Work Text:
Mike remembered the way his breath had caught in his throat, how his eyes had widened and mouth tugged into a smile of pure awe. He remembered Will on his knees, out of breath, hair tousled and a thin line of copper dripping from his nose to the curve of his top lip. Panting a little from the effort of what he’d just done but remaining upright, not collapsing.
It had been incredible. One of the most incredible things he’d ever seen. And he’d made sure Will knew that when he ran to him, putting his hands on his friend’s shoulders, making exclamations, pulling him into a tight and firm hug, everything going by in a blur. He remembered the surprise and pride on Robin, Lucas’s, even Erica’s faces when he told them.
That buzz stayed in the air when the group had huddled over sofas at the gloomy radio station, and he’d proudly boasted of what Will had done — simultaneously killing three of those slimy beasts. Will had just looked away with a small smile, always bashful, not wanting to take credit for saving all three of their asses. Mike had been happy, amazed. All of them had been.
But it hadn’t lasted long — because there was something wrong with Will.
Something had changed since that initial time he unlocked his abilities. Mike had been the first to notice. He always was when it came to his best friend. Will staring off into space and needing to be spoken to repeatedly to snap him back to himself, keeping his jacket wrapped around his waist and sleeves rolled up even in the chilly November air, occasionally touching his head and wincing like it hurt. And this.. it had him thinking.
Mike knew what he’d told Will. He was like a sorcerer. Like him, like Vecna. That connection had allowed him to tap into the hivemind and use Vecna’s abilities.
But he also remembered long campaigns and nights spent flicking through the Dungeon Master’s Guide book. He remembered what was described on page 124 of that manual.
The eye of Vecna — it required you removing one of your own eyes and implanting the shrivelled orb. It allowed you to harness Vecna’s powers and gain amazing skills; true sight, X-Ray vision, spellcasting, firing beams of necrotic energy, disintegrating monsters at your will.
But it came at a cost. The more you used it, the more you tuned into those powers, the further your alignment tilted towards evil. The more you let Vecna in. The more he could corrupt your soul to the point of no return.
He’d seen firsthand how bad things got when Will slipped too far under the control of the hivemind. The screams and inhuman shrieks and thrashing of his friend in that fluorescent hospital, the memory of staring into soulless dark eyes and not knowing if Will was still there often replayed in his nightmares. Encouraging Will to tap into the hivemind more, to keep using his powers — was it really a good idea?
That thought hadn’t left his mind, weighing heavy as they’d flurried through arranging plans, gathering weapons, loading up the truck, infiltrating the military base to get to what they needed — the gate.
Bullets had flown back and forth, people had been yelling and running and by the time the easy part was over and they were finally in the Upside Down everyone was tired, shaken and in a daze of sorts. It had taken a while for their erratic huffing and panting to die down to silence. He knew as well as everyone else that they had a lot of shit ahead of them, but now with the wheels of Murray’s cramped, rickety old van crunching over inter-dimensional turf and their bodies being occasionally jostled by bumps and rough spots of land, they had just a little time to prepare.
The rim of his beanie itched his skin, a red hue beamed down on them and there was a heaviness in the air.
Robin cracked a joke in the background, having a quiet conversation with Lucas, and Steve, who was holding his usual spiky bat. Nancy shuffled through their armory, checking they had everything they needed even though she’d already done that before they left. Jonathan watched her, seeming to swallow a lump in his throat. Dustin glanced over at the group talking but remained silent, brows furrowed and a focused look on his face.
El stood quietly by herself, facing on frontwards with her back pressed against the wall of the van, her expression firm and stoic and hair slicked back tightly.
These last eighteen months — she and him had become more.. compatible. Things had been different. They never had that conversation about rekindling anything romantic. It didn’t seem right, it wasn’t the time. Especially now with the added detail of her sister Kali being back in the picture. When they’d started to talk again — though on rare occasion, as for the most part she’d had to stay hidden with Hopper, on the low as government agents were on the prowl — it had been less one-on-one talks and more conversations with the entire group. It was about plans to defeat Vecna, about how her training was going, about how they could improve their Crawls. And it felt right. They were on the same wave-length, no couple drama to get in the way of what mattered.
But maybe — no, definitely, he told himself — once all this was over, once Vecna was gone, they’d come together again. She was still meant to be his girlfriend. That was what was right, what they were supposed to do. Their relationship was just.. on hold. He repeated that like a mantra in his head whenever doubt or thoughts that he knew were wrong crept in.
Although, for now they were both happy being apart. Just for now. Until the apocalypse was over and the world was no longer on the verge of collapse.
He glanced to look at Will behind him, just out of the corner of his eye.
Will’s palm was pressed against the side of the van, trying to hold himself steady. He was staring down at the ground with a completely blank expression. Mike wasn’t sure if it was just the lighting, or the paranoia in his head, but he could swear that in those eyes the pupils looked dilated, and the irises were darker than normal. Not their usual light hazel green, rather seeping into a brown similar to his own.
His mind flashed back to that day in 1984, in the shed, Will bound by rope to a chair and his eyes — his dark brown eyes, darting around erratically. A shiver ran down his spine.
Mike swallowed before speaking. “Will”, he murmured. His friend’s vacant state didn’t waver and so he extended an arm and placed it on Will’s, giving him a little shake. “Will”.
Then Will’s eyes snapped up to meet his own, and even that felt unsettling. For a moment his friend looked like a startled wild animal before his expression smoothed out again.
“You.. you okay?”, he asked nervously, not taking his hand off Will’s arm, instead tightening his grip just a little.
Will licked his lips before giving him a smile that felt very forced. “Fine. I’m fine. Just.. all this, it’s..”. He ran his hand through his brown hair and heaved out a sigh. “It’s a lot. I think I zoned out there”.
“Yeah, no totally, just uh — if you need anything, I’m here”. God, he felt awkward saying that. Will just gave him a small nod and he let his hand slip off the other boy’s arm and dangle limply by his side again.
He opened his mouth to speak again but before he could the wheels of the vehicle screeched and he was sent tumbling forward, steadying his footing just in time and narrowly avoiding crashing right into Will. The crowd huddled in the back all let out simultaneous cries as the van shook and they all got flung to varying degrees of severity, those further down hitting the back wall.
Dammit. Had he really let the entire journey slip by just like that, too afraid to leave speaking to Will for anything but the last minute?
Mike reached up to fix his beanie. He’d catch Will later, find some time to speak to him once they were situated at their base. He had to tell him his concerns, he couldn’t let his friend potentially get hurt when there was something he could do to stop it.
“Alright kiddos!”, Murray yelled out in his usual obnoxious, unapologetic tone. Mike heard the sound of the van door opening and the man’s boots crunching on the soil outside to come round and open the back of the vehicle. “Grab your things! Hope everyone’s ready, the real show starts now”.
Mike almost rolled his eyes. This wasn’t a show. This was life or death. Did Bauman ever take anything seriously?
Still, him and Will shared a quick look — one that felt off, that lacked its usual warmth — before he grabbed the flamethrower gun that he’d clumsily learned to use after a lot of scolding and exasperated looks from Nancy during target practice, and followed everyone else bustling to jump out the back.
When he first got out Mike just stared for a moment. Now he could see the Upside Down, really see it. The cold seeped into his bones almost immediately.
The familiar surroundings of Hawkins in front of him were submerged in a cold, desaturated blue, dark clouds hanging heavy. Particles of spores drifted in the air. The distorted screech of something inhuman sounded far off in the distance. A clap of thunder and then a single bolt of lightning flashed and briefly illuminated the atmosphere in a dim light. Like home, but so dark, so cold. Yeah, Will’s description from back then matched it just about perfectly.
“Holy shit..”, he muttered under his breath.
The feeling of a hand slapping his back made him jolt and snap out of his daze.
“Don’t spend too long standing there slack jawed in admiration, Mike”. Lucas, geared out in military camo and clutching his own weapon, quirked his brows at him.
He shot his friend a mildly annoyed look, though the corners of his lips twitched up just slightly. “I wasn’t admiring it..”. Mike cleared his throat quickly. “Right — the plan”.
The group turned to look in his direction and he quickly delved into running through things again.
“El’s going to meet Hopper, Joyce and Kali back at the wall, be ready to come into action once we give the signal”, he nodded towards the girl stood to the side, her chin tilted up and an expression of unwavering bravery that he’d always admired plastered across her face.
“The rest of us will be at the church, we’ll draw out the Demo’s and start our attack to weaken the Hivemind. The ones Will can’t kill”— he hesitated just a little saying that, gripping his gun tighter. “— we’ll send scampering away with their tails between their legs. El and Kali will draw them over and finish them off. Once Vecna realises his army is being weakened, and by extension, him too, he’ll hopefully come out wherever he’s hiding, and we can give the cue to El’s team, regroup, and finish this once and for all. Save Holly and the kids. Kill Vecna”.
He turned towards Murray who was leaning against his van. “And Murray—“.
“Getaway driver. I got it”, the man replied quickly, flashing him a toothy grin. “I’ll have this pretty baby parked right outside the gate waiting to come back through and whisk you all away once you soldiers give the signal”.
“And your walkie talkie, in case anything goes wrong?”, he pressed.
Murray slid it out his jacket pocket, waving it in the air. “Right here”.
“Alright”. Mike gave him a curt nod and then turned back to the others as Murray walked away and clambered back into the vehicle. “Everyone ready?”.
“Aye aye, captain..”, Dustin stated in a monotone voice, holding up his axe in the air. “Let’s finish this bastard off”.
**
The trek to the church didn’t take too long, around fifteen minutes. Though it was a lot more unsettling than the usual walks Mike had been dragged along on Sundays as a kid, where his only worries were his tie choking him too tight and his father scolding him for glowering. He’d been extremely grateful once his parents had finally given up on he and Nancy, and those trips had stopped around age twelve.
Now his mind was plagued less with uncomfortable clothes and irritated fathers and more with the possibility of an interdimensional monster jumping out of the dark, eery surroundings and mauling him and his friends. They were careful to avoid stepping on any sprawling black vines— it was a hivemind after all, and they weren’t ready to trigger a reaction and alert these creatures of their location, not just yet.
His eyes kept glancing around, antsy, hands clutching his weapon tightly. At some point his gaze wandered to fix on Will, watching his friend’s expression closely for any sign of something being wrong. It remained firm and emotionless. He squinted a little, trying to check for something, to see if his veins looked darker than normal or if his eyes were bloodshot, but it didn’t appear so. That was a good thing, wasn’t it? He was being paranoid.
“Alright, Wheeler!”, Robin’s energetic voice pulled him out of his spaced out state — Jesus, how long had he just been staring at Will? — and made him look up. “We’re at our hotspot”. Hawkin’s Presbyterian Church stood there clear as daylight, albeit stained with filth and wrapped with slimy black vines that climbed up its white walls and swarmed it like ivy. Mike smiled grimly.
He walked up with those familiar steps, Robin creaking the grimy wooden doors open and everyone slipping inside as quietly as possible, praying there wasn’t something already waiting for them in there. Thank God — that felt appropriate for this situation — there wasn’t, and they all safely crowded inside the ominous building, watching outdoors closely.
He took in the sight of the place — rows of chairs further down, the pastor's usual stage and pulpit, pillars wrapped with trailing supernatural plants ascending up to the ceiling, wooden crosses adorning the room. A large picture of Jesus Christ hung up on the wall, now tainted by thin vines beginning to snake up the art piece, stared eerily down at him. The holy father’s gaze felt harsh, judgmental, like it knew there was something wrong with him. Mike swallowed and looked away.
“Ready to draw these things over?”, Nancy voice cut through the heavy silence, catching everyone’s attention.
Mike’s head dipped into a nod and he was quick to start rummaging in the pocket of his camo jacket until his hand found the cool metal handle of his knife, pulling it out. Everyone had been given switchblades to tuck away for this moment, knowing they’d need a lot of blood if they wanted to attract as many of the demo-creatures as possible and make a real dent in the strength of Vecna’s army. He pressed his thumb down and the shiny silver blade flicked up, gleaming in the murky darkness of the church. He extended his other hand, pressing the sharp edge to the soft skin on his palm and then looking up to see if everyone else was ready.
Steve had his knife out too, though he had a much more reluctant look on his face. “Y’know, is it really necessary for all of us to do this? I mean, can’t we just, like, slam the handles of our guns on the walls or something? Attract the demo’s with noise? These walls look like.. like they’d thump pretty loud. Just, give ‘em a boink—“.
Dustin shot him an annoyed glare and cut him off. “Demogorgons are apex predators driven by bloodlust, Steve. They’re not drawn over by guns thumping. They’re like sharks, they smell blood and know it means potential prey”, his voice was gratingly patronising and Mike held back a smirk. “And the larger the amount of blood, the more we’ll attract”.
“Right, Henderson, it’s just—“, Steve began to counter.
“Guys!”, Jonathan snapped in exasperation, which, by the look on her face, his sister seemed to share. “Are we gonna do this?”.
That ended the bickering immediately and after a beat of silence, everyone pressed the blades into their palms and carefully drew small cuts down their flesh. Mike winced only slightly, watching as dark red blood welled up on the line and then began dripping out, warm against his cold skin.
“Shit”, Steve hissed, shaking his hand after he’d done it and clicking the blade back away with an annoyed expression.
“Want me to kiss it better, Stevey-boo?”, Robin teased, grinning at her friend. Harrington rolled his eyes, wasting no time in responding with a sarcastic quip.
The metallic tang in the air was apparent even to him, and he imagined it would be about ten times stronger for the monsters nearby. While Robin and Steve’s bickering faded into the background, Mike found his head turning towards Will again, who was standing by him. The brunette stared down at the cut on his hand, brows furrowed slightly and shoulders rigid.
“You feeling okay about this?”, he asked in a gentle tone, nudging the other boy. “You don’t have to push your powers, you know. They’re still new. You should be careful. We'll be able to handle most of it with our flamethrowers and bats and daggers and.. whatnot”.
“No, it’s okay, I want to help”, Will insisted, looking up at him. Mike searched his eyes and recognised just a little of that usual spark. “I can control them. I’m a sorcerer, right?”. His friend gave him a lopsided smile after that and he hated the way his heart stuttered in his chest.
“Right, yeah — a — a sorcerer, totally. The most badass sorcerer there’s ever been, it’s just—”, he stumbled over his words before swallowing, looking at Will with worried eyes and lowering his voice. “I think it might be best if you hold them off until an emergency. We’ve both seen how bad it can get when the Hivemind.. leaks into you too much. Remember ‘84?”.
“Come on, this is different. You think I’m possessed by an otherworldly spirit?”, the other boy raised his eyebrows, tucking his knife away.
“No. But, remember, in DnD, there’s the eye of Vecna, that lets you harness his abilities. And the more you use it, the more he can take control”.
“That’s in DnD, Mike, not real life”, Will cut him off, shooting him a look that seemed so much colder and harder than his usual self it made him freeze. “I barely managed to reassure mom that I was fine to go on this mission. I don’t wanna go through that again with you. I’m not a baby, I can handle myself”.
Mike started to panic a little, realising Will was taking his concern the wrong way. “I didn’t mean it like—“.
A low, chittering growling sound came from outside and everyone snapped around in unison, staring out the set of doors. Two four-legged figures approached slowly, and a bolt of lightning struck in the sky, briefly elucidating the creatures in silver and showing their slimy, reptilian bodies, bony limbs and closed flower-like heads. Demo-dogs.
Lucas wasted no time in raising his weapon, ready to fire. “Come and get us, shitheads!”.
The monster closer to them flapped its head open, revealing the fleshy inside and rows of razor sharp teeth. It made a hissing, spitting sound and then began charging at them. Instantly Lucas squeezed the trigger, opening the valve, and a long burst of flames shot out, shrouding the creature in burning red ochre. It screeched, halting in its tracks and thrashing its head from side to side before turning and pelting away, still on fire. The group let out mutual yells and hoots of celebration.
The other demo-dog wasn’t swayed, standing in a moment of what might have been hesitation before shrieking, flashing its fangs and then running at them. Steve stepped to the front and as soon as it was close enough swung his bat, hitting the sensitive inside of its head and making it growl, closing its flaps. He swung again, tearing its flesh, and it stumbled back slightly before crouching and steadying its haunches, preparing to pounce.
Before it could it was flung back, flying through the air and hitting the ground hard ten feet away from them. The dog began scrabbling to its feet once again but quickly, its neck was snapped, and it collapsed limply.
Mike turned and saw Will with his hand extended. Shit, he looked awesome, but he was using his powers already?
He didn’t have time to interject as another demo-dog appeared fast from the shadows, running towards them full speed, and Will turned his head towards it. Both its front legs buckled, torn at the joints, and its neck snapped too. It fell, crumpling next to the other monster's body.
“Colour me impressed, Byers..”, Robin muttered, turning towards the boy with a smile. Mike didn’t share the enthusiasm.
“Will”, he hissed, clutching his flamethrower. “We can kill them with fire, save your strength!”.
Suddenly shadows were cast over them and there was a loud shrieking and flapping sound, something bursting through the front doors. He looked up, and saw two twisted bat-like creatures with long, spiked wings and gaping mouths had glided into the church, flying above them. “What the hell are those!?”, he exclaimed, backing off and readying his weapon.
“Shit.. fucking bats!”, Dustin’s horrified wide-eyed expression had familiarity dawning on it, he’d clearly seen these before.
One of them swept in on Nancy before he could process what was happening, and terror accelerated inside of him. Immediately Jonathan and Steve both charged, swinging their respective dagger and spiked bat at the creature, yelling at the top of their lungs while Nancy thrashed to get it off her.
Jonathan drove his blade into the bat's body, and it let out a snarling groaning noise, unhooking its claws from her curls and lifting itself back into the air next to the other one, each flap of their large wings sending breezes of air over everyone. Mike didn’t hesitate to aim and fire at the bat that had attacked his sister, everyone else ducking as the trail of glowing burning heat shot up and hit the monster.
Its body was quickly engulfed in flames and he let go of the trigger, panting and watching as it flew erratically and shrieked, bumping into the walls of the church and convulsing before finally crashing through one of the large tinted windows, sending glass shards shattering as it retreated outside. He guessed it wouldn’t make it far.
Seconds later he felt a gust of wind and then felt something hook into his beanie, yanking it over his head and pulling it off, all his messy black hair flopping out. Mike turned around in alarm before a sharpness dug into his shoulder, and then his other shoulder, and he let out a cry of pain as talons sunk into his flesh and wings flapped in his face, obscuring his vision and making him stumble forward, reaching his arms up to try and get it off him.
Before anyone even had to raise their weapons an invisible force lifted the demo-bat off him and dragged it back up into the air. His shoulders still burned and he could feel that they were wet with blood but relief filled him nonetheless.
Mike whirled around and watched as the frail bones in its wings broke and made them sag down, the twisted limbs at the bottom of its body snapped and tore, and finally its head was jolted back, neck breaking. Will dropped it to the ground after that, huffing for breath and trembling slightly, his nose bleeding and hand out. Incredible, Mike thought to himself, despite his worry.
“Will..”, Lucas managed to get out between heavy breaths, turning to look at Will who was facing away from everyone else, staring at the dead bat, his shoulders rising and falling fast as he panted. “Don’t overdo your powers, we’ll need them in case a demogorgon attacks”. He was grateful that finally someone else in the group was agreeing with his concerns. The strain of killing two demo-dogs and a demo-bat within the span of just a few minutes can’t have been good for his mind.
Will didn’t respond, his arm falling back down by his side, but body remaining still. A silence fell over the group, everyone exchanging concerned glances.
“Byers?”, Robin prompted, again receiving no reply.
Mike was about to step forward but Jonathan beat him to it. “Hey, buddy”, the man spoke as he approached Will with steady footsteps, tone gentle and easy. “Do you wanna take a rest break, sit down on those seats for a bit and recharge? We can handle whatever comes out till you’re ready again”. The boy didn’t respond and so Jonathan reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.
Only then did Will tense before snapping around and, with unusual strength, smacking Jonathan hard across the face, sending his brother stumbling back with a bust lip, his weapon clattering to the floor. Gasps rang out and Nancy jumped forward to grab Jonathan before he hit the ground, holding onto him and staring in shock.
Mike’s stomach dropped. Will’s fists were clenched, his eyes now a dark ebony, the veins in his neck prominent and black. His chest rose and fell rapidly as his frantic breathing wasn’t slowing.
He didn’t blink, staring at the group in front of him with chilling intensity. “Stay.. stay away from me”, he uttered, but beyond the coldness in his voice there was a slight waver, like he was scared, warning them.
“Will?”, Dustin said, obviously trying to hide the fear in his voice. “It’s us. What’s going on?”.
Mike’s gaze trailed to the side. He made eye contact with Jonathan and Nancy. The three of them shared a terrified, knowing look. They’d seen him like this before. Only they could imagine Will would be even more powerful this time as Vecna had gained strength.
Will took a staggering step forward and everyone moved back. “Get out of here! Now!”, he snapped, body quivering hard and — Mike could swear he saw some tears brimming in his friend’s eyes. The lights in the church, which had previously been inactive and dead, suddenly lit up, beginning to flicker rapidly over their heads.
Steve was already edging towards the door, looking like he wanted to book it the hell out of there fast. Mike swallowed and gave one last attempt. “Will—“.
Before he could get another word out Will interrupted him. “Run!”. Another step forward. The lights flickered faster and faster. “RUN!”, the scream was guttural, the boy’s voice shaking, every last ounce of his humanity poured into it.
That pushed everyone over the edge. Panicked gasps and shared frantic looks spread across the entire group and Steve was the first to run out the door, Robin right behind him. Nancy followed suit, dragging Jonathan along with her. Dustin and Lucas, with petrified expressions, were out the door next, their shoes pounding across the ground to get away.
And every instinct in Mike’s body screamed at him to follow his friends. Every ounce of common sense in his brain told him that this was dangerous.
But despite that, his feet remained rooted to the floor, unable to tear his gaze away from Will. He couldn’t run away and leave him. He couldn’t.
He could hear shouts from behind him but he didn’t turn to look. “Mike!”, Lucas's voice rang out. “What the hell are you doing? Mike!”.
Those noises got drained out as suddenly the vines swarming the building began to slither and move from both sides, wrapping around the doorframe of the church. Only when he heard the sound of the door banging shut did Mike turn his head, seeing the doors both now sealed shut by the slimy roots.
“Michael”.
He turned back around, facing ‘Will’. The boy looked far calmer than before, his dark eyes glinting in the dimness of the church as the flickering lights slowed to a stop. He looked almost bemused.
“Will”, Mike’s voice came out sounding much smaller and frailer than he’d intended. His gun slipped from his hands, clattering to the ground next to him. He wanted to appear as unthreatening as possible. “I.. I know you’re still there”.
Will’s lips quirked into a smile and he tilted his head. “He can’t hear you, Michael. You were a fool to stay”, his voice made Mike feel sick, it was a strange and inhuman blend between the boy he knew and something deep and gravelly, echoing behind it and giving it an unsettling reverb.
He clenched his fists, feeling brave enough to take an uncertain step closer. “He can. I know he can, you bastard. We broke him free of you before and we’ll do it again”.
“We? I see only one boy in front of me. You’ve left yourself vulnerable”. Will took a step closer as well and he could feel his courage wavering as he desperately resisted moving back and trying to pry the doors open. “William doesn’t want to come back. His mind — it simply wasn’t made for this world. Minds like his are the kinds I can shape and remould into something beautiful. And that mind gave in, crumbled, to become part of me, part of my army”.
“You’re lying”, Mike spat, his gut twisting in anger at the way this creature spoke of his best friend, the way it claimed there was any beauty in what it was doing. He knew Will. He knew at least a fragment of him was still in there to hear his words. “He killed those demogorgons. He’ll kill you too”.
Will laughed — a harsh, grating, cold sound. “He did kill them. And in doing so, did exactly what I wanted”. He shuddered, heart thrumming against his ribcage, unsure of whether to believe Vecna or not. “This new connection we share was the final jigsaw piece slotting itself into place. The final part I needed”. He flexed both his hands, showing the dark purpleish-black veins running down the skin, before clenching them into fists once more.
“No.. no, Will unlocked them by himself. He did it to save me, to save Robin, and Lucas”, Mike insisted, though his voice wavered and a dread was setting into his bones that what he’d predicted was exactly true.
“And now he has tethered himself to me in a way that cannot be broken”, his friend — no, not really his friend, the creature using him as a puppet, spoke. “The body of Henry Creel is beginning to fail. A rotting mound of flesh can only be re-strengthened so many times before it begins to grow.. incompetent. I’ve been searching for a new host”. ‘Will’ tilted his head down, observing the body he was standing in, before raising it again and staring right at Mike. “And this one fell right into my hands”.
Mike’s heart dropped as he realised what the creature was saying. He’d said it to Will himself — that he was like him, Vecna. He’d had good intentions but this.. thing.. meant it in the worst possible way, it wanted to shape Will into the worst possible being.
He shook his head, backing off. “No. He’s not your host. He’s — you’re — you’re Will Byers. You live in Hawkins, Indiana. I’m — I’m your best friend, Mike, short for Michael, please, you have to remember me —“.
“Best friend”, the creature retorted, voice dripping with disdain. “Is that what you really want to say? Do you think that’s what he wants to hear?”.
His breathing grew faster, eyes darting around for an escape and before he knew it his back hit the wooden door. “I — I don’t know what you mean. Please, your name is Will, you’re still in there! Your birthday is — it’s—“.
‘Will’ began to take strides towards him, dark eyes narrowed into a glare teeming with sheer hatred and body tense and rigid like a soldier going into battle. He recalled the strength in his smack to Jonathan, and that was before he’d even been fully possessed.
Hurriedly, Mike stumbled away from the doors and ran through the rows of seats, weaving between them, hearing loud footsteps follow him. While trying to escape his hand instinctively dove into his jacket, shakily pulling out the pocket knife and clenching onto it in a shaky grip. He kept going until he reached the church stage, clambering onto the wooden podium, an impending sense of doom dawning over him as he saw that all the doors leading to the hallways outside the main prayer room had been sealed off by vines. He whirled back around to face his friend.
“Will”, he tried again, tears beginning to fill his eyes as the possessed boy calmly stepped up onto the pastor’s podium as well, now just inches apart from him. “You remember the day we met, don’t you? You were on the swings, by yourself, and I — I was by myself too. I came up to you, and I asked you to be my friend”.
Will stopped for just a moment. His ink eyes widened, a glimmer of light flashing in them for just a moment before they narrowed again. “He can’t hear you. Nothing you say matters anymore”, he spat out.
“I asked you to be my friend, and.. and you said yes”. He racked his mind. “And— do— do you remember Halloween night? We were in my basement, just us two, and we.. we said we’d go crazy together. You have to remember, you have to, crazy together, please, Will!”, it all tumbled out like word vomit as he could feel himself growing more and more frantic, looking into his best friend's eyes, searching, pleading for some sign that he was still in there.
The boy in front of him was still for a moment, glaring, wavering, before in a jittery movement, taking another step forward.
Mike’s hand jerked out and in a shaking grip he held out his pocket knife, the sharp edge pointed towards what had been his friend. His vision blurred. That made Will stop. He stood still, and smiled, just slightly. Taunting him. Daring him.
Mike stood like that for a long moment, breathing heavily. He knew the boy in front of him could kill him, would kill him. And then it could come after all his friends, all of his family. Use its new vessel to unleash destruction beyond what he could imagine. But the person standing in front of him was still Will. Still his body, his face, his eyes. There was a part of him still in there, one not under the control of the Mind Flayer, he knew it.
Slowly, his trembling arm fell back down to his side, the knife dangling uselessly in his loose grasp. He hardly registered it slipping from his fingers and hitting the ground beside him. “I can’t”, he choked up. Pathetic.
The boy in front of him smiled. That had clearly been the reaction it was anticipating. In one long stride it cleared the space between them and its hand shot out, grabbing the front of his jacket, bunching it up in his fist and shoving Mike against the pastor's pulpit, sending another aching pang through his injured shoulders. He could see the strength surging through his friends veins and his breathing exhilarated in fear.
“Will, come on, it’s me!”, he was near sobbing, salty tears rolling down his cheeks and hitched gasps making his shoulders heave, “there’s.. there’s more I want to say, there always has been, I— I..”.
With his free hand, Will drew back his fist and without warning it collided with his face, causing a burning pain to spread all across his features. He instantly felt something warm dripping down his nose bridge as he began to bleed. He coughed, shaking his head, more tears falling.
He could taste warm metacillness in his mouth and he swallowed it away, looking into his best friend’s cold glare with desperation. “Please! When I said all— all those years ago that asking you to be my friend was the best thing I’d ever done, I meant it, I did!”.
Will raised his fist once more and again brought it down hard against his face, with strength his friend would normally never possess. Pain blinded him for a moment and he could feel his left eye going swollen in what would definitely turn into a nasty bruise, the coppery flavour of blood resting on his tongue. But still, he let himself be complacent, limp in his friend’s grip, not making any moves to push Will off him, to try and fight back, to try and do anything but look into his eyes and talk. He couldn’t do that to Will. He couldn’t hurt him in any way, even when he was in this state.
“There.. there’s no one I care about more than you, Will”, he wheezed, care. Even now he couldn’t say it. Dammit, Mike. He could barely focus on the person in front of him as tears and blood blurred his vision, but he was able to process his hand lifting for yet another brutal punch and the words began clumsily falling out of his lips, like someone else was speaking for him.
He remembers the day they first met on the swing set, their first sleepover, each shared look and hushed conversation, fleeting memories of Will helping him up when he fell off his bike or letting him copy his homework when he forgot to do it the night before.
He remembers the aching pain he’d felt inside him that week he was missing, the way he’d refused to leave his side the year after, the way he’d forced himself to distance from Will the next Summer even when it made his chest ache with longing. He remembers the box of unsent letters hidden beneath his bed. He remembers every mistake he made, pushing away the boy he loved, destroying everything all because of his insecurity, his incompetence.
He can’t let himself fail Will. Not again. Not now.
“You’re.. you’re the most special person in the world. I— I love you! Please! I love you!”.
Mike saw Will hesitate for just a moment, and there it was again, anyone else would’ve missed it, but he was able to see the way those dark eyes controlled by something else entirely widened just a little, the way a thin, barely noticeable line of tears wobbled at the bottom of them. Then, a hard swing hit him once again and he felt his bottom lip tear, blood spattering, and his vision spun with stars.
Next thing he knew the hands grasping his jacket yanked him harshly to the side and threw him to the ground, the back of his head hitting the wooden stage beneath him hard and making him groan in pain. Will’s weight was on top of him next, straddling him, his stony expression and wild eyes staring down at him, and his hands went from holding his coat to wrapping around his neck, fresh strength flowing through those dark purple veins.
Instantly Mike began to squirm, hands coming up to try and pry at his friend's wrists, but it was completely useless. The ringing in his head intensified and he could feel his windpipe being squeezed, barely able to suck small breaths in. “Will, come on, I know you’re.. in there..”, he croaked, not breaking eye contact even as he felt the chokehold beginning to grow tighter and tighter. “I love you, I—”.
He cut himself off with a final hitched gasp, his throat being crushed too much for him to get a single word out. He couldn’t feel the pain in his face, it had been reduced to a dull throbbing numbness. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen reaching his brain messing with his nervous system. All he cared about in that moment was trying to bring Will back.
He blinked back his tears and kept looking into Will’s eyes, using the last of his energy to shakily lift one of his arms and, without really knowing what he was doing, rest it against the boy’s face, cupping his cheek. He noticed how he could feel a wetness rolling down Will’s face against the tips of his fingers. He was crying, too.
Will was still in there.
Mike kept that hold, looking up at him and praying for a miracle even as darkness crept into the corners of his vision and he could feel his consciousness slipping away.
For a heartbeat, nothing changed, and everything was starting to go numb, the world tilting to the side.
Then Will’s grip faltered.
It was subtle at first, just a tremor running through his arms, his fingers loosening like they’d forgotten what they were meant to do.
His eyes flickered, the dark, glassy sheen cracking as his breath hitched. A broken sound tore from his throat and suddenly the pressure was gone, hands flying away from Mike’s neck as if burned.
Mike sucked in air greedily, chest heaving as he coughed and gasped, the world rushing back in all at once.
Above him, Will sat up starkly, staring down at his own hands like they didn’t belong to him. The purple veins faded, the cold rage draining from his face, leaving only horror and grief in its wake.
“Mike,” Will whispered, voice wrecked. “Oh my god— I— I didn’t—”
Mike barely heard the words. He was still catching his breath, throat burning, but his hand never left Will’s cheek. He tightened his fingers there, grounding them both. Will leaned into the touch like he needed it to stay upright, tears spilling freely now as he shook his head over and over.
“I’m here,” Mike rasped, barely audible. “You’re back. You’re okay.”
Will let out a shaky sob, then another, and before either of them really understood what was happening, he collapsed forward, pressing his forehead to Mike’s. They stayed like that, breathing each other in, the space between them charged and fragile and unbearably quiet.
When Will finally lifted his head, their eyes met— wide, searching, alive.
And then Mike raised his head up, just slightly, and closed the distance.
The kiss was clumsy and sudden, born from relief more than thought, lips crashing together as if to make sure the other was real. Will froze for half a second, then melted into it, hands fisting into Mike’s jacket as he kissed him back, desperate and soft all at once.
His bust lip didn’t stop bleeding and as he huffed and panted into the kiss he could taste the metallic blood from his own mouth mixing into Will’s, but neither seemed to care, deepening it and keeping their mouths locked together like the word depended on it.
His hand came up to Will’s head, fingers tangling into the other boys hair, every ounce of longing and hating himself and trying to push away the feelings he’d long been convinced by society and by his own brain were wrong being poured into it.
If the portrait of Jesus Christ was watching them with a stern glare, disapproving of their disgusting sinfulness, he didn’t have it in him to care.
They broke apart with a gasp, foreheads touching again, breaths mingling as they stared at each other in stunned silence.
Will’s mouth was stained with redness from being pressed into his beaten up face, his hair a disheveled mess and shirt visibly stuck to his body with sweat through where his jacket was unzipped. And yet Mike thought he looked beautiful, mesmering. He almost wanted to kiss him again on the spot.
His friend smiled weakly through his tears. “You… you saved me.”
Mike swallowed, hand sliding down again and his thumb brushing gently beneath Will’s eye, touch tender as a rose petal. “I couldn’t have left you”.
Then his smile faded from his face and the bone shattering guilt that came across it felt like a stab to his own heart. “Shit, Mike, you’re hurt. I’m sorry, I could see it happening but it was like— like I wasn’t there, like I was watching my own life from the third person. I couldn’t stop it, I’m sorry-“.
“Hey, hey”, he reassured quickly, voice dropping an octave into something soft and gentle. He propped himself up on his elbows, ignoring how all his joints ached when he did, and came to rest his hands on Will’s shoulders as his friend also leaned back. “It’s not your fault Will, do you understand? It isn’t. That— that thing was controlling you. None of this happened because of you”.
Will swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “You didn’t try to fight back. I was - I was hitting you, and.. and choking you and you just- just..”.
“Will”, he said, not a waver of uncertainty in his voice. Their eyes met, Mike’s own trusting brown pair looking up at his watery hazel ones. “How could I have fought back? I would never do anything to hurt you. Never again. I promise I’m always gonna be here, okay?”. He gasped, catching a breath between words. “And.. and I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner. I was a coward. I’m just.. I’m sorry, Will”.
Will’s shoulders shook, a hitched sob coming out of his mouth and seconds later his friend's arms were wrapped around him, his head resting by the crook of his neck.
A year before this Mike likely would’ve tensed up and got awkward and avoided the hug, but not this time. Without hesitation he melted into it, his own arms coming up to squeeze Will as tightly as he could. Their bodies press together, solid and grounding, their heads of hair brushing against one another’s cheeks, and he curled his fingers into Will’s coat, gripping him like he might fade away if he let go.
Both of them stayed like that for a moment, breathing heavily at first before it began to ease down to something more laboured and slow.
Mike was the first to break that silence. “Did.. did you hear everything I said to you? While you were..”.
Slowly and gently Will pulled back from the hug, and nodded, breaths coming ragged and uneven but a warmth in his red rimmed eyes, a happiness he hadn’t seen in a long time.
“I meant it”, he uttered, voice trembling but still firm. “Every word of it”.
Will sucks in a sharp breath, chest rising and falling fast, his lips spreading into a wobbly smile again. “I love you too, Mike”, his voice comes out as a small croak yet those words are enough to make his chest clench and hurt, not with fear but with relief and joy. Something warm blossoms in his gut, like a flower finally spreading its petals.
He wants to tumble into Will again and tangle their limbs together and hold him close and breathe him in and make up for every time he’d avoided this, put it off, tried to pretend it wasn’t there. Will’s lips are slightly parted, still glistening and blood stained from their previous kiss, and he’s so perfect he craves grabbing his face and slotting their mouths together and never breaking it.
They’re both sat there staring like they’re in some sort of trance for what feels like forever before something makes both their heads snap around in unison.
Fists banging at the door, muffled but insistent voices from outside.
Will’s shoulders sag, all tension leaving them, and at the same time the vines binding the church doors shut loosen, slithering away.
Instantly the set of doors fly open, revealing Nancy with Dustin, Lucas and a few other figures who he can’t make out stood behind her. His sister is initially stood firmly, feet squared and her gun raised, but she relaxes when she sees they’re both just knelt on the ground, not in immediate danger.
He and Will don’t move as the group burst in, running towards them with stunned expressions, obviously struggling to process the sight of the two boys sitting holding each other on the church stage, Mike’s face a bloodied mess.
Nancy skids to a stop first, her mouth dropping open and a small wheezy gasp leaving it before any words make it out. “Mike.. I.. what the hell happened?”.
He licked his lips, face already starting to feel uncomfortably stiff and sore. He drew a ragged breath in and out. “Will’s safe now”, was the simplest answer he could to rasp out. He paused before elaborating, “he.. he’s himself. Not controlled”.
Jonathan stepped forward next, his eyes wide as he took in the dishevelled appearance of his brother before reaching down and taking ahold of his forearm, helping the teen stumble to his feet. Jonathan’s hand came to rest on the small of Will’s back, a reassuring touch as the boy’s breathing grew heavy again. “Hey, hey, are you ok?”. Will managed a nod.
Nancy moved closer and did the same for him, gripping his shoulder in a way that was firm but not painful and grabbing his waist with her other hand to help him stagger up, legs wobbling and vision blurring for a moment when he did.
She glances at his face, and then at Will, and then back at him. She seems to piece things together but doesn’t say it. “We.. we need to radio El and Hopper, let them know the plan needs delayed”.
Mike nodded, jittery, and his chest tightened and he coughed just once, harsh and heavy, and shit his throat hurt, it felt like it was full of glass shards prodding his flesh. Those marks would probably bruise later. It didn’t matter now.
“Right. We need a walkie”. His eyes flicker over to Will who’s standing his own now, though still close to Jonathan’s side. “And Will can’t use his powers again. It’s not safe. We hold the monsters off with our weapons”.
Just then a guttural screech comes from outside, somewhere in the distance, making the group in the church tense. It’s a reminder — they still have to fight.
“Got it”, Dustin said, solid and brief, before delving his hand into his jacket pocket and slipping out his walkie talkie. “I’ll call Eleven”.
Despite everyone’s shaken state, things start going into motion again, their stiff and sore feet beginning to move down the long carpet of the church.
He and Will linger at the back, slowing to walk next to each other. Their shoulders brush, and Mike turns his head towards Will. His eyes glisten with a beautiful warmth, that cold soullessness purged from them, and even if the world is ending they both manage a smile, their fingers coming close but not quite entwining.
A fresh determination has planted itself in his chest. He wouldn’t lose Will. Never again.