Chapter Text
Mike’s being weird.
And not, like, usual Mike weird, where he’s a little dorky and a little ridiculous and generally confusing. Will’s been watching him closely for the entire duration of their impromptu walk, and Mike’s being genuinely weird.
He seems very on edge. Mike is always a little restless, but lately he tends to be calmer in Will’s presence, which was more comforting for Will than he’d probably admit. Now, his hands keep twitching, like he can’t decide where to keep them, he walks a few paces ahead of Will in total silence, and Will’s pretty sure he can see sweat gleaming on the back of Mike’s neck even though it is, objectively, pretty fucking cold right now.
Needless to say, Will’s a little concerned.
He’s still pretty exhausted himself, even after a day of lying low. He woke up on El and Hopper’s couch to his mom hovering worriedly over him and Mike’s steady presence a few feet away. El returned a couple hours later with Hop and a girl Will had never seen before in his life, but who was apparently El’s sister which, okay. He supposes it makes sense that El would know another kid from the lab. He didn’t really have the bandwidth to question it too much when the hivemind sat like a physical entity in the back of his mind, electric and watching now that Will had… awakened it, or something.
He kept his focus narrowed to El, his mom, and Mike for his own sanity, even though he could feel the girl’s– she’d introduced herself as Kali with broken look Will knew a little too well and a calculating expression he didn’t particularly like– curious eyes on him within the walls of the rather small cabin. It was slowly getting right under Will’s skin, and quite honestly the only thing keeping him from fully exploding with anxiety over what he’d somehow managed to do was the fact that Mike made sure to keep himself practically glued to Will’s side. Will kept his eyes on him, drinking in the comfort of his best friend, and not El who would shoot them the occasional unreadable look when she wasn’t talking to her sister. And then with his mom making a valiant effort not to fret over him and failing pretty badly, well.
When Mike woke up from the nap Will had more or less forced him into and suggested they both go on a walk, Will hadn’t been inclined to argue.
Now, Will puts his arms around himself to stave off the chill in the air, permeating his mind. It really is odd for Mike to not be right next to him. Even back when they were fighting, and Will thought Mike hated him, Mike rarely ever walked ahead of him.
“So, where are we going exactly?” Will tries, hoping to catch Mike’s attention but also because he is genuinely curious. Mike seems to be headed somewhere with purpose.
“It’s a surprise,” Mike says tightly. Will frowns, stopping in his tracks. He would have assumed Mike was teasing him if it weren’t for the strain in his tone. But that tether in his mind begins pulsing harshly, the cacophony of the hive increasing and throbbing behind Will’s head. Dread forms in Will’s stomach.
“Mike,” Will calls. “Hey, wait!”
Mike keeps walking.
An unwanted memory floats to the surface, of the last time Mike turned his back on Will. Then, he had been wearing a yellow overshirt, and they’d been surrounded by music and lights. He hasn’t done it since, and the wound has only just begun to scab over.
Will pinches himself, hard, and shoves it down. That was over a year ago. Something is wrong now.
“Mike! Just wait for a second–”
“Relax, Will,” he says in a way that is very much not relaxed, still not turning around. “We’re almost there if you would just–”
A feeling shoots through Will suddenly, intrinsic as it pulses along the tether, that if Mike takes another step something is about to go very, very wrong.
Will lunges, snagging Mike’s bony wrist and jerking him backward. His pulse pounds so hard he can feel it in his head. He’s half expecting a demogorgon to burst out of the trees.
Nothing happens.
The dread doesn’t leave him; if anything it worsens exponentially when Will realizes Mike is shaking in his hand.
“Mike, please,” Will tugs on Mike’s wrist so he’ll turn around, but he holds fast. Will’s stomach sinks to the leaves under his shoes. “Something’s wrong, we need to go back.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Mike chokes, wrist spasming in Will’s hold.
The panic is pouring in like quicksand, sifting around beneath his skin until Will feels like a livewire. Mike never acts like this. Even when he’s scared, he puts on a brave face. Will's watched him do it so many times.
“Just look at me,” Will pleads, giving Mike’s wrist one more squeeze. He hopes it’s enough.
For a horrifying moment, it isn’t. They stay stagnant, Will feeling completely out of his depth and helpless.
And then Mike whirls around so suddenly he almost knocks Will over.
“Will! Holy shit,” he grabs Will’s shoulders, eyes a little crazed. Will balks, hands instinctively going to Mike’s wrists for stability. He wants to ask Mike what the hell is going on, but the pulse of the hivemind is blaring and Will can’t seem to make his voice work. Mike barrels on regardless.
“Listen to me, don’t keep going, it’s a trap!”
‘What? What’s a trap?”
“Me!” Mike cries desperately. “Me, I’m the trap, you can’t trust–”
Mike’s eyes roll back in his head– and for an utterly terrifying moment Will thinks Henry's about to kill him before Will can so much as scream his name— before he slumps forward into Will’s chest.
Will trembles under Mike’s weight, even though he’s more than capable of holding it. “Mike?” he croaks. He breathes shakily and goes to Mike’s pulse on his neck. When it thrums steadily under Will’s fingertips he gasps in relief. But Mike’s body doesn’t go any less still.
Will holds him in his arms, and allows himself to cry.
___
The walk back to the cabin takes longer than Will would like it to. Mike may not be the heaviest, but he is still sixteen and pushing six feet with his entire weight slumped against Will’s left side.
Plus, navigating the forest proves difficult when Will’s brain keeps trying to completely check out of the entire situation. His grip on Mike is probably absurdly tight, but it’s the only thing keeping Will from floating above his body to watch like he’s on a fucking viewmaster.
Finally, thank fucking god, he heaves Mike onto the porch and slams the door open without preamble.
“Henry’s done something to him,” he wheezes, looking straight at El and ignoring his Mom’s worried shouts as he stumbles in with red rimmed eyes and Mike’s unconscious body.
El understands immediately, jolting from her position beside her sister and running over. Without another word she takes Mike’s free arm and helps Will move him so he’s positioned on the couch in a mirror image of how Will remembers waking up only hours earlier. Mike doesn’t even look peaceful; whatever the hell Henry did to him has his face scrunched in distress. It might’ve been cute if Will wasn’t sick to his stomach with fear. As it is, he looks at Mike’s twisted brows and his heart clenches horribly.
Will doesn’t realize he’s kneeling beside the couch until he’s already there. Maybe he’s being obvious, but for once he can’t find it in himself to care. Not anymore. And definitely not until they’ve figured out what’s wrong with Mike. His hand twitches to reach for Mike’s, but he looks to El and manages to hold himself back from going that far. She’s standing over Mike with concern written all over her face. Will can empathize.
“What happened?” she asks carefully.
“I don’t know,” Will says, gaze not leaving Mike as he speaks. “He was so off the entire time we were outside, but I wasn’t sure what was wrong, just that something was, and then he, like, turned to me all panicked–”
“What the hell were you two even doing out there?” It’s Hopper, marching into the room and demanding answers as he always fucking does. Will doesn’t have even a shred of patience for it right now.
“Now’s not the time,” Will snaps. He bristles as Hopper gets closer, but his mom touches Hopper’s elbow and he stops.
“Hop,” is all she says, quiet but firm. Will almost gags, turning around before they see his eyeroll. El stares at him inquisitively, but makes no comment, which he appreciates.
“Did he say anything?” El continues.
Will swallows. “He said it was a trap. He- he said the trap was himself.”
“Henry was in his head,” she says. Will can only nod grimly.
She sighs, and comes to sit at Will’s side, wordlessly prompting him to continue. “I could feel it happening,” he confesses, shoving his shaking hands into his lap. “I just didn’t know what until…”
They both look at Mike, still very much unconscious between them.
“Was he not sleeping before you two left?”
Will startles at the new voice. Kali hasn’t spoken much since she got here, so it’s still somewhat unfamiliar.
Her meaning catches up to him only a second later.
“The nap,” he says, meeting El’s eyes. “How did neither of us sense him here?”
El shakes her head. “I cannot feel him like you, Will.”
Dread and guilt tangle together in Will, and he looks away. Mike’s chest rises and falls in a hypnotic rhythm. Will longs to lay his hand there; feel Mike’s breathing and heartbeat, the way he could for a brief, beautiful moment in that field. Before everything went to complete shit. When Mike smiled at him.
El appears to be contemplating something when she speaks again. “When I was with Max, in her head,” she starts, her expression pinching. Will’s stomach drops, and he touches her back as gently as he can manage. El really does not like talking about this. Wherever she’s going with it, she needs support. For a moment, there is no one else in the room. Just Will, El, and Mike. She looks at him gratefully. “I had to find her. In a memory.”
“That’s where Mike is,” Will realizes. “He’s smart. He would have done the same.”
She nods. “If Henry has tried to hurt him–” Will winces– “that is where he will be. Somewhere happy.”
“I’ll set up the bath,” Hopper says gruffly.
“No,” Will interrupts, something like protectiveness rushing through him. “I’ll do it.”
Based on what Mike’s been confiding in him lately, albeit in a roundabout confusing way that makes Will feel a little crazy, he doubts Mike would want El in his mind. The deeply selfish part of Will that’s been concerningly loud lately, even worse now that he’s met someone as incredible as Robin, doubts El could help as much as Will. But this is Mike, his best friend. Will knows him, even when he doesn’t.
His mom furrows her brows, though Will highly doubts she doesn’t realize what he’s suggesting. “You’ll set up the bath, honey?”
Yeah, Will’s not buying it for a second.
“I’ll go into Mike’s mind.”
He stares defiantly and dares her to argue. He understands her worry, he really does, but she promised she would trust him. Will has more than proved himself capable, he has to believe that. Believe that he can help Mike, like Mike has always helped him. The last thing he wants to do in this situation is watch helplessly while El tries to save his best friend. Not if he can do something.
Her mouth thins, but surprisingly it’s not his mom that objects.
“And you’re sure that’s a good idea.”
They all turn to Kali. She’s been off to the side, sitting crisscrossed and observing them all silently, much like El. But where El is more curious in her observations, her sister seems to be critical. Will feels assessed by her. It makes his skin itch.
The way she spoke was not a question either.
He removes his hand from El, and clenches it in his lap. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Your connection to Henry is unsettling,” she says. “These abilities are not yours as they are ours. How do we know this is not exactly what he wants from you?”
How do we know you can be trusted echoes plainly in the silence of the room.
Will feels a little queasy at the reminder of exactly who this new ability is connected to, but if it can save Mike not once but twice, then fuck it, Will will take it.
Will shifts to look at Mike. Maybe he should be more concerned with her words, but he knows what Mike would say to them if he were awake. And the fact that he isn’t is more than enough reason to take a risk. Mike would do it for Will a hundred times over. That’s just the kind of person he is.
“It doesn’t matter,” he says, voice cracking. “I won’t leave him in there.”
Kali frowns at him and turns to El, eyes softening. “What do you think?” she asks.
El studies him, and yeah alright, that’s definitely her sister, but at least Will is familiar with her quizzical eyes.
He’s honestly surprised El hasn’t objected to this yet. If Mike were his boyfriend, he’d want to be the one to go in there and he’d insist on it. As it is, he’s doing that anyway. But Mike is El’s boyfriend, not his. And more importantly she’s a lot more experienced in rooting around in people’s minds. Will would rather do whatever it took to make sure Mike was safe than engage in an excruciating tug of war that he’s not even sure his sister’s still playing in, sometimes.
Or maybe it just feels that way because he’d gotten used to having Mike to himself again. It’s selfish, but Mike’s been amazing recently. An entire year more or less free of girls. It’s been dangerously easy to forget he’s still dating one.
(If he is. Will would like to think they’re close enough again that Mike would tell him if they’d broken up, for his advice if nothing else, but Mike’s a bit of an insane wild card these days. It makes Will feel a little delirious.)
It’s clear when El comes to a decision with a straightening of her shoulders. “It is Henry’s power that did this. They will undo it better than mine.” She makes eye contact with him. “And we can trust Will. He is my brother.”
Will smiles proudly, focusing desperately on that feeling and not the sinking in his gut. He hopes she is right, for all their sakes, but he’s not sure he deserves it from her. She may not be as confident in him if she, well… knew.
He pictures Robin’s energetic smile. If someone like her exists, then he doesn’t need to be ashamed of it. She would tell him it’s alright, that he just needs to believe in himself. He can do this. He deserves to do this. Right?
It might be easier to believe if he didn’t want his sister’s maybe-boyfriend so badly; he’s pretty sure that’s not exactly great morally.
He shakes himself. None of that matters right now. With everyone in varying levels of agreement, there is only one thing left to do.
Will reaches for Mike. Lays a hand on his arm, right over his bicep. Mike’s sweater is soft. He thinks he feels Mike’s arm twitch at his touch, and he fights to keep his expression neutral.
He closes his eyes.
Now that he knows it’s there, finding that pulsing connection is almost effortless. He doesn’t need to summon its full scale for this, this should be subtler than stopping three demogorgons. He just needs to focus. For Mike.
In real life you’re more like a sorcerer, because your powers don’t come from a book of spells. They’re innate.
Carefully, he reaches for his tether to Henry, and plucks.
Something shifts deep in his gut. He opens his eyes, and is met with an ambient expanse of nothing.
Like, literally nothing. Darkness stretches endlessly in all directions. It’s so jarringly different from the enclosed space of the cabin that Will gasps and stumbles back. Water sloshes into his shoes and around his ankles. He barely manages to plant his palms when he lands flat on his ass.
His lungs constrict as the nothingness expands. There’s about as much air as anything else that’s here. God, is this what El sees every time she talks about the void? He needs to give her another hug, this is awful. There’s no direction, for all he knows he could drown at any moment and maybe they were all right, he wasn’t ready for this–
Distantly, cruel laughter echoes in his mind. It’s faint, like he’s almost trying to disguise it, but Will fucking knows him. He’s watching, Will can feel it now. He wants Will to be weak. He wants to take Mike from him and watch Will break.
That’s not going to happen.
Will grits his teeth and sits up. It’s all darkness because this place isn’t real, not really. It’s just a way to the mindscape, a way to Mike. He just needs to focus on finding Mike.
Sure enough, as soon as he pictures Mike’s soft smile, freckles darker in the sun, the Nothing seems to settle around him. Less oppressive and more focused, guiding. Will stands, takes a few tentative steps. Laughter echoes in his head again, but it is bright in the dark. Young and free. Will latches onto it, steps quickening with his confidence.
A couch materializes a few paces ahead, and collapsed on it, Mike.
Will rushes forward, fear completely forgotten. It’s the couch in the cabin, but this time no else is around. It’s just them.
He perches on the edge of the cushions, much closer than he permitted himself with eyes heavy on his every movement. “Mike,” he murmurs, carefully taking Mike’s wrist with one hand. His heart falls when it doesn’t do anything; not even so much as a twitch this time.
But this must be his way into Mike’s mind. He can’t afford to second guess himself.
He raises his free hand and carefully, so carefully, lays his palm over Mike’s forehead.
The moment he touches warm skin, his vision tunnels. He sucks in a sharp breath right as he’s dragged under.
___
Will opens his eyes to blinding light.
Blue and yellow fluorescents flood the room and loud party music blasts into the space. The sheer volume of sound and light is nauseating, and there’s a strange low ringing beneath the surface, so it takes Will a second to adjust. The nausea doesn’t remotely lessen when he does.
“You called maybe a couple times! It’s been a year, Mike. Meanwhile El has like, a book of letters from you.”
Will’s stomach drops. It’s beyond strange to hear his own voice from where he can’t see, drenched in hurt. It’s uncomfortably like when the mindflayer– no, Henry would speak through him. But at least then it was still in his own chest.
“That’s because she’s my girlfriend, Will!”
Will winces automatically, but that quickly fades. Mike.
He follows Mike’s voice, and the crowd parts for him. As if the memory is curving around his presence. Everyone blurs around the edges and fades, and then it’s just Will and Mike. Face to face yet so far apart in this moment. After the year they’ve spent doing nothing but getting closer, it aches to be back here. Why would Mike hide here? It doesn’t make any sense.
Unless this memory doesn’t hurt at all for Mike.
“And us?”
Will still cannot believe he said that. He remembers it came out of his mouth before he could stop it, but fuck, how much more damn obvious could he be?
“We’re friends! We’re–”
Will reaches for Mike’s shoulder. Maybe he can… pull him out? The way Mike does for him.
But the moment he makes contact everything goes red.
Everything. The lights, the people, Mike. Will nearly keels over, screaming as that ringing suddenly crescendos and fills his entire skull. He switches completely to autopilot, everything in him telling him to just get out, and bolts blindly for the nearby closet.
He slams the door behind him and leans heavily against it, panting for breath. “What the fuck,” he says to what should be empty space. But it’s not the dank inside of a closet Will finds himself in.
A disco ball glitters high on the ceiling of Hawkin’s Middle. Children that seemed so big at the time are all smaller than Will now. He blinks several times, but the landscape of his old middle school gym doesn’t change. The Snowball.
It would make sense for this to be Mike’s happy memory, he realizes. His friends think of this dance with such fondness, and really, Will is happy for them. They certainly needed a cliche school dance after all the shit with the mindflayer.
But all Will remembers is constantly reminding himself he wasn’t possessed anymore, he was real, and–
Wanting more than anything to dance with Mike.
He almost swallows the longing as soon as it surfaces on pure instinct, but he pauses, observing the throngs of 13 year olds. Robin’s manic grin flashes through his mind.
Well, it’s not like he’ll find Mike by not thinking about him.
So instead he lets the longing unfurl in his chest, soaking into his skin. It doesn’t hurt like it used to. Like Will is always afraid it will. Instead, he feels calmed. A bubbling energy begins to thrum inside him, lighting a path.
The surrounding crowd once again curves and fades into the background, and there he is. Mike. Looking a lot younger and shorter than he does now, cheekbones sharp and defined where they used to be softer. Will spends far too much time passively studying the planes of Mike’s face, thinking about how nice he looks and what shapes Will would need to sketch to draw him. He’s probably far less subtle than he hopes, but in his defense. It’s hard not to pay attention when he literally lives with the guy.
As the memory continues to take shape, Will more or less expects to see Mike dancing with El. He remembers very clearly how much Mike had smiled when she’d shown up.
Except it’s not El next to Mike. It's Will.
A smaller Will, still a whole head shorter than Mike and bowlcut flopping into his wide eyes. He’s looking at Mike, because of course he is. Seeing the affection on his own young face makes his stomach clench.
Will approaches the scene, and at the same time a vaguely familiar looking girl walks up to them.
Ah. This is when Mike sends him away. Will used to feel like Mike never stopped sending him away, after that.
His younger self walks away to dance, but Will doesn’t need to watch to know the exact grooves of the smile he fakes. This time, he keeps his eyes on Mike. And that’s when he sees it.
Mike was looking at him. He kept his eyes on Will the whole time. Will was so fucking busy trying not to look as miserable as he felt that he missed what was right in front of him.
Mike looks sad.
Will runs to him. This has to be Mike.
But before he even gets there this time, the room goes red. “No!” he cries. It’s too late. Static fills his vision.
When it clears, Will’s in the middle of a street. He stumbles forward and narrowly avoids falling flat on his face.
“Mike?” he calls, looking around frantically. The only space he can see is that lit by streetlights, but at least it’s not mirkwood.
There’s a choked sound abruptly cut off. Will whirls around, and his heart breaks.
A twelve year old Mike is on hands and knees in the grass, under a flickering streetlight. His bike is discarded on the road in a way that scratches at Will’s own memory of leaving his bike at twelve. Will shivers, and jogs over to him.
Mike has no reaction to his approach. Will tries not to let it sour his hope, crouching to be level with his friend. Mike continues sniffling into his hand.
Will desperately wants to comfort him, but he’s afraid to touch him and somehow glitch the memory again. If Mike really is hiding in a happy memory, then this is definitely not the one. Something, though, is compelling Will to stay. He doesn’t remember Mike ever telling him about this when they were kids. There’s an inkling starting in his mind. An idea of when this may have taken place.
“Will!”
Will startles, for a moment thinking Mike could see him, but Mike wasn’t looking at him. His hand was back in the grass, gripping so tight his little fingers were ripping blades with white knuckles. Tears stream down his cheeks. Will’s own name sounds ripped out of him, like he hadn’t intended to say it until it was already out.
“Will! Come back!”
And suddenly Will knows exactly what week he’s in.
“Come– come back…” Mike whispers through his tears. He rubs furiously at his eyes and Will jolts at the blood smearing on his face. Will reaches unthinkingly for his thin arm. Maybe to draw his hand away from scrubbing so roughly at his face, something–
Only to be swallowed by red and static and pain once more.
This time when Will’s thrown into the next memory he’s ready for it. He plants his feet, skidding into the dirt. Red flashes in the night, and for a second Will panics, but it’s not the glitch. It’s sirens.
Will leans dizzily against the– truck? It’s cold to the touch. He looks down to find younger versions of not just Mike this time, but his three friends. And a small girl with a shaved head he quickly realizes is El. They’re all staring at the edge of–
Will’s stomach drops. The edge of the water.
He watches, almost in slow motion, as firefighters pull his twelve year old body from the lake.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
The nausea comes back tenfold. Is it even possible to puke in someone else's head?
Mike spins around angrily. It’s unsettling to hear him so obviously on the verge of tears like this; the Mike that Will knows now has gotten scarily good at masking it. He starts shouting at El, while Lucas and Dustin beg him to stop and Will can’t take it. He can’t.
The cruel laughter in his head turns to a full on cackle. Will jumps, scanning the memory, but there’s no sign of him. Just his voice, filling every crevice of the space.
“Oh Will,” he croons. “Isn’t the truth what you wanted?”
And then there’s something slimy around Will’s ankle, tugging him until he’s unbalanced. He screams, scrabbling uselessly at the ground. He calls for his friends, for El and Mike. But they don’t hear him. They all think he’s dead.
Before he is yanked beneath the earth, there’s a glimmer. He thinks he catches Mike’s eyes looking back.
Then nothing. Darkness. Will is dragged down, down, down…