Chapter Text
El hadn’t told him Mike had presented. Will feels chills shoot up his spine as he catches sight of Mike in the airport, clutching his painting as he smells the wave of alpha scent coming from Mike.
It’s slightly salty, but not in an unpleasant way. In fact, the scent almost reminds Will of the California ocean, except it’s accompanied by a hint of a dark caramel.
Omegas are the ones meant to smell sweet, Will knows, even though Will’s own green grass scent doesn’t match that stereotype. Will thinks of Lonnie’s old scent, which had been bitter and repulsive even to his younger self. While most kids benefitted from being able to smell their alpha or omega parent’s scent, Will had always been disgusted by his father. Maybe that had added to Lonnie’s dislike of his youngest son.
Mike’s scent is almost the opposite of Lonnie’s, which is doing nothing to help quash Will’s feelings for him. Maybe if his friend had smelled horrible, like most alphas do, Will might be able to start getting over it. Alas, he’s not that lucky.
Mike doesn’t hug Will properly when they greet each other. Will tries not to dwell too much on whether it’s because Mike hates Will’s scent.
“Friends? What friends?” Will interrupts El as they start leaving the airport.
“You know. Stacy and Angela.”
“Angela?” Will mutters. He’s uneasy, so uneasy that he knows it’s bleeding into his scent from the way that Mike glances at him briefly. Will just looks away, crushing his painting between his hands and following them outside without bringing it up again.
Neither of them had made friends in Lenora. Will was at least acquaintances with the people he sat with in the art room every lunch to draw or paint. But El had it worse, bullied and teased relentlessly with that gaggle of popular assholes headed by Angela. To pretend like the two of them are friends…
Will shoves it from his mind, trying in vain to even out his scent.
“I want today to be about me and you.” El tells Mike. Will closes his eyes against the wave of bitterness and sorrow that washes over him at those words. It’s not like he’d told El what today is; he hadn’t wanted to ruin her excitement about Mike’s arrival or make her re-plan the day. Jonathan had come into Will’s room that morning, surprisingly not stoned, to give him a hug and a gift that Will still hasn’t opened. Joyce had pulled him into a frazzled embrace before he left, mumbling something about the bakery running into mishaps so they’ll have to do cake tomorrow morning. That was it. That was all there was.
Happy fucking birthday, Will.
Will can see the worry in Jonathan’s eyes as Argyle drops them off at the rink, although he’s clearly not worried enough to stick around for once. Will just follows El and Mike blankly into the rink, losing the will as he hear El lie to Mike again.
“Why do you keep lying to Mike?”
“I’m not.” El insists, but she is and the frustration makes Will want to scream.
“You’re not. You’re friends with Angela and Stacy and you come to parties here?”
“I have been to a party.”
“That was for Mom’s work. That’s not what you implied.” When El doesn’t answer, Will just lets out a sigh. “El, I understand how it feels to be picked on, okay? And Mike does too.”
“He doesn’t.”
“We were bullied all throughout middle school, of course he does!” Will leans a little closer to her. “Just- talk to him. He won’t appreciate you lying and I smell too worried for him to ignore this for too long.”
Mike returns before El can respond, but the way she turns all her attention to Mike as he sits back down means Will just falls a little more into hopelessness. He didn’t sign up for this mess.
They leave him behind on the rink. Somehow, Will prefers it. He can handle the conversation that El and Mike share when they get milkshakes, tuning most of it out, because he thinks this is as bad as it will get. When he gets home, he can talk to El properly. And, no matter whether or not she chooses to stop lying, there’s no way Will is gonna keep third-wheeling their little dates.
Of course, things get worse. Will spots a guy holding a camera as Angela pulls El out onto the rink. His stomach sinks.
“Oh no.”
“What?” Mike asks, standing up beside him. And, though he loves his sister, he knows this has gone too far.
“El… she hasn’t been telling you everything.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She’s lying to you, Mike.”
“Bullshit!”
They stop the music, they play El a song and circle her on the rink. Will can hear his ears ringing, frozen to the spot as Mike’s scent flares. The guy playing the music must be able to smell it, because he stops it as soon as Mike approaches. Not like it does El any good.
Though Mike is the one screaming El’s name and following her onto the rink, Will is the one she locks eyes with as she skates away from her boyfriend. Whatever she finds in his gaze just makes her tear up further. Before Will can get his legs into gear and chase after her, she’s gone.
“You should’ve told me she was having trouble.” Mike tells Will, leading him through the building in search of El.
“Well, I didn’t know they were gonna be here, Mike. Plus, she didn’t want me to tell you.”
“I’m her boyfriend, I should know all these things. You’ve had months where you could have told me.”
“It’s not like I knew she was lying to you.” Will glares at him. “You’re her boyfriend. I didn’t expect that from her.”
“Is that why you decided to be a douche all day?”
“I’m not being a douche.”
“I can smell you, Will.” Mike finally stops. When he turns to Will, the omega is instantly hit with a wave of his scent. It’s heady, overwhelmingly good despite the frustration and sadness that’s emanating from Mike. Will has to close his eyes for a moment just to ward it off. “All day. All day you’ve been bitter and unhappy. From the moment I got here.”
“Maybe it’s because my best friend of ten years wouldn’t even hug me when he saw me at the airport.” Will spits, because apparently they’re doing this. Now. At the worst possible time. “Maybe it’s because you barely called me, for half a year, while my sister has a book of letters from you. I didn’t even know you’d presented, Mike. Why wouldn’t you tell me that?”
“You didn’t tell me either!” Mike’s scent is sorrow and it’s anger and and it’s bitterness and all too much at once. “You never told me you’d presented, even though it turns out I was right there in the same room when it happened. And you told fucking Steve Harrington, but you didn’t think to tell me.”
“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t think-”
“And don’t give me that about me not calling when you didn’t call either.” Mike yells, finally yells at him. “You didn’t send letters and in all of El’s, she told me about how you spent all your time at school with- art friends, or something. Have you ever thought maybe I didn’t reach out because I didn’t think my best friend of ten years trusted me enough to tell me he’d presented as an omega? Because I didn’t think you cared enough to talk to me?”
Will stands there dumbfounded for at least a minute, just staring at Mike. Finally he sighs, breaking eye contact. “El exaggerated. With the art friends.”
“Jesus.” Mike sighs. “What a fucking mess.”
“Yeah.”
“Look, there’s clearly a lot here.” Mike says, drooping a little. “Can we just focus on finding El?”
“Okay.”
They don’t talk about it, the fight probably pushed from Mike’s mind the moment he sees El attack Angela with the roller skate. Mike barely looks at Will until that night, too concerned about El.
Mike’s sharing Will’s room, on a mattress on the floor. They get ready for bed in silence, but Mike doesn’t lie down when Will turns the lights off.
“Mike?”
“I-” He exhales shakily, turning towards Will. Will feels his heartbeat pick up as Mike’s fingertips rest gently on his wrist. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been- shitty. And I know today has probably been a lot worse for you than it has for me, but…”
“But?”
“You smell really good.” Mike breathes. “Can I-”
“Oh.” Will blinks into the darkness as he realises what Mike’s asking. Nobody’s ever scented him before, hell, nobody’s even commented on his scent since Steve and Robin witnessed Will’s first heat. He turns his wrist, exposing the gland on the inside. “Yeah, go ahead.”
Mike is gentle as he brings Will’s wrist a few inches up until he’s holding the gland right against his nose and breathing Will’s scent in carefully. Mike barely moves, clearly scared that Will’s going to change his mind, but Will feels the tension bleed out from Mike’s scent, leaving it calm as the ocean on a good night.
In the darkness of his room, it takes Will a little time to register that Mike has offered his own wrist to him. Will places his free hand on it the moment Mike starts to pull away.
“You don’t have to, if you don’t like it.” Mike says quickly. “I just thought-”
“I like your scent, Mike. Of course I do.” Will can’t help but smile at Mike’s concerns. He lets Mike reach up and cup Will’s cheek with his free hand, before Will tilts his head just slightly to rest his nose just above the gland on Mike’s wrist.
“Thank you.” Mike eventually says, pulling his hand away from Will and flopping onto his mattress.
“Goodnight, Mike.”
“Goodnight, Will.”
“You’re packed already?” Will asks Mike as he thumps down onto Will’s bed.
“Yeah, I mean. I never really unpacked.” Mike bites his lip audibly, dropping his bags on the floor. “Thanks, by the way.”
“For what?”
“For waking me up.” Mike says. Will stops in his tracks, shifting a little so he can look over his shoulder at Mike. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you and I shouldn’t have blamed you for not telling me about El. I was being a total self-pitying idiot.”
“I didn’t say it.” Will tells him, but he’s smiling.
“You didn’t have to.”
At that, Will just has to turn away from Mike and his soft eyes and warm smile and the way he’s almost gazing at Will. He must be going crazy.
“I was being a jerk to El though. You were right about that.” Will talks to his chest of drawers, still not able to look at Mike. “I kinda deserved it.”
“No, you didn’t.” Mike slides off the bed and crawls over to sit next to Will. He shifts around, lowering himself until he can look into Will’s eyes. “You didn’t deserve anything.”
One of Mike’s hands moves to rest on Will’s knee. Will thinks his heart has stopped.
“I’ve been going crazy the last year.” Mike confesses, his voice lowering. “Lucas and Dustin and Max… they’re great, but they don’t get it. They don’t get me. Not like you do.”
“Mike…”
“Hawkins isn’t the same without you.” Mike squeezes his knee. “But when you left I just... I guess I just got in my head, started thinking you didn’t need me anymore. Not like you used to. I thought that, if you called me first, it meant I was wrong.”
“But I didn’t.” Will whispers.
“You didn’t. And that’s not your fault! I just- I never second-guessed myself with El, so it was so easy to just focus on her and not on you. But now I feel- like I’ve lost you, or something. And I can’t lose you, Will. Does that make sense?”
Will nods, heart returning in full force to beat in Will’s throat.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen next. But I- I think it’ll be easier if we’re a team. Friends.” Mike hesitates. “Best friends.”
“Cool.” Will breathes, not knowing what else to say. It seems to be enough though, because Mike beams back at him.
“Cool.”
Mike’s anxiety is so palpable as Argyle rants about the danger they’re in that Will doesn’t even protest when Jonathan tells his friend to smoke weed in order to calm himself down. As soon as the body is buried, Will catches Mike’s wrist and leads him up onto the tin roof of one of the cars. The metal is hot under the sun, so Will folds his hands into his lap as he sits.
“Mike? Are you okay?”
“What if he’s right?” Mike’s hands twitch restlessly in his lap as he looks out across the junkyard. “About El? What if she’s going to die?”
“She won’t.” Will tells him, reaching out to grab one of Mike’s hands as they begin to clench in the fabric of his pants. “Seriously, Mike. Argyle is stoned out of his mind.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s wrong.” Mike argues, grabbing onto Will’s hand and squeezing it. “If that guy had lived one more second, we would know where she is. We’d be able to save her. I don’t get why he didn’t just say the number.”
“He was dying, Mike.” Will rubs his thumb along Mike’s wrist, drawing a little of his scent out as he does.
“Can I scent you again?” Mike asks quietly. “I really like doing it.”
“Didn’t Nancy ever scent you, back at home?” Will shifts over towards Mike, wrapping an arm around his friend’s neck and bringing his wrist up towards Mike’s nose. Mike latches onto him almost desperately, dragging his nose slowly along the inside of Will’s wrist.
“She did a couple times. So did Steve, during my first rut.” Mike’s lips brush the skin of Will’s wrist as he speaks. “But they were never as good as-”
“As what?”
“You left a jumper behind.” Mike says. Will’s brows furrow. “The night you presented, you left your jumper behind and I only found out after you’d left. So I just… kept it.”
“So?”
“So, I spent the whole of my first rut buried in that jumper.” Mike huffs out a little nostalgic laugh as he tells Will that. As if he hasn’t just taken Will’s world and spun it on his axis. “Seriously. Nobody smells as good as you, Will.”
“Nobody?”
“Nobody.”
“What if El presented?” Will almost regrets the question as he feels Mike’s scent turn sour again. Will barely thinks before releasing a burst of his own scent meant to calm the alpha down. He feels a small thrill when it works.
“I mean, I’m sure she’d smell nice.” Mike starts. “But. I just can’t imagine anyone smelling better than you.”
“What’s my scent like?”
“It reminds me of the field that Dustin built Cerebro in.” Mike tells him thoughtfully.
“So… rat shit?”
“No!” Mike slaps him, indignant. “Like grass and the wind. A little bit like flowers, but not in an overwhelming way. It’s nice. Most omegas are too sweet for me, but you’re not.”
“Thanks.” Will smiles wide and Mike clearly enjoys the scent of his happiness because he brings Will’s wrist down and rubs his scent into the neckline of his shirt.
“Thank you.” Mike counters. “I’ve been an ass. But you’re still here.”
“I’ll always be here.” Will tells him, moving his arm so that he can pull Mike into a side hug. He feels Mike’s scent curl out of him as he does, the pleased smell wafting around him. Mike gives off so much scent that it’s crazy. Will knows, deep in his heart, that it means he’ll miss Mike even more when he returns to Hawkins.
“Maybe if I’d been able to say that… that thing that I can’t say to her, Eleven would’ve taken me with her.” Mike speculates. “Maybe then things would’ve been different, but… I couldn’t do it. I don’t know why.”
“Sometimes… it’s just scary to open up like that. To say how you really feel.” Will’s heart flutters as Mike presses his nose to Will’s wrist again. “Especially to the people you care about the most. Because what if… what if they don’t like the truth?”
Mike doesn’t reply, interrupted by Argyle and Jonathan. But they get the number. That’s all that matters.
“I’m an ass.” Mike blurts out, about an hour through sitting silently in the van.
“Yes, you are.” Will agrees immediately. “What did you do this time?”
“It was your birthday.” Mike whispers. Will swallows, suddenly unable to look at Mike. “Wasn’t it?”
Will just nods.
“You didn’t even get cake. Or a song.”
He nods again.
“I didn’t give you our gift.”
“Gift?”
“Yeah.” Mike begins to root around in his bag as he speaks. “It’s nothing big, but the Party wanted to get you something and El mentioned you needed a new one, so-“
He breaks off and hands a wrapped, rectangular parcel to Will. He takes it, holding it for a moment before he begins to very slowly unwrap it.
It’s a sketchbook, A5 with a plain black cover. Will remembers reaching the last page of his old one a couple months ago. He’d been meaning to get a new one, but this… well, this is exactly the kind of sketchbook he likes using.
“It’s perfect.” Will breathes.
“Open up the first page.”
Will does, immediately bursting out laughing as he sees what’s on the front page. It’s a drawing of his friends - Lucas, Dustin, Mike and a little blob in the back that could be either Steve or Robin. Each of the figures has been drawn by the person it depicts, with squiggles of green by their feet and a grey mess of straight lines that might be Cerebro towering above the group. Against a blue sky, the words ‘Happy Birthday, Will!’ are written, with signatures from Lucas, Dustin, Mike, Robin, Steve, Eddie and Max.
“You guys are awful artists.” Will says, grinning widely.
“You can tear the picture out if you don’t like it.” Mike bites his lip, pointing at the dotted line that indicates the pages are tearable.
“Are you kidding? I’m keeping this forever.” Will places the sketchbook down on his knees, unable to stop himself from smiling every time he looks down at it.
“You like it?”
“I love it, Mike.” Will points at one of the drawings. “Is this Steve or Robin?”
“No clue. Dustin was the one who got them to sign it.”
“Well, whoever drew it has a bright future as an artist.”
That gets a chuckle out of Mike as he reaches forward to tap at his own pencilled-in figure. “Nah, I think this guy’s gonna go far.”
“You think?”
“Absolutely. The style is… unmatched.”
“Sure.” Will smiles fondly at Mike. He looks down at the drawing, thinking of the painting he’s kept rolled up in his bag and the way that Mike talks about El not needing him anymore. “You know, I actually have a piece of art for you, too.”
“Really?” Mike sits up, excitement bleeding into his scent. “Can I see?”
“Don’t get too excited. It wasn’t my idea.” Will swallows. “El- El commissioned it. Asked me to paint it for you.”
“Oh.”
Will pulls it out, handing the roll over to Mike. His friend unfurls it, lighting up at the sight of the painting.
“Woah, Will. This is amazing!”
“Really?” Will feels his scent bloom at the praise. Despite everything, despite what he’s about to say, Mike likes Will’s work. That will always mean the world.
“Of course.” Mike smooths his hand over the three-headed dragon, before he rests his fingers beside the little black-haired figure. “Is this the party?”
“Yeah. From our last campaign.”
“Why’d El commission it?” Mike asks, frowning. Will hopes he doesn’t question the fact that El isn’t even in the picture.
“Look.” Will leans over to tap painted Mike’s face. “That’s you.”
“Obviously.”
“Shut up, I’m trying to deliver a message.” The corner of Will’s mouth ticks up into a smile as Mike leans back.
“Sorry, sorry.”
“That’s you. And see how you’re leading us here?” He catches Mike nodding. “You’re guiding the whole party, inspiring us. That’s what you do.”
“Right.”
“And see, your coat of arms?” Will moves his fingers to point at the shield. “It’s a heart. And I know it’s sorta on the nose, but that’s what holds our party together. Heart. We’d all fall apart without it.”
Mike has turned now, is looking at Will with something like wonder in his eyes. Good. That’s what he’s trying to give him, even if Mike thinks this speech is coming from El instead of Will.
“And that’s you, Mike.” Will swallows. He can’t meet Mike’s eyes. “El would fall apart without you.”
I would fall apart without you.
“These past few months, she’s been so lost without you.”
Will catches Jonathan looking at him through the rear-view mirror.
“It’s just that… she’s so different from other people.” Will can feel his voice faltering. “And when you’re different, sometimes…”
He bites his lip and sighs, finally looking up at Mike. Trying to make him understand. Trying to make him happy, because that’s all he wants. To see Mike happy. That’s what love is, really.
Love. God.
“Sometimes you feel like a mistake.” Mike can probably see the tears in his eyes. He doesn’t question them, thankfully. “But you make her feel like she’s not a mistake at all. Like she’s better for being different. And that gives her the courage to fight on.”
He’s sure El feels all this about Mike. He’s sure his sister loves him the way Will does - how could she not? How could she not look into Mike’s dark brown eyes and feel like giving him the world?
“If she was cold or indifferent or if it feels like she was pushing you away, it’s probably because she’s scared of losing you. Like you’re scared of losing her.”
Mike’s hand crawls along the middle seat, brushing against the fabric covering Will’s thigh. He ignores it, keeps talking.
“And if she were gonna lose you, I think she’d just want to get it over with quick, like ripping off a Band-Aid. She wouldn’t want to drag it out.”
Mike’s hand settles on Will’s knee.
“She needs you, Mike.”
I need you.
“And she always will.”
“Yeah?” Mike asks, in that hopeful tone that breaks Will’s heart.
“Yeah.” Will breathes. It only takes a second for Mike to lean forward and tug Will into a hug. He can definitely smell the sadness on Will, even through the weed smell that’s a feature of Argyle’s van. There’s something melancholic on Mike as well, which Will breathes in slowly as he presses his face into Mike’s shoulder and tries not to cry.
“Thank you.” Mike says, once he’s pulled away. “And- I don’t care if El commissioned it. This painting is gorgeous, Will. I didn’t think it was possible, but you’ve somehow got even better at art.”
“Thanks.” Will chokes out. Then he has to turn away, has to pretend he’s watching the road instead of letting silent tears trickle down his cheeks. Jonathan has noticed, he can tell. But his brother doesn’t say anything. Nobody does.
Somehow that makes it twenty times worse.
They find El. He’s the first to go over to her when they spot her in the desert, touching her shoulder and pulling her into a hug. She sobs, staining blood into his shirt as she presses her nose into his shoulder.
“You’re here.” She whispers.
“Yeah.” Will nods, hoping she can feel the movement. “We all are.”
“Thank you, Will.”
Then he steps back and watches El embrace Mike, then Jonathan. Relief rolls off him and Mike in waves, mingling together into something that smells much nicer than Will wants to think about.
Then they all get into the van and drive away from the fire burning in the desert sand.
Jonathan hugs Will in the back of the pizza place while they stir salt into the dough freezer. Will melts into him, crying for the second time that day as his brother hugs him like they used to. It’s been nice to get close to El in the past year, but Will has to admit he’s missed being close to Jonathan.
El gets into the bath. They turn the radio on and she puts Mike’s silly makeshift blindfold over her eyes. The lights start to flicker as she lies down. El talks them through what she sees as she enters Max’s mind. The lights start flickering, and then they know. They know that she’s fighting him. But it’s only when she starts jolting and spluttering that they feel something is really going wrong.
Mike grabs her hand, beginning to shout for her to wake up. They lift her out of the tank, clearing the metal table nearby and setting her down onto it.
“Talk to her, Mike.” Will rests a hand on his shoulder. “You’re the heart, remember?”
Mike starts talking, but his voice falters when he’s only a couple words in.
“I can’t.” Mike says, turning to Will and speaking in a thankfully low voice. “I can’t say it.”
“You can, Mike, I believe-“
“No, Will. I can’t say it because it isn't true. And she knows it and I know it too.” Mike looks at Will then, almost begging him to understand. “We’ve both been lying. We’ve been trying to pretend we’re more than we actually are. But do you know what El has never lied about to me?”
“What?”
“You.” As he talks, he places El’s hand in Will’s. “I’m not her heart. I don’t know how long ago she commissioned that painting, but- what she said isn’t true anymore.”
“What do you want me to-“
“You’re her brother, Will. You talk to her.”
And then Mike’s hand has left El’s and his arm is wrapping around Will’s waist and he’s pressed along Will’s back like a big distraction.
“El.” Will says, his train of thought stopped by the long nose that presses into the side of his neck and takes a slow breath. “El. It’s me. It’s Will. You have to come back.”
He can’t think for a moment, too caught up in the fear and the worry and Mike right fucking behind him, but then Mike’s scent curls around Will, all sweet and protective, and he finally knows what to say.
“El, you have to come back because I haven’t shown you how to draw hands yet.” Will says, feeling Mike smile against his neck. “And Mom promised to teach us both how to sew, but I know that won’t be any fun if you’re not there.”
There’s a confidence building, a certainty that somehow, Will is saying the right words to help her.
“You have to come back so I can paint you, like you’ve wanted me to for ages now. You have to come back because we met Suzie - you know, Dustin’s girlfriend - and we haven’t gotten to tell you about it yet. You have to come back so we can play D&D with you again, because we only ever did one campaign with you in it, even though we all had so much fun playing. You have to come back so that I can learn to braid hair. You promised to teach me. And don’t worry, we can use Mike’s until yours grows back.”
“Hey!” Mike says. Will thinks he sees El smile, just a little.
Will closes his eyes, thinking of the last time he spoke to her one on one before she’d gotten arrested. Of biting words at the rink and eye contact that made El sob harder.
“You have to come back so I can apologise for getting annoyed when I found out you were lying. Because I don’t want you to think I’m mad at you. I’m not.” Mike’s hands tighten around his waist. “I get why you lied, I understand why you did it. I guess I- I was just hurt that you didn’t come to me to properly talk about it. And I was mad at myself for never standing up for you in the way I should have.”
There’s a flicker of something in El, a shift. Her struggling seems to subside, just a little.
“Keep going.” Mike whispers. He’s still clinging to Will like he’s a lifeline.
“When you come back, I’ll teach you how to paint in watercolour. We’ll have as many Eggos as you want and we can steal Jonathan’s records while he’s too high to notice.” Will swallows, moving his free hand to cover one of Mike’s. “When you come back, I’ll show you that painting. The one that I never let anyone see, the one I’ve been working on since the new year. You’ll probably laugh when you see what it’s about, but-“ Will hears his voice break. “I trust you. And I love you, El. You’re my sister. Please. You have to keep fighting. You have to come back to us.”
Her struggling subsides, but the lights above them go crazy and Will smiles.
“I think that’s it.” Mike whispers. “I think she’s fighting.”
“That’s it, El.” Will squeezes her hand. “Fight.”