Archive of Our Own

The light of a cigarette was the last thing Mike had expected to see tonight.

To be fair, the only thing he’s supposed to see tonight is the underside of the bunk above him. As per Nancy’s ‘Apocalypse Rules’, no one is allowed to be out past sundown except night patrol, and night patrol is reserved for adults only.

Mike thinks it’s a dumb rule. Demogorgons can kill them in the day just as easily as they can at night, and it’s not like there’s a real difference between the sixteen year olds and the eighteen year olds. Either way, he’s not opposed to being excluded from night watch, he’s just opposed to being locked inside like a pet dog.

He can’t breathe in there. His house doesn’t feel like his house anymore, with half their crew crammed inside like sardines. The other half have taken over the neighbor’s house, since they fled with the rest of Hawkins, and it’s better not to be so far.

Mike hates it. He hates knowing that there’s nothing he can do. He can’t fight like Nancy. He doesn’t have powers like El. He can’t even be an emotional support to El, not since she dumped him for good back when the gates first open. He couldn’t be mad at her, though, not when he’d been a shitty boyfriend the whole time they were dating.

So he sneaks out from time to time. Usually when Steve is on night patrol, since his hearing has been bad in his left ear ever since Billy smacked him across the face with a ceramic plate. Mike knows that if he waits for Steve to turn his head just so, he can make a break for it, and Steve won’t hear the quiet creak of the door or the rustle of the leaves beneath his feet. He never goes far. He just likes being able to breathe the air that’s only slightly less toxic than the Upside Down. He likes being able to move freely without worrying about smacking into one of the twenty other people in the house. He likes the freedom.

He had been under the impression that he was the only one sneaking out, but now, less than a mile away from his house, Mike can see someone on a porch, smoking a cigarette.

His first thought is Hopper. He’s the biggest smoker of them all. But the figure is smaller than Hop. Larger than Joyce, who would be his next guess. It looks like a guy. Lanky. Young.

Mike approaches from behind, wondering if maybe someone failed to evacuate. If maybe it’s a trap. He’s maybe twenty feet away when he recognizes the burnt amber of Kas’s jacket and freezes in place.

Vecna’s right hand man. A soldier. According to Lucas, he never spoke to Max in her visions, merely stood from the side and glared with deep brown eyes and a vivid red scar over one eye. El says he has powers like Vecna, but he isn’t one of the numbers. She doesn’t know where he came from. None of them do. They don’t know his motive, or why he’s helping Vecna, or how he came to have access to the powers that El guards so fiercely. And now Mike can see him sitting cross-legged on the porch of a random house, blowing smoke.

He should kill him. Mike doesn’t have many weapons. He can’t fight. But he does have a pocket knife. If he got close enough, he could stab him in the neck. Remove a variable from this fight. Would it be enough? If Kas is like Vecna, his powers are similar. What if he makes Mike float? Or snaps his neck with a flick of the wrist? Is that a risk Mike can afford to take? Is it a risk he can afford to not take?
“I don’t bite,” Kas says, flicking a bit of ash away as he glances at Mike out of the corner of his eye. The only light is the faint burning red from the butt of the cigarette and the faded streetlight overhead. He doesn’t look angry. He doesn’t even look scary. He looks like he could be a student at Hawkins High, if not for the scar.

“I have reasons to believe that’s not entirely true,” Mike responds, stilted. He should run. He should fight. He should do something other than stand here and have a chat with the enemy.

Kas laughs, the sound soft. “I guess that’s fair. I don’t bite right now, I should say. I can’t make any promises for tomorrow.”

“You calling a truce?” Mike asks. Kas shrugs, scooting over. There’s plenty of space on the porch, but the invitation is clear. Mike should scoff, or yell, or just leave.

He sits beside him, leaving a good foot of distance between them. Not as much as he should, probably, but enough that he doesn’t feel as bad about it. His hand wraps around the pocket knife in his jacket, pulling one of the blade out slowly.

“I guess you could say that,” Kas murmurs. “Not that I have much say in the matter.”

“What does that mean?” Mike asks. He can feel a million more questions burning under his skin, but he doesn’t dare press too hard. Any action could lead to Kas changing his mind. Killing him. Simple as that.

Kas shrugs, burning out the cigarette butt on the pavement and tossing it aside. “It doesn’t care to control me much at night, but I can’t really do anything if it does.”

“It…?” Mike says.

“The Shadow Monster,” Kas says. “What? You think I want to be out here committing murders and working for that monster. If I had any dignity left I’d kill myself right now. Take myself off the board. I’m a coward.”

Mike’s mind is reeling. The Shadow Monster… that must be what he calls the Mindflayer. He’s controlled. Like Billy. Mike doesn’t know what to make of it.

“Why don’t you?”

Kas glances up, quirking an eyebrow over soft hazel eyes. That’s funny. Mike could’ve sworn he’d been told they were brown.

“What?”

“Take yourself off the board. Why don’t you do it?”

Kas bites his lip, huffing out a mournful laugh. “Because I have hope. Even if it’s useless. My family… Henry made sure they wouldn’t be there. He… took me from them. First physically, then from their minds. They don’t even know I exist. But I still… I would give anything to see them again. To go home. Even though they don’t care.”

“He… erased you? From their memories?” Mike says, stunned. Kas nods. “Well… maybe we could help. Eleven could use her powers to bring them back, I bet.”

Kas shakes his head. “She wouldn’t. If she found me, she would kill me. She should kill me.” He stares at his hands. “I keep thinking you’re going to do it. You have that knife, don’t you?”

“Is that why you invited me over here?” Mike asks, his fingers curling around the blade and pressing it back into its place. Putting it away. Leaving himself defenseless. “You wanted me to kill you.”

“Yes,” Kas says. “I can’t do it myself. But… but if you did it. I wouldn’t fight. Not now.”

“I’m not gonna kill you,” Mike tells him. He almost can’t believe it himself. He knows then and there that he can never tell Nancy about this conversation. Or anyone, really. They’d be furious. He’s furious at himself. Kas took part in all of this. Barb’s death. Bob’s. Eddie’s. Max. If Mike were a better person, he’d do it right now. But there’s something familiar about this boy. Something worth saving.

“Do you come here often?” Mike asks, trying to change the subject.

Kas shrugs. “The Shadow Monster doesn’t bother me here. Not unless Henry wants it to. If I’m not fighting, I’m not worth it. I… spend my time. Whatever I have. I try to read. To sleep. I entertain myself in whatever ways I can. Try to forget… what’s wrong with me.”

“We can help you,” Mike says. “We can… get it out of you. Help you find your family.”

Kas sobs through his laugh, his eyes teary. He looks ethereal like this. Magical. “I don’t think it works like that, Mike. Thank you, though. I… appreciate it.”

Mike thinks the way his name sounds on Kas’s tongue is beautiful. “What’s your name?” he asks.

Kas smiles, wry. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?”

“Because. It doesn’t mean anything that way. Besides, I’m sure you and your friends have already come up with a name for me. D&D related, I’m sure.”

Mike barks out a laugh. “You read me like a book,” he says, amused. “Is Kas alright with you?”

Kas nods, a hum of understanding. “Because you call Henry Vecna. I see.”

“You know D&D?” Mike asks, surprised.

“I loved it,” Kas says. 

“Maybe… when all of this is over… you could do a campaign with us. Our Party.”

Kas shakes his head. “I’m not going to survive this, Mike. Not if all goes well.”

Mike frowns. “That’s bullshit. You… you deserve to live too.”

It’s amazing, how quickly he’s been swayed. He supposes that this could be manipulation. He could be falling right into Vecna’s trap. It doesn’t feel like it though.

Kas blinks, and a pair of tears fall down his face, silent. “Thank you for this,” he whispers.

“I didn’t even do anything,” Mike says.

“You did everything.”

He puts a hand on Mike’s shoulder, his fingers cold even through the layers of fabric, and when Mike blinks he’s gone.

The next night, Mike is already sitting inside the house, sprawled across a couch, when Kas walks through the door, a heavy bag over his shoulder. He freezes in the entryway when he notices him, narrowing his eyes, and then walks right up to him, arms crossed.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Mike says airily.

Kas rolls his eyes. “Why did you come here?” he says with no preamble.

“To see you,” Mike says, sitting upright. It had been a bit more difficult this time, with Robin on guard duty, but all Mike had to do was throw a rock in the opposite direction and she silently debated checking it long enough that he was able to get through. “How are you?”

“Did you tell anyone about me?” Kas asks.

Mike shakes his head, pauses, realizes that maybe he shouldn’t admit that, and continues shaking his head. 

“You should,” Kas says, marching off towards the kitchen. He slings his bag onto the counter, and by the time Mike reaches the kitchen, he’s pulling groceries out of it. Bags of dry pasta, cans of tomato sauce, the kind of things that don’t go bad. The things that could survive six months of apocalypse. It’s a pitiful meal that Mike watches him put together, lighting the stove with a match and putting on a pot of water he poured out of bottles.

“A little late to be eating, isn’t it?” he says, leaning against the counter as Kas frowns at his water, turning the heat up a little higher.

“The Shadow Monster doesn’t need to eat. I take whatever time I can.”

“Isn’t it worried about you… I don’t know, starving?”

Kas scoffs. “Henry would just kidnap another child to do his bidding.”

Mike’s chest tightens, like a blade has been driven between his ribs and into his pounding heart. He thinks about Erica, the youngest of their crew. He thinks about Holly, hopefully safe far away from here, but he has no way of contacting her.

“How old were you when he took you?”

Kas’s frown deepens. “Twelve.”

Something clicks. “When El first escaped the lab.”

Kas nods. “He was after her. He didn’t manage to find her. I was… the next best thing.”

“That’s horrible,” Mike says. Kas doesn’t look like he believes him.

“It’s what it is. I’m glad she’s safe. Safe as she can be in times like these, at least. Here.”

He hands a knife to Mike, then turns his back. Mike is confused for a moment before he turns around with the can of tomato sauce. He couldn’t even swing for a jar of pasta sauce, apparently.

“Can you open this?” he asks, turning back around to glare at his pot of water.

Mike tosses the knife into the sink and stares at him as he pulls out the can opener. “I’m not going to kill you,” he tells him.

“You should,” Kas says. “Right through the heart. Or the head. I’m not too picky.”

“I don’t want to kill you.”

“But you should.”

“I want to help you,” Mike says. “Can… can you let me help you?”

Kas doesn’t respond, simply pouring the entire box of pasta into water that was barely bubbling. Mike doesn’t push him.

Kas stares at his wrist, checking the time on his watch, and then takes the can of tomato sauce from Mike and sets it aside.

“Hey,” Mike says, catching his wrist gently. “We have the same watch.”

Kas is quiet for a long moment, his face carefully blank. “So we do,” he says at last.

His arm is cold, his pulse pounding beneath Mike’s fingers. He lets go.

Kas turns to the shelf and pulls out a handful of spices, dumping them into the can in a way that looks random to Mike. Joyce is the same way. She’s convinced she can make a better, cheaper pasta sauce from nothing but a can, and if Kas is anything like her, he can.

“Are you hungry?” Kas asks as he turns the stove off, the first thing he’s said in several minutes.

“I could eat,” Mike responds. He’s not hungry, really, but he has a feeling that any response in the negative will result in Kas subtly trying to kick him out.

Kas prepares two bowls, running his fingers over the ceramic to ensure they’re clean of dust before he piles pasta and sauce on top, handing one to Mike and carrying the other over to the couch. Mike remembers to grab forks and offers one to him with the prongs facing away, in case he tries to throw himself onto the points or something. (Not that Mike thinks he will. He’s made it clear he doesn’t want to die. He just wants things to change.)

“Thank you,” Kas says. “It’s… been a long time since I’ve eaten with anyone.”

Mike smiles. He has tomato sauce on his cheek. It’s endearing.

It’s three days before Mike is able to return to Kas. Night one, Nancy was on patrol, and there was no way he was getting through her. Night two, Lucas and Dustin wanted to hang out and Mike couldn’t find a time to get away. Night three was Hopper’s turn on patrol and Mike knew he had a tendency to shoot first and ask questions later.

Night four was Joyce’s turn, and so Mike waited for her to turn away and snuck out, clutching his bag tight to his chest. Kas is already there, waiting on the porch, and he lights up when he sees Mike. Then he turns away, trying to pretend he didn’t do such a thing, but it’s too late. Mike has seen.

“I have a present for you,” he says, offering his backpack.

Kas is hesitant, but takes it slowly. “Is it a bomb?” he asks, his tone playful.

“I’m not even going to bother responding to that,” he returns.

Kas pulls out an apple, looking up at Mike sharply.

“We have a guy who brings shipments. I figure you probably don’t have the same luxury. I’d hate to see you get scurvy and have all your teeth fall out. That’s a real thing that can happen, you know.”

Kas stares at the apple in wonder. “These were my favorite,” he says. “But my brother always preferred oranges, so that was what we usually got.”

“You have a brother?”

Kas stiffens. “It doesn’t matter.” He’s tense again, his fist white as it clenches around the fruit. Mike sits beside him.

“Can you tell me your name?”

Kas shakes his head.

“You physically can’t tell me, or you won’t tell me.”

Kas’s hazel eyes burn into his skin as he looks at him. The sense of longing is almost too much to bear. “It won’t mean anything if I tell you.”

Mike nods, pretending that makes sense. It’s about the same thing he said the first time Mike asked, anyway.

“Can I guess?”

Kas snorts. “You can try.”

“Kevin?”

“No.”

“Caleb?”

“No.”

“Carl—”

“Okay,” Kas interrupts with a laugh. “How about you get one guess a day?”

“Okay but can I get one more for today?”

Kas pauses, pursing his lips in thought. “Fine.”

“Carter?”

“Nope,” Kas says, popping the p. “Try again next time.”

“I’m a pretty good guesser,” Mike says. “I think I can figure it out.”

Kas seems amused by this, and something about it just makes Mike want to wrap his arms around him and hug him tightly.

“Try again tomorrow, Mike.”

“Okay,” Mike says. Then he leans forward and takes a bite out of the apple.

Kas honest-to-god squawks in offense, yanking his arm away and clutching the bag to his chest. “That’s mine,” he says.

“You snooze, you lose. I’m hungry,” Mike jokes, jumping up after him.

Kas’s laugh echoes through the street around them, and then he’s biting the apple, right over the place Mike’s mouth had just been. He closes his eyes, savoring the taste.

“Is it good?” Mike asks, somehow nervous. He wants it to taste good. He wants it to be a good present.

“Shouldn’t you know?” Kas asks, gesturing to the juice dribbling from Mike’s chin. Mike wipes it off with his thumb and licks it, watching Kas’s eyes linger on the gesture.

“It’s good,” Mike says quietly. Kas nods, his eyes still fixed on Mike’s thumb.

“There are about a hundred other books I could recommend you off the top of my head that would be more enjoyable than that one,” Mike says, kicking off his shoes in the entryway. Kas smiles from his place on the couch. A single lamp lights his face, just enough for him to see the book he’s reading. History of the English Language.

“I haven’t been to a school since I was twelve,” he points out. “I have to learn somehow.”

“I haven’t been to school since last spring,” Mike admits. “And I definitely haven’t tried to keep learning.”

Kas folds down the corner of his page, making Mike grimace, and sets it aside, letting Mike sit beside him, their knees knocking together. “You’re going to be behind when all of this is over,” he says. “I hope you’re ready to repeat freshman year.”

“I’ll just test out,” Mike says with a shrug. “Then I won’t have to. That’s what Dustin’s planning.”

Kas hums. “You nearly failed fifth grade science. I wouldn’t count on that.”

Mike pauses, trying to mask the shock on his face. “Well, I bet I can,” he says, slightly strained. How had Kas known that? Had he been in his head? That was the logical explanation, sure, but Mike wasn’t convinced.

He hadn’t heard anything of Kas going into people’s minds, at least not alone, and Mike hadn’t experienced any symptoms of Vecna’s visions. If he wasn’t a victim of Vecna, which he was almost positive was true, then that meant Kas must have learned his information another way. And Mike had a bad feeling he knew what that was.

“Do you want to go on a walk?” he asks.

Kas shakes his head. “That’s not safe,” he says.

Mike waves his concerns away with a hand as he stands up, offering his palm for Kas to grasp. “I have you to protect me,” he says, fighting back a shiver when cold skin meets his own. He wants to wrap him up under a pile of blankets. To protect him. Maybe… maybe there’s a reason he feels that way.

“Fine,” Kas says. “But if you get eaten I’m leaving.”

Hawkins is strangely ethereal in the darkness. Some of the streetlights are out, leaving dark pockets along the road. Flecks of ash and dust float through the air on a light breeze, like snow. There’s no crickets chirping or dogs barking or anything to suggest life left in Hawkins. Mike supposes that there isn’t really life left. Not outside of his crew.

“Are you from Hawkins?” Mike asks, breaking the silence. Kas breathes, shaky. If he weren’t walking so close their elbows were bumping, Mike might not have heard it.

“Yes,” he admits, glancing at Mike and turning away just as quick. “My… my family lived here. I grew up here.”

“It’s weird, seeing it like this,” Mike says.

Kas hums. “I’ve gotten used to it. It’s weird knowing that we’re in the real world. It’s… it’s been a long time since I’ve… seen the sun.”

Mike frowns. “Well, you’re out in the day now, right? I mean, Hawkins is abandoned, what difference does it make?”

Kas shakes his head. “He likes it cold.” His hand traces the back of his neck. “As long as he exists within me, I… stay away from warmth.”

When he lowers his hand, it’s shaky, and Mike takes it in his, the same way he did back at the house, when he helped him to his feet. The tips of his fingers are laced with a chill, and Mike carefully twines their fingers together, letting them warm up, a bit closer to a normal body temperature. Kas sighs contentedly.

“You should try it,” Mike says. “Going out in the sun. You’ve got to be ridiculously Vitamin D deficient.”

“I take supplements,” Kas argues. Mike nearly trips over his own feet as he laughs.

“Was that Vecna’s idea or yours?” he says through his giggles. Kas is smiling back at him, though he’s clearly trying to fight it. He has a gap between his teeth.

“Mine,” he admits. “I started getting dizzy when I stood up too fast, and I was tired all the time. I read about it and then stole some out of someone’s house in the Upside Down.”

“You’re smarter than me,” Mike tells him. “I probably would have just assumed that I was dying and accepted my fate.”

Kas laughs, their hands swinging between them as they walk. “You’re more of a fighter than you think, Mike.”

“So are you, Casper.”

Kas raises his eyebrows. “The Friendly Ghost? That’s your guess?”

“Kas, Casper. They’re similar enough!”

“You picked Kas!”

Mike’s smile drops. “Oh shit, I forgot.”

Kas cackles, dropping his hand to clutch at his stomach.

“Wait, does your name even start with a K sound? I was so sure! Stop laughing at me, it’s a reasonable assumption!”

Kas has tears in his eyes by the time he’s done laughing, and Mike can’t help but smile at it. He laughs pretty.

“No,” he says. “My name doesn’t start with a K sound.”

Mike shoves him, just enough that he won’t fall over. “You have let me spend the past two weeks guessing only K sounds and you knew the whole time that I wasn’t even moving in the right direction!”

“I never promised any hints,” Kas says, pointing at him. “You should be grateful you got one to begin with.”

Mike rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “Whatever. I’m gonna have a really good guess tomorrow. So you’d better be ready.”

“Oh, I’m shaking in my boots,” Kas says. “I just know you’re going to get it.”

“Uh huh. You’d better be.”

They walk in silence for a moment, before Mike breaks it with the question he’s been wanting to know since they started out.

“I know you, don’t I?” he says. Kas’s face crumples, and Mike knows the answer then and there.

“Mike, I can’t—”

“I’m not asking you to tell me more,” he promises. “I won’t. I just… I just needed to know. For me.”

Kas looks guilty, looking up at him, and Mike wonders how he could have ever believed that this boy was evil. He wants to wrap him up and protect him from the world. From Vecna.

“I know you think you won’t get out of this,” he says, soft and resolute. “But I swear to you. I am going to bring you home. I’ll find you, Kas. No matter how long it takes. I… I lost you once, and I don’t even remember. I’ll bring you home.”

“Thank you, Mike,” he whispers.

“Ow,” Mike says. “You’re bad at this.”

Kas flicks him in the head. “You’re my teacher, so what does that say about you?” He tugs on Mike’s hair more, trying to pull it into something resembling a braid.

“That I have a terrible student?” Kas pulls harder and Mike lets out an embarrassing squeak of pain.

“This is not going to look pretty,” Kas says, sounding unsure.

“That’s okay,” Mike tells him. “I never used to worry about it, but El’s been enjoying having someone to practice on, since hers is short now, and I actually really like having it tied back like that. I feel like I look like a moron when it’s in a ponytail.”

His neck is craned slightly awkwardly, sitting on the floor in front of the couch with Kas behind him, trying his best to braid Mike’s messy curls in the faint light.

Kas is quiet for a moment. “I think you look nice when you wear a ponytail,” he says softly. Mike’s cheeks burn, and he can only hope it’s dark enough that Kas can’t see it.

“What do I do when I finish?” Kas says, and Mike hands him the hair tie he’s been twisting between his thumbs. “Verdict?” he says, tossing the braid over Mike’s shoulder. It’s not long enough that it stays that way, sliding back over to hang behind him. Mike runs a hand down his head. There’s stray hairs everywhere, it’s tied off way before the end of his hair, and he’s pretty sure one strand of the braid is thicker than both the others combined.

“It’s perfect,” he says, moving from the floor to the couch where he can sit beside Kas. His mouth is pursed, like he doesn’t believe him (he shouldn’t, Mike is one hundred percent lying), but he doesn’t call him on it.

In fact, he doesn’t say anything. He’s staring blankly at the couch, frozen in place.

“Kas?” Mike tries, resting a hand on his shoulder. He jerks back like he’s been shocked, pressing his palms to his eyes. A grimace is painted on his lips. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t move, face fixed in pain. Mike doesn’t dare touch him again.

After a long moment of Mike panicking, Kas takes a shuddering breath and lowers his hands.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks, casual as can be.

“Are you okay? What was that?”

“Do you have plans?” Kas asks, brushing him off. Mike frowns at him, but Kas doesn’t falter. “You should make plans,” he says. “Away from your house. All of you.”

Ice runs through Mike’s veins. Oh. Kas’s hands are shaking, and Mike grabs one of them. “I don’t think we can do that,” he says.

“It’s dangerous,” Kas says.

“We can take him,” Mike responds.

“I can’t—” his breath hitches. “I can’t have you there, Mike. I can’t. I can’t stop him. If - if he hurts you—”

“He won’t,” Mike promises, grabbing his other hand. Kas presses his eyes shut, lips trembling.

“But… if I hurt you… I’ll never forgive myself.”

“I’ll be okay,” Mike says. “It’ll be okay.”

“I can’t stay here,” Kas says, eyes shut. “It’s getting suspicious. It wants me back. He wants me back.”

Mike is sick with the thought of it. He doesn’t want him to go back there. He doesn’t want him to have to face that awful creature. It’s not safe. He wants to hold him in his arms, where he can take care of him. Make sure nothing happens to him.

“Be careful, James,” Mike says.

Kas opens his eyes, brown irises shadowed with tears as he smiles. “Nope.”

“Damn.”

“You be careful too, Mike.” Mike nods. “I mean it. Don’t… just… be careful.”

“I will.”

“How did you know?” Nancy says, sharp, staring at Mike. Mike stiffens beneath her watchful gaze.

“Know what?” he tries, uselessly. He doesn’t like lying to his sister, but he especially doesn’t like lying when she’s holding a massive gun.

“It’s been quiet for weeks and the one day you tell us to be on guard we happen to get attacked? I’m not stupid, Mike.”

“I don’t know,” Mike says. He can’t tell her the truth. He can’t. “I just… had a feeling.”

Nancy frowns, but there’s not much more she can do. She has to get back out there. The demodogs are circling the house. El’s taken a dozen out already, Hopper half that many, but the swarm continues. They’re like flies, drawn to the group like rot. Mike can only hope they’ll give in. They certainly weren’t expecting the group to be this prepared. They wouldn’t have been, if not for Mike’s warning. For Kas’s.

“We’ve got company!” Lucas yells. They’re upstairs, hiding. Or, Mike is hiding. He’s not allowed to fight, given he has no experience or skill with any weapons. Lucas is standing watch, and Nancy is beside him, shooting from above.

“More dogs or full grown?” Dustin asks, radio in hand. His job is to transfer information to the group downstairs and next-door.

“Kas,” Lucas says, and Mike stiffens, running to the window to stand behind them. There he is, walking through the hordes of dogs like they’re harmless pets. He stands tall, rigid in a way he never is with Mike. He’s not in control.

“I’ve got eyes on him,” Lucas says.

“Me too,” Nancy says, gun raised.

“Wait,” Mike hurries, her finger pausing on the trigger.

“For what?” she snaps.

“Uh,” Mike tries, desperately searching for an excuse. She can’t kill him, but it’s not as though he can tell her why that is. If he says she can’t kill him because he’s innocent, she’ll want clarification, and Mike can’t explain why he knows what he does.

“Hold,” Lucas says. “El’s after him.”

Nancy huffs, shooting at one of the many dogs. She can’t aim for Kas with El so close. Mike relaxes minutely. He can’t relax completely. Not with two of the most important people in his life fighting to the death.

They’re far off, too far for him to make out many details, but he can see a bit. He can see the way light posts and benches are ripped from the ground to attack, the way they fling themselves up in the air to dodge. There’s so much power in their actions. Mike feels sick.

“Why doesn’t she just snap his neck?” Dustin mutters, beside Mike. Mike nearly snaps back about how El should just snap his neck, but he controls himself.

“Too much focus,” Lucas says. Of course he’s already asked that question. Mike wants to throw a chair. “And he would be able to resist with his powers. Plus, it’s not like she wants to give him the idea.”

There’s a bang as an explosion ripples the ground, one of the homemade bombs Hopper and Murray have been working on destroying a house across the street, setting half the demodogs on fire. In the distance, Kas crumples, and Mike’s heart stops beating.

“Come on,” Lucas mutters, the only one with a good view through his telescope. “Take him out.”

Mike is going to throw up. He’s frozen in place. Kas is in danger. He’s hurt. He might die. He’s in trouble.

The demodogs swarm the area and El throws her arms down, shooting herself up in the air and back towards them. It’s insane that she can basically fly now, but Mike is too relieved to think about that. She’s pulling back. Kas is okay. 

Or, well, he’s okay in the general sense. He’s still under the Mind Flayer’s control. He’s still going back to Vecna. But he’s alive. In a time like this, that’s about all Mike can hope for.

“Damn it,” Nancy swears, as the demodogs flee and Kas is no longer visible. God, Mike hopes he’s not injured.

“Not over yet,” Lucas sighs, lowering his binoculars. “Don’t worry. I’m sure it won’t be much longer.”

“Right,” Nancy says, glancing back at Mike. She still looks suspicious, probably wondering more about why he had known what would happen. “Your hair looks stupid,” she says, and Mike goes pink, raising a hand to the messy braid. 

“Whatever,” he mumbles, refusing to meet her curious eyes.

It’s two days before precautions have lifted enough for Mike to sneak out, and he goes weak at the knees when he sees Kas asleep on the couch of the usual house. His cheek is bruised, but he’s okay.

“Thank god,” he sighs, plopping down beside him. He doesn’t mean to wake him, but Kas is a light sleeper, and his eyes flutter open, softening when they land on Mike.

“Hi,” he says, voice hoarse. He gets like that any time Mike hasn’t seen him in a few days. Mike doesn’t think he ever speaks when he’s not with him. His voice doesn’t get used to the disuse.

“Are you okay?” he asks, hands twitching with the urge to check over every inch of him, to make sure nothing is broken or bleeding.

“I’m fine,” Kas says. “Are you?”

Mike nods. “I was out of the range of danger, promise.”

Kas’s eyes dart around, inspecting him to check the validity of his words, but, as expected, he doesn’t find any damage, and he sits up from where he’d been laying.

“You scared me,” Mike admits.

“I scared myself,” Kas says. “I don’t… I don’t remember entirely what happened. It’s always a bit blurry when it’s in control. But I know I almost hurt Eleven. I tried to. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t… I should be able to control it. It’s my body. But I just… I can’t stop it. I’m sorry.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Mike says. “You just… collapsed. I thought she was going to kill you, Gabe.”

“No,” Kas says, at the guess. “And I wouldn’t have minded.”

Mike frowns, reaching out to trace the bruise on his cheek. “You know I hate it when you talk like that.” He’s managed to slow the self-deprecating talk, for the most part. Kas no longer hands him sharp objects or tells him he should kill him. Sometimes, though, he slips back into those habits.

“Sorry,” Kas says. “I just… I hate being connected to it. The fire is the worst of it. He likes it cold. Whenever it gets hot like that, I just… god, it’s like it’s burning me from the inside out. I can feel it under my skin. Like he wants out. It’s… it feels like it did when it first took me.”

Mike listens silently, hoping his pain isn’t too visible on his face. It is, if the way Kas looks at him is any indication.

“Sorry,” he says. “I don’t mean to… to be miserable, or anything.”
“You have every right to be miserable, Kas,” Mike tells him. “You’re a lot nicer than I would be in your shoes.”

Kas smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“You’re the first person who ever treated me like I was allowed to be sad,” he says. Mike doesn’t know if he’s talking about now or Before. When Mike knew him. It’s not something he likes to think about. It doesn’t feel good to admit that he forgot someone he knew. He hasn’t asked Kas how well they actually knew each other, but he knows deep down that they were more than just acquaintances. Mike wants to grab him by the shoulders and scream. To beg him to tell him every single detail they ever shared. Memories, moments, stories, everything. He wants to know what’s been taken from him. He’s too afraid to ask.

“I brought you something,” Mike says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a deck of cards. Kas grins.

“What? You want to lose a game?”

“I want to win a game,” Mike corrects, sliding down to the floor where there’s a flat surface and patting the space across from him for Kas to join him. “It’ll be fun, trust me.”

“I do.” Mike’s stomach flutters.

They hang out for nearly two hours, longer than usual, and Mike has a skip in his step on his way home. His hair is freshly braided, this one much better than the last, and there’s a warmth in his body that’s been missing ever since he watched Kas crumple to the floor two days ago. He needs to come up with something really fun for next time. Kas enjoyed the cards more than Mike expected, but then again, he probably hasn’t actually played a game in years.

Maybe Mike can bring his old water guns. Would that be too much? Or he could bring his D&D set and teach Kas how to play. They wouldn’t be able to actually play a campaign, not just the two of them, but it would be fun.

Or—maybe Kas already knows how to play. After all, he had known Mike before. And he’d known that Mike had probably named him after a D&D character. Ugh, Mike misses him already.

Steve isn’t at his position, and Mike rolls his eyes. He’s going to get banned from night watch at this point. Not that Mike’s going to rat him out for abandoning his station. Not as long as it continues to serve him well. He’s probably in the kitchen stealing snacks from their rations.

Mike hurries past his post, twisting open the back door as quietly as he can and slipping inside.

“You are in so much trouble,” Nancy says, and Mike freezes.

He spins around, his sister standing before him with her arms crossed, tapping her foot.

“For what? Having to piss?”

“That’s a poor excuse and you know it.” It is. The toilets still flush, thankfully. “Besides, you’ve been gone for hours.”

Mike stiffens. “Oh. Um. No I haven’t.”

Nancy narrows her eyes. “Get over here.”

She marches off and Mike mournfully follows her to the kitchen, which is full of people.

Joyce sighs in relief when she sees him, then glares. “Michael,” she snaps. “You are in so much trouble.”

“I swear I don’t know how he got out,” Steve says, raising his hands. Okay, apparently he hadn’t just abandoned his post.

“It doesn’t matter how he got out, it matters how many times this has happened before,” Hopper says. “He shouldn’t be able to sneak out, but he definitely shouldn’t be able to sneak back in.”

He turns his gaze on Mike, expectant. “I’ve never done this before,” he says innocently.

“He’s lying,” Dustin and Lucas say in unison. Goddamnit. He hates having friends who know his tells.

“I don’t understand why you would risk your life like this?” Joyce says. “Mike, you could have died. You understand that, right? It’s not safe out there, especially with how recently we’ve been attacked.”
“Does this have something to do with you knowing we were going to be attacked?” Nancy says.

“I already told you, I didn’t know. I just… made a lucky guess.”

“Friends don’t lie,” El says. She looks mad. Mike can’t blame her. She doesn’t… she doesn’t understand. None of them do. They don’t know how important it is that Mike go out there and find him. That he be with Kas. They don’t understand that pull he has. “Where did you go?”

Mike looks at her. He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t keep lying. They’ll know and they’ll hate him. But if he tells them the truth then they’ll know and they’ll hate him.

He hesitates.

“The truth, Mike,” Nancy says. “Or we’re locking you in a room until you realize why it’s dangerous to go out there alone.”

“I wasn’t alone,” Mike snaps. Stupid. He shouldn’t have said that. Now they’re all staring.

“Well,” Jonathan says slowly. “We’ve already done a headcount and everyone else is here, so who were you with?”

Mike doesn’t say anything.

“Answer the question,” Hopper says sharply.

“I was with Kas,” Mike snaps. The entire room stares at him. Then it erupts into noise.

Mike closes his eyes, letting everyone yell. There has to be a solution to this. There has to be.

 I can feel it under my skin. Like he wants out. 

Mike opens his eyes. “Wait,” he says. The room quiets, slowly. “I have an idea,” he says.

“I think you need to walk us through why you thought hanging out with Vecna’s right hand man was a good idea before you start explaining your ideas,” Hopper says.

“He’s not evil,” Mike tells them. “I—” he sighs. “I didn’t mean to, at first. I snuck out to get some air and when I ran into him he was just… smoking. He’s young, Hopper. Younger than we thought. He can’t be any older than us, in the Party. He’s flayed. Like Billy. The Mind Flayer gives him a bit of room at night, when he’s not fighting, and so I just… I talk to him. I don’t know. He’s nice. Vecna erased him from his family’s memories. No one remembers him. He kidnapped him back when El first escaped the lab. He was after her, and he caught Kas instead. But… I think we can help him.”

“If you know him now, why don’t you know his name?” Dustin asks.

Mike frowns. “He won’t tell me, but—” There’s clear disapproval at this. Distrust. “Listen. He’s not evil. I know it. But I think I know how to get the Mind Flayer out of him. To save him.”

“We’re not saving anything,” Hopper says. “It’s too dangerous. End of discussion.”

“He likes it cold,” Mike says. “That’s what he told me. He said that the other day, when you burned those demodogs, the Mind Flayer didn’t like it. He said it felt like he wanted out.”

“What are you saying?” Joyce asks.

“I’m saying we burn it out of him,” Mike says. “Get the Mind Flayer out. Get him on our side. Get him to safety.”

Nancy shakes her head. “You don’t even know if it’ll work.”

“I don’t,” Mike admits. “But if it does, that’s a big blow to Vecna’s forces. And a big gain for us.”

Joyce frowns, and Hopper looks at her. Mike does too. Hopper will do whatever she agrees to.

“He’s just a kid,” Mike says softly. “He didn’t ask for any of this. He just… wants to go home.”

Joyce nods. “Let’s do it.”

They head over to Kas’s house around 5 pm the next day, arms full of every space heater and blanket they could get their hands on. Hopper had chains to cuff him with, which had make Mike sick, but he couldn’t exactly deny it. He was grateful enough that they were going through with it.

“This is it,” Mike says, gesturing with his chin to the house ahead of them.

Joyce pauses. “This is where he’s been staying?”

“Yeah,” Mike says. “Or, lately, at least. I don’t know if he always picked this place, but this is where I found him, and we’ve pretty much just stayed here.”

“This was my parents house,” Joyce says. “Before they passed.”

“Oh,” Mike says, staring at it with new eyes. Kas had never given a reason to explain why this was the house he chose, and Mike had always considered it had been random, but what if…

“Let’s get set up,” Nancy says firmly. “We need to be prepared for when he gets here.”

Four hours later, Mike is on the porch, waiting. The lights are out inside, hiding the group that’s chosen to help. Joyce, Hopper, Nancy, and El. Along with Mike himself, of course.

He sees Kas long before he arrives, his smile gentle. He has a bag over his shoulder.

“Hey,” he says once he’s close enough. “I got some food. You hungry?”

“I could eat,” Mike says, heart pounding. 

“Are you okay?” Kas asks, frowning, his brown eyes studying him. “You look… sick.”

“I’m fine,” Mike says. “Just… missed you.”

Kas softens around the edges. “I missed you too,” he tells him. “I can’t get the oven to work here, so it’s just pasta again, is that alright?”

“Totally fine by me,” Mike says, as Kas opens the door, stepping inside without hesitation. He pauses for a moment, unable to see, but likely taking in the intense heat, and Hopper pounces, grabbing him around the neck.

Mike flinches back at the intensity of it, as Kas’s hands reach up to claw at his grip while Hopper drags him towards the bedroom where the heaters are concentrated. Nancy flicks the lights on as Kas screams, angry in a way Mike has never heard. The lights flicker under his rage, and Mike follows as Hopper throws him on the bed and his arms are wrenched to the side at El’s will, her arm held up steadily as Joyce and Hopper each grab one of his arms and cuff him tightly to the mattress.

“Let me go, let me go,” he screeches, an undertone of darkness in his voice. He kicks out, and Mike grabs one of his legs as Nancy takes the other, his hands shaking as he chains him down. “Mike,” he says. “Mike, let go. What are you doing? Let me out. Let me go.”

His screams are loud, his voice hoarse under the weight of them, and Mike bites down on his tongue until it bleeds. A pressure tightens around his throat, leaving him unable to breathe, and El lifts her hand higher until it loosens and Mike gasps for air. Kas’s nose is bleeding.

It’s clear by now that he’s not in control at all. But the others don’t know that. They grimace at the sight of him wrenching at his restraints, screaming profanities, choking on blood as he fights to hurt them with his mind and is stopped by El.

The heat is stifling, already built up for hours before now, and Mike is dripping with sweat in only a few minutes. He’s not the only one. Nancy’s hands are shifting on her gun, her hair sticky on her forehead, and Mike would tie his hair back tighter but he doesn’t want to adjust the braid that Kas tied so gently the day before, not when he’s writhing in agony under the heat.

“This isn’t working,” Hopper says, hefting his gun.

“Don’t you dare,” Mike snaps, Joyce echoing the sentiment.

“He’s just a kid,” she says. Even if she thinks he’s evil, at least she agrees with him on that.

“His neck!” Nancy cries, gesturing with her gun. Black tendrils creep up it, and Mike watches them hopefully. It’s working. It’s working.

Kas chokes, coughing on blood, and Joyce reaches forward and tilts his head to the side so he won’t choke on it. The restraint on his arm snaps open, a half-second of distraction on El’s part letting him break them, and she screams when his hand reaches up and catches Joyce by the throat.

Hopper drops his gun and jumps on top of him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him off of Joyce, who stumbles backward, gasping for air. El holds her, sobbing.

“We can’t do this for long,” Hopper gasps. Kas had merely unlocked the cuff, so he’s able to latch his wrist once more, but he knows now that it’s possible to free himself. El’s concentration is clear, but it will only take a moment for him to break free again.

“You have to fight,” Mike says, stepping forward. “Do you hear me, Kas? Fight him. I know you can. You can get out. Please. I need you to fight.”

Kas screams, loud and high pitched, and he arches off the bed, black tendrils creeping up his neck and pouring out of his throat. The black sand whirls around, breaking through the boards covering the window and shattering the glass, vanishing in the darkness.

Kas goes quiet, and Nancy runs to the walls, unplugging the heaters. Hopper throws open the door, letting some of the oppressing heat out, and Mike runs to Kas.

“Can you hear me, sweetheart?” Joyce asks, unlatching his wrists. They’re bloody from his fighting.

Kas blinks, seeming out of it. His hair is sticking to his forehead, greasy and messily cut. He tries to wash it, Mike knows, but it’s hard for him to find time. His eyes are hazel again.

“Mom?” he mumbles, blinking at Joyce. Mike inhales sharply, unheard by everyone else.

“Oh,” Joyce says, and Mike knows what she’s thinking. She’s thinking that this boy has been abandoned by everyone he loves. That he’s delirious and looking for support anywhere he can find it. Mike has a different theory.

“Hey,” he says, pressing forward and grabbing Kas’s hand in both of his. “Are you okay?”

“Mike,” he breathes when he sees him. “I can’t… I can’t feel him.” Tears well in his eyes, relief evident on his face.

“You’re free,” Mike says. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“Thank you,” Kas says. “Thank you, Mike.” His eyes roll back and he goes still, unconscious.

“It worked,” El says. “He’s okay, Mike.” Her eyes are a bit too knowing for Mike’s comfort, and he drops Kas’s hand quickly.

“Come on,” Joyce says. “Let’s get you all back to the house.”

Kas sleeps for nearly 48 hours, not waking until sundown of the next day. Mike is sitting beside him when he does, as he has been since they brought him back and wrapped him up in Mike’s bed.

“Is this real?” Kas says, as soon as his eyes open.

“It’s real,” Mike says. “You’re free.”

“You saved me,” Kas tells him, smiling against the pillow.

“I couldn’t leave you,” Mike promises. “I wouldn’t. You’re going to be okay.”

Kas nods, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply. “It’s so quiet in my head,” he murmurs. “So… peaceful. Usually I can hear him in the back of my mind. Angry. He’s not there anymore.”

“He’ll never touch you again,” Mike promises. “I won’t let him.”

Kas nods, but they both know it’s not true. Until Vecna is dead, there is no promise that he won’t hurt him.

“Hey,” Mike says. “Can I trade my guess?”

“For what?” Kas asks with a frown.

“Can I guess your last name?”

Kas’s face drops, squeezing his eyes shut in pain. “Mike…”

“You look just like her,” Mike says. “I don’t know how I didn’t realize before.”

“Mike, please,” he begs. “You can’t tell them.”

“Kas, they’re your family. They’d want to know.”

“It’ll just hurt them,” Kas says. “To know that they forgot me. I don’t… I don’t want to hurt them.”

“Okay,” Mike says. “I won’t tell them.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” Mike reaches behind himself, pulling up a bundle of clothes. “I figured you might want to change. And shower.”

Kas’s eyes spark. “Oh my god, a shower.”

Mike grins, biting his lip. “I’ll show you. There are towels under the sink.”

He hands the clothes off, then guides him down the hall and into the bathroom. Kas puts a hand on the door, then locks eyes with him.

“I’ll be here when you get out,” Mike assures him. “It’ll be okay.”

Kas nods, and the door shuts with a click. Mike waits for the shower to start running before he breathes again, figuring he has enough time to go get himself some water before Kas is done.

“Really?” Hopper says, standing in front of the stairs. “You’re going to leave him alone?”

Mike frowns. “He’s not dangerous.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Yes, we do. You and I both saw the Mind Flayer leave him. He’s safe now.”

“Just because he’s not possessed doesn’t mean he’s safe.”

“Yes, it does.”

“Mike,” Nancy interrupts with a sigh. She and Jonathan are on the couch together and god it’s insane that Mike never noticed how similar he looks to Kas. They look like they could be brothers, and Mike is positive they are. “Hopper is just trying to be careful. We don’t want him taking any information back to Vecna.”

“What information could he possibly have? He was unconscious when you brought him here and I’ve been by his side ever since. He hasn’t had a chance to spy.”

“Okay,” Dustin says, leaning against the window. Lucas is sitting on the floor beside him, and Mike is sick of being crammed in a tiny space with these people. “But that doesn’t mean we let our guard down. I mean, we’ve essentially brought a weapon in here. A ticking time bomb, and we don’t know when it’ll go off.”

“He’s not a weapon. He’s a person,” Mike snaps. “You wouldn’t say that about El. She has the same powers.”

“Yeah, and she hasn’t gone on a spree killing high schoolers,” Jonathan says. Mike jerks back. He wants to scream at him. How could you say that? You? Of all people? But he can’t.

“That wasn’t his fault,” Mike says instead.

“Well, until we can confirm that, it would be nice if we had eyes on him at all times.”

Mike doesn’t respond, brushing past Hopper and marching into the kitchen to get himself a glass.

“Wheeler,” Hopper says. Mike fills the glass with tap water. “Do I make myself clear?” he says, enunciating every syllable. God, he’s annoying. Mike takes a nice sip of his water.

“I’ll go keep an eye on him,” Jonathan offers, and Mike chokes on his water.

“No,” he says, too loud. “That’s okay. I can do it.”

Jonathan glares at him, jerking his head towards the stairs. “Then do it.”

“Fine,” Mike snapped. “But someone had better start making some food. He hasn’t eaten in days.”

He grabs a fresh cup and fills it to the brim with water, before marching back up the stairs, slower this time so that he won’t spill.

After about ten minutes of leaning against the wall across from the bathroom, the water stops, and it’s only a few minutes later that the door opens.

Soft is the only word Mike can think to describe him. Kas is wearing a pair of Mike’s sweatpants, rolled up once at the ankles, and one of his favorite sweaters, which hangs loosely over his thin frame. Mike thinks, privately, that he would look even more like Jonathan if he were healthy. If you take away the sunken in cheeks and hollow eyes, and the hair that is, frankly, a disaster.

“You’re going to need that cut,” Mike says, reaching out without thinking and running his hands over the damp locks.

“I did my best,” Kas says, cheeks flushing. Mike hands him his cup.

“Nancy’s pretty good at cutting hair,” he says. “She’s been keeping mine and Jonathan’s in check. Joyce offered to do Jonathan’s, but she pretty much does exclusively bowl cuts, so he politely declined.”

Kas laughs, softly. He’s so soft. His hair, his eyes, his body language.

His eyes are another detail Mike could get lost in. They’re a bright hazel now, so different from the darker brown they get sometimes, when the Mind Flayer is latching on tighter. It’s a good difference.

Kas drains the glass quickly, blissful relief on his face. “Let’s get you some more water,” Mike says. “You’re probably dehydrated. Dinner should be done soon. I think it’s Steve’s turn to cook. He’s better at it than you’d think. Plus, he’s next door, so we don’t have to worry about as many people being here yet.”

“They’re going to have questions, Mike,” Kas says. “They’ll… they’ll want to know the truth. Who I am. I can’t… Mike. I can’t.”

Mike grabs his empty hand, the other clutching the glass so tightly his fingers are white. “I won’t let them, okay? It’s going to be okay. They’ll love you.”

Kas snorts. “I think that’s a bit of a stretch.”

“Trust me. They’ll love you.”

Kas bites his lip, Mike’s eyes drawn to the motion, and nods. “Okay. Let’s… let’s get it over with then.”

“The only ones here right now are Hopper, Nancy, Jonathan, Lucas, and Dustin. The others are all next door. I think. They might be in the basement too, I haven’t checked.”

Hopper’s not at the base of the stairs this time when they approach, but Kas’s hand still tightens in his when they can make out the sound of voices.

Mike glances over, catching the way he mouths a word. Jonathan… That’s who’s talking. God, Mike is sick. He wants to fix this. He just… doesn’t know how.

The room gets quiet when they make it down the stairs, everyone’s eyes landing on them.

“Hi,” Kas says, breathlessly.

“Hi,” Jonathan says with a snorting laugh. He looks amused, already. Mike can’t blame him. It’s hard to think of Kas as this big scary villain when you’re face to face with him like this.

“Here,” Mike says, guiding him to the empty couch. Dustin and Lucas are still on the floor, by the front windows. They’ve probably been keeping an eye out for trouble. Mike’s not going to pass up them leaving the good seating empty. Hopper doesn’t say a word, merely watching them from Ted Wheeler’s armchair. Kas pulls his hand away once they sit, and Mike tries not to mourn the loss of it.

“Are you feeling any better?” Nancy asks. “You were in pretty rough shape the other day.”

Kas presses his lips together, fingers curling against his thigh. “A little,” he says. “It’s all a bit… blurry.”

“That’s convenient,” Hopper mutters. Kas pauses in his twitching, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. There’s a fire in his eyes, and Mike tries to fight back his smirk.

“If you’re trying to say I’m lying, I’m not. I remember you grabbing me by the neck and slamming me against that bed. I remember you chaining me up and holding that fire over me.” For the first time, Mike catches sight of a scattering of bruises on his left wrist. Where Hopper grabbed him. “I don’t remember leaving that place. I don’t remember the Shadow Monster leaving. But I know that it’s gone.”

Hopper presses his lips together. “Alright. You seem pretty confident in yourself.” He sits forward in his chair. “So let me tell you this.”

“Hopper,” Mike warns, ready to start a fight.

“You are a guest here. You try anything or do anything to make me think that you are a danger to my daughter or anyone else here and you’re out. Got it?”

Kas glares, but his eyes shine, and his breath hitches when he inhales.

“Got it,” he says.

“Hey,” Jonathan says, making Kas turn to him. “He’s being an asshole on purpose. You’re safe here, okay? I promise.”

“Okay,” Kas says, throat tight. This is good. 

“I’m Jonathan,” he introduces. Maybe not. Kas startles backward like he’s been punched.

“Right,” he says. “I’m, uh. Kas.”

“Thought that was just the name the kids gave you,” Hopper says.

“We guessed right,” Mike snaps.

“Hopper, leave it,” Nancy says.

Mike glances at Dustin and Lucas, who have been surprisingly quiet during all of this. Lucas looks away. Mike’s heart plummets. Of course Lucas isn’t happy with this. Kas is one of the people who targeted Max. Mike should’ve thought of that.

“Welcome to the team,” Dustin says awkwardly. “I’m Dustin.”

Kas’s smile is wry, pained. “It’s good to see you,” he whispers. Not meet. Mike begins to wonder if he knew Kas even better than he’d thought.

Dustin’s radio crackles. Steve, letting them know that dinner is ready.

“Come on,” Mike says, standing and offering his hand. “Let’s get some food in you.”

They stand as the others trail out the front door, Mike waiting for Kas to make the first move.

“I don’t think I can do this,” he says, voice shaking. When Mike turns back to him, his eyes are full of tears. He blinks, and they stream down his face. “Jonathan, he—”

“I know,” Mike says. In lieu of anything better to do, he pulls him into a hug. “I’m sorry. I know it must be hard. I’m here.”

“But you’re not,” Kas chokes out. “You don’t remember.”

It’s the first time he’s confirmed aloud that Mike has lost memories of him. Mike is sick.

“But I’m here anyway,” Mike says. “I don’t need to remember you to know that you’re important to me. I’m not going anywhere, okay? As long as you need me, I’m here.”

Kas nods, wiping away his tears with the sleeves of Mike’s sweater. “Okay. Just… my mom. I don’t think I can—”

“I’ll keep her away,” Mike assures him. He doesn’t need to ask who his mom is.

Mike grabs his hand, and they walk next door together.

After an awkward dinner is over, they all meet back in the Wheeler house, circled around the kitchen table with Hopper’s maps and plans folded away. Usually, he breaks them out for these meetings, but he just has to look at Kas once for Mike to know that’s not happening tonight.

“We have a new team member,” Hopper says dryly. Seated beside him, Mike watches as Kas clenches his hands into fists under the table. “Kas, any information we can use?”

Kas swallows, going tense as all the attention lands on him. Across the table, Joyce nods in reassurance and Kas straightens, clearing his throat.

“I know where he’s hiding. It’s a little house on the south end of town. In the Upside Down. I can take you there to kill him.”

“Won’t he move?” Steve asks. “Since, uh, you’ve clearly been… compromised.”

Kas frowns, shaking his head slowly. “He might. But I don’t think he will. He doesn’t think I’ll talk. Or he’ll think you’ve killed me already.”

Hopper doesn’t look convinced. “Why would he think we’ve killed you?”

“I don’t know, but he’s been telling me that for years. Among other things. He thinks everyone thinks like him. And he would never let a potential threat live.”

Mike reaches over and grabs his hand under the table. Kas breathes in a shaky breath. “We have to save Max before we kill him,” he says, and El and Lucas stiffen. “Her consciousness is trapped in his mind. She’s been causing… quite a bit of trouble for him.”

“I haven’t been able to reach into his mind,” El says. “Or hers.”

“I can get you there,” Kas assures her. “Through the hive. And I can guide you through his memories to where she’s hiding. Once Max is out, we have to kill him fast. Or he’ll come for us all.”

“How soon can we move?” Hopper asks. “Are you feeling better? Good enough to do this tomorrow?”

Kas nods. “I want this over with, trust me.”

“Tomorrow?” Mike scoffs. “You just almost died. Isn’t that a little fast?”

“I’m fine, really,” Kas says. “I can handle it.”

“Where will you go when this is over?” Jonathan asks. “Do you… have anyone?”

Kas presses his lips together. “They don’t remember me anymore. Henry erased me from their memories. I’m… hoping that killing him will bring those memories back. So I can… go home.”

“Well,” Joyce says, leaning forward. “If they don’t, you will always have a place here, okay? We’ll make sure you’re taken care of, sweetheart.”

Kas’s eyes fill with tears, and he nods, as Nancy begins speaking, drawing the attention away from him so he can gather his bearings.

“It’s okay,” Mike murmurs, leaning in close so only he can hear his words. “It’ll be okay. We’ll remember. We will.”

“Okay,” Kas says, barely audible.

“We’ll prepare tomorrow,” Nancy is saying when he pulls back. “Tomorrow night we strike. End this. Once and for all. He’s not walking away this time.”

The people around the table nod, faces grim, and Mike glances at Kas. He’s looking around the room. Mike wonders how many faces are familiar to him. Did he know Steve? Robin? Murray? Was he close enough to Mike to have ever seen Nancy? Is this house as familiar to him as it is to Dustin and Lucas? How well does he know Dustin and Lucas? Mike is itching with curiosity, but he doesn’t dare press. Not with how much Kas is going through already.

“I guess I’ll see you on the other side,” Kas says, smiling at Mike. They’re in the real world, waiting at Kas’s home base. It’s not far from one of the rifts, in case they need to jump through to the Upside Down, and it’s placement in town is close enough to Vecna’s base that they can get there fast enough to help. 

Not that they should need to. The hope is that Kas and El will free Max and injure Vecna enough in his mind that he won’t be able to fight back against Nancy, Joyce, Steve, and Jonathan. Hopper will guard El in the Upside Down, then join the fight with her once she and Kas are done freeing Max.

Mike’s job is to guard Kas with Murray, Robin, and Erica, who is mainly just keeping watch to keep her out of the line of fire. It had been hard enough that she had snuck away from her parents when they fled Hawkins and was stuck with them. The least they could do was keep her away from the majority of the danger.

Dustin and Lucas are on Max duty, driving to the town an hour away where she was being kept. They had left early, and are already in position, from what Mike knows. Their only method of communication with them is El popping in in the void, since phones are down and their radios can’t possibly reach that far, so Mike can only pray that they’re alright and that they stay that way.

“You sure you’ll be okay in there?” Mike asks.

Kas nods. “If I know anything, it’s how his mind works. I can handle this.”

“Okay,” he says. “David.”

Kas smiles. “Nope. Good guess though.”

“Close?”

“Not at all.”

Robin and Murray are kindly pretending not to watch, while Erica uses her binoculars to look out the window as she loudly chews gum.

“Be careful, Kas,” Mike says, squeezing his hand.

“You too, Mike.”

Kas sits on the floor, cross-legged in front of the fire, and Mike hands him a blindfold. He exhales, then wraps it around his head, and the waiting begins.

Twice, the lights flicker like crazy. The first time, Kas chokes, grimacing, and Mike thinks for a second that they’ve lost, when he straightens and the lights steady, calm once more. The second time, a bulb burst and Kas startles like he’s been shot, frantically pulling his blindfold off.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Mike tells him, grabbing his shoulders gently as he heaves.

“She’s okay,” Kas says. “She’s out.” And Mike goes weak with relief.

“She’s okay?”

He nods. “Punched him in the face too. They left his mind. There’s nothing more I can do from here.”

“Do you want to go?” Mike says. They’re prepared, in case of that. They can get there in maybe ten minutes, tops.

Kas shakes his head. “He’s hurt, and angry. He’s already acting stupid. They can take him.”

“Okay,” Mike says, searching for something to do. Is the only thing left to wait? “Is the hive going to be a problem?”

Kas smirks. “Don’t worry. I took care of that.”

Mike raises his eyebrows.

“What does that mean?” Murray asks.

“We have an understanding,” Kas says. “They’re imprisoned just like I was. There’s… ways to fight it, if you try. They like me. I asked them to hold, and I trust that they will. Long enough for them to kill him and get out.”

“What do we do about the Mind Flayer?” Mike asks. “I mean, that’s what controls the whole thing, right? Even with Vecna gone, it’ll still be an issue, right?”

“I’ve thought about that,” Kas says. “I have a few ideas, but we can’t try them until Henry is dead. Once this is over, we can look into it, we can—”

He jerks, writhing over in pain, and Mike thinks someone screams. He thinks it may have been him.

His head jerks up and he chokes, blood spilling from his eyes, ears and nose. “You can’t escape me, boy,” he says, his voice deep and throaty. Vecna.

“Let him go,” Mike says, shaking. “Let him go!”

Vecna laughs through Kas’s throat. “You and I are tied together now. They will kill me, and you will die by my side, as you were always meant to.”

Mike looks around, to where Erica is staring from the window, binoculars abandoned in her hands, to where Robin and Murray are standing in shock. No one is doing anything. He looks at the fire, and the poker sticking out. He likes it cold.

“Get out of him,” he cries, grabbing the poker and biting his lip as he jabs it into Kas’s side. Vecna screams, and the lights explode as one, as Mike rips the poker away and Kas collapses against the carpet.

“Kas?” he says, desperate, cupping his neck. What if he hurt him too much? What if it didn’t work? What if they killed Vecna and now Kas is gone with him? “Are you okay?”

Kas coughs, the sound small, but there, and Mike nearly collapses on top of him in his relief, sobbing quietly. “Ow,” he says.

“Sorry,” Mike says. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says. “You saved my life. I didn’t even think that he could try to get me back.”

Get me back. It got me. The roll, it was a seven. The demogorgon, it got me.

Mike’s breathing stops. “Oh,” he says, tears spilling down his face. He has to take a minute because he can’t breathe. His brain is flooding with thoughts and feelings and memories that he hasn’t heard for years. “Listen. I know I already used my guess today but, uh, can I have another?”

“Another?” he says, face twisted in pain he tries to hide. “I suppose.”

Mike smiles through his tears, laughing as he sobs. “Will.”

Will’s face crumples, his own cheeks wet. “Mike,” he says.

Mike leans over him, hugging him tightly, careful to avoid his side where there’s a hot poker wound. Will’s hands clutch against his back, the same way he always hugged when they were kids. Mike’s best friend in the entire world.

“No wonder I couldn’t keep away from you,” Mike says. “You were always my favorite person.”

Will’s laugh echoes throughout the house. His grandparents’ house. Jesus. Of course.

“Sorry, do you two know each other?” Murray asks. “Why are we cuddling?”

“He’s Will,” Mike says. “Will Byers.”

“Like—Jonathan Byers Will Byers?” Robin says, eyes wide. “Joyce’s son?”

“She asked me if I wanted to live with her this morning,” Will says, almost amused.

Mike snorts. “What did you say?”

“I told her I’d think about it.”

“Holy shit,” Erica says. “I remember you!”

“Hi Erica,” Will smiles, grabbing Mike’s shoulders so he can help him sit upright. He grimaces, clutching his side.  “Long time no see.”

“You’re telling me,” she says.

“I don’t understand how we all brushed it off,” Mike says, shaking his head. “I mean, we only met El because we were out in the woods looking for you. All this time… I knew something was off.”

“I missed you,” Will says, as Mike helps him hobble onto the couch and away from the fire. “All of you.”

“We missed you too,” Mike says firmly. “Even if we didn’t remember.”

There’s a loud slam as hands bang on the locked door, and Robin runs over, peeking through the window before opening it. Jonathan, standing in the doorway, sobs at the sight of his brother and runs over, collapsing on top of him in a hug.

“Ow, ow, watch my side,” Will hisses, even as he hugs him back.

“Will,” Jonathan sobs, broken. He looks utterly devasted. Mike can’t blame him. “Oh god.”

Joyce comes barrelling through the door seconds later, joining her sons, with a “Oh baby,” and wrapping them up.

“Mom,” Will sobs, heavy and broken. But he’s not broken. Not anymore. He’s putting all the pieces back together. “Jonathan.”

“I’ve got you,” Joyce says. “I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.”

Will sniffles, pulling back, and Nancy waves. “Hi,” he laughs, waving back.

Mike gives him a fond smile.

“Oh,” Will says, blinking. “Dustin and Lucas are probably freaking out.”

El giggles, smiling beside Hopper. Mike catches her eye and she gives him a knowing look, to which he makes a face. He and El have had this conversation in the time since they broke up, and when he confessed that he liked boys more than he liked girls, she told him she was pretty sure she felt the opposite. And she had no concept of homophobia, so it wasn’t as scary as telling, say, Nancy. 

Just because she’s not wrong doesn’t mean she needs to rub it in his face.

“Are there any medical supplies here?” Jonathan asks, gently looking over Will’s side. Guilt thrums in Mike’s chest, but Will shoots him a look that clearly says Don’t you dare blame yourself, so he tries to push it aside.

“Yeah,” Will says. “I stockpile them in the bathroom.”

“Robin,” Joyce says. “Can you grab them?”

“Abso-posi-lutely,” she says with a thumbs up. 

Will sighs, slumping against Mike’s side, and Mike runs his fingers through his hair. It still needs a cut. He’s injured. They’re exhausted. But Max is safe, and alive. Vecna is dead. Will is here. 

Mike wants to worry about everything coming next. They still have to deal with the Mind Flayer. They still have to close the gates. Hawkins is still a hellscape. Things will probably never go back to the way they were before.

While everyone is distracted, Mike leans over and presses a kiss to the top of Will’s head. In return, Will twists their fingers together tightly.