Chapter Text
The phone call goes straight to voicemail.
It’s the fifth therapist Mike’s has attempted to contact today, and at this point he’s pretty much given up on finding one. Big whoop. Mike flips through the directory, scanning for his friends’ numbers instead.
But then, who should he call?
Dustin is probably busy studying bioengineering mechanics or something equally asinine Mike won’t ever understand. Lucas and Max are on their not-to-be interrupted road trip around the states, likely camped out in a nature preserve or hiking through waterfalls. El has been slightly awkward to talk to since the break up, and Mike would rather jump off a cliff for the second time before calling Nancy.
Mike’s pointer finger slides past highlighted numbers of random extended family, family friends he hasn’t seen in years, and then it lands on him. Will Byers. One of the few people with intimate knowledge of Mike’s childhood, who knows what really happened in Hawkins. Will would understand. He would understand better than anyone, really.
But then, when Mike thinks about Will, all he can think of is the chasm in his chest. It’s a painful, aching throb. A terrible mixture of his happiest moments and his darkest nights. He misses Will like he would miss his left kidney if he ever got it removed. He can live without it, sure, but it really fucking sucks.
They haven’t talked in just over a year at this point. That’s how long it’s been since Mike has seen anyone face to face. Mike calls Dustin and Lucas whenever he has the chance, and sends letters to El and Joyce every other week. It’s good to stay somewhat connected to his past, even if all he’s done is run from it as of late.
But Will… Will won’t appreciate him calling. Not after all this time without contact. Especially not now, when Mike is only calling because he needs help. Not even to mention, if anyone should be helping on anyone, it should be Mike helping Will. What Will went through was far worse than anything Mike has ever experienced. Mike really should just get over his trauma and move on, like everyone else has.
As much as he tries to avoid it, Mike’s heart aches for Hawkins, his family, the party, DND. Will. But in the same vein, those things are reminders of all that he’s lost. His home, his childhood, his sanity. Gone. Bulldozed. Demolished.
So no, Mike really shouldn’t be calling Will right now. But he hurts. Everything hurts.
Mike punches in the numbers, swallowing harshly.
The phone rings once, twice, thrice… Mike taps on his knees. His heart hammers in his chest violently, mind racing as he wonders what to even say when Will picks up. Maybe some truths about what he’s been struggling with. Maybe some lies about why he hasn’t called. Maybe some bull shit about why he stays in touch with the rest of the party, but not Will.
Will. Will, Will, Will. Mike’s heart beats with the name, each anxious tap of his finger beckoning and repelling in the same motion. He wants Will back, more than anything. But it hurts. It hurts so much, his throat closes with the thought, and he feels his walls rising once more.
Maybe he should hang up. Maybe he should go out and get shitfaced and forget this ever happened. Maybe he should-
The phone clicks. Mike holds his breath.
“Hey, this is Will.”
Mike lets out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he’s been holding, and an ocean of emotion slams down onto him in a colossal wave.
“Will, I-”
“Sorry, I must have missed you. I’m probably out fishing. Leave a message, if you want.”
The phone line beeps. Mike blinks, staring at it for a second. Then, he carefully sets the phone back on the receiver. God, he didn’t know what he was thinking. After all this time…
It’s kind of ridiculous, really, that Mike did all the pushing away and still expected Will to be what, waiting around for him? That he thought Will would answer his call at a moment's notice, putting his life on pause to help Mike get his back together? After all that Mike has done, or not done really, to be deserving of Will’s friendship?
‘I’m probably fishing. Leave a message if you want.’
Mike distantly remembers Will going fishing with Jonathan a couple times when they were kids. Maybe he picked it up again to self-soothe, or cope. Will’s probably got all kinds of new hobbies. He’s probably got things all figured out.
Mike should probably find a hobby.
It’s only, some days he’s even too scared to leave his dorm room. And on this particular Saturday, he finds himself succumbing to wasting the day away eating chips and watching Star Wars reruns on the TV. He stays up late, eyeing his pillow miserably as he begins his nightly contemplation about how he’s going to get to sleep.
He’ll be lucky if he gets more than a couple hours. Housing had to transfer him from a double to a single in his freshman year, after waking up screaming from one too many nightmares. It was hard to make friends when his roommate thought he was a freak, and Mike felt like a waking zombie, wandering around campus and barely managing to function.
Maybe he should have taken a couple gap years, like Will. He could have moved out to California and got a temporary job to save up for college. Spent his days driving Holly to school and popping in on Joyce and El. Their families still live a block away even after the move to California, coincidentally enough. Their mothers had joked about their similar taste in suburbia, and Mike had struggled not to roll his eyes.
It’s too late now, anyhow. Mike got out, he escaped Hawkins, he survived the most evil of monsters, and he’s on his way to obtaining a degree in communications and isn’t that just… fine.
Mike stares miserably at his ET bedsheets, and wonders for the thousandth time if he should just go home. But going home would mean seeing Will, which would open cans of worms. All the cans of worms in fact, too many to deal with.
Instead, Mike lays on the mattress, hard. He tries not to think about the chill of the Upside Down, or the sound of bones popping. He has much more important things to do, like sleep. Right. Sleep.
It’s another restless night.
~~~
Mike wakes to the phone ringing. Groggy, he blinks sleep out of his eyes and rolls out of bed. His chest constricts slightly, with a passive thought as to who might be calling. Or returning a call, he dares to hope.
“Hello?” Mike says, pressing the phone to his ear.
“Hey Mike.”
Dustin. Mike can’t tell whether he’s relieved by the realization.
“Hey man, what’s up?” Mike suppresses the urge to twirl the phone cord around his finger, like his sister used to. It feels like a girly habit, something he wouldn’t do.
“Nothing really, the usual. I was actually calling because I wanted to run something by you. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately…”
“Oh, what’s that?” Mike wonders, frowning.
“It’s Hawkins. I’ve been feeling like I need to go back.”
“Go back… To Hawkins?” Mike can barely believe he’s saying the words. The name of his hometown has all but left his vernacular in the last two years, so much so it leaves an odd tingle on his tongue.
“Yeah. I just keep… remembering. Everything that’s happened. It’s like it’s burned into my retinas, some 3D movie or some shit. I feel like it would help clear my mind to go, visit the graveyard and pay my respects. Maybe ride my bike around. Hell, even catch a movie for old times sake.”
“Well that sounds… like, yeah. If you feel like you should do that, then you should,” Mike rambles. Sweat glides down Mike’s spine, his room feeling significantly more stuffy than it had a few minutes prior.
“Yeah, the thing is, I do want to go back. But I don’t feel like I should go alone…” Dustin’s voice draws off, an uncharacteristic edge in his tone.
Mike blinks. “So what you’re saying is… you want me to go back. To Hawkins. With you?”
“All of us,” Dustin says. “I already talked to Lucas and Max. They don’t mind adding the extra stop. El’s going to fly out and meet us there, since she’s busy working. Will and I are going to roadtrip down. So, I guess that just leaves you.”
I guess that just leaves you. Why had Dustin left Mike for last when planning this little escapade? Why is it only now that he’s bringing up the trip? Mike hates that he already knows the answer.
Because if Dustin asked Mike first, then Mike would have said no. Obviously. Now that everyone’s going, it would be pretty strange if Mike didn’t. Not to mention, it’s well known that Mike gets serious FOMO.
But it’s Hawkins. And Will.
“Listen, you don’t have to tell me now,” Dustin says, after several moments of Mike’s silent contemplation. “But I wanted to put it on your radar. We leave on the first day of winter break. I’m going to drive down to pick up Will in so-cal. If you want to come, we’ll add you as our next stop. Just think about it.”
“Right,” Mike says, swallowing. “First day of break. Okay. Um, actually, can I call you back and let you know later tonight? I’ve got some things planned for the day, so I should really get going.”
“Yeah of course,” Dustin says. “And Mike?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re taking care of yourself, right?”
“Course,” Mike says, instinctually at this point. “I’m doing good.”
“Good,” Dustin says. His tone is light, but Mike isn’t positive he has Dustin convinced. “I’ll talk to you soon then.”
“Bye Dustin.”
Mike hangs up the phone. Then, he flops on his bed to play Nintendo. A few hours later, he drags himself out of his dorm for the first time in two days to get campus Chinese food. It’s not the most authentic, but it’s better than the dining hall.
On his walk back, he ducks away from some people he recognizes from his mass media class, doing his best not to make eye contact.
In his dorm he sits at his desk for a bit, shoving dumplings in his mouth while typing out an essay on the history of media. It’s boring, long, and before Mike knows it the sun is begining to slip out of the sky.
He’s heating up some water to make ramen when he remembers he’s supposed to call Dustin back. Mike sighs, punching Dustin’s number into the phone. He answers almost immediately.
“Dustin?”
“Yeah, what’s up man?” Dustin says. He sounds casual, but is probably doing his best to hide his anticipation.
“I’ll go.”
“Sweet,” Dustin says, relief clear. “We’ll get to you Sunday night, around nine, then it’s a two day drive to Indiana. We’re going to be gone for nine days, so pack enough to last. Oh, and bring money for gas and food.”
“Yeah, yeah, I will,” Mike says, nodding though Dustin can’t see him. “I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
“See you soon man.”
The phone line clicks dead.
Mike takes a hot shower, and does his best to not think about what he’s just agreed to.
~~~
Mike feels stupid, standing outside the dorm buildings at nine o’clock at night with a suitcase and backpack slung over his shoulders. A few girls give him a side eye whilst they swipe their key card to enter the building. Mike suppresses the urge to flip them off.
Dustin’s car’s headlights blind Mike as it pulls up to the curb. Dustin also honks a few times, just to be an asshole, then he reaches over Will to roll down the passenger window.
“Well, well, well. Look who it is,” Dustin smirks.
Mike attempts a smile back, but it feels all wavy and wrong.
Will is sitting in the passenger seat, completely casual like, as if it’s just another Tuesday. His hair is different since Mike saw it last. He’s traded the bull cut for a messy tangle of curls.
Will doesn't say anything. Mike swallows.
“Hey guys,” Mike says, his mouth tugging into a side smile. “Long time no see.”
“Hey man! Let me pop the trunk,” Dustin says.
Mike crams in his stuff next to his friends', and then hops into the backseat. The interior of the car is nice and warm compared to the brisk chill outside of it. But something still feels off. He hates how he feels awkward climbing into his childhood friend’s car. He should be hopping in, shoving his shit in the cup-holder and immediately making himself at home. It’s been too long.
“How was the drive?” Mike hears himself asking.
Dustin shifts the car into gear, pulling out to make a U-turn towards the light.
“Long,” Dustin says, yawning. “I’ve been on the road for like, three straight days at this point since I had to drive down to pick up this guy.”
Will laughs a little. “Yeah, we actually just traded driving shifts. We’ve just been taking turns while the other one sleeps.”
“Did you have a nice nap Dustin?” Mike asks, reaching forwards to ruffle Dustin’s hair from the backseat. Dustin shoots him a glare.
“Would have been nicer if Will wasn’t blasting the Clash for the past hour.”
Will shrugs, tilting his head so Mike sees the smirk there.
“Guilty.”
“So catch us up,” Dustin says, looking at Mike through the rear view mirror. “How's college been?”
Mike tenses. These are the questions he’s been expecting, mentally preparing for.
“It’s been great, actually. Everyone here has been super nice, and I really like my classes. Mass media has been really interesting.”
It really hasn’t. But he’d rather tell people what they want to hear than have to explain why his life feels like a shit-hole right now.
“Do you go out a lot? I heard UT is a big party school,” Dustin says mindlessly, flicking the blinker to turn on the freeway.
“Umm, yeah I go out,” Mike says. He prays they can’t hear the insincerity in his voice. “Not a lot though. I’m not really into the party scene all that much.”
That much is true.
“Yeah, me neither,” Dustin says. “Not that I could party even if I wanted to. These classes are killing me. It’s worth it though.”
“How’s Suzie doing?”
Mike finds himself falling in a familiar rhythm of conversation with Dustin, chatting animatedly and catching up on everything they hadn’t been able to say over the phone. Will’s so silent Mike almost forgets he’s there. Almost.
“I keep telling Suzie we need to get outside more, like Will. Actually, Will tried to teach me how to fish when I visited over the Summer. I didn’t catch anything though.”
“You’re not patient enough,” Will chides, shaking his head.
“I didn’t know you were in southern California this summer Dustin,” Mike says. From Will’s slight cringe in the front seat, Mike thinks the statement might come out a little accusing. Oops.
“Oh- yeah,” Dustin glances at Will, his hands tensing on the wheel. “Just for a week to visit everyone.”
There’s a tangible silence. Mike could ask why he wasn’t invited, but then that would make the next sixteen hours really uncomfortable. Best just to let it go, or at least pretend like he has.
“That’s cool, man. I’ve been meaning to come visit, but you know. Just have a lot going on here,” Mike says.
Mike hadn’t gone home for the summer. He’d stayed in Texas and took a couple summer classes so he could keep living on campus. He told everyone it was so he could graduate early.
“Yeah, for sure. I get it,” Dustin says, shooting another glance at Will.
Will doesn’t share the look, however. He keeps his eyes locked straight ahead through the front window.
It’s going to be a long drive.
~~~
By the time the sun is peaking over the horizon, they make the communal decision to stop at a gas station to use the bathroom and stock up on snacks. Will buys nerds, which is unsurprising considering his love for the candies since they were kids.
Mike plops next to Will on a bench outside while they wait for Dustin to use the bathroom. Wordlessly, Mike holds out his hand. Will eyes him, a little wearily, and then, like a truce, he tips the box of nerds into Mike’s palm.
“You’re not even gonna complain? That’s new,” Mike says, tipping his head back and tossing the candy into his mouth with a crunch.
“Doesn’t seem worth it. To fight I mean,” Will says a little wistfully. “Besides, I can buy my own candy now. Perks of being employed.”
“Oh yeah, Joyce told me about that,” Mike says, as if he hasn’t been keeping tabs on Will since the moment they parted last December. “You got a job at a general store right?”
Will nods. “Yeah. The pay is shit but the hours are good enough. It just sucks having to work with my mom.” Will shudders dramatically. “I love her, but you know. I’m ready to find something new.”
“So what’s next then in the great adventures of William Byers?” Mike asks, nudging Will with his shoulder. “Got any big plans for the future?”
Will smiles a little, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. “Not exactly. I’ve got a lot of small plans, actually. Big plans just seem like… a lot. After everything.”
“Right,” Mike says. He opens his mouth to ask more, but they’re interrupted by the jingle of the gas station door.
“Gentlemen. Shall we get back on the road?” Dustin tosses Mike his keys. “It’s your turn to drive, Wheeler. I’m gonna get a headache if I have to keep staring at the fucking road.”
Mike hates driving, but he’s on a roadtrip, and he knows better than to argue with Dustin. It’s not too bad anyways. Will takes charge of the map while Dustin passes out in the backseat, and they navigate back onto the freeway quick enough. Then, it’s just open road for miles.
“Want to play a game?” Mike asks, when he can’t take the silence any longer.
Will raises his eyebrows. “What kind of game?”
“The license plate game,” Mike says. “First person to spot all fifty states wins.”
“Yeah, as if that’s going to happen,” Will says, rolling his eyes. “What do you think are the chances of us finding a license plate from Alaska, or even Hawaii?”
“I don’t know, but I like my odds,” Mike says, squinting his eyes, already on the lookout. “Ah, there’s one from Oklahoma! Good start.”
“Well, I see one from Texas,” Will shrugs indignantly. “And I saw that Oklahoma one too.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t count. I’ve got dibs,” Mike explains, oh so charitably.
Will waves him off. “Whatever. I’ll make a comeback. Look, there’s another one from Oklahoma.”
“So then we’re tied.”
“You never saw a plate from Texas,” Will says, smirking.
“Mouth-breather,” Mike gripes. He presses his foot on the gas, audibly accelerating the car just enough to piss off Will.
As expected, Will lets out a small gasp and makes a grab for the handle. Mike bites back a laugh. It’s fun making Will annoyed. And it’s kind of… comical. The way Will’s holding on for dear life, as if Mike would ever let anything happen to him.
“Not funny,” Will says through gritted teeth, slapping Mike’s arm with the back of his free hand. “You’re gonna get us killed.”
“Eh, I’d say on the levels of dangerous situations we’ve been in, this one falls pretty low on the list,” Mike says, shrugging.
“You shouldn’t tempt fate by doing stupid shit,” Will says, shaking his head.
“So what? I should just do nothing and sit around and fish all day instead?”
It’s meant to be teasing, but Mike knows the words are wrong the moment he’s said them. Will goes still, his arm flexing a tighter grip on the handle. Shit, shit shit.
“I mean, I didn’t… You know what I meant,” Mike says, laughing awkwardly.
Will doesn’t respond.
“Please Will? Don’t be like this. It was just a dumb joke,” Mike says in a rush, his eyes flicking between Will and the road. “Let’s just go back to the game. Look, there’s a plate from Louisiana!”
“I don’t feel like playing anymore,” Will mumbles.
God fucking damnit.
~~~
They stop at a motel in Missouri for the night.
“Hey, I’m checking in a room for Henderson?”
Mike and Will stand awkwardly behind Dustin while he checks them in. Mike feels like a kid again, waiting for his mom to talk to the grown-ups while he’s forced to wait quietly.
“Thank you sir,” Dustin says when the attendant hands them the keys. “Have a nice night.”
Their room isn’t far from the lobby, so they grab their luggage from the car and take it into their room. The place feels straight out of the seventies, rustic orange walls and a shaggy carpet that has clearly amassed some dust.
“Hey, I’m gonna take a shower really quick,” Will says. “I’ll be fast I promise.”
Mike hears the showerhead turn on, and then he and Dustin are left to change into pajamas and try out the beds. The mattress isn't the worst thing Mike has laid on, and they have two full sized so not everyone has to share.
“Aw man, have I missed laying in a bed,” Dustin hums, snuggling under the comforter. “Being in a car for that long does something to your psyche, I swear.”
“Yeah, it’s nice to not be cooped up anymore,” Mike agrees.
“Yeah, it is nice but-” Dustin pauses, as if in thought. “I wanted to talk to you about... I just… I guess I just expected this drive to go differently.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, we haven’t seen you in like, forever Mike. All I’m saying is I was hoping-”
“Listen, Dustin,” Mike interrupts, his face warming. “I get what you’re trying to do. Planning this trip. Inviting me. But… I can’t promise that I’m gonna be all happy-go-lucky all the time. I’m not like that kid that I used to be.”
Dustin is quiet for a long moment. “I never wanted you to be like you were,” he says, sounding sad. “I just wanted you to be the person you are, now.”
“I don’t… I don’t really know who I am anymore, Dustin.” Mike’s shoulders deflate, his chest caving in on itself. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Dustin says. He rolls over in his bed to face the wall. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Anyways, I’m gonna shower tomorrow and get some sleep. Um, we can talk more in the morning.”
“Yeah,” Mike says. “Yeah, let’s talk tomorrow.”
Unsurprisingly, Mike doesn’t fall asleep, even after Dustin’s breaths have become even and labored. Sometime later the shower nozzle flicks off. Will comes out, his hair tangled and wet, wearing sweats and a white t-shirt. He looks… messy. And warm.
Before Mike can reflect on that thought further, he hops off the bed, grabs his toiletries, and heads for the shower. When he pops back out, he’s not surprised to see Will in bed next to Dustin, a book in his lap. There’s a warm glow cast from the lamp between their beds, and the ambient sound of a heater running somewhere in the room.
“What are you reading?” Mike wonders as he slides under the covers of the other bed.
Will hums. “It’s called Ender’s Game. It’s about kids that go through some fucked up shit.”
“Hey, we can relate to that,” Mike says, smiling a little. “We were kids that went through all kinds of fucked up shit.”
“Yeah, it’s kind of therapeutic. Reading about it happening to someone else,” Will says, flipping the page.
They fall silent. Not an uncomfortable tense, silence. More a comfortable, peaceful one. For a moment, Mike reflects on the fact that he would have given anything for a time like this when they were battling Vecna. A drive through the states with two of his best friends, no fears or worries about being attacked at any moment. No interdimensional portals that might rip open without warning. Will, content and safe just one bed over.
Mike shuts his eyes tightly, wondering if he’ll ever be able to move on from what happened to them. If he ever will sleep peacefully, not haunted by his past.
“Will… do you still get nightmares?” Mike wonders, his voice almost a whisper.
“Sometimes,” Will says, thoughtful. “But they’re different now. I can tell they’re from… from me, you know. And not him. In a weird way that gives me comfort.”
“That is weird,” Mike says, and Will snorts.
“Well, I never claimed to be normal,” Will says. “Night Mike.”
“Night Will.”
Will sets his book on the bedside table and flicks the light off. Mike lays in the darkness, staring upwards at the popcorn ceiling. As usual, the moment the lights are turned off, he feels his entire body tense and his heartbeat picks up.
Mike is so uncomfortable, it’s almost painful. He shifts around for a bit, then kicks the comforter off and lays on top of the covers. As per usual, he’s falling down a rabbit hole he’d rather not spiral into. The thoughts echo anyways.
ou might think Vecna is gone, but he’ll never truly leave… Your parents will be killed, Holly taken… You’re never truly safe, it’s all an illusion… Somewhere out there, the demogorgons wait, thirsting for blood… Everyone you’ve ever loved, anyone you’ve ever cared about is in danger… Will. Will, Will, Will. He’ll hurt again, he’ll die again, you’ll have to stare at his corpse again and this time it will be real, you’ll lose him over and over and over and over-
Mike’s eyes pinch shut as he sucks in a few shallow breaths. Will is fine. He’s literally asleep a few feet over, perfectly content. Will said it himself, Vecna is gone. No one would know that better than Will.
It doesn’t stop the worry from sinking down to Mike’s stomach. He feels sick with it.
He knows the moment his eyes drift closed, that he’ll be in the upside down. The air will smell of sulfur, and the ground will breathe beneath him. His bike won’t be fast enough this time to outrun, his friends won’t be strong enough to fight, Mike won’t be smart enough to overcome.
“Mike?” Will’s whisper cuts through the darkness. “I can’t sleep with your heavy breathing.”
“Oh.” Mike’s body goes slack. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you thinking about?”
The question is personal. He suspects Will wouldn’t have asked it if it wasn't the middle of the night. Everything feels different when they can’t see one another.
“It’s a lot of stuff. Just… things I can’t stop thinking about.”
“Oh. What kind of things?”
Mike frowns. Part of him wants to open up and tell Will everything. But the bigger part knows that’s a bad idea. Will wouldn’t understand. He’s got a job now, and a car and a life. He probably doesn't spend upwards of ten hours a day thinking about all the shit they went through. On the other hand, Mike feels like he’s barely scraping by.
“Nothing. Just stupid stuff,” Mike grumbles, turning to face the wall.
Will sighs. “Have you been having nightmares, Mike?”
Fuck. Mike swallows, debating.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve been having nightmares.”
“What about?”
Mike frowns, wondering how much to say. “Being in the upside down. Vecna. People, dying…”
“You haven’t been sleeping, have you, Mike.”
It’s a statement, not a question. Will always understood Mike too much for his own good.
“No. I haven’t.”
There’s silence for a moment. Then, the rustling of sheets. Socked feet hit the shag carpet, and then there’s a gentle tug of the comforter being lifted. Mike doesn’t dare turn around.
“Night Mike,” Will whispers. He’s so close Mike can feel the body heat behind him.
“Night Will.”
A half an hour later and Will’s breathing evens out. Mike turns onto his back, tilting his head to see the figure sleeping beside him. Will looks so peaceful, it hurts. Mike aches to reach out and tug him closer. Then he would finally know Will was safe, tucked into his arms… He might even get some sleep.
Maybe if he just… touches Will. That would be enough. Mike’s breath stalls as he reaches out, his pointer finger coming to a rest on Will’s shoulder. He can feel the rise and fall of Will’s shoulder as he breathes, the even cadence reminding him that Will is here, Will is safe.
Like a wave, utter and complete exhaustion takes over. It’s as if all the bones in Mike’s body have turned to liquid, with the way he sinks into the mattress. Finally, is the last thought he has before everything goes dark.