The other Mayfield (Will Byers X Reader)

002. Day 3

~Y/n POV~

We had been stuck in this place for three days now.

Three days since we ran into the cave. Three days since everything stopped making sense.

For some reason, Henry hadn't come back.

That part unsettled me the most. After chasing us through memories, through hallways and forests and places that shouldn't have existed, it was like he'd simply... vanished. Like once we crossed into the cave, we stopped being worth the effort. Or worse, like he was letting us think we were safe.

The cave had become our shelter. Our hiding place.

Our home... at least as much as a place like this could ever be one.

We'd dragged ourselves into a routine because doing nothing felt dangerous. Because sitting still gave our thoughts too much space to spiral. We gathered sticks and broken bits of wood from just outside the cave's mouth, never straying far, never turning our backs to the darkness for too long. Every sound made us tense. Every shadow felt like it could move if we looked away.

I never stopped checking over my shoulder.

Just beyond the cave, by the many trees in the forest, we found berry bushes. They were scraggly and uneven, like they'd fought to exist and barely won. The berries themselves were small, dull in color, some shriveled, some half-formed, but we didn't hesitate.

Food was food.

We picked them carefully, counting without saying we were counting. Splitting them evenly. Pretending it was enough.

They stained our fingers faintly, a deep purple that lingered no matter how much we wiped our hands on our jeans. The taste was sharp, almost bitter, but it filled the hollow ache in my stomach just enough to quiet it.

We even decided to search beyond the cave. Through the big gap in the cave.

Beyond that, the land opened into sand, endless, pale, stretching so far it warped the horizon. No trees. No buildings. No signs of life. Just dunes and cracked earth and a heat that shimmered faintly, making everything feel unreal.

We walked anyway.

Each step felt heavier than the last, the sand shifting beneath our feet like it didn't want us there.

We searched until our legs burned and our throats went dry. Until the cave behind us was nothing more than a dark smudge against the rock, barely visible anymore.

And still, there was nothing.

No food, shelter, water. No other openings to memories that we could hop through.

Eventually, Max stopped walking. And I stopped with her.

Neither of us said it out loud, but the thought sat heavy between us.

There was nothing out there, So we turned back.

The cave welcomed us again with its familiar coolness and shadow.

Inside, the cave pressed close.

And even though Henry hadn't shown himself in days, I couldn't shake the feeling that this place hadn't forgotten about us at all.

Max, somehow, figured out how to start a fire.

That part still surprised me. We'd never gone camping. Never learned survival stuff. And yet she'd crouched there with shaking hands and stubborn focus until sparks finally caught. When the flames took hold, the relief on her face had almost made me cry.

Now the fire was small but steady, its light flickering against the cave walls, throwing warped shadows that stretched and shrank with every movement. It was the only thing that made this place feel less empty. Less endless.