Thought We Built a Dynasty That Heaven Couldn't Shake (PDF)

Thought We Built A Dynasty That Heaven Couldn't Shake Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/39250650. Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M Fandom:...

Thought We Built A Dynasty That Heaven Couldn't Shake Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/39250650. Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Relationships: Will Byers & Eleven | Jane Hopper, Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler, Eleven | Jane Hopper & The Party, Will Byers & The Party, Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper, Will Byers & Original Female Character(s), Will Byers/Original Male Character(s) Characters: Will Byers, Eleven | Jane Hopper, The Party (Stranger Things), The Party [Extended] (Stranger Things), Jim "Chief" Hopper, Joyce Byers, Sam Owens (Stranger Things), Original Character(s) - Character, Lonnie Byers Additional Tags: Minor Character Eddie Munson, Deaf Character, Posted Before Stranger Things 4 Releases, Inspired by Dynasty by Miia, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Psychological Trauma, Post- Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Period-Typical Homophobia, One-Sided Byler - Freeform, Jealousy, Dysfunctional Family, Eleven | Jane Hopper-centric, Will Byers-centric, Other Additional Tags to Be Added Language: English Stats: Published: 2022-05-27 Updated: 2024-11-26 Words: 138,738 Chapters: 29/?  Thought We Built A Dynasty That Heaven Couldn't Shake by theonewiththewalkman Summary Now everything’s changed, to say the least. The new house, the engagement, the leftover trauma. Not to mention a new family. And now, happy moments felt tainted. The realization of reality would hit like a punch to the gut, a wave of ache and sadness washing over, and genuine happiness wouldn’t be the same anymore, and a smile was just a facade. ------ November 1985- Five months since Starcourt. It was over at least. The Russians were thwarted, the Mindflayer was defeated. They were all safe; they were all alive. So, everything should be okay now, right? It was over now, right? Right? That's the problem with real life. The credits never start rolling at what you think is the end. There's no pause or fast forward button. You can't just stop whenever you want. They have to deal with the leftover pieces, whether they want to or not. Notes At this point, I've been working on this story...for two years. This idea has always been lodged in my head and I've written a lot of notes and had lots of random thoughts, but I've never had the passion or time to actually write it down. The original chapter of this story was posted BEFORE Stranger Things 4 dropped (approximately 3 hours away). The mentions of the Creel house and the 'moving to California' were hints that I added in from the teasers and spoilers I'd seen online, therefore this story is NOT season 4 compliant, but Eddie will be written in as a replacement for an originally planned OC character. I'm very excited for this :D  Will Chapter Notes Chapter has been rewritten from previously published version (2022). Please be kind, rew̶i̶n̶d̶ read. tw!: use of homophobic words, I don't condone these words in real life please enjoy :) See the end of the chapter for more notes Monday, November 1st, 1977 “He’s a fag, Joyce!” “How many times, Lonnie?! It doesn’t make him…that if he wants to draw instead of go to the damn basketball game with you!” “It makes him a little freak, that’s-,” Will’s parents were fighting again. Even through his closed bedroom door, he could hear them screaming at each other in the living room. He was sure the Greenburgs five miles away could hear them. Will knew they were arguing about him. They always did. His dad would call him and Jonathan names - bad names that Will wasn’t allowed to repeat - and that would make his mom mad. Then his dad would get mad too. Most of the time, they just shouted at each other. Usually, his dad would storm off and come back late at night, way past Will’s bedtime. Then, other times, things got violent. “Look at him, Joyce! He never wants to play any sports, all he does is just sit around and draw-, the boy doesn’t even dress normally!” “He can dress however the hell he wants to!” “Goddamn it-, Joyce, are you blind?! He’s a sissy! A fucking queer! He’s going to turn this entire family into a laughing stock and it’ll be all your fault!” Will covered his ears, tears springing into the corner of his eyes as he threw himself onto his pillow. His little fingers reached out to clutch his stuffed lion, pulling it close to his chest to catch the tears. More yelling. “The only laughing stock in this family is you! Out at all hours, drinking, smoking, whatever the hell it is you’re doing!” “This isn’t about me, Joyce! This is about your son!” “M-my son? My son?! So what, are you just going to pretend that he doesn’t exist anymore? Is that what your sorry ass is going to parade around saying?” “I don’t have to pretend anything! Because that boy I raised? He’s gone. I don’t know what in God’s name happened to him, but that little freak in there? He sure ain’t mine!” “We both know you did anything but raise him! Goddamn it, Lonnie, you weren’t even there when I gave birth to him!” “And I’m sure as hell glad I wasn’t! He’s a little screw-up, just like his brother!” “Don’t you dare-,” Will suddenly felt a soft cushion on his left ear, followed by singing. I’ve paid my dues. He opened his eyes - just a sliver - to see Jonathan standing in front of him, holding a pair of headphones over Will’s ears. Time after time. Jonathan closed the door again as Will listened to the soft keys of the piano that were playing through the headphones. He couldn’t hear his parents anymore. I’ve done my sentence. The bed sank as Jonathan laid down next to Will, wrapping his arm around Will’s tiny body, gently rocking him. But committed no crime. Will started to cry even more, holding both his stuffed lion and Jonathan’s arm close to him. And bad mistakes. His dad would get upset again if he saw Will crying. Boys didn’t cry. I’ve made a few. It would be useless to wipe them away; no matter how much Will tried, they kept falling. I’ve had my share of sand kicked in my face, but I’ve come through. Will suddenly felt something wet on his shoulder. It only took a few seconds for him to realize that his brother was crying too. And we mean to go on and on and on and on. Shutting his eyes, Will leaned in closer to Jonathan, focusing on the voice of Freddie Mercury instead of the horrible, horrible, world he knew was just outside his bedroom door. We are the champions, my friends… Friday, November 1st, 1985 That day wasn’t the first time Will heard his parents fighting, and it definitely wasn’t the first time he was the subject of their argument. He just remembered that fight the most. His parents divorced about a year before Will went missing. Joyce had told both him and Jonathan that ‘it just didn’t work out’ and that their marriage ‘was bound to fall apart eventually’. Will decided he liked Jonathan’s version of the story a lot better. Their father was a coward. So the two had made Castle Byers later that night. That memory stayed strong, the rest of them faded. It felt far; in a distant, different life, perhaps, but he wasn’t granted that anymore, because now everything’s changed , to say the least. Will had a sister now. And a stepdad. Or rather a soon-to-be. It only took two weeks - two weeks after Starcourt - and suddenly, there was a ring on his mom’s finger. Three dates to an Italian restaurant, and bam!, engaged. Jonathan thought it was sweet, so much so that he started getting teary. Will thought it was going too fast. El surprisingly agreed. “There’s no way they’re in love,” Will had told Jonathan. “They’ve barely even dated. They barely even know each other.” “They dated in high school.” “Thirty years ago.” “They’re friends. They work well together. They make each other happy. Mom’s happy,” Jonathan said. “I honestly can’t picture her with anyone else.” “Seriously? What about Bob?” “Bob is gone.” “Yeah, and it hasn’t even been a year.” “Yeah, and she misses him. But she isn’t going to wallow in the past forever. Things change.” They bought a house on the outskirts of Hawkins, a nice house, almost about the size of the Wheeler’s. Mike and Max went to the cabin to help El pack, Lucas and Dustin went with Will. They sat in the living room, surrounded by boxes; things to go and things to stay. Dustin pulled out Will’s purple wizard costume. “You should totally wear this to Hellfire.” “Absolutely not,” Will said, throwing a couple old toys into a box. “Jeff would never let me live it down.” “Eddie’d like the commitment,” Lucas countered. “Even if you look like a shiny grape.” They moved in about a month later. It would take another month for the Byers’ house to sell. By that time, all five of them were already done and settled in at the new place, but it still stung to know that that house - the house he lived in for fourteen years - would no longer be his house, especially after all they had gone through there. Hopefully, the new owners didn’t tear down the new wallpaper, otherwise, they’d be very confused as to why the alphabet was permanently painted on it. El and he had mirror rooms, identical rooms back to back. Calling her his sister felt so surreal, almost unrealistic. “You’re going to have a telekinetic as a sister,” Dustin said. “Has that hit you yet, Byers?” “What does she think about it?” Lucas asked, folding up Will’s shirts. “She’s…mumbly,” Will said. “But she did say that she’s happy that my mom is going to be her ‘like-mom’, but isn’t happy that she’s going to be sharing Hopper with her.” “Like she hasn’t been doing that already,” Dustin joked. “What’s a ‘like-mom’?” Lucas asked, to which Will shrugged. “She still has a mom.” “Right.” One Saturday night, Jonathan, Will, and Eleven had been watching A Nightmare On Elm Street while Hopper and Joyce had been out shopping for the wedding. They had only gotten to a certain part in the movie when Will heard El start to breathe heavily. There had been a lot of gore in the previous scene, so Will just thought that El might have gotten scared for a moment. But after a few minutes passed, Will noticed that her breathing had gotten worse. It was hitched and unstable, quick and choppy. Jonathan calmed her down. From that point on, it just got worse and worse. After a series of panic attacks and night terrors that would occur on a regular basis, Dr. Owens eventually gave her a diagnosis and a prescription, both of which El continuously rejected, making it very clear that she did not like or trust Dr. Owens. “They’re all the same,” El told him. “He saved my life,” Will countered. “He helped me.” “You and I are different.” But even still, more often than not, Eleven would wake up screaming, crying, panicking, or sometimes all three. And this Will knew, because one, the walls between their rooms were not the thickest, and two, he also had his fair share of nightmares. Most were about the Upside Down. Others were about the Mindflayer, And then there were some about his dad. Those were always the worse; not because of the fear, but rather the realism. Like the one tonight. It had him startled enough that his hands reached to the nightstand for his inhaler. The Upside Down had messed up his lungs enough, and he was given strict instructions not to risk it. Will laid down in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The noises of Hawkins came to life, car engines on the street, the birds chirping. The rest of the world would be up soon. Another day to face. And not a good one, he already knew. The anniversary effect, Dr. Owens called it. There was a quiet knock on the door, and Will rolled over on his side. “Come in.” Will didn’t think he’d ever get used to Hopper walking into his bedroom to make sure he was awake rather than his mom or Jonathan “Morning,” Hopper said, holding his beige hat in his hands. Will smiled vaguely. “Morning. You and Mom going to work now?” The chief smacked his lips. “Yep. So, I guess I’ll see you later?” “Oh. Yeah.” (It was times like these when Will really missed Bob, not because he would’ve preferred him as a dad, but because he always had a way of making things less tense than they actually were. And he always wondered if Bob had not been mauled to death, would he have actually become Will’s dad?) Will got ready as fast as he could; grabbing his shoes and hobbling down the stairs. El and Jonathan were already seated at the table, the former engaged in the puzzles from the back of the Frosted Flakes box. “Morning,” Jonathan greeted when he saw Will. “Hey,” Will replied, grabbing a bowl from the cabinet and the milk carton from the refrigerator. “Jonathan, what’s the English band known for Dark Side of the Moon called?” El asked, studying the backside of the cereal box. “It’s for a crossword puzzle.” “Pink Floyd. 1973.” El quickly scribbled the words in the boxes before Will took the cereal out of her hands. “Pink Floyd sucks anyways,” he said. “The Clash is better.” “I don’t know whose brother you are, but you’re definitely not mine,” Jonathan said, putting his bowl in the sink. He leaned down and whispered in El’s ear, “Whatever he says about music, don’t listen to him.” “Ha ha, very funny,” Will said, watching Jonathan turn the living room upside down. “What are you doing?” “I can’t find my keys.” Will glanced at his watch. “It’s only seven. We’ve still got an entire hour.” “I told Nancy I’d take her to school.” “Again: we have an hour.” “They’re probably going to make out in the car,” El said. “That’s why.” “Ew.” “Also, tell mom I won’t be back until later,” Jonathan added. “Nancy and I are going to the movies after school. Will rolled his eyes. “Again? Isn’t it the third time this week?” “He has to,” El said. “To show her that he loves her.” “There are other ways to show someone that you love them,” Will muttered. “You don’t need to take them to the movie theater every other day.” “And how would you know that? You’ve never had a girlfriend,” El said. Will groaned. “I don’t need a girlfriend to know that. It’s common knowledge. Besides, when’s the last time Mike took you to the movies?” El rolled her eyes. “He can’t and you know that. Hop won’t let us go anywhere alone.” “I rest my case.” “Hey, quit it,” Jonathan called from the living room. “I’m just trying to spend as much time as I can with her.” “Like mom and dad,” El chimed. (Will also didn’t think he would ever get used to hearing El call his mother ‘mom’). “They didn’t have time to wait, and neither do we,” Jonathan said, quoting what Joyce had told them the night of the engagement. “College comes a lot sooner than you think and besides, I’m sure we’re not the only ones who think that way. It’s normal.” Jonathan finally quit. “I’m gonna go look upstairs.” “Why haven’t you ever taken a girl to the movies?” El stood up and put her finished bowl in the sink. Will shrugged as he swallowed a spoonful of cereal. “Don’t want to.” “Max told me that a girl in her math class has a crush on you. Lindsay Hart. Maybe you should take her out,” El suggested. “I highly doubt that she has an actual crush on me,” Will said. “It’s probably just because all the good boys are taken. And even if it were true, I still wouldn’t take her out.” El looked at him in a strange way. “Why not?” “Because it’s gross. And I’m not interested in any girls,” he replied dryly. “That’s…weird.” Will rolled his eyes again and continued to eat his cereal as Jonathan came back down the stairs, holding an orange pill bottle in his hand. He simply handed it to El, whispered something into her ear, and continued packing his bag, “Alright, I’m out. If anything happens-,” “Call the station,” Will replied. “Yeah, exactly that,” Jonathan said. “I’ll see you guys later… shit, I’m going to be la-.” His last sentence was cut off by the loud slam of the front door, his car roaring to life outside. Dates are weird. Will lifted his bowl to his mouth to finish off the rest of the milk and added it to the growing pile of dishes. “Whose turn is it for the dishes tonight? Mine or yours?” He asked, peering down in the sink. “I dunno,” El muttered, twisting the bottle around in her hands. “I’ll do it- I guess.” Will watched her steadily. “Where’d you hide them this time?” “Hide what?” She mumbled, even though Will knew she already knew the answer. He pointed at the bottle. “Where did you hide them?” “Inside my pillowcase.” Will couldn’t hold in his scoff as he grabbed their backpacks from the couch. “Is that what Jonathan told you? To stop hiding them?” El nodded in defeat. “Yeah. It’s pathetic, I know.” Will shrugged. “Could be worse.” “It’s not like they even help,” El exasperated. “They just make me feel…” “Worse?” “No. Not worse…I don’t really know how to describe it,” she leaned against the counter, eyes still on the bottle. “Well, take them or don’t,” Will said, handing El her backpack. “It’s not like I’m going to force you to.” “If I don’t, will you tell Mom and Dad?” (There it was again). “I’m not a snitch,” Will scoffed. “Snitch?” “Tattletale. It’s really up to you, El. Deal with it or don’t.” She raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing. “I’ll be outside,” Will finished, swinging his bag over his shoulder. He closed the door with a loud slam and headed for his bike that was laying on the porch, right on top of Eleven’s. Initially, Will felt bad for letting her get away with not taking the medicine, even though he already knew she wasn’t going to, even without his words. Whatever reasoning she had for hiding them every day and avoiding taking them was her business, but if she wanted to deal with the panic attacks and constant anxiety, she could. But that didn’t mean he understood why she always refused. Will heard the door close behind him, turning around as Eleven picked up her bike. “Did you take them?” She looked at him. “Don’t snitch.” George Washington scared the shit out of Will sometimes. In history class, Will sat right under a big Washington poster; anytime he looked up, George would be staring right back at him. Sometimes, Will felt as if George was somewhat judging him. To see if he was a good, red- blooded American, or something. And Will must not be; the way George stared at him with a frown like he had just licked a sour lemon. (Are good red-blooded Americans fa-) Will felt a sharp poke in his back. “Hey, Byers.” “Yeah?” “Did you get number twelve on the notes?” Dustin asked. “I can’t find it in the book.” Will glanced at the sheet of notebook paper on his desk. For the past hour, he had been lost in his own thoughts - listening to the scribbling of pencils, counting down the clicks of the clock, trying not to stare at Washington right above his head - all while his notes remained empty. “Nope. Didn’t get any,” Will whispered. “Sorry.” Dustin frowned. “None at all? Then what the hell have you been doing this whole time?” Will shrugged. “Daydreaming, I guess. Or I’m just tired.” “Dude-,” “Mr. Byers, Mr. Henderson,” the teacher called out suddenly. “Is there something you two would to share with the class?” A few classmates started to snicker. (Will had a strong dislike for Mr. Andrews from the beginning, and not just because he always looked like he would rather be somewhere else than in a smelly old classroom teaching history to high schoolers). “No, sir.” “No.” “Then return to your notes.” Out of the corner of his eye, Will noticed a brown-haired girl flashing a shy smile at him and Dustin, almost as if she thought them getting called out made them cute or something. Dustin grinned back at her, and Will just turned around awkwardly in his seat. He was pretty sure her name was either Michelle, or Danielle, or something that ended with an ‘elle’, but he never really paid attention to the girls in his class. (How many girls’ names even end with ‘elle’?) Minutes passed, but Will didn’t pick up his pencil once. His eyes were trained on his lined paper, but no words were added to it. The ticking of the clock grew louder as the seconds kept drifting away. But Will paid no mind to them. He must’ve zoned out for a while because he suddenly noticed Mr. Andrews standing in front of his desk, arms folded and a frown on his wrinkly face. “Mr. Byers,” his teacher began. “Where are all your notes?” “I didn’t take any,” Will admitted blankly. “I got sidetracked.” “For an hour?” Mr. Andrews questioned. “I don’t see how that’s possible.” Will was saved from answering with the sharp ring of the lunch bell. He quickly began to gather his stuff and right before he was about to stuff his paper into his backpack, Mr. Andrews snatched it off Will’s desk. With a sullen glare, the teacher started to collect the other students’ papers. “Dude, you’re so screwed. Empty paper equals automatic fail,” Dustin said, walking out into the busy hallway with Will by his side. “What’s your mom going to say?” “I don’t know. Probably nothing,” Will shrugged. “What about you? You said you couldn’t find number twelve.” “That’s one question, plus it was the last,” Dustin said. “And I found it at the last minute.” Will was about to say something snarky to him but realized after a few moments that Dustin was no longer next to him. He whipped around, only to see his friend talking to the same brown-haired ‘elle’ girl who had smiled at them in class. Both of them were smiling like the Cheshire Cat and giggling like maniacs. Shaking his head, Will walked away from the two and was swept into the sea of freshmen, sophomores, juniors, and seniors as he walked through the tall doors of the cafeteria, grunting irritably at a passing group of friends who were laughing and talking loudly as they pushed him out of the way. He shrugged it off he made his way towards the more deserted part of the cafeteria, in the far left corner of the building. “Hey, Zombie Boy!” Will whipped around to the source of the voice, sophomore Ken Hartley, and gave him a nice, long, middle finger. He was allowed to do that now. Will reached the table, Max and Lucas were playing an intense game of what appeared to be them throwing gummy bears into the air and catching them with their mouths. El was leaning her head into Mike’s shoulder and he had his arm wrapped around her as they watched Max and Lucas’ antics. (He suppressed a small pain in his chest as he watched them). “Hey Will,” Mike greeted as Will approached the table, sitting down next to him and El. “Where’s Dustin?” “Talking with some girl from class,” Will replied, pulling out his lunch. “Who?” Max asked, swallowing all the gummy bears in her mouth. “I don’t know,” Will said, biting into his sandwich. “Ends with e-l-l-e.” Suddenly, Dustin ran up to the table panting, his new Thinking Cap hat nearly falling off his head and his backpack slipping off his shoulders. “Sorry, I was talking to someone,” he said out of breath, sliding down next to Lucas. “What did I miss?” “Will tells us you were talking to a girl,” Max said, looking at Dustin with a mischievous look. “Anything you would like to tell us?” Dustin rolled his eyes. “Well, I was talking to a girl, but we weren’t talking about me. Remember, I’m a taken man. Suzie has my heart.” “Then who was it about?” Mike asked. “Will,” Dustin beamed. “She thinks he’s cute.” Upon hearing his name associated with the following adjective, Will nearly choked on his sandwich. “What?” Dustin nodded. “Yeah, Giselle Stewart. Pulled me out of the hallways after class. She told me that she thinks you’re really cute.” “And so does Lindsay Hart,” Max said. “Look at that, Will. Who knew?” “Lucas and Mike and I can be your wingmen,” Dustin offered. “We all have girlfriends, now it’s your turn.” “Maybe you can even get tips from Hopper, since he’s marrying your mom and all,” Max added. Will glanced at Mike for help, but he was too busy whispering something to Eleven to pay attention to him. The one person who knows won’t even help. “Well, you can, but it’s not going to work,” Will finally said. “Finding a girlfriend just isn’t my priority right now.” And never will be “Alright, but if you ever need assistance with a girl, leave it to me,” Dustin volunteered. “I think I’m starting to consider myself an expert.” Will nodded simply, vaguely hearing Max and Lucas crack a joke about Dustin’s love life. There was only one more class until school let out, which for Will was PE. While most Hawkins High students would kill to have PE last period, Will found himself begging for the class to be over. He dreaded PE for three simple reasons. One, the class was run by Coach Mevron, the varsity football coach, and possibly the strictest teacher in all the high school, which was some saying. Two, the class was full of jocks. The ratio of varsity football, baseball, and basketball players compared to what was considered “the normals” was ridiculous. Three, Will sucked at PE. He lacked both upper body and lower body strength. His muscles were nearly nonexistent. And Will couldn’t even do a push-up to save his life. It was hilariously stupid that someone who could survive in the Upside Down couldn’t even do a push-up. The only good thing about PE was that Mike was in Will’s class. It was the only class they had alone because either another Party member was there or they were just separated. “Alright, ladies!” Coach Mevron’s voice boomed inside the gym. “I need each of you to find a partner, because today, is a fitness day.” A series of loud groans came from all the boys. No one liked fitness days. Coach Mevron raised his eyebrow threateningly. “Oh? So would you boys like to run the track for an hour? Because I will gladly allow you to do so!” None of the boys spoke a single word. Coach Mevron nodded satisfied. “Now, all of you find a partner.” Will didn’t even need to think; he just headed over to Mike. They kind of had a friendship minority of two scrawny nerds in the midst of 200-pound athletes. It was survival of the fittest. Will tensed his body as he curved upwards for a sit-up, Mike holding his feet down. In the background, Coach Mevron was yelling insults at one of the other boys, Gregory Olson, whose sit-ups were complete disasters. “Poor Greg,” Mike said quietly to Will. “Glad that’s not me,” Will replied as he went for another sit-up. “Will, I need to ask you something,” Mike said. “Sure,” Will exhaled as he pushed himself back up. “It’s about El.” Go figure. “What about her?” “Is she…doing any better?” Mike asked hesitantly. “I don’t know,” Will replied, completing another sit-up. “Why?” “Because she seemed kind of…on edge during lunch. Off, I guess,” Mike explained. “I could tell. I just didn’t want to ask her out loud in front of everyone, so that’s why I thought I’d-,” “Ask me?” Will completed the sentence breathlessly as he laid flat on the gym floor. “Yeah.” Will sat up. “How am I supposed to know what she’s feeling?” “I don’t know,” Mike said. “Maybe she talked to you or you saw her take the pills-,” Oh. Right. “That’s more of a question for her. I can’t really answer that,” Will interrupted. Mike glanced at him. “Why not? You two live together, you would’ve seen if she did or if she didn’t.” “Well, I mean, I lived with Jonathan for fourteen years, and I’ve never seen him taking massive shits before,” Will said, shrugging. “Plus, it’s not me you should ask, it’s El.” “I want to, but I can’t-,” Mike stammered. “Don’t boyfriends and girlfriends tell each other everything?” “Yeah, but you know how sensitive she is about that stuff. So if I ask her, she’ll just brush it off,” Mike said. “Well, what do you expect her to do?” Will asked. “I don’t know,” Mike sighed. “I just thought since you guys have been through similar things that maybe she might be closer to you and tell you things that she doesn’t-,” “Tell you?” “Pretty much,” Mike sighed dejectedly. “So I didn’t know if she talked to you at all about it.” Will wasn’t into the whole ‘friend’s don’t lie’ thing like El was. He’d grown up. Sometimes, you had to lie. “Nope,” he said simply. “I only know the same things you do.” Mike opened his mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by Coach Mevron shouting across the gym. “Wheeler, Byers!” His voice echoed loudly across the gym. “Both of you, twenty more sit-ups! This isn’t a tea party, we don’t sit around lollygagging! In fact, I want three laps around the gym from you both after class!” The rest of the boys in the class started to laugh, but that was completely shut down when Coach Mevron started yelling at some jocks near the pull-up bars. Will laid back down on the floor and continued his sit-ups. Curse you, Mevron. “Fine,” Will finally said on his tenth sit-up. “I’ll talk to her. But if you want any more information, you’ll have to do the rest.” “Thanks, Will,” Mike smiled. Will’s heart leapt in his chest. Will did talk to El. Or at least he tried to. They had been riding their bikes home from what Dustin called ‘a Palace Arcade Dig Dug Championship’ - (which was literally just Max and Dustin fighting the entire time -when Will first brought up the topic at a crosswalk. But El didn’t want to hear it. “Mike was worried about you,” Will had said. “He’s always worried about me,” El replied. “Some couples don’t even give a shit about each other. You should be grateful that he cares about you the way he does.” “I am. I love him,” El said matter-of-factly. “He just treats me like a baby sometimes.” Now that was something Will could definitely relate to. But even so, it didn’t give him a reason to stop the conversation. “But he’s not wrong. He said you seemed off.” She didn’t reply, so Will just continued. “Plus, you seem on edge right now.” “No, I’m not,” El defended immediately. Will rolled his eyes. This was exactly what he expected from her. It would’ve been way easier for Mike to talk to her because she would act totally different with him. “It’s because you didn’t take the pills this morning, isn’t it?” Will said, trying to use a bit of psychology he picked up from Dr. Owens at one of his many therapy visits post Upside Down. “No!” El said in a hard tone. Will could clearly see that she was trying to convince herself of someone they both knew wasn’t true. “Look, Mike just wanted me to make sure you were okay,” he said. El braked on her bike and snapped around to look at him with a sole piercing stare. “You said you wouldn’t snitch!” “I didn’t!” Will exclaimed in his defense. “He figured it out on his own!” She huffed and began to pedal on her bike again. Her feet went hard and strong against the pedals like her frustration was powering the bike. She went far ahead of him and soon disappeared after turning a corner. Fine then, let her be mad. Will slowed his pace on his bike, putting his feet on the concrete as a brake. He really didn’t feel like going home anymore. His friends’ houses were always an option, but he didn’t feel like going there either. At this point, Will just wanted to be alone. In his own space, in his own head, free to think about anything he wanted. And he knew exactly the place to do it. Right before Starcourt, Will had destroyed Castle Byers. He had hit it with a bat, tore it apart, right after a fit of rage between him and Mike and Lucas. He hadn’t returned to Castle Byers since Starcourt either, leaving what had once been his own special fortress as a pile of sticks in the middle of the woods. And the stupid thing was, he only started feeling the regret five months later. Do you remember the day Dad left? We stayed up all night building Castle Byers, just the way you drew it. And it took so long…because you were so bad at hammering. You’d miss a nail every time. And then it started raining, but we stayed out there anyway. We were both sick for like a week after that. But we just had to finish it, didn’t we? We just had to. He never had told Jonathan what he had done, and just led himself to just forget about it. And now that Will was nearing it, he could see that Castle Byers wasn’t the same way he had left it before. It was fully intact, almost like it had never been destroyed in the first place. Will gently traced the All Friends Welcome sign with the tip of his finger before sitting down on the mattress inside the fort. All his stuff was still here - his comics, his drawings, his D&D manuals. Even the picture of him, Mike, Lucas, and Dustin during the science fair was hanging up, right next to their repaired Halloween Ghostbusters picture. Someone else was here, Will thought as he touched the tape on the picture. Invaders in Castle Byers! Who is it?! A hoard of zombie knights! Again?! Will, your action? It’s up to you to defend Castle Byers! A twig snapped and Will looked up. A few feet in front of him was a tall, red-haired girl, wearing a Duran Duran tank top and holding the October edition of The Spectacular Spider Man comic book (which Will had been dying to get his hands on). And Will couldn’t have made things any more awkward by just…staring at her. Will the Wise was feeling like a stranger in his own castle. “...Hi,” the girl said, immediately breaking the tension. Will awkwardly waved his hand. “Er…hi.” Silence. Her mouth formed into a thin line as the quiet continued. “So…can I help you?” “Oh. Oh, yeah. I mean, no. I don’t need help,” Will stammered, standing up. “I was just leaving. Sorry-,” The girl looked at Will up and down, and then, without warning, raised her comic book behind her head, holding it like a weapon. “Who the hell are you?” Will jumped back, a bit startled by her sudden change in demeanor and not to mention, measly weapon. “Uh…Will. Will Byers.” “No, what are you?” she said, raising her comic higher. “I don’t believe in ghosts and that shit.” Will backed away, nearly falling into Castle Byers. “…I’m not a ghost.” “Then what the hell are you?” “Um…,” Will didn’t even know how to answer that. Then the comic book hit him right on the face. Will looked back at the girl as the comic fell onto the ground. She had her hands up in defense. “Just-, stay back. And if you try to fight me, just know I’m a blue belt in karate.” “I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Will said. “I’m not a ghost.” She lowered her hands ever so slightly. “A ghoul?” “What? No.” “A zombie?” Zombie? Ohhhhhhh. “Oh, don’t worry about that,” Will said, picking up the comic book and dusting off the dirt. “Those rumors aren’t true.” “Rumors?” “Yeah,” Will said, handing her the comic. “Or have you just never heard the tale of Zombie Boy?” She dropped her hands to her sides. “Wh-, so you’re actually not dead?” “Call me crazy, but I don’t think so.” “Ohhhh, so you’ve just been hiding this whole time. That makes more sense.” “Hiding…? “Yeah…hiding, right? From the town?” Will frowned. “Why would I be hiding?” “‘Cause you’re dead…,” her voice trailed off in confusion. “Or-,” “What are you talking-, I’m not dead,” Will said in confusion “Who told you I was dead? Who even are you?” “Wait, wait, let me just start over,” the girl extended her hand towards Will. “My uncle just bought a new house, right? The real estate agent told us that a kid had died there a few years ago and that’s why it wasn’t selling well, ‘cause it’s haunted and whatnot and that’s why the family moved away.” “Okay…?” “And so, while we were moving, I was walking through the woods and I came across this little beat-up fort, then after I poked around a bit, I found a bunch of pictures, and then the real estate agent pointed you out and he told us that you died and then your family left and-,” “Did you move to 419 Piney Lane?” Will asked. “Yeah, that’s the one. That house in the middle of nowhere,” she sighed. “But now, I’m confused because-,” “Because I’m standing right here and I’m not dead like you thought?” “I guess.” “Yeah, that was my old house. But we only moved because my mom and…stepdad bought a bigger house. Same town. And that agent obviously wasn’t up to date, because I didn’t really ‘die’. I got lost in the woods a few years ago and the cops thought they found my body but it was someone else and-, it was just a really big mess. That’s all,” Will explained. “Damn,” she said, a look of small disappointment on her face. “So that house isn’t actually haunted.” “Nope. But if you want real haunted, you should check out the Creel house or something,” Will added. “That place is supposed to be shit scary.” “Wicked,” she grinned. Will sat back down in Castle Byers. “So are you the one who put this back together?” “Yeah,” the girl nodded. “I just thought it be a nice tribute or something to rebuild it, but now that I say it outloud that just sounds super weird and creepy, but when the agent said ‘moved away’, I thought he meant like California or something, so I wasn’t expecting anyone to come back, let alone you, and that’s why I started hanging out here-,” she took a deep breath. “Sorry. I tend to ramble sometimes.” “It’s fine,” Will said, looking around the fort. “How’d you know what it looked like?” “I found a drawing. A pretty good one, actually,” she replied, sitting down next to Will. “It was just easy to pass time, building it back up, you know?” “Yeah,” Will nodded. “I built it with my brother the night our dad left. So-, this place is pretty special, I guess.” “I know how that feels,” she said. “Dads and stuff.” Will looked at her. “Yours left too?” “Died. Heart disease.” “Oh.” “Yep,” her mouth formed into a thin line again. “Hopefully Hawkins will be better to me.” Will laughed lightly. Hawkins Hell Indiana? He didn’t realize how late it was until he looked up at the sky, then at his watch. “Oh shit, I gotta go!“ “Right now?” “Yeah, my curfew is at six.” “Six? On a Friday night? ” “Yeah, because I didn’t ride home with my…, I’m just not supposed to be out alone this late.” “Oh.” Will grabbed his bike. “Uh, I’ll see you later, then?” She gave a small grin. “Yeah. Sure.” It wasn’t until Will was halfway home, did he realize that he had never caught the girl’s name. Will dropped the tines of his fork into his lasagna, small droplets of sauce spattering his plate. He never wasted a meal, but for some reason, he couldn’t force anything into his mouth. His mom and Hopper were talking about work or something like that, Will trying his best to seem invested in the conversation. Glancing to his left, he watched Eleven pick at her food, her lasagna still cut into a perfect square in the center of her plate. She looked unfocused, almost like she had just woken up from a long nap. Will leaned back in his seat and peered under the table. El was bouncing her leg up and down with no rhythm, and from the looks of it, she had no idea she was even doing it. He nudged her with his foot, and she snapped up, giving him a sharp (and a bit of a warning) glare. This is what he gets for trying to help. “Everything okay?” Joyce asked, causing Will to quickly turn his attention back to the table. “Peachy,” Will muttered. “Joyce, this is really good lasagna,” Hopper said. “I think I’d better look around for an empty Enzo’s container in the trash or something.” She tried to act offended, gently smacking Hopper on the shoulder. But Will could practically see the light in her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My cooking skills have… developed.” “And you’ve gone how many days without burning anything? Two, right?” Hopper chuckled. Joyce hit him again. “Okay, okay, I’m kidding, I’m kidding! It tastes delicious!” Will and El just stared at each other. “Oh, I talked to Karen earlier at Melvald’s,” Joyce started. “She said she thinks it might be better if Will and El walk the aisle together instead of El and Mike.” That definitely sparked El’s interest. “What?” “Well, as Maid of Honor and Best Man, her and Jonathan are walking together, Max with Lucas. Dustin’s our ring bearer, Holly the flower girl. That just leaves you two, Nancy, and Mike,” Joyce explained. “Why can’t Nancy just walk with Will then?” El asked. “She thinks it’s more- symbolic to have you two walk together to represent ‘the conjoining of families’,” Joyce added. “Why?” El asked the same time Will said, “Would anyone even notice?” “Yes, everyone would notice,” Hopper interjected. “Weddings don’t usually have a bunch of 14-year-olds in them.” El sighed. “…fine.” This felt like a hit to Will’s ego. He knew he wasn’t no Mike Wheeler, but seriously? “Can I go upstairs?” El asked suddenly. “I’m not very hungry.” Hopper and Joyce exchanged a swift but concerned look, “I mean, you can if you want to, but you’ve haven’t even eaten anything.” El shrugged. “Everything’s…okay, right?” Hopper continued pressing. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” El mumbled. Her voice sounded breathless. Will reached for his glass of milk to avoid eye contact with his mother or Hopper. “Well, okay,” Joyce said. “But if-,” Before she could even finish her sentence, Eleven was already out of her seat and up the stairs, her footsteps echoing in the house. It wasn’t long until the three heard a door slam upstairs. A moment of silence passed as Hopper and Joyce shared a knowing look and then turned to face Will. His own eyes darted between the two adults as he set down his glass. “What?” “El didn’t take her pills, did she?’ Joyce asked without hesitation. “I don’t know,” Will shrugged. He told El he wouldn’t snitch. So he won’t snitch. “I was working on the final details for the campaign this morning, so I didn’t see.” Joyce exhaled loudly and put her head in her hands. “I told Jonathan to make sure she took them. I told him-,” Will came in immediate defense for his brother. “It’s not his fault-,” He quickly caught himself. “He’s responsible enough. I’m sure he gave them to her before he left.” Joyce sighed again as Hopper stood up. “I’m gonna go talk to her.” The footsteps echoed through the house again, seconds later leaving the mother - son duo in the silence. Will cleared his throat to interrupt the silence, pushing his chair back, his appetite long gone. “I think I’m going to go work on the campai-,” “Will?” Joyce stopped him. He turned around, looking at her expectantly. “Yeah?” “Can you, please, please, look out for her?” “Huh?” Joyce sighed for the third time, and crossed the room to face her youngest son, giving him a gentle kiss on his forehead. “I know that sounds like a lot. But I know you’re strong.” Will felt his heart jump as she continued. “And El…she’s just not at her strongest right now and needs a little extra…support.” “I know,” Guilt flooded into Will as he put on his best face. “Can you just do that for me, please?” Joyce asked, her eyes watery. Will nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. “Of course.” His mother kissed him once again. “You’re a good brother.” Will gave another smile, as she patted his shoulder, heading up the stairs. As soon as she left, he let it fall. Exactly two years ago, Will Byers faced the Upside Down. He faced the Mindflayer and fell victim. He would spend five days possessed from that point on, and would go on to, unbeknownst, kill the man who his mom loved.  Will Byers was not an attention seeker. He’d always prefer to keep to himself. He put others first. But he knew this day would be hard for him. He knew the anniversary effect was going to hit him like a train. And it did. All day, deep in his mind, the memories of the Mindflayer plagued him, reliving the moment over and over again. But what hurt him the most? He faced it alone. No one had said anything about it. No one had asked if he was okay. He wasn’t. Will could’ve really used someone to talk to - his mother, his brother, his friends - just to work through it. Will was not a selfish person. And he hated his next thought. But where was his extra support, too? Chapter End Notes Thank you for reading :) Kudos are appreciated