Chapter Text
There wasn’t ever a time Will didn’t feel selfish. The feeling curled inside of him, settling in between his ribs and choking out his vocal chords. It didn’t help that now the world was ending, and that only now was he accepting himself.
He always knew what he was, he always knew that his fathe– that Lonnie– was right. He always knew that the rumors were true, and that he really was as gross as they thought him to be. Although, he wasn’t ever sure if he knew who “they” were.
Were they his friends? Or his parents? Or just the general public that he didn’t even care to name?
Truthfully, even before he realized what he was, he never thought he was gross. He wasn’t afraid of himself, he was afraid of how the others would react. He was afraid that all the work he put into others, all the times that he watered himself down for people who would never do the same for him, would go to waste. He was afraid that all of his life could be ripped away from him in more ways than one.
Stupid. That’s what he thinks of his dilemma. The world is ending, well, it may be ending. The foundation of his and the rest of humanity’s very existence was all based on faulty theories between him and his friends, and he was thinking about Mike?
“Will.”
He moved his head towards the voice, but his eyes stayed locked on the seams of the couch he was resting on.
“Will, come on man.” Lucas huffed in frustration, or at least that’s what Will perceived. Maybe Lucas was worried, or maybe he was ready to boot Will out of the party.
“The Party.”
He hadn’t thought of what his friend group used to be in so long, but now wasn’t the time to think about it. Now he had to act grown. He regretted not allowing himself to be a silly middle schooler in love now that the world was falling apart, but there wasn’t any time for that either.
“Sorry,” he murmured while finally looking up at the table that was being used to plan the next crawl. Saying sorry didn’t mean anything though, nobody was paying attention. There wasn’t any time.
And of course he knew that Mike Wheeler was really the nobody he was talking about.
Will didn’t even check to see if Mike was looking at him with those stupid eyes of his. Stupid in the way of how Will loved everything about them, and not just as an artist. He wanted to keep up these walls he spent so long building, and he wasn’t about to let Mike tear them all down with his stupid stupid eyeballs.
“So… We agree, right? We’ll head out next Thursday. Murray sai-”
“Yes, Mike, we know what Murray said, we went over it like twice already.”
Lucas caught his tone and grimaced as an apology, to which Mike just nodded. Will knew that Mike was just trying to catch him up, not Lucas or anybody else. Because of course it had to be Mike who noticed.
He didn’t want Mike to comfort him anymore. It was such a distant memory that he couldn’t even remember why he enjoyed the feeling of his gaze while giving rambled assurances. It was like time had taken out a chunk of Will’s brain, the part that was reserved for Mike, and now all that resided was a constant headache and a fogginess that no amount of caffeine or sleep could resolve.
Awoken from a trance, Will realized he blocked out the rest of the day. He expected his eyes to be dry from the lack of blinking, but then he noticed the tears, and how they wouldn’t stop coming. He didn’t need to notice how he was alone, it wasn’t like Mike ever checked up on him anyway. The only thing Mike could offer him was a pitiful look, and maybe a pat on the shoulder if he was feeling extra generous.
He didn’t want to think about Vecna, or the Upside Down, or the coldness that still chilled his bones. Especially since he knew his brain couldn’t help but focus on stupid teenage problems. He cursed himself for choosing to be a teenager the second everything was at stake.
He felt comfortable enough to let himself cry a little harder, until he heard his mother, that is.
“Hey buddy, how are you doing? Hmm?”
How condescending.
“I’m fine, mom.”
“Oh, Will…”
And now there she was, holding him and telling him he was worth more than what he went through. Yes, sometimes that was nice to hear, but it felt like she couldn’t imagine a world where he’s more than that. It was like she thought he could never be more than the fragile boy who doesn’t know how to cope with his problems, and that probably needs a therapist.
He felt her tears land on his shoulder and cheek as she gave him a tight side hug. He felt the feeling of selfishness in his ribs get cozied up around his lungs, slowly suffocating him. He felt stupid.
“Mm.” He hoped that if he agreed with what she was saying enough, that maybe she’d go away, and that maybe she’d stop suffocating him. Turns out it takes Hopper asking her to reset El’s obstacle course. Crazy how she saw him having emotions less tangible than a girl with psychic powers doing obstacle courses in the forest.
Now he was alone again. This time it was a nice kind of alone. The kind where you could recharge. It was interrupted by another thought of hatred towards himself. He hated how he switched up so fast. He wanted to be comforted, but not by his mother’s tears. Mainly because she was really only comforting herself.
Too many thoughts at once.
He was being too vulnerable. He was being too vulnerable to himself. Naturally, he had to sleep to avoid things.
He picked up the habit of going basically catatonic when stressed after being possessed. People didn’t seem to bother him if he just slept all the time. He managed to fizzle into the background.
Days seemed to pass quickly, mostly because he just slept. He slept through classes, he slept through meetings, he slept through free time. I don’t want to notice the way he looks at me.
Stupid. That's a stupid thought.
Inevitably, he couldn’t escape everything. Especially not the boy he was basically living with.
“Are you going to come up to breakfast?” It was a flat tone, but his stupid eyes were so caring. He had a walkie talkie in his hands, probably from talking to El.
“Joyce said she needs to see you eat before she can go to work.” Will finally reconnected their gaze after thinking about Mike and El talking, maybe even saying "I love you" like real couples do. And suddenly, the caring look in his eyes slipped away.
Will had a different kind of hate bubble up now. He hated Mike. Not for what he is, but for how he is.
Why is he hiding? What is he hiding? Why can't he just pick between ignoring Will, and devoting all his attention to him?
“Okay.” Short and sweet. Well, bittersweet. It was the only thing Mike could tolerate. If Will tried to really speak to him, he’d run off with some more bitter than sweet excuse.
“Sorry Will, I’m just really tired.”
“Sorry Will, I just have to talk to Lucas first.”
“Sorry Will, I just don’t want to talk right now.”
“It’s not my fault you don’t like girls.”
Fuck, he’s not supposed to think about that. The world’s ending, it doesn’t matter, it was a stupid argument. It’s so stupid.
He liked that word. He hopelessly repeated it to himself after him and Mike fought. Health gurus on TV always blabbered about mantras, so maybe this was just his mantra. Maybe if he watered everything down enough, he wouldn’t have to fight through the molasses-like experience of the full feeling. The full feeling of being in love.
Ew.
“Will. Will?” Hands were on his shoulders. Mike’s hands. “Please stop zoning out like that. It’s not even zoning out, it’s like you totally transport to another place. Come on.” He gave another glance with his stupid eyes before running up the stairs, not staying to make sure Will had actually snapped out of his trance. Not staying to see if he was okay.
Whatever, it’s Will’s fault for getting his hopes up. Plus he has bigger problems right now, like that if he doesn’t go up to eat breakfast his mother will burst into the basement with tears uselessly springing from her eyes.
He sat across from Mike even though there was a seat open next to him. It was only empty because Nancy had target practice to get to. After a while he regretted sitting in his line of sight, especially since he couldn’t truly avoid Mike’s gaze. Everyone had sort of distanced themselves from both Mike and Will now that they weren't really friends. Everyone seemed to tip-toe around them, which Will was all too familiar with.
Mrs. Wheeler clearly noticed the odd silence that now settled over the table, especially since she was sober this morning. “Mike! Honey, how’d you sleep? I heard you shuffling around last night.”
Apparently she was a good enough actress to restart the mind numbing noise of chatter. But apparently she wasn’t a good enough actress for Mike. His eyes stared into Will’s, but this time neither of them looked away.
Back in the basement, back to the quiet hum of the light. Back to the awful lingering feeling that was the lost days of D&D and laughter. It was a sense of community that Will wasn’t sure he’d ever feel again.
“Will!”
Jesus, could people stop saying his name-
Wait. A weird silence settled as the cogs turned in his brain. It wasn’t just any person.
“Mike? Did you leave something down here?” It was a stupid question. Mike didn’t come down to the basement anymore. It was more of a filler piece of content to silence the silence. Though honestly, Will couldn’t imagine that Mike would’ve come down for anything close to a real conversation, which is why he kept his eyes on the cracks in the floor. His eyes dried out, why wasn’t anything happening? Did Mike leave and he just zoned out so hard he didn’t notice?
“What are you thinking about?” Nope. He couldn’t be so lucky. Mike’s voice was so hesitant. So shy. He was more confident back on the swing set– no– he can’t think about that either. It caused him to feel so much. He shouldn’t be feeling. There isn’t any time for that.
“Mm,” he mindlessly nodded his head, not really registering what Mike was even saying. He didn’t really have to recently, since all of their interactions were colder than-
His wrist was warm. His wrist was warm because Mike had wrapped his fingers around it. Not now. Why are you doing this now? Why are you being so confusing now?
“El told me something this morning. She told me about the painting.”
“Well, more like she told me how much she didn’t know about the painting.”
“What are you hiding from me?”