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Mike is so tired, and yet he refuses to let himself fall asleep. He lies on Will's bedroom floor, wrapped in his sleeping bed. It's late, well after midnight. If it were a school night, he'd be worried. But it's not, and Ms Byers always lets them sleep in on the weekends. So he's content to lie on the floor, staring at the ceiling and listening to Will's steady breathing.
There's an edge to Will's breathing. It's not too obvious to anyone who's not listening for it. But it's there. Just the slightest of wheezing with every steady breath Will takes. It's been that way since Will got back from the upside-down. When Mike pointed it out to Ms Byers, she said it was just a side effect of what Will went through. She said it would fade with time. At least according to the doctors.
Mike doesn't like Will's doctors. He's never met them, but Will's told him about them. Not a lot, but enough. They poke and prod, press for answers where he has none, push aside concerns that Mike thinks are perfectly rational. So Mike doesn't like them. Doesn't trust them, but he hopes, for Will's sake, that they're right this time.
He blinks at the ceiling, turning his head to the side and catching a glimpse of the nightlight tucked in the corner. Will hadn't used a nightlight since they were nine years old, neither had Mike, but since being back, he hates the dark. He hates the dark and the cold. So Ms Byers got him a nightlight. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas gave him extra blankets to sleep under. Which is good. Winter has arrived, and the temperature has dropped; they all want Will to stay warm.
Mike doesn't think Will should ever have to be anything but warm and comfortable ever again.
Above him, Will makes a noise. It's a soft, scared noise. Mike stills, listening intently, until Will makes another noise. He sits up, peering over the edge of the bed to where Will sleeps. Will's body is turned towards Mike, his head tilted into his pillow, and his bangs lying in front of his eyes and splayed across the pillow. His nose scrunches and his eyebrows furrow as he makes another quiet noise. Mike wants to reach out. Wants to push his eyebrows out of his face and smooth the wrinkle between his brows.
He doesn't, though. Instead, he watches. Listens as Will's breathing gets heavier, his noises get more frequent and distress. Will turns onto his back, tossing and turning and mumbling under his breath.
"Will?" He calls, shuffling out of his sleeping bag.
He doesn't get a response. He stands up, leaning closer to Will over the edge of the bed.
"Will?" He says, louder this time, hoping his volume and closeness will wake the other boy up this time.
Unfortunately, Will still doesn't wake. Just continues mumbling in his sleep. He turns himself over, wrapping himself in his blankets. Once he's trapped, his thrashing grows in urgency as he tries to untangle himself, and his cries get louder.
Mike feels tears spring to his eyes as he watches Will struggle. He crawls onto the bed, kneeling next to Will.
"Will!" He cries, voice cracking.
He hesitates for a moment before reaching out.
"Will!" He borderline shouts, shaking his shoulder in a final attempt to wake him.
As he does so, he tells him self that if he doesn't wake up this time, he will go get Ms Byers or Jonathan. Thankfully, this time, Will wakes up with a jolt. He gasps, breathing heavily as he takes in his surroundings. Will's eyes are glazed over as they dart around the room. He blinks when his gaze locks onto Mike.
"Mike?" He croaks, trying to wipe his face.
The movement makes him aware of his blanket entrapment. Panic is clear on his face as he begins trying to get free. Mike moves quickly, helping Will wiggle free.
"Will!" He calls back, voice soft as he helps Will. "Are you okay?" He asks.
Will is sitting up now, rubbing his eyes roughly.
"Mhm! I'm okay!" He tries, but the wetness of his voice and the way he pauses to sniffle give him away.
Mike sits back on his heels, watching Will as he calms himself down. Mike doesn't say anything, doesn't reach out to touch him again, just watches, takes in Will's side profile. The curve of his nose, the cut of his jaw. Will is pretty. It's an odd thought, but not a new one. One of the first things Mike ever thought about Will was how pretty he is. Mike saw him, sitting alone and small on the swings. Mike approached him, asked him to be his friend, and Will looked up at him and said yes. He'd smiled at Mike, small and soft and beautiful. Mike had immediately thought Will was the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. Even more than his mama, which was high praise from five-year-old Mike Wheeler.
He reaches up to wipe his tears, suddenly aware of the way they'd been dripping down his cheeks. The movement catches Will's attention, and he turns to look at him.
"Are you okay?" He asks, voice soft and concerned.
"Yeah, I'm okay," Mike responds, giving him a small smile.
Will does his best to smile back, but the effect falls flat. He turns away from Mike, continuing to look around the room. Mike just keeps looking, looking for signs of what's wrong and hoping the other Will will tell him what his nightmare is about.
He never does, and Mike never pushes.
The two sit there in silence until Will yawns quietly. Mike takes it as a hint to return to his own sleeping bag. He throws his legs over the edge of Will's bed, beginning to slide off and onto the floor. Mike's feet have barely hit the floor when Will grabs at his wrist.
"Wait!"
Mike turns to look at the other boy.
"Could you- uhm-" Will stammers, refusing to meet his eyes.
"Will?" Mike questions, voice quiet and questioning.
Will glances up at him through his eyelashes before quickly looking away again.
"Could you- could you stay up here? With me?" He finally stutters out.
Mike doesn't respond, the shock making the words die in his throat.
"Never mind, that was a dumb thing to ask-" Will says, releasing his grip on Mike like it burned him.
"Will," Mike begins, Will's stammering knocking him back into motion, he grabs Will's hand again. "Yeah, I can do that. It'll be like when we were little!" Mike smiles at him.
Will finally looks at him, smiling back. Mike crawls back onto the bed, waiting as Will shuffles backwards to make room. When there's room, he pulls back the covers and crawls underneath them to lie down next to him. He gets comfortable, closing his eyes and waiting for Will to lie down with him. There are a few beats of silence, of Will not moving, before Mike opens his eyes again to look up at Will.
He's not entirely shocked to see the other boy already looking back at him, but he doesn't mention it. Instead, he just pats the empty space next to him. Will takes another beat to look at him before he lies down, leaving a bit of space between them. Mike watches as he gets comfortable, tugging the blanket up over his shoulders and nuzzling his head into his pillow.
Mike reaches a hand out, nudging Will's with his own where it rests on Will's pillow. Mike feels Will's hand twitch, feels the hesitation, before his fingers unfold and slot into his own. Mike squeezes, gently, just once, and Will lets out a soft sigh through his nose, squeezing back as his eyes flutter shut.
It's only a few minutes before Will drifts off to sleep, his grip on Mike's hand growing slack and his breathing evening out, but Mike doesn't sleep. Not yet. He spends at least another hour just watching Will, memorizing the length of his eyelashes and the rhythm of his breathing, before his eyelids are finally too heavy to fight anymore.
Jonathan has always woken up at odd hours of the night. Insomnia combined with late night shifts combined with the trauma of the last several months has left his sleep schedule in a somehow more fucked up state than usual.
So it's not a shock when he wakes up and checks his alarm clock, only to see it's three in the morning. He hefts himself out of bed, dragging himself to go to the bathroom and maybe get a drink.
When he returns to his room, he goes to open his door only to stop. He turns to face Will's door, hesitating before stepping forward to it. He pushes it open, carefully and quietly, peaking inside.
His eyes first drop to the floor, where he knew Mike was sleeping for the night, only for a flash of panic to ebb in his chest when he finds the spot empty. His eyes dart to the bed, and he relaxes when he sees Mike and Will curled together in the bed.
It's a mess of limbs and blankets; Jonathan truly can't tell where one body ends and one begins. He has to hold back a laugh when Mike snores, loud and open-mouthed, and Will grumbles in response.
He watches the sight for a moment before backing out, closing the door behind him, and returning to bed.