Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Are you gonna rewind that or what?”

Will looked up, meeting Mike’s eyes. His voice had come out rigid, annoyed. Will said nothing, instead choosing to cast his eyes downward and do exactly that.

 He couldn’t let himself look at Mike for too long. If he did, he’d the way Mike’s entire face was coloured in irritation. The way his eyes had a darkness clouding in them, hiding the hues of warmth within the brown. The way his brows seemed to be permanently furrowed accompanied by a scowl that replaced his usual grin.

Slowly, the tape rewound, starting the low hum of Boys Don’t Cry once more. Will was beginning to get a little sick of the song. It was one he always held close to his heart, letting the lyrics sit deep and uneasy in his stomach as the song continued.

I would say I’m sorry

If I thought that it would change your mind

The entire group was walking through the moonlit woods, the leaves crunching beneath their feet. Nancy and Jonathan led them, with Dustin, Steve, Lucas and Robin all talking amongst themselves behind them. Joyce, Hopper and Eleven had stayed back at the radio station. Something about 'training'. Will and Mike trailed behind, taking slower steps than the rest. Will couldn’t tell you why, he wanted nothing more than to be left alone. 

The woods weren’t the same. The once thriving ecosystem now sported decaying remnants of a past that once was. The grass and flowers were gray and wilted, barely standing. The trees that had survived had lost their leaves for winter, the others were nothing more than a figure covered in ash. Will hated it. He hated the way his once glowing town now felt so off. He hated how much it resembled the place he hated so much.

He had survived it so many times, just for it to chase him right back to his home and take that too. Ironic, huh?

But I know that this time

I have said too much, been too unkind

Mike let out a sigh next to him, his breath mixing with the wind and newly falling ash. They hadn’t had any downpour for quite a while. Winter must’ve made it worse somehow. Or maybe it’s just one big sick joke. Will thinks he’ll never truly know.

“Are we ever going to talk, or are we ignoring each other for the indefinite future?”

Will should’ve seen this coming. He really should’ve. If there’s anything he knows about Mike through their 11 years of friendship, it’s that he’s one stubborn motherfucker.

“We don’t have anything to talk about.” Lie.

He knows Mike will call it out. He knows his voice was a little too strained for it to be the truth. Mike scoffs, and from there, Will starts his countdown. Three, two..

“Really?”

Will turns to look at Mike, before immediately regretting it and facing the mud once more. He musters up what must be the most stable voice he can manage before giving a small, “Yes.” , Lie.

Will couldn’t tell you when he started lying like this. Maybe it started last week when he had told the group he was fine after refusing to join them for movie night. What he had really wanted to say was ‘No, I’m not fine. I feel like I’m losing my mind and I feel so dizzy I can’t even see straight.’ . He hadn’t, of course, and that led to him passing out 5 minutes later with no one to catch him. The bruise on his arm was enough to constantly remind him of that.

Maybe it started when he was a kid, after his dad hit him a little too hard and it left a mark. Jonathan would beg him to tell him if Dad ever touched him, but, Will being Will, he would always blame it on falling over at school. Some part of him wonders if Jonathan ever knew the truth. Another part of him doesn’t want the answer to that.

Maybe it started last year, when he had laid his heart bare to Mike in the back of a pizza van while hiding behind his sister’s name. Gifting a painting that he had spent weeks working on, only to let someone else take all the credit.

Will knows that was when it truly started. If it hadn’t been, Mike wouldn’t be pushing so hard right now.

I try to laugh about it

Cover it all up with lies

“You can’t keep shutting me out, Will. It’s not fair.”

Will felt a rush of anger wrap around him, grappling at his throat. Before he even knew what he was saying, it was already out. “And this is?”

Mike eyed him, seemingly trying to read his tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Will felt his resolve dissolve as quickly as it built. With no will to fight about this, again, he sighed. “Nothing, forget it.”

“Why do you keep doing that?”

Mike’s voice was laced with frustration, clawing at Will for.. something.

“Doing what?”  Will looked back up, his eyes finding Mike’s as easily as they’d always done. Except this time, there seemed to be a widening gap between them.

“That. You finally say something real, something you mean and then you just shut it down. It’s like you don’t want me to see you anymore.”

Will couldn’t help the way his eyes glared before biting out his response. “You haven’t seen me in a long time, Mike.”

I try to laugh about it

Hiding the tears in my eyes

Mike looked at him with confusion and shock, clearly disbelieving of Will’s words. Before he could make a rebuttal, Will continued.

“We haven’t talked in weeks, Mike! And no-“ He shot his finger up at Mike, pointing it straight into his chest. “- you shouting at me for that stupid painting last week doesn’t count.”

Will forced back a tremble as the memory came flooding back. It was far too soon to be irritating the wound Mike had cut. If he focused on it too much, he’d hear the voice of his best friend shouting at him for the first time. He’d remember his best friend throwing the painting on his desk and the slam of his door. He’d remember how he had to comfort himself afterwards, crying silently into his hands.

Cause boys don’t cry

Mike narrowed his eyes, batting Will’s hand away. “You lied to me and won’t tell me why. So forgive me if I’m a little pissed off at you right now.” 

Boys don’t cry

Will looked around for a beat before returning back to Mike. “You don’t even care, do you?”

“What?”

“All you care about is that fucking painting, Not about me or how I’m doing. Do you really think some small painting is the biggest concern you should have right now?”

“That’s not what-! What are you even..” Mike trailed off, breaking his stare and looking at his feet. He closed his eyes and inhaled, sharp and fast.

Will looked away, choosing to turn to the endless death of the world surrounding them. If he wasn’t on the verge of a breakdown, he might’ve found it funny how the trees seemed to wilt with him.

I would break down at your feet

And beg forgiveness, plead with you

As another hum of the song danced into Will’s ears, he heard Mike mutter. It was too quiet, so quiet that Will paused his music, turning to look at Mike.

“What’d you say?”

Will should’ve ignored it, pretended he never heard Mike say anything, let their distance grow and remain. Maybe if he had, his feelings would’ve fully died out.

Mike met his gaze, except now, his eyes were shining, holding vulnerability Will wasn’t quite ready for. The shock continued when Mike spoke.

“Do you really think I don’t care about you?”

The way he said it made all the fight in Will crumble. The wall he had prepared came crashing down. It was soft, far too soft for someone who should be beyond mad at him right now. It reminded him of being kids again, when Mike would lower his tone to speak to Will, handling him with such care Will could’ve cried. It reminded him of why he fell in love with Mike Wheeler in the first place.

Will blinked, taking in his question. “I..”

He steadied himself, taking in a deep breath as he stared again at the ground. “I don’t know. I mean, hopefully you do. And, realistically, you probably do. It’s just..”  He thought for a moment before continuing. “You haven’t shown it lately.”

Mike swallowed, hanging his head down and recollecting himself. He blinked one, two, three times before looking back up at Will. “Shit.”

Will let out a small laugh, thankful for the tension finally cracking, “Yeah, shit.”

Mike looked back up at the group, who were still deeply engrossed in their own conversations.

“You’ve been off lately.”

Will furrowed his brows, “Wow, thanks.”

Mike turned quickly, shaking his hand lightly. “No, not in a mean way. Like.. you just, you aren’t yourself. Even if we aren’t on the best of terms right now, I can tell when something is wrong.”

Will pointedly chose to ignore the emphasis Mike had put on ‘we’ and focused on the other things. “Nothing’s wrong.” Lie.

“Bullshit. Did that bruise on your arm come out of thin air?”

Will swallowed down a cough. “How did you even see it?”

“You had your sleeves rolled up while cleaning a couple days ago. How’d it happen?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does. Tell me.”

Stubborn motherfucker. Will dug his nail into his skin, desperate for a way out of this. He knew there wasn’t one. With a shake of his head, he gave in. “I passed out and hit my arm on the way down. It’s fine.”

Will was sure he heard Mike’s neck crack from how quick he turned to look at him. With wide eyes and trembling steps, Mike rushed out, “You passed out?”

Will couldn’t reply. Which, apparently, only makes it worse because from there, Mike could not stop talking.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone? When? Was it movie night?”

Their eyes didn’t meet again, leaving Mike to stare at Will’s hunched form. After a minute or two, Mike breathed out a small, “Jesus, Will.”

“When did you start lying so much?”

And, woah, not fair to point out at all.

“I’ve been trying to figure that out myself.” He couldn’t help but walk a little slower, all the exhaustion from the past few days finally catching up to him.

“So you have been lying?”

Shit. “Uh-“

He barely registered Mike make some sort of offended noise next to him, too focused on how blood was rushing to his face and head, leaving a painful ring in it’s wake.

And suddenly, he knew exactly where this was about to go, and he was not sticking around for it.

“Mike, if you bring this back to that fucking painting, I swear to God-“

“If you lied to me about that, who knows what else you’ve been lying about?”

Will’s anger came back full force, punching him in the gut and forcing out a choked laugh.  It was dry, echoing Mike’s own frustration. “Are you serious?”

“Yes! I just want to know why you lied. Is it so fucking hard to tell me the truth?”

The truth. What a funny concept. The truth is something that would destroy them forever. At least this way, Mike hated him for something Will could control.

“Yes! It really is.”

Will let his hands fly out, raising his voice and disturbing the eerie quiet of the woods. Consequently, the rest of the group turned to look at the pair, taking in their clenched fists and glares.

“What is your problem?” Mike bit back, clearly wanting to do nothing more than get on every last nerve Will possesses.

“My problem? You’re the one who won’t leave me alone about all of this!”

Will doesn’t get angry, not a lot, not at Mike. Recently though, he’s found it much easier to reach his tipping point, lashing out at people a lot more than he would like to admit. Now, however, he felt fully justified in shouting at Mike. If he wanted something real, then he would get it.

Lucas attempted a weak “Guys” before accepting it was pointless and glanced to Dustin for help, only to receive a confused shrug in return. Mike and Will didn’t fight, so they didn’t fully know how to go about dismantling this. Lucas turned to Jonathan and Nancy, who seemed just as out of the loop as they were.

“I’m not the one being a dick and constantly lying to people! At least pretend to give a shit about the people around you Will.”

Will shut his mouth. He took a moment to process what was happening. Him and Mike were arguing, in-front of everybody. Mike was still focused on the painting. Mike was being an asshole.

He shook his head, tightening his fist before spitting out a low, “Fuck you.”

Will turned, walking straight towards the rest of the group and choosing to walk alongside Jonathan. He didn’t look back, if he did, he would’ve seen the small frown that appeared on Mike’s face. He would’ve seen the regret cloud Mike’s eyes. He would’ve seen him bite his lip hard to keep his sob down. He would’ve seen a lot, enough to ease his anger. But he didn’t.

The rest of the walk was awkward, no one really knowing what to say to the pair. It seemed especially bad with Will. Everyone was talking to him like he was a ticking time bomb. It did nothing for Will except build the anger he had bubbling under his skin. Can he just have one day where people treat him like a normal person?

Mike never looked at him, and he never looked at Mike. It was only when they got to the lake did they dare acknowledge each other again.

“Will.”

All breath control stopped. Will slowly turned around, facing his friend.

“Can we talk?”

No. “Just fuck off, Mike. We’ll talk later.” 

Well, that came out meaner than he wanted it to. Oh well, he stands by it.

At least he does, until he takes a look at Mike and sees the kicked puppy expression. It’s shameful how quick regret engulfs Will. He had always had a soft spot for Mike, everyone knew that. At one point, Mike must’ve realised too, because he’s been using it to get his way for years. Or maybe that’s just Mike being Mike and Will being Will. Maybe that’s just how they work.

Either way, Will’s head is pounding and Mike’s eyeline is shimmering a little too much under the moonlight, so he forces out an apology.

“Shit- sorry. That wasn’t what I meant. We’ll talk later, I promise, okay?”

Despite Will wanting to feel embarrassed about the rushed out plea for amendments, he can’t help but notice the small smile creep up Mike’s face. “Promise?”

He nods, maybe a little too eager. “Yeah.”

At that, Mike seems pleased, turning around on his heel and leaving Will at the dock. Will does the same, looking out into what remains of Lover’s Lake.

What once was a vast lake with plenty of sunlight and memories sat a darkened and broken heart. The woods was still dead, trapping them in around the line where mud and water met. From below, you could still see the red glow of the gate, it’s devilish snarl somehow rippling through the water’s surface.

Will shuddered, wondering what Patrick thought in his final moments before shooting up to the sky, bones cracking and falling straight into the cloudy blue. That gate was the evidence of his life being ripped away from him, and that was enough to make anyone feel a cold chill run through their blood.

Distantly, he thought he recognised the voices of his friends, but the pounding in his head wasn’t letting go, with no sign of stopping anytime soon. It echoed through his skull, knocking back at him whenever he inhaled. Jonathan’s voice in the back turned into a quiet ring, acting like a flatline within his own mind.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep, uneasy breath. It burned at the back of his throat, the cold now seeping into his fingertips and deep in his gut. The wind was becoming stronger, whipping his bangs into his eyelids and grazing his forehead far too aggressively for the soft curl his hair now held. Waves began to swirl below, and far too quickly his legs began to unravel, leaving him wobbling and reeling where he stood.

As he took a final deep breath, he opened his eyes, ignoring the goosebumps that formed on the back of his neck as he did. His legs snapped back into working, and he began to walk towards the rest of the group, head upright, vision too blurry for his liking.

Then, slowly, Mike yelled.

“Will!”

Will felt it before he saw it. In one swift motion, a vine wrapped around his ankle, pulling him down to the hard wood of the dock’s structure.

His chin hit the planks, pain shooting through his jaw and the taste of blood flowing in before he even felt the warmth of it. The ringing in his ears was unbearable, with the vine twisting more and more around his foot. All the air he just inhaled was gone, leaving him to do nothing more than let out a breathy scream –

“Mike!”

Everyone ran toward him, desperately trying to keep up with the speed the vine was pulling at him. Will twisted, facing the vine, noting how it seemed to be stabbing sharp fangs into his leg. Ah, that explains the excruciating rush of pain climbing up his calf.

Too many people were shouting, screaming and clutching at Will, with Nancy shooting out 2 ear-piercing shots at the vine. It barely loosened, instead pulling him further down. Mike had his hand wrapped around Will, a foot propped against the wooden pillar at the end of the dock to keep his stability.

Sweat collected on his forehead, beading and balling together around the strands of his curls. Will wanted to tell him he could let go, relax, but all he could do was scream, desperate for the pain to subside.

But Will was never that lucky, was he?

He wasn’t lucky when his father came home too drunk to take him trick or treating when he was 6, leaving him to silently cry into his mother’s arms.

He wasn’t lucky when his father walked out the door, muttering a word about him that he couldn’t understand before slamming the door with a crack, never to be seen again.

He wasn’t lucky when he was taken from his small family shed at 12, clinging to his shotgun and whispering out a far too fragile “please..” as the light illuminated above him.

He wasn’t lucky now, with a vine digging into his skin like it had only one option. It wanted him, it was going to get him. It always was, wasn’t it?

Tears streamed down his face, his grip on Mike’s forearm loosening, he couldn’t keep fighting. Not when it was so clear he was living on borrowed time. His time was up, no matter how hard somebody tried to clutch onto him. His life had been a ticking clock since the moment he fell of his bike on Mirkwood, with no one to save him. Slowly, his fight drained, his fingers releasing Mike.

“Will, don’t you dare! Hold on, please!”

Will looked  up, meeting Mike’s eyes. They were bloodshot, tears streaming down his cheeks, rosy and flushed. His eyebrows were downturned, scrunching in the middle where fury met desperation in a heated collision. His words came out shouted, his nails digging into the sensitive skin of Will’s wrist and arm, clawing with the same strength of Henry’s own hand.

Most of all, Will noticed the pure panic in his eyes. They were desperate, holding onto Will by emotions alone, as if the glazed over shine could save him. The warm hues of his eyes returned, colouring his face as the blue from the water created shadows along his jaw.

If Will wasn’t literally about to be pulled back down to hell, he would’ve called him beautiful.

It’s there, in the wooden hue of Mike’s eyes, Will realised how truly lucky he was.

He was lucky, when his dad flaked on trick or treating, Mike had come knocking on the door, pillowcase in hand, telling him he had spare candy leftover that he would love to share.

He was lucky when his dad left because when the next time the door opened, Mike was stood on the other side, arms open and ready to cradle a much smaller Will.

He was far too lucky to let someone else get hurt because of him. Will couldn’t take their luck from them like that. Especially not Mike’s.

Mike, who he loved so deeply that he wasn’t sure where Will ended and Mike begun. It’s the easiest thing in the world to do, loving Mike Wheeler. How could he ever consider himself unlucky when he had 11 years with such a boy?

“Mike, let go.”

The boy in question turned to him with wide eyes, tearing them away from the vine and right into Will’s pleading hazel. His eyes were staring at him, desperate to see some sign of Will asking him not to do that.

“No! Are you fucking crazy? Just-fuck. Hang on!”

“Mike, please! I can’t hold on anymore..”

Will’s voice came out as screamed sobs, painting his pain across the sky and clouds. Once upon a time he missed them, wishing he could see the outline of his home in the California  storms. Now, he hated them, hating how the gray and black collided into a mess of monochrome.

“I’m not-! I can’t lose you again Will!”

His words hit like a punch, taking everything Will had ever wanted to hear and wrapping it up, with a tag saying ‘For your safe arrival to Hell’, tied together with a bloody bow. It was painful, digging into his mind as the vine contorted against his calf once more.

A scream rippled through the air, the water edge moving in tandem with it. Mike strung out apologies, seemingly no longer having control over his own mouth. Will heard none of it, focusing on digging his nails hard enough into Mike to draw blood, much to his shameful regret.

His lungs could barely hold, a scratching now taking home in his throat, relentlessly burning as his screams continued. Jonathan held onto Mike, reeling him back onto the dock to stop him from going over too. Nancy continued shooting, aiming until she herself was shouting for more ammo. Robin, Steve, Dustin and Lucas sat back, conjuring up something to burn the vine.

This wasn’t worth it. I’m not worth it.

Without thinking any further, he looked back up at Mike.

“Let go.”

It must’ve been the low, gravely tone he used that snapped Mike out of autopilot. Or the cold look that had replaced Will’s usual love. Maybe it was the stability in which he said it, like one way or another, he was letting this vine take him.

“No.”

Mike turned to Nancy, meeting her eyes for just a moment. He gifted her a small apologetic smile, eyebrows shaking and tears still pouring down with no way of stopping.

“Mike- No!”

Nancy’s anguished scream. That was the last thing Will remembers hearing before plunging straight down into the water. It was cold. So fucking cold. He felt so light in the heaviness, letting the vine drag him down with no protest. He hadn’t yet realised Mike was still clinging onto his arms, willingly going down with him.

 All he knew was the ringing had stopped, replaced with the silence of the wading water, and the red glow of the gate below them.

Chapter Text

"Shit, shit, shit!"

Will cracked his eyes open, blurry and heavy. His entire body felt like too much, aching and his skin painfully too aware of where his clothes were touching him.

Vaguely, he heard the panicked whispers and pacing of someone near him. However, the distortion of his eyesight and loud ringing in his ears made identification impossible. A pounding in his head echoed through to his ribcage, sending his heartbeat knocking against every vein.

His mouth felt dry, his tongue dense. Speaking was off the table entirely, a scratching in his throat burning and twanging when he did so much as let in a shuddered breath.

"Damn it, where's the fucking- shit!"

The voice returned, teetering on the edge of normal speaking volume as their whisper shouting continued. Will heard clattering, followed by more distant distress. As much as he wanted to give in to the sleep that was calling him, he knew he should probably open his eyes.

It felt foreign, like he hadn't opened them for a long time. He fought the slow lull the buzz in his mind seemed to sing, focusing on whoever was so clearly in need of help around him.

Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the world around him.

The first thing he noticed was the blue. It was deep yet vibrant, colouring everything in a dark hue of it. Red flashed in through the corner of his eye, blinking every few seconds in a way that ran a chill down his spine. There was no sign of the moonlit sky he adored, or the thunderstorm clouds he hated.

The second thing he noticed was the cold. How it clung to his skin and prickled at his blood. A frost covered him from head to toe, with no warmth seeping in from his seemingly damp clothes. It felt wrong, violating the one boundary he held so closely to him. The layers he wore now working in favour of the cold, no longer protecting him.

The third thing he noticed was - well.

"Shit, I'm sorry, just-"

The panic of the person fidgeting around him.

As his mind played catch up, so did his pain apparently. Because now, in replace of a numbing sensation, grew a painful stab within his leg. It clawed against what Will presumed was likely a cut, ripping open his skin and tingling whenever a gust of the freezing air passed by.

All too quickly, he felt something push on the cut, squeezing and irritating and twisting in all the wrong ways.

He found his voice fairly easily after the pain hit, letting out a cry, something between a sob and scream.

"Shit! Will, are you awake? Fuck, I'm so sorry."

Mike. It was Mike.

Will shot his eyes open the rest of the way, wincing through his teeth while swallowing some saliva. With his throat still barely coated, he whispered - "Yeah."

He saw the fuzzy silhouette of Mike looming over him, eyes wide and full of concern. Gentle fingers ran through his bangs, pushing them back as the hand followed. Fingernails lightly scraped at his scalp, easing the headache that had taken home within him.

When Mike spoke again, his tone had dropped, now holding a worried shake, low and loving. "How you feeling? How bad does it hurt?"

It took everything in him to form a response. "Like hell."

The dry, raspy cough his words came out as made Mike release a breathy laugh. A small smile relieving some of the tension floating around them. He tracked Mike's eyes as they raked his face, before choosing to do the same as it became clearer.

Mike's hair was damp, curls clinging and spiralling around his forehead. Droplets of water - tears or sweat - still lay on his skin. His cheeks were tinged pink, a contrast to the ghostly whiteness that was the rest of him. A shine on his waterline indicated tears, fresh and still forming, a crease in his forehead backing it. His lips let go of the smile, in it's wake a frown stained, whispering words of solicitude, holding Will afloat against his pain.

Finally, Mike spoke again.

"I thought you were still- uh, asleep? Unconscious? I was trying to wrap your leg. I'm sorry."

Will risked it, he bent his head downward towards the leg in question. Past the abandoned wrapping was a plethora of deep, gushing cuts. Blood ran down his ankle, mixing with the remnants of water and slime. The skin around them was bright red, already bruising and pulsing. Will felt sick, inhaling a stuttered breath.

Mike placed two fingers under his chin, pulling his eyes away from his mangled calf and back to him. Will, swallowing a gag - "Bad?"

"No, you-"

"Don't lie to me, Mike."

Anyone with human eyes could see it was bad. The last thing Will needed when he was probably the most disoriented and in pain he'd ever been was Mike sugar-coating something so obvious.

Mike sighed, furrowing his brows in contemplation before giving in. "Bad."

Will closed his eyes, relishing in the way his exhaustion seemed to dissolve under the darkness of his eyelids.

"Hey, hey, no, come on I need you to stay awake." Mike's voice was soft, matching the way his fingers were still cascading through his hair.

Reluctantly, Will opened his eyes, letting a small sigh escape his lips.

Mike looked between his face and his leg for a few moments, clearly going back and forth on whatever he wanted to say. After another turn of his head and chewing on his bottom lip, Will broke.

"What?"

Mike turned back to him, eyes wide. "Huh?"

"You look like you wanna say something."

"Oh."

A beat. Then two, then three.

"Well?"

"It's just.." He chewed on his bottom lip once more. "Can I finish wrapping your leg? I'm worried about it getting infected."

Oh. That's why he was so hesitant.

Now it was Will's turn to knot his face in worry, turning briefly to his leg before a wave of nausea twisted so strongly in his stomach he had no choice but to face Mike again. He weighed the pros and cons in his mind. Which, realistically was dumb. Mike was right, some brief pain now to stop a future infection was the very obvious smarter answer.

"Sure, just.. be gentle, yeah?"

Mike nodded once, firm. "Of course."

He shifted downward towards his leg, hands bracing on the wrap cloth he must've found from somewhere else because Will didn't recognise it. Which, speaking of, where the hell is he?

"Wait, Mike?"

"Hm?" He popped his head up, eyes glistening under the red crackle.

"Where are we?"

Mike shuddered, taking a brief moment to analyse his surroundings before giving his answer. "Lucas' house. Just, a whole lot scarier."

In that moment, it clicked. The blue hue, the red thunder, the cold. He was back. He was back with nowhere to go. With no one to come find him. No guarantee anyone was coming to save him. And - and holy shit Mike is here too. Mike is in danger and Mike is going to die and his leg won't work and -

"Hey, woah, look at me. Breathe Will, come on, I got you."

Was he shaking? When did he start shaking?

Mike wrapped his arms around Will's sudden shaking form, cradling him and whispering grounding promises. He was cold, but cold in the same way Will was, which sent warmth running through them both. He was comforting in all the ways this place wasn't.

Will slowly steadied his breathing, his hands loosening from Mike's shirt. Mike looked down at him, offering a small smile and a "You okay?"

He received a nod in reply, as Will couldn't trust his voice to not just be a wobbly sob. When he finally recollected himself, he remembered he had more important matters at hand. Such as -

"How are you here?"

The hand rubbing his back stuttered, slowing as the answer formed in his throat. "I came with you, through the gate."

Will pulled back, looking Mike directly in his eyes. "What?" It came out a little high pitched and unsure, but it was probably the most amount of his voice he'd used since his scream.

"When the vine was pulling you into the lake, I didn't let go. I think I shoved Jonathan off me just so I could go down with you."

The way Mike said it was light, like he had already processed the fact he had willingly gone to the fucking Upside Down. It was far too calm for the crowd of emotions Will had running through his mind.

"What?" he blurted.

Mike looked a little taken aback, breathing out a small laugh.

Will continued gawking, until - "Are you fucking crazy? I told you to let me go!" - He shoved a hand into Mike's shoulder, shoving him away and drilling his words into the boy sat in-front of him. Mike didn't even take a second glance at it, instead staring at Will's icy glare.

"Why are you mad at me?"

Will threw his hands out, voice getting louder as he spoke. "Because you have no idea how dangerous this place is! What if something happens and it's all my fault? You should've left me, Mike! You should've-"

His wrists were pulled down into his lap, words interrupted by Mike.

"Take a breath."

Will stared incredulously. "Mike-"

"Just, hear me out, yeah?"

Hearing silence for a reply, Mike took it as a yes.

"I wasn't gonna let you go in alone. Not again. I couldn't have lived with myself knowing you were here, especially with your leg being all fucked up." He squeezed Will's wrist. "And, nothing will happen. I bet the group is already looking for us."

Will blinked back tears, turning his head to the side, away from Mike. Along the walls were vines, slithering and slimy against it. Ash clung to them like a second home, making Will remember how much of it is probably in his lungs. He sniffed, not caring anymore if Mike could hear him.

He heard Mike shuffle to his leg, Will clenching his teeth in preparation.

"Ready?"

Will nodded, holding his hand to his mouth and biting down.

True to his word, Mike wrapped it as gently as he could. Only pulling and tightening when absolutely necessary, muttering out apologies and winces whenever Will's muffled screams echoed off the walls a little too much.

He saw spots, pain overwriting any logical thought Will ever had. His teeth ached from how hard they bit against one another, his jaw locking and clicking. Air was limited, leaving his lungs burning as Mike continued, securing it in place as quickly as he could.

Sweat ran down his neck, pooling at his upper lip as he let out another grunt. After 20 torturous minutes (2 in reality, it just felt much, much longer) , Mike returned his hand to Will's scalp, swiping his bangs back once more.

"It's done, shit, I'm so sorry.."

Will heaved a few deep breaths, turning back to Mike with a small, pained smile. "It's okay, you did what you had to. Thanks."

Mike's worries seemed to subside a little at that, mirroring Will's smile. "Anytime."

The pain became easier to manage and Lucas' room came more into view, leaving a new question in the front of Will's mindscape. "How'd we get here?"

Mike's face coloured with confusion. "The Upside Down? You know how."

Will snorted a little at that. "No, here."

A light in Mike's eyes. "Oh!" And strangely, a pink flush on his cheeks. "I uh- I carried you here."

Oh. Oh- Oh- Holy shit. 

Will blinked, letting the news simmer in his chest, blooming a new fire within his heart. One that travelled up his neck and face, staining him a deep red. The sparks flew up his throat, leaving the dryness in control. All he could spew out was a small - "Oh."

Mike nodded, looking something between outright proud and ashamed. "I just wanted to get us out of plain sight, and you weren't waking up, so.."

"How long have I been out?"

Mike turned his wrist, staring at his watch. Noticing the pained expression on his face, Will lifted his own wrist, ignoring the ache that came with it. The damp sleeve shimmied down his forearm, revealing the matching watch he had never taken off since the day he got it.

It was broken, showing a time of '12:47', the time they left Hawkins.

Mike turned back to him, eyes squinting slightly. "If I had to guess, I'd say maybe an hour or so?"

"Shit."

The other boy snorted, letting a smile grace his tense features. Will couldn't help but mirror it.

Well, until the situation came crashing down on Mike like a house.

"Oh, one more thing."

Will turned his head. "Hm?"

"The gate closed behind us."

Chapter Text

“Mike- No!”

Robin doesn’t think she’s heard anyone scream that loud in her life. Let alone Nancy Wheeler.

She’s sat on the mud with Steve, Lucas and Dustin, all pausing their Molotov crafting the moment the noise reaches their ears. They look up in sync, barely registering the splash of the water and a lack of one Will Byers and one Mike Wheeler.

Nancy is on her knees, gun forgotten as she screams, peering over the dock edge. Jonathan is rolling himself back up off his back, seemingly having been knocked over by something.

Lucas must realise what’s happening before everyone else because he stands up in record speed with a “Holy shit” leaving his mouth in one panicked breath.

Nancy is taking off her jacket before Steve has even finished picking up his bat, ignoring Jonathan’s confused whispers. Robin watches as she jumps into the water, leaving nothing but a splash of the water once more.

Her stomach begins churning, blood rushing to her head as Steve follows, jumping in after Nancy. Quickly, it comes together. Mike must’ve fallen in with Will.

Dustin stands in silence, his eyes wide and unfocused, like he can’t believe what’s just happened. Robin’s feet pace, leaving footprints behind her as her body continues on a panicking, spiralling loop. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”

After far, far too long, two heads pop up out of the water, their mouths open as they both gasp for breath. Jonathan pulls Nancy out of the water as Steve climbs back up, everyone now rushing over to them.

Nancy is shaking, being cradled in Jonathan’s arms. Her mouth is moving, stuttering out sobs and ineligible words. “The gate- Mike – Oh, God.”

Robin crouches down next to Steve, handing him the coat he discarded 3 minutes prior. Slowly, Steve begins to speak.

“The gate closed. They went in.”

She thinks she could pinpoint the moment Lucas and Dustin realised.

Dustin spoke, rushed and tense. “Wait- did Mike-“

Jonathan cut him off with a grunt. “Yeah. Kid pushed me before falling in with him.”

Words fail her, the air now feeling much heavier than it did a few minutes ago. It’s too quiet, with Nancy’s cries now filling the area where screams were. It’s almost haunting how quickly things have changed. Like the ghosts of the two were so close, just out of reach. In a way, they are.

She’s not sure if that fact makes her want to be sick or not.

The situation dawns on her and everyone else not long after.

Mike and Will were in the upside down. Will is also most likely injured. The gate is closed and they have no idea if they can get to them or get them out. Joyce doesn’t know. Hopper doesn’t know. El doesn’t know. Shit.

“We gotta tell the other 3.”

Dustin nods, picking up his walkie and sending out a quick message. “Joyce, El, Hop, do you copy? This is important. Over.”

A few moments of silence pass the group by, panic rising within them with each one. Nancy’s breaths have slowed, eyes holding hope and hurt. Robin grows a little impatient, about to tell Dustin to buzz again when a low static crackles through.

“-eah. We copy. Over.” It’s Joyce.

Quite possibly the worst person that could’ve picked up is the one who answers. Jonathan takes a deep breath before holding out a hand, likely wanting to tell his mother himself.

Dustin hands it over, giving him a pained smile as support as the explanation begins.

His voice is small, fragile and wavering. It seems weak and hollow, like it hasn’t even fully registered yet. “Mom- Will..” He trails off, closing his eyes for a moment before continuing.

“Will and Mike went through the gate, it closed behind them.” 

Joyce’s frantic voice came barrelling through seconds later, asking a plethora of questions that Robin can’t keep up with. Suddenly, Hopper’s voice booms across the waves. “Wheeler went through?”

Faintly, Robin is sure she can hear a small squeak from someone in the back, likely El.

Jonathan nods, “Yeah. He pushed me and went in with him.”

Nancy intakes a sharp breath, shutting her eyes tight. Discomfort, pity and guilt buried itself deep into Robin’s stomach.

She didn’t know Mike well, but over the last few weeks, her and Will had gotten quite close. They had been put on a mission together, enjoying their dynamic of Robin ‘speaks without thinking’ Buckley and Will ‘thinks without speaking’ Byers.

Of course, their shared love preferences had also been quite prevalent for this bond. They found each other comforting, reminding them that they weren’t alone in this, no matter how bad it can be.

Hawkins wasn’t the nicest place to be for people like them in the best of times, let alone the worst. And right now? It was the absolute worst.

Hellfire remained a talking point for the people, hunted and claimed a curse. A group of evil conspirators and murderers led by deceased Eddie Munson. Mike, Lucas and Dustin have all been receiving the aftermath of these accusations for the last year or so, fighting back the fear when one too many threats are spit at them against the lockers. Vaguely, she remembers Will and Lucas coming to the radio station with battered knuckles and small cuts sprinkled across their faces, muttering something about having enough of their torment.

The entire party was shocked that day, less at Lucas and more at Will. More so when they found out it was Will who had executed the first hit.

Will could stand up for himself, and maybe that’s what led him to falling victim to the Upside Down once more.

Robin’s inability to do something in time sat in her chest, suffocating and heavy. She recalled her own time in the Upside Down, imaging Will in her spot. Nausea rose within her stomach, bile worming it’s way to the back of her throat. Chills settled along her back, her unease growing with every word the talkie crackled out.

She spared a glance at the water’s surface, now glistening in the moonlight, the red glow no longer visible to anyone looking. Quietly, she spoke to it. “I’m so sorry.”

-

“So, any other ideas?”

Mike looked up from his lap, eyes comfortably resting on Will. “Hm?”

Will threw him a sideways glance, smiling lightly. “Did you listen to a word I just said?”

Did he?  “Yeah. For sure.”

“What did I say then?”

Shit. Will crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow while looking down on Mike. He already knew Mike was bullshitting, he was just trying to get him to admit it. If he wasn’t so damn cold or terrified, maybe Mike would’ve put up more of a fight to his teasing. But alas, he resigned.

“No idea. Rewind.”

A roll of hazel eyes. “I was explaining that we could go look at other gate locations. Like the trailer park or the road. While you were zoned out I found Lucas’ radio so we could try and signal the others too. Which, brings me back to my first point. Any other ideas?”

Mike looked out the window beside him, jumping at the crackle of red lightning. He took in a deep breath before replying. “Would the signal even reach?”

Will sat down beside him, the floorboards creaking in tandem with the boys grunt of pain from his injury. “Worth a try, right?”

Mike didn’t miss how the light of hope Will usually held in his eyes seemed to be so dim. He didn’t miss how his voice was strained and laced with forced happiness. He didn’t miss how they both knew it would never work.

“Worth a try.”