Chapter Text
William Byers is sixteen when his best friend’s father holds a gun to his head and forces his family to make an impossible choice.
“Suspended from duty,” Ted Wheeler muses. He sits in his armchair like it’s a throne, flanked by men in suits with bruises darkening their knuckles.
Chief of Police Jim Hopper lies beaten and bloody at their feet.
“You’ve made quite a mess, Jim.”
“It’s… it’s temporary,” Jim groans. “Sara’s birthday, I was… drinking on the job.”
Across the room, Joyce Byers lets out a strangled sob. The daughter from Jim’s first marriage died at only seven years old. It was a loss he never fully learned to live with.
Hopper did the best he could in the aftermath: adopting Jane, marrying Joyce, and becoming a father figure for Will and Jonathan. It was rare for him to fall back into old habits.
But he had, and here they were, at the mercy of the city’s most notorious crime family.
“Suspended officers tend to get desperate. Loose-lipped.” Ted leans forward slightly. “What are the chances you’ve run your mouth about our operations to your fellow boys in blue?”
Jim shakes his head vigorously.
Law enforcement is hardly ignorant of the Wheelers’ crimes to begin with. Hell, the entire city knows what kind of business they’re running. The trouble is that no one ever managed to prove it.
With cops like Hopper on their payroll, they likely never will.
“No?” Ted raises an eyebrow. “Then what about now? Turning on us might get you reinstated. Perhaps even promoted.”
“Not a chance in hell,” Jim’s answer comes fast, but the panic underneath is unmistakable. “Not… not after everything you’ve done for my family.”
It was true that the Wheelers had been generous to them over the years. Their son Michael is best friends with Will. Their daughter Nancy is oddly infatuated with Jonathan. Even Karen sometimes invites Joyce over for a glass of wine.
Ted’s gaze drifts, unhurried, to Will and his siblings.
“Your family.” He repeats. “Yes, I think that’s it. Michael, Nancy - why don’t you and your friends join us?”
Will inhales sharply as a hand comes to rest on his back. He would recognize the touch anywhere.
“Mike?” He whispers.
“It’s me. It’s okay,” Mike murmurs, voice low and steady against his ear. “I won’t let you get hurt. I promise.”
Will lets himself be guided forward, Jane and Jonathan close behind. Mike never made promises he can’t keep. They’ll be fine. They have to be.
Friends don’t lie.
Will clings to the thought like a lifeline.
A few of Ted’s men haul Jim upright, and Joyce rushes to his side.
“What… what is this?”
“A proposal,” Ted says. “To tie our families together for good. To ensure your loyalty. Always.”
Jim stares at the document pressed into his hands. “You don’t mean—”
“You’ve raised your children well,” Ted continues. “Excellent students. Capable fighters. They even manage to keep my heirs in line for the most part.” A faint smirk tugs at his mouth. “All the qualities necessary for a Wheeler spouse.”
Silence falls heavy over the room.
Jane stares at Ted like he’s sprouted a second head. Jonathan’s gaze snaps to Nancy. She meets his eyes, and a silent understanding passes between them. Within seconds, his brother schools his face into careful neutrality.
Will glances up at Mike, hoping to glean something from him. They’ve been able to read each other since they were kids. They could have entire conversations without a single word. It always drove their mothers crazy.
Mike isn’t looking back.
He stares straight ahead, expression flat and unreadable. His hand stops rubbing soothing circles on Will’s back. His thumb begins tapping a quick, anxious rhythm along his spine instead.
“How dare you talk about my children like that?” Joyce shrieks. “Like property. Like something to buy.”
“Mrs. Byers, I assure you I’m not buying your children,” Ted replies coolly. “I’m trading them.”
“You motherfucker.” Jim lunges forward. The room answers with a symphony of metallic clicks as every henchman raises their weapon in unison. “You’re not taking my kids.”
Cold metal presses against Will’s forehead, and he finds himself staring down the barrel of Ted Wheeler’s gun.
The room collapses into noise and motion and shouting, but it all sounds distant, muffled, wrong. His world narrows to the gun at his head and the hand on his back. Mike’s fingers are tapping faster now.
Morse code.
Will tries to focus on the pattern, tries to count the taps the way Mike taught him, but it keeps slipping away. His mind goes numb. A single tear slides down his cheek.
“I want you to think very carefully about what you say next,” Ted fixes Will with a look of disdain before turning his attention back to Hopper. “You jeopardized our operations. I could easily dispose of you and your family. I offer you an opportunity instead, and this is how you react to my generosity?”
It’s his brother who steps forward, calm and collected amidst the chaos.
“I’m sorry, sir. Your offer is very generous,” Jonathan says evenly. “I think my parents’ initial reactions are, um, compounded by the high-stress environment. We are honored to be held in such high esteem.”
Ted studies him for a long moment. Then the gun lowers.
Will’s knees give out. The world tilts violently as he collapses backward into Mike, nearly sending them both tumbling to the ground. Jane is at his side in seconds, pulling Will’s arm over her shoulders to help support his weight.
“You’ve always been the smart one,” Ted remarks. “If your parents have half the mind you do, they’ll make the right choice.”
Jim clears his throat. “What are the terms, exactly, of this… contract?”
“One of your children marries one of mine. It’s as simple as it gets,” Ted replies with exasperation, patience finally wearing thin. “The rest can be negotiated. But you will sign now, or face the consequences.”
He snaps his fingers, and an assistant hands Jim a pen. He looks warily at the paper in front of him, then meets his children’s gazes one by one. The question is evident on his face—they all nod.
Hands shaking, he signs.
“Excellent,” Ted clasps his hands together. “Now get out of my sight.”
8 years later...
There was no denying that the Hopper-Byers had delayed this wedding as long as possible.
With some convincing, Jane had been allowed to attend a four-year college. With even more convincing, a two-year master’s program. Within city limits, of course.
Will had been by her side every step of the way. But, after eight long years, the Wheelers were finally ready to collect their debt.
Everyone assumed it would be Jonathan and Nancy… including Jonathan and Nancy. But after a conflict with the Harrington family, Nancy had been wrangled into a marriage contract of her own. Still, no one had managed to drag her to the altar just yet.
So now it’s Jane fixing a veil into her hair with trembling hands, preparing to wed Will’s former best friend.
Not for long.
“You look beautiful,” Will says softly. He’s been tasked with walking her down the aisle, as Ted is convinced that Hopper will make a last-ditch effort to stop the wedding. He underestimates Will’s ability to do the same. “But you won’t be needing that.”
Jane turns, brows knitting together in confusion. “Why not?”
Will takes her hands in his. “Because you’re not getting married today. I am.”
“Will, no.” She shakes her head frantically. “You can’t.”
“I can,” He insists. “I read the contract. It just says that one of us has to wed a Wheeler. It doesn’t say who. I can marry Mike instead.”
Saying the words out loud makes his heart skip a beat. There was a time when he would’ve given anything for this.
“I know he was your friend once,” Jane whispers, eyes shining with tears. “But you know what they say about him now. He’s the most ruthless of his family. He kills without remorse. He takes mistresses left and right, and none of them come away unscathed.”
Each word lands like a bruise. “I can handle it, Jane. I promise.”
“How do you know he’ll say yes?”
“I don’t,” Will admits. “But I have to try.”
A voice, familiar and foreign all at once, spoke from the doorway.
“Try what?”
Will spins around, and there he is. Mike Wheeler in a white tuxedo.
This isn’t the gangly teenager Will remembers. He’s grown taller and broader, the definition of his arms visible beneath the suit jacket. There’s a confidence in the way he holds himself that wasn’t there before. Handsome enough that, for a moment, Will forgets to be frightened.
Rumors really didn’t do him justice.
Mike’s gaze settles on Will, steady and unreadable. Those eyes used to make him feel warm. Now they make him feel exposed.
“I asked you a question, Will.” He inhales sharply at the sound of his name on Mike’s lips. “I expect an answer.”
Well… speak now or forever hold your peace.
Will takes a deep breath before placing himself firmly between his sister and his childhood friend turned crime boss. “You won’t be marrying Jane today.”
“Is that so?” Mike takes a step closer. And another. Will forces himself to stay put, even though every instinct is telling him to run. “Who will I be marrying, then?”
The smirk on his face makes one thing clear - somehow, he knows exactly what Will is going to say next.
“Me. You’re going to marry me.”
The pause that follows is long enough for Will to begin to panic. But then-
“Leave us,” Mike finally says. Will opens his mouth to protest, only to realize the statement is directed at Jane.
She clings to Will’s side instead. “Please, he didn’t… he doesn’t know what he’s saying. He won’t interfere, I swear, just don’t hurt him.”
“Hurt him?” Mike raises an eyebrow, seemingly amused by her plea. “Why would I hurt my fiancé?”
Fiancé.
“Fiancé,” Will repeats dumbly, before his brain can catch up with his mouth. He could swear Mike smiles at that, but it vanishes so quickly he might have imagined it.
“There’s a dressing room next door,” Mike tells Jane. It’s a command, not a statement.
Even so, his sister looks up at him for final permission. “Will, I-”
“Go, Jane.” Will gives her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be there soon.”
Then the door shuts behind her, and Mike turns his attention back to Will. He keeps his gaze directed at the ground. There’s definitely a rule about not looking predators in the eye-
“Look at me, Will.”
Well, so much for that.
Will lifts his head, and his breath catches. The way Mike is looking at him… ‘intense’ doesn’t even begin to describe it. There’s something dark in his expression that Will can’t quite place. It sends a shiver down his spine.
“It would have been easier for us to leave,” Will blurts out, desperate to fill the silence. “To go to the other dressing room, I mean. Jane’s dress is really heavy, and she’s wearing these awful shoes, walking is basically a hazard-”
His rambling comes to a sudden stop when he realizes that Mike is laughing.
Then he’s smiling at Will, the same crooked grin that gave him butterflies when they were younger. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
Will swallows nervously. “That makes one of us.”
He regrets the words immediately, as any hint of playfulness drains from Mike’s expression.
“Is that what this is about?” Mike’s voice is deceptively soft as he crosses the room, invading Will’s space in two long strides. His back hits the wall. “Saving your sister from the big, bad mafia man?”
“The… the contract says I can,” Will replies defensively. “It has to be one of us, it doesn’t-”
Mike’s hands slam into the wall on either side of Will, caging him in.
“I didn’t ask how,” He growls. “I asked why.”
Will tries to come up with a strategic answer, but the sudden proximity makes it too difficult to focus. Too difficult to respond with anything but the truth.
“Jane has lived with this arrangement held over her head for eight years,” He replies quietly. “It’s dictated her entire life - where she could go to school, who she could be around, everything.”
Will could swear that a brief flicker of guilt crosses Mike’s expression.
“She’s never gotten to travel, or get a job, or go on a date, and… she deserves to.”
“More than you?” Mike asks curiously.
This time, Will doesn’t hesitate before answering. “More than anyone.”
Silence blankets the room. Mike is looking at him with a strange fondness.
Maybe this will work after all.
“So, um, you probably want to call off the wedding now.” Will stammers.
Mike raises an eyebrow. “And why would I do that?”
“Because you’re not…” Will trails off.
Not like me, he wants to say. Not in love with me, the way I used to be in love with you.
He tries to look anywhere but at Mike - a difficult task now that they’re only inches apart. “I mean, you might be able to cancel the contract if you wanted. And the alternative is, um, having to marry me. So I thought-”
Mike brings a hand up to grip his jaw, tilting Will’s chin until eye contact is unavoidable. There’s no fondness this time; only fury.
“I want you to listen closely, Will, because I’m only going to say this once,” He leans in, and Will shivers at the sensation of Mike’s warm breath ghosting over his cheek.
Is he going to… no… he can’t be.
“You are going to walk down that aisle, and you are going to marry me.” His heart thuds as Mike dips his mouth towards his ear, lips brushing against it as he speaks. “Or I will finish what my father started eight years ago.”
The threat makes his blood run cold. For a moment, Will had forgotten the reality of the person in front of him. This isn’t his friend, his first love, his Mike.
This is Ted Wheeler’s son.
“Nod if you understand.”
Will obeys immediately. He can’t be sure whether there’s any real danger to his family. He is sure, though, that he doesn’t want to find out.
“Then I'll see you at the altar.”
Mike releases his grip and steps away. The sudden absence of his warmth leaves Will feeling strangely unsteady, and he sinks into the nearest chair as the door swings shut behind him.
Eight years ago, Mike had promised that he would never let Will get hurt. Will had trusted him completely - because friends don’t lie.
Now, they aren’t close enough to be friends. They aren’t distant enough to be strangers. They aren’t adversarial enough to be enemies - at least, not yet.
It hits Will with a quiet, sinking certainty that there’s only one label that actually fits.
What they are now is engaged.
What they will be is married.