Chapter Text
Will Byers was, as he'd known since he was a child, always an emotional person.
Not in the way where he'd start crying in public all the time - though he certainly felt like he wanted to - or just unable to keep his emotions in check, but rather in the way where he couldn't help but be affected by anything that was, even carelessly, said, in the way he couldn't stop to care about people, no matter how much they might've hurt him in the past.
Perhaps that was why, even after he had sworn up and down that he was over it, after all the hurt he had received, he couldn't stop caring about Mike Wheeler.
Things had changed. He knew that, especially after El's death all those months ago, Vecna's defeat, and even more so everything that's happened afterwards.
And yet, he still couldn't help but care so much about the boy whose crush Will felt defined him as a person to some degree, even though he had sworn up and down he didn't feel this for Mike anymore, he really didn't, no need to be concerned Jonathan!, and yet, his thoughts wouldn't stop going back to him, back to them.
Mike hasn't been doing well mentally ever since El died, and Will knew. When playing DnD, when hanging out with the group, no matter where, Mike had moments where he'd just shut down.
Will couldn't always pinpoint a reason - sometimes, the number 11 coming up seemed to do it, sometimes static in the Radio would cause Mike to freeze, the paining Will had given him, so many months ago, which Mike still didn't know the truth about, but sometimes, he'd just stare at things for no reason - their books on the shelf, a little folder hidden under his bed, or just into the air - and Will would feel his heart wrenching in his chest. Because no matter how not having a requited crush hurt, seeing Mike hurt was worse.
So, he'd help him...subtly. He stirred away the focus on whatever was stressing Mike out, directed them out of the situation that made Mike hang back in the past, sometimes he just brushed his elbow against him or shifted so Mike had physical contact to focus on, and though it didn't always help, the weak, thankful smiles Mike sent his way when it did work made his heart flutter enough to continue.
Even if Mike could never like him like that, Mike was, and would always be, his best friend, and Will refused to let the pain of an unrequited crush get in the way of that.
Either way, it had been so long the pain in his chest had given way to just a dull ache, flaring up when his heart dared to have hope for just a moment, but always returning to its base form.
Now, it was days after their graduation - not many, maybe three (for Will, days had almost started to blend together enough that sometimes he couldn't tell how many had actually passed) - and though Will had seen him at graduation, he felt like specifically after their talk in Mike's basement, Mike had, once again, seemed not in the moment.
More in his head, not quite present, not as obvious as his usual flashbacks but then again, Will supposed there wasn't exactly a formula Flashbacks followed.
All things considered, though, perhaps this was why Will wasn't surprised when in the late evening the phone rang, and Karen Wheeler was on the phone - like she had been, the day of graduation.
"Mrs. Wheeler?" Will said, confusion painting his features, making eye contact with his Mother who appeared in the doorframe of their living room, looking at him with one eyebrow raised.
"Ah, Will! Thank god it's you!" She replies - and for someone like Will, who'd known Karen since he was five years old, he knew when her tone sounded...off.
Karen Wheeler was, as long as he'd known her, always very down to earth. Strict, yes, and she could blow up at her husband - Will had heard that, more than once - but he also knew that the only times she sounded as she did now, was when she was worried.
And not just worried about anything, but worried about her children. This alone made Will's stomach drop, and he knew it was visible in his face through the way his mom immediately looked way more alarmed.
Karen, meanwhile, continues talking without really expecting an answer.
"So, have you seen Mike in the last- say, three hours?" Her voice goes an octave higher.
Will swallows. "No...I haven't seen him. Not since yesterday." He sounds worried too, now, and he sees his mom visibly tense just a bit.
He leans against the wall he's standing next to.
"Why? Is something wrong?" He sounds almost rushed, he knows, but right now, he really could care less - and Karen was one of the last people he'd expect to make fun of how his tone was.
"No- yes- I'm not sure." Karen says with a hurried tone and a sigh that made Will feel like there was doom on the horizon. "It's just, I haven't heard from him for a few hours, so I went to check three hours ago and he wasn't there, just wrote a note saying he went on a walk, which, honestly I'm fine with, but-"
She stops for a moment, giving him time to shoot his mom a look.
"Now, I saw that some of Ted's beer bottles are missing, and I can't help but think he took them, and I'm worried he's doing something reckless. I was hoping he was over at your house."
Will feels terror sink into his stomach. Mike. What could he possibly want with more than one beer bottle? Will knew Mike would've been here or given him some sort of sign if he'd wanted it to share with someone, the party specifically, so what would he need multiple bottles for?
He took a deep breath and tried to think rationally for a moment. If Mike really had taken the bottles, he would've chosen a place to drink them at - Will knew all the places Mike frequently visited, so he, maybe arrogantly, thought of himself as the person most likely to find him.
"I'm- I'm not sure where exactly he is." Will begins, crafting the sentence carefully. "But I think I know where he'd be. I can go and look for him."
The breath Karen lets out at that, could've might as well moved mountains.
"You're an angel, Will, thank you." Karen says, and the gratitude was well audible in her voice.
"Of course Mrs. Wheeler, I- I will call you if I find anything- well, that or I will just bring him to your doorstep." He chuckles, almost breathlessly, trying to fight down the anxiety that welled up inside him.
"Yeah, that's great." The chuckle Karen lets out sounds as anxious as his own did. "Goodbye, Will, and thank you again!"
"No problem." Will says, letting out a soft breath. "Goodbye, Mrs. Wheeler."
The moment he hangs up the phone, his mom is in front of him.
"What's wrong?" Joyce asks, eyebrows furrowed and tense.
Will blinks for a moment, forming the words in his head before speaking.
"Mrs. Wheeler doesn't know where Mike is." Will explains. He decides not to mention the alcohol - maybe that's something Mike wouldn't want everyone to know about. "She asked if he was here, which he isn't, but I offered to look for him because I think I'd know where he could be."
Joyce, though still a little tense, visibly deflates a little. Two years ago she would've told him it was too dangerous, but as time passed she actually started to give him more freedom and stopped worrying as much as she used to.
"Okay, stay safe though, okay?" She says gently and steps forward to hug him. "I'm sure you'll find Mike in no time." She teases as she steps back with a smile.
Will rolls his eyes fondly. "Sure I will mom."
She just smiles in response and doesn't say anything anymore, as she watches him walk towards the front door.
As he steps out into the cool summer air, he thinks he hears Hopper say something suspiciously along the lines of "I told you so" - but he refuses to dwell on it longer than he has to. He, inwardly, shakes his head and his thoughts rearrange to his original task - finding Mike.
The door closes behind him, and he stops, taking in a breath and letting his eyes scan the area - because now, the real plan began: finding out where Mike possibly could've gone.
He slowly walks on, his brain going through places where Mike would go often in the last time - most places they used to go to when they were kids were mostly abandoned by them now, but he figures, the first place Mike could've gone is where he also went on graduation - Hopper, subtly, told him, though Will isn't fully sure why he told him, specifically.
Regardless, he figures it wouldn't hurt to check - so he, on second thought, turns to get his bike from next to the cabin.
He could walk, sure, but especially now he thinks going by bike will save him time, precious time, and he'd rather use his bike and not need it in the end, as opposed to not using it and realising he should've.
The ride was, at times, a little cold, the wind depending on how fast he was going biting at his face, but Will fights back any thoughts that may arise from it - it's gotten easier to do that now.
He doesn't know how long it takes him to get to the monument - maybe fifteen minutes, maybe twenty, fact is he gets there faster than he usually would, but even from a distance he can see there's no one sitting on that bench.
He feels his stomach drop, hands tightening around the handles, but drives closer anyway - he's not entirely sure why, but he supposes it might give him some sort of clue so he allows it.
He leaves his bike behind next to the street, walking up the rest of the way.
When Will arrives at the bench, he immediately sees two beer bottles leaning against its side.
So, he had been here.
Will steps closer, gripping the back of the bench as he tries to think of where Mike could've possibly gone next.
If not here, he figures, he must've gone somewhere abandoned. With no people, no one that could accidentally stumble upon him, where he could just do whatever it was that he wanted.
It takes Will an embarrassingly long time, staring at the beer bottles to his feet, to remember the church.
The old, abandoned church Mike used to drag them to - often, it was only Will, to be completely honest, especially in the past few years - if they'd even gone, at all, that is.
Well, it's his best bet now, he supposes, because it seemed much more likely than the other places they'd frequent - they were too open, even this bench had been stretching it though barely tolerable, so Will thought Mike would do anything but go even further into the town.
As soon as that thought festered, Will had already left the bench behind, grabbing his bike and heading towards the abandoned church.
The way there felt both shorter and longer at the same time - Will was going much faster than before, wind in his face, but he kept thinking of why specifically Mike even went to the church again to begin with, that it felt much longer than it probably was.
Finally, though, he can see the Church in the distance. He lets out a breath, soft in the air and barely audible over the sound of his tires on the ground.
He doesn't wait until he's all the way to the church before he jumps from his bike, letting it fall to the ground - mindful enough to not literally drop it, rather laying it down quickly, but by the sound alone he might as well have done the first one.
Will takes a breath, as deep as he could - which wasn't much, as the anxiety rising in him refused to let his lungs expand as much as usual.
He hurries over to the church, softly pushing open the old doors. They creak softly but open without much resistance, which Will is grateful for.
"Mike?" He calls out, softly, stepping into the church. It's dark in here, only the soft glow of the moonlight shining through the windows - Will curses himself for not taking a flashlight, having assumed in the moment that the light of his bike would be enough.
No answer.
His breath quickens but he forces himself to walk into the church more, instead of panicking. Maybe Mike's just in the corner somewhere? Didn't hear him?
Totally possible outcomes, his brain tries to reassure him while his heart cries out in panic. Damn it.
He walks in further, eyes scanning the room and cursing them at the same time for not adapting to the darkness faster.
Finally, as he advances further into the church, he spots a figure, slumped over the altar, multiple beer bottles next to them.
His relief is immediately replaced with pure terror, as he realises that the figure is not moving.
Will can't even speak, basically running down the aisle until he manages to stand next to the figure at last.
Well, 'figure' is wrong, as he obviously knows who it is.
"Mike?" He asks, voice soft but not fully void of the anxiety that is raging inside of him. He extends his hand, carefully placing his hand on Mike's shoulder.
Mike moves under his hand, grumbling, and Will can't help but let out a relieved breath - he wouldn't have been able to deal with it if he just- hadn't moved again.
"Mike..." He repeats, leaning closer and taking a bottle Mike had his fingers clutched around out of his hand, placing it carefully out of reach.
Miraculously, Mike doesn't even fight it and just immediately loosens his grip, which lets Will's heart flutter momentarily, though he shuts that down immediately.
Not the time, Will, he tells himself.
Mike lifts his head now, blinking at him a few times.
"Will?" He croaks, trying to move himself further up to look at Will's face better. Will immediately leans forward to support him doing so.
"Yeah." He says softly, eyes moving over Mike's face. He's definitely very intoxicated, but Will can also see the dried tears on his face, can see his eyes being red and puffy and also so very tired, it makes his heart ache.
"Yeah, it's me." He continues, feeling as though he has to fill the silence. He doesn't ask if Mike's okay, because he can very much tell he isn't, but he feels Mike knows anyway.
Mike says something, but it sounds incomprehensible and slurred. Will furrows his eyebrows and leans just a little more over him, trying to help his movements to get up.
Mike, upon having a bit more stability with Will's help, reaches for the bottle Will had placed on the side again, though Will stops him.
"What's going on with you?" He asks, both exasperated and worried, shifting as to block Mike's view to the bottles.
This seems to rile Mike up, as he lifts his head quicker than he maybe should've, though not high enough that Will can see his entire face.
"No what's going on with you-" He stumbles over his, still slurred words, putting up a slight fight against Will - though he knows it's only half-hearted at best.
Will musters him for a moment, before he sighs. His heart had calmed down a little, seeing that Mike was both alive and responsive, though he was still worried.
"You're so out of it." He states, not in a mean way, more like stating a fact. He leans closer again, grabbing Mike's arm that is furthest from him and slinging Mike's other arm over Will's right shoulder so that he can support him better while getting up.
As he does so, Mike lifts his head a little more, eyes focused intently on Will's face. They're faces are close, Will can feel Mike's breath on his cheek, and he's glad, for once, that the church is dark.
Though, Will doesn't even realise at first, or rather ignores, way more focused on slowly moving Mike up - until Mike speaks.
"You're beautiful."
He says it in a tone, such an awed, almost breathless tone, it makes Will freeze. All thoughts in his mind come to a halt. His face heats up, and his eyes flicker over to Mike's face.
He stares at him, with such an intense, focused stare that Will can barely breathe.
His thoughts start again.
"You're- you're drunk." Will manages to get out, voice almost as breathless as Mike's was. He tries not to falter at the way the look on Mike's face doesn't change, if not getting a bit more determined.
"Yeah.." He murmurs, voice a little lower than before, eyes moving over Will's face - well, as much as he can see it in the darkness, anyway. "But even when I'm sober, you’re still beautiful."
Will thinks he must've died. Somewhere between finding Mike and him saying this, he must've died - whether that meant he was in heaven or hell now, he wasn't sure, but there was no way Mike just-
He lets out a shuttered breath, thoughts still racing in his head, though he tries to fight them back. He turns his face away even more, so that Mike can't see just how much his words got to him.
"Let's just- get you home, okay?" Will, who managed to help Mike actually stand, says. He knows full well that he won't forget about it, ever, but maybe Mike would, and- maybe that's better than him getting his hopes up. He assumes. He hopes.
Mike lets out a hum, face dropping into Will's neck and he shivers momentarily, though he does not push him away.
Will doesn't wait for his thoughts to start racing again, for his heart to go into cardiac arrest, and moves them both down the aisle towards the entrance instead.
During that entire walk, Mike leans on him, face against his neck and he already knows it'll be a long walk back, because there's no way he could get Mike back on his bike alone, and it didn't seem like Mike had went here with his bike, either - not that he could even use it right now, anyway.
When they finally manage to get outside, Will stops again, at least momentarily.
"Will you be okay? Walking back?" He asks, a little worried still, turning his head slightly in Mike's direction to find his eyes, just to see that, from where half of Mike's face was still pressed against his neck, Mike's eyes had already been focused on him, when he finds them.
His mouth goes dry and he swallows.
"Yeah, I got it." Mike says, and though it's not much and still slurred, it's coherent enough that Will believes him - he'll be fine.
"Okay." He says gently. "Tell me if you need to take a break though, yeah?"
He manages to not think about what Mike has said and his actions, mainly because he had a bigger problem to focus on - though he knew he'd think about it as soon as they'd arrive at the Wheelers house.
He waits until Mike gives a hum in agreement before he does start moving again.
It's gonna be a long way to begin with, and he would much rather be in Mike's basement or something than run through the night with drunk Mike pressed into his side.
With that thought in mind, he moves them past his bike and over the path he had biked over not long ago, and soon enough, they had disappeared between the trees towards the Wheeler's house.