Archive of Our Own ^beta

A/N:

What's up, Kiddos?

I've had this sitting in the drafts for a couple weeks now debating on whether or not I should post it. I'm still not completely satisfied with it, but this is just for fun anyway so what the hell. Plus, I love time travel fics and there need to be more of them, so I'm contributing to the change I want to see in the world!

Anyway, please let me know what you guys think! Still haven't broken through the Byler fever yet so I will definitely be back with more soon!

Enjoy :)

Edit:

Omg guys??? This might be the most love I've ever gotten on a fic! Thank you all so much for your comments! Love you all!

Will had been visiting the ruins of Castle Byers for weeks now. He didn’t know why. He never touched it, never even went near it. He just sort of stood at a distance and stared at it until he got bored or felt himself going crazy, then he turned and made the long trek back to his bike and biked home.

Home was currently the Wheelers’ house, or more specifically, the Wheelers’ basement, as he and Jonathan had become household members number six and seven. It was a little claustrophobic having all those people in one house, but Will was pretty sure it’d be a whole lot less claustrophobic if it wasn’t for one Mike Wheeler.

Things between him and Mike had been weird. They’d been weird ever since California, and maybe even before that too. The worst part was, Will didn’t even know why. There were moments when sometimes everything felt normal. Mike and him would accidentally meet each other’s gaze across the dinner table while they were all laughing and share a smile. It was an instinct, a residual habit of being best friends for over a decade. But then, the smile would slip off of Mike’s face and he’d duck his head and go back to avoiding Will’s gaze, and Will would be reminded that whatever bond they used to share was gone.

It was slowly killing Will, but he’d had enough practice hiding his pain that he didn’t think anyone had noticed yet. Well, anyone besides Jonathan. He was pretty sure Jonathan knew, or at least suspected something.

Sometimes, Jonathan would catch him staring at Mike from across the room or see the way he stiffened when Mike made an effort to avoid brushing against him as they walked past each other in the hallway, and Jonathan would give him this look—like part of him wanted to wrap Will up in a hug and the other part of him wanted to murder Mike Wheeler.

Will didn’t know how to tell Jonathan that these looks didn’t make him feel any better about the situation. In fact, they made him feel worse because any external acknowledgement that Mike truly was ignoring him hurt; it made it feel real, and there was nothing Will wanted more than to be mistaken, for it all to be in his head and Mike to come to him one day with a big grin and ask Will to hang out in his room and read comic books like they used to when they were younger—when they were still friends.

Will was just putting on his shoes to head out for another visit to Castle Byers —his nerves singing, begging him to get out of this house, to get away—when a voice made him freeze.

“Where are you going?” 

It was Mike.

Will looked up from his shoes to stare at Mike. He was in a t-shirt and pajama pants, despite it being four o’clock in the afternoon. Will didn’t think he’d ever changed out of his sleep clothes from the night before. If things were normal between them, Will wouldn’t hesitate to tease Mike about it.

That was, if things were normal, which they weren’t.

“I’m, uh—” Will swallowed, suddenly feeling guilty even though he knew, logically, he’d done nothing wrong except maybe just exist “—Just going out. You know, to clear my head.”

“Where?” Mike’s voice and expression were neutral, his arms crossed over his chest as if he couldn’t care less about the conversation at hand, and that made Will irritated.

“Why’s it matter?”

Mike bristled. “I don’t know. Maybe because we’re in the middle of an apocalypse, end of the world—” he waved his hands “—whatever you want to call it! You can’t just go wandering the streets every time you get a little stir crazy!” 

Will nearly laughed. “Why do you care? You never have before!”

That got Mike to stop in his tracks, his scowl shifting into something more like a confused frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Will rolled his eyes. “It means I’ve left this house plenty of times without your permission before, Mike. I certainly don’t need it now.”

Before Mike could come up with a response to that, Will stood up, stalking over to the front door before he paused, his hand grasping the door handle. He turned back around.

“Don’t worry,” Will said, knowing that it was a ridiculous notion—that Mike hadn’t worried about him for quite some time now, “I’ll be back before dinner, so there’s no need to tell anyone that I’m gone.”

He opened the door, walking out and slamming the door behind him. Then, he took in a large breath, exhaling slowly.

Will shook his head. He had to stop letting Mike affect him like this. It was fine. He was fine. Will ignored the way his heart tripped up at the obvious lie.

The bike ride to the woods had a calming effect on Will. It was the beginning of summer, so the air around him was warm, even as the day slowly dipped into evening, but the stiff breeze that blew past him on his bike was cool and refreshing. It helped to clear Will’s mind and rid his chest of that pesky little weight that’d been sitting on it all day.

By the time Will made it to the edge of the woods, he felt like he could breathe again, a small smile nearly touching his lips as he meandered through the brush, picking his way past familiar trees until he finally arrived at the spot where the ruins of Castle Byers resides.

Will stood there for a moment, taking in the pile of sticks that used to be his childhood sanctuary. Despite its ruined state, Will still found it oddly enchanting, like a mirage, reminding him that he was young and happy once.

Just like every time he’d come, Will wondered why he was here. He wondered why he didn't move closer, maybe try to pick up the pieces of Castle Byers, or at least collect the belongings that he’d left there a lifetime ago. But a part of him knew that would be too much. He couldn’t fix things but he couldn’t fully move on either. 

So, he just stood there, watching, like a boy frozen in time.

Suddenly, a movement just behind Castle Byers caught Will’s attention. He froze, his whole body stiffening.

For the first time, Will wondered if maybe Mike had been right. Maybe he shouldn’t have come here. He didn’t even have a weapon on him for god’s sake. What if it was a Demogorgon? Will really, really hoped it wasn’t a Demogorgon.

Then, the thing moved, circling around the other side of Castle Byers so it was plainly in Will’s line of sight.

Will let out a breath as he realized that it wasn’t a monster at all, but a man. It was a little strange to see someone this far out into the woods, especially since the guy didn’t seem to be wearing hunting gear or anything else that would explain his presence here, but Will would take strange over deadly any day.

What was even stranger, however, was that the man seemed to be deeply fascinated with Castle Byers. He kept moving around it, his back still to Will as his fingers brushed over the rotting wood with a level of reverence only Will himself had ever shown it.

It made Will squirm. It felt like someone had taken one of his half-finished drawings and started scribblings all over it. Castle Byers was his. He’d made it himself, along with Jonathan’s help, he’d filled it with all of his prized possessions, all of his best memories. No one appreciated it the way he did. And no one was allowed to touch it the way he did either.

“Excuse me,” Will called out, loud enough to grab the man’s attention, “What do you think you’re doing?”

He didn’t mean for it to come out so accusatory, but he didn’t really feel like taking it back either. The man had intruded on his sanctuary. Will could be as curt with him as he liked.

The man whipped around at the sound of his voice, his hand falling back down to his side. “I was just—”

The man’s voice cut off abruptly, his eyes widening as he took in Will’s figure still hovering a short distance away.

Will felt himself squirm again, except this time his face heated up as well as the man’s eyes flitted over Will’s body, scanning him up and down. Was he checking Will out? Unlikely. But then, what was that look about?

Finally, the man’s eyes darted back up to Will’s face, holding his gaze for an agonizingly long beat. Then, his mouth opened and what came out next had Will flinching in surprise.

“Will?” the man said, soft and careful, like he couldn’t believe it was actually him.

Will’s mouth dropped open. “Wh—What? How do you know my name?”

The man took a step forward, and Will had to fight his greater instincts not to take a step back.

“Will,” the man said again, and Will couldn’t get over how the name seemed to roll off his tongue—so familiar, so… fond. “Will, it’s me.”

The man took another several steps forward before stopping a few feet in front of Will.

Will squinted at him. It took about two seconds of truly looking at the man before it hit him.

Will gasped.

It couldn’t be. It was impossible.

And yet, the resemblance was unmistakable. The dark, curly hair, the long nose, the sharp cheekbones, the wide, boxy shoulders. He was older, definitely older, but that didn’t matter. Will would recognize that face anywhere, at any time.

“Mike?” he breathed.

The man, the older version of Mike, grinned impishly at him, his mouth tugging slightly higher in one corner just like it always did when he was amused.

God, how could he look so similar and yet so different?

Will was annoyed to find out that the years had been good to Mike. He seemed to have grown into his body more, a wiry but solid frame replacing the gangliness of his teenage years. His face had filled out more too, not a lot, just enough to make his face look a little fuller, a little more rounded than the sharp, cutting angles Will was used to seeing. Somehow, the change made Mike’s smile look warmer, or maybe that was his eyes. Will couldn’t get over the little crows' feet around Mike’s eyes. 

Mike was still smiling at Will, so bright and open, like nothing pleased him more than to run into Will like this.

Will was pretty sure he was having a heart attack.

“Probably not how you’re used to seeing me,” Mike said, and Will was only just now appreciating the change in Mike’s voice as well. It was smooth and steady and carried a resonance to it that sent a shiver down Will’s spine. There was also a quiet kind of confidence in this Mike’s mannerisms that Will’s Mike didn’t possess. 

Mike raised his eyebrows, wiggling them teasingly, and Will felt the blood rush to his face so fast he nearly keeled over.

This was definitely what a heart attack felt like.

“Uh, I, y-yeah,” Will finally managed to stutter, feeling like smacking himself in the face.

Luckily, Mike didn’t seem to mind Will’s sudden awkwardness, sending Will another easy grin before he cast a glance back over his shoulder. “So,” he said before he turned back to face Will again, “I’m guessing that since the castle’s still in shambles, I came to your time and not the other way around.”

“The-The castle?” Will said uncomprehendingly.

“Oh, yeah. Forgot you wouldn’t know about that,” Mike said, “We fixed up Castle Byers ages ago. Well, I mean, I guess not ages ago for you, since it’s still in your future, but you know what I mean.”

Will continued to stare at Mike. There was a lot to process right now. He had a lot of questions, but there was one that seemed more important than the rest.

“We’re… we’re still friends in the future?” Will asked quietly, feeling embarrassed as soon as the words left his mouth.

Mike’s face instantly softened. “Yeah,” he said, with the kind of gentleness that almost sent Will to his knees, “Yeah, of course we’re still friends, Will. Nothing could ever change that.”

Will ducked his head, trying to bite back his relief before Mike noticed, but it seemed this Mike was a keener observer than the one Will knew too because he was already swooping in, pulling Will into a hug.

Will instantly melted in his arms.

Even if this wasn’t his mike, it was still a version of Mike, and Will loved every version of him.

“Hey,” Mike whispered, his hand coming up to pet Will’s hair. He’d never done that before, at least not that Will could remember, but for this Mike it seemed well-practiced, his touch soft yet firm, like he didn’t even question whether it would be welcome or not. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Will sunk even farther into the embrace, his hands gripping the back of Mike’s jacket like he was afraid he might evaporate between one moment and the next.

God, he’d missed Mike so much.

Surprisingly, it was Will that was the first to pull away. He thought that after several minutes of standing there, trying to comfort Will, Mike would grow restless. 

He didn’t. Or if he did, he didn’t show it, completely unwavering despite the awkwardly growing length of time Will spent holding onto him. 

When Will finally did pull away, Mike almost seemed reluctant to let him go, his hands sliding down Will’s arms before slowly dropping away. 

Will couldn’t meet his gaze. He was too embarrassed. Discreetly, he tried to wipe away the tears that’d begun to collect in his eyes. “Sorry, I don’t know what—”

“Will, it’s fine,” Mike said immediately, “You know you never have to apologize to me.”

Will let out a small, disbelieving laugh as he looked back up at Mike. “What?”

Mike shrugged, as if what he’d said made perfect sense and didn’t need explaining. 

Will didn’t know how to interpret that, so he tried to press on. “Um, so…” he looked away briefly before his eyes seemed to dart back to Mike without his permission. “Hi.”

Mike smiled widely. “Hi.”

Will blushed. “What—What are you doing here, Mike? I mean, this you. Is it… Upside Down related?”

Mike shook his head. He didn’t even seem to have to think about it. “No. The Upside Down is long gone. We made sure of that.”

Will couldn’t help but let out a heavy sigh of relief. 

“This is… something else. I’m sorry. I can’t tell you what. But it wasn’t because of anything bad, I promise.”

Will’s brow furrowed. “Why can’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know if telling you will change the future and I definitely don’t want to do that.”

“So, you’re saying you like your life the way it is now,” Will teased. 

He was caught off guard by Mike’s resounding and quite emphatic, “Yes, very much so.”

Will blinked. Mike, his Mike, didn’t seem very happy these days, moody and distant, even with people that weren’t Will. It was… nice to know that things got better for him. Really nice. 

Will smiled. “Good. I’m—I’m glad. You deserved to be happy, Mike.”

Mike chuckled. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” Mike said, shaking his head, “It’s just—I forgot how adorable you were at this age.”

“WHAT?” Will squeaked. 

Mike’s eyes twinkled with mirth, and Will reached forward and shoved him in the chest. 

“That’s not funny, Mike,” he whined. 

“Who said it was,” Mike asked, though he looked thoroughly amused. 

“Whatever,” Will said, “Just—don’t say stuff like that. And don’t look at me like that either.”

“Look at you like what?” The look in Mike’s eyes told him he knew exactly what he was talking about. “What? Is it suddenly illegal to look at my best friend?”

Will let out something that was a half-scoff, half-laugh. “You’re an idiot.”

“I’ve been told I get better with age.”

Will couldn’t help it. He looked Mike up and down, a small sigh escaping his lips. “Yeah.”

His eyes quickly snapped up to Mike’s face again and he blushed as he saw that Mike was smirking at him. 

“C-Come on,” he said, pivoting and beginning to walk away from Castle Byers, “We should go. It’s going to be dark soon.”

A second later, Mike was walking beside him. He was standing so close that their shoulders kept brushing up against each other. Will felt his face flame. Mike had to notice. It was impossible not to. But when Will risked a glance over at him, Mike was dutifully looking ahead, completely oblivious. 

God, this man was going to kill him. 

“So, where are we going?” Mike said after a short pause. 

Will’s steps faltered before he resumed them again. “I, uh, I don’t know. I was going to just take you home with me, but I guess I can’t do that.”

“Take me home with you?” Mike gasped, “Byers! We haven’t even had our first date yet!”

Will choked and nearly fell over a tree root. His head whipped around towards Mike. “Wha—no! That’s not—I wouldn’t—I wasn’t!”

Mike’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he threw his head back and laughed. Will desperately tried to stop his eyes from following the long line of his throat. 

Will didn’t know how his older self kept it together. He’d been in this man’s presence for less than ten minutes, and Will already felt like his brain was leaking out of his ears. He must develop some kind of Mike tolerance in the future, though he didn’t know how that was possible. 

Hopefully, he’d develop that tolerance soon so that he could stop pining after his Mike. 

“Relax, Will. I’m only joking,” Mike said once he’d finally calmed down from laughing. 

“I know,” Will said quickly, “And anyway, I just said I can’t take you home. Because, well, it’s your home—your house—and there’s already, like, eight people living there, so…”

“We’re still living at my parents’ house?” Mike said curiously. 

“Uh, yeah?”

Mike seemed to read Will’s confused expression because he said, “Sorry. Just trying to figure out the timeline here. So, Castle Byers. My house. Is it… 19… 85?”

“86,” Will corrected. 

Mike nodded. “Okay. Okay, that makes sense.” Then, he tenses. “Wait, so that means that the Upside Down is still—”

“Reeking havoc on Hawkins? Yeah, pretty much.”

For the first time since they’d met, Mike frowned. It was a little pouty, very much like the old Mike’s, which Will guessed made sense since they were the same person. Still, it was strange to see such a familiar expression on such an unfamiliar face. 

“Damn.” Mike scrubbed a hand over his face. “I really do not want to have to relive all that again.”

Will nodded sympathetically. He was pretty sure if he got sent back in time and had to deal with the Mind Flayer again he’d curl into a ball and start crying. He thought Mike was handling this whole situation very well. 

“Well, whatever,” Mike said, “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Hopefully, Jane and—”

He cut himself off, but it was already too late. 

Will’s eyes widened at the mention of El. It wasn’t just that he’d mentioned her either. It was that Mike had used her real name, her civilian name. 

Mike looked over at Will with a sheepish grimace. “Sorry. Spoilers.”

Will swallowed down the questions that had sprung to mind at Mike’s slip up. He couldn’t know. And anyway, he wasn’t completely sure he wanted to know the answers to some of them. 

“There’s a motel off of Chestnut Road,” Mike said after another minute of walking in silence. 

Will looked over at him in confusion. “What?”

“Since I can’t stay with you for the night, I can just crash there. I’ve got some cash in my pocket along with my license. That should be enough to get me a room.”

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good plan,” Will said, nodding along, “Do, uh, do you think you’ll be staying long?”

“I don’t know,” Mike said. Then, he bumped into Will’s shoulder, and this time, Will knew it had been deliberate. “But I’m hoping to stick around a little while longer. You know, if you wanted to check up on me tomorrow morning.”

Will broke out into a grin. “Yeah?”

It was strange to have Mike like this again—wanting him around, asking him to hang out. 

“Totally. What’s the point of being stuck in the wrong decade, if you can’t even spend it with your best friend?”

Will didn’t blush that time but he did feel his chest go warm and soft. He was sure that if Mike touched him now, his body would just cave in, allowing Mike to wrap his hand around his heart and carry it away with him. 

“You’re different,” Will can’t help but say. 

There was something unreadable in Mike’s expression as he swallowed and said, “You have no idea.” Then, he looked at Will with a soft smile. “But it’s still me.”

“Yeah.” Will smiled back. “Good.”

When they reached the road again, Will found his bike—Nancy’s old bike that she’d let him borrow for the summer. Mike whistled and called it a relic which made Will laugh. Even in his time, the bike was pretty old. 

After that, Will expected them to part ways, but Mike insisted on walking Will back to the house, so the two of them walked side by side as Will toted the bike alongside him. 

Since he was walking instead of biking, Will arrived at the house later than he’d expected. He checked his watch as they came up Mike’s familiar street. It was almost six. The Wheelers would be eating dinner soon, and he knew that if he wasn’t there, someone would notice his absence, if Mike hadn’t told them already. He probably hadn’t. 

Will stopped and turned towards Mike a couple of houses down from his destination. Mike stopped too. For a moment, the two just stood there, looking at each other. 

Will smiled. “Thanks for walking me back, Mike.”

Mike shook his head dismissively. “Like I would ever let you go alone. We’re in the middle of an apocalypse—end of the world—whatever.”

The words were so reminiscent of what Mike had said to him earlier. It punched Will in the gut. 

How could the two of them be so similar and yet so different? How could one call them best friends and seem to care so much while the other had done nothing but ignore Will for months?

“You did,” Will blurted out. 

Mike frowned, confused. “What?”

“Earlier,” Will said, “The other you. He saw me leave. He didn’t put up much of a fight to make me stay.”

Will internally winced. He made it sound like they’d had some sort of domestic. 

Mike’s frown deepened. “Yeah, well, he’s a dick.”

“Mike!” Will exclaimed, “You can’t say that!”

“Sure I can.”

Will pursed his lips. “Well, you shouldn’t. You’re not a dick.”

Mike squinted at him for a moment before his face relaxed and he sent Will a small, close-lipped smile. “Alright, fine. Not a dick. Just… a little bit of an idiot.”

“Well..” Will said with a teasing smile, “I guess I can’t disagree with you there.”

“Hey!” Mike laughed, shoving his shoulder, even though it’d been him that’d said it in the first place. 

Will chuckled. He looked at Mike, taking him in one last time before he let out a small sigh. “I should probably go. We’re having dinner soon.”

Mike’s face scrunched up. “Thats so weird.”

“What is?”

“That here we are, saying goodbye, meanwhile you’re about to head inside my parents’ house and have dinner with me,” Mike said, and Will had to agree. It was weird. Then, Mike said something that made Will’s whole body spasm. “Is it bad for me to say that I’m a little jealous of myself?”

Will choked. “Um, I…” he shook his head, laughing. “I take it back. You’re a complete idiot.”

Mike smiled at him. He looked so pleased with himself for having made Will laugh. Will had to get away from him as soon as possible. 

“Here,” Will said, shoving the bike at Mike. 

Mike took hold of the handlebars with a confused expression. 

“I… I don’t like the idea of you out here alone either,” Will admitted shyly, “This way you’ll get to the motel quicker, and I won’t have to worry as much.”

“But what will you tell, uh, me?”

“He won’t notice,” Will said dismissively, “And even if he does, I’ll just tell him I got a flat tire and had to leave it behind. I’ll stop by the motel tomorrow and get it back.”

“Ah,” Mike said with a teasing smirk, “So this is your excuse to see me again. Very smooth.”

A few hours ago, Will would have been a spluttering mess at a line like that but now he just leaned over and shoved Mike’s shoulder playfully. 

Then, Will turned and began to walk towards the Wheelers’ house. 

“See you tomorrow, Will! Miss you already!”

Will hurried away faster, the sound of Mike’s cackling laugh following after him. Okay, so maybe Mike could still get to him. 

By the time Will stumbled back into the house, his cheeks were still flaming red. He sat down on the couch, conscious of the sounds of someone shifting in the kitchen a room over—probably Mrs. Wheeler in the process of making dinner. He ripped off his shoes, muttering nonsense to himself, still trying to process how the hell his day had turned out like this. 

Another Mike. 

An older Mike. 

Will laid a hand over his heart, feeling it pound beneath his palm. 

“Where were you?”

Will’s head snapped up to find Mike, his Mike, looming in the doorway, a dark scowl on his face.

It was disorienting to see the familiar planes of Mike’s face when he’d spent the last two hours staring into the face of one about ten years older than him. 

“N-No where,” Will stuttered. He knew Mike wasn’t convinced by the way he raised one eyebrow skeptically. He didn’t blame him. He probably looked a mess, his chest heaving and his cheeks still painted with a faint flush, eyes wide and guilty-looking. 

“Did you take the bike?”

“No. I mean, yes. Yeah, I did. But it got a flat tire. I was gonna go back and get it tomorrow.”

Mike squinted at him. “Why didn’t you just walk it back with you?”

Shit. Will hadn’t thought about that. “I—I was tired. Don’t worry. I’ll get it tomorrow.”

Will stood up and ran out of the room before Mike could question him further. He hid in the basement, needlessly tidying the space until, finally, Mrs. Wheeler called him up for dinner. 

Throughout the meal, Will refused to look at Mike, but he could feel the other boy’s eyes on him nonetheless, boring into the side of his face from where he sat diagonally across the table. 

At one point, Mike pointedly asked Will to pass the salt shaker by his elbow. Will startled so badly he knocked the shaker over. 

Mrs. Wheeler brushed over the incident with a joke about how spilled salt meant bad luck, and Nancy and Jonathan both chuckled weakly, always the ones who tried the hardest to match Mrs. Wheeler’s attempts at conversation. 

A minute later, however, Will could still feel Mike’s eyes on him. He looked up then, just to make sure he wasn’t crazy. 

His eyes locked with Mike’s. For once, Mike didn’t look away, his gaze remaining steady, his dark eyes intense. Will thought that Mike had picked a rather inconvenient time to become suddenly invested in his life again. A week, heck, even a day ago, Will would have been flattered by the attention. Now, it just annoyed him. 

After dinner, Will stuck close by Mrs. Wheeler’s side, helping her with the dishes. He couldn’t even really call it an avoidant tactic because he always helped her, wanting to alleviate the burden of his presence in her house. Jonathan was the same, except he always helped Mrs. Wheeler make the meals. He also sometimes helped Mr. Wheeler with the yard work. Will didn’t know how he did it. He would rather scrub all of the toilets in the house than spend one on one time with Mr. Wheeler—not because he’d ever been mean to Will or anything; he just had that kind of quiet presence that made you feel like you were constantly being judged. 

Eventually though, the kitchen and dining table were spotless again, and Mrs. Wheeler released Will from her company. 

“Go on,” she said with a smile, “I know you’re dying to go hang out with Mike.”

That was another thing that made everything so awkward. Mike’s mom still thought they were best friends. He didn’t know how she hadn’t yet noticed that he and Mike didn’t really talk anymore, though he supposed she was often too busy with housework or taking care of Holly to take note of the current state of his and Mike’s disintegrating friendship. 

“Thanks, Mrs. Wheeler,” Will said, “And thanks for dinner too. It was really good.”

Mrs. Wheeler sent him a small smile as Will departed from the kitchen. He was just thinking about trying to convince Jonathan to watch a movie with him on the old tv set in the basement—maybe Back to the Future, for research purposes or something—when he abruptly halted, his socked-feet sliding a little on the wood flooring. 

Sitting on the top of the steps leading to the basement was Mike. He had his head down, his hands folded and draped lazily over his knees but his head immediately snapped up at the sound of Will’s approach. 

The two stared at one another for a long moment—Will, very much confused and Mike, with that damn unreadable expression that’d seemed to have become his resting face over the last several months. 

“Can we talk?” Mike said, still not getting up from his position on the stairs. 

“Uh.” Will didn’t know what to say. Something about Mike’s words sent a shot of terror down his spine. He couldn’t help but think that this was the moment he’d been dreading since he’d moved into the Wheelers’ house, the moment Mike ripped off the bandaid for good. 

“I’m actually kind of tired,” Will said lamely, “I was just about to head to bed.”

Mike looked unimpressed. 

It was clearly a lie. It wasn’t even seven o’clock yet, and Will wasn’t the kind of person who sought out extra sleep. If anything, he avoided sleeping like the plague, dreading the dark, cold embrace of nightmares and haunting memories that always seemed to await him on the other side of consciousness. 

And anyway, why was he lying? Why was he putting this off? They had to end the friendship sometime, right? The last thing Will wanted was to continue this slow petering out process. And yet, he wasn’t ready to let Mike go. 

“You know, you used to think twice before lying to me,” Mike said, jolting Will back into his body. 

Will tensed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mike shrugged, unbothered—always so unbothered. Then, he stood, facing Will like he expected him to start moving. “Come on. Let’s go up to my room.”

Will maintained the belief that the only reason why he even listened to Mike was because he was too surprised to argue. He just pivoted, leading the way up the stairs to Mike’s room before he was even fully conscious of what he was doing. 

At the threshold in front of Mike’s closed bedroom door, however, Will hesitated. He didn’t know why. Mike had told him to come here. Still, some part of him felt like he no longer had the right to enter the room. It was just so Mike. Will had too many memories of sleeping on his floor, talking and giggling with Mike late into the night. Going inside that room, knowing what he knew now, felt like a desecration of holy ground. 

Mike didn’t seem to understand this because he shoved past Will, actually touching him for once, as he opened the door and waltzed in like he owned the place—probably because he basically did. 

Will followed after him. He debated for a moment on whether he should shut the door, leave it cracked, or leave it completely open. 

Then, Mike started pulling off his shirt, and Will shut the door quickly, worried that Nancy or, god forbid, Mr. Wheeler would walk by and question why Will was with a shirtless Mike. 

Then, Will had the terrible realization that he’d just closed himself in a room with a shirtless Mike. Will refused to turn around, staring blankly at the wood grain on the door, his cheeks burning as he heard the sounds of Mike rummaging around in his dresser drawers behind him. 

Why the hell had Mike taken his shirt off? He’d already been in his pajamas. Unless he was going out somewhere. But where would he be going? Was he going to ask Will to come along too? What was happening?

Mike broke through Will’s internal panicking with a sharp snort. “You can turn around now.”

“Are you—”

“Fully clothed,” Mike assured him in a deadpan manner. 

Will turned around slowly, still avoiding looking at Mike’s face as he walked over to the hamper in the corner of his room, tossing his old shirt haphazardly into it.

“I got pasta sauce on it,” Mike explained, “Didn’t know you’d suddenly turned into a monk or something.”

“‘M not a monk,” Will mumbled. 

“Fine. Prude. Whatever you want to call it,” Mike said flippantly. He moved over to his desk, grabbing a stack of loose papers before shoving them into a drawer. Will wondered if he’d done it because he wanted to hide the papers from Will for some reason or if he was just looking for something to do, an excuse to prolong the inevitable. 

“Not a prude either,” Will found himself saying, “You just… surprised me.”

Mike grunted. He’d moved on to picking up a fallen sweatshirt from the middle of his floor and now Will knew he was stalling. 

“Mike,” he said, sharper than he’d intended. Mike flinched before resuming what he’d been doing, walking over to the hamper to deposit the sweatshirt. “Would you just—” Will walked up to him, grabbing Mike by the shoulders so that he’d face him “—talk to me. You’re the one who invited me up here, remember?”

Mike’s eyes flicked up to his before he took a step back, out of Will’s reach. He threw the sweatshirt down, his profile just visible to Will as he said in a low voice, “Who was that with you earlier?”

Will froze. “What?”

“That man,” Mike said, spinning back around to face him, “The one you gave Nancy’s bike to.”

Will’s eyes widened. “You—You saw that?”

Mike’s face pinched in annoyance. “Yes, Will, I saw that. What the hell? Who was he?”

“No one.”

“Didn’t seem like no one.”

“Look, Mike, it’s just—it’s none of your business, alright? I told you I’d get the bike back tomorrow, and I will.”

“Who cares about the stupid bike!” Mike shouted, throwing up his hands before leveling an accusing finger at Will, “I wanna know what you were doing with that guy. You two looked pretty… cozy.”

Will couldn’t help the strangled laugh that bubbled out of him. This was too ridiculous. 

“Oh, so you think this is funny, do you?” Mike said, narrowing his eyes, “I don’t care what kind of bullshit he told you, Will. You can't just go around befriending older men like that. He could be a—a predator!”

“He’s definitely not a predator,” said Will, “And he wasn’t that old.”

“And how would you know?” Mike demanded loudly. 

“Okay, okay,” Will stepped forward, raising his hands placatingly, “Lower your voice, Mike. Your family is going to think—”

“My family? What about yours? What do you think Jonathan would think if I told him about what I saw?”

Will shot Mike a dark look. “Don’t. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Mike said petulantly. 

Don’t act like you’re doing this for my own good. Don’t act like you care when I know you don’t. 

Will let out a heavy sigh. “Can’t you just let it go. You don’t need to know everything about my life, Mike.”

“Well, I used to!” Mike said heatedly, “Now, I’m not sure if I know anything about you anymore!”

“And who’s fault is that?” Will shot back. He bit his lip, turning back towards the door. He couldn’t do this. 

Mike’s hand clamped down on his wrist.

Will hated how he instantly stilled at the touch. 

“Wait,” Mike said. Will turned to look at him over his shoulder, surprised by the sudden turn in his tone, far more gentle than it had been only seconds ago. Mike stared at him for a moment. Then, slowly, he said, “Will… you’re… you can’t…”

Will desperately wished Mike would just finish a sentence. 

“You live in this house,” Mike said finally, “And whether you like it or not, that means that we’re connected—all of us. We’re in this together. So, if you’re putting my family at risk somehow, I think I deserve to know.”

Will’s shoulders slumped. 

Mike had a point. It was unfair of Will to ask him to drop when, if the roles were reversed, Will knew he’d never be able to let it go. 

And besides, if anyone had a right to know what was going on, it was Mike. 

“Alright,” Will said quietly, “You’re right. I’ll—I’ll tell you.”

“You will?” Mike said. He sounded surprised like he hadn’t expected Will to actually relent so quickly. 

Will nodded. “I’ll show you. Tomorrow.”

“But can’t you just—”

“Trust me. It’ll be easier that way.”

Mike looked at him for another several seconds, searching Will’s face before he finally dropped Will’s wrist with a nod. 

“Okay. Tomorrow.”

 Will slipped out of Mike’s room a couple of moments later only to run into Jonathan who was just leaving Nancy’s room. The two of them froze, staring at each other with matching startled expressions. 

Jonathan’s eyes flickered over to Mike’s bedroom door, his eyebrows raising. 

Will huffed, knowing his brother was already turning over the implications of Will and Mike seemingly talking again. He jerked his head towards the stairs, silently letting Jonathan know that they could talk about it down in the basement. 

They both slunk down, past the sounds of Mr. Wheeler watching tv in the living room, to what had become their makeshift bedroom. 

Will had barely taken his foot off the basement steps when Jonathan said, “So, you guys are talking again?”

Will moved farther into the room, avoiding Jonathan’s gaze. “Uh, yeah. Sort of… no, not really.”

Jonathan’s brow knitted. 

Will walked over and sat on the air mattress that was his bed. Jonathan slowly walked over, taking a seat on the space beside him. 

“Sounds complicated,” Jonathan stated. 

Will chuckled. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

There was a long pause as Jonathan waited for Will to find the right words. Jonathan had always been good at creating space for Will to speak when he was ready. He was a good brother.

He was more than just Will’s brother though. He’d helped raise him. He was a parent, a sibling, a best friend. 

Will looked up into Jonathan’s eyes and he knew he couldn’t lie to Jonathan. Maybe he’d gotten better at lying to Mike, but he couldn’t do that to Jonathan.

Will opened his mouth, closed it, paused, then opened it again. “Okay,” he said, psyching himself up, “Okay, but before I tell you this, just remember what our lives are like, okay? Just remember that.”

Jonathan’s mouth pulled up at the corner. “I know. Trust me, Will, I don’t think anything you could say would faze me anymore.”

Will looked at Jonathan skeptically before he blurted out, “I met Mike today.”

Jonathan squinted in confusion. “You mean, you talked to him, in his bedroom.”

Will shook his head. “I mean, I talked to him in the woods, by Castle Byers.”

Jonathan cocked his head. “What were you two doing there?”

“I was—I just needed to get away. I just needed a second to breathe without, without everything, everyone… without Mike. Except when I got to Castle Byers, someone was already there.”

“Mike,” Jonathan supplied. 

“Um, well,” Will started, “He looked a lot like Mike, only he was older, like, maybe ten years older.”

“Will, you’re not making any sense. Was it Mike or just someone who looked like Mike?”

“Both. It was… it was Mike… from the future.”

Jonathan gaped. 

“And I know it sounds crazy, but it was him! I know it was! I think somehow he got sent to the past and it was just a coincidence that I was the first one to find him. He ended up walking me home,” Will continued to explain, speaking rapidly now, “And Mike, the real Mike, must have seen him from the window or something because he confronted me about it after dinner. And I promised to take him to see him tomorrow at the motel off of Chestnut, which is where he’s spending the night. And it’s—it’s a lot, but, Jonathan, he was really nice. I mean, he said we were still friends in the future and he even seemed happy to see me. And I just—I was so relieved. Because things haven’t been great between us lately, and Mike keeps pulling further and further away, but maybe it won’t always be like that. Maybe, in the future, we’ll be better. And—And we’ll be friends again. Like real friends.”

“Will,” Jonathan said after a long moment, and immediately, Will didn’t like his tone, “Are you sure it was… him? You know, and not, like, an illusion or something?”

“What? No!”

“I’m not—I’m not saying you hallucinated it or anything, but what if it’s a trick—from Vecna.”

“It wasn’t.”

“But how do you know? Did he tell you anything about himself?”

“Well, no,” Will said, but upon spotting Jonathan’s skeptical look he added, “But that’s just because he didn’t want to ruin the timeline! He can’t tell me anything!”

“You don’t think that’s a little convenient?”

“Ugh, why are you pushing this so much? Why can’t you just believe me!”

“Look, Will, I’m not trying to be a dick or anything. I just think that we should approach this carefully… just in case.”

“Right.” Will crossed his arms over his chest as he angled his body away from Jonathan. He wasn’t pouting; he was justifiably upset. “Well, I’m going to see him again tomorrow. I’ll get proof that it’s really him, then you’ll see.”

“Fine,” Jonathan said, “But I’m coming with you.”

“What?”

“This isn’t negotiable, Will. Even if it really is Mike, then that means we’re talking about time travel. I mean, real life time travel. You’re going to need all the help you can get.”

Will wanted to object but he knew Jonathan was right. They had no way of knowing what they were dealing with yet. They had to be cautious. 

He would show Jonathan though. Tomorrow. He would prove to him that it really was Mike. 

He wasn’t wrong. He knew he wasn’t wrong. 

Will spent the first half of the night tossing and turning under the covers. 

What if he was wrong?

What if it hadn’t been Mike?

What if it was just another lie of Vecna’s lies and he’d fallen for it because he wanted to believe that it was true. 

What felt like hours of lying in the dark, worrying, waiting, Will’s eyes finally started droop. His blinks got longer and more frequent until, finally, he fell asleep. 

Will awoke the next morning to sunlight streaming into his eyes from one of the short windows near the ceiling. He squinted with a small groan, shifting away from the light into a nearby shadow. 

Will’s brows knitted when he realized that the shadow belonged to Jonathan, who was looming over his bed with a tight expression. Mike was standing just behind him, looking similarly broody. 

“Um… hi?” Will said, his voice still groggy with sleep. He shifted up onto his elbows, looking between the two of them as he reached up with a closed fist and rubbed at his eye. “Exactly how long were you guys going to stand there and watch me sleep?”

“We weren’t—”

“We were just about to wake you,” Jonathan cut in, “Did you sleep at all last night?”

Will shrugged. “A little. What time is it?”

“Just past nine.”

“Alright.” Will looked between the two of them again, noting the anxious impatience behind their eyes. He let out a soft sigh. “I suppose you guys want to leave now?”

“You can have breakfast first, but yeah, ideally sooner rather than later,” Jonathan said. 

Will pulled back the covers and stood up, stretching his arms over his head. He paused, dropping them back down to his side as he realized Mike and Jonathan were still staring at him. Jonathan looked worried, which wasn’t surprising, but Will couldn’t read Mike’s expression. He seemed to be looking somewhere around Will’s torso area before snapping back up to Will’s face. Then, he quickly looked away. 

Will raised his eyebrows. “I can find my own way upstairs. You don’t need to wait around for me.”

Mike and Jonathan exchanged a look, somehow having a whole conversation through just their eyes, though what they were saying Will had no clue. 

“We’ll be in the kitchen,” Jonathan said finally and the two climbed up the stairs, leaving Will alone in the basement. 

Will shook his head. Those two were so weird. 

He dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of khaki shorts and a black clash t-shirt that’d been Jonathan’s until he grew out of it a couple of years ago. It was worn, probably one of the softest things Will owned. He usually didn’t wear it out of the house as it was more of a sleep shirt, but the shirt grounded him in a way, and if the day ended up going anything like how Will imagined it, he’d need all the help he could get to remain sane. 

Finally, after tugging on a pair of socks, Will climbed up the stairs. Jonathan set down a plate of eggs, sliding the syrup across the table, anticipating Will’s request. 

Will sat down and tentatively began to eat. He noted that Mike had disappeared but he didn’t bother to ask where. 

“Aren’t you gonna eat,” Wil asked after swallowing another bite of eggs. 

“Me and Mike already ate. Mrs. Wheeler cooked for us earlier.”

“How long have you both been up?”

“About an hour or so,” Jonathan said. He leaned back in his seat across the table from Will. “He has no idea who we’re meeting, does he?”

Will quickly took another bite of food so he’d have an excuse not to speak as he shook his head, avoiding Jonathan’s gaze. 

“Will,” he admonished. 

“I don’t want to tell him until we’re sure. Like you said, I… I could be wrong. Or if it really is him, the less he knows the better. Who knows what would happen if he learned too much about his future. It could ruin everything.”

“If that’s the case, do you really think we should be bringing him along with us?”

Will grimaced. “Maybe not, but we can’t exactly disinvite him now. He’d—”

“Totally freak. I know.” Jonathan sighed. He bit his lip, thinking hard for a long moment before he spoke up again, hesitant, like he already knew what Will was going to say. “Do you think we should bring a weapon?”

“No,” Will said sharply. 

“Will, we have to consider—”

“I have considered it,” Will snapped, “And if it really is Vecna or—or something, then a gun’s not going to kill him anyway.”

“It couldn’t hurt.”

“No guns,” Will said firmly. 

Jonathan raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, fine.”

They maintained an awkward silence until Will finally finished the last of his food, carrying his plate over to the sink. 

Almost as if he’d gotten alert the exact moment Will had finished his food, Mike appeared in the doorway. “Ready?”

Jonathan looked over at Will, who nodded, feeling anxiety start to stir in the pit of his stomach. 

“Where are you all going?” Mrs. Wheeler said, catching the three of them just as they were leaving out the front door.

“Uh, we were just—” Will began. 

“Going to the video store,” Mike cut in, “We were thinking of doing a Star Wars marathon.”

“Don’t you boys ever get sick of rewatching those movies all of the time?” Mrs. Wheeler laughed. 

“We haven’t watched them since last February. That’s over a year, so it’s not like we watch them all the time,” Mike pointed out. 

Will looked at him with wide eyes. He remembered rewatching the trilogy. He and Mike had watched it together, just the two of them. It’d taken them nearly the whole day to actually get through them because they both kept pausing to make commentary or get more snacks. At one point, they’d paused the movie for half an hour, too busy engrossed in talking and laughing with one another. Mike kept throwing pretzels at him, and Will had tried to scold him through his laughter that he was going to make a mess of the couch and get them both in trouble. 

It had been… a really nice day. 

He couldn’t believe that Mike remembered it. Or maybe that wasn’t what surprised him. It was the fact that Mike had remembered it so quickly, throwing out the line with barely a moment’s thought. 

Will tried to catch Mike’s eyes, wanting to see if the memories were flashing through his mind like they were for Will, but Mike kept his eyes steadfastly fixed on his mom as she made a comment about not spending their entire summer indoors and waved them all goodbye. 

With that, they all piled into Jonathan’s car, taking the short drive to the Motel 6 at the edge of town. 

Jonathan pulled into the parking lot, putting the car in park before turning to look at Will, who was sitting in the passenger’s seat next to him. Then, he looked at Mike in the backseat with a significant look. 

Will could hear exactly what Jonathan was trying to say. 

This is your last chance to tell him what’s waiting for him. 

Will shook his head. 

“Come on. What are we waiting for?” Mike said, getting out of the car. 

Will and Jonathan followed suit, and the three of them wandered down the row of motel rooms until they finally found the one with Nancy’s bike parked out in front of it. 

Will pushed to the front before Mike or Jonathan could think about going for the door. Then, he turned back to face them, wringing his hands nervously. “Maybe I should go first and—”

“Just knock,” Jonathan and Mike said in unison. 

“Alright. Alright.” Will turned back around, raised his fist, and knocked.

A couple of seconds later, the door swung open and the three of them were greeted with the sight of a twenty-something-year-old Mike Wheeler. 

The older Mike broke out into a wide smile. “Will, you came!”

Will grinned back, warmth slipping into his tone as he said, “Hey, Mike.”

Then, Older Mike’s eyes shifted to look over Will’s shoulder and his expression faltered. 

“Sorry,” Will said sheepishly, “I was going to come alone, but they insisted.”

Older Mike smirked. “Why am I not surprised?” Then, he stepped back, sweeping his arm in a welcoming gesture. “Come on in.”

Will spared a glance back at Mike and Jonathan and their wide-eyed, open-mouthed expressions before stepping inside. 

The others shuffled in behind him, still too shocked to speak. 

Will cleared his throat as Older Mike closed the door behind them. 

“You got the motel room,” he said, in lieu of anything better to say, “That’s… good.”

“I’ve definitely slept in better places.”

“Worse too, I imagine.”

Older Mike chuckled. “Also true.”

“Did you eat yet,” Will asked.

“Nah,” Older Mike said, “But that’s okay. I’m not that hungry.”

“Here.” Will pulled out a granola bar he had snagged from the Wheeler house earlier out of his shorts pocket, handing it over. “Sorry I didn’t grab more.”

Older Mike took the granola bar with a reverent touch, shooting Will another smile. “Knew you loved me.”

Will choked, his cheeks flushing a dark red. His eyes darted over to Mike who was glaring daggers at his older self. Jonathan, meanwhile, was looking at Will with an all too knowing gaze.

Will staunchly refused to look at either of them after that.

“So,” Will said, looking back at Older Mike, “I need to ask you something.”

“Anything,” Older Mike said immediately.

Will bit his lip. He really had to stop saying stuff like that, especially in front of the younger Mike. Will did not want to know what he thought about all of this. Or, more specifically, what he thought of how comfortable his older self seemed with Will while they were… whatever they were right now. Estranged? Awkwardly avoiding one another?

“We were wondering—Well, they were wondering—Jonathan mostly,” Will said, “But, um, yeah. I think we’d all feel better if you could maybe tell us a little something about yourself? I know you can’t disclose much because it might mess with the timeline, but we just need to make sure that you’re…”

“Really me?” Older Mike finished.

Will nodded. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I get it.”

“If it makes you feel better, I already believe you.” Will didn’t know why he’d said that. Not that it wasn’t true but it was embarrassing that he’d trust anything as long as it wore a pretty face—well, as long as it wore Mike’s face.

Older Mike smiled. “That does make me feel better. Thanks, Will.”

“I don’t believe you,” a sharp voice cut in.

Older Mike rolled his eyes. “I know you don’t,” he said to his younger self.

Mike scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I know how you think. And I know what you think.” Older Mike smirked meanly. “In fact, I know what you’re thinking right now.”

“Fuck off,” Mike spat, though Will could see that Older Mike’s words had gotten to him as he shifted around nervously.

“Okay, that’s enough. Mike—Mike.” Jonathan looked between the two Mike’s before shaking his head. “Gah. Whatever. You know what I mean. Can we just focus here? We need to make sure that this isn’t another one of Vecna’s tricks. You understand that, right?” This last part he directed at Older Mike, who sobered up and nodded.

Older Mike moved to sit on the made bed pressed up against the wall. Will sat down on it too, although he left several feet of space between them.

Jonathan took to leaning against the bedside table, his arms crossed comfortably over his chest, while Mike stayed standing, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he lingered a little farther away from the rest of the group, staring resolutely at the carpet.

“Okay,” Older Mike said, “What do you want to know?”

“How about let’s start with the basics, yeah? How did you get here?”

Older Mike’s face pinched. “I can’t tell you that.”

“What do you mean you can’t tell us that?” Jonathan said testily.

“It has to do with certain things—certain events none of you know about yet. All you need to know is that Jane and the others are going to get me back, so I won’t be here forever. We just need to give them more time.”

“Jane?” Mike piped up, his face screwing up.

“El. Eleven.” Older Mike waved a hand dismissively. “She prefers Jane now.”

“Okay, fine,” Jonathan said, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Can you tell us something about yourself—something that would prove your identity?”

Older Mike tilted his head, consideringly. “Um, I have two sisters—Nancy and Holly. I grew up in Hawkins, Indiana where I met my best friends Lucas and Dustin. And Will, obviously.” He faltered, unsure of what to say next. “Um, there’s another dimension underneath Hawkins that we call the Upside Down. It’s full of monsters similar to dnd which tried to kill us for years, but it’s gone now.”

Older Mike looked around the room at them, his eyes lingering on Jonathan.

“You get into NYU. Digital photography. It’s—It’s kind of the new thing now. Better than film cameras and stuff, though you still argue that film cameras are classic and cool.” Older Mike’s mouth tugged up in a small smile.

Jonathan looked like he was trying not to be convinced but Will could see the way his eyes lit up with what looked like a mix of hope and pride.

“And you—” Older Mike turned to Will, his expression softening “—You get out of Hawkins too. And you’re—you’re still a really great artist. I think all of our houses have at least one Will Byers painting in them.” Older Mike smiled. “Wouldn’t be a real home without one.”

Will flushed. “Really?”

Older Mike nodded. “Yeah. And…” he looked into Will’s eyes like he was seeing something even Will didn’t see in himself yet. “You find people like you. People who understand.”

Will’s eyes widened. 

He couldn’t mean… did he know? And he was still friends with Will?

Older Mike’s face grew sad at seeing the surprise on Will’s face but he swallowed, fixing his face as he finally turned his gaze on his younger self.

For a moment, the two Mikes just stared at each other. 

“Well?” Mike snapped eventually. 

Older Mike looked like he was struggling not to groan as he shot Jonathan a sympathetic look and said, “I swear, I do not remember being this annoying.”

That startled a laugh out of Jonathan, while Mike let out an incredulous: “Hey!”

Will giggled. 

“What? Not gonna defend me?” Older Mike said, casting a curious look in Will’s direction. 

“Did you expect me to?”

“I mean, kind of,” Older Mike said. 

“You’re my best friend, Mike,” Will said seriously, “I’m well aware of how annoying you can be.”

Older Mike held Will’s gaze for a beat before the two of them burst out laughing. 

It was the first time they’d laughed together in months, and although it was with the wrong Mike, it made Will’s chest flutter. 

Then, Will accidentally caught Mike’s eye and his laughter petered out when he saw the dark expression painted over his friend’s face. 

“You must have something,” Will blurted out, wanting desperately to get that look off of Mike’s face. “I mean, it’s you. No one knows you better, right?”

Older Mike nodded. “Yeah, I suppose. Just—give me a second to think.” He squinted at Mike for a long moment, thinking, until finally he said, “Okay, um, okay. I know why you grew your hair out.”

He gestured to Mike and his shoulder length hair. The older Mike had short hair, cropped around his ears. It made his hair look even curlier. Will couldn’t decide which he thought looked better. 

Mike narrowed his eyes but he didn’t jump to interject, so Older Mike continued. 

“You wanted to look more like Eddie. You liked hi—his hair.” Older Mike stuttered. “You thought it’d make you look cool like him. And maybe you hoped that if you looked more like him, you’d stop caring what other people thought of you—just like he did.”

Older Mike leveled Mike with a serious look. 

“You really should stop caring what other people think. The sooner you learn that, the better off you’ll be.”

Both Will and Jonathan turned to look at Mike, waiting for his approval. 

Mike’s eyes were wide. He looked inexplicably caught, his gaze darting around the room, unable to land on any one thing for more than a second. Then, he looked down at the ground, his gaze turning inward, searching for something that he couldn’t quite grab hold of. 

“Mike?” Will said. 

“The date,” Mike said suddenly, looking up into the face of his older self, “Tell me the date.”

“I can’t tell you what time I come from. It could—” Older Mike stopped short as he seemed to read something in Mike’s expression that the rest of them couldn’t. The two Mikes stared at each other for a long moment, Mike’s expression dark and intense, like he was daring Older Mike to do something he didn’t want to do. Finally, Older Mike let out an explosive sigh and hung his head. Then, so quiet it was almost a whisper, he said, “November 6th, 1983.”

A heavy silence fell over the room. 

Will knew immediately what that date meant. Of course he did. It was the worst day of his life. He just didn’t understand why Mike would bring it up now, why he would make himself say that.

Then, Older Mike looked up, his eyes moving over to Will as if he were being pulled by a magnet. He looked sad, heartbroken even. In that single expression, Will could read everything Mike had never said—all of the guilt he felt over not being able to stop Will from being taken, the anguish he felt in the week following that night, the lingering fear and paranoia that he’d carried with him everyday after that.

The weight of it all hit Will square in the chest. He and Mike had never really talked about it after Will had come back. Mike had always brushed it off like it was something that belonged to a past life, and Will had let him, had wanted to forget it too.

But Mike had asked Older Mike to prove himself. He’d said, tell me the date, and without any further context, his older self had provided.

That answer, coupled with the emotional look Older Mike had instinctively sent Will said more than enough.

“He’s not lying. It’s me,” Mike said before directing his words at his older self, “I still don’t like you though.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be you if you did,” Older Mike muttered, “Now what? We gonna all hold hands? Play a game of clue?”

“Actually, we should probably go,” Jonathan said, and Will’s head snapped up. 

“What? Why?”

“Because Mrs. Wheeler will be expecting us back soon, with dvds, which we don’t have.”

“But—” Will looked over at Older Mike with a frown. It felt like they’d just arrived. They couldn’t leave him now. Will still had so many question. And even if Older Mike couldn’t answer most of them, even if he couldn’t answer any of them, Will just wanted to be around him. It felt nice having his best friend again, one who listened and looked at him, one who wanted him around. 

“It’s okay, Will. You can visit me again tomorrow,” Older Mike said consolingly. 

“But what if you’re not here tomorrow? You said you could go back at any moment. What if we never see you again?” Will said desperately. 

“I’m literally right here,” Mike said. 

“It’s not the same!” Will exclaimed before he realized what he’d said and ducked his head in shame. “I mean—” Will picked at the bedsheet beneath his palms “—I don’t know what I mean. Forget it.”

“I’ll still be here tomorrow,” Older Mike said. Will looked up, meeting his gaze. “I promise. And I’d never break a promise to you, Will.”

Will’s lips twitched. 

Mike let out a loud, disgusted groan that had Will shriveling up, the half-smile dying before it could even fully form. 

“Could you give us a moment?” Older Mike said, his eyes fixing on Mike. 

Mike rolled his eyes as Will and Jonathan made their way to the front door. 

Older Mike followed, Will turning to him as they reached the doorway. 

“Are you sure—”

“Will, stop worrying,” Older Mike cut in gently, “Everything’s gonna be fine. I’m living proof of that, aren’t I?”

He spread his arms, a small grin overtaking his features, but Will could only look upon him with sad and wanting eyes. 

“I think I’m still having a hard time believing that you’re real,” Will whispered, low enough that neither Jonathan nor Mike could hear. He looked over Older Mike’s shoulder to where Mike was now sitting on the bed, watching them. Will flushed and looked away. “You’re so different compared to him. He’s…”

“I know,” Older Mike said immediately, “I know. I’m sorry, Will.”

Will was startled by the crushing sincerity in Older Mike’s tone and expression. He looked torn up with guilt, and Will had the sudden understanding that he understood the situation even better than Will did. He knew exactly what was going through Mike’s head right now because he had once been him. 

Will throat squeezed. Without thinking, he reached forward, wrapping a hand around Older Mike’s elbow. “You know him better than anyone. Can you help me? Mike, please, just tell me what I’m doing wrong, so I can fix—”

“Will!”

Will flinched, taking a large step back, away from Older Mike, cold guilt shooting through his veins. He looked over at Mike, who was standing now, looking between Will and his older counterpart with an unreadable expression—something akin to anger, maybe even revulsion—and Will’s stomach rolled violently. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll just—”

Will stumbled out of the motel room, slamming the door behind him. He stood on the stoop of the motel for several seconds, breathing heavily. Before he knew it, a tear leaked from his eyes, followed by another. Will wiped at them furiously. 

This was stupid. He was being stupid. 

Still, Will couldn’t forget Mike’s expression, the way he looked, the way he kept looking at Will whenever he tried to get close to his older self. 

Mike had always been protective of those he cared about. Will had just never thought that Mike would ever try to protect someone from Will. 

What did he see when Will was talking with Older Mike? What did he see every time Will looked at him or tried to touch him? Was his affection for him obvious now that Mike was forced to be an outside observer? Was that it? Was Mike disgusted by how much Will loved him?

Will’s heart spasmed, sharp and painful. He gasped, wiping at his face once more. He heard the sound of muffled yelling from inside the motel room and he quickly retreated away from the door before he could hear something that would haunt him for the rest of his life. 

Will passed Jonathan in the middle of loading Nancy’s bike into the trunk of the car. 

“Hey, Will, are you—”

Will climbed into the car and shut the door before Jonathan could even finish his question. 

A minute later, the motel room door flung open and a pissed off Mike Wheeler stormed out. Through the rearview mirror, Will saw Jonathan’s attempts at conversation rebuked again as Mike stalked past him and shoved himself in the backseat of the car. 

There was an uncomfortable moment when it was just Will and Mike in the car, both breathing heavily though for very different reasons. 

Then, the door opened, and Jonathan slid into the driver’s seat, and Will felt himself relax incrementally. 

It still felt like he was slowly drowning. 

He’d always known Mike Wheeler would kill him one day, he’d just never pictured it going down quite like this. 

That night, dinner was awkward. Will had arrived late, dragging his feet up the stairs after Mrs. Wheeler had called that dinner was ready, only to find that the only open seat left was next to Mike. 

Things only got worse from there. At one point, Will had accidentally bumped elbows with Mike and both of them had flinched so hard that Will dropped his fork and Mike had knocked over his glass of water. 

“Oh my!” Mrs. Wheeler had cried, and Will had excused himself shortly afterwards, saying that he felt sick and needed to go lie down—which was not technically a lie. 

That night, Will had terrible dreams—a common occurrence for him, but for once, they were the completely ordinary kind of nightmares. No Upside Down. No monsters lurking in the dark. Just Mike, staring at Will with a look of pure disgust. 

The next morning, Will stumbled through the house, still half-asleep as the dawn just peaked over the horizon. He was exhausted but he couldn’t stand lying in bed any longer, thinking, wondering. 

Will was in the middle of putting strawberry jam on his toast when he heard footsteps pad softly into the kitchen. Will stepped aside as a hand reached past him towards the cupboard above his head. 

“Want some toast? I can make you some after I finish with mine,” Will said, sticking the knife into the jar and getting another scoop of jam for his second piece. 

When there was no forthcoming response, Will looked up. He froze, his whole body tensing up when he realized it was not his brother standing next to him. 

Mike was looking back at him with wide eyes, his hand still halfway up, reaching towards a glass. 

“Uh…” Mike said. 

Will hastily put down his toast and scrambled to put the knife in the sink, stuffing the lid back on the jar of jam before shoving it in the fridge. 

“Never mind,” Will blurted, “You can—You don’t need my help, obviously. I’ll just be, uh…” he made the mistake of looking back at Mike who was still frozen, his hand suspended midair as he watched Will frantically move about the kitchen. Will ducked his head. “Uh, outside.”

Will grabbed his plate of toast and practically ran out of the house before Mike could even open his mouth. 

God, could he have acted any weirder?

Will didn’t know what had come over him. Things between him and Mike had been stiff, sure, but aside from their fight last night in Mike’s bedroom, they had always kept up some sort of pretense of normalcy. That had not been even in the same ballpark as normal. 

Will sat down on the back porch, bemoaning into his toast. 

Even after he’d finished eating, he continued to sit there for a while, worried that if he went back in too soon, he’d run into Mike again. 

Eventually though, Will stood up, brushing the crumbs off his shorts as he made his way back inside the house. He crept quietly, trying to avoid notice, but other than Mrs. Wheeler who was fixing a pot of coffee, the kitchen was empty. No Mike. 

Before Will could scurry down the stairs to safety, however, the phone rang, echoing loudly through the house. 

“Who the heck is calling so early in the morning,” Mrs. Wheeler muttered to herself before turning to Will, “Will, honey, would you get that please?”

Will hesitated before nodding and making his way over to the phone. He picked it up, clearing his throat before speaking. “Hello, this is the Wheeler Residence. May I ask who’s speaking?”

“Will!” A bright voice said over the phone,slightly  lower than what he was used to but still instantly recognizable. “Man, I can’t believe I caught you. I was worried my mom might answer and I was not ready to explain that.”

Will nearly dropped the phone. He looked around nervously before hissing down the line. “Mike? What are you doing calling here?”

“I found a phone booth on the property. And I remember my old number, so… you guys have to come here. Like now. And bring Jane too.”

“What? Why?”

“I can’t really explain. I just—I had a dream. Sort of. Just come as soon as you can. Okay?”

“Okay. Yeah. We’ll be there,” Will said. 

“Okay. Great.” Will heard Older Mike sigh over the phone. “I’ll see you soon.”

Then, the line went dead. 

“Will?” Mrs. Wheeler called from the kitchen, “Who was it?”

“Uh, my mom!” He shouted, “I—She wants me to come over. We’ll be back later.”

He didn’t wait for a response as he raced up the stairs. This time, he didn’t hesitate, bursting into Mike’s room. 

“Will?” Mike said, shooting up from where he’d been lounging in his bed, reading. “What’s wrong? Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry,” Will panted, “Just, um, there was a phone call. From you.”

Mike’s eyebrows shot up. “From me? As in—”

“The other you.”

Mike’s eyes darkened. “What did he want?”

“We have to go to the motel. And—And he wants us to bring El. I think it might have something to do with getting him back to his own time.”

Mike stood up. “Yeah, okay, great. Let’s go then.”

The two of them left Mike’s room in a hurry, running headlong into Nancy who was just exiting her own room. She stopped in the middle of the hallway, looking between the two of them in surprise. 

“Where’s the fire?” She asked. 

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” Mike snapped. 

If Nancy hadn’t been suspicious before, she was now. Will could already see the gears turning in her head as she went into reporter mode, sidestepping to block Mike before he could move past her. 

“Listen, we really don’t have time for this, Nancy. We have to—” Mike cut himself off. 

“Have to what?” Nancy looked past him to meet Will’s gaze. “What are you two up to?”

“We’re…” Will had nothing. 

“Why do you care? Just let us pass, would you?”

“Not until you stop being weird and tell me what’s going on!” Nancy pouted, her resemblance for Mike growing as she crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest. “Does have to do with the Upside Down? Is it Vecna?”

“No,” Will assured her, “Nothing like that. It’s just… you could come with us!”

Mike’s head whipped around to stare at Will incredulously. “No, she can’t!”

“Why not?”

“B-Because!” Mike spluttered, “Will, what if it, like, causes an anomaly or something?”

“Anomaly?” Nancy said. 

“It won’t. If it didn’t happen with you, then your sister will be fine. It’ll be fine. And besides, we could use her help.”

“How?” Mike said, his face scrunching up as he looked over at Nancy with incredulity.

“Because there could be danger,” Will said sensibly, “And Nancy can actually handle a gun.”

Mike scoffed but he couldn’t deny it. 

Nancy looked between the two of them for a moment before she seemed to come to a decision and said, “I’ll go grab my guns then.”

A few minutes later, Will had roused Jonathan and all four of them reconvened in the living room. Will noticed that Nancy’s jacket pockets were a little bulkier than they were before. The two of them exchanged a look, Nancy nodding to him. 

“She’s coming with us?” Jonathan said, casting a surprised look at Nancy. Will hadn’t had a chance to explain that yet, only telling him that they’d gotten a call and they had to go.

“I am,” Nancy said firmly, already getting ready to defend herself but Jonathan only shrugged. 

“Welcome to the crew,” said Jonathan. 

Nancy shot him a relieved smile. “Thanks.”

“Nancy? Can you help me with Hol—”

“Not right now!” Nancy shouted back to her mom, “I’m going out! Be back later!”

“What?” Mrs. Wheeler shouted back, but Nancy was already shoving Jonathan out the front door. 

Mrs. Wheeler appeared around the corner, hands on her hips. “Mike? You’re going too?”

“Uh, yeah. We—”

“We’ll see you later, Mrs. Wheeler,” Will rushed out, grabbing Mike by the arm and tugging him out of the house before he was forced to lie to his mom. They really didn’t have the time. 

“Are you sure you should be—”

Whatever Mrs. Wheeler had been saying was cut off as the door swung shut behind them. They all piled into Jonathan’s car, Nancy sitting shotgun with Mike and Will in the back. Then, they were cruising down the street and out of the neighborhood. 

“We need to pick up El before we go to the motel,” Will piped up. 

“El?” Jonathan echoed.

“Wait, what motel?” Nancy questioned. 

“Just do what he says,” Mike said, “We’ll explain when we all get there.”

Nancy and Jonathan didn’t look happy about being kept in the dark but they seemed to accept it for now, allowing a tense silence to fall over the car. 

When Jonathan finally came to a stop in front of Hopper’s cabin, Mike was quick to jump up out of his seat. “I’ll get her. Be right back.”

He shut the door, racing up the drive before anyone could think of protesting. 

Will sunk back in his seat. 

Mike was gone for several minutes—too long in Will’s opinion, but just as he thought about speaking up, offering to go in and see what the hold up was, Mike and El exited the cabin. 

The two of them got in the car. El exchanged a round of polite ‘hello’s with everyone before Jonathan started up the car again and began the drive towards the motel at the edge of town. 

When they pulled into the parking lot, Will looked over at El, trying to read if she knew what was happening or not, but beside a slight frown on her face, she didn’t appear to have any kind of reaction to seeing the motel. 

They all got out of the car, making their way over to the door near the end of the line. Once again, Will was at the front. He raised his hand, knocking twice before taking a step back. 

The door opened almost immediately, and Will heard Nancy gasp loudly as Older Mike appeared. 

His eyes flitted over to Nancy and he broke out into an uncharacteristically warm smile. It seemed to be a habit this Mike had somehow picked up in the intervening years—the constant smiling, the genuine, unashamed affection for everyone, even his annoying older sister. “Nance? God, you look so young!”

Then, he shocked everyone by pulling Nancy into a quick hug. 

“M-Mike?” Nancy said, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head as she looked up at her older younger brother. “What is happening?”

“You know that movie Back to the Future I made you watch?” Older Mike said before holding his hands out in a ‘ta da’ motion. “Well, I mean, there wasn’t a DeLorean involved, but you get the gist.”

“This is… too weird, even for us,” Nancy said, “I mean, you’re—” she reached forward, grasping Older Mike’s jaw, turning his head side to side as she inspected him. She hummed curiously. “You know, I always thought you’d look more like dad.”

Older Mike pulled his chin out of Nancy’s hand, his nose scrunching up as he said, “What? Did you expect me to have a receding hairline at twenty-eight?”

“No,” Nancy said, still raking her eyes over his face like she was looking at something that none of the rest of them could see, “No, it’s not that. It’s—Your eyes. I think it’s your eyes.”

Older Mike raised his eyebrows. “Uh, pretty sure they’ve always been brown, Nance.”

Nancy rolled her eyes. “Good to know you’re hopeless at every age.”

Both Mikes made affronted noises at that. 

“Should we—take this party inside?” Jonathan said, glancing around them anxiously. 

“Actually, we need to go back to the woods, where Will found me,” Older Mike said, “That’s where I need to be when I go back. You brought her, right?”

Will stepped to the side, revealing El who was looking at the Older Mike with wide, curious eyes. 

“Oh, hey,” Older Mike greeted with a dorky wave, “Nice hair.”

“Thank you,” El said meekly, looking like she wasn’t really sure how to process what was currently happening. Will couldn’t blame her. If he thought about it for too long, he was sure he’d end up with some sort of headache. 

“We don’t have a lot of room in the car,” Jonathan began before trailing off awkwardly. 

“That’s fine,” Older Mike said, snatching the keys out of Jonathan’s hand, “I’ll drive. You and Nancy can pile up in the passenger’s seat.”

“Excuse me?” Nancy said. 

“Do you even know how to drive?” Jonathan objected. 

“Twenty-eight, remember?” Mike said before shoving his way through the group. Over his shoulder, he shouted back to them, “Come on! Everyone into the clown car!”

“Does anyone else get the urge to punch him?” Mike grumbled. 

“I think he seems nice,” El said decisively. 

“Nicer than you,” Nancy retorted, looking over at Mike, “You’ve certainly never hugged me like that.”

“Nor would I want to,” Mike shot back with a scowl. 

Nancy smirked. “Well, it looks like I grow on you eventually.”

Mike didn’t seem to have a retort for that, spluttering for several seconds for spitting out a grumpy, “Shut up.”

Jonathan and Nancy did end up sitting together. It was an awkward mess of ‘sorry’s and ‘it’s okay’s that Older Mike seemed to find a little too funny, and Will wondered how much of this plan was just Older Mike wanting to tease his sister. 

“Is that—”

“That’s one of your guns,” Jonathan blurted out quickly. 

Will had to stifle a laugh behind his hand. Okay, so maybe he found it a little funny. 

“Everybody comfortable?” Older Mike said cheerily. 

“Just drive,” Jonathan gritted out. 

If you had asked Will a week ago where he saw himself, he could have given a million and one answers, but none of them would have even come close to the reality. Because right now Will was leading a small trope to his broken down tree fort in the middle of the woods, walking alongside his best friend who was currently ten years older than him. 

What was his life?

“So,” Older Mike said. He took a step closer to Will as they walked, bumping their shoulders together. Will startled, taking a hasty step away, recovering the space between them. 

“Sorry,” he said instinctively. 

Older Mike’s mouth twisted. “What are you apologizing for exactly?”

“I… don’t know.”

Older Mike chuckled. “That’s what I thought.” Then, he added, with another playful shove. “Dork.”

Will laughed too and this time, he didn’t pull back, letting Older Mike invade his space, their arms brushing every other step. Will couldn’t ignore the warmth that flooded through him at the easy closeness between them. He kept stealing glances at Older Mike, trying to make sure that he was okay with this, but like with everything else, Older Mike took it in stride, his expression open and relaxed, as if this was something they did all the time. 

Will felt his mouth go dry. What if this was normal for them? Future them?

Suddenly, the millions of questions Will had been shoving down the last two days came bubbling to the surface.

“Can I ask you something?” Will blurted out. 

“Of course.”

Will tried not to get sidetracked by how much that answer affected him. He swallowed, looking down at the grass and twigs crunching beneath his feet, trying to find the right words. “I, uh… I wanted… I mean, I was just curious…”

Will felt a large hand fall on his shoulder and squeeze.  His head snapped up to see Older Mike looking at him with a reassuring smile. 

“Hey,” he said, “It’s just me, Will.”

Will was pretty sure that Mike wasn’t just anything. He was Mike. By the laws of nature, that made him everything. 

Will tried for a smile as he said, “That doesn’t help as much as you think it does.”

Older Mike’s mouth pulled into a frown but before he could ask anything about it, Will pressed on. 

“Mike, I wanted to ask about us.”

Older Mike’s eyebrows shot up, his hand falling off of Will’s shoulder as his head reared back in shock. “Us?” he said nervously. 

“Yeah. I mean, the way you’re treating me—it was pretty obvious,” Will said with a shrug. 

Older Mike swallowed. “Uh, it—it was?”

“Yeah. We’re… we’re close in the future, aren’t we? I mean, we’re friends, really friends.” Will was almost sure but he still looked shyly up at Older Mike through his lashes, needing to hear it confirmed before he could let himself run away with hope. 

Whatever Older Mike had thought he was going to say, it wasn’t that. His face scrunched up, going rapidly through a string of emotions before settling on something neutral, maybe a little lost. 

“Of course we are. We’ve always been friends, Will. Nothing could ever change that.”

Will found himself smiling against his will. “Really?”

Older Mike’s face broke. “Will, what the hell have I been doing to you to make you doubt that?”

Will’s smile fell off and he looked away, avoiding Older Mike’s piercing gaze. 

“Shit,” Older Mike muttered to himself, “I’m going to kill him. I seriously—” Will looked at him with wide eyes as Older Mike shot him a pleading look. “Will, listen to me. It’s not you, okay? Don’t think for one second that you’ve ever done anything wrong. You’re amazing. Perfect. I’m just… the biggest asshole.”

“You’re not an asshole,” Will defended. 

“No, I am. I really am,” Older Mike said sincerely, “I was so wrapped up in my own shit at the time that I don’t think I ever really processed how much I’d hurt you. Even after things got better, you were too damn nice. I mean, by the time I’d gotten around to apologizing, you’d already forgiven me, which… you shouldn’t have done that.”

“I don’t want apologies, Mike,” Will mumbled, “I just want you to want me around.”

“I do,” Older Mike said instantly, “He does.”

“But—”

“I know he does,” Older Mike insisted, “I used to live inside that fucked little head, remember?”

That got Will to chuckle weakly. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Of course I am. I’m always right.”

“No one is always right,” Will said, rolling his eyes. 

“You are,” Older Mike said. Will was startled by the sincerity—the immediate, burning warmth—that crept into Older Mike’s voice at the mention of Older Will. 

“What’s he like,” Will asked, “The older me. Am I… happy?”

“You have no idea.”

Will tilted his head, confused. He wasn’t sure whether to take that as an affirmative or negative to his question. Was he happy or not?

“Will, you are so happy,” Mike said emphatically, like convincing Will of this fact was the most important thing in the world to him. “I mean, we’ve been through a lot, all of us, but you especially. There’s a lot of… scars from that, and they still haven’t fully gone away. Probably won’t ever. But you’ve got the best smile.”

Will stared at Older Mike with wide eyes. He could already feel a blush slowly creeping up at his neck.

Older Mike held his gaze—soft, almost too soft. It felt like he was squeezing around Will’s heart. “I think that of all the things the Upside Down took from us, your smile was the thing I missed the most. Your real smile, not tainted by fear or sadness or any of the rest of it. It’s… It’s a really beautiful smile,” Older Mike said shyly, “My favorite. I’m so lucky that I get to see it everyday.”

Will was pretty sure that the only reason why he hadn’t swooned yet was because they were still leading the group—the group which consisted of his older brother and Mike, oh, and Mike’s girlfriend.

Don’t hope for too much, Will told himself, you can be happy but you can’t have that.

“You’re…” Will shook his head, “You shouldn’t say stuff like that.”

“Yes, I should. You deserve to hear it, Will. And it’s true,” Older Mike said with a shrug, “We promised that we wouldn’t lie to each other anymore.”

“When did we promise that?”

“A long time ago. Around the time we realized that our lies were just hurting each other.” Older Mike got a sad look in his eyes as he said quietly, “You know I’d never intentionally hurt you, Will.”

“I know,” Will said, just as quietly, “So… I’m happy?”

“Very happy.”

“And I still paint?”

“Oh, all the time!” Older Mike exclaimed, “You’ve even got your own studio now. You’re the best painter ever!”

Will giggled. “Now I know you’re lying.”

“I’m not,” Older Mike said with an unrepentant grin, “I swear, Will, you’ve taken me to, like, a hundred different art museums to try and make me more “cultured” but I don’t give a shit about Van Gogh or Botticelli. You’re still my favorite artist. You always will be.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Will said, shaking his head.

Mike beamed back at him. “There. That’s more like the Will I know.”

“What? When I’m calling you an idiot?”

“When you smile,” Older Mike said, reaching up to poke at Will’s cheek, “Just like that.”

Will hadn’t even realized he’d been smiling but he couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to. Something about Mike—this Mike—seemed to reach the darkest, most desolate part of himself and bring it into the light. Forget the rest of it, if Will just had this to look forward to—Mike smiling dazzlingly at him, wanting him around—it would be enough.

“Maybe you should pinch me,” Will murmured, still grinning helplessly.

“How come?”

“Because I’m having a hard time believing that this is real. You make my life sound… perfect.”

“I mean, I don’t know about perfect,” Older Mike said teasingly, “But it’s pretty great. You’ve kind of got it all, Byers. Great job, great friends, great boyfriend, great family. I mean, the apartment ceiling does leak from time to time but—”

“What?”

Older Mike turned around as he realized that Will had frozen in his tracks. Older Mike tilted his head. “What? It’s really not that bad. Maintenance usually responds in a day or so, and it’s really only after a bad storm so—”

“No. No, not—” Will was about to start hyperventilating “—Y-You said—You—”

“Will?” Jonathan said, the first one to reach them. “Why’d you stop?”

“Is something wrong?” Nancy cut in. Then, Mike and El had caught up too, and there were suddenly way too many eyes on Will.

“Will, are you—” Mike—his Mike—had been about to touch him, had been about to ask if he was okay, and Will couldn’t take it anymore.

“One—Just one minute—I need to—I need—” Will grabbed Older Mike by the front of his shirt and hauled him away from the group.

“What? Will!” Jonathan shouted.

“Just one fucking minute!” Will shouted back, uncaring of the several gasps that arose from the group as he dragged Older Mike far enough away that they were out of earshot. Then, he finally let go, whirling around on him with an accusatory finger, eyes wild, body ready to take flight at the earliest notice. “Explain. Now.”

“W-What? Will, what’s wrong?” Older Mike said, “Did I say something?”

“Did you—” Will inhaled sharply through his nose. He cast a glance back at the group who were all huddled together, talking amongst themselves and shooting worried glances toward the pair of them. Will ripped his eyes away, focusing all of his attention on Older Mike. He kept his voice purposefully low as he said, slowly, like the words were a struggle to get out, “You said boyfriend.”

“What?”

“You said my… boyfriend,” Will said. He said the word ‘boyfriend’ even quieter this time. He was so afraid of that word—of any word, really, having to do with the way he was different, wrong, not like everyone else. If he were a girl, the word ‘boyfriend’ would mean nothing to him. But he wasn’t a girl. And it… mattered.

Older Mike’s eyes widened with sudden understanding. He leaned forward like he was going to hug him, and Will flinched back.

“No. Don’t. Just—explain,” Will said raspily, “Wh—What did you mean by that? Did—You can’t—I don’t—I’m not—”

Will was actually hyperventilating now. 

It was one thing to know something about yourself within the safety of your own mind. To himself, he could admit it. He didn’t like girls. Not the way he liked boys. Not the way he shouldn’t like boys. It hurt, but he’d come to accept it—just another one of his many flaws. And then he’d gone and fallen in love with his best friend—a boy. And that had hurt too. But as anyone with chronic pain will tell you, you become desensitized. You learn to deal with it. And Will had. He had for years. But this was different.

He was dating in the future. He had a boyfriend. And that meant that not only did he like someone, but someone liked him back.

Someone liked him back. A boy. His boyfriend.

His boyfriend.

Will felt like he could weep. Then, he realized he already was.

This time, when Older Mike reached for him, Will didn’t try to push him away. He just fell into his best friend’s arms, crying in a way he never had before. He didn’t feel an ounce of sadness. He just felt…

Relief. Agonizing, blinding relief. And mixed in was joy and disbelief and fear, but nothing could overpower the feeling that something in him had finally clicked into place.

Because he had a future. A happy one. Where he could be himself. Where people still loved him. He hadn’t even realized until this very moment how afraid he’d been that he’d have to hide forever, that this half-filled, fragile existence was all he’d be allowed.

“It’s okay. Hey, shh. It’s okay. You’re okay, Will. You’re okay.” Older Mike gripped him tightly, his arms wrapping around Will’s shoulders, one hand on his back, the other holding the back of his head as Will cried into his chest. “You’re okay. It’s okay.”

Older Mike kept repeating himself, simply holding Will through the tears.

At one point, Will vaguely registered the sound of approaching footsteps, and Older Mike’s hand left his back, his body jerking in a way that made Will think he was motioning frantically with the hand.

“Will—”

“He’s fine. I’ve got him. Just give us a minute. I’ve got him,” Older Mike said sternly. When he spoke like that, Will was reminded that he was technically older than all of them. There was an authority there that couldn’t be ignored.

Eventually, the footsteps retreated and Older Mike’s hand returned to his back, pulling Will even tighter to his chest.

“I’ve got you,” Older Mike murmured in his ear, “I’m not going anywhere, Will. Take your time.”

Will rode out the rest of his sobs until they finally quieted and petered out for good, leaving him tired and slightly raw. However, when he finally pulled away from Older Mike’s chest, he had a small smile on his face. He met Older Mike’s eyes and let out a laugh that sounded a little delirious, but it made Older Mike smile.

Older Mike reached up and wiped the tears off Will’s cheeks, cradling his face in both of his hands.

“Sorry. ‘M kind of a mess,” Will muttered sheepishly.

“Yeah. You are,” Older Mike said, still smiling, “But I don’t mind. You okay?”

Will gave him a shaky nod. “Yeah. I—” he laughed again “God, I don’t think I’ve ever been better. I mean… if what you say is true, if you know and you don’t hate me for it—”

“No,” Older Mike said immediately, “Never. And no one else does either. You are so loved, Will. You always have been. Just as you are.”

Will choked. “God. Okay. You need to stop talking before you make me cry again.”

“Please, don’t cry.”

“Okay. I won’t but… could you, maybe, explain it to me now?” Will said hopefully.

Older Mike nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. What do you want to know?”

“Do I actually, um…” Will hesitated, but Older Mike just nodded encouragingly, “Do I actually have a boyfriend? In the future?”

“Yeah,” Older Mike said gently, “You do.”

“And I like him?”

Older Mike smiled, looking amused. “I’d like to think so.”

“And he… likes me?”

“Will, he’s crazy about you,” Older Mike said seriously.

“Crazy about me?” Will squeaked. 

“He loves you more than anything,” said Mike, and Will’s heart thudded heavily in his chest, the air leaving his lungs in one fell swoop. “If I’m being honest, you could probably do better, but he makes you smile, so I guess that’s all that really matters.”

“Because I have a nice smile?” 

“Because you have the best smile,” Older Mike said, meeting the tease with absolute sincerity.

“You’re lying,” Will whispered.

“Or maybe I’m finally telling the truth.” Older Mike took his hands off of Will’s face, and Will had to hold back a pathetic whimper at the loss.

“Can you tell me who it is?” Will said.

As expected, Older Mike gave him a deadpan look.

“Come on,” Will whined, “You can’t leave me with even more questions, Mike.”

“I’ve already told you way too much!” Older Mike protested, “Trust me. Everything will be fine. Just—trust me.”

Will rolled his eyes. “You’re so mean.”

“What? No, I’m not!”

“You are,” Will said, smiling, “You hate me.”

“Will!” Older Mike blustered. He looked genuinely distressed.

Will covered his mouth, laughter spilling out over his fingers.

“Are you done?” Mike said roughly, cutting in between Will and Older Mike. Will’s eyes widened as Mike wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him away before he even got an answer. 

Will looked back over his shoulder at Older Mike, worried that he’d be offended, but he was just smirking at his younger self, his eyes glinting with something knowing and smug. Will turned back to Mike who was still ushering him away. He was a little bewildered by the strange turn events, even more by the fact that Mike was touching him. 

Months of no contact, skirting around each other, never getting too close. And then suddenly, all at once, Mike was enveloping him, Will tucked safely under his arm, like they were twelve again, like he’d never actually left.  

“Are you okay?” Mike murmured, his eyes still dark and angry but his tone gentle. 

“Uh, what?”

Mike and Will overtook the rest of the group, leading the way, just like Older Mike and Will had a few minutes earlier. 

“What did he say to you?” Mike said, his head still bent low towards Will, ignoring the bewildered looks everyone was sending them. Even Will had a hard time paying attention to them with Mike so close to him. “Whatever he said to upset you, I’m sure it wasn’t true. He’s just an asshole.”

“You’re not an asshole,” Will huffed. He didn’t know why he kept having to repeat that to Mike. “And you didn’t upset me. I mean, he didn’t. I was—I am happy.”

“Happy?” Mike repeated incredulously. 

“Yeah,” Will said with a smile that he felt in his soul. For the first time in a long time, he felt hopeful for the future. 

Mike’s eyebrows climbed higher on his forehead, his eyes flickering down to Will’s smile before looking back at his eyes, staring hard, like he was trying to read Will’s mind. 

Will stared back, unbothered by the attention. 

Mike couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away from Will’s face, seemingly entranced by what he saw there, his eyebrows knitting in confusion but a small, unconscious smile pulling at the corner of his lips all the same. 

It made Will’s heart flutter. 

“Okay,” Mike said softly. He withdrew his arm from around Will, but as soon as Will went to move away, Mike latched onto his arm, keeping him tethered to his side. 

“What,” Will asked. 

“Nothing. Just—don’t walk with him anymore.”

“Why not?” Will said, though he didn’t really mind as long as he got to stick by Mike. 

“Because he made you cry.”

“Okay, he did not—”

“And besides, he’s not your best friend,” Mike said, throwing a dark look back at his older self for emphasis. 

Will bit back a smile. “Oh, he’s not?”

Mike whirled back around. “What? No! I’m—”

Mike cut himself off but it was too late. Will was already grinning, amused. 

“What?” Will teased, “Who’s my best friend?”

Mike spluttered, “Well, I, uh—”

“Ah, that’s right,” Will said, “It’s Dustin.”

“Dustin? There’s no way Dustin’s your best friend!” Mike sneered. 

“Lucas then.”

“Lucas isn’t your best friend either,” Mike said dangerously. 

Mike looked pissed, but Will was enjoying himself. He let out a heavy sigh, feigning confusion. “I’m sorry. I think you’re gonna have to tell me. I give up.”

“Me,” Mike said heatedly, “It’s me.”

Will bit his lip, trying and failing to hold back his smile. “Yeah. Of course it’s you, Mike,” he said, far too fondly. 

Mike’s scowl dropped off his face, his mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ as his cheeks flushed a beautiful pink color that made Will’s whole chest ache. 

Mike cleared his throat. “Oh, um, cool. G-Good.”

He looked away from Will and suddenly came to a halt. 

Will turned to see what had caught his attention only to find that they were standing in front of Castle Byers. 

“God, it’s ruined,” Mike whispered. Will wasn’t sure if he was meant to even hear it but he felt compelled to respond anyway. 

“It’s been like that for a while now, Mike.”

Mike looked over at him with an unreadable expression. 

“Is this it?” Nancy piped up, drawing Will’s attention away from Mike. “Is this where it… happens?”

Will looked around the group, surprised to find Older Mike standing next to El. Had they been talking? If Will had a boyfriend, that must mean he got over Mike eventually, right? Did that mean that Mike and El stayed together? 

Maybe they were married ten years from now. But Will hadn’t seen a ring on Mike’s finger and he hadn’t mentioned anything about it. In fact, the only thing Mike had really mentioned about his own future was that Will was in it. 

Was that weird? 

Was Will reading too much into it?

“Yeah,” Older Mike said, “Jane said I had to go back to the place where I appeared, and to bring her younger self to use as a homing beacon... or something like that.”

El looked a little surprised by the use of her real name but then she tilted her head consideringly. 

“Okay. Fine. We're here,” Mike said, “Now what?”

“Now we wait for the signal.”

“Signal? What sig—” Mike abruptly stopped talking as an empty pocket of air next to Castle Byers began to ripple, the space distorting and radiating with a pale blue light. 

It kind of reminded Will of one of the gates to the Upside Down, but this didn’t feel malignant in any way. If anything, it felt friendly. 

He took an unconscious step towards the pocket, stopping when he felt Mike grab hold of his arm, holding him back. 

“Mike?” A muffled voice sounded from inside the pocket. It sounded like El. “Mike, are you there?”

Older Mike grinned widely. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m here! Thank god. I was worried I was gonna be stuck back in 1986 forever!”

“Is it still too late to leave him there,” a voice that sounded like Max asked. 

Will sucked in a sharp breath. He hadn’t heard Max’s voice in so long. Looking over at El, he could see she looked similarly affected, if not more so. 

Older Mike rolled his eyes like he was used to this kind of treatment, which Will supposed that if he and Max had been friends for over a decade, he probably was. 

“Mike,” El’s voice said through the pocket, “I need you to stand back. Will is going to come through and get you.”

Will’s heart sped up at the sound of his own name, and Mike’s grip momentarily tightened on his arm.  

“Okay. All clear,” Older Mike said.

A moment later, the pocket rippled again, more violently this time. Then, with a sudden popping sound, a figure appeared, stumbling into the clearing before he caught himself and straightened. 

He looked around the field, eyes widening at the unexpected audience and lingering on Will for a moment longer than the others. 

Will didn’t know what to think. If seeing Older Mike had been weird, seeing the older version of himself was uncanny. 

It certainly looked like him, but at the same time, he was so unexpectedly different. He was taller, broader too, a light blue jacket hugging his shoulders. His hair was also far shorter than Will had ever worn it before, cropped close to his head, his signature bowl cut nowhere in sight. And there was something about his air, a self-possessed confidence that Will knew he didn’t have, not yet. 

Will’s view of his older self was soon obstructed though as Older Mike darted forward, flinging his arms around Older Will, crowing with laughter. 

“Will!”

“Mike,” Older Will said back, his voice deep and resonant. Will felt his face grow warm. Why did he sound like that? Did he go through a second puberty at some point or something?

Next to him, Mike was gripping his arm so tight it was starting to hurt. If Will had any functioning brain cells left, he’d tell him off for it. 

When the other Mike and Will finally pulled away from one another, they shared a long look, speaking, it seemed, without saying a word. 

Then, Older Will leaned forward, muttering something close to Older Mike’s ear. Older Mike’s eyes danced as he said something back, so quick Will almost missed his lips moving at all.  

Older Will sent Older Mike a look. To a casual observer, they might have called it annoyed, but Will knew better. He knew exactly what that look meant and he almost groaned aloud in frustration and despair. 

He still wasn’t over Mike. Ten years on and he was still as hopelessly in love with him as he was now. 

How embarrassing. 

Will looked to his side to gauge Mike’s reaction to all of this and immediately looked away. Whatever that was in Mike’s expression, he didn’t want to see it. Mike looked like he was having some kind of religious experience, and Will definitely didn’t have the guts to try and decipher why.

“Would you guys stop flirting and cross over already?” Lucas’s voice shouted through the pocket. 

“Yeah, Jane’s starting to look sick,” Dustin said worriedly. 

Older Will raised his eyebrows. “You ready?”

“Yeah. Wait, no.” Older Mike broke away, rushing over to Mike and grabbing him by his shoulders. Will heard him hiss something, quick and sharp before pulling back. The two’s eyes met. Then, inexplicably, they both looked at Will who froze under their combined attention. Mike’s eyes snapped back to his older self. Older Mike gave him a once over before nodding sharply and pulling away. 

Then, as if Will hadn’t already suffered enough, Older Mike sidled up to him, pulling him down and planting a kiss on the top of his head. 

Will flushed right down to his toes.

In a flash, Older Mike was back at Older Will’s side. Older Will muttered something, shaking his head with an amused smile, and Will could have sworn he heard Older Mike make some excuse about missing his bowl cut. 

Will reached up, touching his hair shyly. 

“Goodbye,” Older Will said, looking around at the group, “Um, see you in ten years, I guess.”

No one responded, too speechless. 

Older Mike gave them a goofy little wave, grinning from ear to ear. 

Older Mike was weird. He smiled a lot. Will was kind of obsessed with him. 

“Come on, idiot,” Older Will said to Older Mike, the term sounding like an endearment when it fell from his lips. He held out his hand expectantly, the only explanation he gave being a very casual, “So you don’t get ripped in half by the temporal displacement.”

“Is that a sorcerer thing or are you just making up an excuse to hold my hand?” Older Mike smirked, slipping his hand into Older Will’s like it was as natural as breathing. 

“Do I have to choose one?” Older Will said.

Older Mike blushed. He recovered quickly though because a second later, he was rambling as they began to walk back towards the pocket, hand in hand. “I just want to clarify that this was in no way my fault.”

“Mike—”

“I’m serious, Will! Holly is the one—”

“Oh, so you’re blaming your sister now?” Older Will grinned.

“It’s not blaming. It’s the truth,” Older Mike insisted, “If she hadn’t—”

“Can’t we talk about this at home?”

“No, because I need to tell you my side of the story before the others worm their way into your brain with their lies!” Older Mike scowled. 

“Don’t be grumpy.”

“I’m not being grumpy! I’m defending my honor! Will! Will, my—”

Whatever Older Mike had been about to say died the second the two of them stepped into the pocket—their bodies, their voices, everything disappearing in an instant, like they were never there at all. 

For a moment, there was complete silence in the clearing.

Finally, after an awkward, too-long pause, someone cleared their throat. It was Nancy.

“Well,” she said, “That was…”

“Weird,” Jonathan finished breathlessly.

“Yeah,” Nancy agreed, “Very weird.”

“At least now we know that we do not die in our fight against Vecna,” El said.

The group let out a few awkward, relieved laughs. 

“At least there’s that,” Jonathan agreed. He blew out a breath as the group lapsed into another awkward silence. “So, should we go then?”

“Is it wrong to say that I’m kind of hungry?” Nancy said with a shaky smile.

“No, we should grab food on the way home. It’ll be a good excuse for your mom later. We can say we wanted to do sibling bonding time or something,” Jonathan joked.

“Yeah, exactly,” Nancy said, “So, what did you have in mind?”

As Nancy and Jonathan and El began to walk back to the car, discussing where they should all stop for food, Will lingered behind, staring at the space where his and Mike’s older selves had disappeared.

He wanted to say he was thinking about what had happened, but the truth was he wasn’t thinking about anything at all. He was just… staring.

Will felt something nudge his side. He vaguely registered Mike moving away from him to follow after the others. He knew he should probably move too but he stayed a couple of extra seconds, wanting to linger in the space, feeling, on some innate level, that this experience had somehow altered the course of his destiny—or maybe finally put him on the right path.

He did move though, eventually, turning and jogging to catch up with the others.

Will fell into step with Mike, the two of them just a couple of paces behind the other three, but neither of them talked. Every time Will glanced in Mike’s direction, the other boy was lost in thought, his chin ducked towards the ground as his face scrunched up pensively.

Something about that expression made Will worry. He didn’t know what it meant and he wasn’t sure he’d like it if he did.

Still, he felt like he’d done enough emotional labor for one day, so he let it go, leaving Mike to his thoughts and letting his own mind remain blissfully blank as he finally joined the others in their discussion.

They ended up stopping for waffles at a diner near the Wheeler house. They got a booth tucked away in an empty section of the diner, the other patrons being an older couple across the room and a man nursing a black coffee at the counter top. 

Will slid into the seat next to El, Jonathan squeezing in on the other side of him. 

Across the table, Mike sat down, taking up most of the booth. He looked lost in thought so Will didn’t think he’d done it on purpose. Then, Mike looked up, catching Nancy’s eye and the two exchanged a look that was awkward at first but slowly melted into something softer, an unspoken understanding passing between them. 

Mike huffed, scooting farther in and leaving a wide space for Nancy to sit down. She did so with a smile, leaning over to bump their shoulders together. Mike scrunched his nose in a grimace but a second later his mouth twitched up into a smile. He looked back at Nancy again and this time, when their eyes met, they both broke out into stifled laughter. 

Will looked over at Jonathan beside him and the two of them exchanged a series of raised eyebrows. Will knew they were both thinking the same thing. 

Who knew the Wheeler siblings could actually be affectionate with one another?

It seemed that their encounter with Older Mike had caused a cosmic shift within the group. They didn’t talk about it but then they didn’t really have to. 

When their food came, they were a flurry of voices and movement. 

“Jonathan, can I have your water? I finished mine,” El said. 

“Pass the butter, Mike.”

“You have hands. Get it yourself,” Mike snapped at his sister. 

“Here,” Jonathan said, passing El the water across Will. 

“Careful! Careful!” Will said as the glass tilted and some water spilled over the edge onto his plate. 

“You’re closer. Just pass it would you?”

“I’m busy.” Mike said, unfurling his silverware. 

Nancy ripped Mike’s napkin away and smushed it into his face. 

“Nancy!” He spluttered. 

“Butter. Now.”

“Alright! Alright!”

“Nancy, are you going to eat your strawberries?”

“Oh, do you want them, El,” Nancy asked as she was finally handed the butter. She set the dish down, scooping her strawberries into her hand. “Here. You can have them.”

El beamed, reaching across the table to take the proffered strawberries. 

“Can I have some,” Mike asked. 

“No,” El and Nancy said in unison. 

“God, I was just asking.”

“Excuse me,” Will said, reaching over Jonathan for the bottle of syrup at the end of the table. At the same time, Mike reached for it too and their hands collided, both of their heads snapping up to look at each other in surprise. 

“S-Sorry,” Will stuttered. 

“No, go ahead.” Mike drew his hand back, and Will quickly snatched up the bottle, pouring a healthy amount of syrup over his eggs. 

“Here,” he said, passing the bottle over to Mike. He tried not to think too hard about the fact that Mike’s hand brushed over his again, not caring to try and avoid the touch. 

“Thanks.”

“Ew!” Nancy whined, making a face as she stared at Mike and Will’s plates, “Seriously? That’s disgusting!”

“Eggs and syrup are not disgusting,” Mike said immediately, “It’s, like, the perfect combination of savory and sweet.”

“That’s what I always tell, Jonathan!” Will exclaimed. 

“And I still think you’re crazy,” Jonathan muttered. 

“Well, I agree with you, Will,” Mike said, sending Will a look over the table that made his chest fill with warmth. Then, Mike turned to El and said, “What do you think? There’s five of us, so that makes you the decider between us.”

“I…” El looked around the table a little nervously, “I’ve never tried it before.”

The group immediately erupted with a series of cries, begging her to try so that she could vote. El did, slowly chewing the bite of soggy eggs that Will had given her from his plate. 

“Come on, El. You can be honest,” Nancy said, “It’s disgusting, isn’t it?”

El’s lips pressed together in a smile as she nodded. “Yes, it is.”

“What?!”

“No way!”

“El, how could you?”

“Will, I’m sorry. You have to disown her now. Disown Jonathan too. It’s okay. You can just live with me from now on.”

“I already live with you, doofus.”

“Yeah, but now the others aren’t invited. You can have Nancy’s room.”

“Don’t listen to them, El. They share one half of the same brain cell. Boys are like that sometimes,” Nancy said consolingly. 

“Hey! Don’t rope me in with them! I’m on your side!” Jonathan cried. 

Mike continued to rant about how people’s tastebuds don’t really mature until age twenty one but that he and Will had been lucky enough to mature early. His rambling soon devolved into some scientific jargon that Will was pretty sure he was just bullshitting for the fun of it. El giggled into her waffles, amused by the dramatics. 

On his other side, Nancy and Jonathan fell into conversation, reminiscing about how this reminded them of a date they’d gone on once that had ended in a charming disaster due to a clumsy waiter and a bouquet of thorny roses. 

Will couldn’t stop smiling. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so effortlessly happy. 

Hawkins was still Hawkins, a certifiable war zone sitting just beyond the diner windows, but inside was warm and the sound of bickering and laughter was all around him, enveloping him like a long awaited hug. 

Beneath the table, Mike’s foot accidentally bumped up against his. Will jolted, looking up at him, but Mike was still ranting about something, his attention focused on his captive audience—an increasingly incredulous El. But he didn’t move away. 

Mike’s foot stayed against Will’s for the rest of the meal, the bony knobs of their exposed ankles pressed together, trading warmth. It was grounding. Will let all of his happiness seep through that one point of contact, feeling like he could handle this bubbly feeling that felt too good to trust so long as he got to share it with Mike. 

That night, back in the Wheeler basement after everyone else had gone to bed, Will had a talk with Jonathan. 

Jonathan sat down on the couch that was his makeshift bed, giving Will a serious look before patting the space beside him. 

Will practically collapsed down next to his brother and before he knew it, everything that he’d kept tightly to his chest for so many years came spilling out. 

Jonathan held him as Will confessed everything he had felt and kept a secret. He apologized—wouldn’t stop apologizing—and Jonathan apologized back until they were both laughing and crying over the ridiculousness of it. 

When Will finally pulled away again, Jonathan laid a hand on Will’s shoulder and told him that he was proud of him, that he still loved him. 

“I know,” Will said, “I love you too.”

It took a few more minutes before Jonathan finally got up the nerve to ask Will what Older Mike had said to him back in the woods. 

Will smiled and told him that he wanted to keep that to himself. Jonathan understood that—he was always so understanding. Will pulled his brother into another long hug. 

Then, when they’d pulled away and wiped their tears for a second time, Will said, “So… NYU, huh?”

Jonathan let out a wet laugh. “God, I almost forgot about that.”

“Forgot?” Will squawked, “Jonathan, that’s been your dream since you were, like, seven!”

“I know, I know,” Jonathan said, “I guess I was just occupied with other things. You know, like time travel. Will, how are we at the point where we’re dealing with time travel!”

“I don’t know,” Will chuckled, “But that doesn’t erase the fact that this is a big deal for you. Your dreams matter too, Jonathan. You know that, right? You’re—You’re my big brother, my best friend. But you’re more than that too. You’re your own person. And I, for one, am very happy for you.”

Jonathan’s face crumpled, nodding swiftly as he bit his lip. “I—I know. Thank you. Thanks, Will.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Will said, rolling his eyes, “Just, you know, make sure you make that application deadline.”

Jonathan laughed. “I will. I promise.”

And just like that, Will and Jonathan were more okay than they’d been in a long while. 

Much later, Will would look back on the following days with fondness. Nothing miraculous happened, but Will just remembered them being filled with happiness, hope. 

Breakfast at the Wheeler’s dining table was no longer awkward and stilted, but instead filled with chatter—bickering at times, but mostly just nonsense, things that didn’t really matter in the long run but felt like everything after a lifetime of horrors. 

Mike was different too, maybe not as outwardly as the rest of them, but there was something in his eyes. Will kept catching him staring into the middle distance with a weighty, thoughtful expression. He was also less surly now. Whereas before he was skittish, quick to snap at anyone who got too close, now he was more relaxed, patient. 

The biggest change in Mike was how he treated Will. 

In the span of a couple of days, Mike went from avoiding Will to following him around everywhere. He’d even tried to follow Will to the bathroom at one point, which Will had to put a swift end to. 

They didn’t talk about it. They just fell into the new routine, like putting on an old favorite record that you still knew the lyrics to. It was almost unconscious except for the fact that Will couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

Lucas was the first to notice the change, or at least the first one to point it out. 

The party was gathered in the Wheeler basement, as they tended to do. Ordinarily, they would catch up and eventually pull out a board game or continue with a dnd campaign they were in the middle of. 

That was how it used to be. 

Now things were strained. Lucas was upset over Max and Dustin was still grieving Eddie. And Will was still grappling with the fact that Mike wasn’t the only friend he’d been separated from when he went to Lenora. 

He felt like he’d missed so much. He didn’t know how to react when Lucas sent him tight smiles, trying to pretend like everything was okay. He didn’t know how to talk to Dustin who was definitely not okay and just as likely to explode as he was to respond with a bland look whenever Will ventured to ask how he was. 

It was exhausting, but they were still Will’s friends, and even if it was hard work, he wouldn’t give up on them, he refused to let them slip through his fingers. 

“I wish I could have been there,” Will said after Lucas described the game-winning shot he’d made last fall, “I can’t believe you even made the team! Not that I don’t believe you could. Obviously you could. You did. But I just mean that the rest of us are hopelessly unathletic. I’d pay a lot of money to see Mike try and run for even five minutes.”

“Wh—hey!” Mike protested from where he was sitting on the couch, his knee knocking into Will’s shoulder from where he sat cross legged on the carpet in front of him. 

“Oh he’d totally eat shit,” Lucas smirked. 

“What the hell, Lucas!”

“Hey, remember that time we had that rollerskating unit in gym class and Mike fell down and split his pants?” Dustin said, barely able to get the words out before he burst out laughing, the others joining in. 

“I didn’t fall down,” Mike said, rolling his eyes. “Troy shoved me down. I’m a good skater. Will, tell them.”

“What?”

“We went skating in California. I didn’t fall then, did I?

“Uh, no?”

“Exactly. So I’m a good skater.”

“Dude, it’s fine. You don’t need to be good at everything. You’re already smart. Why does it matter if you’re athletic or not?” Lucas said. 

“I don’t care—I am a good skater though. That’s all I’m saying. Like, sure, I’m not doing crazy spins or anything. But I can skate. I can even go backwards!”

“Bullshit,” Dustin crowed. 

“No, not bullshit! Fact! Will—”

“Why do you keep bringing Will into this? Is he your personal fact checker or something,” Lucas asked. 

“You guys are the ones who refuse to believe me!” Mike shot back. 

“Fine. I know how to settle this,” Dustin said. 

“How?”

“We’ll go skating. This weekend,” Dustin said, “And we’ll have a race. Whoever can get from one end of the rink to the other first gets to be the skating king and no one is allowed to ever question his abilities ever again.”

“That sounds like a very bad idea,” Will stated. 

“Sounds like something a bad skater would say,” Lucas said. 

“What? Hey, no, I’m not—I’m probably better than all of you. I’ve certainly gone to more roller skating rinks in the last year that you have,” Will said. 

“So, you’re saying you’re in too” Dustin smirked. 

Will picked up a Musketeers bar sitting on the side table next to him, slamming it down on the carpet. He looked around the room, narrowing his eyes at his friends. 

“Ooh, gauntlet thrown,” Lucas sang. 

“Well?” 

Dustin shot out of his seat, snagging the candy bar. He opened the wrapper and took a large bite as he met Will’s expectant gaze. “I accept your challenge, good sir.”

“Saturday. Four o’clock.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

Will smiled. He looked back over his shoulder at Mike on instinct. 

A smile grew on Mike’s face as well as he met Will’s gaze and nodded. “Yeah. We’ll all be there.”

Later, after Dustin had left early for dinner with his mom and while Mike was in the bathroom, Lucas pulled Will off to the side in the living room upstairs. 

“Hey, man.”

“Hi,” Will said with a confused smile, “Did you, uh, need something?”

“I just wanted to say thanks for whatever you did to pull Mike’s head out of his ass. These last couple months have been tough already with the Upside Down and… Max. And with Mike being sulky and Dustin always angry, it kind of felt like fighting a battle on too many fronts,” Lucas admitted, and Will felt his heart pang sympathetically for his friend. “Anyway, it’s just nice. You guys seem good again. Like yourselves. And I think we need Mike and Will more than ever now. You know, as a team. You guys are my best friends. I think I just missed how things used to be. But today felt good. It felt like how it used to be.”

Will laid a hand on Lucas’s shoulder. “I get what you mean. It’s been hard on all of us, but we’re all still here. We’re all still your friends, Lucas. That isn’t ever going to change, okay? Not ever.”

Lucas nodded, looking incredibly relieved. “Yeah. Yeah, same here. If you ever need anything, Will—”

“I’ll come find you,” Will finished with a smile. 

Just then, Mike re-entered the room, and Will let his hand drop off Lucas’s shoulder. 

Mike and Will said goodbye to Lucas at the front door, then they made the trek upstairs to Mike’s room. They didn’t talk about it. Mike just gave Will a look and Will knew to follow. 

They both ended up on Mike’s bed. Mike was propped up against his headboard, reading some sci-fi novel called Ringworld, while Will sat hunched at the end of the bed, drawing in a half-used spiral notebook that had Mike’s eighth grade math homework covering the first twenty or so pages. 

It was quiet, comfortable. 

Will was lost in his drawing, when Mike cleared his throat. 

Suddenly, he closed his book, shifting down the bed so he could look at Will’s drawing. 

Will froze. It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed what he was drawing. Obviously he did. He was drawing it. But he hadn’t stopped to think how weird it might be to Mike. He looked up nervously, but his friend was just looking down at the page with an expression of awe. 

“Is that… me?”

“I, uh, yeah,” Will said sheepishly, “I wanted to—you know, sketch it out before I forgot what you looked like.”

The drawing was of Older Mike. He’d taken care to trace the features of his face exactly how he’d remembered them, using Mike as a reference point and altering the proportions that differed between the two. It still didn’t quite capture him. Drawing Mike had always been frustrating like that but Will was especially frustrated with this drawing, knowing that he’d have to wait another ten years to see this version of Mike again. 

It was probably stupid, but some part of Will felt like if he could hold onto the image of Older Mike then that would guarantee their future and everything that he hoped would happen would come to pass. 

“It’s good,” Mike said after a long pause, his voice scratchy. 

“You don’t have to say that. I’m sorry if it’s weird that I drew you—him. I—”

“Why would it be weird?” Mike said, “You’re a great artist. It’s kind of flattering. You make me look… less frog faced.”

Mike tried to play it off like a joke, but Will wasn’t very amused.  “You don’t have a frog face, Mike,” Will said, “You’re… You don’t. And besides, since when do you listen to anything that Troy and his goons say anyway? They’ve never been right about anything in their lives!”

Will flung his hands around aggressively. 

Mike shifted. “I don’t know. Maybe…” he bit his lip, “Maybe they’re right about some things.”

“Braxton failed English in sixth grade. He had to get a tutor over the summer. And Carter went to the hospital once because he accidentally ate medicine meant for his sick cat,” Will said seriously, “The point is, they’re all idiots. Mouth breathers. And we don’t listen to mouth breathers.”

“Okay, but what if… what if they got something right. Like, by accident.”

Will furrowed his brows. “But they’re not right. Mike, you’re not ugly. Not even close.”

“No, not—I mean, it’s a little bit about that. But that’s not what I’m talking about!”

“I’m confused. What are we talking about?”

“Me—Older me. A-And those stupid fucking mouth breathers. And how everyone in my life seems to know things about me before I do. Or maybe I knew but I didn’t really know, you know? And it’s just not fair. It’s not fair that I can’t be normal even in the future!” Mike spit out the word normal like it was a curse. Like it was something he was jealous of. 

“Mike.” Will set his notebook and pencil aside, turning so that he was fully facing Mike now, their knees just touching one another. 

This was serious. Whatever Mike was talking about, it had him really freaked, his hands tugging anxiously at his pants, his eyes flicking around to everything in the room, staunchly ignoring Will’s curious gaze. 

“Mike,” he said again, gentler, “What’s this about? Come on. Talk to me.”

Mike looked like he was going to bolt. His whole body was tense like there was a live wire running through him. Briefly, his eyes met Will’s, and Will was shocked to see tears brimming in them. 

“Do you…” Mike took a breath. “Do you remember back when we were kids and I used to have terrible handwriting? The other guys would always tease me for it. And Mrs. D had to stage that intervention with my parents. And my mom wouldn’t stop asking my dad if they should take me to a psychiatrist to make sure it wasn’t a sign that I was, like, fucked in the head or whatever. Do you remember that?”

Will nodded hesitantly. 

“But you could always read my writing,” Mike continued, “And you never made fun of me for it. I don’t know. I think that’s when I realized that things were different with you. That no matter what, you’d always have my back.”

Mike looked up at Will. 

“Right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Will said, “But, Mike—”

“No, just—let me finish. Please.”

Will sank back and nodded. 

It was a few more seconds before Mike spoke again, his voice tentative and strained. “I just think that—of all the people in my life—you’re the one person who’s never made me feel bad about being weird or confusing or… different.”

Will swallowed. Something began to creep up on him, an understanding he couldn’t yet name. He had a feeling he already knew what Mike was trying to say but at the same time it felt unreal, impossible. 

“And I feel like I need to tell you, for so many reasons, but mostly because if you don’t understand, then no one else will. And if no one understands then… then… I don’t know what I’ll do,” Mike whispered. His voice cracked, full of pain, and Will’s heart nearly broke. 

He reached forward, curling his hand protectively around the trembling hand gripping the comforter beneath them. The hand relaxed. Will held on tighter, refusing to let go.

“Tell me,” Will said gently, urgently. 

“Fine. Just please don’t hate—”

“Never.”

Mike huffed. “You don’t know—”

“Never,” Will repeated. 

Mike looked in his eyes and it looked like he was starting to believe him. “Okay.”

A beat.

“Okay, I’ll tell you.”

Will waited. 

“Ugh, okay. Why is this so hard to say? Okay. Fine. Whatever,” Mike spat, “Troy was right. They were all right. About me. All the name calling. And the insinuations. It was all true. I didn’t even really realize it until El and I broke up a few weeks ago, and even then I was really only just starting to figure it out—”

Wait, what? He and El had broken up? Somehow, the last month made a lot more sense. Mike had been acting strange, distant and moody even more than usual. And Will couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Mike and El have an actual conversation.

That wasn’t important now though, not when Mike was trying to tell Will something, looking on the verge of tears.

“But after meeting him, after meeting me, it’s like I couldn’t ignore it anymore,” Mike continued before looking up, meeting Will’s gaze with wet eyes, “Will, I’m not—I don’t… I’m…”

Mike groaned. He reached up, tugging on the ends of his hair in frustration.

“Why can’t I just say it?”

Will reached up, grabbing Mike’s wrist and bringing it down so that he was holding both of Mike’s hands in his lap. 

Will looked Mike in the eyes. 

Mike looked back, angry, terrified. He was falling apart at the seams, and Will knew that he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t say it.

But he didn’t have to. Will understood anyway. 

“You’re queer,” Will finished for him, a small inflection at the end just in case he had wildly misread the situation. 

Mike flinched. Then, all of the tension left his body, tears falling down his face as he nodded his head fervently. “Yeah,” he gasped, “Yeah, I am.”

Will lunged, wrapping his arms around Mike and pulling him into his chest. 

Mike sobbed louder, clutching onto Will like a lifeline. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re good. You’re good.” Will murmured. “It’s okay, Mike.”

They stayed like that for a long time, Mike crying loudly and Will—well he cried quietly. He couldn’t help it. It was a mix of sympathy and pride and relief. 

For years, Will had thought he was alone, that for as much as he had found people like him, people who understood him, there was still one piece of him they’d never get. 

But Mike was like him. 

He’d never been alone. There were other people like him, and not just other people, but his best friend. Will could cry tears of joy. Well, he was already doing that. 

This moment, here, crying with Mike on his bed, felt like the best part of a story—the point where the Calvary comes in during the final battle just as the heroes start to lose hope, the scene when the detective finds the missing link that helps them solve the mystery, the page that you have dog-eared and highlighted and underlined, the moment when everything changes. 

When he and Mike finally pulled away from each other, their eyes met and the two of them burst out laughing.

Finally, as their laughter petered off, Will squared his shoulders, smiling wetly as he said, “Me too.”

“What?”

“Come on, Mike,” WIll said, giving him a look, “Don’t make me say it.”

Mike’s eyes widened. “You’re… you too?”

Will let out a shaky breath and nodded.

“No way!” Mike exclaimed before he grimaced and quickly corrected himself, “I mean, not no way. God, I didn’t mean it like that. I believe you. I’m just—surprised! And… And… are you really?”

Will nodded again.

Then, like a comet streaking across the sky, Mike beamed. He reached forward, gripping tightly onto Will’s shoulder. “You’re amazing, Will.”

Will raised his eyebrows at that, laughing a little as he said, “For being gay?”

“For being you,” Mike corrected, whatever that meant.

Will flushed. “So are you. You’re so brave, just like your dnd character.”

Mike snorted. “I am not brave.”

“I think you are,” Will said earnestly, “You just came out to me, Mike. That’s huge. I could have reacted really badly. Most people…” Will’s smile dimmed “Most people would have.”

Mike pulled a face. “Well, great. Now you tell me? What happened to ‘I could never hate you, Mike’? Was that all bullshit?”

“No! Of course not! I’m just saying—” Will caught Mike’s teasing grin “Oh. You’re—You’re joking.”

“Duh,” Mike said.

Will shoved him and Mike’s hand fell off his shoulder. The two sat there for a moment, only inches apart, staring around the room before catching each other’s eye and giggling to themselves before looking away again.

“Dinner!” Holly’s voice exploded through the house. 

Will got up from the bed and started to move towards the door. He hadn’t even realized how hungry he was until just now. He hoped Mrs. Wheeler had made her chicken cordon bleu again. 

Suddenly, Will was halted by a touch on his wrist. He looked back, finding Mike still on the bed, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“Wait,” Mike said breathlessly, “There’s—There’s something else I wanted to say.”

Will raised his eyebrows. There was more?

Then, like a montage in a movie, several facts re-entered his consciousness. 

Older Mike had told Will that he had a boyfriend. 

Older Mike had told Will that he was incredibly happy. 

Older Will was still obviously, hopelessly in love with Mike. 

Mike was his best friend. 

Mike was gay, or at least he wasn’t straight. 

As a matter of hard earned experience, Will didn’t make it a habit of expecting good things to happen to him. He didn’t trust that, when they did come, that they would last. Being happy, truly happy, was a foreign concept to him. 

Still, Mike was looking up at him with those adorably sweet eyes, holding onto Will’s wrist like he was something delicate, and Will knew that had to mean something. 

If Mike could be brave, then he would be wise. 

And this had to mean something. 

“Will, I—”

Will ducked down, leaning forward to press his lips against Mike’s, brief but firm, just long enough for Mike to be sure that he meant it. 

Will pulled back, watching Mike’s expression anxiously, but the nerves barely had time to buzz before they were killed by the wave of warmth that rolled over him. 

Mike was staring at him, open mouthed and awed. 

Will giggled. 

“What—uh—wh—”

“Come on,” Will said, smiling as he shifted his arm so that his hand slid into Mike’s. He pulled Mike to his feet with little resistance, Mike following his movements like a moth helplessly drawn to a flame. He was still staring at Will’s lips. 

“Mike,” Will said in exasperation, “We’re about to have dinner with your family. You need to fix your face or something.”

“I need to—Will, you just,” Mike lowered his voice, “Kissed me.”

“And? You like me,” Will retaliated. 

Mike spluttered again. He looked unbelievably flustered. Will didn’t think he’d ever seen him blush so hard. His eyes were just as bad, a little glazed with shock before they locked onto Will again, darkening with what Will now felt confident enough to call desire. 

Will preened. 

“You knew?” Mike said, horrified. 

“To be honest, I just found out like two minutes ago. I didn’t even know you were… you know. That you liking me was even a possibility. But then it was and after what your older self said—”

“He told you I liked you?” Mike said, brow furrowed. 

“No. No, of course not. He just—well, he said I was happy in the future. And he might’ve also accidentally let it slip that I had a boyfriend in the future. And after I saw Older Me, it was obvious that I was still hopelessly obsessed with you. So, I just—put two and two together, I guess.”

Mike looked floored. “M-Me too. I mean, I saw how I was with you, how comfortable I was with you in the future. He would touch you and stand close to you and look at you, and it made me so jealous. It also made me realize that I’d never seen myself in love before. I didn’t even know what the signs would be until they were literally staring me in the face.”

Will’s breath caught, his eyes widening. 

“You… love me?”

“Well, I…” Mike shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Will’s gaze. He looked embarrassed, a flush returning to his cheeks. “Yeah. I guess I do. Is that… okay?”

Will darted in again, kissing Mike swiftly and soundly. 

Mike gaped. 

“Yeah.” Will smiled. “I guess that’s okay with me.”

“I—cool. That’s—okay. So, dinner? Did you want to—” 

Will was pretty sure he was witnessing a full Mike Wheeler shutdown. It was cute. 

“Yeah. Dinner.”

Will began to move again, but his hand was still attached to Mike’s who stayed stationary, dragging him back. 

“Mike. We have to—” 

“You said we were boyfriends in the future,” Mike said quietly. 

Will swallowed. For as much as he was acting unaffected by all of this, he was. He was very much affected. And hearing Mike say something like that did something to him, his whole body flushing with heat. 

“Uh, I don’t know for certain. I mean, I hoped—”

“Can we start now?” Mike blurted out. 

Will stared at him with wide eyes. 

“Boys!” Mrs. Wheeler shouted up the stairs, “Dinner is ready! Please come down!”

“Y-Yeah,” Will stuttered in answer to Mike’s question, “Yes, please. If you want—”

This time it was Mike who leaned in first, silencing him with his lips. 

Will melted into the touch, his body sagging into Mike’s, his free hand that wasn’t still holding Mike’s reached up to press against his chest. The kiss deepened for a second before Mike pulled back, Will still chasing after his lips. 

When he finally opened his eyes a moment later, he found Mike smirking at him. Will swallowed. He was so screwed. 

“Come on,” Mike said, stepping back and moving around Will’s still body towards the door. 

Will followed him. 

Out in the hall, they exchanged a look. Smiles bloomed on both of their faces, and Mike leaned over, bumping shoulders with Will as they reached the top of the stairs. 

A giggle spilled out of Will’s lips. He tried to bump Mike back, missing as Mike darted forward to escape the touch. Will moved faster, racing to catch up with him, shoving his shoulder on the landing in front of the stairs. Mike slipped a little, just managing to catch himself on the banister. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Will giggled. 

Mike just shoved him back. 

“I really hope you have more grace than that on Saturday,” Will joked. 

“I have grace when I’m not being shoved!” Mike retaliated. 

Just then, Mike turned around the corner to enter the dining room, not looking where he was going as he was still looking back at Will and banged his arm into the side of the doorway. He winced, and Will let out a loud cackle. 

Mike glared at him. 

Will raised his hands defensively. “Hey, I didn’t even touch you that time!”

“You distracted me.”

“Oh, because I’m so distracting,” Will said as they migrated towards the table where Jonathan, Nancy, and Holly were already sitting. 

Mike shot Will a smoldering look that told him, yes, he really was.

Will swallowed, looking away and trying to remind himself that they had an audience now. 

Then, Mrs. Wheeler entered with a plate of food and Mr. Wheeler came in from the living room. 

It was a dinner just like any other, except this one was better. Because Will got to sit next to Mike, and every time they brushed elbows, Mike would lean into the touch, and every time their eyes met, Mike’s eyes would crinkle around the corner as he smiled. And Will was starting to understand how Older Mike had gotten those crow’s feet, and he felt a deep sense of pride in thinking that he might be the person that put them there, that made Mike smile so widely, so freely. 

When Older Mike had shown up and told Will that he would be happy one day, Will hadn’t known for certain if he believed him. 

Now, Will was never more certain of anything in his life. 

They would defeat Vecna and the Upside Down. They would all survive and get out of Hawkins. 

Maybe Will would move to New York like Jonathan. Maybe he and Mike would get an apartment there after college. And they would probably never get married, never wear rings on their fingers like all the other couples did, but to them, to the people that mattered, it would be undeniable. 

This last week had been a crazy, unbelievable experience, even for them, but it had given Will a brief glimpse into his future, and now Will knew. 

They would be happy. 

He looked over at his side to find Mike already looking at him, his eyes soft and full of affection. 

A feeling bubbled up in Will’s chest—so bright Will didn’t think he’d ever felt anything like it. 

They were happy right now. And it felt like the start to the rest of their lives.