Chapter Text
November 12th, 1983.
It’s hard to breathe. The Upside Down was endlessly cold and dark, a suffocating spiral of shadow that seemed to engulf everything it contained in misery. Huddled in the corner of his personal hideout, Castle Byers, his comfort place, a tiny Will Byers found that it didn’t feel that way here. The lopsided structure that had once been almost amusing to Will was now mocking him from above his head, threatening with every second to cave in. The sheets and blankets that lay on top were no longer popping with colour and character, but darkened at the ends and coated in a dust-mould. He once felt like the king of his very own fortress, but now, he just felt like a mouse caught in a trap way bigger than him.
Everything that he once loved and adored about his cosy little refuge was now twisted and wrong in this nightmare world Will seemed to find himself in. He sang to himself quietly in a teeny voice, each word racking his body with shivers on the ground. Even in winter, Hawkins was never as cold as this. The fact that he was soaking wet with some sort of slime made him even more uncomfortable - the liquid seemed to intensify the wind’s chill against his skin.
Scattered lyrics of Should I Stay or Should I Go escaped the young boy’s mouth, a song he had once found so comforting: a song that he and Jonathan would sing together. It got him through so many hard times in his earlier childhood. How much he wanted to see Jonathan. He wanted to run to him and curl up in his arms, where Jonathan would tell him that ‘it’s alright’ and that he’s ‘here now’.
“S-should I sta-y or should I g-go now?” Will murmurs to himself, eyes shut tight. He imagines his brother next to him, singing along. This thought seems to calm Will down a bit.
A crunch of something out there immediately causes Will to shoot up with a soft gasp. Heavy footsteps rose and fell in the fallen leaves outside, the all-too-familiar trill of a demogorgon, an unnatural clicking sound. Every instinct in Will’s body told him to make a run for it, to just dart out of there, but Will seemed to be paralysed in fear.
His eyes grew wide like those of a baby deer, frozen in headlights, his bottom lip wobbling with utter fear. He sees the tall, inhuman figure creeping about from the gaps in the branches that held Castle Byers together. Eventually, he feels the presence fade away, the footsteps growing quieter...
He lets out a sigh of relief that is immediately withdrawn. The creature crashes through Castle Byers with a shriek, arms outstretched towards the young boy. Its face opens up to reveal a horrifying flower of teeth that would chomp through Will in a heartbeat. He screams, scrambling for his father’s gun, which he had snatched from the shed before they took him. It felt so huge in his hands, but he knew how to fire it. He pulled the trigger, a bullet plunging into its hole of a mouth and wedging in its throat. Blood splatters onto Will’s face, yet he doesn’t have time to be scared.
He darts from Castle Byers, running faster than he’d ever done, only getting around 10 metres away when he heard the demogorgon roar like a predatory animal hunting its prey. He wove in and amongst the vines and trees in his way, heart pumping a million beats a second, it felt. The pounding of clawed feet on the earth followed behind him, threatening a bloody death if he dared to slow down. Then, he spies a sanctuary: a tree.
Branches protruded from it like spikes; he could climb high and wait for the monster to leave. He clutches branches as he clambers up, his legs aching from being hauled up faster than they were used to. His hands are wet with sweat and the residue of whatever fleshy abomination had touched him before. Yet, he had to be brave; he had to keep climbing higher. Upon reaching the highest branch, he clings to it, staring down into the pit of fog below. Nothing.
BOOM! The demogorgon pounces upwards, making its way to the boy quickly and stealthily. Searching desperately for another way, Will notices an identical tree next to it. He just needed to get there. The demogorgon reaches him, yet not before Will leaps from his spot and crashes into the branch closest. Then his fingers slip.
He plunges to the ground, spore-filled air rushing past his face, making impact hard. He lost all his breath from the wind, and blackness consumed his vision. The demogorgon clutches his leg, claws digging into his flesh, and drags his unconscious body for what seemed like hours. Then it stops. His eyes start to flutter open, slowly taking in his surroundings. He wasn’t outside anymore, but the air was still as cold. It was the Hawkins Library, where Will and his friends often hung out to read fantasy stories. It looked scary.
Will tried to move, but every inch of his body stung. He felt it. Tendrils emerged from the shadows of the building, thick, wet, pulsating, wrapping around his limbs like snakes. They pushed him against the wall, his body sinking into the meaty, disgusting substance that infested it. He started to panic, yet the tendrils tightened. More rose from the ground, pulsing along every surface on his body.
His eyes welled with tears. He felt helpless. Then, from the entrance in front of him, came something else. More footsteps. Yet, they seemed more human and light. Maybe someone had come to help.
The mystery figure reveals themself, their appearance even more grotesque and ugly than Will had ever imagined. They were not human. They couldn’t be. Made of meat and slithering underneath like parasites, they were burned-looking with visible veins. Their body was entirely covered in a dark, oily substance that resembled the slimy look and texture of intestines. And vines... Vines outside, which almost tripped Will, wrapped around their necks and limbs.
Will squirmed and struggled in his trap, a lump forming in his throat as they got closer. The eyes were wise, yet menacing, like a lion who is planning its next move. Will stared up at the monstrous man-thing before him, feeling utterly small and defeated.
“At long last... we can begin,” they start in a guttural, deep voice that could send shivers up your spine. A tendril rose towards Will’s face, persisting against him when he tried to turn away. More vines held his head in place until he became still. His mind raced as the tentacle touched his lips, grossly warm. He closed his mouth shut, shaking his head as violently as he could muster.
The tendril forced its way inside, though, releasing something into his mouth and down his throat that crawled and intruded into his body. Tears streamed down his face as these slug-like entities rolled into his stomach, against his will. He could feel it everywhere.
Vomiting seemed imminent for him, yet the tendril ensured nothing could escape his system. He tasted throw-up and blood in his mouth, his shouts and yelps being muffled under the flesh. He felt those things settling, growing, nesting in his organs.
The figure, who had been orchestrating the tendrils, now moved ever closer. Will pleaded quietly for help to get out. The monster lifted a spider-like finger towards Will’s face, a sharp nail approaching his right eye. Will shakes with fear of having it poked out, yet the finger moves down to his cheek. The thing caresses his face, the stench of death and decay foul in its breath.
“You and I... we are going to do such beautiful things together, William.” Will sobbed, his throat in excruciating pain - those slug things could barely fit down his throat. “Such beautiful things.”
The last thing Will sees before passing out is those cold, lifeless eyes staring into his soul. Before long, his head lolls forward, and he faints.
“i felt it, mom.. i felt it everywhere..”
-
That experience had haunted Will for 4 years. The feeling of helplessness and terror faded over time, but never really went away. He hadn’t felt it this strongly since he was 13. It was like a million volts of electricity rushing through his body, urging him to do something, calling upon him to move. bodies of soldiers everywhere. Blood coating the concrete underfoot. Demogorgons dragged the innocent children away, across the sticky ground to who-knows-where.
Tears spill from his eyes as those who had nothing to do with Vecna fall victim to him. Will stands, frozen in place, as the tall creature approaches Mike.. the only boy he’d ever loved. The person he saw, backing away into a truck, eyes full of fear, was not the same as the distant, quiet, avoidant boy he’d seen for the past few months.
That was Mike. Kind, endlessly brave, comforting.. the heart, his heart. A 12-year-old boy with big brown eyes and a mop of black hair stands, cowering, in front of this monster, afraid. That was the Mike whom Will saw. He remembered the Mike who stayed with him when the Mind Flayer possessed him, the Mike who snuck through Will’s window when he had pneumonia to cheer him up, and the Mike who sat with Will in the basement for hours, reading comics. Will’s heart pounded 100 beats per second, making his chest hurt.
If he let that demogorgon kill Mike... he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. The thought of never being able to tell Mike how much he loved him pained Will as much as a knife stab. That’s what made him do it. Will closes his eyes slowly, letting warm breath escape his mouth.
Demogorgons circled his friends from where they were. Lucas... Robin... Mike. His Mike. The words that Robin spoke to him earlier filled his mind,
“I was looking for the answers in somebody else, but... I had all the answers.”
⋆✴︎˚｡⋆
A tiny boy sits on a swing, alone and upset, his timid little face puffing up as his eyes get blurry with tears. He was a “friendless faggot” according to his father, Lonnie - maybe that’s all he would ever be. Yet, someone approaches. A second tot of the same age perches himself on the swing next to the boy, giving him a toothy smile that lights up his curious eyes. Mike doesn’t want to seem too excited, so as not to scare off the younger boy, still gazing endearingly at him.
“Do you wanna be friends?” he asks. Will immediately nods, taking Mike by surprise. He had trouble making friends, too. Something seemed almost special about this boy, though: maybe it was his eyes, his voice, his eagerness, but Will took a liking to Mike right away. As the two swing together, laughing, Will kicks his little feet with excitement.
A new friend!
“Wanna see how high I can jump?” Mike giggles, pushing himself high into the air and leaping from his seat like a frog. This gave rise to a fit of giggles from Will, who followed on. Muddy pants and scraped knees were the last thing they were worrying about, laughing on the ground about how silly they both looked.
“I just needed to stop being so... goddamn scared.”
The months rush by as Mike and Will’s friendship grows stronger. There wasn’t a minute when the boys weren’t together, drawing or playing. Their favourite game, by far, was Dungeons and Dragons. Mike loved playing the courageous knight, risking life and death to save his wizard, yet Will preferred casting spells and warding off evil with his magic. The more time they spent side by side, the more comfortable Will felt.
One rainy day, Karen and Joyce peek into the basement to check on their boys, only to find them both fast asleep in the castle fort they built together from blankets and cushions, huddled tightly together like a pair of baby penguins. This very fort inspired the young Byers boy to make one of his own with his older brother, Jonathan.
A true castle for Will to play in! Jonathan helped him plan and build the fortress, branch by branch, until the most amazing place for a young Will was created. Jonathan spun him around like a prince, then helped him dress up as a proper wizard. With a cardboard wizard hat, one of his mother’s drapes, and a staff-like stick, he was Will the Wise! This alter-Will pranced around, little and innocent, in a world that would eventually eat him alive. So unaware and joyful, the essence of Will that he wanted back, to be again.
“And once I did that.. I was so free,”
Will once thought he had lost this carefree version of himself forever in the Upside Down, but no!- he’s right here, jumping around, casting spells on trees and bushes in the forest, the happiest a kid could ever be. Pure and glowing with delight, touched with such love for life.
“It’s like I could fly!”
⋆✴︎˚｡⋆
The creature lunges at Mike, arm pulled back and ready to slice through him like a piece of meat. Its mouth is opened wide into a flower of razor-sharp teeth, ready to chomp down on the scrawny boy. He holds an arm over his face defensively, releasing a terrified gasp as he screws up his face. He was ready to die. However, the strike wasn’t being landed. Almost as if...
Mike pants, slowly looking up. His eyes widen, and his mouth drops agape. Holy shit, it’s stuck. The demogorgon is still in its initial position, one arm outstretched towards Mike’s face, the other ready to cut. It can’t move, it’s like a statue. It seems to shake in midair, trying to free itself. Spit flies from the monster’s mouth. Was this a dream?
He lowers his hands in such shocked awe of the scene before him, feeling trepidation of a sudden movement or pounce, yet nothing. His nose is wrinkled in surprise and disgust, unsure of what to do. His eyes glide from the beast to... El? Someone stands only meters away, arm raised towards the demogorgon, eyes rolled back in their head.
No, no, it couldn't be. This was...
Will.
LEAVE... THEM.. ALONE. Will wordlessly commanded the demo as if he were a leader, a master. The creature is like a puppet, controlled by the boy who was tortured so much by its kind. He could feel the emotion rushing back into his body - the hivemind. That’s what’s causing this. The demogorgon tries to wrestle against the force holding it back, writhing and struggling like a rodent in a trap.
So much power coursed through Will that he couldn't breathe. But, he couldn't stop, he couldn't. A flood in his veins, a tsunami of might crashing over his brain, forcing the demo to obey.
Mike’s face shifts from dismay to shocked admiration. His eyebrows raised slightly, pupils dilating every second he looked at him. How was he doing that?! There were no emotions on Will’s face except pure rage. His face shook with determination, teeth clenched, brows furrowed in a hostile knit. His left arm raises, then a moment later, an abrupt tip of the head, looking upwards.
RISE. The demogorgon started to float upwards, much like how Vecna’s victims were known to; hands formed into claws and a stiff position. Mike speechlessly looks up, both in wonder and fear. Everything came to a surge, a tight ball of light, ready to explode.
Boom. The tension releases violently in his chest, cracks of bones, spins of limbs, splat of blood, skin splitting under his command. The creature was nothing but a twisted, gnarled mess as it tumbled to the ground and landed roughly on its neck. He feels so much pain in his body, yet he chooses to fight it. This pain was not his; why should he have to suffer it?
A trickle of blood drips from his nostril, and he wipes it away instinctively. His vision is blurred, with a dark red rim around his eyeline - yet, he can just make out a figure running towards him. It's Mike. Will seems to muster a small smile before his vision darkens, and he falls.
"WILL!" Mike shouts, dropping to his knees at Will's side. Joyce is there shortly after, holding his face in her hands. The older boy gazes down at Will, worry in his eyes. Will looks so damn tired. Like he hasn't slept in ages. It genuinely hurt Mike to see his best friend in so much pain.
"Come on, baby, wake up." Joyce strokes his hair desperately, hating to see her son like this. "H-how did he do that- Mike?" she continues, turning her attention to Mike, who has now moved Will's head from the ground onto his lap.
"He's a sorcerer.." Mike murmurs in wonderment, a slight smile cracking at the thought of Will having powers. A cleric, a wizard. Just like in DnD.
"A sorcerer? Honey, what do you mean-"
"His powers, they're- he can manipulate through his mind."
"Through his mind? How?"
"I don't know.. But he did it. He really did it." Mike hesitates for a second, then holds Will's hand in his gently.
Will hears a muffled voice from above him, yet he is too weak to speak. His eyes start to crack open, yet he can't open them past a squint. A moan of pain comes from his throat, and both Mike and Joyce immediately jerk their heads towards him.
"Will! Oh my God, oh baby." Joyce hugs him tightly, perhaps a little too tightly.
"M-mom", he mutters in a small voice, hardly being able to pronounce the word without coughing. Then, he starts to tear up, shaking his head slowly. "He-'s g-got th-the kids.."
"Yeah, I know: Derek, Mary, Glenn." Mike consoles, but Will doesn't stop crying.
"No, n-not just them.. the others.. the-y didn't m-make it ou-out of Hawkins," he sniffles weakly, "I coul-could've helped them if I-I'd just acted so-oner. But I was too late.. and now, he's got a-all of them. All 12," Mike squeezes his hand, "We failed.. I failed.." Will sobs, grim disappointment in his voice.
"No-" Joyce starts. A sudden sound of helicopter blades cuts through the silence like a knife through butter. All three look up to see multiple heading toward the scene. Mike's eyes drift back to Will, who's now too weak to even stay awake. He's unconscious again.
"Shit. The tunnels, radioshack!" Mike gasps, lifting Will into his arms and making sure Joyce is close behind.