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2025-11-29
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I've Been Lost Without a Trace

Summary:

Will glances away first before laughing weakly, grabbing a small stick and twirling it in the dirt, “I don’t even really know how I did it, Mike.”

I immediately feel my face scrunch up in disbelief, “Right now it doesn’t matter how you did it, okay? You did it. You did it—"

OR

Mike and Will share a much needed conversation after Episode 4.

Notes:

I'm quite literally crashing out about the possibilities of Byler becoming canon (they're genuinely all I think about, it's almost debilitating).

Anyways! The title is a partial lyric from The Police's iconic "Every Breath You Take"

Work Text:

I used to think that you’d be winded after battle.

Whenever we’d (The Party) get too immersed in a D&D session and we realized that it was far, far too late to be playing, fearing consequences like periods of time without D&D, I’d abruptly end the session by justifying that the day (maybe even days in our minds) were momentarily concluding due to our characters feelings of pure exhaustion. I used to imagine that after long periods of scheming and fighting that you’d be tired, but I was wrong.

That feeling of exhaustion comes later in moments that you wouldn’t expect.

Once we got back from California, the first few days after the Earth literally split, everything felt fine. It wasn’t until school started back up that I began feeling it.

While I’m known for not necessarily being the most punctual (Nancy reiterates this sentiment every summer before school starts back up), the bone deep exhaustion mixed with said poor time management creates something else entirely that is somehow worse.

Simple experiences like hearing the bell ring and walking to class become inexplicably treacherous. Things that should be simple, things that are simple for everyone else, suddenly become difficult. I literally have to force myself forward with every single step, ignoring the feeling of quicksand forming in my legs and the siren sound blaring from the hallway school bell.

I was so, so wrong about being winded after battle. No, after battle you’re wired in a way that feels too disturbing to describe. It’s the moments long afterwards, when you’re pretending to be normal, that exhaust you. No, after battle you're still way too acutely aware of possible dangers to let yourself really feel it.

You can’t feel tired when you’re under attack. So, I guess that’s a fun cheat code to life. Just constantly remain on high alert, all of the time, and you never have to deal with experiencing any other emotion.

That’s how I feel right now at least. I can practically feel my heart beat outside of my body and I can somehow hear my heart in my ears. I am so aware of everything happening right now to the point where Joyce’s words, her words that feel oddly far away, suggesting sleep sounds beyond ridiculous.

I can practically feel my heart pumping blood throughout my body, starting at my torso and working its way through my limbs. I need to move somehow, stay ready and ignore the itch crawling under my skin. I begin to bounce my leg up and down and just stare at the chipped wooden floor beneath my feet.

Our backup plan, because we actually made one this time, unlike last time and actually because of last time going wrong (Hopper ending up alone in the Upside Down), consisted of us all meeting in Hopper’s cabin.

We all, well, besides Hopper and El along with everyone else in the Upside Down, ended up reuniting here within an hour or so of each other after everything.

When that Demogorgon made its way towards me, I thought that we were all dead. Just like that. We were all mentally and physically present one moment and then were about to just be physically present in the next, but death took too long.

When I’d glanced up expecting my final moments, I saw the Demogorgon suspended in the air. At first I thought that it was some cruel sick and demented trick from Vecna, making me see something that wasn’t really there, prolonging my misery, but then I saw Will.

He looked… focused. I’ve only seen that determined expression on his face when he’s been super close to finishing a painting or drawing and describing how “it was missing something” even though to me it looked great.

Seeing him with such fierceness in a setting where he wasn’t tucked away felt new. I’d never seen him so brazenly determined. I then saw him Vecna the Demogorgon like it was nothing. Like he’d done it hundreds of times, and I can’t lie, I was awestruck.

While he looked different, he also somehow still looked like himself. He honestly looked like how I’ve always seen him. He looked like Will the Wise.

Maybe now everyone else will view him how I view him. I don’t know.

I’m suddenly jolted from my thoughts and immediately brought back to reality by the feeling of someone’s hand on my left shoulder. My knee is still bouncing and my heart is still pounding, but when I glance up I notice that it’s just Will.

I didn’t see or hear the others leave the room. I didn’t really notice anything. I need to get my shit together. I may not be tired but I’m of no use to anyone when I can’t focus.

Fuck, I still haven’t even said anything. Will’s just standing next to me while I’m sitting on this stupid flimsy chair. I quickly clear my throat, aiming for nonchalance, but my voice instead sounds unsteady, “Will, hey.”

He nods his head slightly, his hair slightly tousled from earlier and smiles gently, “Hey, Mike.”

He looks like he wants to say more, but he stops himself before continuing, “Everyone’s going to try to get some rest—”

I don’t mean to audibly scoff, but my brain to mouth filter, that’s apparently hanging on by a mere thread at this point, ignores my brain’s attempt.

I abruptly stand and announce in a voice that sounds far too assertive, far too fake, “I’m, uh, going outside.”

I’m already a fast walker, but I hightail it out of there so fast to the point where I almost miss Will’s, “Okay, I’ll join you.”

I hear the front door close behind me and I find a patch of grass that isn’t too littered with bugs before sitting. I begin to play with the blades of grass, yanking them from the ground repeatedly. Will goes to sit to the left of me and as he sits I can feel his arm brush against mine.

I continue aggressively yanking the grass out of the ground by its root and Will follows suit. We sit outside in silence for at least ten minutes and have a decent dead pile of grass forming before I find words leaving my mouth, “You were incredible today.”

Will immediately shifts his gaze from the grass pile towards my face. I can tell that he’s trying to read my facial expression so I let my eyes linger on his, hoping that my face is conveying more than my words.

For a moment, somehow, the blaring sound of my heart quiets to a dull ringing. Will’s always had this magical power over everyone and it just ties into what I said earlier, Will’s magic goes beyond just magic: his powers are innate.

Will, himself, is magical.

Will glances away first before laughing weakly, grabbing a small stick and twirling it in the dirt, “I don’t even really know how I did it, Mike.”

I immediately feel my face scrunch up in disbelief, “Right now it doesn’t matter how you did it, okay? You did it. You did it. You saved us. I mean, El didn’t know how to use her powers right away, but we figured it out as a team. We can figure it out now just like how we did then. As a team. You not knowing how you did it doesn’t change the fact that you did it, Will. Trust me.”

Will looks in my direction and lets out a shaky breath, “How can you be so sure?”

“You’re Will the Wise! Common— you’re incredible. Always. You’ve already survived so much and now you can practically Vecna Demogorgons! How could I not be sure when my certainty lies solely in my belief in you?”

I stop playing with the grass and run my hands through my hair, ignoring the far too kind facial expression forming on Will’s face. The image of Will destroying the Demogorgon is as fresh in my mind as the image of Joyce and I carrying Will’s unconscious body in our arms.

My leg starts bouncing up and down again just at the thought, but I don’t try to completely stop it because Will’s used to my habit of not being able to stay still. It also helps that Will’s awake and next to me, or at least it usually does, but for some reason right now my leg is bouncing even harder than before.

I feel so alive and I’m so aware that Will’s alive to the point where I’m almost shaking.

Fuck, okay, yeah, I still need to appear at least somewhat normal, but before I can even think about what my next attempt at feigning normalcy would be, I feel Will’s hand on my knee and hear the question in his words, “Hey, hey, where’d you just go?”

The soft pressure of his hand on my knee helps me focus on the dirt grass beneath me and the pressure of his body next to mine. My eyes then find his and I immediately notice the faint smile on his face that’s laced with something else.

My go to strategy is always to appear angry before anything even close to sad, hoping that no one will notice that my bark is usually far worse than my bite. I aim for frustration, hoping he’ll change the topic. I even roll my eyes slightly, which, okay, that might be overkill, “I’m right next to you, Will. I didn’t go anywhere.”

Will, unsurprisingly, doesn’t take the bait and continues holding my gaze, “Will, when you were in California, I was miserable. You’re my best friend, and I was just expected and trying to act like everything was the same old same old, but it wasn’t? It fucking wasn’t and I just I— know what you’re capable of and I know that you can stop Vecna, and I just need you to be okay and safe. I need you to stay in Hawkins with me. I just need everything to stop—”

My word vomit is suddenly halted by Will pulling me into a hug. It’s kind of awkward at first because we're both sitting and not facing each other directly, but it doesn't matter because it’s a hug that can only be described as life-altering.

It’s a hug that’s so desperate and so intense that I can’t help but have a hard time breathing. Will’s head is slotted right next to mine and he’s gripping me so tightly to the point where it feels far more intimate than it really is.

I burrow my head into his neck, because apparently my brain to body thinking isn’t working properly either, and I somehow wrap my arms around his waist even tighter.

I can feel Will’s uneven breathing against my ear and I— I don’t know how I managed to survive without him. I don’t know if I can survive without him.

Him willingly becoming my friend in Kindergarten, my best friend, irrevocably changed my life for the better. I don’t know how or who I’d be without him, and truthfully, I never want to find out.

I pull away first and stare into his eyes that look deeper than before, not loosening my grip from his waist, but he speaks first, and I can practically hear his smile, “After all of this is over, I’m holding you to your words, Mike.”

I roll my eyes and playfully hit his shoulder, disentangling us slightly, “I know you will.”

I wouldn’t have it any other way.