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Life had been good—great, even, if you wanted a real answer. Supernatural disasters and odd, slimy monsters were officially behind them now. It was peaceful, going through the days like normal young adults again, where the biggest problems were simple, unnecessary things—like who stole Mrs. Wheeler’s last ginger cookie that had been warming the bellies of everyone crammed into the Wheeler basement.
It was a week before the big move to university, and a Friday, which meant movie night. It was being hosted in the same familiar space that held so many memories—some good, some bad, all of them theirs.
The constant bickering around made Will realize how much he missed this; the party all together, just sitting and enjoying themselves without a worry in the world. The last three years were hard, taking a toll on every single one of them. But things were finally looking up for the seven (Kali joined the party!!!) friends.
Dustin, after tons of convincing, finally let himself open up about the silent grieving he had been going through. He apologized for pulling away from the party, although none of them held anything against him—as they were all too familiar with the harrowing feeling of losing someone close to them. And after even more cornering and begging, he got himself a shrink, the same counselor Max had been seeing the year prior. Max reassured him that she was great, although a little prying at times. Six months later of constant back and forth, ditching and ignoring his sessions, plus lots of sit downs with the party, it seemed they were getting the old, charismatic Dustin back. It was great to see, and Will felt his heart swell every time he saw that bright smile that had been missing for so long.
After repairing his relationship with his other older mentor Steve, the two have been inseparable. Will’s heard talk about them planning some camping trips for during the year when the two can make time. For schooling, nobody was at all surprised when the acceptance letters were coming in at a rapid pace. He seemed to apply everywhere for “back up”, which Will hadn’t understood. Any place would be ecstatic to have such an intelligent mind amongst them. He had been set on doing his major on Engineering Physics (very fitting, he’s such a nerd), and eventually settled on accepting MIT’s offer.
Then there was El—his sweet, loving sister—who had sat everyone in her life down early on and told them she no longer went by that name. She said she was finally ready to move on from that part of her life. She was Jane Hopper now. Jane had done a lot of her grieving quietly after the last battle. Even now, twelve months later, it lingered—but she seemed lighter. Happier. It wasn’t grief for a person so much as for herself, for the life she had never really gotten to live.
The beginning had been hard—adjusting to the world, to new faces, to what it meant to exist without being watched or used—but with the steady help of her friends and family, she found her footing. She gravitated toward the quiet things. Long walks through the woods near the cabin, lingering by creeks and muddy paths, coming home with pockets full of smooth stones she insisted on painting later. She also liked doing small crafts, or anything that let her make something just for herself. The two "Wonder twins", as the Party liked to call them, often did art together side by side, just letting the silence sit comfortably as they worked on their own pieces. It was peaceful, and one of Will's favourite times during his long weeks.
Animals, especially, seemed to find her. Stray cats, injured birds, even the occasional raccoon that Hopper swore was not coming inside. Lately, she’d been talking about volunteering at an animal shelter, or doing something—anything—that helped creatures who couldn’t protect themselves. Will was proud of her for finding something for herself, as God knows she had had that stripped from her most of her life. Her powers were still very much intact, but she chose to use them less. She said she wanted to know what it felt like to be a real girl for once. That didn’t mean she never used them at all, though. Will was pretty sure he’d seen a floating cup or a granola bar drift into her room more than a few times, and it always made him smile.
With everything finally behind them, they were able to live together again—real siblings, like back in California. It was Mom, Hopper (who were finally engaged), Jane, and him, all crammed into their home. Not entirely new, just the old cabin with a few thoughtful renovations. There was an upstairs now, though the only way up was still a ladder. Two rooms sat up there—Will’s, and the “TV room,” with a small screen that the rest of the party crowded around whenever the Wheeler’s basement was overtaken by Holly and her friends. It was nice. Really nice. Being together like this felt right. And when it seemed like he was losing a sibling as Jonathan left to chase his filmmaking dreams, Will realized he had gained another instead.
Max, their fiery redheaded Zoomer, was now back on her two feet, skateboarding to her heart's content and spending much time doing anything to keep her active. It was amazing to see her recovery time, as she had gone through an entire eight months of physical therapy before she was back to regular functions. The doctors, a little weary of the condition of her limbs and muscles had at first told her it would take at least a year before she could be back to normally using her body, but unsurprisingly she had dismissed their theories with flying colours.
The entire, rather unfortunate situation had actually shed some light on a new passion. After months of regularly participating in the therapy to learn how to reuse her neglected muscles, she had grown an interest in the field. It got to the point that she was excited for her session, and would often talk to her Phyiso-therapist—Ashely, about how to get into a program such as hers.
After looking around at a few schools she landed on Butler University, signing up for their Physical Education program, which had an internship that could be completed during the summer. Although she hadn’t had every pre-requisite for the course, she had taken it upon herself to do some summer school to gain them. Will's happy that she’s now thriving, and that she has found something of interest, she really deserves it after the two shitty years she had endured.
Lucas, the lover boy everyone knew he was, seemed to take Max’s physical health more seriously than she did herself. Whether it was making sure she stretched properly or scolding her when she put too much pressure on her muscles and tried to overexert herself, he was always right there by her side. Nobody blamed him—not even once—even when he cancelled plans to take her to appointments or help her move into her new trailer home. The ones who had been there during Max’s comatose state had seen the toll it took on him. Will was just glad to see him looking happier now.
He’d changed in other ways too. Lucas had gotten serious about school, about grades and applications and the kind of future he could actually build. When he wasn’t with Max or the party, he was usually buried in books or sitting at a computer, teaching himself how to code, mumbling about how it was “useful” and “made sense.”
College was something he talked about often now—somewhere close to Max and the rest of the party, somewhere he could still play basketball if he wanted to. He finally decided on joining Max at Butler, which has an amazing coding program. And when he finally bought himself a small, beat-up truck with money he had apparently been saving since he was in the seventh grade (and a little help from his parents), he looked prouder than Will had ever seen him. Like everything he was doing—every careful plan, every late night—was finally starting to add up.
Kali, the party’s newest addition, who was very slowly beginning to make real connections with the group. Outside of Jane, she found an unexpected comfort in Dustin, the two of them orbiting each other in an easy, almost sibling-like way. They bonded over shared loss and an overlapping love for science fiction, spending hours debating ridiculous theories or watching old movies while pretending neither of them needed the company quite as much as they did.
One afternoon, Will walked in on Kali standing in the Wheeler’s basement, carefully flipping through his sketchbook he had left down there. The moment could have been awkward, but instead it turned into a conversation that felt strangely natural.
It turned out Kali was a talented artist herself, her forte being strictly abstract. She told him she’d fallen in love with it after escaping the lab, when art became something easy and peaceful. Kali didn’t officially live with the Hopper–Byers family, though Hopper acted like she did.
She had a small apartment not far from town that had been pretty much handed over by Dr. Owens with little to no hesitation. Hopper, who was quite weary of her presence in the beginning, insisted on checking in constantly, pretending it was about safety when it was really about concern. She drifted in and out of the house like she belonged there, often showing up unannounced and staying for dinner, no one ever questioning it. In every way that mattered, she was already part of the family.
As for D&D—the groups shared passion, Kali picked up the game with surprising ease, quickly claiming the role of the Mage—for obvious reasons. One night, during a particularly brutal ten-hour campaign, Mike dramatically announced he needed to “rest his voice,” which resulted in Kali making fun of him, telling him she could've made it through if she was dungeon master. And since Mike never likes when someone comments on his dming abilities, he challenged her. It ended with her taking over for a few minutes while he waited for his throat to stop hurting. What they didn’t expect was how amazing she would be at the role. Her storytelling quickly spiraled into something dramatic and wildly unhinged and very fun to experienced. By the end of the night, everyone was exhausted, slightly traumatized, and begging her to run a real campaign. When she finally did, she absolutely destroyed them—in the best way possible.
Mike, their storyteller and Paladin, was very unsurprisingly taking more of a plunge into his writing after graduation. Will thinks it makes sense, really. Mike had always been a storyteller—he just finally learned how to write the truth. He had applied to pretty much every single university in the state of Indianapolis with strong creative writing programs, but eventually landed on Bloomington.
For this specific program, the application required one piece of creative writing centered around the idea of identity—who you are, who you’ve been, and who you’re trying to become. Mike complained about it for weeks, insisting it was too vague, too invasive, a question he didn’t know how to answer. But after one random night spent in the Wheeler basement with Will with confessions shared, first kisses given, and the official “boyfriend” label quietly applied—he had, quite “coincidentally,” as Mike liked to say, completed a two-page piece only days later. Will never read it in full, but he recognized parts of himself and the Party. It made Will smile knowing how much his friends and family supported the creative parts of himself.
Sometime after Eddie’s death, his uncle didn’t really know what to do with the rest of his things. Through the school and what remained of Hellfire, he managed to track down a few of them, asking if there was anything they wanted to keep. Mike had hesitated at first, but in the end, he took Eddie’s electric guitar. No one really expected much to come of it—not even Mike himself—but slowly, late at night, he started teaching himself how to play. He wasn’t very good, not yet, but Will often found him hunched over the strings, fingers sore and expression soft as he practised.
Mike had also been given a car after graduation. A gift from Ted that Mike likes to call a final “get lost.” It was a pretty beat-up Chrysler, the kind that looked like it might’ve been rescued from the side of the road. He complained about it constantly, of course, but Will could tell that car was the first real piece of freedom Mike had been given in a long while, and for once, he actually knew where he wanted to go.
Then lastly, there was Will—who, somehow, was the happiest he had ever been. With only one year of high school left, it had turned into something gentler than he ever expected. He spent most of his days tucked away in the art room, hands always busy, either talking quietly with Ms. Linda—who had grown very fond of him—or losing himself in whatever he was creating that week. His love for art had only deepened; he experimented freely now, trying pottery, knitting, anything that let him turn feelings into something more creative. The party and his family were a little overwhelmed by the steady stream of handmade mugs and misshapen beanies, but Will had always loved giving pieces of his art to the people he loved.
Since it was his final year before graduation, Lucas dragged him to the schools track-team tryout, insisting he couldn’t “let his prime bod go to waste.” Somehow—shockingly—Will made the team. He had always been a pretty fast runner, but it still felt weird to do anything other than art in his free time. The whole Party and his family came to his first meet where he got in third place. He didn't make a lot of friends during his time on the team as he talked almost exclusively to Lucas, but he didn't mind—he found it was a good way to let his relationship with the Party member grow. He also it felt good to try something loud and fast and unfamiliar, something that made his heart race for reasons that weren’t fear.
Through Lucas and his time on the Basketball team, he met Chance—a jock who coincidentally used to bully some of the Party members. Chance had apparently gone up to Lucas and Dustin a while after the battle and apologized for everything he was a part of.
Between the two boys there were months of lingering glances in hallways and awkward locker room smiles before Will agreed to a date. The movies weren’t his ideal first date, but Chance had tried (very clumsily) to hold his hand and kiss his cheek after, and the party teased him relentlessly for days. All except Mike. Will learned why later—on the same night of their basement confessions—when Mike admitted he’d been jealous. Painfully, embarrassingly jealous. Chance never turned into anything real. Will realized he couldn’t say yes to someone when his heart already belonged elsewhere. And now that Mike had finally gotten his head out of his ass, Will’s love life felt…easy. Right. Safe.
There was also a small thing Will’s trying to wrap his head around. It turns out, some remnants of whatever the Upside Down left behind still lingered in him. They definitely weren't as strong as when the Upside Down was alive, but Will still liked to experiment with it all. He didn’t always notice it when it happened. Sometimes it was just that familiar pressure in his chest, or the quiet buzzing under his skin that he’d learned to ignore. Will and Mike found out by accident one night in his room while the two were tangled together, laughing between kisses. As their kisses escalated and touches began reaching lower and lower—farther than either of them had dared to take it before in their three month relationship—Will’s brain completely short-circuited. The lamp on his dresser flickered once. Then twice. And then the bulb burst, glass popping and skittering across the floor. They both froze, eyes wide. Mike was the first to laugh, breathless and suprised, continuing his praise on him being a sorcerer. Will didn’t react right away. He just stared at the broken lamp, that buzzing still humming faintly under his skin. It never worked like El’s powers. He couldn’t do anything on purpose. It only ever showed up when his emotions ran too high—fear, panic, or apparently… this. It scared him a little. But Mike had just taken his hand like it didn’t change a thing, if anything, he seemed a little too pleased with his lingering ablities.
But disregarding the super natural parts that were still in his life, waiting for to hear back from each University was a pain Acceptance letters sat heavy in the back of his mind as he chewed his nails raw. He’d applied to every art school within a one-to-two-hour radius—at Joyce’s insistence, but also his own. With Jane, Kali, and his parents still in Hawkins, he couldn’t imagine being too far away. When the letter from Bloomington’s School of Art + Design arrived, he cried. It was close enough for holidays and spontaneous visits, but far enough to feel like a beginning. A place where a kid with too much of a crazy past could try and move on with his life.
He and Mike had already put down a payment for a two-bedroom apartment—long before they were together, technically—though now they both doubted the second bed would see much use. Still, it didn’t matter. For the first time in a long time, Will felt steady. Loved. Excited for what came next. And for once, the future didn’t scare him.
And now, as his friends and his love bickered and shoved each other over the ginger cookie culprit, Will couldn’t help but think that if this was what “normal” looked like, he never wanted anything else.