Chapter Text
This chapter will recount Will’s sexual trauma. Viewer discretion is advised.
”Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.”
- Robert Frost
Whisking past cedar trees and snapping twigs under his bike tires, Mike peddled fiercely through the woods down the path that led to Hopper’s cabin. It was an imaginary path, but it’s one that Mike has memorized and imprinted into the curves and grooves of his brain since he was thirteen years old. The sun peeked through the tall intertwining overlay of branches, dotting the dirt ground like small yellow stars in Mike’s way. The trees whipped past as he peddled faster, dodging squirrels and raccoons whenever they’d cross his path. A bunny was hopping along, nose twitching in the late afternoon wind before it was spooked off by Mike’s speeding, scurrying off where he could never find it.
Mike’s dark curls twisted and furled in the wind. They tickled the tips of his ears and swirled up and away from his forehead, mimicking the slope of a high tide ocean wave.
In a little while the sleek wash of the afternoon daylight would radiate down into a sunset overcast of purples and reds, but the warmth from the summer would remain at an all-time excruciating high. It was a hot summer day in late July, the type where riding your bike felt like you were pushing all of your body weight through a boiling, radiating swamp. Mike panted and swiped the sweat from his forehead in one swift motion before finally reaching the small wooden hideaway. The cabin had turned into a sanctuary over the last five years. What once was an old, worn-out pile of structured wood now housed some of the people Mike cared most about in this whole world.
Mike thought about El and all of her whimsical wonder, not just her powers but her sense of self - the self she has remarkably curated after all the men who had tried their best to shrink down and tame. El could never be tamed, for there was nothing to tame. She was just a girl. Then there was Will. Will Byers. All paint-stained hands and green eyes with a heart that was too pure for this world, too pure for Mike. Even though Mike was heading to Hopper’s cabin right now, he couldn’t help but envision Will riding alongside him, or perhaps straddling behind him with his hands on Mike’s shoulders. Somewhere close where he would always be in Mike’s peripheral. His heart sank at the lack of Will there’d been - he hadn’t heard his laugh in weeks, maybe not even since their last DND campaign.
Mike hadn’t seen much of Will lately. Would he even be at the cabin once Mike arrived? Whenever Will was nowhere to be found it was because he was either at The Squawk and bumping out tunes with Robin, or at the local-owned art studio downtown. At least, that’s what Mike could gather from Joyce or El. It was such a toss-up now, and the uncertainty pinched at his side. He swatted the feelings away as if they were a small, pesky fly. Will’s allowed to be in places you’re not, Mike reminded himself.
The cabin started coming into view through the thickly scattered family of trees as the home grew bigger the closer Mike peddled. There was that familiar clearing where the number of trees thinned out, acting as a portal from the woodland to the open smokey area the cabin inhabited. Sunlight poured in from the clearing, finding Mike’s sweat-soaked skin and bathed him in a hue of gold. His peddling started winding down as the breeze stilled the slower he biked. He could hear the buzzing of bees and dragonflies that swarmed the clearing, making sure he was careful enough not to piss any of them off and sting or bite him.
As his bike ride was descending, Mike lightly brushed past dandelions and tall blades of grass that grazed his feet as he peddled. He entered the threshold of the cabin that sat guarded by a handful of tall pine and cedar trees. In the summer, the leaves and pine resorted to their typical moss and sage colors that were so vibrant they were almost as blinding as the sun itself.
The sunlight beat down on the old splintery slates of the rooftop. A mourning dove cooed somewhere from beyond. He clumsily braked his bike, stumbling off of it in a hurry to get to the door. Before he could even knock, El flung the door open. The creaking sound made a nearby fox scurry off to God knows where. El was wearing a floral-printed skirt that stopped in the middle of her calves, a plain faded white tee, a dangly pair of butterfly earrings he’s seen her wear a dozen times, and her hair was loosely braided down her back. She looked pretty and cozy. She looked like El.
“Mike!” she exclaimed as she threw her arms around him. Mike held her close, bringing his chin to her shoulder. El called not even ten minutes ago to announce to Mike that she just got accepted into her fashion design program where she would be studying abroad in Paris - a dream come true - she had called it.
After the mess that Vecna had caused had been cleaned up and ceased, El finally had time to figure out who she was. She swapped out her superhero bodysuits and hair buns for lace ankle-skirts and cardigans with flower and deer knitted patterns. Tears became glittery eyeshadow, and her training sweats into flowy summer dresses and unique jewelry she made herself.
Mike took note of the use of color in her wardrobe, even her flannels in their various shades of brown or red had an unusual hue to them. El always loved color, and when she was fourteen she finally stepped into her own world of sense of style and identity with the help of Max. Mike hated to admit it, but he was always grateful to Max for those days when he couldn’t be what El needed out of him.
El had this way of reclaiming things that were stolen from her, and when she had them in the palms of her hands again…she glowed. From the colors and patterns on her clothes, to the sparkling eyeshadow that illuminated her honey brown eyes, or even to the dirt on her worn-in white converse, El found ties from her number to her name.
“It’s all me,” she had said months ago to the party when she was showing off her collection of clothing fabrics. “I’ve been poked and prodded my whole life - I can’t change that - I can’t rewrite it. It’s my life, but so is this. So are all of you, and Hopper and Joyce and Jonathan and Nancy and Steve and Robin. You’ve all held my hand while I tried finding myself, and I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have a family as safe and warm as you.” Her voice cracked, tears welling.
Mike didn’t reach out to touch her, but Will had. “I never thought I’d ever feel connected to that small child in me, the one who lost years on colors and pretty nail polish and daisies in my hair, but I finally feel that connection, like I can just reach out and grab her hand and tell her it’s going to be okay.” Will wiped the tears from his twin’s eyes. She gave a sweet, small smile to him. Max sat on the other side of El on her bed, swallowing El up in her arms. Will slung his arm around El, and now she was completely safe and secured. Will sighed as his lips twitched up in a smile and tears began to slide down his cheeks. Mike’s heart flipped at the pretty sight of Will’s face. With shame, he pushed it down.
“I could tell that little girl one day she might be leaving this country behind to make the world beautiful and full of sparkles or itty-bitty polka dots or sequins, and that her little hands will be designing her own wardrobe instead of fighting off monsters or men who want to control her.” A hopeful smile spread across her face, and Mike was beyond proud of her and everything she conquered, and although she would be on the other side of the world and away from Mike, he would be content with it if it meant that smile remained on her face for all eternity.
“I couldn’t wait another second, I had to see you!” Mike panted as he slightly let go of El so he could look her in the eye. “God, El, I’m so happy for you!” Mike could pick her up and spin her, but he decided to follow her back into Hopper’s cabin where Will, Joyce, and Jonathan had moved into a few months after the Upside Down had been destroyed. The inside smelled of fresh daisies, linen, and old wood. It was something nostalgic and familiar, it was all the traces from the summer of ‘85. Sunlight impaled through the blinds and casted stripes on the wooden floors and Hopper’s ancient sofa. Will was sitting on it, resting his sketchbook on his knees as he drew something Mike couldn’t quite make out. His pink tongue stuck out in concentration, and Mike tried to bury all of the desiring thoughts he had bubbling in his head and…other parts.
“Hey Will,” Mike’s voice cracked. Will jumped in surprise, almost shocked that Mike had said hello to him, and gazed up at Mike. The strained disconnect between him and Will was killing Mike. There wasn’t any big argument or disagreement, but Will had been slowly fading from Mike’s orbit for a while now. Even before the move to Hop’s, Will would stay curled up in the basement at the house or take off on his bike earlier for school without waiting for Mike. He would try to talk to Will about it, but Will kept reassuring that everything was fine.
Still, Mike noticed how Will would sit furthest from Mike at the kitchen table and at lunch. Mike also took note of the way he would always plan to hang out with Robin and Jonathan but never had time for Mike anymore. It was just with Mike, too.
The rest of the party got a full range of Will. What would break Mike the most was how Will wouldn’t make direct eye contact with him anymore. If they ran into each other, Will would cast his eyes to the ground and say he forgot something and hurry back down to the basement, or simply turn his face to the wall. Mike didn’t understand where the awkwardness was coming from; he thought that they agreed to still be friends – best friends.
Shouldn’t that have been enough?
Friends, best friends. That’s how it was meant to be, right? No matter how many times Will’s morning voice made Mike’s heart flutter, no matter the amount of times Mike has laid awake at night with Will’s face on his ceiling. He knew it should’ve been El’s, but it never was. Mike tried to envision a life with her, he really did. No wait, sorry, he would try to envision a life with her where he was happy. It didn’t truly exist, not really.
None of it was El’s fault either. Mike liked things about her, like how she sometimes uses two hands for her powers instead of one, or how she dots her i’s with hearts or stars (depending on the day, in her words) or how she wears Will’s old flannels that almost fit her perfectly. Almost, not quite.
El protected him in ways she was completely and entirely unaware of. Mike was expected to marry someone - a girl - have kids, a stable career, and have a house behind a white picket fence. Guilt and shame brewed whenever Will stepped into frame, with his big green eyes and sweet laugh that drove Mike absolutely insane. He had to always push it down, reimagine the sight as El, who he was supposed to be in love with. Then that guilt and shame Mike carried around poked at him like a cherry ember from a cigarette on his skin whenever El stepped by his side and held his hand.
The only way out of the agonizing vortex of his mind was to appreciate the Will-ness in El. As long as her bangs hung uneven and full above her big doe eyes, as long as her flannel was on and she kept being Will’s real life honest-to-God twin, he could pretend he was in love with her.
Mike knew El deserved more than this, deserved a life where the person she was with was truly and blindingly in love with her. Don’t get it twisted, Mike cared for her.
Cared.
“Oh, hey,” was all that Will could say, apparently, as he quickly closed his sketchbook. It’s fine, Mike’s fine. The world isn’t ending, at least Will was able to make quick eye contact with Mike. That flash of deep green would always be the quickest dose of serotonin Mike kept in his back pocket for whenever longing decides to tie itself too tightly around his heart.
In an attempt to escape the guilt that was pinned in Mike’s chest, he looked around the cabin. In a cramped space like this, there wasn’t really anywhere for Will to storm off to. No spare bedroom, no basement, hell, not even an attic. Just a mattress that laid haphazardly in the middle of El’s bedroom.
El interlocked her fingers with Mike’s as she whisked him away into her bedroom, but not before she gave Will a soft, hopeful smile. His eyes were filled with worry as he gave a quick nod in return.
El closed the door behind Mike. Since Hopper and Joyce were moving to Montauk along with El and Will, most of her bedroom was boxed away, waiting to be opened again most likely whenever she visits from Paris. Her bedroom now contained her bed, a lamp that sat on one of her boxes as a makeshift nightstand and some clothes folded neatly in the wicker basket that used to hold all of her fabrics. Mike assumed those were all packed away now, too.
There were no photos of them hung up anymore, not even one on her box-stand. Over the last couple of years El hadn’t really kept their photos up all over like she used to, but there used to be one that she kept beside her every night.
“I’m taking you boxed up that photo of us to bring to Paris with you?” Mike asked as they both sat down on her bed. It squeaked lightly under them.
“Mike, I-“ she cut herself off. She grabbed ahold of Mike’s hands in hers as she peered down at them, almost dissociating at the sight of his hand over hers. El is still not able to meet his eyes. Mike tried bringing his head down, an attempt to catch her gaze.
Mike saw it then. Red-rimmed doe eyes, long soaked eyelashes, and a trembling bottom lip.
“What’s going on? Are you alright?” Mike asked, tilting her chin up with his fingers.
El closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and said gently,
“We can't be together, Mike.”
The world broke apart under him.
“What?” he asked, choking out the word as it came out. El’s bottom lip began to quiver then she sternly met his watery gaze. Mike let go of her hands as a whimper escaped her lips.
“Mike, please just…don’t say anything yet. Let me talk.” She begged. Mike put his head in his hands and felt his dark curls come down from around his head and shielded his face even more. Tears were beginning to travel down his face.
“I’ve just been thinking a lot about my future and our relationship, and well…” El takes one more sigh.
“So this is coming from you and not from Hopper?” Mike interrupted. Quite rudely, he’d admit. He uncovered his face and looked up at El as she rolled her eyes and put her face in her own hands.
“Mike,” she grumbled. He quickly sealed his lips and waited for her to continue, feeling defeated. His voice turned to stone in his throat as he tried not to choke on the words he may regret saying. When the silence lingered, El spoke once more.
“No, Hopper isn’t making me say or do anything, Mike. These are my words because I am my own person. Don’t you get that? I-“ she halted her words, knitted her eyebrows together like she was trying to compartmentalize her brain, the words that weren’t sharp enough to slit Mike’s throat clean open. It was already too late for that, and Mike knew she had barely gotten a word out yet.
“We aren’t right for each other, Mike. I love you so much, and you were there for me when I needed somewhere to hide from Bren- him- but even back then, Mike…” she trailed off as she softly shook her head, her butterfly earrings swaying from her head. Mike absentmindedly took one of the butterflies between his thumb and pointer finger and started stroking the pink and purple wings. It was for a distraction, really, anything to pull him out of the conversation he was in. Anything to keep him from watching his safety net give out from underneath him.
El’s butterfly earring, his safety net, his lies. All props to drown out the green eyes and sunshine-laugh that haunted Mike’s life.
“What do you mean we aren’t right for each other? If you love me, how could you leave me like this?” Mike asked dully. El removed his fingers from her earring. Instead of completely letting go of his hand, she held it tightly in hers. Her nails were painted lilac.
“Mike, what I’m trying to say is that maybe we never were really in love with one another. We were both two traumatized kids, we leaned on each other, sure, but…Mike, I can never read your mind no matter how much I tried,” Mike scoffed at that. She could never read his mind? That’s her whole super-power, was it not? Of course, El was respectful with it. Even on their worst nights she never once stepped inside his head, never crossed that boundary or attempted to skim through his hidden thoughts like a catalog and searched for answers she would never understand.
El was patient, gentle. She knew it was physically painful to rummage through someone else’s memories, and in turn sacrificed her own emotional wellbeing in the hopes Mike would come around, be open. He pretended to be.
He wasn’t.
She figured him out.
Mike never realized how long his tears had been streaming from his eyes, he just felt El’s thumb brush them away.
“Mike, you will always be someone who is so dear to my heart. You know that, right?” Mike’s mouth trembled, he squeezed his eyes shut as he slightly shook his head.
El, with all the tenderness she could prosper, pulled Mike into her arms and rested her chin on his shoulder. Mike laid idly in her arms, his arms slacking around her waist and hardly hugging her back. “It’s okay if you were never in love with me, Mike.”
“But I was in lo- well I mean I do lo-,” Mike choked out, the words disappearing before they could even reach his tongue. He pulled away from El, the image of her blurring through his soaked eyes.
“You still can’t say it, Mike. You only could when my eyes were shut - when Max and I were on the brink of death.” El was crying now, tears flooded to her waterline like the sea meeting the shore.
She was right, and Mike didn’t have a response to it.
“I thought maybe you’d be able to say it through your actions, at least I’d have that, right? But Mike,” she continued. “I had to beg love from you, my boyfriend. I begged like a dog. All I’ve ever wanted was to be wanted - to be loved - my whole life. I now have love in so many forms, yes, but your hesitation in loving me in the way you promised has done nothing besides make me question my own worth. I am done questioning. I can’t keep wondering when I’ll ever be enough for you.” El took a deep sigh, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
That same weight was implanted onto Mike’s. He knew there was hesitation on his side, he knew to try and love anyone other than Will would be evasive. Mike was foolish for believing that putting half his heart in a relationship would keep it alive forever.
Still, Mike persisted.
“I do have those feelings for you, El. I always have, you should know this by now. What more do you want from me?” His voice cracked. Pathetic.
“If you’re in love with me, then how come you always have to question what I want?” The question was an attempt to deflate Mike’s defensiveness. Mike knitted his eyebrows together.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you and I are never on the same page. You’d take me out on movie dates, but you should know how overwhelmed I get in crowded spaces and loud noises, I have to cover my ears because it hurts so bad.”
“What-“
“You know how much I hate peanut butter, but every time you run to the store you always bring back Reese’s. I’m not trying to sound ungrateful, but Mike, nothing about me sticks inside your brain!”
“Well, I-“
“And when you bring me flowers, they’re always so lovely and I never care what color they are, but you always try to reinforce this idea that yellow is my favorite color.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No, it’s Will’s.”
Will’s. He knew that. Warmth bloomed in his chest, and Mike wanted nothing more than to dunk himself into a pool of ice.
“What’s yours?”
El, with a poker face, flicked Mike’s forehead. He let out a small ‘ow’ and rubbed the spot she inflicted unwarranted pain onto him.
“Mike, at this point you don’t even deserve to know.” El said sternly. This was probably one of the most embarrassing moments of Mike’s entire life. Did he really not know El’s favorite color this whole time?
“Mike, we can’t read each other’s minds. Not in the way Lucas and Max do, or how Dustin and I do, or how Jonathan and Nancy do, or how you and Will-“
“What about me and Will?” Mike’s heart began to beat against his chest like hail on glass.
“I don’t know, you two always find each other in a crowded room, or when something happens or when someone says something weird or dumb you two do this thing that Max calls a shared look.” El explained, her eyebrows knitted. Mike rolled his eyes at the mention of Max’s name.
“Don’t do that, Mike, you know it’s true. It’s like you guys are having a private conversation only the two of you can hear. I always tried to catch your eye, I’ve always tried to wedge myself inside your head, but wherever Will is there you are. I get he’s your bes-“
“Look, I don’t know why you’re bringing Will into all of this, but that’s not fair, okay? You don’t have to wedge yourself inside my head because you’re always there! Don’t you see that, El? I-“ Mike cut himself off, stammering and useless against his own words that seem to lead to nowhere but dead ends. This couldn’t be the end for him and El, not after he made her one of the pillars of his life.
A pillar, a safety net, a consolation prize for Mike for being the good boy he’s supposed to be. I’ve been playing pretend my whole life, I’ve gotten good at being something I’m not. Let me have this, El. Please don’t leave me to clean up the mess in my own brain. It’s nothing but crumbled up, never-sent letters to Will, stories about him, desires that I’ve stored in the cellar of my heart. I can never face them in this world, in this lifetime.
Please don’t leave me, El.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, El - Jane - I never would’ve become the person I am if it weren’t for you.” His words came out water-logged, sloppy and pathetic. El’s image blurred from the tears welling up in his eyes. El shut hers, tears silently falling as she looked down solemnly in her lap.
“We only met because sweet Will was taken, Mike. We met by accident. It was ser-en-dip-i-tous.” El still had trouble with pronouncing some words, but she had come so far in her vocabulary. It was another way she had gained power over herself.
“That means a happy accident,” she smiled.
“I know what serendipitous means, El. The point is that meeting you was my serendipity, and losing you was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. No one else compares, El, no one.” Mike put his palm over El’s cheek, who quickly moved her head to keep herself from his grasp, his touch. The removal felt like a funeral. Could she feel the burn of his lie on the base of his palm?
“How dare you, Mike? Not even losing Will meant as much to you? That’s crazy! He was trapped all alone for a week, frightened and needing someone! Needing you-“
“But don’t you see the silver lining, El? If Will hadn’t gotten taken, you and I never would’ve met. Sure, it must’ve been awful for him, but he was found. He was saved. He hadn’t disappeared for a year like you had, he hadn’t haunted my life the way you did. Will was fine, you were gone. You were gone, El-“
“Mike, stop!” El cried. Her tone halted his voice, burning it until it was nothing but ash. She covered her ears as if his words were nails on a chalkboard. He wanted to drown himself out too. Mike knew he didn’t mean those things about Will, of course not. It tore Mike apart to dismantle Will’s trauma like this, turning a mountain into a mole-hill. He didn’t know everything that happened to him in the Upside Down, but in all fairness… Will had hid pretty well for almost a week, coming back unscathed.
El was slingshot into another dimension with a screeching, dying Demogorgon that had nothing but intentions to slaughter them all.
But who was Mike kidding, really?
When El disappeared, it was guilt that he lived and she hadn’t.
When Will disappeared, it was guilt from not being able to protect him. It was guilt that they weren’t going to die together, hand in hand.
It was Will’s body in the lake, it was Will’s breathing over the walkie talkie. His empty desk, his cry for help.
Now Mike was crying for help to El and what he desperately needed her to be for him.
What she couldn’t be anymore. What she didn’t want to be, what she never really was.
She uncovered her ears.
Suddenly, Mike and El both jumped at the sound of a door slamming shut. They took one last glance at each other before leaping from the bed and hurrying into the living room.
The couch that Will had sat on previously was sitting vacant, his sketchbook clearly tossed haphazardly to the side with his pencil laying on the floor.
“Oh no,” El muttered under her breath. Mike rushed over to the window and peered through the blinds. Will was biking off to God knows where, the bike beneath him wobbled as his speed quickened. Mike burst the front door open, screaming his name.
“Will! Will, please!” Mike wasn’t entirely sure if Will had heard anything at all from El’s bedroom, but the look on El’s face answered that for him. Of course Will heard. The conversation had gotten passionate, the walls were paper thin. Of course Will heard every word, every lie Mike threw at El to see what would stick.
Mike watched as Will’s yellow and white striped t-shirt almost completely vanished from his view.
“Will, please! Come back!” Mike ran off the porch towards the woods that had swallowed Will whole.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it! Please, Will!” Mike hollered, his throat scratchy and hoarse as his knees buckled and dropped to the ground. He heaved loud sobs that shook throughout his body. He buried his face in his hands as they brushed the dirt underneath him. El came up from behind him, knelt down and said softly,
“Don't follow him. Give him his space.”
✮⋆˙˚☽˚｡⋆✮⋆
If Will had never gotten taken, you and I never would’ve met.
Will wiped his tears on the back of his hand, dipping down deep into the woods on his old rickety bike.
He hadn’t haunted my life the way you did.
Will peddled faster than he knew possible; maybe if he kept up with the speed he would fling off his bike and crash into a tree. He would forget about the words Mike spewed through the thin walls of the wooden cabin. He would hopefully forget about Mike Wheeler altogether, and the memories they shared that made him fall hopelessly in love with him too.
Will was fine, you were gone.
Will was fine.
Flashes of the distorted library flickered inside Will’s mind. Vines etched in every crevice while spider-like webbing draped like old, smelly curtains in every corner. The sound of footsteps that kept creeping closer, footsteps that echoed and ricocheted inside the library like a death march.
That dark, wrecked voice.
We can begin.
Will shook the painful memory away, but couldn’t hide from the grueling, slimy sensation that filled the back of his throat.
Will was fine.
He heaved out sobs burrowed deep inside his lungs, his stomach, his bones. They had been sitting dormant for years now, waiting to finally be released and taken care of by the strong protective arms of the person he loved most.
Those arms were never waiting for Will, and if anything, they only pushed him away.
Losing you was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. No one else compares, El, no one.
“Stupid.” Will muttered under his breath as his tears blew in the wind. “I’m so fucking stupid.”
Mike could find a silver lining in Will’s disappearance - he could make out shapes and colors in the vast void that whisked Will away and cloaked him from the real world. Mike found beauty in Will’s ceased heartbeat. A heartbeat he had given to Mike when they were five, a heartbeat that had always been useless to Mike.
Useless turned into a sinking feeling of worthlessness, and that worthlessness morphed into muffled cries and pleas that went unanswered in that dingy library.
Will continued to zoom past the trees inside the woods that always seemed to go on forever. As he rode on, the tears flew past the corners of his eyes and off his face from the breeze that whipped around him.
Maybe they’d water the dried-up flowers in the grass and give his sorrow some use.
Will Byers never believed he had a chance with Mike Wheeler. Even if there was, for just a moment, a slight glimmer of hope that peeped through the clouds like a rainbow after rain…it didn’t last very long. It never did.
Will saw what he wanted to see. A glimpse of his lips that lasted for a beat too long, a hand on the shoulder, a hand over his. A promise that carried no weight in the passing moment it was made.
Well, if we’re both going crazy then we’ll go crazy together, right?
Yeah, crazy together.
Mike had been Will’s safe haven ever since they were little. Will recalled the brute force of his father’s hand, the slurs spat at him before he was even as tall as the edge of the kitchen table, but Mike was always there. Across town, sure, but present and lively and welcoming.
Mike would build him a fort in his basement whenever Will couldn’t stop crying and the wounds had just been bandaged. He would pepper the space with the softest blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals, then pull Will in and snuggle him until he stopped shaking.
“I’ll always be right here, Will. He can’t hurt you as long as you’re with me.” Mike kissed the top of his head. Will had sunk down into his chest until he was perfectly tucked in with Mike’s arms nesting around him.
They had fallen asleep like that, huddled lazily like two little lost kittens in their own sacred corner of the world.
Now Will watched as the sun dwindled inch by inch on the horizon clear over the trees. Alone.
Jonathan, he just needed Jonathan.
Sooner or later, The Squawk appeared in view. Above the station, the sun wasn’t completely set just yet, but it was lowered enough where some of the vibrant blue sky from earlier was fading alongside the dimming yellow rays. Will slowed down his pedaling and eventually braked in the dirt path that led to the station’s front porch.
Will was panting now, exhaustion from the bike ride finally submerging after his adrenaline slowed down. He continued to sniffle as he parked his bike haphazardly in the dirt and wiped his eyes again. Will wasn’t even sure if Jonathan would be here at this time, or potentially out somewhere else with Nancy, but he breathed out a sigh of relief the moment he saw his car parked in a crooked fashion on the side of the building.
Will careened down the path, up the steps, and crashed through the front entrance. Inside, the air was cool and orange-lit thanks to the descending sun. Dust particles floated all around and it smelled like old vinyl covers. Will tread down the hallway and around the corner. He just needed the tender warmth of his brother, but with each step he took it felt as if he was pushing through thick mud. The closer he got to the main sitting area, the louder the voices echoed.
“This is the dumbest conversation of all time, you do realize that, right?” Steve asked, defensively.
“You’re saying that croutons are the best part of the salad when objectively they’re just little monstrous bread cubes!” Robin argued.
“‘Monstrous bread cubes’? Do you even hear yourself?”
“I asked you to make sure the order wouldn’t contain any croutons, and you explicitly ignored my request!”
“Yeah, because croutons are fucking delicious, Robin! Christ, just eat around them,” Steve boomed, still chewing.
“I could totally just take each one out and chuck them at your head, but the crumbs linger, Steve! If you like crumbs contaminating your lettuce that’s fine, but do not involve me in such heinous sensory overload!”
“I’ve tried explaining it! You get a perfect crunch from the croutons, and a tangy richness from the dress-“
“Both of you please shut up before I make you two go eat in the bathroom after Jonathan is done using it.” Nancy demanded, her tone tight and stern.
Will stridden into the sitting area, still sniffling and wiping the tears from his eyes.
“Hey, Little Byers!” Robin called out with her infectious full grin.
“Thoughts on croutons?” Steve asked right before Robin threw a crouton at his head.
Will could only stand there, the world tilting on its axis as he floated outside of his body. His voice turned to stone in his throat, and all the words he needed to say weighed inside him. Will could feel his lower lip trembling again. He stabbed the bottoms of his palms against his eyelids and crumbled in front of the three of them.
“Will, what’s going on?” Nancy asked softly, getting up from her seat to step over to him and threw an arm around his back. Will fell into the gentle embrace and lowered himself onto her shoulder.
“It’s alright, come on, sit down,” she cooed. Will let her guide him to the couch where he sat right in between Nancy and Steve with Robin perched on the solo chair and no longer picking through her salad. The three of them had diverted their gazes and concerns towards the weepy eighteen-year-old boy they’ve all loved and protected since he was younger.
Nancy started rubbing Will’s back as Robin leaned closer, setting her plate aside, and propping her elbows on her knees. Steve scooted away to give him more room to breathe but swung one arm over the back of the couch for comfort. The number of eyes on Will flashed him back to over eighteen months ago, to the same room, with some of the same people, and with practically the same reason for his aching heart.
I had this crush on someone, even though I know…I know they’re not like me.
Will, for the life of him, couldn’t speak. He trusted everyone around him, but he just desperately needed Jonathan.
“Will, you know it’s okay if you tell us what’s going on, right?” Nancy said.
Will nodded his head as he wiped the tears dripping down his cheeks and a bit into his mouth, all salty and warm. He thought back to that day, the way dusk rays had found their way into the station and shimmered onto him. The twinkling spotlight, the silence that fell when he came out. No one was angry or damned him to Hell.
Will remembered the softness in Nancy’s smile, Steve’s comforting hand on Robin’s shoulder. Robin with her supportive, tearful grin.
Only Robin and Jonathan knew who Will’s crush was at that time, but it was never really just some old ordinary school-hallway secret admiration.
No, it’s always been more than that. Will knew it, Jonathan knew it.
“Mike.” Was all Will could muster. Deep breaths and heavy sighs filled the dense stillness of the station.
“What’d he do now?” Nancy asked, a hint of annoyance towards her little brother going unfiltered.
With the question, a new lump in Will’s throat started forming, his stomach churning at the words he overheard Mike spout back at the cabin.
Will thought he might get sick.
If Will hadn’t gotten taken, you and I never would’ve met.
My life started that day I found you in the woods.
He started dry heaving, bile traveling up his throat.
“Steve, grab the can! Hurry!” Nancy pointed at a small trash can in the corner of the room. Without a second thought, Steve rushed over, snatched it, and handed it to Will. Steve stayed put, standing still beside the couch.
Will released years of love for Mike Wheeler into the trash can, but he knew he’ll never truly be rid of it. He could vomit all he wanted, he could cry and scream and dissociate all his heart desired, but in the end, Will always lost. Into the trash can, Will poured out some of the butterflies that tickled his belly whenever Mike brushed knees with him, some laughs from when Mike cracked a corny joke, and thousands of mental images of those warm brown eyes.
It was a detox, the culmination of his wrecked heart. For years, Will kept it hidden in the dark, far away from Mike; now it was on display for all to see. Battered and bleeding - no one to kiss it better - to make the pain stop.
It also probably didn’t help his stomach that he had biked five miles at lightning speed without stopping.
Nancy continued to stroke her hand up and down his back as he heaved and expelled anything that was left. The push and force caused the teardrops to escape from his eyes.
“You’re okay, Byers.” Steve whispered. Robin quickly hurried off somewhere else - Will assumed it was because seeing someone sick probably made her sick too. As she was leaving, Jonathan appeared in the living area. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of his little brother, hunched over a trash can with a trail of saliva dripping from his bottom lip.
“Will, Jesus- are you alright?” He stepped over and knelt in front of him, his hand resting over Will’s chin. Will slowly shook his head, water still splashing from his eyes.
“Do you think you got it all out?” Nancy asked, tilting her head to look underneath his eyelashes. Will nodded, and Steve carefully took the can and placed it nearby just in case Will would need it again.
“What’s going on?” Jonathan asked with his voice filled with remorse and worry.
“Mike.” Will, Nancy, and Steve all said in unison.
“Figures.” Jonathan sighed. He looked at Nancy and asked, “Did he say what happened?”
“No,” she sighed.
Will didn’t know what was taking him so long to just say what he heard. Maybe he didn’t want to know what the words felt like in his own mouth. Still, with everyone staring at him like this, he knew he had to talk about it at some point. There was no running from it, and besides, everyone was going to know that El and Mike broke up eventually. On top of everything else, Will just hated that he had to be the one to break the news first.
Will clenched his fingers, unclenched, squeezed his eyes shut then slowly opened them. He sucked in his breath with a deep, heavy rise of his chest and released.
“Mike came over to congratulate El on being accepted into her fashion design program.” Will’s tone remained low as his throat was still recovering from violently puking. “She took him to her bedroom to break up with him, and I kinda already knew she was going to.”
Nancy’s eyebrows jumped, but no one seemed too surprised at their split. If anything, they all saw it coming from a mile away. That didn’t mean that Mike still wasn’t in love with El, but that’s not always enough to keep two people together.
Suddenly, Robin returned with an armful of tea boxes. “Okay, so I did some rummaging,” she began, “and I scavenged all of the tea I could find. You know, what was left over from all those nights we’d spend endlessly trying to come up with ways to save the world and whatnot.” Robin huffed out, clearly out of breath and trying to keep all of the boxes of tea in her grip.
“First up I have chamomile. I know for my anxiety at least chamomile is, like, a Godsend and steadies my heartbeat - however, mint tea is exceptional for curing headaches - which you might have - I don’t know!” She started to firmly set the boxes down after each presentation. “And judging by Mini Wheeler’s role in this vicious gay agony of yours I thought maybe the combination of mint and chamomile could potentially not cure but treat a…broken heart?”
“A broken heart?” Steve asked. Robin gave Will a knowing look, like should I tell him?
“You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to, Will.” Jonathan reassured him. Will shook his head, he was going to say it. He had to; it was time he grieved these feelings out loud.
“Do you guys remember when I said I had a…crush on someone? When I came out?” Will asked, mostly to Nancy and Steve. They both nodded their heads.
“I was talking about Mike, except it was never just a crush. I just watered my feelings down, tried to distance myself from him emotionally. I thought if I’d convinced myself that it was just some puppy crush then maybe I could move on and prove Vecna wrong, the things he said at least.” Will shook his head.
“I was wrong.” Will flicked his gaze to Robin, who was still standing there with a pained expression on her face. “He’s not just my Tammy, he’ll never just be my Tammy. He’s my Mike, but I’ll never have him.”
Steve arched one of his eyebrows, shot a look at Robin, and the look she returned to him made it clear they would have a talk later.
“I’m in love with him, I’m- I’m sorry.” Will’s sobbing swirled out, tears painting his cheeks all over again. Jonathan leaped up from his squatting position, sat right next to his little brother, and held him so tightly he was squishing him.
“Will, you have nothing to apologize for, okay? You can’t help who you fall in love with.” Nancy’s voice was delicate, patient.
Just like her brother’s.
Will was fine.
Will closed his eyes for a moment, took one deep breath, and opened them again.
“There’s more,” Will’s voice shook as his hands sat trembling in his lap. The room fell to a hush while the four of them gawked at Will as they waited for him to continue.
“Mike, he uh…” he trailed off, searching for the right way to rearrange Mike’s words so they’d slide off Will’s tongue without grating it, without slicing his heart open again.
“He said that losing El was the worst thing that’s ever happened to him, and that…” the churning in Will’s stomach returned with a vengeance.
“Me going missing brought them together. That there was some silver lining in my disappearance, and that I was fine when I was found, but El was gone for almost a year and that haunted him.” Will’s voice disintegrated at the last sentence - as if it hurt so bad it was being erased by whoever wrote it to begin with. Will wailed big heavy sobs deep from within his chest, causing his shoulders to shake. Jonathan and Nancy simultaneously threw their arms around him, and Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut as he held his weeping brother, his grip tight and furious.
“I‘ll kill him, I swear to God.” Nancy whispered.
“No, don’t say anything to him, I just-“ Will sniffled. Steve quickly grabbed a box of tissues that sat on a nearby table and handed it to Will. He took a couple and blew his nose then held the tissue between his closed palms.
“It’s alright, Little Byers,” Robin cooed, as she squatted down in front of him. She started petting Will’s leg like he was a stray cat. “No offense Nance, but Mike’s a little-“
“Shit? Yeah, I’m aware.” Nancy interrupted, cold and agitated. The room fell silent again, the clock ticking in the studio filled the bitter turn of the evening. After finally scraping what Mike said off his tongue, Will’s mind finally hushed into a dull nothing. Just an empty, endless static. At least he didn’t throw up again.
The sun’s rays dimmed into a light magenta in the radio station, shadows darkening all around the five of them. They all looked just so fucking sad. Will couldn’t help but feel that pang of guilt for ruining everyone’s day. He remembered the playful banter he interrupted from earlier, something about croutons. Nancy’s fading smile when she saw Will, Steve halting his passionate salad-topping speech.
Will had stolen the whimsy out of everything, transformed the euphoria of the golden afternoon and made it rain - a thunderstorm that quieted down to nothing but crickets with tiny violins.
Will wished he could change that part of himself, the way he magically inconvenienced the people around him like a regrettable wizard. He was a cleric for fuck’s sake, shouldn’t he be the one who heals everyone else? Make everything better?
“Will?” Jonathan asked, his voice cutting through Will’s static and shooting him back to reality. Will didn’t say anything. All he could do was look at Jonathan through his eyelashes. “Mike doesn’t know, does he?”
“Know what?” Robin questioned, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Will and Jonathan.
No, as a matter of fact, Mike had no fucking clue.
Will shook his head.
“Know about what? What happened?” Steve asked, his eyebrows knitting together.
Will didn’t really want to have this conversation, not now. Not in front of Steve or even Robin, whom he loved dearly, but both were blissfully unaware of the violation Will had experienced.
His mother knew, Hopper knew. Obviously, since they both found him. Jonathan knew, and told Nancy in confidence after Will gave him the okay. Will’s not sure why he was alright with her knowing at the time, maybe because he didn’t realize how much of an effect the trauma was going to have on him.
Then again, he didn’t tell the others, especially not Mike. That’s the thing about being a victim of that sort of thing. Suddenly you’re not sure who’s going to see you through a different lens: if they’ll think it was your fault, if you’re dirty and they don’t want to touch you or hold your hand anymore.
Since it happened to Will, he dodged mirrors, minimized his teeth-brushing, or sometimes over-brushed until his mouth turned into an abyss of blood - until he met his standard of whatever clean was.
Dr. Owens described what happened to Will and the aftermath of it all as similar to someone experiencing a sexual assault. He never said this directly to Will himself, but Will overheard it in the waiting room while Owens sat Joyce and Hopper down during a visit at the lab. Dr. Owens stated, in a low murmur, that there seemed to have been two traumas at play there. One: being trapped in an otherworldly dimension, and two: the direct violation of Will’s physical being.
Owens had described the vine as its own vessel, attached to whatever entity roamed that land. Will also never told Owens about the tiny slime creatures he would throw up in the sink, accidentally allowing them to run loose in the pipes down in Hawkins.
Will only had the faintest memory of what happened to him down there in that warped library. At first, he was unconscious and limp, then he felt his body suddenly lift against a wall - his air cut off as he was strangled by presumably the vines that snaked themselves all throughout the realm. Moments passed, then his mouth brimmed and he couldn’t breathe. His heart raced, tears fell from his eyes as he waited patiently for it to all be over.
That voice was all around him, but it wasn’t till later that he knew who it belonged to.
You and I, we are going to do such beautiful things together, William.
He didn’t even know it was a vine.
Will remembered Owens advising his mother to get him some sort of trauma therapist, one that specialized in sexual violence. She at first declined the suggestion as she didn’t understand the correlation from the vine to a person’s appendage.
“That vine wanted your son alive for a purpose, Ms. Byers. We don’t know the exact purpose yet, however your son has been having nightmares not just from this Upside Down, but from some sort of anomaly that latched itself into your son and stayed there long after its removal. Something that barely a man over six foot and 200 pounds could yank out of him. You tell me what that sounds like.”
Will hated the acerbic sway of Owens’ words, how they clearly hung in the air like toxic fumes his mother didn’t know how to breathe in, didn’t want to breathe in.
Owens then used a certain word to describe it, and it made his mom break down. He heard Hopper comforting her, too.
Will tried pushing the word out of his mind; he refused to add it to his vocabulary. That was until the possession from the Mind Flayer and the sensations he felt throughout his whole body because of it. It would make harrowing threats to Will about it happening again if it wasn’t satisfied with Will’s obedience, showing him film footage of his own trauma in his sleep. A constant rewind of nothing but the vine, voice, vine, voice, vine, voice.
In secret, Will crawled to that word on his hands and knees, reaching for it as if it was the last drop of water he’d ever have, just out of sheer desperation to give what happened to him a name. The experience seemed to know Will’s name, so why couldn’t Will know it?
Now, it was a matter of the people around Will viewing him differently. The reason he never told Lucas or Dustin, or Max or Robin. Or Mike. Especially not Mike. He watched Mike slowly evolve into El’s orbit, leaving his place in Will’s and revolving his whole universe around her instead.
Will couldn’t take a second heartbreak, a second abandonment. Mike could accept him for being gay, sure, but could he accept that Will had been violated in a horrific manner and not feel the need to shower after spending a day with him? Or even an hour?
If I tell you what he did to me, is that all you will see when you look at me?
Will glanced at everyone around him, until his eyes landed back on Jonathan who still had one arm around his shoulders.
“It’s okay to talk about it,” Jonathan said.
Will sighed. He fidgeted with the tissue in his hand as if it had all the answers, like it could transfer any courage into his fingertips and travel into the rest of his body.
“No one’s going to see you differently, Will. I promise,” Nancy softly assured him as she tucked some of the hair behind Will’s ear.
“Okay,” he nodded his head. “You know when all the kids who went missing, Holly, Derek, Mary, everyone? And we found them with those vines attached to their mouths?” Will began. Steve and Robin nodded their heads.
“And when we detached them, all that Mind Flayer smoke puffed out of them and blew away in the wind?” Heads kept nodding, following along to Will’s every shaken word. Will’s hands were trembling all over again.
“That’s- that’s what he did to me when I was down there, in the Upside Down. Except-“ a lump formed in his throat, almost blocking the words from meeting his lips.
Yet, through it all, Will lets them out.
“Except it wasn’t smoke, or air or ash when it was attached to me. It was an entire vine, and it was-“ he tripped over his words, the pit in his stomach begging him to shut up, to stop talking about it. A panic rose from within, gnawing at his organs. Will started to dig his nails into his palms, and Nancy reached out to grab his hands as Jonathan held him closer.
“It…did other things to me. Things that - I’m sorry - I just can’t describe right now, but I remember the feeling. It was violating and I never told any of my friends - especially Mike - because I didn’t want them to see me and only see this warped image of something that Vecna did.” Will recoiled into himself as the heavy sobs broke through his panic and practically drowned him.
“I thought I was going to die, and then I did.”
Will hid his face in his hands, either out of shame or grief he didn’t know at this point.
“Maybe I’m being too hard on Mike,” he sniffled. “I never told him any of this, so how could he know?”
Nancy shook her head. “Will, please look at me.” At a moment or two Will removed his face from his hands and met Nancy’s gaze, and the second her round blue eyes took him in everything around them went still. “Even if you remove the vine from the equation, being stuck in an alternate dimension is still an extremely horrible thing to experience, especially at the age of twelve. We all thought we lost you. Mike saw your body being pulled from the quarry, fake body or not, that is life-changing, Will. It wasn’t fair of him to compare your trauma to El’s or compare the loss of her to the loss of you.”
“I remember exactly how Mike was when you disappeared. He was depressed but determined to find you. We all were.” Nancy stated.
“Will, I will never experience the same amount of joy I had when I saw you again. Never, do you understand me? Mike shouldn’t have thrown your trauma into the conversation like that when we all remember what it was like when you were finally found.” Jonathan said through a fountain of tears. Even Steve and Robin looked pitiful despite both being the least connected to the experience. Still, over the years, they’d grown protective of Will as they did for the other kids.
“I’m sorry, Will. I’m sorry you went through all of that so young.” Steve said as he wiped the tears from his eyes.
“Yeah, Byers. You’re one strong son-of-a-gun,” whispered Robin. “Is a group hug out of the question?” she asked with that infectious smile.
Will laughed at the serious deja-vu that was happening to him right now. The reminder of the love he received that awful day, and their willingness to be there to fall back on whenever he needed it, was overwhelming.
He was reluctant about the hug at first, but after a moment, he nodded with his arms out and the four of them gently held him. Will let out a sigh of relief that was burrowed deep inside his lungs.
The hug was healing, not triggering.
Yet, there was something missing. Of course there was.
“It still hurts, what he said.” Will admitted as they each let him go.
“Of course it does, it was a pretty shitty thing for him to say.” Steve validated.
For a minute or two, no one spoke. The sun finally dwindled into a gloomy twilight beam that washed over the station. The shadows cascaded in every corner, on all of them, on the abandoned pizza boxes and plastic plates and flicked croutons.
“What are you going to do now, Will? About, you know, Mike?” Nancy asked. He wasn’t entirely sure, really. The emotional numbness was taking its toll on his body now, and all he could think about was letting sleep wash over him, to allow it to drift him far away from his reality.
Suddenly, through all the numbness, the static, and the heartache, he remembered his acceptance letter from NYU. A full ride, it said. He received the letter over a month ago, it was the last one to arrive in the mail. Will wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted to stay somewhat local and remain close to everyone, or to branch out. The thought of branching out all alone, away from the rest of the party, made him feel utterly empty.
It’s not like he’d be completely alone in New York. Jonathan and Nancy were only visiting Hawkins; they'd return to Manhattan at the beginning of August. His mom and Hopper were moving out to Montauk, and El was on her way to studying abroad in Paris.
Maybe the space would be good. Maybe moving on would be good. It’s not like it would matter to Mike either way.
Without expectation, the phone rang. Everyone looked to Steve and waited for him to go and pick it up.
“Oh don’t everyone get up at once,” he said, the sarcasm palpable. Steve turned on the lamp as he strided over to the receiver to interrupt the ringing.
“Hello?”
A pause, then he made direct eye contact with Will.
“El, hi, uh-“ Steve’s mouth thinned into a straight line.
“Is Will here? Uh-” Another pause.
Will’s eyes stayed locked on Steve’s.
“Mike wants to talk to him if he is? Well I-“
With a hesitant sigh, Will shook his head. It killed him to say no to Mike, but he couldn’t bear the sound of his voice right now.
“No, Will isn’t here right now. Sorry, El.” The eye contact severed between him and Steve as he continued to listen to El talk.
“No, I understand you’re just worried for him. If he stops by I’ll make sure he gives you a call. Alright, bye.” He hung up and huffed out a sigh. “They’re worried about you, man.”
Will looked down at his feet, guilt rising in his chest.
“You don’t have to talk to him right now, but we should probably get you back home or Mom will have a cow.” Jonathan said as he rubbed his hand over Will’s back.
He almost considered spending the night at The Squawk. It’s not like the idea was super foreign; they’d all spent countless nights here. There was coffee and tea, a shower, they still kept spare clothes here for reasons Will didn’t really know. He could rest up on the couch, throw on The Smiths Hateful of Hollow album and cry himself to sleep.
But Will knew that would only help him in the moment. Tomorrow the stars would hide in the crevices of space, the sun would rise, and he would still have Mike’s words lodged in his memory as he would slowly wake up from the safe haven of his sleep.
Not even just the words Mike choked out earlier, but the ones from childhood too.
It’s not my fault you don’t like girls.
My life started that day I found you in the woods.
Mike’s already moved on, somewhere on another planet that Will could never reach.
Will should move on, too.
He closed his eyes and held his breath before releasing. Just because he lost Mike didn’t mean he had to lose the best possible future - life - he could make for himself.
Mike Wheeler wouldn’t follow him to New York City, and that was the best and worst thing to take in.
“I got accepted into NYU.” He blurted out, and everyone’s faces lit up. It was the first real time today that they’d smiled, like the sun bursting through the clouds.
“Will, that’s incredible!” Jonathan exclaimed, the others chiming in to congratulate him as well.
“I wasn't sure if it’s really where I wanted to go, you know? But I have a full ride and they have an excellent art program, and you know it’s a fresh start hundreds of miles away from all of this, and-” Will trailed off, tears threatening to unleash once again. “I need to move on from him. From everything.”
The heat of the afternoon sun resurfaced in his mind from earlier, the smell of the cabin, the sketchbook lying on his lap. Mike’s curious brown eyes darting down to the paper, and now Will is absolutely mortified that he left his art just out in the open, where anyone could see what he was drawing. He ejected the sketchbook to the other side of the sofa and didn't care in the moment when it plopped down to the floor before taking off.
It was a sketch of Mike.
A sketch of his perfect hair, his perfect eyes, his perfect nose, his perfect lips, jaw, neck, grin, ears, freckles. It was all a constant mental painting for Will, a portrait of everything his heart craved for but never tasted.
God, Will, you’re so fucking pathetic.
Pathetic for pining after someone who was clearly straight, who had been in love with someone who would eventually become Will’s sister, who was now his long-lost twin. Will couldn’t compete with her, not even just because she was born with unique abilities, but also her charm and beauty and kindness. El was the strongest person Will had ever met, and what makes all of this so much worse is understanding why Mike fell head over heels for her. That selfish part of Will wished that she and him could just switch places - switch roles - just to feel that devotion from Mike.
“I can’t keep doing this,” Will trembled in front of them all once more. He wrapped his arms around himself, feeling like a small, lost child all over again.
It’s not my fault you don’t like girls.
“I need to move on from him. Please just let me move on from him!” He wasn't sure if he was yelling at more: the others or himself.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Jonathan pulled him in close, and Will threw his arms around him and buried his face into his shoulder. “He doesn’t deserve you, Will. At least not until he figures himself out.”
“I agree,” Nancy added. “He had no right to diminish your pain like this, Will. It wasn’t right.” That only made Will cry harder. Nancy got up from her side of the couch and held him. Robin joined right after, then Steve walked around the couch to engulf Will in his arms too.
“You don’t deserve to feel this way, Will. Not after everything you’ve survived, and I know it sucks right now, but imagine choosing New York. After everything that’s been taken from you, you’re finally the one in control of your narrative. You get to wake up in a dorm that’s yours.” Nancy said.
“You get to hang fairy lights, put up your drawings, drink overly priced coffee, and…start your illustration career.” Jonathan smiled through his own tears. Will’s sobbing was finally beginning to stagger.
“Imagine all those cute NYU boys falling at your feet, holding your books, walking you to your classes.” Robin swooned, grinning at the idea.
Will could picture it all as clear as day. The busy streets, the early mornings and burnt bagels and sweet coffee. The roommates, the late-night studying above the city that never sleeps.
Would the distance bandage the dull ache inside his chest? Could the miles in between him and Mike teeter Will towards the edge of finally getting his sanity back? Will wasn't sure if he was ready to try and find the happiness in the details that would be woven into his brand-new life. A life without Mike.
What if Will ceased all contact with him? What would that even look like? There wouldn’t be a conversation about it, that’s for sure. All Mike would have to do is bat those stupid big brown eyes at Will and he would be done for. No more New York, new people or new opportunities. It would just be Will begging for Mike at his feet, begging for him to see him and his trauma for what it was, to hold both of these things with care. Mike couldn’t grant it.
“I’m going to New York, and I need you guys to promise me something. I’ll talk to my parents, El, Max, Lucas, and Dustin about this too, but if I’m going to move on and be happy…I need to be completely unreachable to him.” He started wiping his tears on the old tissue he was still holding. It was wrinkled and torn a little now, but still usable.
There was a moment of silence as the outside noises bled into the station. Crickets, an owl, and maybe even the faint twinkling of stars. No one agreed or rejected his idea.
Was he insane for this?
“I mean…if that’s what you want, Will, then I think that’s okay.” Nancy breathed.
“We support you, however you want to move on from this,” Jonathan said. Will nodded and looked around the room before settling his gaze back down to his feet.
“Could you guys all promise me one thing?” Will asked.
“Of course,” Robin said.
“Make sure no one tells Mike where I’m going.”