Chapter Text
It had been four years since William Byers was found.
Or rather, his body.
Mike still remembered that day like it was yesterday. Maybe it was. Every night for four years, nightmares plagued him as he tried to sleep through the night. It was the same nightmare every night. One where Mike was screaming, and chasing after Will’s disappearing figure. He hadn’t gotten a solid night of sleep in who knows how long.
Jane was constantly worried about him, even during that awkward period where the only coherent things they could say to each other was “Hi.” She’d, to quote Max, “dumped his ass one last time.”
… Strangely, it didn’t bother Mike as much as he tried to display, breaking up with Jane. They were still something bordering on friends, tentatively dipping into family almost. Very close, now that both of them had evened out. Everyone was still mourning, no matter how long ago Will had–
Mike shook his head to try to clear those thoughts. Whenever his racing mind turned to the quarry that November 9th, a feeling resemblant of barbed wire closing around his neck began to tear at his throat.
Looking up at the Wheeler house, Mike sighed. He focused on the patter of Holly and her friends’ feet as they giggled and ran downstairs, about to leave for school, young and careless.
Suddenly, Mike’s head let out a throb and his ears began to ring. He winced and curled up, pressing his hands to his ears in an attempt to block out the noise that sounded like… a clock chiming?
His brows furrowed through the pounding of his head. The Wheeler’s only clock had broken several years ago. Ted had bought a digital alarm clock for each of the kids’ rooms, complaining about the cost, but it did help Mike stay on task. Mostly. But it never chimed. Only beeped in an incessant, droning way until Mike rolled over and stopped it.
As soon as it started, it stopped. Letting out an exhale, Mike swallowed, and something metallic slid down his throat.
A warmth, then a trickling sensation, filled his left nostril. Wiping his nose, Mike stiffened when he pulled away to a fresh stain of blood on his sweater sleeve.
“Jesus,” Mike muttered. Was he getting sick or something? Should he go to school today?
Pulling his Walkman over his ears, distracting himself with the familiar croon of David Bowie, Mike hoisted himself from his bed, slamming the door behind him, unnoticing of the lightbulb that flickered when he left.
–
The Hawkins high lunchroom was bustling, smelling of B.O. and burnt chicken nuggets.
“I’m telling you, dude,” Dustin exclaimed, waving his hands in frustration. “Those football meatheads? Don’t have any creativity. It’s always the same damn insults.”
Lucas eyed Dustin’s ripped Hellfire t-shirt, raising one eyebrow. “And that shirt helped you in that department?”
Dustin scoffed. “It’s not my fault those mouth breathers trip over themselves to follow some religion that doesn’t even make sense scientifically. I mean, the chances of having just one God? If there was a divine figure, there would definitely be more than one–”
“Dude.”
Mike laughed over his mushy potato salad.
“Hey, guys.” Her bushy ginger hair tousled from the wind as she skateboarded, Max slid in beside Lucas. He scooted closer to her instantly, and Mike watched as they exchanged a gooey look.
Jane was in step with Max, her hair in waves and pinned at the back, a plaid dress framing her pale legs. She sat down politely next to Dustin, who grinned at her. They began talking animatedly, and Mike was alone now, despite being next to four other people.
He felt a small thing twist in his stomach. Not jealousy. He’d rather eat all of the soggy, probably expired potato salad than date anyone here (sorry Jane), but still. That didn’t mean he was averse to the idea of dating in general.
Will’s smiling face drifted through his head, all rounded cheeks and soft hair, and Mike felt an uncomfortable feeling tighten in him. A small, terrible part of him wondered what Will would look like now, if he was still–
A shuddering breath escaped Mike’s lips, and he felt something small skitter across his wrist.
Looking down, Mike saw a black widow perched on his arm.
With a choke, Mike flung the spider off of his arm in the quickest movement he’d ever made. He watched in horror as it landed on Jane’s face, and instead of her shrieking and flicking it away, she stayed completely still as spiders began to spill from her eyes like tears. She stared directly at Mike as blood began to stream from her eyes and mingle with the spiders, until everything was blurred and Mike couldn’t distinguish alive from dead.
Jane began to speak in a voice much, much deeper than her own.
“What have you done, Michael.”
Mike scrambled backwards as Max, Lucas and Dustin all turned to him, eyes also pouring out blood and black widows.
The world began to spin, twisting into a dark spotlight that rested horrifyingly on a familiar face. Will was staring at him, both eyes gone, stalking towards him in an inhuman way.
“Mike.” Will’s voice was the same coming from Jane’s mouth, but Mike could have sworn that he heard a voice choking out of Will’s mouth behind the snarl. It sounded… fearful. Like Will.
Phantom-Will seemed to be fighting a war inside his own head as he took a step, then stopped as if frozen in time. His face contorted, before he called in a much softer voice, fully the Will he knew– “Mike…”
Suddenly, everything in the hellscape that used to be the lunchroom dissolved into dust. Mike felt faint, and grabbed wildly for a hold before he collapsed.
“Mike. Mike!”
Jane was shaking his shoulders, leaning over Dustin, who looked calm but had a fear flickering behind his eyes. Lucas and Max watched warily as Mike slowly forced himself back to normal. The clatter of the lunchroom was still bright and cheery, and Mike felt a sudden cold, stabbing fear trickle down his back.
Mike’s eyes raked over Jane's smooth face. No traces of blood, or any kind of arachnid. Just freckles and a slight red tint as she realized her position straddled over Dustin. He didn't seem to mind, though, subtly shifting his hips to press against Jane's waist. Hastily leaning back, she explained carefully.
"Your eyes were rolled back in your head, and your nose was bleeding," Jane explained, glancing around the cafeteria before lowering her voice, "like mine when I– had my powers."
Mike nodded, dazed. Her powers. When they first found her in the woods looking for Will, no one knew of her hidden talents, and now that they were gone, the party intended to keep it that way. Max had nearly snitched to Billy once, and now he eyed Jane cautiously every time she was over at Max's, like a fragile thing about to break from insanity.
As Mike raised a hand to wipe away the blood, Lucas spoke up. "That's… kinda fuckin' weird, dude. Patrick McKinney- y'know, from the basketball team–"
The table nodded in muted agreement. Patrick was part of the group that had relentlessly bullied the party since freshman year, so at the jarring announcement of his death (especially after immediately following Chrissy Cunningham's and Fred Benson's identical fates) they'd felt remorse, but then their bruises from getting shoved against lockers by the jocks had begun to sting and the grief was mostly over.
“–Well, this is almost exactly what happened to him, like, 24 hours before he died.” Lucas spoke carefully, like Mike was a dog who was about to bite. “Like, to the letter. I was on the basketball team with the guy, and even though he was a douche, he talked to me. I guess I was the only one who would listen. He was having nosebleeds, weird ‘trances’, nightmares, headaches, shit like that.”
Mike shivered. “Y–yeah. I have been having nightmares, but they’re not– exactly a new occurrence.”
Jane’s doe eyes were teary, and she rubbed the spot where 011 was tattooed on her wrist. It was a habit of hers, when she was anxious.
Dustin’s brows were furrowed. “Yeah… and when Eddie was telling me about Chrissy’s death, he described it as a ‘trance’, of sorts. Specifically that her eyes were rolled back.”
Max let out a bitter chuckle. “Nobody believed him, of course.”
Dustin gave her a hurt look. “I did!”
Max shrugged, and though she tried to hide it, Mike could tell she was shaken up too. “Well, what does that tell us? That Mike is gonna die in the next hour? From what Eddie said, it seemed like there was no way to reverse it once Chrissy was, y’know, ‘levitating off of the ground’ and shit.”
The table seemed to still amongst the chaos as Max’s biting words settled on them.
“Don’t say that,” Jane said in a watery voice, turning to Mike. “You will not die.”
“I mean, I’ll try not to?” Mike joked, but his hands were trembling.
Dustin leaned back, his breath coming out uneven. “If only we could talk to Eddie now,” he muttered. “Can’t believe he just… left like that. No warning or anything.”
Mike felt sympathy leech into his chest. Dustin and Eddie had been close. He knew how much it hurt Dustin that somebody who Dustin admired and cared about had just left him high and dry.
“Okay, but we need to do something,” Jane said urgently. “What do we know? Dustin, paper.”
Dustin hurriedly pulled his notebook from his backpack and ripped a page out, clamping a pen under his thumb as he handed it to Jane. She grabbed it, smiling thankfully (which seemed to make Dustin preen), and began to scribble.
“Assuming Eddie was correct, Chrissy was in a trance when she died. And was levitating. The symptoms we know of are nosebleeds, headaches, trances where interactions from reality, at least physically, don’t carry over. And nightmares.” Jane stuck her tongue out as she wrote. Looking up at Mike, she added, “Mike, Nancy was working with Fred Benson on the paper, maybe she knows something. Ask her after school today. And I–” a determined light filled Jane’s eyes. “I am going to find Eddie.”
Mike and Lucas exchanged a look.
“Um. If you don’t mind me asking,” Max said slowly. “How?”
Jane looked at Max, face unreadable. “With the bath, of course.”
“But you don’t have your powers. You haven’t, since you closed that gate in the lab.” Lucas looked confused, and Mike couldn’t blame him.
The gate. To the Upside Down. Mike’s head still spun from Dustin’s patchwork explanation of the alternate dimension. All he knew was it was a dark, nefarious copy of Hawkins, where monsters lurked. One had somehow gotten loose in Hawkins, and at the ripe age of 13, the Party and its members had tracked it to Hawkins lab and found the rift in the Upside Down.
After a series of tiring battles with various demodogs which had gotten them virtually nowhere, Jane– El at the time– had exhausted the last of her power supply closing the rift once and for all.
Mike had told no one, but after Jane had closed the gate and collapsed into Hopper’s arms, he could have sworn he heard crying. A young boy.
When they first found Jane, soaking and frail in the woods, he’d felt his insides leap. He’d thought that they finally did it, finally found Will.
He wondered what would have been different if they had found Will. The Upside Down would probably still be thriving, and they’d all be dead.
After everything, as Jane shoveled Eggos into her mouth in the warmth of Mike’s basement, with the Party silenced for once as they recounted the events leading up to that moment, his stomach felt funny to think of Will, essentially, sacrificing himself for the Party. It felt even worse to think of Will, only just fresh out of 6th grade, unknowingly leading them to Jane through dying and ending whatever demonic entities that were terrorizing Hawkins.
Mike didn’t like going into those woods after that.
Jane was talking when Mike drifted back into the conversation. “...Yes, but I know that if I try, I can do it. We have to, for Mike.” Jane squeezed Mike’s hand, which was laid out on the table, gripping his lunch tray, now left untouched.
“Pap– Dr. Brenner, he said, if I ever lose touch with my powers, remembering my good memories can essentially jumpstart them.” Jane breathed in, her eyes fluttering shut. “I… tried once before. I think he intended for me to think about the lab, which is what I tried, but… nothing except my lessons each day came up.”
Mike rubbed his temples, his throat closing up again.
“Hey, Wheeler,” Max stared at him, blue eyes crinkled in a determined look. “We’re not gonna let you die, okay.”
“...Okay.” Mike choked out around the lump in his throat.
Dustin nodded in resolve. “Yeah. You can’t die on us now. Not after everything. We’re about to graduate, for fuck’s sake!”
Mike laughed, but it came out all wrong, like a sob.
Lucas joined in. “We’ll find a way to fix this. You’re the heart of all of us. You know how many friendships you’ve saved over the years?”
Distantly, Mike heard a different voice repeat the same words to him. Sparkling hazel eyes. Mole on his right cheek. Brown hair. “You’re the heart, Mike.”
The bell signifying the end of lunch blared out into the din of the cafeteria, causing a wave of students to exit and leave the room in a staggering quiet.
"Okay, we can't leave now- Lucas, Max and I have a super important meeting about some college shit," Dustin groaned, running a hand through his curls. "They will get super pissed if we miss it. Mike, when did your symptoms start?"
"This morning," Mike confirmed, Dustin nodding.
"That leaves us maybe twenty more hours until your hypothetical death. If we skip right after our meeting, we can make Jane's bath. I know that Hopper keeps a bunch of salt laying around the police station in case we ever needed it again."
"Okay. So that's our plan?" Lucas clarified. "We still have a whole period til our meeting. That's a whole hour of Mike's time."
"Mike and Jane could go make the bath right now," Max suggested. She subconsciously twisted her hair around her wrist, then let it fall down her back. "I can cover for Jane in science- Mr. Clarke loves her- and Mrs. Lafayette is too old to notice Mike being gone anyways. Then it's free period, so win-win."
Dustin nodded grimly. "Sounds good to me."
"So we'll see you guys soon," Lucas stated, then mumbled, "We are so late for class right now."
"Let's go, slowpokes! Times a-wastin'!"
As the rest of the Party got up and sprinted for class, Jane grabbed Mike’s arm.
She rummaged in her pocket for something, then pressed it into Mike's hand.
Looking down at it, Mike saw that it was a cassette tape. There was a worn label on it, and scribbled on it was "To Mike". Underneath it, a word was smudged out in black ink, but he could deduce from the name next to it who it was from. "---- Will".
There was a small sketch of a cleric and a paladin, just the silhouettes, next to the words.
"Jon found this in Will's closet when he and Joyce were cleaning the house. We thought you should have it."
A sharp pang of longing pierced through Mike's heart, cutting through the hollow place where Will had once resided.
"T-" Mike's breath hitched. Jane's sad eyes were watching him, and she leaned up and kissed his cheek. There was nothing romantic there, only pure, innocent love. He suddenly wanted to apologize, for everything. For being a shitty boyfriend. For being a shitty friend. He might never get to say it again. "Thank you, Jane."
She smiled knowingly. "Y'know, we would have been siblings."
"Yeah," Mike murmured. The two most important people in his life (besides Nancy and Holly, of course) related. Hopper and Joyce had married shortly after eighth grade had ended for the Party, making Jane and Jonathan siblings.
"I'll meet you outside."
Mike opened his mouth, wanting to say something. He didn't know what it was. But then she was gone, leaving the faint wind of her perfume that she and Max had picked out behind her.
Mike slid the tape into his Walkman, and the intro to "Purple Rain" began to play in his headphones.
Letting the music wash over him as a single tear slid down his cheek, Mike walked numbly to the bike rack, thinking of nothing except Will the whole way.