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The screen door shut with a gentle shake behind him. His shoelaces were untied, bright yellow, but the only place he was going was the chair across the porch.
Will shoved it off as he sank down in Hopper’s rocker. Well—his stepdad’s, he guessed. Might as well start seeing him for what he would be.
Hmm. Forget all love, except his mom’s.
As the screen door creaked again, he heard light, slow footsteps making their way over. El bent over his head to squeeze him in a quick one-armed hug, before standing and taking a loud crunch from her pile of Eggos.
“Bye, ’m going to try ‘gain with Max,” she said through the food, before turning and dancing her way down the stairs. Now he was the last one home.
And Max was in a coma. He didn’t know how she could be so upbeat.
But just as she was halfway into the woods, blindfold in hand, El turned and her hand flew into the air with a smile. “Will! Lucas said he was going to come by today!”
And she was gone.
He sighed, leaning back in the chair. His head was swimming, pounding, and he kind of just wanted to go back to sleep. But if he went to sleep in the house alone, there was apparently a chance he wouldn’t wake up. Vecna’s bottomless Purse, or whatever.
If only he was like El, and could mess with Vecna back, he’d just sleep anyway. Nobody that carried a bottomless purse could be unbeatable, right?
This was an ache, deeper than words. Than Vecna. He had been like this before Vecna, and he would be after. God knows he didn’t choose this life, but he had come too damn far to quit on it now, or so everyone said.
The window next to him buzzed. He ignored it, too steeped in his hollow feeling.
But at that thought, it buzzed louder, light burning through his and El’s living room. Will picked up his head and looked over, squinting through the glass.
Yeah, the bulb was on. It had been dark a few seconds ago, but the light was steady…? The Upside Down made things flicker, didn’t it?
So he pulled himself out of his nice chair with a grunt, making his way back to the doorknob. As soon as his fingers brushed it, though, he jerked back, and stuck them all in his mouth. He felt stupid with how wide his eyes were, but the doorknob was hot. It could almost be an oven.
“Wha’ ha heck,” he muttered around his hand, then shook it out to try again. He used his shirt hem, this time, and did it quickly despite the singe. A burst of hot air to the face had him ducking back behind the wall. But from what he had glimpsed, it hadn’t…looked like anything was on fire.
He knew he should go get help. This was a situation they had prepared for, oddly enough—if there was someone in or something wrong with your house, get help. He should go find El, walkie the rest of the gang quietly with her, and do their best to stay out of sight and stay safe until help arrived. They were too close to the Creel House and the gate in the Munsons’ trailer for any close calls.
But…
Pots and pans were clanking as water ran in the kitchen, a voice whistling over the metal. This sounded exactly like they had described something Vecna-related, but something just…didn’t feel wrong enough.
The voice felt familiar. Like a warm memory to fall back into, as utterly bullshit and on-the-nose as it was.
So, yeah, he didn’t go for help.
Stepping in front of the door again greeted him with another wave of unbearable heat—okay?—but he covered his face, closed his eyes, and pushed his shoulder through.
On the other side, he stumbled, and caught the floor with a hand before it caught his face. He looked up, and realized he was just in his living room. Not a single thing was off, except for the washing sounds in the kitchen. He decided not to take the step, remembering that Vecna got people when they had no way out. The door was still open behind him.
And then the whistling stopped. The water squeaked off. “Jim? Joyce, is that you?” an all-too-familiar voice called out, nervous, and sweet.
Oh. What. Wha…?
He heard himself whisper, “Oh my god,” voice shaking down the middle. His eyes were burning sharper than the teeth that had killed him, killed that voice, and he was slammed with a thousand different memories at once.
Riding in the passenger seat of his car, every time.
Watching him grit his teeth as he told him to stand his ground.
Smiling as he snapped magnets back onto the fridge.
Waking up for the second time, back then, and remembering his mom telling him Bob didn’t make it. He had cried so hard, Mike had gotten worried, and hugged him as he sobbed into his shoulder.
That voice rounded the corner from the kitchen, now, face vaguely lost and confused. Bob’s face.
There wasn’t even any blood on his stomach. His body was whole, clean, still just as soft and chubby as Will remembered him, and he couldn’t help the sobs that started to break out of him. If he was going to die today, this felt like a good way to get carried on.
His mom’s old boyfriend was running over, falling on his knees next to him, and gripping his shoulder tightly. “…Will? It’s Will, isn’t it? You look different—what’s wrong, buddy, can you tell me?”
He pulled his arms around the man’s neck, still sobbing, and Bob held him close with a hand on his back. He rocked them side to side, shushing gently in Will’s ear, and he clung to him harder, hiding his face in the man’s big neck.
“Hi, buddy, it’s okay, let it out,” Bob muttered, clearly still very confused but hugging Will anyway on the floor of his mom’s new boyfriend’s house, speaking to him like he was worth everything even if he wasn’t even his girlfriend’s kid anymore.
“You—you’re dead,” Will sobbed, heaving a giant breath and pulling back to face the music.
Bob’s eyebrows were pulled tight, but his face was serious, and kind, and he hoped Bob liked him as much as he acted like he did.
“I…Oh,” Bob said slowly, keeping a firm grip on Will’s shoulders. He suspected it was for himself as much as Will. “Yeah. That—makes sense. I don’t remember a lot about—the end? But…I guess I woke up here, huh? After I died. I’m just wandering around by myself. But this is Jim’s place, isn’t it?”
Will sniffed, nodding. “Yeah, we all live here now. After our house—we moved to California for a while, and then El got kidnapped, and—”
“El?” Bob’s shoulder-grip softened. “Is that—she’s the magic little girl with slicked-back hair who met us at the lab, right?”
“Yeah.” He sniffed again, looking at the ground.
Bob started to stand up, and Will joined him, offering a hand to help him to his feet.
“Just to be clear, you’re not Vecna, are you? Because you really don’t feel like it, but I guess you never know…”
Bob looked at him strangely, and then laughed, his face warm and vaguely sad. “I don’t even know who Vegna is, Will,” he confessed, and it was such a relief, he sighed and gave a small smile back. A hand on his back guided him to sit down on the couch, and Bob sat next to him, tucking Will to his side in a hug.
“So, tell me,” the man started quietly, “what’s your life like, now?”
This felt safe. Even if it did turn out to be the mysterious Vecna, any version of Bob was already so much better than Lonnie. He liked Hopper, too, and how he gave him his sister, but Bob was his own kind of special.
“Well,” he said softly, “me and Jonathan have a sister now. Almost. Mom can’t quite adopt her, yet, because El’s powers are wanted by pretty much all of the government, but someday she will be. Or when my mom marries—uh, I’m sorry, did…you know?”
“I suspected,” Bob said gently, staring at the deer plaque on the wall. He smiled, squeezing Will’s shoulder. “As long as Jim treats her right, good for him. The strongest woman I’ve ever known deserves to keep going.”
Will smiled with him. “Yeah. And Jonathan is dating Nancy, now—remember her?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I haven’t forgotten any of you.”
“Sorry.” He took a breath before going on. “Mike is dating El, too. Which…kind of sucks, but it’s whatever. It’s not like I care, care, it’s just—my best friend and my sister, you know? And he wrote to her every week while we were in California, but I never got a single thing. And I know it’s all on my side, but it’s just hard, you know? I…” He sucked a deep breath. “I guess you wouldn’t, really, but…”
“Will.” Bob’s voice was soft. “Friends being jerks is never easy, okay? There’s nothing you could ever say, good or bad or anything in between, that would ever make me blame you for any of it.”
“But you can’t blame Mike, either,” he argued, pulling away on the couch to put some distance between them. “Because, like, none of it is his fault, too. He didn’t…” His voice trailed off, and his throat felt tight. He looked away, half-begging the universe to let a portal open and Vecna appear. “I…It is all me. It is. Because I’ve never…”
Bob stayed apart, letting him finish. “Will? It’s okay. No matter what it is.”
Oh.
Was this why he was brought here?
This sucked.
They sat in silence for a few long moments, and he was shaking. His whole body was shaking, and he really felt like crying, and he kind of wanted to throw up.
But he kind of wanted to get it over with. And it’s not like he could tell, anyway. Despite this situation…he was…
Damn it. Damn it. Alright, he was telling Bob. Just getting it over with.
“I’ve never liked a girl,” he spat out, quickly, his nerves making him shudder. Tears started to spill over. There was no way Bob was serious about accepting him with this…condition. “I…I like boys, Bob. Just guys. More than friends, sometimes. I can’t help it, I’ve always been this way, okay? As long as I can remember. The whole…town, has been right about me, forever.”
The room was quiet.
Bob reached over to take Will’s hand, and slowly pressed it between both of his. “Thank you,” he said earnestly, voice shaking from the force of it. “Will. Thank you so much, buddy.”
“Yeah, well, you may be my mom’s straight ex-boyfriend, but I found you in our cabin in the woods when you’re supposed to be dead and I’m supposed to be home alone,” he shrugged, laughing wetly. “Screw my life, I guess. You’re the first.”
“No, no, Will—” Bob reached out and laid a hand on his arm gently, and Will fell back into him, letting the man wrap his arms around him. “I’m so happy for you, buddy. I was before and I am now, and your mom and your brother will be, too, if or when you decide to tell them. And your sister, and Jim,” he continued, “and the rest of your Party, Will, they love you so much. They could never hate you for just this,” he said. His arms were still so tight around him, holding him close despite the shivers in his back.
It felt like he was swallowed in grief again. God, this was hard.
He wanted to believe him. He didn’t yet, but…he was sure he was right about some of it. Jonathan and Mom, mostly. But if he could be right about some of it…
Will drew a shuddering breath and let his eyes close, listening to the sounds of the cabin. His life. Bob’s after.
It felt fitting, that they were sort of the same. He could still hear Bob’s heartbeat, right now, and he was warm and solid and still so sweet. He didn’t know what he would do without him.
It had been a really, really hard first couple days back in Hawkins. Things had been bad, with Vecna constantly in his head, and all.
He reached up to hold his arms and took another slow breath, trying to sync it with Bob’s. ”Things are gonna be okay, right?” he asked, half-hoping he didn’t get an answer.
But Bob just firmly kissed the top of Will’s. “Yeah, buddy, of course,” he replied, rubbing his hand up and down Will’s arm.
“And…and if not…you’ll be here?”
He heard a sad sigh from behind him, but the hug tightened anyway. Bob spoke softly, with infinite patience: “Always.”
Always…
He felt like he was shaking a bit less, now. Life or death…obviously life was preferable, but however the dice fell…
A deep breath, finally synced, and Will opened his eyes.
The door was still open, but it was a beautiful outside view. Green was everywhere, billions of shades of the color of life, and you could see the road from here.
He jumped a little when an adult-size bike whizzed past the open space, and Bob laughed a little.
Oh. Lucas.
He chuckled with Bob, sitting up and craning his neck to watch his friend.
Lucas had slid to a stop in the driveway, leaving a tire rut in the dirt, which he was now looking at in minor dismay. Will smiled. Lucas glanced up at the house—but he didn’t look at them—and back at the tire, before grimacing with his jaw. It was the first time he had been out of the hospital all week. His mouth moved, saying something indecipherable, and he simply let the bike fall, leaving it there as he climbed the porch steps.
His footsteps on the wood had been obvious, creaky, but when he stepped through the door, Lucas vanished. He was silent and invisible, now, and everything was almost as it was before they’d seen Lucas pull up.
It’d really been fun. And not fun. But mostly, definitely good. He turned to Bob, half-expecting him to be gone, too, but the man was still very clearly there.
He smiled happily at Will, eyes crinkling around the edges in that way he had been sure his mom loved. “Go ahead,” Bob told him tenderly, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder again.
Will grinned, scoffing, and leaned in for a hug. Bob met him halfway, and they sat there, arms around each other, for a minute.
“Thank you,” Bob whispered, “for being you.”
Will’s heart stuck in his throat, but it was joined by a little, disbelieving skip in his stomach, this time. He felt happy.
Really happy.
“Thank you,” he whispered back, and Bob laughed and let go.
His one-time teacher in unfortunate courage grinned back at him, eyes unbelievably soft. “No,” he joked, head tilting forward, “it’s all you. Now go see your friend,” he encouraged, “and don’t worry about me.”
Will gave him one last, quick side hug before jumping off the couch, straightening his shirt and running his hands over his face. He took a step towards the door, darted back for one last hug, and skipped over.
With one hand on the doorknob, he looked back. Bob was still smiling at him, happy, hands together in his lap.
Something like a mockingbird soared in his chest. “I’ll never forget you,” he promised.
Bob chuckled. “I know, bud.”
Really, he was so happy for this weird, exclusive opportunity. “Ever.” He flashed one last, big smile, and took the final step outside.
Ha. Out.
…Nevermind.
“Will?” a deeper voice asked behind him, startled. “When’d you get there?”
He turned around—Lucas, laying on his couch where they had just been, with a bowl of chips on his stomach and his head craned back over the arm—and smiled.
Instead of answering, he took three long steps over to where Lucas lay, and swiped the bowl to sit in the armchair. At Lucas’ squawk, he smirked, and stuck a chip in his mouth.
His friend threw an arm over his face, groaning in possibly very real distress. “My chips, Will,” he complained weakly. The arm came down to give him a glare. “My chips.”
Will laughed, and tossed one at Lucas. “Our kitchen.”
He caught it, looked surprised and delighted with himself, and immediately popped it in and started crunching.
“Really, it’s like you forget you’re a basketball player,” Will scoffed, smirking.
Lucas stared right back with the most deadpan face. “Well, don’t be too upset.”
He choked on a laugh. “Are you serious?”
“I’m serious about a lot of things, Byers!” He started to sit up, slow like an old man after years and years of arthritis. Then he glanced back at Will, one eyebrow raised. “You seem happy.”
He was tempted to burst into laughter at how true it was, leaning back in the chair. “Yeah.” He smiled. “I guess I am.”