Chapter Text
Derry, Maine wasn't loud.
That was the first thing Will noticed.
Hawkins had always been full of noise— but Derry felt muted. Like the volume had been turned down on the whole world.
---
Will stared out the car window as Joyce drove them through streets that didn't know his name yet. The houses were lined up neatly, porches bright and welcoming, trees arching over the sidewalks like they'd always been there. The leaves were impossibly green for August, too alive, like nothing bad had ever happened beneath them.
Jonathan sat in the passenger seat, quiet but alert, one arm resting against the door as he watched the road ahead. Joyce kept talking—about schools, grocery stores, how nice everything looked—her voice light, hopeful, determined.
El sat beside Will, knees pulled up to her chest, headphones on but not playing anything. She stared out the window just like he did, her reflection faint in the glass. Neither of them spoke. They didn't need to.
Behind them, Hopper's truck followed closely behind, two moving trucks behind hopper as well, carrying everything they had from Hawkins to this new place they'll call "home" . Joyce had said multiple times that it will be a new and fresh start for them all.
Will wasn't sure if places like that really existed—but as Derry stretched out in front of them, he hoped this one might at least try.
---
The new house was big—bigger than Will expected—and warm in a way that felt intentional, like it was trying to welcome them in.
Joyce barely let the car doors close before she was moving again, already halfway to the moving truck, talking a mile a minute to Hopper as she grabbed boxes. She kept filling the air with words, laughter, plans—anything to cover the quiet weight that followed them all the way from Hawkins.
Hopper just shook his head fondly, lifting heavier boxes with ease. "Joyce, we don't have to do everything in one day."
"Yes we do," she said immediately. "We're starting fresh, remember?"
The rest of them—Will, Jonathan, and El—joined in, carrying box after box inside. The entryway opened wide, with polished floors and soft light pouring in through tall windows. Before you even reached the living room, the house already felt open and bright, like it had space to breathe.
The living room was huge, stretching out with high ceilings and a staircase tucked near the wall. Under the stairs was a small door—low and narrow—that led down to the basement.
To the left was the kitchen, warm and cozy, with a dining room sitting right beside it, sunlight spilling across the table. It felt like the kind of place where people actually sat down together.
After a while, Joyce clapped her hands together, dusting them off.
"Okay! I know there are rooms upstairs," she announced. "There are three to be exact. Jonathan, you and El can pick first. Me and Hopper will take the main bedroom thats downstairs."
Jonathan and El were already halfway up the stairs before she finished speaking.
Will followed more slowly, his arms wrapped around a box filled with sketchbooks, pencils, and paint—the things he couldn't afford to lose.
Upstairs opened into a hallway, light and quiet. The first door, closest to the stairs, was already claimed—El had pushed it open, standing inside with a small smile as she looked around.
"I like this one," she said, trying to sound excited.
Jonathan leaned against the wall farther down the hall, near the room at the very end. "I'll take this one," he said easily.
The hallway didn't end there, though.
If you turned right at Jonathan's door, the hall bent into an L-shape, and at the very end—slightly tucked away—was Will's room.
Will paused there, taking it in. It felt... quieter. Safer.
Jonathan watched him for a moment. "You okay with that one?"
Will nodded. "Yeah. I think I like it."
El lingered in the doorway of her room, fidgeting with her hands. "It's... nice," she said again, softer this time. She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
Will knew why.
Mike wasn't here.
They unpacked until the house felt less like a stranger and more like something they could grow into. Two bathrooms—one upstairs, one down—boxes stacked neatly, furniture slowly finding its place.
"That's it," Joyce said, forcing a smile. "We're done unpacking for today."
Hopper squeezed her hand. "Chinese takeout?"
Her face lit up. "Yes. Absolutely."
A couple of minutes had passed and they ate together in the dining room, cartons spread across the table to serve what they'll like to eat in their plate, the house glowing softly around them. Joyce leaned into Hopper's side, her engagement ring catching the light every time she moved.
For the first time that day, Will let himself breathe.
Maybe this place could be home.
---
School started two days later.
Will memorized his schedule the moment it was handed to him. As a junior, he didn't expect to share many classes with El, but that didn't stop the two of them from standing shoulder to shoulder at the kitchen counter that morning, papers spread out between them.
"Okay... period one, no," El said, dragging her finger down the page.
Will shook his head. "We both have history just different teachers."
"Second period?" she tried again.
"Nope."
"Third?"
"Also no."
"Oh, what about lunch?"
"I think I have last lunch? It's from 1:20 to 1:50"
"Lucky mines 12:50-1:15"
They moved in silence for a moment, the kind that wasn't uncomfortable—just focused. Then El stopped.
"Sixth period," she said quietly. "Math with Mr. Sanchez"
Will leaned closer, checking both schedules again.
"Yeah," he said. "Same class."
Out of six classes, it was the only one they shared. Somehow, that made it feel important. Jonathan drove them to school, one hand on the wheel, the other resting against the door. The radio played softly in the background, some song Will didn't recognize. Derry passed by outside the windows, unfamiliar and bright.
"You nervous?" Jonathan asked, glancing at them in the rearview mirror.
El shrugged. "A little."
Will hesitated. "Yeah."
"That's normal," Jonathan said. "First days always suck."
El tilted her head. "Did your first day suck?"
Jonathan snorted. "Every single one."
That earned a small smile from her.
Jonathan slowed at a stoplight. "You'll be okay besides it's Jane Eleanor Hopper and William Byers--"
"Ew dont call me William"
"The unstoppable and unexpected duo" he added.
"And if anyone gives you trouble—"
"We can handle it," El said quickly.
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "I know. Just saying."
Will watched the school come into view, his stomach twisting. "What if I get lost?" he asked.
Jonathan smiled at him through the mirror. "Then you get lost. Everyone does. It's kind of the tradition."
El reached over and lightly bumped her shoulder against Will's. "We have sixth period," she said, like a promise.
Will nodded, gripping his backpack a little tighter. "Yeah."
Will glanced at El as they climbed out of the car, and for a second he felt a strange sad? Feeling inside. There was something steady about her—about the way her hair falls perfectly without her trying, her brown eyes with a hint of curiousity, brave in a quiet way. Her gentle smile wasn't loud or practiced; it was perfect, like it meant something when she gave it to you. She didn't try to be impressive, and somehow that made her impossible to ignore. Will understood it, even if it stung a little—understood why Mike saw her the way he did, why he was drawn to her strength and her honesty, the way she cared so fiercely without needing to say much at all. Will liked Mike in a way he didn't have words for, but standing there beside El, he knew this much was true: anyone would be lucky to be loved by her.
---
Derry High smelled like cleaning supplies and old books. Will walked through the hallways with his head down, backpack straps tight in his hands. He felt smaller here. Like he'd been shrunk down and placed in someone else's life.
First period passed quietly. History was never that exciting to will.
Second period went pretty quick, considering it was English. He knew El was in science right now, probably being quiet or nervous just like he was.
By third period, he had Art — the one class he'd been looking forward to. He even caught a glimpse of El in the hallway between classes. They exchanged a quick wave, nothing more. He knew she was headed to some kind of music class. Lunch was coming soon, and Will tried not to think about it too much.
By the time lunch arrived, Will was considering eating in the bathroom, he wasn't hungry and he was just sketching in his bookwhen a voice cut through his thoughts.
"Whoa. That's sick."
Will looked up, startled.
A boy leaned over his sketchbook, brown eyes bright with curiosity behind a pair of slightly crooked glasses. His hair was messy in a way that looked intentional, and his smile was confident — easy. The glasses caught the cafeteria lights, and for a split second, Will's chest tightened.
He looked like Mike.
Not exactly — but enough. Same kind of energy. Same warmth in his face. Will felt his ears heat up before he could stop it, and he quickly looked back down at the page.
"You drew all this?" the boy asked.
Will swallowed. "Yeah."
"I'm Richie," he said immediately. "And you're sitting with us now."
"Us?" Will echoed.
Richie pointed across the cafeteria where a group of kids sat together—laughing, talking over each other, looking like they'd known one another forever.
Before Will could protest, Richie grabbed his tray.
"C'mon, new kid. You look like you could use better company."
Will didn't know why, but he followed.
---
"Hey, Richie—who's this?"
The girl who spoke had bright, cropped red hair that caught the cafeteria light like it was on fire. She sat relaxed but alert, elbows on the table, chin tilted up with a kind of sharp confidence. Freckles dusted her cheeks, and her green eyes flicked from Richie to Will with open curiosity, not judgment—like she'd already decided he was worth noticing.
Richie grinned. "Very simple, Bev—this is, uh... what's your name again, New Kid?"
Will blinked, shoulders tensing. "I'm Will."
"Excellent," Richie said, slapping the table once. "Short names are efficient. I like you already."
From the lunch table, someone snorted.
"That's because you like everyone for five minutes," The boy who said it had neat curly brown hair with light skin, and hazel eyes,, posture straight even while sitting. He was halfway through an apple, holding it carefully like he was determined not to make a mess. His eyes looked will up and down before he went back to his bird book.
Richie clutched his chest dramatically. "Lies and slander, Stan. I like him for at least ten."
Will smiled before he realized he was doing it at the tone Richie used. Stanley raised an eyebrow but didn't argue.
Richie turned back to Will, motioning for him to sit down which he did and Richie did the same. "Okay, introductions before Stan here judges your entire soul."
He pointed around the table like a game show host.
"Red is Beverly—Bev if you want to live. The the judgmental apple is Stanley Uris, also known as Stan-the-Man."
Stan gave a small, resigned nod.
"Over there," Richie continued, "is Eddie —"
Eddie lifted his hand in a quick, uncertain wave. He has slight tan skin and skinny, with carefully combed light brown hair and big, nervous eyes. His posture was tense, shoulders slightly hunched, like he expected something to go wrong at any moment.
"Hi"
"Eddie Bear-"
Eddie frowned. "Dont call me that Richie."
"And that," Richie interrupted smoothly, "is Big Ben Hanscom."
Ben looked up from his tray, round-faced with soft features and sandy brown hair that fell over his forehead. His face flushed easily when he smiled, which he did now—kind and genuine. "Hey," he said warmly. "What kind of music do you like?"
Will hesitated, then answered honestly. "Uh... mostly Bowie. And The Smiths."
Ben's face lit up. "Nice."
At the end of the table sat another boy, taller than the rest, with neatly kept dark brown hair combed just enough to look intentional, though a few strands still fell forward. His blue eyes were steady and thoughtful, watching more than speaking. There was something gentle but firm in the way he held himself.
"And thats Billiam well Bill" Bill looked up when Richie gestured toward him and gave Will a polite, quiet nod and waved.
"N-nice to meet you."
"It's nice to meet every single one of you really." Will said
"So," Richie said, leaning back. "What's your schedule, New Kid?"
Will paused, pulling on the straps of his bag tighter. "Uh... first period history."
Ben's eyes widened. "Me too."
"English second," Will added.
Stan pointed at him with his apple. "Same."
"Third period art."
Bill's head lifted. "Me, too."
"Fourth period gym," Will finished, wincing slightly.
Beverly laughed. "Looks like you're stuck with me and Richie."
Richie pumped a fist. "Yes!"
"And fifth period science," Will said.
Eddie groaned softly. "I'm so sorry in advance."
Beverly laughed at eddies comment before she leaned forward a little, clearly encouraged. "So... you draw?"
Will nodded, a bit shy. "Yeah. Mostly monsters and stuff. Sometimes comics. I like designing characters too."
Bill smiled "Hold on. You dr-draw monsters?"
Will shrugged. "And maps. I play D&D sometimes."
Eddie froze mid-bite. "You play Dungeons and Dragons?"
"Yeah," Will said carefully, unsure if he'd just said something wrong.
Instead, Eddie's eyes lit up. "I mean— I'm not allowed to play anymore, but I used to. My mom said it was... bad."
Stan sighed without looking up from his book. "Your mom thinks everything is bad."
"Do you still have your drawings?" Ben asked which caused Will to hesitate , then he looked at the book he was holding with his hands and he flipped it open to a page filled with inked figures — cloaked silhouettes, jagged creatures, a dungeon corridor, with each page that's flipped, a new drawing is discovered.
Stan leaned in first. "These are really good," he said which caused Will to smile.
Bill studied the page for a moment longer than the others. "T-These are really g-good since we both have art maybe n-next time we can sit together in c-class."
Will looked up at him, surprised.
Richie slapped the table. "Okay, i have called it since I first saw it but now that everyone has seen your drawings. You're officially cool. Eds, write that down."
"Don't call me Eds" Eddie said dryly.
"And movies?" Bev asked.
"Horror," Will admitted. "And sci-fi. Old stuff too."
"YES," Richie said. "Someone else who understands cinema. We need to go hangout and watch movies at some point."
They talked through the rest of lunch — about comics Ben liked, movies Richie quoted endlessly, Eddie's encyclopedic knowledge of medical side effects, and how Stan collected bird facts.
At one point Bill added, "M-Mike would've liked this c-conversation."
Will tilted his head. "Mike?" His heart skipped a beat hearing that name.
Bill nodded. "M-Mike Hanlon. He's homeschooled. H-his parents travel a lot. B-but he's still p-part of us."
"He's a smart, respectful man," Richie added. "And the moral compass. Which is rude, honestly."
The bell rang, loud and abrupt.
Everyone groaned.
"Well," Bev said, standing and slinging her bag over her shoulder, "back to the nightmare."
Richie popped up beside Will immediately as he got
Up. "Well it's just me, you, and Beverly for now," Richie said. "Prepare for humiliation and dodgeballs."
Bev smirked. "Mostly Richie's humiliation."
Before Eddie left the lunch table he walked to Will nervously. "Just to be sure you got science for fifth period, right?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. Good. I wanted to ask if you'll like you can sit beside me, I sit in the front."
"Of course I will I'll see you after fourth period." Will waved bye at Eddie as he quickly left the cafeteria to get to his class.
Richie leaned over Will's shoulder. "What do you have for last period?"
Will glanced down. "Uh... math. With Jane."
Richie blinked. "Jane?"
"Shes like my step sister in a way," Will explained. "She goes by El."
"Oh," Bev said softly. "Thats cool."
Richie grinned. "Look at you, New Kid. One day in and you've already got a table, a friend group , and a seemingly good schedule."
Will smiled — the type of smile one can't hold back which caused Will to look the other way as they headed off to class together.
And just like that, school didn't feel so impossible anymore.