Chapter Text
Will wasn’t having a good night's sleep tonight. His side hurt where he lay, and his neck felt stiff and twisted. Had his bed always been this cold and hard?
Something was creeping up his leg; it felt freezing and slimy, like a vine.
A familiar chill went up his spine. The smell, the darkness, the cold.
He shut his eyes harder; he didn’t want to open them. Maybe this was just a bad dream. He couldn’t possibly be back there.
The thing was twisting around his ankle, sliding up all the way to his knee, when he was yanked.
He finally opened his eyes only to see darkness. He was being dragged through dirt and branches. His mouth was open, screaming, but he couldn’t hear himself; he only felt his throat going raw and his lungs struggling to keep up. His hands were outstretched, trying to grab onto something, anything, but everything was so slippery and disgusting, and he was going too fast.
Things were scratching his body as he struggled to stop himself from being taken again. His face was wet with grime and tears and blood. Was this it? Had he survived for so long just to be taken in his sleep? He was still screaming, but no one would come, no one could hear him.
And as the thing dragging him pulled him down into the earth, down into his doom, he reached his hand one last time; he tried to grab something, someone, anything, but nothing could save him this time.
He went under.
“WILL! BABY! WAKE UP!”
Will gasped as he opened his eyes. He sat up immediately, looking around frantically. Someone’s voice was calling his name, but it felt far away, muffled. His eyes were desperately scanning the room, his brain struggling to keep up with his surroundings, with the noises, the smells.
“You’re okay, baby, you’re here, you’re safe.”
He knew that voice; it had been his lifeline many times.
He finally looked into the eyes of the woman before him. His mother, eyebrows furrowed and hands cupping his face, was sitting right in front of him on his bed. His bed. They were in his room. Light was coming through the shades and illuminating the place. The sun felt warm where it hit his skin, and his breathing started to slow down.
“Mom?”
“Yes, honey, are you alright?”
It was just a dream, he thought to himself. He was fine; this had happened many times before.
“Yes, sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, honey. What happened? Was it another nightmare?”
He hated this, he hated talking about it, and he hated worrying his mom. He’d try to conceal his episodes as much as he could, but sometimes, he couldn’t control them.
“I’m fine, mom, don’t worry.” He said as he tried to get up from his bed.
“Will-“ Joyce’s voice was worried, pleading.
“I mean it, mom, it’s fine, I just- I just had a bad dream, that’s all.” He wasn’t lying about the last bit, but this particular one had been haunting him for some time now.
He knew he should probably tell his mom, but not right now; he could deal with this on his own.
The morning went by quietly.
His mom and Jonathan buzzed around the kitchen, making small talk about breakfast and jobs. Will stayed silent, looking down at his barely eaten eggs. He only nodded when Joyce asked him if he was ready to go, and grinned quickly when Jonathan hugged him goodbye. They didn’t press him to talk.
It was bittersweet, really. He appreciated the way his family had learnt not to push him after one of his nightmares, but it also meant that it had happened enough times for them to form a protocol of sorts. He couldn’t help but feel guilty about it; he never meant to change their routines or to worry them so much.
The car ride was also quiet, even if his mom did try to make some conversation on the way to school; she always tried. Will answered dryly now and then, but he mostly just nodded at whatever Joyce was commenting on.
Will was lost inside his head. His brain kept replaying the nightmare, the sensation of cold, wet things scratching him and filling his lungs.
His body was on autopilot, getting out of the car and traversing the school campus while his mind was somewhere else, somewhere darker.
He flinched instinctively when a hand landed on his shoulder.
“Will! Oh, are you okay?” Mike said as Will quickly turned around to look into his best friend’s eyes.
“Mike! Uh, yes, I’m okay.” His voice came out a bit nervous. He didn’t like lying to Mike, but he really didn’t want to worry anyone else today.
Mike dropped his hand to his side, but a concerned expression was now infiltrating his features.
Great.
“Are you sure? Do you need anything?”
Will’s heart warmed up a little; he didn’t know why, it just happened sometimes when Mike talked to him like that.
Will had never realized it before; to him, that was just the way Mike spoke. But one time, during a stupid argument with the rest of the party mid campaign, Lucas had accused Mike of using his “Will voice”.
“Come on, man, just admit it!” Lucas’ voice was exasperated; they’d been going on about this for at least 15 minutes now. “Your favoritism is bleeding into the campaign!”
“What? I don’t have any favoritism! What are you even talking about?” Mike replied, voice pitched and defensive.
“Dude, you know I hate to say it, but Lucas is right- no, no, it doesn’t bother us, but you’re clearly favoring Will right now.” Dustin’s matter-of-fact tone indicated that this was the absolute, honest truth.
“That’s not true! I don’t have favorites, and Will’s just been rolling high today, that’s it.”
Mike had a slight blush on his cheeks, but none of the others commented on it.
Will just quietly observed them. His eyes were going back and forth between the speakers.
“Come on, Will, tell them!” Mike’s wide eyes were on him now.
“Yeah, tell us, Will, tell us how he’s been treating you differently.”
“I’m not!”
“You are!” Lucas and Dustin yelled at the same time.
“There’s no way out of this one, Mike, you were using your Will voice and all.” Lucas added to his statement.
‘Will voice?’
“Will voice?” Mike asked, voicing Will’s own thoughts.
“Yeah, dude, your voice goes all soft when you talk to him!”
“Does it?” Dustin asked, receiving a slap on the arm from Lucas.
Now, Will’s face felt warm, too. He felt slightly embarrassed that this whole conversation was even happening.
“Guys… It’s alright, we’re about to enter this cave anyway. Whatever happens in there is purely luck. Mike barely gets any say in there.” Will finally spoke up. All three boys turned to look at him.
“He’s right, guys. Besides, any second now, my mom’s about to come yell at us to go to bed.” Mike stated, trying to convince Lucas and Dustin, who looked at each other for a moment, considering whether or not to let this go, then nodded.
“Fine, but only because we need to be united right now.” Dustin said.
“But I’ll keep an eye on you, Wheeler.” Accusation radiated from Lucas’ voice when he spoke.
“Uh, no, no, I’m fine, don’t worry.” He replied, hoping that it would convince his concerned friend.
“Alright, if you say so, but if you need anything, just tell me, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Was he meant to feel guilty for the rest of his life? The last thing he wanted was to worry his friends, too, especially Mike.
The rest of the school day went by in a blur. He took some notes, but he didn’t remember anything he wrote. He got up from his desk and walked to the next class whenever he had to, but he did it on pure inertia. His friends talked to each other; sometimes they talked to him, but he couldn’t remember if he replied to anything. He was too lost in thought, even here on the Rightside Up; his mind was back there, frightened.
He was too distracted to notice Mike’s eyes on the back of his head, watching him, trying to read his mind.
He’d kept a watchful eye on him all day, always alert in case Will needed anything. He tried to include him in conversation, but didn’t press if Will only nodded in response.
He understood Will had some bad days, but he hated seeing him so down, so quiet.
When their classes were over, they all walked out to the parking lot where their bikes were parked. Will was waiting near the road; his mom or Jonathan came to pick him up every day since he came back.
At first, he didn’t mind it. It made him feel safer when he was still too afraid to be alone for too long.
Now, it made him uncomfortable. It made him feel othered, fragile, different.
He knew it made his mom feel at ease, so he never complained.
“Hey, Will,” Mike was walking up to him as he spoke. “Do you want me to come by your house later today? I just started this new comic, and I think you’ll really like it. I can bring it to you, and we can read it together, if you want.”
Will looked up from the ground for the first time in hours. Mike was staring at him with a small grin on his face, and his eyes looked hopeful. Will didn’t know what to say; he didn’t want to inconvenience anyone more than he already had.
“But my house is the farthest from yours.” Is what came out.
“That’s fine, I-“
Mike was interrupted by Joyce’s car, which had just pulled up right behind Will.
The window rolled down to reveal a waving Ms. Byers.
“Hey, sweetie! Oh, hey Mike!”
Mike waved back with a tight smile.
“I have to go, see you around.” Will said as he opened the car door.
Behind Mike, Dustin, and Lucas yelled their hello’s to Joyce and their goodbyes to Will.
The latter just looked up at them and smiled softly as he locked the car door. Joyce waved enthusiastically at them as she started driving away.
“How was your day, honey? Are you feeling any better?”
“It was fine.” Was all he managed to say.
“I just want to be in my room today, if that’s okay.”
“Yes, of course, honey, that’s okay.” Joyce said, but Will could tell she was still worried.
Well, she’s perpetually worried, Jonathan once said to him. That brought a little smirk to his face.
When they got home, he went straight to his bedroom and curled up on his bed. He was facing away from the door, closing his eyes as he tried to keep his thoughts from going back there. He’d indulged in his nightmares all day, letting his fears go wild inside his head, but he was too exhausted now, and he just wanted to sleep peacefully.
He didn’t know how long he’d been lying there, fighting his own brain, when he heard a knock on his door.
“I told you I’m fine, mom.”
“Will, it’s me, can I come in?”
What?
“Mike?” He turned around to stare at the closed door for a second before getting up and opening it slowly. His face felt a little warm for some reason.
“Hey! I hope I didn’t wake you up. Your mom let me in.” Mike was standing there, his breathing a little fast, his backpack still on, and a big smile on his face.
“What- what are you doing here?” Will asked in confusion. He hoped it didn’t sound too harsh, because it was a genuine question.
“Well… I brought you the comic, as I said!”
“Oh, I didn’t think you would.” Will replied earnestly.
“Why?” Mike’s grin finally disappeared; instead, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.
“I don’t know… I just- I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
“Of course not, besides, I really think you’ll like this one.” His smile was back on his face as he pushed past Will and sat down on his bed.
Will stared dumbfounded at Mike from the door before closing it and walking towards the bed.
Mike had opened his backpack and was looking for something inside it as Will sat down next to him. He was still slightly out of breath, like he biked here faster than usual.
“Here, look,” He pulled out the famous comic book, showing it proudly to Will. “It’s called Martian Rangers, the leading guy is super strong, and the main villain is totally evil, look-“
Mike started going on about the story, the characters, the writing. He opened the comic on random pages and pointed at different illustrations, explaining what was so special about them.
Will sat there and listened. He loved listening to Mike speak about the things he was passionate about. He felt his heartbeat finally slow down, and for the first time today, he felt a sense of calmness. Mike’s voice had always had a calming effect on him; ever since they were little, he used to fall asleep sometimes whenever Mike was going on about some movie he watched, or about some new game his parents had bought him. Will could just close his eyes, a relaxed expression on his face as he listened.
His eyes went wherever Mike indicated them to go. To this page, to that character, to this dialogue. But sometimes, Will’s eyes went to Mike’s face. He noticed how his nose scrunched up whenever he talked about the villain’s deeds, or how his eyes would go wide when he explained a particularly riveting plot-twist.
“Which is exactly why I think you’ll love this.”
Mike finished his rant, looking expectantly at Will for a response. His eyes had a light to them, and Will could tell he really wanted Will to be into the story.
“Alright, I’ll give it a read.” He finally said as he took the book into his hands. He analyzed it for a moment before setting it down on his nightstand.
Both boys stared at it for a while, neither of them speaking as they sat next to each other.
Even though Will was feeling a bit better, he was still too shaken from his dream. He felt his thoughts going back to that place, to that feeling. His eyes trailed back to the floor, and his face fell into a somber expression again.
He felt a poke on his arm.
He was startled by it and looked to the culprit of such action.
“What is it?” Will asked.
Mike raised two fingers to his arm and poked him again.
Will stared at him, confused.
“What?”
Mike shrugged as he pouted, poking him again, this time on the side.
“Mike.”
He just raised his eyebrows, lifting his fingers again as if announcing his next attack.
Before he could strike again, Will playfully shoved him on the arm.
Mike grinned mischievously and shoved Will back with slightly more force.
Will was grinning now, too; an idea had crossed his mind. He slowly reached an arm behind him and carefully grabbed a pillow.
“I see what you’re doing, Byers.” Mike said as he slowly got up, putting his hands up in defense.
“I’m not doing anything.” Will said as his smile got wider.
“Oh, sure, then show me your-“
Before he could finish his sentence, Will smacked him on the face with a pillow.
Mike gasped, eyes going wide in shock, and a big smile growing on his face.
“It’s war, then.”
Will let out a little laugh, before Mike jumped onto the bed and grabbed a pillow too.
They threw them at each other for a while, chasing each other around the room as they laughed. They taunted each other as they fought, only to be smacked with a random plushie or pillow on the side of the head.
At some point, Will was kneeling on top of his bed, holding a pillow in his left hand and a shark plushie on the right. He had his arms raised menacingly, threatening to attack at the slightest provocation. Mike was doing a crouch-stance on the floor by the foot of the bed, arms raised in front of him in self-defense. Their hair was messy, their cheeks flushed, and their breathing agitated.
“Surrender, paladin, or I will strike you dead!” Will exclaimed from his high ground.
Mike was considering his options, looking around the room for any weapon (pillow).
He looked back at Will, a cocky grin settling in his face; he’d made a decision.
“Never!” He exclaimed as he pounced on Will, tackling him back onto the now trashed bed. Will yelled, getting caught by surprise as he fell on his back. The moment they hit the bed, Mike started laughing uncontrollably. Will stayed shocked for a moment before laughing too. Mike rolled off of him and onto his back next to Will, both boys shaking with laughter as they lay there, side by side.
His nightmare had long been forgotten, as his head was now flooded with Mike and his sweet laugh.
Their laughter died down eventually, but they stayed there, arms touching as they regained their breath. They were still smiling widely as they stared up at the ceiling.
“Thank you,” Will said without thinking.
Mike turned his face to look at him, a puzzled expression combining with his smile.
“For what?”
Will looked at him. He scanned Mike’s face for a moment. He’d always really liked his best friend’s freckles; they were like little constellations.
“For coming to visit.”
“Oh, of course, anytime.”
They stared at each other for a while, grins still plastered on their lips.
Will rarely ever felt this comfortable. In fact, he practically never did. There was always something that kept him on edge.
Even before he was taken, people would stare at him sometimes. Kids whispered behind his back, making fun of his clothes or his hair. They gave him weird looks whenever he walked too close to one of his friends, especially Mike.
When his father was still around, and Will was 8 or 9, Lonnie didn’t like it whenever Mike came to visit, said boys shouldn’t hold hands, shouldn’t hug each other, said only queers did shit like that.
Will never understood why he was doing anything wrong; he just liked being around his best friend, he liked colorful clothes, and he liked drawing instead of baseball.
Was that really so bad?
But things got worse after his mom and Hopper rescued him from the Upside Down.
Now, people stared at him because he was the zombie boy; the boy who had to be taken everywhere by his mother; who had a funeral but was still walking around, and, on top of it all, was still dressing in colors and walking ‘too close to Wheeler’.
He always felt watched, whether it be by an inter-dimensional being or by the people of Hawkins; he was perpetually looking over his shoulder.
But not when he was alone with Mike. With him, he could speak without fear of being laughed at. He could dress in costumes and be received with a ‘Whoa, cool!’ instead of being called names. He could close his eyes and not be paranoid about being hurt. He loved being around him, and he was so happy that, apparently, Mike enjoyed being around Will, too.
They stayed like that for a while, talking about whatever topic crossed their minds. They giggled occasionally or gasped whenever the other said something scandalous.
“I heard Jessie Jenkins was caught making out with some guy from the basketball team.”
“No way! Wasn’t she Dustin’s crush like a week ago?”
“Poor dude.”
They talked about the movies they watched over the weekend or the drawings that Will had been working on.
“You have got to show it to me!”
“It’s not even done yet!”
“It doesn’t matter! I bet it’s amazing.”
They talked for what felt like hours, and it might’ve been, because at some point, Joyce knocked on the door. She opened it slightly, just enough to peek her head through.
“Mike, sweetie, your mom called. She said she expects you at home by eight.” Her voice was sweet as she relayed the news.
“Oh! What time is it?” Mike asked as he sat up slightly.
Will looked at the digital clock on his nightstand.
“7:30,” He replied as he turned to look at a shocked Mike.
“What? I didn’t even notice! Um- thank you, Ms. Byers, could you tell her I’m on my way, please?”
Joyce nodded with a smile as she closed the door again.
“Shit.” Mike said as he got up hurriedly to put on his shoes.
Will sat there and looked at Mike as he struggled to tie his shoelaces fast enough.
He felt a slight pang in his heart; he didn’t want Mike to go yet.
“I thought it was still early! Oh, she’s gonna kill me when I get home.”
Will giggled a bit.
“Really? You’re laughing at my imminent death?” Mike asked incredulously.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine. You ignore her all the time.”
“Let’s hope you’re right, if you want to see me again, that is.”
He finally won the battle against his shoes, so he stood up and grabbed his backpack, which was currently lying on the floor.
‘I want to see you all the time.’ A voice in his head replied.
In real life, he kept quiet.
“Alright, I think that’s all,” Mike stated as he put his backpack on. “See you around, Will the Wise.” He smiled before turning to open the door.
“Wait! Your comic!” Will quickly grabbed it from the nightstand.
“Oh! You can keep it, I brought it so you could read it, remember?”
“Really? You said you were still reading it.”
“It’s fine, besides, I’ve already finished that issue.” Mike smiled smugly.
“Alright, thank you.”
Mike nodded once, looked at his best friend one last time, and walked out of his room.
Will listened as Mike said his goodbyes to his mom, closed the front door, and biked away.
He felt saddened by Mike’s sudden departure, but as he lay back onto his unmade bed, no distant screeches plagued his mind, no humid, freezing wind bit at his nose; just happy laughter and a warm shoulder touching his.