Archive of Our Own

October, 1985

The sky is a faded blue, and there’s a golden glow casting shadows around them, but it doesn’t feel like home to Will.

The rusty, old swingset in a small, abandoned playground doesn’t have any of the yellow or blue tones that were hallmarks of Will’s childhood. It doesn’t have any heart, because it does not hold memories of a happier time.

There’s no one laughing beside him. No one who’s asking to be his friend. No one who protects Will from the bullies or things that frighten him the most. He’s alone.

Well, not entirely alone.

“You are thinking loudly.”

Will lifts his head.

He looks to the person who sits on the swing to his right. As Will’s eyes meet a pair of rounder, unassuming ones, he tries not to think about how they’re the wrong shade of brown. Too light.

“Huh?”

“Your thoughts,” his sister, Jane, says. “They are loud.”

Will isn’t sure how to answer Ele — Jane. He needs to remind himself sometimes of her actual name. It’s easier when they’re in school. Perhaps because people would look at them like they have actually lost their minds if he referred to her as a number.

But at home, Will sometimes finds himself slipping into old habits. Jane said it doesn’t bother her — “I don’t mind ‘El.’” — but that doesn’t sit right with Will either. “El” was a nickname that was created by Mike when they didn’t know anything about Jane. That was before she found Will and even longer before she and Will became de facto siblings.

Those twelve year olds are unrecognizable now.

“Sorry?” Will says, unsure how to respond.

Jane shakes her head. She pushes back slightly, using the ground as leverage, and lets herself fall forward. When Jane swings backwards again, her feet catch on the ground before she can fully lift them. She hasn’t quite gotten the hang of swinging yet.

Will watches silently as Jane pushes off the yellow grass again. He wonders if she is trying to imagine using her supernatural abilities to do something that should come naturally to anyone their age.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“About, what?” Will asks.

“Your thoughts,” she repeats. “Unless … Unless you prefer Jonathan.”

No, Jonathan is out of the question. Will isn’t sure what happened to his older brother or what sick, higher power decided to make him turn into a stoner, but he doesn’t recognize him. He’s not the same brother who Will could go to when he needed an ear or reassurances. He is not even the same Jonathan who knew when Will needed him without Will seeking out his help.

Nothing is the same here in Lenora.

“You don’t want to hear them,” Will murmurs. “They’re depressing.”

“Depressing?”

Right. Will struggles to find the words.

“Dark. Really sad,” he explains.

Pathetic, a voice taunts him. Like you.

The voice sounds like his father, Lonnie.

“Hey.” Jane stops moving and reaches out to grab his hand. Will looks at her smaller one that anchors them both in place. “You remember what Mom said? About being brother and sister.”

Will’s lip twitches, but the amusement doesn’t reach his eyes.

“We share things,” Will replies. “We protect each other.”

The problem is, Will sharing his feelings isn’t an option. Not when it would open the door to him admitting that he doesn’t want to share but claim something much bigger. Something that is not his to claim. Namely, Jane’s boyfriend.

No, Will thinks. Mike is much more than that.

Jane squeezes his hand again, bringing him back to reality.

“I’m homesick. I miss Hawkins,” Will adds hastily as clarification. “This playground reminds me of one from when I was little.”

“How little?”

Not the question that Will was expecting, but it’s easier to answer than any other that Jane might ask him. He offers her a slight smile.

“Five years old.” He uses his other hand to illustrate his size. “When I was this tall.”

“Wow,” Jane laughs. Will snorts. “It must be a special playground.”

“It was,” Will says, softly. “It …”

Changed his life? Saved his life? How does Will explain to Jane — someone that he considers his sister despite barely knowing each other in the grand scheme of things — the complexities of that playground and how all roads lead back to it?

Suddenly, it hits him.

“It’s like Hopper’s cabin.” Jane’s expression shifts. “It felt safe.”

Jane’s eyes grow glassy. She nods in understanding and, to Will’s surprise, moves without releasing his hand. He doesn’t pull away either.

“Maybe you can show me when we go back to visit?”

A lump rises in Will’s throat. He nods, trying to ignore the way that his eyes burn.

“Y-Yeah,” Will manages. “Maybe.”

***

November, 1987

“I will find him. I will bring him home.”

Jane stands firm on her promise to Joyce.

She found Will long ago, and she will find him again. He belongs with them. Not wherever Henry has hidden him this time. When she opens her eyes, she has returned to The Void.

Looking up ahead, Jane sees Will lying on the bed that they moved him to in her father’s cabin. She rushes forward until she reaches him.

“Will,” Jane says, urgently. “It’s Jane. I’m here. I need you to show me where you are.”

A blaring noise fills the nothingness. Jane looks around in alarm, watching as her surroundings take shape and a new scene forms. She is in a bedroom.

Will’s bedroom.

Except, it isn’t the bedroom that she knows from firsthand experience. It looks like the one from the Byers’ old house, but the room clearly belongs to a little boy.

There is a loud crash and Jane whips around, eyes now fixed on a closed door.

She suddenly hears a whimper. Jane turns again, but she doesn’t see anyone.

“You always do this!”

“Yeah, Joyce? What exactly do I ‘always’ do?”

More crashing noises. The next whimper is louder. Hesitantly, Jane falls into a squat and feels a great lurch in her chest. A boy is curled up under the bed with his hands over his ears and tears rolling down his pale cheeks.

“Lonnie, stop it! Think of the boys!”

A resounding smack and cry of pain causes the boy to gasp. His eyes open wide. The familiarity of them makes Jane lose her footing and land on her backside.

“Will,” she breathes.

“Mommy,” little-Will sobs.

All Jane wants to do is reach out and hold his hand, but she knows it won’t have the desired effect. She hears the door open and rushes to her feet. Her first instinct is to protect little-Will from the monster on the other side of the door.

All she sees is another young boy, no older than nine years old. He rushes in, closing the door behind him, and immediately falls to his knees.

“Will. Will, I’m here,” little-Jonathan says, urgently. “Did … Are you hurt?”

Little-Will shakes his head, but his tears haven’t lessened. Jane sees how both boys tremble, terrified of what waits just outside of the bedroom.

“It’ll be over soon,” little-Jonathan says, his voice cracking. “He can barely stand up straight.”

“He’s hurting mommy,” little-Will sobs.

“Mom … Mom’s strong, bud.”

Jane hears the waver in little-Jonathan’s voice. Like he believes his words, but he’s not sure it’s enough to make a real difference when it comes to their mother’s safety.

“She’s got us,” little-Jonathan adds. “It’s three versus one. Those are good odds, right?”

Little-Will looks doubtful, making his older brother sigh.

“Scootch over.”

“You’re too big,” little-Will protests.

“Don’t care,” little-Jonathan says. “You need me; I’m here. You know that.”

The voices are becoming distorted. As Jane tries to hear what they’re saying, something new catches her eye. Wetness that shouldn’t be there; specifically, rain. Instead of raining outside, Jane watches as it trickles down the bedroom walls.

It leaks profusely from Will’s closet.

Walking over, Jane opens the door and steps inside. A few seconds later, she blinks and sees that she’s outside. She stares at a teenage Will and Mike who are currently arguing on Mike’s front porch. Their voices are raised, just able to be heard over the teeming rain.

“You’re ruining our party!”

“That’s not true!” Mike protests.

“Really?” Will demands. “Where’s Dustin right now?” Mike hesitates. “See? You don’t know and you don’t even care, and obviously he doesn’t either. And I don’t blame him! You’re destroying everything, and for what? So you can swap spit with some stupid girl?”

Oh. It’s the summer that she and Mike dated. Jane supposes it was after she dumped his ass, because they spent every day with each other before that point.

“El’s not stupid!” Mike snaps. “It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!”

“Mike,” Jane sighs, disappointment laced in her tone.

The look on Will’s face is awful. He looks crushed, breathing heavily, and clearly unsure about how he should react. There are so many conflicting emotions, but what really hits Jane is how much he looks like that boy under the bed.

The one who just wants the pain to stop.

Regret overwhelms Mike’s features, further emphasized by his next words.

“I’m not trying to be a jerk, okay?”

Not okay, but Jane doesn’t hear what he offers as an explanation for his hurtful words. The rain is still pouring hard on them, but Jane looks up and realizes it is only over the Wheelers’ house. Otherwise, the sky is blue and like a typical sunny day.

Jane looks around, trying to find where she is supposed to go next, and notices that the mailbox isn’t actually the Wheelers’ mailbox. It’s a tall pole with a ball and rope attached to it, whipping in circles as if of its own accord.

The scene shifts once more.

Kids dart around her. She watches as they chase each other and smack each other’s arms. The laughter suggests that it is a game. All in good fun.

A normal part of childhood.

When Jane looks over at the swingset, she sees Will.

She has gone backwards in time. This version of Will isn’t much older than the boy underneath the bed. A year older, at most, but maybe not that much. He’s swinging with his head hung low. Like he is trying to blend in with his surroundings.

A little body scampers past Jane. He has dark, wavy hair and a confidence that little-Will doesn’t possess. All Jane needs is to see his eyes to know him.

“Mike,” Jane whispers.

Jane watches little-Will look up and to his left as little-Mike sits on the other swing. Little-Mike has a bright, hopeful smile on his face.

“Do you want to be friends?” little-Mike asks.

A smile spreads across little-Will’s face. He nods eagerly as they begin swinging in sync. Jane watches as they compete with each other to see who can swing higher. She hears the laughter coming from them both, loud and bright.

“It must be a special playground.”

“It was.”

Jane had forgotten about that conversation in Lenora until this precise moment. Her eyes go wide and her lips part in understanding. Will didn’t miss Hawkins.

He missed Mike.

Jane looks around, trying to see if there’s anything out of place. This is a memory that she’d expect Will to hide in if he were in control, but he’s not. He’s somewhere else and trapped at Henry’s mercy.

Only, it is the first happy memory that she has landed in, and that cannot be a coincidence. There is no such thing as coincidences with Henry.

Jane furrows her brow at a group of girls who are playing nearby. They are skipping rope, which is innocuous enough. Except, Jane realizes in alarm, it is no longer a normal rope.

It’s vines. They twist and slither, moving away from the girls and toward the swingset.

Jane watches as they approach, turning as they direct themselves toward little-Will. The scene has already begun changing, laughter distorted like the Byers brothers’ voices were before.

Horror grips Jane as the vines twist around little-Will until they swallow him whole. It’s only once the sunlight is gone and Jane is surrounded by spores and darkness that she sees her brother.

His cheeks are caked with blood. The blood, she realizes, came directly from his eyes. Henry’s handiwork. Jane runs over to him.

“Will. I’m here. Wake up.”

Jane cannot even see if his chest is rising and falling. Knowing what she needs to do, she lifts her arm to release him from Henry’s hold. She makes a sharp motion down, ripping the vines, and seeing his head loll forward. Jane uses her other hand to rip the rest of the vines until he falls to the ground. Jane barely manages to react quickly enough to break his fall.

Will is breathing. It’s shallow, but it’s noticeable. Jane holds onto him tight.

“Will, you need to wake up,” she urges him. “We … We’re all here. Your mom’s waiting for you at home. So is Mike. They’re both worried.”

So am I.

It’s gradual, but Jane sees when Will starts to stir. She gently strokes his hair like she has seen Joyce do in the past. Jane used to think it was meant to comfort the receiver, Will, but she now suspects it was as much for their mother’s benefit.

A way to reassure her that he’s still here after too many near misses.

“Jane,” Will gasps, jerking forward and upright.

“I’m here. You’re okay, Will.” Will’s eyes fill with tears, mixing and smearing the blood as they start to fall. “Henry won’t be able to get to you.”

“You … Don’t know that,” Will chokes out. “He’s …” Jane holds him tight as Will’s breathing gets more erratic. “He’s everywhere. He always … always finds me.”

Will clings to her tighter. Jane wonders if he can feel how hard her heart is pounding, because there’s definitely some truth to his words. Henry is locked onto Will. She isn’t sure how or why, but it’s undeniable. Henry chose Will all those years ago, and he’s still choosing him now.

“I know you have powers now,” Jane begins. “You tapped into the Hive Mind. That’s why you’re here. Henry is punishing you.”

“It’s … You’re saying it’s my fault?”

“No,” Jane says, frustrated that she cannot convey her point. “This time, you need to tap into yourself. To get out of here. Part of you is still connected, and Henry is counting on that. You need to break free, Will.”

“How?” Will asks, desperately. “How do I do that?”

The answer comes so naturally to Jane despite not knowing it before she says it.

“Remember who you are,” Jane says. “Do it for that boy on the playground.” Will’s eyes grow wide. Jane gives him a weak smile. “He just wanted to feel safe.”

Jane knocks, just like her father instructed, and light pours into the deprivation tank. She sits up and breathes heavily, her eyes darting around the cabin.

“Did you find him?” Mike asks, urgently. “Is he …?”

“He’s awake!” Joyce shouts from the other room.

Jane lets her father help her out of the tank. She rushes with the others to see for herself that Will is awake and lucid. Jane exhales when she sees him sitting upright, despite his pale and drawn features.

“How did you find me?”

Will’s voice is quiet. Apprehensive. Like he already knows the answer, but needs to hear it.

“Your memories.”

The look of resignation on his face almost looks like a warning.

“Which memories?”

“What does it matter?” Mike chimes in. “You scared the hell out of us.”

“It wasn’t his fault.” Jane feels three sets of eyes on her, but she is only focused on Will. His jaw tightens while his fists clench and unclench. “Henry was proving a point.”

“Which is what?” her father asks.

Jane’s eyes meet Will’s.

“That he is in control. Except, he’s not,” Jane emphasizes. “You led me to where you were. First through the bad, then the good. Something Henry lost a long time ago, if he ever had it.”

“Baby, you’re shaking,” Joyce says.

She goes to wrap her arms around him, but Will shrugs them off.

“I … I can’t,” he rasps.

“Will, what is it?” Mike asks. He moves around Jane until he’s on the other side of the bed. He falls into a squat in front of Will, whose eyes are as wide as saucers. “What do you need?”

“Sp-Space.”

Will tears out of the room, bumping shoulders with Jane and flinching violently when he does. Her father moves aside just in time for Will not to collide with him. The bathroom door slams shut behind Will, but retching sounds can be clearly heard.

Worriedly, Joyce rises off the bed.

“I should make sure he’s okay.”

“Don’t.”

“Jane,” her father says, sharply.

She glowers at him, unmoved by his disapproval.

“Will says he needs space,” Jane snaps. “Do you know where I found him? Stuck against a wall, covered in vines.”

“Oh, my God,” Joyce breathes. “Like before.”

“Was it …?” her father begins. Jane waits. “Hooked up to him?”

“Hooked up?” Jane repeats, uncomprehending.

“This … thing,” his father fumbles. “A tube. In his mouth.”

Mike looks visibly green. Jane shakes her head.

“Henry needed him conscious,” Jane says. “He was looking through Will’s mind. I know that, because he was bleeding from his eyes.”

“Will was?” Joyce clarifies. Jane nods. “How do we help him?”

“Listen when he tells you what he needs.” Again, the answer seems more obvious as it leaves Jane’s lips than it would if she had spent any amount of time thinking about it. “Henry wants to control him. Will’s body was used as his first vessel. You do not just get over that.”

Jane knows that she hasn’t, but not with Henry. Papa didn’t use her as a vessel; he made her into a weapon. He stole her mother, her childhood, her innocence, and he continues to hold a significant part of her even though he’s gone.

It will never make sense to Jane how she can mourn the man as much as she still mourns the suffering that he caused her and so many others, including Henry.

Jane walks out of the bedroom, wandering toward the bathroom.

“Are you okay?” Jane asks gently through it.

“Don’t come in,” comes Will’s panicked voice.

“I won’t,” Jane promises. “I am right outside. No one is coming in unless you want us to.”

There’s a long pause. Then:

“Th-Thanks.”

A slight smile lifts Jane’s lips.

“You’re welcome.

***

There isn’t time to discuss everything.

Not when the Demodogs hunt down Max, resulting in her, Lucas, Robin, and Vickie barely escaping with their lives. It is non-stop after that point, but Jane knows that Will is carrying something heavy. A burden that no one can lift from his shoulders, even her.

But something seems to lift at least part of it. Jane sees it when he, Lucas, Dustin, and Mike emerge from The Squawk right before her father arrives to bring them all to the MAC-Z. She sees how the boys huddle closer to him than usual, reassuring Will with pats on his shoulder and ruffling his hair.

Even from a distance, Jane sees a softer-than-usual expression on Mike’s face. When she turns away, she meets Jonathan’s eye. He is also watching the group with deep concentration.

“Do you know what that’s about?” Jonathan asks.

Jane shakes her head. They watch as Will walks toward them. When he notices them studying him, he suddenly looks conflicted.

“Everything all right?” Jonathan asks, glancing at the other three who are further back.

“Y-Yeah.” Jonathan raises an eyebrow. “We were just talking. I, uh …” Will looks nervously at the others’ in the distance. “I wasn’t trying to leave you guys out. I just couldn’t say what … I needed to do it without so many eyes on me. And I’ve been holding back on them for so long that I … not that they’re more important than you guys, I just …”

“Hey, hey,” Jonathan interjects. “No explanation needed.”

His voice is softer, more concerned. The voice that he reserves only for Will. Jane watches as he puts a hand on each of Will’s shoulders. Will’s eyes find hers, and Jane offers him what she hopes is a reassuring smile.

“Jonathan is right,” Jane says. “You’re our brother. We love you.”

Will’s eyes, which she now notices are slightly red, fill with fresh tears.

“Do you want to hang back?” Jonathan asks, worriedly. “No one will blame you.”

Will shakes his head vehemently, wiping under his eyes.

“No,” he says. “I need to see Vecna’s head on a platter.”

“Well, Mom is bringing her axe,” Jonathan jokes.

Will’s laugh is watery, but it seems to put Jonathan more at ease.

“I’m okay,” Will reassures them.

Jonathan squeezes his shoulder. They all see the van approaching The Squawk from up the road. Jonathan looks between his two younger siblings.

“When this is over,” Jonathan says, “there’ll be plenty of time to talk. Not just as a family, but the three of us. It’ll be easier. Normal.” He glances at Jane. “Right?”

Guilt twists in Jane’s gut. Guilt that she has tried silencing for the past day.

She smiles tightly and nods.

***

January, 1988

Forgiveness might be easier in death.

Jane’s plan did not work and, in the end, it didn’t need to work for her to break the cycle. An eleventh hour re-appearance, poor wording aside, from Dr. Sam Owens saw to it. Jane isn’t entirely sure how he worked his own brand of “magic” this time, but it saved her life.

The life that she almost sacrificed. Which, now, everyone knows was her plan.

The wreckage of her almost-actions is more profound and farther-reaching than the Upside Down’s implosion. Her father can hardly look at her, his anger and grief spilling out of him in unpredictable intervals.

Joyce told Jane that she would try and get through to him, but Jane isn’t optimistic. He lost a daughter once when it was out of his control. Jane took that control away from him again. It nearly separated them for the rest of his life.

Her friends aren’t much better. Max, unsurprisingly, is the most understanding of them all, but she is still stunned by how close Jane came to disappearing. Mike was, as expected, livid like her father. Jane had counted on their break-up from over a year ago to soften some of Mike’s rougher edges.

She made the mistake of suggesting as much.

“We are no longer a couple.”

“Why the fuck would that matter?” Mike screams. “We were friends. That love matters to me, too. I thought it mattered to you.”

“It did … it does,” Jane says, desperately. “This wasn’t an easy choice for me, Mike.”

“It wasn’t a choice at all! It shouldn’t have even crossed your mind!” he hollers. “Forget about the rest of us. What about you? You deserve better than that!”

It was tough, but Jane has handled a lot of tough things in her relatively short life. She would get through this twist like all of the other ones. Preferably with her best friend and her brother by her side. She has Max, and that helps.

But then there’s Will.

Will doesn’t talk. Or, if he does talk, it’s not to Jane. The last time that the two of them were truly in sync was when he and Jane fought Henry, shoulder-to-shoulder, bringing him to his knees for the last time.

Jane watched as Will snapped Henry’s arm clean off his body, severing his grip on Will once and for all. Will watched as she delivered the near-final blow before their mother came in to finish the job in the most stunning way imaginable.

They walked away from it stronger. As a family.

Now, her family is in shambles.

“He just needs time,” Max reasons. Jane looks doubtfully at her. “It was traumatic.”

For all of us. Max doesn’t need to say it for Jane to understand.

“I miss him,” Jane says, softly. “We understood each other.”

“I bet he still does.”

“What?”

“From what I’ve gathered over the years, life didn’t become hard for Will when the Demogorgon took him,” Max says. “It was hard before that.”

Jane remembers the little boy hiding under the bed. How grief-stricken Will looked as his best friend yelled those cruel words at him. All Will wanted to do was to go back to the day that he and Mike met, because that is where he felt most safe.

“What you almost did … a lot of people think about doing that. For a lot of reasons,” Max says. “Ending their life.” A chill runs down Jane’s spine. “Maybe I’m projecting, but I’m pretty sure he and I get that better than most. Hopper probably does, too. It’s a lot scarier when it’s someone you care about instead of yourself.”

Anxiously, Jane asks, “You don’t still feel that way, do you?”

“No,” Max says, softly. “I have bad days, and worse days, but I’m better about recognizing them and accepting help. When you were in California …” Max shakes her head. “I never want to go back to that place. And not just because Vecna used it against me.”

So Jane tries to give Will the space that she preached he needed a few months ago. She waits and she watches. Jane swallows what she wants to say to him, and she lowers her gaze when his blank stare hurts too much.

It’s Mike who reaches out to her.

“This can’t continue,” Mike says.

“Excuse me?”

“This silence between you and Will. Will and everyone,” Mike says. “I … It’s like he’s not even with us when he’s with us. He’s just a shell.”

“I don’t know what you expect me to do, Mike,” Jane says. They are standing in her bedroom, with him near the door and her in front of the window. “I have tried talking to him. I have tried giving him space. I have asked Max to see if she can figure out what he is thinking.”

“And?”

“And she says the same thing. Will isn’t Will.”

“You don’t think Vecna is still …” Mike swallows. “Pulling the strings?”

“What?”

“Making him pull away from us,” Mike snaps. “Torturing us and Will in a new way.”

“Henry is gone, Mike,” Jane says. “So is the Mind Flayer.”

“Are you sure?” Mike demands.

Frustrated, Jane huffs, “What?”

“It didn’t seem strange that when everything was ‘destroyed’, Will didn’t flinch?” Jane stares at Mike. “You didn’t see when the military roasted the Demogorgons. It was … I still wake up and hear his screams. It was like they lit up his body.”

“So how the hell,” Mike continues, “did he survive if the rest of it is gone? And if by some miracle you’re right and he did … Did he detach himself too far? Is he buried so deep within himself that even he’s not able to climb back out or find the way?”

Jane listens to all of these questions, feeling more and more uneasy with each word. She thinks back to what she told Will when she found him.

“This time, you need to tap into yourself. To get out of here. Part of you is still connected, and Henry is counting on that. You need to break free, Will.”

“How?” Will asks, desperately. “How do I do that?”

The answer comes so naturally to Jane despite not knowing it before she says it.

“Remember who you are,” Jane says. “Do it for that boy on the playground.” Will’s eyes grow wide. Jane gives him a weak smile. “He just wanted to feel safe.”

“Come with me,” she says.

Jane crosses the bedroom and opens the door. She hears Mike following her despite not looking behind to check.

“Where?”

“If you’re right about this,” Jane says, “we will need some help.”

***

The Party, sans Will, looks at Jane and Mike like they have lost their minds.

“You want to, what?” Dustin says.

“You didn’t hear them the first time?” Jane’s father says. He sounds angry. Excessively so. “She wants to rebuild the goddamn tank.”

“That is not what I said,” Jane says, losing her patience. “I need one. Not that one.”

“Oh, well,” her father scoffs.

The spark of irritation becomes an inferno.

“I’m sorry,” she snaps. “Is Will not worth saving?”

“Don’t!” her father booms, startling several people. “Don’t.”

“Hop,” Joyce murmurs, trying to steady him with a hand on his arm.

He shrugs it off and storms to the other side of the Wheelers’ basement. Jane’s eyes linger on him for a moment before refocusing on the others.

“There’s a catch.”

“This ought to be good,” Lucas mutters.

Max elbows him hard, causing him to grunt.

“What’s the catch?” Joyce sighs.

“When I tap into Will’s mind,” Jane prefaces, “Mike is coming with me.”

Everyone, Mike included, stares at her in disbelief.

“You didn’t mention this!” Mike says.

Jane raises her eyebrows.

“Are you saying you won’t come?”

Lucas coughs and that time is smacked by Max and Dustin. The rest of them ignore him.

“No, I mean — yes, obviously I’ll come to help Will. I — I mean, I’ll be there,” Mike says, sounding flustered. “I’m just surprised.”

“Good for you. Try being mystified,” her father says, finally speaking again. He stares at her. “How exactly do you plan on making this happen?”

“It worked with Max.”

“With Kali’s help.”

“I know it’s a long shot,” Jane says, frustrated. “But it is our best chance to figure out what’s going on with —”

“No.”

Everyone turns to face Jonathan. He has remained silent, standing there almost like a pillar in the corner of the Wheelers’ basement. It won’t be long until he leaves Hawkins for New York but, until that day, he is still Will’s fiercest protector.

For the first time, Jane falters.

“… What?”

“No,” Jonathan repeats. “I want my brother back as much … more than anyone. But it won’t be at his expense. You going in is one thing. You’ve done it. Mike goddamn Wheeler isn’t getting a front-row seat to Will’s most personal memories.”

Something flickers in Mike’s eyes. Jane sees a similar understanding pass between Dustin and Lucas. She looks at Max for an explanation, but the redhead just shakes her head.

Mike talks next anyway.

“Jonathan, it’s …” Mike blows out a breath. “It isn’t a problem.”

“I don’t think you understand me.”

“I think I do,” Mike interjects. “And we’re both talking around it for the same reason. Out of respect for your brother.”

Jonathan opens and then closes his mouth. He continues staring at Mike as the others look between them uneasily, but Mike doesn’t waver. He hardly even blinks.

That is how Jane knows it’s as serious for him as it is for her.

“You haven’t explained how any of this is gonna work,” Jonathan eventually says.

Jane exhales. She shakes out her fingers at her sides.

“I know I haven’t … earned it recently,” Jane begins. She looks around the room and straightens her back. “But I’m going to need you to trust me.”

***

Trust is hard-earned, but desperation is a powerful motivator.

Now, as she opens her eyes in The Void, she nearly cries with relief when she sees Mike there and staring back at her. Mike takes in their surroundings, or lack thereof, in amazement.

“How?”

Jane shakes her head.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I think I was desperate enough.”

Mike nods. He continues scanning the nothingness.

“So …”

“There he is.”

Mike turns to follow her gaze. Will is standing in his bedroom. There is a painting suspended by nothing and a desk underneath it. He stares at the painting as he twists one of the pendants on his necklace that Jonathan gave him for Christmas.

“What is he doing?” Mike asks.

Jane isn’t sure. She walks toward him, water splashing around her feet, and ignores its taunting echo. A reminder of how much silence has surrounded Will since her betrayal.

Your fault, the voice in her head mocks her.

It sounds like Henry.

Before Jane can open her mouth and speak, Will whips around and looks her in the eye. He grabs her wrist with a manic expression. Terrified, Jane tries pulling back as Mike yelps.

“Get out.”

Will shoves her and, colliding with Mike, she’s falling. They’re both falling. Falling … falling …

They land in an old shed.

“Still think I’m crazy?” Mike says, shrilly.

Sharply, Jane asks, “Where are we?” Mike splutters, but she ignores him. “Mike.”

“I don’t — The Byers’ old shed,” Mike realizes. “We weren’t allowed in here, but I saw Lonnie go inside once to grab …”

Mike’s voice trails off as his gaze lands on several rifles. Jane swallows.

Neither one of them gets a chance to say anything before the door bursts open.

“Shit,” Mike breathes.

It’s a younger Will. The Will that Jane remembers meeting in The Void when she told him that Joyce was coming to rescue him. They watch as a petrified Will runs over to the table to grab one of the rifles, plus some ammunition.

“I … I never knew he could use one,” Mike whispers. “He never suggested it with Vecna.”

Jane isn’t sure why that in any way surprises Mike. It’s clear what is about to happen. It’s even more clear that Will doesn’t want to do what he’s about to attempt.

Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should have to do it.

“Can’t you …?”

“It’s a memory, Mike,” Jane interjects. “It happened. If you want to help Will, look for what is wrong with the memory. That will show us where we need to go —”

“There.” Mike points to the back wall. “There should be a window there.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Mike stresses. “The second window is missing.”

Jane walks past a frightened Will, still trembling as he waits for the attack that is sure to come any moment now. She presses her hand on the wall and there’s some give to it.

Jane pushes harder until her hand actually starts to go through it, similar to when she escaped the Upside Down and returned to Hawkins as a young girl. Once it finally gives way, she steps forward and motions for Mike to follow her.

“Mike,” she stresses.

He is looking reluctantly at a young Will. Jane understands the urge to stay, she does, but there is a much bigger goal. Getting distracted in each memory won’t help anyone, including Will.

Mike does finally follow her and their next destination is just as dark. It’s raining, like it was in Will’s other memory that Jane visited, and Mike tenses beside her.

“It’s Castle Byers,” Mike murmurs. “But I don’t know when …”

The sheet to the fort blows aside, giving them a clear view of Will. He’s older than he was in the last memory. As Jane looks closer, she realizes that he’s wearing recognizable clothes.

“After your fight,” Jane says.

“Wh-What?”

“When you said he doesn’t like girls.”

Jane looks at him just in time to see Mike blanching.

“He told you about that?”

“He doesn’t know I know,” Jane replies, looking at fourteen-year-old Will. “I passed through it when I was looking for him last time.”

They watch as Will throws down his comic in frustration. He looks around and breathes heavily as the storm rages outside of his sanctuary. Some time passes before he reaches to pick up a rain-soaked photo.

“Stupid,” Will whispers, barely getting out the word. Despite being drenched from head to toe, Jane knows when it’s no longer just raindrops on his cheeks. “So stupid.”

There’s a pained noise to her right when younger Will rips the picture in half and throws it to the floor. There’s an intake of breath from her when he starts ripping drawings and other things that he had collected over the years off the walls.

Suddenly, he’s outside of Castle Byers. The two of them watch as he takes a bat to the sign and then the rest of the fort. When Jane looks at Mike, there are clear tracks on each cheek.

“I thought …” Mike makes a painful wheezing sound. “I thought the storm destroyed it. We never spoke about that day. Everything went nuts after that.”

That seems to be the throughline across all of Will’s most painful memories. Something bigger is always happening, and he’s suffering in silence as it does. Something that requires the attention that deserves to be placed, at least once, solely onto him.

“I know it’s hard, Mike,” Jane says, “but we need to focus. This could go on for …”

The ground shakes beneath their feet. She grips onto his arm and stretches out her other arm to try and steady herself. She looks around sharply, trying to find the source of the disruption.

“Was that another memory?”

“No,” Jane says, slowly.

“I said, get out!”

“Move!” Jane shouts, yanking him to the side.

They narrowly miss a tree falling where they were just standing.

“He’s fighting back.”

“Who?” Mike shouts.

Jane grabs him by the shirt and they take off running.

“Will … the Mind Flayer … whatever is behind this!” Jane yells. “We’re not supposed to be here. We’re not supposed to notice anything is wrong. That’s the whole …”

Mike pulls Jane back just before a van careening down the road can, theoretically, collide with them. Jane barely gets a moment to catch her breath before finding herself and Mike sitting in that precise van.

“Can I … show you something?”

“This was on our way to find you,” Mike says, unnecessarily. “Will … He gave me your painting and a pep talk.”

“My painting?” Jane repeats. Mike nods, glancing at her. “I don’t have a painting.”

“The one you commissioned.”

“The one I, what?”

“Did you paint this?” past-Mike asks in awe.

“Y-Yeah,” past-Will says, smiling. “Yeah, I mean …” His smile fades just enough to notice if you are paying attention. “I mean, El asked me to. She commissioned it basically. I mean, she told me what to draw.”

“He’s lying to you, Mike.” Jane looks at her ex-boyfriend. “He’s not even looking at you.”

Mike looks like he might actually pass out, which is exactly what they cannot afford to have happen right now. She jostles his shoulder until he looks at her.

“Focus.”

“I’m trying,” Mike hisses. “How would you feel if you realized everything you ever thought you knew, everything you believed about someone you care about, was dead wrong?”

Jane stares at him like he has sprouted a second head.

Is he joking?

She’ll smack him later, she decides.

“… Without heart, we’d all fall apart,” past-Will says, earnestly. “Even El. Especially El.”

“Listen to him,” Jane urges him.

“I already know —”

“No,” Jane hisses. “Really listen to what he’s saying. He was not talking about me.”

“When you’re different … sometimes … you feel like a mistake. But you make her feel like she’s not a mistake at all,” past-Will says through tears. “Like she’s better for being different. And that gives her the courage to fight on.”

“Mike, look at him,” Jane urges. “He was not only giving you the painting.”

The pained expression is back on Mike’s face. His jaw works hard, threatening to lose the fight of holding back his tears. Jane needs him to feel what he is so afraid of confronting.

“So, yeah. El needs you, Mike. And she always will.”

Always will.

Always Will.

“Mike,” Jane whispers. He looks at her with glassy eyes. “You see it, right?”

Mike continues staring at her as the memory-van shakes around them.

“You see that Will is in love with you.”

There’s a long pause.

“Was,” Mike croaks.

“Mike!”

He shakes his head hard.

“He … He told us before we went to fight Vecna that he’s gay,” Mike admits. “He said there was this guy he had feelings for, but he knew nothing would ever come of it. He never said …”

“You didn’t pay attention,” Jane says, knowing there isn’t time to be gentle about it. “This is not subtle, Mike. He gave you a D&D painting and spoke about your heart. What do I know about D&D? I told you I didn’t know what Will was painting.”

“I’m not denying this!” Mike says, raising his voice. “But he doesn’t feel this way any …”

“How do you know?” Jane demands. “How can you possibly know that? He said nothing would happen, not that he was over you. Look.”

Jane points at past-Will who is facing the window, muffling his sobs with his hand. She glances at past-Mike and sees how even he glances at past-Will before looking down at the painting.

“You do not get over those strong feelings like …” Jane snaps her fingers. “And we will only find him if you truly focus. If you …” It hits Jane. “If you do what you did in that pizza shop. You need to talk to him and hope that he hears you.”

“I …”

“You and me … we care about each other. We always have,” Jane presses on. “But Will’s the one who sees us best. It is why you and I did not work as a couple. There is so much that we cannot seem to understand about each other.”

“If you let yourself see him,” Jane adds, leaning forward. “Really see him and his pain and what he has kept hidden all these years, it might be enough to get us to where the real Will is hiding from whatever is controlling him.”

Mike swallows painfully and, after a beat, nods. His breath rattles as he exhales.

“Will, I’m … I’m so sorry,” Mike begins.

His voice cracks on the last word. Jane also notices how his eyes dart back and forth between past-Will and the opposite window. Almost like he isn’t sure if he should be addressing the Will who needed to hear these words in the first place or the Will who is relying on them now.

“I’ve been such an idiot. No.” Mike shakes his head. “I’ve been selfish, because there were all these signs. As usual, I just ignored them and focused on whatever was going on with me.”

“None of this makes sense to me. Not … I don’t mean the part where you like guys. I can’t believe you like … love me,” Mike fumbles. “I’m … I don’t know how I could’ve earned it.”

“But it’s … I guess I’m realizing it’s the thing that’s kept me going. Because you’ve always been there, and you’ve always cared,” Mike says, earnestly. “I’ve never had to be anyone but myself around you, and me helping you feel like you’re not a mistake …”

“… is the greatest honor of my life.” A sob rips itself from Mike’s throat. He covers his eyes with his right palm. Jane squeezes his shoulder, encouraging him to continue. “You’re not a mistake. It’s me who made so many mistakes, avoided tough conversations, but I don’t want to do that now. We miss you, Will. I miss you. So damn bad that I dreamed up a ridiculous theory about where you were, and it was actually true. So, please. Help us figure out where you …”

The van door bursts open, sending Jane and Mike flying out of it without warning. Jane braces for impact, expecting it to be hard, but she opens her eyes and feels grass beneath her hands. She looks to her right and sees Mike staring at her with wide eyes.

“You okay?” Jane checks.

Mike nods like he isn’t sure whether or not to trust himself. He sits up and looks around, then he turns over so that he is on his knees.

“That’s us,” Mike breathes. “Me and Will. Walking behind the others toward the tunnels.”

“Come on.”

Jane scans their surroundings for any signs of danger, or Will, and periodically glances at the two boys up ahead. They are talking to one another, putting more and more distance between them and the rest of the group.

“We were talking about how he was connected to the Hive Mind,” Mike explains. “It’s … All of it’s my fault.” Jane looks at him. “I suggested that Will could pull the strings like Vecna.”

“You were right,” Jane says, uncomprehending. “It saved our lives, and not just you and me.”

“But at what cost?” Mike demands. “He’s still trapped in this nightmare. What I said in the van didn’t work.”

“Mike,” Jane exhales. “Is this a bad memory?”

“What?”

“This memory in this field,” Jane specifies. “Does it end badly? Or is it happy?”

They reach the edge of the forest. Mike stares at the past versions of him and Will.

“In real life, you’re more like a sorcerer, because your powers don’t come from a book of spells. They’re innate.”

“Is that even a real question?”

Jane and Mike spin around. Standing about ten feet away, just visible behind a tree, is Will.

Their Will.

Mike curses profusely and runs over to him, pulling Will into a crushing hug. Will’s eyes go wide before he lifts his arms. His expression quickly becomes filled with concern.

“Jesus, Mike. You’re … You’re shaking.”

When Mike doesn’t respond, Will looks worriedly at Jane. Her own eyes fill with tears. For the first time in months, she doesn’t see emptiness or resigned disappointment in Will’s eyes.

“It … It took a while to find you.”

Suddenly scared, Will asks:

“How long have I been here?”

“It’s nearly February.” Will’s face slackens. “I thought … We were trying to give you space. Mike is the one who was convinced something was wrong.”

“Sounds familiar.”

Just like when they were kids. Mike didn’t believe Will was gone then either. He did everything in his power to bring Will back, even going so far as recruiting a girl with her own powers.

That same Mike hasn’t loosened his grip on Will. Will rubs soothing circles on Mike’s back.

“I remember defeating Henry,” Will says. He watches Mike step back, his expression softening when Mike wipes under his eyes. “Is it the Mind Flayer? Did it survive?”

“Mike thinks so,” Jane says. “I saw it wither, but … You weren’t in pain in the end. I mean … you could have died with it. It would make sense for you to feel something.”

“That’s … okay, yeah,” Will murmurs. “All this time I figured I just … I assumed I couldn’t cope. That the last part of me broke when we thought you died. And if I had shut down, coming here was somewhere safe, at least. Somewhere hopeful.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jane says, her voice shaking. “I know you can’t forgive me.”

“Jane …”

“I don’t expect you to after I lied right to your and Jonathan’s faces,” she continues.

“Jane.”

“If we can’t be brother and sister anymore —”

“Oh, my God, stop,” Will cries. He looks between her and Mike. “You two are unbelievable.”

“What’d I do?” Mike protests.

Will stares at him. He shakes his head.

“Wait your turn.”

Mike splutters, but Will ignores him in favor of looking at Jane. He walks over to her and puts a hand on each of her shoulders. Jane waits with baited breath for him to speak, but Will pulls her into a crushing hug instead.

Her face screws up with unexpressed grief from the past few weeks.

“I’m not gonna lie,” Will says before pulling back from the hug. “You broke my heart.”

A sob escapes Jane. Will squeezes her tighter before drawing back so that he can look at her. There are tears shining in his eyes as well.

“There was a moment … a moment when I heard Max talking to me,” Will admits. “About how sometimes, we don’t feel like there’s any other option besides sacrificing parts of ourselves. It can lead to us sacrificing our entire selves, and we’re so buried in that darkness that we can’t see what it would do to the people who love us.”

“Even if, in your case,” he adds, “it’s to save the goddamn world.”

Jane’s laugh is watery and strained. She looks tentatively at him.

“It’s been awful,” she whispers. “I … I knew everyone would feel betrayed. Dad can’t look at me. Mom is trying to fix it and … and what I wanted was my brother. I can do it with you and Max.”

“You have me,” Will reassures her. “It’ll get better. One day at a time.”

Will takes a deep breath and steps backwards. He looks over at Mike who, to his credit, stares at his sneakers so that the siblings can have a moment. Jane sees a look of fondness in Will’s eyes that she never noticed before.

How did they all miss it?

“We’ve been here before.”

Mike looks up and furrows his brow. Will’s cheek twitches in amusement.

“Yeah,” Mike says, slowly. “It’s playing on a loop.”

“I don’t mean literally here,” Will chuckles. “You, believing in me before I believed in myself. You, realizing something’s wrong for me and not resting until you get to the bottom of it. You’ve been honing your powers this whole time.”

Mike’s cheeks are flushed, and he seems to be at a loss for words. Yet, Will seems to have plenty to say and a newfound ability to say it.

“It’s really good to see you.”

Uncertainly, Mike replies, “Yeah?”

Will’s smile is a cross between fond and long-suffering.

“Consider the memory,” Will says. “How do you think you got into this one?”

The color in Mike’s cheeks appears to spread down his neck.

“You heard me?”

“Only after you finally heard me,” Will replies, simply. “You can explain later how you’re even here with Jane.”

Shyly, Mike nods and replies:

“Deal.”

Will shakes his head and looks at Jane.

“Could it be me coping?” Will asks. “You told me to dig deep to get out before. What if I …” He sighs. “Dug more tunnels?”

“Anything seems possible,” Jane says. “You fought back when we got in here and a few times since. If this is you dealing, there is something in your mind that you do not want to confront.”

“But I told the guys I … like guys how they like girls,” Will falters. “They treated me the same.”

Mike reaches out instinctively and squeezes Will’s forearm. The latter appears flustered by the gesture, but Jane is not paying attention to that right now. Her mind is racing as she scans the field. It doesn’t make sense.

None of it does.

“What else?” Jane asks. “Has anything else made you unusually anxious or uncomf …?”

They look at each other at the same time.

“In here, you don’t mind me or Mike touching you,” Jane says. “When Joyce tried out there …”

“I freaked out,” Will finishes. “Almost like …”

“Like, what?” Mike asks when Will doesn’t finish.

Will blinks several times.

“Like how Mom acted after Lonnie got drunk and smacked her around.”

“Abusive dick,” Mike mutters.

“Maybe this is sort of like that,” Jane says, carefully. “Joyce told me once we sometimes fall into patterns that we see in our parents.”

“That’s well and good, but Vecna and I weren’t in a relationship.” There’s disgust in Will’s voice and across his features. “I didn’t seek him out. I didn’t … ask for it.”

“Exactly,” Mike says, looking pale but determined. “Neither did your mom. Neither does anyone who’s hurt this way. He sought you out. Like any abuser, he thought you’d be an easy target.”

Flatly, Will says, “Score one for him.”

“No, he got it wrong. Like Lonnie did,” Mike counters. “They fucked with the wrong family. Not just because you’re strong, but because you’re not alone. And you never will be.”

The ground shakes beneath their feet. The three of them look up before running for cover in the forest. Jane takes up the rear, searching for any sign of something following them. If it’s in there, it doesn’t show itself.

When she turns around, she sees Will leaning against a tree with his palm braced on it. Mike is leaning close and slightly below him to meet his eye. He is trying to get through to Will.

“Will?”

It takes a few moments, but Jane’s brother looks at her. Taking a deep breath, she asks:

“What did you feel,” she begins, “when you destroyed Henry’s hand?”

“I …” A strangled noise replaces any other words that might follow.

“Did you feel relief?” Jane tries. “Knowing he cannot touch you now?”

Will shivers violently and pushes off the tree.

“Stop it.”

“What, Will?” Jane asks, desperately. “Stop, what?”

“Stop talking about it like that!”

“Like, what?”

“Like he —”

The ground shakes harder. The trees rustle above them, losing several smaller branches and more than a few leaves. Mike pulls Will out of harm’s way as one lands where he just stood.

“Will, you are no one’s victim.” Jane isn’t sure where the words come from, only that they are as true as she believes in them. “You survived Henry and the Mind Flayer.”

“Jane’s right,” Mike agrees. Will looks from Jane to him with tears in his eyes. “You’ll survive this, whatever this is, too. Even if it doesn’t have a name right now.”

A tear slips out and glides down Will’s cheek. Then, another one falls. Jane hears his breathing become more ragged and the edges of the memory start to fade.

“What’s happening?” Mike asks, sharply.

“He’s remembering something,” Jane says. “Stay with us, Will. We’re right here.”

But Will isn’t looking at either one of them. His gaze is on the Byers’ old kitchen table, where a younger version of him sits with his mother. He looks so small. Not just age-wise; Will sits in a chair with hunched shoulders and speaks with a small voice.

“I was on the field, and … it all just went blank and then … you were there.”

“Will,” Joyce exhales. “I need you to tell me the truth.”

“I am.”

“This was after the Mind Flayer possessed you?” Jane confirms. Will nods with a vacant expression. “Joyce does not know yet?”

He nods again, still not speaking. Neither version of Will turns when his mother walks away from the table to get something. His eyes are fixed on that young boy, searching him. Terrified.

Joyce is appealing to past-Will now. It’s hard for Jane to tell which version of her brother looks more anxious about the direction that the conversation is headed.

“No more secrets,” Joyce implores. “Okay?”

“We are here for a reason, Will,” Jane says.

“Give him a minute,” Mike interjects.

She looks at Mike, but he is focused on Will. Jane understands why, too.

It looks as though a gentle breeze would knock him to the ground.

“It’s almost … a feeling.”

“Like the one you had that night at the arcade?” Joyce asks.

Past-Will nods, stammering, “Yes.”

“Wh-What does it want?”

“I don’t … know.”

“It came for me,” Will choruses with the young boy. “And … I tried … I tried to make it go away.”

The tears are coming faster. Almost as fast as past-Will’s eyes fill with unshed ones.

“But it got me, Mom,” past-Will chokes out.

Desperately, Joyce asks, “Well, what does that mean?”

“I felt it,” Will sobs, staring at the echo of his mother. “Everywhere.”

Quieter, past-Will whispers, “Everywhere.”

“I still feel it,” past-Will says, his voice cracking. “I just want this to be over!”

Will covers his face with his hands. He turns away from the memory, colliding with Mike’s chest. Only hesitating for long enough to check that Will is okay with being touched, Mike’s arms wrap around the other boy.

Jane tries swallowing the lump in her throat as sobs wrack Will’s body. She watches Joyce hold past-Will just as tight, whispering promises that she will not let anything bad happen to him.

Not again.

“Whatever’s going on in you, we’re gonna fix it. I will fix it.”

It’s sudden. It’s aggressive, like a swarm of bacteria infiltrating your bloodstream, but it’s also stealthy. Words spoken not to Will, but to Jane. So long ago, but never long enough to make Jane feel like she has truly outrun them.

Outrun who uttered them.

“Shh, shhh. You’re sick,” Papa murmurs. “You’re sick, but I’m going to make you better.”

A chill settles deep inside of Jane as she looks at her brother’s back.

“You are not broken, Will.”

At first, Jane isn’t sure that he heard her. His shoulders continue shaking and his breath is still ragged. Will remains unresponsive.

Papa is taking her away from the others.

Her friends.

“I’m going to take you back home where I can make you well again,” Papa promises. “Where we can make all of this better. Where no one else gets hurt.”

“Let us take you back home,” Jane implores. “It … It might take a while to get better, but we will listen to you. We will do better.”

“N-No one …” Will rasps. He pushes off of Mike, not bothering to wipe his eyes before looking at Jane. “No one will believe me.”

“Believe what?”

Will looks at her with a pained expression.

“I … I can’t,” Will whispers. “I can’t s-say it.”

“I think you have to.” Will looks at Mike whose lower lip wobbles. “Not for us. For yourself.”

Mike is right. Jane knows it, and she sees a flicker in Will’s eye. A moment of recognition that proves he is just as aware that what he says next matters.

“Will?” He looks at her. “You’re at home right now. You’re in your bedroom.” His arms wrap around himself tight. “We’re at the cabin, but we’ll be there as soon as we get out of here.”

Will takes a deep, shuddery breath. Eventually, he nods. He looks around his childhood kitchen, like he is committing the memory of it and all that he felt there to its own separate memory.

He braces himself. Tears still sparkle in his eyes.

“I was … abused.”

Jane reaches out and waits for Will to take her hands. She gives him an encouraging nod.

“I know,” Jane whispers. “So was I.” Her own tears fall. “It didn’t just happen to us. They did it. They made a choice.”

She takes the first plunge.

“Papa used me,” Jane says, louder. “He abused me. All of us in the laboratory.”

“Henry learned from him,” Will says through gritted teeth. “He learned, and he followed.”

Neither of them see it, but a makeshift portal starts to form behind them. Mike is the one who looks back and notices it as they continue speaking.

“I know he’s gone,” Will says. “But the feeling didn’t go with him.”

Jane nods in understanding.

Oh, does she understand him.

“Henry … the Mind Flayer … both of them …” Will shakes his head, trying to clear it. “They assaulted me.”

It doesn’t quite come out like a scream, but it is just as raw. It is as if the words were ripped from Will, but not before he was ready per se. Jane thinks that he is more ready now than he ever felt leading up to this point. He survived the abuse.

Now it’s time for him to survive the recovery.

“Guys,” Mike says, sharply.

They turn and see, for the first time, the portal that has grown from when it appeared moments prior. Looking through it, they see Will still in his bedroom. He sits on the edge of his bed, arms wrapped tight around his torso, and stares straight ahead.

Like he is trying to contain everything.

“We will not judge you for ‘feeling,’” Jane vows.

“Neither will anyone else, if they know what’s good for them,” Mike adds.

“You need to go,” Jane urges Will, who stands there frozen. “We will be there soon.”

“What if it isn’t enough?” Will asks. He pinches his columella with his right thumb and index finger before pulling his hand away from it. “What if I’m still … not all there?”

“You are,” Mike says with enough confidence for all of them. “You were before. You just …” He struggles to find the words. “Your puzzle pieces might just be arranged differently. But you are still a version of you. The person we all …”

Mike turns bright red. Will furrows his brow.

“You all, what?” Will asks, uncomprehending.

Mike looks at Jane, who nods in encouragement.

Tell him, Jane mouths.

“The person we all love.” Mike swallows. “The person I love.”

Will stumbles slightly, but Jane knows for a fact nothing actually shifted beneath their feet that time. Everything is surprisingly calm and steady in Will’s mind right now. There is no turmoil or upheaval or …

Oh, she realizes.

Anxiety.

“Last to figure things out as usual,” Mike jokes, half-heartedly. “Uh, sorry. Sorry, I know you no longer feel the same …”

“Mike.”

Both Will and Jane chorus his name in disbelief. Will looks at her. She shrugs.

“His obliviousness is your problem,” Jane says.

Will scoffs.

“It always is.”

Mike’s smile is slightly uneasy, but it seems to do the trick by grounding Will. The latter looks at the portal once more before squaring his shoulders. He glances at them.

“See you soon?”

“Soon,” Jane reassures him.

“Joyce will break, like, fifteen traffic laws,” Mike chimes in.

Will laughs and nods. He takes a deep breath.

“Love you both.”

“Love you, too,” Jane whispers.

When they look at Mike, he says:

“I’ll say it on the other side. When all of you can hear it.”

Will’s feet start moving after that. Jane grips onto Mike’s arm as they watch Will take off at a run toward the portal. He’s picking up more and more speed. He’s about to pass through it when …

Jane pulls them out of the memory, gasping for air.

“Jesus. You were gone for ages,” Dustin says as she rips off her goggles.

Jane looks across the room and sees Mike sit up in his tank as well. He looks washed out, but not nearly as drained as she feels. Jane wipes under her nose. There is a lot of blood.

“Here.” Her father hands her some juice before she can even attempt to stand. “You’ve never been under that long. You’re gonna be drained.”

Looking between Mike and Joyce, Jane orders:

“Go to Will.”

“Is he okay now?” Joyce asks.

A long look passes between the two old friends.

“He will be,” Mike replies. “We just need to follow his lead.”

“Tell him I’ll be there soon,” Jane says.

Mike nods and accepts Lucas’ hand to help him out of the tank. Mike rushes out of the cabin, ignoring the towel that Max offers in favor of getting to Will quicker.

Jane watches as Joyce hurries after him. The former exhales.

“Is it the Mind Flayer?” Lucas asks. “Is all this still going on?”

“No,” Jane says. “Will just needs to be heard. Understood.”

She looks at her father who stares right back at her.

“He knows how much we love him. Even when things are hard.”

Her father’s mustache twitches. He nods and replies gruffly:

“Good.”

***

May, 1988

“It’s smaller in person.”

Will laughs out loud, shaking his head.

“Probably because you’re seeing it from the perspective of someone who’s grown,” he reasons. “Not five years old.”

Jane shrugs. Will watches as she looks around the playground, taking in each detail like it might matter or be something that she is tested on later. The thought mildly amuses Will.

“That is where Mike asked if you wanted to be his friend.”

“Yup,” Will confirms, looking at the swingset where Jane points. “Second best day of my life.”

Teasingly, Jane replies, “Oh?”

Will’s face feels warm.

“Will!”

Will’s eyes turn sharply toward the doorway. A soaking wet Mike comes barreling into the room in a wetsuit. Will’s eyes barely get a chance to register that last detail before Mike is kneeling in front of him. Mike looks as desperate to hug Will as that night in the MAC-Z after Will destroyed all three Demogorgons.

Will opens his arms as permission. Mike immediately falls into them, gripping him tight.

“Welcome back, baby,” his mother says to his left.

She doesn’t stroke his hair. Not like she is prone to doing, and Will vaguely wonders if Mike told her to refrain from physical touch until Will initiates it. Or perhaps she understands more than he gives her credit for understanding.

Either way, it puts him at ease.

“Glad to be back,” Will breathes. He feels Mike shaking and assumes that he’s just cold until he hears Mike’s breath rattling. Will’s heart squeezes. “Can you give us a sec, Mom?”

“Of course. I’ll be just downstairs.”

Will waits until the door closes behind his mother with a soft click. He draws backwards, raising his hands to cup Mike’s cheeks.

“I’m here,” Will reminds him. “You guys saved me.”

Mike vehemently shakes his head.

“You did that,” Mike counters. “We just … nudged you along.” He looks worriedly at Will. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I know I … can’t begin to imagine what those monsters did to you two.”

“Hear me when I say, I’m glad,” Will says. “You understood a lot more than I would’ve expected.” A horrible thought occurs to him. “Has Holly said anything to you?”

“Not in so many words, but I know she feels different. Violated,” Mike barely manages to say. “It kills me. You were both so young … I mean, it’s horrible at any age, but that young. I’m just glad this worked and you’re here and …”

“You can follow through on your promise?” Mike blinks. “You lit a fire under my feet to get back here. Unless …”

Doubt fills Will, but for barely a second.

“Friends don’t lie,” Mike says with a coy smile. Will rolls his eyes. “Not about what they feel. And not about who they love.”

Will’s heart hammers hard in his chest as Mike inches closer to him.

“I don’t … I’d understand if it’s not that type of feeling. Now or ever,” Will says. “I’ve been here for years. You just arrived.”

“I already like the view.” Will laughs in disbelief. “Too corny?”

“I’ll let it slide,” Will chuckles, still feeling flustered. “I think I’ve got a new favorite memory.”

“Hopefully you can enjoy this one? Not retreat into it?” Mike murmurs. Will nods emphatically, running a hand through Mike’s hair. “I love you, Will.”

Will swears a fuse bursts when Mike leans forward and brushes their lips together. His entire body lights up with raw, unfiltered energy that leads to him pulling Mike closer. He is positive that he never wants to let Mike go.

The kisses, starting soft, quickly become more desperate. Needy.

Deep.

A noise is pulled from Will that he’s never heard before. His mouth parts, gasping, which Mike takes as an invitation to slip his tongue into for further exploration. Will’s hands drift down and freeze when they land on Mike’s backside, drawing a groan from Mike.

They pull apart, blinking at one another. Then, they burst out laughing.

“T-Too much?” Mike wheezes.

Will sits back, shaking his head and running a hand through his own hair. His eyes scan Mike from his face, down his torso, and settle on the hip region. The wetsuit leaves nothing to Will’s imagination. Based on Mike’s red face when Will meets his eye again, Mike realizes the same.

“Surprising,” Will says. “Feels like it should’ve been, but it’s you. Us. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Mike says with no sign of dishonesty. “It does. Until I think about how many times I’ve given you reasons not to trust me.”

Will furrows his brow.

“Memories?” he asks. Mike nods. “Which ones?”

“Destroying Castle Byers.” Will swallows. “The pizza van. Your painting.”

Will closes his eyes and grimaces. He feels Mike’s hands cover his own.

“I’m sorry I was so … focused on myself.” Will shakes his head. “That’s what this was. If I saw what was happening sooner, maybe I’d’ve realized Jane and I were always better friends. She would’ve found someone who treated her better, and you and I …”

“I was not ready to confront this part of myself,” Will says. “No matter how much I liked you then or love you now. No matter how badly I wanted you to feel the same way. It took time.”

“Looks like we’ve finally got plenty of that.” Will smiles as Mike gently rubs the former’s arms, grounding them both. “Now that I rolled a seven.”

Will tilts his head in confusion. Mike’s cheek twitches.

“I rolled a seven,” Mike repeats. “You got me.”

Will’s eyes go wide in disbelief before he groans and thumps Mike’s head. Mike falls over with a dramatic flair, clutching his chest as Will flops backwards on the bed.

He’s in love with an idiot!

“You are in love with an idiot,” Jane confirms.

Will nods solemnly, pushing the swing slightly as they stand beneath the empty playset.

“We all have our burdens.” His lip twitches. “I told him he’s only allowed to call me a sorcerer when we’re actually playing D&D.”

“What does that mean?” Jane shrieks. “When did he call you that?”

Will shakes his head.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

Jane shrieks again and covers her ears. Will laughs in response. He stares at the fence that surrounds the playground’s perimeter. The schoolyard is silent until Jane speaks again.

“How do you feel?” Jane asks. He looks at her. “Since talking to someone.”

“It’s … complicated,” Will admits. “There’s only so much I can say without getting sent away or being called delusional. I think …” He hesitates. “I couldn’t accept what Henry did as inherently sexual, because I know that wasn’t his goal.”

“But he did invade my body. It did feel like it no longer belonged to me and I didn’t recognize it,” Will continues, releasing a shuddery breath. “It was a form of rape.”

Jane reaches out, and he accepts her hand. She squeezes his own in return.

“Your powers are innate,” Jane says. “I have never met someone as strong as you. That little boy under the bed would be proud. I am proud.”

There’s a strangled noise from the back of Will’s throat. He shakes his head and clears it before he can fall apart in the middle of his former schoolyard. Will gives his sister a stern look.

“We didn’t come here to make me cry.” Her smile is serene but genuine. “You wanted to talk?”

Jane’s expression becomes more serious. She nods.

“I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what Mike said,” Jane begins. “About how you weren’t in any pain when we killed Henry. It makes me wonder if he’s right and the Mind Flayer lived. Do you think that is possible?”

Will is quiet for a few moments. He considers her question with his left hand wrapped tightly around one of the metal swingset’s support bars.

“Yeah,” Will eventually says. The color drains from Jane’s face. “That was always a possibility, wasn’t it? Killing Henry never guaranteed killing the Mind Flayer. It’s sort of like a TV show. It exists without people watching it, but people watching it gives it power. Otherwise, it is sort of just there. It’s not the perfect comparison since Henry and the Mind Flayer’s relationship was more co-dependent. Or symbiotic …”

“Sym-bi …?”

“Symbiotic,” Will repeats. “They relied on one another. Henry had his powers, but nothing that would have risen to the level they were without that push. And the Mind Flayer needed a host. Now, if it’s out there, it’s a shell of itself without him. Or me. And you cut off its access.”

“I hope so.” Jane gnaws at her lower lip. “I never want it to hurt anyone again.”

“That’s unrealistic,” Will says, gently. Jane stares at him. “This isn’t me being … dark. If the Mind Flayer is still out there, it’s like any other feeling or darkness that’s abstract. It’s hidden the same way pain exists or future heartache waits for its next opportunity to strike.”

“There might always be something or someone that can hurt or control us,” Will says, “but even the strongest powers, good or bad, have their limits. You and Mike proved that when you found me again. It was something much deeper that pulled me out of that darkness.”

“Doesn’t … this scare you?”

“Hell yes.” Jane blinks. “But for the first time in my life, it doesn’t feel like I need to run away from what frightens me. I have you guys, and I have ways of dealing with it that allow me to confront that possibility. We survived, Jane. We get to live now.”

Jane takes a long, deep breath. She looks younger now than Will has ever seen her. That realization floods his heart with joy. Will watches as his sister sits down on a swing.

“I bet I can go higher than you.”

Will barks out a laugh.

“In your dreams.” He pauses for a split second. “And no using your powers!”

As they pump their legs to get higher and higher, both of their sides hurt from laughing harder and harder. Will feels like his face might split in two from how broadly he’s smiling. Will laughs even more when Jane’s hair whips into her eyes and she shrieks.

It’s good. Things finally feel really good.