Oh, and I Meant To

The Bedroom

It was getting late at the hospital, and nurses and doctors were trying to get everyone out of Mike's hospital room. Which, just caused several protests that ended in the person gloomily leaving. Will and Nancy didn't put up much of a fight, but they still left last.

That was when Will was pulled aside by Nancy. "Hey um, do you think you could stop by our house tomorrow morning? Before coming here? I could- I could give you a ride, here, if you'd like," she asked, and Will made sure to say yes. Nancy's tone had been hushed,  and it was tired too. Her hair seemed frazzled, as she had been up for such a long time and was running her hands through her hair. The dark bags under her eyes were an unfriendly reminder of her resemblance to Mike.  This definitely wasn't easy for the Wheelers, especially Nancy and Mrs. Wheeler, and it probably had some effect on Holly too.

Will laid in bed that night, he probably wouldn't be able to sleep. He'd slept at the hospital, not for very long, but the anxiety in his chest surrounding Mike was too much for him to handle. He stared at the ceiling, trying to mute his thoughts, as the silence swept through the house. The Byers had gotten their old house back, as nobody seemed to want to buy it after they moved, so it had sat empty for seven months.

Will rolled over, facing the doorway, and a small part of him wished Mike would walk through that door. Instead, nobody came. Will sat up, leaning over and grabbing his worn copy of The Hobbit, as a distraction. The words swam around the page, as he stared at them, trying to make them legible.

Will gave up after a while, and he laid back down and shut his eyes, eventually being lulled into a dreamless sleep.

He woke up early, 6:45. He hurried to get dressed, and make himself look like less of a mess.

7:00. What would he do to waste the time? He sighed, turning to his small box of cassettes, selecting a random one as music quietly filled the room, he didn't focus on the words.

Then, somehow, it was 9:07. He left his room, making himself some toast and leaving quickly, to make it to the Wheelers' house early.

Mrs. Wheeler opened the door, she looked like she'd barely slept, and she was holding Holly. "Oh, hello Will," she quietly greeted. "Mrs. Wheeler-" "You do know you can call me Karen, right?" She said with a grin.

Will smiled a bit, and corrected himself, "Karen, hi. Is Nancy up?" He didn't have to ask, as Nancy came downstairs, ushering her mom into the living room and inviting Will inside. "Glad you could make it, listen; it's no big deal if you don't want to, but I was wondering if you'd want to go into M- his," she couldn't say Mike's name without tearing up, "room? Just to see, maybe, how it's changed? I also think he had something in there for you."

Will smiled a little, nodding as Nancy led him upstairs. He knew the Wheelers' house as good as his own, even though he hadn't been there for a while. They stopped outside of Mike's room, as Nancy wordlessly left to go help her mom with Holly, and Will opened the door.

It was different, but still obviously Mike's room. Blue walls, a shelf by the door, open closet, the "One Way" sign, posters in the far corner, the lamp, the bed with a few blankets, the bulletin board. Will stepped in, closing the door behind him, and looked around. It had changed, a lot, he also noticed a guitar propped up in one corner, and it was still the sort of organized mess Mike's room had always been. He carefully walked through the room, noticing a picture on the bulletin board.

He thought it'd be El, or some random picture, but it was him, Will. He let out a soft gasp, it was one of the pictures from 1984, Halloween, Will in his Spengler costume.

Will stepped back, going around the bed, and he felt his foot touch something, like cardboard. He kneeled down, finding a half-open shoebox, and he picked it up. He shook it slightly, like a kid would a Christmas present, and heard small rustles. Will opened the box, and he couldn't believe what he saw.

The box was full of letters, letters addressed to Will.