Chapter Text
The hospital room was quiet in a way that made everything feel fragile. Not silent. Never silent. Machines hummed softly somewhere near the wall. Nurses walked past outside the door every few minutes. The rain tapped gently against the window overlooking the parking lot, grey clouds swallowing the afternoon sky whole.
But inside the room itself, everything felt held together by careful breaths. By waiting.
By fear. By love.
Mike Wheeler sat in the chair beside the hospital bed with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped so tightly together his knuckles had gone pale. He kept bouncing one leg without realizing it.
Across from him, Will Byers held their daughter against his chest like if he loosened his grip for even a second, she might disappear.
She was impossibly small. That was the thing Mike couldn’t stop thinking about. Every person in the world started this tiny. This helpless. This warm.
Ellie made a soft whining sound in her sleep, her face scrunching up beneath the little knitted purple hat one of the nurses had put on her head earlier. Instantly, Will adjusted her carefully, swaying a little.
Mike stared at them both. His husband and his daughter. His family. It still didn’t feel real.
“She’s breathing weird.” Mike whispered suddenly.
Will looked up immediately. “What?”
“Her breathing.” Mike pointed vaguely. “Is that normal? Should she be doing that?”
Will blinked down at her. “Mike, babies breathe weird.”
“How do you know?”
“I read three books.”
“You read half of three books.”
“That still counts.”
Mike rubbed both hands down his face hard enough to drag his skin with them. He looked exhausted. More exhausted than Will had ever seen him. And emotional. Which, honestly, was terrifying.
Mike didn’t cry easily. Not because he couldn’t. Just because somewhere along the line he’d learned not to. Ted Wheeler had turned emotions into something awkward and embarrassing years ago, and Mike had spent most of his life pretending he didn’t have any. But when Ellie had been born six hours ago, Mike had cried so hard he’d nearly made himself sick.
Will remembered it perfectly.
The doctor had barely handed her over before Mike was already crying openly beside the hospital bed, laughing through tears while repeating, “Oh my god.” over and over again like his brain had stopped functioning properly.
Will had cried too, obviously But Mike had looked devastated by love. Like it physically hurt him.
Will looked back down at Ellie now, brushing his thumb carefully over the soft blanket wrapped around her.
Nine months ago.
Nine months ago, this all started.
Nine months ago, this would’ve seemed impossible.
Not the baby part. Well, maybe the baby part too. But this. A hospital room where nobody stared at them strangely. Forms that said Parent 1 and Parent 2 instead of mother and father. Wedding rings on both their fingers. A tiny baby girl sleeping peacefully in Will’s arms because she trusted them already without even understanding why.
Sometimes it still caught him off guard.
The fact they’d survived long enough to have this life.
Mike stood suddenly. “I think she hates me.”
Will looked up. “What?”
“She’s been crying every time I hold her.”
“She’s a newborn.”
“Yeah, but what if she knows?”
“Knows what?”
“That I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Will snorted softly.
Mike frowned immediately. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“You bought fourteen stuffed animals in one day.”
“It was stress buying.”
“It was financially irresponsible.”
“It was important.”
“You bought one that’s literally bigger than the crib.”
Mike crossed his arms. “She might want options.”
Will laughed quietly despite himself. The stuffed animal argument had happened four months ago.
Mike had come home from work carrying so many shopping bags that it made Will genuinely think that something terrible had happened. Instead, he’d pulled out teddy bear after teddy bear after teddy bear until their couch disappeared beneath them.
A rabbit. A dinosaur. A giant fluffy cow.
A bear wearing overalls. A star shaped pillow with a face. One octopus that looked genuinely haunted.
Will had stared at him in complete disbelief.
“Michael.”
Mike had immediately looked defensive. “They were cute.”
“She is not even born yet.”
“So?”
“She physically cannot hold all of these.”
“That’s quitter talk.”
Will had ignored him for nearly three hours
Which, in Mike’s opinion, had been deeply unfair. Especially because Will had eventually apologized to the stuffed animals afterward.
Mike remembered walking into the nursery later that night and finding Will sitting cross legged on the floor beneath the half painted purple walls, holding the ugly octopus in his lap. “You know..” Will had said very seriously, “I still don’t forgive him for buying you.”
Mike had leaned against the doorframe, grinning. “You’re talking to the octopus?”
Will looked up calmly. “He understands me.”
“The octopus looks like he pays taxes.”
“He’s sensitive.”
“He looks cursed.”
Will had laughed then. Really laughed. Head tilted back slightly, shoulders shaking softly.
Mike remembered stopping in the doorway completely. Because moments like that still hit him unexpectedly sometimes. The realization that this was real. That they’d made it here. Not just alive. Happy. Actually happy.
And now they had Ellie. Mike looked over at Will again from beside the hospital bed. “I still remember so vividly how you ignored me for three hours.”
“You bought a stuffed giraffe taller than me.”
“She might’ve liked giraffes.”
“She wasn’t even born, Mike.”
Mike pointed accusingly. “You keep using that argument like it means something.”
“It means everything.”
Ellie shifted again in Will’s arms, making another tiny unhappy sound. Both of them immediately froze. “Oh god.” Mike whispered.
Will looked down quickly. “No, no, sweetheart, you’re okay…”
Mike hovered uselessly beside the bed while Will adjusted the blanket around her tiny body. And there it was again. That fear. Sharp and immediate. Like someone had cracked Mike’s ribs open and left everything important exposed.
Will noticed it instantly.
Because Mike had always worn fear strangely. Quietly. Other people panicked loudly. Mike got still. Too still. Like if he moved too quickly, everything would fall apart around him.
“You can hold her again.” Will said softly.
Mike looked alarmed by the suggestion. “What if I do it wrong?”
“You physically cannot hold a baby incorrectly unless you throw her.”
Mike looked offended. “I’m obviously not gonna throw her.”
“Then you’re fine.”
Mike hesitated. Then carefully, so carefully, he sat back down on the edge of the bed while Will transferred Ellie into his arms.
The second she settled against his chest, Mike stopped breathing. Every single time.
It happened every single time he looked at her. Like his brain still couldn’t process the fact she existed.
Ellie yawned sleepily, tiny fist twitching near her cheek.
Mike immediately looked close to tears again.
Will watched him quietly.
God. Mike loved her so much already. It was written all over him. In the way he held her like something holy. In the way he kept checking her breathing every thirty seconds.
In the terrified look in his eyes every time she made a noise.
Will knew that fear. He felt it too. Maybe even worse. Because part of him still couldn’t shake the feeling that happiness like this wasn’t meant to last. It was stupid.
He knew it was stupid. But growing up the way he had left scars in strange places.
When things were good for too long, Will waited for disaster automatically.
It had been like that since he was a kid. Since the Upside Down. Since Lonnie. Since learning how quickly safety could disappear.
Even during the pregnancy, part of him had stayed afraid.
Not of Ellie. Never Ellie. Just… losing her.
Losing this.
The IVF process had been emotionally exhausting from the start. Not because he doubted they wanted a child. God, they’d wanted one for years. But because wanting something that badly made failure terrifying.
Mike had tried to act calm through most of it. Terribly.
Will still remembered sitting beside him in the clinic waiting room during one appointment while Mike bounced his leg so violently the chairs shook.
“Michael.”
“I’m relaxed.”
“You look like you’re about to throw up.”
“I might.”
Will had smiled slightly despite himself.
Mike immediately pointed at him. “Don’t smile at me right now. This is serious.”
“We’re literally filling out paperwork.”
“Exactly.”
Will laughed quietly.
Mike had looked at him for a second then suddenly gone soft around the edges.
God, that look.
Will would never survive that look. The one full of so much love it became painful.
“You really want this, huh?” Mike had asked softly.
Will blinked. Then nodded once. “Yeah.” he’d whispered.
Mike swallowed hard afterward. Because he wanted it too. More than he knew how to explain. Not because he thought having a child would fix them. Not because he thought it would magically erase everything painful from their lives. But because somewhere over the years, home had started feeling possible. And they wanted someone else to share it with.
They’d chosen Ellie’s name at two in the morning on the living room floor surrounded by baby name books and empty takeout containers.
Mike had been lying on the carpet with his head in Will’s lap while Will flipped lazily through pages. “Absolutely not.”
Will looked down. “What’s wrong with Eleanor?”
“She’d sound like she pays taxes.”
“She probably will someday.”
“She’s not allowed.”
Will smiled faintly.
Mike reached up blindly until his hand found Will’s wrist. “What about Ellie?”
Will went still. The room had gone quiet for a moment after that. Not awkward. Just full.
Because they both knew immediately. El.
Their El. The girl who had changed both their lives before they were even old enough to understand what sacrifice meant. The girl who had given them years they never should’ve gotten.
Will looked down slowly at Mike. “Ellie Joy Wheeler.” he said softly.
They had both agreed they wanted her middle name to be related to Joyce. Joyce had helped Will a lot. Mike knew that. Knew how much it would mean to Will.
And part of him also wanted it to be related to Joyce. Joyce had always been so welcoming to him.
When Mike’s home life wasn’t the best, and whenever his dad was being a dickhead, Joyce had always let him stay at their house, offering Mike a safe place when he needed it most.
Mike’s expression softened instantly. “Yeah?”
Will smiled. “Yeah.”
Back in the hospital room, Mike carefully brushed one finger against Ellie’s tiny hand.
She grabbed it instinctively. Mike made a strangled noise.
Will immediately looked concerned. “What happened?”
“She grabbed me.”
“Yes, Mike. That’s a thing babies do.”
“She knows me.”
“She does not.”
“She does.”
Will laughed under his breath.
Mike stared down at Ellie like she’d personally altered the structure of the universe. “She’s so small.” he whispered again.
Will’s throat tightened. Because she was.
Small enough that Will felt terrified every time someone else held her.
Small enough that Mike had checked the crib in the nursery seventeen times before they left for the hospital because he was convinced something was wrong with it.
Small enough that Will still couldn’t believe they were allowed to take her home eventually.
“How are they just letting us leave with her?” Mike had whispered earlier while signing papers.
Will blinked at him. “What?”
“We don’t know anything.”
“We’re adults.”
“Barely.”
“You’re twenty nine.”
“Definitely not emotionally!” Mike had whispered back urgently.
Will had nearly laughed hard enough to wake Ellie. Now, exhaustion hung heavily over both of them. Will’s entire body ached.
Mike looked like he hadn’t blinked in six hours.
But neither of them wanted to sleep. Because every time they looked at Ellie, they got distracted all over again.
Mike glanced toward Will quietly. “You okay?”
Will nodded automatically.
Mike raised an eyebrow immediately. “Liar.”
Will sighed softly. “I’m just tired.”
Mike’s expression shifted instantly. Gentler.
Softer. He stood carefully, still holding Ellie, before leaning down enough to press a kiss against Will’s forehead. “I’m very proud of you.” he whispered.
Will nearly broke right there. Because Mike said things like that so easily now. Soft things. Loving things. Things teenage Mike would’ve swallowed down out of fear.
Will still remembered being sixteen and wondering if Mike would ever be allowed to love him out loud.
Now Mike did it constantly. Without shame.
Without hesitation. Like breathing.
Will reached up automatically, fingers brushing against Mike’s wrist. Mike looked exhausted. His curls were messy from repeatedly dragging his hands through them, and there were tear tracks still faintly visible beneath his eyes.
“You cried more than I did.” Will murmured softly.
Mike looked immediately defensive. “That’s not true.”
“The nurse brought you tissues.”
“She brought us tissues.”
“She handed you the entire box.”
Mike looked away muttering, “That feels targeted.”
Will smiled tiredly.
Ellie squirmed slightly again. Mike instantly panicked. “What does that mean?”
“It means she moved.”
“But why?”
“Because she’s alive.”
Mike narrowed his eyes suspiciously like Ellie might secretly be plotting against them already.
Will laughed quietly again. God, he loved him. He loved this. Even the fear. Even the exhaustion. Even the overwhelming terror curling beneath every happy moment.
Because underneath all of it was something warm and undeniable: They were doing this together. Not alone. Never alone. That mattered more than anything.
A soft knock sounded against their front door that night, before it opened slowly. Nancy stepped inside carrying. “Wow.” she said immediately. “You both look terrible.” She somehow looked more put together than the two of them, even after giving birth just earlier that morning.
They had used Will’s sperm, and Nancy’s egg for IVF, so at least the baby would still be somewhat related to Mike.
Mike frowned. “Hi to you too.”
Will smiled softly. “Hey.”
Nancy’s entire expression changed the second she saw Ellie awake in Mike’s arms.
Every wall she carried cracked instantly “Oh.” she whispered.
Mike noticed immediately. And just like that, his expression softened too. Because this mattered to Nancy too. More than she admitted out loud. Without her, Ellie wouldn’t exist. That truth sat quietly beneath everything.
Nancy stepped closer slowly. “Can I?” she asked gently.
Mike looked down at Ellie instinctively before carefully standing. “Her head needs support.” he blurted immediately.
Nancy stared at him. “I know how babies work.”
“I’m just saying.”
“You read half a parenting book.”
“It was a very informative half.”
Will snorted.
Nancy rolled her eyes fondly before taking Ellie carefully into her arms. And then she got quiet. Completely quiet.
Will watched her expression soften in a way he hadn’t seen in years.
Nancy looked down at Ellie like she was trying to memorize her. The tiny nose. The freckles.
Mike swallowed hard beside Will.
“She has eyes that look like yours, Mike.” Nancy murmured softly to Mike.
Mike immediately looked emotional again.
“Oh my god, stop saying that.”
“It’s true.”
“She deserves better.”
Nancy looked over at him then. Something gentle passed across her face. “She got you two.” she said simply. “That’s already pretty good.”
Mike actually looked like he might cry again.
Will reached over automatically, taking his hand. Mike squeezed back immediately.
A week into parenthood, Mike Wheeler had developed a very serious condition. Will called it separation anxiety. Mike called it being a responsible father.
The problem was that Mike apparently believed “responsible father” translated directly into never putting Ellie down for more than thirty consecutive seconds.
Which meant that over the past seven days, Will had watched his husband carry their daughter around the house like a tiny, fragile emotional support animal.
Cooking? Ellie strapped against Mike’s chest in one of those baby carriers he’d panic bought at three in the morning. Watching TV? Ellie asleep on his lap while Mike sat completely frozen because “what if she wakes up?” Trying to answer emails? One handed typing while Ellie snored against his shoulder.
At one point, Will had walked into the kitchen and found Mike standing motionless beside the coffee machine because Ellie had finally fallen asleep in his arms and he didn’t want to risk moving.
“You’ve been standing there for ten minutes.”
Mike looked exhausted. “I know.”
“Your coffee’s gone cold.”
“I know.”
“So sit down.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
Mike looked horrified by the question. “Because she’s comfortable.”
Will had laughed so hard he nearly dropped the clean bottles he was putting away.
The arguments had started around day three. Not serious arguments. Never serious.
Just tired, quiet bickering between two men who were equally obsessed with their daughter and equally convinced they were the better option to hold her.
“I held her last.” Mike whispered defensively one evening.
“You held her for four hours.”
“She likes me.”
“She likes warmth and food.”
Mike looked deeply offended. “Wow.”
Will reached for Ellie anyway. Mike turned slightly away instinctively.
“Michael.”
“She just fell asleep.”
“She’s been asleep.”
“She could wake up emotionally.”
“What does that even mean?”
Mike narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know.”
Will eventually got the baby back after threatening to tell Nancy that Mike had cried during a diaper commercial earlier that morning.
Which, in Mike’s defense, had been emotional. Something about “cherishing every moment.” Will still made fun of him for it. But honestly. Will got it. Because every time he looked at Ellie, something inside him twisted painfully with love too.
Sometimes he still woke up terrified this was all temporary. That he’d open his eyes and find himself back in Hawkins at sixteen, scared and lonely and convinced he would never get to grow up properly.
Instead, he’d wake up beside Mike. And down the hall would be Ellie. Their daughter.
Real. Warm. Alive. It felt impossible every single time.
A few nights after bringing Ellie home, Will woke suddenly to an empty bed beside him.
For one terrifying second, panic shot through him. Then he noticed the faint light spilling across the hallway floor. Will sat up slowly, rubbing sleep from his eyes before padding quietly out of the bedroom.
The house was dark except for the dim yellow nightlight glowing softly inside Ellie’s room.
Will slowed near the doorway.And stopped.
Mike sat on the floor beside the crib wearing grey sweatpants and one of Will’s old college hoodies, curls messy from sleep. One arm rested against the mattress while he stared quietly up at Ellie sleeping inside the crib.
He was crying. Not heavily. Not loudly. Just silent tears slipping down his face while he looked at her like he couldn’t believe she existed.
Will stayed in the hallway. Something in his chest ached suddenly. Mike reached through the crib bars carefully, gently touching Ellie’s tiny hand where it rested beside her face.
“You will never be alone as long as you have me.” Mike whispered to her softly. “I promise.” He added on quietly.
Will almost said something then. Almost walked in.But he didn’t.
Because Mike hated crying in front of people. Even now. Even after all these years.
Instead, Will leaned quietly against the hallway wall and watched him for another minute. Watched the way Mike kept checking Ellie’s breathing. Watched the exhausted love written all over his face. Watched him smile shakily when Ellie moved in her sleep.
Then Will went back to bed without a word.
The next morning, he never mentioned it.
Mike came into the kitchen carrying Ellie against his chest while trying to balance a coffee mug in his free hand.
Will looked up from making toast. Mike looked exhausted already. “You slept like three hours.” Will said.
Mike frowned. “Four.”
“You were in Ellie’s room.”
Mike immediately froze. For half a second, Will thought he’d figured it out. But then Mike just looked down guiltily at Ellie. “She made a weird noise.”
“She sighed.”
“You didn’t hear it.”
Will hid his smile by turning back toward the stove. Mike shuffled closer until his chin rested briefly against Will’s shoulder. “You’re making eggs again?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you make them less sad this time?”
Will gasped dramatically. “Rude.”
Mike smiled sleepily against his shoulder.
And then Ellie sneezed. Mike looked up and he started panicking instantly. “Oh my god.” Mike whispered.
Will blinked. “Mike, babies sneeze.”
“But what if..”
“She sneezed.”
“She’s tiny.”
“That does not stop people from sneezing.”
Mike still looked suspicious.
Honestly, Will thought parenthood might actually kill him through stress alone.
That morning was Mike’s first day back at work. Which was apparently the worst thing that had ever happened to him.
Will had known it would be difficult. He just hadn’t realized Mike would stand beside Ellie’s crib for fifteen full minutes staring at her like a Victorian husband leaving for war.
“She’ll survive eight hours without you.”
Mike looked unconvinced. “What if she needs me?”
“She has me.”
“But what if she specifically needs me?”
Will crossed his arms. “You know I helped make her, right?”
Mike sighed heavily before leaning over the crib. Ellie blinked sleepily up at him from beneath her purple blanket. Mike immediately melted. “Oh, come on.” Will muttered affectionately.
Mike gently touched Ellie’s tiny curls that were already starting to show. “I’ll miss you today, okay?” he whispered to her.
Will nearly laughed. “She does not understand English yet.”
“She understands emotionally.”
“That’s not a thing.”
Mike ignored him completely. By the time he actually left the house, he was already twenty minutes late. Will watched through the front window as Mike got halfway to the car, then turned around immediately and came back inside.
Will stared. Mike walked straight to the crib again. “One more goodbye.”
Will laughed loudly this time. “Michael.”
“She looked at me!”
“She was blinking!”
Mike kissed Ellie’s forehead dramatically before finally leaving for real.
Will waited exactly four minutes before his phone buzzed.
Mike: is she okay
Will snorted. He adjusted Ellie against his shoulder before texting back.
Will: yes
Thirty seconds later, he texted again.
Mike: whats she doing
Will: existing
Mike: okay but like specifically
Will smiled helplessly down at his phone.
Over the next few hours, the texts continued relentlessly.
Mike: did she eat
Mike: how much
Mike: was she warm enough after her nap
Mike: did she cry
Mike: can babies cry too quietly
Mike: wait dont answer that
Mike: actually answer that
At one point, Will sent back:
Will: i think you have separation anxiety
Mike: i think you’re judgemental
Will: she is asleep
Mike: send proof
Will actually laughed out loud. Ellie startled slightly against his chest. “Sorry.” Will whispered immediately. God. He loved this.
Even the chaos. Even the exhaustion. Even Mike’s complete psychological breakdown over fatherhood. Especially that, honestly.
Because every text, every anxious question, every terrified glance toward Ellie’s crib, it all came from love. Deep, overwhelming love.
By the time Mike got home that evening, Will heard the front door slam open before keys even properly left the lock. “Babe, I’m home.” Mike called automatically.
“In the living room.” Will answered.
Mike appeared seconds later looking exhausted, tie loosened and curls damp from the rain outside. The second he saw Will, he crossed the room immediately, leaning down to kiss his forehead softly. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“How was work?”
“Horrible.”
Will smiled. “That dramatic?”
“I missed her.”
“You were gone eight hours.”
Mike looked genuinely emotional about it. And then immediately, IMMEDIATELY, he turned toward the hallway. “She’s asleep?” he whispered.
Will laughed softly. “You’re unbelievable.”
Mike was already walking toward Ellie’s room. Will followed slowly behind him, smiling to himself.
Mike pushed open the nursery door carefully. The room glowed softly in the evening light, purple walls warm beneath the fairy lights strung near the bookshelf. Stuffed animals crowded every available surface because Mike apparently thought Ellie needed enough plush toys to survive an apocalypse.
Ellie slept peacefully inside her crib. Mike stopped moving entirely. Will watched from the doorway as his shoulders visibly relaxed.
“There she is.” Mike whispered softly. Like he’d been missing part of himself all day.
Will leaned against the doorframe quietly.
Sometimes he caught Mike looking at Ellie with this stunned expression. Like he still couldn’t understand how they’d gotten here.
Will understood that feeling. Especially tonight. Because tonight their friends were finally meeting Ellie. Dustin. Lucas. Max.
And suddenly, painfully, the absence of someone else felt heavier too.
El.
Will looked toward the framed photo sitting on the nursery shelf. El at nineteen, grinning at the camera while doing a hand heart to whoever was behind it.
Mike had cried putting that photo in here too. Neither of them talked about her constantly anymore. The grief had changed shape over the years. Softer now. Quieter.
But it never really left.
Sometimes Mike still touched the tattoo on his shoulder absentmindedly when he talked about her. “i believe.”
Simple. Small black lettering over his collarbone.
Will remembered when he got it. No big speech. No dramatic explanation. Mike had just come home from the tattoo appointment and quietly said: “She should still be here.”
Will had held him for a long time after that.
Now, watching Mike stare into Ellie’s crib, Will felt that ache again. El should’ve met her. She would’ve loved her.
At exactly five o’clock, the doorbell rang. Mike panicked instantly. “She’s asleep.”
“They’re not burglars, Mike.”
“What if they’re loud?”
“They survived Vecna. I think they can handle indoor voices.”
Mike still looked suspicious as he went to answer the door.
Dustin’s voice immediately echoed through the house. “WHERE IS MY NIECE?”
“She’s not technically your niece.” Mike called back.
“She is emotionally.”
Lucas walked in behind Dustin carrying snacks while Max followed more calmly, rainwater still clinging to her jacket sleeves.
And then all three of them spotted Mike holding Ellie carefully against his chest after bringing her out from the nursery. Everything stopped.
“Oh my god.” Max whispered immediately.
Dustin looked genuinely speechless for once in his life.
Lucas blinked slowly. “She’s… tiny.”
Mike looked absurdly proud. “I know.”
Ellie yawned sleepily in his arms. Dustin physically grabbed Lucas’s arm. “Did you see that?”
“She yawned.”
“She yawned at me specifically.”
Max stepped closer carefully. Her entire expression softened instantly. “She has your eyes.” she murmured to Mike.
Mike groaned dramatically. “Everyone keeps saying that.”
“Because it’s true.” Lucas said.
Dustin leaned forward slightly. “She kinda looks like both of you got put into a blender.”
Mike looked offended. Will burst out laughing.
Then, the arguing came.
Stupid arguing, over two immature people. Dustin and Lucas. They were arguing over who got to hold her first.
“Absolutely not.” Dustin said immediately, pointing across the couch at Lucas. “I got here first.”
“That’s literally not true.” Lucas replied. “I parked first.”
“You spent six minutes trying to parallel park.”
“Because SOMEONE was yelling directions at me.”
“I was helping!”
“You told me to hit a mailbox!”
Mike sat protectively in the armchair nearby with Ellie asleep against his chest while the argument continued in front of him like background noise. Honestly, he looked one inconvenience away from clutching Ellie and sprinting upstairs.
Will sat beside Max on the couch watching the disaster unfold with poorly hidden amusement.
“This is insane.” Max muttered.
“They have literally been arguing back and forth for three minutes.” Will whispered back.
“Over a seven day old baby.”
“She seems to be very popular.”
Across the room, Dustin pointed accusingly at Lucas again.
Mike looked down at Ellie protectively “You’re both making me nervous.”
“We’re perfectly capable adults.” Dustin argued.
“You tried microwaving ramen without water last month.” Max said flatly.
“That happened one time.”
“The bowl melted.”
“It was experimental.”
Will watched Mike’s grip tighten slightly around Ellie. Yep. Definitely protective parent mode. The thing was, Mike trusted their friends completely. But Ellie was still so tiny that every interaction felt life threatening to him. Earlier that afternoon, Mike had nearly had a heart attack watching the pediatrician hold her. The pediatrician. A trained professional.
Now Dustin Henderson was reaching toward her with grabby hands and the expression of an overexcited golden retriever. Absolutely terrifying.
Will sighed softly before making a decision.
While Lucas and Dustin continued bickering loudly over “baby holding fairness laws,” Will gently leaned over toward Mike. “Give her to Max.”
Mike blinked. “What?”
“She’s the only normal person here.”
Max looked deeply pleased by this statement.
Dustin gasped dramatically. “Excuse me?”
“No.” Lucas agreed immediately. “He’s right.”
Dustin looked betrayed.
Mike hesitated for a second before carefully standing up from the armchair. The second Dustin noticed movement, he straightened instantly. “Me first.”
“No, me.” Lucas argued.
And while they continued yelling at each other, Mike quietly walked past both of them and placed Ellie carefully into Max’s arms.
Max froze immediately. Her whole face softened so fast it almost hurt to look at. “Oh, wow.” she whispered.
Ellie squirmed sleepily against her chest, tiny fingers curling near the blanket wrapped around her. Max smiled. And for a second, the room went completely quiet.
Because there was something strangely emotional about seeing Max Mayfield holding Mike and Will’s daughter. After everything. After all of them had survived things they were never supposed to survive.
This felt impossible too.
Dustin and Lucas kept arguing for another few seconds before Dustin finally frowned.
“Wait.”
Lucas blinked. They both turned toward Max simultaneously. Max looked up innocently from the couch with Ellie asleep in her arms.
“Oh, did you guys want something?”
Dustin looked devastated. “You betrayed us.”
Mike sat back down looking deeply satisfied with himself. “You were being annoying.”
Lucas pointed dramatically. “You handed her to the least interested person here!”
Max looked offended. “I’m interested.”
“You looked emotionally detached.”
“That’s just my face.”
Will laughed into his hand. Dustin collapsed back dramatically against the couch cushions. “This is discrimination against us nerds.”
“You are literally holding a bag of cheese puffs right now.” Mike pointed out.
“I can multitask!”
“No, you absolutely cannot. Especially not with my baby.”
Eventually, after another full minute of arguing, Lucas got to hold Ellie first. Mike watched the entire transfer like a nervous bomb technician. “Support her head.”
“I know.”
“Lucas.”
“I know.”
“She’s fragile.”
“I KNOW.”
Lucas settled Ellie carefully against his chest before immediately softening too. Because apparently every person in existence melted upon contact with Ellie wheeler. “She’s so tiny.” Lucas murmured quietly.
Mike’s expression shifted instantly. Like pride physically radiated off him. “I know.” he said again softly.
Ellie blinked sleepily up at Lucas before making a tiny squeaking noise. Dustin physically leaned over the couch trying to get closer. “Oh my god.”
“She made a sound.” Lucas whispered. “She likes me better already.” Lucas added on.
“You’ve held her for four seconds.” Dustin said.
“That’s enough time.”
Mike narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Will honestly thought fatherhood had somehow made Mike both softer and more intense simultaneously.
Dustin finally got his turn a few minutes later after nearly vibrating out of his skin with impatience. The second Ellie was placed into his arms, he went completely silent.
Actually silent. The entire room stared.
Max blinked slowly. “Holy shit.”
Dustin ignored her completely.
The person that didn’t? Mike. He glared at her for swearing in front of his baby.
Dustin looked down at Ellie with wide eyes.
“She’s real.” he whispered.
Mike’s expression softened again. “Yeah.”
Dustin adjusted her carefully, suddenly moving with unbelievable gentleness for someone who usually treated life like a contact sport. “She’s got your freckles.” he said quietly to Mike.
Mike immediately looked emotional. Will nudged his knee before he could start crying again. Mike sniffed dramatically. “Everyone keeps saying things.”
“Because you keep looking like you’re about to pass out from love.” Max replied.
“That’s not true.”
It was completely true. The next two hours passed surprisingly peacefully. Ellie slept through most of it.
Dustin took approximately two hundred photos. Lucas kept talking softly to her like she could understand basketball statistics already. Max sat beside Will asking quiet questions about parenthood while Mike hovered nearby like an anxious security guard.
At one point, Dustin looked toward the nursery doorway. “So who bought all the stuffed animals?”
Will immediately pointed at Mike. Mike looked defensive. “She needed options.”
“There’s a giant cow in there.”
“She might like cows.”
“There’s also an octopus that looks haunted.” Max added on.
Will burst out laughing.
Dustin nodded immediately. “THANK YOU. I thought it was just me.”
“The octopus stays.” Mike said firmly.
“It looks like it knows secrets.”
“It’s comforting.”
“It looks tax evasive.”
Ellie startled slightly in Dustin’s arms at the loud voices. Immediately, every person in the room froze. Dustin looked horrified. “Oh my god, I broke the baby.”
“You didn’t break the baby.” Will reassured quickly. Mostly directed to Mike. He already looked stressed.
Ellie’s face scrunched up for one terrible second like she might cry, then she settled again.
The entire room exhaled. Mike sat down heavily against the armchair. “I think I lost ten years off my life.”
“You’re dramatic.” Max muttered.
“She made the face.”
“The face?”
“The crying face.”
“Oh, yeah.” Lucas agreed seriously. “That face is terrifying.”
Will watched them quietly for a second His friends. His non biological family. All sitting here arguing softly over his daughter. It hit him suddenly all over again. This life. This strange, beautiful little life they’d somehow built from the ruins of everything else.
For years, Will genuinely hadn’t believed he’d get this far. Not really. Back then, when they were younger, the future had always felt blurry. Temporary. Now there was Ellie.
Now there were grocery lists on the fridge and tiny socks in the laundry and Mike crying over diaper commercials.
Somehow, despite everything, they’d made it here. At around seven, Dustin finally stood with a dramatic sigh. “Well. I suppose we should leave the exhausted fathers alone.”
“Correction, you guys are absolutely exhausting us fathers.” Mike corrected.
Lucas grabbed his jacket while Max leaned down toward Ellie one last time. “Bye, tiny Wheeler.”
Ellie sneezed suddenly. Max blinked. Mike panicked instantly. “Was that a normal sneeze?” Will groaned loudly.
The door finally shut behind their friends a few minutes later, leaving the house suddenly quiet again. Soft. Warm.
Will carefully picked Ellie up from where Mike had settled her in the bassinet beside the couch. Immediately, Mike looked offended. “Hey.”
Will ignored him completely. Mike narrowed his eyes. Will sat down on the couch with Ellie tucked comfortably against his chest while Mike continued staring at him dramatically from the armchair. Will didn’t even look up. “You’re glaring.”
“You stole my baby.”
“She’s also my baby.”
“She was comfortable with me.”
“She’s asleep.”
“She likes me more.”
Will finally glanced over lazily. “You are jealous of your husband holding his own child.”
Mike crossed his arms. “Maybe.”
Will smiled smugly before looking back down at Ellie. Honestly? He could deal with Mike sulking for a little while. Especially because Mike looked kind of adorable doing it.
And then Ellie started crying. Not normal crying. Not tiny sleepy whining. Full meltdown. Her entire face turned red instantly, tiny fists shaking while she screamed loud enough to make both Mike and Will sit upright immediately. “Oh my god.” Mike whispered.
Will frowned, adjusting her carefully against his chest. “Hey, hey, it’s okay…”
Ellie cried harder.
Mike was already standing. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was she too warm?”
“I don’t think so?”
“Too cold?”
“She’s not cold.”
“Hungry?”
“She ate twenty minutes ago.”
Ellie let out another heartbreaking wail. Mike looked physically distressed by the sound.
“Okay, nope, I hate this.”
Will stood up slowly, bouncing Ellie gently while pacing near the couch. Usually that worked. Usually she calmed down eventually once she was moving. Not this time. Ellie cried harder.
Mike immediately took her from Will’s arms.
“Okay, okay, I got her.” Still crying. Mike’s panic visibly increased. “She’s never cried this long.”
“It’s been like thirty seconds.”
“Thirty horrible seconds.”
Will rubbed tiredly at his face while Ellie continued screaming between them.
Mike held her carefully against his shoulder, pacing now too. “Hey, sweetheart… hey…”
Nothing worked. Rocking. Bouncing. Soft talking. Walking around the living room.
Ellie just kept crying.
Will’s stomach twisted anxiously. “What if something’s wrong?”
Mike stopped suddenly. His expression shifted. Not panic exactly. Realisation.
“Oh.” he said quietly.
Will blinked. “What?”
Mike looked down at Ellie carefully. “I think she’s overwhelmed.”
“What?”
“She’s been held and passed around all night.”
Will frowned slightly.
Mike bounced Ellie gently again, softer this time. “Think about it.” he murmured quietly. “Different people holding her. Different voices. New smells. She’s only a week old.”
Will stared at him for a second. And honestly? That… actually made sense.
Mike looked heartbreakingly concerned as he brushed a hand gently over Ellie’s curls.
“She’s probably exhausted.” Like he felt guilty for letting too many people hold her.
Will stepped closer. “Mike, that’s not your fault.”
“I know, I just…” He swallowed hard while Ellie cried against his shoulder. “She’s tiny.”
There it was again. That fear. That constant terrified love living permanently inside Mike now.
Will touched his arm gently. “You’re a good dad, you know.”
Mike looked down at Ellie immediately. Like he couldn’t quite believe that yet.
Ellie’s crying slowly started softening after a few more minutes of pacing. Still upset. Still hiccuping sadly. But calmer.
Mike exhaled shakily. “There you go.” he whispered softly. “That’s my girl.”
Will watched him quietly. God. There were moments now where Mike looked so much like a father it physically hurt.
Not Ted. Never Ted.
Softer. Warmer. Present. Everything Mike had once been terrified he wouldn’t become.
Eventually Ellie fully settled against Mike’s chest, exhausted from crying.
Mike looked equally exhausted himself.
Will smiled slightly. “You gonna let me hold her again tonight?”
Mike clutched Ellie protectively. “No.”
Later that night, the house finally settled. Not completely quiet. Never completely quiet anymore. The baby monitor crackled softly from the kitchen counter downstairs. The dishwasher hummed faintly somewhere in the background. Rain still tapped gently against the windows outside, softer now than before. But compared to earlier? It felt peaceful.
Will stepped out of the bathroom in sweatpants and one of Mike’s old Hellfire Club shirts, towel drying his damp curls absently as he walked down the hallway.
He was exhausted. Not normal tired. New parent tired. The kind that sat heavy behind your eyes and made every surface in the house look weirdly comfortable enough to sleep on.
Still, before bed, he wanted to check on Ellie one more time. Just one quick look. Will padded quietly toward the nursery, the soft purple nightlight glowing beneath the slightly open door.
He smiled a little automatically. The room had become his favorite place in the house somehow. The purple walls. The tiny socks folded impossibly small in drawers. The mountain of stuffed animals Mike had bought like he was preparing Ellie for emotional warfare. The mobile turning slowly above the crib.
Will pushed the nursery door open gently. And froze. The crib was empty. For one horrible second, Will’s brain completely stopped functioning. No. No no no. Panic hit instantly. Violent and sharp. “Mike?” he called immediately, heartbeat spiking. Nothing.
Will’s stomach dropped hard enough to make him dizzy. The blanket inside the crib was slightly pushed aside like someone had picked Ellie up recently. Every terrible possibility slammed into him all at once. Did Mike take her downstairs? Did something happen? Did she get taken? “Mike?” Will called again, louder this time. Still nothing.
Will was already moving before he fully thought it through, panic making his chest tight and painful as he hurried down the hallway toward their bedroom. He shoved the door open quickly, and stopped so suddenly he nearly laughed from relief. Oh.
Oh.
Mike was asleep sprawled across their bed on top of the blankets, still wearing jeans and a hoodie, one arm curled carefully around Ellie where she slept against his chest.
Both of them were completely passed out.
Ellie’s tiny face was tucked against Mike’s shoulder, one little fist gripping loosely onto the fabric of his hoodie.
And Mike, even asleep, he held her gently. Carefully. Protectively. Like his body knew she was there even unconscious.
Will just stood in the doorway for a moment staring at them. His panic melted so quickly it left him lightheaded. “Oh my god.” he whispered softly. The sight physically hurt.
Mike looked peaceful. Not anxious. Not scared. Just happy. Will leaned quietly against the doorframe, smiling helplessly to himself. God. He loved them so much.
He pulled his phone from his pocket carefully. One picture. Then another. Mike’s curls were a complete mess, his mouth slightly open in sleep, Ellie curled impossibly tiny against him. It was the cutest thing Will had ever seen in his entire life.
Yep. That was absolutely becoming his new lockscreen.
Will looked down at the photo with a quiet smile before slipping his phone away again.
He let them sleep for a little while longer. Honestly, they both needed it. Especially Mike.
Mike had spent the entire week running almost entirely on caffeine, anxiety, and overwhelming love. Will didn’t think he’d fully relaxed once since Ellie was born. Even now, asleep, his hand still rested protectively over her back.
After another twenty minutes, Will finally stepped closer to the bed. As adorable as this was, Ellie wouldn’t sleep properly like this all night. And if Ellie didn’t sleep properly, nobody slept properly. Which usually resulted in a very miserable next morning.
Very carefully, Will leaned down. Mike didn’t stir. Ellie made a tiny sleepy noise as Will gently lifted her from Mike’s chest. For one terrifying second, Will thought Mike might wake up immediately from the missing weight alone. Instead, Mike only shifted slightly in his sleep, brows furrowing faintly before relaxing again.
Will smiled softly. “You’re ridiculous.” he whispered affectionately.
Ellie stayed asleep against Will’s shoulder while he carried her carefully down the hallway toward the nursery. The room glowed softly in the dark.
Will settled her gently into the crib, adjusting the blanket around her tiny body before standing there for another minute just watching her breathe.
Still surreal. A week later and it still felt surreal. Their daughter. Sometimes he still expected to wake up and lose this somehow.
But Ellie sighed softly in her sleep, tiny curls sticking up everywhere, and Will felt something warm settle in his chest again.
Real. She was real. Will quietly left the nursery and returned to the bedroom.
Mike was still asleep exactly where he’d left him. Curled slightly toward the empty space where Ellie had been.
Honestly, it was pathetic. Adorable. But pathetic.
Will climbed onto the mattress beside him carefully before brushing fingers gently through Mike’s curls. “Mike.” he whispered softly.
No response.
Will smiled. “Baby.”
Mike made a sleepy noise.
“There you are.” Will murmured.
Mike blinked slowly awake, visibly confused.
For a second, he just stared blearily at Will like he couldn’t fully process where he was.
Then immediately he reached for him. Will melted a little. Mike grabbed lightly onto the front of Will’s shirt, still half asleep, eyes barely open.
“Hi.” Will whispered softly.
Mike frowned sleepily. “Mm.” Very articulate.
Will brushed his thumb gently beneath Mike’s eye. “You fell asleep.”
Mike looked deeply offended by this accusation despite barely being conscious.
Then suddenly his expression changed. Ellie.
“Where’s the baby?” he asked instantly, voice rough and sleep filled.
Will smiled softly. “She’s in her crib.”
Mike blinked slowly. “She okay?”
“She’s fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Mike relaxed immediately at Will’s tone alone. Still holding onto Will’s shirt. Still half asleep. Will looked down at him fondly.
“You’re still wearing jeans.”
Mike made another quiet noise that might’ve been disagreement.
“Come on, baby.” Will whispered gently. “Get into your pyjamas, then you can sleep properly.”
Mike looked genuinely devastated by this suggestion. “Tired.”
“I know.”
“Don’t wanna move.”
Will smiled helplessly. “You’ll be uncomfortable tomorrow.”
Mike buried his face briefly against Will’s stomach like that somehow solved the problem.
Will laughed quietly. “Michael.”
After another full minute of negotiation, Mike finally pushed himself upright with the dramatic exhaustion of a man returning from war.
Will watched fondly while Mike changed slowly into sweatpants and an old t shirt, moving like every limb weighed fifty pounds. He had nearly fell over 5 times, just from trying to get his sleep short on. The second he finished changing, he practically collapsed face first back onto the mattress.
Will snorted softly. “You’re unbelievable.”
Mike already looked half asleep again. Will pulled the blankets over him carefully.
Immediately, Mike relaxed deeper into the pillows.
God. Will’s chest hurt suddenly. Because Mike looked safe. Comfortable. Loved. Things neither of them had gotten enough of growing up.
Will turned off the bedside lamp before climbing into bed beside him. The second he settled beneath the blankets, Mike rolled toward him automatically. Instinctive. Sleepy.
He tucked himself against Will’s side, one arm wrapping loosely around his waist while his forehead pressed against Will’s shoulder.
Will immediately wrapped an arm around him too. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Rain tapped softly against the windows. The baby monitor crackled quietly beside the bed. Down the hallway, Ellie slept safely in her crib surrounded by stuffed animals and soft purple light.
Mike mumbled something tiredly against Will’s shoulder.
“What?” Will whispered.
Mike’s eyes stayed closed. “I love you.”
Will’s expression softened instantly. He pressed a gentle kiss into Mike’s curls. “I love you too.”
And for the first time all week, wrapped around each other in the quiet dark while their daughter slept safely nearby, they both finally fell asleep properly.