Chapter Text
Will woke up cold and gasping for air. He bolted upright looking around the dim basement, his muscles tensed from his dream, eyes searching for El, who he knew would be there.
“Will it’s okay, I’m here. You’re here.” Will nodded, his heart still beating out of his chest.
“Can I hug you?” he nodded and El wrapped him in her arms. He hated this. He hated being coddled. He hated other people having to take care of him, because would El do this for Lucas or Dustin or Mike?
“Do you want to sleep on my bed tonight?” Shit, this was stupid. It wasn't like he was doing something wrong. This was El. This was his sister.
“Uh–Yeah, sure.” El led him over to her bed. It wasn't really big enough for both of them so El ended up curling her arms around him, he didn't mind though, he liked the warmth and despite his efforts he fell asleep in his sister's embrace.
Mike woke up with a start, his heart racing. Shit, he’d had the dream again He scrambled out of bed, knowing what he was doing was stupid. He careened down the stairs and wrenched open the basement door.
Fuck, Will’s bed was empty. Mike couldn't move. This couldn’t be happening, not again–
“Mike?” It was Will. Mike nearly collapsed from relief.
“What are you doing here?” Will sounded groggy, as if he’d just woken up. Mike suddenly felt bad for coming down here.
“I just uh, well…” Mike trailed off, because he couldn't exactly tell Will he was here because of a dream.
"Are you okay?” Will’s tone had switched, his brows furrowed in concern.
“Yeah–I’m fine.” Mike’s words collided with the end of Will's sentence, answering quickly with a lie that came too easy.
“Okay.” Will wasn't convinced, because why would he be? Mike had just woken him up in the dead of night and didn't even have the decency to explain why.
“Okay.” What was Mike supposed to do now? “Ill just go then.” He turned and started walking up the stairs.
“Hang on.” Mike stopped. He heard Wills blankets rustling around. “Could you—uh— come to the bathroom with me? I just don't want to be alone right now.” Will finished his sentence quickly, sounding almost embarrassed.
“Uh yeah, sure. I mean—no problem.” Shit, Will was right next to him.
“Thanks."
As they climbed the basement stairs, Will stumbled, grabbing around Mike’s bicep to keep his balance.
Mike froze,because Holy shit Will was grabbing his arm.
“Mike?”
“Shit, your hand is freezing.” Not a lie,exactly, but not the truth.
Will quickly retracted his hand back into his sleeve. Mike realized he’d overstepped. “No no I didn't mean—I just—I meant—”
Fuck—he’d messed up.
“I'm sorry.”
What? Why the hell was Will sorry?
“What?”
“I said I'm sorry.”
“What—no I heard you. Why are you sorry? If anyone should be sorry it should be me. I shouldn't have said that. I know you don’t—”
“It’s fine.” Will said, sounding very much not fine, but Mike had done the same minutes ago so he was the last person to be telling Will off for that. “I just—nevermind.”
Will didn't want to dismiss Mike like that, but he knew that if he stood on the stairs he should cry, and he really didn't want Mike to see him cry.
He paused at the bathroom door, both wanting and not wanting to look back at Mike, but he'd delayed the inevitable too long and he felt the beginnings of vomit crawling up his throat. He slid into the bathroom and sat with his back against the toilet.
As soon as the door was closed the memories he’d tried to block came crashing in.
Running through the Upside down, the Demogorgon hot on his trail.
Seeing through the Demodogs eyes as they were burned in the tunnels. Feeling their burning, sickening pain.
Being in the moist, fleshy cocoon, Vecna standing in front of him, his hand outstretched. The thick black tentacle filling his mouth, crawling down his throat, pulsing with—
“Will?” Will tried to respond but his throat was still filled with Vecna’s tentacle.
“Will, are you okay?” In response Will leaned over the toilet and threw up.
Will hadn’t wanted Mike to see him like this. He didn't really want anyone to see him like this, but especially not Mike. He knew how much Mike hated vomit. He knew this was going to happen. He should have told Mike to stay outside.
Will finally stopped, just leaning over the toilet retching. He pivoted to press his back against the bathtub wall, his arms wrapped around himself, nails digging small crescents into his ribs.
“You—you can leave.” Will didn't want to look like he couldn't care for himself, but he also didn't want Mike to leave.
“Why would I leave?”
“Because, you know…” Will gestured generally to the bathroom, toilet still filled with his vomit. He remembered when Mike would get sick,and how he wouldn't eat anything, which inevitably made it worse. He remembered Mike’s reaction when he did throw up.
“Do you want some water?” Will could tell that Mike was trying not to think about that. He could tell by the way Mike’s jaw tensed, the way his fingers tapped the cold bathroom tiles. Will wasn’t really thirsty, but he could tell Mike couldn't be in this room for longer.
“Could you also wake up El?” Damn it, Will chided himself. He'd sounded ungrateful.
“Yeah. Yeah It'll do that.” Mike slowly got up, as if any sudden move would scare off Will, leaving the door open just a bit.
Will pulled his knees up to his chest and sat there, trying his best not to cry again. He knew if he started to cry, then he’d be inconsolable by the time Mike and El came back.
There was a small knock on the door.
“Could I come in?” Will nodded, forgetting that the door was closed. But El, because it was certainly El, Mike wouldn't knock, took his silence as a yes. She opened the door with some struggle, as she had a sweater and water in one hand and Will's sketchbook in the other.
“Um, so I have some water and I couldn't find your sweater so I found one of mi–” She cut herself off when she took in the whole situation. Will on the floor, near tears. A toilet full of his puke.
He tried to respond, but he felt like he was 12 again, trapped in the Upside Down with Vecna’s invisible claws wrapping around his middle.
El let out a small ‘oh’, before quickly untangling herself from her load and sitting down next to Will and pulling him into a hug.
They could have stayed like that for hours, Will crying and El rocking him back and fourth, whispering gentle words to him.
If not for Mike.
“Um,I found a jacket—it’s not that warm or anything but—oh.” Will quickly untangled himself from El and wiped his face with the heels of his hands. He watched Mike scan over the room. The pile of items El had brought in. The toilet, still filled with Will's vomit. Finally, finally, over Will.
“I—uh—oh sorry I can leave it here or—oh shit you have one. I'll just go then.”
Will shook his head, knowing Mike would know enough to take it as “Stay, please.”
Mike slid down next to Will.
"Do you want the jacket? I realize you already have one up here so I can just grab that one or, like none of them.”
Will managed a weak smile, nodding at the prospect of the jacket. He leaned forward so Mike could wrap the jacket around his back. He suddenly realized that El was gone. He felt his breathing quicken and he began to stand up.
“Relax.” Mike placed a gentle hand on Will's chest. As he felt Mike hand against his chest, with only a thin layer of cotton in-between their skin, he felt his heart to a small jump.
Mike felt the cold of Will’s skin, even through his t-shirt. Will was cold, colder than one should be.
“Do you want, like, a hug?” Mike slid his arm behind Will's back and pulled him close, leaving room to pull away. Mike felt Will's muscles, knotted with anxiety. He felt them relax as Mike wrapped his arms around Will. He left his arms loose around Will, waiting for him to reciprocate the hug, though every fibre of his being screamed at him to squeeze Will tight and never let go. To walk back to his room with Will and curl up next to him and—
Damn it Mike. Because what did he want? Is this how he was now?
Was he so broken and wrecked and—and fucked up that he couldn't sleep at night without seeing Will’s dead body on the edge of Lover’s Lake. That he couldn’t bike past it without thinking of that day, that day that he’d asked, no forced, Dustin and Lucas not to tell anyone—espesially not Will. That day he’d tried—
“You're warm.” Will’s words, slightly muffled against Mike’s chest, pulled him from his spiraling thoughts and back to the room. Will was tired, almost asleep.
“Do you wanna go back to the basement?” A small—ok, maybe not that small—part of him had hoped that Will would say no. That he would walk back to Mike's room, that they would lay next to each other, that they would tell stories til the morning came.
“No.” Mike had thought he’d imagined it for a second. That Will’s voice was a byproduct of his many sleepless nights and overimagination. But no, he’d felt the warm breath, the soft rumble of Will’s chest, the hint of panic creeping into the edges of Will's voice.
But they couldn't stay here forever and Will needed sleep, hell Mike needed sleep.
“Will, you need to sleep,” Mike tried to sound gentle but, hell, he was bad at gentleness. Wil pulled away, not in a scared or hurt way, just in an I’m done with this hug way. He watched the way Will chewed his lip, the way his eyes darted around, surveying the room.
“Or we can just, like, stay here. I mean, if you'd like.” He added on the last part quickly, realising he'd messed up.
Will nodded, and scooted over to rest his head on Mike’s lap. Mike startled a little at the unfamiliarity of the gesture, his hands moving quickly up towards his face, to fidget with a strand of his hair.
What was he doing? This was Will.
Will, who he's known for as long as he remembered. Will who’s had countless sleepovers in Mike’s own bed. Will, who used to stay up late with Mike planning childish futures and making childish promises. Will, who Mike used to distract from the yells outside his bedroom with fantastical stories of dragons and wizards and knights and kings.
But it was also Will. Will whose painting was still stashed in the depths of Mike's closet. Will who Mike had written countless letters to, each of them still lying, tucked away under Mike’s bed. Will, who Mike had seen being dredged up from the lake, just hours earlier in his dreams. Will, with soft brown hair that fell just above his eyes and hazel eyes that you just couldn't lie to and hands perpetually stained with ink or graphite or paint and a mole right above his lips that—
Mike realized he's been running his hand through Will’s hair. And holy shit, because why, why, did Will look so nice. Even under the harsh illumination of the bathroom and with his hair all messed up from sleep, he looked well—fuck, Mike didn't like admitting it ,even to himself, maybe especially not to himself—he didn't have to wonder why girls would like Will.
“Here’s the uh—oh..” El had walked in without Mike even noticing, which meant his hand was still, embarrassingly, tangled in Will’s hair, and Will sounded asleep on Mike’s lap. He quickly disentangled his hand, his face flushing.
“He’s asleep” No shit, Mike chided himself. “I can just bring him to the basement if you want.”
“No—no.” El spoke as if,she too, knew that Will sleeping in the basement was not a great idea. “Maybe you could bring him to your room…”
“Uh—yeah—sure.” Shit. He wasn't actually considering that as an option, because he knew that, even if he'd asked, Will would have said no. But now, El had said it, not Mike, and coming from her it seemed okay. Innocent. Clean.
“I’ll go get his blanket and stuff…” El walked out of the bathroom, bringing the spare jacket and empty cup with her.
Mike tried not to wake Will up, he really did. But as the only strenuous activity he’d done in—well ever—was running from a Demogorgon or some other form of hell beast, he wasn't the best equipped for that.
As he brought a half asleep Will into his bedroom he froze, because he couldn't just leave Will here to get the spare mattress—and even if he did it was in the basement and Mike could bring it up by himself so…
He guided Will into his bed, nearly taking both of them down tripping on–well Mike wasn't really sure what it was. As El crept into the room, blanket in tow, Mike fumbled in the hall closet for an extra pillow.
“Mike?”
“Mmm?” Mike tried, unsuccessfully, to hide the surprise in his voice.
“I—Goodnight.” She’d clearly wanted to say something else, though why she hadn't said it was a mystery to Mike.
“What?” Damn it. He’d done that thing he does, where he’d sounded angry and he’d push people away by trying to help or apologise or make things better. When his face would screw up and his words would move faster than his thoughts.
“I just—don't give Will a hard time about this. Please?”
“When do I—I mean yeah—I just—Okay. Yeah.” Because he wasn't going to, but maybe now he'd try extra hard because El’d told him to. And maybe he'd be extra nice tomorrow because maybe El’d told him to.
Well she didn't but she basically did. She implied it.
“Okay. G’night Mike.”
“Night.” Mike stood there a second, watching El’s back retreat down the stairs, before slowly walking back to his room. He climbed into bed next to—shit.
Next to Will.
But why—why—did it feel different this time. Different from when they were kids and they would have sleepovers every week. Different from when they were younger and they would talk for hours about everything.
Maybe it's because they're older and Mike is taller and Will isn't the scared little boy anymore.
Maybe because Mike isn't Mike anymore and learned how to break into government bases and make plans in secret because God knows who’s a spy.
And because Will isn't Will and Mike’s seen him shoot a gun and dress a wound and plan in secret.
But maybe it’s really because Will’s head has rested itself comfortably against Mike’s chest, his hair brushing against Mike’s neck, and his breath warm and real against Mike’s chest.
Maybe that’s why Mike falls asleep.