𝚆𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙸𝚂 𝙼𝚈 𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙳? ⇢ ʙʏʟᴇʀ

upside down

[before this chapter begins, i want to say thank you.

 this particular chapter was incredibly difficult to write, from the perspective of a young adult who has gone through the same trials will has in this chapter. it isn't easy growing up and trying to figure out who you are, but i think having a supportive mom like joyce probably makes that easier. 

thank you for reading, and i hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as it meant to me to write it. i would like to let everyone know that i am going to be transferring this fic to archive of our own, as i received my invite as of late and find it to be a better platform. 

i will still continue to update this fic here until it is finished. but would really appreciate, if you use ao3 or read fics there, to check it out over there. i will be posting my fics after this there from now on. thank you, and enjoy.]

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It was nearly full dark before Will heard the gentle blips of a police cruiser coasting down the road behind him.

He was amazed, and horrified just as much, at the way the tiny little stretch of land had practically drawn him in like a magnet. He hadn't even intended to go out looking for such a spot, and he certainly hadn't wanted to visit at any point during his return home. Yet, it was almost like his body carried him on this way even if he wasn't sure it was the right way home. It was, indeed, the right way. He'd come this way on the night of November 6th, the night that fell into his brain like a painted over puzzle piece, still fitting but never quite looking right. He understood that this was the place.

Yes, of course it was, he thought to himself. This was the route he had attempted to take the night that he had fallen and knocked himself into that short, bitter unconsciousness that lasted several days. Beneath his feet were the rocks that wiped him clean. This is it, isn't it? This was where Will Byers died, Will thought to himself as he had approached the twisted metal form that was (had been) his bicycle, and as his fingertips grazed the smashed in remnants of the light that had been installed between his handlebars, he began to cry.

He had sat like that for a while, sitting with his backpack underneath his feet and his tailbone resting poorly on the incline of the gravel ditch behind him. He had the jagged shards of plastic that had been shattered out of the bike's light fixture cupped inside his palms, tears dotting his cheeks for god knows how long until he realized that he could barely see the pieces he had clutched so tightly in his hands. It had grown dark quickly, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He just sat there until his cheeks grew dry and he couldn't cry any longer. His posture grew slightly more limp as the moments went by, and he could feel exhaustion working it's way into his bones. A lot of crying in one day for just a young man, he had thought to himself. A lot of crying for someone who had done a lot of crying as it was.

He sat there until it was too dark to try and maneuver his way blindly through the path in front of him, and he sat there until it was dark enough that, when he craned his neck back a bit, he could look upwards into the pitch black sky and see stars speckled across it. It hurt his neck, straining like this, but he could have sat there the entire night just watching the stars like that. The stars had nothing to do but be beautiful, nothing to do but guide on occasion. He wished he had nothing to do but be beautiful, sometimes. Life wasn't that easy, though. He knew that. He wished he had nothing else required of him than that, though. To look nice. He wished he didn't have to see his friends after this, briefly, and that thought made his stomach ache with guilt. He tipped his head back again, however, and observed the stars, and for a brief moment, he didn't feel so awful about the fact that his family, that his friends, Blue, Jonathan; out of all of them, nobody really knew where he was.