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Will doesn’t understand why he has to bear such a burden- why he must witness creatures so grotesque it feels borderline assaultive to his eyes. Demogorgons, they’re called, but putting a name on them does nothing to make them less revolting.
In some cruel twist of fate, he isn’t the victim of their existence so much as the one forced to endure it.
Will never asked to be tied to all of this, yet here he is, carrying the weight of horrors he had a hand in creating.
God, he just wants it to stop. He doesn't want to keep 'birthing' these things. It's disgusting. He's disgusting. He doesn't know how much more he can take until his breaking point.
Still, Will has his theories about why he’s the 'chosen one'. Maybe his own pathetic weakness made him an easy target. Maybe it’s his timid nature that drew them in. He doesn’t know. He never really knows anymore.
With a weary sigh, he glanced around, exhaustion weighing on every breath.
Red skies? Constant lightning?
His eyes widen and his breath falteres in sheer dismay.
He was back. The Upside Down had claimed him once more. No matter how far he ran, no matter how fiercely he clung to the illusion of safety, it always found him- this rotting mirror of reality, this labyrinth without end.
He blinked once. Twice. And then it struck him- there was nothing there. Just an endless expanse of emptiness. The ground was dry and cracked, the sky still bleeding red like always, but the familiar silhouettes of Hawkins were gone. No buildings. No streets. Just space. Desolate. Will couldn’t decide whether that should comfort him or terrify him.
“Mike?” he called into the emptiness.
His voice echoed back, distorted and hollow. The sound made him flinch, his body tensing as he braced for the excruciating tear of flesh- any moment now, he expected to be torn apart by Demogorgons for daring to make a noise, especially when there's nowhere to hide.
But a minute passed. Then another. Nothing.
Slowly, Will lowered his hands from his face.
Huh.
He began to walk. Not toward anything- just away from the stillness. Standing still felt wrong- Will didn't know why.
“Mike?” he called again, softer this time.
The name felt strange on his tongue, almost unreal. He remembered being with Mike last- a sleepover, maybe- probably at Mike's house. The memory was hazy. He hated sleep now, hated surrendering himself to the darkness and its relentless nightmares. But it was always a little easier when his friends were there. When Mike was there.
Shaking his head, Will quickened his pace, desperation creeping into his movements.
“M-Mike?” he called out, voice unsteady. He didn’t even know why he was calling- Mike probably couldn’t hear him. But if shouting into the emptiness gave him even a flicker of comfort, something to fill the hollow that this place had carved out of him, then God, he’d keep calling.
“Mi-”
The sound caught in his throat as something yanked at his legs, jerking him to a stop.
A… vine?
He stumbled, grasping at it, tugging hard as the vine coiled tighter, the rough surface biting into his skin. He could already tell it would leave a bruise.
“Wha- let go of me!”
The struggle was futile- he knew that. Deep down, he knew exactly how this would end. He’d lived this before, felt it in every nightmare since.
A vine coiled tighter around his figure, winding up his body until it pinned him in place.
No.
He can't- he won't- go through this again.
Will shouts, but the sound is swallowed by the air.
He attempts to scream Mikes name once more but the words die in his throat.
They always do.
Something slick forces its way past his lips. Tentacles. He gags, choking on the taste of iron and rot, clawing at his throat as he tries to breathe. More coil around him, tightening, dragging him closer to the dark.
He can't breathe. The tentacle goes down and down. More tentacles wrap around his body in a tight grip, making it even harder to inhale. Tentacles go to places where they don't belong. They don't. Dont dont dont dont dont dont dont
He can’t move. Every instinct screams get it out, but the pressure just builds, filling his chest until his vision blurs.
It’s everywhere- around him, inside him, swallowing every sound he tries to make.
He sobs, shaking, but his voice is gone. Only the wet, suffocating noise remains.
Through the haze, he thinks he hears someone calling-
“W–?”
The sound is faint. He strains to hear it again.
The sound cuts through the noise again- clearer this time.
“Will?!”
The voice echoes, distant, but it's real. It drags him toward consciousness. He claws for it, desperate for something, someone, to hold onto.
And then- air.
_
He blinked, the world flickering between red and black until the colors finally settled.
His chest heaved. He tried to hold his breath- to block it all out- but he could still feel it. Every inch of it.
The memories clawed their way back: the bathroom floor, the sickening heaves, the desperate attempts to purge the vile things that had been forced into him.
A strangled sound escaped his throat as he clawed at his neck, tugging at his hair- anything to rip away the feeling. Before he could go further, a hand caught his wrists, firm but gentle, urging him to stop.
He squeezed his eyes shut, so tightly it hurt, as his breathing grew more frantic.
“Will?” The voice again- softer this time, closer.
Oh. Mike was here.
He wanted to reach out, to feel that reassurance, but he couldn’t.
He couldn’t breathe.
“Will, breathe for me, okay? J-Just follow my lead. See? See how I'm breathing? Will? Will-”
He tried- but he couldn’t. He never could. His lungs refused to obey, each gasp hitching into a choked sob. His face burned; humiliation tangled with panic. He sounded pathetic, he knew that.
He shook his head violently, the world narrowing to the sound of his own ragged breathing and Mike’s pleading voice.
A hand pulled at his wrist, shoving him towards Mike's chest as his arms wrapped around Will's figure protectively. Will's breath hitched as Mike started rocking them back and forth in a comforting rhythm.
"You're okay, Will. Nothing is getting to you, do you hear me? Nothing is getting to you. I'm right here with you, and I always will be."
"M-Mike-" he choked out, but Mike didn't let him.
"Will, breathe for me. I need you to breathe. Nothing will separate me from you, okay?"
Will nodded weakly against Mike’s chest, sniffling. His tears had already soaked through the fabric of Mike’s pajamas, leaving dark stains behind. He’d have to apologize for that later.
Mike’s voice remained steady, soft words threading through the silence. They didn’t stop the tears, but they eased the sharp sobs into quieter tremors.
And then it hit him- on what was happening.
The warmth, the safety, the way Mike held him like he was something worth protecting.
He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve any of it.
Mike should be disgusted, not comforting him.
It was disgusting. How he would choke constantly. Gag.
He was pathetic, wasn't he?
What was the point of it all? Maybe he should've died in the Upside Down instead of coming back and burdening everyone.
Died?
The thought splintered something in him. Another sob tore free, shaking his whole body as Mike’s arms tightened around him, wordless but unyielding.
“Will…” Mike’s voice trembled, but he forced it steady, gentle. He loosened his grip just enough to not restrain, but still held Will in place- anchoring him.
“Look at me, Will. Come on, just- look at me.”
Will's eyes flickered open, leaning back and looking up. His breathing hitched again.
“That’s it,” Mike murmured, brushing a shaky hand against Will’s cheek. “You’re here. You’re safe. Nothing’s gonna hurt you, not now. Not while I’m here. Follow my breathing, okay?”
Will made a pitiful sound- half sob, half gasp- as he tried to follow Mike’s breathing. His chest shuddered, every inhale short and trembling, but he tried. He really tried.
He repeated Mike's way of breathing until the rhythm began to steady, until Will’s body loosened beneath Mike's hold.
“Yeah, that's it,” Mike whispered, relief threading through his voice. "You’re doing so good.”
Will slumped forward against Mike's chest again, breaking eye contact, shuddering exhale. Mike caught him easily, pulling him close, holding him as if to shield him from the air itself.
“It’s over,” Mike said quietly, his voice breaking on the words. “You’re okay now. You’re right here with me.”
For a long moment, neither of them moved. Just the sound of breathing- uneven, but alive.
Will closed his eyes. He didn’t deserve Mike. He didn’t deserve anyone, really. He hated being seen as fragile- someone who would fall apart without constant protection. It made him feel like a baby- constantly needing to be coddled. But sometimes he needed to be held. Because sometimes, he did feel weak. Sometimes he felt like he did need protection.
And he hated it. He hated all of it.
He shook his head to dispel those thoughts and leaned further into Mike’s chest. Mike’s chin came to rest lightly on his shoulder, grounding him in quiet warmth.
It was comforting.
He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, in silence, until Mike finally cleared his throat.
“Will?”
The hesitation in Mike’s voice made Will’s stomach twist. “Yeah?” he answered, wincing at how wrecked his voice sounded.
“Your dream…” Mike began carefully, testing the words. “Did it- uh- have anything to do with the Upside Down?”
Will nodded silently.
"Okay,” Mike murmured, more to himself than to Will.
He slowly loosened his hold, pulling back just enough to see Will’s face. The sudden loss of warmth stung, but then Mike’s fingers slid into his, a gentle grip- an anchor.
"Will,” he said softly, barely above a whisper. “What did you see?”
Will gazed into the distance, eye's hazy.
"I-,"
Why would you tell him?
"I didn't see. I felt."
Will stopped himself. He couldn’t cry again, he needed to be strong.
"I felt it. It touched me everywhere. I couldn’t- I couldn't do anything. It was- it was-"
He couldn't countinue the sentence, his voice cracking and poor attempts at hiding sniffling became apparent to Mike. Mike shushed him gently, carding a gentle hand through Will's hair.
"Will,” Mike soothed gently, reaching out. His hand found its way into Will’s hair, combing through it with slow, tender movements. “You don’t have to keep going, y'know? We can talk about it some other time. For now, let’s just… sleep.”
Will exhaled shakily. Mike’s voice- soft, steady, impossibly kind- slipped through the cracks in his armor. Mike always had that effect on him: dissolving the fear, the shame. With Mike, the atmosphere felt warmer. Safer.
He didn’t protest when Mike guided him toward the bed. The mattress dipped beneath them as Mike lifted the covers and gestured him closer. Will hesitated for a second, then let himself be pulled in- until he could feel the steady rhythm of Mike’s heartbeat beneath his ear.
For a moment, neither spoke. The silence between them wasn’t empty; it was full of everything they couldn’t say out loud.
Mike’s arms wrapped around him, firm but careful. Will let out a quiet, uneven breath, melting into the warmth that surrounded him. His eyes grew heavy, the exhaustion of the day slowly ebbing away as Mike’s thumb brushed lazy circles along his back.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Will let go.
He let the tears fall quietly against Mike’s chest, and Mike didn’t say a word- he just held him closer, like that simple act could keep the darkness away.
The world around them faded until there was nothing but the slow rhythm of their breathing and the unspoken truth hanging between them.
That here, together, they were okay.