Chapter Text
It took Mike twelve re-writes, an incurable headache, and four cups of coffee to finally close his document.
He had been working on this same stupid paragraph of this ridiculous book for weeks now, never quite capturing the moment right, never saying what he meant.
This book was one of his favourite ideas, but it seems that it’s becoming his worst nightmare.
Mike slams his laptop lid down, sighing and leaning back in his chair. He pinches his nose underneath his glasses, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before using any remaining energy to peel open his eyelids.
He feels kind of dizzy. Whether it’s a lack of sleep, lack of water, too much blue light, or something else, he doesn’t know. But he doesn’t care, because his gaze drifts up to his wall, left to his desk, and his stomach drops. He doesn’t understand why. It’s just a painting after all…
Except it’s not. Mike feels almost… haunted by it? And it’s not like he has a reason to, considering Will painted it and Will is alive and his best friend.
But El commissioned it. And she… she might not be alive.
Mike blinks that thought away, because although he may have watched what was seemingly the end of her life, he still clings to that sliver of hope in his heart that she’s out there, living a good life, one where she isn’t hunted by people with guns or monsters with claws. Peace is what she deserves. What he hopes she has.
So instead he thinks about the former. About Will.
Sure, they haven’t spoken in like two months, and sure to Mike it feels like ten years, but he’ll always consider Will his best friend. Always. And Dustin and Lucas too. Even Max. The party.
He acts before he thinks, standing up and walking directly to the only phone in his apartment, dialing a familiar number and listening to that jarring ring.
At first he expected that same voicemail he’s been tortured with for weeks, but instead he’s greeted with that welcoming voice.
A small “Hello?” comes through the speaker.
Mike smiles subconsciously, “Hey, Will. It’s Mike. Just wanted to–”
“Shit, Mike? Hold on a second.”
He frowns, listening to the distant conversation on the line clearly covered by Will’s hand.
“Hey, sorry, I’m back.” Will’s voice comes through.
“You okay? What was that about?” The concern is clear in Mike’s voice, even though he doesn’t mean for it to be.
“Yeah, I’m fine. And it was nothing.” He hears Will take a deep breath, “Sorry, but you’re going to have to make this quick. I’m… busy.”
Oh. “Oh. Yeah, no, that’s fine, I understand. Busy guy now, huh?” Mike chuckles to himself, but to be honest he thinks he just made it awkward. “I just wanted to check in, have a catch up, but I guess that will have to be for another day?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry Mike. I really wish I could talk for longer, I do, just–” a sigh. “Nevermind. How’s your book going?”
“Ugh, awful. I don’t even wanna think about it.” That finally earned him a laugh. “What about you? How’s your art? Your painting?”
Will hesitates, why did he hesitate? “Uhm… Yeah! Great! Super awesome. But, uh, I’m out of time. Speak to you another day?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” It’s not fine.
“Sorry, Mike.”
“It’s okay, Will. You have a life.” It’s not okay.
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
That didn’t calm Mike down at all. In fact, it actually just made him feel 100x worse about the situation, which-he-didn’t-know-was-a-situation-before-now.
Something is wrong with Will. Whether he admits it or not, something is going on. Or maybe he just, like, hates Mike and was trying to have a nice moment with a special someone.
And now Mike feels sick again.
Nearly every single time Mike thinks about when Will came out to them all, he throws up. Overdramatic? Very. But the fact he hadn’t noticed Will’s feelings sooner, couldn’t have been there for him earlier, and Vecna being the reason for Will even telling them that part of himself? It really, really, doesn’t sit right with Mike.
And that’s a part of what led him to another stupid decision.
He dials in a new number, another familiar one, listening to that ring again knowing damn well he doesn’t know what to say if he picks up–
“Hello?” Mike freezes. “I swear to god if this is another–”
“Dustin! It’s– it’s Mike.”
“Oh. Hey, Mike! What’s up?” Dustin says into the phone, sounding much happier than before.
“Um, nothing much, just– uh, have you spoken to Will recently?”
“Mm… No? Why? Is something up?”
Mike sighs, “Actually, yeah. Well, maybe. I think, anyway.”
He can hear Dustin’s confusion through the phone, “Well have you spoken to him?”
“Yeah.”
There’s a moment of pause before, “Okay, so shouldn’t you know whether something’s wrong?”
“That’s the thing! He’s… I don’t know, acting weird.”
“Acting weird? Over the phone?”
Mike rolls his eyes even though Dustin can’t see him. “Our conversation lasted less than like thirty seconds, and when he picked up he smothered a conversation with someone–”
“Maybe because he wants some privacy, Mike? Come on. Seriously, I’m sure it’s nothing. You’re just paranoid, especially after… everything that’s happened. And with the awful ending to your last book, may I add. That can’t be helping.”
Mike snorts, “Hey, what was wrong with the ending?”
He hears Dustin laugh, “Dude, are you kidding me? I can’t even speak it aloud it was that bad.” Mike shakes his head “Rest of the book was great, though. When’s your next one coming out?”
“Man, don’t even make me think about the bitch of a thing.”
Dustin laughs again, “Listen, Mike, I’m going to have to go, because I was in the middle of library work, but it was nice speaking to you.”
“Okay, bye.”
“Bye.”
He slams the phone back into the cradle. For fucks sake.
Not only is something up with Will, but Dustin’s blaming it on paranoia. Fantastic.
Mike strolls out to his kitchen to fill up a glass of water, which feels like heaven when he pours the liquid down his throat. It may be the first thing he’s drank other than coffee in 2 days.
He opens the freezer to get some ice, and his heart stops. There, lying in his freezer, is a yellow box. An awfully familiar box which stores his now least favourite food. Eggo waffles. After El, they were all Mike could eat, but he ate so many in such a short span of time that he hasn’t been able to touch them for nearly two years. How long has this box been in here?
He physically shakes the memory away. He won’t allow self-pity and sadness, not today. Because today he has a mission.
It’s 2PM when he’s banging on the front door to a beautiful house.
The door swings open, and he’s greeted with a miserable “What?”, before the act breaks and Lucas cracks a smile, the both of them jumping into a hug.
Mike lets himself inside, straight to the kitchen to rummage through their fridge.
When he hears footsteps behind him he doesn’t even look up, just says “Hey, Max,” and waves to the air.
“Okay, so what are you actually doing here?” Max asks as Mike heats himself up some leftover... turkey?
He just stares at the microwave, “Have either of you two spoken to Will?”
“Not much,” Lucas huffs, “But she has.” He points at Max with his thumb.
Mike takes out his food and finally looks at her, “Have you noticed anything off about him?” He takes a bite out of his meat, “And what is this?” He asks with his mouth full.
“Um, yeah, actually. I guess he’s more distant, more avoidant. But that’s just life, Mike. We’re growing up, and he’s meeting new people.” Max reassures.
“Also, that’s some rabbit we got for our friend’s dog.” Lucas cuts in.
Mike’s face pales, “What?”, and he spits out the food onto their floor.
“He was obviously messing with you Mike,” Max rolls her eyes whilst chucking him some cloths to clean up with. “Did you actually drive all the way out here just to ask us that? We have a phone, you know. And you have our number.”
Mike bends down and starts picking up his chewed pieces of unknown meat, “What, you don’t wanna see me?”
“Of course we do.” Lucas walks up and pats Mike’s shoulder, then eats his remaining unknown meat.
Mike shoots him a glare before continuing, “But no, you guys were just on the way.”
He sees them glance at each other. “On the way to where?” Lucas asks slowly.
“The airport.” He replies casually, rinsing off the cloth in the sink.
“The airport?” Max and Lucas blurt at the same time.
“Yeah. I’m going to New York.” Mike shrugs.
“New York?” They say together again.
“Yeah. To see Will.”
They blink at him. Stare at him. And it’s a long silence before Max utters, “And does Will know about this? Because it sure sounded to me on the phone like he doesn’t want to see any of our faces.”
“It’ll be fine.”
Lucas and Max just stare at each other.
Okay, so turns out that booking a flight is much harder than Mike thought. Especially a last minute one at the airport.
He had held up an entire que trying to find his wallet, only to find out that he was in the wrong line. Then he’d walked into about a million people trying to find his way around. It was much easier when he went to California and had help with everything.
Now, he was relaxed in a taxi, flight over and done with, on his way to a random hotel the taxi driver had just assumed he was going to. Hopefully he’d get a room there.
He looks out of the window at the city he recognised through so many movies, the bright lights, bustling traffic, it was all real.
Mike was mesmerised by the city, by how different it is compared to Hawkins. He was so lost in the admiration that he’d almost missed a familiar face crossing the road. Almost.
“Wait!” He shouts to the driver, immediately going red when the miserable-looking man turns around. “Can you stop here, actually?”
The driver nods, grunting, and Mike quickly pays and practically jumps out of the car, almost getting hit by other cars in the process.
Then he’s running.
Running after a boy he saw only a few months ago, but it feels like decades.
“Will!”
Will doesn’t hear him; he just keeps strolling, hands in pockets, alone, awkward.
Suddenly Mike is a lot closer. Very close. And he doesn’t seem to realise that Will has stopped to look at something in a display window until he’s crashing into his back and sending them both flying to the floor.
Mike lands on top of Will’s back, and Will’s chin slams into the pavement as a chorus of ‘oohh’s’ can be heard.
Mike immediately grabs Will’s wrist and pulls him up to his feet, but Will is bright red and looks both furious and about ready to die.
“Mike?!” Will shouts when he finally looks at his face.
“Yeah! Hi!” Mike smiles.
But Will just touches his bleeding chin and looks around, ducking his head and walking off, leaving Mike jogging after him.
“Will!”
“Oh god, this is so embarrassing.” Will mutters.
Mike touches Will’s shoulder and Will spins around so fast you’d think a bomb was set off.
Bomb. Upside down. Abyss. El.
Mike shakes his head. “It’s not that bad, they’re gone now.”
This time it’s Will shaking his head, except his is more fierce and obvious. “No, Mike. They’re not gone. We’re gone.”
Will sighs. “What are you doing here, Mike? And how did you find me? And why did you bodyslam me in a busy fucking crowd.” Mike flinches at the word.
“I didn’t mean to run into you, I was running after you and you stopped before I realised.”
Will sighs, “Okay. Sorry,” but there’s a sort of edge to his voice.
“You okay?” Mike asks.
“Yes, Mike. It’s just my best friend just came out of nowhere and flung me to the ground, and now I’m bleeding.” Will side-eyes Mike, then they both start laughing and walking to god knows where.
“Seriously, though, are you okay? Because your chin’s still bleeding.”
Will shrugs, “Stings, I guess.”
Mike looks down at the boy to his right, and it all feels normal again. Will by his side, one of them hurt, laughing, walking randomly. It feels like they’re kids again.
Until Will’s face pales.
Mike looks ahead and watches as a guy around 20– a little older than them– strolls around the corner, and Mike hears Will mutter shit under his breath before pressing his lips into a straight line.
They keep walking, but Will’s pace slows down a little bit, and Mike notices a sudden shift in his body language, he just can’t put his finger on what has changed.
All of a sudden that same random dude is jogging towards them, and Mike has to take a step away from Will when the guy gets all up and close in Will's personal space.
“Hey, Will. Who’s this?” He asks, and Will’s eyes quickly flicker to Mike before back up at the boy. Who Mike has just realised is very tall.
“I’m Mike, and you are?” Mike offers out a hand, but he swears Will’s face scrunched up when he answered.
The guy has a somewhat amused look on his face, glancing between Mike and Will. “Mike?” He drawls out, looking at Mike’s outstretched hand.
“I’m Anthony,” He says finally, shaking Mike’s hand.
“Nice to meet you,” Mike nods.
“Nice to meet you too, Mike. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Mike smiles, looking between the two. “Really?”
Anthony smiles back, “Mhm.”
Will doesn’t smile.
After that, Anthony dragged them to a more secluded area. Mike soon realized Anthony and Will were… more than friends. They were boyfriends.
Mike was okay with that, of course, he just wished Will had been the one to tell him that.
Then Anthony had got all lovey dovey affectionate with Will and was wrapping his arms around him– and to Mike it was pretty damn corny– but then he’d dragged Will off, claiming they had ‘plans’ and left Mike stranded! Stranded!
Eventually, though, Mike found a hotel. A pretty shitty one, but a place to rest his head nonetheless.
He just couldn’t stop thinking about Will and that freak Anthony– hypocritical, calling him a freak, Mike knows, but why was Will with him out of all the men in the world? He was giving bad vibes. Such bad vibes that Mike's internal instincts were telling him to run.
But like Dustin said, he does seem to be pretty damn paranoid.
Now he lays in a rock solid bed, staring at the ceiling of this random building, thinking about what an idiot he was for coming here. Will didn’t even want to speak to him on the phone, let alone in real life. Mike couldn’t have expected more than for him to be swooped away by prince charming. Will has a whole life outside of the Party, now. Outside of Mike.
But maybe that’s what hurts.