Chapter Text
It was believed that celestial bodies were the Gods' way of communicating with humans. It was believed that the stars also held the truth about humans' fate. The stars were holy in that way. A god in its own right. Yet, even if it truly held all the answers it never seemed to share these secrets with humans. Stars are such inconsequential creatures. When a star burns up and dies out; no one notices, no one even bats an eye...no one would ever know.
At that moment Will felt like a star, not in the way that he was beautiful nor was he something people would stare at until their eyes started to droop, he was purely inconsequential. He looked up at the celestial bodies dancing above him, if it truly knew everyone's destiny then it would surely know what he was about to do...and it just didn't care enough. No one cared enough.
It was laughable how pathetic Will had become. Honestly, he didn't know whether to laugh at how awful his life turned out or cry because of how awful his life turned out. Chasing a life he once had like a nostalgic fool who couldn't let go of the past. So what if he was born a queer? So what if his best friend ditched him at the first opportunity he was given? So what if his own friends and family forgot his birthday because his sister wanted to go to a rollerblading rink? So what if an interdemintional demon connected it's subconscious with his? So what if his friends started playing DnD with another party? It was the cards the star dealt and Will just had to play.
Except Will wanted to forfeit. Will wanted to knock his king over and end this losing game preemptively. Anything to make it stop. He knew it was all trivial, childish things but it felt like twisting a knife that was already lodged in his ribs.
No matter how much he wanted to live, he wanted to die even more. No matter how many reasons he had to keep living, his reasons to die were more compelling. He's been fighting so many battles, playing so many games in these last few years and he couldn't possibly win them all. Hell, he couldn't even win one. So he opted to lose the war and as a result, all the battles that were plaguing his mind would stop altogether. Will the wise would never give up this easily...but Will was no longer some brave cleric but rather just Will, no one special. It sounded cowardly, he was aware, but he had no other solution.
He was grasping at loose straws to keep himself from finally falling into the void.
So he decided to stop grasping.
He looked up one last time, hoping to see a glimmer in the stars. Something, someone, telling him not to do it. Telling him to take a step away from the edge. That his miserable life shouldn't end with a miserable death. But everything stayed the same. The stars didn't stop dancing in the heavens, the wind didn't stop whistling through the trees. The night critters didn't stop calling to the moon. Everything was the same. Will truly wasn't special.
He broke into hysterics. He couldn't believe it; months of wanting to just end it all, call it quits, waiting for the world to just fade to black so all the pain and emotions could stop, and here he was hoping some holy being would come down and tell him it wasn't worth it and that he should live.
Even in his last minutes on earth, he found a way to make himself so utterly pathetic. Making a fool of himself seemed to be his only natural talent.
Laughter filled the air around him, almost seeming as if it wasn't his laugh but rather that of the stars. The laughter kept going and going until his stomach ached and his throat burned. The laughter didn't stop until it turned into screaming sobs. He sobbed until it felt like his guts were going to spill from his mouth. Everything about the once cheerful and happy boy was gone and he was left with only one thought: "God, I'm so pathetic."
Shakily, Will inched towards the quarry drop. There was such morbid irony in his choice of the quarry, it was the only place he could think of. Deep down he hoped he would see his friends rush to him as they did so many years before. He wondered how long it would take for someone to notice he was gone and he wondered how much longer will it take for them to find his body. Would they even find his letter or would they just accept his departure to the stars, silly little Will, who cracked under pressure, was dead. He didn't know and he wasn't going to find out. He made his peace with that the moment he stopped his car next to the quarry.
Forlorn and broken, the boy stood at the edge of the drop. He stood and stared at the water below, for a great amount of time. Finally, the boy silently stepped forward onto the receiving air...
William Byers jumped.
___
Mike's day started with panic overtaking his body. He jumped up, falling over himself in his haste to get out of his sweat-soaked sheets. His mind was still frazzled, Mike was functioning purely on instinct. His breathing was shallow and his body was cold, yet sweat was pooling at every possible place it could. His body rejected every ounce of oxygen the atmosphere had to offer. Leaving his lungs to ache and burn. It was an odd feeling, his entire body was frozen but his lungs were on fire, neither influencing each other instead teaming up, causing Mike to shake from the pain.
One part of him wanted to just crawl back into his bed and close his eyes, letting the lack of oxygen knock him out but the other part of him wanted to take a deep breath and act like everything was normal. He decided to try the latter, a choice he made almost every morning.
The boy choked out a breath trying with all his might to not make any loud noises. Mike lived by a simple rule; never grab attention. It was quite easy, he would force himself to dress like everyone else, talk like everyone else, have normal friends like everyone else even date like everyone else. He has gotten used to playing the mimic. Except when it was early morning, of a day he couldn't remember the name of, with the sun just peeking out from the horizon. When his resolve broke more than it normally would. When his breath got lost between his lungs and mouth and he was stuck in a perpetual state of exhaustion and liveliness. He came to the conclusion that his body and mind were constantly fighting against each other, a while ago.
Logically, this shouldn't have been distressing, it was nothing new but Mike always convinced himself of the worst. At this point, he was sure he was dying. His body was as stiff as a board yet he couldn't stop shaking like a leave in the wind. Up was down and left was right, mornings like these had a funny way of messing with his common sense. It felt as if he was falling, down and down deeper into the black that painted the corners of his vision.
A knock was what ripped him back into reality. He had to compose himself quickly before someone sees him like this, especially his mother.
"Mike, are you awake?"
Mike wanted to scream in frustration. Of course of all the people that would be awake at this ungodly hour, it would be his mother. If she saw him like this it would be the end for sure. So he did what he does best, lied, and played a role.
He tried to open his mouth, tried to force words through his teeth but nothing would come out. He was ready with some snarky remark about how early it was or just groaning tiredly in hopes to drive his mother away from the door. Yet all the words seemed to die on his tounge and muddle in his head. Perhaps his silence would be mistaken for slumber but he doubted his mother would leave at that.
And true enough, a second knock came, louder and slightly closer to his doorknob. Her voice urged the same question from before. Mike could feel his vision darkening and his breath getting even shallower. His teeth were clattering and he was sure the sheer volume would notify his mother that he was indeed awake. Reality was once again beginning to slip through is fingers and he could do nothing but lay his back against the wall and accept his fate. He heard his mother sigh faintly through his haze and then her retracting footsteps.
Bile was quickly rising up his throat and he could barely fight off the nausea but getting up and walking to the bathroom was out of the question. His mouth was drying up and his lips suddenly felt cracked and swollen. Black dots were dancing in his vision and he swore they morphed together to form the vague shape of a human. Just as fast as his fuzzy mind could recognize the shape, the black seemed to multiply until he was completely sedated.
Mike wasn't sure how long he was asleep, it could have been seconds, minutes, hours even days, but considering his family didn't make a big deal of him sitting down for breakfast, he assumed he slept for a couple of hours. After he expertly spit all of his breakfast into his napkin and threw it in the dustbin without anyone noticing, he silently moved towards his room.
Yet again, his silence was caught by his mother. Mike felt her eyes follow him up the stairs and, despite his better judgement, he turned to look at her. As soon as their eyes met, her softened making his harden. He didn't need her sympathy. Hell, there's wasn't anything to be sympathetic about. He was just a normal sixteen year old who just so happened to have fought interdemintional demons.
Even his own denial was starting to sound forced but he couldn't bring himself to accept his mother's comfort. With that thought he turned his back towards her and stalked up the stairs. He barely heard her soft sigh. His loud footfalls led right to his room door and he quickly entered the relative safety of it. Mike could feel his chest constricting painfully again but he ignored it, the panic could wait until he left his house to take ahold. He grabbed whatever was on his floor and changed before quietly and quickly leaving.
The bike trip to Hopper's cabin was uneventful and yet unnerving. His small town was left in disarray. It had been eight months since Vecna claimed his four victims, so far nothing worth noting has happened and that was terrifying. Mike would much rather prefer fighting the demon head-on then wait for it to make the first move. Especially when his town was slowly decaying, people he grew up with were leaving, people he considered friends were dying. Even his high school was turned into a homeless shelter. It felt like the upside down already took hold of his world and no one took the liberty of informing him.
Before Mike really registered that he was knocking on the Byers-Hopper's door, the door opened.
"Hey, El." Mike said causally.
"Hey."
El's tone took Mike by surprise. The sadness in it almost made Mike run but the sharp edge too it almost dared Mike to do just that, just so El could have an excuse to beat him up.
Mike wasn't sure what to do but he opted to swoop in and give El a hug. The moment his arms encased El, it seemed something snapped in her. Her arms clung to Mike as if he was her last lifeline.
"Are...Can I come in?" Mike almost felt like beating himself up, had he really fallen so far from grace that he couldn't even ask his girlfriend what was wrong. However, Mike comforted himself in the fact that El was probably worried about Max. El slowly stepped back, releasing Mike.
"Yes...yes, sorry."
El moved out of the doorway, making room for Mike to enter. Mike could barely move out of the door's path before El slammed it shut, a bit harder than she usually would, and started to lead Mike away from it. Almost as if Mike was just taken hostage. That thought alone had him coming up with several escape routes. The whole situation made Mike want to turn and run with his tail tucked between his legs.
The pair walked towards El's room before El thought better of it and turned towards the living room. Mike noted her weird behavior and a feeling of intense dread washed over him. Why did Will call him last night?
As they entered, the pair split up. Both seeming to want too put as much distance between each other as possible. Mike sat down on one of the couches in the far corner, he desperately wanted to pull his knees close to his chest. It was his only form of protection and the way El acted told him he definitely needed some. Except, he never did, it would show weakness and Mike Wheeler tried his best to never show weakness. A value his father past down to him.
When El finally sat down next to Mike after five minutes of walking up and down in front of the couches, Mike couldn't keep his curiosity at bay but deep down he knew whatever El had to say was not going to be pleasant. The pair opened and closed there mouths a few times, neither knowing how to start the conversation. They just sat there in silence, time almost slowing down. Mike wanted to ask what was wrong and El was searching for the right words to answer his unspoken question. They sat there for a long time, silence consuming both of them. Almost to the point of suffocation. Finally Mike took a deep breath.
"Where's Will?"
There was a pause. El looked at him bewildered as if the words he just spoke was utterly stupid.
"Did you not hear about Will?" Her voice was low and shakey.
"No?"
"Seriously?" The disappointment in her voice was almost enought to make Mike go through with his half baked escape plans.
Mike shook his head.
"He...He..." El took a breath and looked away from the boy beside her before looking into his eyes again. She once again opened and closed her mouth and Mike took that as his cue to pry for more information.
"He what, El?"
"He...three days ago..." El looked down at her lap as if realizing something. "How could they take that long?"
"What happened?" Mike was getting desperate, it has been close to a half an hour since he's walked through El's door and he was getting more and more antsy and confused by the second.
"At the quarry...he..."
Mike didn't know what was going on but even he couldn't stop the mechanisms in his head from turning. Last time any of them were close to the quarry, Will was...
"Please just tell me, El."
"You really do not know?"
Mike shook his head. El looked over Mike's confused face, inspecting him, trying to gauge the reaction she would get from the boy. In turn Mike studied El, noting her puffy eyes that were filling with tears again, the dark eyebags that accompanied them. It almost felt like El was begging Mike to just understand what she was trying to say, just so that the words wouldn't have to be spoken into reality. Whatever was about to leave El's mouth would be anything but good news.
"Will...killed himself. Sunday night." El finally spat out. Her voice cracked slightly and he could see tears starting to run down her cheeks.
...What?
Will? Will Byers? No, no, Will couldn't have killed himself. He saw Will just yesterday or was that the day before? It might have been last week but Mike was sure he would know if his best friend was dead for three days. Will couldn't be dead, definitely not Will Byers. His best friend, Will Byers. His always happy and positive best friend wouldn't kill himself. Will wasn't dead. El simply meant another Will who they knew. They knew many Wills, or well at least more than one, right? That Will was dead not their Will. Not Will Byers. Definitely not Will Byers.
Oh please, dear God. Not Will Byers.
"Will who?" Mike couldn't keep himself from asking. His brain was going into overdrive and logic was no longer in his vocabulary. Or perhaps he just didn't want to accept the truth that had been layed out in front of him.
For a minute El's face didn't betray any of her emotions until anger flashed in her eyes.
"Will. Will Byers. My brother...your best friend." The bitterness in El's tone was causing anger to rear it's ugly head in Mike and he was sure if he could move his head to look at El, her eyes would show nothing but disappointment as it so often did.
"That can't be, he called me last night. On the phone, Mom yelled it was him."
"That was me, Mike. You did not answer. Will is dead."
His body was paralyzed for the second time since he woke up, no matter how much he wanted to move he couldn't figure out what to do with himself so he kept still. Mike wasn't sure if he wanted to scream until his lungs gave out or hit something until his fingers broke. It almost felt like his body was itching, itching to do something and yet he could barely notice the dull ache of his needs.
He felt numb.
Mike couldn't feel his face fall into his hands. Mike couldn't hear the string of nonsensical 'no's' that came out of his mouth. Mike couldn't hear the words El said. Because of what she already said...
Will Byers was dead.