Chapter Text
August 1994
The banquet hall was decorated in the typical wedding fashion, with white drapery lining the walls, satin and lace covering the tables, and low, moody lighting with a single mirror ball hanging from the ceiling. Half the tablecloths were already stained with the red wine and whiskey that Steve and Robin commandeered from the open bar, their loophole for the two drink rule of the night.
The lights from the dance floor casted a soft glow on the small crowd of people dancing, music echoing out through the balcony doors and into the warm, summer night air.
Will leaned against the railing of the balcony, a half-drank beer pinched between his pointer finger and thumb as he listened to the sounds of Madonna’s crooning voice as it spilled out from the hall. He huffed a laugh to himself at the thought of Nancy and Jonathan procuring a wedding playlist, knowing that the current song – Crazy For You, he was pretty sure, was most certainly a Nancy pick.
“Wow, ditching your own brother’s wedding, huh?”
Will snorted, turning around to see his brother grinning at him.
“Come on, ditching is a little dramatic, don’t you think?” Will raised his eyebrows at him, his back against the railing as Jonathan slid up next to him. “So, Madonna?”
“Nance vetoed anything by The Clash, but revoked my veto power when I said no Madonna. It’s a dirty power move.” Jonathan said, looking so disgustingly in love. He was happy for his brother, don’t get him wrong, but he only got a pass on the mushiness since it was his wedding day.
“You’ll convert her one day,” Will said, knowing for certain that it was more likely for the sun to implode on itself tomorrow than Nancy Wheeler ever liking The Clash.
“I appreciate your optimism,” His brother snorted.
They were quiet for a moment when Jonathan nudged him.
Oh, here we go…
“So,” He drawled, “have you talked to Mike yet?”
What he really meant was: Why haven’t you talked to Mike yet?
“Jonathan–”
“Hey, it’s not an interrogation,” He put his hands up as if Will were some kind of a wild animal, quick to frighten or intimidate. He took a little offense to that, he was perfectly level-headed the vast majority of the time. Sue him if he got pissed about something once in a blue moon.
“Really? ‘Cause you kinda cornered me in an isolated area to ask questions you know I don’t want to answer,” He cocked an eyebrow, “All that’s missing is the cuffs and shoddy lighting.”
“Ha ha, you’re so funny.” Jonathan said flatly, “Come on, it’s been months since you’ve even seen him. I’m sure he misses you.”
“Misses me enough to never call or visit when we live in the same city?” Will shot him a look.
“New York is pretty big, Will,” He argued weakly.
“We were in the same subway car a month ago and he literally saw me and then got up and left. And before you say anything, I know for a fact that it wasn’t his stop.” He huffed a laugh. “It’s fine, Jonathan, I’m really not worried about it. It’s your wedding, no big brother stuff today.”
“Big brother stuff is an always thing, Will,” Jonathan ruffled his hair, grinning. “Besides, Nancy is the one that told me to get you to talk to him, since Mike is acting like a big baby again and he won’t tell her why. Just like you won’t tell me.”
“I did tell you,” Will huffed, “he stopped reaching out and I got tired of being blown off by someone who was supposed to be my friend. My best friend.”
“Talk to him, Will,” Jonathan sighed, shaking his head as he leaned against the railing beside him. “Consider it a wedding present to us both? One dance, that’s all.”
“I literally painted your wedding portrait and got you a new sound system for your living room,” He looked over at him, huffing at the unimpressed look on Jonathan’s face. They’d reached the begging stage, and now he felt guilty that his brother was out here on his wedding day, begging him to talk to his estranged best friend.
“Come on, it’ll make Nance so happy to see you guys talking again,” Jonathan raised his eyebrows, “and I told her I’d get you to talk to him. So please? So she doesn’t get mad at me?”
Low blow. He knew realistically that Nancy wouldn’t get mad at Jonathan, but he also knew that if this talk with Jonathan was a painful one, the one that he’d get with Nancy would be equivalent to the lowest ring of hell.
He’d pass on that.
“Fine,” He sighed, quitting while he was ahead. “One dance, one conversation, and if he runs for the hills again, then that’s on both of you for being weird meddlers.”
“Eh,” Jonathan shrugged, “I’ll take it. Have fun!” He pushed himself off the rail and ruffled his hair with a grin before heading back into the banquet hall.
Will sighed, leaning over the railing and down at the shallow creek below.
They were less than an hour outside the city, but it could have very well been a whole different world. Gone were the sounds of city traffic, the ever-present honking and yells of road rage that persisted outside his window, replaced with croaking of distant frogs and the chirping of the crickets nestled in the tall grass, audible only slightly under the music blasting inside. It was comforting, in a way. Nostalgic of his childhood in Hawkins, where the sounds of ambulances and angry commuters were few and far between and rarely ever reached his house, with how far back his house was from the road.
He hadn’t seen the stars so clearly in over a year, as much as he hated to admit that. He hadn’t made it out to Montauk for the holidays in the past year, having had to work Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. His mom had been pretty upset at first, but Hopper had luckily talked her down from bringing the holidays to him. He loved her, he did, but working as a nurse in the emergency department in the middle of the biggest city in the country, there wasn’t too much time in his shift for celebrating. At least, not when he was taking care of someone’s uncle who blew off half his hand lighting fireworks in the street to ring in the new year.
He took another moment to breathe in the night air, finding solace in the warmth and serenity that surrounded him. Maybe Mike would just tell him to fuck off and he could head over to hang out Dustin and El for the rest of the night.
He dismissed that idea almost instantly when he saw the two in the corner of the room, faces flushed from alcohol and, well, canoodling, to say the least. Yeah, he’d take his chances with Mike. He did not want to be a third-wheel to that wagon.
He snorted to himself. Two thirds of the party had officially paired up while the remaining third was being blackmailed into speaking. How fun was that?
Will trekked across the banquet hall, dreading every step he took. The current song was ending, a more upbeat tune he didn’t really recognize. Another Nancy pick, unless his brother was turning into a closet pop-head.
He spotted Mike, sitting at the bridal party’s table by himself. Okay, maybe Nancy had a point, he was sulking. But how was that his fault? It’d been three months and Mike hadn’t so much as glanced at him, so did Mike’s sudden mood flop really have all that much to do with him?
Will saw him sigh pitifully and, well, Will wasn’t a monster. He felt bad that Mike felt bad, for whatever reason. He was still the same kid that came up to him on that swing set eighteen years ago, maybe Jonathan was right and he just needed one more nudge in the right direction. He could push aside his own confusion and hurt for a single night.
He tipped his head back, polishing off his room temperature beer. It was disgusting, as Lucas had shoved it in his hand two and a half hours ago when he’d been too preoccupied with finishing the ceremony painting to finish it in a timely manner, only remembering he was even still holding it when faced with his impending doom.
Mike looked up as Will approached, their eyes meeting with the impact akin to an eighteen-wheeler and a puny rosebush.
“Crazy party,” Will said, setting his empty bottle on the table.
Mike huffed a laugh, “Yeah, it’s a real rager.”
Will almost let out a sigh of relief. He was actually talking to him, that was a step in the right direction, right?
“Hey, um, did you want to maybe dance? Or something?” He looked up from the table to Mike’s face, cursing himself for sounding so nervous. This was for Jonathan and Nancy, so they’d stop worrying about them and focus on their wedding. Nothing self-indulgent. Never.
“Dance?” Mike’s nose wrinkled in confusion.
Fuck. Yeah, that wasn't really something they did, was it?
“Or we could go out to the balcony or something,” Will said quickly, “to talk, or something. It’s been a while.”
Mike frowned, looking away. “Yeah, I guess it has,” he said simply.
Will thought that he’d say something else. Anything, some continuation of a thought, but nothing came. Stone face, stoic Mike Wheeler wouldn’t even meet his fucking eyes.
Yeah, so much for conversation.
“Okay, get up.” Will said suddenly, surprising himself with how firm his voice was.
“Huh?” Mike’s head snapped up like a dog, blinking at him as if he were speaking French. "What?"
“I said, get up, Mike,” Will grabbed his wrist and pulled him up. “It’s your sister and my brother’s wedding and they’re worried about whatever the hell is up with us, with you. So, if you’re going to sit here and pretend like you haven’t been avoiding me for three months, fine, but you’re taking a break from it and dancing with me for one song and looking like you’re not the worlds most miserable person for five minutes so they can stop fucking worrying.”
Mike stared back at him owlishly as Will dragged him out to the middle of the banquet hall just as the next song started up.
He’d never wished harder for a fast paced pop song in his life, only to have every hope and dream he’d ever had crushed in a breath when the soft sounds of Mazzy Star’s ‘Fade into You’ came over the speakers.
“You want to slow dance.” Mike said flatly, staring down at him.
“Madonna has been playing for thirty minutes, Mike, obviously I wasn’t expecting a slow song next.” Will tugged him close, glaring up at him. “Smile.”
“Jesus, you’re being so bossy,” Mike gave him a sickeningly sweet fake smile. “Seriously, what crawled up your ass and died?”
“You!” Will hissed through his own fake smile, forcing Mike’s hands onto his waist. “You did!”
Mike held him as if he were a middle schooler dancing with someone for the first time, leaving enough room between them for two entire people to slip in under their arms.
Will sighed, tugging Mike closer so that their fronts were flush. His chin rested on Mike’s shoulder then, his arms around his neck as he looked towards where Nancy and Jonathan were huddled together, both grinning and giving him a thumbs up. He gave them his very own, very forced, grin.
“I did not crawl up your ass,” Mike grumbled into his ear.
“You’re really pissing me off,” Will sighed, swaying along with the song.
“You forced me to dance.”
“I think you’ll live.”
They stayed quiet for the remainder of the song, Will pulling away as soon as the song ended. “For their sake, pretend we’re actually friends again.”
Mike gaped at him, his mouth hanging open dumbly as if he was actually offended by Will’s words. “That’s—”
“I’m not fighting with you here, Mike, I’m not,” Will turned, heading off to go find Lucas and Max. They were far enough into their relationship that an open bar didn’t automatically cause PDA border-lining a public indecency charge (unless you counted Robin and Vickie, who had snuck off to the back closet an hour ago).
He didn’t spare Mike another look the rest of the night, maybe for himself, maybe even for Mike’s own sake.
—
December 1994
The city was coated in a thick layer of white as he sat in his brother and sister-in-law’s warm Lower East Side apartment.
By some miracle, Karen Wheeler had actually agreed to let Nancy and Jonathan host Christmas that year. Nancy had officially made head investigative journalist at The Times which led to a big enough pay increase that she and Jonathan were able to swing a sizable apartment in a nicer part of the East Side. It was no West Side Village, but it beat his own five square foot shitbox. It had a washer and dryer! Talk about luxury! It helped too that Jonathan had gotten quite the raise himself, moonlighting as a photojournalist for Rolling Stone while also working on his new indie short film.
In short, his brother wasn't absolutely dirt poor for the first time in his life and could finally afford a big enough place to host both the Wheelers and Byers without being completely on top of each other.
In spite of it all, in that moment, Will was fending off an all-too-bold Holly Wheeler.
“My dad lets me try sips of it, what’s the big deal?” She pouted as Will had snatched away the cup of spiked eggnog.
“Your dad lets you try sips of Smirnoff?” Will cocked an eyebrow at her as she huffed, crossing her arms.
“No,” She sniped, like he was the unreasonable one, “He lets me try vodka.”
“Right, right, sure,” He dumped the cup back into the punch bowl and handed her a juice box, to which she groaned.
“God, you’re worse than Mike,” She whined, angrily opening the juice box and glaring at him as she sipped from the straw.
“Sorry, I’m not spending the night dealing with more drunk Wheelers,” He ruffled her hair, “You get gross watered down beer in your basement just like the rest of us. It's a rite of passage, Hols.”
“Hey! Bad influence!” Nancy chastised as she went into the fridge to get to the non-spiked eggnog, pouring herself a cup before pouring Holly some. “I thought that was the other boys, not you.”
Will gave her a sheepish shrug, “I mean, I didn’t drink a drop until twenty-one. Just like a good, upstanding citizen.” He said, drawing a laugh from Nancy.
“Well, I need something if I’m going to get through Jonathan’s talk about his ‘movie’,” Holly complained as Will snorted, abandoning the two in the kitchen to go back out to the living room where El was splayed out on the couch, her feet in Jonathan’s lap as she listened to him go on and on about his new short film.
He didn’t fully get it, El seemed pretty interested as she adopted a very ‘anti-government’ attitude in recent years (completely understandable), but the cannibal stuff went over his head a bit. Usually, he’d talk to Mike about it and they’d use their combined skill of analyzing visual media and textual media, but he was still mostly avoiding him.
It didn’t bother him, not at all. Seven months of practically radio silence? Been there, done that.
Except last time, it was only six months and they lived over a thousand miles apart. Now they were only separated by three streets and a Dunkin Donuts that he can’t even go to anymore because he knows Mike has a serious addiction to the strawberry sprinkle donuts and frequents at the most ungodly hours when writers block hits.
Speaking of, Mike was sitting on the loveseat, the one that had the only open spot in the already halfway-overcrowded living room. With both Karen and Ted, his mom and Hopper, El, Jonathan, Nancy and Holly who followed shortly after him, himself, and Mike? It was nearly at capacity.
He pushed down his own bitterness. It was Christmas, he could be the bigger person tonight. He would be.
He crossed the room and dropped down beside Mike, sipping on the eggnog.
“Careful with that,” Mike said, looking over at him for the first time the whole night.
“I’m not going to spill,” Will rolled his eyes as Mike snorted a little.
“No,” Mike pulled a leg up on the couch, “Eggnog gets you messy, remember Christmas in ‘88? You puked in my mom’s rosebush.”
Will had to stifle a smile at that, damn him.
“That was forever ago, and I had like four,” Will sipped the drink, trying to hide how pleased he was that Mike remembered that little, albeit gross, memory.
God, the bar really was in hell, wasn’t it?
“You had three and a half,” Mike raised an eyebrow, “Isn’t that your third?”
“Shut up,” Will put the cup down, knowing if he finished the drink, he’d be in for a rough morning anyways. He hadn’t gotten that drunk since May when Max and El forced him to join their girls night, and the hungover that followed was hell and a half.
Nancy sidled up to Jonathan, patting his leg and giving him a look. Immediately, he stopped his rant on the cannibalistic capitalists. He could’ve sworn that was the plot to the short film he made years ago. Is that what he was talking about?
Okay, maybe he was a little buzzed. And he still didn't get it.
“So,” Nancy started, grinning over at all of them as they turned to look at her. “We have a little announcement.”
Jonathan was positively beaming, sitting up to wrap his arm around Nancy. He looked up at her like she’d hung the moon and stars herself. He didn’t know if he’d ever seen his brother so happy.
“I’m pregnant,” Nancy pulled a piece of paper from her pocket, a little sonogram.
Both Karen and his mom burst into tears, both women getting up and immediately hugging Nancy, El joining in with the biggest smile he’d ever seen on her face. He couldn’t make out what any of them were saying as they swayed her back and forth. Hopper clapped a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder before pulling him into a hug, saying something indecipherable to Will into his ear.
Will risked a look to Mike, a mistake as he found Mike already looking at him, a soft smile on his face.
“Guess we’re gonna be uncles, huh?” He leaned in enough to bump their shoulders together.
“Yeah,” Will looked over at his brother and Nancy, both engulfed in hugs by all the parents (minus Ted, who awkwardly patted Jonathan’s shoulder with a ‘good job, son’. “Crazy, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Mike’s voice was softer, “Crazy.”
He watched as Mike got up, joining his mother and sister in a hug, getting up to do the same. It felt like maybe things could only get better from there.
—
June 1995
Will Byers was a fool.
Time and time again, this lesson had been forced into his face, and time and time again, he ignored it in turn for trusting stupid, blind hope.
Six months and Mike hadn’t reached out to him, hadn’t called or even messaged him on AOL, which he only found out Mike had when Max suggested he try and reach him through there. He’d spent half his paycheck on a stupid computer – something Dustin was pretty psyched about.
He gave up after a month.
It was fine anyway, he was fine. He went to work, he came home, he painted sometimes and hung out with his friends. He had even met someone, four months ago, and things had been going great. He didn’t even think about Mike, not a single thought.
Carter was tall, he had curly dark brown hair, and pretty blue eyes. Sometimes Will thought they might be too blue, a little too piercing. Kind of like those creepy miniature horses he’d seen before at those random petting zoos that Hawkins Elementary would schedule field trips to every once in a while.
That wasn’t fair, Carter was attractive. Lucas had compared him to a Greek God, Dustin practically swooned the first time he’d brought him around. El and Max teased him mercilessly, already joking about wedding plans and picket fences. And really, Will was not a shallow person, he wasn’t going to get caught up on the fact that his eyes were too light, and his own taste in music was a worlds better than his considering Carter listened only to whatever was popular on the radio. Carter was nice, he called when he said he would, he taught Will how to actually use AOL so he could stop accidentally messaging strangers. He picked him up for dates, and held his hand in public. He kissed him and told him how nice he looked, even after picking him up from his shifts where he knew he didn’t look half as good as he said. He was a doctor too, a pediatrician who spent every break with him when they worked the same days.
He was steady and safe and kind and actually there.
That was Will’s type.
He didn’t need someone who ignored him 99% of the time. He didn’t need someone who listened to the Butthole Surfers like they were the pinnacle of music or considered Kraft Dinner to be a home cooked meal.
He especially didn’t need someone who would never love him back.
Christmas was a fluke, it had turned out. Mike had been drunk off his ass and hiding it unreasonably well, until he started giggling as both his mom and Mrs. Wheeler chastised him for the Christmas of ‘88 story. He woke up face down on Nancy and Jonathan’s living room floor and had to be told the news all over again, to which he congratulated them before running away to puke.
Yeah, Will sure could pick them.
It wasn't even like dodging a bullet, it was like dodging a fucking nuclear missile strike. And no, he wasn't being dramatic.
He was working when he got the call.
A few floors above him, his baby niece had just been born. Will didn't think he'd ever run up eight flights of stairs so fast.
Visiting hours were long since over, and Will knew if a labor and delivery nurse caught him sneaking in, his ass would be grass and they'd report him to his manager.
Don't ask how he knew that…
Instead, he hugged his brother and congratulated him and Nancy before having to sprint back down the stairs to finish up the rest of his shift.
It was a long two days before Jonathan called and let everyone know they were ready for visitors.
Will arrived first, a little gift bag in his hands as he and Carter stood at Nancy and Jonathan's apartment door. He lifted his hand to knock when he felt something brush against his shoulder. He looked over and saw Mike staring at him.
"Who is this?" Was the first thing out of his mouth.
Will felt his eye twitch. "Nice to see you too."
Carter glanced between them before sticking a hand out, "I'm Carter," He gave him a smile, "Will's boyfriend."
Mike just scoffed, "Isn't it rude to bring a stranger to meet your niece for the first time?"
Carter hummed, "Ah, you must be Mike."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Mike sputtered as Will rolled his eyes, knocking on the door.
Nancy pulled open the door, grinning at them. "Will! Carter!" She greeted, pulling them into a hug before being met with Mike's sour face. "You could look happier to meet my baby, Mike."
"Our baby, Nance!" Jonathan corrected from in the living room.
Mike sputtered again, "You've met this guy?"
Nancy just sighed and rolled her eyes, motioning them in as Will shook his head.
What business was his if he brought his boyfriend? Jonathan told him he could. It's not like he was meeting Mike's baby.
He willed away the nauseating feeling that came with thinking of Mike having his own baby some day and made a beeline for his brother, grinning the second he saw the little pink face of his niece.
"Hey, buddy," Jonathan gave him a side hug, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. "I've got someone who's been dying to meet her uncle Will."
"Oh, Jon," Will couldn't take his eyes off her little face, the pouted out little lips and tiny little nose, "She's beautiful…"
He felt Mike step up next to him, silently looking at her.
"That's your uncle Mike," Jonathan said softly to the baby girl, looking up at them both with the world's softest smile.
Will always knew Jonathan would make the best dad, but seeing it in action was a whole new world.
"This is Lucia Barbra Byers-Wheeler," Jonathan said, stroking her little cheek, "We call her Lucy."
Nancy smiled, leaning against the wall as she watched Mike immediately snatch her up. Will smiled over at her and she just winked at him. God, whatever that meant.
His eyes flicked back over to Mike, who was cradling her head with a gentleness he hadn't seen in so long. "Hi, Lucy," He whispered, rocking her a little, "I'm Michael, but everyone calls me Mike."
Will huffed a laugh, unable to keep the fondness from rising in his chest. He felt Carter nudge him, looking up at him to see him grinning.
"Think that'll be us one day?" He asked, his eyes as gentle as his voice.
He blinked, "Oh, um," He floundered for a moment before his attention was drawn away by a bump to his shoulder.
"Will," Mike interrupted, "Wanna hold her?"
It would've been sweet, if it weren't for the stink face he was making.
Great, was Mike homophobic now?
Will gave Carter a sheepish grin before scooping up the baby from Mike's, his smile softening immediately, "Lucia," He said gently, "That's your grandma's middle name," He brought her up closer, "You're named after two very cool, very strong ladies, Miss Lucy."
Nancy leaned into Jonathan, smiling sadly, "She really is, she's gonna be a force."
"With you as a mom?" He snickered, "We're really in for it this time, Nance."
Will just smiled down at the little baby in his arms, knowing she was the luckiest kid alive to have parents who loved her and each other so much.
—
December 1995
It had been a pretty draining day, working from 7am until just after 11pm. He picked up a little extra as his rent was raised for the fourth time in a year and his lease didn't end for another month. It sucked, but he liked having a place to live, even if the kitchen and bedroom were technically the same room and he shared a bathroom with ten other people.
Max and Lucas offered their spare bedroom for the time being, but considering they were newly engaged, Will didn't want to intrude. The other option was Dustin and El's couch, but that also came with their three cats and two dogs who also slept on the couch… He needed enough sleep at night to not accidentally kill anyone at work, so he also passed on that.
In between trauma patients and the occasional 'should've been an urgent care' visit, Will scoured the paper for any apartment listings.
"You could just move in with your hot doctor," One of the other nurses, Liz, suggested.
Will wrinkled his nose, "I think it's still too soon for that," He looked up from the paper, "Right?"
"You've been with him for like, a year, Will," Liz snatched the paper to look at the listing, "He's twenty-eight, he's gonna be an attending next year, and then you're set."
"Ten months," He corrected, slouching in his seat as he looked over at the clock on the wall. 11:26, four more minutes. "And I don't care if he's going to be an attending or not, I like him for him. Not because he's gonna be a rich doctor."
Liz cocked an eyebrow at him, "Lock him down, William. Just ask if you can move in, if you like him so much."
He snorted, snatching back the paper, "I'll think about it, Elizabeth," He picked up his bag and yawned, "I'm heading home now, have a good rest of your shift."
"Home to your boyfriend?" She waggled her eyebrows as he waved her off.
"Home to my bed." He clocked out, punching his card before waving to his other coworkers just as an ambulance pulled up.
He rubbed his eyes, heading out the door as the sirens blasted and paramedics rushed around him. Another pulled up, no lights.
Thinking nothing of it, he headed out and towards the subway.
He didn't work in the morning, so he didn't rush, leisurely walking to the station and waiting for his train. He made it home just after midnight, stripping off his scrubs and washing away the hospital in the communal shower before heading back into his studio apartment. The hot water soothed his sore back, he wondered sometimes if this whole nursing thing was for him. The hours sucked, the pay sucked, and he hadn't gone a single shift in months without a patient calling him some kind of derogatory term. He could barely make rent in his shoebox apartment and he couldn't remember the last time he even thought about picking up a pencil to sketch, let alone a brush to paint.
His days mostly consisted of work, come home, shower, eat, pass out on the couch, and then wake up to do it all over again. It was like he was stuck in a rut, like there was no way out.
Maybe moving in with Carter would help him…
He couldn't complain too much. It really wasn't the worst night, his heat had finally kicked on so he sat with a light throw blanket and a bowl of cereal on the couch, watching shitty reruns on TV before he began to nod off.
The blissful half-sleep was cut short when the phone rang loudly and unwavering in the kitchen. The first time, he ignored it. It was much too late and chances were, it was work calling to ask him to come in for a shift tomorrow.
When it rang for a second time, he begrudgingly got up from the couch and lifted the phone off the hook and brought it to his ear, stifling a yawn.
"Hello?" He answered tiredly, rubbing his eyes. "Yes, this is Will."
"Good evening, Mr. Byers, this is Officer Briggs from the NYPD," The man said calmly over the phone, "I have you listed as a secondary emergency contact for a Jonathan Byers?"
Will felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on his head, "Oh…? I'm his brother, yeah. Is, um, is he in trouble?"
The officer was quiet for a moment.
"Mr. Byers, there's been a very serious accident…"
The officer's words became jumbled up in Will's head, he said more words, but they fell on deaf ears.
The phone dropped from his hands, hanging by the wire as Will rushed out his apartment door.