Interlude Will

"I love sharing a room with you, Will," Mike's voice pulled Will from his deep focus on his painting.

Ever since his mom took that job in Michigan, Will had been bunking with the Wheelers. Jonathan was doing his own thing, and even though Will had expected to crash in the basement—their usual spot for D&D and sleepovers—Mrs. Wheeler had other ideas. So, he ended up sharing Mike's room, which had become a bit cramped with an extra bed.

Putting his favourite paintbrush to the side—a gift from Dr Johnson that felt almost too special to use—Will capped his paint jars and turned to Mike. His friend was lying on his bed in a goofy position, his shirt having ridden up a bit. Sharing a room had definitely put a dent in their privacy. Like that one time Mike, paranoid about Eleven making a surprise appearance, roped Will into joining him in the shower. What was Will supposed to do if she had shown up? Politely ask her to wait outside? Give Mike a heads-up?

"Do I sense a 'but' coming?" Will asked, stretching his legs and back.

Mike snorted, amused by the word 'but'. "Just wish we had more alone time," he said, making air quotes around 'alone time'.

"I could go for a walk," Will suggested. "If you hog the bathroom again, Nancy's gonna hang you by your undies."

"Not right now, silly. Just generally," Mike replied hastily. "Besides, Nancy can't hoist me by my undies, she's not strong enough."

"She might get Steve to help," Will quipped, laughing at the mental image.

Mike pondered for a moment, then asked, "Isn't it weird that they're still together?"

Will shrugged. "Steve's really into it. Talks about kids and stuff."

Mike made a face. "He keeps trying to get me to play basketball with him."

Will smiled. "I like Steve. As long as he and Jonathan aren't at each other's throats." Which, thankfully, wasn't often. Only when Steve got a bit too insecure around Nancy. They mostly steered clear of each other, especially during the occasional family dinner at the Wheelers'.

Will's thoughts drifted to Jonathan. He missed his older brother. And his mom, too. The trips to Michigan for his check-ups at that secret lab were the only times he got to see her. Sure, staying with Mike was like a never-ending sleepover, but he missed the way things used to be.

"You know what's really weird? When Steve and Jonathan actually get along. Like when they tried setting Jonathan up with Barb," Will began.

Mike burst out laughing, and Will continued, "Or that gift for Nancy?"

"You mean when Steve convinced Jonathan to take a picture of him in just his underwear as a gift for Nancy?" Mike's laughter grew louder. "And then Jonathan accidentally dropped all those photos at school while trying to give them to Steve?"

They were both in stitches now, laughing at the memory. Sure, Will probably should've felt bad for Jonathan, but it was too funny.

"Can I see your painting?" Mike asked, catching his breath.

"Sure." Will handed it over. It depicted a boy, resembling Peter Pan, soaring in the sky. But there was a macabre twist—the boy was clearly dead, his flesh rotting, with a grotesque fairy beside him against a stormy backdrop.

Mike grimaced slightly. "It's intense."

"You don't like it?" Will asked, a hint of defensiveness in his voice.

"It's not that," Mike replied quickly. "It just looks like something from a metal album. Especially that fairy."

"Him," Will corrected with a smirk. "The fairy is male."