Chapter Text
“They’re almost here!” Lucas exclaimed, peering out the living room window of the Wheeler house.
Mike felt nervous. Five years had passed since the end of that nightmare. Vecna had been defeated, and everyone had gone their separate ways. Over the years, they had made a habit of coming back to Hawkins every summer for at least a week or two. But last summer, no one had come back. For the first time, Mike had found himself alone in Hawkins.
And now he was tere again, in his house with Lucas and Max, waiting for the others. After an entire year without seeing them all, without seeing Will, his best friend.
After Will’s coming out, nothing had really changed between them. The physical distance had helped Mike process it, and yet, after all that time, he still could not stop thinking about it. About Will’s crush. He remembered Will’s tear-filled eyes and that small voice echoing in his head, whispering it’s you, it’s you. And then there was Tammy Thompson. What had Will really meant by that?
Now he was about to spend two full weeks with his friends, just like the old days. The thought filled him with excitement, at least until Max threw herself onto the couch and casually said the sentence that completely threw him off balance.
“Oh, right. I forgot to tell you. Will called a couple of weeks ago.”
At the sound of Will’s name, Mike snapped around to face her.
“He said he’s coming with Sam. Apparently he’ll only stay for a few days and leave before Christmas. Guess I kind of forgot to mention it,” she added, rubbing the back of her neck.
In an instant, Mike’s excitement was replaced by something else. Irritation. Anxiety.
Maybe it was just because Max had not told him sooner. Yes, that had to be it.
Lucas was now spotting them from the window, while Mike tried to calm himself down, tugging at the sleeves of his sweater. His face felt warm as he wiped his sweaty palms on the fabric, pacing back and forth across the room.
Max noticed immediately and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, Wheeler, everything okay? I thought things were all good with El now.”
Mike flinched and decided not to waste another second wondering why he felt so worked up. He just needed to calm down.
“Oh, yeah. Totally. I was just thinking that my parents aren’t home, so we could all crash here tonight.”
Max did not look convinced, but she had had enough of Mike’s mood swings so she headed for the door with Lucas to welcome the others.
Over the past few years, Mike had not put much effort into his social life. Instead, he had chosen to focus on studying and writing. Day and night, he worked on his novel or, as Lucas liked to call it without having any idea what it actually was, the masterpiece.
Lucas opened the door, and Max was already throwing herself at El, arms wrapped tight around her. The reunion officially began. Nancy, Robin, Vicky, Steve, Dustin, Erica all filed in one by one, shaking snow from their hair and shoulders as they took off their coats in the entryway.
Mike could not control the sweat on his hands or the pounding of his heart. He was fairly certain he might throw up at any moment. He greeted everyone in a rushed, distracted way, his eyes constantly flicking toward the back of the room. There was no sign of Will. Or of this mysterious Sam.
He knew nothing about the guy. Will had never told him that he had been seeing someone for about six months. He had found out through Max, and maybe Will had asked her to break the news. Will did not want to talk about it. Mike did not want to hear about it. It had worked just fine that way.
But now he was going to have to see him, say hello, meet him.
The confusion on Mike’s face must have been obvious, because Robin, rubbing Vicky’s arms to warm her up, looked over and said, “Oh, Will and Sam will be here soon. They stopped by the Byers’ place first. Joyce and Hopper were giving the poor couple the third degree. They’ll join us in a bit.”
She smiled at him, conspiratorial. Mike returned it a second too late.
The kitchen was stocked with food and alcohol for everyone. Robin immediately took charge of the music with Steve.
“How is it possible we’re still hanging out with these kids after five years?” he joked, downing his first beer. “By now I should have at least four out of six nuggets, don’t you think?”
Dustin was buzzing with energy. He had taken the distance the hardest. He had won a scholarship in California and moved there completely on his own. He had quickly found a new group of nerds to hang out with, but nothing compared to being back with his childhood friends. After everything they had been through together.
He plopped down on the couch beside Mike and offered him a beer.
“Dude, whatever’s eating you, drink to it.”
Dustin’s voice pulled Mike out of his thoughts. He had just been noticing that an hour had passed, and it felt like the ticking of the clock on the mantel had grown louder.
With a small smile, Mike took the cold can from Dustin’s hand. The chill grounded him, brought him back to the present, and eased something in his chest.
“So,” Dustin asked, trying to peer into his friend’s mind, “how’s the creature coming along?”
“Oh, good,” Mike said, smiling. “You call it the creature, Lucas calls it the masterpiece, and I still don’t know what to call it. I don’t know what I’m doing or how it’s going. Sometimes it feels like I’m just wasting my time.”
The words spilled out faster and faster. He could not stop himself and was not even sure he was making any sense, rolling the can between his hands as he spoke.
“Man,” Dustin cut in, “you really need that drink.”
Mike let out a nervous laugh and finally took a sip.
Dustin jumped up from the couch. “You know what time it is, right?”
Steve answered from the other side of the room, even though the question had not been directed at him. “Beer poooong.”
Lucas organized everything in record time, the teams, the cups, the beer, while Mike headed upstairs to look for the ping-pong ball.
Stepping into his room felt like traveling back in time. Everything looked exactly as it had six years ago. A wave of melancholy washed over him, and he ducked into the bathroom, letting cold water run over his wrists and then splash against his cheeks.
“What is wrong with you, Mike?” he muttered to his reflection.
Back in his room, he opened the closet. The ball had to be in there somewhere, buried under old junk. That was when he saw it, a transparent plastic box filled with half of his adolescence. He sank down onto the floor and began pulling out memories.
He almost could not believe it when his hands landed on Will’s old drawings. He lifted them carefully, as if they were relics, flipping through them slowly. He thought about how he should have protected them better from time.
Just like the painting.
He kept it hanging in his bedroom, in the apartment he shared with Lucas. Looking at it always calmed him, especially when he felt like he was losing focus. When doubts about the future, or about what he was doing with his life came crashing down on him. It was his cure for anxiety attacks, his safe place.
“Wheeler, are you making the ball up there?” Max’s voice floated up the stairs, cutting through the music and noise.
“The ball!” he whispered, and suddenly he remembered exactly where it was. The dresser.
He grabbed it quickly and, when he reached the top of the stairs, raised it like a trophy, calling out cheerfully, “Found it!”
He ran out of his room toward the stairs. Time seemed to have stopped.
It felt like he stood there on the stairs for far too long. All at once, he felt small. Ridiculous. His arm lowered almost on its own as his eyes locked onto Will, standing in the doorway.
A mustard-colored coat. His hair shorter on the sides now, damp with snow. A red scarf he was in the middle of pulling from his neck.
Mike practically had to force himself to blink. His eyes burned when Will’s met his.