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“Hey, Mom?”
“Oh, baby. What is it?”
“Look, um, earlier today, when you asked me what happened inside Vecna’s mind…
“I didn’t tell you everything.”
Will Byers might only be sixteen years old, but he knows at least a few things for certain — he knows malted milkshakes are dimensions better than regular, and that Holy Grail is maybe the funniest movie ever written, and that popcorn at the movies just isn’t as good without Milk Duds and extra butter, nor is Coke as good without Pop Rocks fizzling at the bottom, and that he always gets third place in party bike races, and that trading comics with the party is so much more fun than reading them alone, and that Lucky Charms are only good ‘cause of the marshmallows, and that he doesn’t like girls. And that he’s never, ever, ever going to like girls.
And he knows that he’s so fucking tired of being this afraid of himself. Of being a monster.
Will Byers has known he’s different since he’s known what the word different even means. In small-town Hawkins, Indiana, being different means boys call you names in the hallway ‘cause they’re scared of you, of people like you, and that teachers give you looks of pity, and that girls giggle behind their hands at you, and that people like Will don’t get happy endings like all his friends. People like Will get sick.
And apparently, people like Will get taken by inter-dimensional monsters to fulfill sick fantasies of villains who want to take over the world one by one by one. Apparently, hallway rumours had it years ago that Will was actually taken by somebody just as sick and twisted as he is deep down.
People like Will fall head over heels in love with their best friend knowing damn well there’s no alternate dimension where his feelings are requited, too. He’s known that for a long time - that people like Will don’t get to fall in love, not in the way Lucas or Max or Dustin or Mike or Jonathan or Mom do.
It’s maybe sort of always been there, he thinks. This secret being something innately evil lingering just beneath the surface of his psyche since forever, teetering on boiling over but never quite has the courage to, taunting him. Isolating him. Making him so different from all his friends in all the ways that shouldn’t have to matter.
Making him believe he’s different from all his friends, rather. ‘Cause Will knows all the things that do matter, the things that make them the same — Milk Duds and extra butter on popcorn and bicycle racing and fizzy Coke and Pop Rock sugar rushes — don’t seem to matter much when the stakes are nearing end-of-the-world levels of apocalyptic. They don’t matter when Vecna is holding a bleak future over Will’s head — a very real seeming one.
It’s not that Vecna can get into his head, it’s not. Vecna doesn’t lie. It’s that Will’s seen the news. It’s that Vecna’s visions, they’re not just visions. He’s heard the radio channels, he’s read the newspapers. He knows what happens to people like him. They get sick. God, these visions he saw, the ones Vecna made him see, they’re real, they’re so nauseatingly real.
People like him die just ‘cause of the way they are — some scary, lonely way they never chose to be. If Will could’ve chosen — if he had a say, ‘cause it doesn’t feel like he’s ever had a say in anything his whole entire life — he’d have chosen to be normal a hundred times over. Will never wanted to be like this. When you’re anything like Will Byers, when you’re a monster deep inside, being a monster and in love means you don’t really get to be in love at all, you just wallow in shame and fear and isolation until the world gives up on you.
God, love is so lonely, and the closet is even lonelier.
If it weren’t for the monsters — if it weren’t for Vecna and the Upside Down and the Abyss and the bullies at school and the gay-bashers that hit headlines weekly — maybe Will wouldn’t have to be so lonely. Maybe he wouldn’t have to live in fear of himself.
But he is. And he does. And Vecna’s horrifying visions he showed Will — of his friends and family rejecting him, of being sick and isolated and lost and killed just like all the others like him across America — won’t just go away if he tries not to think about it.
He’s tried.
It hasn’t gone away yet.
Vecna doesn’t lie. And Will is so goddamn scared of the bleak fucking truth.
“He turned my own mind against me. I was so powerless. That’s what he does, to weaken you. All the kids. He brings out every last little bit of pain inside of you to hold against you, make you let your guard down. So I fought back — I used… I used all these memories of when I was a kid like Robin told me to, when I wasn’t so scared all of the time, and I… siphoned those powers. But he… he showed me things, Mom.”
Joyce shakes her head. She talks like she’s telling the truth, but she’s not. “He lies. Whatever he showed you, it’s not real. He lies.”
Will can’t look at her. “No, Mom. Not about this. He knows…”
“He underestimates you, Will. He doesn’t think you’re strong, but you — you are strong, do you hear me?”
“No, you’re not hearing me. Just like Max saw inside his head, he… he sees everything inside mine. Every one of my memories, and thoughts, all my… fears. Secrets. He knows everything. It’s like I’m powerless inside my own head.”
Joyce grabs one of Will’s hands, limp on his lap. “You are my son, Will Byers. You are not powerless. You have walked through Hell. I need you to hear me.”
Something like humiliation flushes Will’s cheeks. “But Max says he’s afraid, too. He’s human too. And I know I can beat him if I just…”
“What, honey?”
Vecna can’t hurt him, not here.
Like a band-aid. “Just stop being so goddamn scared. You need to finally know the truth, Mom. I can’t… I’m still scared. And I can’t beat him if I’m scared. I can’t beat him if he still keeps this dangling over my head, ready to just—”
Bang. “Oh, uh, sorry. We all just heard from Hop, we were sent to come in for you guys. Says he’s fifteen out, so we should probably leave in… five, or… sorry, is everything okay in here?”
Fuck.
“Thanks, you two. We’ll be out in a minute,” Joyce nods, setting a hand over Will’s to calm his restless leg bouncing.
Mike and Jonathan both turn on their heels right before Will pops up with a shaky, “wait,” and then a softer, “I need you both to hear this, too. Please, just… before I chicken out, please,” as he pointedly stares at the checkerboard tiles beneath his feet.
Jonathan steps forward through the room towards Will first, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, guiding him back down to sit right next to him on the couch. A tether back to the real world — exactly why Will knows that although Vecna doesn’t lie, he doesn’t tell the truth, either. He doesn’t know Jonathan or Mike or Mom like Will does. Will knows Jonathan already knows — he’s known for years, and it’s too humiliating if he thinks about it for too long — but he needs his big brother. Mike follows suit — he sits across from Will, eye to eye, on the coffee table between Will and his mom. He’s got this puzzled, unreadable sort of expression on his face.
Will wants to chicken out so goddamn badly.
But he wants to beat out the fear for once just that much more.
Will rocks back and forth in his spot, fidgeting with his sweatshirt sleeves and wringing his hands. Joyce places a hand on top of them in some sweet attempt to soothe his worry. “What is it, honey? We’re all ears.”
Mike unhelpfully quips, “sorry, if this could, um, y’know… we’ve gotta go really soon, so…” to which Joyce and Jonathan share very pointedly glares at him above Will’s bowed head.
“I — I know, okay? I’ve — shit, I’ve tried saying this so… so many times, but I’ve never said it out loud before, so I just — I just… but… and I don’t think I ever even would if it weren’t for… for that son of a bitch, he just won’t get out of — of my head, I never wanted it to be like this, in all the millions of times I’ve thought about this… this moment, I just…”
Joyce trails with a small, “oh, Will, honey…”
The floodgates burst. “I don’t want any of you to see me any differently. Please. I’m… but I know I… the truth is… I am different. Even though I don’t want to be. I would’ve given anything to change it, to be like… like all my friends, just like you guys, even though it shouldn’t matter, and it’s so scary, I’ve been… I just… I’ve pretended to be like everybody else ‘cause I… hate myself for this. Or… I don’t know, I used to, as long as I can remember. It’s exactly what Vecna’s been using against me. It’s why I can’t… I know I have so much potential I can’t use until I… get over this stupid...”
“Will?” Jonathan tries.
Will swallows, and his breathing is getting laboured, shaky. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. He wants to chicken out pretending this doesn’t exist forever by burying himself into bed with the covers over his face and scream all his fears and darkest secrets from the Squawk radio tower all at once. You can’t hurt me anymore. But he can — Vecna still can. Not until he… “It’s so stupid, all of it, it shouldn’t matter, I’m just like everybody else, I just… I… I like all the same things as everybody else and there’s no reason to… to be afraid, and the world is probably ending outside these walls tonight but Vecna, he… I just… I just… I… I… don’t…”
“I don’t like girls.”
Just like that.
The room falls silent.
The world doesn’t end. Not yet, anyway.
The lights are still humming. The air is still thick and stiff and stuffy. Will’s fingers are still picking and drumming away. The world doesn’t end.
The world doesn’t end. Even if it feels like it should.
“Oh, baby,” Joyce whispers, bending over the empty space between her and her baby as she wraps her arms tight around his shoulders. “I have fought like Hell for you. There’s nothing — nothing — in this world that will change that. I always will,” she mutters into his hair. Will lets out this deep bellow of a sob, like it’s sixteen years worth of pain and agony and terror all coming out in one big breath. He clutches Joyce like a lifeline.
Jonathan rubs up and down his little brother’s back, knocking Will’s shaking knee with his own. Finally Joyce pulls away, keeping an arm tight around Will’s shoulders, and lets Jonathan embrace him, too. Another guttural, ugly sob escapes Will. It’s terrifying. Will still can’t look either — none — of them in the eyes.
“I thought — I thought for years it’d… it’d change,” he chokes, “I tried so hard. But it’s… I’m just, like, stuck like this, I just…”
Joyce threads a hand through Will’s hair. “You’re not stuck like anything,” she shakes her head. “You are exactly how I made you, baby. I would never change you, not a single thing.”
“Mom’s right,” Jonathan sighs. “Look, I know I haven’t been around, I get so caught up in my own shit, but I’ve always been proud as hell to have you as my little brother, Will. Freaks together, right? It’s part of being a Byers brother. We get to be freaks and we get to own it. You’ve gotta show that son of a bitch Vecna that you own this. I have people who love me. I’m not scared anymore, y’know?”
Will laughs this gut-wrenching, wet laugh and tucks his face into Jonathan’s shoulder. “I’ve hated myself for this for… for as long as I can remember.”
Mike finally sucks in a breath. “God, fuck,” he mutters. Will’s head shoots up, and Jonathan kicks Mike’s shin in warning. “No, not like — not like, uuugh, fuck, like, y’know, fuuuck, Will, I… I’m so… I’m just so sorry.”
“What do you —” Will sniffles, “you have nothing to be sorry for, I’m—”
“We’ve — no, Will, I’ve said some… awful shit to you, I’d have never…”
It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!
“I’d have never said it. I didn’t mean that. I made you hate yourself. Jesus. I had no… God. Fuck.”
Will’s voice is soft like a raspy, beaten whisper. “Look, I’ve thought about… about that day, Mike, God… so many times. So stupid. I was so scared of… of losing my childhood, losing the party. Losing you. You’re my —” Will chokes, squeezes his eyes shut like he’s in real pain. “You’re my best friend, Mike. And I was okay never telling you or anyone if it meant I could… keep you all. Or at least not ‘till I knew... but he… he stole this from me. Just like he stole my whole childhood. And my visions…”
Joyce sucks in a breath. “Your visions?”
“Vecna showed me… my future. What my future will look like for… for people like me. He made me feel like a monster for… for having feelings. Some future where I just… I tell everybody this and you all… you think I’m sick for being… the way I am, even though I didn’t choose it, I… I promise I’d change it if I could. And then I just… push everybody away. And I end up alone just like I’ve always thought I would, like I don’t… deserve... love. Not like everybody else does. Not a b—” Will stutters, bows his head, “not a… boyfriend, not my brother, not my party, my mom. Nobody. I… lose everyone. In every version.”
Joyce shakes her head, strong and steadfast. She keeps Will tethered here, right here. “You’re not a monster, baby. You will never lose me, Will. You’re not pushing me away, none of us. Not ever. My son. My perfect kids, both of you.”
Jonathan squeezes his eyes shut. “I just wish he hadn’t… taken this too, Will. You’ve lost nearly everything to him. You used to be so… so happy and carefree, always smiling and laughing and you drew whatever your little heart wanted ‘cause you wanted to and you wrote and… and you talked so much, and after you were taken you… you withdrew. But not everyone, Will. You haven’t lost us. No way in hell.”
Will tucks himself into Jonathan’s side again. “I know the world is ending outside but I just had to… prove I’m not afraid anymore. Even though I am. I’m terrified of this part of me, okay? I thought I was finally okay with it, but the visions… I couldn’t let him get to me first. I knew I had to…”
“Tell us even if you didn’t want to, or else he would?”
Will freezes a little, staring right back at Mike’s darkened, twisted face. There’s guilt dripping from it like honey. “I… guess, yeah. Before he did to everyone. Lesser of two evils, I guess, so if everyone hated me…”
Mike kicks a foot between both of Will’s in some Mike Wheeler form of physical reassurance since Will’s family is holding him from either side. “You know you didn’t deserve fuck all of that, right? I really hope you know that. I mean, this super ugly, egotistical, psychopathic jerk on a power trip holding — holding this above your head? When the… the world looks like it does? For you? It’s… disgusting. It’s disgusting.”
“People like me are sick. Ill. On the news, they all die just for being… this way.”
“You are not sick, baby.”
“I feel like it, though. Deep down. I might…”
“Hell’s gonna freeze over before me or Mom let that happen. We’re in your corner. For real, okay?”
“I just…” Will sniffs. “I’ve thought about telling you all a thousand times. A thousand different ways, a thousand different reactions. I didn’t expect…”
Mike finally leans over, rests a hand on Will’s knee. They lock eyes and Will swears he feels his stomach drop. “We’re kicking this motherfucker’s ass right next to you, Will, okay? All of us. We’re standing by. You’re not alone anymore. And I’m gonna be a better best friend for you. I’m gonna.”
“I’m gonna be a better brother, Will. Gonna step up for you. No more… no more drama with Nance. You’re important. And loved. Fuck. I’m gonna wingman the hell outta you, you hear me? Top Gun?”
Will thinks he sees something spark in Mike’s eyes, but he can’t be sure. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking.
“You have nothing to be scared of anymore, baby. Nothing. Vecna lies. No matter what you think the truth is out there in the world, no matter what the news says. He lies. We’ve got you.”
“Yeah,” Mike agrees. “And the party, too. If you wanna tell them. I—”
“I’m…” Will furrows his brows. “I don’t know. This was scary enough, I…”
“Whatever you choose, we’re here for you.”
“Okay,” Will sputters. “Okay, okay. Thank you. For still loving me. For not… seeing me differently. I… whew. God.”
“You’re an honest-to-god sorcerer, dude. Nothing’s gonna change that. There’s nothing we would change about you. We love you.”
Nowhere in Vecna’s mind lies love, but out here, it’s everywhere for Will. He’s entangled in it, basking, even if Vecna didn’t want him to see the truth. Love is power, and Vecna didn’t want Will to see it, but he knows now. He does.
He doesn’t have to be afraid anymore.
Will rubs his eyes with his fists to wipe away the ugly tears still trying to form in his waterline. “I bet Hopper’s so mad we’re way past late.”
“Then, shit, c’mon. Let’s go kick this fucker’s ass for good.”