Anarchy (WILLBERT)

1: A Random Act of Kindness

Will Byers had gone missing on November 6th of 1983. It was the talk of the goddamn town within a few days and it made Bert want to vomit a little in his mouth. He hadn't spoken to Will since before the Byers boy started middle school and Bert supposedly dropped off the face of Hawkins, Indiana.

Of course, that was out of his control. He could not change the events that forced him to drop out of his school career and his social life at such a young age. Someone needed to make sure his mother was fed if the grief had left her incapacitated. However, he could potentially make it up to Joyce Byers.

Joyce Byers was a woman he remembered to be a cheeky, supportive woman, who could barely manage to cook on a good day. So, of course, Bert decided to be a gentlemen and deliver her a cottage pie. He felt bad enough being  that far removed from the fact the boy who used to be his best friend was missing.

Perhaps it was odd that an 11-year-old boy was acting like a sympathetic housewife, but he assumed Joyce needed the help. Plus he had felt bad for not visiting them after the news was out, and the cottage pie was already cooked and layered in cyran wrap.

So he trudged, in his ratty clothes and too tight shoes, to the Byers residence with a glass dish in his hands and the Sony Walkman he had been gifted by his father a few years ago in his back pocket. I Wanna Be Sedated by The Ramones blasted down his ear canal.

The Byers residence has the visual likeness of a suburban family's back yard shed. It was forged of a simple wood, but it did the trick. It was surrounded by a gorgeous woods, the best back yard a kid could ask for. He knew Castle Byers was in a clearing less than a mile away. Bert stepped onto the porch and knocked gently on the door.

Joyce Byers, predictably, was the person to answer his call. She almost looked ill. Her hair was dishevelled and her hands were tangled in some Christmas lights despite it still being the early stages of November.

"Hey... Mrs Byers...?" Bert stumbled over his words, blinking away his confusion. He slipped his headphones off his head, pressing pause on the scratched-up metal device. He took cautious steps forwards.

"Bert? Bert! Oh my god- Actually this might be convenient-" Joyce started pacing and beckoning him into the house.

The inside of the Byers family house was in a bit of a state. You could barely see the ceiling for a layer of the same Christmas lights Joyce had been holding when she opened the door. The ashtray looked as though it hadn't been emptied in days land there were dirty dishes building up in the sink. Bert made a mental note to sort some of that out while he was here.

"Mrs Byers, I brought cottage pie-"

Joyce frantically gestured to the countertop for him to put his dish down. "Sorry to pull you in, Bert, but it's Will."

"Will," Bert sighed, wringing his hands, "Yeah, I heard-"

"No," Joyce interrupted, "He's here. The lights." Bert couldn't bring himself to respond as he carefully watched Joyce examining the fairy lights wrapped around her fingers. She had him follow her into a small, low-down closet, breathing heavily. "Will, sweetie, can you show Bert what you showed me? Please? You remember Bert don't you?"

There was an excruciating pause and, just as Bert was attempting to excuse himself, the lights slowly blinked. Joyce gave excited, relieved cries and Bert could barely believe his eyes.

"Once is yes, twice is no," Joyce breathed shakily. Bert managed to nod in response.

"Ok, ok," Bert whispered, clearing his throat. "Will... that's definitely you?" He asked nervously.

There was a steady blink of the little, white lights and he let out a breath he didn't realise had been caught. Some of Joyce's wrinkles smoothed out and she looked about ready to cry, Bert wasn't far off himself.

"I need to know, are you alive?" Joyce asked. The lights blinked singularly again and some relief coursed through the two. "Are you safe?" She asked hopefully. Unfortunately, the lights blinked twice. Joyce let out a pained breath, Bert looking up at her distressed face.

The colour has drained from her face, she tried asking for his location but got no response. Her words because frantic. Bert thought about all the time he had wasted being cut off from Will, desperately wanting to apologise. He would never have the chance to see Will at another science fair, or school dance, or spelling bee...

Before Joyce could stop begging Will to reveal his location, Bert sucked in a breath, "Spell it out. He needs to spell it out — Mrs Byers, I have an idea."