Byler Oneshots <3

Horrible

Summary: a week after the mind flayer is burned out of will, he feels like shit.

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Wills eyes fluttered open, pain instantly hitting him in his side, where Nancy burned him. He softly groaned, sitting up on his bed.

His mom knocked on his door, walking in, holding a bowl of soup. She smiled at her son. "How are you feeling will?"

He shook his head. "I'm fine." He gave a small smile.

Joyce put her hand on wills head. "I brought you some soup—" she put her hand back down, grabbing the bowl. "It's a bit hot." She chuckled.

Will didn't smile, he just took the bowl, sitting it in his lap. "Thanks mom."

Joyce ruffled her sons hair. "Also..Mike said he wanted to come over. I just wanted to make sure it was okay with you?" She glanced at Will.

Will took a sip of his soup, nodding softly. Joyce smiled, mouthing an 'okay' before leaving the room.

Will sat on his bed. He felt like hell. He was most definitely getting a burn scar. It still hurt, a lot.

He still remembered everytime he would have an episode. It was horrible.

Will stared infront of him, thinking about the upside down.

It was cold and dark- like he said it was like home but a lot more empty. He remembered being trapped there too. Who wouldn't?

The only thing that kept him alive was singing his favorite song. But, he didn't like that song anymore since it reminded him so much of the upside down.

He always thought of his friends in the upside down. Oh, how much he wanted to go back to how things used to be. It was heart wrenching.

If only, on that night he stayed at Mike's a little longer. Maybe played for a little longer, or just, has a sleepover with Mike. Anything.

His thoughts were cut out whenever he heard Mike walk in.

Mike slid down next to will, staring at him. "Hey." His voice was soft.

Will got up, sitting his bowl down on his desk. He stood there, shaking a bit. "Hi." He mumbled.

Mike cleared his throat. "You okay? Do you need anything? Besided food- Joyce already got you soup, wait– do you want something different than soup?" He started to get up."I can get you s—"

Will cut off Mike's rambling. "Mike."

Mike sat back down. "Sorry."

Will shook his head, fidgeting with the watch on his wrist. Him and Mike had matching ones. "No, no. Its-it's fine. You're just worried. I get it." He stammered, glancing at Mike.

Mike nodded. "How are you anyways?" He looked up at Will.

Will slumped down next to Mike. "If I said I was fine I would be lying." He breathed out.

Mike placed his hand on wills. "I'm sorry. You must feel like shit."

Wills face flushed. "Uh yeah," he dryly chuckled. "I do."

Mike smiled. "Well, do you wanna draw? Maybe that'll make you feel better."

Will nodded. "Yeah uh, I'll get my art stuff." He  walked over to his desk, before pulling out a pack of colored pencils, along with some paper.

Will placed everything on the bed, carefully. He flopped on his bed, beside Mike, who was already laying down.

"What are you gonna draw?" Mike turned to look at Will, who was already sketching something.