The other Mayfield (Will Byers X Reader)

007. Dig-dug

~Y/n POV~

I was inside the Byers' house, helping Joyce hang up pictures and diagrams—some sort of tunnel... or maybe a map. I wasn't entirely sure, but whatever it was, it clearly mattered to what was happening in Hawkins. All I cared about was helping Will and making sure he was okay.

The boys were off having another one of their "serious party members only" discussions, leaving me alone with Joyce. I figured if I couldn't get through to Mike, I might as well try talking with someone who actually cared.

"So, Y/N... when did they tell you about all this?" Joyce asked, nodding toward the walls covered in sketches and notes.

"Halloween night," I replied.

"That long, huh... I guess that explains it," she said, giving a thoughtful glance toward Will's room. I tilted my head, curious.

"What do you mean, Mrs. Byers?" I asked.

She hesitated, then smiled faintly, a little awkwardly. "Well... Will's not great at talking about feelings, not like other kids. But sometimes, when he's at home, he mentions... you. Not in a big way, just... little things. He notices stuff—how you handle yourself, how you think through things. He trusts you."

I blinked, a warmth spreading through my chest.

"Yes, he notices," Joyce continued, her tone softening. "That's why... well, why it makes sense that they'd let you in on some of this. He's not the kind to talk a lot, but he's careful about who he trusts. And you're one of them."

I felt a quiet sense of pride and relief.

"You know," she added, giving me a small, practical smile, "if you wanted to stay over tonight, it wouldn't be a problem. And I don't think Will would mind either."

I nodded, smiling faintly. "I... I'd like that, Mrs. Byers."

"Just call me Joyce."

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Mike and I had fallen asleep on the floor, sprawled out in our sleeping bags, but my eyes stayed open, staring at the ceiling. Everything felt surreal — a girl with powers, a place called the Upside Down, a monster no one should ever see. And now Will. Sweet, quiet Will, caught in the middle of all of it. Was this really happening? Or was it some long nightmare I'd wake up from back in California?

A sharp sound — a gasp — cut through my thoughts. I turned my head toward Will's bed. He was sitting up, eyes wide, breathing fast like he'd just woken from a nightmare.

"Will?" I whispered, sitting up. "What's wrong?"

He flinched at my voice, then blinked a few times. "I... I'm scared," he said quietly, almost like he didn't want to admit it. His voice cracked on the last word.

I climbed off my sleeping bag and perched carefully on the edge of his bed, keeping a little space between us. "It's okay," I said softly. "You're safe. We're here."

He glanced at me, eyes wet but not spilling over. "It doesn't feel like it," he murmured.

"I know," I said, keeping my voice low. "But you're not alone. Not now, not ever."

For a moment he stared at his hands, fidgeting with the blanket. "I just want it to stop," he whispered.

I nodded. "Me too." My throat tightened. "But we'll figure it out. All of us. Together."

He let out a shaky breath, then lay back down slowly. "Can you... just stay? Like, here? For a minute?"

I shifted down so I was sitting on the floor again, leaning my arms on his bed. "I'm not going anywhere," I said. "Mike's here too. And your mom's just in the next room. You're not alone, Will."

He turned his face into the pillow, silent now. I stayed there, resting my head on my arms, watching his breathing slow until it was even again. He'd fallen asleep.

I looked up at the ceiling, the house creaking softly around us. All I could think was, Is this all real?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Will woke with a sharp gasp, his eyes flying open. He stayed on his bed, sitting upright, chest rising and falling quickly, still caught in the shadow of whatever had haunted his dreams. I stirred immediately on the floor beside his bed, instinctively moving closer but careful not to crowd him.

Mike jolted awake too, alert instantly. "Will! What's wrong?" His voice was tense, sharp, a mixture of fear and frustration, the way he always sounded when something was wrong but he didn't fully understand it.

Will's gaze darted between us, his hands gripping the sheets.

Will's shoulders slumped slightly, and his voice was barely audible. "Hopper..."