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6th November, 1983 - Hawkins, Indiana - 11 PM
Will tosses and turns in his bed. It's been exactly one day since his life changed forever. His little Emerald eyes were constantly filling with tears, threatening to spill and make his favorite, cozy pillow wet. Every rustle of the sheets felt so loud in his little ears. He was restless and his mind was running so fast it could've exploded.
His newly bloomed scent—Strawberries and Marshmallows—lingered on him like a second skin. He loved strawberries, always picking the freshest and juiciest ones whenever the party was out in the fields. He never knew that someday he would have to live with it clinging to his veins and smothering him in his sleep.
The newly discovered traits felt less like a comfort and more like a beacon of vulnerability to Will. He desperately wanted to scrub it all away, terrified of what tomorrow would bring when he finally had to face his friends.
Joyce, I’m telling you he’s a weak boy.
Will felt a pang of guilt stretching throughout the expanse of his little chest. His father’s words were beating in his head—an echo of being smaller, weaker and vulnerable.
He’s my son and I don’t care what he is!
An Omega is what he will be. Mark my words, Joyce!
Lonnie was right. He was right about what Will was all along. Every time he was called ‘soft,’ ‘fragile,’ or a ‘burden,’ it was a prophecy. His words were venomous, yes, but they were also true.
He remembered the disgust in his father’s eyes as he signed the divorce papers, looking at him for the last time, his gaze accusing him of being the reason for it all crumbling. Will also blamed himself for the longest time, no matter how much Joyce reassured him that the divorce wasn't his fault but Lonnies'. His little mind crumbled under the possible fact that if he wasn't a fragile little boy, his father wouldn't have made their lives hell and he wouldn't have left.
Jonathan was in high school and already picking up shifts to support their home. Joyce was rarely home and Will felt like it was all his fault. Even when Hopper offers something, Joyce doesn't take him up on the offer because he doesn't have to take the responsibility of two children who are not his.
Will tried to close his eyes and imagine a land far away where all these dynamics didn’t exist and he could just live as a little boy. Free to run around with his friends, without any labels, without any care for what people would say and without thinking about his father’s disappointment. A world where his brother gets to make friends in school and be normal without the responsibility of home. A world where his mother wouldn't have to work 18-19 hours a day just to make ends meet.
The little, doe-eyed boy was terrified of what Mike would think about him. He can live with his father being angry and disappointed, but not his friends. They were his only rock after his mother and Jonathan.
Would Mike look at Will with that same sharp, cold disgust that used to twist Lonnie’s face? Would he make fun of him? Laugh at him until his chest ached?
The uncertainty clawed at his stomach. He played out a thousand terrible scenarios in his head, wondering if his friends would accept him or if he would finally be cast out of the Party for good. No one in his friend group was an Omega. Not even the girls, but Will—a boy—had presented as one.
To his uncertain mind, it felt like an absolute shame, a glaring anomaly that made him completely alien to the people he cherished most. He buried his face deeper into his arms, utterly convinced that his presentation had just built an unbridgeable wall between himself and the only people whose opinion truly mattered to him.
Joyce paced the perimeter of the Byers' cabin. Hopper was working late tonight, so he couldn't make it to meet her and she was more anxious than Will right now. She kept on thinking how all the words Lonnie once said to Will came true. She had no problem with her son being an omega; she was just worried that Will would take all that to his heart. She had strong suspicions that he must be replaying everything in his head, which is why he told Joyce to leave him alone.
Will was like that. Sensitive, sweet, kind and soft. Joyce loved that about him. She loved that his skin was thin enough to see beauty in things. He saw the world through the lens of love, not anger. That’s what made him different from all the kids his age. While all the bullies or children around him loved getting into alpha, omega and beta politics even at such a fragile age, Will was the one who wanted the simpler things.
He preferred the quiet comfort of his crayons, the safety of Castle Byers and the gentle, unspoken understanding shared between friends over the competitive dynamics the rest of the world seemed obsessed with. For Will, the world was a canvas to be painted with kindness, not a battlefield to be conquered and Joyce fiercely vowed to protect that beautiful perspective from being crushed by the weight of his own doubts.
Her thoughts came to a halt at the sudden, loud ringing of the mounted telephone. It was 11 PM. Who could possibly be calling so late? Joyce didn’t let it ring for long, terrified that the harsh noise would wake Jonathan from his heavy sleep, or worse, startle Will out of his light slumber.
She picked up the receiver soundlessly, tiptoeing around the kitchen cord to stifle the sound as quickly as possible. Pressing the cold plastic to her ear, she kept her voice to a tense, protective whisper.
"Hello?" she breathed into the receiver, her eyes instinctively darting down the hallway toward her boys' rooms.
“Hello, Joyce!” It was Karen Wheeler’s delightful voice on the other end. “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”
“No, Karen, you didn’t. I was awake—”
“Perfect! I’m coming over in 15 minutes; we have to talk about something. I’ll bring wine. Bye!” The line went dead
That was one hell of a weird call. Wine night, on a Tuesday? What was Karen Wheeler up to?
17 minutes later, two slow knocks came.
The next day, Will woke slowly. His eyes blinked rapidly, stung by the sudden brightness of the sun rays because someone had just decided to pull open the curtains and blind him. As the heavy fog of sleep started lifting, his other senses slowly began to spark to life.
The sharp, tight anxiety that had choked his chest the night before felt momentarily cushioned by the deep warmth of his blankets and the warm rays of the sun. Then, he breathed in. A rich, undeniably familiar scent engulfed him, wrapping around his heightened Omega senses like a physical embrace. It was the comforting, grounding aroma of rain-drenched earth and Bergamot—a scent he could reconize anywhere.
Before his mind could even fully register the connection, his body relaxed into the sheets, instinctively delving into the presence of safety. Will’s eyes closed for another second and then opened very slowly as he adjusted his vision, squinting against the light to find the source of that comforting warmth.
As the blurry shapes in his room began to resolve, he saw an unexpected figure standing by the window. The person was smiling softly, looking right down at him through his stupid, bouncy dark bob of hair.
Mike.
Will blinked a few times, trying to clear the lingering sleep from his eyes, but the figure remained constant.
“Good morning!” Mike said, a wide, bright smile flashing his teeth as he looked down at Will.
“Byers!”
Another familiar voice rang out cheerily across the room. Before Will could even process it, the owner of that voice lunged forward, enveloping a very sleepy Will in a tight, breathless hug that landed with a soft thwack against the mattress.
A collective round of laughter instantly engulfed the bedroom. As Will finally sat up, the comforting sounds made it easy to pick out everyone’s voice. Max was leaning against the wall, Jane was smiling warmly from the foot of the bed, Lucas was shaking his head, grinning and Mike was still standing close by, his eyes crinkling.
Will rubbed his eyes, his mind struggling to catch up with the large amount of noise and color currently filling his small bedroom. He looked from Dustin, who was still practically pinning him to the mattress with a giant, enthusiastic bear hug, to the rest of the faces crowded around his bed.
“Guys… What is happening?” Will stammered as he instinctively pulled the blanket a little higher, a sudden spark of panic striking his chest as he remembered the truth of his presentation. “It’s so early, who let you all in?”
"Your mom let us in, duh," Max said, stepping forward to lightly shove Dustin's shoulder. "Get off him, Dustin, you’re gonna suffocate him."
Dustin reluctantly let go, popping up with a toothy grin. "This is pack solidarity, Max. It's very important!"
Will blinked, his heart doing a strange little flutter at the word pack. He looked over at Mike, his emerald eyes wide and uncertain. "You... you guys know?"
Mike moved closer, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. The familiar, comforting scent of rain and Bergamot drifted over Will again, instantly settling his frayed nerves.
"Of course, we know, Will." Mike’s expression softened, a sweet, earnest look on his face. "We even bought warm new sweaters and strawberry milk for you."
“And all your favorites!” Jane chimed.
"Exactly!" Lucas said, leaning over the bedpost. "You know, having an Omega means our Party finally has an emotional compass. God knows none of us can handle that.”
"Hey! I have a great emotional compass." Dustin shouted, puffing out his chest, though he couldn't help but giggle. Mike threw a pillow at his face.
Jane stepped closer to the head of the bed, reaching out to gently pat Will’s messy, sleep-mussed bowlcut. "You smell nice, Will. Like strawberries and marshmallows."
Will felt a hot blush creep up his neck, but for the first time in twenty-four hours, the tears threatening to spill from his eyes weren't from sadness or fear. They were from pure, overwhelming relief.
Lonnie had been so, so wrong.
"No crying allowed today," Max said, her eyes were incredibly kind as she nudged Will's leg through the blankets. "Now come on, get out of bed! Let’s go into the lounge."
"What's in the lounge?" Will asked, completely confused now as he looked toward the door.
The Party all looked at each other and started grinning and smiling. The brightest smile was Mike’s as he said, “You have to see it for yourself.”
Before Will could answer, Mike just gently grabbed Will’s hand and tugged him forward, the rest of the kids eagerly piling out of the bedroom ahead of them like a pack of excited puppies.
Will stumbled a bit, his bare feet padding softly against the cold hallway floor, his heart doing a nervous little dance. Lonnie’s cruel voice still whispered that he should hide this fragile new side of himself, but the warm grip of Mike’s hand was a solid anchor against the anxiety flooding his chest. Looking at his friends' excited faces, a mixture of terror and hope bloomed in his chest.
When they reached the lounge, Mike stood aside with a proud, dramatic flourish of his arm. His dark eyes sparkled with pure triumph.
Will froze in the doorway, his emerald eyes widening like dinner plates. The breath caught in his throat as the heavy, suffocating fear from the night before instantly dissolved into warmth.
The lounge was completely filled with a colorful sea of gifts, looking like a treasure trove built entirely for him.
Arranged neatly along the wall were beautifully wrapped gift baskets sent by the pack's parents. They were bursting at the seams with thick, cozy knit sweaters, arrays of his favorite snacks, a brand-new backpack, supplies for school and countless other thoughtful presents.
Right in the middle of the coffee table sat a large platter of snacks, piled high with Will’s absolute favorite candies and savory treats. From Reece’s Pieces to Cheesy Pretzels, everything was there. Dustin was practically beaming next to it and Will knew instantly that he was the one behind the massive food mountain, given his absolute love for gathering food items and stuffing his face every chance he gets.
Next to the platter lay a fresh, thick sketchbook paired with a professional set of colored pencils and fine charcoal sticks. Will’s heart did a soft, warm flutter; he didn’t even have to ask to know Mike had bought them for him, because he always knew Will’s favorite artistic mediums down to the exact brand.
Dominating the entire center of the room was a huge, magnificent blanket fort made by the whole party. Max and Lucas had spent hours buying and putting up the decorations, stringing twinkling fairy lights all across the sheets and pinning up fond pictures of the Party from over the years. Inside, a large, plush nest was cutely constructed from a mountain of their own clothes and softest blankets, all blending together into a cocoon of familiar, protective scents.
Tucked neatly into the corners of the nest were piles of brand-new comic books and their well-worn, beloved D&D manuals. Resting right at the center of the nest was a cute, bright yellow crown that was definitely handmade, looking exactly like something El would craft.
Will’s hands flew to his mouth, his shoulders trembling slightly as a soft, breathless gasp escaped his lips. He stood completely frozen, his Emerald eyes darting from the twinkling fairy lights to the massive, scent-filled nest and then to the table overflowing with gifts.
A smile broke across his face, his eyes shining as the tears he had been holding back all night finally spilled over. They tracked warm and clean down his flushed cheeks. He let out a wet, happy little laugh, his heart swelling so full it almost ached. Slowly lowering his hands from his mouth, he looked around at the eager, grinning faces of his friends, utterly overwhelmed by the sheer amount of love filling the room.
Lonnie’s cruel voice was entirely silenced, replaced by the beautiful realization that he wasn't broken for being soft and he certainly wasn't alone.
“Do you like it?” Mike asked softly, his voice suddenly cutting through the quiet sniffles. He stepped into Will's space, the familiar scent of rain and Bergamot wrapping around Will like a physical embrace.
Will slowly nodded, not trusting his voice as he smiled and wiped his tears.
From behind his back, Mike pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box. He carefully untied the string and opened it, revealing a beautiful carved wooden d20 dice, painted in Will’s favorite shades of yellow and blue. It was most certainly a courting gift.
"Will you be our pack's head Omega?" Mike asked, his dark eyes wide, earnest and completely fixed on Will. "...and uh.. my partner?"
Beside them, Dustin, Lucas, Max and El all exchanged massive, knowing grins, leaning in closer to them. Near the kitchen, Joyce let out a soft sound of pure happiness, leaning against Jonathan, who was already smiling warmly and adjusting the lens of his camera, waiting for the perfect moment to capture.
Will went completely silent, the world around him slowing to a standstill.
He knew the weight of what Mike was asking. Mike was the pack Alpha; he had been the first of the group to present, fiercely claiming all of them as his pack to protect them and keep them together. Being the pack Omega was a lot of responsibility. It meant being the emotional heart of the Party, but also the Alpha’s partner.
In the regular world, when kids present, parents usually make them wait until they turn eighteen to make any official mating decisions. Even when childhood sweethearts chose each other early, they waited until the legal age. Until then, the dedicated Alpha would court his Omega, showering them with gifts and affection to ensure their promise remained unbroken.
To Will’s surprise, here Mike was. At just twelve years old, he was making that promise. He was asking Will to be his partner. His crush since they were little kids. His best friend. His Alpha.
Will’s breath hitched, his heart hammering against his ribs as he stared at the beautifully carved dice in Mike's hands. He couldn't believe it. He truly, deeply couldn't believe it.
"Mike..." Will whispered, his voice cracking as fresh, happy tears welled up in his emerald eyes.
Will’s trembling hands reached out, his fingers brushing against Mike’s as he carefully accepted the carved wooden die. A brilliant, radiant smile broke through his tears.
Seeing that smile, Mike let out a breathless laugh, practically jumping off his feet with excitement of being accepted, before throwing his arms around Will, hugging him so tightly that he was lifted slightly off the ground.
Instantly, the rest of the Party piled in, enveloping the two of them in a massive, chaotic hug. Laughing and cheering so loudly, the small house practically shook with adrenaline. Amidst the tangle of arms and happy shouting, El gently placed the bright yellow crown right onto Will’s messy bowl cut.
From the kitchen, the heavy, mouth-watering scent of melting cheese and rich sauce drifted into the lounge. Karen stepped out, carefully balancing a massive, steaming tray of fresh lasagna.
"Alright, clear some space on the table, kids! Breakfast-lasagna is here!" she announced with a bright laugh, setting it right down next to the mountain of treats.
Joyce smiled warmly, wiping a stray tear from her cheek as she opened the refrigerator. She grabbed two large pitchers and began pouring tall glasses of cold strawberry milk for the kids, her heart bursting at the sight of her youngest boy looking so radiantly happy.
Meanwhile, the constant clicks of Jonathan’s camera filled the room. He moved around the perimeter of the lounge, capturing every single moment: the chaotic group hug, the bright yellow crown tilted on Will's head, Dustin eyeing the lasagna and the kids finally diving into the plush blanket fort with their plates.
After snapping a few more candid shots, Jonathan stepped back into the kitchen, leaning against the counter beside his mother. He watched the kids pile into the massive nest, their laughter echoing through the small house.
"How did you even manage to do all of this?" Jonathan asked softly, a look of genuine wonder on his face. "It’s... it’s incredible, Mom."
Joyce smiled, her eyes crinkling as she set the milk carton down. "I didn't do anything. Karen came over late last night. She told me the kids had been planning this the second they heard about Will's presentation. We both stayed up half the night organizing it and the kids brought everything at dawn."
Jonathan turned his gaze back to the lounge. Through the opening of the blanket fort, he saw Will talking animatedly to Mike about something, gesturing with one hand, his cheeks flushed a healthy, happy pink. Mike was listening to every single word like it was the most important thing in the world, his hands gently holding Will's. The rest of the Party was completely preoccupied, Dustin and Lucas fighting over the largest slice of lasagna while Max and El shared a packet of pretzels.
A quiet, protective smile spread across Jonathan's face. He felt a profound sense of relief washing over him. Jonathan was a beta, Joyce was a beta and even Hopper was one. For the longest time, the only real example of an Alpha they had ever known was Lonnie— an abusive, cruel man who used it as a weapon to terrorize and diminish their family.
Thankfully, Lonnie was old news, entirely erased from their lives.
Looking at Mike, so gentle, so fiercely protective and so completely devoted to making sure Will felt safe and cherished, Joyce and Jonathan knew their little sunshine was going to be just fine.
Will had a real pack now. He had people who loved and accepted him and would be there for him forever.