you?” Hopper questions, and Will scoffs lightly, rolling his eyes. Hopper frowns at the teenager, crossing his arms as he leans back in his seat. “And where did you get drunk? I thought you said you were out with your friends.”
Will huffs again, his eyes glassy from the clear drinks. “I was ,” He mutters, his gaze flickering from the glass to his fingers to the table. “This is stupid, I gotta go to sleep.. Cause it’s..” He glances at the clock, squinting to see it, before realizing he couldn’t see it with his fuzzy vision, and looks back at the glass. “It’s late.. I think..”
“Can you tell me how many drinks you had?” Hopper questions, standing up to fill up the glass again, glancing over his shoulder as the water fills up the cup.
“Not enough,” Will mutters, before snickering to himself.
Hopper frowns with concern. “Will, this is serious,” He argues.
And like a flick of a switch, Will’s annoyed face shifted to a look of utter distress. Before Hopper could even think to widen his eyes, Will’s own were becoming shiny and he burst into tears, covering his face with his hands.
“Oh,” Hopper says stupidly, like the idiot he is. He shuts the water off and sets the glass to the side, moving over to Will’s side, setting a hand on his shoulder. Will looks up at him, eyes watery and red from the streaming tears. “Do you want–”
Will leaps out of his seat and into a hug with Hopper, sobbing into his shoulder. Hopper awkwardly hugs him back, patting the back of the boy’s head. “I messed up,” Will sobs, shaking his head. “I messed up so bad, Hop, I fucked everything up.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t everything ,” Hopper tries, but Will just keeps sobbing.
“He’s going to hate me, he’s going to hate me, he’s never gonna want to see me again,” Will rambles, and Hopper notes how the boy’s feet were sliding out from under him. “He’s never gonna like me again, he’s gonna hate me, Hopper..”
Hopper easily swings one of Will’s arms over his shoulder and moves to drag the teenager with them, down to where Will’s room was. “We can talk in the morning, kid,” He tells the drunk boy, whose eyes were half shut, still rambling on about whatever he’s talking about. “You can fix whatever happened in the morning, okay?”
They reach Will’s room and Hopper sits him on the bed. “Okay..” Will mumbles, before sniffling and wiping his face with one hand. It doesn’t do much, but he doesn’t seem to care. Will glances at his hand, and with a start, realizes he has a watch on, blinking at him to tell him the time. “Oh.. it’s two o’ seven..”
“That it is,” Hopper replies with a nod. “Go to sleep, kid, it’ll make you feel better.”
Will shrugs and rolls over, much more cooperative than he was earlier. Within seconds, he was out, and Hopper took the time to remove the kid’s shoes and pull the blanket over Will’s shoulders. He was going to have one hell of a hangover .
~~~~
There was a loud groan coming from the hallway of the kid’s rooms, making Hopper chuckle. Joyce looks up from where she was cooking breakfast with a frown. “What was that?” She questioned, glancing between Hopper and the hallway.
“Probably your hungover son,” Hopper answers, giving a meaningful look to Joyce.
“Hungover?” Joyce echoes with a deeper frown. “He came back drunk?” Hopper simply nods and Joyce looks back at her cooking. “Did you figure out why?”
A few doors opened and closed before Hopper answered. “He wouldn’t answer any of those questions,” He says with a shrug, and Joyce’s brow furrows with her motherly concern. “I told him we could talk in the morning, but with how shitfaced he was I’d be surprised if he remembered anything from last night at all.”
At that moment, none other than Will stepped into the kitchen, rubbing his eye with the bottom of his palm, squinting against the morning light.
“Good morning,” Hopper says passively, raising one eyebrow at Will’s messy hair.
“Goodm–” Will starts in a raspy voice, before clearing his throat, coughing into his hand to cover it up. He looks away from Hopper like he was embarrassed. “Good morning.” He blinks as he turns to his mom. “Could I have some coffee?”
Hopper slid a prepared mug of steaming coffee across the table. “Already done, kid,” He says, making Will mumble something that might’ve been a ‘thanks’.
“Baby, what happened last night?” Joyce says softly, turning off the stove and setting the last of breakfast on plates. “Hopper told me you came back drunk.”
Will didn’t reply, staring into the coffee in front of him as he grips onto the mug’s handle. Joyce glances at Hopper with concern for a moment before moving to the seat next to Will’s, moving to grab his free hand. Will pulled his hand away and ran it through his hair, his blank face started to crack, beginning to look stressed.
There was another tense moment before Will let out a shaky breath. “I fucked up,” He mutters, making Joyce only look more worried. “I fucked up so badly, I–”
Will made a noise between a whine and a sob as he covered his face with his hands.
“Can you tell us what happened?” Hopper questions softly, trying not to use his police-interrogating voice on the kid. Will removes his hands, running one through his hair again. “We can help you, but you gotta talk to us, kid.”
“It’s all my fault,” Will mutters, rubbing his temples with his pointer fingers. His headache was making his head throb, making him squeeze his eyes shut. “We were hanging out at Mike’s house like we planned, and then we were at some party someone was throwing..” Will groans a little as his head throbs even more, his memories from last night fuzzy from all the drinking he knew he had done.
“You went to a party?” Joyce exclaims, making Will flinch from the noise and the resulting headache. Joyce noticed and went quiet. “Sorry, I can get you tylenol.”
A minute later Will swallowed the pill with a glass of water and continued rubbing his temples. Hopper nods encouragingly, trying to tell Will to keep going.
Will looked miserable as he stared down at the table. “There was alcohol,” He mutters, feeling ashamed of himself as he glances at his mom, then back down at the table. “We all had a few drinks and.. And then Mike and I got into a fight..”
Joyce raised her eyebrows. Hopper frowns, his eyes narrowing. Now what did that Wheeler kid do now ? He thinks to himself, ready to find the kid with a baseball bat.
“It was stupid,” Will says firmly, tracing a circle on the wooden table. “I said something and then he said something and it just escalated. I don’t remember it very well, but..” His eyes welled up with tears. “I said something really horrible to him,” Will whispers, his hand that was tracing on the table tightening into a fist.
“What–” Joyce starts, before she’s cut off quickly.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Will snaps roughly, his nails digging into his palm.
Joyce just nods, understanding. Hopper frowns to himself. He doesn’t think of the youngest Byers boy to be the kid to say something too horrible, he’s one of the nicest people Hopper’s met here in Hawkins, which is really saying something.
“I need to apologize but I don’t know if Mike even wants to see me anymore–” Will starts, his voice shaking with anxiety, before he’s cut off by a frantic knock at the door. The three of them all pause, turning to the front door with various emotions.
“Sweetie,” Joyce says softly, and her son turns back to her with wide eyes, both hopeful and scared. “I think that might be for you.”
That’s all it takes before Will jumps out of his seat and into the next room to get the door. Joyce and Hopper exchange a knowing glance before moving to eavesdrop on what they hope would be a progressive conversation.
Will opens the door, and he’s met with the sight of Mike’s back before the boy turns around. The two boys stare at each other for a long moment, both surprised.
“Hi,” They say at the same time.
“Will, I’m so sorry,” Mike jumps into his apology, eyes frantic. “I didn’t mean anything I said, really! I’m so sorry, I was drunk and I knew I shouldn’t have started anything like that and I never want to hurt you because I hate hurting you and–”
“Mike, calm down!” Will says in a rush, moving from the doorway to grab him by his shoulders. Mike stiffens at the grip, but his next words freeze on his tongue. Will looks him in the eyes with what he hopes is a meaningful gaze. “I’m not angry with you, you have nothing to apologize for—” Will pauses, frowning as he brushes off Mike’s shoulder, looking him over. “..You’re wearing the same outfit from last night.”
Mike looks down at his outfit, like he was surprised as well. “Oh,” He says slowly. “Yeah, I.. I didn’t really go home last night?” Will goes pale. “No, it’s alright, I–”
“Where did you go then?” Will almost shrieks, reminding himself he was hungover.
His best friend blinked to himself, trying to think. “I just.. Drove around.. in my car,” He answers, his voice slowly dropping off the more he talks. Will looks at him in a panic. “It’s alright, I actually needed it! It got me thinking about what I said and–”
“Mike,” Will whispers, and he sounds like he was about to cry, so Mike clamped his mouth shut again. “Did you sleep last night?” Will’s hands came to cup Mike’s face, moving it side to side to inspect his eyes and eyebags. “You look tired..”
The raven haired boy didn’t reply, so Will had his answer. Will’s eyes welled up with tears the second time that morning. Mike reached up and grabbed Will’s forearms, but didn’t push him away. In fact, he leaned into Will’s touch a little. “It’s alright,” Mike repeats for the umpteenth time. “I felt bad.. I couldn’t sleep.”
Will’s lip wobbles, and he throws his arms around Mike’s neck, pulling him into a hug. “Don’t do that ever again,” Will whispers, eyes wide with fear as Mike wraps his arms around Will just as tight, burying his face in Will’s shoulder. “You could– You could die like that. Or get kidnapped. So– So many bad things.” Will sniffles, starting to cry. Both their grips tightened around each other, and Mike’s eyes watered.
“I’m sorry,” Mike mumbles softly. “I thought you were angry with me.”
“I’m not,” Will almost sobs, shaking his head against Mike’s neck. “I could never be mad at you for that, you know that.” He sniffles again. “I’m the one that’s sorry.”
Mike closes his eyes, his face still pressed against Will’s shoulder. “I think I’m going to pass out,” He mutters calmly, making Will pull back with a start, staring at Mike’s face again. Mike just smiles a little. “Now that you’re not mad at me.”
“I- I wasn’t- Oh my god, just come inside,” Will drags Mike into the house, bringing him to the couch. Joyce and Hopper peek in from the kitchen as Mike sits on the cushion, already dozing off even before Will gets him a blanket. Will sits down beside him and takes a deep breath, feeling immensely relieved.
Will’s head begins bobbing up and down slowly, eyes fluttering. It plops down on Mike’s shoulder as Will passes out again. Joyce enters the room to adjust the blanket, covering both boys before pressing motherly kisses to their heads.
“A job well done, I’d say,” Hopper jokes as Joyce joins him back in the doorway.
“Oh be quiet, you,” Joyce whispers, smacking his shoulder.
Hopper glances at the kids sleeping in the living room and chuckles to himself, crossing his arms. Teenagers . He thought, following Joyce into the kitchen.