Chapter Text
NOV 8TH 1987
They did it.
He’s dead.
It’s over, it's truly done and over.
They all sit in the Wheelers' living room, just being let go from government custody. Silence is over the group, drinks and food being passed around wordlessly. Everyone’s eyes are on the floor, not knowing what to say or who to look at.
Mike stands up and heads to the kitchen. Will follows him, leaving the uncomfortable thick silence in the living room. Mike’s opening the cabinet by the sink, grabbing a handful of painkillers.
“Mike, you know better.” Will scolds.
He’s been doing this since they were kids, keeping Mike in check, that is. Mike got diagnosed with chronic migraines when they were kids. Ever since then, Will has been by his side, ensuring he stays hydrated and takes the correct amount of painkillers. When the headaches got bad enough, he couldn’t read and had accidentally tried to take Benadryl instead of Tylenol one time.
Mike jumps slightly at Will's voice. He didn’t realize Will had even gotten up, let alone followed him into the kitchen or was right behind him right now. Mike turns to face Will, pill bottle and pills still clutched in his hands.
”Sorry,” He mumbles, handing the bottle and pills to Will.
”Don’t apologize, Mike.” Will pours two pills into Mike’s outstretched hand, puts the rest back in the bottle, and sets the bottle on the counter. He grabs a cup out of a cabinet by the sink, fills it with water, and hands it to Mike, who accepts it gratefully, drinking down half the glass with his meds.
“How long have you been dealing with this one?” Will asks quietly.
“Uh, I don’t know, like a week or something?” Mike says, eyes squinting a little in a way Will hadn’t noticed earlier, hands trembling around his glass.
“Jesus Mike, why don’t you go lie down? We’ll be ok, I promise. We have Nancy and Steve to boss us around.” Will gives him a weak smile, placing his hands on either of Mike's shoulders and slowly guiding him up the stairs to his room.
NOV 3TH 1990
Will opens his eyes to the horrid sound of his new alarm clock, its screen displaying 4 AM instead of the 4 PM Will thought he programmed in yesterday. The dark sky outside proves his point. He gets up to check out the widow anyway, his paranoia getting the best of him. He swipes the curtain aside with the back of his hand.
’no vines, no red lighting, to flesh-eating monsters. Sweet.’
He makes his way out of his bedroom, slowly opening and closing doors so as not to be loud and wake Mike up. Almost tripping over one of Mike’s canes instead.
Will and Mike moved in together shortly after they graduated from high school. Mike had been practically wheelchair bound the whole time. What he hadn’t told anyone during the whole ‘finishing off Vecna’ was that he was using all the energy he had to stand, let alone run. He collapsed before Will could even get him to his room that fateful day two years ago.
He was rushed to the ER, where the doctors later found out (after three weeks of a very restless yet very bed-bound Mike and a very tired Wheeler family, plus Will obviously) that he didn’t just get random chronic migraines, he had multiple sclerosis or MS, as the doctors referred to it.
“I have what? What does that even mean?” Mike's confused look spoke in more ways than his mouth did; his gaze darted around the room, his eyebrows forming a line between them, and his mind wandered, thinking about what this meant. “This won’t change anything, though, right?” His eyes were silently pleading with the doctor as they squinted, trying not to let the tears filling them spill down his face.
“Right?”
The doctor had a tired look on his face. Turning to Mike, “Look, kid, you pushed your body way too hard. The most common form of this disorder-“
“Disorder? Wait, what? What is it?”
“I guess I’ll go over this again.”
It was horrible being in the corner of the room that day, watching a massive turning point in Mike's life and not being able to do anything. It was torture.
Will had said that he was over his Tammy, ready for his Vicky, all those years ago. But he wasn’t; he still really wanted his Tammy. He still loved his Tammy. He loved Mike, and he couldn’t change that fact, no matter how hard he tried. He went to gay bars in the city now that he could, but every one of those nights either ended with grimy hands trying to push through his pants and a too-cold nose on his cheek and neck, or he was unsuccessful completely, stumbling home by himself, wallowing in self-pity.
Will shakes himself out of his thoughts when he reaches the kitchen. He grabs a glass from the cupboard, fills it with water, and gulps it down. He hops up to sit on the counter, the glass still hanging loosely in his grasp. He accidentally kicks the door of a cabinet under the sink and cringes when he hears slight shuffling coming from Mike's room.
“Will?”
He sighs, kicking himself for waking up his sleeping roommate.
“It’s just me, Mike!” He calls from the kitchen but still slides on the counter and makes his way to Mike's room. He knocks lightly before coming in to let Mike know he’s there. They started it as part of their own unspoken rules of the apartment.
“Hey Mike, sorry to wake you,” Will starts, his eyes slowly adjusting to the pitch black of Mike's room. Will had no idea how he managed to keep his room so dark. No light at all is coming from anywhere. “Was just grabbing a drink.”
Mike's form rises slightly from the bed, “Why’re you up?” He slurs, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands.
“I accidentally set my alarm for the wrong time,” Will says as he makes his way farther into the room. Another unspoken rule was that if you were tired and the other was up, they had to touch you in some way to prove they were real. Will makes his way to Mike's bed and pats it down, making sure he won’t sit on his legs before sitting on the covers, reaching for Mike's lower leg, and rubbing the lump on Mike's leg with his thumb when he finds it.
“Oh…” Mike is now propped up on the headboard, squinting tiredly at Will. “Wanna join? I’m not sleeping very well.” Mike offers, reaching to pull down the covers for Will.
“Sure, Mike, just scoot over a bit, you're taking up the whole bed.” Will bats at Mike playfully as he crawls up the bed to Mike's side and slides under the covers.
Mile grumbles but does as he says, struggling a little. Will can already tell this is definitely going to be a cane and leg brace day for Mike, which also means minimal going out. (Will silently rejoices at the thought of a day being to just lounge around and watch movies with Mike all day) But for now, Will nestles down in Mike's bed, pushing his forehead to Mike's back and lets sleep embrace him