Chapter Text
November 6th 1983
Will Byers climbs onto his bike, grabs the handlebars, and propping his feet on the pedals, is ready to leave.
“It was a seven” he mutters.
“Huh?” Mike responds looking over at him.
“The roll, it was a seven. The demogorgon, it got me,” he admits as he turns to leave.
As he pedals off he says “See you Tomorrow”.
The moon rises, the only sound heard is the rustling of rocks on the uneven path and the chirp of crickets while Will rides to his house.
Suddenly a shadow appears causing Will to turn sharply leading him down a hill, throwing him off his bike, the rocks scratching and digging into his skin leaving red marks on him.
As the figure approaches with a low growl Will dashes away leaving the light of his bike to dim.
When he makes it to his house he sprints in, locking the door as his dog barks at the intrusion.
Following this he calls out for anyone who could be home but is followed by silence.
Upon realising this he looks through the window to find it still following him, this causes him to leap to the telephone which promptly rings and rings being followed by a sharp static and screeching.
In turn, Will looks to the door where the monster growls, low and menacing, looming over the door as the lock clicks open seemingly on its own.
This causes Will to dash outside to his cabin where he loads a shotgun quickly and messily, propping it over his shoulder aimed at the door.
But it's already behind him, growling as the light fades and a screech is heard.
8:00 am 7th November 1983
Jonathan is cooking breakfast, a simple egg and bacon to start his day while Joyce calls out to ask if he’s seen her keys.
After a moment, “Where’s Will” she asks.
“I didn’t wake him up yet, he’s probably still sleeping” he replies with annoyance lacing his voice.
In response, Joyce runs to Will's room rambling about something Jonathan decides to ignore.
But as she leans through the door telling Will to get up.
She finds he isn’t there.
Joyce asks again if he knows where Will is but he says he was working late and didn’t see him.
In response, he suggests he might’ve stayed over at Mike's.
As Jonathan sighs she sprints to the phone and it rings, and rings, and rings.
Until Karen answers and Joyce asks if Will was there and she confirms he left at 8, leading Joyce to hang up on her.
As Mike, Dustin and Lucas arrive at school, promptly causing Mike to snap his head around, wondering where Will was, deciding he probably stayed home.
“Step right up ladies and gentlemen” they hear behind them as they walk
It’s Troy, another classmate of theirs and their bully.
As he walks over he calls them freaks and hits them on the shoulder each mocking them as he barges past them.
As Hopper, the chief of police clocks into work at the police station, bumping shoulders with a colleague, he is clearly hungover and he learns Joyce called to report Will missing and when he tries to brush it off he realises he can’t, as Joyce is in his office waiting for him.
“its been an hour” she yells at him
“I know and I apologise” he says apathetically
As she continues to shout at him for not taking this seriously.
“Kids at school make fun of him” she says
“he’s a sensitive kid, Lonnie (his abusive father) used to say he was queer, he used to call him a fag” she whispers
“Is he?” he replies
“he’s missing is what he is!” she responds in anger
After this Hopper insists he’s messing about or has run away.
“99 out of a hundred times a kid goes missing they’re with a parent” he says bluntly.
“Joyce this is Hawkins, okay? The worst thing I’ve seen in my four years working here was when an owl attacked someone’s head”
Before she leaves to call lonnie she reiterates that he needs to find Will.
A light tapping is heard in the back of Mike’s head, mr Clarke is writing something although he doesn’t care much for it as he’s busy watching Will's seat, as Dustin drags him to Mr Clarke’s office after class to check out the radio Mr Clarke bought where they get pulled out to talk to Hopper.
After Mike tells Hopper the road Will takes home he tries to insist on helping but is shut down immediately.
Joyce is in the woods, she is with Will in Castle Byers (the home he made with Jonathan in the woods), she’s outside reciting a password, she’s inside slumping down as she reaches a hand out to tease Will.
But she’s not.
Hopper finally makes it on the road Will goes down, as he turns to look down a hill, he spots a small bike, the dim light flickering.
Ringing is heard as Joyce holds the phone to her ear, ring, ring, ring and it connects.
As Joyce panics, stumbling over her words she realises she is talking to lonnies new girlfriend who hangs up upon learning who Joyce is.
Upon ringing again, the cops show up to tell them about the bike, and upon doing so they ask to look around as they think Will came home.
Hopper takes the initiative to look in the cabin which is now dimly lit by a singular bulb.
As he wanders he sees the spilt ammo and what appears to be saliva and broken wood he then hears himself being called and walks out.
The sound of discussion is heard as Mike argues that it’s unfair that he can’t look for Will too and his mother shuts him down immediately.
Nancy asks to go to Barb's house, but she gets told no, not until Will is found, causing her to leave abruptly.
And Mike lashes out at his father storming up to his room.
Back in the woods where Mr Clarke and Hopper are talking.
“he’s a good student” Mr Clarke says.
“What?” Hopper mutters.
“Will, he’s smart, he’s good at science, real passion for the stuff”.
Mike is wrapped in a blanket, presumably in his room, talking to Lucas on his walkie-talkie saying that even though that night he could’ve protected himself, he still cast a fireball, inevitably sacrificing himself for his party.
As Mike is met with a wave of silence, crackling is heard from the other side.
Lucas responds with “meet me in ten”.
The lights dim and shut off to only a lone street light illuminating them as they ride down the road Will goes down.
“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Dustin stutters as his breath hitches.
Mike doesn’t wait to hear what he says and walks into the woods.
A few hours have passed since they arrived.
“Will!” Mike screams
“I think we should turn bcak” Dustin says as they are coated in rain.
Mike immediately denies this, insisting they should keep looking but Lucas agrees.
“It's getting dark already and if we stay any longer we’ll drown in this weather” Lucas says practically dragging Mike away.
“but” Mike whispers, his voice barely audible, eyes lingering on the shape of a tree behind them as he leans away from Lucas’s pull but follows nonetheless as he knows they’re right.
He reluctantly follows and rides back to his house but he continues to listen and watch out in hopes that he stumbles across Will on the way.
He doesn’t.
November 8th 1983
Jonathan is now taking care of Joyce, as Jonathan would describe it, she’s completely shut down after Will vanishes, he approaches, handing her a plate of food while she stares intently at the missing posters.
She starts panicking, overthinking what they need to do but Jonathan calms her down before she can make any assumptions.
The uncanny silence of the Wheelers, with Mike eating his food slowly and absent-mindedly while Nancy sneaks glances at him, presumably worried.
And the table is quiet.
Not peaceful.
Quiet.
Upon finishing his breakfast he steadily but shakily walks up to his room clutching something in his pocket.
When he reaches his room he grabs a binder of sorts and as he opens it he examines the drawings inside.
Will’s drawings, ones Mike had kept after Will had drawn them.
After a few minutes of flicking pages, he notices something.
In all of the drawings Mike is always shown protecting or helping Will, he laughs seeing this and grabs his radio to play a song.
Should I stay or should I go?
Will liked that song.
He backs up towards the wall holding the radio up to his chest as he feels his eyes start to burn and his arms begin to tremble.
He bites his lip in response to stop himself from crying.
Boys don't cry.
Will looked nice when he cried.
Will looked nice when he did anything.
When he cried, when he laughed, smiled, hurt himself, got a haircut, or just had a bath.
…
Will was always just nice.
Right?
The song ended, changing to another he didn’t know the lyrics to.
After this, it cuts to Dustin and Lucas in class, and they are silent.
They knew how much it had affected Mike but it was the right call making him go home.
But he wasn’t in class yet.
Mike was never late.
Mike wasn’t at school, he was wandering around his house, he started in the living room and ended in the kitchen where he mindlessly opened cabinets to distract himself.
As he opens the fridge and sees a half-eaten pepperoni pizza, on any other day he’d have warmed it up and eaten it.
But he wasn’t hungry.
He went back upstairs to his room and when he walked in, his eyes locked onto an unfinished bag of Reese’s pieces, he didn’t particularly like them but Will did and suddenly they looked pretty good.
As he indulged in the bag being careful not to eat them all just in case Will wanted some when he was back.
He grabbed his walkie-talkie and changed the channel to one that Will and Will used to talk on.
“Will, are you there?” he said.
After a few seconds, he said “over” and clicked off the radio half expecting Will's voice to cut through the silence but all he could do was wait and pity himself over losing the one person he cared about.
The one person who made him whole.
Jonathan is driving listening to music.
Should I stay or should I go?
And we get pulled into a flashback of a time he and Will were listening to this same song and he gave Will his tape of songs, they’re soon interrupted by Joyce screaming at Lonnie.
Jonathan hastily closes the door and the music lightens growing quieter.
“he’s not coming, is he” Will asks.
“Do you even like baseball?” Jonathan retorts.
“no but… i don’t know, I think I should” he replies.
“You shouldn’t just like things because someone tells you to, alright?” he says as the music grows again and he speeds off.
As Jonathan approaches the house lonnies gf opens the door he barges in and starts looking through the rooms eventually being stopped by Lonnie.
Mike is now in his roompassed out on his bed, eyes red and puffy clinging to his pillow.
Then he gets bolted awake by a knock at his door, as Dustin and Lucas walk in he smothers his face with the pillow.
“Mike?” Dustin breathes out.
Mike wipes his nose and eyes and replies with a quiet “mhm”.
Which doesn’t make Dustin feel any better.
Lucas walks up to Mike and yanks the pillow away from his face causing him to fall back in surprise.
“jesus dude you look like crap” Lucas says empathetically.
Dustin nods in agreement.
Mike in response to this holds his hands to his face.
“What do you want” he manages in a low, broken voice.
“jesus” Dustin mutters as he speaks.
“We just wanted to check up on you because we know how hard this hit you” Lucas finally blurts out, he was very good at emotions.
“And Mr Clark handed out a test today and asked us to make sure you knew” he says.
“dude” Dustin nudges him.
“Sorry, guess it’s not really the time for science, huh” Lucas says.
An awkward silence follows as the boys stand there without a clue as to what to say.
Dustin decides to lighten the mood and suggests they watch TV to pass the time since it was clear they had nothing to do.
Mike stands up and grabs his remote, throwing it to Lucas.
Mike then walks to his closet to find something comfortable to wear and out of the corner of his eye, he sees a shirt that isn’t his.
He grabs it and brings it to his face, he knows that smell anywhere.
It was Wills, it was probably something he left when he’d come over for a sleepover at some point.
He grabbed it and pulled it over his chest, it was a bit tighter than his clothes but that made sense, will was way smaller than mike, it probably helped that Will liked baggy clothes though,
After this, he grabs a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms from a cupboard beside him.
After he was done getting dressed he walked back over to Dustin and Lucas who had set up a bunch of pillows and blankets coating Mike's bed and floor.
Mike didn’t even know he owned this many blankets, but he thinks it only makes sense considering Will hates the cold.
…
Will hated the cold.
He propped his body up against a few pillows on the side of his bed surrounding him, he wrapped his arms around his legs and breathed into the shirt, he felt like what he was doing was wrong but who was going to stop him?
Before long Mike fell asleep after laughing about some corny joke Dustin made, the other two continuing to talk until dinner, in which they woke Mike up.
Meanwhile, Jonathan was looking down at Lonnie's car trunk, and as he opened it his breath hitches.
Nothing.
He sighs in relief as he turns to see Lonnie walking back over to him and attempts to convince Jonathan to come to the city.
In response, he walks away looking disgusted.
The Wheelers' table, on which Mike, Dustin, Lucas and Mike's parents are eating with Nancy following suit.
The table is quiet but it’s warm, comforting almost, they finish their food and Mike heads upstairs as Dustin and Lucas prepare to leave.
It wasn’t dark yet, Mike made sure they left by 7, much to their dismay as they wanted to stay till 9, that being the latest they were allowed out.
Later the next day Mike, Lucas and Dustin are in Mike's basement, he seems more talkative than yesterday but his eyes are still red and puffy, so they don’t push him to talk more.
As they talk about random things Mikes eyes up a framed image of the four of them and Nancy, the time she dressed up their elder tree campaign.
Will had put on a ridiculous purple wizard outfit.
He’d looked great in it.
“What…?” Mike muttered to himself, confused as to what he’d just thought.
“You good?” Dustin asked noticing his gaze.
“… yeah I guess so” he replies.
Will had looked amazing in it, he’d never thought too hard about how Will looked but he could still tell you every single detail on Will's body.
Mike hadn’t noticed how much he’d looked at Will.
He wonders if Will had ever noticed it.
Joyce was now sitting by her phone on the wall, as if she were expecting something or someone.
As the phone rang, she sprang awake pulling it to her ear.
“Hello?” She says sharply.
But nothing, just static that followed, she put the phone back down after making sure one last time no one was there.
Just another prank call.
And as Jonathan pulls up in the drive, he walks in disappointment coating his face.
“Nothing” he finally mutters.
Joyce stands there tears forming in her eyes as Jonathan pulls her in for a hug.
“It’ll be okay, we’re gonna find him, alright?” He says.
“Okay”, she replies half-heartedly, nodding in agreement.
Mike is still in the basement even though his friends have left.
He grabs his walkie-talkie.
“Will? You there” he says breathing into the microphone.
He doesn’t bother saying over and just holds it to his chest in case Will replies.
He then looks back at the picture of Will.
Why had he looked at Will like that?
He’d always known Will looked better than most but was that really true?
After a second of contemplation, he grips the WT (walkie-talkie) harder.
Will was just nice, that’s it, they were best friends, it was only natural that he thought Will looked nice.
Mike realises he can’t afford to give up on Will that easily, after school tomorrow he’d go look for him again.
*static*
Mike looks down, eyes bulging at the WT.
“Mike?” He hears in a low voice, high-pitched and quiet.
Mike could differentiate that voice from a million.
“Will!?” Mike called out, desperate, his voice cracking.
“Will where are you?” He says growing panicked.
“I- I don’t know” Will stammers.
“Mike, I’m scared, it’s dark and I- I don’t know where I am or where y-you or anyone is” he rushes out, an evident strain in his voice.
“Will just describe what the things around you look like, I’ll find you!” He yells voice breaking harder and eyes glazing over with tears.
“I-I don’t think I have time for that..” he replies
“What?” Mike responds.
“It’s here” Will says bluntly.
“What's there!?” Mike says again.
“Hey Mike, wait for me okay? For when I come back.”
“What? No just tell me where you are and I’ll come get you!”
“Please don’t forget me”
“Will!” He shouts as the line cracks.
*static*
And then silence.
He clicks the radio calling out one last time, tears streaming down his face.
Will was alive.
But Mike wasn’t allowed to see him.
Mike stayed there clinging to the WT for the next hour sobbing until he eventually passed out, exhausted from the interaction still calling out Will's name in his sleep.
The next day Mike finally came to school and was now in math class staring out the window.
He didn’t know what to do, Will said to wait for him but he said he’d look for Will today.
Looking down at his paper he sees the question.
7 x 7 = ?
Right then and there he knew what he had to do, just like Will had sacrificed himself for them on the night he vanished so would Mike.
“Mike?” He hears, looking over at Dustin to his right.
“You good, are you stuck on question 4?”
“Nah I think I’ve got it” he reassures him.
Mike looks back down tapping his pencil on his paper we forward an hour into the future after Mike has left school.
“Mike you wanna ride home with us today?” Lucas asks.
“Not today” he says emphatically.
“I’ve got a club.” He says walking away from Lucas.
As Mike walks out of the building he grabs his bike, props his hands on the bar and starts pedalling down Mirkwood Road.
He searches again for around an hour before leaving not catching the slightest sign of life in the forest.
As he reaches his house, he puts his bike away and strolls to his basement, ignoring his father’s obnoxious laughing.
Picking up his WT as he did the previous night he clicks it on and speaks.
“Will, you there bud?” He’s calm, he hasn’t felt this way in a while.
After he’d gone to search for Will, he’d thought about it, he trusted Will, and Will wouldn’t lie to him.
He’d be back one day.
And when that day came, Mike would be there to welcome Will into his Arms.
After the radio stays silent for just long enough, he continues.
“Today in school Dustin tried to make a math joke and it landed horribly.”
“After that, I went to the woods to look for you again, even if you don’t want me to, it won’t stop me” he says with an involuntary shudder escaping his lips.
“I’m at home right now, I- I don’t really know what to do without you here, I can’t really play dnd, it wouldn’t be the same and- and I just, I don’t know, I guess I just miss you, things have felt weird since you’ve been gone, like when you left, you took a piece of me with you.”
“It might sound weird to say but- well Hawkins just hasn’t felt the same without you here.”
…
Mike realises how corny what he said just sounded and decides to just do something else.
“Well uh- I’m gonna go but if you can, say something, I want to know you’re okay.”
“… over” he says finally, clicking the WT once more leaving a residual sound lingering in his ear.
He pushes the WT farther into his palm, which was going to leave a mark if he continued digging.
But he didn’t care.
The physical pain distracted him from the pain he couldn’t fix.
Mike after a second of sitting there idly springs to his feet, walking towards the place he left their dnd characters.
Grabbing the paladin wielding a shield and sword, he looked over to the one sitting next to it, a cleric wielding a wooden staff, as he grabbed them in one hand.
He clenched his hand, indenting the pattern into his hand.
After a second he walks upstairs to where his mother was cooking dinner.
As the next day rolls around, it’s been a week since it happened.
Mike does as he had for the previous 6 days (except for the weekends obviously).
Get up.
Get dressed.
Brush his teeth.
Leave for school.
When he got to school it was practically a blur of colours and words aside from break, in which Troy had tripped him up while walking.
He’d usually retaliate or make some snide remark but he just kept walking.
After that, he went to class as usual where Lucas asked if he wanted to hang out after school.
His gut said no but he agreed anyway.
Later when they left school, they walked up to their bikes, Lucas and Dustin talking about literally anything as they always did.
Once they started riding they talked about random stuff, the weather, class, shit talking troy, whatever came to mind.
“Yo mike, you good?” Lucas said, snapping Mike to attention.
“Y-yeah” he blurted out.
“You sure, you’ve been pretty out of it all day?”
“Yeah I’m good, just didn’t sleep much.”
“Alright then”
After Will went missing they’d stopped playing dnd, Mike vowed he wouldn’t find a new party, and until he knew Will was safe. He’d stick to that.
Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by sirens.
Mike turns sharply to look at where they came from.
Seeing the ambulance, he dashes away, leaving Dustin and Lucas shouting after him.
Once he finally reached where it stopped, he saw it.
Two cop cars and a bunch of ambulances were parked by lovers lake.
It was a rather popular area.
And two people carrying a human-shaped mass out of the lake.
“It’s not Will.” He said voice shaking.
“It can’t be..” he says heart and mind racing.
“It’s Will” Lucas says, sighing into his hand.
“It’s really Will.”
Mike stares off at the body, as they pull it closer, he sees it.
Will's clothes, his hair, everything was the same.
But his skin was paler and sharper, uncanny even to someone who knew Will like the back of their hand.
As he turns away from the body his ears begin to ring.
“Mike?” Dustin says.
But he doesn’t reply, he’s too preoccupied to speak.
“It can’t be Will” he says again.
Mike hadn’t told them about what had happened when he talked to Will.
“I don’t know where I am” he repeated.
“Or anyone”
That wasn’t Will.
It couldn’t be.
Will was somewhere he didn’t recognise, but that body was in lovers lake in Hawkins, the place Will had grown up.
A place that he and Will went to often.
Will said no one was around him even though this place was a hotspot for people.
“Mike!” He heard again, snapping him back to reality.
He looked over at Dustin who’d been calling him.
“Cmon, let’s go.”
“What?” Mike said.
“Let’s go home, I think we’ve been here long enough.
Mike turned just in time to hear Hopper say that Will's body looked like it’d been decomposing for a while now.
That didn’t make sense.
Mike had talked to Will just a few days ago.
“Yeah.” He repeated.
“Let’s go home.”
He didn’t know if Will was alive but Dustin and Lucas didn’t know what he knew.
As he walked to his bike, he gripped the two figure-shaped lumps in his pocket.
Will couldn’t be dead.
As he rode back home, waving Dustin and Lucas goodbye.
He parked, walked in and collapsed onto his mother because whether he’d talked to Will a few days ago or not, there was a body that looked like Will and it’s not like he could confirm Will was alive anyway.
His mother surprised by the altercation, stayed silent and hugged him, deciding not to question why he was sad.
As he leaned into her embrace a tear rolled down his cheek, landing on the floor, and another.
After he’d calmed down he simply grabbed his bag and walked up to his room.
Once he got to his room, he fell back on his bed.
Looking over he undoes the zip on his bag, pulling out his WT once more.
“Will?” He says that the desperation and sadness are evident in his voice as he speaks.
“Will, please talk, please tell me you can hear me.”
“Something.”
“Anything.” He says finally his voice breaking, tears rolling down his cheek.
But as much as he’s hoping Will's voice will cut through his sorrow.
It doesn’t.
He just sits there crying as the world owes him something.
Pathetic.
He thinks, that’s the word his father used to describe boys who cried.
He guessed now that the word was pretty accurate wasn’t it?
He was here crying over his friend, who he knew was dead, still trying to talk to him.
He tried to deny it but Will said.
“It’s coming.”
Just because he went missing from his house doesn’t mean he stayed there. He could’ve been taken, dragged away by something or someone.
He didn’t go missing by the lake, but that’s where he ended up.
Will was gone.
That part was undeniable.
But to say that this was because he was.
Dead?
Or just temporarily gone.
That wasn’t for him to decide.
But still, he couldn’t believe Will was gone, not because Will was his friend.
His best friend, the friend he’d known for his whole life.
The friend he’d spent most of his first time with.
He could rely on it in any situation.
The friend he knew trusted Mike with his whole life.
No it was because it didn’t add up.
Will didn’t go missing by the lake.
They said his baby had been there for a while but he’d talked to Will not even three days ago.
The way wills skin was pasty, chapped and sharp, uncanny even.
It didn’t look right.
Even though the hair, the eyes, and his clothes were the same.
His face, his face was a look no one could match, the look he always had in his eyes, his thin lips, the way his nose curved upwards or how his skin felt to the touch.
That wasn’t Will.
Will said to wait.
And that was exactly what Mike was going to do.
Seven months later
June 27th 1984
Nancy walks down to the kitchen of the wheelers' house.
She opens the fridge, saying something to her mother.
“Is your brother awake?” Karen asks.
“Uh I’m not sure I haven’t seen him today, want me to go check,” Nancy says yawning.
“If you could.” She replies cheerfully.
Nancy strolling to Mike's room knocks on the door.
After a few seconds, she knocks again calling out mikes name.
“Alright I’m coming in.” She says finally.
But as she walks in, Mike's room is tidy, bed made and he isn’t there.
“Mike?” She says looking around in confusion.
After doing a double-take of Mike's room she walks out.
Once she closed the door she started looking through the other rooms and nothing.
Not his room, her room, the bathroom, nothing.
As Nancy begins to panic the dots connect.
She walks back down to the basement.
She knocks once before opening the door, and there he was.
Mike had been huddled in the corner passed out, holding something to his chest.
Nancy had forgotten that the past night she had found Mike downstairs passed out laid on a single pillow, in response to this.
She grabbed a blanket, sprawling over his cold body.
As she walks towards him with an uncharacteristic warmth in her eyes.
She tugs at his shoulders.
“Mike” she whispers shaking him lightly.
He groans as his hold on the object in his arms tightens.
“Nancy?” He finally manages to say, squinting up at her.
“Cmon, you need to wake up, Mom is making food”
“Oh alright give me a second.” As he goes to stretch his arms into the air, we see it is a black WT.
The object Mike was so dearly clinging to.
When he lifts his arms up, his shirt wrinkles, and lifts exposing his stomach causing him to shiver in response.
He kicks the blanket off of him following Nancy up the stairs as he messes with his hair trying to make it go down.
As they make their way to the table, Mike thinks, today was the first day of summer break, and he wonders if the party might wanna do something.
They hadn’t hung out much all together in a while but he thinks it could be fun.
As he thinks, he’s interrupted by Nancy.
“You coming?”
“Yeah sorry.”
As Mike runs over, Dustin and Lucas are talking in Dustin’s room.
“I’m so bored,” Lucas says
“Do you have anything to do in here??”
“Not really, I’m usually just playing with my cat or something.”
“Boring.”
“Alright well, what do you suggest we do?”
“I mean do you have any money?” He says standing up.
“Depends on why you’re asking.”
“There’s an arcade a bit across town I’m pretty sure.”
“Is it any good?”
“Has that ever really stopped us before?” Lucas frowns leaning against the wall.
“Right, stupid question.”
“Do you wanna see if Mike wants to come?”
“Ehhh, I don’t know, he’s at home most of the time, you think he’d come out?”
“Maybe, I mean it could distract him.”
“Alright then, do you have your WT?”
“Nope, I don’t carry it around anymore to be honest.”
“Alright we’ll help me find mine then, it’s been a while since I used it.” As Dustin says this, he stands up to look through his cabinets.
As Lucas pushes himself off the wall to help he lets out a groan.
Mike, who is now sitting on his bed writing in a notebook, other than the sketched dragon and words “DnD” on it, it’s a relatively normal book.
As he continues writing, getting lost in the pages, he hears static coming from beside him.
He leaps up grabbing the WT and holds it to his ear, the last time this happened he could barely hear the hoarse breathing on the other end.
But now he was shocked as Lucas screamed to Dustin that he found it.
As Mike’s heart starts back up he starts talking.
“Lucas?”
“Jesus Mike, you good? Sounds like you just ran a marathon.”
“It’s nothing.”
“What do you want?”
“Calm down, Dustin and I just wanted to ask if you wanted to go to the arcade with us.”
“The arcade…?”
“Oh right, it’s this place across town and I’m pretty sure it’s good.”
“Sure…” Mike says with suspicion underlining his voice.
As Mike stands up to pull on something comfy, he hears Lucas and Dustin talking behind him.
They always forget to click their WT off.
Mike rummaged through his wardrobe, eventually pulling out a navy long-sleeve tee and a pair of yellow plaid pyjama bottoms.
He didn’t care they were pyjama bottoms, they were comfy and they were just going to the arcade.
As he walked over to grab his shoes from the corner of his room he heard them again, clearer this time.
“Do you think this will actually help distract him?” Dustin says.
“Maybe” Lucas replies.
“I mean I get they were close but it’s been over half a year.”
“Yeah I get that, I mean it’s not like we can say much anyway, he’s still our friend.”
As Mike pulls on his socks and shoes he grabs the WT, switching the channel back to his personal one just in case.
And walks downstairs, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
“Mom I’m going out with Dustin and Lucas for a bit alright!” He calls out.
“Okay,” Karen says, eyes lingering on the TV.
As Mike goes to walk out he grabs his keys off the table, two figurines hanging off the keychain.
Walking out he shuts the door behind him, walking to his bike.
Hopping on he rides down the road to Dustin’s house.
The arcade’s entrance.
It was large, bright and there was a queue.
Looking up, Mike admits it might’ve been worth it to come here.
As they walk in, the blaring lights blind them, and the sound of games and laughing is deafening.
It was different from what Mike had expected.
He immediately felt claustrophobic in the clutter of people.
While they each squeezed past people and machines, Dustin paused at a game with the leaderboard stuck to the screen.
Walking closer to it he inserted a coin, the machine bursting to life, and the words “play” on the screen.
As Dustin got lost in the game, Lucas continued to drag Mike to the back of the arcade, which was less crowded.
By the time they reached the end of the lines of machines, Lucas whipped around, looking at Mike expectantly.
Standing there awkwardly, feeling severely underdressed and vulnerable.
He began to look around in hopes of finding something to distract Lucas.
As his eyes scanned over the pearlescent array of blue and yellow, his eyes locked onto a game.
Pointing to it, Mike started talking, trying to convince Lucas to try it.
Lucas’s eyes shimmered as he grinned, pulling Mike towards the game as well.
As he groaned, reluctantly following like a dog on a leash, his eyes tripped over the sheer number of people around them.
When they reached the machine Lucas decided to insert a few coins for both him and Mike.
By then Lucas had already started rambling on about something to try to entice Mike to play, but he instead turned his head to the entrance, to the machines, to the people. When he came back he’d probably like it here.
Standing deep in thought, he felt something soft and wet curl around his left leg, looking down he saw it, a black tendril stopping at his thigh.
Shooting back, repulsed by the feeling he kicked it away from him, in response it squelched and backed away.
As Mike looked back up to tell Lucas what he’d just seen he realised.
The tendrils were everywhere, the air was dark and difficult to see through, the walls and floor cracked like something had been thrown against them, he looked outside, the sky was dark, polluted by clouds with thin red bolts of lightning striking every few seconds.
But the biggest issue and most notable was the lack of people, everyone was gone, it was just him, the sound of lightning and the tendrils that could move apparently.
Walking out, making sure not to step on the vines he saw it, he was still in Hawkins but it wasn’t Hawkins, it was dark aside from the violent flashes of red in the sky, there were small particles of something in the air, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to breathe in but it’s not like he has a choice.
As he finally makes his way out, he looks back at the arcade, dark red cracks forming all over it, as he stares one of them starts coming directly towards him, splitting the very ground in two.
Looking towards where the crack originated on the top of the building, he sees it.
A shadow of something straight from hell itself, the shadows formed legs, a body and a head with protruding spikes all down its “back” for lack of better words as he couldn’t necessarily make out the more intricate details, especially at such a distance although, he noted it looked vaguely like a spider.
As his breathing quickened, words getting caught in his throat he tried to look around for someone, anyone, but nothing, no one was there.
Suddenly fog clouds his vision as his sight goes black and he wakes up back in the arcade, well what is probably the arcade, he didn’t know where he was, he was sitting on a chair and while he could hear people, he couldn’t see them which meant he was in some kind of back room, upon adjusting to the flash of colours in his eyes, the blue and yellow seeping down on him, oddly comforting in a way he couldn’t explain.
His eyes continued to adjust, at that second he spun his head up and around.
The vines are gone.
The air isn’t clouded and dark.
He wasn’t outside anymore.
He was back in the arcade, well he thinks he is, he isn’t too sure where he is.
Had he dreamed that whole interaction outside?
He still felt the way the vines climbed and dragged themselves across his leg, looking down he sees the dirt trail it left was gone.
But he still felt it, the saliva, the dirt and grime, the viscera, he remembered how it lingered by his left thigh before he kicked it away.
His leg felt dirty.
He’d have to wash it a lot later.
After a second he remembers he’s in a room with no clue where or how he got there even.
Standing up, a sharp ache spreading through his head and leg, he doubles over and sits back down realising it might not be the best idea to walk.
Upon thinking back to the throbbing of his head he reaches back to feel it.
The spot at the back of his scalp was wet.
Pulling his hand back forward, there’s a mixture of water and blood lingering on his index finger.
Reaching back again, prodding his finger at what he assumed was a wound with detached curiosity wondering how large it was, the shape of it and more importantly how it got there.
“Dustin! Lucas?” He called out looking towards a closed door on the right side of the room.
As he listens he hears footsteps outside the door.
“Mike!” Dustin says barging through the door, pulling him onto his feet and into a hug.
The motion caused sharp pains to ripple through his muscles, causing him to let out a low groan, and an intense ringing reverberated through his ears.
Lucas, ripping Dustin from Mike’s shoulder reminds him that Mike is injured.
“So- uh what happened?” Mike manages to slump back down and tries to catch his breath.
“You don’t remember?”
“I mean it does make sense, his eyes did roll to the back of his head.”
“My eyes- what!?”
“Yeah dude, when you pointed to that machine earlier, you fell over and your eyes rolled back, it was sick dude!”
“What?” Dustin replies looking at Lucas like he just killed someone.
“No like sick as in it made me feel sick!”
“Mhm sure, whatever you say.”
“Dustin!”
As the two boys explode in laughter Mike just wishes he were at home already.
He misses his bed.
And he didn’t get to play any games anyways so maybe he should’ve just stayed at home.
“So like can I get a bandage, or a towel or something? I’m kinda bleeding out over here”
As the two turn back to face Mike they remember the fact that he is covered in his own blood and it isn’t stopping although it’s slow it’s dripping out at a consistent rate.
Mike, while waiting keeps his hand over it, placing pressure around the area that isn’t wet and squishy to the touch.
His only real indication that the wound is there is that he’s touching his flesh under the skin.
It feels slightly reminiscent of the vine, the same texture and sound as he pressed at the flesh although there were three differences, it was black, the texture felt wrong, like there were things inside of it, waiting and the fact that it moved on its own, last time he checked flesh isn’t meant to do that.
Dustin walks back in with a white cloth and what Mike can only assume is a bottle of disinfectant.
“This is gonna sting” Dustin says applying the liquid to the cloth.
Mike thinks he really should’ve just stayed home.
October 20th 1984
Joyce and Jonathan are both at home, Jonathan is at the table lifting his spoon to his mouth, as he eats Joyce is walking to her room to presumably grab her bag.
As she walks towards the door, she pauses walking over to Jonathan and giving him a kiss on the cheek before waving and walking out the door.
As Jonathan watches her leave, the car starts up outside, he puts his bowl in the sink, turning on the tap and washing it clean.
Grabbing a dry rag to dry his hands, he clicks on the radio and grabs a pack of bacon to cook up, tuning out the sounds outside, he focuses on the song playing.
Should I stay or should I go?
Jonathan, singing along quietly get’s pulled through memory after memory, some of them building castle Byers, one of when Jonathan took the parties picture to put inside of it, a memory of him painting the sign, others of them listening to music, some just of how peaceful Will looked in his sleep, how happy Will looked going to school, how happy he looked going to Mike’s house.
And then memories of him cooking breakfast as if Will was still at home, going to work even though he knew Joyce said not to, not checking if Will was home, how wrecked Joyce was after it happened, how he felt looking in Lonnie’s trunk, the way the water dripped off of Will’s body dragging him out of lovers lake.
Since then, Karen had been coming around more often than not to talk to Joyce about Mike, about how he’d started eating less, sleeping more, stopped talking as much and how the day Will’s body was found, Nancy and Karen found him bundled up in a blanket crying in the corner of the basement, gripping onto a WT like a lifeline, the way the sweat dripped down his face when they’d tried to take it from his, Mike was terrified at the thought of not having it.
He remembers times Will would ravage the living room looking for his pencils before he left for Mike’s house, his eyes gleamed with excitement and his skin glowed a light shade of pink every time he followed this “routine” of sorts.
Jonathan had almost gotten used to the clutter and mess of the house.
But now it was quiet.
He always thought he’d like the silence, but it now carried an uncanny feeling to it.
As the song finished and another played, he hummed the words from the previous song back to himself and he reminisced about the past
Suddenly a hot trail of what felt like fire crept through his body, nesting itself in every crevice of his body, outlining his arms, trailing his spine and warming his entire being.
The sudden rush of warmth made him feel uncomfortable and itchy like he’d been sunbathing for too long.
But then it clicked, snapping his head down to look at where his hand was resting, holding onto a metallic handle.
The bacon was on fire.
The golden rays of sunlight ripped in through curtains layerd pathetically over a row of windows.
A blue king sized bed creased and imprinted by Mike’s arched back on the covers.
His t-shirt climbing higher up his chest, bottoms slightly sagging as he weighed around trying to shield his eyes.
Driving the back of his head into his pillow, he flinches.
The wound still hadn’t healed, it’d stopped bleeding sure but the torn skin still hadn’t healed and the flesh was still exposed, although he was thankful the wound was small enough that no one could see it past his soft black curls.
Pulling his head up reflexively at the pain he sees his leg, the cuffs of his bottoms had rolled up his leg exposing a black imprint on his leg, to anyone else it’s be scary seeing it, but Mike had grown used to the sight, since a few days prior the imprint stuck to him like a tattoo.
Even then he spent his entire shower each day scrubbing at the mark.
Pulling the cuff back down to his feet, ignoring the itch of pain in his ankles, he jumps up landing on his right leg, the one he decides to put the rest of his body weight on.
Still his left leg clicks, bone scraping against bone in an excruciating sensation, he had school today, it was the first day back but it didn’t feel like it considering the last month or so passed by in a blur.
As he turns to his wardrobe ignoring the subtle pulse of his leg he opens it grabbing a black tee with red and white stripes running down it, a navy blue jacket with a small pocket or either side and dark brown trousers with a small crease and patch of dirt on the knees.
Throwing the clump of clothes on his bed he walks out of his room, turning to walk into his bathroom.
Suddenly his gaze is ripped to the mirror, looking at himself he sees himself, he looks like shit.
Small, round, dark circles formed around his eyes, he noted he looked kinda like a panda, the harsh black contrasting the pale shade of his skin, hair messy and unsaid, small bits lifted up at the corners of his face, half of his hair completely flattened from where he’d slept on it.
His cheeks were slightly flushed blue and there were a few scrapes and cuts on his bottom lip, he must’ve been biting his lip again without realising it.
Glancing down at his right hand that now stood perched on the edge of the sink, fingers dangling into the bowl.
Lifting his hand up to his face he saw small pieces of dirt clinging to the bottom of his nails and his knuckles red and bruised.
Looking back up he turns to the shower, turning it on and stepping back in order to not get water on his clothes, which he slowly strips off.
Before stepping into the shower he glances at the mirror one last time, his body has pale but it was covered in blue, red, purple bruises, he kind of looked like a canvas, one that’d been scrapped, torn and ruined through it’s years of living.
One that has paint tossed on it give it some form of colour and life, this however on the small boy’s skinny and untanned body made him look worse, the colours harshly pressed into his skin, small cuts and marks, even some shaped like scratches, like something was clawing at his skin, the cuts some brown and dried, others fresh and bloody.
Looking between the crevices of his arms, where his chest turned to his stomach, his naval leading down he felt nothing but disgust.
He sharply turned his head and stepped into the shower visibly uncomfortable by the sudden warmth enveloping him, it made him feel itchy and vulnerable as the water dripped off his left elbow, his hand running through his hair, the water dripping off of him slightly tinted red, but after bunking once or twice it was clear again.
After around an hour or so he steps out, enveloped by the cold thrashing against his body.
Turning to the sink he doesn’t look in the mirror, simply turning on the tap grabbing a handful of water, splashing it onto his own face, fingers soothing the water into his pores, cleaning his face, scrubbing at his eyes until his visions turned dark and spotty, rinsing the bridge of his nose until it felt sore and bruised, scratching at his lips until they felt raw and metallic to the taste.
Wrapping a towel around his hips he walked out not bothering to dry his hair yet.
Walking into his room he swiftly dried his body, locating his underwear, slipping it over his legs that now both ached.
Grabbing onto the hem of his shirt he slipped it over his head, hiding any scarring to anyone who might look at him.
Pulling his trousers to his stomach he doubled over, sitting down to catch his breath before he wraps the trousers securely around his waist.
Looking around his room he spots a few bottles on his desk next to a medium sized box, walking over to it, grabbing onto the left one he applies a bit to his hand and rubs it on his face and into his pores.
It was something his mother gave him, he thought he’d never use it until he found out it covered up the dark circles under his eyes and made his skin slightly more healthy looking.
Sliding the bottle back into its case he grabbed the other, it was a simple hair oil he used to make his curls look better.
After a few minutes of him playing around with has hair being careful of the wound at the back of his head which was still pulsating.
He finally reached a desired look, releasing his hand from his hair he grabs a small tin, shaking it hears a few small objects crashing into each other inside.
Twisting off the cap he grabs two of the small circular pills inside and pops them into his mouth, not even flinching at the action.
Suddenly he hears a sharp knock on his door snapping him back to reality, gazing at the door he stands, seemingly frozen.
Quickly hiding the bottles and tin in a corner of his room he breaths hesitantly wondering if he should open the door.
Then another knock, just as sharp and abrupt as the prior.
“Mike?”
Oh.
Nancy was stood behind Mike’s door, he looked to his left, the numbers 8:00AM flashed on his alarm clock.
Realising he was meant to be leaving now.
“Coming!” He shouts clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t come out raspy and broken.
As he goes to open the door he turns back, freezing in place, then he walks to his bed grabbing a small keychain he then clips onto the waistband of his trousers.
Upon walking back to the door, the sound of tapping comes from the two figurines hanging high on the keychain.
walking towards the door, he reaches out and pulls on the handle, as the door swings open Nancy jumps on him (literally).
collapsing back he yelps, back slamming into the floor, legs still pulsating just as much, head throbbing definitely a lot more than prior.
“What are you doing?!"
“Oh sue me for wanting to hug my brother." she says playfully, rolling her eyes sarcastically.
“I'm literally on the floor, you just ground slammed me."
“more like a warm embrace" she says dragging Mike up to his feet.
“right so can i go get my shoes now"
“you mean these shoes?" she says holding out a brand new pair of school shoes.
“what are those..?"
“your shoes."
“my shoes dont have laces."
“oh shame, these are yours now."
“why...?"
“it’s the first day of school and your shoes are wrecked, sue me for caring about your feet."
“thank you...?"
“Of course.” She replies cheerfully spinning around to run downstairs.
Mike wasn’t used to Nancy being so lovey dovey with him, he was used to the Nancy that gave him death glares across the table, not the Nancy who gifts him new shoes because she released his shoes were broken before he did.
Deciding to think about this… issue later, he grabs a pair of socks, sliding them over his feet and then strapping his shoes on, pulling the laces into a bow.
As he grabs his bag from next to his bed he hears his WT in his bag, before he’s given the chance to panic Dustin stars talking.
“-ke Mike, you there?” Dustin sounds like he’s been trying to talk to him forever.
“Helloooooo”
He yanks the ripper of his bag open and clicks on the WT.
“Hey Dustin”
“Mike!”
“Hey?”
“Hi, I had a question.”
“Right, shoot.”
“… Did you do the homework.”
“…”
“…”
“What homework..”
“The maths homework we had set for first day back.”
“No Dustin I haven’t..”
“Oh.”
“…”
“Wanna copy mine?”
“Yes.”
“Alright then, see you at school man.”
“Right, see you, over.”
As he stands there for a second eyes lingering on the WT he quickly but carefully puts the antenna down and shoves it back into his bag.
Digging his hands into his pockets, his left hand in his left pocket and his right hand grabs hold of the keychain before sliding into his right pocket.
Looking back to his bed; 8:12AM.
He should probably go, otherwise he’ll be late again.
By the time he’s walking down the stairs his mother already has one foot out the door, glancing over at the creeping on the stairs for just a second before she gives him a small smile and a wave.
Before he leaves he walks into the kitchen and grabs a bag of chocolate he forgot to finish the night before.
Picking a chocolate out of the bag and popping it into his mouth, he walks out closing the door behind him.
By the time he reaches the schools entrance on his bike it doesn’t look like he’s been there in years, the leaves are already turning a dark shade of orange, the sun shining down on his face threatening to melt him, the bricks of the school a hint lighter than last time he was there, a bigger area to place their bikes and some faces he could tell were in his year he didn’t recognise.
Stepping off his bike and simply walking it towards the rack he sees Dustin and Lucas, Dustin giving him a big wave and a, what was meant to be a toothless smile.
Dustin’s teeth had grown in over the break and he wouldn’t stop talking about it.
He learned a stupid trick to roll his tongue to make a weird like, Mike doesn’t even know how to describe it.
Placing his bike carefully in between the wall and Dustin’s bike, he looks up to find Lucas giving him a flat smile and Dustin giving him a toothless grin.
“Hey man…?”
“Hey.” Dustin says quietly trying not to break into a fit of giggles.
“You okay?”
“Uhuh”
“He’s excited because there’s a new girl in our class today.”
“Lucas!”
“What, it’s not like there’s a point in hiding it, either way he has bigger issues.”
“What do you mean I have bigger issues.”
As Dustin runs into the building, his laughs finally freeing from his throat.
“So uh, you wanna tell me what that’s about.”
“Nah, I wanna see how you react when you connect the dots.”
“What?”
Lucas, hands in his pockets walks after Dustin.
Mike following shortly behind squeezes the keychain one last time.
When he reaches the classroom, everyone is in their seats beside his and the one next to his, the one he’d growled at people for when they tried to sit in it.
The second he begins to slouch back in his chair she walks in.
Her hair radiating warmth, practically glowing in the sun, her red jacket swaying as her arms swing from side to side, her shoes creating resounding thuds as she strolls in.
She then turns to face the teacher.
“Okay class! Some of you might of already know but we have a new student, her name is Max, Max mayfield, treat her well.”
Mike still confused doesn’t think much of her besides the fact that she looks a bit too smug for his liking.
But when he turns to Dusting, he’s already looking at Mike.
And then it clicks, he looks around and there’s one seat, Will’s seat.
“Go ahead and take a seat over there next to the black haired boy in the middle.”
Mike is Fucked.