Chapter Text
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“In the end, all I hope for is to be a bit of warmth for you, when there’s not a lot of warmth left to go around.”
—
JANUARY 1990.
Being in love, Mike thinks, is pretty incredible.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s an incredibly corny thing to say. Mike knows it, and the other Party members never cease to remind him of just how incredibly cheesy and disgusting (their words, not his) Mike and Will are when it comes to their relationship. El says that the two of them are basically a married couple. Dustin says that the two of them are permanently stuck in the honeymoon phase.
And Mike… well, Mike can’t help but agree.
It’s been over a year now since he and Will started dating—since the two of them confessed their feelings for each other over tearful words and confusing explanations and then quiet whispers full of awe and realization. They’d gotten together right near the end of the war against Henry and all the forces of the Upside Down, and the two of them have been together ever since. That November changed everything for the two of them, and yet, in some ways, it didn’t change a single thing.
Because the more Mike thinks about it, the more he realizes he’s loved Will all along.
Their love hasn’t always been romantic, of course. They’d started out as friends first, then best friends eventually, but somewhere along the line, Will Byers just… became it for Mike. He became Mike’s person, and so, as the years went by, the shift from platonic to romantic love just… came so easily that Mike didn’t even realize it had occurred. It was something that felt entirely natural and something that Mike didn’t even really have to think about—the same way a person doesn’t have to think to breathe or think to keep their heart beating.
Loving Will Byers is the easiest and the best thing that Mike Wheeler has ever done.
And so, if the cost of that is relentless teasing from all of his friends and jokes that he and Will might as well be an old married couple already, Mike will take it. He tends to agree with them anyways. He and Will have just been with each other for so long, and Mike knows in his heart that Will is it for him. There’s nobody else for him but Will. Maybe that’s a bold thing to say at eighteen (almost nineteen) years old, with his entire life ahead of him and really no solid plans for what comes after college, but Mike doesn’t care.
All Mike knows is that when he thinks about his future, Will is always there beside him. Mike is always going to love Will, and somehow, some way, Mike thinks he’s lucky enough to have convinced Will to always love him too.
It’s great. And being in love… it’s an incredible thing.
A frigid breeze blows across campus, and Mike winces, pulling his coat tighter around himself and adjusting his beanie to cover his ears. Somehow, Chicago winters are even worse than Hawkins winters—hell, they’re almost just as bad as the winters in the Hawkins-Upside Down wasteland they’d lived in for two years. They don’t call this place the Windy City for nothing, and now, in the literal dead of winter, Mike finds himself wondering why the hell he and the other Party members didn’t vote to go somewhere warmer for college.
Alright, technically, some of them did. One of the options the Party almost chose was a school out in California that Max had suggested, but ultimately, everyone opted to choose a school closer to their families and in the Midwest.
Looking back on it, Mike wishes they hadn’t. Seriously. He could be on a beach right now, but no. No, instead, he’s walking through subzero temperatures and questioning all the life choices that led him to his moment.
He knows the others—Will, especially—are wondering the same exact thing right now. None of them really like the cold, but Will hates it, thanks to all of his past experiences with the Upside Down. Mike can’t blame him, but hey, the decision has already been made. All of them are already here and attending school together, and nobody wants to go back on that decision. So, the next best thing that Mike can offer his boyfriend is any form of warmth to help him make it through the coldest days of winter.
Sometimes, that looks like letting Will steal his scarf or his jacket or his beanie, even if Mike himself is freezing. Other times, that looks like Will crawling into Mike’s own Twin XL bed that’s definitely too small for both of them and snuggling up when their dorm room gets a little too cold. And some other times, it’s as simple as a warm cup of hot cocoa or coffee from the nearby coffee shop and the gentle squeezing of Will’s hand to let him know that Mike’s here.
(…Yeah, this is probably why Dustin and El call the two of them a married couple.)
It’s just that… well, Mike can’t help it. He can’t help the rush of giddiness and excitement that he still gets every single time he comes home to Will and sees his boyfriend’s soft and familiar smile. Mike can’t help the fact that his chest still gets all warm and fuzzy inside whenever nobody is watching and Will leans over to steal a kiss from him. He can’t help the fact that Will just makes him feel so happy and like Mike is most himself around Will.
There’s just something about Will Byers that makes Mike feel like he’s home. Like he’s safe and protected and like the world could crumble all around them, and yet Mike would be fine, so long as he has Will.
(God, who knew that being in love could turn someone into such a sap?)
After a few more miserable minutes walking across campus, Mike finally makes it to his dorm building, and with his freezing cold and nearly numb fingers, he opens the door and walks inside. Immediately, he’s met a blast of warm air—a sharp contrast to the frigid winds outside.
The furnace is finally working again in their building, and thank God for that. The first week after Christmas break, it’d been hit or miss, and Mike swears he was one more freezing cold night away from marching into the office of whichever stupid director of residential or student life or some other bullshit who’s responsible for getting it fixed.
The lobby is fairly empty, which isn’t much of a surprise. Most people are probably still in class right now, and the ones that aren’t might be headed to dinner by now. It’s already a little bit past 5, so Mike figures he’ll just stop by his dorm room and figure out what Will wants to do for dinner. Personally, even though it’s freezing outside, Mike thinks it’d be fun to go out for dinner tonight, or at least pick up takeout or something and bring it back to their dorm. Will’s probably going to remind him that “they shouldn’t waste money” or something more responsible like that, but… eh, whatever. Mike is craving Chinese food, and he knows his boyfriend will never say no to Chinese food.
Plus, a little night in just for the two of them? It’s definitely needed.
So, with a smile and a little extra pep in his step and a plan to make Will Byers smile, Mike walks up to their dorm room on the third floor. He passes by a couple guys he knows, nodding and offering them cordial smiles, but thankfully, none of them stop to talk to Mike.
Good. It’s not that Mike minds any of the guys from his building—they’re nice enough, and he might even consider a few of them his friends—but right now isn’t the time to talk and chat with anyone. Right now, Mike is hungry, and it’s the weekend, and he hasn’t seen Will all day, and look, really all he wants to do is have a nice night in with his boyfriend.
After an embarrassingly breathless walk up the stairs, Mike finally makes it to his floor. He’s a bit sweaty by the time he makes it upstairs, so he sheds his beanie and gloves, stuffing them both into the pockets of his coat and walking to his and Will’s room. There’s a little bit of light visible under the crack in the door, which means that Will is already home, just like Mike had expected. So, with a small smile, Mike opens their door and steps inside.
The first thing that Mike notices about the room is that it’s freezing.
All at once, a cold gust of air hits him, and Mike flinches, instinctively taking a step back. Jesus, it’s cold in here, which… really doesn’t make any sense. It’s warm in the rest of their building, and sure, they have some control over how hot or how cold they keep it in their dorm… But Will would never have it this cold.
“Will?” Mike asks hesitantly, and he looks around their little room, trying to ignore the strange feeling of dread that has settled into his heart.
It takes a moment, but finally, Mike’s eyes land on Will.
And his heart drops to the bottom of his stomach.
Because over there is Will, passed out on the crappy little couch they have in their dorm. Despite the fact that it’s absolutely freezing in their room and Will hates the cold, he’s dressed only in his boxers and is completely drenched in sweat. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes are closed, and his breaths come in shallow, little gasps, as if he’s having trouble breathing.
“Will?” Mike drops his backpack and all but sprints over to where Will is, kneeling down next to him. A sense of complete panic has seized his heart, and Mike takes a shuddered breath, reaching over and pressing the back of his hand against Will’s forehead.
To no surprise, Will is burning up.
Mike swallows the lump in his throat, pushing his worry away. Alright, everything is going to be fine. Mike can’t afford to panic or to jump to any worst case scenarios here. More likely than not, Will has just caught a cold or the flu from somebody else. It’s freshman flu season, after all, so it was bound to happen eventually.
That’s fine. Both of their moms made sure they had plenty of supplies to take back with them to school, just in case either one of them got sick. They’re all stuffed somewhere underneath his bed, so all Mike has to do is find them and—
Will groans quietly, and Mike flinches slightly, reaching up and brushing his boyfriend’s hair from his face. “Hey,” he whispers, watching as Will blinks a few times, clearly disoriented. “It’s just me. It’s Mike. Are you okay?”
Once again, Will just blinks, the exhaustion growing on his face. “I… I,” he starts to mumble, but his voice trails off. His breathing still seems a bit shallow, and his head lulls to the side, resting heavily against Mike’s hand. “Hot… don’t… don’t feel good.”
Mike takes another shaky breath, and he manages a little smile. “Okay,” he says softly, leaning down and pressing a kiss against Will’s sweaty forehead. “Well… how about we get you into bed? And I… I can get you some water and medicine, and we can check your temp… You probably just caught the flu from one of the others.”
It takes a few moments, but eventually, Will manages to open his eyes and look at Mike again. “Yeah,” he says, his voice quiet and a bit slurred. “Sounds… good.”
Once again, Will’s head lulls to the side, resting against Mike’s hand, and he closes his eyes, as if ready to pass out again. Mike just winces, and as carefully as he can, he positions his arms underneath Will’s legs and his back, lifting him up off the couch. It’s a bit of a struggle—since even now, Mike does not have much upper body strength—but luckily, their room is small and Will’s bed isn’t too far away.
After setting Will down on the bed, Mike looks around the room. Alright, cool, he’s still got a couple water bottles from the case his mom had bought him over break, so he doesn’t have to go find a water fountain. Now, all he needs to do is find the first aid kid and thermometer underneath his bed, so Mike quickly kneels on the ground, looking around for the little kit until—
There. There it is.
With a satisfied smile, Mike grabs the first aid kit and pulls it out from under the bed, quickly opening it up and digging through it until he finds the thermometer somewhere near the bottom. Then, he stands back up and walks the short distance back to Will’s bed, kneeling down next to him.
“Hey, Will,” Mike says softly. “I need to check your temperature, okay?”
Mike gets a quiet groan in response, but Will opens his mouth, tilting his head slightly towards Mike. “It’s… gonna tell you ‘m warm,” Will mumbles, a bit of a pout on his face. “...Fever. Room’s… hot.”
In spite of it all, Mike can’t help but smile, and he places the thermometer into Will’s mouth. “Definitely a fever,” he agrees, glancing at his watch. “You probably caught the same bug that El had.”
Will makes another little muffled sound of agreement, and he leans close to Mike, looking up at him tiredly. Somehow, he looks even worse than he did just a few minutes ago. Truthfully, it’s been a while since Mike has really been around anyone who’s sick—he tries to avoid any of his friends who have caught the freshman flu or any of its other variants—so he could just be paranoid… But God, Will does not look good.
It’s… concerning, to say the least.
After a minute or so passes by, Mike gently takes the thermometer out of his boyfriend’s mouth, checking it carefully.
The little glass thermometer reads 95°F, right on the dot.
…
Wait… what?
Mike blinks, lowering the thermometer and staring at Will for several moments. That… that doesn’t make any sense whatsoever. Will clearly has a fever, and he said himself that he’s burning up and that it’s too warm in the room. There’s absolutely no reason that Will’s temperature should be this far below normal.
Unless…
No.
No, that’s… no, that’s not possible. There’s no way. It’s not possible, because El destroyed the Upside Down over a year ago, and Henry has been dead for over a year now, and they ended this. The war ended. All of them are safe now. Will is safe now.
He likes it cold, Will’s voice, quiet and young, echoes in Mike’s mind, and Mike clenches his hands so tightly around the thermometer that he’s terrified it might break.
It shouldn’t be possible… It shouldn’t.
But what if it is?
What if it is possible? Because the thing is… they’ve thought they’ve won before. They’ve thought they’ve ended this before. El killed the demogorgon. She closed the gate. They defeated the Mind Flayer. And yet, it all came back. Who’s to say that they haven’t been living in some false, bastardized version of hope for the last year? Who’s to say that somehow, the Upside Down didn’t reform? Who’s to say that this isn’t starting again—starting right here, right now with Will again?
Mike takes a shuddered breath, and he sets the thermometer down on the bed, reaching over and cupping Will’s face gently. “Will,” he whispers, and his voice comes out shakier than he means it to. “Hey, hey… Will… can you look at me?”
It takes a moment—a painfully long and terrifying moment. And somehow, in that moment, Mike feels his mind go through a hundred different worst case scenarios. It’s as if all the worst memories from their years spent fighting the Upside Down come rushing to the surface, like a tidal wave ready to drag them back under again. And God, Mike feels like such an idiot for letting his guard down, for thinking that all of this was actually over, for being lulled into a sense of false security, and for not being more aware.
They’ve been through this before, and still, Mike didn’t see any of the signs. And if… if Will is being targeted by something from the Upside Down again and Mike just let it slip by, completely unnoticed, then… he’s never going to be able to forgive himself.
It takes a moment before Will opens his eyes again, and he looks directly at Mike. “Huh?” he whispers, and Mike just swallows the lump in his throat.
“Will,” Mike whispers back. His heart pounds inside his chest, and it feels difficult to breathe. “Is… is this what I think it is? Are you…”
His voice trails off. His chest feels tight—gripped with the sense of an ever-growing panic and terror. “Do you… do you think this is the Upside Down?” Mike finally manages to say, and he watches as Will’s eyes go wide. “Can you… can you feel it? Do you feel anything different, or-or can you sense that connection at all?”
It gets eerily quiet in their bedroom as neither one of them says a word. Will, for what looks like the first time, seems to consider this, and he closes his eyes, the look on his face just as scared as Mike feels. Neither one of them wants to go through this again. Mike doesn’t want to watch Will go through this again.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Will opens his eyes again. He still looks exhausted but a little less scared now, and he shakes his head. “No,” he whispers. Then, with a little more confidence now, he repeats, “No… no, it’s not… it’s not the Upside Down… it’s not… I can’t… I can’t feel it, so I don’t think…”
Will’s voice trails off, and he leans into Mike’s touch, blinking rapidly again. Tears start to form in his eyes, and Mike feels his heart drop to the bottom of his stomach once more. “It… it’s not,” Will reassures shakily, his voice cracking, “but… but I-I don’t know what’s wrong… I-I’m not… I don’t… I don’t feel good, Mike, and it-it’s so hot in here, and-and I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but… but I’m scared… I’m scared, Mike, and I-I… I—”
Panic continues to build in Will’s voice as he speaks, until finally, Mike shushes him, gently brushing his hair away from his face. “Hey, hey, just breathe, okay,” Mike whispers, even though he feels like he can’t breathe, and honestly, he feels terrified as well.
Seeing Will like this… it’s the most terrifying thing in the world, and even despite Will’s reassurances that he can’t feel his Upside Down connection, Mike still feels like he’s being dragged right back to all their worst memories together.
But right now, Mike has to be here for Will. Will is the one who is sick and whose body is reacting in a way that neither of them fully understands. Will needs Mike right now… He needs Mike to just focus and to be here for him and remind him that things are going to be okay. Mike has to be here for Will.
So despite the fact that Mike feels like he’s going to throw up, he forces a smile and thumbs a few stray tears away from Will’s face. “Just breathe, Will,” he says softly. “Okay? Just… just breathe. You… you’re going to be okay. It’s all going to be okay.”
He takes another deep breath and forces another smile. There’s no time for panicking. No time for thinking about memories like Will’s freezing cold home, or the sight of Will seizing on the ground on a field, or the sounds of Will’s screams echoing through the sterile white hallways of Hawkins Lab. Mike can’t focus on that right now. He just has to focus on Will.
“I’m gonna be here with you the entire time, alright?” Mike promises gently. “I’m gonna go call your mom to let her know what’s going on, and… and she’s gonna help us figure this out. And you’re going to be okay, Will; I promise… you’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out together, like we always do, okay?”
Though there’s still a scared look on Will’s face, he nods slightly, and he manages to reach up, putting one of his hands on top of Mike’s own. “Okay,” he whispers, never once taking his eyes off Mike. “...Okay.”
In spite of everything, Mike manages a small smile. He takes Will’s hand in his own, and he leans forward, gently pressing kiss against Will’s forehead. “I love you,” he murmurs. “You’re gonna be okay… I promise.”
“Love you too,” Will whispers back, squeezing Mike’s hand as tight as he can. “And… thank you, Mike.”
“Of course.” Mike nods, and though his heart is still pounding and his mind is still racing, he squeezes Will’s hand back gently. “I’ve got you. No matter what. I’m here, Will… I’m here.”
—
“And I hate to make this all about me, but who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do if there’s no you?”
—
It takes Joyce Byers three hours and four minutes to make it from her home in Carmel, Indiana to Mike and Will’s dorm in Chicago, Illinois.
(Not that Mike has been staring at his watch religiously since he hung up the phone with his boyfriend’s mother. No, he definitely hasn’t been doing that.)
Mike doesn’t know how she manages it, except for the fact that Mike knows there is literally nothing in the world that could stop Joyce Byers from reaching her children. Joyce is the type of mom who would move heaven and earth just to make sure that her kids are alright, and she’d make it look easy too.
And so, when Mike calls her—barely able to hold back his tears and definitely unable to keep his voice from shaking—to explain that something is wrong with Will and that he doesn’t know what to do, it comes as no surprise that Joyce drops everything and tells Mike that she’ll be there as soon as possible.
In the meantime, she tells to try and do whatever he can to stabilize Will’s body temperature—whatever the hell that entails. And yeah, it does not work, because the moment Mike starts to gently tell Will that he should try and put a shirt on and that they need to get his body temperature up, Will gets a bit panicked and terrified, and he starts rambling something vaguely incoherent about how warm he is and how their room feels like a furnace and how he feels completely miserable and—
And… it reminds Mike a lot of the year when the Mind Flayer (or… Vecna, actually) possessed Will.
And that’s absolutely terrifying.
The two of them manage to compromise—Mike gets Will to slip a shirt on, but Will gets Mike to put a freezing cold rag on his forehead. Both are temporary fixes though and by no means do they really help the problem at hand.
So, Mike is stuck between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, Will’s body temperature is getting dangerously low, and Mike can’t let him get any colder. But on the other hand, Will seems absolutely miserable—flushed and sweaty and barely even able to rest because of how hot he feels. There’s no good solution here, and so, the best Mike can do for right now is sit next to Will’s bed and try to watch over him while the two of them wait for his mom to arrive.
(In the meantime, Mike also bundles up because it’s absolutely freezing in their dorm room. Will, with his kicked puppy dog eyes, manages to convince Mike to open up the window about thirty or forty minutes before his mom finally makes it to Chicago. The frigid January air blows into their room, and fortunately, it provides Will a little bit of relief.
Unfortunately, it makes Mike really, really regret going to college in Chicago. Even bundled up in his thickest sweater, Mike is freezing. It’s fine though. As long as Will is comfortable, Mike can brave the cold.)
Still, it becomes just a little bit difficult to hide how cold Mike is, and somewhere in those few hours waiting for Joyce, his teeth start chattering. The wind blows into their room, sending a chill down Mike’s spine, and he takes Will’s hand again, intertwining their fingers. For once, between the two of them, Will’s hands are warmer than Mike’s are, and in spite of his clear exhaustion, Will manages a tiny smile.
“You’re cold,” he murmurs.
Mike just laughs quietly, and he presses his free hand against Will’s warm cheek. “Just a little,” he agrees. “It’s not every day that you’re the warm one, and I’m the cold one, huh?”
Will’s quirk up into another smile, and he leans into Mike’s touch, his eyes fluttering open and closed. Despite the fact that it’s been a few hours now and Mike has been religiously making sure Will is drinking water, he really hasn’t gotten any better. If anything, Will seems to have gotten worse, with his words becoming more slurred and his breathing becoming even more shallow and his inability to keep his eyes open for more than a few moments.
He can’t sleep—or at least that’s what he’d told Mike maybe half an hour ago. It’s still just too warm in the room, so instead, the two of them just sit there together in quiet, absolutely dreadful silence and wait for Will’s mom to arrive.
Realistically, Mike should probably check Will’s temperature again, just to make sure it hasn’t dropped anymore, but… if he’s being honest, he’s kind of terrified to. Mike doesn’t really know what to expect or what to do anymore. He’s done everything that he can think of to help Will right now, but nothing’s working.
Nothing’s working, and there’s a lump in the back of Mike’s throat that just won’t go away. His hands are shaking, but it’s not from the cold. No, it’s because Mike is terrified—absolutely, completely terrified.
He hasn’t felt this scared in months. Not even the nightmares that he gets on occasion have been enough to cause a fear this intense to grow in his heart, and yet, the fear feels so, horribly familiar. It’s like an old friend—or rather, an old enemy—who has snuck up on him and pulled him right back under, drowning him in all the distinct feelings and memories that have accumulated over years of being exposed to the Upside Down’s horrors.
And now, in the silence of his and Will’s freshman dorm room, Mike suddenly feels like he’s reliving some of the worst memories of his entire life all over again.
He’s twelve years old again.
The freezing cold wind that blows into their dorm room takes him back to a moment, huddled behind a firetruck parked at Sattler Quarry, where he’d watched the police officers and firefighters pull a body—Will’s body out of the icy cold waters. The wind blows, and it’s cruel and biting, causing tears to prick Mike’s eyes. He’s twelve years old again, biking as fast as he can as sobs bubble up in his throat and make it difficult to breathe on his ride home. Mike’s twelve years old, and he’s just lost his first friend—his best friend.
He’s thirteen years old again.
Will makes a muffled whimpering sound—low and clearly uncomfortable—and he shifts closer to Mike, obviously in pain. There are tears in his eyes, and he looks to Mike for any comfort that Mike has to offer. Will cries, and suddenly, Mike is thirteen years old again, his chest heaving as he runs, runs, runs after the doctors and after Mrs. Byers and after Bob and after Will, who is on the hospital gurney and screaming and crying because he’s in so much pain. Mike’s thirteen years old again, and he’s going to lose his best friend in the entire world.
He’s sixteen years old again.
Mike can’t stop shivering, because it’s freezing cold in their dorm room, and it has to be to keep Will as comfortable as he can be. The temperature drops and drops and drops, because it’s Chicago, and of course, it’s going to be this cold. But the cold cuts through the warmth of Mike’s sweater, and Mike is sixteen years old again. His hometown has been transformed into some sort of apocalyptic wasteland, and the sun rarely comes out anymore. Will is closer to Mike than he has been in years, lying on an air mattress on the floor of Mike’s childhood room, and nearly every night, he wakes up with nightmares caused by his ever-growing connection to Henry. Mike is sixteen years old, he’s terrified, and in the coldest nights of this wasteland that’s become his life, all he can do is try and hold his best friend close.
Mike is eighteen years old now—nineteen in a few more months—and he’s terrified.
He doesn’t know what they’re going to do. Something is wrong with Will, and Mike is no fool. He’s had enough brushes with the supernatural to know that this can’t just be a normal sickness. People’s bodies don’t react like this when they’re sick. Whatever is happening to Will… maybe it’s not directly involved with the Upside Down—a fact of which Mike still isn’t wholly convinced—but he gets the feeling that it might indirectly relate to the Upside Down.
They’ve been warned on multiple occasions by Owens and the network of other doctors who are privy to the secret of the Upside Down to watch for unusual symptoms. Owens thinks that the long-term exposure to the Upside Down’s toxic environment might come back to haunt them one day. Hopefully, it won’t be anything major, since it’s not like they were in the Upside Down itself—just the Hawkins/Upside Down wasteland—but he still warns them to be mindful of anything in their bodies that might seem out of the ordinary.
What’s happening to Will? Yeah, that feels pretty damn out of the ordinary to Mike.
It’s probably too early to jump to any conclusions, but Mike just… he has a bad feeling about this.
And God, he’s tired. That doesn’t feel fair to say, because Mike isn’t the one suffering here. Mike isn’t sick. Mike doesn’t feel like he’s burning up from the inside out. Will is the one who is hurting.
But Mike has to watch him, and he’s completely useless. He’s useless to do anything but sit and watch as Will lies in bed, quiet and miserable and holding onto Mike’s hand like it’s a lifeline. It’s the worst feeling in the world, and it just keeps happening. This type of shit has been happening since they were twelve years old, and God, Mike just wants it to be over.
Seeing Will hurting like this and not knowing how to fix it? Yeah. It’s Mike’s worst nightmare.
Finally, after a few hours (three hours and four minutes, to be exact), someone knocks on the door, and Mike looks up, completely relieved. It’s Joyce. It has to be Joyce.
“Come in!” Mike calls, because he’s fairly certain he left the door unlocked and he really doesn’t want to leave Will’s side.
Not a moment later, the door creaks open, and sure enough, Joyce steps inside, bundled up in her puffy winter coat and a colorful red beanie with a little pom-pom on the top. Her eyes scan the room quickly, before finally landing on Will and Mike, and her face falls.
In an instant, Joyce is at Will’s side, shedding her coat and hat and kneeling down beside Mike. “Oh, Will, baby,” she whispers, reaching out and pressing the back of her hand against Will’s forehead. The concern on her face grows, and she bites down on her lip, never once taking her eyes off Will.
“Mom?” Will whispers back. Mike can tell it’s a bit of a struggle for him to open his eyes, but somehow, he manages to do it and to look over at his mom in exhaustion.
As the two of them meet eyes, Joyce gives him a watery smile. “I’m here, baby,” she reassures, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss against his forehead. “I’m here. You’re okay… It’s gonna be okay.”
Will nods ever so slightly, and his eyes flicker back to Mike. Likewise, Joyce glances up at him, this time offering Mike a warm smile, and Mike lifts his free hand in a tiny wave.
“Hi, Joyce,” he whispers. “Thanks for… for coming so quickly. I’m glad you’re here.”
If Joyce notices the tremble in Mike’s voice, she doesn’t say anything about it. “Of course, Mike,” she says, her voice soft and gentle. Just her mere presence with the two of them is a comfort, and though the panic lingers in Mike’s heart, it becomes a little bit more manageable.
“Will, can you tell me what’s going on, baby?” Joyce asks, and she reaches up, brushing back Will’s bangs from his forehead. The frown on her face deepens, but she forces it away, instead offering Will a tight smile. “Mike said that… that you felt like you were burning up? That you weren’t feeling good?”
“Y-yeah,” Will mumbles. He grips Mike’s hand and breathes slowly, as if it’s taking up a lot of energy even just to have this conversation. “It’s… hot… really hot. And I… I don’t… don’t feel… good.”
For a moment, Joyce is quiet. She glances up at Mike, meeting his gaze, and Mike shrugs slightly, as if to say, See? I told you so.
“Okay,” Joyce says softly, looking back down at Will. “Okay, baby… And you… you don’t think it’s the Upside Down? That’s what… well, that’s what Mike said.”
Another trembling breath. Will shakes his head. His eyes are watery. “N-no,” he whispers. “But… but I’m not… I don’t… M-Mom… I don’t… I don’t know what’s wrong… It’s so hot, a-and I-I’m… I’m burning up, and it-it’s like when… w-when… when… you…”
“When we burned the Mind Flayer out of you?” Joyce asks, her voice impossibly soft. There are tears in her eyes too, and when Will nods, Mike can’t help but flinch.
He’s only heard the stories of that ordeal, and maybe that’s a good thing. Seeing the scar on Will’s side—the one that Nancy had burned into him to free him from the Mind Flayer’s control—is bad enough. Hearing Will talk about the experience is bad enough. All of it is enough to make Mike feel sick to his stomach.
Joyce takes a deep breath. Like Mike, this entire ordeal is clearly weighing on her, but Joyce is one of the strongest people Mike knows. She’ll do anything for Will—even if it means setting aside her own fears and anxieties for the time being.
“Will, honey, it’s going to be okay,” she promises, and she cups Will’s face, offering him a reassuring, warm smile. “We’ll figure this out, okay? Right now… we’re gonna try to get your body temp regulated, and we’ll get you some water and some medicine, so you can try to get some rest. Then, tomorrow, if you’re still not feeling good, I’ll give Dr. Owens a call, and we’ll see if we can figure out what’s going on. Does that sound good?”
Will still looks scared, and God, he looks so young like this. As much as Mike feels like he’s been dragged back into the terrifying past, he can’t imagine how Will must feel right now. It breaks Mike’s heart, and it makes him feel absolutely sick.
“That… that sounds good,” Will whispers back, and he rests his head on his mom’s hand, closing his eyes.
Silence settles over the three of them, and Mike swallows the ever-growing lump in his throat. Okay. He has to find a way to be useful right now. He has to find a way to help Will in whatever way he can. Will needs him right now.
“I, um… I got the Tylenol out,” Mike says quietly, and Joyce looks up, meeting his eyes. “I wasn’t sure if I should have him take any, but um, if you think he should, I-I can go get some more water from the fountain down the hall… I-I’ve been trying to get him to drink some water, and-and I kept the window open so he’d be more comfortable, but I-I can close it if you think that’d be best! I wasn’t really sure, because I know he feels warm, but his body temperature is cold, so I-I’m sorry, I just didn’t know—”
“Mike,” Joyce interrupts, her voice soft but still firm. She reaches out, placing her hand on Mike’s back reassuringly, and Mike just flinches, closing his mouth and giving her his full attention. “Honey, take a second and just breathe, okay? There’s no need to apologize. You did good. You did good.”
The words are a comfort, and Mike exhales the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. His heart is still pounding inside his chest, and that feeling of panic still has a tight grip on him… but he feels like he can breathe a little easier.
He’s trying. He really, really is trying to help Will, because it’s Will, and Mike loves him. And it’s all just really terrifying, and Mike honestly feels like a little kid, so… so having Joyce here helps.
“Okay,” Mike says quietly, and he manages a tiny smile. “I, um… I just want to help, however I can.”
“I know, honey,” Joyce says with a soft smile of her own. “And you’re doing a great job, just like you always do. For right now… yeah, how about you go fill up those water bottles, and I’ll get Will to take some medicine. Does that sound good?”
“Yeah,” Mike says, a bit breathless. Instinctively, he squeezes Will’s hand, and though his eyes are closed and he’s not talking, Will squeezes his hand weakly in return. He’s still awake, then, but just trying to rest. “I can do that.”
Joyce nods, still smiling that warm, familiar, and comforting smile at him. It must be a Byers thing, Mike thinks, to be able to just smile at him and make him feel more at ease.
Things are going to be okay. Joyce is here now, and Mike will do his best to help, and Will is going to be okay. Will is going to be okay. Will is going to be okay.
…
Will has to be okay.
He has to.
Because honestly… Mike doesn’t know what he’s going to do if Will doesn’t end up being okay.
That’s just… it’s not something that Mike can think about. He won’t think about that. He can’t think about that. Will is going to be fine, and they’ll figure all of this out.
So, with a shuddered breath, Mike squeezes his boyfriend’s hand again, and he blinks back the tears in his eyes, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to Will’s forehead. He’s all too aware of the fact that Joyce is right there and watching his every move, but… Mike doesn’t mind. Joyce has been nothing but supportive of their relationship, so Mike feels comfortable showing his love for Will around her.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” he whispers, gently brushing some of Will’s hair away. “I’m just gonna go get you some more water.”
A beat passes, but then Will opens his eyes, tiredly looking at Mike. “Okay,” he whispers back. Then: “Love… you.”
In spite of everything, Mike just smiles, and he presses another kiss against Will’s forehead, letting his lips linger there for a few moments longer. Hot, sticky tears sting his eyes, and Mike doesn’t bother wiping them away. Instead, he just closes his eyes and lets himself have this moment with Will.
“Love you too,” Mike finally says, his own voice soft. The tiniest of smiles forms on Will’s face; then, he closes his eyes again, leaning back onto his pillow.
Mike takes a deep breath, and he stands up, wiping his eyes onto his sleeve and clearing his throat. “I’ll be right back,” he says quietly. The words are directed to both Will and Joyce, though neither of them say anything as Mike gathers up a couple empty water bottles in his arms and walks towards the door.
He already has one foot out the door when he hears Joyce call, “Mike?”
Mike stops, turning back around and looking at his boyfriend’s mom in confusion. “Yeah?”
There’s a watery smile on Joyce’s face now, and for a brief moment, she glances down at Will, then back up at Mike. “Thank you,” she whispers.
Mike’s brow furrows in confusion. “For… what?”
The smile on Joyce’s face grows even more fond. Again, she looks down at Will, who seems like he might actually be falling asleep now; then, she looks back up at Mike, meeting his eyes. “For loving my boy,” she says softly, and Mike feels his cheeks go warm in a mixture of pride and a little bit of embarrassment.
She says these words almost as if they’re something difficult—as if Mike is doing her and doing Will some sort of favor by loving Will. And God, Mike knows that this can’t be farther from the truth.
Because loving Will Byers?
It’s the easiest thing in the world.
And it’s the best thing Mike has ever done.
So, Mike just smiles back, and he glances back and forth between his sick boyfriend and his boyfriend’s mother. There’s a fluttery feeling inside Mike’s heart as he whispers back, “It’s Will… He makes it easy.”
A quiet laugh escapes Joyce’s lips, and she glances down at her son, leaning over and kissing his forehead. “He does,” she agrees. “But he’s lucky to have you, Mike. I… I’m glad it’s you that Will gets to love.”
That fluttery, warm feeling in Mike’s heart only grows, and he looks back over at Will, unable to stop himself from smiling. “Yeah,” Mike says softly, “I am too.”