Chapter Text
15th August, 1982
Wilted lilies and white carnations, the petals polluted the waxed floors of the church, the smell of a burnt out candle, that the gentle breeze sneaking in through the creaked open doors blew out, disgustingly overwhelming amounts of greased leather scented shoes and borrowed suits, red lipstick blended with the smudge of a mascara running down old, wrinkled faces and young ones alike. A thousand senses filled 12 year old Will Byers senses, as he tried to make sense of what is going on around him.
Jonathan grasped his left hand in his palm, and gave all of his effort to stay still, and maintain a blank expression. His mother seemed very upset, occasionally bringing her hands to her eyes, to wipe away stray teardrops, while his father sat next to her, staring mindlessly ahead, onto the raised podium, where a small wooden box laid. It was closed, so Will couldn't tell what was inside of it, the only thing being on his mind, that he remembered, that he could still recall up to this day, many many years later, is that he wished that Jane, his sister was right beside him, so he wouldn't be so terribly bored.
They could play with their newly, carefully curated and folded Fortune Teller, of which's edges have already started to crumple and become worn down from the constant opening and refolding of it. Jane would pick the same two sequences, so by the time Will was moving onto second grade, and Jane started fourth, Will strategically folded and wrote the same fortune for his sister to get each time.
Blue, then the number three, Will would write 'you will die at the hands of your lover', which he thought was incredibly amusing at the time, — later he wouldn't find that innocent childish joke funny at all — inspired by the movie that their father would always fall asleep watching, with that awful smelling beverage hanging loose from his left hand, a low burning cigarette barely missing the rough fabric of the decade old sofa in their living room.
They always played the scary movies late at night, when the broadcaster channels assumed children would already be asleep, however they didn't account for the fact, that at the Byers house, thing used to be a little different. Joyce, his mother had to work night shifts, of course, as their lame excuse of a father were always, as he said "in between jobs", which everyone knew was code for being fired from every single place of employment, because no job takes a drunk seriously, Will certainly didn't, and well, he was just an 8 year old child. And they sure as hell don't want to keep a liability around for longer than needed.
Consequently he turned to wasting his days away, drinking everything that had a percentile marking on its bottle, smoking his lungs rotten, until Will learned to find comfort in the awful, lingering, rotten smell of tobacco, and the aggravating sounds of coughing and snorting, throat clearings to no relief.
For years he still felt the effects of the loud house he grew up in, the lasting effects it had on his nervous system, and he found it unimaginable to find peace and quiet, loud music filled his dorm room, and he tucked a cigarette behind his ears when he went for walks, so comfort and childhood was just a spark of a lighter away, which he never even ended up buying.
Looking back, he realized that Jane was probably picking the same numbers and colors each time, so Will could have his juvenile fun. But now, here he sat, on the uncomfortable, hard wooden seats, playing with the folded up Fortune Teller in his too big suit jacket, not realizing his sweaty hands are making the ink bleed to a point, where the next time he even stomached to look at the paper, most of the words had become unreadable.
Joyce's shoulders shook silently and if he didn't focus his attention to it directly, he wouldn't even notice the small movements of his mother's body, or the stillness in his father's posture as he slowly, carefully planted his palm on his wife's knee, — a label, that he wouldn't be able to hold over Joyce for much longer, after the funeral — which she grasped desperately, wringing it anxiously.
Will didn't understand it, how could he? All he knew, was that he was bored out of his mind, and that he couldn't wait to get back home and get back to the sand castle building competition they were holding that summer with his friends, the judge being Jane, commonly agreed, as she was the oldest, with her 14 years of age. Her taller frame and deeper voice commanded respect that Will's little group gave without question. What little Will and his friends didn't understand then, and for a few years coming from then, was that they would someday be older than Jane.
Summer was almost over and the nights became shorter and cooler even, Joyce ordered them home by 8 pm, which was very early for a group of wild and relentless boys, and compared to Dustin and Lucas's curfew, Will felt like a baby. But, the rules were the rules. Jane would throw her arms around Will's shoulders and guide him back into the house. The movement implied friendliness and relation, but deeply it was guidance and protection, something Will wouldn't feel for a long time after that summer.
Now all his friends were sat in the back row, weeping quietly into tissues, their mother's holding them tightly, worried that they would slip out of sight and grip, eventually ending up in a similar, beautifully, but terribly carved wooden casket that was presented in front of them ten rows ahead. Far out of reach, but perfectly accessible to Will. Will wished he could have been sitting with them in the back, craning his neck towards the back, but instead of mischief, he was only met with sorrowful eyes from old people he didn't know.
The Byers family stood up in the front row, and Will finally felt relief and a hint of excitement bloomed in his chest. It's finally over, isn't it? I can finally go back to playing.
He couldn't believe they would waste his last days of summer with such dreadful activities like sitting in a cold church.
"Mom, can we go out to the lake with Jane when we get back?" Will pulled at his mother's clothes. He knew that his mother was upset, and he had a feeling that now might not be the best time to ask for favors, but in his young mind, the ask couldn't wait. And he knew Joyce, she would forgive him anything, so he looked up at her, with hopeful eyes, which she did not return.
The lady holding his mother's hand glanced down at young Will, her eyes filled with terror and disbelief, looking back at Joyce, then back at Will. Will returned her confused look. A painful, pitiful expression came over the woman's face.
"Oh, sweetheart," she cried, reaching her clammy palm out towards him, to caress his cheek, which only made him more frustrated. Why isn't anyone taking him seriously, why isn't...
The guests lined up to offer their condolences. By the fifth person that grasped his mother's hand and murmured low, displeased lines Will couldn't quite catch, he started to suspect why Jane wasn't with them.
The room spun and he could feel his blood leave his face and pool in the pit of his stomach, twisting with dread, his ears ringing and the last thing he saw was a strobe of light coming from all over the place, as if he had landed on the surface of the sun. Suddenly the temperature wasn't so pleasantly cool, his body burned up, all of his senses blinded.
Jane was dead.
And not only was she dead, she was murdered.
Will vowed that day, in his black, two size too big rental suit, in the scorching hot church, that he would kill whoever hurt Jane.
1st of April, 1992
"One month left until graduation, how do we feel, little Byers?" Lucas grabbed Will's shoulders from behind, as he was deep inside his locker, oblivious to his friend approaching him sneakily. It was true, they only had one month left until they finished high school, and he could finally leave small town Indiana life behind, and move onto bigger things. How he felt about that? Great question, - it was all, Will could think about. "Bigger things" meant, as in the Big Apple, New York City, NYU and a fresh start. A clean state, a life, where he could be anything he wanted to be, not the freak, not the weirdo with the dead sister, who was murdered, without her killer being ever caught. Will turned to face his friends, Dustin and Lucas, and with the motion he closed his locker.
"Unsure, check back later," he sighed with a tired smile on his face. It's been a long day. He wiped his palms on his jeans, which was a bad idea, the paint he had used before hadn't dried properly yet, and the action left a small red streak on his thigh. He frowned at it, but didn't react. It wasn't the worst thing that day.
"Fair," Lucas grinned and threw his arms around both Will and Dustin as they slowly started to make their way down the almost empty hall, towards the parking lot. The sun hung low as the day had passed, light orange shadows casted the shiny tiles and yellow coated walls, light reflecting off football trophies and medals behind the large glass cabinet. Lucas probably had his name on one of those trophies, Will wondered. A breeze sneaked in through an open window, lifting flyers pinned on the cork news board.
"I seriously cannot wait until summer," Dustin started. "It's going to be e-pic!" he declared, excitement raising in his voice. Finally, something Will could relate to, or at least try to.
"It's going to be sick,' Lucas agreed. "We have to make the most of it, it's our last few month together before going away for college,"
"Is that not a little bit dramatic?" Will chuckled, shrugging off Lucas"s hand as they reached the exit. He pushed the heavy metal door open, holding it for his friends as they passed through.
"Dude, this is serious, who knows when we'll see each other again?" Lucas held his arms out exasperated. "We'll all be sooo busy, once the first semester starts,"
Will knew deep down that they were right. With Dustin going away to MIT, sure he wouldn't be far away, but he will be far busier than the other, so they'll barely see him. As Dustin frequently said, he'll barely see the sun, let alone people. Lucas is headed to California, with his basketball scholarship, which is on the other side of the country, so that's enough said.
"I know, I know," Will said defeated, holding his hands up, "I'll be busy this summer too though, don't forget I'm going to be working at the craft store," he reminded the boys of his summer 'internship', well not exactly, but it's what he was calling it. It's the closest he'll get to any work experience related to art, that is not just painting in his room or drawing sketches of random objects. He needed something real, and the extra money wasn't a down side either.
Lucas groaned audibly and Dustin slapped his shoulder.
"Good on you, man!"
"Not good! We should be out every single day, doing god knows what!" Lucas objected, fumbling with the lock on his bike.
"Maybe you should get a job as well, Sinclair," Dustin pulled his mouth to hide his amusement.
"Yeah, probably," he answered after a few seconds of silently considering the idea, “Are you guys hiring still?” he turned to Will with an innocent grin.
“Doubt it, I was lucky even to score this for myself,” he sighed. "Where's Max, by the way?" Will asked looking around instinctively, as if the redhead would jump out, out of nowhere at 4 pm at the school. His eyes landed on Lucas, who suddenly turned awfully quiet, turned away to examine the crimsoning evening sky, gnawing on his fingernails.
"Lucas?" Dustin repeated, now both boys looking pointedly at their friend, who was still avoiding their gaze, looking anywhere but at them.
"Did you guys fight again?" Will asked, dropping his shoulders in nuisance, raising his head towards the sky, pulling a palm across his face. Dustin dropped his head, then squatted down and buried his face in his hands with a deep sigh.
"Seriously, dude?" he spoke muffled from behind his hand, but the frustration seeped through the barrier anyway. Lucas was finding it difficult to keep the peace between him and his girlfriend, Max, who happened to become a very welcomed and big part of their little group of friends, so anytime they quarreled, it affected all of them.
"It's not that deep, we just had a little... disagreement, so to speak," he put his pointer finger on his chin, looking up to mimic deep thinking, when it became clear to Will, that Lucas was incapable of such thing.
"Oh my god," Will managed simply, while Dustin shot up to his feet again next to him.
"Okay fine, I don't care what it was about," he started waving his finger in the other boy's face. "It's a Friday afternoon, I am not spending it again in your room playing DnD, so we are going over to Max's, and you are apologizing," he ordered.
"Agreed," Will nodded eagerly, pulling on the strap of his heavy backpack, ready to hit the road again, preferably headed towards the Mayfield's house, which was just about a ten minute bike ride from the school. She was probably already at home, now that Will had come to think of it, he couldn't even recall seeing her that day at school at all.
"No, come on, guys! She's always blowing things out of proportion, why can't she apologize for once?" Lucas begged seemingly fed up, which at the rate they had fights nowadays, it was quite understandable, that one would come to become tired of constantly apologizing. Will, or Dustin never asked, or if he knew, he just didn't tell Will, but he always assumed their fights were about going away for college. Long distance is probably not easy, at least that's what Will would've guessed. It's not like he had any experience in relationships other than the ones he read about, or daydreamed about.
However, now was not the time to decide who owed who forgiveness. While Will would be content going home to his room, perhaps continue his painting, or read his book or even just watch a movie with his mother then fall asleep on the couch, with popcorn spilling all over him he equally wanted to see Max. There was some truth to what the other boys were saying, after all, it is their last summer together.
"Lucas," Dustin said impatiently. "It's getting dark, and I'd rather die, than spend one more minute on that campaign!"
"It's going somewhere, okay?" Lucas bit back offended.
"No, it's not!" Will and Dustin answered at the same time.
"Yes, it is! Will? Help me out, bud?"
"It's really not, sorry," Will repeated, when Lucas looked at him, his eyes begging for some degree of support, which he unfortunately could not provide at the moment. Any other time, Will was Switzerland, he never took sides, he was the person to turn to when you had a fight with someone, because he was the king of remaining objective, even when it came to inter-friendship conflicts. Lucas dropped his shoulders in defeat, then sighed.
"Okay fine," he finally said. "You guys are fake friends, and I'm beginning to think that the foundation that our friendship lies on is fundamentally broken, and a facade."
"Now you're just being dramatic," Will choked down a laughter, walking up to him and knocking him in his side with his elbow, at which the other boy yelped out loud.
"The foundation being what exactly?" Dustin asked for clarification, clearly just to annoy him even more.
"If you seriously don't know, I don't know what to tell ya' Henderson," he sighed dramatically, turning his head away cinematically.
"Be serious," Will nudged him again.
"Okay, fine," Lucas resigned. "After Dustin admits he's a fake."
"I'm not, and on a serious note, we really need a better story teller if we want to keep playing DnD," Dustin answered casually while finally beginning to unlock his own bike. Will watched the movement eagerly. He was so ready to get out of here, as amusing this conversation was, he'd rather have it on a comfortable couch, rather than the empty school parking lot.
"Hmph, clearly,"
"Dustin, just admit it, so we can go, please," Will pleaded bored. Dustin was just about to open his mouth to object, then he stopped, seemingly thought about it, then a disgust-like grimace spread across his face. He then eventually said; "Fine, I'm a fake."
"Hah, there it is, I knew it," Lucas grinned exultant, punching the air with his fists. "Okay, let's go see Max," he then said with much less excitement.
"Took a while to get there," Dusting sighed, relieved.
"I'm proud of you," Will patted his friends arm, and they shared a smile. They got on their bikes, in almost perfect synchrony as they usually do, then started to make their way down the street towards the redhead's home. They could only pray that she had calmed down enough to let them in, although Will was ninety-nine percent sure she was in the right, whatever their disagreement was about.
"Hey, let's stop for snacks," Lucas yelled behind him towards Will and Dustin as they were nearing the gas station on the intersection on main and the road leading to the highway.
"Good idea," Dustin barked back, standing up on his bike to pedal up to upcoming hill, he shot forwards catching up to Lucas. Will agreed on it being a great idea, as he already assumed Max''s wouldn't have much to eat, and he was starting to feel starved. He hadn't eaten since lunch, which was hours ago. Plus, what kind of a hang out is one without snacks and drinks?
They slowly rolled into the parking lot of the old, beaten down gas station. The neon green light of the sign flickered in the dusk, which had painted the town an oppressing grayish blue hue, that was almost worse than complete darkness. Will found that time of the day most depressing, the change between day and night, so short, yet always felt like the longest hour of the day. Crickets started to chirp, laying low in the grass and the woods surrounding practically each building in Hawkins, the temperature dropped drastically, making the environment perfect for dew to collect on the ends of grass strands, that would stain Will's socks and Converse shoes in the morning.
"You know this might be a good idea as a peace offering too," Dustin confided Will in while they locked their bikes up.
"Yeah, true," Will agreed squinting his eyes to see better, as it was dark enough for him to keep missing the hole to close the locket.
"Hey, guys?" Lucas asked cautiously, interrupting them.
"You have to pull it through here," Will explained while watching Dustin struggle with the chain. He reached over and grabbed it to do it for him.
"What, where?" he subdued, dropping his hand watching Will eagerly.
"Here!" he gestured, raising his voice slightly, unintentionally, but he was growing impatient, because to him it seemed obvious. To be fair, Dustin always had a worse vision than him.
"Guys?" Lucas asked again, raising his voice as well.
"What?" Dustin asked back impatiently, as if to ask 'What now?'.
"Since when is Michael Wheeler back in town?" he asked, his voice so quiet, Will almost thought he has imagined it. He straightened up, along with Dustin immediately, not turning towards the direction their friend was looking, as to not bring attention to themselves.
"What?"
"Are you serious?" Will hissed under his breath. Suddenly the need to stay silent was unavoidable, it settled on the three boys like a primal instinct, as if they were deep in the woods at night, hiding from some sort of predator, fearing for their lives.
"I'm dead serious, unless you know other freakishly tall, lanky, black-haired guys around here," Lucas whispered back, turning towards them. He was probably staring already was too long.
"What business does he even have here?" Dustin asked annoyed, "Didn't his family like, move out after the... incident?" he said ultimately, after searching for the right words, looking at Will.
They hadn't seen Mike Wheeler since Jane's funeral, and even then it was all a blur. Will wasn't sure if he had imagined him being there, of if he was actually there. He used to be his sisters, Jane's best friend, often times the adults thought it was more, joked about them being boyfriend and girlfriend. But Will always knew, on the confinement of his older sister, that they were merely friends. He had no other choice but to believe this, and it was easy, because it was the explanation that fit his narrative best later on, and as a child, he didn't really understand what boyfriend and girlfriend even meant, really.
The whole mystery around their relationship, and just the unfavorable circumstances made Mike a huge suspect in Jane's death. And Will couldn't help but wonder, all these years if he really had something to do with it. All these years, passing without answer, he started to believe it, down to his core, in every fibre of his being, that it was true. When he was nine or ten, a year after the funeral he started to conspire with his friends, and that summer they started to draw up a plan to gather evidence, then eventually take revenge on Mike Wheeler for killing Jane.
But that year, in June the Wheeler family suddenly up and left town, and nobody ever heard from them again. Will was forced to backlog his plan to take revenge, and focus on school instead, and "healing" as the state funded therapist called it. What a bunch of bullshit.
"I thought he was literally banished from town," Lucas frowned.
"Banished?"
"That was a rumor, dumbass," Dustin snarked rolling his eyes.
"Well clearly, he's here, so that's not the case," Will managed to join the conversation, dragging himself out of his thoughts. He tried to keep his voice as still and calm as possible, but inside, his heartbeat tried to catch up with his racing thoughts.
"Can we look? Is he looking?" Dustin asked, tight lipped, careful not to make it obvious, that they were talking about him, even though Will wasn't even sure where he was. Or if it was even him.
"I-, I don't know, maybe," Lucas frowned into the darkness, "Let's just go inside, maybe you can catch a peek from there," he offered.
"Good idea," Will affirmed.
"Yeah, I'm starting to feel a little unsafe too, to be honest," Dustin agreed, high in spirits from the rush of this little unexpected run-in. Will had a feeling that he was enjoying this more than he should be.
The bell above the door clinked loudly when the boys entered the store, the cloud of strangeness and unease floating above and around them, oppressing the air like a thick fog. Dustin grabbed and held up a bag of crackers, turning it around, examining it, as if he was suddenly very interested in nutrition, just to do something with his hands. All while Lucas walked to the back of the store, to take a look at the drink selection. Will couldn't help himself any longer. He looked outside.
He scanned the empty gas station, no cars were lined up getting any fuel, only a lonely moth buzzed around the flickering lights. The roads were quiet and empty, every so often a deserted car rolled through with a loud whoosh sound, stirring up the fallen flower petals and old crinkled up leaves left behind from fall. There's no one here - Will thought raising his eyebrows in confusion, squinting to see better, when finally, he noticed a car that he previously missed, parked on the far end of the lot.
The parking light was on, a dull, yellow ray of light lit the cracked asphalt in front of it, illuminating the bugs and dust flying around the mid-spring air. In the car, a dark figure sat, Will couldn't see his face exactly, but the New York license plate, the trust he had in Lucas's sight, all felt good enough evidence; Mike Wheeler was back in town.
The fluorescent lights blinked above the aisles of unhealthy food and carbonated beverages, windshield washer fluids and cheap cigarettes, that Lucas was eyeing way too obviously. The trance kept him tightly confined, a space somewhere else entirely, he was dragged into by the sheer sight of a shadow, that could have easily been someone else entirely. But Will had a feeling, a feeling so deep and unnerving he just couldn't shake. He had to find out and he had to make sure.
He slowly gravitated towards the exit without even realizing, his legs carrying his body, his subconscious guiding him. The automatic doors opened an the cool evening air rushed in, hitting him in the face that made him finally snap out of it.
"Will!" Dustin hissed a quiet yell at him, hoping to catch his attention. Will stared out into the twilight, and only shifted his gaze back to his friends after the glass doors closed on him, revealing his confused frame in its reflection.
"What?"
"What do you mean, 'what?', get over here, man!" Dustin waved with his free hand frantically, his other hand occupied with a large bag of chips - onion chips, which Will hated, the pure smell of it made him want to vomit. He walked over, his focus still on the black sedan parked with the lights still on, just mere yards away.
“Dude,” Lucas appeared next to them, or he might have already been there for all Will knew, grabbed his arm, pulling him close. Will crouched upon finally reading and understanding what happened, mimicking his friends huddled up positions, “What are you doing? Are you trying to get yourself noticed?”
“What, no, I just-,” Will began to try and explain himself, but the words didn’t come so easy. What was he doing, really? Sure he was curious, eager even to find out if the guy Lucas saw was really his long lost one-sided enemy, Michael Wheeler, of it is was just a game of shadows. Whatever came over him, shouldn’t happen again. Because as soon as the possibility of it being him became an option, Will had already decided. His appearance not only brings up unresolved conflicts and questions, but the memory of Jane. Sweet, little Jane, who was just a child, and Will still needed her, so really, whoever had the nerve to even think, let alone act on the idea that she deserves anything bad happen to her, is unimaginable. Whoever Mike Wheeler was, he was no human. Because if he was, he wouldn’t have killed Jane.
“Will, buddy, look at me, please?” Dustin placed both his hands on his shoulder which made him realize that he was already looking back at the entrance, lost in his thoughts. He forced himself to meet Dustin’s eyes, his eyes flickering over to Lucas’s worried and kind of scared expression. The last idea made Will even more confused, because what ever could Lucas be scared about?
“You need to get it together, man,” Lucas added, slowly straightening his posture, “Get your asses up, because this looks even more suspicious than blatantly staring at him,” he instructed dusting his palms on his capri shorts.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Dustin agreed standing up as well, the momentum of it grabbing Will with him. “The cashier probably thinks we’re stealing already, too,” he added as if they needed any more conviction, or things to have anxiety about.
“Sorry,” Will sighed.
"You're good, dude, just," Lucas looked around searching for the right words. "Just try and keep it together, okay? At least until we get to Max's."
"Yeah, okay," Will nodded rapidly, just to assure his friends he was okay.
"Wait, so let me get this straight," Max stood in the doorway, holding the door open with one of her arms, her face confused and in disbelief after listening to all the boys had to say, "You are sorry for saying that 'seeing each other only every other week is not that big of a deal', which by the way, I never said it was," she pointed at Lucas, "Bold of you to assume I can't go a week without you, and second of all, you all just think you saw Michael Wheeler at the gas station at five pm on a random Friday, after 9 years of being off the radar," she fixed her gaze on Will and Dustin, all of them nodding eagerly. She stopped, put her hands on her hips and examined the guy's faces, as if she was looking for a sign of deception or exaggeration.
"Exactly," Lucas affirmed stepping closer to her, at which she didn't move away, which was a good sign.
"Can you let us in? It's cold and I'm freaked the fuck out," Dustin crossed then rubbed his arms, faking a shiver.
"Fine," she stepped out of the way. Lucas gave a quick kiss on the top of her head then hurried inside, followed by Dustin, then Will. Max gave him a reassuring look, and a friendly smile tugged at her lips.
"At least I have you, to keep me sane with these men," she rolled her eyes, placing her hand on Will's back guiding him inside, then closing the door. Dustin and Lucas already settled on the couch, Dustin draped a blanket over himself, and he was explaining something to Lucas while clutching the fabric tightly. Lucas was nodding along to whatever he was saying. Will pulled his shoes off and followed the rest of the group in the living room, where he dropped himself down on his usual spot, the armchair aimed directly at the TV. Will assumed Max's stepfather usually takes this place.
"Where are the folks?" Dustin asked.
"Gone for the weekend," Max answered casually, as if her parents being gone, leaving her alone at home was completely normal and routine for them. Will could sort of relate to that, although not much anymore, since he was also trying his best to keep out of the house as much as possible. Since Jonathan left for university, his mother had become way more clingier, and Will felt she asked more of him than he could and should manage as her child.
"So you say Wheeler's back," Max brought up the topic again, her voice betraying that she was feeling unsure, whether it was true or not. "I assume that means that your plan's back on?" she nodded towards Will. He opened his mouth to answer, but Lucas preceded him.
"No way," he shook his head, sitting up straighter, so everybody would pay attention to him. "That plan was created by a bunch of 9 year olds, Wheeler is a grown ass adult now, I am not trying to get killed."
"You could easily take him though," Max said, leaning back in her seat, offering a challenging smile.
"No, he's right. Our original plan wouldn't work," Dustin shook his head as well, staring ahead of him as if he was thinking about coming up with a new plan. Will couldn't quite find the words he was looking for, and he couldn't even really grasp what he was feeling. What he felt was injustice, and it felt horrible. It plagued his childhood and the one thing he wanted, was for it to no rot his future and present. What Will needed was Mike Wheeler to be put behind bars. But the case was 10 year old, every evidence probably had already washed away, and anyway, how do you prove that an 11 year old planned and carried out a premeditated murder? It all just seemed way too complicated and difficult to solve.
"Will?" Max looked at him.
"I don't know what to do. I don't know what I want to do," he spread his arms out wide, looking helplessly at his friends. "Look, all my life, the only thing I ever thought about, the only thing I really wanted was for Jane to get justice. But honestly, now that he's here, now that there's a possibility, I don't know what to do," he dropped his arms, sighing deeply, "I want him to suffer. I want him to hurt the way I did, I want him to just even feel a whit of what I felt, see if he could bare it. But I don't know how."
As he finished, his eyes settled at Lucas, then Dustin both of their faces filled with sympathy and understanding. Then he looked over at Max, who seemed to be deep in thought, a slight, mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Will frowned at her, then her eyes met his.
"I know," she announced, excited.
"Oh my god, what?" Dustin looked at her with intense interest. He looked like he could jump out of his skin in excitement, which Will found familiarity in, back from the gas station. He rolled his eyes disapproving, but light-heartedly. He wasn't really mad at his friend for finding entertainment in all of this. At least some good is coming out of it.
"What is it?" Will asked cautiously, pulling his mouth already into a frown, scared what his seemingly crazed friend is about to offer as solution.
"I know what you're going to do Will, and you just have to trust me," she started, grinning widely now.
"You're scaring me, Max," he informed her, his eyes widening.
"You know what, you should do," she started. “I think, Will, you should seduce Mike Wheeler, and destroy his life by breaking his heart into shambles,” she declared lifting her chin up in the air proudly. Will felt his jaw drop to the floor, along with Dustin's and Lucas's.
“You’re joking,” Lucas said finally, after a moment of stunned silence, what they were all thinking. Lucas shared a look with Dustin, who was shrugging his shoulders as if to say he doesn’t get the idea either.
Honestly, it was not something that was easy to imagine, yet Will let himself get lost in the concept. He supposed he didn’t deem Mike exactly as unattractive, but still. It was crazy, right? Even if Will didn’t fully believe to his core, that that Wheeler kid killed his sister, there was still a good possibility, right? I mean, everyone thinks so, and everyone can’t be wrong. He physically shook his head to rid himself of these thoughts and refocused his attention to Max, who was still sure of herself, a self-assured expression settled into her features as she observed the guys.
“I don’t know, Max,” Will finally managed. “I mean, it’s creative, out of the box, for sure, but I’m just going to put this out there, I’m open to more ideas.”
“Come one, Will. There is a solution to all this! You’ve got to see that!” Max objected faking offense, but her face and tone didn’t match each other, and that made Will think that maybe she doesn’t even mean it seriously.
“I doubt it’s what you’re implying though,” Lucas interfered before Will could form his mouth around the word ‘no’. Or ‘no way’, or possibly ‘you’re crazy’. But he would never say the last one, because if he learned one thing about women, even if it came completely useless to him as it turned out, was that you never, ever call a woman crazy. Even if she is.
“Why? You have any better ideas, genius?” she turned annoyed towards Lucas, their previous disagreement and conflict poisoning their interactions even after they supposedly made up. Maybe that was just for Will’s sake.
“I can’t seduce him, he’s also like two years older than me, Max,” Will added before Lucas could think of a snarky comeback. Seems like they keep saving each others asses today. Will felt a wave of satisfaction come over him, for returning the favor. He even let a slight smile escape his lips.
“Okay, sure. But like two years is not a lot at all,” Max countered looking over at Dustin.
“Yeah! I mean, I’m friends with Steve and he’s like primordial,” he nodded eagerly, his mouth full of chips. He kept making sounds with the wrapper all throughout the conversation which made Will feel even more on edge. He only just realized he had started to bounce his legs and wring his fingers, and immediately he made it a point to stop it and focused his attention on the dusty bricks of the fireplace. He wondered when it was last used, as it looked pristine and brand new, even though the Mayfield’s have moved in years ago.
“I’m gonna tell him you said that,” Lucas said reaching over to grab the bag of chips from Dustin.
“Wait, don’t, I’m joking,” he panicked.
“Wait, isn’t Steve like Nancy Wheeler’s ex-boyfriend?” Max wondered out loud after a beat.
“He is,” Dustin supplied grabbing the chips back with an impatient move.
“Well, what a great network we have here, then,” Max said, satisfaction spreading across her face and looking over at Will, raising an eyebrow. Will shook his head in response, as if to say, forget it, whatever it is you’re thinking.
“It’s useless,” Dustin said. “They didn’t meet until high school, years after everything… happened,” he bit the end of his sentence, glancing at Will with sympathy in his eyes. God, can everybody just act normal and stop babying me? He ignored his friends pity.
“Okay, even if that’s all true, I doubt he’s looking for a boyfriend anyway, let’s not forget that he’s technically Will’s sister’s ‘ex’,” Lucas added.
“There’s no proof of that,” Max pointed at him.
“Right! And you never know, and even if, sexual orientations do change, look at Will,” Dustin exclaimed sitting up straighter. Will slid his palms across his face.
“This is insane, you guys cannot be serious about this,” Will pleaded.
“Maybe, we just shouldn’t even do anything at all, he might just be in town for a few days, or,” Will interjected, “He might already be gone!”
“Yeah, probably,” Dustin deflated, visibly slumping back into the sofa. With the movement he accidentally kicked Lucas, who shoved him away with his hand.
“I still don’t get why he’s here,” Max pondered rubbing her forehead, “I thought they would’ve tied up all loose ends when they left,”
“Yes, the way they left, I mean,” Lucas thought about it too, for a second leaving a dramatic pause, looking around knowingly, “If I were them, I’d make sure I’d never have to come back at all.”
“You know what, I kinda feel bad for them,” Will murmured, immediately regretting it.
“What?” asked almost all three of his friends in complete disbelief.
“I do! It’s just, there really was no proof of all this and I know very well what it’s like to be bullied and made miserable over something out of my control,” Will stated with a serious look, hoping he wouldn’t have to elaborate because his friends knew well enough how Will was treated all throughout high school because he was gay, and even back in middle school when he himself had no idea that how he felt and how he was was anything other than “normal”.
“But, Will!”
“What if it is true?” Max asked seriously. She had sat back into her seat, which she slowly rose out of while she was getting heated up about her absolutely awful idea.
Maybe her and Dustin can start a little summer club out of this, huh? Will’s worst nightmare come true, how interesting and exciting! Will didn’t mean it though, and he immediately felt bad about thinking like this. He knew deep down everyone was just hungry for some excitement in their lives, and he couldn’t blame them. Because what he didn’t dare to admit to himself in the moment was that he felt the exact same way.
“But what if it’s not? Then we’re making him more miserable for no reason,” Will explained finally. No matter how he felt, he couldn’t get revenge on someone he wasn’t sure deserved retaliation.
For a moment, to Will’s greatest relief there was silence. Everyone seemed deep in thought, considering this side of the coin, which they clearly didn’t think of yet.
“Well, he deserves it,” Dustin eventually said.
“You don’t know that,” Will emphasized, what he felt like for the hundredth time. He still felt like he was talking to three brick walls, the way they only heard what they wanted to. “Let’s just leave him alone. If the universe wants us to have something to do with it, things will go that way either way.”
“You’re seriously leveraging on fate?” Max leaned forward in disbelief, raising her eyebrows and widening her eyes.
“I mean why not. Got any better ideas?” Will shrugged, “Despite the ones that involve me getting into an older, straight guy’s pants? Who was my sister’s best friend, — possibly boyfriend?”
“Well, when you put it that way,” Lucas rolled his eyes, then stood up and went towards the kitchen, “Anyone want a drink?” he asked, and when no one paid mind to him he turned and disappeared behind the wall.
“Ugh, you guys are so boring!” Max exclaimed leaning back in her seat dramatically, “I need new friends,”
“I second that,” Dustin nodded.
“Sorry, I’m not gonna flip my world upside down, especially not now, for your entertainment!” Will put his hands up in defense, letting out an uncomfortable chuckle. He was well enough ready to go home now. Tonight definitely didn’t went the way he imagined, hoped it to go.
“Yeah, yeah, exams and cramming are way more fun anyway,” Lucas assured sarcastically, dropping down on the sofa with a glass of coke in his hands.
“Not everyone is blessed with Dustin’s big, beautiful brain,” Will poked his tongue out, childishly mocking his friend who still feigned hurt.
“Clearly,” he huffed animatedly.
“Can we just watch the movie?” Will sighed, “I’m tired of this day,”
“Fine, but we’re not done talking about this,” Max agreed standing up to get the VHS player ready, looking over the movie cassettes coughing from the dust on them.
“Do not threaten me, Mayfield,’ Will said, joining Dustin and Lucas on the couch, dropping down next to them and letting his head fall back on the pillows.
He couldn’t even remember what movie they ended up watching, all he remembered from the rest of the night was the uncontrollable race his thoughts have taken on. What was Mike Wheeler really doing back in town? And why was he so intrigued, and suddenly believed there was a possibility of him to be innocent? Will spent all his childhood and teenager years, late nights where he couldn’t sleep he thought about it all the time, he promised himself. If he had the chance, he would serve the justice the police was incapable doing back then, all those years ago. And now he felt like he chickened out.
Will opened his eyes, feeling like he was hit by a truck. The TV had turned off, a dark grayish-blue colored screen buzzed low, providing just enough light for him to realize he was still at Max’s couch. Lucas and Dustin sprawled out on the pulled out sofa next to him, deep asleep. Max was nowhere to be seen, probably went into her room to sleep in her bed. Will sat up and rubbed his eyes, and maybe it was the tiredness, the exhaustion and the intense emotional state he still felt himself in, but that night, at 2 in the morning, under the blue hue of the old box television, Will Byers decided to not be a coward. He was going to finish what he started that summer. Whatever it took.