Byler one shots

23

Some days are worse than others.

Some days are yellow, bright and sparkling, tinged with green and orange and his friends' smiling faces. They are good days. They are becoming more common as the months turn into years. Will likes these days best, because they remind him of Before. They are sunshine and summer bike rides and successful campaigns. They are his mother's cooking and the mixtapes that Jonathan mails home for him. They are hugs from Lucas and gaming sessions with Max that last for hours. They are the days when Dustin lets him copy his homework, because he could not move himself out of bed the night before to finish it. They are the days when he and El practice card games together, full of hushed giggles and muffled shouts, so they can team up and beat everyone else at the next sleepover. They are the days that he ends up next to Mike on the couch during a movie night, and he gets to spend a whole two hours pressed against his side. They are good days.

Some days are blue, cool and muted and dim. They are not good days, but they are not bad days. They simply are. They are easy to hide from, because it is not so hard to pull himself from his bed on blue days. He knows that blue days end. He knows if he gets himself to school, he can get Dustin to tell him a joke or he'll see Mike smile at him and things will be better, just a little bit. He still might cry himself to sleep that night, but it will be better. Just a little bit.

Some days are gray. They are nothing.

Some days are red, burning and furious. They are the rarest, and sometimes Will thinks they are the worst. It will hit him all of a sudden, how unfair everything was, and is, and always will be. He would never wish anything ill upon his friends, but why was it him? Why wasn't it them? Why is he the one that had to suffer, that always will suffer, that will always bear the horrible scars on his body and on his mind? Why couldn't his mother afford a house closer to Mike's? Why couldn't Jonathan have been home that night? Why doesn't anyone understand? Why doesn't anyone UNDERSTAND?

Red days are often followed by several gray days. They are exhausting. Will does not like them at all.

Some days are black. They are darkness surrounding his every action, creeping from the shadows and smothering him. They are the void of the Upside Down, the terrifying familiarity of nothingness. They are Demogorgons and Mind Flayers and monsters that he used to pretend to fight, but he knows better than to try anymore. They are the blank space of now-memories, the chilling gap between what is real and what is not and what might be. They are the harsh reminder that he is not free, that it's still watching him, that it always will, and oh God, it's happening again, it's coming, Mike, help, it's coming, we have to stop it, please don't let it get me-

Red days are bad days, but black days are the worst days.

When he wakes up on Saturday, he knows he is not going to Mike's that night.

He overslept. He meant to wake up to see Jonathan and his mother off. They said their goodbyes the night before, knowing they would have to be up early to make it to the airport in time for their flight, but Will had planned on getting up to give them both one last hug. Jonathan was moving back to New York for his junior year, and his mother was flying with him to help him move in.

Last year, all three of them had gone. But airline tickets were pricey, and Will was not particularly eager to get back on an airplane anytime soon. It had taken a lot of convincing, but he had managed to persuade his mother to let him stay at home while she was gone for a short weekend.