Chapter Text
Will was kneeling on the concrete, right in the middle of the chaos. The crackling of the flames echoed in his ears. The snaps that surrounded him were evidence of the massacre that had happened just seconds ago, a massacre in which people fought to survive and, despite having tried with all their strength, gave their last breath between sharp claws and blows.
It was a one-sided battle; the soldiers never had a chance against him, against Vecna. And as a result, there is now blood everywhere, a crimson liquid that flows infinitely and reflects the same color as the gates that have reopened in the ground. There are so many dead people, so many soldiers who fought for a cause that Will is sure they did not clearly know what it was or what they were really facing. There are so many lives he could have saved if only he had acted sooner.
❝Do you know why I chose them? Why did I choose them to reshape the world? It’s because they’re weak, easy to break, easy to mold, and easy to control. The perfect vessel.❞
Vecta’s words burned in Will’s chest as well as in his mind, and with them, the images of the children’s bodies being dragged across the floor to the other side. And those images hurt Will because their faces, even unconscious, reflected their fear with rigid expressions and cries for help trapped in silence. It’s a deep wound, evidence of the broken promise to protect them.
“Will!”
Suddenly, a firm touch on his shoulder is what brings Will out of his trance and sense of failure. He raised his head slowly, and that was when he saw whose hand was on him belonged to.
“Oh, baby.”
“Mom.”
A mix of feelings overwhelms him which makes Will not even try to avoid collapsing into the safety of his mother’s arms. Then when she holds him, lifting him from his position on the floor. A sense of relief begins to surround him alongside the warmth of his mother and the feel of her, a sign that she is still with him and that it was not another life that Vecta took away tonight.
The hug ended after a few seconds, both moving away only as much as necessary to see each other’s faces. Joyce watched him closely, her gaze wandering over every feature of Will’s face with furrowed brows and restless but relieved eyes.
“Oh, baby. I don’t understand, how did you…?”
<<How?>>
Oh.
It is then when Will understood the reason for the bewilderment in his mother’s eyes and how her face resembled her facial expressions from years ago, with the intention of wanting to lock him in a glass box when she has no explanations about something that worries her. Will wanted to explain, but the words fell short of the mountain of emotions and self-discovery that was inside Will himself.
It’s one thing to discover yourself, to fight the fear of who you really are. And another completely different is to say it out loud, to say it to someone who forms your whole world and who, with a single word, can destroy it.
Will wasn’t ready for that moment yet.
However, the opportunity to even say a word vanished when another voice joined the conversation, quickly and with a trembling tone.
“Because he’s a sorcerer. A real-life sorcerer.”
And then, in a blink, he saw and felt him all around him.
Not in a memory, not in a hallucination or a dream, as used to happen sometimes. It was real.
Mike.
Mike, who had wrapped him in a full hug, a real hug and not one with strained smiles and an air of awkwardness. In this hug, their chests collided, their hands clung to each other, their breaths met, and Mike’s mouth let out small puffs of air against Will’s neck due to his agitation.
Just as with his mom, it’s a relief for Will not only to have physical evidence that Mike is okay, but to be able to confirm it by touching him, feeling him all over.
“Mike”.
“You did it, you actually did it. I knew you could,” Mike said, his joy and pride so palpable in his voice that Will’s heart skipped a beat, and then he broke the hug but kept eye contact. And Will was glad because, although he knew it was greedy of him, he needed that connection.
He needed that connection to face Vecna’s voice that still echoed in his memory; Will didn’t believe he could bear the weight of tonight’s defeat and what they had lost in this battle. More than anything, he couldn’t bear who they had lost and what Vecna would do to them, and what he had planned for them. Then, relief and happiness gave way to despair and anguish.
“The children, Vecna has the children,” Will told them both, because he had seen it and needed to say it out loud, even if it hurt.
“I know, Will, I know. He has Derek, Mary, and Glenn,” Mike confirmed, looking at him with a shared sense of frustration.
Will could only shake his head, because even if what Mike had said was true, the situation was even worse than he and his mom realized. Deep down, Will didn’t want to crush their spirits any more than they already were; however, they needed to understand the full picture of what their failed plan meant.
“No, it’s not just them,” Will corrected, looking back into the jet-black eyes that were still watching him, drawing courage from them for the news he was about to tell them. “He has the others too; they didn’t manage to escape Hawkins.”
Mike and his mother’s expressions changed rapidly, devastated the moment they processed the information about the children. Joyce’s eyes glowed in the light of the fire that still surrounded them, but Will could easily see the tears beginning to well up and the way her lower lip trembled, an obvious effort to hold herself together. On the other hand, Mike’s gaze broke away from Will’s, and his stomach churned, missing that non-physical contact between them.
“Mom, I could have helped them fight if I had acted sooner,” Will said between short breaths, his mother’s image blurred by unshed tears. “But I was too late, and now he has them all; he has all twelve. I failed them, Mom,” he repeated, whispering and choking back tears.
“Oh, my darling, please don’t think that,” Joyce said, shaking her head quickly as she cupped Will’s cheek with a soft, delicate touch that made him unable to resist the urge to lean toward her. “It’s not your fault; you did the best you could at the time,” she consoled him in a voice so sweet, so soft, but above all, so confident and firm. As if it were an unshakable truth.
A truth Will would like to hold on to, even if the voice inside his head whispered the opposite.
Suddenly, breaking the silence amid the sparks of fire, a powerful rhythm accompanied by a buzzing sound cut through the air, and three white lights began to illuminate the area around the Mac-Z, approaching in the distance. Which was, clearly, very bad news for them.
“We need to leave,” Mike said urgently, his gaze shifting between the Byers and the military helicopters in the sky. “Erica must be at the store by now.”
The three of them wasted no time, heading toward the Radio Shack where the entrance to the tunnels was located. It was a little difficult at first when Joyce stumbled due to the pain in her hip, a consequence of the telepathic blast that sent her flying and crashing hard to the ground. However, Will and Mike rushed to her sides, each putting one of Joyce’s arms over their shoulders, and managed to walk quickly to the store before carefully entering.
Just as Mike had said, Erica’s voice was the first thing that greeted them. Low, almost a whisper, but with a tone that made clear her impression of what had happened outside.
“Shit, you really are a sorcerer, huh?” It sounded like a question at the end; however, the slight curve of her lips and the sparkle in her eyes as she looked at Will made her just another member of the club of people amazed by his newfound abilities.
“I know. It was incredible, wasn’t it?” Mike agreed, smiling at Erica and sharing a knowing look. Will wondered if the excitement was due to having someone who thought like him.
Cute.
“Guys, we need to hurry; we don’t know how Lucas and the others are doing,” Joyce interrupted, clearly sensing the potential for a lengthy discussion explaining concepts of science fiction and fantasy.
The moment Lucas’s name left his mother’s lips, the vision of his friend fighting the demogorgon and being wounded in the chest flashed into Will’s mind. A wave of guilt washed over him for even having forgotten about it.
“Lucas is hurt; he tried to defend the kids, and the Demogorgon got him,” he reported fearfully. The vision shared with the monster had not been clear enough to ascertain the severity of the injury.
Erica’s expression changed when she heard the news about Lucas, and every trace of astonishment was replaced by anguish. Will felt a mixture of sympathy and tenderness as he witnessed that, in the end, behind all those sarcastic, witty, and biting remarks, the affection the Sinclair siblings had for each other was mutual.
Shortly afterward, the four of them ventured into the tunnels, guided by Erica in front, Will and Mike behind her, still assisting Joyce along the uneven dirt paths. Erica held the flashlight in her hands, illuminating every corner and scanning with sharp eyes for any sign of Lucas. They had been wandering for a few minutes when a blurry figure caught the light of the flashlight a few steps ahead of them. And Will knew immediately who it was.
He shouted his name at the same time as Mike, worried:
“Lucas!”
Erica ran to catch up with Lucas first, who changed positions to lay down on the ground with his back against the tunnel wall, allowing everyone to get a clearer view of his condition. His basketball team jacket was under his body; his white cotton shirt was dirty, torn at the chest, and, most worrying of all, a crimson stain that was slowly spreading.
“Hello, guys,” Lucas greeted them quietly, almost sounding calm. However, his trembling voice made it clear how much pain he must have been enduring.
“Shit,” Erica cursed the moment she knelt beside Lucas. “You’re an idiot. Why do you always get hurt?”
“It’s just a scratch; stop complaining, Erica,” Lucas gasped between short breaths, feeling around his wound with his right hand.
“I’ll stop doing it when you stop acting like an idiot and learn to take care of yourself.”
“Guys, this isn’t the time for a fight,” Joyce interjected between the brothers, still supported by Will, and she looked with concern as the growing stain spread across Lucas’s chest. She turned to her right. “Mike, get the first-aid kit.”
Mike obeyed in record time, stepping away from Joyce and kneeling in front of Lucas, then taking the backpack off his back and searching for any supplies that might be needed to treat his friend: gauze, adhesive tape, and some bandages.
“All right, could you show us the wound, Lucas?” Joyce asked in a soft, calm voice, not wanting to upset him further.
“Yes, of course,” Lucas agreed and tried with his right hand to lift his shirt as far as he could, but it was difficult. Erica, observant as always, noticed and silently helped him, pulling the hem of his shirt up to his neck.
The wound didn’t look very deep, which was good; however, it promised a long, intense session of pain when it came to treating it. There were two cuts in total, one longer than the other, but both were the same reddish color and were bleeding incessantly.
All of them grimaced at the same time, making clear their distress and empathy for the cuts.
“Holy shit, Lucas,” Erica muttered, her gaze fixed on the injury and her brow furrowed in bitterness, before grabbing some gauze and pressing it roughly against the wound.
Lucas complained about the treatment. A complaint that Erica clearly didn’t care about, and she continued treating him under Joyce’s instructions.
“No, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Will stammered in an attempt to lighten the mood, with a crooked smile, then approached the three of them after settling his mother against one of the tunnel walls.
“Yes, you’ll be fine, and you’ll have some pretty cool scars,” Mike agreed, sharing a glance with Will and a knowing smile.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t protect the kids,” Lucas apologized in a choked voice, feeling guilty and frustrated for having failed in his mission.
Will empathized with him; still, he had witnessed the effort and sacrifice Lucas had made to protect the children. Lucas defended them, determined, jumping into danger without hesitation and standing between the children and the Demogorgon. The cuts that stained his blood were evidence of his bravery and dedication.
“Lucas, you did everything you could. You fought, you risked your life for them,” Will retorted, looking down at him with pride and admiration. “Nice swing, by the way,” he complimented, recalling the vicarious pain the Demogorgon had felt when Lucas struck it with the metal rod.
Lucas looked up, confused by this piece of information that Will knew. However, he quickly remembered Will’s ability to connect with the hive mind.
“You saw?”
Will nodded with a smile.
“Actually, Will did more than just watch,” Mike said, shifting his gaze between Lucas and Will with a smile so big that Will couldn’t help but feel embarrassed.
“Wait, what…? Agh!”
“It wouldn’t hurt if you stopped moving for a second, you airhead,” Erica scolded him with annoyance and nimble hands, putting the finishing touches on the wound with an improvised bandage. “Okay, I’m done.”
“We have to move; we may be safe now, but if the military discovers the bathroom tunnel, we won’t be anymore,” Joyce ordered after giving Erica’s bandage a nod of approval. “Let’s go.”
Will, Mike, Erica, and Lucas agreed with Joyce: there was a good chance that the soldiers would find the entrance to the tunnel, and they couldn’t risk the possibility that they wouldn’t go in there to investigate.
After the silent agreement that Erica would help Lucas walk and Mike would return to Joyce’s side, once again acting as her support, everyone continued in silence toward the Squawk. Lucas and Erica led the way with a steady pace, while Will and Mike, with Joyce behind them, occasionally glanced over their shoulders to make sure no one was following them.
Lucas managed to hold back his curiosity for five minutes, until he couldn’t take it anymore and asked Mike:
“So, what did you mean when you said Will did more than just watch me get my ass kicked?”
-.-.-
Thanks to their steady pace, the way to the tunnels was close; they were only a few feet away. During that time, Mike took charge of telling Lucas everything that happened at Mac-Z, from the moment the soldiers caught them to Vecna showing up and how he thought he would be the victim of a Demogorgon, only to be saved by Will at the end. Everything was accompanied by an euphoric tone and dramatic details.
“Let me get this straight,” Lucas said, stumbling slightly toward Erica from the effort.
“Yeah”
“So, Demos floating, limbs snapping, dying, that was all Will?
“Well… Yes,” Will stammered in confirmation from behind, feeling nervous about having the attention back on him.
“That was you?”
Erica let out a tired sigh and rolled her eyes before shaking Lucas, exasperated by her brother’s slowness:
“For God’s sake, do we have to explain it to you with drawings and a song so your little brain can understand? Your friend has powers, yes.”
Lucas ignored her, prioritizing the excitement over Erica’s attitude and the sudden movements of his body. Because for Lucas, the awakening of Will’s powers was not only something to marvel at, but also something to be grateful for, because it meant a turn of the tables in their favor. It meant hope.
“You know what this means to us, right?” Lucas smiled, giving Will a fleeting glance. “You’re like a real-life wizard.”
“Well… "
“He’s more of a sorcerer than a wizard,” Mike interrupted suddenly, his tone so harsh that Will and Joyce jumped in surprise.
Lucas furrowed his brow, puzzled by his friend’s seriousness. The moment he cut off the conversation and used that offended tone, Lucas would have thought he had broken his friend’s D&D board, rather than getting a fantasy label wrong.
“Yeah, sure. But you get what I mean, right? This changes everything; it’s like having a second El!”
Wil decided to interrupt, feeling uncertain about the idealized image that was forming in Lucas’s mind. He felt the need to correct.
“Except that I’m not like El. I don’t have powers of my own; I just channel Vecna’s. And to do that, I have to be close to the hive mind. And Vecna won’t come back.”
“But his Demos will, right?” Erica asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t think so. He already has all the children; he already has his vessels,” said Will, losing himself in the rocky, uneven ground.
Everyone stopped, blinking slowly at him with anxious looks.
“Wait, «vessels»?” Mike asked, the first to dare to break the tension.
Will nodded distractedly, recalling Vecna’s guttural words and searching for their true meaning. He knew that this was Vecna’s plan; the kids were an important part of it. But what exactly did he want to do with them?
Will let out a shaky sigh before answering:
“That’s what he called them. He said, ‘vessels for reshaping the world’.”
Lucas and Mike looked at each other with cautious, uneasy expressions, silently discussing something that Will clearly noticed they only knew between themselves.
“Lucas, I’ve never wanted one of your theories to be wrong so badly,” Mike was the first to speak.
“What theory?” Joyce asked, watching the two of them.
Lucas fell silent for a moment, his shoulders tense and his expression desolate. That posture and sudden silence set off alarms in the others’ minds, as they recognized the classic signs of bad news.
“November sixth.” That’s what Lucas said, raising his head to look at everyone. “The day it all began is the day it all ends.”
The five shared a glance, fearful of the logic behind Lucas’ theory. Because, as much as they wanted to deny it, the fact that the recent activity with the Upside Down and Vecna’s appearance alongside his plans were so close to the anniversary of the day that changed everyone’s lives did not feel like a coincidence.
They had all been through too much, too many situations in their lives that opened up a new perspective where they could not afford to think in terms of mere coincidences.
And that was what they were really afraid of deep down. Because that perspective made the possibility of running out of time before the world literally ended seem more real.
“Well, your theory is shit.” Erica’s expression was somewhere between a worried and bitter grimace.
No one dared say anything else, unable to find the words. The group fell silent, each one a victim of their own fear at the thought of what might happen in the future.
The last stretch to the exit was torture, alternating between the longest minutes of their lives and the shortest minutes at the same time. When they finally reached the bottom of the stairs, Erica moved away from Lucas to go ahead and open the wooden cover, clearing the way for Mike, who climbed up to help Lucas from above.
“Okay, Lucas, take it easy,” Mike murmured softly, pulling his friend’s forearm with extreme care. “I’ve got you.”
When Lucas climbed the last step, Will prepared to be next. However, just as he grabbed the side of the ladder, he felt his mother’s hand stop him.
“Honey, please stay here for a moment.”
“What’s going on, Mom?” Will climbed down from his position, facing his mom.
“It’s nothing bad,” Joyce hastened to clarify, “it’s just that I was wondering if there’s any way to access the hive mind again.”
“Mom, I can’t do that unless… "
“Unless the hive mind is close, I know,” Joyce acknowledged, her mouth twisted downward in a discontented expression. However, a glint of determination flashed in her eyes before she continued. “But we still don’t know exactly how your powers work, and no one thought what happened tonight was even possible.”
Will looked at her, uncertain about the direction his mother’s idea was taking.
“What I’m trying to say is: what if this time you don’t use your powers against his army, but use them against him, against Vecna?” she proposed directly, her gaze fixed on Will.
And, well.
Okay: yes.
To Will, despite the confusion caused by his mother’s sudden idea, it seemed to make a certain amount of sense. Technically, his power was linked to Vecna, which had allowed him from the start to recognize Derek as the next victim. Because he saw through him.
However, as good as it sounded, it seemed too good to be true. They were all playing on a chessboard where every move had to be calculated. Using that connection against the King was something entirely different from making a move against a pawn. It required strength, energy, and power.
“I don’t know, Mom; I’m not like El. I’m not that strong, these abilities don’t even belong to me.”
“Will…”
“Mom, I don’t think I can,” Will said, trailing off, hesitant. “I couldn’t even help the kids tonight. What if I try and it goes wrong? What if somehow you guys end up getting hurt because I wasn’t strong enough?” he asked, terrified. That scenario was the worst Will could imagine.
Losing the ones he loves. Failing someone else.
Will wasn’t sure he could endure it.
Suddenly, Joyce lunged toward Will as best she could and held him in her arms, hanging slightly suspended due to the difference in their heights. The slight trembling in her legs signaled to Will the effort she was making, and he hunched over, worried for his mother, though she didn’t seem to care.
“Honey, I need you to listen to me,” Joyce’s voice sounded soft, like a plea. However, Will recognized the command hidden behind her words.
He nodded.
“I know what your mind is telling you, how you must feel after what happened with the kids and the fear you have because, in your head, you failed.” Joyce stroked Will’s back with her hand and offered a faint smile, even if her son couldn’t see it. “But let me tell you something: tonight, what you did was extraordinary; you found your courage, and you saved lives. You saved Lucas, you saved Mike, and you saved me, because I was next.”
Will closed his eyes, devastated by the mere acknowledgment that it could have been possible. That his mother could have become just another lifeless body at the Mac-Z.
“Vecna underestimated you; we all underestimated you. I did too; I know it, and I am so sorry, honey.”
Struggling against the strength in Will’s arms, Joyce managed to break the embrace to put enough distance between them to look at each other.
“I kept you in a bubble for so long because I thought that was how I was protecting you, when all I did was push you away and make you feel insecure. So much so that, in the end, you underestimated yourself, too.”
Will’s breath hitched, and he blinked in an attempt to hold back the oncoming tears. It was an effort that ultimately failed when his mother’s hands sought his cheeks, cradling his face with tenderness. Joyce kept talking, focused on her son, sharing the same tearful gaze.
“That is a mistake you must never make again; none of us will,” she promised firmly, and the best part was that Will believed her without a doubt. “But I am certain that Vecna will make it. And when he does, it will be the last damn mistake that son of a bitch ever makes.”
Will smiled through his hiccups, amused and impressed by the ferocity in his mother’s words. Soon, the moment became a bubble of comfort.
Or at least it was, until a scream reached them from above.
“Holy shit! Lucas?!”
“Is that a claw mark or a bite? Because if it’s a bite, kid, congratulations: you are officially patient zero for Upside Down rabies.”
Robin and Murray’s voices tore through the air, interrupting the moment and forcing Will and Joyce to head up immediately. When they reached the top, they stumbled upon a harrowing scene: Robin and Murray stood frozen, watching the severity of Lucas’s wounds with horror.
“Well, that amount of blood is not encouraging at all,” Murray exclaimed, gesturing frantically as he pointed at Lucas. “Tell me it’s not a bite, because if that thing had interdimensional rabies, we are all doomed.”
Erica lashed out at Murray immediately with sharp, protective words, engaging in an argument that everyone else ignored, accustomed to their verbal sparring. On the other hand, seeing them arrive, Robin broke the circle and ran toward Will, wrapping him in a hug so tight it nearly took his breath away.
“Thank God you’re okay!” she blabbered, speaking at a supernatural speed. “We were right there, ready with the kids in the truck, and then a Demogorgon showed up and chased us the whole way until out of nowhere it just stopped, so I thought we were going to make it but…”
“Robin, stop. Breathe,” Will interrupted her. His voice was strained from the air he lost with every second Robin squeezed him. “I know what happened.”
Robin went quiet, breaking the contact so they could look at each other. The confusion was palpable; however, it was Joyce who took charge of the situation, placing a firm hand on Robin’s shoulder when she sensed her yapping was about to start again.
“We’re sitting ducks out here,” Joyce declared, glancing into the darkness of the forest. “Into the radio station, right now. Murray, help Erica with Lucas. We need light to clean those wounds properly, and while we’re at it, we’ll explain what happened out there.”
The group rushed inside the radio station, seeking refuge behind the heavy doors. Once inside, they helped Lucas lie down on the worn-out sofa, which groaned under his weight. Tension hung in the air as thick as the static from the radios surrounding them.
“Erica, find the first-aid kit, please,” Joyce ordered in a tone that brooked no argument. “We have to clean that wound before it gets worse.”
While the youngest Sinclair hurried away between the shelves, Murray crossed his arms, watching the group with his usual paranoid skepticism.
“Alright, we’re safe from the open air and prying eyes,” Murray blurted out, casting an inquisitive look at the kids. “Is anyone going to deign to speak, or are we going to keep pretending that what happened outside was just a simple misunderstanding? I need details, and I need them before my ulcer decides to explode.”
Silence reigned once more for a second, until Mike stepped forward. His face, previously filled with doubt, now reflected absolute determination.
“It was Will,” Mike said, his voice firm and clear. “He’s the one who saved us tonight. Without him, we wouldn’t be here. And thanks to what he did, we finally have something we didn’t have before: a real advantage against Vecna.”
Will, who had stayed in the shadows, hunched over himself, looked up in surprise. His face was pale, and his fingers toyed nervously with the hem of his sweater, embarrassed.
“Wait, what?” Robin asked, feeling lost even though the explanation wasn’t that complex.
At that moment, Erica appeared from the shadows of the shelves carrying the metal medical kit. Without a word, though her jaw was clenched with tension, she handed it to Joyce. Joyce immediately knelt in front of Lucas; with expert but trembling hands, she began to clean the blood soaking his clothes.
“Everything happened so fast,” Joyce began, her voice faltering as the smell of antiseptic filled the air. “The Demogorgons came out of nowhere… It was an ambush. They took the kids before anyone could react.”
She paused to apply pressure to Lucas’s wound, and he let out a stifled groan. Joyce took a breath and continued, her gaze lost in the horror of her memories:
“Then he appeared. Vecna. The soldiers didn’t stand a chance; he wiped them out like they were nothing. But just when it seemed like all was lost, when he set those beasts on us to finish us off, something changed.”
Joyce looked up at Will, a mix of pride and fear in her eyes.
“Will didn’t just see through them. I don’t know how to explain it, but he managed to… bend them. He took control of those creatures and destroyed them.”
A heavy silence fell over the radio station, broken only by the hiss of static from the equipment. Of course, it was a lot to process; Will had spent years as a sort of Upside Down detector; the only thing he could do was sense when something related to the Mind Flayer—and later, the Demogorgons—was nearby.
But now he could control them and destroy them?
Yes.
Will didn’t blame them for the disbelief on their faces.
Joyce finished tightening the bandage over Lucas’s chest with a firm knot. After giving him one last warning look, she assured him he would be fine, as long as he wasn’t reckless enough to exert any unnecessary effort. She packed the supplies back into the kit with precise movements, and as she stood up, the air became thick with expectation.
“Listen,” Joyce declared, looking at everyone present. “If Will could control them, we could use that. Once he’s close, Will connects again. Only this time, he doesn’t go after a Demogorgon; he goes after Vecna. He attacks him, wipes him out, finishes off his army, and this nightmare ends. That’s it. Suggestions?”
The silence that followed was deathly. Everyone looked at Will as if he were a stranger who had just landed from another planet. The idea that the shy Byers boy was now their deadliest weapon was hard to swallow.
“Yeah, I think it’s a fantastic plan, right?” Robin blurted out, a nervous smile on her face that didn’t quite fit.
“Yeah, no. Yes, it’s a fantastic plan,” Murray stammered, rubbing his temple as he tried to reconcile his logic with reality. “It’s just that I’m still processing the fact that, you know…”
Robin, holding the ice to the cut on her forehead and unable to contain her curiosity or the relief of being alive, turned toward Will.
“Will, did you kill a Demo with your mind?”
“Well…” Will began, shrugging, searching for the right words to explain the unexplainable.
“Three of them, actually,” Mike cut in immediately, a spark of pride in his eyes.
“At the same time, in three different places,” Lucas added from the sofa, confirming the feat with absolute seriousness.
Murray stood frozen for a second. He let his shoulders drop and looked at Will with genuine, almost bewildered respect.
“Kid, you’ve shut me up.”
“You’re a real Wizard, huh?” Robin exclaimed, showering him with compliments while Will hung his head, feeling the heat of embarrassment rush to his cheeks.
“Sorcerer, actually,” Erica corrected matter-of-factly, crossing her arms. “His powers are…”
“Innate, exactly. Thank you!” Mike finished, pointing at Erica as if someone were finally talking sense.
Lucas, seeing the urgency of his wound and the war awaiting them, sighed in desperation.
“Does that even matter right now?”
“It matters!” Mike and Erica exclaimed in unison, fervently defending the technical classification of their friend’s powers while the tension of the war gave way, if only for a brief moment, to the spirit of the game that had united them from the start.
Joyce stepped between the kids before the technical debate over Will’s powers could spiral out of control.
“Can we focus, please?” Joyce asked, raising her voice enough to silence the murmurs. “We need to recap everything that has happened so we can organize ourselves and make a real plan.”
Lucas nodded, though the pain from his wound made it hard to keep focus.
“Well, we still need to make contact with El and the others in the Upside Down,” he added, his gaze fixed on the shadows dancing on the wall.
“Exactly,” Mike agreed, crossing his arms. “We don’t know what’s going on over there or if they’ve discovered something about Vecna that could help. They might have the missing piece.”
Joyce remained silent for a second, weighing the options. Her mind raced with worry for those still missing, especially Jonathan.
“Another device could be built, right?” Joyce suggested hopefully. “That telemetric thing we used.”
“But Dustin is the one who built that tracker. We don’t know how it works,” Mike said, shaking his head in frustration.
“I learned a few things when I helped Dustin with the truck last summer,” Will cut in, stepping forward. His voice sounded more confident now. “We could try to replicate it together. But that would take us…”
“Hours, or even days,” Erica interrupted, relentless as ever, pointing at the clock on the wall with a sharp gesture. “Days we don’t have, Byers. The world is breaking out there right now.”
“We could strap Will to the roof of the van with duct tape,” Robin suddenly suggested in a playful tone. “If we connect a couple of copper wires from the battery to his feet, maybe he’ll work like a giant human antenna to contact the others.”
“What?” Will groaned.
“Hey, they said no idea is a bad idea!” Robin defended herself, waving her free hand in the air. “I’m just exploring the path of creative engineering in the face of the apocalypse.”
“I second the girl’s motion,” Murray added from the back. “If the kid dies, at least we’ll have improved the reception for Channel Six.”
“Please, focus!” Joyce interrupted, rubbing her temples in exasperation. “Does anyone have an idea that doesn’t involve electrocuting my son? Any real suggestions?”
Silence reigned over the station once more, broken only by the hum of static from the radios. Eternal seconds passed until Murray, with dramatic slowness, raised his hand. Joyce looked at him with deep mistrust, but after a sigh of resignation, she gave him the floor.
“I have an excellent idea,” he declared, standing up with a solemn air. “One that will change the course of this operation. Who’s hungry?”
Joyce stood frozen, looking at him with a mix of fury and disbelief.
“Murray, it is literally the end of the world,” Joyce hissed through gritted teeth.
“And that is exactly why we need to eat,” Murray replied with surgical calmness, as he headed toward the back. “The mind is a machine, Joyce, and machines don’t run without fuel. You’re not going to save the world on a sugar crash; the mind works better with nutrients.”
Joyce opened her mouth to protest, but her own stomach betrayed her with an ill-timed growl. She looked at the kids, pale and exhausted, and finally slumped her shoulders in defeat.
“Fine,” she yielded. “Let’s eat something. Fast.”
The group crowded into the station’s small kitchen. Within seconds, the counters were filled with an improvised feast: boxes of stale cookies, sliced bread, bags of popcorn, juice boxes, and potato chips. It was a strange dinner for the end of times, but as the crinkle of bags filled the room, the tension seemed to give way, if only for an instant.
Will took a couple of chocolate chip cookies, but hunger was the last thing on his mind. His fingers brushed the cardboard of the box while his mind went back again and again to his mother’s words. Was he really capable of facing Vecna? The idea of being a weapon, a sorcerer, or whatever Mike and Erica said, weighed on his shoulders like a suit of lead armor.
Suddenly, the atmosphere in the kitchen became unbearable. The fluorescent lights of the radio station seemed to hum with a piercing intensity, and the laughter and voices of the others turned into a metallic din that drilled into his temples. It was that familiar overstimulation, the sign that his mind was at its limit. Without a word, he looked for an exit and slipped away toward the basement, longing for darkness and isolation.
As he went down, the cool, stagnant air of the basement offered him a reprieve. He walked through the shadows until he found one of the many record players in the room. His fingers acted on instinct, dropping the needle onto the vinyl and adjusting the volume to the minimum, just enough for John Waite’s voice to fill the void without hurting him.
He sank into a corner of the sofa, facing the dark projector. He pulled his legs up and tucked his chin between his knees, hugging himself as if trying to keep all his pieces together. In that corner, his mind finally allowed itself to wander. He thought of Jonathan, and a sigh escaped his lips. He wished his brother were there, not just to feel safe, but because Jonathan always knew what to do with difficult truths.
Will could no longer keep denying it: he was finally accepting who he was and the nature of that feeling that burned in his chest every time Mike looked at him. But that acceptance brought with it a new, paralyzing fear.
What now? He wondered.
He knew who he loved; he already knew that this love was a part of him, but the next step terrified him.
He couldn’t help but think that Jonathan could help him navigate that labyrinth; that Jonathan would tell him how to survive the fear of being different in a world that was already terrifying enough on its own. He needed his brother to confirm that he wasn’t broken, that loving Mike didn’t make him an anomaly, but someone with something to fight for.
That thought, Mike’s name echoing in his mind with overwhelming clarity, was abruptly interrupted. A sharp creak on the stairs made Will jump, his heart leaping in his chest. He looked up quickly, and his eyes met Mike’s, who was finishing his clumsy descent down the steps, shattering Will’s bubble of solitude.
“Sorry, did I scare you?” Mike’s voice sounded soft, almost timid, breaking through the basement’s gloom.
“What? No… no, I was just thinking,” Will replied, clearing his throat and trying to hide the trace of his previous thoughts.
“Sorry. I noticed you disappeared and… Well, I wanted to talk to you about something. I looked for you, but when I saw you, you looked so focused I didn’t want to distract you, so I…” Mike scratched the back of his neck.
“For God’s sake, Mike, it’s fine, don’t worry,” Will interrupted him with a small exhale.
A thick silence fell. Mike remained standing by the sofa, balancing on his heels as if he needed invisible permission to exist in that space. Will watched him for a second and felt that sting of tenderness that always disarmed him.
“You know you can sit down, right?” he asked teasingly.
“Oh, right. Yeah.”
Mike slumped onto the cushion beside him. Will gave him a faint smile, one that barely touched his lips but lit up his tired eyes.
“So… What did you want to talk to me about?”
“Huh?”
“You said you were looking for me because you wanted to talk, right?” Will insisted, amused by his friend’s confusion.
“Oh, yeah. That. I guess I just wanted to ask how you’re doing after everything that’s happened. I know it can be…”
“Too much?” Will finished for him.
“Yeah. Too much.”
Will looked down at his hands, losing himself in a trance. The shadows of the old lightbulb played on his fingers as he tried to organize the chaos in his mind.
“Thanks for, you know, literally saving my life out there,” Mike blurted out suddenly, with an urgency that made Will tense up. “I didn’t thank you properly, and I wanted to tell you how incredible what you did was.”
Will felt the heat rise up his neck. The admiration in Mike’s voice was almost more overwhelming than the Demogorgon’s attack.
“You don’t have to thank me. I would always save you, Mike. I’d save all of you without a second thought.”
“Like a total sorcerer, huh?” Mike joked, managing to make them both let out a small laugh that eased the pressure in Will’s chest.
However, the laughter died quickly. Mike turned serious, his shoulders tensing, and he avoided Will’s gaze for a moment.
“I heard the conversation you had with your mom.”
Will turned toward him so fast he felt a slight wave of dizziness. Cold panic returned for a second.
“It wasn’t on purpose,” Mike hurried to say. “It’s just that, after helping Lucas, I was waiting for you guys. You were taking a long time, and I wanted to go see if you were okay. When I got closer, I heard your voices and… Yeah.”
Will curled into himself, hugging his knees even tighter and nervously rubbing the back of his neck. The distance that had widened between them in Lenora seemed to have gradually vanished, evaporated by the forced closeness at the Wheeler house and their shared battles. But they weren’t quite there yet. They still hadn’t opened the door to that pizza van where the truths had been left half-told.
“I think you should feel proud, you know?” Mike broke the silence.
“What?”
“I mean, I definitely am.” Mike waited a heartbeat before forcing himself to look him in the eye. “Proud of you, I mean.”
“Mike…”
“Just… Just let me say it, please?” Mike pleaded in a thin voice. “Because if I don’t get it out now, I feel like I’m going to explode.”
Mike took a deep breath, and his shoulders tensed, as if he were preparing for a mission instead of talking to Will.
“I’ve always believed there’s something about you, something… Special,” he finally confessed.
Will let out a bitter laugh, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.
“You’re saying that because we’re friends, Mike.”
“Best friends,” Mike corrected firmly. “But I’m not saying it because of that. I think I knew it from the very first moment, back in kindergarten. I was terrified because I didn’t know anyone, but when I saw you on the swings… I don’t know. I felt better. I felt calm. I just remember thinking: ‘I really want to be his friend.’”
Mike swallowed hard, his eyes now fixed on Will’s, shining with an honesty that hurt.
“Will, you’ve gone through things that would destroy anyone. Kidnappings, possessions… You survived alone in the Upside Down at twelve years old, when trained soldiers don’t last five minutes. Looking at it now, I know it changed you, but you’re still you. The kindest, most empathetic, and strongest person I know.”
Will felt tears welling up behind his eyelids. He was in a trance, absorbing every word as if it were the oxygen he had been missing for years.
“So yeah,” Mike concluded, lowering his voice. “I always thought that if anyone could kick Vecna’s ass, it was you. I trust you, Will. I trust that you can do it.”
Will looked at him and, in that instant, remembered exactly why he had fallen in love with Mike Wheeler. It wasn’t just his bravery or his leadership; it was Mike’s ability to melt all of his insecurities with a single gesture or a clumsy sentence. Mike had the power to make him feel seen—not as a monster or a victim, but simply as Will.
He tried to say something, but his throat was a knot of conflicting emotions. He blinked hard, inhaling the stale basement air so he wouldn’t break down in front of him.
“God, Mike… Did being close to death turn you into a sentimental philosopher?” Will teased through choked laughter, covering his face with one hand to hide his vulnerability.
Mike shared the smile, nudging him lightly with his shoulder. “Hey, for your information, I’ve always been a sensitive and reflective man.”
“Crap, who lied to you like that?”
“Hey!”
Mike gave him a playful punch on the arm, and Will returned it, starting a small shoving match that ended in genuine laughter. In that moment, Will felt like the world was returning to its right size. The lights didn’t bother him anymore, and the noise of the outside world felt far away. John Waite’s voice in the background finally made sense.
Will realized that John was right: a smile and the right words from the right person could make anyone feel capable of facing the whole world. And as long as Mike was there, Will knew he could defeat any monster, even the ones living inside him.
The laughter faded away, leaving a different kind of silence than before; one charged with a new electricity, almost expectant. Mike didn’t pull away. He stayed there, close enough for Will to feel the heat radiating from his shoulder. Mike opened his mouth, his eyes searching Will’s face with an intensity that seemed to be looking for the right words for something much bigger.
“Guys! Sorry to interrupt the seance or whatever you’re doing down here!”
Robin’s shout echoed off the concrete walls like a cannon blast. Mike jumped violently, pulling away from Will so fast he almost lost his balance on the sofa. His reaction was instinctive, almost defensive.
Will froze in place, his heart taking a painful leap. He looked at Mike, expecting a laugh or a casual comment, but he was met with the back of his friend’s head. Mike was desperately avoiding any eye contact.
“Hey!” Robin continued, hurrying down the last few steps. “We were looking for you. Lucas and Erica just had a genius-level epiphany, and Joyce says we all have to be there for the big plan. So let’s go.”
“Yeah, sure,” Mike exclaimed, his voice an octave higher than normal. “Right, let’s go. We don’t want to… We don’t want to hold anything up.”
Without looking back, without offering a single word or gesture to Will, Mike brushed past Robin and almost jogged up the stairs, disappearing into the upper floor in a matter of seconds.
Will sat in the corner of the sofa, feeling the basement’s chill return all at once. A sting of a deep wound pierced his chest. For a moment, for a fleeting second, he had hoped that this closeness meant the same thing to both of them. But Mike’s reaction, that sudden fear, that flight, felt like a door slammed in his face.
“Will?” Robin stopped halfway up the stairs, tilting her head. “Are you okay…?”
Will blinked, forcing himself out of his trance. He stood up and forced a neutral expression, though his face felt rigid.
He walked up the stairs with a firm step, leaving behind John Waite’s music, which kept playing for no one. As he climbed, Will clenched his fists and made a silent decision. Now was not the time to get stuck in the labyrinth of his own feelings, nor to analyze every one of Mike’s evasive gestures. The world was falling to pieces, and he had a role to play. The questions about who he was and what Mike felt would have to wait; right now, the only thing that mattered was surviving the nightmare that was to come.