A/N: Welcome! Promises is a series of one-shots and occasional two-shots about Eleven and Mike as they grow up post-series, so the chapters vary from months after the series to years to (possibly) decades. Enjoy!

Things never really returned to normal after the "Incident". The four best friends – Mike, Lucas, Dustin, and Will – still gathered from weekend to weekend to play D&D, and as always, Mike was the dungeon master; that much remained the same. However, they could all sense a shift, a turning point. Dustin was the one that called Mike out on it – Mike's once-intricately crafted stories were showing loose ends, and his effort and subsequently his grades in school had been dropping for the past month.

After Will fireballed the thessalhydra and everyone had left to return to their families for Christmas, Mike was left alone in his basement, contemplating, and ended up staring at the pile of blankets and pillows that still sat as a fort in the basement of the Wheeler's house. Lucas, Dustin, and Will all wished well for him, and tried their best to cheer him up from time to time, but all to no avail. For him, it seemed like he had lost something in the past month. Something precious.

Eleven was gone.

And for Mike, it felt like a piece of him had gone with her to the Upside Down.

Mike eventually forced himself to tear his eyes away from the alcove where El had once slept (where she had once made a home), and stood up, trying his hardest to forget the painful memories that followed every joyful time he had spent with her (memories that he could not simply forget).

Mike needed air. Fresh air. To clear the head. With a twist of the knob, the basement door opened and cold air billowed in on the winter wind. Donning a heavy coat, Mike closed the basement door behind him and strode out upon the white snow. He breathed in the cold, frigid air, chilling entire his body with every breath. It was a refreshing experience, at least. Paying little attention to where his legs are taking him, Mike juggled his thoughts – friends, Eleven, school, Eleven, family… Eleven. A constant pressure on his mind, El was.

With a sigh, Mike came to a stop, only to realize that the neat rows of houses and cars had already long given way to trees, and that he had strayed far off the beaten path. He had walked all the way to Mirkwood, to the spot where Will had crashed his bike when confronted by the Demogorgon. Glancing at his watch, Mike grimaced when he realized that he had been walking for nearly an hour; all he could hope for was that his mom hadn't noticed, or he would be dead meat after she made sure he was safe.

With a turn, Mike prepared to return home – until a flash of movement popped at the edge of his right eye. Turning his head at speeds that looked painful, he saw the one thing he didn't expect to see in the relative middle of nowhere on a cold winter night – a figure in the woods. The figure in question stood further in then where Will had crashed his bike, a good thirty feet at least. His heart froze, not from the cold, but from the sudden fear that began to grip his body. Had the Demogorgon returned? He didn't know whether to run or scream (or do both) and his mind and body alike were frozen with fear and indecision. That is, until Mike noticed that this figure could not be the Demogorgon – for starters, it was too short, too small. The arms were not nearly long enough. It was definitely a human.

Mike let out a sigh of relief, shaking his head in mild embarrassment for having been shocked frozen, and headed towards the small figure in the distance.

"Hello?" Mike cried, trying to see exactly who it could be. From the size, the figure could've been anyone his age, including Dustin, Lucas, or Will, though the chances of the figure being any of those three were quite low.

As Mike got closer, he started to see more details; that the figure had on a dress, from the outline – so a girl – and – his heart froze again, for completely different reasons – a blue jacket with squares and stripes.

Not wanting to wait, not wanting to be disappointed, yet not wanting not to hope, Mike rushed forward, breaking through the frozen branches packed with snow – some of which fell on him. He ignored it all, however, reaching forwards. Stumbling out into a clearing, he faced the figure.

Mike didn't believe his eyes.

His voice was quieter, scratchier than he remembered.

"El?"

In front of him, in the flesh, complete with his sister's old, once-pink dress and a slightly oversized jacket was Eleven.

"Mike," she whispered, a small smile dancing on her face. Mike's momentary confusion gave way to his emotions. He rushed forward and enveloped her in a hug, holding on tight as if letting go would allow her to fall back into the Vale of Shadows. The two stayed like that, kneeling on the ground, in a tight embrace, taking each other's warmth, for at least a minute (but probably more).

"How?" He breathed, overwhelmed by a multitude of different emotions. She hugged tighter.

"I promised. Friends don't lie. I came back for you."

"Promise? The Snow Ball?" Mike chuckled a little, loosening away from the hug to face her eye-to-eye. "It might be a little too late for that, but I think you made up for it already." A smile graced his face as he stared into hers. She was a little gaunter, a little less clean, and her hair had grown out longer, but she was still El.

They stayed like that for a while, and Mike didn't mind any of the reprimands he was almost certain to receive from the panic he was likely causing his mom. Sure, it wasn't the Snow Ball, but he had a feeling that it was better.