Chapter Text
New York, 1987
Will Byers supposes he’s never exactly been normal. To say he is would be a lie, and he’d prefer not to make a habit out of lying, least of all to himself. No matter how much easier of a route it may seem.
So he opts not to think—much less talk—about the things that set him apart from the rest of the world. The things that set him apart from even his own equally-nerdy friends. The things that his dad said about him that just might be true. The things that make him strange.
Will had no idea that things could get any stranger.
The day starts out normal. Aside from the fact that Will’s mood is at an all-time low because it’s his first day back at school from winter break.
His sleep-addled brain protests as he forces himself to sit up in his bed with a sigh. His alarm has been croaking incessantly into the room for at least 45 minutes now, meaning he definitely won’t have time to dress in a stylish outfit for school today. Not that he would anyway, he realizes—he’s overdue for laundry by a few days now. He scowls at the little red numbers on the alarm clock’s display and sluggishly gets out of bed.
Will knows that he’s the worst version of himself in the mornings, especially when those mornings involve having to wake up for school after sleeping in all break, being forced to wear pants that don’t quite fit right because of his own procrastination, and a shocking lack of coffee because his mom and her boyfriend got to it before him, and his brother didn’t make any because his college is still on its winter break. He feels a pang of envy at the thought of Jonathan getting to sleep in until noon, cozy and warm in his bed.
After a drawn-out morning routine, thinking he’d be late at least 5 different times, and staring longingly into the window of a café on his way, Will finally makes it to his high school. He isn’t even given the grace of having a chance to meet up with his friends at their usual spot before class, and the only thing he can hope for at this point is that lessons won’t be too bad for today, considering it’s only the first day back.
Dustin’s probably enjoying it, Will thinks with a sigh, wondering if his friend really is a super-genius or just a straight-up masochist. He absentmindedly doodles in the margins of his paper as his teacher drones on about upcoming due dates.
Lunchtime is when he finally gets to see his friends—the silver lining of each of his days at school, apart from his art class. He smiles as he sits down next to Lucas, who’s still waiting on the others.
“Hey, Byers!” Lucas playfully punches his shoulder, giving him an over-exaggerated pout. “Where were you this morning, huh? You bailed on us.”
“It’s the first day back from break, Lucas. Cut me some slack.” Will chuckles. “Plus, we were out of coffee.”
“Ah. Sounds pretty serious,” Lucas deadpans gravely, drawing another quiet laugh out of Will.
“What sounds pretty serious?” Will’s heart jumps at the sound of the familiar voice and he looks up at the opposite side of the table where Mike and Max are taking their seats, the latter having her signature
“I’m-so-done-with-Mike-Wheeler” face plastered all over her features, no doubt having been bickering about some arbitrary subject with him.
“Will didn’t get any coffee this morning,” Lucas explains seriously, and Mike’s expression immediately sobers.
“Oh, God. That should be a crime on the first day back from break,” Mike says, eliciting a nod from Will.
“That’s what I’m saying!” Will almost forgets his fatigue in the presence of Mike Wheeler, his heart rate speeding up against his will, as if in lieu of caffeine.
Maybe all he needs is Mike to wake him up in the morning.
Don’t think about that, he sharply reprimands himself, his eyes involuntarily narrowing as he tries not to dwell on how much he hates that part of himself.
And that’s another thing. Will feels bad enough about hiding the truth of his nature from his mom and from Jonathan, but that guilt is only exacerbated when it comes to Mike. If lying to other people is bad, lying to his best friend of almost 10 years is almost physically painful. It’s their thing, and, subsequently, their whole friend group(affectionately dubbed “the Party”)’s thing. But most importantly, Will and Mike don’t lie to each other; they just don’t.
So Will evades the topic in conversation and even in his own mind and prays that it would never have a reason to come up. Mike always understood him better than anyone, realizing things before anyone else, but Will always hopes that he’ll never realize that one thing about him.
After that arguably-not-that-mentally-taxing-but-still-coffeeless-day-at-school, Will is ready to collapse in his bed and sleep off his thoughts of deadlines and Mike and the looming dread of the knowledge that he’s going to school again tomorrow, but his brother, conveniently not having work that day, just has to throw a wrench in his plans.
“Hey.” Will lifts his head from where he was lying staring at the ceiling, about to close his eyes until he heard Jonathan’s familiar quiet voice. The sight of his older brother in the doorway greets him, his bulky camera bag strapped across his chest. “You don’t have any homework today, d’you?”
Will groans and squeezes his eyes shut.
“Please tell me you didn’t pick today of all days to drag me along to one of your photography spots,” he complains.
“What, you actually do? How evil are your teachers?”
“No, it’s much stupider than that. I’m just tired because having to wake up at 6:30 after sleeping in all break is screwing me over.” Jonathan chuckles breathily at that.
“C’mon. I have work all week. And you’re gonna like this one, I promise.”
“…Mmmh. Why not just go on the weekend?”
His brother rolls his eyes and lets out a fond sigh.
“Fine, I’ll buy you a coffee?” Jonathan offers.
Will immediately sits up, eliciting another teasing laugh out of his brother.
In truth, Will would’ve been happy to tag along basically any other day. He actually quite enjoys these little outings with Jonathan, marveling at whatever spot he managed to find that time and just basking in the presence of his older brother, one of his best friends. Playful banter livens the air between them as they walk the streets together, their own little warm bubble in the midst of the cold and unwaveringly busy city.
How Jonathan manages to find photogenic places in such a city is beyond him. It’s not like New York is without its charm—a splash of graffiti here, a smidge of old, intricate architecture sandwiched between two brick buildings there, but it’s no Norway with breathtaking, lush views or South America with vivid, picturesque landscapes. Finding someplace to practice photography in their monotonous neighborhood—something that doesn’t involve taking unprompted pictures of random people—is a feat that Will acknowledges.
They stop by the cafe on the way there, some overpriced place that they only ever get occasionally as a treat, where the coffee isn’t necessarily good but always serves as a welcome change from the cheap stuff their mom buys just to get their family through the week. In other words, the perfect bribe for a mentally and physically exhausted teenager who can’t be bothered with how late in the day it is for coffee. They sit in there awhile and talk about whatever comes to mind with comfortable periods of silence in between. Hanging out with Jonathan always comes with a quiet that doesn’t need to be disturbed, settling between them like a blanket being shared during a movie.
As they finish their coffees (a decision Will will probably regret later that night), they step out into the frigid air again and start towards Jonathan’s spot. The geometric shapes of the buildings stand rigidly around them, the air active with the hums and beeps of traffic and the murmurs of music as they pass some occasional rooftop party. The less-than-pleasant scent in New York’s air only gets worse in the subway, which isn’t Will’s favorite place in general, but being with his brother makes the experience more bearable.
Even though Will has never come clean to Jonathan about his secret, he’s fairly sure that if anyone has figured it out already (other than his dad, though that’s a whole other can of worms), it’s his older brother. He knows Will better than he knows himself sometimes, and it’s no coincidence. He shares more than just his looks with Jonathan; he’s inherited his music taste, some of his little mannerisms, his coping mechanisms, and perhaps even his general tendency to be either invisible or the victim of ridicule in social situations. The two of them seem to be on the same mental wavelength, and if Jonathan already knows… well, he’d be less surprised about the fact that he knows and more surprised about his decision not to reject Will or estrange him from his life.
Will is dragged back to reality by the soft sound of his brother’s voice.
“We’re almost there. I know it’s far, but I swear you’ll like it.”
As if on cue, the next corner they turn leads them to an alleyway enclave with a spray paint mural sprawled up on one wall, dragging away all attention from the gloomy corners of the alley and forgotten pieces of plastic or cardboard littering the ground. Illuminated by a faint gray glow from the sky above and adorned with a few trailing vines of foliage as if strategically placed by the universe, the artwork depicts a breathtaking landscape, a scene of contrast in color and brightness and saturation. The background is a distant land bathed in light gold and amber hues from a dawn’s sun, peeking over an azure, mountainous horizon. The foreground, however, strikes Will’s eyes with juxtaposition, darkened trees and treacherous undergrowth framing the distant sunrise, burnt maroons and muddy dark blues yet to be touched by the light nearly barring away the distant paradise, but keeping it just within sight. The story the artist meant to tell is a simple yet meaningful one, and it is not lost on Will as he breathlessly takes in every deliberate detail and intentional color choice.
As Will approaches the mural to take in its details more closely, awestruck, he suddenly understands why Jonathan wanted him to see this so badly. He smiles to himself at the image of his older brother finding this place and thinking of him, being eager enough to put a glimmer in his eye and a curl in his lips that he didn’t want to wait until the next time he was off work to drag him here. It makes Will’s chest feel fuzzy to think that he has people who care for him so deeply that it seems surreal, despite his struggles with bullies and his father in the past.
He can’t help but wonder how that would change if he were to come clean.
Will shoves the thought away, instead tracing some impressively-intricate lines—mind-blowingly so, considering the medium—on the graffiti mural.
“Pretty cool, huh?” Jonathan steps forward to stand beside his younger brother. The latter hums in agreement.
“I can’t even imagine how long this must’ve taken,” he says absentmindedly. “It’s beautiful.”
“Told you,” Jonathan replies, but his smile is more endeared than smug.
After a few more minutes admiring the artwork up close, Will backs away to look at it from afar as he aimlessly chats to Jonathan about colors of spray paint bottles just to fill the quiet while his older brother sets up his camera to start his mini-photoshoot. The clicks and shutters of the device squeeze themselves in the gaps between Will’s conversation and Jonathan’s trademark focusing-on-something hums of acknowledgement.
Will is fiddling with a styrofoam cup on the ground with his foot when he hears it—a distant, muffled, shriek-like roar, almost indiscernible over the rumble of traffic.
“Uh… Jonathan? Did you hear that?” Will’s voice comes out meeker than he intended it to, but that noise was just far too real, too loud, too isolated to have been something from someone’s TV with the volume too high. Plus, none of the nearby buildings look like apartments, a thought that only adds to his slowly-building dread.
Jonathan’s eyes are narrowed like he’s focused on listening, and he takes a breath as if to respond before another screech rings through the air, higher than the last, so feral and vicious that it vibrates the ground under their feet. Will feels his stomach plummet, any feeling that the sound might have come from a nearby-playing movie immediately shot down.
“…Yeah,” Jonathan breathes out at last, his gaze still stuck on the direction from which the sound originated. He glances over at Will apprehensively, jaw clenched and knuckles white from his grip on his camera. In that moment, an unspoken agreement passes between the two brothers’ fearful eyes, and Jonathan hastily shoves his camera back in his back, not bothering to check if it’s properly inside before zipping it up. Will makes just as much haste to pick up his bag and sling it over his shoulder when he stops in his tracks. His heart lurches as he stares down at the back of his own hand, his whole body tensing at the sight of a spider perched on the skin there.
His reflexes aren’t fast enough, he realizes, as he feels a twinge of pain on his hand so brief he wouldn’t have noticed it if he wasn’t looking at the spider who sunk its mandibles into his skin. He shudders as he smacks away the arachnid with his face scrunched in disgust and the slight concern of the possibility of having sustained a venomous bite. A concern that’s instantly launched onto the backburner of his mind as he hears a third distant shriek reverberate against the alleyway walls and his brother urging him to hurry up from behind him.
The adrenaline only wears off when he and Jonathan make it to the subway, both of them not having spoken a word since they left the mural. Will swallows as his older brother sits down beside him.
“You okay?” asks Jonathan softly, leaning in and placing a hand on Will’s shoulder. He blinks and looks over at the older boy, taking a slow, yet strained breath. He nods, not finding the strength to bring his voice to his throat. His thoughts are swimming in circles, his brow furrowed as he mulls over the echoing roars they’d heard and the definitely-not-a-black-widow-but-tentatively-venomous spider. Distantly he considers whether Dustin would know what kind of spider it was, but at the same time, he’s almost scared to know.
“What do you think that was?” Will asks after a long moment of deliberation, his voice barely louder than a murmur. Jonathan lets out a sputtering sigh, shaking his head.
“No idea,” he mutters back. “I mean, I know that place is near that lab, but—”
“What, the BREnergy one?” Will cuts in. Several instances of Dustin theorizing about possible science-fiction-grade experiments going on in the place spring to mind, which the rest of the Party had all brushed off as ridiculous. He grimaces as he notes to himself that maybe he should start trusting his friend’s wacky claims more often.
“Uh, yeah. I think that’s the one.” Jonathan sends him a questioning look.
“All my friends are nerds. Remember?” The older boy lets out a mildly-amused huff at that, nodding as he leans back in his seat. Will lets himself fall back into his thoughts while Jonathan unzips his bag and starts readjusting his camera inside. Both of them know the implications, and neither of them want to imagine the possibilities, much less voice them aloud and let them drift in the air where things solidified and became heavy enough to feel as if they were something physical.
The tension remained in Will’s shoulders until Jonathan opened the door to their family’s apartment, the keys jingling in the doorknob as it creaked. Will let out a breath in unison with the familiar sound, his muscles loosening.
“Is that you, boys?” Their mom’s voice rings out from the kitchen.
“Yeah, Mom, we’re home,” Jonathan responds, sounding wearier than usual, but still making an effort to project his voice across the small apartment.
Their mom greets them halfway across the living room, Bob in tow not far behind her. Her smile fades as he recognizes the less-than-enthusiastic looks on their faces, her fingers finding purchase on the sleeve of her thin green jacket where her arms are crossed.
“You both all right?” she asks, her voice adopting that familiar worried timbre. Will nods hesitantly alongside his brother.
“Just a bit tired,” Jonathan dismisses, sharing a glance with Will. He realizes it would probably be better not to tell her what happened, in case she, in her fussiness, decides not to let her two sons go on their little outings anymore.
Their mom blinks, probably picking up on the omission of details, but knowing them well enough not to push any further.
Will barely registers Bob greeting them with a “hey, boys,” only looking up when he hears his name. He peels his eyes away from where Jonathan is already stalking away down the hall and looks over at his mom’s boyfriend and possible stepdad-to-be.
“How was your first day back, Will?”
He gives responses to Bob’s and his mom’s questions that are just lengthy enough to keep them from worrying. Jonathan is still somewhat mistrustful of Bob, but he’s been with their mom for a few months now, and Will still hasn’t found any issues with the guy. His friendliness and lightheartedness might have been off-putting to his older brother, perhaps coming across to him as disingenuous, but so far Will doesn’t have a reason to believe it is. Maybe he’s being naive, but Bob makes their mom happy, and his disposition is such a stark contrast to their father’s. The fact that he’s also a bit of a nerd doesn’t hurt either.
Will’s head is still swirling with the events of the day by the time he lies down for bed. Despite the exhaustion of school and whatever happened after, he tosses and turns in bed, occasionally staring over at the red numbers on his alarm clock. He starts to regret the caffeinated drink from earlier as he tries to wrangle himself into some state of sleep.