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Will's heart was beating out of his chest. He'd been through so much: a supernatural kidnapping, possession, military arrest; but somehow this was going to give him a heart attack.
The worst thing was: part of him knew that there was nothing to be afraid of. There was no real threat. This was his mom. His mom who had been there his whole life. His mom, who had seen how different he was from other boys since he was so little. She probably already suspected the truth, if the fights she'd had with his father when he was young were any proof.
"So what if he's sensitive?!" she'd defended, "Is that really so bad? Yes, he's a little different from other boys his age, but he's my son!"
He remembered the fear it had put into his little head.
Different? he’d thought, How? Why are you mad? Are you mad at me?
Now, she had this sickening look on her face. He couldn't really place what it was supposed to mean. When he'd told her that they needed to talk, they'd sat in the back lobby of the WSQK, away from the bustle of their team’s final preparations, and her pitiful (was that the right word? Maybe wary?) face was boring into his soul. It was like she was trying to find out the answers for herself. Maybe, at least, that way, he wouldn't have to say anything out loud.
It wasn't that he was necessarily so ashamed anymore. Robin had helped him to start seeing his... differences as a part of himself; nothing more shameful than the color of his eyes or his love for art. But that acceptance was harder to wrap his head around than he'd originally thought. That moment when he'd taken control of the demogorgons had been fueled by spite; the desire to prove Vecna wrong. He wasn't weak.
So what if he's sensitive?
But now the thought of even saying that little three-letter word made him sick to his stomach.
"Will? Sweetheart?" Her voice cut through the mess of thoughts running through his head, "Is everything okay?"
He opened his mouth to say
"Yeah, mom, I'm fine,"
but he stopped himself. Because, no, he wasn't fine. He was scared.
"I'm... Uhm--" he tried to say something, anything, but his tongue felt too big in his mouth and his lungs felt too small.
Say something, dumbass! You know how she gets! She's probably freaking out more than you, right now!! His mind screamed.
"I-- well, I--" he hiccuped. He was breathing too much, but the oxygen felt like it was floating away from him. Maybe all of the atoms in his vicinity had decided to fly out of the room, leaving him in an airless vacuum to suffocate on his confession.
"Will? Son!" Joyce lightly scolded, "Look at me! It's okay!" He felt her hands make their way to his shoulders, pulling his brain back into his body. His eyes focused on hers, and he realized that he wasn't even focusing on her in the first place.
"I'm right here, baby, it's okay," she comforted, "No one is going to hurt you, alright? I've got you."
Oh. Oh. Maybe she didn't know. Did she think this was about Vecna? Well, in a way, it was. If he was being honest, he'd only told her that he wanted to talk about this in the first place because a part of him wanted his own mother to know his secret in case anything happened on their mission. He'd kept this secret his whole life, even before he knew how different it had made him. He was prepared to take it to the grave. But, now, he didn't have to. Robin had told him that he could tell people. And (even better) that it might bring them closer instead of pushing them apart.
He took a few breaths to bring his heart back to a (somewhat) normal pace.
"No, mom." He corrected.
"No-- what?" She looked at him a little closer. He must sound clinically insane right now.
"No-- I mean... This, uh-- this isn't about Vecna. Or the upside-down." He hesitated. She only sat in silence with that sickening look, again.
"I, uh, want to tell you something just in case something happens," he looked at her, expecting her to interrupt and scold him for even thinking about any of them getting hurt, but by some miracle and what must have been Herculean self-restraint, she took a breath and stayed quiet. He continued,
"Um... I wanted to tell you something... About me."
He tried to keep his gaze on her, but his eyes kept darting around the room behind her. She moved into his line of sight to catch it again,
"Sweetheart... You can tell me anything."
Fuck. Maybe she did know.
He breathed again.
"You-- uhm-- you know that I'm-- well, I'm different. I mean, I don't act like Jonathan or Lucas or..." he drifted off, leaving his name unspoken. God, Robin had made it sound so easy to get over her crush on Tammy. One look at that tape and -Boom!- feelings begone! But, it sure as hell wasn't proving to be easy for Will. If anything, he'd think they've only really gotten stronger. Mike had been so excited when Will had saved him. He'd looked at Will like... Like he was something, no, someone incredible. And then he'd hugged Will and given him that stupid signature I-told-you-so Mike look, and Will's stomach made these little ticklish butterflies.
How was he supposed to forget about Tammy by using a tape that Tammy was a part of? What if he didn't want to forget Tammy? What if Tammy was his best friend?
"The point is," he forced himself to think back on track, "I'm not like other... guys." Then, he panicked, and amended his statement, because just because he liked... other things didn't mean he wanted her to think of him as different. "I mean, I'm not different-different, y'know, I'm still like a normal person. I mean I still love and... hate, and I cry more than I'd like to admit, and I love stupid sci-fi movies, and listen to edgy music, and eat grossly unhealthy food, and-- and--"
"--Will." Joyce interrupted, "Believe me," she pleaded, "I know more than anyone in the world that you are not some... crazy, strange, zombie-boy. You're my son. One of my boys. And I'm so proud of you."
He choked back the lump building in his throat. It was going to be okay. She was his number-one defender. He was okay...
"Sorry... Uhm... What I mean to say is... I'm not like other guys because..."
Here it was. He was going to say it and everything was going to be okay and he was going to hug his mom and then go kick Vecna's slimy, disgusting ass.
"I'm not like other guys because I... don't... like girls." He looked at her, trying to gauge her reaction. He expected a look. Something. Instead she just looked at him like he had more to say. What more could he say?
"I mean, like, obviously I like girls, like I like El and I like Max, and I like Robin, but I don't like them, you know? Like, I don't like girls how other guys like girls, I mean girls are great and, y'know, I've tried to see what all of the rage is about because girls are pretty and all, but I just can't feel things for girls. Not the way Jonathan can, or Hop can, or, or, or... What I'm saying is that I don't like girls because... Because I like guys. I'm gay, mom."
Holy shit. That was it. He'd said it. He even said the word. And she was looking at him with this smile, like she was so proud, and--
--CLICK-CLANK!!–
Will whipped his head around to the sight of a walkie-talkie bouncing off of the floor. He peeled his eyes up from the tool to see the unsteady feet of the person who'd dropped it in their surprise.
No. Nonononono, NO! This couldn't be happening. Not him! Not now!
His gaze forced itself upwards to meet a face. A familiar, shocked (hurt?) face. Mike stared at him for one second, then two, and Will couldn't breathe.
"Mike--" maybe he could explain. Maybe he could make Mike understand. He didn't have to be disgusted! Will was normal! He was--
Mike glanced back down the hall, then back at Will. He was breathing a little harder now. Was he that mad? Was he afraid? He turned back towards the hallway and began walking back down it. Faster than before, whatever message he had come to tell them, forgotten.
"Wait!" Will stood up fast, pushing his chair back. He rushed over to the hallway, where Mike was rounding a corner. "Shit! Mike!!" He called, before running after him.
He heard his mom trying to call for him, but he couldn't wrap his head around even trying to talk to her before he got a word in with Mike. He needed to know what was going through his head. Was he upset that Will hadn't told him? Was he upset that Will was gay? Was he afraid that being friends with him would make him gay? Was he afraid Will was in love with him? He caught a glance of Mike reaching the end of a hallway and slamming himself into a door leading to a room that he was pretty sure was the women's restroom when he stopped.
What if Mike was afraid that Will had feelings for him? He could try to lie... Tell him that just because he was gay didn't mean that he liked every guy he'd come across, but would that be right? Plus, Will was never exactly subtle when it came to his feelings. At least, before he, himself, realized his feelings. When they were younger, he didn't have to care about hiding anything, because what was wrong with loving your best friend? What was wrong with wanting to spend all your time with him? With wanting him to smile at you and hear him make you laugh?
What was wrong was that Mike didn't feel the same. And that made Will kind of gross, didn't it? Will had failed to stop himself from feeling this way, even though he knew Mike didn't feel the same. He couldn't feel the same. Because Will was a boy. Mike had a girlfriend, who was amazing and perfect. She was, in part, like a sister to Will and it was easy to see why Mike loved her. El was beautiful and funny and strong and determined. And Will was a boy.
Maybe he would just tell Mike what he was telling himself. That he was getting over his stupid crush, and that it wasn't a big deal. He'd felt this way for the better part of ten years, why should it change anything now, right?
He took what felt like the hundredth deep breath today, and started walking toward the bathroom. He faced the faded blue door and flattened his hand onto the cold metal.
He could do this.
He pushed the door open and looked into the grimy little room. The three little stalls on the left side of the room took up most of the space. The mirror above the sinks on the right reflected no signs of the boy he was looking for. That probably had to do with the fact that there was heavy breathing coming from the furthest stall from the door. It sounded like hyperventilating.
Will walked up to the stall.
"...Mike? Are you alright?"
He heard a sharp brush of fabric in what he interpreted as a jump and a gasp before the breathing got harder, more shallow.
"Mike? You need to breathe. Can you hear me? You're hyperventilating!" he began to feel panic building in his chest. No. Keep it together. For Mike.
Should he try to get into the stall? Mike sounded like he was going to pass out if he didn't breathe soon. Will had a feeling that Mike didn't want to see him right now, either.
He knelt down facing the door to the stall, at what he assumed was Mike's level. He didn't make a move to look under the door. Not yet, at least.
"Mike, I know you're freaking out right now but if you don't breathe, you're going to pass out and I don't think either of us want that to happen, okay? Let's breathe really quick, and then we can talk and you can tell me whatever it is that's bothering you, alright?!" Of course, Will knew what was bothering him, but he was surrendering the ball to Mike's court in hopes that it would calm him down.
"Okay, I know you feel like you can't breathe, but we've gotta take some deep breaths. Follow my lead okay?" He relayed a breathing exercise that Jonathan had shown him once after he'd had a nightmare when he was thirteen. Back when his feelings about everyone and everything were so strong, so violent. "Okay, in for 4, hold for 7, out for 8, alright? In, 2, 3, 4, Hold, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, Out, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8..."
At first, it seemed like Mike was ignoring him. Maybe he'd rather pass out than listen to Will right now. But then, on the second round of counting, he heard Mike's broken gasps and sobs start to follow Will's pattern. Will settled on the floor in front of the stall and counted through the door until Mike's breathing settled into a normal rhythm, only interrupted by a few sniffs. He paused his counting, and Mike's breathing stayed even. He sat fully on the floor now, letting his head fall against the door, and releasing a breath that he had been holding since the radio hit the floor in what felt like hours before. He let the sound of his and Mike's breathing fill the room. Then, a small, broken whisper cut through the silence,
"I'm sorry..."
What?
"What? What are you sorry for?" Will asked, gently. He was racking his brain trying to think of what Mike might say when he answered in another whisper.
"I'm sorry for..." a sniff, "I dunno... ruining your moment with your mom."
Oh.
"It's fine, Mike, I'm just glad you didn't pass out," then, to lighten the air of awkwardness that started to fill the room, "it would've sucked dragging you out of here unconscious."
Mike didn't respond to that. Instead, a click sounded above Will's head, and the door opened slowly, revealing Mike's form retreating to the opposite side of the stall and sinking back down to the floor with his back against the wall. His eyes were red and puffy. His skin was pale. Will felt a little sick. Especially because Mike hadn't even looked at him since he overheard Will's confession.
Will stayed put for now, watching him, before Mike glanced up at him, meeting his eyes, then dropping his gaze to the tiled floor. His arms wrapped around his knees, and for the first time in years, he looked so small. It made Will want to cry and hug him and yell at him at the same time. Why did he feel small? Will was the one who had just accidentally outed himself to the only boy he's ever loved, and Mike was having a panic attack? That couldn't be fair. He'd hurt Will so many times without even knowing. Yet Will sat here hoping Mike would never have to cry again.
Mike kept looking at the floor as he lamented, "That's the first time I've cried since... this all started. With my family. Holly. Mom... Dad..."
Then it all became so obvious. Will felt stupid. Of course Mike was freaking out. This week had been the most emotionally devastating of his life. That demogorgon had broken into his house, critically injured his parents, and kidnapped his little sister. At least Will had heard that Karen had woken up, but she was still weak. Ted wasn't as lucky, so far.
On top of it all, Mike had just overheard his friend confess something so heavy that it must have been the straw that had broken the camel's back. Now, Will felt a little selfish.
He didn't know what to say. "It's okay to cry," he tried comforting, "This week has been hard for you. You're handling this all really well; better than most could have."
Mike shrugged, "Yeah, well... It doesn't really feel like I'm handling it, so..."
"Are you kidding?" Will asked, incredulous, "You're still here! You and your sister have to be some of the strongest people I know! If crying every now and again is the worst that you do, then so be it! I've been through less and reacted much worse!”
“I don't know about that.” Mike argued, “You got taken. …same as Holly.”
“You’re right,” Will started, “but if Holly’s anything like you and Nance, then she’ll come back even better than I did. She's strong, Mike. Vecna made a mistake taking her, and if he thinks he's getting away with it, he doesn't know who he's up against.”
Mike kept his eyes on the floor, but gave a small smile. It was only for a moment, but it made Will feel like maybe he was doing something right.
"You can come in..." he offered in a small, scratchy voice.
Will paused for a moment, a little shocked, before asking,
"What?"
"You... said we should talk... right?" Will had been so caught up in trying to comfort his friend that he had forgotten about his whole confession for a minute. As much as Will had wanted to explain to Mike earlier, he didn't actually think Mike would let him. Part of him thought that maybe they would just fight. Maybe that would be easier.
"Oh... Yeah. We can-- uh-- yeah, we can talk." Will sputtered. He rose from his spot in the doorway and moved into the stall against the wall, directly opposite from Mike. Here, only a few feet from him, Will could see how Mike's eyelashes stuck together from where his tears had spilled earlier. Will realized that Mike was looking at him, too. Probably expecting him to finally explain the fact that his best friend of ten years was actually a queer.
"Listen, Mike," he started, "I'm, uh, sorry I didn't tell you earlier... And I don't know how much you heard before but I need you to know that this-- it doesn't change anything about me, y'know? I'm still," (your best friend?), "I'm still me. Just Will."
Mike's eyes wandered around his face, like he was trying to solve a puzzle, but couldn't find the right piece. Then, he looked to the wall behind him, gave a little nod, and dropped his gaze back to the floor.
Well that wasn't going to work. "Listen... I don't want this to be another thing on your plate, y'know? I don't want it to be something that bothers you, so, do you have, like, questions you need to ask, or something? I dunno, what would make this easier to swallow?" Will tried to say it with a small smile, but he was pretty sure it came out looking like a grimace.
Mike sat for a moment, face blank, "...how did you figure it out?" he finally asked. That was unexpected.
"Uhm." Mostly because I realized I was in love with you. "I-- uh, guess it's always kinda been there. Like how it is for you and girls." That was apparently not the right answer, because Mike made this face like Will had just poured salt in an open wound.
Will rushed to fix it. “Well, I didn't always know that it made me… y'know…” he really didn't want to say it. Not again. It still made him sick. But, Mike was looking at him like he didn't understand. How could he?
“I guess I just thought that maybe it was that way for everyone, y'know?" He supplied. “I didn't realize how different I was until I was maybe thirteen.” When we started fighting. When I lost your attention.
Mike nodded again, and asked, “... so you've just been… keeping this? To yourself for three years?”
“Well it isn't exactly a fun secret, Mike.” Just look at how you reacted.
“No, I'm not saying that. It's just– do you think you can't… trust… us, or..?”
And that wasn't fair. Of course Will trusted him. He trusted him and Jon and El and Dustin and Lucas and Max… They'd saved him, multiple times, and he'd saved them, too. He loved this team with all his heart. He knew, logically, that he could tell them his secret; just like he knew he could tell his mom. That didn't mean it didn't scare him any less, though. It was like doubt had latched onto his brain and wouldn't let him go. A constant question of ‘What if?’ seeped into his thoughts. What if it changes things? What if this is the one thing they won't be able to ignore?
He let out a breath, “Of course I trust you guys. You're my best friends. …It's just… not that easy…”
Mike sighed. And that made Will a little upset. Why couldn't he just understand?
“Yeah, I get that, I guess…” Thank you.
“Thanks…” Will shared, “... Can I ask you something?”
Mike shifted a little, obviously surprised at the question. Then he replied, “Sure.”
“Why,” Will started, “did you… run away like that?” If Mike wanted to question Will’s trust, he could question Mike's discomfort. At least, a little.
Mike made a face, again, like Will pinched him. They sat for a moment, while Mike formulated an answer in his head. Will felt awkward. He’d felt this way around Mike more often in the past years. He missed feeling normal with him.
“... I really am sorry,” he said quietly.
Will met his eyes, then replied, “It's okay, I’m just… worried, I guess.”
Mike took a breath, “No. It's not okay. You were already scared to tell your mom and then I freaked out..."
Part of Will wanted to tell him that it really wasn't a big deal. But Mike was right. If Will hadn't been so focused on helping Mike through a panic attack, he probably would've broken down, himself.
“I just,” Mike blurted, “I– it's a big thing, right? I know, I shouldn't have run, that was shitty of me…”
“I mean… yeah… it scared me.” Will replied.
“I wasn't really thinking. I just wanted to get away from everything to think; and then I got here and everything hit me. Like, my family is torn apart and my house is destroyed and things are so weird between me and El and then you said that and I–” he stopped his rambling, “I really am sorry, Will.”
And, yeah, it was shitty of Mike to scare him like that, but when he sat here, on the bathroom floor, crying, and looking at Will like this– So small and so sorry– it was impossible for Will to stay upset. At least, for now.
“It's okay, Mike, I forgive you.” Will kicked Mike's foot with his own to show that he had no hard feelings. Then, something hit him.
“Wait, what’s wrong with El? Is she alright?” Honestly, since they'd moved back to Hawkins (forcibly) from California, Will and El didn't get to see each other nearly as often as they used to. They didn't live in the same house anymore and she was so focused on training and finding Vecna that he felt like he never saw her anymore. He knew that her being stuck in the Upside-down with Hopper for those few days had left everyone on edge, but she was okay, now. She had her sister back, and yeah, she kind of gave Will the creeps, but El loved her and she was probably super traumatized, so it was okay.
“No, El's fine... It's just so different from how it used to be.” He finally responded.
What did that mean?
“What do you mean?”
Mike sat there for a moment, quiet, then he let out a breath. “El and I are– we're not together anymore– But you can't say anything because we haven't told anyone and we don't really know how. I don't know how to do this, Will. She was my first girlfriend. She was my only girlfriend. And we're still friends, but now it's so awkward, and I miss her, but not like that. I just… miss being close, I guess.”
Will didn't know what to say. He didn't know what he'd expected, but it wasn't that. El and Mike broken up? The couple that had been together on-and-off for four years? After all of the love confessions and kissing and shared trauma? After Will's support despite his own feelings?
“You’re– I'm sorry, what? I don't understand. I thought you loved her?” He spit out.
Mike ran his hands over his face, “No, I do… love her. And she loves me, too. But I think we just… had it wrong. I mean, we started dating super young and we were so excited and it didn't feel… like, not-right, so we just kind of stayed together I think. It was familiar. Comforting, I guess.”
“So what made you break-up?” Will asked, still reeling.
“She wanted to focus on the mission. And herself. She didn't want to waste energy on… pretending. We talked about it a lot. I felt the same. Eventually.” He explained.
“So it's just… done?”
“Yeah,” Mike said, with a tone of sureness that surprised Will even more. “Like I said, we still love each other. Just not the same. We're still friends and everything. She's still in our party.”
Will mentally shook himself back to earth, “Of course.” Then added with a smile, “We’d kick you out before even thinking about kicking her, anyway.”
“Hey!” Mike chuckled, “I started this damn party!”
“I don't know,” Will teased, “it was sort of a joint effort…”
“Bull shit, Byers. There would be no party without me! I asked you to be friends!”
“And I agreed!”
They both laughed and bantered on the shitty bathroom floor for a few more minutes before returning to their group. Will had missed this. Being able to laugh with Mike without thinking about how weird he was for having feelings for him… It was freeing. It was almost nostalgic.
“So,” Mike had said, before they left the bathroom, “We're… okay? Like, we're still friends?”
That surprised Will. You're asking me if we're still friends? He looked Mike in the eyes. “Of course we are,” he smiled.
And Mike smiled back.
“We'll always be friends,” Will continued, “We've been through too much together to stop now.”
Mike chuckled. “Yeah. You can't get rid of me, now.” He bumped into Will's shoulder with his own.
Like I'd ever want to. Will thought to himself. I don't think I ever could.