Archive of Our Own

The rain-slick cobblestone has caused Mike to almost slip up countless times as he runs through the barely lit and labyrinth-like streets. It's pitch black outside too, which doesn't help. The flickering street lanterns don't even have the stars to help them. Mike won't get lost though, he's made the journey to Will's house more times than he can imagine, in all sorts of conditions, though not recently. Which is one of the reasons why he is going to Will's in the first place. This won't be Mike's first desperate attempt at an apology, but he's committed to not having to make another one for a while. Although he's been hyper aware of the distance between them for a while now, Mike hasn't been in a position to do anything about it until recently. It's been more than a year since he and Jane have broken up, but between training for, and helping Jane with, the upcoming Winter Ball, Mike has been using his lack of free time as an excuse not to address the miles between him and his best friend.

Mike knows that it's his fault, too. Court politics and familial expectations and the duties of the oldest son infected his brain like a flesh-eating parasite. Every night, as he closes his eyes, he sees the flashes of hurt on Will's face caused by thorny words Mike has never properly apologized for (because he's a self-pitying idiot). Until he gets to Will's, that is. And even though the wind is whipping his wet hair into his face and the cold has seeped into his bones, like the rainwater in his clothes, Mike knows that he won't turn back now. He owes Will this much, at least.

It's only this dark because it's winter, Mike reminds himself. Even though he'd sneaked out just moments after supper, the night had fallen fast and his mother would be more than upset if she found out he wasn't in his room. It's gotten so bad that a kingdom-wide curfew is likely to be introduced. Mike almost slips on a sodden poster. He doesn't have to look down to know what is on it. Posters with illustrations of evil dark wizards, warning the readers of the perils of magic have decorated every building and streetlight recently. There's so many that the rain has turned them into mush that replicates the piles of mud that line the streets at this time of year.

Ever since Will had been found, disappearances in Hawkinshire have only increased. The only person who has been found apart from Will, is Chrissy, whose mutilated body had been found in the woods, torn up by some sort of animal. With Will as the only survivor, and zero leads, all suspicions have been cast towards him. With the rise in harsh whispers and pointed stares that seem to follow Will more and more everyday, Mike knows that Will needs him more than ever.

As one of the few in the kingdom blessed with magic, Will was a target from the start. Will has always seemed to glow golden, so hiding his magic was never possible. Over the years, his halo became a target. But Mike knows better than the townsfolk, who just want a scapegoat. The few times Mike has brought up Will's name has caused his mother to pull Holly closer, an action that stings like a burn. How dare you think that of him, how dare you.

As Mike walks further and further, the houses start being replaced by trees and the pathway is slowly consumed by weeds. He's almost there. The Byers' house sits on the outskirts of kingdom, far enough away that from a certain angle it looks like the only house for miles, but close enough to the local farm that employs both Jonathan and Mrs Byers. Every window is dark apart from the one on the far left, which is glowing softly as though it's lit by a singular candle. Will's room. After trudging through what seems like miles of slippery mud, Mike reaches Will's window. He taps it rhythmically, mimicking the secret knock that Will had used for Castle Byers.

"Mike?" Will whispers as he opens the window, his voice almost entirely kidnapped by the wind.

"Hey Will! I was hoping we could talk? It's been a while and I just wanted to say —"

"It's midnight. You should be asleep." Will says bluntly. His eye bags are so prominent they almost looks purple, especially against his paler-than-usual skin.

Mike knows he deserves that. However, he refuses to give up. He also doesn't point out that he isn't the only one awake at this hour.

"Please?"

Will sighs and glances behind him. Once the coast is considered clear, he opens the window fully to allow Mike to scramble through. It's clear that Will was drawing before Mike interrupted him, but he can't tell what. There are however, charcoal smudges all over Will's desk, and even on his bare arms that almost look like shadows painted by the flickering candlelight.

"So what did you want to talk about?" Will says. His words aren't accusatory, just… tired. Mike is very aware that he's dripping a puddle onto the floor.

"I'm sorry. I've been a bad friend lately and I want to hang out more with you. I don't care what anyone in this kingdom says, you're my best friend and I miss you. Being busy with my duties isn't an excuse anymore. I'm really, really sorry, Will." Mike makes sure to say his words slowly, but firmly, his eyes never straying from Will's face.

Will looks away, crossing his arms over his chest. "Honestly, Mike, it's fine so don't worry about it—"

"No. Don't say that. It's not fine. I'm sorry." Mike says frantically, reaching his hand over to Will's arm. Will jumps a bit at the contact, but Mike doesn't budge. There's a couple of seconds of silence where Will realizes that Mike is more than ready to apologize again.

"Well then, apology accepted. Not that you gave me any other choice." Will's smiling now, and is meeting Mike's eyes, which is definitely a win.

"You could've not accepted my apology," Mike challenges, only just now removing his hand from Will's arm.

"After you came all this way for me? In the rain?"

"It was the least I could do. I want to make it up to you."

"You already have," Will mumbles, though he still sounds sincere. Mike grins, but is quick to look away once he starts to feel his face flush. Anxious not to let the moment fade into awkwardness and eager to continue talking to Will, Mike ever so slightly changes the subject.

"When you said it was late earlier, you were right, you know. And it's really dark and really cold and really wet outside, and I think I'll get sick if I go out there…" Mike ever-so-subtly suggests, rocking back and forth on his heels now that he's stopped dripping. Will just rolls his eyes, understanding what he's getting at immediately and walks over to his dresser to give Mike some of his old sleep clothes that he had probably left there at some point or another. He changes into them quickly, noting how both the sleeves and the pants are about three inches too short. It smells like Will. That's the second thing he notices. Mike tries not to read into that too much.

After running his hand through his hair to try and squeeze as much water out as he can, he climbs into Will's bed, where Will has already tucked himself under the mossy green covers. He looks beautiful like this, Mike thinks. Not for the first time. Mike also thinks that he's been in love with Will for a while now. There wasn't a moment where something changed or shifted, it was just something that grew, like a flower that had finally bloomed. When he looked at Will, it felt so warm he could almost feel sunlight peaking through the night sky, like Will is using his healing magic on Mike all day every day. They had been friends for so long that the realization had been more of an acceptance, than a surprise. From the way his heart ached at the loss of Will from his side, to the way it jumped so loudly now they were lying next to each other that Mike worried that Will could hear it, he knew that there was no use in denying his feelings.

Breaking up with Jane had hurt (or getting broken up with, as it had been pretty mutual), despite it being the right thing to do and despite the weight it had lifted from his shoulders. It wasn't just the loss of a conventional, safe future that had scared him, but the grief that came with realizing that he had muddied what could have been an easy and normal friendship with Jane while hurting Will in the process still leaves him feeling unsteady.

Will's so far under the covers that the blanket is brushing the top of his chin, his hair puffing up like a mushroom. His hand is out in front of him on the pillow, leaving faint smudges underneath his fingertips. Artist's hands. Mirroring him, Mike puts his hand millimeters away, wondering if their hands will find each other in the night.

"I've got to wake up early tomorrow," Will says, softly.

"That's fine, me too. If I'm not already, wake me up and we can leave together."

Mike holds his pinky out and Will joins it with his. They don't let go.

"Good night, Will," Mike yawns.

"G'night Mike. See you in the morning," Will murmurs as his eyes are already closing.

As Will's bedroom fades around him, Mike, relishes the small point of contact with Will. He did it, their friendship is fixed. Not bothering to fight the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips, Mike lets himself drift off. He refuses entry to all the thoughts of his endless responsibilities as he wholly exists in this moment with Will. The night is cold and dark, but Mike can't think of anyway warmer and brighter than where he is now.

When Mike wakes up, it isn't the morning. The candle in the room is out and there's a draft coming through the window that lets the cold burrow its way into Mike's body, despite the pile of blankets that Will keeps on his bed. Blinking hard and rubbing his eyes, Mike tries to adjust to the dark. He doesn't know what's woken him up. He hopes it's just the cold. In his initial scan of the room, he can't proof of anything that could have woken him, so he decides to turn back to Will. Sometime in the night their pinkies had untangled. Now Will lies stiffly on his back, hands firmly on his sides with the covers only covering up to his midsection. He looks… uncomfortable. Will never likes to sleep on his back, even if it's supposedly the healthiest way to sleep as he says that he can't feel the pillow properly. When he was younger he's sleep in a fetal position, curled up so small that Joyce used to say he could still fit in her stomach.

"Will?" Mike whispers, not wanting to wake Jonathan and Mrs Byers up at who-knows-what o'clock. Will doesn't move. Well, that's not true. Once Mike looks closer, he notices Will's eyes rapidly darting back and forth underneath his eyelids. The shadows on his face look deeper and more pronounced, somehow, and his pale skin looks clammy. Sweat has darkened his hair, sticking it to his forehead, even though all of Mike's breaths visibly curl like smoke in front of him.

"Will!" Mike hisses, getting less and less worried about waking the rest of the house up. But Will doesn't respond. Tendrils of dread crawl up Mike's spine as warning sirens go off in his brain. Something is very, very wrong. Outside it's eerily silent, the only noise Mike can hear is his own panicked breathing and Will's rattling rasps. Terrified, Mike tries to shake Will awake, praying that it's just a nightmare. His body is rigid and cold, the only sign of life being the movement of his eyes and that he's still breathing. But Will still doesn't wake.

"Will!" he pleads, with increasing desperation. When shaking him again doesn't work, Mike reaches to cup Will's face, his thumb brushing Will's cheekbone softly, right underneath his oscillating eyes. Mike is about to climb out of the bed to alert Mrs Byers when Will jerks upright with a gasp, blinking heavily as though he's trying to squeeze out something stuck. When Will looks at Mike, who still has one foot on the floor, Mike is struck by the fear in his expression. Terror has taken over his features as Will tries to verbalize whatever just happened, but all he manages are heaving gulps of air and nonsensical words that sound more like pained animal noises.

Mike shuffles closer, hoping not to scare him further while asking, "Are you alright? Bad dream?" Even if he doesn't believe that a dream could cause what he just saw. But just as quickly as Will had jerked awake, the fear on his face evaporates, and is replaced with a stony expression. Will's eyes are glazed over, and when he looks at Mike it doesn't feel like he actually sees him, almost as though he is looking right through him.

"Go back to sleep," Will insists while tucking himself back into bed, this time facing away from Mike. His voice is strangely gravelly, echoing as though it wasn't said by just one voice.

"But Will — was that, I mean are you — do you need —" Mike splutters, tripping over his words.

"Go back to sleep. I mean it." Will says, more forcefully this time. "I'm alright," he adds quietly.

Mike doesn't quite believe him, but there's nothing he can do as exhaustion smothers him, leaving Mike to choke on his words without the energy to fight his drooping eyelids. This time he falls asleep rapidly and heavily, despite the unease that permeates all his final, dwindling thoughts.

When Mike wakes, in the morning this time, the only evidence that anything weird had happened the night before lies in Mike's fractured memories paired with Will's gaunt face and his refusal to meet Mike's stare. And so, against his better judgment, Mike drops it. It seems like a sensitive subject for Will and something that can be tackled at a time that isn't the crack of dawn, merely hours after they had just fixed the long, awkward, chasm in their friendship.

"Hey, um, thanks for letting me stay, and well — everything else," Mike says as he changes into yesterday's clothes, which are still too damp to be comfortable in. "I meant what I said, you know. I'm sorry. Our friendship means a lot to me and I don't want to go that long without properly hanging out again, you know?" At Will's silence, Mike continues, "So I was thinking that maybe we could hang out again this week? Dustin hasn't shut up about wanting to go to that new bakery that opened up last week. It would be fun to have a full Party hangout again, right? Or maybe we could go to the lake, just the two of us like we did when we were kids?"

"Yeah. Sounds fun," Will replies with a tired smile.

"Yeah?" Mike grins. "I mean which one do you mean — the bakery or the lake because either is good with me, or we could do both! Since we have so much catching up to do and while we haven't hung out with the rest of the Party in a while, it's been even longer since we've hung out, just us, but the lake is probably freezing now, right? And Dustin was telling me about how the bakery apparently has these multicolored cakes where every color is a new flavor, even though it's like a marble cake and —"

"Both are good."

"Of course, yeah. Both is good with me, uh, too." Mike says, face on fire, a heat that only gets worse as Will moves to go change his clothes. Before Will can even grab his clothes out of his closet, Mike is halfway out the window, and promising to see Will again that week.

Mike races through the forest, trying to make it to his lessons as quick as he can. As a paladin in training, sword fighting takes up a lot of his schooling. The lessons are usually with a class of other young men and tend to feature hours of charging at each other in heavy armor while their yelled at by Jason Carver. Mike sometimes wonders if he's desperate enough to ask Nancy to ask Steve to take the lessons instead, he probably wouldn't yell as much (at least not at Mike, since he knows Mike would report back to Nancy). Both Steve and Jason are in the Royal Guard, after all, and Steve has been there a few years longer.

Despite his passion, Mike knows his athleticism is not up to standard. His armor and sword are too big, leaving weird bruises, making every step monumentally difficult, and ensuring the session ends with Mike feeling cooked alive in his metal suit no matter the weather. Due to the cold, the joints will be stiff with frost and when he does manage to move, there is no way he'll be able to take someone by surprise.

But Mike loves it anyway. He loves creating a battle plan based off his opponents weaknesses, he loves the rush he gets after defending a teammate, and he loves the self assurance it gives him. It makes Mike feel as though he doesn't need to be saved, or looked after, and that he can be the protector that his loved ones need. With his sword, Mike is more than a lousy friend/boyfriend, or a storyteller whose tales don't breach the small circle of his only friends, if they even make it out of the paper he writes them on. With his sword, Mike can be a paladin.

However, he's not a paladin, yet. Which is quickly proven by the downswing of a longsword that he barely manages to avoid.

"Concentrate Wheeler," Jason calls from behind the fence. Troy, the owner of said longsword, smirks cruelly as he prepares to strike again. Stepping backwards, Mike's shaking hands grip his own sword a little tighter. He quickly assesses the situation. As planned, while half of his team occupy their opponent's strongest fighters, the other half are working on sneaking through the mass of flailing metal and limbs to reach the other side of the field where their opponents 'treasure' resides. The goal of this exercise being to capture it of course. Mike's current job is to be the decoy.

With Troy entirely concentrated on him, Mike is confident in the likely success of his plan. All he has to do is to keep parrying Troy, make a couple fake attempts at getting past him, and hope that the rest of his team carries our their tasks. Frost crunches beneath his feet while sweat drips off his nose, but Mike's mind is totally clear. This dance is difficult, but routine. Mike's blade whips in front of him, the momentum of the heavy blade only slightly throwing him off balance. Breathing heavily, Mike silently begs his aching arms to stay up. Fortunately, Troy isn't looking much better. He's stumbling slightly, occasionally letting his defenses slip in order to stay upright.

What Mike doesn't see until it's too late is James, who is standing far enough away that Mike didn't deem him to be an urgent issue. However, the long dark whip in his hands is something that had escaped his notice entirely. He was too focused on Troy. That, and whips are illegal in this exercise. It shouldn't be in the arena. Nonetheless, before Mike can even register the sharp crack that strikes the air, Mike's legs are violently ripped from underneath him, and he collapses on the ground, tangled in the black cord. It's only once they kick his sword away and pin his body to the ground, that Mike realizes what has happened. Immediately, he thrashes around like a fish, trying in vain to knock Troy off of him, or grab his sword, which managed to skid at least five feet away. The armored knee on his sternum feels like a boulder, and forcefully pushes the air from his lungs, leaving Mike to wheeze in protest.

"You… cheated," he struggles through labored breaths. Troy smirks and leans down, only leaving a couple inches between their faces and Mike wrinkles his face when the smell of Troy's putrid breath hits his nose. Mike tries to gather saliva in his mouth to show him that he can play dirty too. But all he tastes is blood, which bubbles over his lips in a sad attempt to spit into Troy's face. Mike focuses on breathing instead.

"What, just like your freak boyfriend cheated death? Who is he going to kill next, do you think? It'll probably be you once he realizes how pathetic you are," Troy sneers.

Mike grits his teeth so hard that he's worried they'll be ground to nubs. "It's not my fault that if you disappeared no one would ever look." Troy's face turns red as he reaches for a knife hidden in his boots while out of the corner of his eye Mike watches his team's 'treasure' get taken by James. Once Mike's team has lost, Jason calls for the end of the game. Troy returns the knife to his boot, making sure to kick Mike in the stomach when he gets up.

"You and that murderer freak better watch out. I don't think anyone would care if someone took care of him before the next person in this kingdom is killed," Troy hisses as he stomps away. Mike knows that there's no use in chasing after him. He'd tried, those first few months, to defend Will's honor until his face went blue and all he'd got was a split lip and a target on his back. No one ever changed their mind. They didn't see how Will will never do something like that, how good he is.

Scrambling to get up, Mike runs over to Jason, trying to ignore the pain in his back from the fall. He takes his helmet off and taps Jason on the shoulder, who is turned away from Mike and acting as though he didn't hear the heavy clunks of Mike's suit in his approach.

"That wasn't fair and you know it. Troy and James cheated! Everyone heard the whip that they used," Mike protests.

Jason sighs as he turns to Mike. His straw-like hair is greasy to the point where it's clumped together and his steely, bloodshot eyes stand out as the only color in his face apart from the days-old stubble on his chin.

"And so what if they did. Life's not fair anyway, and I've learned that the hard way. Not in some stupid sword fighting exercise," Jason says firmly.

Mike deflates, pressing his lips together before saying, "Look, I'm sorry, about what happened. It wasn't fair. But you said that carrying a sword is about honor and justice. Not dirty tricks and lies. You can't just change the rules like that and let them get away with this."

"I changed the rules? Look around you, the rules have already changed. I'm not here to teach you how to steal a fake treasure, I'm here to teach you how to defend our kingdom. And since honor and justice don't work, because if they did she — she would still be here, well sometimes you have to fight dirty." Jason's voice trembles as it rises. Too scared to interrupt him, Mike listens in silence as Jason continues. "Because whoever killed Chrissy, and everyone else who has disappeared and is probably dead too, hasn't showed any signs of stopping, no matter what we do. What will you do if they go after one of your sisters. Will you still refuse to fight dirty then?" Jason walks off before Mike can respond. He already knows Mike's answer.

It's late when Mike finally gets home for dinner. The combination of the time it took for Mike to complete his errands and his studies, as well as the time he spent avoiding his house, has means that Mike doesn't know if his food will still be warm. Fortunately, his mom is setting down steaming plates of meat and vegetables, smothered in rich gravy, as Mike walks through the door. His father, Nancy, and Holly are already at the table, but don't glance up when he arrives as they're too busy bickering about who gets to use the salt and pepper first (yes, his father included, as apparently Holly salts her food too heavily).

"Mike! Welcome home, I haven't seen you since yesterday," his mother says as she sits down, raising her eyebrows as though she's asking why exactly she hasn't seen him.

"Oh, I left early for training," Mike stutters in reply and avoids eye contact by looking down at his plate. He then starts to shovel the hot food into his mouth to avoid answering further questions, even though it starts to burn his tongue. When his eyes start to tear up, he chokes it down anyway. However, his mother isn't convinced.

"I thought we agreed no staying out after dark. It's too dangerous," she chides.

"Well what do you think I'm training for," Mike retorts. He sees Nancy rolling her eyes in his peripheral vision and elects to ignore her. Just because she's better at archery doesn't mean that she's more likely to win a fight than he is. "I'll be an adult in the spring, anyway," he adds.

His mother sighs. "I know I can't stop you, but please, stay away from the Byers' at night. Those woods aren't safe."

"I - I wasn't at the Byers'. How would you know that anyway," Mike says, taken aback.

"You are covered in mud, Mike. I don't want you bringing in mud, or anything else from that place, into the house." His mother then leans forward to whisper, "you might be able to protect yourself, but what about Holly? I don't wish any ill will on the Byers, they're a good family. But they live somewhere dangerous. And Will —"

"What about Will."

"— I'm so happy that he's back, but how? How is he back but not Frederick or Patrick or," his mother lowers her voice even further, "or Barbara. What if it's a sign. A sign that something isn't right."

Mike stabs his food with his fork and glares at his mother. "There's nothing wrong with Will."

"I didn't say that there was anything wrong. We're your family, your duty is here."

"What is the point of your training if you're not going to use it properly? Since you're an adult soon, you can pay for it like an adult too," Mike's father interjects, chewing with his mouth open.

Mike doesn't argue with that. His father knows he can't afford it, and if Mike is not a paladin, then who is he? The path set out for him, the one where he completes his training, attends the Winter Ball in three days so that he can join the court like the rest of the adult Wheelers, and then swears to forever protect the kingdom is the path he intends to take, the path he wants to take. But it was never the plan to follow that path without Will by his side.

After spending the rest of dinner forcing his mouth full of food as an excuse not to speak, Mike stands, puts his plate away, and runs to his room. The sooner he escapes dinner, the sooner he escapes his house. Once the house has settled down, Mike gets ready to make another escape. While he hadn't told Will that he intended to sneak over for the second night in a row, it's a little earlier than it was yesterday and Mike wants to see his best friend again. Before he can climb out his window, Mike hears a faint knock on his bedroom door.

"Mike? Are you awake?" Holly's voice calls from the other side of the wall. Mike closes his bedroom window and opens the door to his younger sister standing in from of him in her sleepwear.

"What's wrong, Holly?" Mike says, stooping down so he can look her in the eye. It doesn't look as though his sister has been crying, however, she's tugging anxiously at her pigtails as her eyes dark around the dark hallway.

"I can't sleep. Could you tell me about Holly the Heroic, please?"

Mike sighs, knowing that if he agrees then he won't be able to see Will tonight. He thinks about what Jason said, about what would happen if something happened to Holly. Then, Mike thinks about Will. He thinks about the bone deep chill, the way Will's eyes moved and how Will jerked awake and just told Mike to go back to sleep. Mike follows Holly into her room where she moves to the furthest side of her bed and pats the spot next to her. After they have both settled in, Mike begins to tell Holly a story.

"Once upon a time, there lived the bravest girl in all the lands, Holly the Heroic. Even before she earned the name Heroic, she was loved throughout the kingdom for her kindness and strength. When the kingdom was about to be overcome by darkness, Holly the Heroic used her magic to help those who needed her most by opening dimension doors to help the scared townspeople escape. Hundreds of people were able to leave the battle zone unharmed due to her ability to ward off evil spirits and they were forever grateful for how she saved the day." As Mike narrates the great adventures of Holly the Heroic, his sister stares at him, wide-eyed with wonder.

"Do you really think I could be like her?" Holly asks, her voice small.

"You are her, Holly. I mean, you do share a name for a reason."

"But I'm scared. All the time. What if what happens to Chrissy," Holly pauses and then whispers, "happens to me."

Those words act like a stake that drives straight into his chest. He doesn't know what he would do if Holly was hurt. Sometimes he envies the people who are scared of Will, at least they have someone to avoid to feel safe. Whatever has infested his kingdom, Mike doesn't know where it has come from, or what it wants, or how to stop it. Whatever lies beneath the weathered cobblestone of Hawkinshire could appear at any time and take Holly. Take Will like Mike suspects it did before. Will had never been able to describe the events of that night and the following week) in enough detail to find his attacker, in this world at least.

"Being scared is a part of being a hero, I would know. Mike the Brave is scared all the time, that's how he gets his name. But nothing will happen to you, I won't let it," Mike asserts, brushing Holly's hair out of her face where it's fallen out of her pigtails.

"You promise?"

"I'll swear it when I take my oath."

"Mike, are you even paying attention?" Jane snaps, glaring at Mike. Her attempt at a death glare is not quite successful due to the three books that fall off her head with a thump when she whips her head around to face him.

"Yes! Yes, sorry," Mike stutters as he picks up the books from the floor to give back to Jane, wincing sheepishly. He had not been paying attention. His mind had been drifting off to the plans he and Will had made earlier that day to go visit the the lake as Mike had promised.

When Mike had volunteered to help Jane to prepare for the Winter Ball, he thought it would feel like doing a friend a favor. They had recently broken up, and Mike, desperate to make sure their friendship survived the awkwardness that comes with establishing that Maybe We Should Spend Less Time Together, Actually, had easily offered to teach her all about how to assimilate into the court. Usually, the daughter of the head of the Royal Guard would be automatically be initiated into the court, but since she is the adopted daughter, it is not so simple.

After much begging (not that Hopper would call it that), the Elders had let Jane be a part of this year's Winter Ball. For noble-born like himself and Lucas, it was more like a formality, but for Jane, the Elders had not-so-subtly let her know that if she underperformed, then she would not be allowed to live with Hopper. Mike doesn't know why she would work so hard to be able to live in a damp cabin with Hopper of all people, but he supposes anything is better than a blanket fort in his basement (as well as the part where Hopper is her father, blood-related or not). Mike had watched Nancy prepare for the Winter Ball a few years ago when she was seventeen, and so he figured that it couldn't be that hard. But his teaching skills probably need a little help…

The most important part of the Winter Ball was the dance. While Jane had mastered the steps for the waltz before even Mike had, the trouble had come when she had to practice with the heels that she had been given. Every other step was a stumble and when she fell while also wearing her baby blue tulle dress, it looked like an explosion of glitter.

However, what Jane was most worried about was the interview, and since the Winter Ball was tomorrow, she was trying to tackle both issues at once. Mock interview questions (with Mike pretending to be the one interviewing her), while she walked up and down the corridor of the library with books balanced on her head. Books that had fallen more times than she had answered questions, but lay on her head once more.

"So, um, where were we again?" Mike asks.

"You are supposed to ask me about my hobbies," Jane replies, only a little impatiently.

"Yes, of course," Mike says. He deepens his voice in a poor imitation of what the Elder who does the interviews sounds like. "What would you say your hobbies are, Jane?"

Jane giggles for a couple seconds before schooling her face and adjusting the books on her head.

"I like baking and sewing and reading."

Those are also works in progress. Being raised as an experiment up until age twelve in a dark wizard's mansion did not leave a lot of time for hobbies. Baking, sewing, and reading were the hobbies most likely to please the Elders, Mike had figured. In actuality, Jane prefers eating over cooking, and has gotten intensely into puppetry, which admittedly did constitute some amount of sewing. The only books that Jane has read of her own volition (that weren't on puppetry), was a series about undercover sheriffs fighting crime and corruption.

"What have you baked recently?" Mike asks, scaling back his Elder Voice so that he doesn't distract her.

"I made a —" Jane stumbles a little, but corrects herself quickly, "— berry sponge cake yesterday."

"And you didn't save me any?"

"Hopper and Max got there quicker."

Before Mike can think of another question, he hears quiet snickers coming from behind him. It doesn't matter if he turns around or not, he already knows who they are, but Jane catches Mike rolling his eyes and looks over his shoulder, spotting Angela and her cronies almost immediately. While both Mike and Jane try to ignore them, it's hard to block out the mocking giggles that increase in volume from behind them. From the corner of his eye, Mike can see Jane's face scrunch as the struggles to fight back tears. He turns around to maybe say something, but he's just in time to see Angela mimicking Jane in heels, clownishly pretending to trip over her own feet while her two friends laugh so hard they are practically falling over themselves. Once Angela has noticed them watching, she stands up and walks past them, making sure to whisper shout "freak" as she passes them.

However, just as Angela is about to exit the corridor, a couple of books somehow manage to fling themselves off of their shelves onto her head. Which does actually knock her over. Embarrassed, Angela gets up quickly and marches out of the room, huffing and clenching her fists. Mike turns to Jane, who is hiding her hands behind her back. Hands, that Mike knows are now covered in shimmery gray-green scales (which now poke out the collar of her dress), her nails replaced with dark talons. It had scared him slightly, the first time Jane used her powers, especially when it had covered her whole body in scales and had turned her eyes red, but twelve-year-old Mike's fear had been easily overrun with wonder. He's filled with awe every time she transforms. But…

"Jane, be careful! They could see," Mike hisses. Jane closes her eyes and breathes deeply, and within a couple of seconds, the scales are gone. There is already talk of a monster within Hawkinshire, if someone saw Jane covered in scales, she would never see the sun again, let alone Hopper's cabin. She starts walking up and down the corridor with the books on her head once again.

"Now ask me about my favorite book."

By the time Mike has arrived at the outskirts of the woods where he promised to meet Will, the sun is slowly nearing towards the horizon, painting the sky with golden brushstrokes. Mike hasn't been waiting long, but each minute feels like an hour as the anticipation eats at him slowly. He's starting to feel as though he gets why his mother wants him back before dark. The wind whistles in the trees behind him and the cold is biting at his arms through his tunic. Every so often the crack of a twig will startle Mike enough for him to whip his body around to locate what made the sound, hoping that it's Will and praying that it's not something else. After what could be two more minutes or two more hours, Mike spots Will's silhouette form from the shadows of the trees.

"Will!" Mike gasps, running up to meet him. Once they're about a foot away from each other, Mike stops awkwardly, not sure what to do with his hands. Will doesn't seem sure either. He feels as though he hasn't seen Will in years when it's really been more like a couple days. Just like the last time they had seen each other, Will's eye bags are dark and pronounced and his skin is pale. It's because its the winter, Mike tells himself. Mike is obviously just mourning Will's summer tan. The Byers' house has creaky floors and windows, so in windy nights like tonight, it must be keeping Will up. Obviously. Mike doesn't want to think about the alternative. Will still looks beautiful, though. His eyes, though tired, light up when they meet Mike's.

"Hello Mike," Will says, smiling.

" So… do you want to go to the lake?"

"Isn't that what we're here for?" Will smirks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah! Yeah, of course, I just wanted to check in case you changed your mind or something. I mean it's cold… so…" Mike stutters.

"I don't mind the cold so much," Will shrugs.

That's weird. Will hates the cold, or at least he used to. Maybe that had changed since the last time they had properly hung out. It doesn't seem as though Will is lying, while his beige tunic is long-sleeved, he's not wearing his multi-colored scarf like he usually does in the winter. Mike doesn't want to ask and make it apparent that maybe they don't know each other like they used to. So he decides to leave it (though not forget it), like he did with that weird dream Will had.

The conversation is somewhat stilted as they make their way to the lake. It's a short walk, but the sky is noticeably getting darker by the minute, which is made more apparent by the couple times Mike slips on the frost beneath his feet that he doesn't see. But while the frost hardens beneath their feet, the mood slowly warms as conversation gets easier. Will tells Mike about some new paints he made from plant scraps Jonathan and Joyce brought from the farm, whereas Mike tells Will about how he can tell Nancy is getting cabin fever from visiting home for the winter holidays. She's not used to not being allowed to eat or leave whenever she wants. Mike finds that annoying too, but instead of snapping at people like Nancy, he just sneaks out (like he did tonight). They're in the middle of laughing about how Dustin had accidentally fried his eyebrows off last week through experimenting with potions when they reach the lake. Despite the cold weather, the lake isn't frozen over. Ice creeps along the edge but looks to be as thin as parchment.

"You know, I think that the petals Jonathan gave me for my paint are part of a bouquet that he's making for Nancy," Will theorizes, grinning.

"Oh? What makes you say that?" Jonathan had always been Mike's favorite out of all of Nancy's partners. Mike doesn't choke on the residuals from the hair products Jonathan owns when he used the bathroom after him (unlike he had when Steve used to come over).

"He gives me more petals for my paint than he used to. Before, I got mostly leaves and fruit, but now I'm getting petals too, all in the same sort of colors. Lots of pink."

"Her favorite color," Mike says, starting to put together why Nancy's as irritated as she is. Maybe she's been sneaking out more than Mike thought. At least if Nancy catches him, she won't be able to tell their mother without Mike exposing her too.

"And Hopper came over with a slice of berry sponge cake for my mother earlier. It looked homemade," Will says, hugging his knees to his chest and looking over the lake wistfully.

"Well that's because Hopper didn't make it, Jane did."

Will laughs. "That explains it. I had a bite and it was pretty good."

"You got a bite and I didn't? I'm starting to get offended now," Mike complains, throwing his hands in the air in mock anger.

"How are you and Jane anyway," Will asks. "I know you two broke up, but I never asked about it. Sorry."

"Will, you know you don't need to apologize, right? I was the one who made it awkward. I shouldn't have said that, about you not liking girls. I mean it's pretty ironic, considering that Jane and I broke up because we realized that we didn't like each other like that," Mike admits, blushing.

There's a couple of seconds of silence as Will looks at Mike like he's trying to find something on his face. Mike almost asks if he left some of his lunch on his mouth.

"I'm — I'm sorry to hear that," Will finally says.

"Don't be. When I couldn't tell her that I loved her and mean it the way she wanted it to mean, I realized that every time we tried to do something romantic, it just felt forced. I started wondering why we were forcing it, since she didn't seem all that enthused either. Don't get me wrong, it was fun when we were children. But that's all it was. Playing pretend at being the adults we thought we should be. That we thought we were expected to be."

Will nods encouragingly, which makes Mike a little embarrassed. He's never really said this out loud. Sure, he and Jane talked about it a bit, but that was when they were breaking up with each other.

Mike feels brave enough to ask Will a question. "Have you ever been in love?"

It takes a while for Will to answer. He seems to be considering something before he answers.

"Yes," he replies, looking Mike in the eyes. But Mike doesn't feel brave enough to ask any more. Instead, his face gets so red he feels as though it'll start steaming in the frosty air. While he doesn't say anything else, Mike does scoot closer to Will, pressing their arms together.

It's pitch black by the time they stand up to leave, Mike's mother definitely knows that he's gone. Despite the dark and the cold, Mike knows that he could stay here forever, it was only when he'd brushed up against Will's hand and he felt how cold it was that he realized that they needed to leave.

But before they can start heading back, before Mike even finishes standing up, his leg skids on some ice and knocks him off balance, sending him face first into the ground.

"Ow," Mike hisses. A rock has sliced through his skin, sending shooting pains though his left hand. Crimson blood spills down his wrist and splatters on the ground. At least he assumes it does, Mike can't see much in the pale light of the cloud-covered moon.

"Mike! Are you alright? Here, give me your hand," Will cries, rushing over to him and inspecting his hand.

"Ahh, that hurts," Mike gasps, silently savoring Will's hand holding his. Even if it took face-planting in front of him and cutting his hand in the process.

"Sorry Mike."

"No, the hand, not you. You're good. It'll be fine. Just use your magic on it, and it'll be good as new, like usual."

Will hesitates, patting down his own body until he finds a leather cross-body bag. "I'm not sure about that. I have my aid satchel on me, so I don't even need to use it."

"You have your satchel?" Mike hasn't seen Will carry that around since before he learned his healing magic. "Is everything alright?"

"No — no everything's fine, let me just," Will starts. He brings Mike's hand to his chest, closes his eyes, and starts chanting. However, instead of golden wisps that look like borrowed sunlight, inky black smoke materializes from his hands, which burns when it comes into contact with Mike's hand. Instinctively, he snatches his hand away, watching darkened veins along his hand retreat. Will lets out a string of profanities, something he rarely does, as he scrambles for his satchel and begins to shakily clean and bandage Mike's hand, the sting of alcohol is a burn much more familiar. Once Mike's hand is wrapped, he turns to Will. Neither of them say anything for a beat, then two, as the process what just happened.

"What's going on Will?" Mike pleads. Immediately, Will's face scrunches, his eyes flood with tears, and he starts sobbing. Mike feels awful, seeing Will like this, with his hands roughly swiping at his face, not quite catching the snot dripping from his nose.

"I'm — I'm so sorry. My magic. It's all messed up and I have nightmares almost every night and something is wrong, Mike. With me. And I'm so scared. All the time. Because I think it's the same thing that took me, the same thing that killed Barbara and Frederick and Patrick and Chrissy," Will shudders through his tears. He grabs Mike's arm suddenly, his terrified, bloodshot eyes staring into Mike's. "It's not stopping, Mike. Not until we — this whole kingdom — is gone. Dead." Will slumps forward into Mike, his nose brushing Mike's neck. "And I don't know what to do."

Mike wraps his arms tightly around Will, holding him to his chest and running his hand along Will's back in an attempt to soothe him. "Does your mother know?"

Will nods, weakly. He's calmer now. "I told her when they first started. But who would we go to? Everyone already suspects something, if they heard about this… I don't want to think about it."

"Let me sleep over again, Will. I'll stay with you and nothing will happen," Mike insists.

"That's a bad idea. This thing, it's dangerous. Plus if anyone saw —"

"I don't care."

"Mike. Be serious. The Winter Ball is tomorrow, you'll have to get up even earlier, and if someone sees you with me then they might not even let you in," Will stresses.

"Don't worry about that, it'll be fine. You're waiting tables at the Winter Ball, so you have to get up early too. We'll get up together!"

"It's still a bad idea. You're basically becoming an official paladin tomorrow, Mike. I'm not exactly the pinnacle of justice and righteousness with the whole being tormented by a dark monster thing," Will grumbles.

"Well, if you're wrong, then I don't know what's right," Mike confesses.

Will giggles, before trying to cover it up with a groan and an eye roll. "That was so cheesy."

"There's more where that came from! But seriously. I'm not letting you leave me like this. Not now. Not because of some stupid monster that picked the wrong cleric to mess with," Mike says as he stands up at the same time as Will (making sure not to slip this time).

"Then protect me, my brave paladin."

It doesn't take long for Mike and Will to get back to the Byers' and climb through Will's window into his room, partially due to how they basically run back in trying to escape the howling, icy wind. This time, as they're both laying on their sides in Will's bed, Mike takes Will's hand, warming it up between his injured and non-injured ones. He doesn't let go. Will is taking deep, shaky breaths, his eyes darting warily around his room.

"I think I'm going to leave Hawkinshire. As soon as I'm of age. I think I'll go to Lenora, maybe Vallaki. They're supposed to be… more accepting of magic users like me," Will announces in the quiet room.

Mike goes still. Somehow, he hadn't considered this. They had never talked about what would happen after. Mike is supposed to pledge his oath to the kingdom in late spring, just like every paladin before him, and forever remain to protect the townspeople. He'd always thought that Will would remain here too.

"I can't stay here, Mike."

"But —"

"You'll be fine, you know, without me. Maybe I'll come back and visit. If my mother and brother don't move, I will," Will says matter-of-factly.

Mike nods sadly. Unfortunately, he perfectly understands Will's reasoning.

"What if I go with you?"

"Mike you can't. What about your oath? You're a paladin," Will insists, almost as though he's trying to convince himself.

Mike shrugs. "I don't want to swear my loyalty to a place where you are not. I physically can't, the gods would strike me down for lying. I'd get toasted in front of the whole kingdom."

Will laughs. "I'll think about it."

The silence afterwards is not really uncomfortable, but Mike still searches for a way to fill the gap. In an effort to both distract Will and get his own answers, Mike musters up as much courage as he can and says, "you never told me who it was."

"Who what was?" Will asks, his eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

"You said you've fallen in love before. Who was it?" Mike presses.

Will squeaks and goes bright red. "Well, what about you? Have you ever been in love? Maybe not with Jane, but someone else?" He splutters.

"You're avoiding the question."

"So are you."

Mike rolls his eyes in fake annoyance. He takes a deep breath, and stops avoiding the question. "I have fallen in love before. I am in love." Mike's heart is beating so loud he can barely make out Will's response.

"Tell me about them, what are they like?"

"Asking him to be my friend was the best thing I've ever done."

Before Mike can blink, Will crosses the gap between them and kisses Mike. On the lips. At first Mike is still with shock, but when Will tries to pull away, apologies spilling from his lips, Mike draws him back in and kisses him back. It's somehow soft and desperate at the same time, parting but coming back together again and again. Mike takes Will's bottom lip between his own and sucks, before biting at it gently, and causing Will to make faint noises that flood Mike's whole body with heat. A wandering hand threads its way through Mike's hair and tugs at it slightly, and now Mike is making noises of his own. While Mike keeps Will's other hand clasped between his bandaged one, his right hand makes its way onto Will's face, his thumb tracing Will's tear tracks.

Mike swipes his tongue into Will's mouth and they're closer than ever before, so intertwined that feels as though they are slowly fusing into one. He doesn't think that he would mind that, if it means kissing Will forever. Because while he's kissed people before, it has never been like this. Intimacy and warmth and this other emotion so big Mike doesn't know if he'll be able to name it before it floods him completely and tosses his love-drunk body to shore. Kissing Will is just like all the great love stories he's secretly indulged in over the years and more. Eventually, much to Mike's dismay, the kisses slow. Desperation turns to exhaustion. When they part, Mike touches his forehead to Will's, noting how swollen and red his lips look. I did that, he thinks smugly.

Mike brushes Will's hair from his face. "So this guy you're in love with. What is he like?"

Will grins, biting his lip. His green eyes are sparkling. Mike doesn't think he'll ever be able to look away. "Sometimes, he thinks he's really funny, when he's really not."

Mike gasps dramatically, removing his hand from Will's waist in order to put his hand on his chest so it looks like he's grabbing at his heart. "You wound me, my cleric."

"Oh no, do I have to kiss it better?" Will asks with false sincerity, failing to hide his smile. Not that he appears to be trying all that hard.

"That's the best cure, I'm afraid. I've heard it works quickest if you kiss the lips of the wounded."

"You know what, I think I've heard that too," Will says as he brings Mike in for more kisses. Once they finally part, there's no ignoring Will's slow blinking as he attempts to stay awake. Mike doesn't know how much longer he can stay awake either.

"We should go to sleep," Mike yawns. He's already dreading how tired he's going to be in the morning.

"Yes you're right," Will says anxiously.

"It'll be alright, Will. I'll be with you the whole night, so let me have a turn fighting the monsters this time, yeah? I won't let anything happen to you."

"Thank you." Will lets out a deep breath and lays his head on Mike's shoulder. "Goodnight, Mike."

"Goodnight."

When Mike wakes up, the sun hasn't risen and the bed is cold and empty. Mike is immediately jolted awake by suffocating panic. He jumps out of the bed and frantically searches around the dark room for any sign of Will. Nothing. He's not under the bed, or in the closet, or behind the door. Mike even tentatively searches the rest of the house, looking through every room apart from Jonathan and Joyce's bedroom. After combing through Will's draws, he finds a match for the candle on his desk, striking it against the box and shakily lighting the wick. It's not two seconds before a strong gust of wind blows it out. Where the wind came from, Mike doesn't know. He assumes the window is rattling due to the howling wind outside, but the window is closed.

"Will?" Mike calls, too worried to keep his voice down.

He's just about to knock on Mrs Byers' door when he sees something scurrying across the grass outside the Byers' house from the corner of his eye. Maybe a rabbit? Or a deer? Since Will is likely not inside, Mike leaves through the front door to investigate. The first thing he notices is how still the night is. Instead of roaring wind, the night is still, as though the whole forest is holding its breath. Gnarled trees are twisted so deeply that not even moon light can get through, despite their naked branches. Leaves crunch beneath Mike's feet as he makes his way towards a shadowy figure, who is far enough away that Mike can't tell what exactly it is. It's crouched on the ground, low enough to be an animal, but somehow, it hasn't noticed him yet. As Mike gets closer, he realizes with impending dread that he does recognize it. Him. Mike would know Will's hair anywhere, and he's wearing the white shirt that Will put on before he went to bed.

"Will!" Mike cries, running towards him.

Will is facing away from Mike, on his hands and knees as he appears to be… digging? Unearthed soil flies from either side of him as Will still doesn't respond. He's chanting, too. Something deep and ancient under his breath, so low Mike wouldn't be able to hear it if the wind hadn't stopped. There's some sort of smoke coming off him, making Mike think that he's lit a fire somewhere, but there's no light. And the wisps are too dark to be smoke. It's not coming from behind Will, but from Will himself. Mike takes a step back and a twig snaps beneath his foot. Will stops digging and twists his head jerkily to face Mike, startling Mike so suddenly that he trips on the twig he just broke, landing on his injured hand again. Will's eyes are a solid, milky white, with no green in sight, and his face is covered in blood. Some of it is dried, across his forehead and under his eye. But the blood around his mouth is fresh. Mike thinks back to how just a few hours ago Will's lips were red for a completely different reason.

When Will stands up, it's almost as though he's unraveling himself. His limbs contort unnaturally like how a child would move a doll. It's so unnerving that Mike doesn't even get up to run, and just scuttles backwards on his hands and feet. An animal's foot peaks out from behind where Will stands, but Mike doesn't look at it for long enough to identify what it is, too focused on the blood dripping from Will's eyes.

"Who — no, what are you? What have you done with Will, where is he?" Mike wails. He struggles to get the words out between his teeth chattering and his lip quivering. 'Will' walks over to him slowly, his head tilting too far down to meet Mike's eyes to look normal. There's blood all down his shirt too. He almost looks like a child who got into a bag of strawberries.

"Go to sleep," 'Will' croaks, choking the words out as though his voice has never been used before. It's deep and layered, too. Like someone else is talking along with him.

Mike scrambles up. He tries to get closer to Will, but it's as though he's trying to wade through honey. He's stuck.

"Go to sleep," it says, and Mike doesn't remember anything else.

"Mike! Wake up, you're going to be late!" His mother yells up the stairs, jolting Mike awake. While he blinks the sleep dust out of his eyes, Mike blearily looks around his room. His room, not Will's. Why isn't he in Will's room right now? How did he get home? Last night is a blur, the only thing he can make out with any certainty is the image of Will in the woods, eyes white and drenched in blood. His left hand has lost its bandage, but instead of a scab, all Mike sees is smooth, unmarred skin. Was it all a dream, a nightmare conjured by Mike's worst fears? If it was a dream, he mourns the few hours before and how Will's lips felt on his.

"Mike! Are you up yet?"

Mike jumps out of bed. He's wearing sleep clothes he hasn't seen in months. From Will's, then.

"Mike?"

"Coming!" He yells back. After spending a couple minutes digging through his closet, he finds the navy suit he's supposed to wear for the Winter Ball today. He shoves one leg through his trouser and hops around his room, trying to put the other one in, almost tripping over in the process. He needs to see Will. To find out if it was all a dream, if any of it was real. Mike wants to just take off now, Winter Ball be damned, but he knows he can't. Will is going to be there anyway, he tells himself. And if he isn't, Mike will find him. After squeezing himself into the suit, running a hand through his hair to make it look at least presentable, and licking his finger and thumb to slick back his eyebrows, Mike runs down the stairs to find his frustrated mother waiting for him. A single serving of soup and buttered white bread is on the table waiting for him, and it's still hot. He burns his tongue trying to shovel it down. Mike's mother stands behind him, affectionately ruffling his hair despite her annoyance.

"We have to leave in ten minutes Mike, are you almost ready?" She asks.

"Yeah, I just need to pee," Mike says through spoonfuls of hot soup.

Once Mike is ready, he and the rest of his family head to the Great Hall. Even though the Winter Ball is all about the children of the court becoming adults, their families still sit on the sidelines, watching their children/siblings dance and perform together. However, before he can get to that part, Mike has to do the interview. He's not worried about it, really. Maybe he should be. Mike doubts that Jason has put in a good word for him since their last class, but he can't really bring himself to care. All he can think about is Will, where he is, if he's alright, if he's still being controlled by that thing, if Mike made the whole thing up and Will is actually fine.

"Well done Mike, I'm so proud of you," his mother says, cupping his face with tears in her eyes. They're standing outside the room where Mike will have his interview and the Elders will determine if he's allowed to stay in the court with the rest of his family.

Nancy puts her hand on his shoulder and gives him a tight-lipped smile. "You've got this Mike, you just have to do it because it's tradition, so don't worry about it, alright? It'll be over before you know it."

"I won't, thank you Nancy," Mike replies, right as Holly tackles him with a hug. He wraps his arms around her, swaying them both side to side.

"It's just an interview, Holly, I'll see you soon," Mike says, tucking her hair behind her ears. "It'll be your turn before you know it."

Holly steps back and nods. "See you soon!"

"Good luck son," is all his father says.

It isn't long before Mike's name is called and he's ushered into a small, dark room, the center of which is a wooden circular table, occupied by three of the kingdom Elders. Elder Kline sits in the middle. After they gesture for Mike to sit down, they shuffle through the pile of papers in front of them. Mike's leg can't stop bouncing, and it's shaking the table ever so slightly. Is Will there? Is he alright? Will was supposed to be there an hour before the Winter Ball started in order to help set up the tables. What will he do if he can't find him? Can he just leave?

"Let's get this started," Mayor Kline drawls. "Your mother and father are Edward and Karen Wheeler, correct?"

Nancy was right, the interview was over before he knew it. After a couple of questions about Mike's family, classes, and hobbies, all of which Mike distractedly stumbles through, they let him know that he's free to join the Winter Ball. It feels weird, walking down the corridor by himself. He's attended every year, like all families of the court do, but usually as a guest who sits off to the side and counts down the minutes along with Lucas. Eventually, he gets to the ginormous ornate double doors that mark the entrance to the hall. He takes a deep breath, shakes off his nerves, and gives his name to the guard manning the doors.

"Here to join the court as a loyal Paladin, is Michael Wheeler!" A voice booms, announcing his presence as Mike makes his way down the marble steps. His mother and sisters clap and cheer enthusiastically, his father a little less so, though he still looks pleased. The Great Hall is beautiful, but it rarely ever isn't. Sparkling chandeliers light up the gorgeous paintings that detail the myths and legends that formed Hawkinshire's foundation and cover the walls completely, while snowflake and other winter-themed decorations hang from every surface. Below him is a sea of cool toned blues, greens, purples, and the occasional silver that turn and sway as the rest of the court's children — or, newly appointed adults — dance to the swelling music performed by an ensemble of string and wind instruments.

"You made it!" Lucas beams, appearing from behind Mike to give him a tight hug, clapping his hand on Mike's shoulder heartily. He's wearing a matching evergreen blazer, trousers, and tie with a cream shirt underneath. It's the exact same as Mike's except color, something they did on purpose when they bought the outfits together.

"What? Did you think I wouldn't?"

"I thought you'd be late."

"I almost was. Overslept."

Lucas rolls his eyes but still laughs. "Big surprise. Never doubted you, though."

"Thanks, man."

"The party hasn't started yet, not properly, anyway."

Mike can tell, while some of his peers are dancing, most of them are either chatting to their friends or family, and those who are on the dance floor, are doing so without any energy that Mike would says belongs to a party. Not that this is supposed to be a party, the Winter Ball is supposed to be all proper and sophisticated. But that doesn't stop the drunken antics that start after sunset when the music speeds and the drums start to play.

"I thought Dustin overheard Stacy say that she was going to spike the punch?" Mike asks, scanning the room for the food and drinks table.

"Haven't risked it without you."

"You just want me to make a fool of myself."

"I don't think you have to be drunk to do that."

"Yeah, whatever," Mike says, this time scanning the room for a different reason. "Have you seen Will?"

Lucas raises an eyebrow when Mike says that, as though he's surprised he's asking about Will at all. Was his and Will's silent argument really that noticeable? "About thirty minutes ago, he was with one of Nancy's friends, the eccentric blonde one. Has he been acting weird with you, too?"

Mike nods, gravely. "I want to go check on him, do you know where he is?"

"I think he's handing out the punch that may or may not be spiked. I'll show you," Lucas says, marching towards the far end of the hall.

They manage to find Will quickly, who is in fact handing out the punch. The first thing Mike thinks when he sees him is how normal he looks, there isn't a single drop of blood on his black uniform. Will doesn't turn to them immediately, continuing to load glasses of punch onto his tray without looking in their direction, though Mike can tell that he's noticed them.

"Hello Will," Mike says stiffly. What does he even say? So about last night, was it you out there digging up the ground covered in blood, or did I get you confused with somebody else? Did we really kiss last night until we couldn't breathe, or was that all in my head?

"Will?" Lucas asks. He's about to tap Will on his shoulder when Will finally looks up to them. His eye bags are completely gone, his skin flushed instead of pale and clammy.

"Oh, I didn't see you there!" Will says in a monotone voice. There's no expression to his voice or face, it's like talking to a mannequin. While his green eyes are back, they're glazed over, like someone spilled milk over his irises.

"How are you, are you alright?" Mike utters, trying not to draw attention to them.

"Yes. Fine. Just… busy," Will says, refusing to look either of them in the eye.

"But you know that if something isn't fine, then you can come to us, right?" Lucas implores.

"I know. I really am busy, though."

"Not too busy to see me yesterday," Mike insists.

Will looks at Mike, confused. "I don't think I saw anyone yesterday…"

As Will picks up the last glass on the table, Mike looks at his fingernails. Instead of their usual color, the tips of his nails are brown and dirty, like there's soil under them. Mike attempts to grab Will's arm, but he's too slow and Will manages to slip away despite carrying a whole tray of punch glasses.

"Will!" Mike yells.

But Will doesn't even look back.

"That was definitely weird, right?" Lucas says. Mike hums in response, his brain too full of confusion to string a proper sentence together. "I'll make sure to keep an eye on him."

"Me — me too, of course. I'll look out for him too," Mike stammers, blushing. Lucas gives him a weird look but seemingly elects to move on, giving him a pat on the shoulder before telling Mike that he's going to check on his family first.

"Mike?" a voice calls from behind him. It's Jane. She looks amazing, her dress shimmers under the lights, looking like a cloud while her hair is twisted into an elaborate updo.

"Jane! You look great, I mean it," he says sincerely.

"Thanks. You do too. Do you want to dance?" Jane says, gesturing to the dance floor. The music has picked up a little, so it's a chance for Jane to do one of the harder dances they learned together.

"Sure, yeah!"

Mike puts his arms on her waist, and Jane puts hers on his shoulders and they step onto the dance floor. They dance mostly elegantly, a few stumbles here and there. Mike spends most of it with his head down, looking at his feet to make sure that he doesn't trip over himself or step on Jane's dress.

"I take it the interview went well?"

Jane nods, pleased with herself. "Very. They were impressed with the cake I brought in."

Mike laughs, "I'm sure they were," he says under his breath. "See, nothing to worry about."

After the song ends, they step back to where the food is laid. Mike makes sure to pile up his plate. His mother's cooking is good, but he never gets to have anything like this at home regularly. There isn't just soft breads and thousands of types of cheeses, but sandwiches that are taller than they are wide and delicate pastries.

"Thank you Mike. You didn't have to help me."

Mike shrugs. "So? I had fun."

Less than a minute after those words leave his mouth, Mike hears a loud crash behind him and an ear-splitting roar. He whips his head around immediately, as does Jane, and right in the center of the dance floor is a creature that Mike has never seen before. Stained glass shards are everywhere, and Mike's eyes follow the trail to the broken window the monster had burst through. It's vaguely humanoid, in a way that it could be mistaken for a person far enough away, but up close, it's anything but. Corded muscle covers uncanny elongated limbs, its entire body gray and slimy. The weirdest part about this monster is the head, which opens up like a flower when it screams, the inside covered in small sharp teeth, saliva flying everywhere. Everyone starts shrieking and crying, tripping over themselves to get away. It starts ambling over to a cluster of tables on Mike's right. Right where his family are sat.

"No!" Mike roars, frantically searching for a weapon, something, anything. The only thing he can find is hefty candlestick. He takes it. The guards assemble quickly, throwing what they can at it, but while their swords hit their target, causing cuts that bleed dark sludge, the creature doesn't seem bothered, swatting them away like flies.

"For Chrissy!" Jason screams like a war cry, face twisting with anguish as he waves his sword above his head. But it never comes down. Instead, the creature takes its talons and rakes Jason across the chest, almost splitting him apart and sending him flying into a pile of snow-themed decorations, all of which he splatters with blood. Mike can't let them get any closer to his family. He rushes over, Jane by his side. While a candlestick isn't a sword, it's all he has. Through some kind of enchantment, it's managed to stay alight, despite the wild way in which Mike swings it. When it hits the creature, instead of mild annoyance, like Mike expected, it screeches in pain, raising its talons to strike him too.

Time slows down and a few things happen in quick succession. First, Mike moves to hit it again, thinking that maybe it has a weakness to wax or metal, but before he can, an arm in front of him stops him. Second, Mike looks over to the owner of the arm, Jane, who is staring down the creature with a determined look on her face. Mike shakes his head, whatever she's planning, she can't do. Not with all these people here, but Jane just nods. I have to do this, her expression says. Third, Jane raises her hand, palm face down, and screams. This time, it's the creatures turn to start flying. When Mike looks back to Jane, she's completely transformed. Her face is almost reptilian and her eyes are a burning red. The hand he holds out in front of her looks like a claw and her dress is torn where bulging muscles covered in scales couldn't be contained within the delicate fabric. It's too late. The whole court can see her true form. But Jane doesn't care, she's too busy doing what the guards couldn't and protecting everyone in the Great Hall.

To his right, Mike sees his parents and sisters emerge from behind a broken table. He runs over, hugging his mother and Holly, while scanning them all to make sure they didn't get hurt. They're scared, but unharmed. Mike hears yet another crash from behind him. A second creature has broken through, this time destroying one of the walls. More people scream in terror, as the guards recover from their shock and attempt to help Jane. But what no one else seems to see, is Will. Instead of cowering, or hiding, he's standing still, his arms near his sides and his palms are facing up. When one of the guards shoves their sword down one of the creature's throats, Will shouts in tandem with it, his eyes rolled back until only their whites show.

Understanding dawns on Mike, but before he can run over to Will, he looks back to his family. Nancy and Holly seem to watch his conflict play out on his face. They look over Mike's shoulder and spot Will too, though Mike doubts they understand the entirety of the situation.

"You stay here, Mike. I can lead them out safely," Nancy urges, somehow procuring a small weapon from the pockets of her trousers, what that weapon is, Mike doesn't know. Mike looks over to Holly, who is standing proud and holding her head high, to the point where her chin is almost pointing upwards.

"Holly —" Mike starts.

"We'll be fine," Holly interrupts. "I know a place where we can hide. Holly the Heroic, remember?"

Mike wants to protest, whatever this thing is — it's strong. It might've been a fluke when Mike managed to hurt it and it's taking all of Jane's strength to keep two at bay. What if there's another waiting outside? But he's running out of time, and Will seems to be at the center of this somehow. Mike nods, grimly and hands Holly the candlestick.

"I don't know how I hurt it, but I did. Keep this with you, and if it's dark, it'll light your way."

Holly nods shakily, blinking tears from her eyes before schooling her face.

"Mike. Go. We'll be alright," Nancy says firmly.

"Promise me you'll stay safe, that you'll protect each other."

"We will."

And with that, Mike turns on his heel and races to where Will stands. Just like the first night he'd seen Will like this, he seems to be in some sort of trance. Mike tries shaking him awake, yelling his name, trying to talk him out of the trance. Nothing. Will remains stood still, eyes rolled to the back of his head and lips slightly parted. Then, a scream pierces Mike's ears, not because it's the loudest one there, as there are many others shouting, but because Mike recognizes it. Holly. When Mike turns around he sees it, a creature ambling towards his family, claws stretched wide. There's at least four of the creatures wreaking havoc in the Great Hall, so it has gone mostly unnoticed to those who are fighting. Mike turns back to Will, shaking him harder. He needs to get him out of this trance. Now.

It's then that Mike spots Will's aid satchel, tucked in a corner behind a pillar. Mike runs over and tosses its contents on the floor, rifling through the various bottles and pastes before he finds what he's looking for: a small cloth and a bottle of clear liquid. Time to fight dirty. He pours some of the liquid onto the cloth, runs back to Will and holds it under his nose. Within a few second, Will is out cold, and as he collapses onto the ground, so do the creatures. Luckily, Mike had caught Will as he went down and now, as he cradles Will's head, he lifts his eyelids. Green. Good. As Jane and the guards kill the fallen creatures, Mike watches his family escape with a sigh of relief. Before he can lift Will onto his shoulder, Lucas, Jane, and Hopper come running over. Jane has a shawl over her head, likely to hide her transformation back to a human.

"Is he alright?" Jane asks as Lucas searches for a pulse.

"Yes, but we need to get him back to the Byers' before he wakes up," Mike says, standing up.

"Why can't he wake up?" Hopper says, confused. His eyes dart between them as though their faces will give an answer.

"Will's connected to this somehow. Those creatures were like nothing like I've seen before, pale and slimy like they spend their lives in the dark."

"You're saying they're from the Vale of Shadows?" Lucas gasps.

Jane's eyes widen in realization. "Where Will disappeared."

"What if this connection is the bridge that brought these creatures here. He was acting weird last night, digging around his garden. There was blood too, animal, I think." Mike explains.

"And if the connection is gone, so are the monsters," Hopper adds.

"Exactly," says Mike. "I'm not quite sure on how to dose the bottle I used to knock him out, so I'm not sure how much time we have, and there could be more creatures on their way."

Hopper nods. "Follow me, we'll take the horses."

Once they're at the stables, Mike uses it as a chance to grab his sword and armor where it hangs with the rest of the equipment used for battle, ditching the suit to change into it. Lucas has the same idea, reaching for his bow. They each get on a horse each, apart from Mike, who hauls Will onto his horse. Since Will is unconscious, it's hard to position him without worrying that he'll fall off. After much trial and error, Will is eventually sat directly in front of Mike on the saddle, so he falls into Mike's chest. After tying Will to Mike with a large amount of rope, they head off, galloping to the Byers'. At some point, Lucas peels off to get Max, Dustin, and anyone else they might need, promising to meet them there. Apart from a few scary moments where Will almost slips out of his binds, they reach the woods where the Byers live largely unscathed, unfortunately, that's not before seeing more creatures lying on the ground, surrounded by carnage. There was more than they thought after all. Mike shudders at the thought, terrified for everyone who hasn't yet escaped. It's tempting to go back, but Mike knows they can't afford to. He's right about the connection to Will, and that might be the key to saving the kingdom.

They're only a few meters into the woods when the horses skid to a stop, almost bucking them off entirely. Despite nudging them forward, their horses refuse to move, fighting the reins as they try to turn back around. Mike, Hopper, and Jane trade concerned looks. It's getting too dark to see that far, but the trees stand taller than usual and fog is slowly descending.

"Looks like we're going to have to keep going on foot," Hopper sighs, dismounting from his horse. Mike and Jane follow suit, and Mike princess carries Will. His arms ache after a while, but he still refuses any help from Jane and Hopper. Every click, snap, and crunch makes him jump.

Once they're finally up the Byers', Hopper walks up the steps in a way that Mike would describe as stomping. He knocks.

"Joyce?"

The door flies open and Mrs Byers jumps into Hopper's arms. Jonathan stands in the doorway, wielding a sharp piece of broken-off fence.

"You scared us! Thank the gods it's you! There were these awful creatures," Mrs Byers cries. She steps back, holding Hopper's face to inspect it for any cuts or bruises. "Have you seen —" Mike pinpoints the exact moment when Mrs Byers spots him. "Will!"

Mrs Byers runs over, gently brushing Will's hair out of his face once she reaches them. "Is he alright?" She asks.

"Something's… wrong," Mike explains vaguely. Mrs Byers nods gravely, like she isn't surprised. She beckons them in and Mike immediately notices how cold it is. He hadn't noticed before as either he'd been too distracted, or he thought it was a part of Will's episodes. But now he can see that throughout the house, there are few candles lit. A smouldering fire is smoking in the living room, just to make sure the Byers don't freeze to death, but that's about it.

Mike lays Will onto his bed with help from Mrs Byers, gathering rope secure his midsection onto the mattress, as once Will wakes up, they can't trust him to stay put. If this thing can put Mike to sleep with just a few words… who knows what else it can do. However, before Mike's done securing the rope, he hears scratching and growling from outside. In the garden, where Will had been digging the night before, Mike sees slimy claws hoisting corded muscle from the ground. His hands start flying, tying the last knot as Will's eyes open, a milky green staring straight at him. Two, three, four more creatures climb out of the hole in the ground. The last one is different from the rest. Instead of a flower-like face, this one is distinctly human, though it looks more like Jane's face after she's transformed due to it's reptilian nose and scales. Mike trades a terrified look with Mrs Byers. Will's eyes roll to the back of his head.

"Get. Out." Mike and Mrs Byers are sent flying out the room, the door slamming behind them. Jane and Hopper look at them shocked, before realizing what exactly is out the window. They march out the door determined.

"Sever the connection Joyce, we'll take care of this jester," Hopper calls behind him. From out the window, Mike sees Jane transform while casting a hand out in front of her, throwing the creatures in all different directions while leveling several trees, the more human one stays back, clearly preferring its minions to do the fighting. Will's door opens easily when Mike tries it, rubbing his aching back from his crash landing. It must be distracted.

"Just how do we sever the connection, though?" Jonathan asks now that they're all standing around Will, who is glaring at them uneasily and pulling at the ropes keeping him on the bed. Mike thinks back to the screech of pain the candle stick had caused. What if it hadn't been the wax or the metal, but the flame? He remembers yesterday when Will hadn't worn his scarf.

"Fire. I think fire, or some kind of heat could be its weakness," Mike suggests.

Mrs Byers nods, telling Mike about how Will refused to take hot baths and begged to lower the heating while Jonathan leaves the room to throw his piece of fence into the living room fire.

"No! He's lying!" It screams desperately.

It thrashes and flails, but its powers are clearly weakened by trying to fight multiple things at once. Slowly but surely, Mike, Mrs Byers, and Jonathan gather every heat source from the house into Will's room, and those that can't be moved, are lit anyway. Candles and torches cover the room completely, all of Will's art hidden to prevent it from catching fire, smothering the room in a thick, black smoke. Mike hears rumbling in the distance, more creatures are joining the fight, causing a sea of slimy gray that threatens to crash against the Byers' house. Peering through the smoke, Mike can see that they're struggling. There's just too many. But Mike can't leave just yet, Will's still fighting his restraints, jerking and writhing with pain. As though the gods are answering Mike's prayers, it's that exact moment when Lucas returns, with Max, Dustin, Nancy, and Steve in tow. It doesn't take them long for them to join the battle, all except Nancy (who runs inside the house) arming themselves with their weapons.

"How's Holly? Mother and father? Mike asks when Nancy bursts into the room, immediately having to fan smoke from her face.

"They're alright. Holly did find a good hiding spot and she's helping other townsfolk too," Nancy reveals. Mike couldn't be prouder.

Making sure to be brief, Nancy updates Mike, Jonathan, and Mrs Byers, being quiet as well as careful not to be too specific, just in case It hears. Apparently the creatures are largely concentrated in the woods to avoid the dying sunlight, but they're spreading. Fast. And their numbers are growing steadily.

"Use fire. Lots of it," insists Mike as Nancy returns to battle. She nods, determined, and shuts the door behind her, which makes their current problem a whole lot more noticeable. The smoke.

It's choking them slowly, stopping clean air from getting to their lungs and making Mike disconcertingly dizzy. They can't take this anymore, and so Mike opens the window. Instantly, the smoke starts to escape and they all take heaving gulps of air. Cold air. If the way that Will's eyes start fluttering are any indication, It is steadily increasing its hold again. Mrs Byers falls to her knees and starts sobbing.

"Oh Will," she cries. "You beautiful boy. I don't know what I'll do if that — if that thing takes you. I'll miss you so much."

Mike watches as Will's eyebrows scrunch in anguish and his writing slows, solely focusing on his mother.

"His eyes," Jonathan whispers in awe. "Just for a moment, they were green again."

Understanding dawns over Mike. "We can't fight this alone anymore, we need to help Will fight from the inside."

While the battle rages outside, Mike, Jonathan, and Mrs Byers take turns telling their favorite stories about Will, to Will. Mike picks his favorite tales from their make believe games as children, times where Will was selfless and brave are so plentiful that Mike finds choosing the stories difficult. He talks about how Will had sacrificed himself in order to let Mike, Dustin, and Lucas cross the bridge to the castle where they eventually defeated the Thessalhydra, before going on to describe how it was Will's kindness that had persuaded the old wizard to tell them how to save the princess. Meanwhile, Jonathan and Mrs Byers tell stories of the creation of Castle Byers, Will's art, and his goodness. Mike's heart feels full as wave after wave of emotion crashes over him. He feels warm and full of love hearing of all the times Will has been … Will. Simultaneously, fear threatens to take over his being. Fear of a life without Will, without his quiet strength, without his compassion, or the color he brings to everything. It's a while before Mike next steps forward. They seem to be getting closer, but not close enough.

"I told you recently, that asking you to be my friend was the best thing I've ever done. It's true," Mike starts. "I remember that day so clearly. How alone I felt, how everyone else felt so out of reach, so cold. I wanted to make a friend so badly, not just to fit in, or to have another place to spend time, but to share my life with. I was such a loud child, not that I've become any quieter. I used to get told that I took up too much space, that no one would ever want to spend time with me because no one cared about the same things that I did. I was supposed to learn to let those things go, instead of finding someone to share them with me."

Will's eyes are focused on Mike completely, flickers of green fighting through the milky haze. Mike wipes his own eyes and continues.

"I think I've always known you were special. To the world, but of course, to me. I was so alone that day, and I saw you were too. I couldn't figure out how, though, you were so bright that I thought everyone must be drawn to you like I was. So I went up to you and I asked — I asked if you wanted to be my friend. And you said yes. You said yes. It was the best thing I've ever done. I'm not alone, I'll never have to be, and neither are you."

"Come back to us," Mrs Byers begs, gripping Will's hand tightly.

Will gasps, his eyes returning to their natural green.

"Will? Is that you?" Jonathan pleads.

Will nods, smiling shakily. "It's me." The whole room sighs in relief. But they don't move to release Will just yet.

"The connection, it's gone?" Mike asks.

Will's face turns solemn. "Not — not yet. I can still feel him, but I'm in control. He's getting weaker, but he's not gone yet."

CRASH!

Everyone turns to the window, which is now adorned with a large crack that almost perfectly imitates a spider's web after Lucas was just thrown into it.

"Mike!" Lucas cries. "We need you out here. Now." His face is half smushed against the creaking glass as he wrestles with one of the creatures.

"I can't," Mike insists. "Will still isn't — he's not —" Mike turns back to Will.

"You should go," Will says.

"What? I can't. Not now," protests Mike.

"I think I have an idea, but you need to trust me."

"Of course I trust you. But —"

"Mike. I love you, and I mean this in the best way... But I don't need you. They do. Go," Will says firmly.

Mike nods, not even having the time to process what Will just said before grabbing his sword, and leaving the Byers' house to enter the fray. It's complete chaos. Fire, swords, and arrows fly everywhere, causing Mike to have to constantly duck. Even the odd creature flies over his head, courtesy of Jane, who is slowly wading through the creatures to get the more humanoid who seems to be in charge of them all. Hopper and Steve are off to one side, trying to clear a path for Jane, while Lucas has retreated to what remains of the tree line with Nancy to fire exploding projectiles, while Dustin works as a distraction to keep them safe.

"Took you long enough," Max scoffs, zooming past while wielding some kind of torch. She seems to be helping Dustin out with the distraction.

Mike rolls his eyes and clumsily chants one of the few, small incantations he knows. Almost immediately, his sword bursts into flames, burning brighter than it ever has before. Mike charges, bringing his fiery sword down on the nearest creature in front of him, which starts wailing in pain, jerking and twisting too hard to land a proper hit on Mike. It tries anyway, its arms attempting to knock Mike's head clean off, but Mike just ducks and sticks his sword clean through its skull. It drops in a smouldering heap in front of him, and not even the sludge-like 'blood' that spurts from its wound can put out Mike's sword. However, now that his view is a little clearer, Mike spots some of the creatures trying to escape into Hawkinshire, the woods in between having not barricaded to stop them. When yelling doesn't work, Mike lets out a loud, sharp whistle, which quickly alerts everyone's attention.

"Lucas! Nancy! They're trying to leave!" Mike screams.

As soon as the words leave his mouth, a wall of fire materializes out of several arrows fired, immediately stopping the creatures in their tracks. The fire seems to have an enchantment on it so that it stays put, but that's the least of Mike's worries. Every time Mike strikes a creature down, two more replace it. They're growing at a pace that Mike doesn't think they'll survive. The battle becomes so crowded that Mike can't even lift his arm to swing his sword. He's not the only one, Jane is getting further away from her target as Hopper and Steve slowly get overpowered, and Max and Dustin simply don't have the capacity to distract that many creatures, who have started climbing the trees that Lucas and Nancy reside in.

And then everything stops. For a moment, Mike thinks that he's hallucinating in his final moments. Every single creature has stopped, as though they're paralyzed. Mike turns, behind him is a creature mid-leap, clawed arm raised, ready to slash him open and watch his guts spill to the floor. But it never lands, its arm never completes the swing. Instead, it rises even further, along with all the other creatures. And then, all at the same time, their bones start to crack, and matching lacerations appear on their chests, leaving dark sludge to rain down on Mike, almost completely covering him. Disgusting. Like the first one Mike killed, every single one of them then falls in a boneless heap in front of him.

Mike doesn't need to look back to know who did this, but he does anyway. Behind him is Will, freshly untied and standing firmly at the foot of his house, with his arms out in front of him, palms raised. It scares Mike a little, when he sees that Will's eyes are once again completely white, but somehow Mike isn't worried. Will looks … in control. He also looks gorgeous. Lip curled with fierce determination and sweat gleaming, Mike thinks he's beautiful. All he can do is stare wide-eyed at the love of his life as he simultaneously destroys the what could be hundreds of monsters that were about to rip them all limb from limb.

The other important result of Will's prowess, is that without its minions, Jane is now clear to kill that Thing once and for all. She makes fairly quick work of it, especially since now everyone is free to help her. But ultimately, the final part of the battle is short. Mike races back to Will, but as Jane is driving a burning tree trunk through Its torso, Will falls to his knees, clutching his chest. His eyes return to their usual green, but his face is once of pain and anguish.

"Will!" Mike cries, running over to him and putting his head in his lap. Up close, Will looks even less well. His skin is pale and clammy, his eyes bloodshot, and he has started coughing up blood. Will's skin starts to turn a mottled red, imitating the pouring blood from that monster. The connection wasn't completely severed.

Mike attempts to stand up, calling for Jane to stop. Now. Will is looking worse by the second. This will kill him, and Mike's terrified, while watching the color slowly drain from Will's face. Will is everything to him. He can't go through life without him. He won't. But a weak hand on his arm stops him.

"No Mike… Stop," Will rasps. His eyelids are fluttering as he struggles to stay awake. "There is… no other way."

"NO! No no no…. This isn't fair," Mike wails, tears and snot streaming out of his face. It mixes with the creature sludge and temporarily blinds him. He swipes at his eyes angrily, trying to cast his eyes on Will one last time.

"It never was," Will says quietly. It sounds like acceptance, but his face says anything but. His lips are quivering and his eyebrows push together as Will's eyes start leaking tears too.

"I love you too," is all Mike replies, unable to face how deeply wrong this all is.

Mike cups Will's face lovingly, leaning down to kiss him one last time, snot and all. It's desperate, then weak, then nothing at all as Will's lips finally fall slack. A funnel of black smoke rushes out of Will like a dark tornado. That monster is gone, but all Mike can do is weep in grief. His cleric is gone.

It doesn't take long for Mrs Byers to join him, covering her mouth in shock. Frantically, she starts feeling his neck for a pulse, laying her head on his chest. Mike suddenly notices that everyone is now crowding around them, waiting with bated breath. The silence feels deafening compared to the raucous battle that ended just minutes ago.

"I — I think I hear something," Mrs Byers says firmly, as though she won't be convinced otherwise. Mike's stunned, his grief halts and all he feels is relief, followed by overwhelming anxiety. What if Will's alive now but they still can't save him? Mike doesn't think that he can lose him twice. Now Mike's the one that's paralyzed. Will is pried from his grip and carried into the Byers' house, where he's presumably laid on the table and treated haphazardly with the little medical knowledge everyone else can pool together. The healer is never supposed to get hurt. Not like this.

Once everyone has done all they can, Will rests in his bed. Alive. Asleep, but alive. No one knows when he'll wake, just that he should be able to. Mike doesn't leave his bedside. His family come to talk to him, eventually, and his friends bring him food, but Mike doesn't leave. Through those who do leave, Mike learns of Hawkinshire's rebuilding efforts, and how the majority of the kingdom had survived the attack. It makes Mike feel good to hear that, but he still can't leave.

It's three days after the attack when, while Mike is napping in his chair next to Will, he feels fingers brush through his hair. When he opens his eyes, green is staring back at him. Mike bursts into tears, launching himself at Will who is laughing quietly, which then turns to coughs as Mike squeezes too hard.

"Ouch — Mike!"

"Sorry! Let me give you some space," Mike says sheepishly, scooting back slightly.

"Not too much space, please."

That makes Mike go bright red. He then immediately leans back into Will, more gently this time, placing his head on Will's shoulder.

"How long have you been awake," Mike says as Will continues to thread his fingers through Mike's hair.

"Not too long," Will hums. "Long enough to know that you dream of me."

Any more talk like this and Mike will spontaneously combust. What could Will of heard? Mike can't even remember his dream. Was it the last time they spoke, where Mike had thought it would be their last? Or was it a different kind of dream…

He tries to be confident, nonchalant. "Most of the time, yes. It's either you or those multi-colored cakes from the bakery."

Will giggles into his hand and Mike wonders if life can always be like this.

"They are really good," Will says. When Will stops laughing, his face becomes more serious, and more red and he starts to look at the blanket instead of Mike. "Did you mean it when you said that I'm never alone?"

"Always. Where do you want to go?"

They leave for Vallaki in the early spring once they both come of age. The rest of the Party leave with them. There's no place for Will nor Jane in Hawkinshire anymore, as despite Hopper's best efforts, Jane's abilities and her transformation had still been revealed. However, Mike and Will were not the only ones sick of the only kingdom they'd known. While reconstruction efforts are in full swing, and the laws about magic have lessened in severity, at its heart, the kingdom is the same. Too many expectations, toxic hierarchies, and meaningless traditions. Mike found that he had simply outgrown the place. Why stay in your small, drab kingdom that is basically just a town, when you can see the world.

It doesn't take long for the Party to split up. Jane heads to a place up north to find three waterfalls, Dustin finds further education, while Lucas and Max go back to where Max had previously lived before Hawkinshire. While in Vallaki, Will creates the most beautiful art, and enchants it so that it literally comes to life on the page. On the other hand, Mike commits to writing. Detailing the stories of their youth so that their joint strength can inspire others, as well as reminding Mike everyday what it took to get where he is now. He still visits home occasionally, though less so once Holly also leaves.

Every so often, the Party find each other again, continuously crossing paths, drawn to each other like magnets. Sometimes they meet for drinks, merely to catch up and enjoy each other's company. However, many of the times they meet up, they complete a quest. Nothing like the creatures they once fought, but they'll sporadically encounter a troll or a giant spider. From time to time their quest will be smaller, like finding a lost treasure, or saving a pet. No matter what it is, they're happy to compete it together, and when they part, it's always with a promise to meet again soon. But Mike never parts with Will. Sure they argue, and sometimes even take breaks, but it's never permanent. And every day, when Mike wakes up, Will is always by his side, either sleeping peacefully, or looking down on him with his beautiful green eyes.