Chapter Text
Will likes being quiet. He likes not being noticed by anyone. Sometimes, not noticing anyone else makes you feel like they don’t perceive you either. So he tries keeping his head down and not speaking to anyone. That mostly worked.
It’s been weeks since he’d started volunteering. At first, he'd started it to be out of the house. Since first starting to sleep over at the Wheelers’ house, everything had just been too … packed. Too quiet. And maybe too loud. You know it’s really bad, when your thoughts contradict themselves.
Sleeping in the basement is a little too suffocating. Too … tight. Him and Mike ….
They talked. Ever since that day, they've been wanting to be close again, to be like how it used to be. And now, with Jane practicing everyday and still hiding from the government, nothing has changed. It’s as if every word had just been an illusion. Some days, Will wonders if that promise had even been meant that way. Or it was just him again. Him overthinking.
Just like at the Wheelers’ house, in the cold basement, Will doesn’t like being noticed when he volunteers, either. That was the least he could do, after all, right? When it’s his fault for everything that is happening.
They are kind of in between at the moment. Nothing much is happening. Will hates it that way. He’d rather just get it over with quickly. Just do something.
Maybe it’s better that way, though. Everyone is too busy surviving - with him having started anything that Will can’t forget about, he won’t - but they still manage to talk. Less about him being queer and more about him being weird. They need someone to blame, so they blame him.
Will stays quiet about it because they’re right. There are always the groups of jocks, or just general normal kids that tried to push him down. Will can’t really go anywhere without it being unsafe (as if anything was ever safe), so he rather just went over to volunteer. The only way to not feel bad for doing nothing when it was all really his fault, without being confronted by … everything else.
Maybe he should just die.
Will contemplates that, when he sat behind the table in the large hall, looking over at the boxes, lazily doodling, when suddenly, another body comes up in front of him.
He looks up and blinks, but immediately looks down.
All sorts of people come by here. Mostly not jocks because they were too busy trying to hunt them down to stop it all. With the military moving around, it is almost like a small cult still blaming Eddie for everything.
This boy, however …. Will knows him. Dark raven hair, tan skin. Lean, muscular. A jock from the basketball team.
Will wants to keep his head down, he really does, but he accidentally stares at him and blinks.
No, this is going to be all awkward, right?
“Just gotta-” the boy starts and sets the heavy box on the table. “Put that down,” he says and drops down onto his seat beside Will.
Will blinks and the boy stares back at him. “Come on, do something,” he says. “Or do you just sit there?”
“Uh, sorry.” Will frowns and opens the box. Not clothes. “Wrong box.”
The boy is still looking at him - why? -, but looks away again. “That idiot! he gave me the wrong box! I’m not going back, though.”
“You ….” Will blinks at the strange good-looking boy. He probably should just say whatever and keep his head down. “But it’s gonna mess it up.”
“I’d hope so,” the boy winks. “Maybe that shakes everyone here up a little.”
Will chuckles. This boy is really strange. “I think it’s shaken up enough already.”
“Cause of the earthquake.”
Now, Will has to laugh. “That was the joke!”
“I know!” They laugh and Will leans forward, tapping his pencil onto his paper. When will this be over? Probably immediately when the jock asks for his name. Will hasn’t had a normal conversation with someone in forever. They usually tap out when they find out who he is.
“Are you saying I’m dense?”
“No, no!”
“Ten seconds of meeting,” the boy shakes his head. “But I have a feeling like I know you.”
Will shifts. “Yeah?”
“You’re-”
“Will Byers,” Will answers because he’d rather just get it over like that instead of letting it hang in the air. He immediately shrinks into hismelf and turns back to his drawings, feeling small. There, just like that. He notices the boy deflate, as if he’s realizing something.
“Oh,” he says without any subtlety. But, instead of turning cold and leaving him to sit there, he leans back. “Well, I’m Chance.”
Will turns to him, surprised. Oh. He’s-
“Oh. Hi…”
“Will Byers. I’ve heard of you.”
“Oh, well.” WIll sights because he already knows what's coming. “I’m already drawing my cult’s next plans to hit Hawkins, as you can see.”
The boy - Chance - laughs. He really has a pretty smile. The type where your entire face lights up. Will wants to draw him.
That’s a weird thought to have. He looks away. Why is Chance being so comfortable, as if this is normal? Shouldn't he be disgusted at him? Or just weirded out?
“I really like this drawing. Is this what you do all the time, here? I would, if the only thing I can do wasn't basketball. Maybe I should just balance my ball here to show off, then.”
Will laughs. “Right, you’re the stereotypical jock.”
“Oh, you couldn’t tell.”
“I could, that's the thing!”
“You’re saying I’m dense again, Byers?”
Will shakes his head, laughing. Wow. It really isn’t usual for him to talk to someone so freely. He misses this. But, wait- Isn't this….
Will presses his lips together. “Are you friends with Jason Carver?”
“What jock in Hawkins is not friends with Jason?,” Chance asks with his light tone again. He seems to realize that Will isn’t joking, when Will starts to sort through the box to not have to look at him. This is stupid. He’s one of them …. Will isn’t a judging person, but he feels uncomfortable. Yeah, he’s carrying this box away.
He picks it up and looks down at Chance, who’s still sitting, leaning back lazily.
“I am,” he says and Will looks away, walking to carry the box over. Right. This is going to be uncomfortable. How often does Chance have to volunteer?
When he comes back, Chance is still sitting there, looking at him with a strange look, as if he’s trying to backtrack.
Will sits a bit away.
“I know my friends, they’re a bit weird. Right now, they’re all a bit freaked out.”
“Calling my friends satanic, you mean?”
“Yeah… they’re all from the church, you know? A bit messed up in the head right now.”
“Isn’t everyone going to church in Hawkins?,” Will asks awkwardly.
Why is he still trying to talk to him? Chance should’ve stopped when he realized who he was, but now … he’s still talking to him, as if he wants to. It’s uncomfortable.
“Your friends. You’re … not like them, right? Eddie Munson's group, I mean.”
Will shifts uncomfortably. “I don’t know anything about a group. I … just have friends, and they're not evil or anything….” If Chance knew that Will was basically evil in human form himself, he wouldn’t talk nicely right now.
He feels Chance’s gaze on his side.
“Right. I guess I have to apologize. For my friends, I mean.”
Will looks at him with a slight frown. “It’s fine,” he says softly.
“No, no. They’re being assholes. Everyone is, right now, but they … I’m not like that. I wanted to tell you that.”
“Why?”
“I mean… I’m going to volunteer here often, so?”
“Okay. I … forgive you. It’s not weird or anything. They aren’t that much anymore, actually.”
“Right.” Will scratches his neck, sighing and putting his sketchbook away, at the same time that Chance says “No!”
“What?”
“The drawings. They were almost starting to make sense.”
“Are you-” Will huffs out a disbelieving laugh. “Making fun of me?”
“If you call me dumb, can I call you untalented?”
Will chuckles. “I didn’t. Maybe a little dense.”
“So you did call me dense!”
“I-” Will frowns. “How does that matter?” He’s actually not feeling well at the moment, so this really is distracting him.
“I’m just messing with you, Byers. I couldn’t see any demonic rituals on that page, though. It looked more like a bird.”
Will flushes. “Well, yeah. It’s … Sorry, I won’t draw anymore when we’re volunteering together.”
“No!,” Chance immediately tracks back. “I didn't mean that. You're actually really good at drawing. That’s just my humor.”
“Oh. But you've just seen this-”
“In Art class.”
Will frowns. “Art class?”
“Oh. Byers, you wound me!”
“Are we in Art class together?”
“Yes!” Chance laughs. “You never notice anyone. I just remembered your face, but I didn’t know your name,” he explains.
“Oh.” Will didn’t notice. A jock in Art class? Usually, they'd rather be in different classes. Will is one of the only boys in his course, so shouldn't he have noticed by now?
“But I noticed your pretty eyes,” Chance says with a shift in his expression, a soft smile, making Will immediately pause in his movement. What?
He feels his entire body blush. There’s no way…!
“I-” Will stares at him from the side, then looks away frantically. “I don’t…”
“Maybe you should draw yourself. It would be a way prettier motive.”
“You…” Will pauses. There is no way… is Chance flirting with him right now? With ... him? No. No, Will is being crazy. Is this some sort of joke? There’s no way anyone …. a boy, a popular jock would be flirting with him. He’s just messing with him.
Before Will can get over his blushing, Chance gets up and leaves him there. “Well, Byers,” he says. “See you around. Let’s hope you’ll notice me in the future.”
…
Chance lied. He hadn’t only known Will Byers’ name before, but he’d actually been planning the entire conversation.
He was so stupid.
Actually, Chance had started noticing Will Byers the moment he came back from California. Or that was what he had heard, at least.
His friends always talk about Will Byers, the Zombie boy. So, naturally, Chance had been interested. It wasn't his fault! It just came that way. That he’d started watching him at school. At first, it'd just been simple curiosity. Obviously, nothing else. And then …. then it had started to become more.
Because Will Byers …. isn't weird. Maybe he is, but not like how Chance had expected. He isn't loud like Munson had been, no. He is … quiet. Like he wants to disappear completely. Will is so quiet, it’s insane how small he makes himself. Even though he isn’t small, no, not at all. Will Byers is not small, Chance knows that.
And yet. he has a feeling he thinks people don’t notice him. Or at least wishes to. While he himself is always in his own head, Chance can see that. He wanted to find more about him. About Will Byers, Zombie Boy, or the quiet boy with pretty eyes that looks like an angel when he notices him in Art Class.
Actually, Chance had only switched to Art class to talk to him. Isn’t that embarrassing? It kind of is. Chance usually has no problem talking to anyone. Just, Will Byers … seems so mysterious. Like he's part of something that Chance has no way of ever even seeing the entrance to.
And today, he’s finally talked to him. To Will, who was so closed off. Like he didn't expect him to even be nice to him. He doesn’t, does he?
Chance drives back home and gets in. Of course, his mother is sitting on the couch.
“Chance,” she croaks. “Did you see your father?”
Chance wanted to just walk past, now he is stuck with her. “No, mom.”
“The bastard’s out all day.”
Chance goes quiet. Because that's what no one knows about him. Maybe being a jock is better than known for whatever this is.
“Mom. Are the girls still at the dance?”
“What do you think?,” she slurs angrily, making no effort to get up from the cranky armchair.
Chance sighs annoyedly and walks over to his room to drop his bag off. Someone has to do it, he guesses.
So he walks past his mother to come get his siblings home because no one else does it.
Where the hell is his father? None of them know, these days.
…
When Will comes home later that day, it’s the usual sight. The Wheeler house is empty. Normally, he and Mike would bike home together, But …. it’s just awkward, in a way. One of them always has to make a move to ask because they don’t do it every day, after all. And Will doesn't because he knows Mike doesn’t want to. He doesn’t even have to say it. Honestly, Will prefers it if he doesn’t.
He knows Mike doesn't want him, anyways.
But something is strange. Because Mike doesn't just sit at the kitchen counter like he’s mourning the dead. But today, he does.
Oh.
Will stands still in the kitchen frame, taking in the sight of Mike at the table. He’s sitting there, hunched into himself, barely holding himself together.
And Will still cares.
Because his heart breaks at the sight.
“Mike?,” he says softly. They don’t talk, but still…
Mike looks up immediately, as if he'd been caught doing something bad. “Will,” he says. For a moment, they just look at each other and Will wishes that it didn't hurt, when he looks at his best friend. His best friend that he doesn’t talk to, at all, anymore. He wishes it was different, but it won’t be.
“Are you … what are you doing?”
“Nothing much,” Mike says in a way that’s so unlike him that Will sits down at the other end of the table with him.
“Is it … because of Jane?”
Mike turns his head to him, his jaw shifting as if he wants to say something. But he shakes his head.
“It’s nothing.”
“You can tell me.” Yeah right. As if Mike would tell him anything.
“You shouldn’t worry about me. I’m serious, it’s nothing!,” Mike says loudly, as if to convince them both. The kitchen is quiet. “I didn’t really keep my promise at all.”
“It’s fine-”
“No, I said we’d be close again and we’re not! Why aren't you saying anything? It's weird, Will! We used to be-”
“Friendships change,” Will says, even though he doesn’t even like his own words. All so they wouldn't talk about that summer when he’d been thirteen. What Mike had said…
“But we don’t, Will! I thought we’d always be… You know, you and me! And now it´s all like this! You can't even say more than five words to me at once!”
Why does Mike sound accusatory? Will looks down. “You know why that is, Mike.”
“I-”
“It was you who could barely hug me at the airport.” The moment the words leave Will's mouth, he notices Mike's shift, as if he'd been slapped.
“That’s not fair-”
“It is, Mike. I don't understand what you’re doing here. I know we don’t talk about it, but maybe I do. It was you who never called-”
“That’s not fair, Will! You should've reached out more, I-I-”
“Me?” Will hates arguing with Mike because he already always has tears in his eyes when he’s barely even talking. Now he feels like he'd been hit straight to the chest. “But I waited for your letters every day, Mike.”
“What?,” Mike exhales and Will knows he's said too much. He can’t even look at MIke in that moment, it all feels too much…. “But I waited for your-”
“It’s not- It’s not important.” Will gets up. “You had a lot to do with Jane and you didn’t think about me, that’s fine.” He really, really tries to make it sound like he doesn’t care, but he can’t.
Will always watches to not call Jane El because it was degrading. She deserves more than her lab number.
It’s just …. too much at that moment. Will feels that tightness in his throat again, threatening its way to completely shit him up. Maybe it's better this way. He just wants to be in his room and cry.
Wow. Could he not cry for one moment?
“Is that what this is about?,” he hears Mike call out behind him when Will moves out of the kitchen, Mike coming after him.
“Well, maybe yes, Mike! Who forgets their friends when they have a girlfriend-”
“I didn’t! You’re being unfair, Will! Why is this on me?!”
They’re standing in the middle of the living room now. Mike sounds desperate, Will is desperate and so tired. Suddenly, it all seems ridiculous.
“I can't talk about this right now-”
“Why not, Will? No, I want to talk about it! Why won't you-”
“Mike!,” Will calls out, making them both wince. “Can you stop?” Can't Mike see the tears in his eyes? How embarrassing this is for him?
“But I just-”
Will turns around. This is so embarrassing! It’s so …. He wipes his tears with his sleeve and feels Mike come up behind him.
“I’m sorry, Will! I’m sorry,” Mike says softly. Will is still looking down at the floor when he sees Mike's hand raise up to his arm, but Will pulls back. How dare he act like this right now?! Like they're back to how it was before? Like Mike still cares? Why is he always ripping Will’s heart out of his chest and doesn’t care one bit? Because he doesn’t know …. Mike has always been clueless, but not stupid.
Will just wants to be out of there.
“Will, can you look at me?” Mike sounds scared.
“I… You wanted to argue? Pick a fight with me?”
“Will-,” Mike pulls back, as if he's realizing what they're actually doing. But now, Will is angry. He’s just so tired.
“No. You’re asking why this is on you? Because I wrote to you. And I felt bad for it. Even though we’re supposed to be best friends. But it's not like that.”
“Will! That's unfair! I didn't-"
“I was lonely there. I-” Will is opening up, throwing it all out, while the tears are burning in his eyes. He doesn’t want this… the living room is too small, Mike is right there…
“I-,” Mike starts, but immediately startles when the house door opens up and a tired Mr Wheeler walks inside, as if nothing was happening.
Will and Mike are still standing in the middle, with teary eyes. Ted Wheeler stands at the door and looks at them with tired eyes, confused.
“Good afternoon,” he says, nodding towards Will and Mike.
This is a new level of embarrassment. Will never knows how to act in front of Mr Wheeler. He sees it in the looks that he throws him, the words unsaid. He knows, or at least he thinks that Will is queer. That he is a bad influence for Mike. And now they’re crying in the living room together.
Or maybe he'd just imagined Mike crying. Mike wouldn't cry because of him…. No.
Will looks down and whispers; “It’s fine, I wanted to go anyway.” But he’s sure Mike hears it.
“Will!,” Mike calls after him from the living room, but he’s already out the door.
…
“So, how is it being hunted by the government?,” Will asks his sister. They're sitting outside of Hopper's cabin. After the … fight with Mike, he'd brought her eggos and juice to chug and now they’re trusted to be alone and talk.
Honestly, Will was never close to Jane. They could just never connect like the others did because of everything. But ever since Lenora, Will feels like they're really siblings.
“I get to eat eggos,” she replies and smiles at him, then looks back at the woods. “You are bothered.”
“I am not…,” Will lies and looks at his lap. Being with Jane always kind of left him with a second feeling of guilt. If she knew…. if she knew. No, she wouldn't be bothered. She wouldn’t understand because it wasn’t even right.
“Friends don't lie,” Jane says intently.
Will sighs. "It's just … Mike. We got into a fight.”
“Mike behaves like a mouth breather.”
“Sometimes,” Will huffs out with a small nervous laugh. “You know how he didn't write to me at all, when we were in Lenora?”
Jane nods. "It's weird.”
“Maybe not …. I don't know. Maybe he was right about me not reaching out and I just ….”
“It wasn't your fault,” Jane repeats with her simple tone.
“Thank you, but … I don't know.” Will smiles weakly.
“He cares for you,” Jane says blankly. Will blinks and looks at her. “Max said to be yourself and spend time with your interests.”
She's trying to tell him to think about something else. Wil smiles and nods at her.
“Do you want to sleep here today?,” Jane asks
Will shakes his head, but it’s a nice gesture, so he smiles. There is no way he'd steal their space like that, in the small cabin. And not after the fight with Mike. It just seems like he wants to be petty and pick a fight again.
Think about something else.
Maybe he can think about … Chance, who hadn't gotten out of his head since volunteering after school today. His thoughts kept rerunning to the other boy.
But in the end, he's probably just messing with him. His own best friend doesn't want to talk to him, after all.
Even though Will feels slightly embarrassed for thinking about it, anything is better than being left alone with replaying the fight with Mike. Every moment with Mike…. Maybe he’ll find out more about Chance tomorrow.