Chapter Text
It’s hot. It’s not any hotter than California, but something about the way the sun hits the yellow sand of the Nevada desert is different than the way it hits the crisp grass of Lenora Hills.
Motionless cars circle around him and the shiny black SUV he’s sitting atop, one leg bent against his chest and the other dangling down, almost close enough to brush the dust below but falling short an inch or two. He doesn’t remember whose car this is.
Mike is… fine. He’s content, which is more than he could’ve hoped to say an hour earlier, but it doesn’t feel like enough.
He watches as El reunites with everyone. She laughs even as the drying tears on her face glisten and her smile stretches across her blotchy cheeks, unobscured by any wisps of hair. She’s beautiful.
So, why isn’t he ecstatic?
Mike had just traveled over four hundred miles—that’s over six hours hunkered down in the backseat of a goddamn pizza delivery van while sitting a foot away from his best friend, with two of the world’s most obnoxious stoners piloting the thing all the way there—and that’s only a third of what he’s traveled by pizza delivery van in the past few days.
He did all of that willingly just to get El back to safety and into his arms again, but here he sits on the hood of a car, overheated and arms empty.
He watches as Eddie, who’s here for some reason that he really should’ve been paying more attention to when it was being explained to him, punches Steve in the arm for saying something stupid. He watches Dustin punch him too, then Robin.
It’s a really long and stupidly oversaturated story, but they’re all here now.
Dustin, Lucas, Max, Nancy, Steve, Erica, and Robin are here from back home in Hawkins. Oh, yeah, and Eddie—again, he’s not really sure why.
Mrs. Byers and Hopper, who, woah, he needs time to unpack that whole ordeal, are here from Russia, apparently. He thinks they’re all wanted criminals now? He’s a little fuzzy on the details.
He, Will, Jonathan, and Argyle are here from Salt Lake City in Utah. Actually, they’re here from California then from Utah… They’re here from both.
Lastly, Eleven has been here the whole time, because the old lab people have been keeping her in a secret underground facility in the middle of nowhere, Nevada, to restore her powers. NINA, it seems, was her friend all along.
Everyone’s crowded around with their cars scattered and abandoned in favor of catching up with each other, and for some, meeting for the first time. There’s a closed or shut-down gas station a few hundred yards from where they stand, but other than that there’s nothing around for miles except smooth fine sand, the slopes of hills, and a nearly clear sky.
It’s been rough for all of them, they deserve this calmer lull.
Mike’s the only one by his lonesome.
It’s been at least a few days since he’s had a proper shower—he’s only been able to wipe down his sweaty neck and whatever other visible parts of his body with paper towels in the rare clean convenience store bathroom they came across during their trip. He feels gross, and he probably is gross.
He already said hello to everyone. He just wants to sit right now.
It’s just... He feels weird, and he doesn’t know why. “Weird” has been his primary emotion for at least a year now but it’s been a lot worse the past week. It’s probably just the excitement of seeing El and the stress of everything that came right after it.
God, the sun really does feel different here, doesn’t it? Even the sky seems off.
“Hi.”
He feels someone plop down next to him on his left, disturbing the hood of the car before it adjusts itself to the new weight, squeaking, and Mike takes a second before he looks over to the source of the sound.
“Oh. Hey, Will.”
“Did I interrupt something? You seemed pretty deep in thought there.”
Will knocks his shoulder against Mike’s while his arms lay stiffly in his lap and his legs hang down, matching the position of one of Mike’s. Mike switches to put both his legs up against his chest now.
He keeps forgetting how deep Will’s voice has gotten, and it’s kind of unnerving, but not bad.
“Um, sort of. It’s whatever.” He thinks about knocking Will’s shoulder back, but instead he just shrugs a little.
Will’s eyebrows twitch almost imperceptibly and he asks, “You okay?”
Mike wishes he would break eye contact with him for just a second because he feels a little suffocated. He also feels just a little bit like he can breathe even clearer now.
He looks down at his lap. “I’m just… I—don’t know.” It’s not dishonest, it’s about the best description of his feelings he can come up with right now.
He hangs one of his legs back down, the opposite of the one before, and he can almost feel the ground on the toe of his shoe but it’s just not quite there. All the dust he might’ve kicked up is already settled.
“If you wanna talk, I’m here. I mean, I know this shit’s crazy, I’ve been here the whole time.” Will laughs awkwardly. The sunshine grazes his hair more gracefully than it does most things, and Mike’s fingers itch to touch it, but he could never be as gentle as the light.
Mike looks back up at him. “Yeah, um, I don’t really know what to say.”
Will smiles, small and little sad. “That’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.”
Mike wonders briefly if Will’s legs reach the ground, and if he would hear the crunch of dirt shifting if they did.
Of all people to come by at that moment, it’s Eddie, who walks over to the SUV they’re perched on. He’s almost sauntering, but that’s usually how he walks, to be fair.
“Wheeler.” He nods in greeting.
“Munson.” As much as he likes Eddie, Mike’s honestly not sure if he’s in the mood for this.
Eddie looks over to Will and gasps dramatically, stumbling back and clutching his chest. “Is this… No, it can’t be!” He looks him over as if scanning him. “Same bowl cut, same birthmarks, same kind aura—This must be the famous William Byers!”
Will furrows his brows and laughs. “Sorry, but, who are you? And why do you know what I look like?”
“Has Michael not told you all about me? For shame, Wheeler!” He points and scolds him. “I, Will the Wise, am Eddie Munson A.K.A Eddie the Banished, Dungeon Master and head of Hellfire Club. It is, of course, an honor to meet your acquaintance.”
He bows so low he almost falls over.
“ Oh, Mike has told me about you, actually.” Will grins and looks him up and down to take in his full appearance.
Mike’s really sweaty. He wishes he had another shirt somewhere.
He didn’t actually tell Will about Eddie until sometime a few hours into the first car ride when they were trying to think of anything to occupy themselves. He seemed a little upset that he’d joined a new party, but also happy for him.
“I am delighted to meet your acquaintance as well, Mr. Munson,” Will says in a fake fancy voice and bows as well as he can while staying sat on the car. “You didn’t answer how you know what I look like, though,” he says in his normal voice.
“Oh, well, I saw pictures.” Eddie squints and winks at Mike. What’s that supposed to mean? So what, he described how his best friend looks to him, big deal.
“Anyway, I came over here because according to uh…” He points a thumb behind him. “I don’t know—someone over there, we’re the only two people here that haven’t met yet, so… Pleased to meet, and have met, you.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re really weird, Ed?” Mike teases and kicks his leg out toward him but Eddie hops back before he can hit him.
“No, me? You must be joking!” Eddie gasps. “Weird? Why, never!” He feigns outrage at the suggestion.
Will looks back and forth between the two of them with a funny expression, like he can’t quite figure out what’s going on.
There’s a few seconds of silence.
Will clears his throat. “Well, it’s great to meet you, Eddie. Always good to meet another player.”
“Are you currently in a party?”
Will opens his mouth and hesitates. “Uh—um, no. Not right now.”
“Ah, well, that’s a shame. I’ve heard many great stories about you, cleric. Perhaps you’ll find one to join soon, or hey, maybe you’ll even start a party of your own.”
Will sputters for a moment, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, maybe I will.”
Mike can’t stop his head from snapping to look at him. He knows it’s stupid and hypocritical and doesn’t even make any sense, but Mike was hoping… Well, Will had told him it’d be impossible for him to join another party, so…
“Anyway, I should get back because those idiots couldn’t survive five goddamn minutes without me. They’re scared I’m gonna go and get myself incriminated for murder again if they don’t keep an eye out.” Eddie looks over his shoulder to where Dustin and Lucas are play-wrestling while Steve cheers them on and Erica begrudgingly keeps score. “Trust me, they need me. ‘Kay, see ya later.”
Will’s glad they have an extra person to watch over them and play D&D with, but he sometimes wishes he could still be that person.
Mike and Will’s “Bye” s overlap as they watch Eddie skip away to his little family of fiends, but he turns back around at the last second to say, “Oh, and Mike?”
“Yeah?”
“Good luck.”
He winks again and smirks like he knows something Mike doesn’t. He looks back at him, confused—good luck with what?
“He’s, uh, interesting,” Will says after he’s gone, swinging his legs idly. A beam of light falls on his eyes perfectly and Mike can see all the hidden tones and spots sprinkled in his irises. He wonders if anyone else even thinks to look at them close enough to see the little details.
“He’s cool. He’s actually really smart once you get to know him, like, street smart. He sucks ass at school.”
“Yeah, he seems… I’m sure he’s great.” Will sends him a tiny smile.
They sit comfortably in silence for a few minutes and the heat of the sun is slathered over Mike’s skin like gross, gooey Vaseline. Is nobody else burning up right now? He thinks he could peel the warmth off in one big sheet if he tried hard enough. Will doesn’t seem nearly as affected.
In the distance he sees waves of sunlight stirring the horizon into one curving plane of color. He looks at the layers of sand crusted onto the tires of the vehicles around him then picks up his shoe to see if the ground had the same effect on his sole. It did. He closes his eyes and sees yellow splotches of brightness reflected on his eyelids, and decides to keep them closed.
Mike suddenly remembers something and opens his eyes to look at Will.
“Hey, Will-”
No. No no no no no. They would’ve known if it was going to happen, they would’ve seen the signs, just like what they said happened to Max. There’s no way.
There’s no way.
On the hood of the car to the side of Mike, Will sits unusually stiffly. His eyes have become reddened and his pupils face upward to the sky, lids fluttering rapidly over them.
“Will? Will!” Mike jumps off, grips his arm and shakes him once, then shakes him even harder when he gets no response. Will faces ahead blankly, unaware of the outside world, and his eyes are so pink and unnatural looking. Mike feels something fall deep, deep down into the pit of his stomach.
No, how could he not have noticed this was going to happen? Why didn’t Will tell him? Why doesn’t he trust Mike anymore?
“Fuck—Will!”
Only a handful of the people that are still chatting notice his yelling and look over.
“Guys, it’s Will, he’s getting him, guys! He’s—help! Somebody fucking help!” He’s screaming so loud that he already feels the tissue of his vocal cords begging him to stop, but he can’t, not right now. He’s waving his arms around and gesturing wildly to try to get someone to fucking come over here .
Several of them begin sprinting over as soon as he starts yelling, but a few need a moment to compute that this is an emergency and that he needs them here right the fuck now .
“Oh god, oh shit, no, no, not him too, no,” Max says, slipping one headphone off her ear once she gets an unobstructed view of what’s happening. She’s the only one here who’s actually experienced this firsthand.
“Will? Will?” Jonathan pushes between other bodies and bumps multiple shoulders to get up closer.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Eddie grabs at his scalp hard enough to pull some hairs free while Lucas and Dustin speak over each other with different variations of “Shit, shit, shit,”, “Oh my god, oh my god,”, and screams of “Will!”