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Being possessed in your early teenage years by an eldritch inter-dimensional shadowy spider is not well heard of… unless you’re Will Byers. If you are, then, you probably didn’t just hear about it, you lived it.
But fortunately for him, that was a long time ago. Now, Will is twenty-two and he’s in Uni, he’s happy and he’s with his friends. Safe. Nothing can hurt him anymore… other than the fact that he’s still desperately in love with his best friend.
Alas, he lived past all of the pain of being kidnapped and losing control of both body and mind, so this is nothing compared to everything he lived through.
And live he did.
One of Will’s favorite things at the moment is living. He loves being alive and what that brings with it. Smelling the rain, eating and tasting his favorite chocolate cake in a little cafe near a hidden park, picking flowers on his walks, listening to Mike come back home to their shared apartment while the music is playing softly in the background, pouring some of his creativity down on a canvas or a piece of paper, being warmed up by sunshine in the afternoon, going to a movie, talking to his favorite people about nothing and everything, watching Mike read or write, hearing Lucas’ laugh, listening to Dustin explain something, going to brunch with Max, having ‘Arts & Crafts’ afternoons with Jane, going walking in parks with Jon, calling his mom and Hopper and losing sense of time.
Despite everything, Will is having a blast with this thing called life.
He still has his lows, of course he does. He tries so hard to be joyful most of the time and stay positive about the future, excitedly looking forward to what life will offer next, but, unfortunately, the lows are still always lurking. There are some times in which Will can feel himself closing off, rebuilding walls long destroyed, and falling into a deep sadness that seems to be rooted into his being, a mourning of what life could’ve been for him and for everyone who has been affected by what happened to him, if it hadn’t happened at all.
The hardest ones, though, come out of nowhere, when life is treating him well and he isn’t expecting it. And this story is about that.
Will is laughing at some comment Mike made, some joke about what happened in the latest issue of X-Men, when suddenly Dustin interrupts, “Speaking of which, I never knew what happened to my Uncanny X-Man 2.” He sports a thoughtful, sad face now. “I hope wherever it is, it’s being taken care of.” He looks up at the ceiling, clutches his hand to his chest where his heart is and closes his eyes with a pained look.
“I’m sure you don’t need to worry about it, Dustin.” Mike replies looking straight at Will with a glint in his eyes.
Will locks his gaze with Mike’s, a puzzled look in answer, nonetheless he agrees with him, “It’s probably at the hands of some teenager discovering the joys of X-Men.” At that Mike tilts his head and purses his lips, Will knows that look. He’s trying to figure something out, Will isn’t quite sure of what but he knows that much.
They move on past that topic and continue on, Mike stops staring intently at Will at some point but he keeps trying to furtively steal glances at him anyway, which as attuned as Will is with everything Mike, he of course notices. Then the sky turns orange and Dustin and Lucas start gathering their stuff to go home. Five minutes later they are out of the door with promises of seeing each other again on Monday.
Mike and Will start cleaning their living room, and Will is throwing the trash when it starts unraveling.
“So, have you, perhaps, donated the X-Men?” Mike casually asks.
“Gasp! How dare you? I would never do such a thing! All my X-Mens are safely in my room in Montauk. Never speak such profanities again.” Will finishes with the trash and turns to Mike with a pretend scowl.
He looks like he is trying not to laugh and his almost black eyes seem to be filled with shiny stars in it. He is so beautiful.
“I apologize, my liege.” He does a slow half bow and continues cleaning the table. “So, I was right, Dustin does not need to worry about his ‘lost’ X-Men.” He is smirking and Will feels the intense and stupid need to fucking kiss it. But then, a second later, Mike’s words catch up to him.
“I’m sure he doesn’t but what does that have to do with my secured X-Men stash in Montauk?” Will sits down on the couch and stretches out, arching his back trying to crack it. He waits for Mike to answer but when he doesn’t he opens one of his eyes, having closed them to stretch, to look at him, thinking he may have gotten focused on one particular stain on the table that he always tries to clean. The stain is basically as much a resident of this apartment as Will and Mike at this point.
Instead, Mike is focused on Will’s direction, more specifically the patch of Will’s stomach skin that is now showing. At least Will thinks that’s what he was focused on, it’s too quick to be sure but Will still hopes. Mike shakes himself off of whatever trance he was in a second after Will opens his eye.
He dropped the cloth he was cleaning the table with and walked halfway to the couch, he’s standing there in the middle awkwardly knowing he should either go back to the table or continue his way to the couch, to Will. Predictably, he closes the distance and sits by Will’s side.
“Well, don’t you remember that night I caught you with Dustin’s issue?” Mike throws another smirk towards Will.
“What are you talking about?” Will asks not really paying attention because Mike just knocked his knees against his.
“That night in 84 when I climbed through your window and saw you laying down on your stomach, feet up and swinging with Uncanny X-Men issue 2 in your hands. Will Byers, you are a mischievous one.” Mike is laughing at the memory but when he turns to see Will’s face he abruptly stops.
Will feels an immense sense of dread fall down on him. He does not remember that at all. His eyes are wide and his breathing is turning erratic. Mike wouldn’t lie to him, Mike would never, he wouldn’t create an innocent story like this specifically about Will having Dustin’s issue.
“Hey, hey. It’s okay, Will. I’m sure Dustin won’t mind that you forgot to give it back. It’s okay.” He wraps his arms around Will and holds him tight because he knows this helps. What he doesn’t know is that, in reality, it’s Mike that helps. As long as Mike is with him, Will knows he is safe. So his breathing does slow down again but it’s not what Mike thinks, it’s not okay, because Will didn’t just forget to give Dustin his comic back. No, he forgot that whole night.
“I can’t— Mike, I can’t— fuck. I don’t remember it.” At the shakiness in Will’s voice Mike finally seems to catch that there is something else.
“What do you mean?” He keeps scratching at Will's scalp, but his breath has stuttered and he is holding on to Will a bit tighter. Like he wants to keep them both protected by what he feels is about to come out of Will’s mouth.
“I have no memory of that night.”
It’s out, that means it’s real and that makes Will start to hyperventilate. Mike opens his arms also knowing when Will would feel trapped with arms around him.
Will curls up on himself trying to grasp the air nearest to his body, he distantly acknowledges Mike dropping down to the floor on his knees in front of Will and saying something, but it just sounds like he is under water.
“Will, baby, lay back. Lay back. Baby, don’t curl in.” Mike is pushing against his shoulders and guiding him gently to lay back against the cushions. “I need you to belly breathe.”
“How—“ Gasp. “Don’t—“ Another gasp mixed with a sob. “Mike—“
“Shit. Okay. I got you, baby. You’re gonna be fine.” He sits against the cushions himself and maneuvers Will into sitting between his legs, back against Mike’s chest, knowing not to cage him and leave an open exit. Then he brings one of his hands to Will’s chest and lays the other against Will’s belly, embracing him from behind. “I’m here. I’ve got you, Will, I’ve got you. You’re going to push my hand on your belly, okay? Not the chest one. Make my hand on your belly move more with your breathing.”
“I’m—“
“You can do this, baby. I know you can. Try it,” Mike murmurs encouragingly.
At first, Will continues to move Mike’s hand with his chest, he gets so pissed off at the fact that he can’t do this one simple thing Mike asked him to do that he comes to the conclusion he just needs to feel Mike’s hand more firmly, so he grabs Mike’s hand on his belly and puts it under his shirt. Skin to skin contact. Mike’s hand is warm, and he seems to understand what Will needs. He splays his fingers firmly against Will’s belly and simultaneously Will feels him soften the hold of the one on his chest.
This seems to help Will focus on only one, trying to grasp at the one with a firmer hold, the one he can feel the most, the warmth of it. Mike’s fingers are splayed out against Will’s stomach, twitching slightly, not moving but restless all the same.
“You’re doing so good. So good, Will. This is it. You’ve got this, baby. Keep going.” Will finally seems to realize that he started belly breathing. He can feel the air going to his lungs and himself calming down. He rests the back of his head against Mike’s shoulder once he can finally breathe all the way in again. Mike places a kiss on his temple. “You’re okay. I’m here. We’re okay.”
Will turns his head into the side of Mike’s neck and hides there for a while. Mike’s hands haven’t moved much. The one on his chest is closer to his heart now rather than in the middle of it and the one on his belly is caressing him slowly, making lazy and careful unrecognizable shapes. It tickles, Will can’t help but let a sweet giggle out.
“There you are. Hi,” Mike whispers softly.
“Hi,” Will replies into Mike’s neck, like a secret, “You called me baby.” Mike laughs lowly and Will smiles.
“I did, didn’t I?”
“You did.” Will giggles again. “Care to explain?”
“Freudian slip?” Mike turns his head and kisses his shoulder. “When you’re ready to move, I’d like to show you something.”
They stay that way for a few minutes still, with the warmth of the late afternoon coming into the apartment, holding tight and keeping one another from falling apart.
At some point Will starts feeling thirsty. He tries to ignore it at first, not wanting to move a muscle but his mouth is really dry whereas his face is not, with remnants of tears and it has been a while since he drank water. He is starting to have a headache as well. So with much sorrow he peels away from the cocoon that he was in made by Mike.
Will gets up fast, not allowing the moment to linger long enough so that it turns awkward, in contrast Mike’s hands are slow to leave his body and he blinks startled at the suddenness. Will takes him in and he wants to whine, he is so mad at himself for letting a tender moment like this, with Mike, end but also so mad that it only happened because Will couldn’t control a simple thing as his own fucking breathing.
Will looks at where he was hiding his face and sees a wet patch on Mike’s shirt made by his tears. He feels his face burn hot and he doesn’t doubt that his cheeks are flushed. Will wants to rip his eyes off in shame, instead he turns sharply to the kitchen not looking back but he does say, “Need water, you can show whatever you want to me in a bit.”
The only thing he hears in answer is a hum. While he is filling his cup with water he hears some shuffling coming from the bathroom but doesn’t pay it much mind. When he is halfway done with the cup, Mike shows up by his side and Will turns towards him instinctively.
He is holding a bottle of Advil in his hand offering it to Will and Will could kiss him right now. Well, he could kiss him anytime but right now especially. His headache has increased and so he grabs the bottle and gets a pill out,quickly swallowing it.
Then he smiles warmly, “Thank yo—“ He is hoping for a smile back but Mike is frowning and he is about to apologize or ask what is it, not sure yet but it doesn’t matter because Mike reaches under his chin with his index finger, thumb near his bottom lip, and lifts it up, so that Will’s face is tilted up towards Mike. Then without saying a word, he lifts his other hand up and softly dries the remnants of Will’s tears away with his thumb.
Will just stares up at Mike with pure adoration, then in an old-fashioned way his mind reminds him that he not only left a wet patch on Mike’s shirt and neck with those tears but also that when he was hidden there he actually fucking pointed out the fact that Mike called him baby. Will wants to bang his head on the wall for, what is very likely, not the first time in his life. And yes, okay, Mike did confirm it and he did imply it’s a desire of his to call Will baby but this could very easily just be a trick of the mind, it also wouldn’t be the first time in his life to happen.
Then, because his own mind is not exactly a good friend or not even an ally really, more like an enemy, it points out the fact that he still doesn’t remember the memory Mike told him about. He goes into an internal spiral about what other memories are lost to him at that time, there’s no external tell that he is barely hanging onto himself, that he is starting to get dizzy with every possible moment that may have been stolen from him.
Mike notices it anyway, for the first time in a while Will thinks that as much as Will is attuned to everything Mike, the same goes the other way.
Mike brings the hand that was under his chin slowly down to his neck, then to his shoulder, lightly traveling it down Will’s arm, making Will shiver and bring him back to the moment, then Mike interlocks their fingers, “Come with me.”
They walk together into Mike’s room and Mike squeezes his hand three times before letting go, feeling untethered Will flops down into Mike’s bed. He watches as Mike gets a box from his closet, when Mike brings the box closer to the bed Will scoots back until he hits his back against the wall, making space for Mike.
“So, uhm, I had this thing… after you came back. It’s— I’ve been told I was being paranoid but I think it would help you now. Or if not help, just– I don’t know. Actually, this is stupid, if you don’t want to do this I comple—“
“Mike, just show me,” Will says, fondness flowing through his whole body.
He sits down on the bed and drops the box in front of him on the ground, then opens it and rummages inside it a bit until he has what looks like an old journal in his hand, Will vaguely recognizes it. “It’s— the memory I told you about it’s on this one. And some others too.” He mumbles the last part as he hands the journal to Will.
Will realizes with shock that Mike is shy about this. As he watches Mike shift back until he has his back against the bed’s headboard, legs half stretched out, socked feet almost touching Will’s thighs, Will feels the need to kiss his cheeks…. and forehead, and tip of the nose, and neck, and lips…
Will is lost in his thoughts until he feels a nudge against his thighs, he instinctively holds Mike’s ankle to stop the nudging but keeps his hand around it believing it will reassure both of them in some way.
The journal is perched on his lap now, one hand loosely holding it, he looks down at it and reads Property of Mike Wheeler at the bottom, and sees a sword drawn in the middle. Suddenly Will remembers drawing that exact sword on a journal and demanding his mother to perfect her handwriting so he could gift Mike his first customized journal.
He remembers listening to a seven year old Mike telling him how he has a bunch of ideas for a campaign and stories he'd like to write. He remembers asking for a yellow almost gold paint for his own birthday. He remembers at eleven gathering his own money to buy a deep blue journal because he knew it was Mike's favorite color. He remembers sketching how he wanted it to look and then making it real. He remembers being afraid of messing it up and he remembers the look on Mike's face when Will finally gave it to him. He remembers how his heart skipped a bit at how Mike smiled and ran to hug him.
With one hand Will opens the journal, and on the first page it's written Ideas and under it My Will Moments, at this Will looks up at Mike. "I meant it like a diary, except, well, it's a recollection of my memories with you," Mike starts explaining himself before Will can get a word out. "Well, actually, it was at first the journal I used for campaign ideas and plots. But after you… anyways, I couldn't even think properly, let alone have any ideas for campaigns, and after you came back.... I became quite obsessed with keeping you and every moment we had, still am honestly. I guess I was a bit paranoid about losing you again, and, listen, I’m aware it's a bit weird but– what are you… doing?" Will shifts Mike's legs so they open up, and pushes himself on his knees to get in the space between them, then he turns around and lays against Mike's chest for the second time in that day, a day that it's fading away, turning into evening. "Oh." It's the only answer Will gets.
"Sorry, it makes me feel grounded. I’ll go back to–" Will starts to shift away but Mike loops his arms around Will's waist, firm but loose enough that if Will really wants to he can leave.
"Stay. Please. I like you here," He speaks into Will's hair, right above his ear. Will squirms a bit and Mike holds him a bit firmer.
"Okay, sorry."
"Stop apologizing, you did nothing wrong. Just… don't move too much, okay?" Will hums while Mike reaches out with one of his hands to turn on the side table light, a soft yellow light that will allow Will to read the memories better.
And that's what he does, with Mike holding him he reads everything that Mike wrote. Even those first pages that were only plots and ideas. There's a gap on the dates (because of course Mike dated every entry) of one week and then it comes back to a description of Will's day in the hospital every time Mike went to visit.
Then, they turn into moments at his house, Will reads about how Mike biked through the night, through the rain just to go give Will his lava lamp because he had noticed Will almost sleeping in lessons, and so he knew Will was having trouble sleeping. Will reads about how Mike found him exactly as Mike had told him earlier, how he 'had the cutest of smiles' when Mike had climbed through the window. How Will didn't let him go back to his house in the middle of the night, how Will went to tell Joyce and made her call the Wheeler's house to let them know because 'it doesn't matter if it's the middle of the night, they shouldn't let Karen wonder when she wakes up'. How Will demanded that Mike took a warm shower and borrowed his pajamas, how that was one of the last times they shared a bed until now.
Because that’s what they do now when Will finishes reading, it’s late and Will feels too drained to do anything except sleep. There were memories that he remembers, most of them, but there are ones that are lost to him. That hits him hard, because just reading them made him feel all kinds of strong emotions, and yet Will will never have them back. He is really grateful for Mike to have written and for him to care this much about it, especially with how descriptive he is with them all, it helps Will feel like he truly was there.
It’s not the same as remembering being there though, so every memory he doesn’t remember no matter how hard it made him laugh or smile, it’s as of now tainted with a bit of sadness.
Every moment that Will had spent the years before thinking Mike hadn’t really cared about him in that year, the one he needed him most, was just entirely a result of manipulation. Every deleted memory is a memory that Will would’ve clung onto at times in need, times where he felt alone.
It was a long time ago though, and even without them he has learned that Mike had always cared about him and always will. Before today he’d would have said that maybe it wasn’t the same way that Will cared for him, but the way Mike called him baby is still echoing in his mind, he won’t do anything about it now, because right now they are cuddling each other to sleep but he will eventually get around to it.
The hope that Mike might feel the same encourages him immensely, and trust that he’ll make good use of this encouragement.
Later he’ll also find out that there are a couple memories taken away from him with others, but most of them are mainly his Mike’s memories, which will continue to upset him to no end every time he thinks about it. But every time Mike will be there by his side, ready to hold him while he talks about it or while he gives him another one of his journals.
Then in one completely normal, uneventful night, Mike will be blushing and telling him about how they watched the stars together while laying down on his rooftop and their hands had casually grazed and Will will just not be able to help it, he will surge forward and kiss Mike hard but slowly all the same, willing and making sure that no matter what happens this memory could never be taken away from him.
Mike will then blurt out against his mouth that he wants to take him on a date and Will won’t be able to resist pressing his very big smile against Mike’s own and repeat yes until Mike will shut him up with another kiss.
Some memories are gone, never to be brought back, but there are so many more they will make together. Stupid silly moments as well as the tender deep ones.
So you see, Will has his lows but he is in love with being alive and Mike, lovely amazing Mike, helps him feel like it.
