Chapter Text
White. Snow white. The sort of white which blinded the eyes the same as when sunlight reflected off of fresh, powdery snow. Will stood at his newly painted walls, almost blinded by the stark white he chose for them. Pure. Simple. A blank canvas. More importantly, his.
He stood in the doorway in a pair of beat-up, black shorts and an old gray t-shirt currently tainted with specks of white. The paint almost glowed against the black shorts. His hazel-green eyes lingered on the wall, his mind already pondered the possibilities for his blank canvases.
Jonathan stepped backwards as he admired his handiwork.
“This room is yours now,” he stated matter-of-factly as he glanced over his shoulder at his younger brother, eyes filled with a warm affection.
After they defeated Vecna and the Mind Flayer, their lives consisted of grief, a mixture of chaos, and more of the unknown. The government interrogated each of them individually, but El was gone. They knew nothing. Eventually the government moved on, and the town of Hawkins slowly rebuilt.
Each member of the party also moved on in their own way. Hopper asked Joyce, Jonathan, and Will to move into his cabin, which meant the brothers temporarily shared a room, at least for the summer. Their long stay at the Wheeler household ended, so no more hard couches and lumpy mattresses in the basement.
However, as the end of summer neared, the spare bedroom in the cabin now belonged to Will. In a couple of days, Jonathan started a new life in New York City at New York University to study film; his one true passion in life.
Jonathan dropped the paint roller into the paint tray carefully, even though a tacky, white layer coated the bottom. His faded band t-shirt contained small, white droplets of paint, which stuck out like a sore thumb due to the dusty brown color of the fabric. Whichever band image once resided on the material had now disappeared into nothing more than a disfigured blob. One small streak of white paint - barely two inches worth - streaked across his right shoulder like someone flicked a paintbrush at him.
With the paint roller in its proper place, Jonathan turned and faced his brother. “Hey, I want you to promise me something,” his tone softened as he stepped closer to Will and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Will’s hazel-green eyes flickered to Jonathan’s face as they tore away from the crisp, white wall. He blinked a couple of times as if to focus his eyes from the brightness of it.
Jonathan squeezed Will’s shoulder gently. “This is your last year and you’re going to be a senior. Promise me you’ll make the most of it. Be honest with yourself and others. Try asking for the things you want.”
Will blinked as if his brain needed a second to process his older brother’s request. “I don’t know-”
“Yes, you do. Look-” Jonathan started slowly as he took a step closer to Will. He fixed his dark brown eyes on his younger brother, eyebrows raised with an intense seriousness.
“You’ve come a long way these past few months, and I’m so proud of you. I know you’re going through things I can’t possibly understand, and the world is still a scary place, but there are people here who care about you. Maybe-” his voice trailed off temporarily as he briefly looked away from his brother.
“Maybe you should take your newfound courage and run with it a little more.”
Will stared at Jonathan for a long moment, opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, then tore his gaze away. An uneasiness flickered across his face, etched into his brow. A hint of dread filled the pit of his stomach as it threatened to twist in knots. He wore his thoughts and emotions on his face, so before he uttered a single word, Jonathan stopped him.
“Will, seriously. You helped defeat Vecna and the Mind Flayer. You helped save lives. You’re braver than you think, so promise me.” Jonathan reassured him once more with kind words and another gentle squeeze to his shoulder. He even leaned down slightly as he forced Will to meet his eyes.
Will sheepishly met them. “What if I don’t? What if I can’t promise that?” He asked hesitantly.
The comforting hand on Will’s shoulder fell away and dropped back down to Jonathan’s side. “Do you remember that crystal vase mom loved so much? The green tinted one she received as a wedding gift?” Jonathan asked, his voice calm and collected.
The youngest Byers swallowed thickly, his mouth suddenly dry, and yet his tongue darted out to moisten his lips all the same. He knew the one. “Y-yeah,” he replied shakily.
“And do you remember how it broke?”
“Y-yeah.”
“And do you remember how I took the blame for it? How I was grounded for an entire month because she loved that vase?”
Will nodded slowly in response as he followed along.
A slow, sinister smirk pulled up at the corner of Jonathan’s mouth. “How do you think mom would feel if she learned the truth?”
A sharp, audible gasp fell from Will’s lips. “You-you wouldn’t dare!” He exclaimed in disbelief as his voice raised two octaves.
“What even makes you think she would care after all this time? Or that she would even remember?” Will questioned as he folded his arms over his chest indignantly.
A small rumble of laughter radiated from Jonathan’s throat, his Adam’s apple bobbed in the process. Despite the dark hue of his eyes, a twinkle sparkled in them as he clearly enjoyed this far too much. “Will, she mumbled something about that vase a month ago. Trust me. She still remembers,” he stated pointedly.
Will pressed his lips into a thin line as he nearly glared daggers at Jonathan, and yet his eyes lacked any sort of anger. After all, Jonathan loved him unconditionally, even before he confessed his truth to the party. The same big brother who cared for him, fed him, clothed him, and helped raise him while their mother picked up extra shifts at Melvald’s to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads.
“I never asked you to take the blame.” Will shot back quickly as he raised both of his eyebrows sassily.
Jonathan ran his hand over his face and inhaled deeply in frustration. “You’re right. You didn’t. But if mom grounded you for a month, that meant an entire month without Mike. An entire month without Dungeons and Dragons.”
Will’s entire face softened and his arms loosened their stance. “That’s-you’re-” he sighed. “You’re not playing fair.”
Another rumble of laughter - much softer than the last - filled the otherwise quiet room. “Who said anything about fair?” He questioned, a playful hint present in his words. “Promise me, Will.”
“Fine,” he almost whined. “I promise.”
“Pinky swear.” Jonathan held up his hand, pinky outstretched at an angled bend.
Will rolled his hazel-green eyes dramatically, but curled his own pinky finger around his brother’s. They shook their hooked pinkies downward a couple of times as they cemented their promise.
Jonathan lowered his hand first as the same sinister smirk pulled up at the corner of his mouth. “Good. You can start by telling Mike the truth about the painting.” The words fell from his lips so effortlessly, as if he thought about it for a long time.
A loud groan erupted from Will and he shook his head defiantly. “This is blackmail!” The youngest Byers exclaimed once more with a huff of annoyance.
“Well, I could just tell mom the truth…” his voice trailed off.
The same familiar sense of dread twisted Will’s stomach in knots once more. A shaky breath fell from his lips at the mere thought. Suddenly, his mother’s beloved, broken vase seemed like the better option. However, once Joyce discovered the truth, then both of her boys faced her wrath. Between the first lie when Jonathan covered for him, and then the second when Will allowed Jonathan to take the blame; she would be one unhappy momma.
It seemed like such a foolish thing for their mother to be upset over a vase broken years ago, but Joyce loved it more than anything. Her mother gifted it to her as a wedding gift, and a few, short months later, the woman passed away. The sentimental value meant more than anything, and when it shattered, it also felt like a precursor to the end of her marriage with Lonnie. Eventually, their marriage resembled the shattered, fragmented shards of glass scattered on the floor, never to be pieced back together.
However, more importantly, Will promised Jonathan to be more honest. Will never backed down from a promise.
Will’s brow knitted together as a sharp, sudden intake of air rushed past his nostrils, audible in the otherwise quiet cabin. The fear and dread rushed towards his chest, tightening it like a vice. “Wh-what if-” his voice cracked and cut off as the same fear etched into his face.
“What if he hates me after - after I tell him the truth?” He asked quietly, barely a whisper. Will sounded small, far too small.
Jonathan shook his head immediately as he recognized the signs. His own features softened, his dark eyes filled with warmth. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around Will tightly. “Don’t think like that, okay?” He questioned with an uptick at the end.
The oldest Byers pulled away, but his hands remained on Will’s upper arms. “Listen to me,” he demanded, his eyes finding his brother’s once more.
Will paused for a moment, then his eyes fell on Jonathan’s face.
“I can’t guarantee he won’t be angry. He might be. But Mike would never hate you. You two are best friends, and after everything, I think you owe it to him, and to yourself, to tell him the truth.”
“I-I don’t know..”
“Either way,” Jonathan started before his arms dropped back down to his side slowly. “You should probably go see Mike before school starts and see how he’s doing.”
Will nodded as his lips turned downward, a sadness in his eyes.
El. They all lost her. In the first few days after her death, the group grieved and supported one another as much as possible. They shared stories and fond memories of their friend and sister. At first, a small part of Will - even infinitesimally small - hated El and her choice. They all fought a never-ending battle against the Upside Down, Vecna, the Mind Flayer, and even the government. They finally defeated their enemies, but in the end, with the government still looming overhead, the battle was ongoing for El. She would never be free.
And in that realization, Will learned to accept her choice. He still hated it, but he accepted it. He accepted it because he loved El. He loved her as a sister, as a friend. If he told Mike the truth now, then he betrayed her. She never commissioned the painting. She never said those words when they fell from Will’s lips in the van. He spoke those words. He spoke his truth.
Perhaps not sharing his truth was an even bigger betrayal, not only to El, but to Mike too.
Mike became inconsolable after El’s death, and he spent most of the summer indoors. Lucas, Dustin, and Will all tried to rally around Mike, along with some other members of the party. Glimpses of the old Mike burst through the surface occasionally, but those short-lived moments quickly reverted back to quiet despair.
As another wave of fear clenched his stomach, Will nodded at his brother. “Okay. I’ll-I’ll talk to him.”
“Good.”
Will paused for a moment. “But when you’re away at school, how are you going to know I’ve lived up to my promise?” He asked curiously.
“I’m going to call regularly to check in on you and ask about your life. I’ll know if you’re lying to me, Will. You’re a terrible liar.”
An incredulous, loud scoff fell from Will’s lips. “Has anyone ever told you, you’ve gotten annoying in your old age?”
“Nope, but if you tell me as much, it’s a lie.”
Will groaned in frustration. “You’re insufferable.”
“Another lie.”
This time Will heaved a sigh of defeat, then giggled as he shook his head. A bright smile sprung across his lips, dimples creasing in the corners of his mouth. “I’m going to get cleaned up.”
Will stepped forward once, then stopped in his tracks before he turned to look at his brother once more. “Thanks Jonathan.”
“For what?”
“For being my brother,” Will smiled sweetly, softly. Even after everything he endured for years, he was still the same gentle, kind-hearted, Will Byers.
Jonathan returned the smile, infectious-like, as he reached out with his hand and ruffled Will’s hair affectionately. Brown locks darted in every direction, and yet the goofy grin on the youngest Byer’s face showed no signs of annoyance.
With that, Will finally turned on the heel of his feet and left the room.