Chapter Text
“Do it, Wheeler.”
“Just fucking do it, you pussy.”
Sweat pooled at Mike’s forehead and slid down his neck. Never before had he felt fear like this. The button felt too warm to be holding, like it was radioactive. One press and it would electrocute and potentially kill the boy on the other side of the room. It might kill Will Byers. The boy who got him through this hellhole of a prison.
Initially, the guards lied to them. They said it would be some harmless trial that could potentially release them back into their normal lives. Mike didn’t think that they would be making him kill the boy that he loved so deeply.
Will was on the other side of the room tied up in a metal chair. Wires were connected all over his body that it seemed so inhuman. Maybe it was. A dark, ugly bruise bloomed across his left eye and blood dripped from his nose. A few minutes prior to where they were now, the guards had ripped them apart. They made Mike watch them beat Will until he stopped resisting.
Now Will sat there waning in and out of consciousness. He looked horrible, to say the least. Mike felt like he wanted to cry. Will was never supposed to have anything bad happen to him again. Mike promised. He never meant it to be empty like how it was becoming.
“Well are you going to do something yet, Wheeler? Time is ticking.” The guard had an unnatural curl to his toothy grin. Something too sinister to really name.
—
Mike woke up to a bumpy road and darkness. His ribs ached from being tossed around in whatever kind of vehicle he was in. A bag firmly sat on his head that obscured him in a deafening darkness while his hands were tied to his back.
Who knew at the ripe age of 17 years old that Michael Wheeler would get kidnapped. How unfortunate, really.
All Mike could remember before the darkness was his car breaking down. It was a piece of shit and bound to happen eventually. A decent enough man pulled up to the side, while Mike was having a rage room moment with said car and his foot. The man offered a ride to the nearest gas station and he accepted. It was as simple as that, until he drank the bottle of water that the man offered. After that, everything went blurry.
Mike knew he was dumb for forgetting the whole concept of stranger danger and not getting into random people’s cars. Nancy would surely beat him when she found out. Probably berate him for being such a dumbass. If only he could see her now. Mike would gladly be scolded or hit by his older sister.
The vehicle he was in slammed to a stop, throwing Mike into the side. He just knew the bruises he was going to have later would be insane. Slowly, the vehicle turned onto a gravel road that bumped for a few miles until finally cutting to a stop. Quickly after, the engine died down into nothingness. A car door creaked open then slammed shut.
Fear nuzzled its nose into every fiber of Mike’s being. Would he be tortured? Killed? Maybe turned into a cannibal’s dinner? That one might be absurd, but he didn’t know. All he could think about was that something terrible was coming.
Maybe this was God’s way of punishing him for not being truthful at confessions last Sunday.
The metal of the door slid upward and coasted a cool breeze in. The vehicle had to be some sort of van or hauling truck. A firm pair of hands gripped Mike harshly and left no room for him to wiggle. He tried to scream but nothing would come out and his lanky body felt heavy. It felt like an anchor was tethered to his ankle sinking him down.
“Huh? This is new, no struggler,” an unrecognizable voice muttered in surprise.
Mike felt his body be dragged through the cold night like a sack of potatoes. He knew if he tried to put up a fight, he would probably get the shit beat out of him. It was not something Mike wanted when he knew he had to conserve his energy for whatever crazy situation this was going to be.
A silent warmth enveloped his body once the unknown man dragged him through a gated doorway. Mike could see a white tiled floor from his small, obscured view by the bag.
“Ah, we got a good one. He’s sure to be promising,” spoke a man with a light, almost soothing voice. “What’s this one’s name?”
“It’s Michael Wheeler, sir. In his file he seems to go by Mike.” The man seemed to struggle with holding up Mike’s lanky figure. He kept fumbling and Mike was quite honestly uncomfortable with the whole ordeal.
“The one from Hawkins?”
“Yes, sir. Agent Owens picked him up off the side of the road.”
“How delightful. Well you can leave him on the cot and go.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
The man slung Mike’s body onto a hard mattress. At first, Mike thought he wasn’t putting up a struggle because he simply didn’t want to, but that seemed to be false. His body was not letting him move. It was as if Mike was paralyzed and the only thing he could do was think. Or in his case, internally freak out.
Mike thought that this was his last time drinking water from some random old dude.
Hands suddenly prodded Mike’s body into the perfect laying down position: Head on a hard pillow and body perfectly straight. The bag was slipped off to reveal his shoulder length curly hair and freckles that dotted his pale face. Mike’s eyes wavered slightly due to the blindingly white light.
“Hello, Mike. It’s nice to meet you. Such a tall yet skinny fellow you are.” Spoke the blonde man with strikingly cold blue eyes. A smile played on his lips but didn’t reach too high. The man seemed so unusually human that it was scary.
The fear was prominent in Mike’s chocolate brown eyes. Even though his face could not contort, his eyes held every emotion that he could’ve thought in that moment. Cold gloved hands probed and fondled at his body and left him feeling that it was too close for comfort.
“Ah, I could see you’re scared. Don’t be, it’s only a paralysis drug that paralyzes for a few hours. You’ll be fine after I’m done with your examination.”
With that, the man twirled Mike’s long and messy curls between his gloved hands. A smile creeping up to his lips once again. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you keep your hair like this. It’s a safety hazard.”
Welp, there goes Mike’s 80’s hairstyle. Goodbye luscious and thick curls. This was something that he would definitely cry about later.
The man stepped away to a cart that had all sorts of tools on it. He picked up a large pair of metal scissors that glimmered in the blindingly bright light. Swiftly, the man stepped back over and carded his fingers softly through Mike’s hair until he had gathered a clump of it. A loud snip-snip-snip could be heard through the room for what felt like hours.
“So much better, Mike.”
Just as before, the blonde man stepped back over to his cart. This time he twiddled with a syringe full of a clear liquid. Maybe it would be poison and Mike would instantly die. Nobody is that lucky though.
A damp cloth wiped over the inside of Mike’s arm, prepping him for this mysterious needle. “This might pinch a little,” said the man as he flicked the syringe. The injection did more than pinch, it stung like a wasp.
“I can’t have you awake for this next part, Mike. Sorry.” Mike felt his vision start to swim and become hazy. “We’ll meet again soon. Sweet dreams.”
Darkness and tension flooded over Mike for the second time that night.
—
A cold yet damp breeze was what Mike woke up to. He awoke on a hard bed, with a thin blanket covering his body. Upon trying to sit up, his head collided with the metal platform above his bed.
“Ack! What the fuck?” groaned Mike as he rubbed at his head.
Bunkbeds? How fun. Mike in fact has never had the privilege of sleeping on one nor did he ever want to. But alas, here he was now on a cold, hard bunkbed.
First being kidnapped, then his hair, and now this bullshit. This was sure turning out to be a great day.
Mike got out of the bed and the first thing he noticed was his clothing: a deep navy jumpsuit with slightly tattered cuffs on the pants. There was a small nametag embellished into it that read ‘Wheeler’. The only lucky thing about this particularly horrendous piece of clothing was the pockets. Thank god for that. Also, Mike was quite happy to know he was wearing clean socks, even though the shoes he had on were crappy.
The room was small and made mostly out of concrete. Cold to say the least. There was a window with metal bars that leaked a blue shadow through the room. At least there was the privilege of a small wooden desk in the corner with a chair. The desk was warped and looked like it had definitely seen some better days. Lastly, came the matter of the sheer iron door with a small window.
Where the hell had Mike gotten himself stuck?
Another plus was the room came with a built-in mirror. Mike leaned down slightly and took in his hair. It was cropped short to the point where only some curls crested against his forehead. Mostly though, his hair was flat and in need of a shower asap after his oddly terrifying night. Mike thought that this was the shortest he has seen his hair since the age of 12. Nostalgic I guess.
As Mike swiped his hand through his hair a gazillion times, he failed to notice the other person in the room. That was until they made eye contact through the mirror.
“Holy shit!” Mike yelped as he turned around to face the other person. “Jesus, dude! I didn’t even realize there was another person in here.”
Silence.
“So, uh… hey, I’m Mike. What’s your name?” Mike asked after the initial shock wore down.
Another painfully awkward silence followed suit.
The boy sitting on top of the bunk huddled into himself. His eyes didn’t drift from Mike, as if he feared that if they did, Mike would do something terrible to him. The boy’s hair was a messy, chestnut color and he looked like he had gone through hell.
This was somewhat surreal for Mike. He had never witnessed someone so fear induced that they were afraid of him. Mike, a guy who sure was tall, but skinny as shit. Mike, who barely had any form of muscles in his noodle-thin arms. He bet that this other guy had more muscles than he ever could.
Mike’s eyes skimmed over the boy again until he found the same nametag that he had. Only this time, it read ‘Byers’. Pretty normal last name, and at least it wasn’t anything hard to pronounce.
“Byers, huh?” The boy swiftly darted his gaze away and instead stared at the thin, grey blanket in his lap.
The tension in the room was quite palpable. It was deafening in a sense as well.
Although it came to a quick ending when a loud CLANG rattled through the room. What the fuck? The sound repeated over and over, becoming louder with each passing second. ‘Byers’ looked terrified to say the least.
Yelled sounds rang down what Mike presumed was a hallway with other ‘inmate’ type people. Boots clattered harshly against concrete. Then suddenly the yells came to a stop. A loud CRUNCH noise snapped through the hallway.
By the disgusting noise it made, you could tell it was bone. You could tell it was from another living person.
“GET YOUR ASSES OUT ON THE LINE!” shouted a harsh voice.
What the actual fuck is happening.
The iron door made a release kind of noise and slowly started to creak open. Mike was losing it at this point. Where the hell was he? Prison? Juvie? He had no clue.
“Can you please say something before we go out there, man? I’m losing my shit because what the hell is happening!”
Silence. Then after a beat, “Will.”
The boy who now became Will, got off the bunk and stood in front of the opened door. He glimpsed back at Mike telling him to follow with a look. So, that’s what he did. He blindingly followed another stranger. At least this one had a name.
Once Mike stepped out of the room, it basically screamed prison. Except this prison was filled with boys who looked around the age of 10 all the way up to at least 25. The other difference was that all of these boys looked so drained and pale. It looked as if vampires had sunk their teeth into them and stolen their blood.
The line of boys span down far on each side. Hundreds upon hundreds all in two sets of lines. All looked numb to whatever was going to take place. Mike stood shakily next to Will. At least he sorta new one person even if all the other guy spoke was his name.
“IN FORMATION MAGGOTS, NOW.” Everyone put their hands behind their backs and stared forward. Mike followed along.
“SO, DOES ANYONE WANT TO TELL ME WHY DRISCOLL HERE,” the man pushed said boy into the middle pathway between both lines. “HAS A FUCKING HOLE IN HIS CELL.”
The boy laying on the ground was covered in blood and his neck was twisted weirdly to the side. There was no way this guy was still alive.
Nobody dared to speak. The room became dead silent, where even a pindrop could be heard on the ground.
“NOBODY WANTS TO SPEAK UP, HUH? FINE! BUT IF WE CATCH ANY OF YOU TRYING TO ESCAPE, YOU”LL BE BEGGING FOR DEATH THIS TIME.” The man paced up and down the pathway, his boots clacking harshly.
The man’s tag read ‘Sargent Hargrove’ on his grey military outfit. Sunglasses sat upon his sharp face, and his dirty blonde curls drifted above his shoulders. Mike wished his hair was still long like that.
“GET TO LUNCH, MAGGOTS.”
With that, Sargent Hargrove walked back to an office type room and stepped inside. What a friendly guy he was.
Mike noticed Will following the group and jogged over to catch up. He didn’t want to lose his cellmate and the only guy who talked to him yet. Even if Will only uttered his name as quiet as a mouse. For now, all Mike could do was follow.
—
“You don’t talk much do you?” Asked Mike as he sat down across from Will.
The cafeteria was large with round tables scattered around the room. Will sat in a corner with his sad slop of food. It was supposed to be chicken and rice, but looked more like a grey sludge. Still, Will ate it with a small grimace plastered on his face.
“No,” uttered Will quietly.
“Well I think since we’re going to be in the same room for a while, we should just be friends.”
“No.”
“Come on, man! It would make whatever this place is, somewhat better.”
“No.”
“Can you say anything other than one word answers?”
Will’s hazel eyes drifted up from his meal to look at Mike, “no.”
“No need to be an ass. Just say you don’t want to talk to me,” grumbled Mike with a huff.
Mike took a spoonful of his grey sludge meal and took a hesitant bite. It was probably one of the worst things to ever grace his poor tongue. Whatever this was, tasted like shit.
“Ew. How do you eat this dog shit?”
Will shrugged in response and took a small sip of water.
“This is literally the worst thing I’ve ever eaten in my life.”
“Wednesay,” muttered Will.
“What?”
“On… Wednesday the food is kinda better. Chicken noodle soup.”
“Ah, so you only speak when it’s about food?” questioned Mike with a hint of amusement edging his voice.
“Maybe.” After a beat. “Only if the food is good.”
“That’s valid though. I would only have one word answers too, if this was the only shit I was able to eat.” Mike stuck his tongue out in response before taking another spoonful. Man, was he hungry.
A small smile cracked on Will’s face before going back to its frown. He looked down again and stirred at the little bit of slop remaining on his plate. As if it held any sort of amusement to it.
“So, do you normally sit by yourself or do you have friends?” asked Mike.
“You don’t have friends in a place like this.”
“Yeah, but like what about all those guys sitting over at that table,” Mike nodded to two circle tables in the middle of the room. “Most of them are just screwing around.”
“You don’t want to be friends with them. They’re… They're as bad as the guards.”
Mike made a hum of acknowledgement as he tried to force his disgusting meal down his throat. His stomach was definitely going to be wrecked after this.
Will studied Mike like he was searching for something. It was something Mike didn’t quite know yet. Soon, all of Will’s food was gone, while on the other hand, Mike had just about half of his meal left. Disgusting.
“I don’t know how you ate this shit so quickly,” he sighed as he took another bite.
“Because of the consequences.”
“What? You get punished for not finishing?”
“Yes,” Will glanced over to the guards who were positioned by the doors before speaking again. “They force you to eat… by any means necessary." He rubbed softly at his throat in thought.
“Oh.”
Silence took over their small table again. Mike started taking bigger bites until eventually he finished. There was no way in hell that he wanted to find out what the consequences are based on Will’s reaction. They were something brutal enough to scar just about anyone into submission.
“Wrap it up guys!” a guard suddenly yelled.
Soon everyone was standing up to throw their trash away and to get into single file lines. Mike followed close to Will so as to not get caught with the wrong group.
“So can we be friends now? I mean you did say more than one word to me,” chuckled Mike.
“Will you be quiet if I say yes?”
“Sure.”
“Fine. But only acquaintances.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll just say we’re friends anyway, Will.” Mike smirked a little at that.
Will didn’t say anything and got into the line to follow out. Mike stood behind him and waited to exit the room. He didn't know what was coming yet but he sure was dreading it.
This place sucked big time. But at least Mike had a friend or “acquaintance” . Aka Will Byers. A boy of mystery and hurt.