Chapter Text
910 days. 2 and a half years. Months, hours and seconds since Will had lost his sister. The guilt sat deep in his chest, settled there like a bird nesting, the shadows and creases that made up Jane’s face slowly turned smooth in his mind. He couldn't let that happen.
That's how Will found himself in his art class working on his most recent portrait. College life was so different to how he imaged it. He used to think of bullying, lunches alone, salty tears lost to the bathroom floor and ESPECIALLY not him sharing a room with Mike. A fantasy that seemed so unlikely yet existed alongside the atoms that made up the world. Atoms that also made the upside down, Vecna, the Demogorgon's all lost along with el-
hitch
Wills breath caught in his throat as if it got swept away along with his thoughts, his eyes shot down to his palette. Oh – would you look at that. He was out of that chocolate brown he was using for Jane’s hair. With a small sigh he placed his paint brush down and stood up with a small tremble. Brown paint, that was all he needed. He could manage that.
Whilst walking his mind flickered to what he was grateful for, a habit he picked up during the years of his childhood lost to that unforgiving, unforgettable place. He listed them off in his head, Mike, Max, his friends from art class. All of which he believed were so far out of reach before starting college. He was still slightly out of his comfort zone, he struggled asking for help and could rarely stop himself from worrying about the split in the group - Dustin, unsurprisingly, landed a place in MIT and Lucas stayed in Hawkins whilst Max ended up in the same place as him and Mike. Lenora had divided the group once and he fretted the idea of college doing the same, but since settling in he had found the reality was much different to his usually wild imagination. Although Mike had been acting strange as of lately-
There in the tray, the brown paint was nowhere to be found. Peachy. Just peachy. Rocking back and forth on his heels Will contemplated his options, asking his teacher was out of the question – he didn't want to be a nuisance – maybe he could leave early, or go to the store? What to do, what to-
“Will, is there something you need?” a soft voice called out.
“Sorry, um I've sorta run out of brown paint, and there doesn't seem to be any left in the usual tray.” Will explains, eyes darting around the room, unable to look at his teacher.
“No problem. Why don’t you go and look in the scrap boxes next to the paper draws?” She pauses, “And don’t be afraid to ask me next time, ok?”
Will just nods and shifts his gaze to the overflowing boxes of paper and fabric, in any other class it would look like a bomb had gone off, and then a Demogorgon proceeded to shred the rest of it but here in the art room it looked right at home. He shuffled over before crouching down starting off with the bottom draw.
No, no and oh! Nope.
Will played this game for another minute before giving up and lifting his hands to the next draw.
Second times a charm. Or was it third times a charm? Second times- third times- oh whatever! Focus Will!
Aha! It is second times a charm! There, right in his eyeline was the paint he needed! Reaching for it his hand faltered, a glimmer catching his eye. The air seemed to still, gravity felt like it had slowed down. Goosebumps appeared at the back of Will’s neck but not out of fear, no. Out of curiosity. Shifting bits of paper out of the way, the object crystallised in his line of sight, the cold weight of it pressed down into Wills pale hands as he inspected it. A strange diamond shape with an almost blinding yellow jewel encrusted in the middle and two hands encapsulating the bottom stared back at him.
A soft whisper tickled his ear.
Take it
“What the fuck-”
“Will? Is everything ok over there?” the teacher asked, concern etched throughout her features.
Yes! Sorry- just hit my head!” Will chuckled nervously, hoping he was a lot more convincing than he sounded.
Once again hazel eyes landed on the bizarre object. It was neither heavy nor light, and the lingering essence of it just begging for him to grab it and leave.
Maybe if he did it quickly, he could- no!
You can't keep doing this Will, monsters, magic, the impossible needs to stay impossible! What good are you in the world if you're dead?
Restraining himself from one last glance, Will hoisted himself off the ground and awkwardly slumped back to his seat to continue his painting and as the minutes of the lesson ticked away he couldn't help but cast small glances at the token that tugged at the back of his mind.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Ok guys, that’s it for today's class! I’ll see you next week! Oh Will, would you mind staying for a minute?”
Will believed he had a knack for reading people's emotions. After walking on eggshells for a lot of his childhood, reading his father's moods and how they affected his mum or Jonathan it wasn't hard for him to notice the teacher's slight crease in her forehead, or the subtle concern that lingered on her face. With a small gulp Will nodded before he zipped up his bag and made his way over.
“Hey what's up?” Will questioned.
“I just wanted to check up on you, I've noticed that you have been a little more withdrawn since the winter break.” she said, her voice as gentle as the rain in February.
“Oh, i guess I'm just tired. No worries!”
“Are you sure? How’s your roommate? I know you mentioned that he was acting a bit off?”
“Oh yea- yea we’re good, he’s a little out of it still but I'm sure it will fix itself. I guess, I'm just struggling with the portrait.” Wills gaze falls back to his painting, and his eyes soften just a fraction before tightening once again.
The teachers voice lowers slightly, “Want to talk about her?” the words thawed Will’s cold guilt by an inch.
She was my sister. As radiant as the sunshine, with a laugh that could burrow its way down into your chest and would leave you feeling warmer than any jumper could. Her smile- God it was a sight to see her smile, a national treasure that you don't realise you'll miss until its gone. Her confusion at the world never stopped her from wanting to understand, and if you ask me that's the quality he wished everyone had. Wished I had If only-
“Will?” Oh. I thought i had said that out loud.
“Sorry, I'll be on my way. Thanks, miss.”
Before she could utter another word, Will hurried out the door, escaping the admittance of what he misses and instead running to the boy he craves but can't have. The difference between Mike at the beginning of college to now was so astronomical and yet Will seemed to be the only one who noticed how his whole demeanour had changed. From gentle looks and soft eyes to total avoidance, moreover there was no way for him to confront the issue without Mikes defensiveness kicking in. So, with the weight of words unsaid heavy on his chest Will sluggishly made his way to the dorm. It’s not like he had anywhere else to go.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The shower head rattled with the pressure of lukewarm water and it landed right on Will’s rugged brown hair, washing himself with the lavender soap Mike had brought. Who knows where he got paint today? With his body completely soaked his stomach let out a violent rumble.
Goddamnit.
It had become a pattern of his to get engrossed in his art and completely forget that food was a human necessity to survive. He hadn't eaten since breakfast, you guess after going so long in a place devoid of basic sustenance followed by a form of possession where the host had no need for anything but death you get used to starving a little.
“He likes it cold.”
Ok! That was enough of the shower!
It didn’t take much time for him to dry off and get dressed into his off-yellow shirt and blue pyjama bottoms. Heading off to their bedroom where he left his phone to order pizza, he stopped short at the sight of a faced down Mike, head buried in the pillows seemingly amid a midlife crisis.
What the fuck. Do. I. Do. Uhhhhh. Uhm. Help?
Stood still, Will’s eyes scan the room for something, anything to help. Nothing. Literally nothing. Ever since Mike had started acting like- like this it felt like they couldn't speak to each other. Or at least how they used to. Almost like they feared one another. And that needed to end.
Surely an eternity later of awkwardly standing still and staring, his legs seem to remember they can move, carrying Will forward whilst his hand reaches for Mikes shoulder. At the moment of impact Mike flinches and shoots up from his bed, attempting to get up he instead eats shit, landing face down and ass up on the floor, almost knocking Will over in the process. A second later Will finds a red-faced boy stood right Infront of him, spluttering like a buffoon.
“Will! I-uh, didn’t hear you come out of the shower!” his eyes darting around the room, looking everywhere but at Will.
“Yeah.” Will stares, “Um, i was wondering if you wanted to order pizza tonight, I'm kind of tired and i don't really want to cook.”
“Pizza sounds great, Will. Thanks.” Mike says, still avoiding his friends face.
With a curt nod, Will reaches for his Mobira Cityman 900 and orders the pizza.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Once it arrived, Mike quickly headed to the kitchen to get two plates and returns to the bedroom grabbing his slices of pizza. The room fills with silence, and it becomes suffocating. Unlike their normal easy quietness, this is different. This is exactly why Will believes that something is wrong with Mike, normally he doesn’t shut up (not that Will was complaining about that) and always has something to talk about, his words filled any room with a sense of effortless comfort and now the environment just becomes tense without Mike’s words to change the atmosphere. Now, he’s staring at his pizza like it just killed his entire family. Good riddance Ted Wheeler.
The sight gets boring quickly, so Will with half of his pizza eaten moves to his desk instead and reunites with old, unfinished sketches. A few minutes later he notices Mike’s movements as he finally gets himself off the floor and plops down on his bed, choosing to lay on his side directly facing Will.
It’s been a while since Will had the time to just sit and draw for the fun of it, and really, he hates it. His coursework is so heavy, and he just cannot afford to get distracted. But when the opportunity ever so rarely presents itself, he seizes it with both hands and refuses to let it go. He’s in his element, and oh how he loves it. However, there are times when Mike’s presence takes his attention and he can't help but notice that he stares at him. No words, no gestures or comments on his work, he just... stares. Will had caught it enough times over the past few months that it had become a routine he was accustomed to. With the uncertainty whether it was unintentional and Mike’s gaze just happened to be in the direction of Will whilst he zones out, or if – just if – it was different. Silently, Will hopes it’s something different.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
Will’s eyelids slowly fluttered open; his ears violated by his alarm clock. The unwelcome sensation of paper stuck to his cheek, and the consistent beeping forced his hands to move from where they rested and end the abuse from the objects around him. As he finally took in his surroundings, it dawned on Will that yet again he had fallen asleep at his desk. Reaching his hands up to stretch a weight dropped off his shoulders and the cold harsh air hit his arms, leaving goosebumps. Looking down, he noticed a blanket lay on the floor from where it had dropped off his frame. A blanket? A blanket that he hadn't had whilst sketching so... Mike.
Maybe the old Mike was still there. Will just had to figure out how to find him.