Chapter Text
Mike watched with terror as the Demogorgan lunged itself at him, long bony arms outstretched towards him. Its closed-budded face blossoming open with the promise of death, to spill the red blood upon the floor.
Mike shields his face on instinct, arms up to his head, muscles tense and eyes squeezing shut. He winced as he could almost feel the merciless claws of the Demogorgan piercing his skin and flesh, breath drawing up and heart clenching.
Thoughts thundered through his mind, shaking his skull with primal fear.
I’m not ready to die. There’s still so many things to say.
The dread in his stomach was nauseating. He was ready. Ready for his blood to soak the kids. The ones he’d failed to be protect.
Except the painful and somehow relieving end never came.
Mike realized had been holding his breath in that moment. He shakily exhaled and slowly lowered his arms down to his sides.
The Demogorgan was frozen in the air.
Except it wasn’t still.
It was trembling with strength and somehow being detained by another force that was magnetic and vibratory. Like El’s powers, Mike recalled.
But how in the hell?
Suddenly, the arm of the Demogorgan snapped in the opposite way. Mike clenched his jaw, refraining from crying out. His hands were shaking with panic.
Then the other arm, and the limbs soon after.
His chest rising quickly, Mike realized this was the manner in which Vecna killed his victims last year, brutal and unforgiving. Vecna’s curse..
SNAP!
The Demogorgans head had twisted back with a loud crunch, but the head was still intact.
Mike stumbled back and leaned on the hood of a car behind him, his arm that he injured earlier in the restroom throbbing in pain as he shifted his body weight onto his other arm.
Abruptly, the Demogorgan fell to the wet glimmering concrete, broken and twisted.
That was when Mike saw him.
Will Byers.
His arm was outstretched towards the Demogorgan that nearly killed Mike just seconds before. Will just saved me. He saved me from death.
Time seemed to slow down when Wills white eyes rolled down and met Mikes. In that sacred moment, nothing else mattered. The small fires surrounding them didn’t seem threatening, but calming. As if they were protecting them from all the ugly things outside.
Will, never taking his eyes off of Mike, wiped the blood trickling down his nose. Mike continued to stare in awe.
Mike felt his chest tighten at the sight of Wills gleaming dark brown eyes staring back at him. His eyes were always unwavering with kindness and sensitivity. A small smile began to tug at the corners of his lips, hopeful and budding with possibility.
Except if there’s anything Mike has learned about things is that they don’t last long.
Mikes smile fell as Wills eyes rolled to the back of his head, body tipping as he collapsed onto the concrete. Mike immediately sprang to action and ran to where Will had fallen to the ground, hands reaching out. He frantically began checking his body for any visible injuries, stomach twisting with anxiety. He should’ve known this would happen.
“Will, You’re going to be okay! Just hold on, alright?” Mikes voice was strained with distress.
“Will, sweetheart!” Mikes head snapped up from looking at his friend before landing on Joyce, who was rushing over to the both of them.
“Joyce, I don’t know what happened! He..” His voice trailed off as Joyce knelt down and started to check for any signs of injury. Mike awkwardly passed Wills unconscious body towards Joyce, not wanting to let go of him.
“We have to get out of here, before those things come back.” Joyce said to Mike, her voice quivering. Mike knew he should be worried about that but the only thing concerning him was Will.
Joyce began hauling Wills body towards her car as Mike jumped into the backseat seat and suddenly had a limp Will Byers in his lap. Mikes breath hitched.
“Uh, Joy-“
“I know, I know. I’m sure Eleven is fine.”
Oh, Right.
Mike convinced himself he hadn’t even given El a thought because of what had just happened. However, he looked down and gazed at Wills facial features and felt a small pit forming in his stomach.
He could feel himself getting lost in his soft hair, his dark eyebrows, and the small mole above his lip that he adores so much.
His palm itched as he became conscious of the fact that he was seated behind Joyce, and he could hold Wills hand, or maybe even run his fingers over his cheekbones.
“That’s not what boys do.”
His fathers gruff and monotone voice echoed in his mind, reminding him of all the times Ted quirked his eyebrow when a six year old Mike jumped with joy as Will got to sleep in his room.
A vivid memory from his childhood suddenly came into play. It was July 14th, 1982. He must’ve been around 11 years old. Lying down on the living room carpet floor, Mike played with a Star Wars toy spaceship as Ted reclined on the chair. Karen was washing dishing in the kitchen, wearing a yellow apron with floral patterns. Ted was switching between channels on their television as he landed on the Global News.
A blonde haired woman spoke on the news, a voice that would change Mike forever.
”A mystery disease known as the gay plague has become a pandemic like no other America has faced before. The likely victims are male homosexuals-“
Ted changed the channel then paused. Filling the air with tension before Ted spoke, “Look at them now. Michael to be queer is to be a mistake. You see what happens?”
”Ted! He’s too young for that.”
Karen’s voice rang out and the conversation was over. But the damage was done. it had changed the way Mike would think about the world and his father.
Joyce suddenly clicked on the radio and Mike snapped out of his memories. It was “SmallTown boy”.
The answers you seek will never be found at home
The love that you need will never be found at home
Mikes brows furrowed as he got lost in his own thoughts. How is it forbidden when it feels this good? How can love be a sin? Do I even know what love is?
And as the gentle roar of the car driving brushed in his ears, Mike began to crumble.
Run away, turn away, run away, turn away