Chapter Text
THE CRAWL
┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈
Cold.
A young Will Byers curled in against himself, his body trembling violently as every muscle spasmed from chills. The air was thick, darkness creeping into the infamous Castle Byers. A place that was once Will's safe space, built with the help of his older brother. It was his home away from home--- a place he could run to for anything. Maybe his deadbeat father was screaming, calling him every slur in the book. Or perhaps he just needed a quiet place, even when he wasn't upset. Years of drawings and faded photos lined the walls, dancing against the wood slowly from the occasional gusts of wind. An overwhelming blue hue cascaded over the entire area, dark and cold and devoid of the life it all once had.
"Should I stay or should I go now?" Will sang quietly, teeth chattering as he shivered against the ground. The lyrics swam through his brain, once a tune that could soothe his nerves in an instant. Sadly, the comfort that those words once provided was out of reach, much too far for Will to grasp onto. It was his life jacket in his deep, dark sea of fears, and this time, he was meant to drown.
The crackle of lightning, followed by the brash boom of thunder, startled Will, causing him to sit up straight in an instant. His heart pounded in his ears, deafening like a speaker at its highest volume. Will wheezed, each breath feeling much less effective than the last. A twig snapped, and a low snarl echoed in close range.
Shit.
Eyes wide, Will froze, staring beyond the cracks in the wood as he tried to focus on what was outside his not-so-safe space. A shadow lurked, circling the wooden frame until it paused. A lightly tattered piece of notebook paper stayed flat against the wall, little trees drawn in crayon covering the page. The stagnance broke along with the wall as a claw pierced through, tearing the drawing into pieces. Will's heart broke, but he didn't have time to wallow. His blood ran cold as he stumbled to get up.
A demogorgon screeched, baring its disgusting cluster of teeth, spitting out as it snarled. Will reached for his gun, slipping a shaky finger against the trigger. The force was enough to startle it backwards, giving Will the opportunity to run.
Will stumbled through the upside-down, focusing on keeping his balance steady. Once he reached a tree, he threw himself up over the branches, climbing as fast as he possibly could to the very top. Bright red lightning flickered in the sky, providing just a smidge of light so he could see further into the distance--- and yet it still seemed like there was nothing else in sight. The sky returned to its dark state, eerie and oddly quiet.
Just when he thought he was in the clear, the demogorgon found Will. It began its ascension up the tree, causing Will's chest to rise and fall rapidly. Shit. SHIT! What was he going to do? His legs felt numb. Every nerve in his body tingled but didn't actually feel, and not a single body part felt like it belonged to him anymore. His eyes locked on another nearby tree. It was now or never.
Will leapt into the air, his arms swinging frantically as he aimed for the other tree. Unfortunately, he miscalculated the distance. His fingertips brushed the bark just before he fell to the ground with a loud thump. While his backpack broke his fall, it still knocked the breath out of him, leaving him wheezing as he tried to pull in as much air as he could.
"William."
Will wanted to move, but he couldn't. Frozen in place against the ground, Will stared up with wide eyes as Vecna slowly approached. Wet, slick vines slithered around his limbs, lifting him into the air as Vecna closed in.
"Do you understand why you have been chosen?"
Will gasped as one of the vines tightened around his neck. He tried to reach up, to dig his nails in and pull, but his arms were too weak. His lungs ached and burned, begging for oxygen. He needed to breathe. His brain was starting to get fuzzy, and his vision clouded from tears.
"You have one of the weakest minds I have ever seen," Vecna growled, his voice dark and crackling in the back of his throat. He took a hand to Will's face, tracing a long, dirty fingernail along Will's cheek. "So small and easy to manipulate. You will be my easiest project yet."
Will closed his eyes tightly, silently praying for it all to be over. "P-Please," Will whispered, his voice hardly even there. Because when was his voice ever loud enough?
"William."
"No," Will breathed, this time a little louder. His voice was hoarse, laced with a mix of unmistakable fear and the intent to live. "No."
"Will."
...
...
...
"Will!"
Will sat up, his blanket pooling around his waist as he blinked rapidly. Before him was Mike, crouched down at the side of Will's makeshift bed on the cold basement floor. Will clutched his chest, desperate to pull in a full breath. His skin was slick, radiating a frantic heat that felt like a fever breaking; his sweater was heavy and wet against his skin, sticky and drenched from sweat and tears. He couldn't speak; the details of his nightmare paralyzed him with fear and unresolved trauma.
"Will, are you okay?" Mike gripped Will's shoulders, digging his fingers into the damp fabric of Will's sweater. "What's wrong? What happened?"
Will swallowed hard, his throat dry and cotton-like. "...Can't."
"That's okay," Mike pulled Will against his chest, holding him in a tight embrace. "That's okay. We don't have to talk about it. I'm here."
At first, Will flinched. His body jolted under Mike's touch. But after a few seconds, Will's breathing slowed, and his lungs began to ache a little less. He closed his eyes, his lashes fluttering against Mike's now tear-soaked t-shirt. "Sorry."
"What---" Mike gently pushed halfway from the hug, his hands still resting on Will's shoulders. His brows furrowed, baffled by Will's apology. "What are you even sorry for?"
"Shirt," Will managed to reply, swallowing back a sob as he tried to calm himself down.
Mike shook his head, his brows relaxing. "It's not a big deal. Besides, did you think I was gonna wear this to school?"
"Right," Will replied, averting his gaze. He stared down at the floor and took in a deep breath. God, his mind was fuzzy. Like it wasn't his own. And it wasn't. His mind was never his own, always encaptured by Vecna's sick grasp. Will's stomach twisted, much like the long-distant vines that once held him captive. As his mind resupplied the images of his nightmare, Will's trembling fingertips slid across his neck, feeling the smooth skin. He traced along his Adam's apple and swallowed, grounding himself with the sensation. Alive. Still here. Still me.
Mike stood up and brushed himself off, staring down at Will with his usual doe eyes. "I'm gonna go get dressed. Do you want to skip today? I can tell my parents I'm sick, and we could sit up in my room and read comics or something. Take your mind off... whatever it is that happened."
It was a lifeline. A beautiful, safe lifeline. But as much as Will wanted to stay in and relax, he knew he couldn't. He'd have to tell his mom why he's skipping, and she had the ability to read Will to absolute filth. Will could not keep anything from that woman if he tried. And if he had to open up about his nightmares, he was worried he'd be treated like glass again. Fragile. Brittle. He was sick of everyone walking on eggshells around him, coddling him and acting as if he was going to shatter into a million pieces.
"No," Will pushed himself to get up, slow and unsteady. "I'm fine, Mike. That's... nice, though. Thanks. I just need to change so we can head out."
Will grabbed the hem of his sweater, staring down at his white knuckles. So pale, colorless, and zombie-like. Zombie boy. Freak. Will sighed and lifted his head only to find Mike standing silently, watching him. Mike stared with a heavy intensity, searching for cracks, maybe. Waiting for Will to fall apart. At least, that's what it felt like to Will.
"Uh," Will cleared his throat, the sound sharp in the quiet basement.
Mike jumped as if he’d been electric-shocked. A deep, sudden red flooded his cheeks, reaching all the way to the tips of his ears. "Oh— Right! Yeah. Right. Sorry. I’m... I’ll be upstairs." He practically tripped over his own feet as he scrambled up the stairs, the door slamming with a bang that made Will flinch.
Left in the silence of the cold Wheeler basement, Will's ears rang with an intensity so vile he couldn't focus enough to let it dissipate. Although hesitant, Will tugged on the edges of his sweater and pulled it off of him, the fabric heavy and wet from his prior sweat and tears. It dropped to the floor with a loud thud, causing Will to wince. Chest bare, Will shuffled over to the mirror and stared. His own gaze could've burned a hole in the glass as he stared until his face was a blur. With every blink, he saw those vines again. The claw marks on his chest, rough and red and deep. But when his eyes focused in on his reflection, his true reflection, his chest was smooth. Not a single scratch in sight.
"Will! We gotta go!" Mike called out from the top of the stairs.
After a sharp inhale, Will pulled on a fresh shirt and headed upstairs.
Walking through the loud school halls, Will kept his arms crossed over his chest like a shield. Although the variety of voices in the halls was overwhelming, he didn't have the energy to feel all of it. Next to him was Mike, one hand wrapped around the right strap of his backpack as the other strap hung behind his back. Mike, his anchor--- the only person who made him feel like he wasn't a complete mistake, as he indirectly confessed once behind El's name.
"Shit," Mike muttered under his breath, staring straight ahead with his brows dipped in anger.
Will followed his eyes until he noticed Dustin being thrown against a locker, his Hellfire shirt ripped, exposing part of his chest. "...Shit."
Will absolutely hated high school. Bullies were even worse than before, especially to Dustin. Dustin never stopped wearing his Hellfire shirt. It made Will wish he had the chance to meet Eddie, especially since Mike seemed to care about him a lot as well. He remembered finding Mike's Hellfire shirt in his closet once when he was looking for a hoodie to steal. The thought of Mike wearing it made Will's breath catch, and that was enough for him to slam the closet door and never talk about it again.
From the other end of the hall, Lucas made his way to the group, standing tall.
"Well, would you look at that," Andy huffed, trailing his tongue along the edge of his top teeth as he scowled. "It's the traitor."
Lucas rolled his eyes and stepped closer into Andy's space. "What the hell is your problem, Andy? I'm pretty sure I've told you time and time again to leave Dustin alone. I'll get your ass kicked off the team so fast you won't even be able to watch another game again."
"Please," Andy pushed Lucas's chest, smirking as he stumbled back. "You couldn't do shit, even if you wanted to."
"I'll kick your ass," Lucas rolled up his sleeves, a low growl escaping the back of his throat.
"Or your sister could just kick him in the balls again," Mike called out. Behind him, Will followed, watching in silence. "Stop this meathead from reproducing and further infecting the world with his unique brand of idiocy."
Will felt a slight, traitorous smile tug at his lips. It was a stupid joke, but it was Mike. For a second, the vines from his cold nightmare felt a thousand miles away. Mike looked back at him, his dark eyes softening just for a fraction of a second, and for that heartbeat, Will felt like he belonged to himself again.
Then Andy spoke.
"Not like you'd know anything about reproducing," Andy sneered, his gaze flicking between Mike and Will with a calculated cruelty. "Pretty sure faggots can't reproduce."
The world didn't just go quiet; it went dead.
The word hit Will like a physical blow to the stomach, knocking the air out of him just like the fall from the tree. Suddenly, Andy’s voice sounded like Lonnie’s. Trembling from head to toe, he backed up; a depressing attempt to create space between himself and the group.
"The fuck did you just say?"
Will's eyes widened as Mike gripped the collar of Andy's shirt. "Mike, don't---"
"I said," Andy smirked, knowing full well that he had Mike exactly where he wanted him. "Faggots. Can't. Reproduce."
Mike slammed Andy up against the locker, causing Dustin to jump and move to Lucas's side. Lucas reached out, placing a hand on Mike's shoulder. "Mike, hold on---"
"NO," Mike shrugged Lucas's hand off, pinning Andy to the lockers. "Who the fuck do you think you are? He's---"
The words faded. Will couldn't bear to listen anymore. His sneakers squeaked against the tile as he stumbled toward the bathrooms. Within seconds, he was locked inside a stall, curled up on the floor with his head between his knees. The faint smell of toilet water broke through his stuffy nose, eliciting a grimace. He leaned his head back against the wall, tears streaming down his face as he held his knees up to his chest.
Mike didn't deserve to be subjected to such a slur. That sin entirely belonged to Will. He dug his nails into his jeans, and if he had just a little more energy, he likely could've torn through the denim. He was so sick of being the reason his friends were targeted. Sure, Dustin wasn't helping much either with that damn shirt, but Will was the black sheep. The secret that wasn't even a secret--- a word thrown over his head like the thick burlap sack of a kidnapper. Between the upside-down and the hell that was high school, Will couldn't catch a break. He wasn't allowed to make decisions for his own body or his mind. Not even his identity.
And he'd be damned if he was going to let that pain pass onto Mike.
"Will?"
As if on cue, Mike's soft voice broke through the ringing in Will's ears. His name always sounded so beautiful coming out of Mike's mouth; it reminded Will of the crack of dawn. The sound of birds chirping, the smell of morning dew scattered across freshly-cut grass. It was a strong contrast from the deep growl of Vecna's voice, a voice Will couldn't push out of his mind no matter how hard he tried. And still, hearing Mike say his name made it fade away for a split second. Even if it was just a second.
Will's front teeth tore into his bottom lip, the skin shredded and metallic in taste. Words formed in his head as he prepared a response, but his throat was too tight. The walls of the foul-smelling bathroom stall began to close in. When he blinked, Will swore he saw those vines slipping in. He closed his eyes tight, squeezing the last bit of tears he had down his cheeks. He felt empty, like every bit of energy in his body was pulled out of him without warning.
A hand on his shoulder ripped his hazel orbs open, tears burning the raw corners of his eyes. He jolted, an electrical current rushing through his veins as he processed what he was seeing. At some point, Mike must have slipped under the stall, because he was down on one knee with his hand on Will's shoulder.
"Hey," Mike spoke softly, his voice feather-light like his touch. "I'm so sorry about those stupid mouth breathers. Are you okay?"
It took a minute, but as the tears dried, Will's vision was no longer cloudy. He searched Mike's face, his eyes immediately landing on his lips. Busted. A splotch of dried blood painted the corner of Mike's lip. It took every bit of willpower Will had to not reach out and touch. He finally looked up into Mike's eyes again, the pink tint on the black-haired boy's face going unnoticed.
"Your lip," Will whispered hoarsely. His own bottom lip trembled, preparing to fall into sobs, but he was empty. He had no tears left, no energy left.
Mike swallowed hard and nodded. "Y-Yeah, yeah. Andy landed a pretty solid punch. His stupid ring cut my lip. I'm fine."
"I'm---"
"If you apologize, I swear to God, Will," Mike fussed, although there was no true heat behind it. His lips cracked into a smile he couldn't hide. He squeezed Will's shoulders for a moment before standing up and outstretching a hand. "C'mon. Let's get to class, alright? Just a couple of hours and then we can listen to Robin's new broadcast."
Will nodded, allowing his fingertips to collide with Mike's palm as he stood up, shaky and unsure. "Thanks for um... defending me."
"Always," Mike replied, although relatively quiet.
The minute they left the stall, Will took in a few deep breaths. The hallways were empty now. They were both late for class. Will felt an overwhelming pang of guilt, and the words "I'm sorry" formed on the tip of his tongue. But apologizing would only make him feel worse, so he kept it in.
He always kept it in.
"You cannot escape me, William."
Will's little body, limp against the strength of Vecna's vines, still buzzed with the twitch of each muscle as he tried to find the energy to fight. Nothing worked. His eyes, sunken in and colorless, locked on Vecna.
"He's going to save me," Will breathed. His voice was hardly audible over the strong winds of the upside-down. "I know he will."
"Do you honestly believe he cares for you, William?" Vecna asked, squeezing his claw into a fist to tighten his vines. Will gurgled, the last bit of air leaving his lungs in an instant. "He only felt sorry for you, asking to be your friend at that empty swingset. Ever since he found Lucas and Dustin, he has been trying to find a way to get rid of you. I am simply making it a much easier transition for him."
"That's not true," Will wheezed. His vision blurred, lashes fluttering and reflecting the bursts of red light before him. He needed a breath. The burn within his chest was brutal, hot enough to ache.
Vecna laughed, a sick, dark and twisted growl crackling in his throat. "When will you realize you are just a burden?"
Burden.
What a word. Six letters, so short and easy to say. It was the first word he ever heard out of his father's mouth. And, wrapped up in Vecna's slick vines, Will believed it would be the last word he'd ever hear.
"Don't act like you actually like acting so dull."
Will blinked, opening his eyes to find himself sitting at the lunch table. Dustin's voice had brought him back out of his dissociation. Had he really gone through the past two hours on autopilot? He stared across the table at Mike, who was of course staring right back at him. Without a single word, Will knew what Mike's eyes were asking.
Are you okay?
Will nodded, returning his gaze to the half-eaten sandwich on his tray. He hadn't remembered anything from the past two hours, and that terrified him. Where was he? Or rather, who was he? Was Vecna in the front of his mind that whole time? Did he say something out of character? No, no. Mike would've noticed.
...Right?
"I'm just saying, I'm sick of having to act so goddamn lowkey," Dustin wiped the spit from his lips with his sleeve.
Lucas downed the rest of his cola, crunching the can in his fist. "You think I don't know that? I'm not the biggest fan of it, either. But Hop specifically asked us to keep eyes off of us."
"Should be pretty fucking easy for you," Dustin retorted, standing up from the table with his tray in hand. "You're the most normal one in the party."
"I disagree with that," Mike cut in, attempting to dissolve the tension. But it was no use. Dustin dumped his trash and slammed the tray back on the table, eyes dark and dull.
The darkness in Dustin's eyes sent a chill through Will's body. Vecna felt close, closer than ever. But before he could get lost in his own mind again, the crackle of the radio broke through the tension.
"Hey there, friends! This is Rockin' Robin, coming at you live from the WSQK. Right now, we have a special treat for ya that is sure to turn your day upside-down."
"Holy shit," Lucas breathed, looking at the rest of the group.
"Already?"
"Paper, paper!" Mike called out, holding out his hand. "Someone give me paper!"
Will scrambled to pull his notebook from his bag, sliding it across the lunch table along with a pen. He got up from his seat and circled the table, opting to stand over Mike's shoulder.
"Before you start bumping, here's a few fun facts about the Boss. She was born Diane on the North End of Detroit. Berry Gordy, that's Gordy with a 'G', signed her to Motown in 1961. And--- And 'ONE' is the key number, because between 1964 and '67, the Supremes had TEN songs hit the top of the charts. That's right. TEN."
Mike's hand moved fast, the pen scribbling against the lined paper. If Will weren't so focused on the broadcast, he likely would've given himself time to doubt his feelings for Mike, because that handwriting was downright brutal.
The rest of Robin's broadcast was a slight blur, the words fading in and out of Will's ears. But by the time it was over, the group had gotten enough information for their next crawl.
And, of course, Will would barely have a part in it.
Ever since they'd started these crawls, Will was completely ignored and out of the question. The first time he'd asked was God awful.
"Absolutely not! You'll stay here, as always. How am I supposed to help you if you're miles away?"
...Yeah. Will decided not to ask ever again.
By the time the party had reached the forest, Will's head was fuzzy. He felt a numbing sensation in his arms, though he knew he still had the strength to move them. It was as if he could feel those disgusting vines twisted around his limbs, squeezing the life out of him.
"Will?" Mike asked softly. "You alright? You've been quiet."
"He's always quiet," Lucas cut in. He sat down at their usual picnic table, and the rest of the group soon followed.
Will looked down at the ground, counting as many leaves as he could see. He analyzed each shade, mentally picturing how he'd mix his paints to color-match. It seemed silly at the time, but this was one of his coping mechanisms. It was something he'd do to tune out the talk about the crawls, something to distract him from the fact that he was invisible to them.
That one's a rust shade.
"Lucas, we'll take our usual observation post."
Vermillion. Easy to mix.
"Once the burn starts, and there's sufficient cover, we'll signal Hopper--- who'll make his move."
Persimmon. Burnt orange. And--- Is that forest green? Huh. That's peculiar. Green leaves in November.
"...Just remember, try and keep the telemetry signal within---"
"Negative 60 and negative 70 dB. Easy-peasy."
Evergreen. Salmon. Carrot. Amber. Pumpkin. Emerald.
Lapis.
Will blinked heavily, but the sudden blue leaf didn't disappear --- it multiplied.
Sapphire. Indigo. Navy.
Will's chest felt like it was collapsing against itself as he sharply took in quick breaths. His eyes, wide and dry, searched the area around him. The picnic table was empty, the wood rotting from the center. Every leaf was a shade of blue. The trees, once a collection of oak and birch, were all plastered with cobalt and midnight blue. The life the forest once held was replaced with a cold, apocalyptic, ghostlike atmosphere. The air, chilly and thick, nearly knocked Will from his seat.
"William."
This time, Will wasn't young again. He was right there in the moment--- sixteen and yet just as afraid.
"Mike?" Will attempted to call out, but his voice was absolutely gone. Gone. Like his vocal cords had been ripped from his throat. Mike? Lucas? Dustin? Anyone?
"No one can hear you," Vecna growled. His voice was animalistic, a roar no different from that of a monster. "You cannot escape your sin."
Will's pupils shook violently as he searched around him. He couldn't see anyone or anything--- not even Vecna.
"Wh---" Will's lips moved in the formation of the word where, but he still couldn't speak. Without Vecna in sight, Will was unprepared to defend himself.
"You are not in control."
"WILL?!"
Will's world began spinning as he twirled in the middle of his own personal tornado. The sky turned into that of a full sink, the water circling down the drain until the pipes swallowed the last drop and---
"Will!"
Will took in a sharp breath as he fell against an oak tree. Oak. Ironically in the shade cedar. The bark pressed into Will's palms, textured and real. Unbeknownst to Will, Mike jumped over the picnic table and raced to his side. Dustin and Lucas followed closely.
"Will," Mike gripped Will's shoulder with an intensity that instantly grounded Will. "Hey, are you okay?"
Will leaned against the tree, slowly allowing himself to catch his breath. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."
"Was it him? Was it Vecna?" Mike asked, refusing to loosen his grip.
"I... I don't know," Will lied, mentally scolding himself for it. He hated lying to Mike. He'd only ever done it once before. But the thought of being coddled again, being treated like the most fragile thing in the world... that made him feel like a burden. And he was sick of it. "I just--- I had this, like, feeling, and then the sky was spinning. I-I guess maybe it's just nothing."
Mike raised an eyebrow, but ultimately decided not to push further. He knew when Will didn't want to talk, and he respected that. Maybe not always, but most of the time. "Maybe he's close. Either way, we all need to meet at the WSQK at six. Not a minute late, okay?"
"Okay," Lucas agreed. Dustin only offered the nod of his head.
"And you're okay?" Mike asked again, settling his fingers within the fabric folds of Will's jacket.
Will swallowed. He really wasn't okay. But this wasn't the time nor the place to talk about it. "I---Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure, Mike."
The more you lie to him, the worse it will be when he knows the truth.
Will shuddered, shoving his hands in his pockets as he followed the group out of the forest. He needed a good distraction, something to get him out of his head. Something to get Vecna out of his head.
"Hey, does anyone want to come with me to visit Max?" Lucas asked, placing his hands on the handlebars of his bike at the front of the school.
Dustin shook his head. "Can't. Got plans."
"I have to pick up Holly," Mike said, turning to face Will. "Are you coming with me?"
A good distraction.
"Actually, I think I'll visit Max," Will swung his leg over his bike. "I haven't seen her in a while."
Mike paused, lips parted like he was ready to say something. But he simply turned away and hopped on his bike. "Yeah, that's--- that's cool. I'll see you guys later, then."
"Later, Mike," Lucas waved.
Will felt a little guilty. Of course, he wanted to spend time with Mike, but everything within him was telling him to put up some walls. If he were to follow Mike, he knew he'd be questioned the minute they were alone together. And God, Will couldn't handle any more lying. Because, of course, the more he lied, the worse it would be when the truth was revealed.
"You ready?" Lucas prompted, tilting his head at Will.
"Yeah," Will adjusted himself on his bike seat. "Ready."
The room smelled heavily of sanitizer and a smidge of saline. The dim lights flickered above Max's head, and Will often wondered if she was somehow communicating, or if the lights were just really shitty.
"I had this weird feeling," Will admitted. Max's monitor beeped gently, rhythmic and stable. "Mike thinks it means Vecna's close. And Max... I can't lie to you. I think Mike may be right."
"What?" Lucas nudged Will's arm with his elbow, since both his hands were occupied around Max's left hand. "Dude, that's not good. We should tell the others, tell Mike---"
"No," Will stood up from his chair, the legs scraping against the tile with a loud and unpleasant noise.
"Will, come on," Lucas remained seated, his hands still intertwined with Max's. "Where are you going?"
"To--- To get a drink. Cola. Do you want one?" Will asked, although he wasn't too sure that he planned on coming back. He needed to be alone. He didn't want to admit what was happening to him. These visions were darker than he'd remembered, and the last time he opened up about dark visions... he was tested. Suddenly, the hospital felt like a reminder of that--- the machines, the needles, the restraints. Will just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.
Lucas wore a subtle frown, visibly concerned for his friend. "I-No, I'm good. Thanks, though."
Will quietly left the room, his sneakers squeaking against the shiny floors. The halls were dim, each light flickering with a low buzz that was almost enough to send Will into psychosis--- until he saw Robin down the hall.
"Rockin' Robin?" Will called out. Only, she didn't turn. He pouted, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment. His eyes followed her trail down the hall before she slipped into a room, sneaky and suspicious.
Will was curious--- but caffeine was his top priority. He dropped some coins into a vending machine, and a can of cola rolled out. Wrapping his hand around the can, the cold touch burned his fingertips. He wiped the side of the can against his jacket, drying some of the condensation. He then felt a slight pang of guilt, reminding himself that the jacket he was wearing was Mike's.
Back when they'd first gotten back to Hawkins from Lenora, the Byers family (including El and Hopper) was trapped due to a military lockdown. Naturally, Mike was quick to share. He had even offered to let Will sleep in his room with him, which stuck with Will for months. Of course, Will declined the sleepovers--- but no amount of fear in him could've kept him from sharing Mike's clothes. They always smelled like a strong, floral detergent mixed with something so uniquely Mike.
In the hospital hallway, Will cracked a smile, exhaling audibly through his nose. He was wearing Mike's clothes. What a dream. Of course, he felt immense guilt for the feelings he retained. But the guilt wasn't nearly as intense as it was before; before Mike and El were officially broken up. No, now, he could let himself feel, even if he knew it was wrong.
It was wrong, right?
The soft sound of giggles bled into the hall. Will tilted his head, possessing a look of pure curiosity. He shuffled forward, can in hand as he approached the slightly cracked door.
Holy shit.
Beyond the crack in the door stood Robin, giggling as she slid her hands down a nurse's arms. If Will had remembered correctly, the ginger-haired girl was named Vickie--- she had changed out Max's pillows a few times before. She was usually pretty quiet and reserved, but this time, she was laughing. Smiling. And her lips were pressed against Robin's.
Rockin' Robin. THE Rockin' Robin.
Will dropped the can to the ground, the aluminum cracking, causing sticky cola to spray across the floor. Will stumbled and ran, heart in his throat. The very person whom he'd believed to be a role model was kissing a girl. A girl kissing another girl. That wasn't a new thing for Will. Of course, he knew that there were people out there like that, like him. But not once had he expected anyone in his circle to be that way. Especially not in Hawkins.
By the time he'd made it to the front of the hospital, his chest was full of flames. How could it be possible? Two girls... kissing... and smiling.
You cannot escape your sin.
But they were happy. They were smiling. Smiling. Smiling. Smiling.
You cannot escape.
Smiling. Happy.
You cannot.
Can't... Be happy. Can't be that.
Will gripped his bike handles, knuckles white. Regardless of how happy Robin and Vickie looked, he knew he couldn't have that joy for himself. He would never have that same light in his eyes, not when Mike wasn't like him. He had to accept that, no matter how bad it stung. He didn't want to subject Mike to the same name-calling, the same slurs, the same pain. Mike deserved better. He hadn't been called queer his whole life like Will. Mike could walk through the halls and be a freak or a nerd, but he still fit into their world, even if he was technically an outcast. If Will reached for him, he'd be dragging Mike across a line that would be damn near impossible to uncross. So Will silently vowed to protect his paladin from such blasphemy.
Except for at school, when Will couldn't stop looking at him, and Andy made that sick comment.
Pedalling aggressively, Will followed his typical trail toward the WSQK. The sound of gravel crunching beneath his tires was surprisingly grounding, preventing him from slipping back into that brutal mindset he knew all too well.
The minute he pulled up, Will was different.
He slipped off his bike, his body stiff. His eyes locked on Mike and El, who were chatting quietly on the side of the building. Although Will had already known about the break-up, he still felt intense jealousy every time he saw them together. That jealousy was useless, though. Why allow himself to feel it if it would only lead to more pain? He could not have Mike. Not like---
"Little Byers!"
Will jolted, turning on his heel to face the driveway of the WSQK. There stood Robin by her car, her stance confident but her eyes full of fear. "O-Oh. Robin. Hey."
She knows she knows she knows.
"Hey!" Robin leaned against the hood of her car, clearly doing her best to gain control of her voice. "Where uh... Where did you come from?"
"Um... My mom," Will responded dumbly, knowing full well what Robin was trying to get at. She opened her mouth, brows dipped in a mix of confusion and annoyance, only to be cut off by Mike's voice.
Mike.
"Holy shit--- Dustin?"
Will and Robin paused their conversation, both turning to follow the voices. Near the main entrance, Mike and El were frantically questioning Dustin. Holy shit. Dustin. His face was rough, covered in bruises and dried-up blood. He looked like he had been beaten to a pulp.
"Jesus," Will breathed, immediately running up to Dustin. "What the hell happened?"
"Took a bad tumble off my bike," Dustin said, emotionless.
Will furrowed his brows. That definitely didn't seem right. Those bruises were deep, and the blood appeared thicker and slightly crusted. The criticism of Dustin's lie formed in Will's mind, but he refused to utter the words. He knew better than to question Dustin. It wouldn't be productive, and they still had the crawl. Plus, it wouldn't have been fair to criticize Dustin's lie, especially when Will was lying to himself at the moment. Lying to Mike. His visions were getting worse, and by hiding the truth, he was no better than Dustin. Only Will was beaten up internally, covered in bruises and scars that weren't visible.
"Guys," Robin looked down at her watch. "We should get inside. It's six."
Will followed the rest of the group inside, but not before sneaking a glance at Robin. And, yep--- she was already looking at him. She knows. She had to have known. Will, being a rather observant one, took a proper second to search Robin's eyes. She looked scared. Like, deer-in-headlights scared. And for once, a glimmer of hope sparked inside Will. Maybe someone understood him after all.
"Hey," Mike nudged Will's shoulder with his own, walking next to him as they shuffled through the WSQK. "You okay?"
Will nodded, avoiding eye contact altogether. "Uh--- Yeah. Just... tired. I don't know."
Mike didn't seem satisfied with that answer. He nudged Will's shoulder again. "You sure? You look like you're about to explode."
"I---" Will began. He wanted to admit the truth. But, shit, he had already lied this long. Wouldn't Mike be mad? Will couldn't handle that.
Wouldn't be the first time he's ever been mad at you, William.
The tightness in Will's throat intensified, akin to the feeling of the vines around his throat. He refused to close his eyes, now dry and burning from not blinking. No, he thought. I'm not going to see that again. It's not real.
"Will?"
He does not care, William. Do not burden him.
"I'm fine," Will pushed the words out with a force similar to that of a gun, nearly knocking Will down with the backfire. He balled up his hands into fists, digging his nails deep into his palms. He needed to use his grounding techniques. Something had to keep him here.
One. Two. Three. Will counted each stab of his nails against his palms, giving his best shot at focusing on the sharp sting. Somewhere within the fog of his mind, he heard Mike give a frustrated sigh--- one that intensified the guilt in Will's chest. Four. Will vaguely heard Dustin's voice, deep and emotionless, as he pulled Mike toward a stack of equipment. At some point, Will had reached one of the couches. The springs screamed beneath his weight, and for a second, his coping skills were useless --- snapping his focus like a twig.
A twig snapped, and a low snarl echoed in close range.
And just like that, the wounds deep inside of Will reopened, gushing like a dam that was doomed from the start. He wasn't sure whether to close his eyes and accept it, or hold onto the cushions for dear life. Of course, Will knew he wasn't dying, but his body was painfully unaware. The stinging pain of his fingernails ripping open his palm brought him right back to the scratches that once inhabited his chest, deep and sore. It was yet another reminder that his body wasn't his. It never was.
Eyes wide, Will froze, staring beyond the cracks in the wood as he tried to focus on what was outside his not-so-safe space. A shadow lurked, circling the wooden frame until it paused. A lightly tattered piece of notebook paper stayed flat against the wall, little trees drawn in crayon covering the page. The stagnance broke along with the wall as a claw pierced through, tearing the drawing into pieces. Will's heart broke, but he didn't have time to wallow. His blood ran cold as he stumbled to get up.
Will's eyes slammed shut, much like the door to the WSQK as the group filed out, moving as one. Will couldn't get the image of his younger self out of his head. And, quite literally, he saw himself. In third person, no less.
Was he seeing through... Vecna's eyes?
A demogorgon screeched, baring its disgusting cluster of teeth, spitting out as it snarled. Will reached for his gun, slipping a shaky finger against the trigger. The force was---
"Earth to little Byers?"
Will jolted against the cushions. His right leg bounced erratically, the arch of his foot growing sore from the intensity of it. He blinked and looked up to find Robin standing over him with a concerned expression.
"You good? Everyone left like, two minutes ago. Little Wheeler even tried to wave to you, and you were just frozen. It was creepy," Robin sat down next to Will, leaving a reasonable amount of space between them. It was nice that she cared, but Will wasn't quite sure he was ready to open up.
Will looked down at his hands in his lap, his palms red and irritated, indented with the crescents of his nails. "I was... in my head."
Oh. Okay. So maybe opening up to Robin was a little easier than Will anticipated. It was like his voice took charge without signaling his brain, which was obviously neurologically impossible; his mouth simply moved on its own. It was a drastic change from his mind being in control, something he couldn't pin down himself if he tried.
"Oh. Were you having one of your creepy-goosies moments? Should I get Joyce---I mean, your mom?" Robin leaned forward, resting her elbows against her knees as her eyes searched Will's face like she was skim-reading.
Will shook his head so fast that he physically felt his brain collide with his skull. "God, no. Please. I don't want to be coddled right now. And... yeah, I was... Wait. 'Creepy goosies'? Seriously, Robin?"
A smile spread across Will's chapped lips, cracking them further. Creepy goosies. Will's chest felt lighter, and oxygen filled his lungs much more effectively.
"I'm not really sure what else to call them," Robin smiled back. The corners of her eyes crinkled, mirroring the wrinkles in her sweater. "Do you... want to talk about what you saw?"
Burden.
"No," Will's tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Damn it. Just when he was starting to get comfortable, just when he believed he could open up, his mind took over yet again.
"Are you sure?"
Burden.
Will swallowed back the word yes. "No."
"So... you're not sure? Or you're saying you're sure it's a no? You're confusing me, little Byers." Robin sat up straight to run her fingers through her hair. She looked puzzled, still searching Will's face. But it didn't look like she was searching for cracks; she was searching for truth.
"I'm saying I'm not sure," Will finally admitted. His shoulders didn't feel as heavy anymore. God, was he talking about it? Was that possible? Was Will allowed to live in a world where he could be open?
Robin nodded, nibbling on her bottom lip for a split second. "Mmyeah okay, got it. So--- these visions. Have you been having 'em all day?"
"Kinda, yeah," Will tugged on the sleeves of his jacket--- Mike's jacket. And, oh God, he was opening up to Robin. Someone he hardly knew was receiving the information that Mike Wheeler would've typically heard first. And... there's that guilt again.
"Don't disappear on me, little Byers," Robin reached out to place a hand on Will's shoulder. "Keep them words comin'. I'll do my best to make sense of 'em."
I saw my younger self being tormented and tortured, and I can't tell anyone, especially my best friend, who, by the way, I'm secretly in love with, which is why I ran after I creepily spied on you kissing your girlfriend. Yeah, no. Will couldn't say that. He cringed at himself for such a ridiculously prepared run-on sentence. So instead, he said, "I heard Vecna's voice. It's like he kept cutting into my brain today, robbing me of moments I couldn't remember if I tried. I feel like I've barely been here at all."
Okay, yeah. That was definitely better than his run-on sentence.
"Oh! So you've been... dissociating," Robin leaned back against the cushions, looking up at the dusty ceiling. "I get that. I do that a lot. I guess it's not really the same as yours, considering you're literally seeing shit--- but I find ways out of it, and I'm sure you can too. You just gotta have an anchor. I--- I have someone who helps ground me. A um... A friend. Close friend."
Close friend. Yep. Sure. That's what Vickie was. Hell, if close friends could kiss, then Will was missing out on a lot from Mike, that's for sure.
"Are you talking about Vickie?" Will asked, regretting the words the minute they slipped out.
Before Robin could respond, the door slammed open, startling the two of them.
Joyce looked like she was out of breath. Her bangs clung to her forehead from sweat, and her eyes were wide and big. "Guys, I--- Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt... Um..."
"No," Robin jumped up from the couch, shoving her hands into her pockets. "No, I--- You didn't. Is... Is something wrong?"
Joyce's lips went flat, possibly holding back what she wanted to ask. And based on the look in her eyes, Will knew exactly what she was thinking. Oh, how badly he wanted to just come out and say, we're both gay, mom, don't worry. But those words were much too heavy, a weight attached to his heart that kept it drowning at the bottom of his ocean of fear.
"Everything is... fine," Joyce announced, although she didn't seem too sure herself. "I was coming to let you both know that Hopper has flipped. At least--- that's what Mike said."
Mike. The very person Will should've told about his visions. But instead, no, he told Robin.
When he discovers what you've been hiding, everything will come crashing down.
"No," Will blurted, not realizing he had spoken out loud.
Joyce and Robin both turned to face Will, and, in unison, "What?"
"I---" Will attempted to stand up from the couch, but his knees locked. His vision began to get blurry, and the room started spinning.
"Will?" Joyce lunged forward, grabbing hold of Will's shoulders to shake him. "Will, what's going on, honey? Will?"
Robin brought a hand to her lips, eyes wide as she watched. "Oh my God. He's having another one of his visions."
"Why would you---" Joyce paused, stopping to glare at Robin. "What do you know that he hasn't told me?"
As much as Robin wanted to keep it a secret, she knew better. This wasn't the time. "He's been hearing Vecna's voice all day."
"You shouldn't have told her, William."
Will's body fell to the ground, eyes white and empty as he spasmed against the cold floor of the WSQK basement.
"Open your eyes."
Will's chapped lips parted as he blinked, finding himself standing in front of the Wheeler house. The sky was dark and blue, the air thick and heavy. This wasn't real.
"Now he has to know about these visions," Vecna growled, his voice echoing in the air. "Because this time..."
The lights inside the house flickered violently, causing Will's entire body to tremble. No. NO. This wasn't real.
"Mike and Nancy might not be home... But she is..."
Will caught a glimpse of Holly staring out her bedroom window as the sharp edge of red lightning cut through the sky. Her eyes were wide, pupils blown. And across her face was a messy splatter of blood, evidence of a horror only Holly had seen.
Oh no.
A terrifying scream ripped through the air, piercing Will's eardrums like a knife.
Holly?
"You cannot save her."
"WILL!"
Will took in a sharp breath as he opened his eyes, tears clouding his vision immediately. His mother pulled him against her chest, too scared to let go.
"Oh my God, Will," Joyce pressed a kiss to his temple. "What happened? Tell me everything."
Will's pupils shook, each image replaying in his mind. "We... I... I need the walkie. I need to talk to Mike."
"What did you see?" Joyce asked, her hands still cupping Will's face with a tenderness only describable as motherly. "What did you see, Will?"
"He's coming," Will breathed, voice hoarse and heavy with emotion.
Joyce searched Will's eyes, brows furrowed in concern and confusion. "Who's coming, Will?"
"Vecna?" Robin cut in, immediately met with a fierce glare from Joyce yet again.
"Yes," Will managed to stammer out. "He's coming for Holly."
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