Chapter Text
Mike looked at the boy, his friend–his best friend. The boy grinned at him, “Mike,” he spoke softly as his eyes lit up the red field surrounded by tall jagged mountains. Two moons, barely visible in the daylight, were lowering in the sky behind them. “Will,” Mike replied, his own face breaking into a grin as well. He started to walk towards Will, but froze. He tried moving his arms but it was like his arms weren’t even there. He looked around–Will would help him.
He looked forward again and saw the boy he loved on the ground, writhing in pain, raw screams piercing through Mike’s brain. Dark tendrils were twisting around Will’s neck, asphyxiating him. Life was quickly fading from those goddamn pretty hazel eyes, his irises turning a deep crimson red. “Will!” he screamed. It was an ugly guttural scream. He pushed his legs forward, trying to run towards Will. His legs stayed detached from his body. He couldn’t fucking do anything. “No–let him go!” he sobbed, desperately. He felt a river of crimson blood pooling around him. “Will!” he choked out. He was still paralysed. Trapped. Frozen while he had to watch his best friend die. “Let him go please–please just let him fucking go!” his voice whimpering, barely able to be heard, even by himself.
“This is what happens when you love the wrong person, Michael,” a dark, raspy voice spoke, searing the words into Mike. He had caused his best friend’s death because he loved him the wrong way. He let the blood wash over him, ensnaring him in its cold grasp. It wasn’t sticky anymore–it was cold and smooth. It blinded him and he lost all sense of feeling as he fell, drifting away yet stuck, and then nothing.
“I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.” That is what Mike tried to say. He couldn’t get his mouth to cooperate. He tried to sit up. Something was trapping him. He couldn’t feel his legs. His arms. His body. No. Not again please nonono not again. I’m sorry Will. I’m pathetic aren’t I? I let you die. I fucking let you die. Mike closed his eyes, letting the darkness wash over him, willing it to take him too. He let the inky black set into his mind, and wondered if this is what death feels like. He drifted farther and farther away, letting air smother him until he reopened his eyes.
He jolted upwards, feeling the sheets twisted around his legs, confining him. He was able to move his body again. Not dead. He was almost disappointed at that fact, but what could he do? Emotions were confusing. Best just to not deal with them altogether. Be like a Vulcan. They don’t screw up as much as you do. Learn from them. Mike got out of bed. Apparently he was in his house now and not in the Red Field.
With shaky legs and his arms trembling, Mike made his way down to the basement. He timidly opened the door, as if this could prevent Will from dying. His gaze fell upon Will, who was sleeping. However, his chest was rising and falling too quickly–nightmare. Mike flipped on the lightswitch and ignored the assault of sudden brightness as he rushed over to Will. Reaching out in front of him and grasping Will’s hand instinctively, he spoke in his softest voice,“Will, Will, wake up. I-it’s okay, Will,” The other boy’s breathing slowed down after a minute or so.
Mike felt a tight squeeze around his hand, as if he were an anchor. His glanced down at their joined hands. His hands are so warm and soft…Stop thinking like that, creep. “Mike…you’re…” Will's voice brought him back. He had to be there for Will. He had to help him, in whatever way he could.
“I’m here, Will.” His voice still held the softer cadence that he reserved solely for Will. “Nightmare?”
“Yeah…wait did I wake you? Oh my god Mike–” Will looked up at him, eyes filled with worry.
Mike squeezed his hand reassuringly. That is a normal thing friends do…right? I mean we always did this when we were younger…“No…I uh was already up from one too. Wanted to check on you just to…” Mike wasn’t sure how much to share, not wanting to relive the nightmare, but also not wanting Will to worry about him. Will has enough going on and he shouldn’t concern himself with Mike’s pathetic nightmares.
“I’m here too, Mike,” Will smiled up at him. Will has a lovely smile. I wish he would smile more.
After a few minutes had passed, Mike decided that he would do what he always did after these nightmares. “Will, do you want to go get some water from upstairs? It kinda helps with everything a little bit. Then maybe we could…uh go up to my room for a bit,” Only after Mike finished spewing out the words, did it dawn on him how they sounded. He felt the heat rising to his cheeks and looked away from Will. He stared at their hands which were loosely intertwined. “I don’t really think I’m gonna be able to fall asleep so I thought we could like write and draw or something…but that seems kinda stupid and I dunno… now that I think about it–nevermind,” Mike spewed out quickly, backtracking as he slowly pulled his hand from Will’s grasp.
“I don’t think that’s stupid, I can’t sleep either and drawing helps me calm down, so I don’t see how it can hurt,” How can someone be so nice and perfect? Mike wondered. He’s perfect... Will stood up and started towards the stairs. “You coming?”
“Y-yeah,” Mike replied, getting up from his knees and following Will up the stairs.
Things That Are Wrong With Mike Wheeler:
20) I try to be normal but I can’t
Mike looked up from his notebook, filled with his sloppy handwriting. He turned to the other boy trying to catch a glimpse of his sketch. “How’s your sketching?”
“It’s going fine. Not really sure what it is I’m drawing but it looks okay,”
“Can I see?”
“I-it’s not done,”
“Doesn’t mean that it’s not a masterpiece,” Mike felt his lips curve into a small grin.
“It isn’t one,”
“Will, everything you make is a masterpiece.” Maybe that was too much. But Will was wrong. Mike glanced down at his hands, then looked back up at Will. He saw a faint blush scattered across his cheeks. He doesn’t seem mad. He doesn’t know…he just seems…embarrassed. Mike let out a small sigh of relief.
“Thanks…What kind of story are you writing?”
“I-I don’t really know. It’s just–there,”
“Probably not the best to create art when we’re sleep deprived,” Will said with a small chuckle.
“Yeah...” Mike looked down at his watch, “Oh, it’s already six, we could probably head down and make a coffee or something to get through the day,”
“Sure, I think I’ll have a shower first though,”
“Ok,”
Will got up and headed to the bathroom. Mike sat there in silence staring at the paper. What the fuck did I just write? Sea of Grey? Two moons? Red devilish light? He felt a headache starting to form, pressing into his brain. A prickling sense of unease formed around Mike. He whipped his head around frantically checking to see if Will was still there, but nothing was out of the ordinary. Guess this is what I get for only getting broken sleep for the past week. Because with Vecna and the Upside Down, what we need is more people to fight. Not like you’d be any good fully rested anyway. All you ever do is just get in the way and screw things up. He stared blankly at the blue wall in front of him, thinking about something Mr. Clarke once said about a guy who went like 2 weeks without sleep and went insane and lost his shit or something like that. Maybe I’ll give him a run for his money. Mike thought staring blankly at his walls from his bed.
He looked down in his hands which were holding two cups of coffee. When did I…? He felt the growing pressure in his head again and sighed. Wasn’t he just in his room? Whatever. Maybe I’m just going fucking insane. Well, I guess I’ll just add it to the evergrowing list of “Things That Are Wrong With Mike Wheeler”. He sat at the table and stirred his spoon in his coffee absentmindedly. The milk swirled around in the cup, a cloud absorbing everything as it turned from a dark maple amber colour to a muted chestnut colour.
A chair screeched across the floor. “Hey,” someone–Will–spoke.
“Oh, uh hi, your coffee is there,” Mike pointed to the coffee at the spot next to him.
“Cool,” Will rubbed his temple. Mike stared at the boy, he was pretty, even though he looked exhausted. Stop. Stop thinking like that. You aren’t normal. He is. Normal people hate people like you.
Things That Are Wrong With Mike Wheeler:
8) I can’t stop staring at Will.
Why am I like this? What is wrong with me? I want to fix this but I don’t at the same time. Why can’t I be normal? Why am I always so useless? Why do I hurt the people I love?
“-ike,” A voice cut through into his mind.
“Huh?” Was all Mike could manage to say. He turned his head to where the voice came from. Gaze drifting upwards he found his family and the rest of the Byers.
“Your food. It is getting cold,” Nancy frowned at him, almost curtly.
“Oh,” He managed, staring down at his plate, surprised to see some eggs and toast. He pushed the food around taking small bites, not really hungry. How long did I zone out for? Jesus, I must be really tired. The pounding increased, suffocating him. Something tapped his shoulder and he flinched at the unexpected contact. He turned to see Will looking at him with concern over his face. “You good?” he asked, voice low. The others wouldn’t hear him, they were arguing loudly about something or another. “Y-yeah, just tired or something,” Mike replied. Will stayed silent, but Mike could tell that Will was not convinced. I didn’t lie or anything. I am pretty tired.
After a few minutes of the bickering, the pounding had increased in intensity even more. He stood up, ignoring the faces of his family and the inevitable “Wait to be excused from the table Michael,” and meandered to his room. The loud voices from the kitchen slowly faded into a quiet chatter as Mike trudged into his room. Grasping the container of Advil, he let out a small groan. The headache had only seemed to get worse. He popped two of the pills into his mouth and swallowed hard. Feeling them scratch against his throat, he grabbed the cup of water on his desk and gulped it down.
His gaze fell upon a paper laid neatly on his desk. There were jagged half shaded mountains in the background, red spilling into the ground, the page slowly being consumed by it, and two red moons. All of it felt eerily familiar to Mike.
“Mike?”
Mike twisted around his chair to face Will. “Yeah?”
“Are you sure that you are okay? You seemed pretty out of it at breakfast,” Will, why do you worry about something as pathetic as me?
“Yeah, just had a headache, should be going away in half an hour or so,”
“You took an Advil as well?” As well?Wait–he was rubbing his temples earlier too. Did that mean–
“Wait–Will, do you also have a headache? Here let me turn off my lights–they’re probably too bright and–”
Will cut him off, “Mike. It’s not that bad, just super minor, I get them whenever I don’t sleep too well,”
“But you still have one,” Mike implored, trying to get Will to care about himself for once.
“Yes–but it really isn’t that bad, it’s already starting to lift anyways,”
Mike sighed. “Sure. Whatever you say…” Mike let his voice trail off, but he still added quietly, “but tell me if it comes back or gets worse,”
Will smiled at him “Okay, Mike, I will,” He really does have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. You really need to stop staring.
“So, how do you want to kill time until we meet up with Lucas and Dustin to see Max?”
“M-maybe we could read comics?” Will seemed to hesitate. Does he not want to be around me? Or does he think comics are too childish because of what I said. Why did I say that? I didn’t even want to grow up. I still don’t. Why can’t I–
“Mike?” That voice once again had snapped him out of his head.
“Sure. Comics sound great!” Mike forced a smile to his face, but it quickly became genuine because–it’s Will.
Things That Are Wrong With Mike Wheeler:
8) I can’t stop staring at Will–he’s so perfect
20) I try so hard to be normal and I can’t
170) I think I’m going insane
Things I Like Doing With Will (after he came back):
54) Reading comics to pass the time