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You’re the heart, Mike.
Will’s words had been weighing on Mike ever since he reached Hawkins. While reuniting with the Party, it became glaringly obvious that he was not the heart of the group.
There were so many contenders for the title; for example, there was Will, who practically recruited the entire town to his rescue mission. Or Dustin, who stayed loyal no matter how many times the rest of the Party pushed him away. And Eleven – where could he even start? Without her, the group would be dead. His only contribution was holding her hand along the way.
If El had commissioned the painting, why would he be the heart? She wasn’t academically great, but her intuition was perfect.
You’re the heart.
She would never say that.
—
The thought struck him again as they sat together in Hopper’s cabin. Her hair was still cut down, but with the help of Steve’s hair products, curls and life returned to her head. She was peaceful, finally being home. He didn’t mean to blurt it out.
“Why did you tell Will to paint me as the heart?” El’s face, now tense and screwed up in confusion, was not the expected reaction.
“I did not tell Will to paint anything,” she frowned. Mike wondered vaguely if she was just being modest, but that strongly contradicted ‘friends don’t lie’.
“Will told me you commissioned a painting of the Party. In that painting, I was ‘the heart’ of the group, but we both know that’s not true,” he rambled. El’s head was tilted sideways as she analyzed his features.
“You believe that I asked for a painting,” she said bluntly. “Will lies.”
This was a new revelation. A deeply untrue revelation. “You don’t get it, El, Will never lies. Why would he lie?”
“Ask him, not me,” she frowned. Mike wished he could go back to before he started talking; when she was at home with the chance to not worry about the issues surrounding her.
—
It was nearly comical how quickly he left El’s room for where Will was staying in the cabin. The Byer’s weren’t quite allowed to buy back their home, so the cabin meant for two now housed five.
He didn’t bother to knock when he stepped into the room. Will looked up from his comic with a million questions to ask, but for once, Mike didn’t care.
“Why did you lie about your painting?” he asked, not giving Will a chance to talk.
“What?”
“The painting, Will. You said El commissioned it, that she needed me to be the heart,” he continued. All Will could do was stare with a dry mouth and wide eyes. “I knew it wasn’t true, but it was easier to take because all she’s been doing is lying. But you? Why would you lie to me?”
At first, the silence was bearable, but Will’s continued struggle with forming words was starting to hurt.
“In the van, you just kept going. You had so many things to tell me about how El felt. Why can’t you tell me how you feel?”
“Everything I said was true,” Will said quietly. He was looking at the ground now, like he was too ashamed to make eye contact.
“About El?” Mike challenged. The lying was unbearable.
“It was never about El!” he shouted. “I made the painting, okay? Everything I said was how I felt. And it was so shitty of me to use her as a cover, but I’ve never been brave. Not like you."
Will stood up and left the room, finally looking him in the eyes. Everything hurt.
—
Things between the two of them were tense, and everyone knew it. Even Lucas had to usher them out of Max’s hospital room, because ‘their presence was too negative’.
Sitting outside of the door in the eerie hallway only made it worse. The hospital had too many memories for the both of them to handle. Inside, it felt like a bubble was growing with every second spent in silence.
“I’m not the heart, Will.”
Will looked away.
“Everything I said was true.”
It was getting repetitive.
“So what if it’s just me who thinks it?” Will asked, turning to look at Mike. “Why does it matter?”
“Because of all people, you shouldn’t believe that,” he urged, looking anywhere but his face.
“Who decides that?” Will pressed on, sliding against the wall to sit closer to him.
“I don’t know,” Mike breathed. He looked over for a second, vision clouding. “I don’t know.”
And maybe Mike needed to be more open.
Maybe he needed to be honest about how he felt.
He leaned forward, making eye contact.
And when their lips touched, Will knew.