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Chapter Text

Will was having a bad enough day as it was.

His best friend had flown in, barely even touched him, no hug or embrace whatsoever. Said best friend also started ignoring him for Will's step-sibling, while the rest of his family and Mike had completely forgotten about his fifteenth birthday.

He couldn't really blame his mom. While it did hurt, she'd been really busy with work lately, probably too much to have even peeked at her calender.

Jonathan was, per what was becoming the usual, too high to think clearly. That did annoy Will a little more.

El was...El, she just didn't really understand the concept of birthdays yet. He didn't really care if she cared.

Mike, on the other hand, as well as his other friends back in Hawkins, did stab him deeper. He hadn't even gotten a call from anyone. It shouldn't be bothering him as much as it was, since he didn't really care about his birthday anymore. Yet, for some reason, this was adding salt to the wound of everyone already forgetting him.

So, here the young Byers boy was, gently pushing himself along the rink behind his friends. Alone. Forgotten. Hurting. 

In love.

Will watched the duo skate further and further ahead. He realized then that they probably wouldn't even notice if he left, so as soon as he caught sight of an exit, he stepped out of the rink and made his way over to the food stand. 

His mother gave him a good twenty dollars. It was enough to get himself a chocalate smoothie and a cup of fries. Looking back at the skaters, he saw Mike and El still hand and hand rolling around. They seemed to only notice themselves and no one else.

It should've been heartwarming. 

It was gross. 

The chocalate liquid mixed with sugary whipped cream slipped easy down his throat. It actually did well to relieve some of Will's stress.

A few more sips and fries later, and suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey there, Will."

It was Gabriella, a girl that sat in a few of his classes (including English and History, both of which he had with El also). She seemed okay, despite hanging out with Angela and her gang -- Eleven's bullies. She wasn't very loud like them, but she also wasn't the quiet sitting-in-the-corner type. 

She often used body language more than words. This could be seen in the multiple times she'd attemped to bump arms or rub legs with Will during classes. Each time, Will pulled away awkwardly, uncomfortably. He always felt guilty when he did.

It's not my fault you don't like girls!

Will found himself shifting in his seat as Gabriella sat across from him in the booth. She smiled in a way that sent shivers down his spine (not in the way it was probably supposed to, he believed). 

"H-Hey, Gabbi," he replied as smooth as possible. It came out tense and shaky nonetheless. 

"Who's that?"

Will turned to see her looking at Mike and El, and he shrugged.

"Um, my, uh, best friend. El's boyfriend." 

She looked surprised, and almost smug. 

"So your sister wasn't lying about having one, then?"

This understandibly annoyed Will. 

Friends don't lie.

"No. She's not a liar."

Gabriella simply hummed and looked away. Her eyes, while looking down, could be seen with stubborness and an embaressing flirty emotion. 

Will was caught up in this, almost too much to control himself when he felt her leg once again rub up and down his. 

She, being as oblivious as she was, took this as a sign that he was actually into her advances. To anyone else around, it would be clear that he really was not. 

"You know what kind of guys I like?" she muttered, loud enough for him to hear. She kept her ankle caressing his and rubbing a bit too roughly. "Guys who play hard to get. I like a good challenge."

Shit. Shit. Shit.

All that played in Will's mind was a sloan of swears and curses. 

He was sure his day couldn't get any worse -- but here he was, being flirted on by a girl who he knew he could never like back.

Because Will wasn't normal. 

"Um, I haven't been...I don't, I-"

Gabriella didn't listen. Instead, she pushed herself up out of her seat and grabbed onto Will's arm, tugging him a bit too forcefully. 

"C'mon, Byers, wanna skate?" 

No.

"Um, sure." 

So he soon found himself dragged back onto the rink, food abandoned, and hand forcefully clutched in Gabriella's. She was practically pulling him forward with her fast paced skating, leaving him stumbling a bit behind her. 

They at some point passed El and Mike, who were slowing down and getting ready to leave the rink. Eleven gave him a confused look, while Mike smiled and gave him a thumbs up in approval. While he meant to return the gesture with a fake smile, he could only feel his lips pull into a grimace. The look melted Mike's, and made him frown. 

Will was pulled away quickly before he could see his post reaction. 

Gabriella, tired of dragging Will along like a limping dog, forced her arm between his own so their arms were linked and they skated side by side. Without consent, she proceeded to lay her head on Will's shoulder. Will just kept an uncomfortable stance, which she didn't notice.

"Isn't this nice?" she mused into his ear. 

No, it really isn't.

"I-"

"How about we ditch this place? My car's just up front. My parents aren't home, so we can go to my place and...hang out."

No. No. No. No. 

Will's eyes found Mike's once again, this time outside the rink. El was sat across from him, not looking out at the skaters, which was the opposite of what Mike was doing. When Will and him looked at each other, Will didn't even care about being upset. He didn't care about being ignored the whole day. He just wanted away from this situation right at that moment, or else he might vanish again and never come back.

No, like, seriously, he actually believed he might about to be kidnapped! 

Again, he lost Mike's face, but not before it contorted into a look of knowing. A look of 'oh-so-you-aren't-comfortable-with-this-girl-touching-you.' 

That made Will feel a bit better, but not that much as he was being lead out of the roller rink and towards the building exit. 

He didn't even say 'yes' or 'no.'

Will was starting to prepare himself to just pull away and skate for his life. To find somewhere to hide and stay until his brother came back. 

And then he heard a familiar voice. He was never so happy to hear Mike in his life!

"Where are you going, Will?"

Will and Gabriella, still connected by the arm, turned to see both Mike and El behind them. Mike was hiding something between pinched lips. El wasn't really trying to conceal any agression or anger. 

"Oh, hey, Jane! It's nice to meet you, Jane's boyfriend!"

"Mike," Mike said.

"Mike," Gabbi chuckled fauxly. "Oh, we were just going to go hang out somewhere else. Right, Willy?"

Will winced. He hated that nickname.

What kind of son are you, Willy, if you can't handle a slap to the face? 

Mike took a short roll forward. 

"We, uh...we got milkshakes back at the table if you wanna hang out there, instead?" 

Will moved to go with his friends, but was stopped. Gabriella was losing her patience, and he could feel it through how tight of a grip she had on him.

"Oh, don't worry, he'll be fine coming with me. No need to worry about him, I promise."

Mike, though, was just as impatient. 

"I think Will can speak for himself."

They all turned to look at him. One expectant, one worried, and one pleading. 

Oh, boy.

Will took his bottom lip between his teeth, and, cautiously, looked back at Gabbi. 

"Look, Gabriella, I...I like you, but, not...I don't really want to leave my friends." 

Gabriella frowned. "But we could have so much fun! Don't worry..."

She leaned in close, up to his ear so only he could hear what she said next.

"...I'll make it good for both of us."

And that was the final straw. 

Will practically ripped his arm out of the girl's grip, which was enough force to make her slip backwards and grab onto a wall for balance. Her mouth went agape, completely bewildered at his move. But Will wasn't finished there.

"Look, I really do like you, Gabriella. I-I do."

No, actually. I really, really don't.

"But not like that. I-I'm sorry, but I just don't feel comfortable with you. I bet you're a really good girlfriend, o-or whatever, but I really, really can't. I can't be with you. I really haven't been playing hard to get these last couple of weeks, and I haven't at all been that interested. But I bet there is someone out there who is, and-"

Gabriella shoved him back before he could finish. It didn't make him stumble. He simply just rolled back a few feet and let his words trail off in a stutter.

"Of course," she scoffed. She suddenly wasn't at all flirtatious with him. She was disgusted. "I should've listened to Angela. She's always known you were a faggot since you came here!"

I'm not trying to raise a fucking faggot!

"And I thought your sister was the weirdo." 

One moment, Will was staring at her with a pain in his chest. The next, a chocalate milkshake was in Gabbi's hand and thrown right in his face. 

The whole rink froze in sink with him.

Ice cold liquid leaked from Will's chin down his plaid button-up.

The world paused. 

Then it sped back up, and Gabriella was rolling away back to the rink, presumably to try and fetch some other guy. Everyone else around him gave amused smiles and giggles as they too continued their day. 

Will looked at Mike and El, both similarly in horror.

Then Will turned and ran.

Chapter Text

Running, Will realized, was hard to do in skates. Especially rentals that were made of the weakest plastic ever constructed.

However, Cinderella had nothing on Will, as he easily managed to swipe the shoes off while speeding away. Hopefully he didn't get in trouble for taking them outside the building, but he really didn't care -- did it count as stealing if he left them behind? Not that he cared that much.

"Will, Will! Come back, wait!"

Mike. 

Will kept running. 

And- shit, he'd left his shoes! No wonder he could feel rocks scraping into his feet.

He wasn't paying attention while he kept running. Across the parking lot, past people just arriving who gave him strange looks. He didn't know where he was going. He just had to get away!

On the other side of the lot was a shed. It was for some maintanence building he didn't care to acknowlege, and it was a pretty safe place to hide out. 

Will found himself crawling through a gap in the bushes around the shed, between them and the brick wall. There was a small area where he had space to sit, legs pulled to his chest with some room to spare. He hoped the bushes were thick enough to keep him shielded from view.

And then he cried.

{}{}{}{}{}

His father was angry, really angry. It was nothing like Will had ever seen.

It had started when Will had accidentally forgotten to tell his mom to meet his father somewhere. He didn't even remember where. He'd only remembered his mission when his dad came back at around midnight, practically fuming at the fact that his wife hadn't shown up.

And then he'd slapped Will. Hard.

While it wasn't the first time, it certainly was one of the worst. It had been so hard that it sent Will sprawling onto the ground with an echoing smack bouncing off the walls of the living room. Will started crying, his dad started yelling, and Jonathan came in in an attempt to push him away.

When Joyce came in, she'd been pissed. 

"What the hell is wrong with you? Those are your children! Your sons-"

"They are no sons of mine if they can't stop being fucking queers and take a punch!"

"They're just kids!"

"That's the one thing we can agree on. And they will never be men, only weak little boys who-"

"Get out."

"-think they can-"

"Get out!"

"-do whatever the fuck they want without consequence-"

"GET OUT! GET OUT AND NEVER COME BACK!"

"Joyce-"

"GO!"

The front door slammed. And that was the last Will ever saw of his father. He never even got to seem him during court. 

He didn't want them anyways, so there really was no battle. 

{}{}{}{}{}

As soon as Will had shown signs of discomfort, Mike knew something was wrong.

When he first saw his friend skating hand in hand with the girl, he felt proud, but at the same time a weird pinge of some emotion he couldn't understand. It felt...annoyed? Upset? But why would he be upset that Will had landed himself a girl? He was uncertain, but still proud of him. 

Until he saw him again, after he and El left to get some drinks. They found the table they'd noticed Will sitting at earlier, his own snacks abandoned, and sat themselves there. Mike couldn't help but look out at the rink as El started talking about her friends -- Angela, if he could remember, was who she seemed closest with. 

And when Mike again made eye contact with Will, now forced arm-in-arm with the girl, he was sure something was wrong.

Will looked pleading, scared, and just outright uncomfortable.

And he realized that he didn't want to be there. He didn't want this girl touching him.

"Um, El," Mike said, cutting his girlfriend off. "I think Will needs help."

El looked up and saw the pair of kids, instant fury growing on her face. 

"Why is she here?" he heard her mutter.

He didn't ask, though he wanted to. Instead, they both got up when they saw the girl practically dragging poor Will out of the rink and towards the building exit.

Oh, hell no!

El and Mike skated up behind them, the latter piping up, "Where are you going, Will?"

When they both turned to look at them, clear relief flooded Will's face. Mike bit his lip to keep from raging out at the girl, while he felt his girlfriend next to him start to shake.

"Oh, hey, Jane!" the girl smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Jane's boyfriend!"

"Mike," Mike said.

"Mike," she giggled, clearly fake and overly so. "Oh, we were just going to go hang out somewhere else. Right, Willy?"

Will's expression said it all. 

Willy. 

Mike hasn't heard that name since...since Lonnie. Since before that bastard left the Byers for that young, obnoxious bitch in Indianapolis. He knew Will was triggered by it, that he absolutely hated it. The whole Party knew. 

Mike had to force himself to swallow the angry shouts that came crawling up his throat. Instead, he tried to keep his cool.

"We, uh...we got milkshakes back at the table if you wanna hang out there, instead?"

Will moved, but the girl pulled him back.

"Oh, don't worry, he'll be fine coming with me," she patronized. "No need to worry about him, I promise."

"I think Will can speak for himself," Mike scowled. He turned to face his friend to try and get him to come with him.

Will turned back to the girl hesitantly.

"Look, Gabriella, I...I like you, but, not...I don't really want to leave my friends."

"But we could have so much fun! Don't worry..."

Despite her leaning up close to him and using as quiet of a voice as possible, Mike could still hear her disturbing words with pure clarity. That's what sent him leaping off the edge, horror and disgust compiling together in his chest. 

He was one second away from grabbing this "Gabriella" by the hair and pulling her away from his friend. 

However, Will pushed her away for him.

And went on a rant about how he didn't want to be with Gabriella the way she wanted, and how he didn't feel comfortable. Just when Mike was about to give him a round of applause in pride, the girl pushed him back and started yelling in response.

The next thing Mike knew, there was brown and white liquid soaking into Will's shirt, and the girl was skating away with a huff.

Laughter.

Giggling.

Snorts.

What the fu-

Suddenly, Will was skating away, and Mike and El followed after him.

{}{}{}{}{}

Will Byers's life had certainly taken a turn.

One day, he was living his best ten-year-old life playing Dungeons & Dragons in his best friend/crush's basement.

And then a sudden rollarcoaster of events speeds by.

Getting kidnapped and taken into another dimension.

Running and hiding and legally dying in said realm.

Being revived, then going through shit-therapy for a few months.

Being possessed by a psycho-meat monster spider thing.

Fighting said psycho-meat monster spider thing and killing it a year later.

Being ignored and neglected by his friends for the past two years.

And now, he found himself hiding in the bushes behind a shed in front of a rollarskate rink. Crying. Smoothie drying on his clothes and face. Looking absolutely pathetic.

God, what had he done to deserve any of this? He couldn't recall any point in time where he'd made a stupid decision that would be enough to make him need all this pain and torture. Unless, of course, it was because of...because of what he was. Unless it was because of the...the thing that was inside of him, that made him like Mike the way he shouldn't. That made him obssessed with the wrong sorts of people. 

Was that it? Was that really it?

This should've made him feel a little better, but it only made him sob harder. His cries broke into the material of his jeans and were muffled. The croaks and the hiccups and the shaky breaths were all made quieter by his pants, though not by much. 

He could hear his father's voice scolding him in his head...

How could you be so pathetic? You fucking queer!

Boys and grown men don't cry, Willy, you should be ashamed of yourself!

Disgusting boy. Useless. Mistake.

No son of mine is allowed to be what you are.

Not Jonny, not you, Willy.

Cry. Just cry like the pathetic excuse for a human you are!

Will hated himself. He wasn't even sure why or for what. All he knew was that he couldn't handle any of this, anymore. He couldn't go through this pain and this pressure and this...this judgement. 

Why did the world have to be so cruel?

"Will?"

He suddenly went still. 

Shit. 

"Will, a-are you okay?"

El and Mike. They found him. 

He could see their colored figures through the brush. He couldn't see much, but he knew they could see him a bit, too. Maybe they could see all of him. Maybe they could see how pathetic and disgusting he was. Maybe-

"Will, please...please come out," El's voice whispered to him. But he wouldn't move.

"Go away," he muttered in reply. He kept his head hidden inside his arms, still wrapped around his legs. "Just t-tell me when...when my brother is h-here."

A few moments passed, and Will actually thought they had left him at his word.

So they really do hate me.

But his luck seemed to be spawning differently.

He suddenly heard and felt the bushes rattle around him, leaves gently pecking at his skin. When he looked up, he saw Mike had crawled in through the secret entrance and now sat on his knees next to him. El had come in, too, but was a little further back since there wasn't enough room suited for three.

Will looked down again quickly. 

"I-I said go away, please," he muttered. "You've been doing a pretty good job of ignoring me all day, anyway."

"Will, I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel ignored."

"Then what did you mean to do? Not that I blame you too much, I...I kind of understand, I guess."

"What do you mean?" El, to Will's surprise, asked. She reached forward as much as she could to give him a soft pat on the shoulder, trying to get him to open up. Will, not being one to be exactly open with his feelings unless he was really brought to the brink, turned away and scooted so his back was to them both. Even though he couldn't see them, their presence was still a constant feeling of unsettlement, even more so than the now dried up beverage sticking to his skin.

It was quiet again. Will liked it and hated it.

And then...

"Will..."

"Hey, whatcha guys doin' back there?"

Everyone in the bush jumped at Argyle's sudden appearence, standing above them over the other side of the wall of leaves. Jonathan was next to him, both looking extremely doped up on weed or whatever drug they took. Both gave them all drunken smiles.

While it was an awkwward situation, Will was pretty relieved they'd interupted.

Chapter Text

Will didn't say a word during the car ride home. 

He didn't have to, as Jonathan and Argyle's clearly high voices singing along to The Cure and Madonna were loud enough to drown out any attempts at talking in the back seat. Will kept his eyes trained on his legs, smashed between Mike and El's respective pairs. Occasionally, out of the corner of his eye, he'd notice Mike sneak a glance up at him. 

It was filled with worry. 

It was filled with pity.

It always was. And it pissed Will off more than he could even explain to himself.

When Argyle dropped them all off, they were greeted to an unexpected guest. Murray something-or-other from last year's fight against the Mind Flayer and Russians, was in the Byers' kitchen, cooking rissoli and pasta. 

Dinner was painfully awkward, too.

Joyce noticed her son's distressed and set her fork of noodles down.

"Honey, are you alright? You look upset."

"I'm...I'm fine, mom."

But the mother wasn't stupid. She knew her son was lying, and she hated when he did, because it was never all that often. She tried her best to communicate to her kids that they could always come to her if they needed anything; that no matter what, she'd always love them. She wanted to listen to their problems. She wanted to understand and be apart of their lives.

And that was exactly why Will tried not to tell her about the rink.

Because if he did, Joyce would do everything in her power to hunt down Gabriella and murder her with her bear hands. Honestly, Will really couldn't afford his mother going to prison with as difficult as his life currently was.

Even though she also knew the extent of her worries, Joyce tried as gently as she could to persist.

"Are you sure, Will? You aren't eating."

No, he wasn't. He didn't feel hungry at all.

"I-I...I'm fine," he lied again. He could sense Mike growing more irritated, and mentally begged him not to snitch. 

It's not like Mike deserved the right to. 

It wasn't like they were best friends anymore.

"Kid," Murray poked in, uninvited. "Don't lie. Trust me, I've studied every single book on a person's physical features and indications of certain emotions -- not for any weird reasons, but because in case we somehow managed to get our hands on a russian spy, I wanted to be prepared for interogation."

Everyone at the table rolled their eyes.

"Anyways, just don't try to sneak past me," he gestured to himself with his fork. "Cause' I ain't stupid."

Will couldn't help himself. "Yeah, well, I wasn't talking to you, was I?"

Joyce gave him a stern, scolding look. 

"Will, don't talk to our guest like that. You know your manners."

He meerly hummed an empty apology and stuck a forkfull of food into his mouth. He hoped the conversation would end then and there, but luck didn't seem quite fond of him that day.

"Will, please tell me what's wrong."

"Mom, I'm fine, I swear-"

"Please don't lie to me."

"I'm not!"

"Will-"

That's when the tension got the best of Michael Wheeler. He couldn't hold in his irritation or his silence. He just had to say something.

"Will was almost raped at the Rink-O-Mania!" Mike blurted out. He obviously wasn't thinking, because his words spelt out a completely different scenario than what he'd meant. But it was too late. Joyce's face turned sheet-white. Jonathan spat out his mouth full of noodles in surprise. 

"Wait, what?"

Will wanted to punch Mike.

"Mom, no, that's not-"

"What the hell happened! Who on heaven's good Earth would dare try to hurt my little boy? I swear to God if you don't tell me who-"

"I wasn't almost raped, mom! Mike wasn't thinking about what he was saying!"

"But I wasn't lying, really, was I?"

Will scowled at him, then softened up when he turned back to his mom.

"Mike...he, no, that isn't what happened."

"Then what did happen?"

"Well, technically she could have if me and El hadn't stepped in," Mike cut in. El shrunk back into her seat, trying to avoid being the center or anger, which made Will almost stop and comfort her.

"Mike, shut up! Look, mom, there was just this girl that goes to my school. Sometimes she looks at me weird, and-"

"Looks at you weird? Will, she was practically mind-fuc-"

"I said shut up, Michael! She just touched me and made me a little uncomfortable, it wasn't like she was going to-"

"Don't act like that when I heard exactly what she said to you before...before..."

Joyce had practically been pushed out of the picture at that point, a fight between solely Will and Mike breaking out. However, she quickly slipped her way back in before Mike could attempt to finish his stuttering thought.

"Before what?" she asked. Her face was reddening with every word being displayed. Someone was touching her boy, making him uncomfortable. Some bitch had had the audacity to hurt her boy in one of the worst ways possible. She couldn't be calm or strong over this!

Mike froze, looking over at Will, who's anger had now morphed into pleading. 

He'd quickly changed his shirt and washed his face when he got back to avoid confronting his mom. If Mike dared to tell her what happened, that would be useless now. 

Please don't. Don't tell her. Don't tell her. Don't...

Mike told her.

"That girl was trying to take him to her house or whatever, and will pushed her away and told her he didn't want it. A-And then she called him...she called him a faggot and poured a milkshake all over him!"

The table went quiet.

Joyce looked horrified. Her gaze shifted between the two boys.

Murray's eyes were wide, yet he continued eating in the awkward silence that followed.

Jonathan, despite still being partially high on weed, looked just about as upset as his mother.

El kept her eyes down on her plate, not knowing what to do.

Mike shrunk back, but kept his eyes set on Will with hardness, as if telling him, "I had to do it."

And Will...Will just sat there and didn't move. He didn't know how to respond. Nobody did.

And then he did what he typically did in these situations, the actions of fight or flight.

As per his usual choice...he fled.

Upstairs.

Slammed his door shut.

Locked it.

And slipped down onto the floor to cry once more.

Chapter Text

Everyone would tell you that Will’s favorite coping mechanism was art.

Because it was.

This was shown in all of his sketches, drawings, and now his new found admiration for painting. He found that the act of blending colors was an extraordinary way to bring an image to life in a way coloring in a drawing really couldn’t. And while he usually preferred to keep his hands clean while he sketched out a small version of a bad memory, painting gave him more room to bring an emotion to life.

It wasn’t any different now. He’d ignored to desperate attempts from everyone else (even Murray, if you could believe it) to talk to him, and spent a few hours of his night just…working. 

His brush automatically moved with ease across a blank canvas, as if his mind had already sent a message of what it wanted to create before even it did. Will simply found himself bringing his inner conflict out, pouring the scars and hits from today out onto this simple piece of painting paper.

Occasionally, he’d eye the abandoned painting on his bed. Meant for Mike, the very same boy who forgot his birthday and left him to third-wheel around most of the day. The very same boy he hated to know he had feelings for.

Remembering everything that happened that morning made him feel sick.

Mike didn’t care. Not like he once did.

And that only inspired Will to keep painting, and painting, and painting, until he finally finished up at around one in the morning.

He admired the image for a moment.

Himself in the middle of a grand scope of circles, filled with familiar scenes.

Circle one had him portrayed as he skated behind a happy-go-lucky Mike and El. Alone and forgotten.

Circle two pictured Mike barely acknowledging Will’s existence at the airport.

Circle three showed him off to the side as he watched El getting bullied — he just stood there, not even attempting to stop them. He was a shitty brother.

Circle four reflected his project on Alan Turing, being scorned and laughed at by his classmates. Calling him words he really wished never existed.

Circle five was of his father. It was of him calling him Willy one final time as he was halfway out the door. Never to return. Never to come back. 

Circle six was of Gabbi whispering in his ear, holding his hand a little too tight and lingering her hand on his waist. Will’s painted version of his face showed easy awkwardness and fear; it was how he believed he might’ve looked to Mike and El back when it had happened.

Circle seven was the events that occurred right after he pulled away from Gabriella. The milkshake was splattered all over his button-up plaid, people around were watching gleefully, and Gabbi was screaming that word at him, again.

And then there was circle eight. The worst of them all. It was of the Mind Flayer, it’s smoky black tentacle-like limbs floating among a red and stormy sky. It was almost exactly what he’d drawn a few years ago, right before he’d been possessed. Of course, this time it was different in how it was presented, yet it still held the exact same fear as the other art did.

Again, a painted Will stood in the middle of all these images. His shirt was covered in milkshake and blood, torn up in multiple spots and showing bits of bloody skin and flesh. This was the part of the painting Will really focused on.

It wasn’t because he really even knew what he was doing. He just followed what his subconscious was ordering him to do.

Will’s feet were bare and dirty. His hands were stuck out to the side, his legs partially spread similarly but still close enough not to seem inappropriate-like. His body seemed almost in a kind of trance, like it was suspended in the air, or floating like a weightless balloon.

His face, though, was the most confusing of it all.

His hair was shaggy, still clearly in the same haircut he’d had for his entire childhood, but still messier than usual. It helped balance out to strange paleness to his face.

While Will knew he was as white as could be, he also knew this was an abnormal color on him. It was like Mike’s natural skin tone, only it was somehow lighter without being too white. 

It made no sense. Much like the eyes rolled back into his head, pupils replaced by white and grey. Painting-Will’s mouth was also a little open. Agape in a way that looked dead.

That was a good way to put it, actually.

All in all, painting-Will looked dead.

And real Will was terrified by it.

Where did this come from? What the hell is this?

His own questions couldn’t be answered. So he left his artwork and went to bed.

Just as he laid down, though, he heard a soft knock on his door.

He sighed heavily. Why wouldn’t they just leave him alone?

”Will, honey, are you still awake?”

Oh. It’s mom.

For some reason, Will found himself answering, even though he hadn’t answered to her previous attempts.

”Yeah.”

There was silence for a moment, but Will was sure he could hear his mom’s relieved breath. 

“Can I come in?”

”No.”

Joyce quieted again for a moment, before replying with a muffled, “Okay. That’s okay. Um, I just wanted to let you know that tomorrow Murray and I are heading to Atlanta for a business trip.”

Will’s eyebrows creased. Business trip? Joyce hated those, she never went on any. That wasn’t like her.

He didn’t say anything despite the confusion in his head.

Joyce took this as a sign to continue.

”But if you need me too, I’ll be happy to stay home. Maybe we can talk about what happened and plan a revenge act against that girl.”

At the thought, Will smiled softly. He knew his mom would find the most mischievous way to get Gabriella back. But as numerous as the idea was, he didn’t want to do that. He would feel to guilty to.

”No, uh…i-it’s okay. You can go.”

”Are you sure?”

Even though she couldn’t see it, Will nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be okay.”

”Okay, I…I trust you. I should be back in a couple days, maybe with a big surprise that I think you and El will like. I love you, honey.”

”I love you, too.”

He had to bite his lip to keep from letting her hear him cry. He waited until he heard her walk away and close her bedroom door to finally let out a choked gasp.

She didn’t even say happy birthday.

{}{}{}{}

Will was running. It seemed to be something he was even better at than art.

He pushed past trees and bushes and logs, all of which were turning crispy black and dark. The blue sky above was filling up with clouds that seemed to chase him, their darkness not inches behind him. 

He heard the vines slithering and hissing toward him. He urged his out-of-breath self to go faster.

He had to get away, or else it would get him again!

In the distance, he recognized the echoed chimes of a clock. The noise thundered through the trees and disrupted the bats that resided there.

Some hit his face, and he screamed as he tripped and hit the ground with a pained smack.

The clock chimes didn’t stop, even when he looked up to see his surroundings he completely changed. They just kept ringing, and ringing, and ringing, and-

Suddenly, he was thrown into a wall.

How’d he get into his bedroom?

”What the hell is wrong with you, boy? I thought me and your mother were raising a man, not a fucking queer!”

Oh, no. No, no, no. How was he here? How was he-

Will’s shirt collar was grabbed and he was slammed against the wall next to her bedroom door. The next thing he knew, his father’s cold, wicked face was inches away from his fearful one.

”I should’ve just taken you from her when I had the goddamn chance! Maybe then would you be bigger and stronger, and not some pathetic little girl who paints pictures and draws like a two-year old.”

”D-Dad…stop, please.” Will hated calling the man that, when he knew that was far from what Lonnie was. But he was too scared in that moment to really care so long as he escaped from his rage.

”What’s that, Willy?”

He flinched at the name:

”Huh? What did you just say?”

Will cried and clawed at Lonnie’s wrist. “P-Please, just let me go! L-Let me go!”

The back of the man’s hand met his cheek, and Will’s head snapped to the side.

”Men don’t beg you worthless fag! I thought I taught you better than that!”

”Dad, I’m sorry! I-I won’t do it again! I won’t! I won’t!”

One second, it was Lonnie holding Will up against his wall. In a sudden flash, though, it was suddenly El standing in front of him with her hand raised, using her powers to force his body back. Her nose bled, and her eyes were staring him down with such rage, that it almost rivaled what Will had just seen meer moments ago.

”You ruined everything,” his sister said. “I was happy with Mike, and then you came back and ruined it!”

”E-El? What are you doing?”

El’s eyes only narrowed further.

”I shouldn’t have saved you. You are so ungrateful for it, you don’t even try to save ME from Angela! You never return the favor. I should’ve just let you rot in the Upside Down, it’s where you belong.”

Will couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. She…She couldn’t be telling the truth, could she? This wasn’t like El at all. She would never say these things!

”E-El, why are you saying this?”

He felt the invisible force on his body release, suddenly, and he fell to the ground in his knees.

”Because it’s the truth. And you know it.”

Her voice morphed, and as before, the person in front of Will changed abruptly.

It was no longer El talking. 

“We didn’t even care enough for you to remember your birthday, Will, so why are you still here?”

Will stared up in horror.

”M-Mom?”

Joyce approached him and crouched down so they were eye to eye. Instinctively, Will leaned into his mom’s hand as it stroked his cheek. It wasn’t warm like it usually was, though.

He likes it cold.

”Lonnie was right all along; you’re a mistake. You aren’t my son.”

Then she stood and backed away, leaving Will sitting in confusion.

”M-Mom? Mom, no! Please, no!”

Then there was nothing, nobody. Only smoke and darkness crowded Will’s senses. And he stared down as he finally accepted that he was alone, as it was always meant to be. Fate wanted him alone and dead, yet somehow he’d escaped it.

Maybe he should just let it take him and accept the inevitable.

Right?

”William Byers.”

Will hadn’t even noticed that the clock had stopped ringing until it once again started up again. And with it, a deep, monstrous voice spoke to him.

But there was nobody around him.

The voice was just…speaking through the fog with anonymous evil.

”Oh, how long I’ve been waiting for your return. I’ve missed your presence in my realm, dearly.”

Will’s body was shaking. Despite knowing the voice wouldn’t show it’s source, he still tried to look around for it anyway as he got back to his feet.

”You are the one and only who will be able to establish my true plans. You will free the world of its abominations and failed construction.”

Will stumbled back. Forward. Back. Left. Right. Back again.

”You and I will accomplish such great things. We, together, will reinvent the world as it should be.”

”No,” Will gasped. “I don’t know who you are, but I’ll never help you.”

The voice hummed.

”Hm, it appears you are yet to understand how alike we are, Will. But soon, I will show you that we are the only ones who can ever know true, unbridled pain and agony. Only we can save the world from what is to be its destruction.”

”No, no…I-I don’t believe you.”

”Oh, but you will. I will be waiting for your return, and maybe then, I can get you to understand.”

The clock chimes grew louder.

Will screamed and plugged his ears.

He then felt a hand grab onto his and pull him back. When his hands fell away from the sides of his head, the clock chiming was fainter, yet still there and still taunting him. 

Gabbi kept pulling him until they reached a Queen-sized bed in the middle of all the fog and darkness. Will tried to pull away, already knowing where this was going, but ultimately, the girl’s grip was much stronger and kept him in place.

”Don’t worry, Will,” she smirked at him. “I’ll make it good for both of us.”

Will was suddenly thrown onto the bed, and everything disappeared.

{}{}{}{}

Will woke up with a startled gasp.

He was covered in sweat, tears, and all in all already feeling quite shitty for the morning that was barely starting.

However, there was once thought — or fear, really — that was sticking to his mind as he tried to force himself out of bed.

Something is coming. Something big is coming for them all.