Chapter Text
“I’m just going to say all of this, okay?” Will said quietly. There was no tremor in his voice, but his eyes were wide in that way they got when he was bracing himself. “I don’t need you to fix anything. I just… I need you to listen.”
Mike nodded immediately. Probably too fast.
“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. I’m great at listening.”
Mike's stomach glowed at the small laugh that escaped from Will. He was desperately searching for another quick, equally as hilarious thing to say but he shut up the second Will took a sharp inhale.
Will pressed his palms flat to the table like he needed the physical grounding.
“Actually- sorry- could we do this in the living room? Like, on the couch or something?”
“Yeah,” Mike agreed at once. “Yeah, of course.”
He stood and, without thinking, held his hand out.
The second his brain caught up, it was already too late. The hand was there. Open. Offering. Steady.
Will looked at it. Then up at Mike. One eyebrow quirked, just slightly, like he couldn't decide if there was something delicate or slightly amusing in this act of chivalry.
And then, very carefully, he laced their fingers together.
Mike’s breath caught. Not sharply. But enough for it to sit heavily between them.
Will used the grip to pull himself up, but neither of them let go after. If anything, their hands tightened, like letting go couldn't be an option yet. Like it might undo something fragile.
Mike led them into the living room on instinct alone. His thumb brushed Will’s knuckle once. Then a second time. Accidentally. Maybe.
It sent a warm, nervous spark straight up his arm.
This shouldn’t feel so comfortable, Mike thought. And yet it was the best feeling ever.
He remembered being smaller. Being braver. Dragging Will everywhere by the hand because it felt right, before anyone had told them it wasn’t supposed to. That memory should’ve made this hurt.
Instead, this felt steadier.
Safer.
Real.
They sat down side by side on the couch. Too close to be coincidence. Each with one leg tucked up so their knees brushed, constant and grounding.
Their hands were still joined.
“Could we…?” Will asked, eyes flicking down as he gave Mike's hand a small squeeze.
“Oh- shit, sorry,” Mike apologised quickly, dropping his hand like it had burned him. “I didn’t mean-”
“No,” Will said at once. “It’s okay. I just need to focus, that’s all.”
Mike nodded, folding his hands together so he wouldn’t reach out again by accident. Or on instinct.
Will took a breath. Then another.
“I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier,” he said steadily. “It wasn’t fair.”
Mike opened his mouth. To correct him. To scold him for apologising. To tell him to shut up.
Will glanced at him. “Listening,” he reminded gently.
“Right. Yeah. Sorry.”
Will huffed a small, almost-smile and kept going. “I was… shaken. From being back there. From everything. And I took it out on you, which wasn’t okay.”
Mike stared at the floor. His jaw tightened. The way he said it was all wrong. Why was Will apologising for feeling rough after being back in the clutches of that evil fucking-
“You didn’t deserve that,” Will said softly. “Especially not after what you did.”
Mike felt his chest pinch.
“You fought through the Upside Down without any of the Party,” Will continued. “You didn’t even know if I was alive. You could have died. And I-” His voice faltered, just for a second. He swallowed. “I didn’t even think anyone would notice if I was gone.”
Mike’s head snapped up. “Woah, that’s not-”
Will shook his head. “I know but He can make you do stupid things.”
Silence settled between them, heavy but not sharp.
“I thought disappearing would fix everything,” Will said. “Like… like I was the problem. And instead you-” He laughed quietly, shaking his head. “You made a deal with Henry Creel.”
Mike winced. “When you say it like that, it sounds worse.”
“It is worse,” Will said, but there was no bite in it. “And somehow you still convinced him to let us go home.”
Mike shifted. “I mean. Hopefully.”
Will turned to face him fully now. “It’s not smart. Or safe. Or anything Hopper would ever approve of.” A pause. “But I believe in you.”
Mike’s throat went tight.
“I believe in us,” Will corrected. “Together. More than anyone alone.”
Mike laughed weakly. “You probably shouldn’t.”
“I probably shouldn’t,” Will agreed. “But I do. Because it's us. There's nothing we can't do."
They sat there, knees touching, shoulders almost brushing. Mike could feel the heat of Will’s arm like a living thing.
“We can actually get home,” Will said quietly.
Something in Mike cracked just a little.
“Will,” he said, voice rougher than he meant it to be. “I’m really fucking scared I’m going to screw this up.”
Will didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he shifted closer. Just enough that their shoulders touched properly this time.
Solid.
Intentional.
“Me too,” Will admitted. “But… you’re not alone in it.”
Mike exhaled. Slowly. Shakily.
Their arms brushed again. Stayed there.
The space between them shrank until it was almost nothing.
Mike swallowed. His heart was racing, but not like before. This was different. Softer. Warmer.
Mike swallowed, throat still raw like he’d been screaming for hours instead of crying for a few minutes. The quiet after Will’s speech felt louder than their previous argument had. Like the disgusting floral wallpaper was waiting to see what he’d do with it.
“I keep thinking,” Mike started, and immediately hated how small his voice sounded. It sounded like when he was 13 and it made him wince in embarrassment. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I keep thinking that you were right.”
Will stiffened beside him. Just barely. Enough that Mike noticed.
“Mike…” Will exhaled, guilt tainting his features. He pulled his leg back slightly from Mike's, but the taller boy's hand flew down to stop it.
“This is my turn.” Mike said, an edge of certainty hugging the anxiety in his voice.
Will simply nodded.
“I think you were right. About… failing,” Mike rushed on, because if he didn’t say it all now, he never would. “About him. About how this is probably exactly what he wants and I just-” He shook his head, frustrated, words tangling up more and more. They never seemed to come out right any more. “I don’t know how to be the kind of person who just gives up. Especially because I refuse to give up on you.”
His hands twisted together in his lap, fingers absent mindedly worrying at skin that was still tender and pink. Will's own digits slowly clasped around Mike's, restricting his access to them. Mike stared at their interlocked hands, because looking at Will felt like too much. Today they seemed to be suddenly comfortable holding hands again, and Mike had to fight not to smile at the fact.
“Like,” he went on, breath picking up despite himself, despite Will's grounding touch, “Maybe we walk and maybe something goes wrong and maybe I fuck it up because I always fuck something up and-” He laughed, sharp and humourless. “I mean, Jesus, I can barely keep it together sitting on a couch.”
“Mike-”
“And I know that doesn’t make this fair,” he said, voice cracking now, exhaustion finally punching through adrenaline. “It doesn’t make it smart or safe or whatever. But if we don’t try, then what was all of this for? All the fighting and the running and the shit we already survived?”
He finally looked up then. Will’s face was unreadable, eyes dark and steady in that way that always made Mike feel like he was being seen through.
“I can’t promise I won’t be scared,” Mike said quietly. “I already am. I’m terrified. But I don’t know how to live with not trying. Not when it comes to you.”
That was as close as he could get. The edge of the cliff, toes hanging over, heart hammering.
Will didn’t answer him.
Instead, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Mike like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Mike froze for half a second. Then his body gave up.
He sagged into it, forehead knocking lightly against Will’s shoulder, breath shuddering out of him like something had finally unplugged.
Will held him tight, one hand firm between his shoulder blades, the other curled at the back of his neck, warm and grounding.
“Okay,” Will said softly, right into Mike’s hair. No anger. No fear. Just certainty. “Okay then.”
Mike laughed weakly. “That’s… that’s it?”
“Yeah,” Will said. “I guess if it’s impossible, then we’ll just have to get through it anyway.”
Something in Mike’s chest cracked open at that. Not breaking. Opening.
He nodded against Will’s shoulder, too tired to argue, too tired to be brave anymore. Just tired. Bone-deep, shaking, heavy, tired.
They stayed like that for a while. Long enough that Mike lost track of how long his eyes had been closed. Long enough that the house stopped feeling like it was leaning in on them.
When Will finally shifted, it was gentle.
“Hey,” he murmured. “You’re barely awake.”
Mike made a noise that was meant to be a protest and came out like a sigh. “I’m fine.”
Will pulled back just enough to look at him, clearly unconvinced. “You almost passed out on the bathroom floor.”
“That was… a strategic nap.”
Will huffed. “Come on.”
Mike let himself be hauled up without complaint. His legs felt like they belonged to someone else, steps sluggish as Will guided him down the hallway. He barely registered the room until he was sitting on the edge of the bed again, mattress dipping beside him as Will fussed with blankets.
“When you wake up,” Will said, like he was negotiating with a kid, “we’ll look around. The house. Maybe bake something.”
Mike snorted weakly. “You’re trusting me near an oven?”
“I’ll supervise,” Will said. “Strictly.”
Mike nodded, eyelids already drooping. “Okay.”
He hesitated, then added, quieter, “You’ll still be here?”
Will didn’t hesitate at all, but he made eye contact with Mike so intense that Mike's stomach swooped. “Yeah. I’ll be here.”
That was enough.
Mike let himself lie back, exhaustion dragging him under faster than he could fight it. The last thing he felt was the weight of the mattress shifting as Will settled beside him, solid and real and close enough that Mike didn’t have to reach.
Just this once, he didn’t.