Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Mike climbed down the ladder after the rest of the group, with Will descending shortly behind him. He could sense the boy’s hesitation and tried to keep his own reservations in check so he wouldn’t make him more nervous. The tunnels were sketchy on a good day, and downright miserable when the air turned damp and clung to every surface it could find. Luckily, the dry heat of the sun had kept the cavern walls from sweating; the moisture hung in the air instead of sticking to their skin.

At some point over the last few years, the particles that plagued the whole network of tunnels had dissipated until they disappeared completely. Mike wasn't sure if it was because Vecna had exhausted his use for them, or if it was something else he didn't care to investigate. They already had enough problems without adding the mystery behind what was hidden beneath Hawkins to the list.

When he reached the last rung of the ladder, Will accepted Mike's hand and hopped down; a plume of dust rose with his abrupt landing and reflected in the bright ray of Mike's flashlight.

Quiet chatter echoed through the space as Nancy, Jonathan, El, and Joyce walked ahead, stopping a ways off to wait for Mike and Will. Hopper was meeting with Murray to get the vast amount of salt since they'd already burned through their supply. Lucas, Dustin, Steve, Vickie, and Robin had all stayed back at the station with Max in case anything were to go wrong, and they had to fight off another horde of Demos.

There was an argument to bring Max to the cabin, but it was ultimately shot down for several reasons: one, the cabin was small and already going to be filled to the brim, two, having them all in one place was riskier in the event that something went wrong, and three, if Will was going to get back to the head space he needed to crawl into Vecna's mind, then the less people there to make him nervous the better.

Will ran his hand along one of the walls before pulling it back like he'd been burned.

"You okay?" Mike asked.

The only response he got was a slight tilt of his head. Will kept his shoulders drawn in, hands hovering close to his sides as his eyes flicked uneasily down the tunnel. Mike could tell he hated the place, and he couldn’t blame him. The smell was awful—mildew with a hint of death—and the resemblance to the Upside Down was everywhere.

With guarded steps, like something was going to jump out at them at any moment, Will followed Mike through the dark corridor, his hand finding its way around Mike's wrist.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Mike asked only to receive another nod.

"You don't have to," he added. "Everyone would understand."

"I do," Will said quietly.

"You don't. We can call off this whole thing right now and go back to the station." Mike was hoping he would say yes. The only thing that had kept him from arguing the point till he was blue in the face was Will's insistence on helping.

"I have to try. But you…you don't have to go, if you don't want to."

Mike took a deep breath. "Of course I will go with you."

Joyce glanced over her shoulder every few moments to check on them, even though they were only a few steps behind. About halfway there, Nancy fell into line beside Mike.

"You're going to have to come home soon," she said in lieu of any sort of greeting.

"Why?" Mike responded, his voice going a little higher than he would have liked. "Can't you cover for me?"

"I have been, Mike. They think you're camping with Lucas and Dustin, but that's only going to last so long. Mom is already asking questions."

"I'll just…" Mike really didn't want to deal with his parents right now. "I'll call and say that I'm going to stay with Lucas for a few more days. You know, cause he's still so upset about Max."

"I think that excuse is getting old."

"It's not like it's a lie."

"No, but you know how they are. Better to move on and forget that anything's wrong."

Mike nodded; he knew exactly how they were. He would have been surprised if his dad even noticed he'd been gone. At least his mom was a bit better at keeping tabs on him, not that he made it easy. There were countless nights that he'd be missing from his bed, though one call to the Byers' house was enough to ease her mind since he only gravitated to one place.

Nancy smiled at Will before catching up with Jonathan.

"So," Mike started, then cleared his throat. "Would you want to, you know, come home with me when this is all over? Of course, you don't have to, but your mom and Jonathan already live there, so it would make sense. And you could stay in my room, with me. Like when we were kids—" Mike was rambling.

Will was staring at him with wide eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah, I mean, of course."

Will smiled, his eyes turned glassy.

"Will, I meant what I said. And I'll say it as many times as it takes until you believe me: I'm not going anywhere, and you are never going to be alone again. Whether it's with me, or your mom, or brother…never. Okay?"

Will swallowed, the weight of Mike's words settling over him, and all Mike could do was hope that they stuck. "Okay. I would like to stay with you."

Mike didn't bother trying to hide the smile that broke out over his face. "Good. That's…that's really good."

"Can we watch more movies?"

"We can watch anything you want."

***

Just like Mike thought it would be, the cabin was cramped and uncomfortable with the number of people milling around. He'd lost count of how many times he'd rolled his eyes in the last twenty minutes. If someone wasn't offering Will tea or checking on how he was feeling, then they were asking him questions he wasn't going to answer, which meant Mike had to do his best to read Will's reaction and fill in the gaps where he could.

Joyce was sitting on the other side of Will, her hands enveloping his as she talked to him quietly. Hopper stood with his hand on El's shoulder, bending enough to meet her gaze. Nancy and Jonathan sat at the small dining table, both with mirrored expressions of concern.

They were waiting. For what? Mike wasn't sure. Will hadn't even known that he was responsible for seeking Henry out in his mind, and had no idea how he was supposed to do it now.

"…and if he gets close, you run," Joyce said. "No matter what, you get out of there. Okay?"

Will nodded as he chewed on his lip. Mike would be glad when all this was over, and he could wrap him back up in a warm blanket. If it wasn't for Max, Mike wasn't sure he could sit by and watch as Will dove headfirst back into the mind of his abuser.

"It's ready," El said as she pulled out the thermometer from the makeshift bath at the back of the living room.

Will took a deep breath.

"So, how exactly are we doing this?" Nancy asked.

"Will's going to sleep," El said while tying her hair back. "I'll pull Mike into the void and wait for Will to make contact with Henry. I should be able to sneak us in without Henry knowing."

"Should," Hopper said with about as much skepticism as a person could have.

"Yes, should," El repeated.

"Is there anything we can do?" Joyce asked. "To…make it easier? Or to help?"

El shook her head. "No. I can do it."

"And if things go wrong?" Jonathan shifted in his seat. "You guys will be able to get out of there, right?"

Mike's gaze bounced around the room. Perhaps they should have gone over the plan in more detail. Once the arguing had ceased and El said she could do it, that had been that.

"If anything goes wrong, then Will can pull Mike out the same way that he got out the last time. And I'll be fine," El explained.

"What does that mean?" Hop asked, his gaze tense as he stared at El, as if trying to get her to back out.

"It means I know how his mind works, I can get out."

"And you…" Joyce asked Will. "You think you'll be able to get out of there again? With Mike?"

Will glanced at Mike before shrugging.

"That's reassuring," Nancy commented under her breath, though he could see the worry still hidden in her features.

"He can do," Mike said firmly. "He's done it twice before that I know of. If we need to escape, then Will can do it."

Will smiled, though it was more of a thanks for your confidence, even if neither of us knows if that's true, kind of smile.

With the lights dimmed to a single lamp and mugs set aside, Joyce moved to the recliner so Will could lie down. Mike slid to the other end to give him as much room as possible, but Will's head ended up in Mike's lap anyway.

He could feel the eyes on them, tracing along all the points where they were connected. It made Mike's skin prickle with unease, like someone was going to say that it was wrong, or that they should move. No one said anything, but Mike still shifted uncomfortably until Will glanced up at him questioningly. The innocent look in his eyes was enough to make Mike take a deep breath and relax into their shared body heat.

They all waited for Will to fall asleep. It wasn't until Mike had truly ignored the glances and started running his fingers through his hair that Will finally drifted off, his breath evening out.

"He's asleep," Mike said over his shoulder to El.

"Let's give him a minute," Jonathan said. "He moves around a lot, so he could wake up in a second."

Mike smiled. It was true; where Mike couldn't sit still during his waking hours, Will was incapable of remaining content with one position in his sleep. As if on cue, he flipped himself over until his head was buried in Mike's stomach. The pressure was light enough that it didn't aggravate the bandaged wounds still resting beneath his sweater.

Though Will didn't stir awake, they all allowed him another moment to fully relax. Mike continued to run his hand through the silky strands of his uneven hair. He wondered if he would want to cut it soon; it was longer than he'd ever seen him have it growing up, a little curlier too.

Mike felt his own eyes drifting when his gaze landed on the pocket of Will's sweatpants. As carefully as he could—with his free hand—Mike reached over and slipped two small trinkets out of the fabric. The first was a D20 dice that Mike recognized from the station, and the second was a neon green alien key chain that he'd seen hanging near the kitchen.

Both items reminded Mike of the shelf Will had in his shack in the Upside Down. It was filled with the various things he'd collected from the houses and stored in his own space.

Carefully, with a soft, fond smile, he slid them back in safely.

"Okay, I'm going in," El said before slipping into the water and closing her eyes. Hopper leaned against the wall next to the tub until she nodded, and he closed the lid. Mike settled against the couch and followed suit. He wasn't sure what the exact protocol was for entering the void, but according to El, he would feel a tug in his stomach and wake to complete darkness.

Nothing happened for a moment. The weight of Will's body over his thighs and the gentle rhythm of his breathing were enough to keep him calm, but the nerves were still there. He knew that nothing good waited for them in Henry's mind, and Mike didn't know how he was supposed to protect Will from it.

Part of him wanted to shake the boy awake and take him out of the cabin—take him far enough away that no one would ever be able to ask another thing of him again. But Will deserved to be listened to, and he wanted to do this. So even if it meant killing himself in the process, Mike would do whatever it took to keep him safe.

Mike was about to open his eyes and say it wasn't working when he felt it—as she said, it was an uncomfortable swoop in his belly. Much like a drop from the highest point of a roller coaster.

When he came to, everything was black.

"Mike."

Mike spun around to find El at his side, helping him up from where he'd been crouching on the ground.

"Whoa," Mike looked around, but there was absolutely nothing to see. Every single direction that he looked was blanketed in complete darkness. Calling it the void was a horribly accurate description.

And then, in the distance, he started to make out the couch from the cabin, and Will resting against the cushions.

Mike stared for a moment. "How are you going to—"

"Wait."

They moved closer until he could make out the finer details of Will's expression. It was pulled tight—uncomfortable.

"He's not there yet. He's not in Henry's mind."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

Mike rolled his eyes.

"Wait," she said again with her eyes closed.

"I am waiting."

Even with her eyes shut, he could see the exasperation, though it was quieter than most people.

"He's there. I can feel it."

Mike grabbed her arm before she could take a step forward. "Hold on—"

"Mike, we don't have time—"

"Just, hold on. I need you to promise me that if something goes wrong, you'll get Will out of there."

"If something goes wrong, then he will get you out. That is the plan."

Mike clenched his jaw. "No. If something happens and he can't, then you take him, and you go. I'll figure something out."

"Mike—"

"Promise me."

El stared into his eyes. "You love him."

"Of course I do."

"No, that's not—"

"El."

"Okay. If something goes wrong and I can get him out, I will."

"Thank you."

El nodded before taking Mike's hand and reaching for Will's arm.

The shift was instant. Instead of the bleak abyss of nothingness, everything was light and sunny, but there was no warmth. The breeze rattled the trees, but it didn't touch his skin.

"Will!" Mike called, drawing the boys' attention from where he was looking towards the sky. He looked exhausted already. Weary of his surroundings and wanting nothing more than to get out of there. Mike couldn't help but share the sentiment.

The branches crunched beneath their feet as the three of them met in the middle.

"This is the place?" El asked.

Will nodded.

"Okay, we just need to look for—"

The ground shook before falling away completely. His stomach shot into his throat as he plunged, weightless for a heartbeat before gravity took hold. Cold air roared past his ears, and his arms jerked out instinctively, grasping at nothing but empty space.

A gasp tore from his lips as Mike slammed into the hard floor, his arm taking the brunt of the fall. He blinked away the blur in his vision, trying to take in his new surroundings.

"What the hell?" he mumbled, voice strained.

"Mike," El called.

Mike sat upright, immediately searching for Will, who was nowhere to be found. "What happened? Where is he?"

"I don't know. We're in a different memory," El said as she offered him a hand.

With his feet steady on the ground, he was able to piece together where they were: the lab.

"This is…"

"Yeah," El said. "We need to find Will. Henry knows."

"WHAT?" Mike yelled, the rapid beat of his heart thumping against his chest in a painful rhythm. "You said you could sneak us in."

"I was wrong."

"Why would he show us a memory of the lab?"

El threw open the nearest door, and then the next when it led to nothing more than an empty room. She moved with practiced ease since the layout was likely familiar. The bright, white lights flickered with unease. The halls hummed with an eerie buzz that only grew louder the further they went.

"Is that blood?" Mike asked when he noticed the streaks of red coating the walls.

El's eyes doubled in size before she squared her shoulders. A determined look coated her features. "I know what this is."

"What?" Mike asked as he worked to keep up with her sharp movements.

"Come on."

The trail of blood only got worse when he made the mistake of looking into one of the open rooms. He saw a body—a child's body. The room was a mess of broken medical equipment and scattered objects.

"El…"

"Mike, we need to keep moving." Her hand wrapped around his arm as she pulled him forward.

"El what—"

"Don't look at them. Don't think about it."

His eyes stung as he tried to stay focused. They had to find Will.

"Do you know where he is?" Mike asked, doing everything possible to ignore the pools of blood scattered across the linoleum. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't help but see the four men in guard uniforms lying limp, the walls above them crushed to pieces like they had been thrown into them before falling to their final resting place.

"Yes."

El reached the door she was looking for, only for it not to budge.

"What do we do?" Mike asked, hating the helplessness he felt.

"There's another door," El said as she pushed past him and rounded a corner. The thick slab of metal opened with ease.

The room was small, housing a lone steel table with two chairs on either side, but it was the vast window covering the far wall that caught his attention.

Mike rushed to the window, his hand connecting with the cool surface.

There was so much blood, everywhere on the other side. Children's corpses lined the floor. It was a stark contrast to the brightly painted rainbow walls and floor. The shelves had been knocked over; once solid white, they were now coated in thick red that ran down their sides and pooled on the ground. Wooden blocks lay scattered across the floor.

So much blood. Destruction. Death.

And there, on the other side of the thin barrier, in the center of it all, was Will, tears in his eyes as he stared at something Mike couldn't see.

"Please," Will begged breathlessly.

"Will!" Mike yelled, but Will didn't break his gaze away from whatever he was looking at.

"He can't hear you." El stood at his side, scanning the expanse of the wall critically. "I can break it. Stand back."

Mike moved to the side. With the change in angle, he could see what had Will frozen in place. Henry stood a few feet away. His voice echoed through the room with Mike and El.

"Don't you see, William," Henry said. His tone alone was enough to send the coldest chill running down Mike's spine. "Don't you see that they are lying to you?"

Will shook his head.

"El, do it now."

"I'm trying!"

"Try harder!" Mike yelled back as he watched Henry continue to manipulate and torment Will right in front of his eyes.

Henry took a step closer to Will's shaking form.

Mike couldn't take it; he grabbed one of the chairs and smashed it into the glass, but the pane held firm, refusing to give an inch.

"Will!" he tried again.

El stood, breathing heavy with her hand raised, blood dripping from her face.

He could barely hear Henry over the sound of his own heartbeat.

"He's fighting me!" El yelled as she seethed through her clenched teeth.

"This is who they are," Henry continued, like he didn't know they weren't on the other side of the glass.

Will shook his head. "No, that's not—"

"William, I have never lied to you. I've kept you safe. I've kept the Shadow from you—"

"No! No, that's not true," Will took a step back. "Mike said—"

"He's lying to you, William. Everything you see here—" he motioned to the countless children bleeding over the floor. "This is their doing. The girl that they've befriended is responsible for this, and they defend her."

Mike glanced at El; both her arms were raised as she pushed against the glass with everything she had.

Henry took another step closer. "Leave them, come home with me."

"I don't want to be alone."

"You won't," Henry said, reaching out but not quite touching, just hovering his hand over Will's cheek. "I will protect you as I always have." His hand finally connected with Will's jaw—caressing.

Will’s demeanor changed in an instant. His fear and confusion gave way to a deep, burning hatred, so raw it seemed to shock even himself.

Henry dropped his hand, sensing his mistake. Will barely let a second pass before he shoved the man away at the same time that El shattered the glass.

Mike climbed over the ledge, just careful enough to miss the sharp ridges of the broken window.

"Will!" Mike called, finally catching his attention.

The look he received was filled with pain as if his world was crumbling right along with the cacophony of splintering shards scattered across the floor. When Mike was close enough, Will clung to him, practically folding into his arms.

"No," Henry said, picking himself up off the floor and wiping the trail of blood from his nose. "You will come with me—"

El grabbed Mike's wrist, pulling them both towards the nearest door. "We need to go."

Using her powers, the door flung open just in time for the three of them to fall through. Everything morphed as the door slammed shut, locking Henry out.

Mike pushed Will far enough away that he could cup his cheeks with both hands, quickly assessing for any damage.

"Are you okay?" he asked breathlessly.

Will nodded, but the glassy look in his eyes was enough to have Mike pulling him back into the embrace.

Voices filled whatever memory they'd fallen into.

"We need to keep moving," El said as she cleaned the streak of red settling on her upper lip. "We don't have much time before he finds us again."

Will hesitated, then begrudgingly wrenched himself free from Mike’s hold—though his fingers lingered, brushing against Mike’s hand before he quickly took it. He drew in a shaky breath, shoulders rising and falling as if trying to steady himself. He looked…better. Or at least settled enough to keep moving.

"What is this?" Mike asked as he looked around.

Vast curtains hung from the ceiling, partially blocking the rest of the theater from view. A warm glow from the bright lights in the dressing rooms flowed into the open space. There were people everywhere: getting ready, setting up, running lines, and at the front and center were the actors already performing.

The music was terrifying as it filled every speaker and echoed through the room with an eerie thrum. Nearly every seat that Mike could see was occupied.

"I don't know," El admitted.

"How are we supposed to find Max?" Mike asked as they wove through the swarm of people.

"We will have to keep going until we find her."

"Oh, right. That really clears things up," Mike rolled his eyes. "Thanks."

A swift poke in his ribs caught his attention. Will narrowed his eyes at him, as to chastise him for his sarcastic quip at El.

"Oh, don't tell me that you like this plan."

Will shrugged, and fair enough considering there wasn't much else to do.

The next door that El pushed open thrust them into the chaotic halls of Hawkins High. The overlapping chatter of students in dated clothing echoed through the brightly lit space. Lockers slammed as sneakers scuffed the linoleum floors.

"Hey, you asshole," a woman's voice caught their attention.

"Mom?" Will muttered, eyebrows pinched.

Mike squinted at the teenager, who was very much a younger version of Joyce. "Why is Joyce in Henry's memories?"

"Hop?" El added as they moved through the crowd, getting closer to the parents they all recognized clearly.

"When was Henry in high school?" Mike asked. "I thought he was in the lab since he was a kid? This doesn't make any sense."

El met his gaze, the same confusion written over her features. "I don't know. They've never said anything about knowing him."

Mike continued to look around, trying to make sense out of all of it, when he settled on a younger boy off to the side, watching, analyzing. It only took a second to find Henry's features all over the boy's face.

The grip on Will's hand tightened as he pulled him away from the younger Henry. "We should keep going."

And so they did. Memory after memory. Most of them were from the lab, but they barely stuck around to know what they were really about. Colors, lights, and broken conversations flashed by as they quickly moved through the map of Henry's convoluted past.

The sound of screaming brought them to a halt, along with the array of flashing lights. Bulbs blew bright before tapering off just to start all over again, filling the room with the same electric buzz Mike kept hearing in the lab.

It took only a second to find the source of the bone-chilling wails, high-pitched and relentless. The owner, a little blond girl, her hair in pig tales, staring at a woman's body lying limp on the dining table, blood rushing from her eyes; her arms and legs bent and splayed out over their dinner in an impossible angle.

Mike knew this memory. Nancy had told them in as much detail as she could remember—Robin filling in any gaps—from her time in the mental institution where they had talked to Victor Creel.

The man at the head of the table—opposite the mutilated dead woman—stood fast enough to have the chair screeching against the floor before tumbling over with a bang. He grabbed the two children and pulled them out of the room.

Mike, Will, and El were quick to follow. Before they could even reach the foyer, the man was trying the handle with as much force as he could muster. The little girl continued to cry while the boy stood eerily, as if he were completely unfazed by watching his mother be bent and forced to bleed.

Before the door had the chance to budge, the man froze, his eyes glazing over, then he stopped completely.

"Dad!" the little girl yelled, large tears rolling down her face before dripping to the floor.

"He can't hear you," the boy responded—cold.

"William."

His voice was everywhere, like it was seeping out of the walls, climbing up the stairs, and echoing from the banister. Mike could feel the deep, sickening drawl burn into his skull, refusing to do anything other than be heard.

Mike couldn't bring himself to turn around, knowing—just by the ear-piercing screams and the sound of bones snapping—that the little girl was going to be dead soon.

"Move," Mike said without realizing he was the one forming the words. "We need to go. Now."

The door wouldn't budge even after Mike had pushed the man out of the way, and El gave it everything she had. The stained glass remained intact, just like the one from the lab. They weren't running, they were locked in one of Henry's hellish memories—again.

Will had his head tilted up as he scanned every inch of the room, his nails digging into the back of Mike's hand, where he clung to him like a lifeline. Or more accurately, like an act of defiance: refusing to let Henry separate them again.

As if the memory had exhausted itself, the man and the kids disappeared, leaving only the mess of blood and the smell of decay and the lingering smoke from the fire in the other room.

"Do you want to see what will happen if you don't come willingly? Do you want to see what will happen again?"

Will shook his head at the phantom voice that would haunt Mike for the rest of his life; he couldn't even begin to imagine what it was doing to the trembling boy standing next to him.

With a grunt and force that he knew would leave a trail of bright red blood fleeing from El's nose, the door slammed open, nearly tearing from the hinges.

"Come on," she said, already clearing the evidence from her upper lip.

"You can't run forever, William."

Mike forced his feet to carry him through the open door after El.

The new memory was darker, seemingly bathed in a blue light that reflected off the shiny surface of the vines that twisted up the walls and wove around the floor.

"No," Will breathed. Mike turned to him before following his gaze to the other side of the room, but he didn't see anything other than the glint of the slimy tendrils.

Will had already started backing towards the way they came, until he just turned around and bolted, slamming his fists against the solid expanse of the brick wall.

"No, No No No No No No NO," Will pounded harder, looking for a way to escape back to the memory before.

"Will!" Mike tried to pull him away, only managing when his knuckles were bloody and the tears were streaking down his tender skin. His breath was coming in violent bursts while his body trembled with an intensity that Mike had never seen before.

"Oh," El gasped.

Mike looked over his shoulder.

There, among the tangle of vines, was a small child—filthy and shaking—held in place by the thick tentacles. His skin was sickly pale, his eyes unfocused as his head lulled to the side. But the absolute worst part of the whole scene was the vine lodged in his throat; the expanse under his Adam's apple pulsed from the intrusion.

In the memory, Will's tiny hands were balled into fists, blood dripping from his palms from where his nails must have dug into his skin.

Mike stood still, shock and horror running through his veins as he watched everything unfold. Heavy footfalls filled the already creaking room as Vecna approached. It wasn't Henry, it was the monster that he'd become.

Will pulled from his grasp as he tried again to break through the solid wall. His movements were frantic and uncoordinated. "NO! Get me out Get me out .. get me … out I can-t please… out. I. get out!" Will sobbed as he pulled at the walls, trying with everything he had to crack the confines of the room.

Mike gripped his shoulders from behind, urging him to stop, but his words were falling onto deaf ears.

"PLeasee—-" he begged. "Stop stop stop…."

"El—"

Mike's desperate plea seemed to pull her out of the trance she'd also fallen into as she stared at the slow strides Vecna was making towards Will's tiny, confined body. "I know!" Her frame jerked as she started moving around the space, ignoring the vile scene unfolding in front of their eyes as she looked for the exit.

"Will, please stop," Mike pleaded over his desperate cries.

When it was clear that he wasn't going to make it past the brick wall, Will turned into Mike, clinging to him with a bruising grip. Mike wrapped his arms around Will instantly as he buried his head in his shoulder.

"Shh, it's okay." There were tears in his own eyes, yet they didn't fall. The turn in his stomach hit him like a punch to the gut; he was a second away from being sick. "It's okay, it's not real. It's not real."

Except that it was. Or, it had been. Will had already lived through this. He endured the pain, the loneliness, the torture, the abuse, and the never-ending torment that waited for him at every step.

Mike clenched his jaw as the hot water pooled onto his bottom lashes

"Make it stop," Will sobbed. "I can't—" he gasped, cutting himself off with his own frantic breathing.

"Eleven!"

"I'm trying!"

Vecna was standing in front of the small version of Will that Mike had lost four years ago. The monster tilted his head, and the vine retracted from Will's throat with a sickening squelching sound. Slime seeped from the corner of his mouth and dripped down his chin. The ragged coughing had the child bent forward—as much as the tentacles would allow—and wheezing through the thick, toxic air.

"I told you what would happen if you tried to leave, William," Vecna said.

Will's grip tightened around Mike as he whimpered at the sound of Vecna's voice. Mike released his hold and brought his hands up to cover Will's ears, though it did nothing to stop the trembling shaking him all the way down to his bones. "It's okay," he kept repeating into his hair. At a certain point, Mike didn't know if it was for Will or himself.

El was still thrashing around at the vines, trying in any way she could to pry something open. To get them out.

But Henry wanted them there. He wanted them to see it. He wanted Will to have to relive what was probably the worst moment of his life.

"Your actions have consequences," Vecna went on.

Mike squeezed his hands tighter, hoping that he was blocking out every single sickening word that fell from Vecna's mouth. He should have looked away, but it was like watching a car crash. So even as he buried his nose in Will's hair and kissed the top of his head, he couldn't pull his gaze from it.

Vecna lifted his hand, and with one clawed finger, he dug into the thin skin of Will's forehead, dragging it down through his eye as the child screamed—broken and weak from the torment he'd already endured.

He didn't stop until he reached the top of his cheekbone. Blood spilled over his ruined skin while he thrashed against the vines.

Mike thought of Will staring in the mirror, at his blemished skin, and hating it. Thinking he looked bad. It broke whatever was left inside of Mike. His entire life was stolen away, only for him to finally get it back and have to live with seeing the abuse done to him every day.

"I told you," Vecna said, pulling his hand back and curling it into a fist. "We are going to do great things together. You will be my vessel. You are mine."

Mike felt the bile rise in his throat. The acidic sting filled his mouth as he swallowed it down.

Blood dripped from the tiny Will's face as the child cried. The vines grew tighter, punching the air from his stomach and sending it out into the tarnished room in waves.

It was a memory.

Will had lived through this.

It didn't matter that he was standing in Mike's arms, sobbing tears real enough to convince him he was still there, because that meant that the Will who was pinned to the wall, violated and wrecked with pain and exhaustion, had somehow managed to get out. Alone.

He'd washed the blood off in the lake filled with particles and decay. He'd changed from his saturated clothes into something nearly as filthy. And then he'd crawled into his pile of scratchy blankets and curled around himself. Alone.

He'd bandaged the many wounds around his body with ripped-up cloth that would leave infections behind, only for him to swallow expired medicine that probably did nothing but break the fever. He did all of this by himself.

Mike would never even come close to knowing what any of that felt like. How could he ever even begin to make Will feel safe again, to help him escape from the endless cycle of abuse he'd been through?

Mike would burn the world to the ground, but that still wouldn't be enough.

El's exasperated breathing echoed around them as she finally broke open a window. "I got it!" she yelled.

Mike closed his eyes as he pressed another kiss to the top of his head and took a deep, steadying breath.

Carefully, Mike eased his hands a fraction of the way off Will's ears and leaned in. "It's okay—" It wasn't. It wasn't even close to okay. "We can go," he sniffed, trying to clear his nose, though it was proving to be fruitless.

Will whined into his shoulder, his legs about ready to give. With an unsteady arm, Mike looped it around his waist and pulled him to the side. "Don't look," he said.

El had already crawled through the window. On the other side, she offered a hand that Will refused, clinging to Mike with a strength he didn't know he had.

"Will, it's okay. Let her help, please," Mike begged. Anything to get them out of there, but Will only shook his head.

"Okay, okay."

It was difficult to get them through, with Will refusing to let go of Mike and barely able to get himself up.

By the time they were on the other side, Mike had almost wished they hadn't bothered.

"El," Mike said as he held Will's trembling form tightly in his arms. He didn't need to see any of this. "Just take him. Get him out of here. It's too much."

El shook her head, her jaw clenched, before she admitted, "I can't. He knows we're here. He knows where we are. Until we can get away, I can't even pull myself out."

The bright bolts of red lightning tore through the storm clouds. The thickness of the air—though he couldn't really feel it—wafted around them. The lake lapped at the shore as it rocked back and forth. And there, just ahead, was the small shack that Will had been living in.

At first, it didn't seem like they were in Henry's memory at all since all Mike could see was the same fragile boy with his face sliced open, barely healed, heaving against the side of his shed. The short strands of his hair were matted and greasy, his clothes rumpled and shredded in several places, but it was the devastating retching noises that wracked his entire body that truly left Mike without the will to live.

The Will in Mike's arms started to lift his head, but Mike was quick to pull him back. Based on the sounds and smell alone, Mike was sure that he already knew where he was, probably when he was too.

"Then we need to get the hell out of here," Mike said as he quickly wiped the remaining tears away before pulling Will closer.

El nodded.

Mike looked down at the top of Will's head since he had buried himself in Mike's shoulder once again.

The boy was still bent over, crying into the side of the shelter as he coughed into the air. He was so small, so fragile. The tears that dripped from his chin were tinted red from the wound covering half his face.

"What do we do?" Mike asked frantically.

"Keep going."

Mike wanted to argue, to demand that they get Will out now, but he knew that El was saying it regretfully.

No one would have asked Will to do this if they knew what would be waiting on the other side. Mike would have never let this happen.

Will wasn't looking, had barely had the chance to register whatever hell they'd climbed into. Mike held him tightly as he followed El towards the lake.

Mike had just enough time to see something thick and wriggling fall from the child's mouth before his gaze found Henry, off in the distance, just watching.

El paused, her eyes assessing. "This isn't working."

"What are we supposed to do?" Mike asked, his fingers running through Will's hair. He'd stopped crying, but his entire body continued to shake. "You said that we had to keep going."

"I know. But I don't know where we're going. I think—" El took a deep breath. "I think Will has to be the one opening the doors."

Mike swallowed. Will hadn't so much as made a single noise that wasn't a whimpering cry.

Mike slowly—gently—pushed him back enough to meet his gaze, but his eyes were pinched shut, eyelashes soaked with unshed tears. His breathing was next to manic while his heart was pounding so loudly that even Mike thought he could hear the sound of the heavy beat.

"I don't—"

Will had fallen into some sort of self-induced catatonic state, and Mike didn't have a clue how to pull him out of it.

"Do you remember the pizza freezer?" El asked, her hand on his shoulder.

"What?"

"When I was trying to help Max, and Vecna had me. What you said."

"Yeah, I remember…what does that have to do with anything?"

"None of it was true, or it was just what you thought I wanted to hear—" El said, not unkindly. They had talked about it a few days later. They'd been broken up for over a year at that point, but he'd tried his best to dredge up those old feelings, thinking it was what she needed since Dustin wasn't there. "Tell him, but tell him the truth. Just talk to him."

Mike's eyes were wide. Will was suffering in his own maze of torturous memories, and they were running out of time. This is what Henry wanted.

Finally, Mike nodded. "Okay. Okay," he said again, buying him time to gather his words. "Um…"

"Mike."

"Right," Mike pushed the hair out of Will's face, just studying his features as he watched the boy fight whatever internal struggle was plaguing him. Mike clenched his jaw. He had never been good with words, never knowing the right thing to say, but when he saw another tear slip from Will's eye it all came spilling out. ,

"You keep asking me to stay, or saying that you don't want to be alone—terrified that I'll leave you—which is probably the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard because there isn't anything that could make me leave you. I will never leave, and if you can't stay, then I will follow wherever you go.

"Because…because I love you, so goddamn much it terrifies me. It terrifies me because I've already lost you once, and that means that it could happen again. I basically put my life on hold when you were gone because none of it seemed worth it anymore. Not without you. But I love you anyway, and I always will."

Will's eyes squeezed shut even tighter, like he was fighting the words.

Mike brushed another tear with his thumb as he continued. "I've known since I was six years old that I would rather watch the world fall apart than be without you. And none of the things that you've been through—none of the shit that's been done to you, changes any of that.

"But I need you to come to me now. Okay? I need you to open your eyes. We're going to get through this. You're going to get everything you've ever wanted because you deserve it. You deserve to feel safe and warm and happy. And I-I'm going to make sure that happens.

"Just open your eyes, please."

Mike waited.

Will's eyes started to open, and the few drops of water that had managed to hang on dripped down his cheeks.

Mike glanced at his bitten and chewed lips, and for a second, he leaned in before pivoting and kissing his forehead.

"Mike?" Will whispered.

"I'm right here. Always here."

The ground started to shake around them. "Mike, we need—"

"I know. I know," he responded to El. "Will, you have to get us out of here. Back to the memory where Max is hiding."

"I don't know how to do that," Will answered while sniffling and attempting to get his breathing back under control.

Mike looked over his shoulder to where El was standing, nodding for her to try and help.

"You have to think about what it is you're looking for. You don't know Max, so think of Henry, of the place you went when you wanted to talk to him."

Will nodded, though he looked hesitant. The quaking ground urged them all along. Mike took his hand and directed him to the shed door.

"You can do it," Mike said.

Will reached for the handle.

"William."

Mike squeezed his hand. "Don't listen."

Will's trembling hand met the handle and twisted, his eyes closed once again.

The light spilled from the open space. The sound of birds chirping blew through the subtle breeze as they all stepped into the sunlight. He did it.

***

Nancy

Nancy sat in the dimly lit cabin with Jonathan's hand resting across her lap as they watched their siblings fight through whatever was happening on a different plane of existence. Her jaw ached from the way she had it shut tightly.

"They're going to be okay," Jonathan said, to which Nancy offered a tight smile and a nod.

"You know," Jonathan continued. "I used to think that I loved Will the most, I mean, he's my little brother, but Mike…"

Nancy felt her features relax as a genuine smile crossed her face. Her gaze found Mike's hand that was tangled in Will's hair. She had watched for years as Mike fell in love with Will's ghost. Having him back hadn't seemed to dull or shift any of the feelings that he'd poured into the very idea of him—the memory. If anything, they'd only intensified. Growing into something protective. Possessive.

It might have been an issue if Will hadn't been the same way.

When they were younger, so often was Mike quick to anger, to annoyance, but never with Will. As though he were completely incapable of being anything other than gentle and accommodating to the other boy, and it seemed that nothing had changed.

"I know what you mean," she whispered. The conversation only meant for the two of them.

"Will needs that," Jonathan said. "He needs all the love he can get. Even if it's a little intense at times."

Nancy's smile widened.

"Do you think they'll ever figure it out?" Jonathan asked.

"I think they already have. Or at least Mike has. Will might need a little more time, but I've seen the way he returns Mike's gaze."

Nancy shifted her attention back to the two sleeping on the couch. Yeah, they would figure it out.