Chapter Text
Mike had fallen into quite a routine lately. He’d fall asleep at an ungodly hour, only to shoot awake when his parents’ latest screaming match got too loud. Who needed an alarm when this dysfunctional family worked like clockwork?
The day’s over, finally. It was another long and useless crawl that left him drenched and frozen to the bone thanks to the good-for-nothing rain. Mike hated the rain. Or at least now he did. When he was a kid, he loved it. He and Will would go outside in rain boots and whatever protective gear their parents could wrangle them into, and they’d play for hours. He would splash in puddles and help Will flip over rocks to find the bugs he seemed to find so fascinating. When it rained hard enough, Will got to stay the night. And what would they do with all that time? They’d make a pillow fort, claim they’d never sleep, and then promptly pass out with a comic book held between the two of them.
But now? He hated the rain. Nothing good ever happened in the rain. His eyes catch the window. It was raining like this when Will got taken… Mike stares. And he stares. His thoughts are moving as fast as the rain is falling. His eyes snap away when he feels a sharp pain in his shoulder. He hisses, biting his tongue between his teeth, and takes his jacket off to see the damage. He had snagged it on the crawl when he was fittingly crawling through the woods after Dustin had wrongly reported the placement of two guards by their usual watchtower.
Mike sighed. He truly couldn’t bring himself to care about it right now. He sits on the bed and tries to pry off the soaked boots with one hand. Luckily, he could already feel the splitting headache forming at the front of his skull, his eyes burning as he squeezed them shut, forcing a tight, unnatural breath through his nose. What a lovely fucking day.
He forced himself to sit back up and changed clothes, trying to dry his hair off and giving up when he felt it was already a tangled mess. He flopped back on the bed, which he promptly regretted as the sharp pain shot through his body. He turned his lamp off and stared at the ceiling. He sat there silently, his eyes open, but there was nothing to be seen except the dots that swirled around his vision. He could hear his parents’ bitter murmurs through the cursedly thin wall, but the only thing he really could hear was the growing static filling up his ears. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh as he let the static consume him and his thoughts.
Mike was drifting off, drifting through memories, until suddenly he was somewhere all too familiar. He was at the quarry. Looking down… and down… and down… except this time there’s no one around. No Dustin, no egotistical tweens, and no El to catch him. There’s no reason. Just a compulsion. He takes a step forward. His body tilting forward as he begins to fall, but he makes no noise; he doesn’t feel much of anything as his body plummets.
Suddenly, he’s submerged in water, his eyes open, vision blurry and distorted, but they focus on something. There’s a body in the water with him. He feels like he’s going to puke. It’s Will. Or… is it? It’s that cursed body they pulled from the lake. Mike had seen a lot of things, from demodogs chasing him for their newest meal to the gruesome details of military men torn limb from limb, their blood splattering onto him as he ran for safety with his ears covered like a coward. But this. This would haunt him until he finally took his last breath. This body, unnaturally pale as it slowly decomposed, was drifting in front of him. He slowly reached his hand out, but suddenly everything went black.
Mike shot up from his bed, nearly tumbling out of it. The fast movement supplied his vision with the all too familiar dots cursing his vision. He gasped for air that wouldn’t reach his lungs, holding onto his chest as he tried not to hurl. His alarm was going off, but the only thing he could hear was the ringing in his ears and the heartbeat that pulsed in his temples. He swallowed, his throat feeling like sandpaper, and his skin not feeling like his own. He was frozen to the bone, hands shaking as he stayed paralyzed on his bed.
Unfortunately, the world slowly returned around him and he could make out voices downstairs, as well as the banging on his door that seemed to have woken him up.
“Mike, if you want me to drive you to school you need to get your ass downstairs!” Nancy yelled. Or he thought it was Nancy. It was kind of hard to hear over the ringing in his ears.
“Just leave without me.” He called, his voice sounding terrible even in his own ears. He could feel each rasp and wheeze as his voice box seemed to try and claw itself to pieces, rattling in his throat with each slurred word.
“I can just ride my bike.”
“In the pouring rain?” Nancy asked with an exasperated huff.
Mike looked out the window to see that it was, in fact, absolutely pouring. Mike scrunched his nose. He just couldn’t catch a fucking break, could he?
“I’ll be down soon. Leave without me if you have to.” He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. That seemed to satisfy her enough, or piss her off enough, to leave, hearing the soft click of her footsteps fade.
He groaned and flopped back down on his bed, rolling over to slam his hand down on the alarm clock. He was late. It was a quarter to 7 and, with his track record? There was no chance he’d make it to school on time unless he left right now. Unfortunately, he stood up regardless, trying not to pass out, throw up, or immediately cough his lungs out, as much as his body pleaded for all three. He then rummaged through his closet for something wearable and slowly walked downstairs. Now left to his thoughts, they quickly replayed that lovely dream for him. This was fine. This was normal. He had been having the same dream for a week now, eventually it should stop, or at least stop bothering him. He coughed as his feet finally hit the steady floor.
The house was in chaos, his mother half-hazardously tossing down plates of food, the Byers family scattered to who knows where, Nancy scrambling for her keys and arguing with Dad about who knows what, and Holly sitting at the table quietly. She swayed gently, kicking her feet as she scribbled to her heart’s content, her new favorite book, “A Wrinkle in Time,” under her arm. She was heavily focused as she stuck out her tongue, eyes wide and alert. He took a step towards her before he heard his mother gasp.
“Mike! Honey! You look awful,” she said as concern knit her eyebrows together. She rushed towards him, putting a hand on his head. “Honey, you’re burning up.” Strange. Mike was frozen to the bone. And his mouth seemed to want to follow suit as his glassy eyes stared at the floor. He forced his lips apart, hating the feeling of them pulling themselves apart to form the words.
“I’m fine, Mom…” he tried to say as his lungs heaved under the effort of the three words formed, pushing at his throat and urging a gasp of air Mike refused to take.
His mother scoffed. “Fine, my ass, Michael. You are as pale as a ghost and look like the wind would knock you over!” She said in such a matter-of-fact tone that Mike didn’t exactly know what to say.
Nancy sighed as she walked between them to grab her keys. “He’s always like that, Mom—” she paused abruptly when she caught Mike’s eye out of the corner of her vision. “Jesus, you look like shit.”
“Language…” Ted grumbled from his seat at the table, snapping his newspaper to get it to stand straight.
Mike sighed. “You guys are overreacting. I’m fine.” He knew he was lying, and more importantly, he knew he wasn’t convincing. He felt like shit, and even more so than his usual morning misery.
Nancy sighed and left the room. He turned back to look at his mother. She was looking at him like a freshly cut open frog, eyebrows furrowed, lips downturned, and eyes seeming to already be dissecting him. She set her hand on her hip before seeming to have decided on her next step.
“You’re not going to school today.”
Mike sighed. Mike hated being babied. He was fine. And more importantly, if he stayed home, the guys were going to worry, and then now look. Suddenly, everyone’s worried about him while people are still being killed by some loose lab experiment with a god complex.
“I’m fine, Mom. I have to turn in my paper for lit—”
He was cut off by the aggressive shushing of his father. “Do us all a favor and stop talking. Your voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard.”
Mike let out a huff, which only turned into a fit of coughs, his posture slumping forward as he tried to stay steady.
“Wow. Thanks, Father. That’s so kind of you.” He said with as much dry wit as he could muster.
Ted didn’t seem to really pay attention, taking a bite of his eggs, and he kept his attention strictly on the newspaper in front of him. Mike rolled his eyes, immediately regretting the movement as he felt his eyes burn. Okay. So maybe he was sick.
Karen shot Ted an unnoticed, or blatantly ignored, glare. “Here, let me fix you a plate, and you can go back upstairs and get some rest.” She said as she turned from him, making his plate like she always did.
Holly had gotten up from her chair and scurried over to where Mike was, hand pulling at the leg of his sweatpants. He looked down at her with the best smile he could muster at the moment. He patted her head. “Watcha makin’, Holls?” he asked, his voice scratchy and his breath holding a wheeze. She happily showed her newest drawing of the DnD character currently on her necklace. Mike smiled and knelt down to get to her level, gently taking the drawing as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
He looked it over and ruffled her hair. “This is amazing, Holls! Is Will giving you secret lessons I don’t know about?” He teased lightly, gently tickling her ribs and making the girl giggle.
“I’ll never tell!” She said with an evil little snicker. “Soon I’ll be his favorite Wheeler!” She said excitedly.
Mike played mock offense. “Rude. Just because you’re the little artist in the family doesn’t mean you can just steal my best friend like that.” He said, trying to bite back too much of a grin.
Will, who always seemed to have such great timing, had come up from the basement. He was dressed and looking gorgeous as always. While Mike, on the other hand, looked like a terminally ill rat.
“What are you two yammering about?” he asked as he passed by, ruffling Holly’s hair on his way to grab a plate.
“Well, I was simply trying to inform Mike that I was winning!” She said happily.
“Winning what?” Will asked with a barely contained laugh.
“The competition to be your favorite Wheeler, of course!” She said matter-of-factly like it was obvious.
“Is that so? Well—” Will cut himself off when his eyes really settled on Mike for the first time. Mike could only imagine what he looked like at the moment.
“Mike…” he said with a mix of gentle caring and scolding. His eyebrows knitted together into a worried mix of concern and slight disapproval as he walked toward him, with Mike too enamored to speak. He gently grabbed his arm, keeping him in place as he put his hand on his forehead. His eyes fluttered closed at the warm touch, and before Mike could process his actions, he leaned against his hand. Normally, he would curse himself for taking advantage of Will’s kindness, but the only thing in his head was a dizzying mix of static and the dull ringing in his ears.
Will’s eyes widened slightly, an imperceptible blush rising to his face. He seemed to contemplate pulling away, but with Mike looking exhausted, he decided against it.
“Mike…” he said, concerned. “You need to go back to bed.” He said with that same gentle firmness.
Mike forced his eyes open, trying to focus on the suddenly very close face in front of him and not the blurry mess that was filling his peripheral vision. He didn’t like being babied like this. He was supposed to be the leader, the one in control. It’s what the others needed from him. But goddamnit did he crave it. He sighed.
“Will, I’m fine,” he said in a mumbled voice, trying to hide how the back of his throat burned at the words, and the embarrassing amount of effort it took to force them out.
Will huffed, seeming to be contemplating something behind those brown eyes. And goddamn were those eyes gorgeous, Mike could get lost in them. He always loved how he could read him so well through those big brown eyes. Like when he was drawing, he could see the focus in their slightly squinted demeanor, or how they lit up when he got the high score in the newest arcade game they had brought in, or how they’d soften when they were alone in his basement talking about whatever came to mind. If eyes were really windows to the soul, it really just showed how beautiful Will’s soul was.
Suddenly, he snaps back to the real world and notices that Will’s mouth was moving, but he couldn’t make out the words.
“Mike, are you even listening?” he asked, his voice a mix of both slight annoyance and concern.
Mike went bright red when he suddenly realized he had just been staring at him and daydreaming.
“Uh, yeah..! Of course,” he said with a nervous smile, sitting up straighter. A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Go back to bed, Mike.” He said in such a gentle and soft tone that it made Mike’s brain short circuit. He went red as he simply stared at him, tired eyes wide and open for the first time all morning. He tried to think of anything to say in rebuttal, but his brain failed. It was something in those damn eyes…
Mike snapped out of his stare when he felt another tug on his sweater. He looked down to see the furrowed brow of his little sister, her eyes mirroring the determination he’d seen in Nancy’s a hundred times over.
“You should listen to Will. You look like…” she paused, Mike staying quiet as he watched the gears turn in her head. “Vecna!” She said loudly, causing Nancy to drop her keys and spin around, while Mike and Will’s eyes widened. It surprised Mike enough that he took in a sharp inhale of air before going into a fit of coughs.
Will snapped his fingers. “Oh, you mean from D&D?” He asked as he tried to hold back a relieved laugh.
She tilted her head. “What did you think I meant?” She asked, confused.
Mike eventually caught his breath, his coughs turning into wheezy laughs. “Nothing, Holls, I just wasn’t expecting you to actually read that manual I gave you.” He said with a slight laugh.
“Of course I read it!” She said happily.
Mike smiled. “Oh yeah? Or did you just look at the pictures?” he teased lightly as he ruffled her hair.
“I read it!” She said stubbornly as she tried to fix her braids.
Mike smirked. “Oh yeah? Well, who kills Vecna then?” He said teasingly as he put his hands on his knees, leaning down so he’s closer to her height.
Holly’s brow furrowed for a moment before smiling ear to ear. “Kas! The vampire!” She said excitedly.
Mike smiled, patting her head. “Alright, so maybe you did read it.” He said with a slight laugh, the action pulling at both his clogged-up lungs and injured shoulder. He winced slightly but shook it off.
He looked up at Will, hands still on his knees. The look Will is giving him is unreadable. That’s new. Except maybe he can read it, maybe he just didn’t want to, because more importantly he doesn’t deserve the softness behind it. He stands up straight, rubbing the back of his neck as he feels his face flush again—maybe he could get away with blaming it on his fever.
Will put a hand on his hip. “Someone’s stalling. I think we’ve got four votes for you in bed. This household is a democracy after all.” He said with a slight snark that made a smile tug at Mike’s chapped lips.
Mike finally relented and admitted defeat. “Fine… I’ll go to bed.” He said with a tired smile, “But not because you told me to.” He said jokingly, pulling out his best attempt at his usual grin, knowing, in fact, it was entirely because Will told him to.
Will rolled his eyes and gently shoved his good shoulder. “Whatever you say, Mike.” His smile dropped to make a more serious face, but his eyes were still soft. “Now go to bed. I’m gonna come home from school and see your ass still in your room and actually resting.”
Mike raised his hands in mock surrender, a smile tugging at his lips. “Whatever you say, Will the Wise,” he then did a mocking bow for added effect.
Will let out a snort, a smile breaking across his lips, the kind that makes his eyes crinkle. Mike subconsciously patted himself on the back for his success, probably looking down at him with a stupid grin, but he didn’t have the energy to care.
“Stop making me forget you should’ve been back upstairs five minutes ago.” He said as he tried to reel in his snickers, patting his shoulder. The touch was brief, but it had quickly burned itself into his memory.
“Michael! I told you to go back up to your room,” Karen said when she walked back into the dining room, one hand on her hip and the other holding a plate for Mike to take.
Mike saw the smug smirk tugging at Will’s lips. Don’t let his shy demeanor fool you. He would happily hold things over your head for life.
“I’m working on it, Mrs. Wheeler! He said he’d go to bed, right, Michael?” He teased with a smirk.
Mike shot him a half-hearted glare, but he couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. “Fine, fine. I’ll go back to bed.” He said in a mock exasperated tone, grabbing the plate from his mother and walking back upstairs, offering a mock salute to each of them. “Happy now?”
“Very.” They both said in unison.
Mike snickered before walking back up to his room, closing the door behind him, putting the plate down on his dresser, and flopping face-first down on his bed. His face was burning, and he knew it wasn’t just his fever. God, he felt like horseshit. But he would live like this every day if it meant he could get Will to smile like that for all of time. He closed his eyes; they burned as he did so. He felt gross. How could he use his best friend like that? Thinking about him like this.
He continued to think for better or, mostly, worse until he felt his brain finally give out on him with the rest of this cursed body he was trapped in, falling into a deep sleep.