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Will Byers was the kind of person who always has something to be pitied over. He hates it. There was always something going wrong. Mike was the only real constant in his life, until even that was gone.
He realized he was irrevocably in love with Mike Wheeler very slowly. It crept up on him, like he was swimming slowly deeper and deeper into a deep ocean, but he started on the shore.
He walked in deeper, if he meant to or not. Unable to turn back, but aware. He knew, the whole time, that it could never work. He knew even more that he couldn't stop it either way.
Whether this was good for him or not, it means that he could never have pointed to the moment he knew what he felt. It was just something he slowly adjusted to until he didn't know what it was like not to love him. And with the creeping sensation of love came an ever increasing certainty that Mike could never feel the same way. So he simply never did anything about it. Pushed it down and contented himself with friendship. Or, tried to, at least.
The whole thing was like a curse he had to bear, loving a boy he could never have. But he bore it, along with everything else that the wind blew his way, quietly. So quietly that the one person who always knew the difference between his silences didn't realize. Though maybe that was for different reasons. Does it matter?
Mike Wheeler, for his part, always does the wrong thing. He can't help thinking of it that way. When he put everything he had into making a plan, the one person he knew he needed to protect slipped through his fingers.
And despite all evidence to the contrary, there is a very real part of Mike that could be easily misconstrued as optimism. It isn't optimism, per se. It is an unfounded conviction that those he loves most will be okay in the end. Not because he truly believes it, but because he can't bear to think about it any other way. He realized that he was in love with Will Byers very quickly. He jumped straight into the deep end, and couldn't have reached for air if he'd tried.
Realizing love that way is strange. The first thing that one feels is surprise. But moments later, it is replaced with a surprise at one’s surprise, because how could they not love them? This was what Mike felt, all in one rush. It put so much other stuff into perspective for him, and he didn't breathe for thirty seconds.
Then he was gasping for air on a yellow picnic blanket with everyone he held dear as they tried to pretend life was normal, and he was staring at Will on the other side, knitting small, purple wildflowers together into a crown for his sister.
Mike is filled with so much at once that he forgets everything else. The ash and smoke rising from the town below them, the whole mess that they ignore for this day. He just knows Will, and that he needs to be closer to him for now and for always.
But Mike has enough sense not, or lacks the sense to go up to Will and say all of this to him. Because besides love, Mike is filled with fear.
Of what this means. What everyone would think, the fact that this is everything he has tried so hard not to be. But it hasn't worked so far, has it? He could never say what he needed to, never be who he needed to be.
Why not just be who he wants to be?
Mike made an incredible decision that day, on the first day of summer. He decided that he would try. That if the moment felt right, he would tell Will what he felt, for better or for worse. But he left it up to his mind when that moment could be.
Summer is nearly over– though neither of them realize it– when Mike makes the leap and kisses Will. There is no confession of love; it's nearly casual. But it becomes something small, at least. And they both reflect that summer is lasting forever. And then it ends, so abruptly it almost seems like retribution of sorts. Mike can't take his eyes off of Will for different reasons now. They’re coming for him.
Will looked around desperately for others when the feeling came for him again. He didn’t want it. But he knew in his gut that they were not coming, that they hadn't even noticed that he’s gone. He did this to himself, in so many different ways.
And a deep voice assured him this was the case, that he would be happier if he surrendered, as he loses control of his legs, and they carry him away.
Down, down, down. He shivers at the cold, but there is nothing to be done. Nobody is coming to save him anyways. One foot in front of the other, and he can't even tell if he's being controlled anymore. Maybe this really is what he wants.
What was he meant to do? It was follow him or die. Will went into the woods alone; Will wanted to look at the stars and breathe. He would've done it with someone, but they were too busy. And he couldn't just sit still and wait to die. Now he marches down into the depths of the Upside Down. Behind him, it starts to snow.
Will would call for someone. For his mom, or for Mike. But nobody would hear him, he's walked too far already. They won't know where to find him, and they won't care to look.
Or maybe they will. It'll be too late anyway. He's going to be locked away in the cold and in the dark until he is a useful weapon to be used against those he loves. He almost volunteered for it.
His only consolation is it might not work. That they’ll as likely as not strike him down before they recognize his face. He smiles bitterly to himself and follows the devil further down into hell.
When they tell Mike that they think Will’s been taken again, something on the inside of him breaks in a way that can never be fixed. For the second time, the second time, he let Will get away and lost him.
And it makes him angry that he didn't realize it himself, that he didn't notice first. And it makes him angry that they break the news to him as if he is fragile, as if he can't take it. He was distracted. He wasn’t watching close enough. He blinked, and everything that he had was gone. He never even let himself love it.
But maybe he can’t, maybe they were right. Whatever it is, that night, he sneaks out. He takes an old, red scarf, ties it over his mouth, and walks into the night.
It would be stupid to just find a gate, and wander around the Upside Down as if he could find Will that way. But maybe what he does is stupider.
“I know you're listening to me,” Mike hisses into the silent woods, where snow is beginning to stick to the ground. “I know you are, and I want Will back. Give him back to me, and I'll take him away and we won't bother you again.”
Will would never agree to that, and they both know it. But Mike has to try something. Better an angry Will in front of him than a righteous Will who is gone. So he shouts pleas, and then he shouts threats. Eventually, inevitably, his anger dissipates.
“I need him back,” he whispers, and he falls to his knees on the snow, they sink through nearly an inch of snow and down to the dead leaves of autumn and he buries his head in his hands. There is snow in his hair, soaking through his jacket and his pant legs where they lie in it. His teeth are chattering, and his whole body is shaking. And then the ground goes out from beneath him, and he sinks momentarily into an empty abyss.
I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement, Micheal, a voice whispers in his ear. Mike startles awake. In his mind, he feels himself being guided down.
He moves blindly, without hesitation. No question of what this might mean, if he'll be able to come back. It doesn't matter. If he fails, that just means he’ll be closer to Will as the world falls down. He walks and walks deeper.
He knows when he's arrived. Vecna stands, in the flesh, a few feet away from him. The ground is slimy and the air tastes of ash. Mike's scarf is gone, lost somewhere on his walk, but he doesn't care.
They are surrounded by people. Faces he doesn't recognize, all of the eyes unseeing. An army. He’s been taking so many people, and none of them realized. And now it’s too late.
“Will?” he shouts, looking around desperately. But the faces are all foreign.
“I knew I could trust you,” Vecna tells him coldly. “Even his mother would've planned, but you? So smart yet so desperate. So lonely. If you died here, you wouldn't care, would you? If it was to save someone else.”
Mike swallows, but holds his gaze. He can't help remembering another time and another place. Jumping. His thoughts betray him, and Vecna nods. “That's what I thought.”
Mike grits his teeth, trying to push down memories. “Please just let me see Will.”
Vecna shrugs. “Fine.” He waves a hand, and a wall of vines parts slightly to reveal Will. Mike runs and catches him as he falls forward and he coughs wretchedly as Mike pulls him upright. Horror curls in Mike's gut.
Mike helps him lie back as his eyes slide shut, and his shaking hand delicately cups his face. “Will. Will, can you hear me? Are you okay?” He continues to cry these things toward him, and Will’s eyes open slowly. Mike lets out a cry of delight and despair.
Will’s eyes slowly focus, and widen in surprise. “Mike?” he whispers, his face a blend of horror and awe. Mike wraps his arms around him, pulling him half upright again, and holding him tight.
“Never leave me again,” he whispers, “I can't handle it.”
Will’s arms slowly wrap around him, too, and they hold each other as sobs shake both their bodies. They pull back just enough to see each other. Mike stares at his eyes, sparkling and beautiful.
“Take me home,” Will whispers.
“I promise.”
They embrace again. Even Vecna, surely watching them closely, is gone entirely. It's just the two of them, truly holding each other. Mike’s arms move to try and pull Will even closer, erasing all the space between them. He has him back with him; he can't let him go again.
There they are, for a moment. Then there is a twisted, dark laugh. Mike throws his arms in front of Will automatically, turning to face Vecna as he cackles harshly.
“This is cute,” he tells them seriously, with a note of satire in his tone, “but you don't seriously think that you can take him home, do you? That's not how this works! I'm going to kill both of you.”
Will wraps an arm around Mike’s shoulder. “Why should you kill him? He came all the way here for me, just let him go home. Tell him it's too late.”
Mike turns and looks at him, stricken by how serious he sounds. “Will, no.”
Vecna waves a hand. “He’ll just die later. He's welcome to try and find his way back.”
Will grabs Mike’s shoulders. “Go,” he implores him. “You have to get out of here. I'll be okay.”
Mike shakes his head in disbelief. “No,” he whispers, “I won't. I'm not going without you.”
He turns to Vecna. “Let him go.”
Vecna takes a step towards him, and it feels like the whole ground shakes beneath them. Mike tries not to let his fear bleed into his face.
“Let him go,” he repeats.
Vecna stares for a moment. Mike doesn't take his eyes off of him, partially just because he fears looking over to Will, who he couldn't save in time. Have I just ruined everything, right at the end?
The silence rings out into the Upside Down until Mike is sure every creature there must be aware of the deathly quiet. None of the people behind them move, there are no whispers or any small movements. Complete stillness across the Upside Down.
Then, Vecna speaks. “I will make a deal with you.”
Mike’s breath hitches. There is a stretch of terrifying silence.
“You may lead him out of here. I will see to it that the way is cleared for you.”
Will clammers to grab Mike’s hand in a desperate excitement. Mike waits motionless for the other shoe to drop.
“I only have one condition. You, Mike, shall lead, and he shall follow. You may not touch, and anything one of you says will not reach the other. If you turn around, he comes right back to me.”
Mike goes cold with panic. He can't do this.
“I will give you a moment to discuss,” Vecna tells them coldly. He waves a hand, and the world around the two of them disappears.
Will takes Mike’s face in both his hands, and kisses him. “I will follow you.”
“Are you certain?”
“Anywhere.”
Mike places his own shaky hands over Will’s and nods just slightly. Will is smiling at him, despite the dirt on his face and the bags under his eyes. “I lo-”
“Times up.” The world reappears around them, all the eyes drone into Mike’s skull. Vecna takes another step forward. “What is your choice, Micheal?”
Mike looks over his shoulder at Will, who nods. This is the last time he can do that. He tries to memorize Will’s face as he turns back to face Vecna.
“I accept,” Mike says.
What remains of Vecna’s face contorts into a cold, cruel smile. “Very well. Stand up.”
Mike stands, and barely stops himself from looking back to Will already. Can he still stand, is he well enough? He pushes the thoughts out of his mind.
“Why are you risking everything for this boy?” Vecna asks him.
Mike takes a steadying breath, and it was never a question to him. “Because I love him,” he says. His voice trembles below the defiance in it.
Vecna steps to the side, and gestures to a small path through the vines. Mike nods, and starts forward.
He walks slowly, carefully. He is aware of places that Will might trip, but he cannot look back. What if something's happened to him? What if he never even stood up?
Mike has to push this away. One foot in front of the other, eyes straight ahead, don't look back.
Who is he to lead Will out of here? What gives him the right to be followed with such love? Will must've given up, he must have turned away. But Mike can't chase him down, he won't even know until it's too late.
No. He promised to take Will home. If he keeps any promise in his life, it has to be this one. He cannot flinch, he cannot stop. He only has one job.
Why would Vecna let him go? It would only give the others hope. Maybe that is his goal, but if so, he'd want to contain it. Has Mike been set up to fail? Has the path that he treads turned cold right behind him?
Is Will already dead? Did his final cry fall into a void where not even Mike could hear it?
He can’t think of these things; he can only remember three words. Don't look back.
Will is still wrapping his head around the idea that Mike is here. This must be some sort of fucked up dream. He whispers reassurances that he knows Mike can't hear, because he has to do something to keep himself sane. Staring at the back of the boy that he loves, and it is caving in on itself, tense and scared. Will wants to reach forward, to hug him and hold him. But he can't.
Mike, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. You don't know how much I need you, I will follow you forever. If you take a wrong turn, then we take it together. I haven't left, you haven't been tricked. I'm here with you now.
They walk and walk, but Will isn't tired. Mike. I'll follow you forever.
And they will follow him. Will knows that Mike was so viscerally engaged in saving him that he barely even noticed the others, but Will gets it. If they can do this, others can find the way, too. He feels something dangerously like hope. Mike is saving him.
Mike cannot look back, but he can't not look back. Anything could have happened by now, they've been walking for miles. He could spend a whole life making sure Will is okay, and consider not a second of it wasted.
This is how he helps Will. This is how he breaks him free. But Will came down here, all this way. Did some part of him want to leave them, leave Mike?
He tries to remember the look in Will’s eyes, the desperation and the promise to follow him. But the image is fading from his memory. How can this not be a trap?
They're getting closer, more than halfway there. Mike cannot throw this all away now. He will not throw this all away now.
Will is okay. He has to be. Mike picks up the pace just slightly. They have to get out of here before he does something stupid.
Will stares at Mike, and wonders how they can possibly survive this. Mike couldn't care about him enough, has never cared about him enough, to do something like this. It's a sick, twisted dream that he shouldn't have.
I'm right here, I promise. I’m here, I'm with you. You can’t hear me. Just trust me.
One foot in front of the other, follow him forward. They're nearly there now, he can see a sliver of light. But Will has never deserved this, it's never been real. Mike doesn't love him. Or, not to the same level.
Still, he looks at the small light at the end of this treacherous tunnel and feels something dangerously akin to hope.
The worst darkness is right before the light, Mike. It's okay.
Will almost feels it in his bones as Mike turns around. Not anger, something else. Mike’s eyes lock with his and his relief is tangible. Will feels almost confronted with the sheer amount of love in his expression.
They're so close. Mike can see the exit, they've nearly made it out of this hell. He’s nearly done it. He's left Will behind-- no, Will is just behind him. What if he steps out and Will doesn't follow? What if he can't get back down?
Could Will be crying out for him now? Is he hurt, is he well? Does he understand how much Mike loves him? Mike is just about to step out of here and he could be leaving Will behind.
He can't leave Will behind again. He can't leave this realm if Will isn't with him, he needs to run back down and walk this whole way again with Will in his arms. He won't lose him.
He's been late to save him so many times. Didn't realize, didn't know soon enough. How can he do that again? This fear mixes with the loneliness settled down in his stomach, the cold emptiness of this walk nearly twice over, and this life.
His body acts before his mind, and he turns.
Relief floods his body as he sees Will’s face. He’s here.
“You're early,” Will whispers.
“I missed you.”
The intensity of Mike’s need has lost him the one chance he had. How can he ever do anything ever again?
But they barely exchange words before Mike’s eyes slowly shift from adoration to horror. Will realizes that he is looking at someone who so clearly loves him that it hurts both of them, especially now.
Mike’s eyes slowly shift from adoration to horror.
“Mike,” he breathes, his heart starting to race. They have no time now. He tries to reach for him.
“Will,” Mike cries, in awe and pain. He reaches out, taking a step forward.
But in spite of his desire to hold Mike one more time, Will cannot let him go down, too. Before Mike can take another step forward, Will runs forward and pushes him backwards, both hands firmly on his chest. He has to get out of here. Mike tries to grab his hand, but Will is already being pulled away from him, back down.
As he falls, as he sees Mike slide through the crack in the void, and get sealed away from him, and safe, forever.
Mike claws at the ground until his fingers are slick with blood. He screams until his voice is raw, and then he crawls home. Tears are streaming down his face. Joyce finds him. They weep together. Mike manages somehow to tell her what happened. He apologizes until he can’t, and she strokes his hair.
Will is gone, and they can’t bring him back.
Will is gone, and they can’t bring him back.
Will is gone, and they can’t bring him back.
Somewhere in the Upside Down, their voices echo on forever. Mike’s shriek as Will pushed him away. Whatever happened right after that. Is Will dead? Under Vecna’s control, somehow?
Will is gone, and they can’t bring him back.