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Summary
Will Byers is possessed. Again. But this time it's coming for him fast and hard, and it's not something they can just force out by poking him with a fire iron; he needs a different form of release, and Mike Wheeler has been waiting.
It's El that answers for Will, and for every truth that she utters everything begins to click into place.
"Will would need someone to help him."
And there it finally is, the undeniable truth: Someone needs to fuck Will through it. It doesn't land like a sucker punch to the gut that would have left him winded like Mike had expected. Instead, the fact consumes him like a sudden blast of cold wind, eliciting a tingle in his skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake to travel from his arms up to his shoulders and to his nape, at the back of his ears. He feels it settle in his scalp like a hundred pinpricks from a needle.
"I'll do it."
Mike signs his death sentence in three words. He finds it hard to regret—even poor bastards due for the executioner's block are granted their last meal, after all.
Or: byler Fuck Or Die, wherein mike has to exorcise will by fucking the possession out of him as it is actively ongoing.