Chapter Text
Three years ago
The street was quiet.
Not in the way you’d think. Where the air brushes against the wind, the absence of traffic hum or lights flickering. It was a different quiet, like the air was holding its breath, too scared to speak. On this occasion, Mike was the air.
They stood on the curb in front of Mike's house with their bikes tipped between the grass and the curb. The sky had begun to set, remaining bright with a hint of darkness, as if it were trying to stretch the day out so that tomorrow wouldn't come.
Mike kept shifting his legs; his hands wouldn't settle anywhere. He picked on the fabric of his pants, pulling it. His knees were lifted to his chest.
Will held his sketchbook on his thighs; he wasn't drawing. He hadn't drawn all day. It was just…there.
Mike cleared his throat. “So,” he paused, “You’re really leaving.”
Will nodded, “Yeah.”
“Tomorrow,” Mike said, he knew it was tomorrow, but he just couldn't accept it.
“Tomorrow.”
Mike looked at the street, the lights flickering, the cracks in the concrete, the trees that never grew. It all looked the same; there was no change, which made it worse. Like the world wasn't going to stop spinning when Will disappeared from it.
“You're gonna hate California,” Mike said, trying to clear the air.
Will huffed a small laugh. “You’ve never been.”
“I don't need to,” Mike said. “It's far.” He paused before speaking again. “Too far.”
Will stared at his shoes. “I know.”
Mike didn't like how calm Will sounded. Like he’d already accepted it, like Mike was the only one panicking. It made him feel alone; it made him realize that Will won't orbit around his world anymore.
His stomach tightened. He hated that feeling, the feeling of ending up alone. It was one of his biggest fears. But his top fear?
It was drifting apart from Will.
“We’ll talk,” Mike said fast. “Like—obviously.”
Will looked up at him. His gaze softened. “You promise?” he asked.
Mike felt offended. “Why wouldn't I?”
Will shrugged, “Everyone says that, and it never comes true.”
Mike swallowed. “I'm not everyone.” He paused. “We… we are not everyone.”
Will didn't answer right away, like he was deciding whether to agree or to argue. Mike knew him; he knew what was going on in that head.
“Okay,” Will replied.
Mike hated the way he said it; it was a tone that felt like he didn't believe him, but chose not to fight it.
“I’ll call,” Mike said, “Like all the time.”
“What about time zones?” Will asked. He moved his knees up to his chest.
“So?” Mike said, “I don't care. I'll call after school, you’ll be home.”
Will's mouth pressed into a thin line, “If my mom lets me,”
Mike shifted, “What does that mean?” He frowned.
Will hesitated, his fingers tightened against the sketchbook edge. “Nothing. Just—sometimes, she’s stressed.”
Mike nodded. He didn't understand what that meant, “Okay. Then you call me.”
Will looked back at him, “You want me to call you?”
Mike scoffed like it was obvious. “Well, yeah. Why wouldn't you?”
Will stared at him for a second, then his gaze shifted to the streets, like he was thinking.
“I will.”
Mike tried to read him, but it was stupid; he’d never been good at reading Will. He’d get lucky sometimes. Will was hard to read.
Will said, quieter. “I'll be waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
“For you to call,” Will said.
Mike nodded hard, “I will.”
Will looked at him again, “You mean it?”
“Yes.” His tone sounded irritated, “I just said that.
Will's expression didnt change, his eyes softened a little. “Okay.”
Mike exhaled; he wanted to say something bigger. Something that would make this feel less…depressing. But the only thing that came out was, “Don't forget about me.”
Will's face tightened, his eyebrows pulled together. “That's stupid.”
Mike swallowed, “still.”
Will shifted closer and bumped his shoulder into Mike's, light. “I won't,”
Mike sat there, staring at the ground. He’d always been scared of people leaving him; it was the reason he couldn't handle the weight of having friends - it felt too good to be true. Mike felt that Will was all he needed, but Will's gone after today.
From the porch, his mom called, “Michael! Inside”
Mike flinched. He sighed, picked up his bike, and straightened it.
Will stood.
“So,” he said, “Tomorrow.”
Will nodded, “Tomorrow.”
Mike waited for Will to say something else, but he didnt. He just watched Mike.
Will didnt say bye before turning.
Mike watched him walk down the sidewalk with his bike rolling beside him. When Will reached the corner, he didnt look back.
Mike told himself it didnt matter, maybe he didnt say bye because it's not a bye, it's just a see you later.
—---
Three years later
Mike had begun his morning by finding out Will was coming back.
He was halfway through a bowl of cereal when his mom said, “Joyce called last night.”
Mike didn't reply; he kept his eyes on the bowl.
“She got another job out here,” his mom continued, “They’re moving back to Hawkins.”
Mike’s spoon stopped in mid-air.
His mom didnt notice. She was too busy washing her dishes.
“Will starts school next week,” she added.
Mike's jaw tightened. His throat felt tight. He forced the spoon back down into the cereal.
“Oh,” He said, like it meant nothing.
His mom turned off the sink and finally looked at him, “You two were inseparable.”
Mike shrugged, “In middle school.”
“And now you’ll see each other again,” She said, smiling. “That's nice.”
Mike nodded, but he didn't agree. “Yeah, nice.”
His mom tilted her head. “You're not excited?”
Mike gave her a look, “Why would I be excited?”
Karen frowned, “Because he was your best friend.”
Mike’s jaw clenched. He hated that phrase, Best friend.
“He moved,” Mike said. He stood up abruptly and rinsed his bowl too hard.
“I'm leaving,” Mike said.
“For what? You’ve got time.”
Mike grabbed his backpack, “I don't want to be late.”
He left the house and sucked in the cold air, his breath fogged.
On the way to school, the same thought kept looping in his head:
He's coming back.
I don't want him to
Mike tried to tell himself it was because it would be awkward. But because it would be weird. Because he didn't like surprises.
They were all fake.
Mike was still mad, he’d been mad for so long it didn't even feel like a choice.
—-
Dustin was already waiting at the corner. Lucas stood beside him, calm, hands in his jacket pockets.
“Dude,” Dustin said immediately, “You look like you woke up on the wrong side of bed.”
Mike kept walking. “There is no wrong side.”
Lucas lifted his eyebrows. “That just means there is no right side.”
Mike shot him a look. “What is this? An interrogation?”
Dustin matched Mike’s pace, “You're cranky.”
“I'm not cranky,”
“You’re cranky,” Dustin repeated, like he was enjoying it.
Mike exhaled sharply, “Okay. What.”
Lucas watched Mike, “Something happen at home?”
Mike's jaw tightened. He should've lied, he should've shrugged, and changed the subject.
But Lucas was staring him down like a dog, Dustin too.
“William Byers is coming back.”
Dustin’s face lit up. “Wait–seriously?” He paused, “William as in, THE Will?!”
Lucas' expressions changed fast. “Back back?”
Dustin chuckled. “That's awesome. You guys were—”
“Don't,” Mike cut in.
Dustin stopped mid-word, and he frowned. “Don't what?”
“Don't do that,” Mike said, “Don't act like it's some big happy thing.” His voice sharpened.
“Why wouldn't it be? You—” He paused, his face was still for less than a second, then he gasped. “Don't tell me—” He laughed. “Don't tell me you're still holding a grudge.”
Mike snapped, “He didn’t call.”
Lucas’s face tightened, and Dustin blinked.
“Mike, I know you're mad, but really… It's been three years.” Lucas emphasizes the three.
Mike scoffed. “Exactly, I waited three years for a call. Only to find out I was never getting one.”
“Maybe he just… I don't know. Maybe stuff happened.” Dustin shrugged.
Mike huffed a laugh. “Stuff happens to everybody.”
Lucas nodded slowly, “You’re still mad.”
Mike's lips pressed to a thin straight line, his eyes narrowed.
Dustin tried again, “Are you sure he didnt…try? Like, maybe you missed–”
“I didnt miss anything,” Mike cut him off. “I waited. I called. I left messages. Then I stopped because I can't be pathetic forever.”
Dustin nodded slowly.
Lucas looked ahead, “So what are you going to do?”
Mike's chest tightened, his eyes narrowed once more. “Nothing.”
Dustin glanced at him. “Nothing nothing?”
Mike's voice went flat. “He’s just a guy coming back to school.”
Lucas' eyes went to him. “You don't believe that.”
“Sure, I do.”
The three of them entered the school.
“Look, Mike, you can't hold grudges forever.” Lucas sighed.
“Watch me.” Mike's voice went flat.
“I just don’t think it's reasonable for that. You guys were inseparable.”
Mike stopped abruptly, “Well, people change. Okay? He didn't call, he never answered. He changed.”
“You don't know that.”
Mike snapped. “I know enough.”
Mike walked away, leaving both of them in the middle of the hallway. I mean, how could they? Mike has all the reasons to stay mad at Will. I mean, Will just left him, with no word, not even a goodbye.
—-
Will started school the following Monday.
Mike didn't plan to watch him; his original plan was to avoid him at all costs.
That plan didnt work out.
It wasn't like Mike stood in the hallway scanning faces like some creep. He just… kept noticing every time a group of students passed through the front door. Every time someone passed. Every time the name “California kid” crept up in the halls.
By the third period, Mike was already pissed.
Not at Will, not at the school, but himself.
He was pissed that he was pissed. Because why does he care enough to be pissed?
He stepped out of class into the hallway, and something caught his eye. It was the same wavy hair he remembered, just longer. It was Will.
Will looked… different.
Not in some glow-up way, well… maybe. Mike didn't want to admit that. He looked older, bulkier, but not in some John Cena type of way, just slightly.
Mike stopped walking.
Will looked up.
Their eyes met.
Mike felt that quick drop in his stomach. Like his body reacted before his brain acknowledged.
Will’s gaze slid off him. He continued at his locker, shoving books inside.
He acted like Mike was some object. He felt heat rush up his neck.
Are you serious?
Will shut his locker and walked away without saying anything.
Mike stood there, staring at him, jaw clenched so hard it ached.
Dustin brushed passed him. “There he is.”
Mike didnt respond; he was staring at the hallway.
Lucas came up beside him. “Mike.
Mike snapped and forced his feet to move. “Yeah, I saw.”
Dustin was already yapping. “He looks the same but also not… Like older—right? You should say hi.”
Mike scoffed, “Why?”
“Because you're not ten anymore,” Lucas chimed in.
Mike shot him a look. “Exactly.”
Dustin frowned. “Mike, as much as I love you, you're being ridiculous.”
Mike snapped. “Me? Ridiculous? No way.” He continued. “He’s ridiculous, he looked at me like I wasn't even here.”
Dustin's expression shifted, “Did he?”
“Yes.” Mike said, “He did.”
Lucas and Dustin didnt argue.
—--
As if Mike's life couldn't get any worse. It did.
They ended up sharing fourth period.
Mike walked in and saw Will near the front, sitting straight, notebook open, actually paying attention.
“Will,” the teacher said warmly. “Welcome back.”
Will nodded politely and gave her a soft smile.
Mike slid into his seat toward the back and dropped his backpack louder than necessary. The teacher's eyes flicked to him immediately.
Mike leaned back, arms crossed, and kept his gaze on the screen.
His gaze didnt take long to betray him; he started watching Will.
Will didnt turn. Not once.
The teacher started class. Will took notes. Mike pretended like he wasn't watching. Halfway through the class, the teacher asked a question. Mike answered without raising his hand.
The teacher sighed, “Mike.”
Mike held up his hands, like he was innocent. “What? I'm right.”
The teacher shook her head but moved on, because she always moved on; she never liked dealing with Mike.
Mike felt Will’s gaze on him for the first time. He looked up, and there he was, Will was staring.
He didnt look shocked or scared. He looked annoyed.
Mike kept his gaze until Will looked away.
After 2 seconds, Will looked away first.
—-
After class, Mike tried to leave fast. He didn't want to see Will, he didn't want to stand close enough for Will to speak.
It was like life was just playing games with him. He stepped into the hall and almost ran into Will.
Will stopped short, eyes flashing up. Mike stopped too. For a second, neither of them moved. Mike felt like stepping aside would be like losing. It was stupid, even he knew.
Will’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Move.”
Mike's brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”
Will’s voice stayed flat. “You're in the way.”
Mike laughed under his breath. “You’re kidding.”
Will held his stare. “I'm not.”
Mike stepped closer, “You’ve got the whole hallway.”
Will’s jaw tightened, “So do you.”
Mike stared at him, trying to read what was under the calm. Will was good at hiding it. He always had been.
“You're acting like you don't know me,” Mike said flatly.
Will’s eyes flickered. “I know you,” Will said, “Enough.”
Mike's chest tightened.
“Enough?” Mike repeated. “What's that supposed to mean?”
Will exhaled through his nose; he's irritated. “It means stop.”
“Stop what?” Mike snapped.
Will’s gaze hardened. “Stop doing that thing where you think the world revolves around you.”
Mike’s hands curled into fists. “Oh, so that's what you came back with. You come back after years and you just—what—judging me?”
“I'm not judging you.” Will’s jaw clenched.
Mike laughed, “Yes, you are.”
“You’re the one who's trying to start something.”
Mike's mouth twitched. “I'm not starting anything; you are.”
Will’s expression changed. Just slightly. Like what Mike said, hit something.
“What are you talking about?” Will's brows furrowed slightly, his voice quieter than before.
Mike swallowed. “You never called.”
Mike can see Will's Adam's apple bobble. “We are not doing this here.”
Mike scoffed. “Why? Because you don't like being called out?”
Will’s mouth opened, then closed. “Because you’re not the only person who exists.”
That made Mike’s anger spike.
“You think I don't know what?” Mike snapped. “You think I don't spend every day being reminded of that?”
Will stared at him. “Then act like it.”
“You don't get to tell me how to act.”
Will’s voice stayed flat. It somehow made Mike rage, the way he controlled himself. “You’re acting like a jerk on purpose.”
“And you’re acting like you're better than me on purpose.”
Wills' nostrils flared. “I'm not.”
“Then why’d you look through me?” Mike argued. “Why’d you act like you didnt even—”
“Because I didnt want to talk to you.” Will snapped.
Silence.
Mike felt that deep in his chest, his breath hitched, and before speaking, he swallowed.
“You… didnt want to,” Mike repeated slowly.
Will didnt flinch. “No.”
Mike stared at him, rage mixing with something else that he didnt want to admit.
Sadness.
“I don't believe you.” Mike's voice calmed down.
“What don't you believe, Mike?” Will’s voice rose. “That I didn't want to talk to you? This is exactly what I mean.” He stops. “The world doesn't revolve around you.” He says slowly.
The words hit deep. Mike didn't know what to say. He just stared at him.
“Fine,” Mike said, voice cold. “Then don't.”
Will’s eyes narrowed.
Mike stepped to the side, finally. Not because he was admitting defeat, but because he didnt want Will close enough to see his face.
Will walked past him without another word. Mike stood there for another second, his mind reverted to when Will left and didnt say goodbye three years ago.
And since the world hates Mike. Dustin appeared a moment later. “Dude—what was that?”
Mike exhaled, “Nothing.”
Lucas chimed in once again. “That was nothing.”
Mike’s voice sharpened. “Drop it.”
“You guys talked.” Dustin continued, ignoring what Mike said.
Mike snapped. “Yeah. He told me he didnt want to.”
Dustin went quiet, and so did Lucas.
“That doesn't mean—”
“It means exactly what it means.” Mike cut in. “He came back and decided I'm not worth his time.”
Dustin's voice got small. “Maybe he's just—nervous.”
Mike scoffed. “William Byers? Nervous? Please.”
Lucas watched him like he wanted to argue, then didnt. It irritated Mike.
—-
That night, Mike lay in his bed staring at his ceiling, replaying Will's words.
I didnt want to talk to you.
Mike turned onto his side and clenched his jaw til it ached.
He tried to tell himself it was fine. That it didnt matter. That proved everything. That Will really have moved on. It made Mike mad, not at Will… Well, yes, at Will, but more mad at himself. For not moving on all those years. For making excuses for Will for why he never responded. It made him feel pathetic.
Even though all those excuses Mike believed were true, the actual truth was worse.
Mike didnt know what to do with the part of him that had wanted Will to hesitate. For will to feel guilty, to look like he remembered. Maybe a small part of him would have healed if Will also felt devastated.
But Will was fine, better than fine. He was thriving. While Mike was still stuck in the past.
Mike did what he always did when something hurt too much. He turned it into anger.
His throat tightened. He stared at the wall till his eyes burned.
Tomorrow would come, and Will would be there again, walking through the halls as he belonged there.
Mike wasn't going to let him keep doing it.
He knew Will. He wasn't going to let Will ignore him or keep pretending.
After all, Will was always good at faking.
But Mike was good at noticing.