Chapter Text
September, 1975
Will Byers didn't always feel particularly lonely. His mother packed his lunch each morning, his brother brought him new cassettes to listen to, and even some days, kids in his class would peek over his shoulder and compliment his newest drawing of crayons. His father was the only person who made him feel truly and utterly alone in this blooming world.
Lonnie Byers was an angry, cruel man. His world was bleak, full of empty bottles and breath reeking cigarette smoke. He yelled at anyone who could possibly disobey, or even insult him. The victim of much of this anger happened to be his own family— in specific, his son, William.
Jonathan Byers, being the eldest son, did what he could to shield Will from their father's anger, but it only worked to an extent. Sure, the more miniscule moments of Lonnie’s anger were hidden from Will, making sure he was still safe and mentally intact as much as he could be, but there were still moments where these were only meek attempts. In these larger moments, he would play Will some music off his Walkman, and shut the door to close out as much noise as possible. Lonnie's screams echoed the house in a way that was purely horrifying, even for a teenager.
Still, Jonathan did his best. Occasionally, he even yelled back at his father— truly, who was Lonnie Byers to yell at his four year old son in such a heinous, cruel way? No child should have to worry what slur their father would throw their way, or what insult would be screamed through the walls that were supposed to be the safest place on Earth for them.
When Castle Byers was built, it was quickly turned into the hideaway that the brothers needed. They were able to blast the music louder, not being within the house itself. Jonathan felt, relievingly so, that Will would be hidden better outside in the fort than he ever would have been within his bedroom.
The Clash bounced off the walls of the small fort, all the while the youngest boy stayed blissfully unaware– as much as he could be– from the insults his father threw.
On one particularly awful night, Lonnie had brought his anger forward far before Jonathan could take the measures to stop it. Will had been coloring at the kitchen table, using the crayons Joyce had gotten him only a few weeks ago. The drawing wasn't anything important, just a simple sunset with a couple trees. Quite obviously so, he hadn't been provoking anything. Yet, his alcohol-stricken father took this hobby as a personal insult to his reputation.
Lonnie spotted his son at the table, and cackled that cruel, mocking laugh of his. “Joyce, I cannot believe you are continuing to instigate this!”
Joyce, who had been mindfully scrubbing the counter only a few feet away, looked up in confusion. “Excuse me?” She furrowed her brows, dropping the rag to the marbled surface beneath her hands.
“His fucking drawings, Joyce!” Lonnie huffed, throwing his arms in the air. “This is no hobby for a man, especially not my son. You are instigating him. Are you trying to raise a faggot?” He spat mockingly.
Will put his crayons down, wrapping his arms around his torso. This action, though, apparently only served to anger his father further. Lonnie took heavy steps forward, grabbing his youngest son by the collar of his yellow shirt. Will gulped, trying to face away from his father.
“You fucking fairy!” Lonnie yelled into the boy's ear, making Will whimper. Even Joyce, who was stuck in a stunned fear, winced at the loudness. “You look at me while I am addressing you.” He grumbled bitterly, looking at Will in pure disgust.
Will, being the meek boy he is, turned to face his father. Though, as if this was an even bigger disgrace, Lonnie quickly slammed his son back into his chair. That was not the end of the father's anger, the boy realized, as he felt a stinging pain sharply hit against his face.
Tears welled up in his eyes. Distantly, he could hear his father screaming for him to say something, anything that would dissipate his anger. But Will couldn't. His voice was trapped in his throat, the only thing coming out being the soft whimpers of his quiet sobs.
Jonathan, who hadn't been home when it all began, entered the kitchen with a horrified expression. His mother and father stood on either side of the table, Lonnie yelling obscenities while Joyce, though screaming all the same, tried to talk any ounce of sense into him. His little brother, however, was still sitting at the table, tears running down his blotchy cheeks. A sharp, purple bruise stood out on his face, a testament to what the eldest son hadn't witnessed.
Taking the initiative, Jonathan dropped his bag at the door and sprinted towards his little brother with caring hands. He managed to get Will up and out of the chair, quickly ushering him out of the house and back towards the safety of Castle Byers.
Briefly, Will thought that maybe, in some messed up way, his father was right about something being wrong with him. That his brother, who was endlessly concerned for him, who cared for him in the depths of the night, was protecting the wrong person.
Jonathan gently steered Will towards the familiar floor of their hideaway, kneeling down next to him in concern.
“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” The older boy murmured, cupping his brother's face with a frown. Will didn't respond, just sniffled as he gazed at the other.
Jonathan waited for a response that never came. His worry only seemed to increase, but in some far away place in his mind, he understood. Instead of pressuring Will further to speak, which he had seen his father do countless times, he just backed away and looked around the fort for anything that could be useful to calm Will down for the time being. He turned on The Clash, as he usually did, letting the music fill the air. The blanket the two kept inside was promptly wrapped around Will, letting the soft fabric hold him close.
Once he was sure that Will was as comfortable as he could be, Jonathan crept back inside for an icepack. Joyce and Lonnie had moved to the living room, making the kitchen accessible for Jonathan's mission. He grabbed the icepack with an eerie quietness, wrapping it in a dish towel from the drawer next to him. He looked around, quickly taking two of the cookies his mother made a day ago, and ventured back outside to his little brother.
When Jonathan returned, the tears on Will’s face had dried up for the most part, and he had his arms wrapped around himself in an act of self preservation.
Quietly, Jonathan handed Will the cookies, placing the ice pack against his cheek.
“We will get out of here someday, yeah?” The elder brother murmured, smiling. Will didn't reply, but Jonathan didn't expect him to.
Recently, Will had slowly been drawing into himself more and more. In these tense, or escalating moments, he would simply shut down— he couldn't bring himself to speak. At first, Jonathan thought he was sick. Thought that maybe something happened, or his throat had some sort of ailment, anything that would've explained the situation any further.
Yet, there was nothing physically wrong with Will at all. He would simply get overwhelmed, and his brain would cause him to go quiet. He couldn't help it, and even at some points only overwhelmed himself further by trying to force himself into speaking.
Jonathan tried to understand as best he could, but he knew he would never fully get it, as he wasn't experiencing anything as Will was.
Still, he sat with his little brother in these moments. Sometimes there would be music that he'd play, something he knew Will would enjoy. Other times it was video games, or just a piece of paper and some crayons. While he didn't truly know what Will was going through, the least he could do was be there for him— especially when nobody else was.
Jonathan tried to not worry too hard. He knew, deep down, that Will was able to handle himself, but he couldn't help it. Will was still just a kid; and absolutely no child should have to experience half of what he has.
Joyce tries her hardest to be there for both Will and Jonathan, but she is only human. Humans are bound to make mistakes, and hers happens to be the devil of the man she married. Though, even if Jonathan believed that to be true, he didn't fault his mother for it. Lonnie is just as bad to the boys as he is to his own wife. She cannot, in any sense, control his outbursts. Jonathan just hopes, a little pessimistically, that she leaves him sooner rather than later.
So, while their mother was busy working, or trying to conceal Lonnie’s anger just to herself rather than the boys, Jonathan stepped up to be the person that Will needed him to be. He became the one that said goodnight after they ate dinner together, the person who tucked him in after a particularly loud fight with their parents, and, most importantly, the person who iced his cheek from the vibrant bruises their father left behind.
Jonathan didn't mind, though— it was his job as his older brother to be there in every possible way. It wasn't some chore that was forced onto him, it's his responsibility.
Jonathan kept watch as Will calmed down, eating his cookies in what was hoped to be peace. He would've asked, but he didn't want to overwhelm him anymore. After a little while, he went to sit next to Will, wrapping his arm around him. Will leaned into his brother, sighing. Distantly, the two could still hear their parents screaming from inside the house.
“I swear to you,” Jonathan assured. “We will make it out of here. Out of this awful town, away from that awful man who hardly knows us. You have nothing to worry about.”
He ruffled Will’s hair, draping an old blanket atop of the both of them. In the back of Jonathan's mind, he knew they would be okay. It could take years, maybe a decade, but he knew they'd make it out. The music drifted through the wooden walls, providing a sense of safety to the two.
“You know I'm always there for you, right?” Jonathan said, letting the music fill his ears. He looked down at Will, who simply nodded with glossy eyes.
“You can come to be about anything. Bullies in your school, what teachers are exceptionally heinous, our.. horrific ass of a father.” He nudged Will, who giggled slightly at the comment.
There was a look on Will’s face. Jonathan knew it quite well— unmasked comfort. When Will was overwhelmed, and the world got too much too quick, he tended to hide everything. Not just his voice, but his feelings, too. It was as if he couldn't let himself feel anything, not without the anticipation of pain. But when Will finally smiled, giggled, let out any sign that he was okay, Jonathan couldn't help but feel wholly relieved.
Will didn't deserve this life, and Jonathan would be damned if he didn't make him know it as often as he could.
January, 1990
College was the saving grace from Hawkins. First, Jonathan went— he was accepted for a full ride to New York University, and left as soon as he could. He hugged his mother tightly, and held Will close, before putting the rest of his boxes in his beat up car. Jonathan gazed at his family, the small one they had slowly built, and smiled. Hopper patted his back, and El slipped a pressed flower into the pocket of his jacket. Before they all knew it, Jonathan drove off down that same rocky road they grew up on.
Will had taken Jonathan's departure especially hard. His brother, the one who got him through the hardest of times, had left him there in the small town of Hawkins. Will was mad, then upset, with a finishing of understanding, all in a treacherous cycle. It wasn't that he wanted Jonathan to stay there, it was more that he wanted to go with him.
He still called the Hopper-Byers household from time to time, at least a couple per month. He talked of the most mundane things— what his roommate did that pissed him off, what new food the dining hall had, even the big city life Will had dreamed of.
Will and El were next in line for the “University Life”. Both of them were overwhelmed with the thought of what they could do without being condemned to life in Hawkins. All of The Party– Mike, Lucas, Dustin, Will, Max, and El– got into the biggest college in Indiana: Indiana State University. Not only would they be going somewhere much bigger than themselves, but they wouldn't be separated.
Will had been accepted with a fifteen-thousand dollar scholarship into the studio art program, having submitted his impressively large portfolio well in advance. Easy to say, Mike gave him a huge kiss when he announced the news.
“Will! That's amazing!” Mike had yelled in joy, picking Will up and spinning him around. They had called Jonathan together later that night, Mike wrapped tightly around him as his body pulsed with pure excitement.
“Jonny,” Will had mumbled into the old landline. “I got in. I did it.” He could practically feel his older brother beaming at him through the phone.
But that was a year ago. Now, Will was fully moved into university. He shared his dorm with Lucas, who was majoring in sports medicine. Even if he didn't entirely understand all of Will’s art supplies and assignments, he was sure to give him the dorm when it was needed.
Down the hall, Mike and Dustin shared their own dorm. Mike's parents had paid for his tuition entirely, though not exactly thrilled that he was pursuing a career in creative writing. If it was up to Ted, Mike would be stuck in boring lectures for a boring major that was more practical than the one he had now. Dustin, on the other hand, got a full ride into a robotic engineering program within the university— to which his mom still wouldn't stop crying over.
On another floor, Max and El also had a dorm. El had decidedly chosen to go to be a children's therapist, ensuring nobody had to grow up the way she did. Max, however, was spunky when it came down to picking something, before choosing occupational theory— Max and El ended up sharing classes due to her choice, at the thrill of both of them.
Still, to Will, something was missing. Sure he had everything he wanted; his friends close, in a big city far more accepting, and even classes he felt genuinely interested in. Something was wrong, though. Mike noticed it.
Will had been laying on Mike's bed, wrapped up in all the blankets he could find. The snow was falling exceptionally quickly, the cold chilling the walls of the dorms. Call it seasonal depression, call it whatever you want, but Mike could tell something was wrong with him. Will had been going quiet far more than usual, which troubled Mike slightly as he attempted to figure out the depth of his boyfriend's feelings.
It didn't take long, to no shock. Mike knew everything about Will, inside and out. When Will glanced particularly long at a photo of himself, Mike, and Jonathan, the latter was able to put the pieces together.
That evening, Will was curled up in Mike's arms, fast asleep. He hadn't talked since first arriving at Mike's dorm, but he didn't mind. Mike never minded when it came to Will. Mike had dialed Jonathan's number as soon as he knew that Will was out of it enough to not wake him.
“Hello?” The older voice came though.
“Jonathan? Hey, it's Mike.” He replied quietly, though not unkindly.
“Oh, hello Mike! Is everything okay? Is Will..?” Jonathan trailed off, getting increasingly more worried.
“No! I mean, yes, everything is okay! Will is perfectly fine, I mean he is thriving here.” Mike assured quickly.
“Then what exactly is this about?”
“I think he's getting homesick,” Mike admitted. “He's been shutting down more often and.. I think if you came to visit, at least for a little, it would really brighten his days.”
“Mike..”
“I know! It sounds a little stupid. He's able to handle himself, and I am always there for him at every step of the day. I swear I am—”
“I believe you, Mike.”
“—But I think there's some things best left for.. well, brothers? If anything, it would cheer him up immensely. Is it.. too early to ask if you are able to come?”
Jonathan chuckled through the phone. “For my brother? Nothing is too quick or short of notice. I'll see what I can do, yeah? We will keep it a surprise for now.”
Mike let out a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding. He glanced down at Will, who was still asleep in his arms restfully. “Yeah. A surprise.” He breathed, brushing the bangs out of Will’s face.
A week later, Jonathan flew in. He had been getting more money from an internship back in New York City, making him able to set some money away for instances like this. He had a couple suitcases, informing Mike a few days beforehand that he would be staying for two weeks before the spring semester began.
Jonathan was staying with Robin, who had also gone to Indiana State University a couple years back, moving to the city to pursue a career on the radio. She still had a couple classes before her soon graduation, opting to get an apartment near both the campus and her job. He had been so thankful she let him stay with her, endlessly telling her for the days leading up to the trip.
Mike drove Will to the airport, though luckily didn't inform him of where they were going exactly. He thrummed his fingers against the steering wheel, listening to whatever music Will had put on. Again, he wasn't talking, but that was perfectly fine with Mike. He adored his boyfriend to no end, even in silence.
Will had fallen asleep at some point, waking up to Mike nudging him gently. “We're here,” he mumbled kindly.
Will looked up at him with a hint of confusion, looking around. “The airport,” Mike filled in. “I have a surprise for you.”
Mike was smiling brightly as he led Will out of the car and inside the large building. They waited for no longer than half an hour before Will saw him— his brother, luggage in hand, walking towards the duo.
Practically crying, Will ran towards Jonathan, latching onto him. Jonathan quickly caught him, one arm hugging him close while the other landed on Will’s head. “God, I've missed you,” the older murmured, running his fingers through his brother's hair. “You are growing up so quick, it's been how long since I've seen you?”
Will didn't answer, quietly crying into his brother's shoulder. Jonathan glanced up at Mike, who looked increasingly more worried. The silence stretched, but neither moved. They just took in each other and all the time that had passed. After a couple minutes, Mike stepped forward, rubbing his hand up and down Will’s back. The brothers parted, Will wiping his tears with his sleeve.
He didn't speak still, but Jonathan understood. No matter how much time had passed, or how much distance stood between them, their bond would never break.
Mike led both of them back to his car. While Will sat down, Mike helped Jonathan with his luggage, giving him a slight hug also. “I really appreciate you doing this for him,” he said quietly.
Jonathan simply smiled. “It's Will. He deserves everything good, and I do what I can to make sure he gets it. I know you do, too.” He paused for a moment, gazing at Mike. “I am so happy he has someone like you. I couldn't have chosen anyone better for him.”
Mike briefly felt tears rise to his eyes, nodding solemnly. “I do everything I can. If anything happened to him, if I ever did anything to hurt him..” He gulped. “I don't think I could forgive myself.”
Jonathan clapped an arm onto Mike's shoulder. “Good. I wouldn't forgive you, either.” Still, he smiled.
Once they all arrived at Robin's apartment in the city, Mike and Will helped Jonathan to settle in, even if it was only for two weeks. They sat on the couch, watching some lousy movie that was on the television. Mike and Will were curled into each other, while Jonathan critiqued every aspect of the film. Robin sat on the floor, head thrown back in laughter at particularly cheesy moments.
Will ended up staying, though neither Jonathan nor Robin minded. He still wasn't talking, causing Mike to bite his lip slightly as he left for the night, vowing to come back in the afternoon with clothes and such for Will. He drove off in the quiet of the night, leaving the three in the apartment.
Blankets were piled on the couch for Will, always seeming to be cold during the season. He felt so overwhelmed with his brother coming to visit, that he just seemed to sit there, listening to Jonathan's rambles about film school and the next short movie he was directing. Eventually, though, Will fell asleep, tucked into the soft blankets of Robin's couch. Jonathan crashed nearby, having smoked a little before Will fell asleep, causing Jonathan to follow suit not long after.
The morning that followed was not unpleasant. Instead, it was exciting. Robin cheerfully made breakfast in some far off attempt to not burn the food, while Will turned on music in the living room. Jonathan was talking about the most recent concert he went to, with Will nodding animatedly along to his stories.
Though silent, Jonathan knew his brother was listening to him. He had been like this since a kid, and never once did he think to judge Will for it. He couldn't help it, and Jonathan knew that. He appreciated, though, how Will made sure Jonathan knew he cared, and just how deeply he enjoyed his company.
Robin came in during this conversation– rather, Jonathan's ramble– holding plates of food for the three of them. While Will ate, the two older ones engaged in an excited talk about life, their friends, and anything else they could think of. Will was just happy to listen.
Will’s stomach was still airy with excitement. He usually went silent when in particular distress, but sometimes excitement seemed to take control of his body even further. He felt it in his bones, throughout all of him, as if it was swallowing him whole. The feeling alone was enough to make him go quiet, but with the addition of his brother's visit, it wasn't shocking that he had spent so long without speaking.
Will ended up staying for almost the entirety of Jonathan's visit. Sometimes Will would start talking– really, never being able to stop– about the things going on with him; the things that were too personal for a telephone conversation. Other times, he would keep quiet, moving to just listen to Jonathan, Robin, or whoever else that came to visit.
Mike would come by every so often, giving Will more clothes and greeting him with a kiss on the forehead. Will would blush so prettily when he did, making Mike practically melt at the sight. The adoration he had for Will was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Sometimes he would stay the night at Robin's, curled up in Will’s arms, or even vice versa. Other times, he would leave the brothers to spend their time alone.
On the final night of Jonathan's stay, Will felt himself riddled with nerves all over again. His stomach churned and squelched in discern. He didn't want Jonathan to leave again, not after he just got to see him again. Soon, both of them would be busy with school. Jonathan has to return to his internship in the city, and Will has to navigate a new studio for his classes.
Will feared that when this time comes, he won't have the time to talk to his brother anymore. That they'll slowly drift apart, getting lucky to speak to each other once a month.
Realistically, Will knew not to be afraid of such things. All of the first semester, he always found time for Jonathan, and Jonathan for him. There was no need to even feel concerned— they saw each other for the holidays and breaks, anytime they really had an excuse to. Just because he is going back to New York soon doesn't mean that'll suddenly change.
Though, Will wished these reassurances would actually set in with him. Instead, they were fleeting thoughts in his mind as he curled into himself. Jonathan had gone to get a drink from the kitchen, only to be met with the worrying sight of Will upon re-entering.
He set his glass on the side table, quickly moving to sit next to Will. “Hey, bud, what's wrong? What's going on?” Jonathan asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
Will just blinked at him, body trembling as if about to cry. Jonathan nodded, wrapping an arm around his brother. “I know,” he mumbled. “I'm sad to be leaving as well.”
Those words were what led Will to start crying, tucking his head against Jonathan's shoulder. Jonathan hugged him even closer, sighing. His hand rubbed gently up and down Will’s back, just as it did when he first arrived.
“We will still call, like, every week, you know.” Jonathan smiled, looking at his brother. “You can't get rid of me that easily, college be damned.”
Will only sniffled in reply.
The two ended up falling asleep like that, tangled up between each other just as they did when they were still kids. Robin walked in early in the morning, choosing to let the brothers sleep.
Mike came in the early evening, helping to load Jonathan's things into the back of his car. He gave an especially long hug to his boyfriend. Even though some of it was more secondhand, he knew how much Jonathan helped Will growing up. Jonathan, for the most part, was the sole reason why Will survived their father. When their mom was working, or their father was drunk, Jonathan was the one who got Will into the safest place he could be.
Easy to say, Mike understood the need to be clingy. Especially given the fact that Will only got to seek him during the breaks from school, Mike could almost feel the dread of leaving as deeply as his boyfriend was.
Will gave Jonathan one last hug, watching as he walked away. Mike stood there at his side, arm wrapped tightly around him.
Just as Jonathan had assured, they were exactly the same after the trip had concluded, if not happier. Jonathan called Will as soon as he came back to his apartment in New York, talking about how awful the plane ride had been.
Will knew, deep down, that he was loved and cared for. Despite everything, especially what Will thought was wrong with himself, his brother was there. Even if he wasn't physically there with him, Will knew how deep their bond was.
Jonathan would be there for Will, forever. Nobody could take that away from either of them– the unbridled care of a brother.