Chapter Text
It’s the second semester of college, the winter is wilting away and leaving room for the spring air. Usually it’s this time of the year where Will could rest from his worry, “he likes it cold” a phrase that haunted him since he was twelve that is nothing but a memory now thanks to Jane Hopper.
As the heat rolls in Mike switches from hot to iced coffee to keep him up at night, writing endless stories of what could have been with Eleven but each and every story seems so out of character for her.
New York’s colder than Hawkins both boys know that since the heater was cranked up all last semester.
“Mike, have you seen the scarf Carlton gave me?” Will asks, scrambling through his cabinets, a mess being made and clothes being unfolded in the scramble.
“Dude I don’t know.” Mike said pouring another cup of coffee from their dorm room coffeemaker that could be seen as Mike's coffee maker considering how much he uses it and how attached he is to said coffeemaker.
“I need to wear it for this hangout before he freaks out.” Will says now checking Mike's closet (which is a complete mess) he finds the green scarf next to a pile of socks that he hopes are clean. “Mike!”
Mike's gaze lifts from the typewriter on this desk a look of realization hitting him. “Shit sorry I don’t even know how that got there.”
Will wraps the scarf around his neck which makes his outfit look strange since the rest of his clothes are more fit for the spring. “How do I look?”
“You don’t need to wear that scarf you know? Who gives a shit if Carlton gave it to you, I think you’d look better without it.” Mike shakes his head realizing how he phrased it, “I mean it clashes with the yellow of your outfit. It makes you look sickly.”
“You know I care that Carlton gave it to me, I want to put it to use at least one more time before it gets too warm. You know, to show that I care about his gifts and all.” Will says looking through his closet for a shirt that doesn’t clash with the scarf which is proving to be difficult considering his wardrobe consists mostly of yellow.
“Well why would he give you a green scarf if he knows it doesn’t fit with the clothes you wear? Looks like he doesn’t pay attention...” Mike trails off going back to the typewriter starting his next story about Eleven.
Will frowns at the conversation ending, “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? The art museum has a cool gift shop.” But Mike is already gone in his writing zone and just gives some mumbles saying something about will enjoying his date.
“Alright I should be back by nine, just uh, please make sure to take breaks.”
That snaps Mike out of his writing trance, looking up to spot the worry on Will's face. “Yeah. Cool.”
***
“William, there you are.”
“I told you to stop calling me that.” Will complains while meeting the taller guy in his car outside of Will’s dorm.
“It’s intimate, I can’t help it.” Carlton says opening the passenger seat for Will which he accepts and takes his seat.
“It just brings back some uncomfortable memories. I don’t want you to remind me of them.” Will says, putting his seatbelt on as Carlton slips into the driver's seat.
“Well that’s unfortunate but I say it in hopes of making good memories with you, so no can do William but I’ll keep saying your name.” Carlton chuckles as he leans to Will’s seat, giving Will a kiss, which Will returns.
Will smiles into the kiss, just as Carlton tries to switch over to Will's side of the car, trying to lay Will's seat down, Will gently pushes Carlton while pulling away from the kiss.
“The museum. The art museum!” Will says, giving Carlton a jokingly disappointed look, “seriously keep it in your pants please.”
“Yeah yeah, as you wish William.”
Will frowns at his full name, it reminds him of the cold hand caressing his face, the deep voice telling him that they would do great things together before-
“Did you hear me?”
Will snaps out of the memory of Vecna turning to see Carlton glancing at him worriedly. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I asked if after the museum you wanted to come over to my apartment .” Carlton says stopping at the red light giving his attention to Will, “Not for anything weird, just to hang, maybe have a drink.”
Will smiles at the invitation, “I’d like that, emphasis on maybe though, I don’t drink.”
“Yeah yeah, I know you’re as healthy as a horse.”
***
“Shit!” Mike yells crumbling yet another piece of his writing into the overfilled trash can. Overfilled with his failures of writing, that’s not how El acts, overfilled with his failures of not being able to save her, why couldn’t he just run faster? Why couldn’t he just talk sense into eleven? Would she still be alive?
Why couldn’t he just tell Eleven he loved her?
Mike knew she would die, she did too, so why couldn’t he even say it in their final moments?
And why.
Why?
Can’t he write her, why is she so out of character, sometimes he writes her like Max, or Lucas, or, Dustin, most of the time, he writes her like how Will acts. Which makes sense, Will is her brother, it makes sense that Will reminds Mike most of Eleven, but has he already forgotten how Eleven made him feel?
How did Eleven -Jane- make him feel? Loved? Yeah, she was a good friend, girlfriend . He loved her, but he loves all his friends, so why, why can’t he write her accurately?
Why is the only thing he can think to write about the painting?
Hopper had told Mike to choose happiness, but what does that even mean? Mike can’t get his happiness until he manages to get this right, he needs to write her accurately.
What would Eleven say right now?
***
“This one’s really caught your eye hasn’t it?”
Will doesn’t respond, just continues to be engulfed in the artwork ahead, some painting made by a community member, they won a painting competition and in return get to have their artwork hung in the museum for a month.
It’s a dark forest, lots of roots and vines surrounding the area with no animals to be found, at the center of the painting is the imprint of a human seemingly drowned by the vines.
It reminds Will of helping the kids out of the Mindflayer after defeating Vecna, freeing them from being restrained to the wall.
It reminds William of that night, the hand caressing his face, “We will do great things together William.” The tentacle coming closer to his face, then to his mouth and then-
“Hey are you alright?” Will flinches as he feels a hand on his shoulder.
It’s Carlton, of course it is.
It’s his date, they came here together, he’s at an Art Museum not back in the upsidedown, he’s eighteen not twelve anymore. He’s safe.
“Yeah I just, just zoned out. I’m fine.” Will glances back to the painting one last time taking a deep breath. “Should we move on?”
“Yeah we should, I don’t like this painting much.” Carlton says, squeezing Will's shoulder before turning to go to the other painting. “I would much rather one of your paintings be displayed here.”
Will gives out a nervous chuckle, still trying to calm down from the memory he was about to drown in. That’s been happening so much lately.
Sometimes Will can’t tell memory from reality and he’ll find himself running away from nothing in the middle of the night. Only regaining his sense of reality when he eventually trips on some rock he didn’t see.
Sometimes he wakes at night feeling like he’s not the one in control of his body.
Sometimes William can still feel the ghost of Vecna's hand caressing his face, telling him they’ll do great things together.
Sometimes he wonders why it was Jane and not him, he’s indirectly killed so many, it’s his fault they’re dead. Jane only killed when she had to.
Why couldn’t she be here instead of him?
“Actually, I’m feeling a bit, um, I don’t know. I didn’t think that far into the sentence.” Will says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Just can we go?”
Carlton sighs dramatically, “I guess we can, I was really enjoying that painting of that dead dog over there. Seriously, what is it with this museum, it’s so gloomy.”
“Yeah gloomy, I need some air we should go.”
“To my dorm?” Carlton says with a hopeful tone, even batting his lashes at Will.
“Um, yeah sure let’s go.”
***
The car ride to Carlton’s dorm was silent other than the radio playing David Bowie- queer radio station, it’s one of the only stations they can play that doesn’t have commenters talking about how the illness going around the gays is a punishment from God for their sins.
Carlton makes a comment every now and then about his classes killing him and he’s glad he has Will to help keep his sanity.
“This right here.” Carlton says placing two beer bottles down on the study desk they’re sitting at, they’re the only two in the room considering Carlton has a singles apartment so Will can assume that the second beer is for him. “Is also how I keep my sanity. You ever been stressed? Have a drink, it does wonders, truly the only reason I’m passing all my classes.” Carlton pops the bottles open, passing one to Will and taking a sip of his own.
“No thanks.” Will says pushing the bottle back towards Carlton so he’s not tempted.
“Come on, just try it, it’s my secret to life.” Carlton says, grabbing Will's hand gently and placing the bottle in his hand and holding it there as Will tries to place it down again.
“You’re two years older than me, I wouldn’t say you have the best “secrets to life” plus when we first met that was like… like the first thing I told you.” Will says, holding his ground against the drink in his hand.
Secret to keeping his sanity?
“When I met you last semester I was failing two of my classes, that was before I started drinking before I studied. I’m telling you it does wonders.” The weight of the bottle increases as Carlton slowly lets go of the beer, letting it rest on Will's hand alone. “I saw you at the museum, something definitely traumatic happened to you that you don’t want to talk about. This will help believe me.”
Will looks down at the open beer, it’s the same brand Lonnie would have in the fridge.
Lonnie.
The reason Will refuses to drink.
Will refuses to end up like Lonnie.
“Come on, the only way to get over your fears and traumas is by facing them, and something tells me one of them has to do with drinking.” He takes another sip.
Will shouldn’t.
He really shouldn’t.
But he’s heard stories. About how people drink to forget.
Oh how Will wants to forget.
People drink to have fun with friends.
How Will missed his best friend before Mike fell into an endless cycle of writing.
People drink with their loved ones.
Oh how Will misses Eleven.
And with people they trust.
Will trusts Carlton.
Not everyone drinks to get addicted like Lonnie had.
Not everyone drinks to hurt others like Lonnie had.
And Will doesn’t even have kids. He doesn’t have people in his life that he could harm like how Lonnie had harmed him.
Will Byers is not Lonnie.
Carlton must have seen the wheels turning in Wills head because he takes Wills hand and helps guide the bottle to Wills mouth.
“That’s it baby you got it.”
And Will Byers drinks.