Chapter Text
Last night, Will Byers dreamt he hadn’t done it. He dreamt that everything was as it was before, that nothing had changed, that he was someone else. Even as a child, there had always been a strange hole through him. Will was a piece that didn’t fit. He was always too much or too little, too quiet or too emotional, too imaginative, and not strong enough.
and now they knew.
He was forced into laying his secrets out before everyone he loved; he had sat with shaking hands and spilling eyes and his face so pale his mother thought he would be sick. Except, this time it wasn’t because a monster lurked behind him, or because he was lost alone in another dimension, or because one of his friends was in imminent danger. This time, it was simply himself that horrified him.
I’m so tired of being the boy that I am. I am so tired of having to pretend I’m okay with myself.
Now, as Will lay on his little mattress with morning sunlight filtering through the tiny basement window, he screwed his eyes shut and grasped at the last dissipating ribbons of his dream as they slipped away. He longed to sink back into the relief of sleep, where no one saw him differently, where he was not so disturbingly, uncomfortably known by those around them. Where he was still Mike Wheeler’s best friend and Mike did not know. Mike, whose basement he had slept in for the last eighteen months, Mike, whose voice was as gentle and sweet as honey, and who slept on his floor for a week when they were children just to comfort him when he was recovering from the effects of the Upside Down. His best and oldest friend.
Of course, he’d put the pieces together. I should have known.
Will hadn’t even realized he was crying. Bitter tears ran warm between his cheek and the pillow, dripping over the bridge of his nose uncomfortably. There is something sickening about weeping before one has even stepped out of bed. Will rubbed his hands over his face and exhaled shakily, sitting up. It was almost nine AM. Jonathan was gone, his blanket turned over.
Suddenly, a knock sounded at the basement door. Will froze.
“Will? Honey, are you up?” Joyce called, her footsteps clattering down the wooden steps.
Will felt small, sitting there on the mattress in his button up pajama shirt, with big, watery eyes and messy hair.
“Are you alright? You never sleep in, I wanted to come check on you.” His mother’s eyes filled with concerned affection when she noticed his tear streaked cheeks. He looked away. She touched his shoulder warmly as she sat down beside him on his blankets.
“I can’t face everyone, Mom.”
Joyce was silent for a moment, watching his face.
His words came out in a frantic rush. “I know they were all perfectly nice about it, and they’re good friends, I just-“ he hesitated, shaking his head and dropping his eyes, “I just- all these years I’ve figured that if I just hide the parts of myself that are different- that people couldn’t love, and all the pieces that didn’t match my friends, that I could, I guess, create a version of myself that deserved the care and affection the people around me always give. But now, they don’t see that version anymore, they just see me. All of me. And that’s hard, mom,” his voice broke, “I don’t know what they’re thinking now. I just feel like I made them uncomfortable, and they didn’t show it because they’re nice people. I know they don’t see me the same and I just-”
“Hey, honey, slow down, it’s okay,” Joyce interrupted, clasping both of his hands tenderly in hers, “I know you must be feeling so much right now. I know how anxious you are. But, you did something very brave. You’re the same wonderful, beautiful person you were before. Now, they just know something new about you. That’s all. Maybe they were surprised, but so what? I promise, you never need to try to be someone you aren’t, and I don’t want you to feel like you do. They love you, Will.” She squeezed his hands and her eyes smiled.
“I know, but what if- what if they don’t love me as much now? What if, deep down, this is too much for them to accept?” His voice fell to an ashamed whisper, “I know Mike knows it’s about him. He won’t even look at me.”
“Oh, Will,” Joyce whispered, cupping his cheek, “He has been your best friend since kindergarten, that doesn’t change overnight. He’s a good kid, he isn’t like that. I know you’re scared, but I also know that all your friends care about you, especially Mike, even if he doesn’t always show it anymore. I am so sorry you have to feel like this, baby.”
Will couldn’t bring himself to raise his eyes, as a new nauseating fear welled up.
“Mom?”
“Hm?”
“Are you…disappointed?”
He regretted the words as soon as they slipped past his lips. If this part of him broke his mother’s heart like he feared it did, it would kill him.
“Will. Nothing- nothing- in this world could ever make me love you less. You’re my son. You will always have me, and who you are and who you love could never disappoint me. Ever.” Her eyes were glassy, and as she pulled Will into a hug, something inside him cracked open and the tears began to flow freely, seeping into her shirt.
Everything that was happening, the blood and the monsters and the horrors of Vecna, and now this too poured from him in unabashed cries.
“It’s okay,” Joyce murmured into his hair, rocking gently back forth. She rubbed his back, and her heart broke for him.