Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Robert." 

Lieutenant Robert Akers turned to Kay, blatant in his displeasure to being beckoned to. He was doing that a lot more often lately. The temptation to instill fear within him, a reminder as to why she's US Army General—his superior—never ceased to cross her mind. But in her forty years in the military, as both scientist and combatant, she'd seen enough cases like Robert. Experienced them.

Intimidation would, at best, drive him to work around her. In the shadows where her commands can be plausibly ignored. And at worst, he'd explode in a fit of frustration turned into exhausted, low morale induced blind rage. He was already unstable, she could tell.

Which is why she wanted him glued to her hip, not out of her sight for even a decisecond.

"You're with me."

Lieutenant Akers was smart enough not to argue. Though the minute clenching of his jaw did not go unnoticed. Most things rarely did with her.

The crunchy but dull thud of her boots against the cold, inorganic ground echoed as her entourage of two marched alongside her in step. Flanking her. She wasn't supposed to be here, it wasn't by her own planning and intention. It was out of necessity. 

The gate in MAC-Z currently lay open—a gaping wound that the nuisances for targets had, without a doubt, burrowed through like the maggots they are. The easiest acces they could've gotten to the Upside Down, all because of one incompetent soldier.

One of the soldiers by her side whose name Kay couldn't be bothered to remember—god knows she has too much else on her mind—slammed the Gate-Watch soldier against the walls of the abandoned Radio Shack. Akers was content to just watch by Kay's side. Kay glanced at him from the corner of her eye, saw the sharp but subdued smirk on his face. He deemed himself above this, but not beneath enjoying it. The thrill of power from just being by her side.

"I swear to God! I didn't touch shit!" The soldier bellowed, Williamson she recognised, voice strained with desperation and panic.

"So the gate just opened all by itself?!" The nameless but clearly fiercely dedicated soldier hissed back, beyond incredulous. Outright enraged, as if Williamson's audacity to supposedly lie was disdaining. Williamson opened his mouth to defend himself, all to be silenced once more with an even more incredulous—"Like magic!?"

"Must've been some kind of a malfunction!" The nameless soldier scoffed. Even as Kay stood behind him, just to get a good look at their incompetent culprit. To read his face, see where his lies caved in against the wavering wrinkles and ridges of tension on his face. 

"You really expect me to believe that, Soldier?" 

Lieutenant Akers snorted at that. The nameless soldier believing his Lieutenant to be laughing off their current shared enemy, getting emboldened by it and slamming Williamson to the wall once again. But Kay knew better. Akers was amused by this nameless soldier's demeanour, with the passion of an important man while his superior right beside him didn't even care to know his name. 

Kay turned a sobering glare at Akers that had him schooling the sadistic smirk on his face. The satisfaction of having him back in line briefly tempered the shame of her team's incompetence. 

"I swear, I don't know what happened!" Williamson's blatantly pleading and desperate tone ensnared Kay's attention back. This man wasn't lying. Whatever happened here wasn't by his intention. 

Letting her gaze search the perimeter of the radio shack, her eyes landed on the leftover boxes—short-wave radio kits. Lieutenant Akers followed her gaze and by the glint in his eye—the flashing of something predatory and eager—he'd made the same connection she did. Before Nameless soldier could slam Williamson against the wall again, hiss in his face and demand something he clearly didn't have, Kay spoke. She didn't speak up, she just spoke. Even at the low tenor her voice came out with, it was as beckoning as a whip crackling against open air.

"What if it was a malfunction." The nameless soldier finally followed Kay and Lt. Akers' gaze. "Not caused by us."

Lieutenant Akers cracked his knuckles, drawing Kay's attention. "Then we have our lead."

Kay looked at him for a long moment. Scrutinized him, picking him apart like a frog beneath the sharp end of her scalpel. Piecing him back together. A loose cannon in the making if not already actualised. Waiting for an excuse to rebel.

She could either shut him down and go with her own plan of action. And risk him going borderline AWOL outside of her sobering eye. Or she could go with his plan. Follow the trail left behind, face the bigger picture forming at her periphery. Risk further delaying the capture of Subject Eleven.

Something much bigger than Eleven was happening at the edge of their surveillance. Something Akers could faintly see even if the image were blurred. 

"Tell the squad to spread out in three miniature fleets. Ours will take the road, follow the tyre tracks." Kay ordered. And Akers grinned. The first time Kay had ever seen him so happy to be told what to do.

With every jostle—from the weak bumps of tyres against upturned gravel that briefly shook everyone. To the shuddering of the entire truck as tyres met gaping potholes, with force that rattled against their diaphragms and ribcage and threatened to haul them from their seats to the truck's roof—Mike restarted his speech like a scratched vinyl record player. Sifting through kinder synonyms of certain words, with the intent to make them warmer. But not too warm! Morale raising, but not too much—he wasn't going for a good coach, he was going for a good boyfriend and god knows he hadn't been that for a long time.

But also, just a friend. Sifting through accompanying adjectives that could give El hope. Because looking at her now from across the truck, it looked like she had none. She was still standing, stronger than all of them. The best of them, but undeniably worn down. Scarred and exhausted.

The truck jostled again, violently enough for everyone to hiss in either sudden, sharp discomfort or pure panic. If not a bit of both. Lucas and Steve held onto Dustin, who'd hurled upwards and almost fell over. Hands shooting out to grabs his arm out of pure instinct alone. Lucas' left arm had shot out to bracket Erika. Something she did not appreciate and swiftly shoved away. Even though it had saved her from the same fate as Dustin.

"Umm..."

Mike turned to Will's soft beckoning. Perhaps anyone else would discount it as an awkward attempt at breaking the ice or starting a conversation. And they wouldn't be wrong for assuming that. But Mike knew better. Just because his beckoning was soft spoken didn't make it any less demanding of one's attention. Mike could count all the people that would gladly ignore Will's voice on one hand only.

"I think it's over." Will continued, a hint of mirth bleeding through his sarcasm.

"Oh! Yeah, sorry." Mike mumbled before relinquishing his vice-like grip on Will's arm—instinct—just as the truck swerved to a stop, pulling everyone's bodies forward with stomach churning inertia. Mike's right hand shot back out, firmly pushing Will back by his chest. While his left clutched whatever nearest to him he could as an anchor.

He noticed from his periphery that El barely jostled. Held still and unyielding by her own powers. Same as Hopper. A casual display of power that briefly short circuit Mike's brain. He'd know she'd gotten powerful, the training had to amount to something after all. But knowing and seeing were two entirely different experiences. She did that without strain or effort, where before, she may have had to scrunch up her eyes in concentration.

"Alright, lab rats!" Murray bellowed with an enthusiasm Mike envied after opening the back of the truck. "Let's scurry up. An entire dimension is about to come crashing down on our heads."

Mike stared at Murray's grinning face. What the hell was actually wrong with this man. Just as El got up to jump out of the truck after Hopper and Kali. 

"Wait!" Mike caught her wrist. Ignoring Hopper's subtle but pointed glare as he disappeared around the truck. It was now or never. But El clearly had other plans. Instead of sitting back down, she tugged Mike up with her.

"Will?" Will turned to her soft beckoning with clueless doe eyes. Getting up to follow when El inclined her head outside the truck.

"Wait, where are you guys going?" Lucas called out.

"I just want to talk to them." El replied without further explanation before hopping off the truck. Will and Mike in tow. 

She waited for Hopper and Kali to establish a good distance, good enough to be out of ear shot before she turned to Will. Reaching for his arms as he held on to her own in turn. Opening her mouth as if to say something before suddenly remembering Mike was still there. 

"Wait," Mike heard her mumble quietly before she fully turned to face him. "You wanted to say something?"

"Yeah," Mike nodded just as Will thankfully took the hint and gave them some distance to talk. Though El's slight displeasure with this did not go unnoticed, like she didn't want him out of her sight.

"I'd ask you if you're okay, but that'd be pretty obtuse even for me." That startled El's attention completely back to Mike before she let out a sharp bark of laughter. Earnest and involuntary. Like she'd forgotten she could do that, that Mike could make her do that. With her laughter dying down, something subdued and wane compared to what Mike was used to, he decided to just rip the bandaid off clean.

"I know this plan is mad, El. I know so many things have to go right and tenfold more could—" Mike paused. Kinder words. Warmer words. Or the truth. "—and probably will go wrong." Mike watched the little crevices of mirth he'd managed to carve out of her stoic face seal back under the weight of his words. Reached out for her, squeezed as if to remind her he was still here. That as long as they were here, they still had a chance. "But we can do this. Together."

Something flashed through her eyes, like a red streak of light as her pupils dilated and siphoned in the little this hellhole could give. "One last fight," the light waivered and thinned. "And this whole nightmare—it'll be over. It'll finally be over."

"It will." El echoed. Resolute and with conviction. Mike should've been glad with himself, that he'd managed to raise her morale, raise her spirits. But the light in her eyes had snuffed out against the void of her pupils, hardened and unyielding like steel. 

Before he could soak it in, see it for what it is, El had already swivelled to where Will stood—surveying the dark and desolate sights like they were intriguing rather than haunting. If she had looked at Mike with affection, then she was now bearing the whole brunt of it on Will. All of it in it's cosmic scale and unknowable nature and otherworldly weight. Will met her gaze just as she was only a few steps away from him. Both of them reaching out to the other almost in tandem, like magnet to iron.

Her intensity had put Will on immediate alert and Mike loathed the fact that he couldn't hear what they were saying. 

"Hey, Team?" Steve's voice called out from the truck, breaking whatever bubble Will and El had begun to form around one another. "We should really get going, we don't have all that much time." El's grip on Will's arm tightened.

"We're still talking. I—" Nancy, on her last thread of patience cut in, curt and stern where Steve was gentle and coaxing. "—We don't have time."

"Go on ahead, I'll catch up with you guys." Will declared. All to be met with rightfully flabbergasted protest.

"What?!" Dustin bellowed.

"Dude, it's the end of the world—your conversation can't wait?!" Lucas demanded. Jonathan furiously nodding in affirmation, on the verge of leaping out of his seat and dragging Will back in.

"I'll walk okay? Just go ahead."

El's grip on Will had to hurt at this point.

"You'll walk in the upside down," Lucas deadpanned. "There is literally nothing here and if there is, I have powers. I'm not everybody's helpless burden anymore!" Will snapped back. This was starting to get personal, veering off into vault sealed emotions that would need hours and patience to unpack—individually.

"Okay, that's enough." Mike silenced before things could get any further out of hand. "I'll stay with Will. You guys can go ahead of us, the radio tower isn't that far. We will catch up." Mouths opened to protest. "And Will won't be alone." All of them snapped shut. Contemplating. Jonathan and Nancy contemplating the longest. 

Mike nodded, waiting for them to reciprocate the gesture as a show of compromise. Several seconds later, everyone nodded back before Mike closed the back of the truck.

"Thanks Mike," Mike smiled, deeply satisfied with himself to be the cause of El's relief. And just as she turned her gaze back to Will, he gave them their space. Choosing to watch the truck drive away, it's tyres kicking up the gray, lifeless dust in to the air. But that didn't last long, god forbid a boy is curious.

The intensity of their conversation felt...wrong. It's wasn't an argument, but it wasn't an embrace either. With every word El spoke with nothing but conviction, Will's brows furrowed and his lips pursed. His grip tightened on her arms and he gave back a retort. A demanding one by the looks of it, demanding something. An answer? A promise?

El disregarded every demand. Mike could tell because Will's brows went from furrowed in frustration to frowned, an inkling of disappointment and unease snaking through them each time. El gripped him tighter still, as if she could take him with her. Hide him from the world and keep him all to herself, sealed away in her heart.

And Mike felt ashamed for looking, like he was seeing something he had no right to. Turning back to where the truck had now disappeared out of sight. Leaving only tyre track marks as evidence of it's existence. By the time he turned back to look at El and Will, they were embracing. Will's gaze was contemplating and unnerved over El's shoulder. Mike couldn't see El's face, though even if he could, he was ashamed to admit he probably wouldn't be able to read it. 

Then Will just settled for drowning himself in the embrace, burying his face in her shoulder and hugging her tighter. She cradled the back of his head and squeezed back in tandem. And when the hug finally broke off, El turned her gaze to Mike before making her way to him. Opening her arms and embracing him too. Compared to what he'd just witnessed, it was pathetically tame. 

She flashed him a smile, small and wane but real. And glanced at Will one last time before she turned her back on them both and left.

Will watched her leave. Mike watched Will. 

By the time she was out of sight—Mike could tell because Will's gaze darted to the ground before meeting Mike's—the quietness of the Upside Down had grown unsettling. Like the feeling of being watched. Something in your body scientists are yet to identify, least of all name, seeing what your eyes couldn't. Feeling it. But this was worse. Where it would only take a few seconds of looking around to see who or what was looking at you—here, no amount of searching would reveal the thing breathing foul, diseased breath down his neck. No amount of searching would make it corporeal enough for him to see it. And it was everywhere. Mother Nature had no dominion here.

And maybe Will could feel it too, or maybe he'd spent enough time here as is. And rightfully didn't want to do so a single second longer. He shuddered. It was a small thing, nearly imperceptible.

"We should get going. No need to waste anymore time than we already have." Mike inclined his head towards the path leading to the tower, where tyre track marks still left a guiding trail. Just as Will glowered at him.

"Woah!—I..." Mike held his hands up in surrender, almost instantly realising how horrible his words actually sounded. The swiftness of it stunned even Mike himself, he'd been particularly slow with El. The sudden efficiency of his mind like a sharp but replenishing flush of something cold flowing through it's channels. "I don't mean to say that was a waste of time. I was just...—"

Mike stumbled for a moment, Will's glower lessening being the only thing keeping him from devolving into a fit of unintelligible pleading. "I was just trying to say we should get going." 

"Since we're done and all," he added when Will said nothing. And that seemed to do the trick, completely dissolving Will's ire with something sobered taking it's place. 

"Right! Yeah." Will conceded even as he walked past Mike. Sparing one last glance back to where El disappeared.

Mike had many questions. He was beyond curious now. The intensity of Will and El's exchange alone had made him only curious, but the effects it clearly had on Will had him borderline on edge. But he let the silence sit for a few moments. Perhaps so as to not seem too eager.

When he cleared his throat, the sound did something like echoing but not quite. The space didn't let the sound linger, snuffed it out as soon as it came. But it didn't allow it to go unnoticed either, it didn't allow it to be quiet. It resounded, loud and clear. But never again.

Regardless, it was more than enough to get Will's attention, who looked at him like he'd grown two heads but Will was used to it. An expression caught between acknowledging the behaviour is odd, but being too accustomed to it to be incredulous.

"So, what were you and El talking about?" Will's eyes narrowed, almost instantly seeing through Mike's false nonchalance. Wordlessly demanding he speaks his true mind.

"It seemed intense," Mike defended his curiosity. 

And Will let out a small breath, as if he'd intended for it to take a certain weight with it. It clearly didn't work. "I honestly don't know. I just—..." Mike leaned in, briefly bumping shoulders with Will before creating atleast a foot's worth of distance. Will shook his head, wavering to the weight of his thoughts. "I don't know."

"Will," Mike softly beckoned. Somehow, Will's reply had doubled his concern than briefly subdue it, as Mike suspected Will had intended for it to.

"I can't say what exactly about what she said rubs me off the wrong way!" Will exclaimed, his frustration becoming more blatant. And with it, his unease. Watching Will feel uneasy, unsettled never got any easier despite it's commonality. His voice deflated to something quiet, almost defeated. "It was just...the way she spoke. The vibe of it."

"The vibe of it?" Mike echoed, sensing an opening. A path that didn't lead to a “I don't know” dead-end.

"Yeah," Will nodded. Eyes going hazy even as he looked ahead, as if he were replaying the conversation in his mind. "The things she was saying—that we're going to win this. That she'll save us, that there is no version of this where we don't win--" 

Mike cut in, "--she said that?"

Will nodded. "It should sound reassuring. It should be reassuring. But the way she said it..."

Several seconds of silence in, it became clear to Mike that Will wasn't planning on finishing his sentence. "How did she say it?" Mike asked quietly. Careful not to sound questioning, like he was interrogating Will.

"She said it with conviction," Will responded, voice so low it was almost a whisper. "Like it was the only possibility she could see, the only one that exists." 

Mike's brows furrowed in confusion. He tried and failed to figure out why that was a bad thing, and apparently Will could see that plainly on his face. He let out a frustrated puff of air, "I don't know, Mike. Okay?"

"Okay." Mike acquiesced, voice soft almost in apology.

"I'm sorry."

"—it's okay." Mike reasserted, drawing a smile out of Will. Small, very fragile. But real. Some fraction of Will's unease thawing at it's wake. 

For a moment, the space between them was easy again. Comfortable in the way it used to be before everything, where silence didn't mean secrets or unresolved fights being left to fester.

And Mike realised, this was probably the only chance he was going to get, even if it was at the cost of ruining this precious moment. He'd allowed too many things to fester for too long. And cowardice didn't suit him.

"Why didn't you ever tell me, Will?"

Will sighed, as if he'd known this conversation would have to happen eventually. Dreaded it.

"I was scared, okay?" Will had responded as if his reply was sufficient. It was not, Mike made that much clear with the frustration bleeding into his otherwise soft, patient tone.

"Scared of what? Me?"

"That you wouldn't want to be friends anymore! That non of you would!"

"You really think that little of me?" Mike didn't even try to hide the hurt in his voice.

"Don't put words in my mouth, Mike." Will replied quietly, the exhaustion in his words scathing. And the guilt already churning Mike's guts all but twisted them till his nerves screamed, the feeling shooting through his chest like the brief sting of needles piercing flesh. 

"I would never just stop being your friend, just because you don't like girls." Mike began softly. Hoping to catch Will's eye, even as Will stubbornly kept his gaze ahead.

"—just because I'm gay." Will corrected. His voice blunt and monotonous. The inkling of self-deprecating venom beneath it's flatness not going unnoticed. And this time, Mike allowed the silence to sit a little longer. He'd clearly miscalculated just how deep this ran and he was starting to realise he may not be able to dig himself out in a single conversation.

Will didn't mind the silence. If anything, he seemed to appreciate it. Mike could see it in the way he tensed everytime Mike glanced his way, as if preparing for his peace to be disturbed. Or atleast, the closest equivalent to it. The irony didn't go unnoticed to Mike, how not so long ago he would've gladly to let something fester and decay. While Will would've been the first between the two of them to confront it.

"I'm sorry." 

"..."

"I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't tell me that." Will shook his head. The frustration and hurt melding into one as his gaze went everywhere except to Mike.

"It's okay," Will emphasised, as if to hammer the words into Mike's head. "We're okay. Just let it go!"

"Clearly we're not, Will." Mike declared. "If you genuinely believed I would've abandoned our friendship just because of who you like, then we're very clearly far from okay."

"You already did!" Will snapped. Finally looking at Mike just to freeze him in place with his glare. "For way less than not liking girls. You didn't write to me and when you finally came to visit, it was like I wasn't even there." The words were oozing with a venom that had been allowed to sit, grow strong enough to erode flesh. But between the words, Will's voice shook. Betraying the solid foundation of his rage to be a deep well of pain. "Even worse, the few moments where you acknowledged I exist, it was like you didn't even want to see me!" 

"—Will," Mike tries to cut in, to say something. Already reaching out as if to steady Will, anchor him back to the present. His eyes are glassy with tears that won't fall and it magnifies the hurt as if Mike couldn't already see it glaringly.

"—Everything was different and I felt almost as alone as I had in the Upside Down, and I needed my friend and he wasn't there." Mike winced, flinching back like he'd been struck across the face. Though he's certain Will would've swat his hands away even if he hadn't flinched back. The haze of rage and hurt was whipped out of Will's eyes in an instant, morphing into guilt. Not regret, not quite. But guilt. 

"I'm sorry," the quiet baritone of Will's voice was grating against Mike's most delicate innards.

"Why are you sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for." Mike tried testing the bounds of Will's sudden calm, taking a step closer. "You're right, I was a shit friend—"

"—I forgave you." Will subconsciously took a step back in kind, sounding absolutely defeated. Like forgiving Mike had been a battle in and of itself, one he feared he was losing again. "I forgave you a long time ago, can we please just let this go?"

Any other day, Mike would've buckled to the request, borderline plea. "But clearly it still hurts."

"..."

Will turned away from Mike, quite literally just walking away as if he'd just given up. His shoulders lax without tension, but too low to be relieved. "Will..." Mike caught up to him easily, staying him with a hand at his wrist.

"You needed me," Will winced. The words he'd been working around spoken out loud. "And I wasn't there for you and I'm sorry."

Will was silent for a moment, mouth working to say something, face scrunched up as if the words were hooked and were leaving gouges at their wake as he dragged them out.

"The painting?"

"I'm not that dumb, Will." Will let out a sharp puff of laughter that simmered down to a breathy chuckle. The genuine amusement in stark contrast to him pulling his wrist out of Mike's hold. Mike considered letting go, and for a moment, he didn't, he just squeezed Will's wrist. But eventually he did. He'd rather letting it go than Will wrenching it out of his hand.

"Tell me what I need to do to earn your trust back."

Will stared for a moment, stunned but mostly confused. "What?"

"Tell me," Mike reiterated, unyielding and determined. "Tell me what I need to do to become the friend you would've told years ago."

Will's confusion gave way to something Mike couldn't name. Like he hadn't considered Mike's words a possibility of those he'd hear, didn't know what to do with them. Like he was afraid to have hope. He wanted to, but was afraid—too scathe to do so without fear. His heart was on the line, again. And Mike was truly beginning to realise the extent of his actions or inaction.

Mike "third time's the charm" Wheeler took a step closer, and upon not being rebuffed—closed the gaping maw of a distance between them. Torturing himself with the crystal clear visuals of Will's turmoil. Etched in the slight curve of red that was beginning to form beneath his eyes that he wouldn't have seen if he hadn't drawn closer. Reflected in the sheen in his eyes, wide and untainted.

Without warning, the glassy, mercurial quality of his eyes went sharp. Pupils constricting and focusing on something over Mike's shoulder. Mike turned to look at what had ensnared Will's attention from him. And though the Upside Down was frustratingly and unnervingly dark—sometimes fooling one into believing a space was empty, when in reality it was just so pitch black on account of being shrouded in shadows on top of existing in a dark space that it seemed devoid of anything—Mike could clearly see the splotches of black that were growing wider. Drawing closer.

"Oh no."

It was all Mike could say, even as he took a single futile step back, pushing Will back with him. Mike could feel Will's head turning and swivelling with urgency, looking for somewhere they could hide. But Mike somehow knew they'd already been spotted, most likely long before they'd even noticed the vans approaching. And Will eventually realised the same.

When one of the four vans drove past them without slowing down, kicking up dead dust into the even worse air—right in their faces, Mike outstretched his arm over Will. Drawing him closer to hide at his back. It was futile, Mike knew that. But it was all he could do. 

Will and Mike watched the van stop a good distance away, no more than twelve meters, cutting off the path to the tower. By the time they both realised the vans were trapping them in, the last had already settled in it's place with a screech of rubber against rough grain and tar.

From the van infront of them, cutting off the road leading back to the gate, emerged five uniformed soldiers—one of them noticeably less armoured than the others. A wrinkled woman, probably in retirement age. Two of the soldiers flanked her side, matching her urgent stride but failing to mimick the air of authority somehow seeping through her stoic expressions.

Mike resisted the urge to take another step back and betray his fear, just as the groaning of a van door heralded the emerging of more soldiers. The two remaining vans remained unopened, their residents feeling no need to engage. Mike concluded from this that it wasn't their intention to find them, they'd expected to encounter larger numbers. Not a stranded pair. And even before he could get a word in—perhaps admit immediate surrender and acquiesce to being escorted out of “their Military Base/Occupation”—the two soldiers not flanking the woman Mike assumed was incharge, along with the soldiers behind them, charged forward and ripped Will and Mike apart with far more force than would ever be required of grown adults dealing with literal teenagers.

"Hey! No—stop!" Mike bellowed as one of the soldiers dragged Will back by his right hand and caught his throat against their forearm in a chokehold. Completely disregarding the fact that the same was being done to him. He felt a stab of shame at the fact that he'd seen the woman flick out the index and ring finger of her right hand before the soldiers had lunged.

Another soldier brought his heel to the back of Will's knees, toppling him to the ground knees first with a pained grunt. Mike yanked forward the arm curled against his neck hard enough for the soldier to see necessity in increasing the pressure of his hold. And the pressure lasted long enough for Mike to start seeing stars rapidly glinting in and out of his darkening vision. Before the pressure let up and he was pressed to the ground knees-first by the shoulders, heaving for air.

"You can't do this! This amount of excessive force with unarmed minors isn't legal!" Mike heard Will hiss out with a steady venom, measured in it's potency as if to not be provoking. When Mike finally had the bandwidth to look up, he noticed that one of the soldiers flanking the woman looked eager, like he wanted the excuse Will was refusing them in his measured tone. 

"Trespassing isn't legal," the woman replied back with a monotone. And just as Will opened his mouth to reply, she cut him off. "William, I presume." Tilting her head to the side as if she were cataloguing his features. She probably was.

"And you must be Mike," she concluded after turning her head to him. Mike doing his best not to betray anything with his expressions, not fear nor rage. Maybe he was too paranoid but he wasn't eager to see what they could do with the knowledge of his genuine emotions. Very likely prey on it. But one thing he knew for certain is that this woman was reading off a script she memorised impressively quickly. Whatever records she had of all of them, they were impersonal but abundant when it came to Will, most likely medical records. And they were limited but personal when it came to Mike. The way she addressed their names gave her away. “William” with formality. “Mike” an informal, shortened version of his full name. Or again, maybe he was just paranoid.

"What was that?"

Mike quite literally flinched, a violent recoil that jostled the soldiers behind him. Had he said that out loud? He looked at her, really looked at her. And saw the subdued glint of something eager and sharp in her eyes, flashing through the black of her pupils before disappearing into their void. A disturbing and stark contrast to the apathy conveyed by her expressions. She was playing him. Two words in and she was already poking and prodding his mind without fanfare.

"I didn't say anything." Mike rasped out, his voice somewhat rough from the brief choking. Ignoring Will's look of concern, doing his best to act as if Will was an afterthought in his mind, one they couldn't exploit. And from the narrowing of the woman's eyes, he did so pointedly. Somehow, he knew she wasn't fooled. If anything, he'd confirmed to her that Will mattered enough to try. Compared to the scarred man beside her who was gleefully looking down at both him and Will, as if he was only waiting for the order to lunge like some attack dog—she was the more unsettling of the two. Where the scarred man was an obvious danger to avoid, she was a pair of disembodied eyes prowling them from the shadows cast by trees at night.

She hummed, the sound warm and understanding. Unfitting for her, a performance she was putting on to lower their guards. Mike loathed to admit it worked even by the smallest fraction, made him sag a little more into the hold of the soldiers keeping him in place.

"Mike," she beckoned to him even as she sauntered over to Will, her attack dog staying in place. "I'm Doctor Kay. And all I need from you are answers. Nothing more." The casualness of her tone, almost bordering on kind and reassuring. The falsehood of it barely obvious, as if her apathy was so potent it threatened to betray her. But her competence kept it at bay.

"I'll ask you a question and if you answer it to the best of your knowledge, no one will get hurt." She sounded so reasonable. Mike did his best not to be fooled and nodded. When he dared to glance at Will, honestly something that would do him more good than not as ignoring Will was just as telling as staring at him with blatant concern. Will had been waiting for Mike to meet his gaze, and the instant he did, Will shook his head as subtly as he could. Eyes borderline pleading. Don't tell them anything, please.

Mike returned his gaze to Dr Kay, hoping she'd missed the slight scrunching of his nose and lip, though doubting it.

"Where is subject Eleven."

"We separated at the gate." Mike replied, curt and steady. "She headed west"

"West to where?" Dr Kay's apparently rabid attack dog barked, his frustration blatant. Will briefly glared at him from the corner of his eye before returning his gaze to Mike, both parts cautioning as it was pleading. Like a kind but firm warning.

"Not to anywhere particular. She just needed a wide space to warm up and prepare before facing off with Vecna."

"Vecna?" Dr Kay questioned.

"Yes, Vecna." Mike hissed, glowering at her. "I know you know this is all him. But you don't care. You don't want to save the world. You just want your fucking weapon back."

Dr Kay remained silent for a long moment. Staring down at Mike from where she stood beside Will, her façade of patience and reasonability waning at the edges and giving away her apathetic disdain—as if she were looking down on an especially burdensome insect. 

"And where are the rest of your friends?"

Mike hesitated on this one. The first lie had been easy. He pointedly did not look at Will and tried to ignore the way Dr Kay's attack dog glanced between them.

"They abandoned us."

Dr Kay raised a single, unbelieving brow and Mike tried not to cringe at his own horrible lie. The gears in his mind violently whirring as he manufactured the best story to accompany it.

"They abandoned you." She echoed, the inkling of sarcasm in her tone carrying through—the first genuine emotion Mike heard from her.

"Yes, they abandoned us. Or...well, they abandoned Will." Mike nodded to Will, lingering in their met gaze with a sharp one—demanding he school his confused expression. It wasn't too obvious, in fact it was barely perceptible outside a slight furrowing of his brows. But Dr Kay seemed like the type of person who could sniff out micro-expressions like a hound.

"Will is a liability to the group, he attracts Demogorgons. So they voted to leave him behind, but I couldn't let him walk through the Upside Down alone." Dr Kay's brows frowned at him. "He's my friend." Mike added quietly.

"But he's not theirs?" Dr Kay added, sarcasm bordering on incredulity.

"Not the way I am."

Mike hoped the genuine emotion behind the subpar lie would give it enough weight to be seen as truth. Dr Kay's attack dog scoffed, the firearm held lazily in his hands like he was resigned to the fact that he wouldn't be using it here, but was still hopeful to hear the order.

"Faggots."

Will flinched before ducking his head as if to hide his expressions or the fact that he'd reacted. The sight of it making Mike's blood boil and momentarily eviscerating his rationale. But before he could snap and spewl out venomous words, Dr Kay's voice rang through with a firm and beckoning—"Robert."

“Robert” glanced at Dr Kay before schooling his demeanour, though not without an eye roll to betray his begrudging. When she returned her gaze to Mike, some fraction of his rationale had returned, though his blood still rushed through his veins in heated frenzy.

"You said Will is a liability. Attracts Demogorgons." She made a show of surveying the area, left and right. Before turning to Mike with a shrug. "They're not here now?"

"It's a matter of probability not certainty." Mike replied, refusing to buckle or waiver. Dr Kay hummed in response. It wasn't a thoughtful hum, not in the way that would've been reassuring to Mike. It sounded contemplating, but not of Mike's words. Of Mike himself.

"You're a good liar." Mike violently snuffed out the urge to recoil, remaining as unfazed as possible. "The best I've met in a long time."

"But I already warned you, Michael." Dr Kay continued. "No one needs to get hurt here. Any pain we can cause you is just unnecessary, especially when all you have to do is tell us the truth."

Mike couldn't help but glance at Will, his resolve waning under the weight of Dr Kay's words. And again, all he was met with was Will's simultaneously pleading and demanding gaze, shaking his head as imperceptibly as he could. Don't. Please don't.

Robert, having noticed, batted the side of Will's head with the back of his firearm. It wasn't hard enough to cause damage but certainly didn't feel like a soothing pet. Mike was already straining against the soldiers who'd been holding him down loosely, and he'd almost lunged at Robert if it weren't for them refortifying their hold on him. Forearm against his neck once again, cutting off air to his windpipe till he let up his struggle.

"I already told you the truth!" Mike rasped out.

"This isn't like the movies, Michael." Dr Kay began patiently. "I've been in the military for over thirty years. I've seen men with balls of steel buckle in under five minutes." 

Dr Kay's silence was calculated, intentioned to let the words linger despite there being no echo to carry them. To lay heavy within Mike's chest—a final warning.

"What the movies won't show you is the psychology of pain. Beyond the physical, the mere torture of awaiting pain is traumatising. The aftermath of that pain is haunting."

"Somewhere in between those two, Michael, is agony. Pain in the military is weaponized to do as little damage as possible, while causing the most amount of distress. So that there's more to keep breaking—" Mike glanced at Will, far more blatantly than before. All need for pretense slowly collapsing against the dreading weight in his chest. "—bending and slicing."

"Michael." Mike didn't respond to her beckoning, couldn't. All he could do was stare at Will, Will shaking his head, pleading—don't.

"Michael." 

Mike tore his gaze from Will and glowered at Dr Kay. "Will doesn't have to get hurt. Just tell me the truth." Her patient and kind tone was starting to grate against his nerves. "Where is subject Eleven and where are your other friends."

"Fuck you." 

For once, the words echoed. Ringing in Mike's ears and reverberating the hiss in his tone, like the ominous boom of a gong ringing against his ribcage. Dr Kay stared at him for a long moment. The patience in her gaze gone, evaporated so quietly and seamlessly, Mike would seem crazy for ever claiming her expression held any inkling of kindness no matter how farce. What remained was cold, hardened steel. A massive sheet of it that refused to give way to anything other than soul chilling apathy.

It was worse than staring at a Demogorgon, a warm, rabid, violent Demogorgon. Even though they had no eyes to look into, they were leagues more alive than she was.

When she closed her eyes in a sigh, Mike was glad to be rid of her gaze. With a nod, more for Mike than the soldiers flanking her—she made a gesture with her right hand still laying at her hip. It wasn't a complex set of motions, but it wasn't crude either. It clearly meant something. And upon the nonverbal order being issued, the soldiers holding Will's arms to his back let go.

Mike allowed the relief to scatter the dreading weight that was slowly crushing his chest, as Will pulled his arms to his front and massaged the inside of his elbows. 

Robert glared down at Will before glaring at Dr Kay, looking as if he'd been denied. But Dr Kay barely even glanced at him, extending her left hand out to Will as if to help him up.

Will stared at the offered hand, rightfully wary before looking up at Dr Kay. When she offered no response, he looked back down at her hand with greater confusion. And very evidently, she had run out of patience to give. Reaching out for Will's arm and upon being met with resistance, only tugging harder. She was surprisingly strong for someone her age.

She kept tugging till she got to his hand, clenched into a fist—no matter to her as she pried it open. The crushing weight slowly returned to Mike's chest, oozing ice cold rancid dread down his ribcage. Will brought his other hand to free the one caught in Dr Kay's unrelenting hold. The effort was meaningless and Will's hand scrambled for purchase it wouldn't get.

Then—!CRUCK!—the sound wasn't sharp like most bone fractures tended to sound. It was dense, as if the sound of snapping bone had gotten swallowed up by flesh. Mike recoiled the moment he heard it, before Will's guttural scream ripped gouges against his eardrums and echoed through his ribcage and settled itself between his ribs and lungs and squeezed the air out of them and promised to haunt his nights till he feared sleep.

The screams didn't lower in octave or pitch, they only turned into cries. Agonised cries and pained screams melded together. And Mike didn't realise he was struggling towards him till his vision went dark at the edges and lights blinked in and out of view. His windpipe burning beneath the pressure. The soldiers stopped holding him back by the throat when he began to slump but his struggle persisted. Pinning him to the ground face first instead. Giving him the time to draw breath into his lungs. Which he barely did, not only because every drawn breath ached against the searing of his windpipe, despite his lungs' desperation for it. Breathing as if every cell and fiber in his body wasn't screeching out—Will, just as desperate as his lungs, if not more so to reach him, was beyond difficult. It felt impossible, to do the same at once.

Then Dr Kay reached for another finger and Will's scrambling for his hand gained a frantic fervour.

"No! Stop—please! Please!"

"Where is Eleven." Dr Kay questioned once again. Tone cold and unyielding. All patience gone.

"Hawkins National Laboratory! That's where we left her." Mike let out in choked rasps.

"Why."

"I already told you!" He all but seethed at her before remembering himself. Remembering who was on the line. "She's going to stop Vecna, she needs a sensory deprivation tank to do it."

"Your friends?"

Her question barely reached him, as if he were hearing it from deep underwater. But Will's cries carried through loud and clear, almost resounding in their sharp quality. They were going to haunt his dreams for months to come, keep him dreading sleep and staring up at the ceiling till he knew every stain and wrinkle on it's surface. Mike strained against the hands pinning him to the ground, just to inch closer like a worm. Then the movement of Dr Kay's hands ensnared his gaze back.

"Wait!" Mike bellowed.

"Where are your friends." Her voice in stark contrast was cool and steady. Unfazed. Borderline cruel.

"They're climbing the Squawk radio tower to reach the Abyss."

"The Abyss?"

"Vecna! The mindflayer—you'd know all of this if you actually cared about saving the world!" Mike tried to lunge at her, to obviously no avail. "There's another dimension worse than this one and we're trying to stop it from colliding with ours! The opening to it is above Squawk radio tower!"

"Are there any Demogorgons in this Abyss."

"What? We don't know!?"

Dr Kay hummed, looking down at Mike as if contemplating. Before letting Will's hands go. Mike watched Will curl in on them, as if the slightest breeze would cause him great agony, as if even the faintest touch would be devastating.

Mike didn't see her nod for the soldiers to let him go, and the instant the weight of them let up, he was scrambling towards Will. Trembling hands reaching for his to assess the damage, gently pulling Will away just to see it. His middle finger was bent from the bottom, deformed. Some part of the bone having parted the flesh, shiny white peeking between blooming crimson, flowing and pooling into his hand.

Mike resisted the urge to retch out, gently covering Will's hand in his own trembling two. As if to protect him from the sight, before bringing Will closer. Hiding his face in the crook of his neck where Will weakly sobbed, as if his very strength had been siphoned out of him.

"I'm sorry—'m sorry, I'm so sorry, Will. I'm sorry—"

Mike whispered into Will's hair. Pleading and ashamed and remorseful all at once. Breathing the words into his hair till they became unintelligible murmuring and an excuse to press his lips against his head. Will only occasionally shook with a sob, Mike's shirt growing damp with his tears.

Kay tried to ignore the glint in Robert's eyes as he instructed her entourage. The imbecile glad for something to do, itching for someone to kill—as if he hadn't just been told the world was ending. And yet, calling him a fool would be hypocrisy on her part. The only reason she even entertained the idea of going to this “Abyss” was in the hopes she'd find creatures like the Demogorgons—or worse.

Biological killing machines who's only deficit is their capacity to be tamed and controlled. A capacity that was downright nonexistent. Especially without subject Eleven.

But the boy's whimpering, not William's. Mike's. It was getting on her nerves, grating against the infinitesimal sense of empathy she didn't even know she had.

Dr Kay outstretched her hand to Robert after he'd gotten his fill of power and their soldiers matched back to their vans. He only raised a single brow at her, bemused, before handing her his firearm. Maniac.

Mike barely looked up at her even as her approach was announced by the dull thud of her boots against the ground, where most of the men she'd seen tortured in interrogation would flinch. When he did finally look up at her looming over them both, it was to glower at her with bloodshot eyes. Hand cradling William's head as if to act as a barrier between him and the rounds in the firearm.

"Let me knock him out."

"What?!" Mike hissed back at her, beyond flabbergasted. Outright seething with pure, flesh and bone eroding venom. Kay would've shuddered if she wasn't fashioned out of raw, unyielding steel.

"I forget my own strength sometimes, I genuinely didn't mean to break his finger that badly." The venom in Mike's glower only seemed to grown in potency, as if he were to lunge at her there and then and rip her apart not unlike she'd seen Demogorgons do to her soldiers. Kay thought it was adorable.

"I'm assuming you're going to do something about it. And I guarantee you don't want him awake for that. Let me knock him out." Kay offered again. "See it as my thanks for telling me the truth. Eventually."

Mike glared at her for a long moment before looking back down at William. William who was still whimpering and hiccuping into his neck, his hands trembling if Kay bothered to look. The venom in Mike's gaze completely gone, replaced by something so haunted it could've only been founded on reverence. When Mike looked back up at her, it was with a detached resolve, as if he'd pulled himself as far from here as possible—just so he could bring himself to nod.

Kay brought the end of the firearm to the side of William's head, with just enough force to knock him out cold and minimise damage. Mike, despite the distant look in his eyes, flinched upon impact and clenched his eyes shut. Even while unconscious, William's face remained frowned in pain. And Kay walked away as Mike all but stared down at him with remorse and reverence.

Robert had already gotten into one of the vans. Most probably impatiently waiting on her, disappointed she hadn't used his firearm as he probably would've.

"Dr Kay?"

Mike beckoned to her, voice weak and rasped. Worn down by the hurt he was trying to restrain. On any other day, she would've ignored him and kept walking. Time wasn't on either of their sides if anything he said was true. But against her own judgement, she stopped. Entertained the little nuisance.

When she looked back at him, his eyes were still vacant, as if he were scrubbed hollow.

"You're going to die."

Only years of discipline kept her from recoiling and flinching back. Remaining unmoving like a cold sentinel. Perhaps he was warning her about the creatures in the “Abyss”, the Demogorgons that seemed so absent in the Upside Down. She had watched them tear through her soldiers and the best weapons at their disposal like they were twigs held together by fresh sap. Going after anything that wasn't subject Eleven, no matter how tempting, was lofty at best. A suicide mission at worst.

But Mike didn't elaborate. He only stared for a long moment, as if contemplating something. Staring down a precipice and deciding if the jump was worth it. Acknowledging he wouldn't be able to climb back up the wet rock or contest against the rush of water that would undeniably push him back down.

His vacant eyes hardened, a large sheet of titanium with no intention to give way or bend. Occasionally glinting with cold passion as if it were being fortified in real time.

"You're going to die."

He repeated, this time with certainty. As if there were no other reality to speak of. As if he'd been asked if the sky outside the Upside Down is blue.

"I'm going to kill you."

"..."

Kay said nothing for a long moment. Just stared right back at Mike, hand twitching against the trigger of her firearm. The rivulets of something chilled sliding down her spinal chord and dripping to the next. As something primordial within her nerves, buried deep within her mind began to hiss and whisper without coherence or intelligibility. A pit that dropped into the center of her brain and it's faint, moth­soft murmurings somehow managed to convey to her through the incoherence, to flee. To fight or flee without pause. Like the humming of multiple moths.

Then she remembered herself. Looking down at the nuisance clutching his friend so close to his chest as if to hide him between his heart and ribs. The right side of his jaw stained with the trickle of blood flowing from William's temple, beanie lost to the ground and hair in disarray. A frail nuisance lost to the tremors of adrenaline or fear, if not both.

And she walked away.