Chapter Text
“Hey Mike, sorry I need-” Will burst through Mike’s bedroom door, cutting himself off.
It was there, his painting, it was on the wall. Will had not felt like this in a while; it was these deep-seated feelings of betrayal inside his guts. The absolute heartbreak that he had gone through hundreds of times already. He thought that he had let go of Mike. He felt that since THAT day, he was over it. Apparently not.
Will had stopped, standing there unmoving. He could not move, act, or speak. His deep feelings of sadness soon dissipated into something else, ANGER. How could he? How could he hang that there? Mike KNEW he had to, before that battle, they had talked. Bestfriend, the other had said, what a bunch of bullshit. If he had any respect, he would have never hung that there.
What did he think, really? That Will would just accept it? Just like that? So easily?
A few seconds passed, and Will just stood there, unmoving. His breath was rapid, his eyes looking frantic. Every little emotion felt like a storm, an avalanche. However, this time, the avalanche was there to destroy. The boy did not even notice Mike calling him and turned around in his chair, looking at him. His vision blurred everything but the painting.
“Wi- Wil-”
He could only hear faint noises of a voice calling out to him, but the tunnel vision was too strong.
Once again, Will did not notice the other boy in the room, he did not notice him getting up from his chair, walking towards him, until a hand touched his shoulder. It made him jump and turn his head towards Mike. Finally acknowledging his existence.
“Will, are you okay ?”
Oh, OH, how many times has he heard this in the past few years? His anger was fueled. Does Mike really care, or is he pretending to? Will’s face must have followed his thoughts because the other boy took a step back, face morphing into confusion.
“I don’t understand, Will, what’s going on?” Mike asks tentatively.
Will did not answer, just ripped Mike’s hand off his body; the touch was burning him, destroying his will little by little. He could see that the other boy was taken aback, but he could not care less at this moment, everything was dark.
The anger took over him, and finally, he moved, making a beeline towards the desk, but specifically the painting. This awful and tragic painting. Two steps forward, and he was in front of it, facing all of his old feelings, everything he had hidden deep inside. Everything resurfacing, every lie, every amount of suffering. Everything.
His eyes stung, he always cried when he was angry, screw him for showing this much vulnerability to someone who did not deserve it. At this moment, memories were flooding his brain. From when he was thirteen and he saw Jane and Mike for the first time, this jealousy had eaten him alive. From when he was fourteen, and the rain was pouring down, it was not Mike’s fault that he did not like girls. From when he was fifteen, and the sacrifice that came with it. Then, when he was sixteen, and he had to say it, he had to tell everyone that he had never liked girls, and he told Mike that he was in love with him out of fear. He was sixteen when he pretended to be over it to not scare him away, and he was sixteen when Mike had said best friend.
Will’s body moved on its own, ripping the painting off the wall. He will not stop, not anymore. Painting in his hands, Will did not even look at it; he just left. The boy did not run, did not speed walk; he just left. No matter what, he was not listening and did not care where Mike was.
He had one goal: destroying this painting.
Will could not see any rationality; he was over this, over hurting, over crying, over being shamed and humiliated by ignorance. Will fought once, but he won’t fight anymore.
He walked, and walked. It felt like hours, but it was only a few seconds. He went downstairs, into the Wheelers’ kitchen. Surely Mrs. Wheeler would have something lying somewhere. He opened every drawer possible, ignoring Mike’s parents and Mike. They had never seen him in this state, he was pushed into this mindspace because of Mike, after all.
Once Will found what he was looking for, he left, left the house to go into the woods. Multiple times, Mike tried to stop Will, grasping his hands, his arms, but Will would always shake him off. Nothing would stop him now.
He stopped when he finally reached the quarry. Mike stepped up once again, but Will pushed him out of the way, making the boy stumble. Mike seemed to understand not to approach Will anymore.
Will lit up the lighter, closing the space between the fire and the corner of the painting, and then in a few seconds, the painting was disappearing. A red hue was painted on Will’s face, and the canvas was getting burned like Will had been scorched by Mike. He observed it for a few seconds before letting it go, the piece of canvas burning on the ground in front of a looking emotionless Will.
Inside him, the anger was ignited like the burning piece in front of him. The anger felt like when he was thirteen and had to be burned alive. His body felt too hot, too stiff; it felt like it was not his anymore. He had let the anger take control. Will did not regret it.
Will stood there watching the burn, did not move a single finger, did not blink; he wanted to see each piece of this painting disintegrate. Mike did not seem to move either, probably too shocked and confused about what was happening to do anything anymore. Like always, he was never able to do anything but hurt.
Minutes flew by, and nothing was left.
Will turned around and saw that they were no longer alone, he had forgotten that Lucas, Max, and Dustin were all there at the Wheelers. They were looking at him, confused, shocked, and puzzled. He couldn’t take it, they looked at him like he had gone crazy. They were probably concerned, but for now, he could not take anything.
“Will, what’s going on?” Lucas stepped up.
“Life is bullshit.” That's all he said before leaving all of them behind in confusion.
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Mike was confused; he could not understand what had just happened and why Will was so mad. The last time he ever saw Will close to this was three years ago. Will just burned the painting that he had made, the painting that El had commissioned.
“What did you do, man?” Lucas asked, crossing his arms.
“Messed up like always, only he can make Will THIS angry.” Max snarkily responded.
Dustin snorted, and Mike was just getting angry he could not understand anything about what was actually happening right now. He was sad, grieving, and now the painting had disappeared. His feelings were a mess; he was as concerned for Will as he was pissed.
“I didn’t do anything, alright! He came into my room and then completely blew up when he saw the painting.” Mike’s tone was annoyed. He turned out to be confused as he saw his friends' faces. Lucas had a stunned expression, Dustin had his face in his hand, and Max looked three seconds away from jumping him.
“What now?”
“You mean THE painting, with the three-headed dragon, the party, BUT SPECIFICALLY YOU WITH A SHIELD THAT HAS A HEART ON IT?” Dustin asked, clearly waiting for a mess-up.
“Yes.” His brain felt like it was fried.
“You’re playing with us right now…” Max chuckled desperately.
“Guys, stop being so cryptic, okay? What’s going on, and how do you know about El’s painting?”
“What are you talking about, Mike, El’s painting? You mean Will’s painting?” Lucas was starting to move around, walking in circles, clearly, the three of them knew something he did not.
“I mean, Will painted it, but El asked him to.”
“How can he be so stupid, guys…”
“MAX!” Lucas and Dustin screamed.
“WHAT IT IS TRUE LOOK AT HIM.” Max took a few steps forward to stand in front of him. “Mike dumb ass, El did not ask him too, it’s HIS painting, HE MADE IT FOR YOU, El was never involved in this.”
“What NO, He said-” No Will, could not lie… Well, he did, for his feelings a few years ago, but he said he was over it, and it was a crush…
“He told us what had happened in the van afterwards, because he thought you KNEW THAT HE HAD MADE THE PAINTING AND THAT HE WAS TALKING ABOUT HIMSELF, MIKE,” Max screamed.
Mike’s friends were all frantic; they kept talking, but none of them had anticipated something like this happening. They were talking about finding Will and making sure he was okay? Mike was just so clueless; he did not understand anything about what was happening. Everything was such a mess, and he felt like he had to hide again.
So that’s what he did, he left them all there, standing, arguing. He went back to his room, locked the door, and the only thing he could do was stare at the space that had once one of the best gifts he had ever received in his life.