Will moves away from him and Mike has to fight the urge to close the distance immediately. There's a flash of hurt across his face and Mike can't understand what it is that he's done or said to cause it. The rain is really coming down now, turning his hair into a flattened mat against his head and he wants to reach up to wipe it away, but that would mean letting go of Will's hand and he's too afraid that if he does, Will will slip away into the shadows of the Creel House, without him. So he lets his bangs droop into his eyes, watching his best friend with wide eyes as he seems to take Mike in - as if he's weighing his options. As if Mike is the last person he'd ever want to go with him into the Upside Down. Mike knows he's not smart like Dustin, or logical like Lucas, or powerful like El, but it still sends a stab of something through his heart. Once upon a time, he doesn't think Will would've hesitated to accept his offer. But maybe that was a long time ago. Before Mike proved just how useless he really was when it came to being a friend, let alone a best friend, or being able to protect any of the people he cared about from any of this.
Each word is another arrow, piercing him through and through. So Will does know just how useless he is. Mike had known that this day was coming, but the painting -- the words in the van -- he'd thought maybe Will still thought something of him. That maybe he'd still have a chance to make sure he didn't have to face the worst thing that ever happened to any of them alone.
I don't think you ever should have. Anger flashes in Mike's eyes as he stares back at Will, struck dumb by the wrongness of those words. Since when would Will rather have died than have Mike try to find him? Since when had Will ever doubted for a second that Mike would've and still would do anything to get him back? Had Vecna been working at him for so long that he could doubt facts as irrefutable as the laws of gravity?
I think I died that day, but your life started, right? Another stab to the heart. Mike's brow furrows as a memory resurfaces, El floating her face scrunched up in pain, Will nodding at him to try to save her, the words falling out of his mouth before he could think about them. He'd never been good at lying, it was why he was so bad at saying the important things out loud, but when he was twelve he had been good at telling people the things they needed to hear. He'd told Dustin that they were all his best friends, even if he'd known that Will was different from the others. He'd told Nancy that there wouldn't be any more secrets, even if he knew that there would be no going back to the childish promises they'd made before that month. Even if he'd lied point blank to her for months afterwards when she asked him if he was okay and she'd done the same to him. Then something had changed when El returned. He'd tried to be a good boyfriend. He planned dates and spent hours making out and said all the things he thought El wanted, but it had felt too dishonest. Once the Byers had moved to California it had been easier to omit the truth, rather than to lie completely to someone he cared about. But El had seen right through him. Even in that moment when he'd been desperately trying to find the words she needed and he'd told the biggest lie of his life, she hadn't believed him. She'd told him in so many words afterwards, right after they'd decided they were better off as friends. Friends don't lie, Mike.
Mike sucks in a deep breath, his fingers tightening around Will's hand. "Will," he croaks, rivulets of rain sliding down his cheeks and into his open mouth. He forces himself to breathe, to swallow. To speak. To tell the truth. "I..." He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know how to start. All he knows is the shuttered look Will's giving him now, the one that tells him he doesn't expect him to fight him. "I didn't mean what I said. I panicked. El was losing and... I tried. I tried to tell her what she needed to hear, but... I lied."
Shame burns red hot in his gut and he can feel the heat of it creeping up into his chest and face. A peal of thunder shakes the ground they're standing on, followed by a strike of lightening that momentarily blinds Mike. He blinks, trying to regain his vision. He pulls Will closer protectively and suddenly, just like that, the space between them is gone. Mike's eyes trace the curve of Will's jaw, the darkness under his eyes, the hint of hurt hidden just behind them.
Mike can feel panic building in his chest. Not the kind that had spurred him to lie to El, but the kind that comes at the prospect of living in a world without Will. It's clawing it's way up his throat and all he can do is take a breath before it comes tumbling out like a never ending waterfall.
"My world ended the night you went missing. I know we were just kids, but you... God, Will, you were and are everything to me. When I thought you were dead, I... " He lets out a shuddering breath, clamping his jaw shut for a moment. He thinks about the quarry edge. About the rush of water before he'd stopped falling abruptly. "I wanted to die too."
"I know I can't save you. I've never been able to save you from any of this, but I can't just let you go." He swallows thickly, squeezing Will's hand. "If this is it. If you're just going to surrender... then I am too." Mike's clothes feel heavy, suffocating, wet. He wants to slip out of them and leave them behind. He thinks there'd be something almost poetic about going out of the world the way they came into it, but luckily his mouth doesn't put that thought out into the world. Instead, it twists into a frown. "If you die, I die."
Because he's already died a few times. Every time he's lost Will, it's felt like dying. The first time, the time he lost him to the Mindflayer, the time he lost him to California... It feels laughably dramatic in the wake of all the real loss they've experienced, but it doesn't make it any less true. Mike knows it doesn't compare to what actually losing Will would be like, but he knows enough from the quarry's edge to know that he's not strong enough to withstand it. "If I lose you then nothing else matters."
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Date: 2024-10-02 06:22 pm (UTC)Each word is another arrow, piercing him through and through. So Will does know just how useless he is. Mike had known that this day was coming, but the painting -- the words in the van -- he'd thought maybe Will still thought something of him. That maybe he'd still have a chance to make sure he didn't have to face the worst thing that ever happened to any of them alone.
I don't think you ever should have. Anger flashes in Mike's eyes as he stares back at Will, struck dumb by the wrongness of those words. Since when would Will rather have died than have Mike try to find him? Since when had Will ever doubted for a second that Mike would've and still would do anything to get him back? Had Vecna been working at him for so long that he could doubt facts as irrefutable as the laws of gravity?
I think I died that day, but your life started, right? Another stab to the heart. Mike's brow furrows as a memory resurfaces, El floating her face scrunched up in pain, Will nodding at him to try to save her, the words falling out of his mouth before he could think about them. He'd never been good at lying, it was why he was so bad at saying the important things out loud, but when he was twelve he had been good at telling people the things they needed to hear. He'd told Dustin that they were all his best friends, even if he'd known that Will was different from the others. He'd told Nancy that there wouldn't be any more secrets, even if he knew that there would be no going back to the childish promises they'd made before that month. Even if he'd lied point blank to her for months afterwards when she asked him if he was okay and she'd done the same to him. Then something had changed when El returned. He'd tried to be a good boyfriend. He planned dates and spent hours making out and said all the things he thought El wanted, but it had felt too dishonest. Once the Byers had moved to California it had been easier to omit the truth, rather than to lie completely to someone he cared about. But El had seen right through him. Even in that moment when he'd been desperately trying to find the words she needed and he'd told the biggest lie of his life, she hadn't believed him. She'd told him in so many words afterwards, right after they'd decided they were better off as friends. Friends don't lie, Mike.
Mike sucks in a deep breath, his fingers tightening around Will's hand. "Will," he croaks, rivulets of rain sliding down his cheeks and into his open mouth. He forces himself to breathe, to swallow. To speak. To tell the truth. "I..." He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know how to start. All he knows is the shuttered look Will's giving him now, the one that tells him he doesn't expect him to fight him. "I didn't mean what I said. I panicked. El was losing and... I tried. I tried to tell her what she needed to hear, but... I lied."
Shame burns red hot in his gut and he can feel the heat of it creeping up into his chest and face. A peal of thunder shakes the ground they're standing on, followed by a strike of lightening that momentarily blinds Mike. He blinks, trying to regain his vision. He pulls Will closer protectively and suddenly, just like that, the space between them is gone. Mike's eyes trace the curve of Will's jaw, the darkness under his eyes, the hint of hurt hidden just behind them.
Mike can feel panic building in his chest. Not the kind that had spurred him to lie to El, but the kind that comes at the prospect of living in a world without Will. It's clawing it's way up his throat and all he can do is take a breath before it comes tumbling out like a never ending waterfall.
"My world ended the night you went missing. I know we were just kids, but you... God, Will, you were and are everything to me. When I thought you were dead, I... " He lets out a shuddering breath, clamping his jaw shut for a moment. He thinks about the quarry edge. About the rush of water before he'd stopped falling abruptly. "I wanted to die too."
"I know I can't save you. I've never been able to save you from any of this, but I can't just let you go." He swallows thickly, squeezing Will's hand. "If this is it. If you're just going to surrender... then I am too." Mike's clothes feel heavy, suffocating, wet. He wants to slip out of them and leave them behind. He thinks there'd be something almost poetic about going out of the world the way they came into it, but luckily his mouth doesn't put that thought out into the world. Instead, it twists into a frown. "If you die, I die."
Because he's already died a few times. Every time he's lost Will, it's felt like dying. The first time, the time he lost him to the Mindflayer, the time he lost him to California... It feels laughably dramatic in the wake of all the real loss they've experienced, but it doesn't make it any less true. Mike knows it doesn't compare to what actually losing Will would be like, but he knows enough from the quarry's edge to know that he's not strong enough to withstand it. "If I lose you then nothing else matters."