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Will Byers knew he was not a boy who could win.
It was never his destiny. He had accepted it the second his ‘father’ called him a fag as a little kid- now, after all this time, it seemed life had proved it to him over and over again. The Upside Down. The Mindflayer. Bob Newby. California. Jane. And, of course, Mike Wheeler.
He’s not like me. I know he’s not like me. Will reminded himself of it every second. Despite that, it didn’t stop him from wishing. Even when he took Robin’s words for himself- he’s just my Tammy- he never stopped wishing. Mike was his anchor. Yes, Will had accepted himself. There was power in that, so much power. Yet there was still a limit. Mike could never understand how much of that power came from the love they shared.
Will’s spiraling thoughts were interrupted by a knock at his bedroom door. Three gentle raps that Will recognized as his brother Jonathan, finally back home from NYU.
“Hey, buddy!” Jonathan was always a light. Will smiled, and dashed over to hug his brother. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” Will murmured. “What’s been going on with you?”
“My movie- the Consumer, you know? Nancy, Robin, Steve, and I have just started filming it in Robin’s creepy uncle’s basement. It won’t be a hit, but the art is what matters, you know-”
Will giggled. Always the pretentious hipster, but it was true. “Yeah. The art is what matters.” He blinked, his eyes closing a little too tightly as he thought of the goddamn painting. He’ll never know the truth.
“Something up?” Jonathan’s voice was laced with concern. “Oh, God. Don’t tell me it’s Mike.”
Will groaned, flopping down on his striped yellow bedsheets. “It’s so stupid! I wish I was over it, but it’s like everything that’s ever happened, it’s all connected to him. Every, uh, good thing.” His stomach boiled a little, realizing how that must sound to his brother who had done so much for him.
But Jonathan sat down above his head, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s hard. I mean, Nance, she was my light in the dark too. Of course it’s different for you, though. I can’t imagine it, Will. But I’m always there for you- well, I’m in New York, but you can always send a letter if you’re ever feeling bad. About him or Jane or anything.”
Tears stung in Will’s eyes. “Thanks, Jonathan. And I know, really, it’s just- I wish I could tell him for real.”
Jonathan bit his lip. “Well, you’re going to college, but not him, right?”
“Uh, Mike is taking a gap year, yeah.”
Jonathan snorted.
“What?”
“He’s gonna stay in his parents’ basement, Will, even though those fuckers are rich enough for any college. You might have to rescue him. Nineteen months later, still moping!”
“Hey! Not cool, Jonathan. I-it was hard for everyone, losing Jane, but yeah, she wouldn’t want to see him so- so miserable. It’s almost-”
“Self-centered? Yeah, did you see how he needed you to rub his back to tell Jane he loved her? He wallows and expects everyone to pity him. Look, Will, you have conquered absolutely everything, and you’ve never complained. Never. So, however stupid Mike is, don’t feel bad for being a little stuck on him, okay? I know how much he means to you, even if I…”
“Hate him.”
“Dislike most of his actions. I think you should talk to him, is what I was really getting at. Even if it’s awkward, you’re going to college, and the distance will make that fade.”
Will rose from his laying position and choked a little. “Talk?! What could I even say, I mean, where do I even start?”
Jonathan considered for a second. “The painting.”
Will sighed. He never told Jonathan what that painting really meant, but he was in the car when he confessed to Mike, posing as Jane. Of course he knew.
“But that was a long time ago. It would be weird to bring it up, especially since he thinks it’s really from Jane. I should let him be happy about it.”
“Fuck that, Will! You deserve to be happy, too. If he doesn’t think his girlfriend loved him, that’s his problem. And you know lying about it was wrong, too.”
Old guilt seared Will’s mind. It was so, so tricky- he lied to protect his best friend and his sister. He sacrificed himself. Only he got hurt, like always. What was so wrong about that?
“I don’t blame you for it, Will, of course not.” Jonathan elaborated. “But you know what Mom has been saying. You can’t keep putting everyone else before yourself. The truth being out, it can only help both of you in the end. When you came out to us- even though that bastard kind of made you- it helped you become stronger. You were honest, and we won, okay?”
The memory hurt his head. “We didn’t all win,” Will muttered. He remembered his sister. Even though they weren’t biologically related, they looked like they could be twins. And God, were they as close as twins. It was pointless, dwelling on it, but she shouldn’t have died.
“It wasn’t fair what happened to Jane. But we were just saying this! You know she wouldn’t want us to refuse ourselves for her sake. And she would never ask you to lie, or not go for it, Will.”
“Go for it? Uh, you don’t mean-”
Jonathan smiled. “I think Mike might be more like you than you reckon. Or he reckons, for that matter.”
“No,” Will began. “He’s an asshole. Besides, it took me, like, years to accept I was gay. It’s not happening to Mike with one confession.”
“I know. But you know, maybe you could, uh, open his curiosity door some more?”
Will groaned. “Please don’t say stuff like that.”
“A door opened demands to be entered,” Jonathan deepened his voice, as if saying something profound. “Once he realizes he’s gay he might become less fucking weird, Will. Even if you don’t want him then, it’s gonna be hilarious when he comes around begging you to date.”
Will’s face turned red, and he covered his eyes. “You’re getting way ahead of yourself!”
“Ok, ok, whatever. But please, tell him about the painting. I really do think it could help both of you.”
“Yeah… I mean, you’re right, Jonathan. The truth. It makes us stronger to say it out loud.”
Jonathan grinned. “That’s right. Hey, I’m going to take pictures around their neighborhood tomorrow. If you’re ready, I can take you with me.”
His brother got up and walked out of his room, throwing Will’s blue shirt on the floor in the laundry hamper for him. Will laid back down, heart racing, bringing his sketchbook on his nightstand close to his chest. He supposed it wasn’t fair to let Mike believe a lie, though it also seemed wrong to take the belief from him. But then, again, what Jonathan and his mother and Hopper had been saying- put yourself first for once, Will! You deserve good things, Will! You can do anything you put your mind to, Will!
Besides, was it really fair to Jane, to have lied about her feelings, too? Will blinked hard, sitting up. It wasn’t. It would have hurt her to know. He had to do it for both of them. But yourself first, Jonathan’s voice spoke in his head.
He opened his sketchbook. Art had always helped him process everything, though sometimes it was hard to look back on that processing. He had always coped a lot easier than other kids might have, if everything that had happened to him happened to someone else. But still, he remembered, and looking back on it- sketches of the Upside Down, of his worst nightmares, of everything- it stung. And still, Mike stung him a little.
His most recent page. The paladin, on the left, shining in his armor, looking to the right. The right page was empty, but he knew what belonged there.
He picked up his pencil and began drawing the cleric.
The next day couldn’t have come sooner. Will got up early, cooking his family pancakes with a strange enthusiasm about the conversation he was going to have. He shouldn’t feel so excited to do something so nervewracking, but this time, it was his choice, and he really wanted to.
“Wow, Will cooking. Never thought I’d see it,” grumbled Hopper, trailing behind Joyce from their bedroom.
“Never thought I’d see you up before eight,” chimed Joyce. “You got plans?”
“Does he!” exclaimed Jonathan with a smile, stumbling to the kitchen table. “You tell them.”
Will breathed in slowly. “Well, in California, I made Mike this painting. I mean, I was in love with him, but I pretended like it wasn’t from me, you know, I said all this stuff and I lied to him. It wasn’t fair, for anyone, so today, I’m telling him about it.”
Hopper’s jaw went slack. “Are you still in love with him?”
“Hop, it’s not about that!” Joyce reprimanded. “That’s really good for you, Will. I’m glad.”
Will and Jonathan laughed. “Don’t worry,” Will explained. “I don’t think Mike will be, uh, coming out of that basement.”
Jonathan snorted. “Or anywhere just yet.”
“This is just for me. Closure, you know.”
“Closure.” Hopper emphasized. “Good for you, kid.”
After they ate, Will and Jonathan got in the car and drove over to the Wheeler’s neighborhood. Jonathan dropped him off, giving him a thumbs-up as Will knocked on the door.
Karen greeted him, with Ted and Holly in the living room watching TV.
“Hi, Will. Looking for Mike?” she asked, moving a strand of hair from her eyes. “He’s downstairs. Come on in.”
Will made his way to that familiar basement. Holly and her friends’ Dungeons & Dragons equipment lay out on the table where the boys had so often played, giving Will a shine of pride and nostalgia. Mike sat on the couch, where Jonathan had slept when the Byers were living with the Wheelers. What a time. And it had given Will hope, for him and Mike, as much as he was confused by it. Mike had so often checked on him, asked Will to draw him, dragged Will to his room to do just nothing. Will found both of them staring at each other for far too long, brushing hands, running into each other even when there was nothing in the way. It made him think Jonathan might just be right. But, then again, there was also plenty of reason to believe he was wrong.
Not friends — best friends!
Mike shot up, surprised to see Will. “Oh, hey man, what’s up? Is something wrong?”
Will’s nerves flared up. He hadn't even called to say he was coming over! He did feel a little relief, looking around the basement and not seeing his drawings plastered all over the walls. After Will’s insistence, Mike had begrudgingly let the other party members take the drawings of their characters once they had finished their last session. Truthfully, Mike keeping them didn’t bother him, he just didn’t like seeing his old, old art displayed by the boy he loved. It was cute, but that was the problem- he didn’t think Mike felt anything cute towards him.
“Uh, nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to talk to you about something…”
“Oh, shit. What did I do?”
Will chuckled. “You’re assuming you’re in the wrong! No, uh… I am. Can we go to your room?”
Mike blinked, tugging on the neck of his green sweater. “Yeah. Yeah, of course, but I’m not upset about anything-”
“I know. It’s just- I need to say something. Something important.”
The boys walked up the stairs and made their way to Mike’s room. Will’s heart skipped a beat when he saw it- the painting, laying flat on the desk. He breathed in hard. The three-headed dragon, the party, the heart on Mike’s shield, the shit he said in the car.
Mike sat down on his bed. “I’m not upset,” he repeated blankly. “And I won’t be. Whatever it is, I swear.”
Will gulped. Mike seemed a little overeager. “The- the painting.”
Mike closed his eyes. “Oh, Will. I mean, I think I know what you’re gonna-”
“Stop!” Will blurted, a little too forceful. He knows? “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for lying about it. But it was all true, okay. I mean, I can’t tell you what El felt. But it really was true for me. I love you.”
Will paused, face turning red, focusing his eyes on the wall just above the painting. “I loved you. That’s what the painting meant.”
Mike stayed silent for far too long. “Yeah, shit, Will. Thank you.” He paused again. “Really, thank you. I-I couldn’t have said anything I did after without you, but I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel safe enough to be able to say it as yourself. I’m sorry.”
“No,” Will responded, biting his lip. “It was wrong to lie. To not speak for myself. To speak for her.”
They lingered in the quiet for awhile, until Will broke it again. “You knew? How did you…?”
Mike murmured something he couldn’t make out.
“Huh?”
“Nothing, it’s just… it’s weird. I kind of hoped, for some reason, it was you. When you came out, I mean, you looked at me when- when you talked about your crush. I… I don’t know. I don’t know, it’s stupid Will.” Mike blushed. “Not you! Me.”
Will stared at him, dumbfounded. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, I guess, I’m confused. About what I feel, what I’ve always felt. You always made me think… you’ve shown me what’s possible, Will.”
Will’s mind was racing, but he didn’t want to ask if what he was hearing was real.
“Uh, I mean, that’s… crazy. Not like that, I just never thought that I… made you think.”
Mike chuckled, but his voice broke. “We did go crazy together, huh.” He looked up. “I mean, it’s all so crazy. Thank you for actually telling me, Will, it means a lot. I… I just need time to think some more. About how I feel.”
Will nodded. “I understand. You have time. We all do. If you need someone to help, I’m- I’m always here.”
Mike looked back down. “Are you?”
He sighed. “Please, just send letters back this time! I’ll visit whenever I can. You know, you should try to get out of here, too, Mike. It’ll help you think.”
Mike’s gaze wandered to the painting. “You might be right.” He bit his lip. “You know, I’ve always wanted to write. Comics, maybe, and maybe you can illustrate. One day.”
Will smiled. “That would be really nice. One day. But first, you have to put this place- the shit that happened to us- behind you, okay? We all do. I- I mean it will always be part of us, but we can’t stay stuck on what we can’t change. We have to create our futures, our lives beyond Hawkins.”
Mike stared at him thoughtfully. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” He snorted. “You always are, huh?”
Will laughed, his gaze fixed on the boy who was thinking about how he felt. “Well, I don’t know about always.”
Jonathan picked him up a few minutes later. Their conversation hadn’t taken that long, which made Will think he hadn’t been taking pictures at all.
“How’d it go?” Jonathan asked.
“I make him think,” Will responded, unable to hide the smile in his voice.
“I fucking told you!”
Will spent the rest of the day at home. He stared at the sketchbook. Looking at his drawing of Mike didn’t make him ache anymore. In fact, he was oddly giddy. The truth had helped both of them, but especially Will. It was like the weight of the world was off his shoulders.
He looked down at his drawing, himself as the cleric and Mike as the paladin. He took his colored pencils from his desk and began to color both sides hues of blue and yellow, green where the pages met. It had been about him, accepting himself, but that didn’t mean Mike wasn’t in the picture. He was always in the picture, no matter what happened. They just both needed their own time to see it in full.