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RAGING HANGOVER WAS correct.

Will was practically blinded by his throbbing head, starting to pulse the moment his eyes opened.

The room was lit by bright sun coming from the window, and Will didn't know what time it was- the only thing he could really take in at that moment was his head. FUCK!

What had happened last night? He barely remembered snippets... Bar, Richie taking him home.... Eddie...

SHIT. Eddie!

Any trace of sleepiness vanished in less than a second as he panicked. He sat up so fast he almost bumped into Mike, sitting on the bed next to him and reading a book.
"Good morning , sleepy!" Mike said, smiling brightly at him. He sat down the book, and Will noticed that one of his arms was hanging lightly over Will's own, holding it ever so slightly, "I thought you may be dead."

"What time is it?" Will asked, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat, but the gesture only caused him pain.
"It's 12:40." Mike responded. He reached over to kiss Will on the forehead, his lips tingling his skin.

 Will smiled faintly, the smile not reaching his eyes. He just wanted a glass of water and two aspirins- he knew asking Mike for the latter would arise suspicion... But he really needed water if he was going to talk- and besides, he needed Mike out of the room so he could think.

"Hey, could you please get me some water?" He asked, yawning loudly. Mike nodded, getting up without hesitation.
"Of course."

As Mike left the room, Will buried his head in his hands and groaned. He had really drunk. After 15 months of complete sobriety, he had gotten drunk again. He had broken every promise he had made to his mom, Mike, everyone. 

And on top of everything, he still had to tell Mike. He had to tell Mike about his episodes.

He had to, because now that he was sober again, he felt frozen once again. The tenseness he had drunk so much to destroy was slowly returning to him, even after being awake for like, 4 seconds. It may even be worse this morning.

Maybe he could even tell him about the previous night. He could tell him about how he had reached pique stress, about how the party and the episodes and everything was just too much to handle, but it wouldn't happen again. Hey, wasn't relapse a part of rehab? Yes, that's what he would tell him.... Even if he didn't really believe it....

He loved Mike too much to keep secrets from him. And he really, really, needed to tell someone.

Just as he thought that, Mike returned to the room carrying a glass of water. Will gulped it down in two sips, sighing contently. His headache eased slightly.

"So now that you're finally awake... What should we do today?" Mike asked. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, mindlessly drawing circles on Will's arm. 
"Umm... Actually, can we-"

"We need to celebrate your big achievement! Will, I think you're literally the first year one ever to be chosen for Mr.Mack's party! That's crazy!"

UGH. He couldn't escape that fucking party.

"No, I REALLY need to-"

"Just enjoy your moment, babe. Tell you what- we'll go to the losers' apartment, tell them the good news, then we can go have dinner somewhere nice." Before he could respond, Mike kissed him, on the lips this time.

"Hey, I'm really proud of you for overcoming everything. You so deserve this. I'm going to take a quick shower, you change, and we can go".

He stayed looking at Will with that doing gaze Will could never understand for another second, then left the room, humming to himself.
Will sunk back on the bed, a single, silent tear dripping down his cheek. 

He realized  he couldn't ever tell Mike. Mike had moved on, Mike couldn't be brought back into this.

 Mike had this picture of him in his head- of someone strong, someone who overcame both addiction and supernatural occurrences. He thought of Will as someone who grew from these things, he thought that everything was normal now.

Mike was finally happy.

So he couldn't tell Mike. He had to find a way to get over this, to solve this, all on his own. He had to, for Mike. So Mike could stay happy.

The big problem was, that he was dumb. That he was a stupid coward who, instead of solving his problem, had added another ( bigger) one yesterday. 

Because now, even with his headache and the frozen stomach and everything else, he had a "solution": because now he knew that one drink would make him feel better, even if it was for a few hours. 

✴ ⁕ ✴ ⁕ ✴

The worst part was how excited they all were about Will being chosen for the party.

Beverly legit jumped up and down with joy, vividly describing to everyone how hard Will had worked on the drawing.... Not knowing she was describing one of his worst moments ever. Bill patted Will on the back so hard he started coughing, and Richie (although mostly kept quiet) got on his knees and begged Will not to forget him when he's a famous artist.

Through all this, Mike stayed with his arm firmly around Will, gleaming with pride. He didn't know how much Will hated this. He didn't know that even the mere thought that this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity was only given to him because of his fucking episode made him want to burst into tears.

Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore. His head was still bursting with pain, and it was simply too much.
"I'm gonna make some tea, anyone wants some?" He gently removed Mike's arm from around his shoulder and got up from the couch.

"S-sure, yeah." Bill said, and the rest agreed tea sounded good. Will started walking to the kitchen, but then-

"I'll help you."

Eddie rose from the couch, and followed Will into the kitchen.

Will tried to ignore him, starting the tea preparation without looking back at the eyes he felt burning on his back. His mind was racing with possible explanations, way to convince him-

"What the fuck Will?" Eddie said, and finally he couldn't ignore him anymore.
"It was a one time thing, I didn't-" Will tried, his cheeks turning a dark crimson. He turned around to face the boy.

"No, fuck that! You've been sober for over a year, why go back now?" 

And at this, Will burst into tears. 

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