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Michael Wheeler woke up from a nightmare with the feeling that there was something wrong. Not that it was an unusual thing these days.
Then the fog of sleep cleared, and he remembered where he was—the Squawk; lying on a couch, sleeping like an idiot while everyone else was doing important stuff—and what they were doing. He shot to his feet.
“Oh god, I shouldn’t have been asleep!”
“Hey, it’s fine,” Dustin said, emerging from the shadows. “The crawl’s over, but nothing bad happened while you were asleep. Joyce said we should let you sleep.”
“You should have woken me up,” Mike grumbled. “I had a nightmare.”
“A Vecna nightmare?” Will asked, sitting up. He had been dozing off in a chair across the room, but he was awake now.
Mike ran a hand through his hair—he should really get a haircut—and sighed. “No, just… a normal one. I think.”
“Did you see anything Vecna-y?” Dustin asked.
“No.”
Will leaned forward. “Anything red and goopy?”
Mike scowled. “No.”
“Or with way too many teeth?” Dustin added.
“No.”
Will narrowed his eyes and Mike could tell he didn’t believe him, but Dustin just shrugged. “If you say so,” he muttered, pulling his jacket off and dumping it on a chair before leaving the room again.
“What crawl number was this?” Mike asked, hoping to change the subject to something a little less interrogative.
“Twenty-three!” Robin called from another room. “Did you have a nice nap, Wheeler?”
Mike winced. “Uh… yeah.”
Will coughed loudly. It sounded like he was trying not to laugh at Mike. Which was what he was doing.
Mike glared at him. “Where’s El?”
“Your girlfriend?”
“Do we know any other people named El?”
Will snorted a laugh and shrugged. “I guess not. She’s probably trying to find Vecna from her tub, like usually. Or— I dunno, stalking Hopper until he gets home.”
“Oh. Uh… Huh.”
Will gave him a weird look. “What? Did you need to talk to her about something important?”
Mike shrugged. “I just wanted to… y’know, talk to her. Because she’s my girlfriend.”
“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that,” Will said, frowning. He stared at Mike for a minute, than suggested, “You could call her.”
From the other room, Robin shouted, “No you can’t! Government’s listening or whatever!”
“Stop listening to our private conversation!” Mike yelled back at her. He paused, then turned back to Will. “Uh… Thanks anyway.” He glanced down at his watch and cursed loudly. “Oh, it’s late. I should— I should go, I guess. My parents wanted me home for dinner today.”
“Already?”
Mike scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah… Holly did something impressive at school or… whatever.” He shrugged. “Y’know. Family stuff, all that.”
Will nodded slowly, and Mike’s gaze dropped from Will’s striking hazel eyes—his stupid, distracting eyes—to a bandage on his left hand. Mike remembered when Will had cut himself on a piece of jagged plastic last week, while going through their old DnD figurines. Mike stared at the bandaid for a minute, then turned away.
“Well… gotta go,” Mike said, awkwardly.
Will waved. “See you later.”
Mike nodded. “See you later.”
Dinner was an awkward affair. Ted and Holly were eating like normal, Nancy was determined to pretend everything was normal and there wasn’t a government quarantine over the town, and Karen was attempting to make conversation. The Byers were eating out at a restaurant or maybe at Dustin’s house. Mike was barely eating. He felt sick.
Karen looked concerned. “Mike, are you okay?”
Mike started and looked up from his plate. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”
“You’ve been out so late these past couple of months,” Karen pressed, seizing the opportunity to start a conversation. “Are you and your friends playing your dragon game? The ones with the… the swords, and the magic spells?”
“It’s called Dungeons and Dragons, Mom.” Mike shrugged. “Yeah, we’re just doing… a really intense campaign.” He gestured vaguely. “Y’know, with… really crazy monsters Will came up with.”
Karen sighed. “Alright. I just miss having family dinners together. You and Nancy spend so much time at your Dungeons and Dragons club.”
Nancy leaned forward. “Well, we’re not just playing DnD,” she explained. “We’re also helping the Byers. You know how hard it’s been for them to settle back in here, with the lockdown coming while they were, uh, visiting, and… uh…”
Mike nodded. “Uh. Yeah.”
So, yeah, maybe they were doing a bit more than helping the Byers
“Are you sure you couldn’t spend a little more time here?” Karen asked. “It’s just that, you know, I thought the one good thing about the lockdown might be that we could spend more time together as a family. But with the Byers staying here, and you two always out doing things with your friends…” Karen sounded tired, more than was usual for a mother of three.
“Don’t worry, Mom. We’ll try to spend more time at home soon,” Nancy promised. “We’re getting close to the end of the… uh, campaign, and then we’ll have plenty of time to spend family time together.”
(Spoiler for season five: they did not, in fact, ever get around to actually doing that during the lockdown)
After that, the Wheelers went back to eating in silence, apart frim the occasional, “Pass the salt” or “Holly, try not to drop your fork again”. There was still a tightness in Mike’s stomach. Not painful, but not pleasant.
Suddenly his stomach lurched. Abruptly, Mike stood up. “Mom? Can I be excused?”
“Why?” Karen asked.
“I have to go do something really quickly.”
Karen nodded slowly, confused. “Okay, Mike, just come back soon.”
“Yeah, I’ll be back in a minute.”
Mike left the room as fast as he could without looking weird, then clapped a hand over his mouth and sprinted upstairs. He slammed the bathroom door and sat on the floor, trying to breathe deeply, but it wasn’t helping.
“Oh my god,” Mike groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. I’m not gonna throw up. I’m gonna throw up.”
Mike did not throw up. Probably. He wasn’t… completely lucid during all of that.
After a while he went to his own room and pulled out his walkie-talkie.
“Will?” he asked, voice hoarse. “Are you there?”
No response. After a few minutes, he tried again.
“Will? Please… I wanna talk.”
Static crackled. “Mike? I’m here.”
“Can we talk?” Mike asked.
“Sure,” Will said. “Is everything… Are you… okay?”
“I-I’m fine,” Mike said, voice shaking. “But I was just… at dinner and I felt sick and it was like… like…”
“Like Vecna?” Will interrupted.
“Not everything is about Vecna, Will.”
“Literally everything that has happened in the last three years has been about Vecna in one way or another.”
“No, there were the Russians,” Mike said.
“Who wanted to get into the Upside-Down, which is also known as Vecnaland,” Will argued.
Mike laughed a little at that. “No, no, it’s not Vecna I’m just… I’ve been feeling a little weird lately.”
“Really?” asked Will. “Are you sure you’re not imagining it?”
Mike frowned a little. That didn’t sound like something Will would say. “What? No, I’m not— I’m not imagining it.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Will continued. “There’s so much stress in our lives that I’m sure you’re just subconsciously blowing up tiny things into huge disasters.”
Okay, that really wasn’t something Will would say.
Mike set down the walkie-talkie and stood up. “Hey!” he shouted. “Is this a dream?”
There was no response, but Mike really hadn’t expected one anyway.
Then he heard a crash from downstairs. “It’s probably just a dream,” Mike muttered to himself. “Just a dream. Just a dream.”
He carefully made his way downstairs to the dining room, but there was no one there. The chairs were all knocked over and the table was thrown on its side. There was a dark streak on the floor, which could have been wine or blood.
Mike was hoping it was wine.
“Mom?” he called. “Nancy? Holly?”
No response.
“If this is a joke,” Mike announced, “it’s not funny. If this is a dream, I want to wake up.” He paused, then went out into the front yard. The light overhead was flickering faintly, but other than that, everything was normal.
Then he saw the bike lying in the grass. A yellow bike.
Will’s bike.
Mike’s heart rate spiked. “Nope!” he yelled at the sky. “No way! If this is you, Vecna, get out of my head!”
A voice, dry and raspy, echoed faintly inside Mike’s head. “Don’t you feel guilty? If you had done something different, your precious Will wouldn’t have been taken.”
Mike closed his eyes tightly like a child thinking that horrors they can’t see will disappear. “No, it wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t my fault.”
“But you’re glad, aren’t you?” asked a very familiar voice. Mike glanced up.
It was Will—or, at least, it was a thing that looked like Will. Its eyes were horrible and white, like two perfect orbs of snow.
“What?” Mike asked, stepping back. “Why would I be glad? That doesn’t— It’s—”
“You’re glad he was taken, aren’t you?” the thing—Vecna? Or just a monster?—said, its voice taking on a jagged edge. “You’re glad Will vanished, because it let you meet darling Eleven. What was it you said?”
“Shut up,” Mike muttered, glaring at the ground.
“‘I feel like my life started that day we found you in the woods’,” the thing that was probably Vecna said in a high, mocking voice. “You yourself can’t even believe how terrible a person you are. You can’t even think about how glad you are you met Eleven.”
“Shut up.”
“Or maybe there’s a reason that you’re so upset whenever the others talk about finding Eleven,” suggested the thing. “Maybe you don’t like being reminded of saying that to her because it’s not entirely true. Maybe there’s someone elsewho’s more important to you and you can’t believe that you let him get taken by me—”
“Shut up!” Mike screamed.
“Mike, are you okay?”
Mike woke up on the bathroom floor and realized he was screaming. His mom had probably noticed. “I— I’m fine,” he said, voice shaking. He hated that. “I just sort of… fell asleep on the floor. I just had… I just had a nightmare. I’m good.”
On the other side of the door, his mom sighed. “Alright. You missed dinner, so go downstairs and find something to eat before you go to bed. The Byers are back, but they’re all asleep by now.”
“Er, thanks,” Mike said, sitting up. “Good night, Mom.”
Mike didn’t actually eat anything that night. He sat on his bed, unable to fall asleep. At some point, he had started playing Smalltown Boy and automatically got up to restart it every four minutes.
What if I fall asleep and he comes back?
He was inside me, inside my head, what did he see in there?
That’s dumb, of course El is the most important person to me. She’s my girlfriend.
I’m not a terrible person, am I?
Maybe I should go downstairs and wake Will up.
Talking to him might make me feel better.
Mike glanced at the clock on his nightstand. 1:27 AM. Waking Will up would be stupid. He lied back down on his bed and closed his eyes. “El, are you walking around in the void tonight?” he asked.
Of course she’s not. It’s past one AM.
Mike sighed.
He didn’t get much sleep that night.
When he did, it was all nightmares.
“Mike! Get up! Will has plans for you!”
Mike was woken up by Nancy at seven AM on a Sunday, because Will was an absolute psycho who liked doing things at the crack of dawn. He groaned as he got up, and pulled a few layers on. It was too cold for anything light.
When he stumbled downstairs, he saw Will standing there, with Steve standing behind them. Steve looked like he’d been dragged from the grave—his hair was a mess, he was wearing a half-zipped jacket over his pajama shirt, and he was wearing two different shoes.
“What do you want?” Mike asked, irritated.
Steve groaned. “This weirdo called Henderson, got him to call me, and made me come and drive over here.” He glared at Will. “You have a bike, Byers.”
“Sorry,” Will said. “But I need your car.”
“Why is Steve Harrington in my house?” Mike demanded.
“Get in the car,” Will told him, pointing at Steve’s red BMW, which was parked right outside.
“Are you kidnapping me?” Mike asked as Will gave him a light shove. “Nancy, please help me!”
Nancy shrugged. “Sorry, Mike. Who am I to interfere with… whatever this is?”
“Kidnapping!” Mike shouted.
“Intervention,” Will said at the same time, slightly louder.
“Steve harassment,” Steve grumbled. “You’re sixteen; you can drive.”
“I’m fifteen,” Will corrected. “And one time I tried driving and almost crashed into the garage door.” He opened the backseat door and gestured to the seat. “After you, Mike.”
Mike snorted and got in. Giving up was easier than fighting, after all. Will sat next to him, and Steve slid into the driver’s seat. “So, where are we going?” he asked, seemingly also resigned to going along with whatever Will was planning to do.
“Can you take us to that diner?” Will asked. “The one with the good breakfast?”
Steve nodded and started the car. “Sure. I’m hungry anyway.”
“Thank you,” Mike yawned. “Merciful kidnapper.”
When they got to the diner, Steve pointed at a booth in the corner.
“Uh, you two can sit over there. I’m tired of being in, like, ten feet of you.” Steve sat down at the counter and immediately started talking to a waitress.
Will stared at him. “Oh. Okay. I wanted to talk to Mike anyway.”
“You did?” asked Mike.
Will nodded and slid into the booth. “Yeah.”
Mike sat across from him and less than a minute later, a waitress came to take their order.
Mike glanced at the menu. “I’ll have… uh, waffles.”
Will nodded. “Me too. And orange juice.”
The waitress nodded, stared at Mike for a second, then wrote their orders down and walked away.
After she left, Mike turned to Will. “Why was she looking at me like that?”
Will laughed. “You look like you crawled out of a bush, without the leaves. You’re also wearing three sweatshirts and a hat that’s too big for your head.”
Mike took his hat off. “You could have told me if I looked stupid.”
“You don’t look stupid!” Will exclaimed. “Just, uh, a little weird.”
Mike snorted. “Uh… thanks.”
They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Will was drawing something in a sketchbook he’d brought. After maybe ten minutes, the waitress returned with two plates of waffles.
“Really fast service here,” Will said, sounding surprised.
Mike took a bite. “These are good.”
“Yeah,” Will agreed, setting his sketchbook off to the side.
“El would like these,” Mike said around a mouthful of waffle.
Will made a quiet, huffy sound.
Mike looked up from his waffle. “What was that?”
“What?” Will asked, giving him a weird look.
Mike pointed at him. “You— you made a noise.”
“No I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did,” Mike argued. “You laughed at me!”
“I wasn’t laughing at you!” Will protested.
Mike knew this argument was stupid, but it felt like admitting defeat to stop arguing. “Then why did you make that noise?”
Will sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t— I just— You talk about El a lot.”
Mike frowned. “No I don’t. No one else has ever said anything about it. I barely ever talk about her when she’s not around.”
“Well, maybe you only do it around me.”
“Why would I do that?” asked Mike. “It doesn’t make any sense.” He glanced down at Will’s hands, then looked away quickly. This is so stupid. They’re just hands. Everyone has hands.
Why do I want to hold his hand?
I have a girlfriend.
“Yeah,” Will said, and Mike was startled until he realized Will was responding to Mike’s earlier It makes no sensecomment.
They both went back to eating their waffles. This time, the silence was awkward, and both of them knew it. Mike was determinedly looking everywhere but at Will.
Eventually, Will broke the silence. “I— Uh, I wanted to ask you if something’s wrong.”
Mike turned to look at him so fast his neck cracked. “Ow. What? Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.”
A slight crease formed between Will’s brows. “Are you sure? You’re just— you’re different lately, and you don’t seem okay.” His voice seemed slightly shakier than usual, but that might have just been Mike’s imagination.
Mike exhaled in annoyance and looked away again. “I’m fine, Will. It’s none of your business.”
“I… It’s…” Will seemed flustered. “Well. You’re… you’re my best friend, Mike.”
Mike shrugged. “Yeah.”
Will’s voice shook even worse now. “I guess… if you don’t want me around… I can go.”
Mike looked at him again, confused. “Wait, what? Of course I want you around.” He leaned over the table towards Will. “Why would you think I don’t want you around?” Maybe I want you around too much.
Will shrugged and didn’t meet his eyes, fiddling with the zipper of his jacket instead. “Well, you’re always busy with homework or crawl prep. When we do hang out, it’s usually as a big group, and whenever we’re alone, you’re always talking about El. My family has been living in your house for the last ten months and we’ve barely spent any time together!”
Mike shrank back a little at that. He really had no excuse for not spending time with Will, except for the whole Vecna-is-stalking-me thing, which he’d almost managed to forget about this morning. “I’ve just been… dealing with some stuff.”
“Like… Vecna stuff?” Will asked.
“No,” Mike said, too quickly.
Will’s hazel eyes narrowed. “Mike…”
Mike glared at him. “No, stop with that voice. I’m fine, Will.”
“Mike, if you’re getting… If you’re having Vecna dreams, that’s not…” Will sighed. “That’s not okay. You know what happened to Max. She’s still… y’know. I don’t want that to happen to you.”
“It’s not Vecna,” Mike protested, but there wasn't much fight in his voice.
“Sure,” Will said, leaning back. “Just eat your waffles, and then we’ll go. I have somewhere else I want to go.”
“Oh, I’ll eat these waffles,” Mike muttered. “I’ll eat them.”
“Are we at the Squawk?” Mike asked as they pulled up next to the radio station.
“Yeah, I’m confused, too,” Steve said, looking at Mike and Will in the backseat. “Byers, what are we doing here?”
“Get out,” Will said to Steve.
“Excuse me?”
“Out of the car,” Will said, unbuckling his own seatbelt. Mike moved to take his off, but Will shook his head. “Not you.”
Mike huffed but stayed in the car.
“Lock the door,” Will told Steve.
(Note: don’t worry, the windows are rolled down, Mike will be fine)
“What?” Steve and Mike both demanded.
“You do understand this is actually kidnapping by now, right?” Mike asked as Steve locked the door.
“Yes, but this is necessary,” Will said.
“Is it?”
“Yes, Michael.” Will sighed like Mike was the one being weird here.
“You locked me in a car!” Mike shouted.
Steve raised his eyebrows at them and walked towards the Squawk, muttering something like, “I can’t deal with these two anymore”.
“You’ll be fine,” Will assured Mike, patting his hand gently. “I’ll bring you water if you want some.”
“What if you let me out?” Mike asked. “Then I can get my own water.”
“No.”
Mike groaned. Loudly.
Will snorted. “I’ll unlock the door if you tell me what’s wrong.”
“So this is your brilliant plan?” Mike asked wryly. “Lock me in a car until I agree to talk about my feelings?”
Will considered that for a moment. “Mm… Yeah. That about sums it up, actually.”
“Well, I’m fine, so open the door.”
Will leaned against the side of the car and hummed some annoying song that Holly had probably been playing near him. Will was like a musical sponge. If anyone played a song near him, it’d get stuck in his head. Forever. “Mike, did you sleep last night?”
“I— Yes,” Mike said, defensively.
“I heard you screaming,” Will said. “Me and Jonathan and Mom just got home and I said good night to your mom and then you started screaming upstairs.”
Mike felt heat rush to his face. “That wasn’t— I just had a nightmare.” A Vecna nightmare about you, but that’s not the point.
“Mike, you don’t just fall asleep on the bathroom floor,” Will pointed out. “You've never done that. I remember one time we had a sleepover at Lucas’s house and you slept in his bathtub, but that's different.” He sighed. “And later I went upstairs to check on you, but I heard you playing that song you like.”
“People can play music at night,” Mike muttered, looking away.
“At midnight?” Will asked skeptically.
Mike slid across the backseat so he was farther away from Will.
“You’re deflecting!” Will called.
Mike didn’t answer. So maybe he was deflecting, but it was none of Will’s business. Well, Will had been his best friend since… a long time ago, but that wasn’t relevant.
Okay, maybe it was relevant.
Maybe Mike desperately wanted it to be Will’s business.
Maybe he wanted to just open up and tell Will everything.
But doing that felt like letting Vecna win. It felt like admitting that Mike had let something so stupid get to him.
Something as stupid as the way Will laughed when Mike told a joke, and how Mike never looked at El the ways guys were supposed to look at girls they liked and Mike knew it and El knew it and can everyone tell that he’s—
Mike screamed. Not words. Just a really loud noise that he felt like he needed to make.
Will jumped. “Mike! Jeez, are you okay?”
After about forty seconds of screaming, Mike stopped. “I’m… tired,” he muttered. “And I… did… have a weird dream about— about Vecna. I might have just been… imagining it, or something, but it really… it really freaked me out, man.”
Will looked like someone had given him a whole box of art supplies. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Mike gave him a look. “Will you let me out of the car if I say yes?”
“Yeah.”
“Fine, I’ll talk about it,” Mike groaned.
Will laughed a little and unlocked the door.
“This is so dumb,” Mike muttered as Will helped him out of the car. “I can’t believe I’m being held hostage by my best friend.”
“I am not holding you hostage,” Will corrected. “I’m gently persuading you to have a talk about your feelings.”
“I don’t have feelings,” Mike scoffed.
“Yes, you do.”
“Yeah, I do.”
The roof of the Squawk was Mike’s favorite place to talk. It was so… peaceful. No one to bother him, no interruptions, not unless someone was in a really bad mood, which actually happened pretty often these days, but that was beside the point.
The sun was still rising over the horizon, pale stripes of pink and orange light painting the field in early-morning color.
“Nice view,” Will commented, yawning and stretching. “I see why you like it up here.”
Mike nodded. “Yeah.”
Will sat down next to Mike, maybe a little closer than necessary, and Mike shifted slightly so he wasn’t looking at Will. Not because of anything weird, no. It was just that Will’s eyes were very… distracting. Not in, like… a weird way. Just… any person with eyes could tell that Will had, uh… very good… eyes. Yes.
Very normal thoughts. Not at all… Well. Whatever.
“So,” Will said after a while.
“…yeah,” Mike said.
There was another awkward minute of silence.
“I hate starting conversations,” Mike admitted, breaking the quiet. “I mean, maybe that doesn’t surprise you, but—”
Will laughed a little. “No, it doesn’t surprise me. You have the emotional awareness of a brick, Mike.”
Mike flushed pink and glared at the sunset. “I don’t—”
“You haven't said anything about your feelings that isn’t ‘fine’ or ‘tired’ in the last six months,” Will pointed out, giving Mike a jab with his elbow. “But… I mean, I’m probably not much better. I’ve almost been killed, what, probably a million times by now, and I still haven’t— Actually, never mind.”
“No,” Mike protested, finally turning to look at Will, who was shifting awkwardly. “You’re not allowed to do that! What is it?”
“It’s— it’s nothing,” Will said quickly. “Anyway, we’re here to talk about your feelings, not mine.” Mike groaned. Will plowed ahead anyway. “You said something about… y’know, him?”
Mike rolled his eyes. “You can say his name, Will. I don’t think you, I dunno, summon him like the goblins in Labyrinthif you say a certain phrase.” He paused for a moment, then shrugged. “I mean, actually, I have no idea. And ‘Vecna’ isn’t even his real name, right? Did they ever tell him that we’re calling him Vecna?”
(They = the guys who were actually in Hawkins during season 4. They told Mike, Will, Jonathan, and El what happened, I assume)
Will thought about that for a second. “Actually… I don’t think they did.”
Mike snorted. “Did they just… what, show up with a ton of guns and start chucking molotov cocktails at him, screaming ‘Vecna’?”
Will laughed at that, but then hid expression shifted to something darker. “You were trying to distract me again,” he said, leaning closer to Mike. “Stop that.”
“Fine,” Mike said, covering his face with a hand. “I had a dream about Vecna last night.”
“What kind of Vecna dream?” When he was nervous, Will’s voice went down by an octave.
Why do I know these things? Mike asked himself. He really didn’t have a good answer for that.
“What do you mean ‘what kind’?” Mike asked Will. “There’s only one kind. The Vecna kind.”
Will shrugged. “Like… You know. Is it rooted in guilt from your recent past or distant past? If you stop thinking it’s your fault, will he lose control over you? Or is it something you definitely did? Because… that might be… harder to… figure out.”
“Well,” Mike started, then broke off. After a second, he started again with, “Remember the— That’s stupid, of course you remember the first demogorgan. I’m not— I know it’s… I know there’s nothing I could have done, not really, I mean, if I’d… biked you to your house or… whatever, it would have gotten both of us, and it’s not like I knew what happened until El sort of… found you.” His eyes started to sting and he squeezed them shut. Do not cry in front of Will. “And… and I know it’s irrational, but it’s… it feels like… like it’s somehow—my fault.” His voice cracked and tears started leaking from the corners of his eyes.
“Hey— hey, it’s okay,” Will said, awkwardly patting Mike’s hand. “It… It really wasn’t your fault, Mike. And it would be… so stupid if I blamed you for that.” He laughed a little, but it was sad. “God, we were what, twelve? Twelve-year-olds killing monsters should be the exception, not the norm.”
“I… Well, I guess it is stupid,” Mike admitted. “But sometimes I still wonder what would’ve happened if I’d gotten taken instead of you.”
“Don’t say that,” Will said. “I don’t want to think about you in the Upside-Down. You’d be so scared and alone and then the demo would get you.”
“I could fight it,” Mike protested.
“You don’t know how to use a gun, do you?”
“Yes, I do!”
Will raised his eyebrows. “When you were twelve?”
“Well… no,” Mike said with a sigh.
Will nodded wisely. “See? There’s no reason for you to feel guilty.”
“Well… That’s not all of it,” Mike said, then immediately regretted saying.
“It— it’s not?” Will asked. “Go on, then.”
Mike felt his face heat up. “I mean… it’s not like… Well, maybe it is, but not in a— Ugh, why am I like this?”
“H-hey, it’s okay,” Will assured him. “Take your time.”
Mike exhaled deeply. “So lately I’ve been… thinking—”
“Mm. Dangerous.”
“Will.”
“Sorry, Mike.”
“I spent a lot of time thinking about… stuff last night,” Mike said. “Stuff like… the people who are really important to me. And there are… there are the obvious ones, you know, like Nancy and Holly and my mom. And there’s Dustin and Lucas, and Max, and El, of course…” He trailed off, staring into the sunrise.
After a minute of this, Will elbowed him. “Don’t stop.”
Mike nodded. “Uh… I was saying… Nancy and El and… Yeah. Then I was just— I sort of… figured this… this thing out. And I guess I’ve really… like, I knew for a… long time… but… God, I sound so dumb.”
He laughed a little, and ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, I’m dating El, and I’m happy being her boyfriend, right? But… am I? I mean, I thought I’m happy, but El’s the only girlfriend I’ve ever had, and I’m the only boyfriend she’s ever had, and neither of us really know… what it is we’re doing.”
“What do you mean?” Will asked, leaning forward.
Mike shrugged. “I guess… I’m saying that I… I don’t really know if I’m dating her because I really like her that way, or because I… I mean, I’m supposed to want to date her, right? Don’t answer that; I’m still talking. But… I don’t really… And lately it’s been like… I just—”
“Mike?”
Mike turned to Will, face bright red. “I— I really like you!” he blurted. “And I don’t know what that means, and if you think it’s weird I can just—”
Oh my god, what if he hates me? What if I’ve just ruined everything? What if I’m too weord and this is—
Will carefully took one of Mike’s hands and squeezed it. “Mike,” he said calmly. “You are a complete idiot.” Then he blushed a little, too. “Also, I kind of like you too.”
“What?” Mike asked, a little caught off-guard.
“Oh my god,” Will groaned. “You didn’t even notice. I— I made you a painting and we had that whole talk in the back of the van and you’re just— god, Mike, you’re so dumb.”
“Oh,” Mike said faintly. “Yeah. You’re right. I am an idiot.”
Will grinned. “No, I’m sorry. That was… I shouldn’t make fun of you.”
“No, it’s— it’s fine,” Mike said quickly. “I’m just… At least you don’t… I dunno… hate me, or whatever.”
“I wouldn’t hate you over something like this,” Will said, resting his head on Mike’s shoulder. “Even if I didn’t like you back, I’d have to be a terrible person to hate you for liking me. Or… really homophobic. Which… I am not. If you couldn’t tell.”
“I can tell,” Mike said, grinning. He took Will’s hand and squeezed it. “This is… it’s nice.”
“Yeah,” Will agreed. “I’m glad I’m not… not stuck in the Upside-Down anymore.”
“That’s the only reason?” Mike asked skeptically. “It has nothing to do with the horrifying monsters that connected you to their hive mind and also tried to eat you?”
“Well… that too,” Will admitted. “But this is still a pretty good thing that I can’t do in the Upside-Down.”
“I’m glad,” Mike said. “That you aren’t stuck in the Upside Down, I mean. And that you’re holding my hand. This is… It’s very… Good. Yes.”
Will squeezed Mike’s hand. “Very good,” he repeated. “Yeah. I think so too.”
“Yeah.”
