Chapter Text
The sun rises once again, Mike rolls out of bed, and throws on his clothes for the day. Each morning, he forgets for a moment that Jonathan and Will are staying in his home before he remembers, and he loses the bliss he had in that moment.
Mike opens his closet, looking for his backpack. He doesn’t see it and wonders if he’ll ever be comfortable going downstairs to look for it, with the chance of seeing him.
He goes downstairs to ask his mom if she knows where it is.
“Mom, have you seen –“
Shit
Only Will is the one Mike can see – still eating breakfast, or at least looking at his breakfast.
Mike stops in the doorway, now realizing how he looks like he just rolled out of bed. Which he did, but it’s embarrassing to him now that Will is aware of it.
“Oh. Hey.”
“Morning,” Will mutters.
Mike wishes he had never come downstairs so that he could avoid the awkward feeling that he always seems to get between him and Will. He spots his backpack, though, so it wasn’t for nothing.
Mike crosses the room, trying to avoid eye contact with Will. He grabs his backpack from the corner, then drifts to the kitchenette to pour his own cereal. Will seems to do the same, ignoring Mike’s existence to make things easier. For a second, Mike hesitates, glancing toward one of the empty chairs across from Will.
Their eyes meet.
The air feels thick with how loud the silence is.
Will stares at the table. It makes Mike’s heart sink that their friendship has come to this – not even able to share breakfast.
Mike lingers, trying not to show the guilt he keeps feeling. Despite what he told Will last year, about working as a team, about being best friends again, they barely speak. He feels completely to blame.
“I’m, uh,” Mike says, awkwardly standing with the bowl in hand. “I’m gonna eat in my room. I’m kinda obsessed with this new comic book series, so ...”
“Cool,” Will says, seemingly uninterested.
Mike wishes more than anything that he could just sit right down next to Will, apologize, and live happily ever after. But things were left too complicated to have it be that easy.
Mike heads up the stairs to his bedroom, where he closes the door behind him, defeated that yet another day living with Will is like this. He sits down at his desk, remembering the times when Will didn’t confuse him so much that he couldn’t stand to talk to him.
Will was his best friend, an even better friend than El ever could be. But in one week, he lost both of them, left wondering why.
Now, living with Will is just sad.
It’s one thing to have your best friend lie straight to your face, convince you that your girlfriend will always need you (even when she is on the verge of breaking up with you), and have you think your girlfriend loved you in ways she did not. It’s a completely different thing to then be forced to live under the same roof as your lying friend, and realize you can never be the same as you once were together.
With Max still in a coma, Lucas spending every afternoon at the hospital, Dustin hanging out almost exclusively with Steve and Robin, and Nancy busy with Jonathan, there are not a lot of people to hang out with anymore.
They still eat lunch together at school, but it’s not the way it used to be.
Mike knows their friends are just as fed up with them not talking as he is, but he just doesn’t know how he can fix something he feels he didn’t cause. He wanted to start over with Will, but him giving him false hope made him feel like Will didn’t care about him as much as he might have once before.
Mike’s room that night is left with constant reminders of him failing Will by not putting in the effort he wishes he could into their friendship. He thinks of how Will probably has no care for him anymore as he lies in his bed trying to fall asleep.
During the afternoons after school, or on the weekends, like today, Mike tries to ignore the fact that he can’t talk to Will about things anymore. Not just because they aren’t talking anymore, but because Will always seems to be doing other things without him. Will being gone from the house is almost worse for Mike since it reminds him that Will has moved on from him, and he hasn’t.
Mike flips through the pages of his new favorite comic, trying to distract himself, when all of a sudden the lights go out. Sounds of everything in the house seem to be shutting off.
Just what I needed
Mike goes downstairs to see what happened. Mrs. and Mr. Wheeler try to calm down Holly while they listen to the radio to see what caused the power outage.
Nancy walks over to Mike when she spots him.
“Hey, the power went out all over Hawkins,” she gives him a knowing, concerned look.
“You don’t think it could be–”
“I’m not sure, Jonathan and I are going to try and figure it out. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I mean, it is weird they don’t know the cause.”
Mike feels so self-centered. Where even is Will right now? What if he’s hurt or Vecna has him?
Mike sighs with relief when he hears the familiar pedaling of Will’s bike pulling into the driveway. He backs up from the door and tells Jonathan. It’s his brother, and Mike’s ex-best friend. He needs to remember that.
“Will!” Jonathan’s already on his feet, gripping his arm. “Hey. Good, you’re home. The power’s out, we’re trying to reach–“
Mike tries to avert his attention from Will when he hears his dad talking to someone on the radio again.
“Uh-huh, you’re telling me there’s nothing to be done?”
A burst of static, then a tired, mechanical voice, sounding like it’s explained this a million times already: “Sorry, sir. It’s not just your house; whole grid’s down. We’re doing our best. Until then, please use candles and blankets to stay warm.”
Mr. Wheeler mutters something about everyone being useless nowadays, before clumsily pushing the antenna back in and handing the walkie back to Mike, who’s silently sitting beside him.
“No lights tonight?” Holly asks excitedly.
“No, honey. But it’s okay – we’ll make it cozy with candles.” Mrs. Wheeler hands her a flashlight. “Why don’t you go upstairs, and I’ll tuck you in in a minute? Be careful with the stairs!”
Holly scurries off, the flashlight beam bouncing. Ted Wheeler sits on the couch and stares at the dark TV screen, like if he’s looking hard enough, it might turn back on. Nancy is rummaging through drawers for more candles.
“The heaters,” Will says from across the room.
“Aren’t working,” Jonathan confirms. “But it’ll be alright. We’ve got blankets.”
“You boys.” Mrs. Wheeler looks between Jonathan and Will. “I know the basement gets cold even with the heating working. Jonathan, you can take the couch, and Will, maybe you could share with Mike –”
Maybe this could be my chance to fix things, finally.
“-No,” Will says quickly, glancing over at Mike, who is trying to hide the defeat on his face.
Will clears his throat. “Uh, no thank you. It’ll be fine.”
“But if it gets too cold –“
“We’ll let you know.”
The night unfolds in flickers and shadows. Candles, cold leftovers, the soft clatter of dishes under freezing water. Mike follows Nancy’s actions by lighting the fireplace. It takes a while for the room temperature to rise.
Mike’s dad turns on the battery radio, flipping through channels in hopes of an update. He has always been drowned out by Mike, but now it seems harder to because everyone is wondering when things will go back to normal. At least, what the ‘normal’ has been recently.
“We reached out to Roane County Water and Electric,” a woman’s voice says through static. “A spokesperson says that the reason for the outage is still unknown.”
Mike has had enough feeling unwanted and unneeded, so he goes up to his room.
He grabs his walkie out of habit of being bored, and realizes Max is in the hospital with no power.
“Come in, Lucas, this is Mike, over.”
Mike listens to the static, hoping Lucas will respond and melt his worries.
“Here, I just biked to the hospital if you’re wondering about Max, over.”
Mike feels a sudden rush of cold air and decides to continue the conversation at the bottom of the stairs, taking a flashlight from his closet to go sit where it’s warmer.
Mike hears Will’s footsteps enter the hallway, but for once doesn’t care to acknowledge him because he’s too scared of what Lucas will say is going on with Max.
“Her emergency power should last a few days, then the generator needs refueling.”
Mike sighs in relief.
“I was so worried,” Lucas continues, his voice sounding shaky in a way Mike’s never heard before. “I came here as soon as the lights went out, I thought she’d–”
“I know, Lucas,” Mike says softly. “It’s okay. She’s gonna be okay.”
Mike’s voice is gentle in a way Will hasn’t heard in months. He looks up finally, catching Will’s eyes, wondering why he’s still standing there.
Mike averts his eyes, and Will quickly walks past him to head down to the basement.
Once Lucas and Mike say their goodbyes, Mike takes this as an opportunity to talk to El before he has to go to bed.
"El, are you there?"
"Yes."
"How are you guys doing over there?"
"Fine, except Joyce and I can't watch our show. It's funny, I just said the same to Will a little ago."
Mike's heart drops without him knowing the meaning of it.
"You talked to Will?"
"Yes. Don't act like that is unusual."
Mike is embarrassed that he was so eager to hear about his ex-friend, who no longer cares about him.
"Yeah, sorry.. what did you talk about?"
"Well, actually, Will said how he's been.. scared since the power went out."
"Scared?" Mike says, confused.
"Yes. I think because of the cold reminding him of the mindflayer. But it is okay, he has Jonathan."
Mike knows Jonathan never sleeps in the basement with Will. Not once since they moved in, Will must not want El to know, so Mike keeps it to himself.
"Right, he will be fine."
The night comes to an end for Mike when his mom tells him to turn off his walkie and check on Will.
Shit.
Mike takes a lantern, lighting up the living room down the hallway, and as he approaches the basement, he already feels the cold from behind the door.
He knocks once, then again, before Will comes to open the door. His blanket draped over him, making Mike feel guilty for disturbing his possible comfort in the cold of the basement.
“Sorry,” he says. “Did I wake you?”
“No.”
“Um,” Mike says, shifting. “Mom asked me to check on you.”
“I’m fine.”
Mike is worried that Will is trying to just have this conversation be as short as possible by covering his true feelings of having to sleep down there.
“It’s freezing down here.”
Will seems to stand straighter, almost trying to convince Mike he is warmer than he really is.
“I’m okay, Mike. I’ll manage. You can go.”
Mike’s eyes flicker over Will’s face, like he’s studying him.
“I talked to El,” Mike says slowly. The shadows make his cheekbones appear even sharper in a way that makes Will’s stomach twist. “She said you’re … scared.”
“I’m not scared. I’m not a baby, Mike,” Will says, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
“No, I know. But she said Jonathan is sleeping down here to keep you company.”
“Yeah, well. He is.”
Mike wonders why Will lies at what seems like every opportunity he gets.
“You know I have ears, right? I can hear him sneak into Nancy’s room every single night. I’m literally next door.”
“Can you just go? I’m okay.”
Mike persists, knowing how cold it is down there, how lonely Will has probably been for the past hour.
“I don’t believe you. You just don’t wanna cause any trouble, or whatever.”
“No, Mike. I want to be alone. I don’t wanna talk to you, okay?”
Mike tries not to show how deeply that meant to him. He is shocked at how he feels; he just stares, unmoving, brows furrowed.
“Fine.” He looks at the wall behind Will’s head.
“You made it clear earlier that you don’t wanna sleep in my room. But I just wanted to come down here to say that you can, of course. It’s not exactly warm, but it’s better than this.”
“Thanks,” Will says stiffly. “But no.”
Mike stands there for another few seconds, processing the fact that Will may never need him as his friend again. “Okay,” he says finally. He opens his mouth again to say more, to tell Will that he wants this all to be over between them, but stops himself and clears his throat. “Good night, then.”
“Good night,” Will says.
When Mike closes the door, he regrets ever going to see if Will was okay. He knows for certain now he’s not, and can’t shake the fact that Will would rather freeze than go up to Mike’s room.
Mike goes up to his room, gets ready to go to sleep, and sits on the edge of his bed looking at his door like Will will come through it any second, saying how stupid he’s been.
He hears a small knock. It was so small, Mike’s unsure it was even on his door, or a knock at all. Either way, he was going to open his door.
Coldness and silence creep in from the hallway. Mike’s eyes, dark and confused why Will actually did show up.
“I changed my mind,” Will says.
Mike tries to hide the fact that he is happy to see Will, even if they aren’t friends anymore. He steps aside, letting Will in.
The room falls silent. Suddenly, it’s the exact scenario they’ve been avoiding for months.
Mike can’t help but think of the times he wished he’d be forced to be alone in a room with Will. Just so they could figure things out. Make things the way they used to be. Watching Will stand there awkwardly with his pillow and blanket, though, snaps Mike back to the reality of Will not wanting to fix things with him the way he does.
They haven’t had a real conversation in so long, it feels impossible to find words.
“Um, do you still have that spare mattress? The one we used for sleepovers?” Will asks
Mike feels a tug on his heart. Why did Will have to mention the sleepovers? Mike wishes Will were a truly different person, but when he mentions how they used to be, it shows him more clearly the hole he left in his heart when they stopped being friends, and how he’s the same Will he loved.
“Yeah, I’ll get it.”
While Mike pulls the second mattress from under his bed, Will looks around, noticing his old drawings still hanging up on Mike’s walls, which makes Mike’s cheeks flush in embarrassment.
“This should work.”
“Thanks.”
Mike sits on his bed, as Will crouches down on the floor and puts his pillow on the mattress. The silence was there before Will, but it seems much more noticeable when there is silence between Mike and him, as well as the rest of the house.
He tries to hold his breath for some reason, feeling like even his breath is an annoyance to Will. He can’t bear the silence; not only does it make him feel more guilt over what their friendship has become, but it makes him feel like he’s missing his opportunity to fix things.
“Do you want the candle on or–“
“On, please,” Will says too eagerly.
“Okay,” Mike says, realizing Will is still scared even up here.
Mike lies flat on his back, wondering what he could do to make things better, but he can’t seem to find the courage for any of the possibilities.
Neither of them says a word.
A minute passes. Then another.
“Well,” Mike says eventually, and turns his back to Will. “Good night.”
Will looks at his back. “Good night,” he says quietly.
The house falls silent. The flame flickers, and shadows shift over the walls. And even though Mike feels he failed in making things better, hearing Will sleeping beside him on the floor of his room comforts him in a way he hasn’t been in a while. It’s a sound almost as familiar as his own breathing.
Mike watches his back rise and fall, his hair messy already from being in bed prior. Will turns over, and so does Mike, trying to hide the fact that he was looking at him.
He might not sleep much tonight. But he’ll sleep. He’ll make it through the night. Tomorrow, the power will be back, and everything can go back to normal – or whatever counts as normal for them now. Mike can stop feeling obliged to care for Will, and Will can regain his dignity.
Eventually, sleep will come.