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“Some minds, it turns out… Simply do not belong in this world.”
Memories flashed through Will’s head. The feelings that came along with them were tainted with loneliness and anger. His body was completely overtaken by this foul being, and his mind was slowly being consumed along with it.
Will couldn’t help but think Vecna was right; all Will had known his whole life was to be some sort of outcast. He never had an easy time making friends when he was little. When he miraculously found the Party, there were times when he didn’t feel that way, but it never seemed to last long. With everyone going on their own path, even when they were still technically together, Will still didn’t belong.
Of course, he didn’t belong.
There was a sickness in him that grew like an invasive weed. No matter how many times he tried to crawl out of his skin, to leave his skeleton behind him, it was to no avail. The thought of having been stolen from your home, from the only place you’ve ever known, from the safety of the people you felt as comfortable as you could wasn’t even the worst of it.
Apart from the powerful world revealed to him at such a young age, there was another sickness; something more innate.
The car ride. His confession that bled through using Eleven as a projector.
Different.
A mistake.
“They belong in mine.”
He felt a coldness shoot up his spine, remembering being stuck in the Upside Down. Will remembered it in too much detail– at least the parts where he was awake. Not being in control of his body and not knowing what was happening to him as he was unconscious scared him enough to make him nauseous. He never knew what was going to be happening to him when he woke up next.
As fast as the thought rushed through his scrambled brain, he was released. It was like a hand was abruptly removed from his throat, and he had no other choice but to fall to his knees.
But there were other choices. With Vecna out of his skull, Will was able to escape the dreadful feeling of being unloved and useless. Will had friends. He had the Party. He had his mom. His brother.
Will felt a surge of energy pulse through his body, and he was thrown into the Hivemind.
He– no, the demogorgon– was charging towards Robin. It was charging towards Lucas.
It was charging towards Mike.
The swingset creaked as Will swung on it. The other kids were sprinkled around the playground, as per usual. He let the breeze ruffle his hair as he watched the other kids play. He had been trying to count the blades of grass that circled the legs of the swingset, but he always lost count. There was so much grass everywhere. How many blades of grass were there in the world? Will thought about a big machine he could make that could take any patch of grass and somehow calculate the amount of grass in the whole world.
Jonathan would help him build anything. His big brother had been brainstorming about bringing his castle to life, and Will couldn’t help but feel giddy about it. In Castle Byers, Will didn’t need to have friends. He had the trees, the bunnies, the crickets, and (of course) his big brother.
How much grass would he be accidentally killing in the process of making Castle Byers? He didn’t want to kill anything, even if it were just blades of grass.
The pattern of the creaks the swingset would make changed, and as he turned his head, his eyes met another boy on the swing next to him. The fear that this could be someone mean dissipated as the other gave him a warm smile.
“Do you want to be friends?” The other boy asked, looking at him hopefully.
Will had never had anybody make an effort to talk to him outside of his mom and brother. He nodded at the other boy, and he smiled back at him. He was proud to have a best friend.
The D&D set that Mike got as a gift turned into Mike and Will’s gift. The two would get lost in their world of fantasy for as long as their parents would let them. It was not Will’s first taste of magic, thank you very much. He had always concocted storylines and inventions and monsters, even before this was introduced.
It was wonderful to share the whimsical feeling with someone who made him feel safe and wanted for the first time. Mike read out the rules, memorizing the technicalities while Will passionately acted out whatever he could.
Will loved drawing things about D&D for Mike so that he knew they were both envisioning the same thing, all the way down to the specific crayon color. Most of the time, they weren’t accurate to the game, but they were prized possessions for Mike. Mike was always proud of what Will was able to create.
The official building plans for Castle Byers didn’t start until Will picked out the best spot for it in the woods. He deliberately chose a spot that was mostly fallen leaves and branches; no grass. Will would carry small branches over, and Jonathan would thank him for his help. His big brother was so proud of him.
“You’re so strong already, you might carry more logs than I can!” Jonathan would say as he graciously took the branches.
Jonathan would put them into their own pile for Will to decorate the castle with while he brought Will’s dream home to life. His mom was so proud of them both.
Proud.
Will could be proud if he tried. There were many choices he could make in life, but right then, he needed to choose to be something. He could either let himself see his friends be terrified and ripped apart, or he could save them. Simple as that.
However, it was not that simple. Will felt like his whole body was bruised after being directly in Vecna’s grasp. He felt like all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and cry. He wanted his mom there to hold him as he wept.
Will saw the fear in everyone’s eyes and knew it well. He wouldn’t let them be alone in that fear.
With all of his might, he battled inside his own head, untangling himself from the Hivemind. It was like falling through some sort of interdimensional limbo with a symbiote alien attached to you. He felt overwhelmingly hot, and it was getting harder to grasp onto the parts that he needed to use to organize his thoughts from the Hivemind.
Robin looked like she could give up.
Lucas was on the ground, bracing for impact.
Mike flinched in anticipation of pain.
With his mind, he halted the demogorgons. He could only imagine they were feeling how he felt when being close to being strangled by Vecna. Will could feel each one of their minds writhing to get out of the hold he had them bound in. He would not let his friends be scared like he was if he could control it.
Anger fueled his actions, tearing the demogorgons up high. Will wanted to make sure that if he had the power to control it, his friends would stay protected forever. Waves that felt like electric shocks flowed through him, and with every feeling, one of the demogorgon’s limbs was snapped. Because he was still a part of the Hivemind at some capacity, he could feel his own bones become sore at the crunch of theirs, but he ignored it. He snapped their necks, and he dropped to his knees as they all fell.
Will felt the most powerful he’d ever felt before. He didn’t immediately start crying or looking for his mom to hold him. He wiped the blood dripping from his nose and glanced down at his own hands.
He felt so powerful, but his body hurt so fucking bad.
His mind was still loud, the electricity still pumping through his veins as he felt his mom and Mike run up to either side of him. His mom had a hand on his back and was talking, probably asking if he was okay.
Mike was kneeling in front of him, hand on Will’s shoulder. Will appreciated that he didn’t say anything, because Will would want to respond to Mike, but everything felt fuzzy. The ringing in his ears stopped as Joyce said something about needing to go, and they both hoisted Will off the ground and started running as the children followed.
“Take the kids to where they need to be, let me take Will somewhere safe,” Joyce said with worry painting over her features.
Mike’s hand tightened around Will’s ribcage as he said, “The kids will feel safer with you than they will with me. I can stay with him, we’ll follow right behind you.”
Joyce made a sound of protest, “I need to keep my boy safe, Mike. Take the kids.”
“Mom, he’s right. We’ll be behind you,” Will forced out. Using his throat didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. He met his mom’s eyes, which were overflowing with concern and reluctance. “Trust me?”
With that, Joyce complied, likely due to the lack of amount of time they had to make a decision. She called the kids, telling them to go with her. They immediately flocked behind her, and they started heading away.
Will had his arm around Mike’s shoulders, and Mike had ahold of his wrist, but let go of it to turn in front of him and land it on his other arm. They were both breathing heavily due to the stress and running.
“Will, you okay? Do you need a break or something?” Mike hurriedly asked.
Will shook his head, looking at the boy in front of him. He ignored the fact that he wanted to lean into the other boy’s touch, believing that it was all that would be needed to take the aches away. Mike only nodded, going right back to his side, ready to help Will get to where they needed to go. They started moving, following in Joyce’s steps.
“I’m okay, Mike. I think I can walk on my own, you don’t have to help me,” Will said, guiltily. He was so full of thoughts that he wanted to shove deep, down inside of him, hide the box, and throw the key into the ocean. He couldn’t let something slip, not now.
Mike stopped them unexpectedly. “You just saved my life. I saw you, Will. You had powers.”
“Doesn’t that mean I could probably walk on my own, then?”
“Your hands are shaking. Let me help you.”
Will didn’t know what felt better: being able to save his friends or having the person he’d yearned for to hold him like this, if you could even count it as that. Maybe Vecna was right. Will was a weak, weak person. Only it was because he could not protest to put distance between them.
They trailed behind Joyce and the children for a good while before they heard vehicles moving from where they had come from again. It felt like anything they did, it would somehow find a way to always go wrong again. They were in the woods, giving them a sense of security, until they could see spotlights being used to try and search for the people who had run off with the children.
The two looked at each other, then frantically moved to find a place to hide. The woods were getting denser, making it harder to move around in, but also hopefully easier to find a spot to hide in. The sound of motors grew, and almost miraculously, Will saw a ditch that had an uprooted tree over it, making a slightly enclosed space. He tugged Mike down into the ditch with him, and the lights flashed dangerously close to them.
The two scrambled, Will rolling onto his back underneath the tree, scooting backwards until he was leaning against the part of the ditch that was covered by the upturned roots. Mike was still only halfway under the tree, and with a screech of tires, Will grabbed Mike’s arms and pulled him practically on top of him. The space under the tree was small, barely meant for one lanky boy, let alone two. It was the only way they wouldn’t be spotted.
Mike’s arms landed on either side of Will, and their legs had no choice but to be intertwined. Will held onto Mike’s upper arms, and he clamped his eyes shut.
“Am I hurti–” Mike’s question was quickly muffled by Will’s hand coming up to cover the other boy’s mouth. Will could barely focus on anything but Mike, but this was not the time. He needed to hear what was going on.
The two didn’t move for what felt like forever, holding their breaths and listening to the sound of trucks go by. At some point, Will opened his eyes, turning his head away from Mike’s because he knew he had to look for the flashing of lights, not look at whatever stupid glow he swore Mike had in his eyes. Stupid, stupid bright eyes.
The sounds got far away and, thankfully, they were not going in the direction that Joyce and the children had gone in. The woods only had so many paths suitable for vehicles, and nobody would be dumb enough to go with a plan where they followed any marked path.
As the sounds got farther and farther into the distance, Mike shifted enough to make Will realize he still had his hand over Mike’s mouth. He brought his hand down as if it burned him to have had it there anyway. They both let out a huge breath of relief at having not been caught. Mike hung his head as he breathed, almost resting on Will’s chest, but Mike was still holding himself up. Will let his hand loosen from Mike’s upper arm, and it dropped down over Mike’s.
The two boys looked at each other, Will barely able to see Mike’s features. Mike could see Will, face illuminated by the moonlight. They both didn’t say anything for a few seconds, just breathing in each other’s air with the tension leaving their bodies.
Finally, Mike started to roll to the side of Will, letting their hands that were resting against each other stay that way. As he separated their legs, Will winced at the movement. He’d accidentally hit where one of the legs of the demogorgons was snapped, an extra sore spot.
Mike laid a hand over Will’s knee and asked with mild alarm, “Did I hurt you?”
Will shook his head reassuringly. “We should go, Mike,” he said just above a whisper.
“You can tell me if something’s wrong, you know.”
“Nothing is wrong, we need to go.”
As Will started to move, Mike pressed down on his knee with his fingertips. Even though it was just slight pressure, it made Will stop moving and grimace again.
“You’re hurting,” Mike stated, retracting his hand.
“We don’t have time to deal with that. I'll be fine, I always am. We have to leave, now,” Will pleaded. He couldn’t be this close to Mike with him looking at him like that for any longer. He chose to ignore the look that Mike gave him, and he was getting helped up off the ground.
The travel back was quiet. Mike kept supporting Will, but he was soft with his movements, and he kept checking to see if the other boy was okay. It was driving Will crazy. He couldn’t help but lean into him.
Weak.
Eventually, Mike and Will ended up at the radio station. Joyce had used a walkie to let them know the kids were safe and begged to hear Will’s voice to prove he was okay. She told them to stay put until the others got back there.
For once, they were doing what they were told. The two found themselves in the lounge area, unable to sit still.
“I hate waiting and doing nothing. It’s all I’ve been doing,” Will huffed. He looked down at his shoes and crossed his arms.
“Maybe, for once, you shouldn’t fight it,” Mike said. They were both on the couch, sitting at opposite ends.
Will shook his head. “For once, I can actually do something. I can help now.”
“You’ve always been able to help,” Mike countered. He looked slightly offended.
Will sighed, “Not like El.”
“You’re not El, it’s not the same with you.”
Will tried not to compare himself to others, but it was hard when Eleven was the one to get everything he had ever wanted. Not that he’d ever want to admit that. Recently, Mike and El hadn’t been spending much time together, probably because of all the training she was doing. Either way, Will was unable to resist the satisfaction it brought him. It was a little odd, seeing as the two were finally in the same area again, but they didn't actually do a lot together. They didn't even really talk too much over the past year.
Mike shifted in his spot, turning to face Will more before saying, “You know, El and I have kinda taken a break.”
Oh. This was news to him. Mike looked like he didn't want to elaborate on the point, avoiding Will's eyes. He looked like he forced the words out of him, needing to get them off his chest but not necessarily comfortable with the conversation that would come with it. “Are you guys okay?” Will asked carefully. He didn’t want to pry if Mike didn't want to give.
Mike looked from the floor to the ceiling, back to the floor, over to the opposite wall, before explaining, “Our hearts aren’t in it anymore.”
So that was that. Before Will could collect words to reply to him, Mike began, “Do you still…”
Will raised an eyebrow at him, urging him to continue.
“Hurt?”
Will looked down, wanting to avoid the question. He was so tired of being helpless. He wanted to be one of the strong ones. It was always people being concerned about him, and he was getting sick of it. He really could handle himself.
“What hurts the most?”
You couldn’t imagine.
My self-hatred.
You.
Instead of answering, Will just rubbed his hand over his neck and shoulder. Snapping the demogorgon's necks felt like he was voluntarily snapping his own, but without really doing it, of course.
The way Will shivered as Mike’s hand found its way to Will’s shoulder was downright embarrassing. It took force not to let out an audible breath.
“Here?” Mike asked, tentatively.
And Will really was a weak person. He rationalized that anybody would be out of their mind to not indulge in this, as it’s been offered so kindly to him. Mike’s hands were on Will’s shoulders, gently pressing, releasing, and pressing again. He worked his way down to his arms, finding the spots where it really hurt.
When Will winced, Mike asked, “Do you want me to stop?”
After a beat, Will moved himself backwards, closer to Mike. Will’s back was almost touching the other’s chest. Mike figured that was his answer and continued to gently feel Will’s arms, just giving him whispers of pressure, not wanting to do too much.
He moved from one arm to the next, now working on his left arm. Will thought he was going to explode with the warm contact of Mike’s hands on him. Not to mention, Mike’s elbow kept bumping into his side, and he could feel his body heat radiating off of him.
It went on like that for a few minutes, neither saying anything. It was slightly awkward how Mike sometimes didn’t know what to do, but his goal stayed true. Will wouldn’t have had it any other way, either.
Mike’s hands drifted up his arm, back over his shoulders, and to his neck. It was natural for Will to just tilt his head back slightly in response to the contact. He let his eyes drift shut, and he envisioned what this would look like if someone walked in on them.
What would somebody think about two boys being so close together? Touching the other like this? There wasn’t even anything wrong with this, but what did it mean?
Will remembered Robin saying something about little touches being some sort of sign.
“Mike,” Will said, voice in a low whisper.
His hands stopped moving. “Yes?”
“Stop touching me.”
The warmth of Mike’s hands was gone, and Will knew he was concerned he’d done something wrong. They didn’t do things like this. Yeah, maybe a small touch of acknowledgment here and there, a playful punch in the arm; but this? This felt more… something. Will didn’t have the guts to give it a name. Interrupting it felt like he’d never get it back. He dared to test it.
“Did I do something wr—“
“Put them back.”
There was only a second of hesitation, and Mike was sure to be confused as to what was going on inside Will’s brain. To be fair, Will didn’t know what was going on in his own brain. He liked that Mike listened to him, though. There were so many times when Will felt he’d never have any control over what would happen to him. He liked that he had a say in it with Mike.
Will could feel that Mike was now tense, no longer relaxed in the silence they’d had moments prior. Will figured they would probably never know what was going on in each other's heads.
“Do you remember the painting I gave you?” Will asked, still quiet.
Mike was very aware of how he could feel Will’s throat vibrate as he talked. “Yeah, of course?”
Choices, choices, choices. “El didn’t commission it.”
Will felt Mike’s hands pause, but then resume what he was doing. Mike tried not to think about being able to feel Will’s increasing pulse under his middle finger from how his hands were splayed on either side of his neck.
Will sighed, head still tilted back. He turned his head to the side, looking at Mike. He was sitting just slightly to the side, so turning his head put them almost dangerously close.
It felt like such an intimate moment. Their faces were so close together that they could feel each other’s breath on the other's face. Mike stopped moving his hands and kept them still on Will’s neck. It felt like that was the only thing holding Will together– that, and Mike’s gaze on him. It felt surreal.
“I gave you that heart on the shield for a reason,” Will spoke, drinking in the way that Mike was looking at him. This couldn’t be real. It had to be some sort of dream.
Mike didn’t move. He didn’t look like he wanted to. His eyebrows were drawn together, and his eyes went slightly wide, but he didn’t pull away even though Will could’ve sworn he wanted to. This was uncharted territory for both of them. Mike wasn’t good at showing affection, not through touch, anyway. Will never let these feelings surface, not enough for them to leave his lips, especially not enough for them to be heard by the one who wielded the power to crush his heart.
“Do you understand what I’m telling you, Mike?”
When Mike did not attempt to say anything or do anything, Will couldn’t help but feel frustrated. He could punch him. He could kiss him.
Mike’s eyes glanced down to Will’s lips, and then he backed up almost an unnoticeable amount. Not unnoticeable enough for Will to miss. His heart was crushed in the matter of a mere movement. Of course, he wouldn’t be stabbed. Of course, he wouldn’t be shot. It was nothing violent. Will would’ve preferred violence over this agonizing experience, where one small shift in Mike’s body was the thing that killed him.
As Will was about to fully give up on Mike’s incompetence and move out from under his palms, figuring there was no hope, and either Mike was completely oblivious or he was disgusted by what Will was insinuating (both were terrible choices; however, he wished it would be the first option), Mike’s hands got heavier on him. He didn’t tighten his grip; he didn’t force Will to stay there as Vecna always had done. It was simply a question.
Stay, please?
He stopped pulling away.
“You weren’t talking about El in the car ride when you were explaining the painting, then, were you?” Mike finally asked.
“It never had anything to do with El,” Will explained. There were so many things that could go wrong right now, but he decided not to dwell on that.
Mike nodded, looking down at the floor. “Does that mean…? Tell me what you mean. Please?”
“Mike, you’re so… You’re really gonna make me say it out loud?” Will was practically begging inside his mind for Mike to just understand. For Mike to just put it together himself and know what Will was trying to say.
“If I’m wrong, I’ll never forgive myself,” Mike confessed. Will was so confused, but he was growing increasingly impatient with the weight of Mike’s hands still delicately on Will.
“Do you need me to spell it out for you? I’m in love with you,” Will was on the cusp of shattering and was, to put it simply, really over dancing around the topic. If Mike was going to have his fingertips in the divots of his throat, lying right on his arteries, Will couldn’t take being in the dark anymore about this.
Mike was back in Will’s space, minimizing the distance that had been created when he leaned back earlier. He was even closer now, and he moved one hand up to hold Will’s jaw. They both knew what the other wanted; it was just whether they’d believe it.
Mike suddenly inhaled sharply, “I have to be sure, you mean you’re in love love with me, or you just really li–”
“Please, stop talking,” Will insisted as he turned his torso a bit so that he could easily press into Mike. The leftover distance was finally closed between them, Mike’s brain definitely taking a second to catch up before realizing that yes, this is what he meant!
Will held onto Mike with fervor, not wanting to pass up a time when he could unashamedly feel the other under his palms in case he never got this opportunity again. Mike was still holding Will with a feather-light touch, in hopes not to scare him away. It didn’t take them long, however, to realize that they were not going to be going anywhere any time soon. They were able to relax into each other, Mike realizing that he wasn’t making Will uncomfortable in any way.
Will pulled back first, holding Mike’s face in his hands. “You idiot.”
Mike smiled as if he had just come across something magical– maybe he did.