Work Text:
“It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!”
“We’re not kids anymore.”
“What did you think, that we were going to sit in my basement and play games the rest of our lives?”
The rain was pouring down in freezing sheets, soaking Will and mingling with the tears running freely down his face. Mike’s words played on repeat in his head as he biked. He was desperate to get away from there, from the argument that had just happened and the claustrophobic feeling that was still lingering from the basement.
How could he have been so stupid?
It was naive, selfish even, to assume that’s what they’d do for the rest of their lives. The world didn’t revolve around him. Of course everyone would move on eventually, he knew that, but at some point he’d clearly made the unconscious decision to ignore that fact. This had to happen someday. Will had hoped that it wouldn’t happen soon, but it had. Maybe it was better that it was sooner rather than later. Either way, it was happening, and he’d have to try to come to terms with it.
He’d also have to come to terms with the fact that the party was slowly but surely falling apart. They were never all together anymore. Mike was always with El, no doubt making out and doing relationship shit. It was the same with Lucas and Max too, though he was pretty sure they actually went on dates. They’d abandoned Dustin after he’d been at camp for a month, and now no one knew where he was. Meanwhile Will was on his own most of the time. Like now. The rain was only getting heavier, weighing down his clothes the farther he got, and the icy air whipped past his face. It made him shiver harder, but he didn’t care. The cold was welcome, somewhat muting the overwhelming amount of emotions threatening to crush him.
Despite their fight, Will wished Mike was here. Even if he didn’t know it, Mike’s presence never failed to provide a sense of comfort. One that nothing else was able to bring. Deep down, Will knew the reason for that, and he hated it. He knew that it was unnatural, how he felt about Mike. That if he were normal, being around Mike wouldn’t cause his heart to speed up and his thoughts to muddle. He’d tried to ignore it, he really had. But he couldn’t, and sometimes it caused him to silently cry into his pillow at night, every time he realised that he could never have Mike.
That’s another thing that was unnatural about him. Boys aren’t supposed to cry, to be weak. He’d been told that plenty of times as a child. Every time he’d trip and fall, Lonnie would yell at him to shut up, that he wasn’t good enough. He needed to try harder. The thought made him feel even worse.
He remembered this awful feeling, like he was all alone in the world. The last time he’d felt it was that night he’d been taken. November 6th, 1983. That was also the last night he’d truly felt happy and at peace, back when the party was just him, Mike, Lucas and Dustin. When they could play DnD for ten hours and no one cared. When all they needed was each other. He would do anything to go back to that carefree, innocent version of himself, the one that vanished the second he heard the Demogorgon’s guttural growl. The one he would never, ever get back.
Since then, he’d managed to build up another version of himself. Similar to the original, but the new version buried his trauma away deep down and pretended he was okay after everything that had happened. It protected him from concerned looks and questions about his well being, kept up the facade of a normal teenage boy. But now, that version was gone as well.
Today was the day his childish delusions ended.
A choked sob escaped him at the thought.
He really, really didn’t want to deal with this.
Turns out being a teenager fucking sucked.
His bike slid across wet leaves as he turned into the forest, heading towards where he knew Castle Byers was. An ache filled his chest at the thought of the times that he and Mike had spent hours there, playing together. They’d ignore the world for a while and just be children. He wished they could do that again.
Stupid.
Stupid.
Stupid.
The small, worn hut finally came into view and he half climbed, half fell off his bike, dropping it on the ground with a thud. Maybe the rain would be able to clean off the dirt that covered it as a result of the muddy ground. Another shaky sob left him as he saw that the inside of the hut was wet as well. Some of his old pictures lay on the floor, the ink running. The rest of the hut looked the same as always, and as Will sat down heavily, the sound of the raindrops pounding on the roof and the familiar surroundings finally drowned out his thoughts. Giving him a break, if only for a while.
Over on the other side of town, Mike was frantically banging on the Byers door, ready to apologise and try his best to make amends. But the damage had already been done.
All good things must come to an end.