Work Text:
December 1988
All was well, in the simplest of ways.
With Vecna gone, they finally won. Truly won. With El getting her powers back completely, she had taken him and the Upside Down out once and for all. Freeing them all from the horrors that had stolen away their childhoods, that stole away their lives, their sense of safety. They'd beaten the one who took everything from them, it was done.
He should’ve been happy, he knew he should’ve. He should’ve been ecstatic that the monster who stole the better half of his childhood was finally gone.
But he just wasn’t. Couldn’t be, really.
All of his friends were crowded together in the Wheelers basement, laughing and celebrating the end of the end of the world. Their so-called victory. Their smiles bright and voices light, the weight lifted off of their shoulders for the first time in five years.
And Will couldn't fucking breathe.
He couldn't think or move or do a single goddamn thing because while he should've been happy, he's wasn't. Because the weight on his chest had never felt heavier and his mind was far from clear. His hands were shaking at his sides, eyes glassy as he snuck up the stairs and past where all of the adults have congregated in the living room. He heard them talking, voices light and carefree.
He didn't process a single word, he couldn't if he tried.
He was being unreasonable, he knew it. He should've been happy, grateful for every person still standing in this house. Happy they all made it out.
But they didn't, did they? Not really.
No, so many lives were lost. So many people were dead and here he was, celebrating? Acting as if they were truly triumphant when so many people didn't get to go home? Daughters and sons lost, friends and family dead for no real reason? What right did he have to sit in the Wheeler's basement and toast some bullshit 'we won' speech over cheap beer they had managed to snag from Ted Wheelers stash?
He snuck up the main stairs without so much as a word, silently slipping into the bathroom before sitting on the edge of the bathtub, his fist pressing into his teeth as he tried to catch his breath. Clear his mind, something.
Anything.
He hated this, hated it with everything he had. He should’ve been downstairs with everyone else, celebrating with everyone else. Not holed up in the bathroom trying to stave off what he knew was the beginnings of a panic attack.
It was such bullshit.
He gripped the porcelain in his free hand, a hollow breath falling from his lips as he ignored the sting of his eyes. He was so goddamn selfish, hiding away while his friends and family were just trying to enjoy the first bit of safety they could get. A little normalcy after the fucking apocalypse.
But no, Will's mind had wandered when Steve made a toast with the words, "we all made it". His stomach dropping, twisting sickly in his gut the moment he heard those words.
Because it was a fucking lie.
They didn't all make it. They didn't. How was he supposed to just forget everyone who died because of him? He was the catalyst for most, direct cause for others, yet everyone moved on as if he wasn't part of the problem. As if he were completely innocent. As if everything was okay now. As if he deserved to be there.
As if they all made it out.
The bathroom suddenly began to feel much too small, the walls collapsing in on him. He climbed into the tub, sliding open the window before climbing up onto the roof, the bitter cold of the December air biting into his bare arms and face.
He could hardly feel a thing, anyway.
Settling on the roof, he pulled his knees to his chest as he gazed up at the setting sun. His eyes burned, though he couldn't tell if it was from the freezing wind that blew in his face or from the bone deep guilt wracking his body.
Maybe he'd prefer not to know, just this time.
Resting his cheek on his knees, he watched the sun inch closer to the horizon and for just a moment, he felt peaceful. The air came to his lungs just a little easier, his chest expanding as his eyes slid shut for a breath.
The memories swarmed back then, clouding his mind once again as he peeled his eyes open. Memories that were long forgotten, hidden under a paperweight made up of Vecna’s influence. A blessing so elegantly disguised as a curse, the blessing of ignorance. Of not knowing second-hand the pain and suffering he had caused.
A blessing as dead as Vecna himself.
He let out a shaky breath, his fists clenched at his sides, scraping against the rough shingles beneath him. He wondered if he meant to do it, if in one last act of ruining any semblance of peace and acceptance in Will's life, he decided to unleash every bit of horrific memories he'd been so goddamn lucky to block out.
Now he was stuck with them, vivid as ever, replaying in his mind on some sick loop.
It started the night Vecna was killed just a little over two weeks ago, what was supposed to the most secure and safe he'd felt going to sleep in years ended with him waking up screaming, inconsolable as his mom had burst into the room, wary yet endlessly concerned. The aftermath of the battle still heavy in her bones as she held her broken child. As he clawed and grasped at his throat and chest.
Clawing at his throat as if the vine had still latched onto him - inside of him, as if it were possible for him to have any recollection of it. Desperately gasping for each breath as if he had just been resuscitated again. Feeling as if his heart was beating once more after completely stopping.
The next night, grabbing his chest screaming in pure agony as if he were the one mauled by a Demodog and not Bob.
He didn't understand why he was remembering it, he knew he was unconscious during the whole tragedy. Both traumatic events, really. Through Bob's death, through his moms grief. Through Hopper pumping his chest to bring him back, through the snapping of his own ribs. He wasn't there. Not where it mattered, anyway.
Yet still, Bob’s screams of pain filled his head and plagued his every waking second. He saw the blood, the gore, every single thing that he never actually saw. He saw himself, vine latched around his mouth and down his throat, then his lifeless body on the floor of the library. He heard his mom begging him to come back as she sobbed and grieved him, the feeling of his ribs cracking under the pressure of Hopper's compressions and how he punched his chest, all rushing back to him and leaving him feeling an indescribable amount of dread. Insurmountable misery filling his very core.
Throughout the next few nights, more and more memories surfaced. The soldiers he betrayed, the scientists whose blood was on his hands, and Hopper...
Fucking Hopper, who was as good as dead in the tunnels because of him.
Will stared off at the sunset, his mind plagued with thoughts of all the people dead because of him. Of choking his mother before they could get the Mind Flayer out of him. The look in her eyes when she saw him, strapped to the bed and too far gone to be considered himself. Nancy burning him with the metal rod, the scar a never ending reminder that it was real. Too real.
He thought back to Barb's voice, screaming in the Upside Down whilst he hid away like a coward. He hoped she knew just how much he wanted to help, how scared and powerless he felt. The memory was once faded, blocked out from the weight of other traumatic memories piled on top, not any longer as her screams echoed in his mind. He had liked her when he was younger. When he'd come over for playdates and sleepovers with Mike, she'd be there with Nancy. She'd talk to him occasionally, usually small talk as they waited for the Wheeler siblings to come downstairs for their respective hangouts. Sometimes she'd compliment his drawings he had with him, others she'd ask how his mom and brother were. She was quiet like him, kind and smart. She seemed like she had such a bright future ahead of her, like she'd do something that really mattered.
But now she was dead and he wasn't, and how was that fair? She died alone and terrified, while he got to go home. Her parents lost a daughter, Nancy lost her best friend meanwhile Will got to go home and forget about it all. How could Nancy even look at him anymore?
How could anyone?
He swallowed, his arms sliding down from the tops of his knees to around his legs as he hugged himself tightly, the sound of the window sliding open behind him before being shutting gently pulled him from his thoughts. He stared off in front of him, not willing to see who might've followed him.
Warmth engulfed him as a large winter coat was wrapped around his shoulders, a gentle pat on each one.
"Mind some company?"
Will looked over to see Mike offering him a hesitant smile before nodding, turning his attention back to the sunset. The sky was exploding with pinks and purples, mixing into a soft orange horizon.
"Nice view, can't say I've been on this side of the roof before." Mike broke the silence, settling beside him. Their sides were flush, not even a centimeter separated them. Will hadn't noticed how cold he was until Mikes body heat warmed him enough to stop his shivering.
When did he start shivering?
"Most people don't climb out of their bathroom windows to sit on their roof." Will glanced at him, the taller boy snorting softly.
"Well, we never were like most people though, huh?" He nudged him, the ghost of a smile on his face.
"Yeah, guess not." Will shifted his gaze back to the sunset, watching as the sun was steadily slipping beyond the horizon. The first hint of stars were peeking through if he turned his head the other way, the sky filling with an inky hue.
"So, what're you doing up here?" Mike asked, dipping his head down to try and catch his eye. "Besides soaking in the great view and thrill of sneaking out of parties through bathroom windows, of course." His joking tone fell flat when pitted against the concern on his face.
"I didn't mean to come up here." Will admitted, his gaze bouncing between the sky and Mikes knees. "I had a lot on my mind and needed some air. I didn't want to bother anyone downstairs, so..." he gestured halfheartedly, "roof."
Mike was quiet for a moment, the press of their shoulders being the only thing letting Will know he hadn't just up and left. He felt himself beginning to panic again, static filling his brain as he stared off into the kaleidoscope skies. He was being such a baby! Running away because what? He's a little upset over something that doesn't even matter anymore? Mike doesn't want to hear about that, Mike doesn't-
"What's on your mind?" He asked after a while, interrupting his thoughts as his gaze stuck onto Will with such attentiveness he felt vaguely uncomfortable.
He didn't deserve Mike's attention, not after everything he'd done.
"I don't know," Will sighed, finally looking up to meet Mikes eyes. "It's nothing, Mike. You should be celebrating with everyone down there. That's important, not...not me, not right now."
"You're more important than a stupid party, Will." Mike responded immediately, his brows furrowed with downturned lips. He watched him for a moment, Mike's face becoming increasingly concerned as the seconds passed. He hated being the cause of it, he hated a lot of things these days.
"That's not what I meant." He sighed, resting his head on his knees.
"Will, come on." Mike sighed, knocking their knees together as he looked at him with those goddamn puppy eyes. "What's up? What's going on?"
Of course he saw right through him. Will couldn't hide a damn thing from him, not when Mike was the most perceptive person when it came to any negative feeling he happened to be feeling. Thankfully he was also oblivious, because, well...
"Mike, you don't have to worry about me. I'm just — sorting through some things, I'll be fine." He tried to offer him a comforting smile, though the slight trembling of his lower lip quickly gave him away. "You should go back downstairs, they'll notice you're gone."
Mike watched him for a moment, his head tilted to the side as his dark eyes searched his own. He felt small under his stare, as if he were nothing but his scrawny twelve year old self and not the nearly eighteen year old he had grown to be.
Will shifted uncomfortably, his eyes falling to the shingles below his feet as he felt Mike stand up beside him. He tightened his arms around his legs, staring off at the rapidly descending sun as he waited for the telltale sound of the bathroom window opening and shutting once more, a sign of the lonesomeness he begged for, yet loathed within every inch of himself.
It never came.
Will hesitated before looking back at Mike, who was standing beside him with a hand outstretched.
"Alright, come on," He grinned a little, his eyebrows raised as he wiggled his hand a little. "This party's boring anyway, I know a better place."
"A better place?" Will glanced at his hand warily before back up to his face. "Where?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out," Mike wiggled his hand again. "Or — I can sit up on this roof and bug you all night?"
"You're not—" Will huffed half a laugh, rolling his eyes. "You're not bugging me."
"Okay, then let me not bug you somewhere else. Preferably where we won't have to be scarred for life if someone has to take a sh-"
"Fine!" Will interrupted him, grabbing his hand and pulling himself up. "God, you're so gross sometimes."
"Well, you went into the bathroom without locking the door, which is like the number one rule of...bathrooms." Mike looked over his shoulder, hand still clasping Will's own as he carefully descended the roof.
"And apparently you barge into bathrooms without knocking." Will countered, glancing down at their hands as he tried desperately to school his expression. "What does that say about you, Mr. Rulemaker?"
Leave it to Mike to pull him out of his initial panic only to shove him right into a different, lighter kind of panic.
"Hey, I knocked! You were just out on the roof and couldn't hear me." Mike snorted, shuffling his feet towards the edge. "Now, c'mon, it's not that far of a drop."
What?
"We are not jumping off of your roof." Will's head snapped up to look at him, his eyes wide. “Are you insane?”
Mike had dragged him to the edge of the roof, looking at him over his shoulder like he was the crazy one.
"Why not? Steve did." Mike turned, still not pulling his hand away as it clutched Wills. "It's not that high."
"...Steve jumped off your roof?" Will blinked, wracking his brain for a reason as to why Steve Harrington, of all people, was jumping off of the Wheelers roof.
"Oh, right, you weren't here for that." Mike replied sheepishly, turning back to the edge. "He was sneaking into Nancy's window, had to get out somehow before our parents found him."
"Gross."
"Yeah, well, now your brother does so-"
"That's worse, Mike."
"What? You don't think climbing through windows to see your girlfriend is romantic?" Mike snorts, glancing over his shoulder with a little grin.
"No, I think it's creepy." He willed himself to not think of Mike sneaking in through his window and how decidedly not creepy he found it.
"Uh huh, and sitting outside of bathroom windows at parties is...?" Mike raised his eyebrows, a teasing smile on his lips. The bastard.
"Okay, just shut up and jump." Will took his hand back, going to the very edge. He saw Mike eyes widen a little as he prepared to jump.
"Wait, stop!"
Will turned, his eyebrow raised. "Don't tell me you're backing out now."
"No! No, just let me go first." Mike grabbed his sleeve, pulling him back a bit.
"Why?" Will looked at him with a confused tilt of the head.
"Uh, it's polite?" Mike answered lamely.
"When are you ever polite?" He huffed a laugh, watching Mike sputter.
"Right now! Shut up and stand back." Mike grumbled, scowling at the other boy.
"You're ridiculous." Will rolled his eyes, watching as Mike lowered himself down and dangled his feet over the edge. "Seriously, though. Where are we going?"
"Ever heard of a surprise, Byers? You're kind of ruining it." Mike turned to look at him over his shoulder, rolling his eyes.
"I think I'm good on surprises for a lifetime, Mike." He shot him a deadpanned look.
"Good surprise, Will." The taller boy sighed, crossing his arms. "You act like I'm taking you out to the woods to try and murder you or something."
"Wouldn't be the first time someone took me to the woods to try and murder me." Will quipped, causing the other boy to whip around at an almost alarming speed considering he was on the edge of the roof.
"That's not funny!" Mike pointed at him, Will stifling a laugh. "Stop laughing!"
"Come on, it's a little funny."
Will watched as Mike grumbled to himself before pushing off the roof and jumping to the ground. He stumbled just a bit, but surprisingly stayed on his feet. After regaining his balance, Mike held out his arms and looked up at him expectantly, his eyebrows raised.
"Well, are you coming?" He asked, feigning impatience. Will knew what Mike looked like when he was impatient, huffy and petulant. The smile tugging at his lips gave him away immediately.
"You're joking, right?" Will let out a disbelieving laugh. "I'll crush you, Mike."
"What—? You won't crush me! Just come on before someone catches us!"
Will sighed, lowering himself down to sit on the edge of the roof. "Don't catch me."
"I'm not going to let you just fall, Will." Mike rolled his eyes, his arms still outstretched and fingers now wiggling impatiently. "Just jump, man!"
"Oh my god." He groaned before pushing off, falling directly on the other boy and knocking him to the ground ass first, a strangled groan coming from underneath him.
"Damn, when did you get so heavy?"
"Are you calling me fat?"
"What? No! You're not! I just, you're just, you-"
"I'm kidding." Will snorted, poking his shoulder with a tiny grin. "And, I told you so."
"Oh, screw you." Mike's face was bright red, his eyes anywhere but Will. He was definitely embarrassed because he knocked him down. Why else would he be blushing like that?
"Uh huh, yeah, you're just mad because I was right." Will rolled off of him, unable to bite back the grin pulling at his lips as he turned his head to look at the other boy. "Admit it, Wheeler, you're crushed."
Mike turned his head and stared at him for a moment, his eyes softening as the furious blush died down to a light pink dusting across his cheeks that seemed to glow in the rapidly dying sunlight. "Yeah, Byers," He finally said, sitting up as his eyes fell to his lap. "You’ve got me there."
The silence stretch on for a moment, the cold December ground sending chills through where his body laid on the dying grass. He watched as Mike stood up, offering a hand to him with a strange look on his face. He was backlit by the sunset, the pink, purple, and blue mixing together to create a beautiful glow behind him.
He was ethereal.
"Will?" Mike looked almost amused now, his hand still outstretched while Will stared at him like a creep.
"Right, sorry. The, uh, sunset is really pretty. Got distracted." Will grabbed his hand, pulling himself up.
Mike glanced back, his smile a little wider. "Yeah, the sunset." His cheeks were almost red now, most likely from the cold, though Will really didn't like how he said ‘sunset’ like he knew something Will didn't.
Or that he knew exactly what Will knew, he didn't know which was worse.
Okay, he knew which was worse.
"You can stare at the sunset all you want on the way." Mike threw an arm around him, "Come on, my bike's over here."
Will let himself be steered towards the garage, watching as Mike grabbed his bike from where it was leaning against the wall.
"Jonathan drove us here, I don't have mine." Will stuffed his hands in his pockets, kicking at a small piece of gravel that had made its way onto the pavement. "I can walk though, I know you wanted it to be a surprise but if you just tell me where to go I can meet you there and-"
"Dude, just get on." Mike cut him off, patting the back of the bike with a glint in his eye that Will really did not want to read into. "I'm not making you walk."
"But-"
"Will, I don't have cooties, you can ride with me." Mike smirked a little, his eyebrows raised expectantly.
He was losing the upper hand in whatever one-sided game they were playing and he really didn't like it. He just wanted to have his breakdown on the roof, not have yet another crisis in the Wheelers garage.
"Cross my heart." Mike added, his smile only widening as Will — unfortunately — got caught up in staring again.
"Shut up." Will muttered, climbing on the back of the bike and grasping onto the seat with every bit of strength he had.
They didn't move.
After a moment, Mike sighed before turning to look at him. "You're gonna fall off if you don't hold onto me."
"We aren't even moving yet." Will argued, his hands still glued to the seat.
"Will," The amusement left Mike's face, an earnest look shining in his eyes as he reached down and grabbed his hands off the seat. "I've got you, okay? Just hang on." He said softly, turning around before reaching back to gently place Will's hands on his sides. "It's a short ride, we'll be okay."
Easy for him to say, Will's gone through all five stages of grief on a continuous loop for the past two hours.
For five years, but who's keeping count anymore?
"Okay." Will said softly, letting himself hang onto his best friend as he kicked up the kickstand and pedaled out of the driveway.
"Close your eyes!" Mike called back, glancing over his shoulder with a grin.
"You said I could look at the sunset on the way!" He argued, shutting his eyes anyway. He snuck a peek only to find Mike smirking at him.
"I'm trusting the honor system here, Byer's. Don't fail me now!" He said as if Will couldn't walk barefoot on hot coals the whole way if he asked him to.
Unfair was one word for it, pathetic and hopeless seemed more appropriate for how he felt as he shut his eyes and let his chin rest on Mike's shoulder.
He's had a shitty couple of weeks, he'd take what he could.
Whatever, sue him.
"Fine, but you better not crash this time." He muttered, leaning his head fully into Mike's neck. For warmth, obviously.
"That was like ten years ago, dude! And you're the one who sneezed and scared me!" Mike chuckled a little, leaning his head against Will's ever so gently. Will chuckled a little, relishing in the closeness as they fell into a comfortable silence, just the sound of the wind filling his ears.
"Almost there, just keep them closed." He said softly into the cool air, his hair blowing back into his face just a little. He couldn't bring himself to mind, his head spinning while his stomach flipped and fluttered. It was almost enough to feel okay for a moment, something he knew wouldn't last for long.
It couldn't have been longer than five minutes before Mike's wheels skidded to a stop, his head lifting off of Will's own as he climbed off the bike.
"Keep your eyes closed, okay?" Mike said quickly, kicking down the kickstand and grabbing Will's hands. "Here, lift up your leg and I'll guide you."
"I'm starting to think this really is a ruse to get me into the woods to kill me." Will said as Mike snorted, his arm snaking around his shoulders to cover his eyes while his other hand stayed firmly in Will's. Breathing was overrated anyways, no better way to die than of asphyxiation two weeks after surviving the apocalypse.
"Come on, I'm more original than that. Besides, out of the two of us, you're more likely to kill me, Mr. Gun-Slinger." Mike chuckled in his ear and oh god, he could probably hear how loud his heart was beating.
This was not flirting. It wasn't! Mike was just being...well, Mike. He said stupid stuff all the time. This was absolutely, in no way, any different.
God, his face was burning.
"I don't carry the gun on me anymore, dumbass." Will snorted, biting back a smile as Mike squeezed his hand.
"I'd hope not, then I'd really get worried for my safety." Mike said, amusement clouding his tone despite literally talking about Will murdering him. As if Will ever liked killing monsters, let alone his childhood best friend.
He was such a weird guy, god he loved him.
"I think you're forgetting who is kidnapping who here." Will joked as they came to a halt. "Can I open my eyes yet?"
"First of all, you agreed to come so, legally, I'm not kidnapping you — probably." Mike huffed a laugh as he dropped his hand from Will's eyes, his other hand staying firmly grasped in Will's. "Second, yes, you can open your eyes."
Slowly, Will opened his eyes, blinking into focus as he processed his surroundings. The sun was almost gone behind the horizon, leaving everything bathed in a soft orange glow. His eyes widened as he fully realized just where he was.
Hawkins Elementary glowed in the dying evening sun, the swings illuminated in front of him as he dropped Mikes hand, reaching out to touch the chain. He turned to look at Mike, who moved to sit on the swing. He met his gaze, an unreadable expression on his face as his lips held a gentle smile.
He sat down beside him, the old swing set groaning under his weight.
"Mike," Wills voice was soft now as he tilted his head to look over at the other boy, his feet just barely dangling about the ground from where he sat on the swing. "Why'd you bring me here? I mean, why here?"
Mike was quiet for a moment, an almost bashful expression on his face as his hands hooked together in his lap.
"You had that, that look on your face tonight. The one where you're so in your head that you're losing yourself. It's the one you get a lot when you're thinking about him, about Vecna and the Upside Down." Mike spoke quietly, his eyes on the snow sodden mulch beneath his feet as his hands picked at a thread on the hem of his shirt. "I just thought, even if he's dead and he can't hurt you anymore, that a good memory might help you feel better. Or safer, I guess. Like hiding in the light? Or remembering the good? It's stupid, I know, and Max would probably call me presumptuous or some shit for thinking meeting me was such a good memory and-"
"It's not stupid!" Will interrupted quickly, he felt his face flush as he repeated. "It's — it's not stupid, Mike. You're right, I have been thinking about it a lot."
Mike tilted his head a bit, his eyes finding Will's own again. "Is that what you were upset about today? Why you were on the roof, I mean."
Mike already knew the answer, he could see it in the way his lips pulled downward into a concerned frown. The way his body angled towards him, instead of facing forward, his eyes locked on his own as if he were trying to read him.
"Yeah," He admitted, tangling his fingers in his lap. "It's, um, it's a long story."
"I've got time." Mike replied almost immediately, any of the joking or teasing tones left his voice. His eyes never left his own, still searching and still no earnest it almost hurt. "I'm here for you, Will. As long as you need me, I'm here. And after too."
He hated how easily he'd give in with just a glance.
"I remember everything." He looked away, cursing himself for how vague he sounded. "Like, from when I was missing and when I was possessed. Everything Vecna saw, everything the Mind Flayer saw."
"Like true sight?" Mike watched him, his expression as grim as Will felt. A pang of guilt echoed in his chest, spreading through him like a cancer, growing and deadly.
"Kind of, but it's everything that's already happened. It's not spying it's just...it's like I'm being haunted or something." He admitted softly, his foot digging into the mulch below him. "Does that make sense?"
Mike's gaze fell from his own, landing somewhere between where the asphalt ends and mulch began. "Haunted..." He echoed softly, his voice just a whisper evaporating into the biting breeze. "But, he's dead, Will. We killed him."
He knew that, of course he did. He reminded himself of that fact every goddamn time he woke up with his hands around his own neck, pulling away at monsters that weren't even there. He knew it every time he looked in the mirror and saw his eyes, dull and tired, lined in reds and purples from lack of sleep and far too many tears.
He knew it, but god it didn't feel like it.
"I believe you."
He looked up to see Mike reaching for his hand, squeezing it gently as he met his gaze.
"I believe you." He repeated quietly, his eyes never straying from Will's.
He felt like crying again. He felt thirteen years old, sitting in the Wheeler's basement. Promises of going crazy together fresh on Mike's lips. Terrified in his bedroom, a warm hand on his own when his whole body felt frozen. He was twelve years old, Mike Wheelers head on his chest, proof he was alive. That he was still here.
He met Mike's eyes again, the same ones from all those years ago.
"You don't have to do this, you know?" He let his gaze settle on the darkened horizon, the sun a mere memory in the obsidian sky.
"Do what?"
The guilt crept in again, cold and dark in his chest. Mike deserved to move on from the horrors Will was tied to, the haunting he just couldn't shake. Mike didn't deserve to stay behind with him, he deserved to be free of the burden. To say, 'he's dead, we're not' and get over it already.
"Take care of me, whatever this is. I'm a lot, Mike. I'm not worth wasting all of your time on." He sighed, his arms tightening around himself.
"Will, I'll always take care of you." Mike said, like it was a sacred oath. Like it was obvious, like caring for him was as simple as breathing. As easy as living itself.
"It's impossible, Mike. It's impossible and pointless and stupid—"
"No. Not for me. Not when it's you." Mike reached out, taking his hand in his own. "Never when it's you."
"I'm not worth—"
"To me," Mike reached forward, a hand cupping his cheek and tilting his head to meet his eyes, "You are worth everything."
"Mike..."
"No," Mike shook his head, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. "I know what you're thinking. You think everything that happened is your fault, that what he made you do was on you, but it wasn't. There's no blood on your hands, Will. None of what happened was your fault."
"He wanted me, Mike. He wanted me and he killed so many people to get me. How is that not my fault?" The words burned his throat just as his eyes burned, salt laced trails making their way down his flushed cheeks. "Eddie, Barb, Bob, Max. Everyone who died o-or got hurt just because I..." He trailed off, his voice breaking as Mike's hand tightened around his own.
"They wouldn't blame you, they wouldn't." Mike searched his eyes, his voice gentle, soft. "Max has never once blamed you. Neither did anyone else. We blame Vecna. We blame Brenner. We blame all those assholes at the lab that started this. You were a kid, Will. How could any of this be your fault?"
It wasn't spoken harshly, no barbed edges around his words. He met those dark brown eyes, his words dying on his lips.
"You were a just kid." Mike repeated just above a whisper, his words filled with so much anguish like they physically pained him to say. They probably did.
Salt streamed from his eyes down to his chin as his head slipped onto Mike's shoulder, his arms shakily moving around his waist as Mike's own came up to hold him.
"I'm here," Mike murmured into his hair, his arms solid around him, he heard the unspoken words loud and clear as Mike held him closer. "I'm not going anywhere, I'm never going anywhere."
That was all he needed in that moment. Mike there, holding him together as he fell apart. Every sleepless night, every nightmare pooling out onto Mike's lap, rotten and twisted. And he took it, the weight of it all dissolving in mere presence of the light that was Mike Wheeler.
Will pulled away first, his face was surely a blotchy mess as he reached up shakily to cup Mike's cheek, the latter smiling softly against his palm.
"I'm here too." He said, watching as Mike's smile widened and he leaned forward to press their foreheads together. "I..."
"I know." Mike spoke gently, his eyes not once leaving his own. "I know."
No words were needed in that moment, just two boys sitting on the old swing set that marked the beginning of everything. The light was in his hands, it was the hesitant press of chapped lips to his own. It was the unspoken confession, not unacknowledged but understood. It was Mike Wheeler, the one who saw him, knew him, deep to the bone. The one who loved him not despite, but because. The one to taken what was rotten and make it right, turn it to something new. Something pure and worthy.
And so on the cold December night, with flakes of snow falling serendipitously around him, Will discovered his new light as he sat before him. An unspoken promise had settled between clasped hands and through the press of chilled lips. It was a long road to recovery, but he wasn't alone.
And he never would be.