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Will Byers moves his pencil absentmindedly back and forth, adding a new layer of graphite to the top corner of his page. It's shiny and beginning to curve upwards by now from how many times he's gone over it, but he can't think of anything else to draw. Thoughts are slippery and his brain can't quite grab hold of any right now.
He glances over at Mike, who has his knees tucked up to his chest and is watching Luke Skywalker's face with a look of great interest. Right. The movie. Will doesn't know why he isn't watching it, not really. He'd been so excited all week for it, ever since Mike said he'd rented out all three Star Wars movies just for the two of them to watch together. Which is especially special because Mike has been spending a lot of time with Eleven lately. Will knows that she's his girlfriend and all, but it still makes him feel a little empty inside.
It's fine. He goes back to scribbling over the already completely black corner of the page, which is pretty much blank otherwise. There's the semicircle of R2D2's head, but none of his body, and a few lopsided stars. None of them are turning out right, and Will keeps zoning out. He hasn't focused well all day, really. The only thing he can remember from school is wishing that Friday would end sooner, and when Dustin knocked his milk carton onto his lunch tray and had to eat chicken fingers soaked in chocolate milk. Thinking about it is making him a little nauseous.
So are the fast movements of the spaceship on the TV screen. Will closes his eyes and tries to breathe slowly, careful to be quiet too. He really, really doesn't want to ruin the sleepover. Mike worries about him less than Mom and Jonathan do, but if he thinks that Will isn't having a good time he'll get that concerned look and probably offer to turn off the movie and just listen to music, or make hot chocolate, or go to sleep. That's all nice of him, obviously, but it would make Will feel like he's stopping Mike from watching the movie like he wants.
It's fine. Will can watch all three Star Wars movies, and talk about DnD ideas with Mike because they haven't done a campaign in months, and the sleepover is going to stay just as fun and perfect as they planned. He's not going to screw things up again.
When Mike glances over, Will sends him a small smile that hopefully expresses 'I am having a great time watching this movie with you' and then stares forwards at the screen and focuses on watching the movie. When that fails, he focuses on looking like he's watching the movie. …His head hurts.
It's the scene with the giant space trash compactor when nausea suddenly swells hot in Will's throat. His mouth pools with saliva—he swallows hard, automatically leaning forwards a bit and squeezing his eyes shut. Don't throw up, he tells himself strictly.
But—Something's wrong. His heart is pounding, terror welling up alongside nausea and something's wrong, something's wrong, something—
"Something's wrong," he manages to choke out. And then there's nothing at all.
"Will?" Mike's eyes are wide and worried because Will sounded scared, like real scared. "What's wrong?" Will is silent and oddly stiff. Is he having an episode? Mike gets up to stop the tape, and that's when Will begins to shake.
He yelps, "Whoa!" as his best friend jerks violently, once. Then again, and again, and it's just like there in the pumpkin field. But the Mind Flayer is gone, they got it out of him and El closed the gate and—
It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter right now because Will is having a seizure, and what is Mike supposed to do about that? He's there, shaking, looking about to fall off the couch and making these terrible gasping noises. Mike shoves the coffee table away from the couch and grabs the throw pillow by Will's kicking feet and sets it next to the couch where his head would land.
"Mom!" He calls, loud and frantic as he kneels next to Will, trying to squint into his mouth because what if he chokes on his tongue? That's a thing that can happen, he thinks.
Why do these things always happen to Will? The boy who's funny and creative and doesn't deserve all this, hell dimensions and possessions and seizures. The worst part is that there's nothing for him to even do. It's just Will and his body on the basement couch, shaking. What if he dies? Can people die from seizures? Mike doesn't know.
"Mom!" Mike yells, "Nancy!" After a long pause, he even tries "Dad?" which really should show how desperate he's getting here.
Will stops shaking. but he doesn't open his eyes. A sort of terrible cold fear spreads through his body, from his heart outwards. He can't move, can only stare and stare until—he reaches down, hand hovering there for a second before he shakes his friend's shoulder gently.
"Will," he says, "Come on, Will, wake up!" It's dark in here, the only light coming from the still TV screen. Mike drops to his knees, leans close with his ear right over Will's lips. He stays frozen terrified for a long second before—a light warm breath on his skin. Thank God.
He flings his arms around the Will the best that a hug can be when the other member is unconscious and lying flat on a couch. His breathing is slow and shallow but there, alive. He stays there for a long moment before his makeshift pillow/handkerchief stirs.
"M-Mike?" Will manages, sounding tired and small and confused but alive. "What's…" he trails off.
Mike's crying hot tears into Will's chest, soaking through his grey hoodie. It feels like he had been crushed nearly to death into the space trash compactor thing before it had released just enough. Will's breathing gently moves his head up and down.
There are quick steps on the basement stairs, and Mike can't even manage to make himself lift his head when his mom says in this half-frantic voice, "Michael? Will? What's wrong?"
Instead of answering, Mike just presses his teary-snotty face harder into Will's heartbeat.