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A few weeks before their thirty–seventh crawl went horribly wrong, Mike’s mom had watched him make tea for Will after he’d had a nightmare and sit on the basement sofa with him until Will fell back asleep on Mike’s shoulder. Mike only found out she was watching the next day when she cornered him while he was washing the dishes.
“You always take care of everyone else,” she’d said. “But who takes care of you?”
She was excluding herself, of course. Mike knew she meant that he was the leader of his friends, he always had been. That he would take care of Will and El and Lucas and Dustin and Max until the end of his days. But Mike knows that because she’s his mother, she’ll always be worried about him the most. She’ll always hope that Mike finds a friend to protect him the way he protects them.
But if Mike’s being honest, he’s not sure he needs it. He likes taking care of his friends. He likes that after they broke up, El was finally able to open up to him. He likes that Lucas asks him to come with him to the hospital to visit Max sometimes. He likes that Dustin seeks his company to talk about Eddie.
He likes that Will knocks on his door when he has a nightmare.
And Mike doesn’t really mind that nobody does the same for him. He’s never needed that kind of comfort. He’s always dealt with his problems himself. Whenever he lashed out, it hurt the people around him, and after the second time he hurt Will so irreparably, he decided never again. His problems are only his own, from now on. Nobody needs to know about them. Nobody needs to care about him. And nobody needs to protect him.
It isn’t an ego thing. Mike just doesn’t want anyone to bother worrying about him. Not when everyone else is so much more important than him. Mike just doesn’t need it, not really. He doesn’t need to be given all the effort it takes to truly care for someone.
It’s a conversation Mike completely forgets about until the moment he realizes he’s going to die. It’s after his plan utterly and miserably fails, just like the Crawl did. It’s after the children Mike tried valiantly to protect are dragged away by Vecna, and it’s right after a Demogorgon crawls out of the ground and leaps at him, mutated arm outstretched, claws bared and reaching right for Mike’s heart, poised to kill. There’s no fighting: Mike is going to die.
As his arms come up to shield his face, three things flash through Mike’s mind.
One: he’s never going to know if Holly gets saved from the Upside Down.
Two: he’s never going to know if his parents will be okay.
Three: he’s never going to know what it’s like to be taken care of.
But Mike has shouldered his burdens alone for this long, and he will die the same. So he closes his eyes and waits, wishing pathetically that he was dying in someone else’s arms instead. For a moment he wishes it could’ve been Will’s arms, before he decides he could never put Will through that. And then Mike decides he could never put anyone through that, so it’s better this way, in the end. That he dies alone. God, he hopes Will isn’t watching.
Seconds pass. An invisible clock ticks in Mike’s head. Mike can’t feel anything on him but the wind blowing and the bruising pain of his shoulder. He’s still alive.
Slowly, Mike lowers his arms and opens his eyes, braving the threats of the real world. He finds everything the way he’d left it, even the Demogorgon, still in the same place it had been when Mike closed his eyes and accepted his fate. It hasn’t moved an inch. In fact, Mike realizes as he looks closer, it’s quivering in midair, stopped in its tracks, as if by force. It’s a wondrous thing, knowing he’s been saved by some mysterious power. Although Mike isn’t sure if it is that mysterious. Because if there’s anything Mike knows, it’s the work of a sorcerer.
And sure enough, Mike only has to look a bit ahead and to the left, and there he is. Standing tall, arm outstretched with his palms facing up, eyes a pure, blazing white.
Time stops.
Mike should’ve known Will Byers was never one to let a little effort scare him off.
Mike can’t do anything but watch in awe as Will reaches out his second arm, and then jerks his head back. Mike can’t see any other demogorgons around them, but he’s sure whatever Will is doing with these newfound powers is saving someone else, somewhere out there. A second later Will is bringing his arms down, and Mike hears the snap before he jerks his head up to see it, to watch as every bone in the demogorgon’s body breaks, and it drops to the ground like an egg tossed off a ladder for their eighth grade school project.
It lies there, bloody and mutilated, as dead as Mike had assumed he would be only a few seconds ago, and Mike barely spares it a glance as he watches Will. The world freezes around them, diluting until it’s just Mike and Will, and Mike can’t help the way his mouth drops open as Will’s fists unclench and he falls to his knees. The blood drips out of his nose as he hits the ground, and the white fades out of Will’s eyes as his pupils roll back into place.
Oddly enough, Mike’s first thought is I fucking told you so.
Their eyes lock. Will reaches one hand up, wipes the blood from his upper lip. Even from this far away, Mike can still pinpoint the exact look in Will’s eyes. His expression is something calm, as if whatever just happened was only an inevitability. As if Will’s finally internalized what Mike’s been trying to tell him all along.
Mike watches as Will takes Mike in, that he’s still standing, that Will was the one who saved him. It feels like slow motion, the way Will’s expression changes from his look of acceptance to one of pure, unadulterated panic. Will’s knees buckle, and his arm reaches out, as if he’s trying to get to Mike, and the moment Will starts to fall forward Mike’s feet unbolt from the ground, and he ricochets towards Will like a bullet out of Nancy’s shotgun. Perfectly aimed, fired without a second of hesitation.
“WILL!” Mike calls out as he runs, and he can see the way Will’s fingers curl towards him, clutching onto air as his mouth opens, and Mike has never considered himself a very delusional person, grounded in logic as he is, but he swears he can see Will trying to form the single syllable of Mike’s name. His feet hit the gravel and burst through the flames, and he yells Will’s name again as he finally comes to a stop in front of him. He drops to his knees, uncaring of the way the ground tears his pants open, scratches at his knees, starts to draw blood, because now he’s close enough to put his hands on Will’s shoulders, to look him in the eyes.
“Mike,” Will says, finally, and the word comes out broken. “Mike.”
“Holy shit, Will,” Mike says, too engrossed in his own frantic movements, hands trembling back and forth on Will’s shoulder, feeling the coarse fabric of his shirt, pressing his thumb to the pulse point on Will’s neck just to hear it thrumming, so utterly alive.
“Holy shit, that was incredible,” Mike says again. Will’s eyes are a bright hazel when Mike gazes into them, his own pupils blown wide as he chatters on, the words streaming out of him faster than he can think. “I knew you could do it, Will, I just knew it. I’ve always thought you could’ve had powers, or something, because you’re so much stronger than any interdimensional monster could be, because you’re you, and I was right. You saved me, Will, I mean seriously, I thought I was going to die out there—”
Will lets out a sound, then. A choked, guttural sob. It stops Mike in his tracks.
“Will?”
“Mike, you—you almost died.”
It comes out in that same broken way, a sob rather than a sentence.
“I know,” Mike tells him, squeezing Will’s shoulders. “I know, but you saved me.”
Will lifts his hands off the ground and puts them on either side of Mike’s face, a gesture that in any other scenario would be something they’d both have to unpack, but with everything that’s just happened Will’s warm palms on Mike’s ice–cold cheeks hardly feels like a monumental experience. So Mike lets Will touch, lets him stroke his thumbs back over Mike’s cheekbones, lets Will see for himself that Mike is alive.
“You’re bleeding,” Will says suddenly, brows furrowed in concern. He brings one of his hands up to hover over the cut on Mike’s forehead, eyes big and worried.
“It’s just a cut,” Mike replies, incredulous. “It’s nothing, Will, really.”
“You’re alive,” Will says, and this time it’s wondrous. “I didn’t—I didn’t lose you.”
“You could never lose me,” Mike tells him. And then he amends, “Never again.”
“No,” Will says, putting his hand back on Mike’s cheek, shaking his head so vehemently his hair flies around. He’s still half–sobbing, and Mike doesn’t know what he can do to make it better, he’s so used to always having to to make things better, but somehow letting Will just feel what he’s feeling seems like the best thing to do right now.
“No, Mike, you don’t understand,” Will says. “I saw you, Mike. I saw that Demogorgon, what he was going to do to you, he was going to kill you, and I just—I couldn’t let that happen, Mike. I would’ve done anything to keep you safe.”
“Even unlock superpowers,” Mike whispers, awed.
“It was the easiest thing I’ve ever done,” Will replies. “Because it was for you.”
Mike can’t help it—his mouth drops open. “For…me?”
“A–and Lucas and Robin!” Will says quickly. “I could see through the Demo’s eyes. I knew they were in danger, too. But seeing you right in front of me—if it had been one of them I don’t know if I could’ve—done whatever I just did. So yeah, Mike. It was for you.”
Mike doesn’t know what to say to that. His heart is beating a mile a minute, Will is staring at him like the world is going to end if he takes his eyes off of Mike for one second, there is still a fire raging around them and Joyce passed out on the ground. And Will has just admitted that he unlocked superpowers because Mike was in danger.
His mom’s words ring in his head. Who takes care of you?
Mike looks at Will again, and is struck with the thought that Will is beautiful. Will is beautiful as he stares at Mike, Will was beautiful snapping those Demogorons apart, Will was beautiful when he smiled at Mike on the field, and Will is beautiful when he pulls Mike towards him and presses their foreheads together. All inhibition lost.
“You—” Mike blinks, and tears prickle in his eyes. “You protected me.”
“And I’d do it again,” Will says, something fierce. “I’ll always protect you, Mike.”
Mike has always known Will to be persistent. To be strong, to be brave. Will is everything that Mike is not. Will is everything Mike wishes he could be. Will is the most amazing person Mike knows, whether or not he has powers. Mike has always known that Will is capable of wonders, that Will is capable of protecting Mike, but it had never been a necessity. Mike never expects anything in return, when he keeps Will safe, because Mike took a vow when he was five years old to always protect Will Byers.
And all this time, it turns out Will Byers had made the very same vow to him.
Mike has many things he wants to say to Will. That he’ll always protect Will, too. That everything Mike does is for Will. That Mike has only ever been brave because Will inspires him to become brave. That Mike’s never felt like this about anybody else before, as if he can’t go another second without telling Will how much he loves him—
Oh, Mike realizes then, with Will’s lips inches away from his. I love him.
Mike loves Will the way he’s always wished he could love someone. Mike loves Will the way Nancy loves Jonathan, the way Lucas loves Max. Mike loves Will the way the knight loves the princess in the fairytales he used to read to Will when they were kids because Will loved the funny voices Mike would do. Mike loves Will eternally, innately.
“Will,” Mike says, then, and he’s not sure what he’s going to say next, just that he has to say something, “Will, I—”
“WILL! Will, baby, Oh my God, are you okay?”
Unspoken but understood, Will and Mike pull away from each other in a flash, Mike keeping his hands steady on Will’s shoulders from a farther distance as Joyce runs up to him. She shoots Mike a grateful look, one Mike isn’t sure what to do with now that he’s realized he loves her son so much he would let the Demogorgon take him if it meant Will would be safe and happy. Mike just nods back, and deposits Will into Joyce’s arms.
“I’m okay, Mom,” Will says, and lets Joyce fuss over him, muttering words that filter out of Mike’s ears as he stands up and stares at the pitch black sky. Oddly enough, it’s El who comes to the forefront of Mike’s mind, as he thinks about her fighting for his sister in the Upside Down. They’ve been broken up for months now, and Mike has been grateful for their real, solid friendship like nothing else. He wonders what El would tell him to do, now, if he told her that he was in love with her brother.
In the end, Mike remembers something she’d told him before he left for their thirty–sixth crawl. You deserve your happy ending, too, Mike.
Come home safe, is what Will had told Mike right after. The to me implied.
Mike is so lost in his thoughts that the thunderclap startles him, and the steady touch to his forearm startles him even more. But when he looks to his right Will is there, a determined look in his eyes as he squeezes Mike’s arm before dropping his hand to his side. Joyce is on Mike’s other side, eyes wide, and they stare up at the red sky together.
Soon, Will. Mike decides. I’ll tell you I love you soon.
Will is magnetic by his side, a gorgeous, all–consuming supernova. Mike turns to meet his eyes, and Will smiles at him. Mike smiles back, and for once he doesn’t feel like he’s reassuring anyone. He doesn’t feel like he’s faking it for anyone. He doesn’t feel like he has to stay strong. He feels free, like he finally has the space to take a breath.
That’s the truth, Mike thinks, and he just never noticed. That Will would catch him when he falls. Will would save him from the brink of death. That the answer to the question who takes care of Mike has always been simple and unwavering: it’s Will.
It’s always been Will.
—
A few weeks before their thirty–seventh crawl went horribly wrong, Will’s mom had watched him stare helplessly at Mike’s back as he left for their thirty–sixth crawl, walking fearlessly into danger somewhere Will wasn’t able to keep an eye on him. It scared Will, to see his friends and his sister walking into an active military zone, that any crawl could be the one they didn’t come back from, and that fear only increased tenfold when he thought about Mike. It was only a matter of time before Joyce noticed.
“He’ll be alright,” his mom had told him, coming around the table to hug her into his side. “I know you’re worried about Mike, but he’s brave. He’ll come back home.”
No, Mom, Will had thought then. You don’t understand. It wasn’t that Will thought Mike couldn’t take care of himself. It wasn’t that Will didn’t underestimate Mike’s bravery, his strength. It’s that there will always be this utterly irrational part of Will Byers’ heart that can’t stand to be away from Mike because he is the love of Will Byers’ fucking life, and Will would take down the entire MAC–Z with his bare hands to keep Mike safe. Will knows he’s weaker than his friends. Will knew he was a liability, with his connection to Vecna. But Will didn’t care. It was Mike. Will swore to protect him the day he chose wizard as his class in D&D. He would always protect his paladin.
But ever since the day they met, Mike has insisted on being the protector out of the two of them. He always has been, ever since they were kids. But every time Mike yelled at a bully for Will, every time Mike shot him a reassuring look when Will was picked on during class, every time Mike put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him out of the Upside Down, each and every time Will has longed to do the same for him. Even when he was eight years old, Will remembers wishing that Mike would let Will stand up against a bully for him, for once. And now, he wishes he could be with Mike and Lucas while they kept watch during crawls, just to know Mike is safe for himself.
Will hates that he can’t go on crawls. His only solace is that El can’t, either, and they sit together on the couch in the basement of WSQK and talk about their lives, since they miss so much of each others’ now, and sometimes they even talk about Mike. It’s been easier to do that, since Mike and El broke up and Will confessed to El that he’s in love with Mike. The concept of boys being in love with other boys wasn’t one she struggled to accept, because she was never socialized to think romantic love was exclusive to a boy and a girl. But El understood that the rest of the world thought otherwise, and she understood not to tell a soul, and that was how she became Will’s closest confidant.
Protecting Mike is one of the things Will has talked about with El. She’s always felt the same, she told him, about wanting to keep Mike safe from every horror she’d ever experienced. Even now that they’ve broken up, that desire hasn’t left her. The only difference between El and Will, until right now, was that El had real, tangible powers to protect Mike with. Will, at the time, didn’t. But, El had told him, Will loves Mike stronger than El ever has, and she loves him with all her heart. That’s enough, El had said, and Will chose to believe her. He loves Mike with everything he is. It has to be enough.
And now, Will really does have the tangible powers to protect Mike. He has more than just his heart, which calls out Mike’s name and aches to keep him safe. So when Will saw the Demogorgon leaping towards Mike, he knew there was nothing else to do but save him, in whatever way he could. Will closed his eyes, remembered all the memories that save him every day, of meeting Mike, drawing for his mother, building Castle Byers with Jonathan, learning D&D in Mike’s basement. And that love, it really was enough.
Will got real superpowers, and the first thing he did with them was protect Mike.
Will wouldn’t have it any other way.
Joyce leads Mike and Will back to the WSQK Building. Mike and Will walk a few paces behind her, moving closer to each other like magnets, hands brushing so close Will could slip his fingers between Mike’s and hold him close, if he wanted to. But each time electricity sparks between their fingertips Joyce turns around to check on Will, and they push apart. They could stay apart, if they tried, but Will doesn’t want to. He needs to be close to Mike, after that brush with death. He needs to feel that Mike is alive.
Eventually, Will settles for holding onto the back of Mike’s jacket, his hand hidden somewhere Joyce wouldn’t see. Mike just turns to him and smiles when he feels the movement, a quick smile that still sends a shock of warmth through Will’s veins. They stay that way until Joyce opens the door to the WSQK, and Will lets go of Mike as they walk inside, but doesn’t stay too far. Joyce looks between the two of them.
“Mike,” she says suddenly. “Mike, sweetheart, you’re bleeding.”
Right, Will remembers suddenly, Mike’s cut. He takes a look at it again, and winces. Blood is dripping down Mike’s forehead now, and Will remembers how Mike’s shoulder had hit the wall when they’d been fixing the pipe leak.
“Let me take a look—” Joyce starts, but Will feels a surge of protectiveness so large wash over him that suddenly he can’t stand the idea of anyone but him taking care of Mike. Besides, his mom just found out her son has superpowers. She needs a break.
“It’s okay, Mom,” Will says quickly. “I’ll help Mike get patched up.”
Joyce frowns. “Are you sure, sweetie? You should get some rest.”
“Yeah,” Mike agrees. “It’s fine, Will, I just have to put a bandaid on—”
“No,” Will snaps, and when both Mike and Joyce look at him oddly, he lowers his voice. “Mike, you banged your shoulder up, too. You shouldn't be reaching for your face.”
Mike gives him an odd look then, something fond crossing his features. It makes Will flush. “Okay,” Mike says finally. “Is there—like, a bathroom here, or—”
“There’s a first–aid kit in the bedroom,” Will says. For the rare occasions a Crawl had lasted overnight and Will and El refused to go home until their loved ones came back safe and sound, the floor plan of the WSQK included a small bedroom. Mike nods, and Will gives Joyce one last hug, lets her hold him as tight as she wants, before she lets go, smiles at Mike, and then goes to the couch and sits down.
Will grabs Mike’s wrist and tugs. “Come on.”
Mike nods and follows Will into the bedroom. It’s a sparsely decorated room, one poster chosen by Will (The Clash) and one poster chosen by El (Cyndi Lauper). Will feels a heady sense of power, being the one to lead Mike somewhere, for once. Will stops in front of the bed, decorated only with a white quilt, and Mike sits down. Will circles the bed to grab the first–aid kit from the drawer of the nightstand, and then sits on the edge of the bed next to Mike, turning towards him. Mike smiles at him.
From this close, Will can see each one of Mike’s freckles. He can see the cowlick curling down Mike’s forehead. He can see the flecks of brown in Mike’s black eyes. He can see the bruise already starting to form on Mike’s collarbone, going down the collar of his sweater and onto his shoulder. Will hates seeing Mike hurt, so he brings his gaze back to Mike’s eyes. If Will had to choose a favorite part of Mike’s face to draw, it would be his eyes, because they’re always so full of expression. Right now, they have an unreadable look in them, but undeniably a soft, fond one. Will sighs and takes out an alcohol wipe.
“You know,” Mike says. “You’re probably exhausted, Will. I can do this myself.”
“Mike,” Will says, and he means for it to come out stern but it just comes out imploring instead, something true and desperate lacing his words. Love lining each syllable, dripping like honey. “Mike, please. I need—I need to do this.”
I can’t tell you how much I love you, so I need to show it instead.
Mike must see something in Will’s face, because he sighs. “Okay.”
“You always take such good care of me,” Will murmurs, opening the packet and taking the wipe out of it, bringing to Mike’s forehead. “Let me take care of you, too.”
It’s romantic. It’s probably explicitly romantic. But Will doesn’t care. He’s still riding on a leftover adrenaline high, he’s still giddy on the fact that Mike is alive, and Robin’s words are still coursing through him. I felt so free. Will does feel free, when he looks at Mike. Will remember what he’d thought, when he closed his eyes, the image of Mike shielding his face from a Demogorgon imprinted on the inside of his eyelids.
I’ve loved you since the day I met you, Mike Wheeler.
Mike hisses when the wipe hits his cut, and without thinking Will reaches out and grabs his hand. He half expects Mike to pull away, but instead he joins their hands, squeezing back. Will’s heart beats like the flaps of a hummingbird’s wings. Their fingers lace together on the mattress as Will presses the wipe to Mike’s forehead, slowly getting rid of the blood. Mike just lets him, watching Will as he works, and Will flushes.
“You’re amazing,” Mike says, out of the blue. Will blushes harder.
“I’m just wiping the blood off your face. I did that last week when you ate shit tripping down the stairs at school.”
Mike laughs. “You know what I mean, Will. The powers, but everything else, too. How strong you are, even after everything you’ve been through. It’s incredible. I wish—”
Mike hisses again as Will finishes his last sweep of Mike’s forehead, and then he crumples up the wipe and starts to unwrap a bandaid instead. He has to let go of Mike’s hand to do that, but Mike lets him go without protest, completing his thought.
“I wish I could be as strong as you,” Mike finishes, and Will almost drops the band–aid. He looks at Mike, sees nothing but honesty etched on his face.
“You’re the strongest person I know,” Will tells him. “And the bravest.”
“You make me brave,” Mike responds. And really, how could Will not have fallen in love with him? Mike is his knight in shining armor, his best friend in the world. The kid he learned Dungeons and Dragons with, the teenager he fought with about a girl, the almost–adult he’s cleaning the wounds of now, and wishing so desperately he could kiss.
“No,” Will says, shakes his head. “You were so brave, when I was gone. Everyone told me how brave you were. You’re brave, with or without me, Mike. You’re amazing.”
Mike laughs, a little self–deprecating, and Will frowns. He reaches up to press the band–aid to Mike’s forehead, resisting the urge to press a kiss there, too. Will revels in the fact that he gets to take care of Mike like this, reassure him like this, be there for him like this. Will gets to protect the love of his life, for once, and he’ll happily do it forever.
“I mean it,” Will says. “Don’t put yourself down, Mike. Please. I know you, Mike. I know you blame yourself for your parents and Holly. I know you blame yourself for the kids. But you don’t have to. It wasn’t your fault. We will get them all back. I promise.”
How does Will say it physically hurts him when Mike is mean to himself? How does Will say that the sadness in Mike’s eyes tugs so tightly at his heart that it aches?
“Okay,” Mike says, finally. “You’re right. We’ll get them all back.”
“We will.” Will smiles and takes his hands off Mike’s forehead, reaching back down to take Mike’s hand without thinking. Mike readily accepts. “And you’re all fixed up.”
Will expects Mike to pull away, now, to leave the bedroom and start strategizing their next move. But Mike doesn’t. He tips forward instead, and Will gasps when their noses brush, when Mike’s lips are an inch away from his own. Will tightens his grip on Mike’s hand, suddenly feeling like he’s on a rollercoaster flying downwards.
“Mike,” Will whispers, breath punched–out and stilted. “What are you doing?”
Will starts counting Mike’s freckles. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven—
“I love you, Will Byers.”
Will loses count.
Suddenly, all there is in the world is Mike. Mike, the love of his life, telling Will that he loves him too. That Will isn’t alone in this feeling. That even though Will was going to love Mike for the rest of his life without saying a word about it, now he doesn’t have to. Suddenly, possibilities open up. Will can tell Mike that he loves him.
“I love you, Mike Wheeler.”
Mike’s face splits open in a grin, the biggest grin Will has ever seen on his face. It makes him melt, makes him so indescribably happy, that he put this look on Mike’s face. And before he knows it, Will’s eyes fill with tears. He blinks, and one falls down his cheek. Mike notices, because of course he does, and he wipes it away with his free hand.
“Hey,” Mike whispers, so soft, the way he always is with Will. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Will nods, voice straining with the need to cry. “I just—I never thought I’d get to tell you I love you. I never thought I’d be able to say it out loud.”
“You can,” Mike says. It sounds like a promise. “As many times as you want.”
“I love you, Mike,” Will says, because he can. “I love you. I’m going to take care of you, Mike. I’m going to protect you when you’re in danger and hold you when you’re hurting. You’re always protecting us, but I’m going to be the one who protects you.”
Will isn’t expecting it when Mike’s eyes get wet, too. But he’s ready for it, and he wipes the tears from Mike’s cheek the same way Mike did for him.
“I love you, Will,” Mike says, sniffling. But he’s still smiling, and Will would fight Vecna a thousand times over to keep that smile on his face. “And I’ll protect you right back.”
“I know,” Will says. He closes his eyes and thinks of the boy on the swings who asked Will to be his friend, and the boy in this bedroom with him now leaning forward to kiss him, and how Will has loved Mike every moment from then until now. And how Mike has loved him too, from then to now, fiercely and eternally and innately.
When Mike kisses Will for the first time, their hands squeeze even tighter together on the bed, Will’s free hand in Mike’s hair and Mike’s on Will’s cheek. When Will kisses Mike back for the first time, he thinks about how Mike will never have to face the world alone again, because Will is a sorcerer, Mike’s sorcerer, and Will's love was always enough.