Chapter Text
November 6th, 1983
In the Wheeler’s basement, Mike, Will, Lucas and Dustin sat around a table, a game of Dungeons & Dragons set in front of them.
“It’s the demogorgon!" exclaimed Mike, slamming down the figurine on the board. The other three panicked for a moment, Dustin shaking Will as he tried to decide what to do.
“Fireball him!” cried Lucas, waving his hands.
“The Demogorgon is tired of your bickering. He takes a step closer,” said Mike grimly.
“No! Fireball is too risky! Cast protection!” Dustin yelled.
“Another step. BOOM!”
“Fireball!” said Lucas at the same time Dustin called, “Protection!”
“FIREBALL!” Will decided, flinging the die at the table. The group watched in slow motion as it bounced closer to the edge before flying off, ricocheting across the room. The three of them shot up from their chairs and rushed over to where it had landed, Mike in slower pursuit.
“Is it a thirteen?”
“I don’t know!”
At that moment, the basement door swung open, revealing Mrs. Wheeler at the top of the stairs.
“Mom, we’re in the middle of a campaign!” Mike complained.
“The end, you mean,” she said strictly. Tapping her watch, she continued, “Fifteen after.”
Mike groaned, chasing her up the stairs. “Just twenty more minutes!”
“You know the rules, Michael. And it’s a school night. You can finish next weekend–”
“But that will ruin the flow–”
“Micheal!”
“Mom, I’m serious. It took two weeks to plan! And how was I supposed to know that it would take ten hours–”
“You’ve been down there for ten hours?” Karen spat.
“Dad, don’t you think–” Mike started, eyes searching for his father.
“I think you should listen to your mother,” Ted droned.
Will, Lucas, and Dustin emerged from the basement, holding their things in their arms. As they made their way to the door, Mike protested lamely, and was met by a solid head shake from his mother. Dustin, holding the pizza box they had been eating out of, split from the group, making his way towards the stairs. He almost stopped him– he knew almost for a fact that it would be offered to Nancy, who had been in a bad mood that morning– but decided against it. If he wanted to be eaten alive by an angry teenage girl, so be it. Annoyed, he trailed Lucas and Will to the garage door, slamming it as he followed them out.
“What was the roll?” Mike asked absentmindedly. He knew they wouldn’t leave without Dustin, so they’d have a minute to speak before they departed.
“Don’t know,” Lucas said, almost too quickly. “Kind of got lost in the commotion. Will looked at Lucas with something like guilt, but the three of them were quickly distracted as Dustin burst through the door, pizza slice half-eaten in his hand.
“Something’s wrong with your sister,” he complained, mumbling through the food in his mouth.
“What’re you talking about?” asked Mike, mind drifting in an attempt to figure out what she could have done to offend her largest admirer.
“She’s got a stick up her butt,” Dustin replied, swallowing.
“It’s because she’s seeing that douchebag Steve Harrington,” Lucas attested.
“Yeah, she’s turning into a real jerk.”
“She’s always been a real jerk,” Mike insisted.
“Nu-uh. She used to be cool. Like that time she dressed up as an elf
for our Eldertree campaign,” said Dustin, climbing onto his bike.
“Yeah, four years ago,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“Just saying.” Dustin pedaled out of the garage, Lucas close behind. Will, however, rolled his bike up to Mike, standing at his side as they watched the pair ride away.
“It was a seven.”
“What?”
“The roll,” said Will, shrugging. “It was a seven. The demogorgon. It got me.”
Mike stared, blinking, as Will finished with, “Well, see you tomorrow.” He stepped onto his bike, and stepped down on the pedal. Mike watched as he rolled down the driveway and into the street, alone.
Will was almost out of eyeshot when Mike yelled, “Wait!” Will turned his head back to the garage, and Mike knew his body language well enough to conclude that he was confused.
He jogged to his bike in the corner of the garage, grabbing the handles and rolling it to the edge of the concrete garage floor. Then he stepped down, gliding to meet Will.
“I didn’t want you to ride home alone.”
Will’s confused expression melted into a smile, and Mike returned it earnestly.
“Let’s go!” he said, and as the two started their journey towards the Byers’ house, the light above the garage flickered.
But neither of them noticed, laughing over something Lucas had said earlier in the day.
“Won’t your mom be mad that you left?” Will asked as the laughter cleared.
“Oh, definitely," Mike said. “But I don’t really mind.”
The two took their time arriving at the Byers’ house, pulling into the empty driveway. Almost immediately, Mike noticed Will’s fallen eyebrows and pursed lips.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, dismounting his bike and resting a hand on Will’s shoulder.
“Hm? Oh, yeah,” he said, looking at the ground. “It’s just that Jonathan was supposed to be here when I got back– I mean, it’s fine, it doesn’t matter. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turned, and walked towards the house. Mike hesitated. For a moment, he considered following him in. Letting his mom yell at him when he returned from school tomorrow so he could keep Will from being alone. Will hated to be alone.
But the fear of his mother’s rage was too much, and she would already be upset that he had accompanied Will home instead of going to bed. So he simply called, “Goodnight!” and hopped back on his bike.
The urge to turn around was strong, and he had to fight it as he pedaled to his house. He turned off Will’s road and onto Mirkwood, still somewhat debating whether he should go back.
Without warning, a figure silently appeared in front of him. Tall, lanky, and with long fingers on only one hand. Startled, Mike veered off the road and into the woods, tumbling from his bike as he went down. He struggled to get his bearings as he stood, leaves flying off him and dirt making his hands sticky. He started to brush it off on his jeans, but the creature was making its way towards him.
With nothing else to do, he ran.
Make it to the Byers, he thought, willing his legs to push him faster. Just make it to the Byers. But the creature's footfalls behind him were getting louder, closer. He squeezed his eyes tight, trying to push back tears birthed from fear. It was just a bad dream, or a hallucination, just something that wasn’t real. It had to be. Nothing was there, the thing he saw couldn’t have been real. It couldn’t be.
He could see Will’s house now. He pushed himself a little harder, and–
His foot caught a rock. His face smashed into the ground, scraping his forehead and pressing his nose into rough concrete. He pushed himself back up, reaching for his face and feeling the slick blood that covered it.
Through the haze of his injuries, he distantly remembered that he was running from something. Fear struck him, and he looked back, expecting to see something lunging at him.
Nothing.
He closed his eyes, and breathed a sigh of relief. His face hurt like hell, but it would be fine in a few weeks. His mom would be pissed when he got home, though.
Mike thought about just going to Will’s that night after all. He’d weighed the pros and cons already– but no. He could laugh about it with Will the next day. Dustin and Lucas would collectively call him a dumbass, but living with a scraped face was better than not living at all. He opened his eyes, prepared to go digging through the woods for his bike.
Mike opened his eyes.
And found himself somewhere that wasn’t Hawkins.