8.

"Mike. Mike!"

The sound of someone calling his name infiltrates his dream. The noise is distorted and for a moment he thinks it's part of his dream too. He cracks open an eye. Even with the thin curtains that his mom insists look nice despite letting through every sliver of light once the sun rises, his room is still dark. It's either late still, or really early.

"Mike, answer me."

Through the darkness, he squints towards where the noise is coming from. His walkie has lived in the same place since he first got it, pride of place on his bedside table. Sometimes, he wonders if it's a little childish, but after all they've been through the past few years, there's no chance he's putting it away in a drawer somewhere or with the rest of the junk beneath his bed.

Sleepily, he reaches out and grabs it off the table, extending the antennae so he can hear better. Reception from the Byres house has always been a bit dodgy. "El, what is it? Over."

"Mike," she says. He can hear her relief at him finally answering. "Code red."

"Code red?" He sits bolt upright in bed, his tiredness forgotten. "What's happening? Is it Venca? Are you okay?"

"We need you here," she says.

"Now?" He picks up his watch and tries to see the hands. Five thirty in the morning; no wonder it's dark still. "I- yeah. I can sneak out. Are Dustin and Lucas on their way too? Over."

"No. Just you."

"But I thought it was a code red?"

"It is a code red for you," El says. "Will needs you," she adds.

Something seems to take hold of his heart and twist. He shivers. "Why, what's happened?" he asks. There's no immediate reply. "El?" The silence makes whatever's going on in his chest feel even worse. He imagines the worst, that Vecna's taken oven Will already. "El, talk to me! Is Will okay?"

"He's okay," El says. "I'll explain when you're here."

Mike throws the duvet off him and begins one-handedly rummaging through the items of clothing on his floor. "I'll be as quick as I can."

"Don't go to the house. We're in the shed."

Mike pauses in his pursuit of clothing, a well-worn t-shirt slung over his shoulder. "The shed?"

"Yes. Hurry. Over and out."

Mike stares at the walkie talkie blankly. Typical after all these years of trying to teach El proper radio etiquette and she finally remembers just as he has more questions to ask.

He discards the dirty t-shirt and pulls on a hoodie over his pyjama top instead, stopping just long enough to change into a pair of old jeans and shove his feet into some trainers.

Oddly enough, it's Nancy who'd taught him how to sneak out. He's never had to try it before, but he knows the plan. Without the luxury of a drainpipe outside his window like his sister, his route is more of a challenge, but he doesn't think it's impossible. From his bedroom, he has to cross the corridor to the bathroom, which is located directly above the garage, climb out the window, survive the small drop to the garage roof, then cross to the other side and scramble down the wall, using the sticking out window ledge as a foot hold.

It turns out the most difficult part of the lot is squeezing his body through the small bathroom window. Not for the first time, he wishes his legs had stopped growing before they did. He never asked to be the tall one in the party! But once he's out, and has paused for long enough to check his parents didn't hear his accidental kick to the window frame on the way, the rest of his escape is relatively easy.

He pedals to the Byres' house as fast as he can. It's been months since he last rode his bike and, in that time, the back tyre feels as if it's gotten a slow puncture and the battery in the flashlight on his handlebars has run so low the light is barely glowing. The additional inches in his legs mean hie knees bang into the handlebars unless he angles them uncomfortably outwards and he's sure he'll have bruises on both knees by the time he arrives.

Not wanting to wake Joyce or Hopper, he jumps off his bike on his approach to the house and wheels it around to the shed. He leans it up against the wall at the far side, so no-one from the house would be able to see it if they looked out, and then heads to the door, giving it a gentle knock before pushing it open.

Will and El are side by side on the floor. Next to El, he spots the walkie she'd called him from. Beside that, is a gun. His stomach lurches so violently that it feels as if the ground beneath him suddenly dropped, and he's not sure how he remained on his feet. Had he been with anyone else, he'd have assumed they'd had a shootout with a monster from the Upside Down, but it's not like El would need a weapon to destroy it. He looks from the gun, to El, to Will, and back to the gun again.

"Why have you got a-?"

"Sit," El says.

He does as he's told, taking the spot of floor the other side of Will. His friend is hugging his knees to his chest, his head buried into them, and doesn't look up, although Mike's sure he must be aware he's here. He looks at El instead. There are remnants of blood beneath her nose, smudged as if she's tried to wipe it away and got distracted halfway through. Her cheeks are shiny from tear trails.

"El, will you please just tell me what's going on!"

She looks down at the top of Will's head, her mouth twitching just slightly in the way it always does when she's trying to find the right words. When she looks back up at him, Mike sees sadness within her eyes.

"Will tried to… make himself dead," she says.

"What?!" Mike's heart jumps into his throat so fast and so violently, he thinks he might pass out. "What, no!" He stares at Will. He still doesn't move. "No, you're wrong. You have to be. Will, tell her!" There's silence. "Will!"

El's eyelashes glisten with tears. "He thought it would kill 001 too."

A question pops into Mike's brain and he hates himself more than he's ever hated himself before: would it? But either way, whatever the answer, it wouldn't justify Will trying to kill himself. He still can't quite believe what El's saying is true.

"Will," he says again. There's a lump in his throat that's making it hard to breathe. He doesn't think it's going to go away until Will says something that somehow makes this better. "Will, look at me, please."

There's a few uncomfortable beats of silence and then Will slowly lifts his head from his knees. A tear drips off the end of his chin. His eyes are red. And in the moment that his eyes turn to Mike, Mike knows without doubt that what El's saying is true.

He crumples, half falling, half throwing himself at Will, arms open, trying to drag him into a hug. Will stiffens, not accepting the embrace, and Mike ends up with a knee in his stomach and a load of Will's hair in his mouth. Despite this, he doesn't let go.

"What the hell, Will? What the hell?!"

"I'm sorry," Will says. It comes out muffled between sobs.

"You were going to leave me?"

Mike's crying heavily himself now too. The thought of Will doing that, of not ever being able to see him again floods his body, filling every pore with pain. After what they'd all learnt yesterday, he should have known. He should have followed Will home and spent every second of the night watching him, never giving him chance to try something like this.

He feels movement within his arms and loosens his hold enough for Will to shift position and bury his head into Mike's hoodie instead. Mike's hand finds home in Will's hair, gently stroking it in what he hopes is a soothing manner. He looks at El. She's noticed Will's movement too and they exchange a look over the top of his head.

"I will… make breakfast," she says.

It's far too early for breakfast but Mike knows it's a cover story to give him some time alone with Will. He attempts a smile in acknowledgement but isn't confident it actually makes it to his face.

Once the shed door has clicked behind her, he gives a final stroke of Will's hair and then lifts him up off him, so that they can see each other. Their faces aren't far apart and he registers Will's swollen eyes and nose, the trickle of snot above his lip.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Will?" he says.

Will's chin quivers. He's looking everywhere except Mike directly in his eye. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, El radioed me over for a reason."

Will shrugs. "She said she was fetching somebody. It was you or my mom, so."

"So, I'll go and get your mom shall I? Unless you'd rather actually talk to me."

"I, just-" He rubs at his damp cheeks with his hands. Mike considers offering him his sleeve. "You know what me and El saw, what's he's going to make me do, and I… I just thought it was a way to stop it."

"There are other ways," Mike says, fiercely.

"We don't know that," Will says. "But this- it seemed like the best solution. If I could- if I…" He blinks and another tear trickles onto the newly dry skin. "It could kill him. It could stop a lot of people getting hurt."

Mike's heartrate suddenly speeds up again. "You're not going to try it again, are you?" He grabs Will by the shoulders. "Promise me. Promise me, Will."

There's a long pause. Too long. "I don't want to," Will finally relents.

"You've got to promise."

"I…" Will sighs. "Fine. I promise."

Mike lets go of the breath he'd been holding. "Good." His hands are still on Will's shoulders but he slackens the grip. "Because you can't do that to me! I don't know what I'd do if you- if you… had. I need you in my life, Will."

Will shakes his head. The movement sends more tears spilling from his eyes. "You don't need me."

"I do," he insists. "The times when you've not been here, when you were taken, when you moved to California… those were the worst times of my life, Will. You can't leave me out of choice!"

"But, when El was inside my head… the memories, they reminded me of what a- a burden I've been, what I've put everyone through. My mom, especially. But you too. You more than most. And… and it's going to happen again, Mike. Worse than ever."

Mike doesn't know how to prove to Will, that none of the things he's been through, or might go through, make him a burden. He doesn't know how to explain with words that he wants to be there. Through the bad times as well as the good. And so he does the only other thing he can think of, and leans forwards to close the small gap between their lips.

Will's hands come firm on his chest, pushing him away.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"You can't just do that every time you want to cheer me up!"

"No, I-" Mike looks up at him in horror. "Okay, I do want to cheer you up. Obviously. But that's not why I," he lowers his voice, "that's not I tried to kiss you!"

"But before… with the vines."

"That was different," Mike says. It comes out a little high pitched. "I guess I just… I acted on instinct. It felt like the right thing to do. And I'm not taking it back, it was the right thing, it got the vines to go away, didn't it?" He sees the look on Will's face and hastily carries on talking. "But that's not all. I liked it, Will. I liked it. And I thought that you liked it too."

"Because I'm… you know?"

"Because you're Will, because you kissed me back, I dunno." His stomach's started doing some uncomfortable flips. "Didn't you like it?"

Will's eyes dart around, panic stricken, but Mike's sure he sees them flicker to his mouth more than once. "Mike, you're with El."

"I know, but-"

"And you're not… you're not like me."

Mike gives a big, dramatic shrug. He hopes it adequately conveys his levels of confusion about why he suddenly wants to kiss his best friend, and how, if Will won't let him kiss him, he's meant to figure out if he is, or isn't, like Will.

"You've had a shock," Will says, calmly, as if he hadn't been the cause of it himself. "It's okay. Everyone does crazy things when they're in shock. It's the adrenaline."

Mike's shoulders slump. Is that all it was, this sudden urge, adrenaline? "The thought of you not being here makes me want to offer myself up as bait to a Demogorgon," he says.

Will shudders. "Please don't."

"I won't if do that if you won't do this."

"I already said I wouldn't."

"And you meant it, right?" Mike asks. "You weren't just telling me what I wanted to hear."

"I meant it," Will says softly. "You didn't have to kiss me to make me not do it again."

Mike looks down at his feet. He suddenly feels very young, like that time he had to explain to Will he really did want to give him his brand new bike like he'd promised, but his mom just wouldn't allow it. "I already said that's not why I did it. I just… I wanted to, okay?"

"Well, that's because we're friends," Will says firmly. "Best friends."

Mike scowls. He's pretty sure best friends don't usually kiss each other, but it makes no sense for Will to be shutting him down when he's the one who doesn't like girls. He attributes it to the timing, and pockets it away for another time. Will had kissed him back before after all.

After a while El returns, without breakfast but with three filled mugs, one of which she's balancing in front of her with her mind. Mike grabs that one before she drops it and takes a large sip which burns his mouth. A second later, he gets the taste. It turns out El's ability to maintain a balanced diet hasn't improved since she's been away. The hot chocolate is far sweeter than he's ever had it before, verging on undrinkable.

"Nice?" she asks, watching him.

"Um, yeah," he says. If it was anyone else, apart from possibly Will, he wouldn't worry about sparing their feelings. "Yeah, it's nice, El. Thanks."

Beside him, Will slurps at his drink like he's too upset to even notice the taste.

By the time the sun comes up, they've snuck indoors and are hiding out in Will's old room where El currently sleeps. They sit on one of the blow up beds, all three of them together with Mike in the middle, sharing one of the comics he leant to Will. He's in charge of turning the pages and the other two let him know when they're ready, but he's not reading himself. His brain won't let him concentrate. He's aware that he doesn't have much longer before his parents realise that he's not tucked up in his bed, but he doesn't want to leave. He doesn't want to ever let Will out of his sight again.

Just as he's trying to create a plan for how his parents will let him move in with the Byres, the walkie-talkie crackles to life.

"Guys?" Lucas's voice bursts through, sounding panicky. "Guys, code red. You need to get to the hospital. Now!"