5.
Having decided to bring the piggyback forward in light of the recent attack, the party plus Steve (needed for the purely practical purposes of having a swimming pool and a car) decided to split up to prepare. With most of the population of Hawkins having fled the area, there are plenty of deserted shops and restaurants for them to raid for salt. According to Mike, that's a good thing. Will's not so sure.
They sneak in through doors which have been left unlocked in haste and once a window left slightly ajar. They work mostly in silence checking inside cupboards and up on shelves for supplies. Will's eyes are never far from Mike. After the attack earlier, and to make up for his own inaction at the time, he's determined to ensure his friend is coping okay.
The diner they're in currently is reminiscent of the Surfer Boy Pizza Parlour they'd used for El's previous piggyback. It's not doing much to make Will feel any better. He recalls El on the counter, choking, thrashing about, and compares it to Mike doing the same on his bedroom floor before. He should have known.
"Hey, you okay?" Mike asks, seemingly out of the blue.
Will looks at him over his shoulder. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"
"I'm okay."
Mike says it as if he's been through nothing worse than a tumble off his bike onto soft grass. Will puts back the container he'd been looking at, clearly not salt, and joins his friend at the other side of the kitchen.
"Your neck's all bruised up."
"Is it?" He glances down but it's ineffective. "Nancy's gonna freak. Show me where?"
Will reaches out and with just one finger, light as a feather, he gently strokes across the red-purple line around Mike's neck.
Mike shudders slightly.
"Does it hurt?" Will asks.
"Um, a little sore, I guess."
"I'm really sorry." He's lost count of the number of times he's said it now, but he doesn't know how else to show Mike how much he means it. "If you… if you'd feel safer being partnered up with someone else, I'd understand. We can radio the others, get Lucas to swap with me. He'd be better at this stuff anyway. And I can help Dustin with the pool."
"What?" Mike grabs him by the shoulders. "I'm the one who decided on the partners, remember? I feel safe with you, Will. Of course I do, you're my best friend! We're not swapping, okay?"
His heart swells at Mike's words but he ignores it. His emotions are not the priority here. "But, what if-?"
"Vecna swoops in when someone's upset, right? So all we've got to do is stay happy."
"Right, cos it's that easy."
Mike's mouth twitches. "I know," he says, quietly. He catches Will's hand with his "We've just got to pretend for a few hours. Think of it as a campaign. That's our way to win."
Will just nods. It's already feeling easier with Mike's hand in his.
But Mike pulls away again with a muttered we'd better get on and they're back to hunting for salt.
It's two restaurants later when they finally hit the jackpot in an Italian that Will's never been to but has heard his mom say is nice. It's Mike who finds the huge sack of salt but Will who takes the lead in dragging it to the back door, ready for Steve to pick up and load into his car.
"We've definitely had the worst job," Mike says, as Will re-joins him. "I mean, all Dustin and Lucas have had to do is turn on a hose, we have physical exertion and the risk of getting arrested for theft. But this sweetens it slightly… look what I've just found!" He holds out a large tub of ice cream, grinning "And nearly thirty minutes before Steve's getting here."
Will manages a genuine smile. "I'll get us some spoons."
They sit on the floor, leaning against the wall, the ice cream tub balanced precariously on their thighs. They're so close that their elbows bash every time either of them lifts a spoon to their mouth. Will's had nausea stirring within him since the incident earlier in the day, but he eats regardless, enjoying the time with his best friend more than the sweetness of the raspberry ripple.
Eventually, Mike sighs, his spoon falling back into the half-empty tub. "I can't eat any more."
"I don't think I've ever heard you say that about ice cream before!"
"I know, what is happening to me?" he says, dramatically, clutching his chest. "Have I been cursed by a hunger-stealing demon, vanquishing my love for ice cream!"
Will laughs but it dries up quickly.
Mike nudges him. "He got you too, huh? The hunger-stealing demon."
"I guess." He takes the ice cream tub from their legs and puts it on the floor, pushing it so that it glides away from them.
They don't have any need to sit so closely together now that they've finished sharing the food, but neither of them moves apart. Mike's so close that Will can feel it each time he fidgets, a shrug of a shoulder, twitch of a restless leg, a quick glance in his direction. Will knows that each movement represents a question Mike's bitten back. So many things have gone unsaid between them recently and somehow, it feels as bad as their arguments.
And yet Will knows he's holding back too on so many different levels. His shoulders are tense, his hands balled by his sides so he can't pick at the dead skin around his fingernails and he's having to concentrate hard on sitting still, preventing the nervous bounce of his leg.
With a deep breath he turns to Mike. "I don't want El to do the piggyback," he says. It comes out rushed, the sentence smashed into a single word.
Mike looks at him, eyes wide, lips slightly apart.
"I- I mean, I know she has to," Will hastily backtracks. "And I- I'm going to do it. But I don't want to. I just don't want to."
"What is it you're worried about?"
Will stares down at his knees. "He's going to be hiding in the dark places, isn't he? Which means that's where El has to go. And… and me too. I have to go back into the memories I do all I can to not think about."
"I know." Mike's fingers slot between his, their hands becoming one, hidden down between them so no-one, not even them, can see. "But it's going to be okay. You've gotten through those things for real, right? So you can get through the memories too."
"But it's like… back to square one, you know? I finally stopped having nightmares every night, and I just…" He breaks off, breathing deeply to compose himself. "I guess I'm just scared," he continues. "And not just scared of having to be in those memories again, but what it's going to do to me after." He chances a glance at Mike. "I just want things to be normal again. I want to be normal."
"Well, I don't want you to be," Mike says. He shakes his head. "I mean, I don't want you to have nightmares or to have to go through any of that other stuff. Of course I don't. But normal? None of us are normal. That's why we're all friends. Look at El. She's not normal and that what makes her so special."
"But I'm not El," Will says. It feels even more bitter now he's said it out loud.
"No, you're Will. You're my best friend. And you like drawing and playing D&D and spending all day at the arcade. Maybe none of that stuff's normal. But that's what makes you so cool."
"Really?" Will says, sceptically.
"Really. And it's okay to be scared, Will. We all get scared sometimes. But we're all gonna be there for you. Dustin, Lucas, El… even Steve! And you've got me too." Mike squeezes his hand. "You've always got me."
"Thanks Mike." Will squeezes back. Mike's hand feels hot and sweaty but he doesn't want to let go. Mike's being so understanding and kind that Will starts to wonder if he can tell him the other things too. "There's something else," he says, before his brain can fully kick in.
"Yeah?"
"Some- some stuff El might see while she's inside my head. Private stuff."
"El won't judge."
"She might."
"Well, I'm your best friend, right? You could tell me first. To try out what it's going to be like once El knows."
Will freezes. His mouth feels dry. It suddenly feels ridiculous that he'd even considered telling Mike out of choice. But El will see and then she'll tell him because friends don't lie, and so if he can at least prepare Mike for the full truth, maybe it will be for the best.
"Will?"
"I don't want you to hate me."
"Hate you? Why would I-"
"I promise I didn't mean for this. I don't want it. And I- I tried not to, I swear Mike, I really did, but it won't change. It won't go away."
"Will, what is it?" Mike's face looks alarmingly like it did that time he worked out the Mindflayer had started spying back.
Will removes his hand from Mike's to prevent Mike from having to do it himself once he finds out. "I," he says. "I'm…" He's shaking slightly. He gulps and then turns to look at Mike. "I don't like girls," he says. "Not girls."
Mike's mouth opens but he doesn't speak, just leaves his lips in a confused oh.
Will's stomach is churning so violently he thinks the ice cream might be about to come back up. He wishes Mike would say something, even if it's bad, even if he wants nothing to do with him ever again, because at least then he'll know, the band aid will have been ripped off.
But Mike just stares at him. His eyebrows are angled in a frown but he hasn't moved away, not even slightly, and Will doesn't know what that means.
"Mike, say something," he says. His voice comes out broken and it's only then he realises that a tear has fallen down his cheek.
"No, no, no, don't cry," Mike says. "You can't cry!" He rubs at Will's face as if he's trying to push the tear back up and into his eye. "Vecna, remember, we have to- have to stay happy."
"Shit, shit, I'm sorry!"
Panic rises up inside Will's throat, which makes it even harder to try to stop crying. He hastily scans the room for the vines, there's nothing as far as he can see, but when he looks back at Mike, a familiar black tendril is creeping over his shoulder.
"No!" he says. He hits at Mike's shoulder, knocking it off. "Mike!"
"Has it gone?" he says, frantically.
"Um- shit, no!"
The vine swings, grabbing Mike at the crook of his elbow this time. He must be able to feel it, for he looks down in the exact spot Will is looking at. Then he looks back at Will. And then Mike leans forwards and joins their lips.
"What?" Will splutters, against his mouth.
Mike doesn't answer. His hand grabs onto the back of Will's head, holding them together as he begins to move his mouth against Will's.
Will doesn't know how to kiss. He doesn't know if he's kissing fast enough or hard enough or moving his lips the way he's meant to, but all he knows is it feels good. He can feel Mike's breath, hot and heavy against his face and he can smell the raspberry ripple ice cream they'd just devoured. One of them, he's not sure who, lets out a breathy moan. Will feels his lips curve into a smile. He's kissing Mike. Actually kissing Mike.
But that reminds him of how and why they'd got there. He opens his eyes in panic and looks straight into Mike's.
"The vines," Mike says. His cheeks are pink. "They've gone. We made them go."
It feels like something's smacked into Will's chest. Mike didn't kiss him because he wanted to. Mike kissed him because he knew it would make him happy, would make the vines go away. Mike kissed him because it was the only way to save himself.
And now Mike must have figured out the truth. Not just that he's gay but that he's in love with him, as he'd proved by kissing him back, by it actually working against the vines. A deep shame settles within his bones. He feels like he wants to sink into the floor, never get up again.
"I'm sorry," he says.
At the same time, Mike wipes a hand across his own mouth and says, "Look, Will-"
Neither of them get to finish their sentence.
The door opens and Steve's head pokes around the corner, looking from the sacks of salt to the two of them on the floor. "You ready to go?" he says.