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Will toes at a clump of grass as Mike ramble about something, probably his new special interest. Will smiles up at him, admiring the way his hair falls in the way of those big and curious eyes. One thing he's noticed about Mike in the past two years he's known him, is that he uses his hands a lot when he talks. The party often has to avoid getting hit while listening to their friend talks, but Will finds himself not minding. In fact, he finds it adorable how involved Mike can get in his conversation. If he could even call it a conversation, Will hasn't said anything in the past fifteen minutes. But he doesn't want to, he's always been more of a listener than a talker, and Will wants to listen to Mike's voice.
They continue walking down the concrete, Mike occasionally stopping his footsteps to make sure Will is still with him. As they near his house, Will can feel dread building up in his stomach. Dread that makes him want to throw up. His steps falter and he has to mentally remind himself to keep walking, ignoring the questioning look from his best friend.
"Sore feet." Will says as an excuse, and Mike nods, because everyone knows that Will's shoes are entirely too big for him. They were Jonathan's, after all. At this point his feet were covered in mismatched bandaids, trying to stop the rubbing against the shoes and the forming of blisters. Mike walked a bit slower, not wanting to put Will in any more pain than he already was.
While walking, Will's eyes trailed to Mike's. His best friend's eyes had always annoyed him, mostly because they always seemed to shift in colour. One day, they would be the richest caramel anyone had ever seen, and the next, almost as black as ink. This made it very hard for Will to draw, and he would spend hours on end at the dining table, trying to find the perfect colour to match. Joyce often asked who he was drawing for, and his response was always, "Mike. And it has to be perfect, because it's Mike." His mother would smile and nod, kissing his head and then reminding him to eat something.
Will is brought out of his thoughts when Mike taps his cheek to get his attention. "Will? You with me?"
Will smiles sheepishly and nods, feeling a bit bad for zoning out on his friend. "Yeah, sorry. Just thinking. What were you saying?"
Mike gives Will and analysing look, like he's trying to read his mind. Anyone else might feel self conscious, but Will is completely and utterly at ease with Mike. His best friend gives him one last look before flashing that brilliant smile of his, the one that always makes Will melt, and continues talking.
"I was just talking about the new campaign, and I think it would be really awesome if we had pirates. I mean, can you imagine that? There would be so many opportunities! What do you think?" Mike turns to Will for validation, his smile becoming nervous.
A light pink dusts Will's cheeks from the sudden attention, though he really should be used to it by now. He rests his hand on Mike's arm gently, beaming up at him. "Pirates sound great. And I can draw the party as pirates, as well!" He's suddenly excited at the prospect of having a new purpose to draw, and he grabs Mike's wrist, hauling him along the path. "Come on, come on!"
Mike giggles, a sound that's so cute it makes Will want to explode, and protests. "Slow down! I'm gonna trip over-"
And that's when they arrive at the Byers' house.
Normally, Will would drag him inside to be greeted by Joyce and lemonade, and the boys would talk and play all afternoon, until eventually Mike had to go home.
But this time, Will stills.
There's a car in the driveway, and it's not his mum's.
Will swallows, taking a shaky breath. Dad- Lonnie, he mentally corrects himself, hasn't been home for days. Why does he have to be now, of all times?
Mike lets out a soft "oof" as he crashes into Will from behind, and he places his hands on his best friend's shoulders. "Will? Everything okay?"
Will's about to answer when from inside, a male voice shouts an insult somewhere along the lines of "stupid bitch!", and the sound of glass shattering echoes in the silence.
Will is suddenly overcome by a fear, a fear so big that it freezes his body. Panic overtakes his being overriding any of his other senses. All he wants to do is turn heel and run. Except, he's stuck, and he's stuck as his eyes fill with tears, and he's stuck when his body begins to shake, and he's stuck when-
But then somebody grabs his hand.
And the touch is so gentle, so soft, that his body immediately relaxes. Mike pushes a piece of hair off his best friend's face and smiles reassuringly, trying his best to comfort the other.
Looking around for anything that might distract Will from what's happening inside, his eyes land on a big stick. With some effort, he manages to pick it up with one hand and wave it around like a sword.
"Do you wanna go play pirates? I bet it'd help with ideas for the campaign!" He says, mustering as much enthusiasm he has into his voice.
Will chuckles wetly, wiping his eyes with one hand. This is exactly why he loves Mike. "Yeah, that sounds fun."
With a massive grin, Mike intertwines his fingers with Will's and starts to drag him in the direction of Castle Byers.
"Come on, Wilby! I bet I can beat you there!"
Will stops, drops Mike's hand, and turns to his best friend with a glint in his eyes (though that may be his tears). "You're on." And with that, he's running through the woods, not caring about the leaves and branches whipping him on the way.
Mike watches him go, his heart sinking with some sort of determination. No one will hurt Will, not while he's there.