Nancy’s smile felt like home. It did that night and it did now as they were lying next to each other on the silicon bedding of their cryo pods.
“I can feel the neck pain already”, Mike muttered, squirming on top of the semi comfortable surface. He was trying to sound as chill as possible in an attempt to suppress the tingling anxiety that was raging inside his belly.
“Five minutes in and you’re already complaining”, Nancy retorted with a roll of her eyes. “Glad we’re gonna be asleep during this. I couldn’t take six years of your whining.”
Mike made a face at her while he still could. He knew the pods were about to close soon. They’d go to sleep. For six years. Six fucking years. God, what was he doing here?
‘To all passengers, please assume position inside your assigned cryo pods as they are about to close shortly. Further instructions will follow once you are secured inside. Our medical staff will make sure you…’
“Fuck”, Mike mutterd, squeezing his eyes shut, his stomach doing several turns.
He was doing this. He was actually doing this. He was about to leave earth, leave behind everything he’s ever known. And somehow he’s dragged Nancy into thi–
“Hey.” His sister’s voice had that warm tone again, like back when they had been laughing together on their couch, when this whole entire mission was still a vague thing of the future.
“Mike”, Nancy said emphatically. “Look at me.”
So Mike did. He looked at her and to his surprise he didn’t find a single hint of glee in her face. Instead there was a small smile on Nancy’s lips, one that said that everything was gonna be okay.
“We’re actually doing this”, Mike said dryly. “We’re insane.”
She laughed and it caused the skin around her eyes to crinkle, dimples showing on her cheeks. Even in this harsh white light of the space shuttle the color of her eyes looked warm and reassuring and never before had Mike been so glad to have his big sister by his side.
“We are insane”, Nancy agreed, reaching out her hand towards him. “For Holly.”
Right. Mike was doing this for his little sister. So she could get into a better program, so she could hopefully be healthy one day. He was doing this for Holly. And Nancy was doing this for him.
“For Holly”, he said, taking her hand.
And in this moment, Mike wished that he had the courage to tell his sister just how much he loved her. How endlessly grateful he was to have her by his side, to not have to step into this next chapter of his life all on his own. But just as he opened his mouth in an attempt to put all of it into words the mechanical voice echoed through the air yet again.
‘Please lay still and hold your limbs close to your body. The pods close in ten, nine, eight…’
Time was up. So instead of saying anything at all, Mike squeezed his sister’s hand tight, hoping it somehow conveyed everything he had to say to her. But judging by the way Nancy’s eyes softened, the way she squeezed back just as hard, he guessed she got it anyway.
“See you in a minute, sis”, he said, reluctantly letting go of her as they were slowly pulled into their separate pods.
“See you in a minute, jerk”, Nancy said, also pulling back her hand.
They laughed.
The last thing Mike saw before his life stopped for six years was his sister’s smile.
Mike was forcefully pushed against the couch, forced to squeeze his eyes shut as the whiplash hit him. His head was spinning like crazy, his heart thundering away in his chest and just what the hell was happening right now?
“El!” He heard Hopper groan next to him as he tried to get up. “What –”
But Eleven only stuck out her hand, pinning the man against the overturned couch right next to Mike.
“Urgh…what the–”
Mike looked up to find Hopper’s beloved armchair sliding across the floor, straight towards them, followed by pretty much every other piece of furniture inside this goddamn living room. He barely even had time to feel surprised or even think about screaming before they were all stacked in front and on top of him, effectively pushing him and Hopper down.
“El!”, Hopper yelled somewhere inside the pile, his voice outraged and causing Mike’s ear to ring. The man started struggling immediately, to no avail of course. Not even his six feet and three inches of muscle were a match for an entire living room interior.
“Stay down!”, El ordered, eyes fixed onto the bedroom door, body tense and ready to attack.
Mike was too perplexed to move or even say anything. So he just kept sitting there on the floor, his legs and torso caged in by dusty furniture, trying to make sense of his situation.
Around them the lamps started flickering again, creating a stroboscopic effect that threw Mike even further off balance. Before he could even try and start comprehending any part of what just happened, Joyce’s voice cut through the chaos.
“Will!”, she called. “Where are you going?”
And then there he was; Will, awake and alive – thank God he’s alive! – charging into the living room, eyes wide and – wait a fucking minute.
They were off. Will’s eyes were off.
Mike was pinned beneath a wall of furniture that his angry almost ex-girlfriend had dropped onto him for no obvious reason. Then there was Hopper stuck next to him, who was continuously ramming his elbow into Mike’s hip as he tried to break free. And oh right, he’d been tossed through the room only moments ago.
His brain wasn’t anywhere near caught up on the situation, but Will’s eyes! That’s what he was focusing on.
His Master’s wrath knew no end. He was all knowing, all seeing, pure strength – he was power incarnate. And yet he was stuck here, caged in this empty world, on a planet he had already devoured, a dimension utterly harvested. All prey hunted and all life fed on and still. Still the hunger prevailed, deep and aching. A painful, gaping nothing that drove him mad, pushed him to the edge of despair, but never granting the relief of the fall. The relief of an end.
He could not remember his beginning and he knew there would not be an end. Death would never find him and so he was left starving, aching for the sweet taste of warm blood, spilling from writhing flesh. For the thrilling screams of a dying thing. The vision of intelligent eyes as life drained from them.
He was the single entity in all of existence that deeply and truly ached for its end. And yet he was damned to persist, to endure this endless, eternal hunger. Ripping the life from those who so desperately clung to it, his sole consolation.
His head felt like it was about to burst. Too much information in too little time. He didn’t want to see this, he didn’t want to know, he didn’t want to understand the monster that had made his life a living hell. He rejected it, his mind fighting against the altered point of view.
Please, Will begged, his voice a sound without a body, as he kept falling and falling and falling through memories. Stop it. Please.
I’m sorry, Henry answered, his voice echoing through this cramped empty space. But I need you to understand.
And Will desperately wished for lungs to scream, for eyes to cry, for fingers to dig into his skull as images kept flashing before him.
Warm breath hit his face, foul and moist and dead, and it was over. Will knew it was over. And still he strained against crawling vines, determined to fight, to deny Vecna’s will. Even as heat exploded behind his eyes, blood spilling from the sockets. Even as a scream broke free from the depths of his chest, Will kept fighting on, slowing Vecna down.
…The more this will hurt.
In the end he broke easily.
The last thing Will felt was Vecna penetrating his mind, prodding and swelling and leaving no room, until everything slipped away. Every memory of warm hands and soft eyes, familiar faces and smiles - all was gone. Will was gone.
And what remained was the gaping feeling of perpetual hunger. The frenzied need to devour all that existed, to spread and consume until all was one and all was him.
He raced along bleak hallways, hunting for the fox. The little, pesky thing that kept getting in his way. The girl, the bitch, the insect that just wouldn’t die. Oh, how he hated her. Max - the one that was taken from him by her. Eleven.
The fox was her friend, her protegee, her favorite. Taking her would hurt, weaken his bothersome, little enemy.
And oh, he could feel her now. The fox, she was close. He could hear her beating, living heart, the hot rush of her blood, the soft and even gush of her breath.
Max would die tonight and he would gorge himself on her taste. He would let her suffer, rip her open and tear the flesh from her bones. Slowly. He would make her scream and relish the sound of it. Finally - finally - he would take her, make her his.
She was the needle in his eye, the itch that just could not be sated. Max was the madness that kept crawling inside his mind and tonight he would rid himself of her. Crush her beneath his feet like the filthy, little creature that she was.
He ran up a staircase and he was close. Oh, he was close now. He could smell the oils of her skin, he could practically taste her on his tongue. Almost, almost…
But just as he was to reach the next floor, his vision blurred. First at the edges, taking away his orientation. He crashed into something solid - a wall most likely - but he almost didn’t feel the impact. When he tried to blink his eyes, he had to watch as his vision filled with fog. Thick and milky red clouding his mind.
Something was wrong, he realized with growing concern. He was drifting away. Away from the hospital, away from the fox, away from revenge. No, no, no!
In front of him a scene started to form. He felt his grip slip away and his heart pooled with rage, seething and aggravating, pumping through his bloodstream. This wasn’t right. He was the one in control. The boy couldn’t possibly shut him out. He was weak, he had always been weak. So what? What…
Warm breath hit his face, foul and moist and dead, and it was over. Will knew it was over. And still he strained against crawling vines, determined to fight, to deny Vecna’s will. Even as heat exploded behind his eyes, blood spilling from the sockets. Even as a scream broke free from the depths of his chest, Will kept fighting on, slowing Vecna down.
…The more this will hurt.
In the end he broke easily.
Or:
Will is forced to be Vecna's spy. Just as he is losing grip on his own mind a voice breaks throught the fog. The voice belonging to some strange boy, who for some reason is unable to maintain eye contact or give straight answers.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“Why you?”, she asked eventually and Mike’s stomach dropped through the floor. “Why… like how did they even think of you? Did you apply to a program without telling us? I mean what are you even supposed to do up there?”
“Sit down honey, will you?”, his father said, once more not looking up from his chicken.
“Ted, I swear to God-”
“They want me as a negotiator”, Mike said, before she could snap entirely. “You know…to break a deal with the blue people.”
“Of course you’re allowed to talk to him”, his mother said. “But quit pressuring him into getting a job.”
“He’s been unemployed for two years, Karen.”
“He’s writing books."
“Which barely sell.” His father put down his fork, forgetting about his chicken for a moment. “Look, I’m not trying to be the asshole here, but at some point we gotta face reality. Our son is twenty four years old and can barely pay rent. I said nothing when he moved back in with us two years ago, but for how long are we supposed to support this kind of lifestyle-”
“For gods’ sake, Ted!” His mom slammed her hand down onto the table. The sudden noise made Holly jump in her seat. “He’s our son! Why is it so hard for you to show a little empathy for your own son?”
“Of course”, Ted murmured, picking back up his fork. “This again. He’s depressed and we have to support him no matter what.” He continued eating his chicken. “I’m the asshole for wanting him to make something out of his life.”
Mike was used to his parents fighting over his head like this. He had also grown weirdly numb to his father’s words over the years. Whenever they started fighting, he simply lowered his head and started pushing food around on his plate, waiting for it to be over.
He knew the numbness he felt was his brain’s way of protecting itself and he knew his father’s lash out was only misplaced frustration. Ted Wheeler was deeply dissatisfied with his own life, but it was easier to focus on his son’s mistakes than admitting to himself that he was stuck.
When you were stuck - imprisoned if you will - you had three ways to deal with your situation. You could fight and break free. You could run and escape. Or you could conform, accept the prison you’re stuck in. His father had clearly chosen the last option. And with every passing day, Mike feared that he had settled for the same thing.
Having a bachelor’s degree in psychology sucked. Thanks to it, Mike didn’t have the luxury of simply being miserable. No, he was aware of his misery, he knew the reason for his misery and he understood that he had simply settled for staying miserable.
Mike also knew what he needed to break free from it. And he knew that he would never find it here, with his family. Or with anyone else he knew. He understood that he had simply settled for the path of least resistance. Just like his father.
All the more reason to take the offer he’s been made.
You literally couldn't guess what kind of fic this is for if you tried.😂
“Hey, Will”, she said, leaning back her head until they were looking at each other upside down.
“Hm?”, he asked, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.
His cheeks were all rosy from laughing and the corners of his mouth were stuck in a constant smile. Robin couldn’t help but smile herself at seeing her friend this happy.
“Mind sharing?”, she asked.
“Huh?” Will, tipsy as he was, needed a moment to understand what she wanted from him. “Oh, yeah sure.” He quickly unwrapped a piece of chocolate and held it out for her.
Robin, still way too comfortable to move, simply opened her mouth, waiting for him to feed her. Which Will did with an amused little snort. Robin had to laugh as she started chewing.
“Than’s”, she said around a mouth full of chocolate.
“You’re welcome”, Will smiled.
She lifted her head back up as slow as possible, but still had to squint her eyes closed in order to stop the room from spinning. Damn, she really should go eat something real to counter the beer.
She waited for the dizziness to fade before slowly blinking her eyes open and whoa.
Baby Wheeler was staring daggers at her. Like make one wrong move and I’ll end you daggers, and Robin couldn't do much but stare right back at him, blinking in surprise.
She blinked. And she blinked again.
Robin figured that alcohol made them both a little slow. Mike needed about two more blinks from her until he noticed what he was doing. When he did though, his eyes grew wide with shock and he quickly averted his gaze, cheeks burning up to a bright shade of pink.
Interesting, Robin thought to herself, her mind sliding right towards an epiphany.
Chapter 2 out now:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“Language”, Steve said, clearly annoyed. “You should slow it, Wheeler. You’re already on beer three.”
“Can you stop being such a mom?”
“Well, I’m so sorry for being the only responsible adult in this room, but you guys are like sixteen. Also where the hell did Murray go?”
“Mooooooooooom”, Mike drawled, his head lolling back as he rolled his eyes very dramatically.
Robin had to bite back another snort when she saw the giant side eye Eleven was shooting her boyfriend. She clearly wasn’t a fan of the drunk version of Baby Wheeler.
Meanwhile Will only chuckled at Mike’s antics, throwing a wrapped piece of chocolate at him. “You should listen to him Mike, you’re already crosseyed.”
“Huh?” Baby Wheeler’s head snapped back up, his eyes growing big and his brows shooting up almost all the way to his hairline when the whiplash hit him. “Uhhhhh”, he groaned, actually turning crosseyed now. “Too fast.”
And this time Will full on laughed. Like fullheartedly laughed.
Wow.
Baby Wheeler was making a total butt of himself and still Will was head over heels for the guy. The complete opposite to Eleven, who was still eying her boyfriend - at this point Robin really started to doubt their relationship status - like he was a crazy person.
“God damn it, Wheeler”, Steve muttered and when she looked up at him, Robin found him pinching the bridge of his nose. The thing he only did when he was feeling stressed. “Nancy’s gonna kill me.”
“Then she’s gonna have to kill the both of us”, Robin said with a pat to his thigh that was supposed to cheer him up. “Want some?” She shoved her beer can into his face.
“No thanks”, Steve muttered, slumping over and burying his face in his hands. “How is this my life?”
“Come on, Stevo”, Robin said, patting him on the back now. “Don’t act so depressed. Remember you could be dead now.”
He slowly turned his head towards her, an incredulous expression on his face. “Thanks”, he said flatly. “You just always know how to cheer me up.”
“That’s what I’m here for”, she said, making a point out of grinning up at him way too brightly.
It actually got a chuckle out of him.
“Are we wrestling now or what?”, Lucas asked.
“I’m hungry”, El complained.
“I’m starving”, Dustin agreed.
“I’m seeing double”, Mike added.
Will started laughing again.
“I’m going insane”, Steve said next to her.
“Steeeeeeeve”, Dustin whined. “Feed us!”
This part isn't out yet, but if you're interested here's the link to chapter 1 of 'Drunk Gate' on ao3:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“They probably just wanted some alone time”, Will murmured as he took the can from Mike’s hand, their fingers brushing.
Brushing.
How was nobody picking up on this?! The frustration made Robin ache for a beer herself.
“Really?”, Steve asked with his arms crossed when she grabbed a can from the table. “You too?”
“Sorry”, she said without feeling sorry at all. “You’d understand if you knew what I’m going through right now.”
He only frowned at her with a clueless expression on his face. Robin shot him a quick smile before taking her first sip.
Or:
After Will saves everyone from the Demos he’s out for several days. Robin makes some discoveries about a certain Baby Wheeler and starts counting snowballs. Just as she’s about to go insane with the two boys’ obliviousness, everyone decides to get drunk and new possibilities arise.
Lucas was practically flying down the stairs when he saw his friend awake and well on the couch. He ran towards Will at full speed, never even slowing down before he flung himself into his friend's arms.
“You’re okay! Thank God, you're okay!”
With a mix of shock and joy on his face Will started laughing.
“Happy to see you too”, he smiled, closing his arms around him to return the hug.
Robin, who was sitting on the couch opposite to them couldn't help but smile at the endearing scene in front of her. Seeing the boys reunite made her miss Steve even more.
Telling herself that her best friend was fine and she would be seeing him again soon, Robin shifted her gaze towards Mike, who was sitting right next to Will. Like right next to him.
Even as Will was lovingly smothered by their friend, Mike kept his knee pressed against Will’s. He didn’t even seem to notice what he was doing since he was busy staring daggers at Lucas.
Mike seemed irritated, Robin thought with new curiosity. His brow pinched just slightly, a displeased crease between his eyes. Again, he didn’t even seem to notice when he put one of his hands on Will’s shoulder, his fingers gripping down ever so slightly and ruffling the fabric of his shirt.
“Jesus, let him breathe man”, Mike said just on the edge of snappy, tugging Will back towards him. Gently so, but still.
It reminded Robin of a child who refused to share its favorite toy. Almost like Baby Wheeler was marking his territory.
“Okay, okay.” There was the ghost of a smirk on Lucas’ lips when he finally let go of Will. “No need to be a bitch, Mike.”
Robin frowned. There was something in Lucas’ face as he settled down next to Will just a little too close and Robin could swear that she could see the spark of a challenge inside his eyes as he kept looking at Mike. Like he was baiting him.
“I’m not a bitch”, Mike muttered gloomily.
“You so are.” Lucas readjusted his position, accidentally nudging Will’s knee in the process.
He knows, Robin realized in that moment, her eyes growing big.
The following argument was as meaningless as it was entertaining to watch. Baby Wheeler and Lucas kept berating each other with Will caved in between them. The boy’s head was constantly turning as he tried to follow the heated conversation between his two friends, a mix of confusion and amusement on his face.
Will was absolutely oblivious to what was going on and Robin had to suppress the urge to slam her face into the next best cushion and just scream. Instead she sat there, simply watching the scene with a pained smile and a silent prayer at the universe to end her suffering.
And the universe actually answered.
Robin is going crazy with the teenage drama. Luckily her mental support Steve is on the way.
“They’re for you actually”, Mike muttered and was that embarrassment Robin could hear in his voice? “Thought it might … cheer you up a little.”
A stutter. Mike was stuttering over getting his best friend his favorite candy. A perfectly nice and normal thing for a friend to do. So, why was he acting like he was handing a corsage to his prom date?
Snowball, Robin thought. Snowball, snowball, snowball!
“Uhm …” This time Will seemed perplexed for a whole other reason. “Thanks”, he mumbled as he accepted the offered gift and the little smile on his face was equal parts bewilderment and endearment. “That’s … thanks.”
Both boys were blushing way too hard over this and the sight was so tooth rottingly sweet that Robin just wanted to bite them.
Their eyes met for a moment. One lingering, awkward moment in which they just stared at each other and Robin actually had to turn away to keep herself from making a sound. Her heart was racing. Why was her heart racing?
Back at the hospital when they had talked about snowballs and avalanches, Will had asked her how obvious the signs needed to get in order to be sure.
Well how much more obvious can it get?
Working on something. I need something sweet and wholesome before vol. 2 rips me into pieces.
A short Analysis of his charakter and his dynamic with Joyce and Will:
(slight spoilers for season 5 vol.1)
I don’t really know where to start, so I’m just gonna start with this: Jonathan is a glass child. BIG TIME!
The show has never made an obvious issue out of it, but if you’re a die hard fan and went through several rewatches you just HAVE to pick up on this dynamic in the Byers family.
Before I get into it I want to make clear that I love Joyce Byers as a character! She’s a strong woman who loves her kids fiercely, but like every good character she has flaws. This becomes clear in her dynamic with Jonathan.
I’m gonna give several examples now (the quotes aren’t exactly like in the show, bc I’m not gonna look up every single detail for the sake of this rant, but the essence should be the same).
We can catch a whiff of this dynamic in the very first episode of the show.
The morning after Will goes missing, Joyce enters the kitchen and asks Jonathan where Will is. When Jonathan tells her he doesn’t know because he’s been picking up a few more shifts, she doesn’t get mad or anything but she’s clearly frustrated with him.
“I told you you can't take shifts while I’m working. I can’t believe you.”
She repeats this several times.
Mind you, in this scene, Jonathan was preparing breakfast for his little brother. Whether he took this extra shift to support his hard working mom or to buy himself a tiny bit of independence doesn’t matter. He gets dismissed for striving for more, because Joyce expects him to take care of his little brother while she’s away.
Later, after it’s clear that Will is missing and they are looking through photos of him, Joyce even acknowledges that she’s been missing out on Jonathan’s life. So, she herself is aware of the issue to some extent.
“I should have been there more.”
Jonathan immediately reassures her though, because that’s simply what he’s learned over the years of being the older brother in an abusive household.
As long as Lonnie still lived with them, he was Will’s protector. After Lonnie left, he kind of tried to fill his place. He’s the supporter of both his mom and his little brother. I do believe he chose to take this role out of his own free will by the way. Still, it’s a difficult part to fill for a literal minor.
Jonathan being the family’s supporter becomes clear in the rest of the season. He has to watch his mom ‘go insane’, leaving him alone and with no support of his own. He has to plan his brother’s funeral all by himself to relieve his mom from the burden of it.
Again, he chooses all of this voluntarily, but in my opinion that makes it even more tragic.
To give Joyce the credit she deserves, there are several moments where she clearly cares about her oldest son, for example after he was beat up by Steve.
But in general it is clear that Will is her priority. It makes sense after everything that happened in season one and two. She came so close to losing Will several times, it’s just natural that her entire focus shifts towards him. Towards every little change, every cough, every tear or moodswing.
The experiences she made caused her to keep a close eye on Will and that’s valid. She should make sure that he’s safe. Only she pretty much forgets about Jonathan most of the time and it becomes worse with every season.
In season four, Joyce doesn’t even catch on to how stoned Jonathan is most of the time. Even Murray who visits them ONCE for dinner immediately realizes when he’s sitting at their table.
And again, I get it. Joyce is busy. She has three kids to raise now and suddenly there is the possibility of Hopper still being alive. There’s a lot going on, I get it.
But if coming home stoned doesn’t get your mom’s attention, then what will?
Also, in season 4 we learn about the plan Jonathan and Nancy have: for the both of them to get into Emerson College and start building a life together. But while Nancy follows through, Jonathan only applies to local community colleges, close to where his family lives.
He still feels responsible for Will and his mom. He’s played the part of being a supporter for so long he even compromises his future with the woman he loves. Again, he is not forced to choose this path, he does so out of his free will.
But in my opinion this only shows how deep his feelings of responsibility run. He’s played this part so long that now he just can’t let go. He’s been there for the two of them his entire life, it’s become a part of him, the one part he probably defines himself over the most.
Okay, getting back on track. Now in season 5 vol.1 the dynamic I described so far becomes clearer than ever.
Now with Vecna as a threat, Joyce focusses even more on Will. Of course she does! The evil monster who kidnapped her boy lives pretty much next door, ready to take him at any given moment.
Actually, the scene where I started cooking up this essay was when the gang was discussing the next Crawl and Dustin couldn’t make it in time. Will suggested taking Dustin’s place and driving in the van with Steve, but Joyce immediately shut down his idea.
Too dangerous.
But hey Jonathan, you can do it, right?
I have several issues with this. For one, it suggests that the idea of Will putting himself in harm’s way is a no go, but for Jonathan it’s alright. Ouch.
Second of all, who’s driving the van? Steve.
Who also happens to be Jonathan’s rival and a threat to his already difficult relationship with Nancy. Of course Jonathan doesn’t want to be in close quarters with him, let alone cooperate with him.
But, as expected, Jonathan agrees because Will means the world to him and he’d never do or say anything to put him in danger or make him upset. But the obvious annoyance is clear on his face.
Still Joyce doesn’t seem to pick up on his displeasure.
Which brings me to the question: Does Joyce even know about Jonathan’s relationship struggles? Has she picked up on anything at all? Has she bothered to ask?
I mean we even see Murray (who isn’t even family) talk to Jonathan about his relationship, but his own mother? Nothing.
And to close the circle: I think the show is going to address this dynamic for the first time this season. I don’t know how exactly, but I think in some way Jonathan, who has suffered quietly for years, will finally confront Joyce on it.
For the first time she will actually realize how she subconsciously treated her oldest son like an afterthought through all those years. And maybe for the first time, Jonathan will ask for the recognition he so clearly deserves for everything he’s done for his family.
And then BAM.
Joyce will lose the son she expected to be safe this whole time. The son she just assumed to be okay because it’s Jonathan, her responsible, capable boy. The son who didn’t need her protection as much.
And it will be because Jonathan is protecting someone he loves. Maybe Nancy. Maybe his mom and brother. Maybe all of them.
Jonathan will sacrifice his life for the sake of his loved ones just one more time. Only this time it’s in the literal sense.
Mike swallowed against the lump in his throat. He so, so desperately wanted to protect Will. From Vecna, from the nightmares, from everything out there that wanted to hurt them, but he could just sit here and watch him break and do absolutely nothing about it.
All he could do was wipe his tears as they kept falling, until Mike could feel his own eyes burning with them.
He had to promise Will to not tell anyone. Not Joyce, not Jonathan, not even El. Mike probably should’ve tried harder to convince him otherwise, but a part of him - a selfish part - liked the idea of being the only one allowed to see Will this way.
He felt awful for even thinking stuff like that, but after all this time apart, after all this time shutting himself off from his best friend, Mike ached to feel close to Will again. So if Will asked him to keep his nightmares a secret, Mike wouldn’t do anything to break his trust.
Instead he’d stay awake with Will till late at night, playing Uno or thinking up ideas for new campaigns. Just like back when they’d been kids. Only Will's eyes looked more tired now, his smile always holding a faint anxiety to it. It only encouraged Mike to make up wilder stories with bigger enemies and weirder side characters.
Anything to make Will smile just a little wider, roll his eyes just a little harder.
And for a while it worked.
For moments at a time Mike saw the old Will shine through. The boy who had loved to race his friends on his bike. Who’s biggest worries had been whether to seek shelter or cast fireball.
Will’s nightmares didn't magically disappear, but with every time Mike shook him awake it would take a little less time to calm him back down. Everything was far from okay, but at least they had found a way to cope with the situation for the time being.
Christmas had always been Eddie’s favorite time of the year. Really, the kid had been obsessed with it.
Not that he had much of a family to celebrate with. It only ever really had been him and Wayne but that always seemed to be enough for his nephew.
Every year, around the middle of November the kid would dig out the old tapes with christmas songs on them that Wayne had saved from the happier times of his own childhood. By the time the actual holiday came around, Wayne would be more than sick of the ‘The Chipmunk Song’ playing over and over again through their home.
Wayne always waited for one of his rare days off to hang up the Christmas lights around the trailer, so Eddie would see them first thing after coming home from school. His nephew’s big smile and sparkling eyes always had been more than enough of a reward for Wayne.
After taking Eddie in and finding out about his fascination with the holiday Wayne even asked Irene, the sweet secretary at Tatcher’s Tires for the receipt of the christmas cookies she brought to work every year.
At first she was reluctant of course but all Wayne really had to do was to tell her about the little boy he had at home, who adored her ‘yummy’ cookies so much. Irene melted on the spot.
It saved Wayne the time of looking up recipes in the library or spending his short income on baking books.
“Make sure to leave the dough in the fridge for one night before you tell your boy about it”, Irene had said with a warm smile on her face. “Kids are mostly just interested in cutting out the little figures. The waiting makes them cranky.”
Wayne listened to her advice and presented the prepared dough to Eddie, the following Saturday morning.
The boy was thrilled and Wayne had realized with a painful pang inside his chest that no one ever made an effort in baking cookies with the seven year old. Not even during Christmas time.
They spent one whole morning, cutting out figures and decorating them with colorful icing and sprinkles. The trailer then was filled with the smell of slightly burnt cookies the following days, but that didn’t matter. Christmas baking became a tradition and the cookies turned out less and less burnt over the years.
Wayne remembered all of this.
The silly Chipmunk Song playing on loop. Crumbs of burnt cookies on the front porch where Eddie had left them for hungry pigeons that never seemed to find their way to the trailer. Wayne would put them away anyways to make his boy believe the birds had found his present.
He remembered crayons and half finished drawing all over the living room, later to be replaced by sheets of half finished campaigns.
He remembered Eddie. At seven. At twelve. At nineteen.
He remembered Eddie.
And now, standing with his back to the sink of this new trailer that looked exactly the same as the one he had watched Eddie grow up in, Wayne remembered that he was gone.
His boy was gone.
Skipped through an old notebook of mine and found this fic idea inside. Later on there's gonna be Dustin and Steve, oh and also Steddie is a thing. If I actually finish it I'm gonna upload it around Christmas.
I'm so ready to be sucked back into the Stranger Things Fandom.
Mike looked back over his shoulder to find his sister’s jaw clenched, her brows furrowed and her eyes way too big. She looked calm but scared, like something horrible just dawned on her.
“What’s going on?”, Mike asked, concern in his voice. He kept looking back and forth between the two of them, but nobody would answer him.
It was like Will and Nancy were having a quiet conversation. One that Mike wasn’t supposed to be a part of. He didn’t know why, but he felt his blood freeze inside his veins.
Something was off. Something was so horribly off.
Or: Vecna takes hold of Will and forces him to attack his friends. Mike finds him in the woods and realizes too late that his best friend and sister have a secret agreement.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“Should get dressed”, Brad murmured in that sleep drunken voice as he smiled up at him through heavy lidded eyes. “Or I’ll keep you here.”
Max smiled, gently putting down Bradley’s hand to rest on the sheets, so he could place both his elbows to either side of Brad's head. Their legs tangled together beneath the sheets as he was lying half atop of him now. A slight giggle escaped the boy beneath him as Max leaned in to brush their noses together and Max felt drunk on the sound.
“You know I’d love to stay”, he whispered against Bradley’s lips, smiling as he felt Brad’s breath hitch, body tensing beneath him. “See you later?”
Blue eyes locked onto his, searching for something there. Max was pretty sure Bradley found what he was looking for when he felt slim but firm fingers at the back of his neck, pulling him down into a deep kiss.
Bradley initiating physical contact was a rarity on its own, let alone the ferocity he was leading with. Max pretty much melted on top of him as Brad's fingers fisted in his hair, pulling him down to bring their mouths together in a firm slide, lips parting immediately, breath mixing hotly between them.
Max didn't even try to hold in the deep sigh that fell from his lips as Bradley’s tongue caressed him with a prodding invitation. He was afraid to crush Brad beneath him, but his arms felt like jelly all of a sudden, his head heavy as he pressed down, down, down to get as close as possible.
Mind fuzzy, body limp, Max let himself drown in Brad, completely lost to the world. There was nothing but the beautiful boy beneath him, who held him close, who pulled him tight, whose skin was so incredibly soft and warm beneath his fingers, who somehow tasted of love and butterflies despite their morning breath.
Only Brad and the tingling sensation spreading from Max’ belly through his entire body. Only Brad and their shared breath, thick air that reached his lungs but left him breathless still.
At some point Max felt like he was about to suffocate, but still he was unable to pull away. Like a drowning sailor, lured by the siren song. If suffocation was the price for having Bradley kiss him this way, Max would gladly pay it.
But before it could get this far, they were startled by loud cluttering from outside. They broke apart, gasping for air, Brad’s hands still in Max’ hair and their foreheads aligned as they tried to catch their breath.
“Shit!”, Roxanne’s distressed voice rang through the apartment.
Still panting pretty badly Bradley frowned up at Max. “She better not make a mess of my kitchen.”
Max couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up his chest at the sight; Brad, all disheveled hair and kiss-swollen lips, looking awfully pissed at the thought of somebody messing with his kitchen. He still felt pretty dizzy, unable to wipe the dopey grin from his face.
“Nah, that’s my job, remember?”, he asked, pressing a tiny peck on the top of Bradley’s nose.
“Ha-ha.” Brad gave him an annoyed look, hands sliding out of Max’ hair now. But Max saw the smile on his lips, even if he tried to hide it. “You should get dressed.” The corners of his mouth jumped, dark blue eyes glancing down at Max’ lips. “Think you already took more than five minutes.”
Brad bit his lower lip in order to suppress the mischievous grin that tried to spread on his lips and Max could only shake his head smiling. There was a jealous side to Bradley and Max had to admit it was kinda hot.
“Best five minutes of my life”, he grinned, leaning down to press one last kiss to the corner of Bradley’s mouth. His chest grew all warm and fuzzy when it made Brad giggle.
God, he loved that boy. And today was the day he would finally tell him.
“Not sure if I’ll find anything in my wardrobe though”, Max said teasingly, and when Brad only frowned up at him he hooked a finger into the collar of his own shirt that Braldey was currently wearing. “Keep stealing my stuff”, he said. “I love this look on you.”
The moment was over when Bradley flushed bright pink and shoved a hand into Max’ face out of embarrassment. “Just get off me, Goof!"
