Chapter Text
Mike Wheeler was one of the most idiotic people he's ever met.
Of course he couldn't recognize his own feelings for his best friend until he had to feel the dead weight of his cold body in the Abyss. Even as he looked so peaceful, the permanent scrunch from years of hard living finally etched out of his face, his chest wasn't moving. His gorgeous hazel eyes weren't bearing into his soul the way they were trained to do. His tantalizing lips weren't moving to reassure Mike that it would all be okay.
It was all so wrong.
He was certain there were cries from the company around him; the party had to bear witness to the same tragedy as him, as did Will's family. His brother. His found sister, El. His mother. Joyce. He was positive she was crying in her son's arms somewhere in the distance, but Mike had a difficult time hearing anything over his own wails. He's never cried this harsh before, never this openly. He might have cared a little more if it wasn't Will in his arms. Will. Why wasn't anyone coming up to Will? Was he the only one who cared enough?
"You-You've gotta let him go, Mike." a voice said in the background, though closer to him than any of the others. His head turned slightly in the direction, and it was his sister.
"Nancy." he muttered pitifully before a broken sob overtook him again, curling his arms into Will further.
Oh. That's why no one is coming up to him. I'm literally hogging him.
Nancy's gaze was one full of heartbreak, but Mike knew she wouldn't let that deter her from the goal at hand. "We need to go, Mike. We still need to get rid of the Upside Down." her hand reached out towards him, and a snap reaction overtook him before he knew what he was doing.
"Don't touch him!" he spat out, shying away as his anguished expression was replaced with one of bitterness. He didn't intend to snip at her, and Nancy assumed so as her composure didn't falter. If anything, she looked like pity was all she could offer right now.
I don't need pity. I need my Will back.
Mike knew she was right, though. They needed to leave, needed to get the kids out of here and El and Kali before the government became a bigger problem. He needed to pull himself together. He needed to be the heart. Not just for the group, but for Will. He needed to be strong for him one last time. Mike could break down later, could shut himself away from civilization when everyone was safe and no longer in imminent danger.
Mike moved to a crouched position, lifting Will's body in a bridal position and shocking the rest of the group. "Let's go." he said simply, moving for the exit of the living hell hole he just knew would never escape his nightmares.
"Mike-"
"No." he cut Dustin off, having little room left to feel bad at his blunt tone. "Nancy is right. We need to go. These kids have seen enough, and we can mourn when everyone is safe and this place is fucking gone." he risked a glance in Joyce's direction, who was looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky. He didn't deserve such admiration or love, not when it was his fault for her son's death. Not when the one person he could confidently say rivaled the galaxy in beauty and uniqueness was resting still in his arms.
Grovel later Mike.
"… Okay." Dustin relented, finding his footing again as if it was for the first time.
The walk back to the gate was deafening, if Mike said so himself. His legs were killing him, and his arms and back ached from the boy's weight in his arms, but he would never let him go. Not yet. It wasn't even a thought, rather he should have built some muscle throughout the years to be useful.
"Mike?" Jonathan whispered, and it was the first thing he'd said since- yeah, a while. Mike hummed as a response, and a wavering sigh was all he could hear in return. "I-… I could-"
"No. It's fine." Mike cut him off, knowing he was offering to take Will from him. That's just it, though: he wanted to take Will away from him. Mike would not allow that, not now and not ever. Jonathan was just trying to be helpful, Mike knew that. Mike also knew he needed the boy's weight in his arms to fucking breathe. He was one misstep away from taking one of Nancy's guns and blowing a sixth hole in his face. He didn't need to create any loose cannons by being nice.
Still. "Sorry." he muttered, sniffling as he saw Jonathan's warm gaze to his left hold nothing but kindness. He truly didn't deserve it, but what else was he to do? Snap at him for considering him as his family? That thought reminds him of a simpler time. A time where Mike and Will could still hold hands and pull each other along giggling without being called slurs. A time where heartwarming meals littered the table instead of artillery and battle plans. A time where Mike was Mikey to Will and Jonathan was Johnny to them both. Tears pricked his eyes once again, and the feeling was much more bittersweet than the utter sorrow from before. He realized he was being selfish; Jonathan needed Will just as much as he did- hell, maybe even more- and who was he to stop that? He also knew Will loved his brother more than anything, he adored him similarly to a celebrity. Jonathan didn't just need this, Will needed this. Needed all of them with due time, and when had Mike been known to deny him.
"Johnny?" Mike tasted the foreign word on his tongue, it had been nearly a decade since he'd used it. He decided he didn't mind it. Jonathan whipped his head over immediately, his attention grabbed from the nickname alone. "I lied. Can you…" he took a deep nasal breath in, "Can you take him?" his voice cracked a little unintentionally, and he hated how vulnerable his friends were seeing him right now.
"Ye-Yeah, yeah, I can." Jonathan scrambled to meet him at his pace, prepping his arms as Mike begrudgingly slid Will into place. Mike took a sharp intake of breath, the feeling like sucking in jaggard pieces of glass, as he finally saw how Will looked in the arms of someone else. He was so beautiful. It hurt him more than he allowed himself to admit right now how he could only have those thoughts unashamed now that he was gone. Now that his opinion wasn't there to stress about. Now that he couldn't confess the secret he'd finally grasped onto.
"Take good care of him, okay?" he whimpered, feeling his bottom lip quiver dangerously. Jonathan- in the same state as him- could only nod as his dried tears were layered with a fresh set. Mike had to tear his eyes away. Forcing his mind to set a steady pace and the feel of his arms wrapped tightly around himself was the only thing grounding him.
He didn't dare look at Joyce right now.
Mike had to fight the urge to clear his throat. His voice was burning, scratched raw from overuse. He truly had never cried like that in his life, and he found it doubtful he ever would again. At least, he prayed to God he didn't.
God was a mighty bitch alright. What was that about hearing every prayer? It didn't seem so to Mike as he stared hauntingly at El. El: sweet, selfless, sacrificial El.
"What do you think you're doing…" Mike's voice was a haunting whisper as he took in his surroundings, or more like lack thereof. There was an endless void for as far as he could see and water barely covered the floor. This was El's mind, she had mentioned numerous times what it looked like. Mike had to be present for every new party member witnessing her use of her powers, so he quickly adapted to telling them the layout for her. Nonetheless, actually being there was unexplainable. His respect for El grew significantly once again at the life she's been forced to endure.
What she was trying to endure for them again.
"Mike…" her smile was sweet, but he could see the melancholic tint lingering at the corners of her mouth. Her pace towards him was steady, but Mike practically stumbled over himself to meet her. Her hands instinctively flew to cradle his face, and Mike was brought back to the memories he had of El when they were dating— only the really good ones. Not the times when he couldn't stomach the soft caress of her hands against his face while they kissed, certainly not when she dumped him outside starcourt.
No, Mike was reminded of the warmth of her presence, not just physically but emotionally. Mike definitely wasn't winning any boyfriend of the year awards, but El ran laps around him in their relationship. She understood Mike in a way only Will could compare. It's no wonder Mike chose El, they were so fundamentally similar it hurt. The way they cared about people with such genuineness it made others weary of them. The visible spark they got in their eyes when talking about something they found to be passionate about. The blinding love they had for Mike, always endless and never conditional. The harsh treatment they've received from the world their entire lives, starting from horrid fathers to inter-dimensional torture and forced government control, finally ending with sacrifice.
They were simply too similar.
"El, no." Mike insisted, refusing to hear whatever delusional plan she's concocted that somehow convinced her dying would solve everything.
"I have to, Mike." El's voice squeaked an octave higher when his name slipped past her lips, and his quivered similarly to just an hour earlier. "Please don't cry." The way she wiped his tears away was far too tender for Mike to handle right now. His tears were full force, and he couldn't find it in himself to care anymore.
"No no no, th- there has to be a- a-…" he took a shaky breath, "We'll think of something, anything, anything but this!" he pleaded. The way something in El's eyes broke should have made him feel remorseful, yet the only emotion rushing through his veins was triumph.
Get through to her, break through, get in her head, snap her out of it, don't do this, I can't do this, she can't do this, never again.
"I wish things could have been different. I wish-…" she paused, whether to brace herself for the words or to take a breath he couldn't tell. "I wish we could have been happy. Truly happy." the intent was hidden in her words, but Mike saw through it. She knows. How long has she known? Has she always known? As if she could read Mike's thoughts, she brought their foreheads together and nodded slightly.
"El, I-"
"It's okay, Mike. It's okay." her smile hurt Mike. It was so considerate, so understanding, so… El. Mike was certain he didn't deserve her mercy. She should be shoving him about, flailing her limbs as she hurled insults that cut deeper than any Demogorgon could. Mike has to once again remind himself who he's talking about. He's delving further into his thoughts the longer they remain still. He almost didn't comprehend her words until she released him from her warmth. They were still in the mind space, and yet Mike swore he could feel a draft from her absence.
"I see you. I… see you, Mike."
Mike couldn't tell if it was the look she was trying to convey to him or her little uncharacteristic quirk turning a corner of her mouth into a smug grin, but he's never felt so proud and devistated for a human being in his life. Well, no one other than Will.
God, has he always been like this? Constantly comparing the two? They deserved much better than that.
If I could, I would go back and make it better.
"I need to do this." the purpose of this void visit grounds Mike once again and he felt his shoulders shoot back up tensely. "It will never end if I do not, and I cannot live a peaceful life knowing there are children suffering the way I did. The way we did." she specifies, seeking to find a common ground.
It wasn't going to work. "The only suffering will be us. The party. We aren't the party without you. Every party needs a mage, we didn't even know what we were missing without you before." he laughed, but the noise sounded wet and ugly, like it was unnecessarily forceful in a way that would still a room. "We don't know how to function without you— I don't El, I just can't. Not you too. Not after—" my wizard, he wanted to say. My sorcerer, he instantly corrected. My Will, he meant with his whole heart.
"I love you Mike." El whispered, and it was the most earnest thing she'd said yet. "I love all of you, which is why I am confident I need to do this. Tell—" she stumbled, her calm facade cracking, "Tell Hopper how much I love him, how I will never forget what he's done for me and how I thank myself every day for grabbing those Eggos from that box in the woods." she laughed, and her face brightened from its haunted expression at the memory.
"Tell the party I won't be upset at them for finding a new mage. I encourage it, actually." she squeezed Mike's arm reassuringly, but his body felt like it was burning over a fire of pure ice.
"You can tell them-"
"Mike, please."
"… okay." he muttered, finally relenting. He knew every point she made was correct, and yet he had never been so selfish in his life as right now. In this moment, when the lives of numerous innocents was at stake, all Mike could care about was his feelings and his party. He couldn't even find it in himself to care. Mike faintly hears a voice in the back of his head ponder if he would've been the same way had he actually had a last conversation with Will. The voice fizzles out as quick as it comes; there's no need to think on an idea that's answered before it's fully asked.
"Tell Max," this seemed to be her breaking point. El was so strong, but her fear was palpable and it reminded Mike that she was another human being. He hated the feeling stemming at the expense of her happiness, but it grounded Mike slightly. Made him feel needed, important, even now. "Tell Max that… that I love her. More than anything." seeing Mike's eyebrows shoot up, she hurries to add, "and that I love her love for Lucas and always will. Nothing would change that— them."
"When…"
El let a little grin overtake her deep frown. "California gave me a lot of time to think. Plus," her grin calmed into a fond smile, "I got a lot of love at the end of her letters when I couldn't from you."
"El," Mike starts, tries to apologize for the umpteenth time, when there's a heavy tug to his back ripping him from the comfort of El. He blinks heavily and finds himself right where he was before: pinned underneath a soldier while staring helplessly as El stands in the wreckage of the Upside Down. Watching her clenched fists flex before relaxing at her sides. Feeling every crushing weight of her life float off of her in waves.
There was too much happening. His friends were screaming over each other for El, the government was rushing to retrieve their precious "package" before she was lost forever, and Mike was trying to not let the sound of his heart beating overwhelm his senses. He honestly didn't know how he was forming cognitive thoughts at the moment. They made eye contact, and he saw her mouth a thank you before there was too much debris from the explosion and she disappeared. The vortex was too strong, everyone was fighting to grasp something or someone for stability. Mike hugged the ground— he was there anyways— and waited until he felt the cold sting of his tears against the wind stop. Lifting his head from underneath his arms, he shrugged the soldier off him and stood up quickly, walking towards the entrance to the Upside Down. Well, what was the entrance. Now…
Mike turned around as he felt a thousand sets of eyes on him. No one knew what to do, where to go from this, hell, how to fucking breathe. A glance to his right reveals Jonathan, still cradling a limp body. Still protecting his baby brother even in death.
Death. Will was dead.
El was dead.
Dead. They were both dead.
Dead. Dead.
Dead dead dead dead.
Gone.
A core shattering gasp exited Mike before he could control himself. His knees folded in on himself and fell with a loud thud of his bones meeting the harsh concrete. A scream was ripped raw out of Mike. A release of emotion so pure, so full of life and yet devoid of anything as such, it jump-started a cacophony of matching cries. He curled in on himself, gripping his hair through his beanie somehow still resting on his head. It wasn't enough. He ripped the hat off roughly, seeking purchase in the roots of his hair as he gripped and pulled. He needed pain. He needed a grounding force. His only sources were just taken from him, and Mike realized at the worst possible moment how dependent he was of the power twins.
Mike wanted to always be the dependable force. Vulnerability was never a release Mike found comfort in, but rather being the rock for others that did. It proved Mike's doubts wrong: that he was needed, that he was wanted. He used to yearn for more in his youth, but age hardened that little crack in his shell until he figured he should settle for what he got. Beggars can't be choosers, and Mike would never be a beggar. Begging admitted defeat. Begging meant weakness. His pulls became full yanking.
Mike would trade all of his father's useless words if it meant he got them back.
I want to go back.
"We'll go crazy together right?"
"Yeah. Crazy together."
I want… I want to go back please.
"Yeah, but what if you want to join another party?"
"Not possible."
Please… please let me go back.
"So, yeah, El needs you, Mike. And she always will."
I NEED to go back. I'm begging you, please! Please let me make it right!
"What matters is that you're still here, and you still think we can be friends"
Will… El…
"Yeah, Mike. That's the problem."
Give me the strength to find a way.
"You guys are never in the mood anymore."
Let me prove I can love you, Will.
"You're ruining our party!"
"That's not true!"
What? Did I say that?
"Really? Where's Dustin right now?"
Mike felt a flurry of senses rush through him at once. There was too much happening in every one of his senses, he thought he was going to explode, like he was a kernel being pressurized into a piece of popcorn. He still had half a mind to recognize it wasn't the time to empathize with food.
Mike could hear the heavy rain thudding in the background. The sun had ducked back behind the clouds and seemed content to stay there a while, making everything around him grey and depressing. He could feel the grimy coating on his teeth indicating he hadn't brushed them. The rain tainted the July humidity with a chill, one that raised goosebumps on his arms. There was always a certain scent to a rain storm too, but that was being overpowered by the heavy odor of oils and metals. Mike doesn't need his eyes to know he's in his garage. Speaking of his eyes, it was odd that they were the near last sense to focus. It reminded him of a camera that was being zoomed in and out at a pace too unstable for it to regulate. Now that he logged away all the other interjecting factors stabbing at his other senses, though, they were currently resting on someone he never thought he'd get to see again. A sweet boy who currently hosted a snarl irregular to him. A boy not yet the man he was forced to become in only two years. The most ethereal human being in every aspect Mike is confident he'll ever lay his eyes on.
Will.
Will.
He assumes his expression is less than stellar right now, but by the anger laced around his vocals Will seems to be on a roll. Tears wanted to spring out of his eyes, but Mike knew it took a lot for the boy to get to this point and any interruption would lead to a complete shutdown. No matter what, Will would always come first.
Unfortunately Mike remembers this memory clearer than any of his last 24 hours.
"See? You don't know and you don't even care, and obviously he doesn't either and I don't even blame him." Will's arms were a whirlwind, body bouncing back and forth with a desperation to express his frustrations to the one person he should never have to do this with.
God I'm such a fuck up.
The bigger query was how the hell was Mike here? They killed Vecna— there was no way that wasn't an absolute fact— and they all saw the Upside Down being destroyed by the bomb. This should be impossible in every semi-plausible instance, there's no way Mike was so fucking desperate the universe granted him time travel…
"You're destroying everything, and for what? So you can swap spit with some stupid girl?!"
The words Mike spat so clearly in response haunted his nightmares for weeks. It eventually faded after Will forgave him and there were too many terrifying monsters to take up the slot, but the memory was akin to a lightbulb: it would flash straight through his eyes like a projector every damn time he walked through the garage.
"El's not stupid! It's not my fault you don't like girls."
Mike truly doesn't know how Will could ever stand the sight of him. This train of thought forced a revelation to dawn on Mike, though. If his theory was right and he actually was transported back, Mike could change anything. Mike could change… everything.
"You're absolutely right." the words left him before he could stop them, but despite Will's shocked expression he kept going. "I mean, not about El, El is definitely not some stupid girl. She's so much more than that and shouldn't be put in the 'girlfriend' box just because I can't grow up and let go. She's not like my property or anything, I don't know why I act like that." Mike was aware he was rambling, but everything was coming out and the point was being made.
"Mike…" Will's face carried a look of utter shock, and Mike was reminded once again how shitty he was back in '85. How shitty he stayed. He can see it underneath the twinges of irritation perked around his eyes, though: Will was impressed with him.
What a leap two years will do for you… and witnessing the murder/suicide/sacrifice of the two most important people to you.
"What you said about destroying everything? That was totally true and I deserve that. I'm selfishly focusing on myself and my issues when I need to get a dose of reality and look around the room. I mean," he's pacing now, great, "Lucas has his girl troubles too, but I think that's just an easy escape route. I really don't know where Dustin is right now, and I'm really scared for what he's stuck his nose into while we practically abandoned him. Then there's you…" Mike didn't know what look he was giving Will, but judging on the sharp intake of breath it had to have been effective.
"What-" Will's throat contorts as he swallows thickly, "what about me?"
"You… have been through so much, Will. And I'm not saying that because I pity you or think you need babying, far from it. You are one of the strongest and kindest people I know, and you don't deserve to be treated like this. Like— like a nuisance or a side quest. You're more than that and I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't be a kid again." Mike was aware he was talking so much he was out of breath, but he couldn't stop until he was sure Will wasn't going to run out into that rain like last time. He almost felt like Robin with his pacing and earnest speech, and unlike usual he felt a warm sensation settle in his chest. He really should be kinder to the girl this time around. Kinder to everyone.
"Mike, I- I don't- um…" Will was rendered speechless, which Mike understood. 1985 Mike Wheeler would rather cut his heart out and serve it on a platter to werewolves before he bore his heart out to his friends. He used to think it was weak, that despite being the heart he should show none of it. That being honest with his loved ones guaranteed a loss. 1987 Mike Wheeler thinks differently. He should feel a little guilty, but has to admit a flabbergasted Will was pretty cute.
That led to the second revelation to strike Mike. Will didn't like girls. Even now in '85, Will knew what he was. Whether he accepted it or not was still up in the air, but Mike knew he had a chance now. He wasn't going to be fucking Tammy again— never again— and he wasn't going to be from Mike either. He was going to be a great friend and an even better brother, hopefully a better boyfriend if Will would have him one day. Mike once thought the idea of dating a boy— loving a boy— was never in the cards for him. He couldn't possibly be the things him and Will were called at school. In public under peoples' breaths. At the dining room table. He loved El, and El loved him, and it was perfect.
Except El loved Max, and Mike couldn't bear to love anyone but Will.
Mike Wheeler used to think even holding Will's gaze would expose every ugly truth he'd yet to face himself. He thought Will would despise him for who he truly was and he would lose his person, his Will. But the reality of Will's dead body in his arms far outweighed the fear of his hand with Will's. It was time Mike stopped being so goddamn scared.
It was a risk, but he couldn't think about the consequences of his actions right now. He grabbed for Will's hand that was balled up by his side and gently uncurled it. If Will was looking at him weirdly he didn't notice, the warmth of his hand and the pulse thrumming steadily was all he was paying attention to. Will was alive, he was here and he didn't hate him for saying something he never meant. He was alive and he didn't have the weight of the world on his shoulders yet. He was alive and he wasn't sacrificing himself for a world that was so hard on him.
Mike felt his shoulders hitch up, a quiver in his frame as his eyes welled up with tears. He thought he was done with this, but no amount of tears could ever sum up the pain he felt of Will's death.
"Mike? Hey, what's wrong?"
Mike didn't trust his voice to respond without cracking. He simply pulled on the hand he was still holding until his arms were wrapped tight around Will. He burrowed his face into the boy's neck, feeling him tense for long enough he almost pulled back. Will didn't let him though. He hesitantly wrapped his arms to reciprocate the hug and it was the greatest feeling in Mike's life.
"I'm really glad you're here." he whispered against Will's neck.
"… Me too."
Mike finally pulled away, his eyes a little wet but he didn't care as he stared into the hazel eyes he'd grown to adore. Those same eyes that looked just as wet as his. It made him exhale a laugh that could've been interpreted as a cry to a blind person. Will soon joined in on the laughter, until there were bright genuine smiles on their faces. The rain and the clouds and the grey couldn't bring this down. It was as if they created an echo of light that reverberated off them, and Mike found the moment heavenly.
"Are you guys okay?" Lucas' voice chimed through their fog, and both boys whipped their heads to face the teen. The presence of another made them very aware of the heat radiating off of the other hand, still connected between them. If Mike had been younger and naive, he would have pulled his hand away immediately. He would have been too scared at the prospect of anyone seeing him in that light. Mike knew now, though, that no one would shun him for his preferences. The way Lucas had looked genuinely happy for Will when he came out, the way his shoulders seemed to sag and relax in a way he probably didn't even know he held them. Lucas cared for his friends so passionately even if he didn't outwardly express it. It made Mike appreciate him in a whole new light, and he intended to show the boy with his newfound chance.
So, rather than rip his hand away from Will's, he squeezed it gently and released while nodding to Lucas. "Yeah, we're good dude."
"Okay… let's go back downstairs then." he stared at them weirdly before turning to return to the basement. Mike spared a glance at Will, and he's glad he did. He might not have been aware he was doing it, but Will looked almost bashful as he held his head down out of Mike's full sight. Mike could still spot a little smile peak through however, and it made him bump his shoulder against the other's.
"C'mon. Stay. We'll finish your campaign." Mike tried to reciprocate the smile, but his words seemed to have the opposite effect. The reminder of why they were in the garage in the first place had Will's smile slipping, recalling why he was previously upset in the first place. The way Mike and Lucas blew him off and seemingly didn't care about what he wanted to do anymore. The way everyone was having relationship strifes, but all Will wanted to do was enjoy his childhood a little longer.
I really am such a shit friend.
"Will, I'm not saying this to throw pity points at you, 'cause I know how much you hate that," Mike started, saddened by Will's surprised expression, "but I'm sorry. I was being a jerk and you're one of my best— actually, scratch that, you are more than that to me. You're not just my best friend, you're…" he swore he had the words in his head, but they seemed to fizzle out too quickly.
"I'm… what?" Will muttered, seemingly scared from the response he might get. Mike hated that he made Will feel like that. That he would even assume Mike could think anything negative about him.
"Everything." Mike whispered, but those words weren't meant to slip out. Not yet. His mouth betrayed him, speaking his inner desires before he was meant to.
Mike realized he had a second chance, but he needed to be smart about it. There was a certain way '85 Mike Wheeler acted, and though he was going to rectify a lot of his actions, some things had to wait. Physical moves were one any Mike Wheeler would opt for. He always preferred expressing himself with his actions more than his words. Will always deserved more this time, he knew that, but it was too early. In this time period, quite literally 10 minutes ago Mike was the shittiest person alive. Going from being up El's ass for months and abandoning Will to the point of him biking in a rain storm, to admitting Will was his everything? Yeah, too much. If there was anything going to get him caught, it was his damn mouth.
Will's giggles ripped him from his thoughts, resorting to stare at him owlishly as his giggles became little snorts from lack of air. Mike felt a wide smile stretch his face, and he knew he was whipped.
He's so fucking cute.
"What?" Mike asked defensively, trying to put on a show as he shoved the other teen playfully before walking for the basement.
"No no, Mike, I just-" another snort left Will as he tried covering his mouth with one hand while the other gripped his stomach. "You can't just say that out of nowhere!"
"Well good, I'm never saying it again seeing as that's how you react to me pouring my heart out to you." Mike mumbled, fighting not to stall his pace and stare at the other's pure joy. Despite why it was there, he was happy he put it there. It felt like a nice change of pace compared to the usual frowns and arguments.
"Okay, Michael. That's a little dramatic." Will huffed, but his smile was evident in his tone alone. Gauging the volume of his voice, Mike knew Will was still following him.
Thank God. No more rain fiasco.
"What are you two giggling about?" Lucas asked suspiciously when they made it down the stairs.
"Who's we, it's just Will making fun of me." Mike huffed, flopping down on the couch. He remembered faintly that he would have been moping on this couch only hours before, stressing himself hairless because of girls. The fact that their lives were so carefree at this point that they could even stop to complain about such trivial ideas blew his mind. He honestly wished he had been transported back to a few days before this, when all they were scared of was getting caught sneaking into the movie theater without paying. It was so much easier then, but of course he had to get put right at the moment when shit hits the fan.
"Yeah, okay Mike, you wanna tell Lucas what you just said to me?" Will teased.
"Excuse you, sorry for trying to be honest. Now that I've seen how you react, I'll just keep my mouth shut next time." he stubbornly folded his arms, making a point to look anywhere but them. Both Will and Lucas began laughing again at his theatrics.
"Y'know, it's no wonder you're our DM." Lucas chuckled, setting off a whole new set of giggles from Will.
"Watch it Sinclair, or a certain ranger is gonna find himself facing a Thessalhydra by himself." Mike hissed out, seemingly satisfied with his threat as Lucas' laughter was cut abruptly.
"That's harsh, Mike." Will winced, glancing at Lucas with sympathy. Said boy looked up quickly like he had some sort of epiphany.
"Wait wait wait wait! Why am I getting punished and Will isn't?! He's the one that laughed at you first!" Lucas demanded, hands animated as he made the hypocrisy of the situation evident.
Mike shrugged, indifferent to the boy's suffering. "Will's my favorite. Besides, A paladin with no wizard is a guaranteed loss." Mike rolled his eyes, but he knew he said too much again.
This is going to be a problem…
Will and Lucas shared a look, one Mike didn't fight to decipher. Will looked like he would start speaking again when his mouth shut tight and his eyes were blown wide. His right hand reached for his neck, and Mike knew it was happening now.
"Will? Will, what's wrong?" Lucas was at his side faster than Mike, and Mike tried to match his energy to seem as clueless as him. He remembered the way Will had turned to look at them that day, rain seeping down into the bone and eyes trained on nothing and yet everything all at once. He gave that same haunted look as the year prior, those moments when he spaced out and could feel nothing but the Upside Down underneath his skin, but he held a determined look as well. A look that told them he had been suspicious for a while and only needed one more confirmation.
"Will?" he tried, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. Will snapped out of it, looking back at him and Lucas before finally settling on the space between them.
"It's him. He's back."
Ergo— shit has hit the fan.