Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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The lunchroom was a cacophony of laughter and chit-chat as friends complained about how their school day was going so far.

Unlike The Party, who were leaning over their lunch trays and whispering a new plan about how to defeat Vecna and the Upside Down.

It was pointless, Will thought, but he didn't say it out loud because everyone was so sure of whatever plan they came up with, and Will wasn't usually the one to burst people's bubbles.

Their quiet conversation was interrupted by Chance, a basketball player, who slid into the small space between Will and Mike. Both boys flinched back as his muscular body shoved them apart.

"Uhh-" Dustin squints at the slightly older male.

"Relax, Henderson," Chance grimaces, "No one's fuckin' with your loser ass today."

The friends are takenaback by his unnecessary attitude, and become even more shocked as Chance leans in to whisper something in Will's ear.

Will's shock is immediately replaced by a different look, unreadable to his friends. He gulps and slightly nods, turning his head away from Chance the best he can.

Chance pulls back, a slight smirk on his face. He shoots the other three a quick nod before sliding out of the chair and speed-walking away.

"The hell was that?" Mike grimaces, staring at Will.

Lucas' eyes are wide with confusion, Dustin's concerned, and Mike's shocked.

"Nothing," Will stutters, looking down at his full tray.

"Dude, what did he say?" Lucas leans closer.

"Some weird basketball shit," Will mutters, "I don't even know what he was saying."

"What makes him think you'd be into basketball?" Dustin asks.

Will shoots him a look Dustin takes as offense, and he splutters out a bunch of apologies in one breath.

"No, it's fine," Will grumbles, "whatever..."

Will stays silent as the other three start to continue their conversation again. A chill shoots down Will's spine and his neck tingles, but he knows it wasn't from his friends' suspicious looks.

___________

Will is standing at his locker when a hand slams onto the one beside him, and he gasps.

Jumping back a few steps, Will notices it's Chance. He's smirking with his hand against the locker door.

"Knock that stupid smirk off of your face," Will glares.

Chance immediately stops smirking. This has been a common occurrence between the two of them recently.

"Jeez, relax," Chance scoffs, shifting to press his back against the locker.

"No." Will shakes his head, "What the hell have I told you about coming up to me when I'm with my friends?"

"Jesus, they probably don't even know we know each other."

"They don't. That's why I've told you before to not talk to me when I am with them," Will sasses.

"It's not that serious. They probably think I was bullying you." Chance shrugs.

"Are you seriously proud of that?" Will furrows his eyebrows.

"They think I bully a lot of people."

"Probably because you bully them," Will shoots back immediately.

"Damn, relax." Chance puts his hands up in defense, "I'm sorry," He pouts dramatically.

Will can't fight back the small smile that tugs on his lips, and Chance smiles noticing Will isn't truly mad at him.

"Did you bring the stuff?" Will whispers.

Chance immediately glances around, his eyes scanning the hallway to make sure no one is looking. Despite how weird it is for someone like Will and jock to be speaking, no one is paying them any mind.

Chance places a Ziploc bag into Will's locker, and Will shoots him a look of thanks. Chance gives him a wink back and scurries off down the hall.

As Chance walks out of Will's line of vision, Will suddenly feels a pang in his chest. His body grows cold even though he has on two layers of shirts. His hand trembling hand leaves his locker door, and it finds its place on the back of his neck like always.

Goosebumps.

Of course.

Will gulps as a wave of nausea suddenly takes over, and his stomach drops.

'Don't do it, Will'

A familiar voice, not his own, whispers in his mind.

'Don't block me out'

'Don't push me away, Will'

Tears burn his drowsy, green eyes, and he blinks them away just in time for Mike and Lucas' voices to interrupt the one in his head.

"Will, are you alright?" Lucas softly asks.

Will flinches as he feels a hand on his lower back, but relaxes when he realizes it's just Lucas. Mike is standing behind Lucas, and is equally concerned.

"Yeah, fine." Will mutters, snatching he Ziploc bag and shoving it into his backpack before the two can question it.

"The bell rang, come on..." Mike whispers, taking his arm and gently leading him to the doors.

Lucas shuts his locker for him, and Will cringes at the suspicious look Lucas gives the inside of it.

_________

Mike and Lucas biked home with him. It felt stupid, but The Party were supposed to be keeping a close eye on Will.

Will hated it because he wasn't a fucking baby, but whatever. It was what his Mom wanted, and Will wouldn't ever do something she didn't want him to do.

Okay, that's a lie.

He's doing something she wouldn't want him to do right now.

Mike and Lucas watched Will let himself into the house before they rode off. No one was home, which Will found odd, so he went right to his bedroom.

Usually someone was home when school ended because Will wasn't allowed alone at the moment. With the Upside Down bleeding into Hawkins, and Vecna being literally anywhere right now, Will was an easy target.

Will was silently thanking God when he entered his bedroom, though. He finally had time to himself and didn't have to sneak around in his room today.

At least just for a little while.

He dropped to his knees in front of his nightstand, tossing his backpack off his shoulder and in front of him before rummaging through it for the bag.

He opened his bottom drawer and grabbed out a small brown jewelry box.

Or, what was meant to be a jewelry box.

It's not what Will has been using it for.

In fact, Will didn't even own jewelry.

No, instead, Will was using it for his weed and cigarettes.

Two totally different things before anybody tries to say something. One gets him high, one calms his nerves. That's how he knows they're different.

He's been getting these things from Chance, who is rich enough to be fine with Will giving him a dollar or two in exchange for a pack or baggie.

Will hasn't told anyone about this, and he made Chance swear on day one they would never talk outside of their secret exchanges.

Will debated between which one he wanted, but when the goosebumps slowly slithered up his neck and he heard the monster whispering out to him, he fumbled and grabbed the first thing his fingers touched.

A pre-rolled joint. Great.

Will leaned out the window and smoked for a while. He took as many puffs he needed until his head felt fuzzy and his throat became dry.

He stumbled backward as he heard a car pull into the driveway, putting the joint out on the window sill and wrapping what was left of it in two squares of toilet paper before throwing it in the trash.

He blew any residue outside and shut the window, hopping into the shower and brushing his teeth, hoping the smell wouldn't attract any attention.

He's been doing this since he first started smoking in the hopes his family wouldn't catch the smell on him. Whether it was weed or normal cigarettes, he couldn't let them catch him.

He changed into sweatpants and a tank top. It's an unusual outfit for him, but he wasn't in the mood for any flannels or jeans after a shower.

He walked downstairs, both hands on the railing and taking one step at a time. He walked into the kitchen and held his breath as he walked passed Hopper, who was reading a newspaper at the kitchen island.

"There it is again," Hopper groans, looking up.

Will's standing at the open fridge, hand wrapped around a water bottle. He freezes. He hears the newspaper rustle, and he silently prays Hopper is just tired of seeing the same story in the paper.

He slowly turns around, the fridge slamming shut behind him. His movements are slow as he opens the water bottle and takes a few sips.

"Will, come here," Hopper waves him over.

It takes Will's brain a few seconds to process the order, but he slowly places the water bottle on the island before walking over to Hopper.

Will feels his heart drop as Hopper leans in to sniff his shoulder, a frown on his face. He scoffs under his breath and shakes his head as he slams the newspaper on the table.

"Follow me," He grumbles, getting up.

Will turns around by the time Hopper is already down the hall. He keeps his movements thought-out and careful as he heads to the living room.

"Walk in a straight line here," Hopper instructs, motioning between the couch and coffee table.

"Wh-What?" Will stutters.

"You heard me."

Hopper crosses his arms and leans against the wall. Will does as he says, arms out to his sides. He wobbles like he's on a tightrope, his knees trembling ever so slightly.

Hopper nods in disappointment and tells him to balance on his right foot and touch his nose. Will forgets his left from rights for a moment, and his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

As Will fails to last a second on his left foot, the front door opens.

"Wait, let me try again," He whispers, failing immediately once again.

"What's going on?" Joyce asks, grocery bags in her arms.

El is just as confused as she kicks the door shut, her arms also full of grocery store bags.

"Wait, Mom-" Will gasps, his third attempt ruined by the distraction.

Will stumbles and falls face first to the floor, groaning at the pain in his chest from the harsh contact.

"Jim, what's going on?" Joyce repeats, a little louder and urgent.

"Remember how we kept smelling weed, and we weren't sure where it came from?" Hopper asks.

Joyce nods, her face immediately falling as she puts the dots together. Her eyes avert down to Will who is struggling to pull himself off the floor, his arms shaking.

"Will..." Joyce whispers, internally begging it isn't true.

"I... I don't even know what he's talking about," Will says, still unable to get up.

He gasps loudly as Hopper grabs his arm, pulls him to his feet, and drags him to the front door. He's unable to form any sentences as his brain feels like it's stuck in a permanent jet lag.

"Wait-" Joyce gasps, following behind them.

Hopper shoves Will in the passenger seat of his police car and rushes around to the driver's side. As he opens the door, Joyce calls out.

"Hopper, where are you going?" She yells, her feet glued to the porch.

He freezes. Joyce hasn't called him by his last name in over a year. After they got together they were mutually on a first-name bases. He feels his heart sink as he sucks in a breath.

"Don't worry," He calls back shakily, getting the car.

Hopper pulls out of the driveway, and makes his way down the road. Will has no idea where they're going, but he keeps his eyes to the window, and his leg bounces with anxiety.

Hopper breaks the heavy silence, "I need answers, and if you have any questions I'd like you to ask them." Hopper keeps driving.

Will doesn't say a word, but just as Hopper gets ready to ask a question, Will speaks up. His voice is so quiet Hopper can barely hear him.

"Am I in trouble?" He asks.

"Yes," Hopper tells him, "But not legally."

"So where are we going?" Will asks, "I thought you were-"

"I'm not taking you to the Police Station."

Will visibly relaxes, but Hopper realizes he's letting his walls down, and some part of him tells him he isn't doing a good job as Chief, so he decides to scare Will a bit.

"But..." He continues, "If you don't tell me the truth, I will."

Will is hesitant, but he slowly nods, tearing his eyes away from the window. He shoots Hopper a glance, but quickly looks down at his feet instead.

Hopper's mind is racing with a bunch of questions, and his hands grip tightly on the steering wheel the more he thinks of. He hates even being in this position right now. Especially with Will.

"How long?" Hopper whispers, his eyes leaving the road to look at Will for a split second.

"I... I don't know..." Will picks at his nails.

"It's September third," Hopper says, hoping that helps.

"Like... The fourth day of school," Will mutters, shrugging.

Almost a month.

"For fucks sake..." Hopper breathes out, "Why?"

Will flinches at Hopper's sudden aggression, sinking back into his seat. He shrugs again.

"No one smokes weed for no reason, Will." Hopper scoffs, "Why?" He asks again.

"Because..." Will stutters, his eyes stinging with tears, "Because I was sick and tired of feeling anxious all the time... The Upside Down is invading Hawkins, and I was done with my stomach sinking every time I stepped outside."

Hopper stays silent as Will rants, taking in all of the teenagers words.

"I hate being able to hear all of Vecna's thoughts, and I'm done with being able to feel how he feels. He's injured, Hopper, and I'm tired of feeling all of this pain that isn't actually there.

"I just... I wanted to stop feeling it all, and I didn't know what else would get my mind off of it. I like not being able to hear him, or being so care-free I almost miss the goosebumps on my neck... I... I like feeling normal."

A heavy silence looms over the two in the car, and Hopper almost feels himself tear up over Will's words. He stops at a red light and fully turns his attention to Will.

"What made you think weed was the best answer?" He asks.

"It's not-" Will stops himself, but remembers Hopper's threat from earlier, "It's not just weed."

"What else is there? Don't tell me you're doing hard drugs." Hopper snaps.

"No!" Will loudly defends, "It's just cigarettes."

"You say that like smoking cigarettes is a good thing," Hopper says through his teeth, the light turning green.

Will feels nauseous as the car starts moving again. He presses a hand onto his forehead, and groans softly as his weed affected brain tries to come up with a better worded response.

"It's not," Will shakes his head, "But when has anything in my life been "good" recently?" Will scoffs.

Hopper chooses to ignore that comment as he turns the car into their neighborhood.

"Who?" He asks.

"What?" Will's eyebrows furrow.

"Who gave it to you?" Hopper asks.

Will doesn't speak.

"Who's been giving it to you?" Hopper presses.

"I... I don't know..." Will mumbles.

"You don't know?" Hopper side eyes, "this kids been giving you weed and cigarettes for almost a month, and you never got his name?"

Will doesn't know why he's protecting Chance. Chance is nice to him, and gives him weed, but he's a dick to his friends. Will's unsure as to why he doesn't want Chance in trouble.

Maybe it's the thought of never getting weed ever again, but Will also knows that Chance hasn't wronged him ever, so it's stupid he should be (possibly) getting arrested.

"He's on the basketball team," Will settles with.

"A fucking jock?" Hopper almost laughs, "Really, Will?"

Will bites his lip to stop himself from defending Chance and accidentally slipping up his name to Hopper.

"Which one?" Hopper asks.

Will just crosses his arms, and stares out the window again.

"Don't fucking tell me it's Lucas-" Hopper starts.

"It's not," Will immediately interrupts, "It's not Lucas."

"So who is it?"

Will feels his throat go dry, and the small conscious part of his brain curses at him and begs him not to reveal who it is. The non-sober part of his brain tosses Chance's name around like a game of volleyball, and Will feels his chest tighten with conflict and uncertainty.

"Will?"

"I... I don't know..." He repeats.

"Will, if I have to go into that school myself and interview every basketball player, I swear to God-"

"You're supposed to be my Dad," Will suddenly interrupts, "Why do you have to handle shit like a cop?"

"It's my duty to obey and respect the laws," Hopper smacks the steering wheel with his right palm in frustration, "And when one of my kids don't, where do you think that puts me?"

Will stays silent. Hopper's right. He's been breaking the law for almost a month while living in the same house as the Chief of Police. God, he's so fucking stupid.

"I am your Dad, Will," Hopper tells him softly, "But I'm also a cop, and when you do something stupid like this, it's my job to put you in your place and correct you. My kid or not, you're doing the wrong thing."

Will doesn't speak, so Hopper keeps talking.

"I promise you, if you tell me the name of this kid, you won't be in trouble, but if you don't tell me, and I hate to do this..." Hopper hesitates his next words, "I'll take you down to the police station and I'll have them place you in a holding cell until you're ready to talk."

"You won't do that," Will whispers, a tear rolling down his cheek.

"I will if you don't tell me," Hopper says.

"His name is Chance..." Will says, immediately facepalming.

Welp, there goes his weed and cigarettes.

Hopper stays silent until they pull into the driveway, and once he turns the car off, he turns his body to face Will.

"You're in a lot of trouble," Hopper crosses his arms, "look at me."

Will looks away from the window and at Hopper, and quickly wipes his tears away.

"You're in a lot of trouble," Hopper repeats, "and just because I'm your Dad doesn't mean you're getting away with this."

"You just said-" Will glares.

"And I lied," Hopper nonchalantly shrugs, "You and Chance are going to the police station first thing tomorrow morning, and we're sorting this out. Until then, I'm taking the weed and cigarettes, talking with your mother, and she'll decide what she wants to do."

"I don't want my Mom to deal with this," Will frowns, "It's already bad enough she knows."

"Will, you can't just illegally smoke marijuana and expect not to get your mother involved, or in trouble." Hopper sighs, "It's up to her thoughts on this, but that doesn't mean you won't get any jail time."

"Jail time? Are you serious?" Will yells, his eyes widening, "For a little bit of weed?"

"A little bit?" Hopper spits, "It's been almost a month, you've probably smoked enough weed for the whole goddamn economy!"

Will grinds his teeth together, a habit he picked up when he was possessed by the Shadow Monster. Hopper just sighs at him and shakes his head.

"I'm disappointed in you, and I bet your mother is, too." Hopper tells him, "But I want you to know that this isn't going to be a grudge I hold against you for a lifetime."

"You're not going to be suspicious all the time? Or do daily room checks?" Will sasses.

"No. No I'm not." Hopper shakes his head and chuckles weakly, "Now, when we go in you're going to sit on the couch and wait until I've checked your entire room."

"It's only in one spot," Will says.

Hopper stays silent for a moment, staring into Will's bloodshot eyes.

"Yeah, I changed my mind. I'm going to be suspicious of you always." He nods.

Will feels his heart sink with guilt and genuine sadness. He gets out of the car and heads inside the house with Hopper following behind him.

"Where were you?" Joyce rushes up to Will, pulling him in a tight hug.

"We just went for a drive to talk," Hopper tells her.

Joyce furrows her eyebrows at Hopper and he mouths his plan to her before heading up to Will's room. Will sinks into the couch, letting his mom pull him back into a bone-crushing hug.

His mind has stopped racing and he's less anxious just being in his mother's arms.

Weed isn't worth it, he's decided.

Chapter Text

______________

Melvald's was a general store that sat in the middle of town in Hawkins, Indiana. The store was typically run by Joyce who took tons of extra shifts to raise money.

After moving to California for almost a year, Joyce moved back to Hawkins with her kids where she took her Melvald's job back. Over some time, her boss gave her the position of manager which caused her to spend a bunch of time in the store.

Typically she'd have a bunch of workers in the store, but everyone was so busy repairing their homes or having moved away when Hawkins split. She hated having to ask, but since summer was coming up around the corner, it was necessary the highschool classes needed some extra credit in order to graduate.

Joyce wasn't surprised when her son, Will, offered to take up a few hours at the store. The police charged him with community service. He took her old position at the front checkout counter. She watches over him occasionally and can't help but see a little bit of herself in him. The way he leans over the counter and shyly waves at new costumers, the way he'll keep himself busy chewing gum, or doodling on a sticky note.

Getting to spend more time with her son is amazing with an additional positive of Will getting money he can use for himself. He's quiet and reserved, but he has an aura of genuine kindness and he's helpful. It's good for the business, and Will's social skills. Being around the same group of friends for years and keeping to himself otherwise hasn't been very good.

This all brings us to the current day, where Joyce is in the storage room with a calculator trying to decide the prices of things. Will was in the front, hyper focused on the small details of a dog he was currently carelessly sketching on a yellow sticky note.

His left hand held a pencil and moved lazily over the small paper, his right hand resting his jaw as he leaned against the counter. There was only two costumers so far today, so he wasn't worried about being called out or lazy.

The bell rang as the doors were pushed open, and Will glances up only to immediately look back down to avoid making any eye contact. Of course, he had to show up.

"There you are," The voice chuckles.

Will hesitates, but then slowly looks up to meet the eyes of his previous dealer. His black hair is disheveled and his basketball jacket is hanging loosely on his shoulders.

"We're you born with that jacket superglued to your body or what?" Will asks, blowing a bubble with his gum.

"Jeez, you spend a few hours in a Police Station and all of a sudden you're a dick," Chance snorts.

"You realize you're-" Will pauses and glances to see if his mom is around. She's not. He turns back to Chance and quiets his voice, "You're legally not allowed to be here. Near me."

"I don't think it's going to kill you, is it?" Chance asks, and he steps closer to the counter to prove a point, "Are you dying?"

"You have no idea," Will whispers through his teeth.

"What was that?" Chance whispers, placing his hands on the counter and leaning closer.

"What do you want, Chance?" Will whispers, his voice unable to get louder with the taller boy being so close to him.

"What? I can't come to a store now?" Chance scoffs, backing away, "I need a few new school supplies, alright? I was at practice yesterday and someone tripped over my bag and broke some of my pencils and crumbled my notebook. Care to help?"

"This is a small store, it's right there," Will points to an aisle beside the checkout counter he was sitting at.

"Wow, great employee," Chance sasses, nodding dramatically, "I can see why you're spending more time here than the community service called for," He smirks.

Will stands up abruptly and storms off to the aisle, Chance immediately following behind him without being told.

"I have a feeling you're avoiding me," Chance sighs, leaning against a shelf and crossing his arms.

"Avoiding you?" Will asks, not looking at him as he reaches for a notebook,"What makes you say that?"

Chance scoffs while watching Will speed walk away from him to grab the items he needs. He grinds his teeth slightly as he watches Will avoid looking in his direction.

"Why do you think?" Chance snaps, narrowing his eyes.

Will spins around and walks past Chance with his hands full. Chance follows him to the checkout counter again, letting out an annoyed huff.

"You're seriously avoiding me and then wondering why I say you're avoiding me?" Chance glares.

Will quickly scans the items for him before shoving them into a plastic bag. He glances at Chance a few times before quickly looking away again.

"You can't even look at me," Chance leans closer, his hands firmly pressing on the counter.

Will tries to keep his cool, but Chance keeps pressing on and trying to speak to him, so Will slams the bag down in annoyance.

"That's $20," Will says through his teeth. His voice is almost like a growl, and Chance looks taken aback.

As Chance fumbles for his wallet, Will's eyes followed his hands before meeting his eyes.

"I know you probably don't care about the police and the law, or whatever... But I do," Will tells him, "And I'll be damned if I let you follow me around and risk getting me in trouble."

"Getting you in trouble?" Chance raises his voice, "You ratted me out to the fucking cops!"

"Yeah because I had no choice," Will hissed, "You get in trouble and have to do some community service, big deal, Chance..." Will scoffs, "You're not the one living under the same roof as the Chief. You don't understand the looks and the judgement."

"So, what?" Chance scoffs, shrugging, "You rat me out and get freedom, too. What's your problem?"

"My problem is that you chose to commit a crime, and that's not my fault."

"It isn't?" Chance glares, "So you didn't come to me for drugs? Is that not what the hell happened?"

"It is," Will whispered, "And I'm currently paying for it. Just like you did."

"So that makes us even?"

Chance's voice is low, and he's almost growling at Will. Will is nervous, but quickly regains his nonchalant expression.

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to," Chance whispers, slamming the $20 on the counter and snatching the bag from Will.

Will watches him exit, and his shoulders slump as Chance leaves. The storage door opens and Will watches his mother walk up to him.

"I heard angry voices," Joyce crosses her arms.

"No, nobody is angry," Will shakes his head, "Just a pretty annoying person."

He hopes his fake smile is enough to convince her, and luckily it works. She gives him one back before heading to the storage room for new items.

____________

The lunch bell rings, but Will doesn't bother leaving his locker. As the hallways clear heavy footed steps get closer, and he knows who it is almost immediately.

"You're absolutely insane," The voice growls.

Will can't fight back his smirk as he turns his head and shrugs.

"And? What about it?" He whispers.

"You gonna rat me out again, or what?"

"No reason to," Will shrugs, "Just be cool."

Will looks around the hallway before heading to the bathroom slowly, and after a little while he hears the door open.

"Jesus, hurry up. We're gonna get caught." Will hisses, waving him urgently.

The bathroom is empty, thank God. Will leans back against the wall.

"Chance, don't waste my time," Will rolls his eyes playfully.

Chance can't fight back a laugh as he tosses Will a lighter and digs into his pocket for a familiar small bag. He leans against the wall beside Will and carefully placed the cigarette between his teeth.

Will chuckles softly as he uses the lighter Chance gave him to light the cigarette. The two boys stay silent as Chance takes a long drag before giving it to Will, who does the same.

"Your dad better not find out about this," Chance mumbles.

"He won't. Relax." Will takes another drag before handing it to Chance.

The two stay like that for a half hour until the bell rings for lunch to end. Chance quickly puts out the cigarette and wraps it in toilet paper before throwing it out.

"I remember that all too well," Will smirks.

"Okay, it was like a week ago. You can chill, old man." Chance playfully elbows him.

"One of us is graduating two years before the other, and it is not me," Will chuckles, speed walking out of the bathroom.

Chance tries to reach out for his arm and playfully drag him back, but Will shrieks quietly and runs to his locker where Mike, Lucas, and Dustin are waiting for him.

Chance slams the bathroom door shut before the three see him, and he hopes they don't notice he was there with Will.

"Jesus, where the hell were you?" Mike asks.

Will opens his locker and grabs a few books.

"In the bathroom," Will says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"For half an hour?" Mike's eyebrows furrow.

"Yeah, so? I don't question you about the fact you have a strict after school schedule." Will says, walking down the hall.

"You do?" Lucas asks, not knowing this.

"It's important to stay organized," Mike rolls his eyes, following after Will.

"What?" Dustin whispers, sharing a look with Lucas.

The two smirk before following after Mike and Will. The bell rings just as they get to class, and the teacher scolds them for almost being late.

____________

Will enters his house, his backpack falling off of his shoulder. He's clearly exhausted from today. He kicks the door closed and tosses his bag on the couch.

He heads to the kitchen to grab a water bottle, and Hopper immediately slams his newspaper on the island. Will flinches and spins around to look at him in shock.

"Something wrong?" Will asks.

"Will, I want you to remember that I've been smoking since I was in highschool," Hopper tells him, "You do realize when you come in here smelling like the cheapest type of cigarettes known-to-man I can tell?"

"Trust me, I don't want any more hours of community service," Will sasses nonchalantly, "I already feel like I'm in the deepest pits of hell now as it is."

"I thought you liked working at Melvald's?" Joyce turns the corner into the kitchen, drying her hair with a towel.

Will just takes sips of his water to avoid answering her.

"You can't possibly be breaking the law already," Hopper rubs his temples, "It's only been a week."

"Breaking the law?" Joyce asks, "What the hell?"

"Okay, if I were to be smoking again, why does that immediately mean I'd get in trouble? You just said you've been smoking since you were in highschool," Will glares.

"And I'll admit that it's fucking stupid, and I don't wish a smoking addiction on anybody. Not even my worst enemy." Hopper scoffs.

"I never took you for the type to not wish bad on his enemies," Joyce chuckles.

Will can't help but laugh at the shocked look on Hopper's face, and finishes his water bottle before heading out of the kitchen.

"I'm fine. Don't worry." He turns around at the frame, "I'd wish it on my own enemies, though. I think I should try to be more like you."

Hopper smiles sadly at him, and watches him go upstairs.

___________

Okay, Will admits it. He's been trying to quit since he talked to Hopper about it, but every time he tells himself that, Chance shows up at his locker the next day with a lighter and a bag in his pocket.

Will doesn't find it fair, but when he tried to tell this to Chance, he laughed in his face and teased him for being a baby about the situation.

If there's one thing Will Byers has been trying to prove, it's that he's not a baby.

And somehow, that was enough to convince him to keep going. He'd skip lunch everyday to hide in the bathroom with Chance, and if someone were to enter, Chance would take it and act like Will wasn't smoking with him.

Will couldn't risk getting in trouble again. Not with the law, his dad, his mother, anybody or anything. But God, when he tried to back out and go to the cafeteria, Chance would pout and Will couldn't say no to the little sparkle in his eye that seemed to captivate him immediately.

He felt like such a loser, and his shoulders would slump in defeat, but as soon as he had the cigarette between his teeth, that wouldn't matter anymore. It would just be him and Chance, in the quiet, passing a cigarette between them as if they didn't secretly dislike each other.

Will hated how quickly he gave in to Chance, but he couldn't stop noticing the way Chance was the same with him. He should've noticed sooner, the way Chance was so quick to become his dealer, the way he listened to Will's cigarette preferences, and the way he didn't charge him an ungodly amount like some kids at this school.

At the time, Will didn't realize something was up.

But fuck, he should've.

Maybe then he wouldn't be where he is now.

Chapter Text

'Your time is almost up, William...'

'You can't run forever'

'You can't run from me'

'I'll find you'

____________

Will jolted awake with a gasp, sweat causing his clothes to stick to his body. Out of instinct, he subconsciously reached for the bottom drawer of his nightstand.

A wave of disappointment crashes over him as he remembers Hopper took it all a couple weeks ago. He checks his alarm and he has to be up for school in three hours. Great.

He slips out of his covers and sneaks downstairs to grab a water bottle from the fridge. He sips it quickly so he can go back to sleep sooner. Unfortunately, his hand becomes covered in blood.

The crimson liquid is black in the darkness of the kitchen, and it startles Will's sleepy brain. Thinking something is wrong with him, Will gasps and jumps back, dropping his water bottle on the floor.

He isn't sure why, but his eyes start to burn with tears as the plastic crinkles against the off-white tiles. A voice rings in the back of his head. Not his own. Not Vecna's. It's different, but familiar.

'Fucking stupid'

'What the hell is wrong with you?'

'Clumsy moron'

Will gulps and fumbles for the paper towels. The voice spits out more insults as he tries his hardest to wipe the water in the dark with teary vision. That's when the light flicks on and he winces as his eyes burn more.

"What the hell?" A voice grumbles.

Will can't get to his feet. He stays on his knees and hangs his head in shame, the water soaking his fingers through the paper towels.

"What are you doing up this late?" Heavy footsteps patter closer.

Will glances off to the side to see Hopper's slippers in his peripheral vision. The last person he wanted to see right now.

For some reason, Will's mind races with the possibility of Hopper screaming at him, and it makes him all the more anxious.

"I... I um," Will gulps, "I couldn't sleep," His voice cracks.

"What did you do?" Hopper asks.

Will doesn't speak, and he hears Hopper make a noise faintly. It was a mix between a grunt and a gasp.

"Will, are you bleeding?" Hopper sounds more awake, now.

"No... Yeah," Will nods, "I... I'll clean it up, I promise... I didn't mean to spill the water, I just-"

Will stumbles over his words as he spews out a bunch of apologies for spilling the water and getting his blood on the floor. He scrubs the floor harder as if it's going to actually make a difference.

It doesn't, but Will doesn't care. He doesn't want to get yelled at, so he has to prove he's trying to make up for making a mess.

"Christ, get up off the floor." Hopper tugs on his pajama shirt.

Will hesitates for a moment, but he does anyway. Once he's on his feet (he's unsteady, but at least he's standing) Hopper hands him a few tissues before cleaning up the soaked paper towels off the floor.

Will watches, guilt and anxiety swimming in his stomach. He can do it himself.

"I-I'm sorry-" Will tries.

"I know, kid." Hopper tells him, adding more paper towels on top of the left over water spill.

"I swear I was trying to be quiet, I didn't want to wake anybody up-"

"You didn't. I was reading on the couch," Hopper tells him, "I thought you might've passed out or something in here. I was worried."

Worried?

"You mean... You weren't mad?" Will quickly rephrases, "You're not mad?"

"No, why would I be?" Hopper asks, "you're tired, it's dark, you started bleeding... I probably would've done the same thing."

Will watches in astonishment as Hopper finishes cleaning up the floor for him. He throws the last bit of soaked paper towels in the trash before turning back to Will.

Will winces when he steps closer, and subconsciously takes a step back.

"I wanna check your nose," Hopper reassures him.

Will is skeptical, but slowly lowers his hand so Hopper can check it. He tilts his head back and side to side.

"You're not bleeding anymore," Hopper says.

Will tosses out the tissues, and walks to the sink to wash his bloody hands. Nosebleeds are something he's gotten used to recently.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" Hopper abruptly asks.

"I don't know... Maybe the streetlight outside," Will lies.

He's been having nightmares for months now which are always followed up by nosebleeds and headaches. He hasn't told anyone after learning about what happened to Max. Plus, every time he tries to sleep, he can't, and when he can't all he wants is to smoke.

He doesn't want to worry anyone, especially his Mom. Besides, he just got busted for smoking fourteen days ago. The last thing he wants is to worry people with dying and/or being bothered by Vecna.

It's stupid, really... You think he'd be able to tell his family, but as Hopper stands in front of him in his slippers and crumpled uniform with his eyes narrowed worriedly at Will, the teen feels anxious and too scared to speak.

He feels his stomach drop, and the burning of vomit quickly makes its way up his esophagus. He gulps a few times and leans against the sink to take deep breaths.

"You know what this is?" Hopper says, grabbing him a new water bottle, "withdrawal."

Will can only let out a gurgle that was meant to be a groan in response. His knuckles turn white against the ledge of the sink, and he makes the noise again, this time pained.

Hopper gives him the water bottle and sends him to bed, but before Will goes, he turns back around at the doorframe.

"Hey..." He whispers softly.

Hopper quickly turns to look at him, and Will musters up the best smile he can.

"Thank you," He gulps.

Hopper smiles and nods. Will heads upstairs to try and go back to sleep, but his head begins to pound, and he ends up tossing and turning.

__________

The next day at school, Will suffered greatly. His head wouldn't stop pounding and only made his nausea worse. It didn't help that the halls were loud and people's voices were louder than usual.

Will kept his headphones on, The Cure playing softly throughout the school day. Oddly enough, it comforted Will. He liked the way his peers' voices drowned out like he was underwater. He liked not being able to hear them that well.

Even at lunch, as Chance shot him looks from across the cafeteria and The Party discussed plans, Will kept his headphones on and his head down.

It's times like these Will wishes he could turn back the clock and never have snapped on Chance five days ago. Chance finally agreed to leave him alone and never give him anything again, and Will was suffering.

He was never hungry anymore, Vecna was able to talk to him more often, and he was always sick. Will wants to go back to how he was before all of this. He was happier when he was high.

Now, as he stabs a little too aggressively at his school lunch, goosebumps slither up his arms and legs to his neck. He shivers in response, and he knows what's coming.

'Will...'

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

A red droplet lands on Will's left hand, and he drops the fork he was holding to quickly rise to his feet. His friend's eyes follow as he rushes out of the cafeteria with his hand under his nose.

He finds his way to the bathroom, but this time he isn't sneaking a cigarette with Chance. This time, he's gathering toilet paper and holding it under his nose as he falls in front of the toilet.

He hasn't eaten, but his stomach still tenses which causes the familiar burning feeling to rise up his chest. Just like last night. He drops the tissue and sits up further, leaning towards the toilet bowl.

He breathes out of his mouth, trying to force the nausea down. Unfortunately, it doesn't work and he ends up letting go. He hasn't eaten much in a few days, so all it is is stomach acid.

His throat feels like it's on fire, and he watches the drool and blood drip into the toilet. He's so distracted he doesn't feel another presence until a hand falls onto his back.

He flinches, but he knows this isn't a pretty sight and he doesn't want to make it any worse by turning around. He's passed more toilet paper by the person behind him, and he sinks back onto his knees as he wipes his mouth.

"You okay?" The voice asks.

Mike.

Will gulps, cringes at the taste in his mouth, and nods. He feels his face heat up from more than just embarrassment, but tries to push it down.

"I'm going to take you home, okay?" Mike says softly.

Will nods again. Mike waits for a few minutes until Will is done trembling, and careful lifts him off the floor by his underarms. Will stumbles to his feet and leans against Mike to steady himself.

Mike subconsciously brushes Will's hair out of his face and smiles softly before leading him out of the bathroom.

Will lets Mike keep an arm around him as they walk out of the school, Mike muttering something about Lucas and Dustin grabbing their backpacks for them as they leave.