Work Text:
Will slipped out the front door of the Wheeler’s noisy house, breathing out a sigh. The atmosphere had been particularly hectic that morning, and it was overwhelming. Will had woken up on the wrong side of the bed; not grumpy, just glum. There were days when he woke up and everything was normal, like he wasn’t standing in the epicenter of the apocalypse and was just a normal high schooler. And more often, there were days where everything felt doomed, where it was all Will could do to put on a normal face and pretend like he was okay as to not upset his friends and family who were all in the same position as him. And in the middle, days like today. There wasn’t an overwhelming sense of dread that made his body feel like lead, there was just a blanket of gloom hanging over him. The acknowledgment that he was in the epicenter of the apocalypse and it was solely on the backs of the people he loved to prevent it. The acknowledgement that he was powerless to help, that any chance of helping would be immediately shut down by his mother. The acknowledgment that by the end of that year, that month, maybe even that week, he could be without some or all of the people he loved.
Will wasn’t afraid of dying; not because dying wasn’t scary, but because it seemed like an unlikely end for him at that point in time. And frankly, he wasn’t scared the world was going to end. Even with odds against them, he knew that his friends, his family, and the people who had stumbled straight into this mess by sheer fluke, were the strongest people he would ever know. He knew the world would come out on the other side of this mess thanks to them. He only feared that not all of them would be standing with him on the other side. That terrifying possibility seemed very likely, and it was that feeling that made these days so gloomy; not knowing who he may never see again.
Will grabbed his bike from beside the garage and got on, taking off down the street. He has told his mother and Jonathan where he was going, of course, lest either of them canvas the entire town needlessly searching for him. Both of them had tried to accompany him, but he had sternly refused. It wasn’t as if he was venturing out into danger. He was simply headed to Hopper’s cabin to see El, to maybe start to close the ever-growing rift between him and her, and the rest of the party. It was difficult, being back in Hawkins and separated from her. They had never known each other particularly well, but Will had felt a bond with her early on; perhaps from the moment she had first reached out to him telepathically while he was in the upside-down. Their bond had grown exponentially while in Lenora. Joyce had let up on the leash while they were there, distanced from everything. She had been distant in general. Jonathan had been distant also. Almost a different person for a long time. It wasn’t that he didn’t get along with his family while they were in California, it was just that things were so different that every moment between them felt stilted for a long time.
The distance and the changes had helped push El and Will together. It was nice to feel he had a purpose with El. He was used to being comforted, being protected, being helped. But with El, he got to help and support her. He got to sit beside her while she learned how to mourn for the losses she had endured, the loss of her father. He got to sit beside her while she struggled with a normal life, having never experienced anything close to it before. He helped her through school, through bullies. He admittedly hadn’t been the best at it, never one for speaking out against others. He had plenty of regrets from those months in California, but still, undeniably, El and him had become intertwined. Dependent on each other. Brother and sister.
The Wheeler’s house had felt empty without her there. Metaphorically, of course, as the house was stuffed to the brim with more people than should be there. He was grateful that she had Hopper and the cabin and a quiet, safe home, but he missed her. He missed poking his head into her room and asking if she wanted to watch a movie. He missed them sprawling out on his bed to work homework together, leaning over to help her whenever she was stuck. He missed her, and he hadn’t been able to see her much in the last few months because of the circumstances. So when Joyce said that she was “taking the day off from work,” he knew that Hopper had finally talked her into taking a break, and he set off immediately to see her.
While he had told his mother and Jonathan where he was going, he had still made a quiet and quick escape, as he hadn’t told Mike he was going anywhere. Mike, who had seemed to be glued to his side since his return to Hawkins. Living in such close quarters and being best friends, they were bound to see a lot of each other. And Will couldn’t lie, he was happy to feel like the center of Mike’s world again, like when they had been kids, but it was also suffocating. He assumed that Mike was overcompensating, trying to make up for his behavior after Will had moved, and during the start of spring break. He appreciated Mike’s overbearing loyalty and need to make things right, but the squeezing in his chest whenever they were close made it difficult to be on the receiving end of.
He knew Mike would’ve followed him to the cabin without second thought, without asking Will, and so he snuck out while Mike was upstairs in his room. To have alone time with his sister, but also to spare himself from being in trapped in the heavy atmosphere that was there when Mike and El were together. Will had thought it had been bad when they were glued together by the lips, but this was much, much worse. Watching two people he cared about sit in heavy silence, emanating unhappiness, but never addressing it… Will couldn’t bear watching it.
Will biked to the Squawk headquarters to enter the tunnels. It wasn’t remotely the closest entrance to the Wheeler’s, but it was the best place to stash his bike without position and slip in undetected. He parked his bike beside the station and walked to the edge of the woods, carefully climbing down the ladder into the tunnels. As his feet touched the ground, he felt that blanket of gloom start to slip back towards doom. He always felt uncomfortable in the tunnels. They were dark, cramped, the air was heavy, the world too quiet. It made his skin crawl on a good day. This was his first time traversing them alone. It felt like a prison.
He forced himself to take a deep breath and began walking with haste. The quicker he reached the cabin, the better. He found himself humming quietly as he walked, breaking the terrifying silence surrounding him. The same way he had comforted himself while trapped in the upside-down, alone, cold, and scared.
The tunnels felt like they stretched on forever, endless identical walls of dirt. He knew the way easily, despite how similar every turn looked. Finally, reaching the ladder at Hopper’s cabin, he scrambled up the rungs and out the hatch quickly, like a little kid scared of the dark, rushing across their unlit bedroom to the safety of their bed. He felt like he could breathe easier as soon as the sunlight hit his face.
Stepping carefully over the tripwire surrounding the cabin, he headed to the door. He stopped at the steps to the porch and knocked on the wooden beam carefully. Then, stepping up the steps, he came to the front door and knocked again. A code, to let Hopper and El know that it was not danger at the door. If anything, Will thought it was more of a safety precaution to protect him from being met at the door by Hopper holding a gun to his face. Hopper was on edge, all the time. It didn’t feel fair to call him paranoid, though, considering his fears were all legitimate.
“Joyce, I told you we’re taking a break—“ Hopper’s voice started as the door to the cabin opened. Will smiled softly and waved. Hopper’s face softened slightly and he stepped aside to let Will into the cabin. “You should’ve radioed to say you were coming,” Hopper spoke, patting Will on the shoulder.
“Sorry, I know… I just,” Will started, unsure how to continue his sentence. I just couldn’t without risking Mike knowing I was coming, and I didn’t want him here? No, Will couldn’t say that, though Hopper probably would’ve appreciated it. “I guess I thought my mom would let you know,” he landed on. Hopper quirked his eyebrow ever so slightly but said nothing, dropping the subject.
“El is in her room, go ahead,” he said, returning to his place at the small kitchen table where he was reading. Will quickly walked to El’s room, raising his hand to knock on the door, but it swung open before he could. El was smiling gently at him from her bed, and got up as soon as their eyes met, rushing forward for a hug.
Will stepped into El’s room and wrapped her in a hug. In that moment, it felt like nothing had changed between them, like they were still close like they had been in Lenora, like everything was almost normal.
“Hop won’t let me train today. Says I need rest.,” El spoke, still hugging Will. Will felt tears in his eyes and was instantly annoyed with his inability to not cry over every damn thing.
“He’s right,” Will said, leaning back from the hug. El reached up and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “And I’m glad you’re taking a break, because I miss you.” His voice cracked slightly with honesty, but he was smiling. It wasn’t scary to be honest with El in that way. She always understood, never judged. They stepped further into her room and both sat on her bed, the door closing behind them. He waited a moment to hear if Hopper would protest to the door being closed, but nothing came. Will wondered briefly if he trusted Will and knew that he thought of El as a sister, or if he knew more. Knew there was no “risk” to letting Will into his daughter’s room.
“I miss you too. It is lonely here, without you.”
Will swallowed and nodded. They sat in silence for a moment. Will felt some relief flood through his body. Even in the silence, the rift he had felt growing between them didn’t feel so big. “It’s so quiet here. I can’t imagine being alone with my thoughts this much.”
El shook her head. “Not alone,” she said, and Will wasn’t sure what she meant until she gestured to the small tape deck on her nightstand. There was a stack of tapes beside it, all carefully put away in their cases. Mixtapes that would give most listeners whiplash, but had carefully been constructed by Will for El when they were in Lenora. A mix of his and Jonathan’s taste, which El had become accustomed to, with a dash of the songs Hopper loved, that reminded El of her father, and a sprinkle of popular hits. The sort of music that El might be listening to if she just got to be a normal kid, without the weight of the world on her shoulders. El always insisted that she liked the music that Will and Jonathan listened to, and he didn’t think she was lying, but he knew she appreciated the upbeat pop in the list more than anything. “It reminds me of Max,” she had admitted once while they were in Lenora. Since that admission, Will had made sure to increase the amount of those songs in the mixes.
Will felt teary eyed again, but pushed the feeling down. “I need to make you a new one, you must be getting sick of those.” El shook her head and laid back across her bed. Will hesitantly laid back beside her, and they both stared at the ceiling.
Silence stretched out between the two of them again, and this time Will feared that the rift was opening back up. “Hey El,” he said after a moment, turning over slightly to face her and resting his head on his arm. “How are you? Like, how are you really? Because I know I’m really struggling and it must be so much harder for you and I feel like I haven’t been here for you enough.”
El closed her eyes slowly, remaining faced toward the ceiling. She let out a shaky breath and reached blindly, grabbing Will’s free hand and threading their fingers together. “I don’t know,” she said eventually. She didn’t say anything else, and Will rolled back onto his back to look to the ceiling again, keeping their hands clasped together. Eventually, El sat up, releasing Will’s hand and leaning toward her nightstand to press play on her tape deck. Quiet music started playing, and only in that moment did Will realize his ears had been ringing in the silence of the room. He wondered if El’s had been too.
He sat up also, and they moved to sit against the bed’s headboard. Some cheesy love song started crooning from the tape deck, and El glanced at him. “How is Mike?” She said eventually. Will felt a pit in his stomach that the love song had made her so quickly think of Mike, and felt immediate guilt for feeling anything at all in that moment.
He shrugged. “He’s Mike. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking lately. I’m with him constantly, but I’ve never been so unsure of what’s going through his head.”
El nodded in agreement. “He has not come here at all,” she said. Will already knew this, having spent almost every waking moment in Mike’s present. His stomach sank again, and he grabbed El’s hand once more.
“I’m sorry,” Will said after a moment.
El turned to look at him. “Sorry?”
Will nodded. “I’m sorry that he hasn’t come to see you. That things have been weird. I don’t know if… something happened, outside of what happened during Spring Break. But I’ve noticed that its been weird and I wish I could do something to fix it for you.”
El squeezed his hand. “It is not your job to fix. And… I do not know if it can be fixed.”
The ringing in Will’s ears returned despite the music still gently playing in the room. “What… do you mean, can’t be fixed?”
El let out a gentle breath. “You are right, I have been alone with thoughts. And I have been thinking about love.” Will squeezed her hand tightly, though it was less a comfort to her and more to ground himself. “How do you know if you are in love?” She whispered this, and there was a slight shake to her voice.
Will didn’t know what to say, but El didn’t continue, and he knew that the question hadn’t been rhetorical, and that she was waiting on an answer.
“I think… it’s different for everyone. Everyone feels love differently, and there are so many different types of love… and… and being in love especially is different for everyone. Because the things that are the most important for one person might be different for someone else.” It was a non-answer, but he really didn’t have an answer. Especially not one that wouldn’t be incriminating, that wouldn’t fill him with guilt and disgust for a million different reasons.
El was never one to let anyone get away with evading the truth though. “Have you ever been in love?” She asked gently. Will gulped, loud enough to be heard by El. He went to move his hand away from her, shaking, but she held it tightly and didn’t let him retreat. She leaned forward to look him in the eyes, and her expression softened.
“I love you,” she said, freeing him from having to speak. “I love Hopper, I love Joyce, and I love Jonathan. I love Max, and Dustin, and Lucas. And I love Mike,” she said, certainty in her voice remaining throughout the entire sentence. “But I do not know if the love for Mike is different than the love for everyone. I do not know how to know.” She leaned back against the bed frame, tears spilling from her eyes.
“That’s okay,” Will whispered, trying to hide the shake in his voice. “It’s okay to be uncertain.”
“It does not feel ‘Okay.’”
Will’s voice steadied. In that moment, he felt like he was truly understanding El’s feelings, El’s doubts, El’s fears. “I know. There’s nothing scarier than not knowing. I wish I could give you a better answer. A solution. But I… I don’t have one.”
There was another stretch of silence, and El slowly leaned her head to rest on Will’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” she whispered, and Will felt guilt wash over him for the millionth time. He was useless, even in this moment El was comforting him when this wasn’t about him.
“El…” he started, but felt her shake her head against his shoulder.
“It’s okay,” she repeated, firmly this time. There were still tears on her face. “When we moved away, I felt so alone. Hopper was g-gone, and we left everyone. And Mike. Mike was… Mike was… When Max showed me that I could be without Mike, everything was different. I told him that I loved him back before we left.” Her sentence was disjointed. Will could tell that she didn’t know how to communicate what she was feeling and thinking. He had seen it before. He was trying to read between the lines of what she was saying, so that he could help her understand what she felt.
“I think… sometimes the idea of something and the reality of something just don’t line up,” he tried, hoping that he was not off base.
El laughed at that. Not a laugh of humor but a single, painful, puff of air. A laugh of relief, maybe. “Yes. Mike’s idea and Mike’s reality are not the same.” She used her free hand to wipe her face free of tears. “I thought we are supposed to be in love. Sometimes I wonder if he only thinks that also.”
Silence again. Not a heavy one, or a dreadful one, or an awkward one. It was an understanding silence. Will felt lighter. It was the first time in months that he felt like he and El were really seeing each other again. Their palms grew sweaty where they were pressed together between them, but neither moved.
When Will thought about what El said, the tension he had felt around her and Mike made sense. It made enough sense that Will thought she could be right about Mike also thinking that they were supposed to be in love. A flutter of hope in his chest stirred at that and was quickly taken down by a cannonball of guilt dropping onto him. How could he feel hope or happiness in this moment, where his sister was losing her first love she had ever felt. Almost as if El could read his emotions, she squeezed his hand reassuringly.
Will often felt like El could tell what he was feeling. He wished he could read her in the same way; offer her the same support. For a brief moment the thought crossed his mind that he could tell her everything. The truth. Just how different he was. He wasn’t afraid that she’d judge him. He knew she would understand better than anyone what being different is like. If anything, he feared that she simply wouldn’t understand the gravity of what he told her. Or worse, that she might mention it to someone else, not knowing why it was a secret that he was keeping locked tight.
Ultimately, that fear, and the fear of being selfish, of leaning on El for this when she was already carrying so much, kept his lips sealed.
They continued to sit there, listening to the quiet music, and leaning their heads on each other. Eventually, the tape ended, and the room fell completely silent again. Somewhere outside the room, they could hear Hopper in the kitchen, rummaging through a cabinet. Will took the opportunity to sit up straighter and to pull on El’s hand, dragging her into another hug. “I’m here for you, El,” and he felt fresh tears against his neck where El’s face rested.
“I know. And I am here for you Will,” she said, and Will squeezed her tighter.
“I know.”
“El! Will! I made lunch!” Hopper’s voice called from the other room, louder than it really needed to be to reach them in the small cabin. El and Will released each other and both wiped their faces, looking each other in the eyes. They both smiled at each other, brightly, genuinely, even though their eyes were still red from crying. As if the ground was shifting beneath their feet in that very moment, Will felt the rift between them close.