Chapter Text
Hawkins, Indiana.
1999.
If there's one thing Mike Wheeler has learned working in sales, its that he'll never get to go home early. Well, he's honestly learned more than one thing. He's learned his boss doesn't give a shit about him, his coworkers will never respect him, he wasn't built for sales, and he'll never get to go home early. But, as he sits at his desk at 7:53 on a Friday night going over paperwork that isn't even his responsibility, not going home early is especially on his mind.
Generally, on Fridays Mike doesn't even get home in time for Seinfeld reruns. Mike isn't sure if his coworkers pile extra paperwork on him because they hate him, or because they're aware he'll be watching Seinfeld reruns on a Friday night. Could be either honestly, his general presence doesn't inspire much confidence on him having anything else going on outside of work.
In a way, he kind of appreciates the quiet building after everyone else has gone home. It gives him space to think, he has the entire break room to himself, and theres no line for the printer. In almost every other way, he hates being stuck in a quiet work building. It gives him space to think, much more than his apartment does. In his apartment he can keep the TV blaring, dishes piles high, bed unmade, and memorabilia hes collected over the years. Anything to distract him from the loneliness.
But here in the office, space is different. Everything is organized, everything is corporate. It all gives his brain plenty of space to think. Usually on these long nights, his mind will first drift to the party. Thats where it always seems to drift. It seems like the more mundane life gets, the louder the memories are.
He thinks about the adventures they had together what feels like lifetimes ago. Sometimes, when he thinks of himself in his memories, it doesn't even feel like him. He sees these memories of a mighty paladin, sworn by oath, protecting the ones he loves. Doesn't feel very much like Mike anymore. He sees Dustin and Lucas fighting with him, always ready for battle. He sees Max and El, maybe less inclined to listen to him particularly, but probably ready with smarter solutions.
And he sees Will. In these memories he always sees Will the clearest. Like the sun shining through his cloudy mind. Even now, when he thinks of Will he can't help but smile to himself. He can feel the way Will smiled at him. Every adventure they went on somehow felt like it wasn't just with Will, it was for Will. The way Will wasn't just in every campaign, but inbetween them too. Will bleeds into every single memory. It's impossible to think of anything without eventually thinking of Will.
Then, inevitably, his mind drifts until he reaches the end. After graduating, the party disbanded in 1989 as everyone went their separate ways. After that, every single one of them left Hawkins except for Mike. With no real interest in any out of state colleges and no idea what he wanted to do with his life, Mike settled for an internship at a local sales company. After starting, he had just never quit. And now here he is, sitting at his desk at now 8:13 on a Friday night, wondering what a Friday night looks like for Will.
He can only imagine it must be great for him out there. He probably works as an illustrator, with loving friends and a partner. He probably spends his Friday nights at bars, meeting new people and connecting with old friends. He probably is surrounded by the love he always emanated as a kid. He probably doesn't think of Mike.
Still, Mike can't help but hope he does, because sometimes it feels like all Mike thinks about is Will. He knew he'd miss him forever the second he said goodbye. He watched Will get in his car, all loaded up to go to art school in New York, and he thought "I wish you would stay. I wish I was going with you. I wish I was brave enough to follow you. I wish I wasn't scared. I wish you could be brave for the both of us." But all he said was bye.
What he didn't know is how quickly Will Byers would give up on him completely. After moving, the calls were infrequent from the very beginning. Will moved in July and called twice in August, once in September, and after that never again. Mike was devastated by this, but too scared to ask him why. So he waited. And waited. And waited. Once he finally tried to call again two years later, Will had changed numbers.
Mike thinks about this the most. If he had only called sooner would it be different. If he hadn't been so afraid to talk to Will would he still know him now. Of course, when Mike called and realized Will's number had changed, he was calling him this particular time to finally tell him how he really felt. Two years of thinking had finally led him to the expert conclusion that he was in love with Will Byers.
Of course he was in love with Will Byers. How could anything else ever make sense. All of Will's sunshine in his life. The way Will made him feel like he meant something to someone. The way Will could listen and understand, even if Mike was speaking a different language. Mike had been in love with Will since before he even fully understood the concept. And, in the two years it took him to roundaboutly reach this conclusion, Will had forgotten him completely.
Its for this reason Mike never changes his number. He stays here in Hawkins, sitting by the phone, wondering if Will might ever remember. He gets more hopeful during times he most misses Will. On Halloween he tends to stay by the phone all night. He often calls in sick on November 6th, even if Will doesn't call, he doesn't really feel up to working. Pretty much all the time he finds himself sitting by the phone, because there isn't much time he spends not missing Will.
His watch beeps that it is 9:00 right as he finishes up filing everything. He is ready to just head home for another typical night but a part of him feels too pathetic. These memories he's trapped in get him nowhere, but he can't think of anywhere else to go. In the end he decides to go to a bar down the road from his apartment. Somehow getting drunk in public feels less humiliating than in private.
When he enters the bar he sits down and orders a whiskey. Hes not sure why, he doesn't even like whiskey. It just feels like the thing to order at a bar. The bartender brings him his drink and he just looks at it for a few minutes. Big shocker that when you order something you don't like, you won't like it.
Mike lays down a 10 on the bar and he turns to leave, thoroughly hating his short adventure into Friday night social life, when he sees Him.
Mike does a double take at first. He often feels hes seeing Will when he really isn't. But he looks at the door again and honest to god Will Byers has just walked in. Hes had a million dreams like this. Imagined this happening a million times. What he'd say, how'd he react. But, in this moment, he just sits there.
After the initial shock, he takes a moment to admire how Will looks. He's different than how he was, but still the same in all the ways Mike remembers. He still has fluffy brown hair. He still has that wide grin that Mike remembers so well. He has a bit of a wider frame, and he even looks a bit taller than he used to be.
His style has definitely evolved. Mike takes in his radiohead shirt and leather jacket. Just peaking through behind the jacket, though, is a flannel tucked below as an additional layer. This makes Mike short circuit for a moment. It just feels so Will. He can't believe that Will Byers has been living out there in the world for ten years and that he's come back and he's still Will. For a moment, Mike feels a tinge of pain at the realization that Will Byers, his Will, is standing here in his town and didn't even call to let him know he'd be here. Maybe Will lost his number. Or maybe, in Mikes worst imagination, maybe Will didn't want to see him when he was here.
Mike isn't sure how long he's been staring, drinking in every little detail possible of Will. He's spent ten years reconstructing every single detail he could possibly remember of Will and now he suddenly has new material. He isn't sure what to do with himself.
Sometime during this long brainstorm of what has changed and what has stayed the same, Will has gotten closer to him. Close enough to speak infact. Mike has spent so long wondering what Will would say to him if he saw him again. Did he hate him? Did Will run away just to get away from Mike? Did he miss him? Would he tell him how amazing it is in the world out there? Would he ask him to come with him?
Instead Will just gives a friendly smile and points to the seat beside him asking, "is this seat taken?" Mike is thrown off for a moment, before settling on figuring that Will is just too cool for old reunions now and is playing this situation casual. Thats cool, he can do casual, totally. He hasn't been waiting for this at all.
"No, you're good, go ahead." Mike wonders if Will clocked the four voice cracks he managed to fit in such a small sentence. If he did, he chooses to ignore it because he just sits down. Mike still isn't really sure what to say, how to express the years and the longing he's felt, how to convey the part of his soul that Will took with him and the part of his soul he's had here left behind.
Mike once again thinks too long to have the opportunity to speak, because before he gets a word out Will looks over at him and says, "Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Will Byers."
Mike pauses. "You don't remember me?"