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The first thing Mike registers is that his feet are being weighed down where he stands, his legs aren’t listening to him no matter how badly he urges them to work, to run.
He vaguely acknowledges that this is a dream but being unable to move still sends this panicky, paralyzing feeling racking through him.
The second thing Mike realizes is that he knows exactly where he is and his stomach lurches automatically. The quarry has haunted him for a long long time, it being one of the primary settings of Mike’s worst nightmares that come so easily to him these days.
He’s weighed down by the water, his jeans soaking up the cold and the dark. The liquid pulls at Mike, wants him to sink, to drown.
Mike hears the piercing sirens of the firetruck behind him and shuts his eyes tight. He’s lived through this once and that was enough. “It’s not real,” he reminds himself. “It’s not real. It’s not real.” But the scene remains when his eyes open again and he hates it. He hates the devastating feeling that threatens to overwhelm him until there’s nothing left. Just like it did the first time.
He’s about knee deep into the depths now but he has no recollection of moving. He’s not supposed to be here. This isn’t where he was when it happened. He was on the rocky shore then, his twelve year old heart pounding in his chest at even the slightest chance of good news, his friends behind him. Mike still remembers Lucas’ shaky inhales with frightening clarity.
But that’s not what’s happening now. Now, Mike’s weighed down and his friends are nowhere to be seen.
Here, in the water, he’s too close. Too afraid. He blinks and men in uniforms are rushing past him holding a stretcher. He’s too close when they find what they’re looking for and haul his best friend’s body from the lake and onto the stretcher with almost no care at all.
Will Byers looks so small Mike could fucking cry. And he does. Just like he did when he was twelve. Sobbing hard with his mother’s arms around him so tight.
All Mike can do now is watch and try to steady his breathing because seventeen year old Mike should know better. Rationally, he knows that Will is alive, that his story did not end here. But it’s frustratingly hard to get a handle on his emotions when the men who pulled the body have these terrible looks on their faces. And they’re being too rough with Will. ‘It’s not really him,’ Mike reminds himself but god, it really looks like him.
Mike wants to move, wants to run and stand beside his best friend and hold him close. To shield him alway from all the monsters and prying eyes that have ever sought to do him harm because Will Byers has never deserved any of the awful, horrendous things that have happened to him. Will is and always has been the kindest person Mike has ever met. He was always too good for him. Seventeen year old Mike knows that. Even twelve year old Mike knew that.
Mike sort of feels like he’s suffocating as the men drag Will’s body away, far from Mike’s reach. He tries to follow them but his legs are still stuck and he’s still crying and the fact he’s stuck makes him cry harder. Will’s so far now. The further he gets, the harder it is to gulp down air. The sirens from before seem even louder now and Mike can’t breathe and he has to put his hands over his ears just to feel a tiny bit of relief, eyes squeezed shut so tight it hurts. He thinks he hears someone screaming and barely registers that it’s him, his lungs constricting and releasing over and over again until…
Silence.
When Mike tentatively blinks his eyes open, he’s somewhere just as familiar, just as painful. The cliff looks just as he remembered. Only this time, there’s no Dustin, no bullies, no El to save him. It’s just him and the void below. The distance from his feet to the lake calls to him, dangerously enticing. He’s able to finally move his legs now but he almost wishes that he couldn’t. He kicks a nearby rock to see how long it takes to hit the water but loses it halfway through its descent.
Mike swallows hard and forces himself to step back until the lake is no longer in view. Only then does he turn around and his heart stops beating for what feels like an eternity.
Twelve year old Will stares back at him, soaked to the bone. His skin is pale, far paler than it should be. He’s wearing that dumb flannel and dumber orange vest and the sight of his waterlogged little sneakers has Mike hurting all over. Will’s blue lips are curled into a half smile and he waves because even in Mike’s nightmares, he’s never cruel. He’s fundamentally kind. “Hi, Mike.” He says softly. His voice used to be so small.
“Will,” Mike chokes out, this ugly broken sound soon following. But his own voice is smaller, younger. And he realizes that in this moment, he’s twelve years old too. He’s shorter, weaker, terrified.
Mike wants to throw himself at his best friend, hug him until he’s warm and dry and safe. He doesn’t dare move. This isn’t right.
Will takes a step closer and Mike’s stomach hurts. “What’s wrong?” He asks, his eyes devoid of their usual expression. It’s not him.
“What are we doing up here?” Mike replies anyway, voice scratchy and harsh like it used to be. His hands shake at his sides.
Will just shrugs and keeps moving closer til they’re side by side. He touches a freezing hand to Mike’s elbow and turns him around until they’re facing the lake once more. “I like the view,” he says and Mike feels sick, almost guilty. Will hates the cold.
“This isn’t real,” he’s not sure if he’s saying this to Will or himself but either way, it falls flat.
Will doesn’t spare him a glance. “You’re shaking like it is.”
Mike’s frown deepens. He crosses his arms, holding himself in a pathetic attempt to stay grounded. “I don’t want to be here.” What he wants more than anything is to wake up.
“Bring back too many memories?” Will asks and he says it in a way like he knows. The water below beckons Mike to look closer, Will’s cold hand still on his elbow. It’s oddly comforting.
Mike hasn’t told a soul what happened that day in 1983 and he made Dustin swear on his mother he wouldn’t either. El tried to talk to him about it, a couple of times actually. But Mike would just brush it off and change the subject. He claimed there was “Nothing to talk about.” He always said he was fine.
Now, Mike breathes shakily, in and out, in and out, repeat. He expects the question but it still hurts to hear out loud.
“Why’d you do it?” Will asks him. “Why’d you jump?” It’s not even accusatory, just genuinely curious.
Mike quickly swallows down the bile in his throat. Really, he could say a number of things. “To save Dustin.” “Because the bullies told me to.” “The water looked particularly inviting that day.” Anything.
And of course he wanted to save Dustin. He did. But, the sickest parts of him know there was always something more to it.
When he stood over the edge of the cliff that day, he wasn’t really scared at all. If anything, he almost felt relieved.
Taking a deep breath, he looks to Will, his best friend in the world, and allows himself to say something that he’s never admitted to anyone else.
“Because I wanted to.”
It’s awfully quiet for a long time and tears once again spring to Mike’s eyes.
Will’s hand slides from his elbow then, all the way down to Mike’s trembling hand. Their fingers interlock and Will squeezes him once and then once more. “Why?” His voice is just above a whisper. Almost like he wants to cry, too.
Mike fights hard to keep his sobs down but his voice still cracks horrendously when he says it. “You were gone.”
Will nods like he understands and Mike can’t even begin to unpack that so he keeps talking. “You were gone and I felt alone. I missed you more than I had ever missed anything. So much that it terrified me. Does that…does that make sense?”
“Of course,” Will says quickly, easily. Because he always gets it, always gets him. And then he looks back over the cliff and something shifts in the air between them. It feels colder than it should. He squeezes Mike’s hand again. “You wanted to be with me? Down there?”
Mike simply nods even though he knows that Will was never down in that quarry. That awful November, he was somewhere far worse but Mike wanted to be with him anyways. “I always want to be with you,” he says and he’s surprised how simply the words come, how deeply he means them.
Tears run down Mike’s face and he tries to suppress a shudder when Will cups his cheek and wipes them away. “It’s okay, Mike.” It should feel reassuring but he’s still so goddamn cold. “I’m here with you.” Something’s. Not. Right. Mike can’t find it in himself to care.
Suddenly, Will tugs and tugs until they’re both on the cliff’s edge. Mike doesn’t even fight it. He loves him too much. Will could burn Hawkins down to the ground with everyone inside and Mike would watch the flames in awe.
“We could still go, you know,” Will nearly taunts. “Together this time?” And Mike’s head swims. There’s something poetic about the thought. The boy who drowned at the quarry, and his best friend who jumped in after him. It’s not real. It’s not what actually happened. But for Will, Mike would do anything, even this. Especially this.
“Okay,” Mike whispers and it’s barely even audible but Will smiles at him.
“Okay,” Will repeats. Even now, when he’s asking Mike to die with him, for him, Mike finds him incredibly endearing. And Mike can’t help it this time when he throws his arms around Will and buries his face into his neck. He’s still dripping, he’s still freezing but none of that matters. It doesn’t matter because Will holds him back. “I love you, Mike,” he whispers against him and Mike breaks.
“I…”
And just like that, they’re both falling. Still trapped in each other’s arms. Mike shuts his eyes tight, keeps his face pressed into Will’s neck. He just hopes it doesn’t hurt. He hopes Will doesn’t feel it. They fall and they fall and they…
——————————————————————
“MIKE!”
Mike lunges forward, breathing hard and fast. He’s seventeen again and he’s tired. He looks around the dark space and desperately tries to figure out where he is. He wipes the sweat from his brow, the tears from his eyes.
The lamp on his dresser is flicked on by someone that isn’t him and it takes far too long for him to realize he’s in his own bedroom. The posters and the drawings littered on the walls are evidence enough. The boy next to him really seals the deal, though.
“Mike,” Will says and the concern in his voice is so evident, so overwhelming. His hands are hovering like he wants to touch but isn’t sure if he’s allowed “Mike, are you okay? You were screaming.” His voice way too gentle. Mike takes one look at him and completely shatters. He all but collapses into his best friend, sobs racking his entire body. “Woah, hey! It’s alright. It’s alright.” Will places both his hands on Mike’s shoulders, it’s too much but not nearly enough.
And Mike shakes his head against him. Will’s warm. He’s warm and he’s kind and everything is almost starting to feel right again. But the sobs don’t stop. “I’m sorry,” Mike chokes and he’s not even sure what exactly he’s apologizing for. There’s so many things that he needs to say, to fix. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He sobs until his head throbs and Will just lets him. His hand finds a place in Mike’s hair and it’s so nice, so welcome. His other hand is rubbing circles on Mike’s back, grounding him.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Will states and Mike almost laughs at that. He shakes his head again and tries to prevent more crushed noises from pushing their way forward. “Hey,” Will whispers, hands back on Mike’s shoulders so he can push him slightly and Mike is forced to look at him. “I need you to breathe for me, alright? You’re okay. You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” He promptly wipes at Mike’s tears then leaves his hands on either side of his face. “Mike, please.” He says after the silence lasts too long.
Mike nods then because he doesn’t want Will to worry. He nods again and attempts to breathe in a way that’s considered normal. Without really thinking about it, he places one of his hands over Will’s chest, his heart, and focuses on the steady rhythm. Will doesn’t seem to mind and puts one of his own hands on top of Mike’s.
This is what they do for each other. Will has been sleeping in Mike’s bed with him every night for almost 6 months straight, at Mike’s insistence. This mandatory quarantine has been shitty for so many reasons but the Byers staying in the Wheeler house is not one of them. If Will can’t sleep or has a nightmare, Mike’s there to hold him until he stops shaking. And Will does the same for him. Every time. Like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
Mike inhales through his nose and out of his mouth, never breaking eye contact with his best friend. Scared that if he lets him go, even a little, that he’ll be gone forever.
“Better?” Will asks after a while, shifting but not pulling away.
“Mhm,” Mike mumbles, not trusting any of his words just yet. He wants to hug Will again. He wants to hold him until everything stops hurting. Will’s heart beats beneath his palm and it’s the best thing Mike’s ever felt.
Eventually, he lets his hand slip away and fall into his own lap. “Thank you,” he mumbles, suddenly embarrassed all over again. “I’m sorry for waking you.”
Will pulls his own hands away but presses their knees together instead. “What have we talked about? I’m always here to help you, yeah? You don’t have to thank me. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
Mike nods, eyes low. He fiddles with his hands.
Will nudges their knees together, even closer. Mike knows what he wants to say before Will even gets the chance to spit it out. “Do you want to talk about it?” He nudges Mike again. “You know the rules. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I’m here to listen if you do.”
Mike’s so grateful for him it burns. Oddly enough, he does want to talk about it. The body, the quarry, the guilt. These are things that have been eating at him for years. He’s just been too afraid to be that vulnerable with someone. But one look from Will and Mike suddenly feels like confessing every terrible thing he’s ever done because he knows that Will won’t leave him, no matter what he says. They’ve been through so much together. Mike’s first friend. Mike’s best friend. He trusts him more than anyone else.
“Uh, yeah,” Mike starts, swallowing hard. “But first, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Will must see the nervous look in his eye because before Mike knows it, their hands are intertwined again. Will nods at him, encouraging him to continue. “You can tell me anything.”
Mike’s next words feel unstable, shaky. “Um,” and he squeezes Will tight. “I haven’t told anyone this. I mean, Dustin knows…and El but that’s only because they were there. No one else.” Will squeezes back. ‘I’m listening.’
“When you were still…missing,” and Mike chokes on the word but keeps going. “Something happened. At the quarry.”
Something like fear flashes behind Will’s eyes for a moment but he didn’t speak. He let Mike speak at his own pace and didn’t interrupt.
“I had gotten into this stupid fight with Lucas. El-she tried to protect me and hurt him without meaning to. Lucas left and El had run off. It was just me and Dustin. We were trying to find El when Troy and James cornered us. Troy had a knife and we didn’t know what else to do except run. And we kept running until we made it to the cliff. Dustin can’t run for shit and that’s me talking.” Will lets out a small hum and presses closer to Mike. “Troy caught him and told me he would cut him, cut out his baby teeth if I didn’t…” A shudder runs through him then. He opens and closes his mouth a couple times. It’s one little word. But the weight of it feels so heavy, so revealing.
Will’s eyes never leave his even as they begin to well up. His expression tells Mike he already knows because of course he does. Will knows Mike better than anybody. He has since they were five.
Taking one last breath for courage, Mike lets himself be heard. Lets himself be understood. “If I didn’t jump.” The words settle between them. Mike swallows hard and tries not to focus on the way Will’s bottom lip wobbles. “So that’s what I did.” There. It’s out in the open. For better or for worse. Worse is starting to look like the more probable outcome because Will looks horrified. And that immediately sends guilt pooling in Mike’s bones. Still, he allows Mike to carry on, squeezing his hands so tight it hurts and trying to keep his sniffles quiet.
“I had only been falling for what felt like a couple of seconds when El found us. She saved my life. Broke Troy’s arm too.” He sniffles too, feeling oddly lighter all things considered. He shrugs helplessly, looking deep into Will’s eyes. “So now you know.”
Will is quiet for a long while before he slowly reaches out like he’s giving Mike enough time to pull away if he wanted. He wouldn’t dream of it. Will’s arms wrap around him and Mike melts instantly. “I’m sorry,” Will whispers and his voice is trembling so much. More than Mike’s heard in a long time. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” And then even quieter, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
Mike shakes his head hard, not having the strength to pull away. “It’s not your fault,” his words muffled against Will’s collarbone. But just in case Will doesn’t get it, Mike leans back enough so their eyes meet. A tear falls down Will’s cheek and Mike thumbs it away like it was never there at all. “It’s not your fault.”
Will leans forward then and presses a shaky kiss to the top of Mike’s head and Mike’s breath stutters. Unexpected but so wonderful.
“Sorry,” Will whispers. “I shouldn’t have-“
“No,” Mike cuts him off quick. “No, it helps.”
Will inhales shakily, nodding ever so slightly. And then he’s pressing a kiss to Mike’s forehead. Then his temple. One cheek. Then the other. He kisses and kisses everywhere but Mike’s mouth until eventually, he rests their foreheads together. It’s more intimate than Mike anticipates and he fights back ugly sobs. He loves him. Mike loves him so much it aches. He wouldn’t let anyone else hold him like this, he realizes. Even when they were kids, holding hands was meant for Will and Will alone. Their hugs would’ve lasted for days if they had their way.
Mike’s face burns everywhere Will’s lips touched but it is not unwelcome by any means. This is unexplored territory, the overwhelming love he has for Will. The pounding of his chest whenever Will puts his hands on him. The lingering looks. They’re been teetering on the edge of friendship and something more for what must be years at this point. And they both know it. It’s obvious and it’s intense and for once, Mike’s not scared of what that means. He just soaks up the warmth Will provides and hopes to god that tomorrow never comes.
“Thank you for telling me,” Will says, kissing Mike’s nose so so gently.
“Thank you for being here.” Mike replies. “I don’t just mean tonight.” Through every ridiculous fight, all the cruel words Mike’s ever spat at him, Will was always there for him. He never left. Even when Mike swore up and down that he deserved it. Will is kind and Mike loves him. He can’t begin to express his appreciation for him. “Thank you for being you.” And then it’s him leaning in to kiss Will’s cheek. His jaw. Forehead. Then, because he’s feeling brave, the corner of his mouth. And this kiss is different from the rest. It’s evident in the way Will’s breath hitches and Mike’s heart is beating so fast you would think he just ran a marathon.
He searches Will’s face for any sign of discomfort and when he finds none, Michael Wheeler lets himself have this. He lets himself be in love with his best friend. In this moment, he’s not afraid. He doesn’t care about monsters from alternate dimensions or what fucked up things either of their fathers would do if they found them in this position. All he cares about now is Will. All he’s ever cared about is Will.
Excruciatingly slow, Mike leans in. The doubt creeps in quick but he pushes it down with all he’s got. What if he’s been reading this wrong? What if this is what finally drives Will away for good? His worries are soon silenced and he exhales softly when Will meets him in the middle. Their lips barely even brush but it’s absolutely incredible. It feels so weirdly natural, like they’ve done this thousands of times before.
Mike adores El. She’s beautiful, smart, and like Will, she’s so kind despite everything she’s been through. But kissing her never felt like this. Not even once. Mike feels his nerves singing beneath his skin. He feels so awake, so alive.
Will gently threads his fingers into Mike’s hair and pulls him back in, using a little more pressure this time. There’s no hesitation but it’s not rushed. The intensity isn’t crushing like Mike thought it would be. It’s just them.
Will kisses like he does everything else. He’s thoughtful and sweet and Mike can’t get enough of him. He mouths gently against him and Mike doesn’t want to do anything else for as long as he lives. He can’t believe they waited so long to have this. They don’t break their kiss as they lay back down on the bed, limbs tanging together until they can’t tell where Will ends and Mike begins. It’s wonderfully suffocating and Mike then remembers he needs to breathe but dreads it.
When they do part, they’re still so incredibly close. Will is smiling and Mike loves him. And before he knows it, the words are tumbling out of him. “I love you.” He says it so easily it shocks him. The truth has never been something easy for Mike to admit. But these words, the ones he’s never even let himself admit before now, he means them. He means them more than anything else he’s ever said.
Will blinks at him stupidly for a second before the words catch up to him. His smile grows and he’s gently brushing the hair from Mike’s eyes, cupping his warm face. “I love you too.” Mike beams, elation mixing together with his disbelief.
“You do?” He asks, blinking away tears for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. He doesn’t mind so much this time, not when Will’s looking at him like that.
Will nods and shuffles impossibly closer. “I do. I really do.” He slings an arm across Mike’s stomach, playing with his ribs. “I’ve loved you for years. As long as I can remember.” He whispers but Mike feels the words hit him right in his heart. Will uses Mike’s shoulder as a pillow, looking suddenly sleepy while Mike might just start bouncing out of his skin.
“Years, huh?” Mike asks, lightheaded with how good he feels. He presses a longing kiss to Will’s head before flicking the lamp light off.
“Years,” Will repeats, not joking in the slightest. And then, in a more serious tone, “Did you want to tell me about your dream?”
Mike kisses Will gently, savoring the warm feelings that come from it. He had completely forgotten that’s why they were even awake in the first place. “Later. You’re tired.”
Will shakes his head. “Not that tired.” He tries to sit up but just falls back against Mike. A yawn surges through him just to prove Mike’s point.
Mike giggles a little. “See?”
“Shut up,” Will says with no real bite. And then, softer, kinder. “I just don’t want you to have to deal with this by yourself anymore. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You know that, right?”
Mike looks at him again. Really looks. His eyes are kind, not pitying at all. He’s perfect. “I know, baby. I know. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Promise.” And he means it. He doesn’t want to deal with this by himself anymore either.
Will nods before settling back into Mike’s shoulder. “Okay. Tomorrow.” He hums against him and Mike feels it more than he hears it. “I love you.”
Mike shuts his own eyes, smiling something genuine and real. It’s better than he’s felt in months, his whole life maybe. “I love you. So much.”
After letting out an adorable little squeak, Will’s drifting off to sleep, his breathing eventually evening out. The dream fades to the back of Mike’s mind, dormant but not forgotten.
He has a lot of things he wants to talk to Will about. That feeling of relief he had on the cliff all those years ago. How it feels like he can’t breathe sometimes when Will goes too far. Things he’s scared of. Things he’s ashamed of.
But he also wants to tell him all the stupid meaningless jokes that pop inside his head. He wants to hold his hand on the good days and the bad. He wants to go to parties he’d normally hate and dance with him, no matter who watches. He wants to love him and never stop. Now, with Will in his arms, he thinks he might get the chance to. And he wouldn’t waste it.
Mike changes his mind. He’s okay with tomorrow coming as long as Will Byers is there next to him, being his beautiful, wonderful self. Mike shudders, pressing one last kiss to Will’s head. Just because he can. He knows it won’t be the last time. For now, it’s enough. And it’s everything.