Chapter Text
Will didn’t mean to lie to everyone. Honest. He was simply withholding the truth. Technically, that was different. Right?
The thing is, he wasn’t sure what was happening at first. The first time, Henry visited him in his dreams. He was so sure it had simply been a nightmare caused by PTSD from his trauma, like Doctor Owens had explained to him oh so long ago. There was so much from his week in the Upside down that he didn’t remember. He just thought his brain was trying to work through things. Afterall, he’s no stranger to nightmares, and ever since he’s been back in Hawkins, they’ve just gotten worse.
At least he’s learned how to suffer in silence so as not to wake Jonathan in their shared space in the Wheeler basement. Small mercies.
They started off small. Henry chasing him. Henry taunting him about his feelings and his weakness. Will’s been treated like he’s breakable his whole life, and he’s heard all of these taunts before. How was he supposed to know this was real when it so easily could’ve just come from inside himself?
He didn’t really start to question it until the dreams changed. He may be good at hiding, but no one can hide from their demons forever.
The first time Henry finally caught him, he strung him up with vines and looked at Will like he was something precious. He had never felt more like prey being caught by a hunter than in that moment. He remembers gulping. He remembers shaking and being too scared to speak. To even move.
Henry hadn’t said anything.
He’d just looked at Will.
Just looked.
That was all.
So why did he feel like this?
He woke up gasping for air. He hadn’t had a panic attack in a while, and he had forgotten how awful they were. It felt like he was going to die. Right there on Mike’s old mattress in the Wheeler basement.
All things considered, it wasn’t such a bad place to go. This had always been his safe space. Mike had always been his safe space. Until Lenora.
Will shook his head. It wouldn’t do him any good to think of these things now. Instead, he dug his fingernails into his palms until the pain allowed him to breathe.
The first few inhales were painful, like coming up for air after being underwater for too long. Was this what it was like to drown? He’d been drowning one way or another for his entire life.
He didn’t go back to sleep once he calmed down. He didn’t even try. It was almost morning anyway. Soon it would be time for breakfast and then school. He did, however, pretend to be asleep when Jonathan finally crept back downstairs from Nancy’s room. He didn’t feel like answering questions. He didn’t want to worry his brother. He didn’t want to be looked at with that look of guilt and sympathy that everyone gave him when he had an episode.
It was just a silly nightmare. It was nothing he couldn’t handle.
In the coming days, he would come to realize just how wrong he was.
The next week was more of the same. Him running. Henry catching him. Waking up gasping for air. Over and over again until it became a twisted sort of routine.
On the nights Henry did catch him, he would stare at Will with that same sickening look. The one that was almost fond. Almost loving. Almost.
He always appeared to Will in his human form as if this would make Will forget. As if this would make Will trust him.
The first time Henry stroked his cheek with the back of his fingers, Will had barely made it to the bathroom in the basement before he was throwing up Mrs. Wheeler’s pot roast into the toilet. He threw up until there was nothing left, and then he dry heaved for so long he was worried it would never stop.
At least the basement was far away from where everyone else slept. The only thing that would make this worse would be if someone heard him. He would never live it down if Jonathan found him like this. Or God forbid, Mike. That would be a nightmare.
He was grateful for the solitude at least. Although these days, he was never truly alone. He was in a perpetual state of anxiety, as if he were being watched constantly. Unlike the rest of his friends and family, who could explain it away as worry due to the impending apocalypse or paranoia. He knew he actually was being watched. He could feel Henry (Vecna, he corrected himself) always watching, always waiting to catch him the next time he slept.
He wasn’t sure why Vecna didn’t just put him in a trance like he did with Nancy or Max. God Max. He couldn’t think about Max without getting a lump in his throat.
Maybe that’s what Vecna wanted? To play with his food.
But why him? Why was it always him? What was so special about him? Or was he simply unlucky?
He flushed the toilet and brushed his teeth methodically. The way he did most things nowadays.
His mind was a prison that he was constantly stuck in.
He wondered, distantly, if he should tell someone. But what would he even say? 'Hey, I’ve been having dreams about Vecna where nothing really happens, and he just stares at me.'
I mean, what would anyone even do with that information? They would probably just assume the same as he had at first, that it was just PTSD. He would still believe this himself if it wasn’t for the constant presence he felt at the back of his neck like a chill that never quite went away.
It’s not like this was anything new or useful. They were already hunting Vecna, and they were already going to kill him. What good would telling anyone really do?
Who would he even tell? He couldn’t tell his mom or Jonathan. They’d worry and never let him out of their sight. Dustin was still grieving Eddie and barely holding on. Lucas was doing the same with Max. El was busy training with Hopper these days, and he knew she needed to be focused.
He briefly thought of Mike. He would’ve told Mike, once upon a time. He did tell him, back when he was seeing the Mindflayer before he got possessed. He had known Mike would understand that Mike would protect him.
He shook the thought away. He and Mike hadn’t been that way in a long time. They had mended things in Lenora, sure, but it hadn’t been quite the same. It wasn’t for lack of effort on Mike’s part. He had practically begged his parents to let Will stay in his room. Will was the one who had agreed to the basement.
He couldn’t let himself get so wrapped up in Mike again. After he poured his heart out when giving Mike the painting, it almost hurt to look at him. Sure, he had hidden behind El. He’d lied to Mike and said that his feelings were El’s. Maybe that was wrong. He had never lied to Mike. 'Friends don’t lie' was a party rule that he had taken seriously. But this wasn’t rolling a 7 in D&D. This was his whole heart. So he needed to stay away from Mike. He needed to keep some distance to keep himself sane. To keep himself safe. It was the only way he was going to survive.
So no. He absolutely could not tell Mike anything. He’d just have to handle it on his own. And he was. He was.
When he finally left the bathroom, Jonathan was there, remaking the couch as if he had actually slept there.
“Oh, hey! You’re up early.” Jonathan said brightly when he turned around.
“Yeah.” Will gave his brother a small smile. “I had to pee.” He shrugged.
Jonathan studied him for a moment as if assessing for damage.
“How was Nancy’s room?” Will asked simply to change the subject.
It worked because Jonathan just rolled his eyes fondly. “Don’t start.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Will smirked, and that was that. His brother was none the wiser. Crisis averted.
Slowly, the whole house migrated to the table for breakfast. Mr. Wheeler was already at the head of the table reading his newspaper, and Mrs. Wheeler was hard at work cooking.
She looked up with a smile when she saw them enter. “Good morning, boys! Did you sleep okay?”
“We slept great, Mrs. Wheeler. Thank you.” Jonathan answered.
“Can we help with anything?” Will asked.
She waved her hand. “You both just sit down and enjoy breakfast.”
“Don’t mind if I do!” Mike offered as he barreled into the room and into his usual seat beside Will.
Holly came skipping in a minute later, followed by an exasperated-looking Nancy.
“You okay?” Mike asked Will softly while everyone was sorting themselves out at the table.
Will simply hummed and nodded.
Mike opened his mouth to say more when his mother joined them at the table with a chipper good morning. Then Mrs. Wheeler brought everything over to the table, and the meal descended into its usual chaos. Will studiously avoided Mike’s gaze for the rest of the meal just to be safe.
Will was stuck between a constant feeling of relief that the day was over and dread for what he knew the night would bring. Just like clockwork, Henry visited Will again in his dreams. He hated the feeling of being strung up by vines. It made him feel like the same little kid he was in 1983, like he had never really left this place at all. Never really been saved.
“Did you miss me? My William.” Henry asked with a fond stroke of his cheek.
“What do you want?” Will asked in between panicked breaths. He was so tired of this. Tired of him.
Henry simply studied him.
“What do you want from me?” Will asked again.
Henry actually looked confused for a moment. “I want nothing from you.”
“Then why am I here?”
Henry tsked. “Poor William. You must’ve thought I’d forgotten about you. As if I ever could.” He gave Will a look of love that made him sick to his stomach. “You have no idea how special you are. Do you?”
“What? I don’t…I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t,” Henry said sadly as he cupped Will’s cheek in his palm. It filled Will’s body with ice. His skin was crawling.
“Don’t touch me.” He spat out.
Henry sighed. “You’re really being very difficult, William.” He moved his thumb back and forth as if he were stroking Will’s cheek as a lover might. “You know I would never hurt you.”
“All you’ve ever done is hurt me,” Will answered with disgust.
“I know you think that, but you’ll understand one day soon. Then you’ll come to me. It is inevitable.”
“Never. I’ll never join you.”
“Oh, but you already have. Our souls are bound together.” Will shook his head. “You don’t believe me? Can’t you feel it? My presence, even when I’m not with you. My thoughts and my feelings. You can sense me across dimensions. As I can sense you.”
Will wanted to argue. He wanted to say that wasn’t true. That Henry was lying, but he knew he wasn’t. The truth was that Will did always feel him. He was always there in the back of his head like a ghost that haunted him.
“You’ve always been mine, William.”
“I’ll never be yours!” He ground out with pure hatred.
“You can fight it all you want, but you’ll lose. Just like your friends will lose this petty war they’re waging. You’ll see soon enough.”
Will woke up with a gasp. His heaving breaths sounded so loud against the silence of the basement. His ears were ringing with it.
He was still half asleep as he stumbled up the stairs and into the kitchen. He had to hold onto the wall to make sure he didn’t fall over. He practically fell into the kitchen counter and immediately stuck his head under the sink. He greedily drank from the tap and then let some splash on his head.
The shock of his dripping hair brought him back to the present. He heaved out another desperate breath and pulled his head out from under the sink.
“Will?” He heard a voice call softly. Mike. He’d know Mike’s voice anywhere. “What’re you doing?”
Will whipped his head around to see Mike standing behind me. He was still breathing too hard, but it was better than before.
“What’s wrong?” Mike asked immediately in that voice he reserved only for Will.
Will opened his mouth to explain, but he couldn’t find the words. His emotions must be written all over his face because Mike's expression grew increasingly concerned.
“Hey.” He called softly and took a few steps towards him. “You’re shaking.” Mike reached out, and Will couldn’t help it when he flinched. Henry’s touch was still too fresh.
“Sorry.” He stuttered out at the hurt look on Mike’s face. He couldn’t stand it when Mike was upset, especially if it was because of him.
“Hey. It’s okay.” He answered softly. “What happened?” He slowly reached his hand out again to put his hand on Will’s shoulder.
This time, Will was expecting it, so he let him. He felt something ease inside him despite himself. He couldn’t help it. It was Mike.
“Just a nightmare,” Will answered quietly.
Mike nodded. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
Will shook his head.
“Will-”
“Please, Mike. I can’t. I can’t.” Will begged him desperately.
“Okay. I’m sorry. You don’t have to.” Will released a breath at that. His ears had finally stopped ringing, and he noticed that Mike was rubbing his thumb back and forth on Will’s shoulder in a soothing gesture. How long had he been doing that?
“Do you wanna come sleep in my room tonight?” Mike asked. Will was about to say no. He had no plans of going back to sleep at all, and he certainly had no plans of sleeping in Mike’s room. “Please?” Mike begged him like he knew Will couldn’t say no to him. “I think it’ll help if you’re not alone.” Will opened his mouth to respond. “I know Jonathan hasn’t been sleeping in the basement; I hear him sneaking into Nancy’s room every night.” Mike couldn’t help his disgusted face as he relayed this information.
“Gross,” Will said with a tiny smile.
Mike smiled back at him. “There he is.”
Will felt himself blush a little.
“Come on. Let’s go upstairs.” He coaxed softly, and Will followed him against his better judgment.
He was too tired to argue when Mike insisted that they share the bed. He pulled the blanket up and over Will. Although Will couldn’t have done that himself, it was a sweet gesture. It felt nice that Mike was taking care of him.
Mike lay down next to him. Will couldn’t help but let his eyes flutter closed to the sound of Mike breathing beside him. He was too exhausted to dream.