Chapter Text
It was 1999, and the streets of Boston were cold enough that the coffee in Mike Wheeler’s hand was already losing its warmth.
At twenty-nine, Mike had built a successful career as a writer. He was on his way to the final meeting before the release of his fifth novel, walking alone through the city with a paper cup in one hand and a folder tucked under his arm.
Life had taken all of them in different directions after 1989, when they finally left Hawkins behind.
Lucas had gone on to have a successful basketball career. Dustin had been accepted into MIT and ended up moving farther away than any of them. Jane followed him without hesitation.
Max, somehow, had become a photographer for a popular local magazine, eventually leaving behind the auto shop she’d opened years ago.
As for Will…
Mike didn’t know much.
The last time he’d seen him was at Max and Lucas’s baby shower for their son, Teo.
For a while after leaving Hawkins, they’d made an effort to stay connected. Monthly get-togethers, late-night calls over their old walkie-talkies, the occasional weekend trip.
Then Will started pulling away.
He stopped showing up as often. The calls became less frequent. Every update Mike heard about him came secondhand through someone else.
Had he asked about Will?
Of course he had.
At first.
But even Max would only shrug and say, “I don’t know much. I saw him recently, but that’s about it.”
Mike had always known she was lying.
Will visited Jane whenever he could. Sometimes he came into the city. There was no way he wasn’t still seeing his closest friends.
Eventually, Mike stopped asking.
Then he stopped expecting answers.
As far as he knew, Will’s paintings were being exhibited in some pretentious art gallery.
That was all.
Before he realized it, he’d reached the building.
The Nokia in his pocket suddenly began to ring.
Balancing his coffee and folder awkwardly against one arm, Mike fumbled for the phone and answered.
“Hello?”
“May I speak with Michael Wheeler?” a woman asked from the other end of the line.
“This is Michael.”
“Mr. Wheeler, I’m calling from Massachusetts General Hospital. Lucas Sinclair was admitted earlier today following a serious car accident. You are listed as one of his emergency contacts.”
For a moment, Mike forgot how to breathe.
“We need an authorized adult present to make medical decisions. Would you be able to come in?”
The sounds of the city faded into something distant and distorted.
The woman kept speaking, explaining something he couldn’t fully process, but her voice was the only thing keeping him anchored.
“Yes,” he heard himself say. “I’m coming.”
The call ended.
Mike turned around and immediately headed back down the steps he’d just climbed.
His manager answered on the second ring.
“There was an accident,” Mike blurted out. “Lucas is in the hospital. I can’t make the meeting.”
He hung up before the other man could respond.
The nearest taxi stand was several blocks away.
By the time he reached it, cold sweat was already gathering at the back of his neck. Every second felt unbearable. Every red light, every passing stranger, every delayed car seemed designed to keep him from getting there.
When no taxi stopped, he kept moving.
He ran.
The entire way, the same desperate thought repeated itself over and over again.
Please.
He wasn’t sure who he was talking to anymore.
Only that he needed someone to listen.
After nearly fifteen minutes of running through unfamiliar hallways and stopping every few steps to ask for directions, Mike finally found the emergency department.
The receptionist pointed him toward a waiting area near the operating rooms.
A doctor was standing there, speaking quietly with a man holding a sleeping toddler.
Mike barely managed to catch his breath before approaching.
“Are you Michael Wheeler?”
The doctor spoke before Mike had the chance to say anything.
Mike nodded.
“Lucas Sinclair and his wife, Max Mayfield, are both in emergency surgery.”
His fingers immediately found their way into his hair.
Max.
Max was here too.
His thoughts scrambled together.
Lucas. Max. A car accident.
Teo.
His stomach dropped.
“There was a child with them, wasn’t there?” he asked quickly. “About two years old?”
The doctor’s expression softened.
“You know the family as well?”
Mike nodded again.
“Yes, there was a child in the vehicle. Fortunately, he wasn’t seriously injured. He’s alright.”
The doctor gestured toward the row of chairs nearby.
“He’s with him.”
Mike turned.
And there he was.
Will.
Teo was asleep in his arms.
Tear tracks still marked his cheeks.
Will stared down at his shoes, his grip tightening slightly around the child. His eyes were red. His lips looked dry and cracked.
He never looked up.
“Do you know him?” the doctor asked.
Mike hesitated before nodding.
Did he?
After all these years, it felt like all he really knew about Will anymore was his name.
“I’ll come get you both once the surgery is over,” the doctor said before walking away.
Will still didn’t look at him.
Mike lowered himself into a chair, leaving an empty seat between them.
The next hour and a half passed in silence.
There wasn’t much either of them could have said.
The harsh hospital lights slowly began to blur together. Whether it was exhaustion or shock, Mike couldn’t tell.
Then the operating room doors finally opened.
He was on his feet immediately.
The sudden movement made his head spin.
The doctor stepped into the waiting area and looked between them.
“This probably isn’t the best place to discuss everything,” he said. “Why don’t we talk in my office?”
Mike glanced toward Will.
Will was already trying to stand, carefully shifting Teo’s weight in his arms.
Before he could manage it, Mike stepped forward.
Without asking.
Without thinking.
He gently took Teo from him.
Awkwardly, Mike adjusted Teo against his chest, one arm supporting the child’s legs while the other settled across his back.
Will stood.
He didn’t thank him.
Didn’t say anything.
Didn’t look at him.
“The surgery was successful,” the doctor began once they were seated in his office. “But both patients remain unconscious. The next forty-eight hours will be critical.”
Silence settled over the room.
“We can’t make any guarantees yet,” he continued. “Right now, all we can do is wait.”
His gaze shifted to Teo, still asleep in Mike’s arms.
“As for the child, our recommendation would be to keep him in a familiar environment for the time being.”
Mike frowned.
“What about their families? Can’t Lucas’s parents come? Or Max’s?”
“They can,” the doctor said. “But moving him to another state immediately after a traumatic event like this may do more harm than good.”
He folded his hands on the desk.
“Both of you are listed as emergency contacts, and you live locally. For now, this is the most stable option.”
The silence that followed felt impossibly heavy.
Mike looked down at Teo.
The realization hit him all at once.
Teo wasn’t going home to his parents tonight.
Slowly, he glanced toward Will.
Will still hadn’t spoken.
His eyes remained fixed on his trembling hands.
Mike couldn’t tell if he was angry, devastated, or simply uncomfortable being in the same room with him.
Finally, Mike looked back at the doctor.
“I can take care of him.”
The words left him before he could think too hard about them.
“I can clear my schedule. Postpone work. Whatever’s necessary.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
Mike froze.
It was the first time Will had spoken since he’d arrived.
“It’s not your responsibility,” Will said quietly. “I’ve spent more time with Teo. I think it would make more sense if I took care of him.”
Will’s gaze shifted in Mike’s direction.
Not to look at him.
To look at Teo.
“You can take time off work?” he asked quietly. “Last I heard, you were busy with book releases.”
Mike almost laughed at that.
Last I heard.
As if either of them knew anything about the other’s life anymore.
“What about you?” Mike asked. “Don’t you have an exhibition right now?”
For the first time, Will actually looked at him.
There was genuine surprise in his expression.
You knew that?
The question was written all over his face.
A pointed cough pulled both of their attention back to the doctor.
“If you’d like my opinion,” he said, “working together would probably be the most practical solution. One of you knows the child well. The other has the flexibility to take time off.”
He glanced toward the file on his desk.
“We’ll know more within forty-eight hours.”
Will and Mike looked at each other.
Really looked at each other.
Mike couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.
Afterward, there were forms to fill out.
Conversations with social services.
Signatures.
Paperwork.
Everything blurred together.
By the time they finally stepped outside, night had completely settled over the city.
The cold hit them immediately.
Mike pulled off his jacket and draped it carefully over Teo.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then—
“What do we do now?”
Will’s voice was barely above a whisper.
His eyes remained fixed on the dark sky overhead.
Mike swallowed.
“We could go to my place.”
The suggestion lingered between them.
“It’s close to the hospital,” he added after a moment. “There’s no point in you driving all the way home just to come back tomorrow.”
Will stayed silent.
Mike shifted Teo slightly in his arms.
“I can take the couch,” he continued. “You can use my bedroom. It’s only for a couple of days.”
A couple of days.
The words sounded hollow even to him.
“We should stop by Lucas and Max’s house first,” Will said. “We’ll need clothes. Diapers. Whatever Teo might need.”
Mike nodded.
Neither of them said anything else.
The silence followed them all the way to the parking lot.
Mike trailed after Will toward a dark sedan.
Of course he’d driven.
He’d gotten to the hospital before Mike had.
Mike carefully climbed into the backseat with Teo still asleep in his arms while Will slid behind the wheel and started the engine.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Then a burst of static filled the car.
The radio.
“…breaking news tonight. Professional basketball player Lucas Sinclair and his wife were involved in a serious car accident earlier this evening. Both were transported to a local hospital approximately three hours ago. No official update has been released regarding their condition. Could this mark the end of Sinclair’s career? Stay with us as we discuss—”
The radio cut off abruptly.
Will’s hand remained clenched around the dial.
The silence that followed felt even louder than before.
Under the glow of passing streetlights, Mike caught the shine of tears on Will’s cheeks.
Neither of them acknowledged it.
There was nothing to say.
A few minutes later, Teo shifted in Mike’s arms.
“Mama…?”
Mike’s heart lurched.
Carefully, he pulled the toddler back just enough to look at him.
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
“Hey, Teo.”
Will’s voice was gentle.
Immediate.
Certain.
“I’m Uncle Will.”
Teo looked around, still disoriented.
“Mom and Dad are with the doctors right now,” Will continued softly. “They’re resting for a little while.”
The panic slowly faded from the child’s face.
“You’ll be staying with me…”
Will hesitated.
“…and Uncle Mike.”
Teo blinked up at Mike.
“Hi,” Mike said awkwardly.
The child studied him for a moment.
“You’re my dad’s friend who writes stories.”
Mike stared.
Of all the things he’d expected to hear, that wasn’t one of them.
“My mom reads me the one you left for me.”
Something tightened painfully in his chest.
“Oh.”
He swallowed.
“Yeah. That’s me.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of Teo’s mouth.
“Did you like it?” Mike asked.
In the rearview mirror, Will watched the exchange.
For the first time all night, a faint smile crossed his face.
[…]
Eventually, they arrived at Lucas and Max’s house.
Mike got out first and headed straight for the front door.
Locked.
Without thinking too hard about it, he moved to the window beside it and immediately started trying to force it open.
Behind him, Teo watched with great interest.
Then, naturally, began trying to do the same thing.
Will stood there for a few seconds, silently observing the disaster unfold.
Then he walked over to a nearby flowerpot.
Lifted it.
Pulled out a spare key.
A soft click echoed through the porch.
Mike froze.
“Oh.”
Will pushed the door open.
Mike picked Teo back up and followed him inside.
“What are we taking?” he asked, glancing around.
The moment Teo’s feet touched the floor, he bolted toward a pile of toys scattered across the living room rug.
Mike barely noticed.
His attention had already settled on everything else.
The toys.
The crooked couch cushions.
A half-finished mug sitting on the coffee table.
Everything looked exactly as it should have.
As if Max and Lucas might walk back through the front door at any moment.
Behind him, Will didn’t pause to take any of it in.
He moved through the house with practiced familiarity, heading straight for the kitchen.
Bottles.
Baby food.
Utensils.
Anything Teo might need.
“Here.”
He handed the growing pile to Mike.
“I’m going upstairs for the rest.”
Before Mike could respond, Will was already climbing the stairs.
Teo appeared beside him a moment later, clutching a small light-brown teddy bear.
“Is Mr. Honey coming too?” he asked hopefully, holding the stuffed animal up for inspection.
Mike stared at the teddy bear for a second.
His thoughts felt sluggish, like they were moving through mud.
Everything took longer to process than it should have.
“Of course,” he said at last, giving his head a small shake as if it might help him focus.
A moment later, Will appeared at the bottom of the stairs carrying an armful of supplies.
Clothes.
Blankets.
Whatever a two-year-old might need for forty-eight hours.
“We’re ready.”
Mike scooped Teo back up, balancing him on one arm while carrying Mr. Honey in the other.
Outside, Will loaded everything into the car with practiced efficiency.
The engine was running again within minutes.
Mike carefully settled Teo into the backseat and waited for him to get comfortable before moving to sit beside him.
“No.”
Teo pointed decisively at the empty seat.
“Mr. Honey sits there.”
Mike blinked.
“Right. Of course he does.”
Very seriously, Teo placed the teddy bear in the seat and waited while Mike fastened the seatbelt around him.
Only then did he seem satisfied.
Mike looked around for somewhere else to sit.
The remaining seat was buried beneath bags, blankets, and enough supplies to survive a small apocalypse.
“Sit up front.”
Will’s voice came from the driver’s seat.
Mike nodded and climbed into the passenger seat without arguing.
Once the doors were closed, silence settled over the car again.
After a few blocks, Will finally spoke.
“Where do you live, Mike?”
Mike glanced out the window.
“Just keep going straight for now.”
[…]
The drive back passed in near silence.
Mike gave directions whenever they were needed, but otherwise neither of them spoke.
The radio stayed off.
Neither of them suggested turning it back on.
Before he knew it, he was standing inside the elevator, watching the numbers climb toward the fifth floor.
A few neighbors greeted him as they passed.
Mike managed polite nods in return.
The brief exchanges provided a welcome distraction from everything else.
When they finally reached his apartment, he awkwardly shifted Teo’s weight and tried to fish his keys out of his pocket with one hand.
“Let me help.”
Will’s voice came from behind him.
“I’ve got it.”
After a moment of fumbling, Mike finally managed to unlock the door.
The hinges gave a familiar creak as it swung open.
The first thing that greeted them was silence.
Not the comfortable kind.
The kind that only existed in places occupied by a single person.
The curtains were still open from that morning.
A few hours earlier, sunlight had probably been pouring through the windows.
Now the apartment sat perfectly still.
Everything was in its place.
Neat.
Orderly.
Almost staged.
Then again, Mike lived alone.
He stepped inside and dropped his keys into the small tray near the entrance.
“Are we sleeping here?”
Teo’s voice sounded unusually small.
Mike looked down at him.
Before he could answer, Will spoke from behind him.
“You, Mr. Honey, and Uncle Will are.”
His tone softened slightly.
“It’ll be like a sleepover.”
Mike heard the apartment door click shut behind them.
“I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping,” Mike said quietly.
They crossed the living room in silence, passed through the kitchen, and followed the narrow hallway lined with closed doors.
“The bathroom’s the next door over.”
Mike hesitated.
“I’ll be out here on the couch. If you need anything… wake me up.”
Will simply nodded.
He took Teo from Mike’s arms and disappeared into Mike’s Room, giving both of them the space they desperately needed.
In the end, exhaustion won.
The next thing Mike knew, he was staring up at the ceiling from the couch.
One of his feet hung awkwardly over the edge.
The thin blanket he’d grabbed barely covered him.
His neck ached from being twisted against the armrest.
Only then did he finally let himself fall apart.
There was no point pretending otherwise.
He’d spent the entire day acting like he knew what he was doing.
Making decisions.
Signing paperwork.
Offering solutions.
Playing a role he had never been prepared for.
His eyes drifted shut.
This would only last a few days.
Lucas would wake up.
Max would wake up.
They’d laugh at him for panicking.
Everything would go back to normal.
Just a couple of days.
That was all.
[…]
Morning came only a few hours after Mike had finally managed to fall asleep.
Three hours of rest felt like a luxury to an anxious mind.
He’d never been a heavy sleeper.
A creaking floorboard.
A door opening.
A shift in the room.
Any of it could wake him.
That morning, it was a hand on his arm.
Mike jolted awake with the terrifying sensation of falling.
His eyes flew open before they could adjust to the light, his heart already pounding against his ribs.
“Can I use your kitchen?”
Will’s voice.
Mike blinked up at him.
“Huh?”
“Teo’s hungry.”
Mike rubbed a hand over his face.
“What time is it?”
Will glanced down at his watch.
“Seven fifteen.”
A groan escaped him.
“You should get going. I’ll make breakfast.”
He pushed himself upright and stretched.
“Is he allergic to anything?”
“Peanuts.”
“Okay.”
A moment later, the sound of small hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway.
“Uncle Will? Are Mr. Honey’s pancakes ready yet?”
Teo stopped abruptly when he spotted Mike halfway to the kitchen.
“The pancakes are Uncle Mike’s job today,” Will told him.
Teo considered this information very seriously.
“I have to go show people my paintings,” Will continued. “I’ll be back later. Just like we talked about this morning, okay?”
Teo nodded.
Satisfied.
Mike crouched slightly to meet him at eye level.
“And how would Mr. Honey like his pancakes?”
“Strawberry jam.”
“Excellent choice.”
Mike scooped both Teo and the teddy bear into his arms and carried them toward the kitchen.
For the first time since leaving the hospital, Will’s shoulders seemed to relax.
“I’ll see you later.”
The apartment door opened.
“Bye, Uncle Will!”
Teo waved enthusiastically.
Mike looked up.
For a second, it felt like he should say something too.
Instead, he simply met Will’s eyes.
Will looked away first.
Then the door closed.
Silence settled over the apartment.
Mike looked down at Teo.
Teo looked up at him.
“Alright,” Mike said.
He rolled up his sleeves.
“Let’s make pancakes.”
“Yup!”