A/N: So I've had this idea brewing in the back of my head since this song was relevant (so a long time) and since I'm nearly done writing it and in honor of "Stranger Thursdays" on Twitter I decided to finally post this.

Full disclosure, I've never written for the Stranger Things fandom or a songfic before but "This Town" by Niall Horan is one of the most Mileven songs I've heard so i just decided to pick apart the whole thing. There will be 3-4 pretty long chapters depending on how I want to incorporate the last few scenes, but don't worry, it'll be the same length in terms of words/content either way.

Sorry for rambling! Enjoy!

Waking up to kiss you and nobody's there

December 14, 1996

It was just past midnight, but Mike Wheeler couldn't sleep. He hadn't been able to sleep for the past few weeks, if he was being honest.

Although most people thought that it was immature for a twenty-five-year-old man to still play Dungeons and Dragons, much less read the manual, Mike didn't really think anyone was going to call him out on his lapse into childishness at this time of night. The darkness of the basement was broken only by the small beam of a flashlight as he skimmed through the old binder. The sight of monsters to fight and different lands to travel sparked the storytelling light in his brain, and his fingers itched for a pencil to start planning a new campaign.

He smirked at his own train of thought, running a hand through his dark hair as he set the binder on the old D&D table. Sighing, he clicked the flashlight off, bathing the room in complete darkness while his eyes were struggled to adjust.

To avoid all the conflicting emotions that threatened to surface in the silence of the basement, he focused on the sounds of the house. The old floorboards creaked with the wind, and the wheezy radiator worked overtime to counteract the cold that seeped through the walls. Mike knew that no one would be up so late at night, but he wished that there was someone he could talk to.

However, once the thought of talking to someone entered his mind, there was only one person he wanted to see. But she was so far away—literally and figuratively. Even when they were dating, El had always seemed so out of reach in his mind for years.

Mike released a massive sigh, closing his dark eyes for a moment, before sitting up and looking over at the corner of the basement where blankets and quilts used to hide a telekinetic girl. His heart beat even more rapidly than it already was and his breath started coming in short bursts. Get a grip, he thought, tearing his gaze from the corner and back to the dim outline of the D&D binder. El had never really participated in their campaigns, choosing instead to watch happily from the side, but he did make a point to work the proud princess—or some variation of her—into their adventures after that fateful week.

A smile ghosted across his features, remembering the way she would read aloud old campaigns he had written to improve her vocabulary. She would usually ask him to read sections to her since his handwriting was notoriously indecipherable, which would always lead to him expanding the campaign to include her, while her head rested on his shoulder.

I hope El's okay, the familiar sentiment filled his thoughts, along with the instinct to protect a girl who could overpower him without lifting a finger. His mind was now stuck on El for the foreseeable future, and the cocktail of emotions that had more in common with his twelve-year-old self flooded his system. "This is going to be a long day", he groaned to himself, dropping his head back into his arms.

The smell of your perfume still stuck in the air

November 21, 1983

After the…incident…at the middle school, a whole fleet of fire trucks, ambulances, and police cars had descended on the three boys, separating them, and Mike found himself sitting in the back of an ambulance, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Tears burned in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall in front of a bunch of paramedics and firefighters. But when his mom appeared, running frantically through the maze of vehicles he just stood up, letting himself sob tearlessly into her shoulder.

The next few hours passed in a blur, especially after hearing the news that the Chief and Mrs. Byers had rescued Will from the Upside-Down. Mike's dad wanted to take everyone home, and let the "government officials" decide when the boys could see their friend, but one angry look from his mom settled the matter.

The drive to the hospital was uncharacteristically silent, Mike could tell Dustin and Lucas were exhausted from their week-long ordeal and he, frankly, just didn't feel like talking to anyone for a while. However, his lips lifted slightly when they pulled up to the hospital and saw Nancy and Steve.

"Mike!" His sister shouted, dashing forward to wrap him in a tight hug. "Oh my gosh what happened?"

"You're just like Mom, you know that right?" He asked, half-jokingly half-seriously, since those were also the first words his mother had said to him.

"Yeah, I do," Nancy whispered, choosing to ignore his deflection of her question.

"I'm gonna' go find us some seats," Steve said, giving Nancy a quick peck on the cheek before heading through the doors. As if they were on a date to the movies, not at a hospital to wait for a boy who had just returned from another dimension to wake from a coma.

"Don't give me that look. He's actually a pretty great guy," she defended her boyfriend, finally letting her brother go.

Mike followed his family and friends inside, and into a cramped waiting room with just enough seats for everyone. He settled next to Lucas and across from his dad, unable to stop his leg from bouncing now as they started the long wait for Will to wake up.

Hours passed and the waiting room fell silent, everyone mediating on the events of the past couple hours. Although Mike didn't know what his sister, Steve, and Jonathan had went through, he knew that it wouldn't be leaving them anytime soon, as evidenced by the bruises that covered Steve's face or the blood and sweat stains that covered all three.

Even once Will woke up and the friends were reunited, the time flew by in a blur, and before he knew it, Mike was being shooed up the stairs to his room by his mom and Nancy.

He sighed, flopping down on his bed, all of the energy seemed to flow out of him, and the first tears started to leak out of the corners of his eyes. He was glad, of course, that Will was back from the Upside-Down, but it was difficult to accept that it felt like they had traded El for Will. When the tears started to run over his forehead, Mike sat up and glanced over at the clock on his nightstand. "12:27," he croaked to himself, his throat tight with sadness. He could now say that it was yesterday that he jumped off the quarry's edge, and that it was yesterday that El had found Barb and Will in the homemade sensory deprivation tank, and that it was yesterday that the Demogorgon was killed.

The sadness washed over him again, as the finality of El's…disappearance—he refused to believe she was dead—set in. Mike crept out of his bedroom, desperate to channel his energy into something productive, and tiptoed down the stairs, pausing outside the kitchen.

"How could we not know?" His mom asked, and he could picture her clasped hands resting underneath her chin.

"Not know what?" Came the faint reply, from his ever-clueless dad.

"About this, this mission our son and his friends were on. Not to mention the fact that the girl was living in our basement!" Mike was taken aback for a moment at the fact that his mom knew about El, but once he thought about it for a second, he realized that Mrs. Byers must have filled her in on the girl's part in Will's miraculous return from the dead.

He crept past the kitchen and carefully slipped through the basement door, closing it softly behind him. The basement had always been his sanctuary, the place where he hung out with his friends and had sleepovers, and for the past week, the place where it had become a sanctuary for someone else.

The pillow fort lay in shambles after he had knocked it down this mor—yesterday morning. Taking a shaky breath in an attempt to keep from sobbing, Mike picked up one sheet, and started to rebuild El's sanctuary. It shouldn't have taken him very long, he still remembered how he had put it up the first time, but the moment he went to set up the pillows, he stopped dead in his tracks.

It took him nearly twenty minutes to pick up the SuperCom. And when he crawled forward into the fort to pull it out, he smelled the faint scent of laundry detergent, dirt, and some strawberry spray of Nancy's, a mixture that reminded him so much of El that he almost ran back up the stairs to lock himself in his room. His vision started to become blurry, as he remembered her face when he explained "friend." How she looked up at him from her fort, her face remaining a little closed-off and confused, but how her big hazel eyes showed that she had never had anyone close to a friend. Until he, Lucas, and Dustin took her in.

Mike turned around, unable to look at the fort for another second, and quickly threw the SuperCom behind him, not really caring where it landed. He looked around the basement, and it felt wrong, somehow. Like El was meant to be nodding off to sleep behind him, or the playful arguments of his friends were supposed to be ringing through the air, not the soft sobs of a twelve-year-old boy.

It's hard

Yesterday I thought I saw your shadow running 'round

December 18, 1983

The weeks after Will's return saw a shift in the Wheeler house.

Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler carried along like almost nothing had changed, but they did seem to treat their children with a bit more caution. Conversations became overly polite, and they were always seemed to be choosing their words incredibly carefully, especially around Mike.

Holly giggled, running around the house and showing off her first baby tooth to fall out to anyone who had eyes. She didn't always understand why she would find her sister staring blankly at her wall of pictures, or why her brother was scared when she played with a light switch. Her own encounter with the Monster in the Wall was forgotten within a few days, her young mind finding a way to erase the horrifying memories of that week.

Nancy felt cheated by the Upside-Down, and her anger burned through her system for hours, before she saw a picture of Barb and she simply felt empty. Why would the Demogorgon kill her best friend, yet save her brother's? There was no way, she would ever tell him of her jealousy, knowing how much he had sacrificed to save his own best friend. Even Steve noticed the way any mention of Barb could set her off, so he avoided her name at all costs, choosing instead to become better friends with Jonathan and finding new friends after he dropped Tommy H. and Carol. Their relationship had become so much stronger after he returned to fight with her and Jonathan, and she even officially introduced him to her parents, an unthinkable act before that week.

Mike turned into himself for a time, only really coming alive when he was writing a campaign or playing it out with Will, Dustin, and Lucas. But most of the time, he sulked around the house, barely smiling, laughing, or even talking. His depression even started to lift as the Snow Ball approached, muttering "promised, she promised," under his breath every night. Yet the dance came and went, his mood fouled even more, but not in the way one would expect. Instead of a flaring temper, he seemed to suppress most emotions, responding in short phrases or a sentence when asked something. He stopped standing up to Troy and James, but never actively tried to avoid the bullies.

His friends tried to bring him out of this funk by convincing Mr. Clarke to replace the Heathkit, not realizing that it only served as a reminder of the girl who destroyed it. It was only when his parents wanted to take him to a shrink, that Mike forced himself out of his depression. Settling into a routine of school, A.V. Club, homework, and D&D, he appeared to have returned to his former self, but there were times, late at night when no one was awake, Mike let the piece of him that still missed El to take over, engulfing him in an Upside-Down-like darkness, before shrinking back and being tucked away deep inside his mind.

It's funny how things never change in this old town

January 16, 1984

Eleven was cold. So cold that even if she did escape this awful place, she did not think that she would ever feel warm again. She curled into a tight ball every night, wishing that she was in the Wheeler's real basement, the blankets providing some form of warmth, instead of a constant weight that let her know that she was hadn't died yet.

She had killed the Demogorgon. She had to have. El didn't want to think that she had ripped herself away from her friends, but left the monster alive enough to hurt them again. Although killing it hadn't been easy, and had drained almost all of her energy, she was slowly recovering and her "powers" were coming back bit by bit every day.

Every day, she would venture out into the grayness of her world, walk down deserted streets and into the woods full of dead trees to find a small box that usually contained a little bit of food wrapped in plastic. Today, however, the box was empty. Her heart rose into her throat, her bony hands tearing at the bottom of the box and tears leaked down her hollow cheeks.

In the back of her mind, she knew that she was likely too early, but the irrational fears were heightened in the Upside-Down, and she couldn't help the wave of helplessness that crashed over her. Feeling incredibly defeated, she turned and started walking back to Mike's house, the ashy flakes dusting her shoulders and hair. Having the box of food there every day didn't just ensure she didn't starve in the time she's been in the Upside-Down, it was also like having a friend. Mike had taught her what that word meant that first night in his basement, but he had shown her what it felt like over and over and over again. But none of her friends were with her now; she was alone in the Upside-Down.

Not even her surroundings changed much, remaining a pale imitation of Hawkins, and although she had only caught glimpses of the town, she knew that it wasn't supposed to be crumbling around her. Vines crawled up the sides of all the buildings and slugs inched their way across the cracked asphalt of the road. The only way she could tell the passage of time in such a gray world was how long her hair was, and from the short curls that started to frame her skull, she guessed that it had been around two months since she had first woken up in the terrible world. The emptiness of the Upside-Down crept inside El, and seemed to rest inside her chest and wormed its way into her mind.

"Monster," she murmured, rubbing her hands over her eyes and wishing that the tears would come, as if they could prove that she was capable of sadness again. Even as she entered the basement through the side door, El continued to mutter the word to herself as she lay herself down in the decaying pillow fort.

Her powers were so reduced that there was no way to reach out and "talk" with Mike, but she wanted to so badly. She wanted to see his kind smile and count the little dots that spread across his cheeks and the way he would make the confusing world seem a lot less scary. The blue jacket he had given her was lost, back at the middle school, and she missed its comforting weight around her shoulders. Although the Chief's flannel had kept the chill at bay for the first few hours in the dark place, it did not prove to be as comforting as that blue jacket had.

Sighing in exhaustion, El collapsed in the slimy and darkened version of the pillow fort. It was only when she was lying down, surrounded by blankets and sheets that should be a comfort, that the gnawing feeling in her stomach grew into an intense pain. She closed her eyes, and imagined that when she opened them, Mike would be there. He would shake her awake, practically shoving a lukewarm Eggo into her hands, before flashing her a quick smile and dashing off to school.

"Mike," El whispered contentedly, letting something that could resemble the beginnings of a smile lift her lips, before she curled even tighter into herself, as if to shield herself from the nightmares sure to come.

So far

From the stars

December 14, 1996

The young woman gazed out the window of the old house for a moment, before creeping out of the room she couldn't believe she could still call her own. Taking care to avoid the spot in the hallway where the Demogorgon burnt all those years ago, Eleven made her way across the cluttered living room to the front porch.

Taking a deep breath, she rested her elbows on the railing and lifted her head to gaze at the tiny lights—stars—that dotted the darkness above her. El smiled to herself, brushing a lock of dark brown hair behind her ear, before looking down and staring at the strands of hair that curled around her shoulders. For the longest time, her hair was never allowed to grow long enough to brush, much less long enough for her to run her fingers through curls she didn't know she had.

El didn't think she would ever tire of the fresh air or even the harshly cold wind that blew through Hawkins, Indiana. A year in the Upside-Down had hardened her against the coldest temperatures the Midwest could drop to.

"No," she gritted her teeth, curling her fingers into her hair as memories of that horrifying year started flashing through her mind. The flakes of ash settling in her hair and lungs. Echoes of the Demogorgon's roar ringing in her ears, no matter how many times she told herself it was dead. "No, no, no, no!"

A section of the railing splintered and deep gashes gouged themselves into the deck, yet El's voice never rose above a whisper.

As she raised a shaky hand to brush at the drop of blood that beaded underneath her nose, she held her breath, listening to the creak of the swing, hoping that the noise didn't wake her adoptive family. Exhaling gratefully, El resumed her observation of the night sky, carefully turning her thoughts towards a time of her life that was much happier.

Finding her way out of the Upside-Down took her a year, but the first happy memory she had once she was out was the first time she saw Mike again. She remembered the way his face broke into a wide smile and the way she nearly collapsed in his arms. El smiled at the stars as she remembered that Chief Hopper and Mrs. Wheeler had to pry him away from her before she passed out from malnourishment. She remembered being afraid that he had forgotten her, because although she had never forgotten him, El didn't have a lot of experience with friends and thought he would have moved on by the time she had returned.

Today, El was especially grateful that her thirteen-year-old-self was wrong, and had found her way back into the life of Mike Wheeler.

And I want to tell you everything

March 9, 1986

El stretched out underneath the canopy of trees, relishing in the unusually warm weather, kicking off her shoes and socks, giggling childishly as the blades of grass tickled her feet.

Moments like this, the seconds or minutes where she got to enjoy the basic experiences a fifteen-year old girl was allowed to enjoy, made her feel like she was an actual normal girl. These instances almost made her forget the nightmares of the Upside-Down that plagued her every night, and the way every shadow reminded her of the shadows of the bad men or the Demogorgon. She knew better than to dwell too much on her year in the Upside-Down, but her daily nightmares made that hard to do.

But no matter how hard she tried, the sunlight filtering through the trees took a much harsher quality, and the specks of dirt that outlined the beams of light, looked like the falling ash that filled the air of the Upside-Down. The sounds of footsteps traipsing through the woods, sounded like the heavy stomping of the bad men's boots.

"El?" Mike's voice broke through the quiet of the woods, startling the telekinetic teen, whose reaction included stripping the bark from a couple of the trees in the clearing. "Sorry, did I scare you?"

She shook her head quietly, not trusting her voice, as a small bump had lodged itself in her throat, a side-effect of the panic she almost let overtake her.

"Is there something wrong?" He handed her a tissue for the blood dripping from her nose. He then sat down next to El, letting her rest her head on his knee while he ran his fingers through her hair, his fingers snagging every so often in her curls.

Images of the shadow version of Hawkins flashed through her head, and for the briefest moment, she considered telling Mike everything. About how she could barely walk past the middle school without being reminded of the violence that had taken place in its halls. How she was terrified to close her eyes, because what if she woke up and she was back in the Upside-Down? And what if, when she told Mike all of the awful things she had done in the lab and about the sheer despair that would always cling to her, as a constant reminder of spending so many months in the Upside-Down…and he walked away from her? He doesn't need to worry, El decided, turning to look up at her concerned and caring boyfriend.

"Nothing is wrong, Mike."

The words I never got to say the first time around

June 1, 1986

"What are you doing?" El asked, swiveling her head to watch her boyfriend and her friends dash around the Wheeler's basement, grabbing flip-flops, brightly colored towels, and stuffing them into backpacks.

"It's the first day of summer!" Dustin exclaimed, as if that would clear up all doubt in her mind.

"We have this sort of tradition," Mike explained, skidding to a stop in front of her. "Every June first, we go down to the lake and spend the whole afternoon hanging on the shore and then bike to this little clearing on the other side to catch fireflies."

She nodded her understanding, but quickly crossed her arms when she remembered what the word "tradition" meant. "If this is a…tradition, of yours," she began, studying the downcast faces of her friends, "why haven't I heard about it until now?"

"Oh," Will jumped in, ever the peacemaker, immediately picking up on her confrontational tone. "It hasn't been warm enough these past couple years to go down to the lake."

"Yeah," Dustin agreed, trying to figure out how to fit another candy bar into his overflowing backpack. "Besides, my parents have just now let me go other places that isn't here, school, or basically anywhere not supervised by an adult."

El nodded, leading the way out to their bikes and climbing on the back of Mike's. For her first birthday back in the real world, the boys had gotten her a bike of her own, but even at fifteen-years-old, she always rode with Mike at every opportunity.

The sun was high in the sky when they reached the lake, turning the water into a spotlight that was incredibly difficult to look at. The boys spread out their towels on the strip of sand surrounding the water, laying down to let the sunlight wash over their faces and soaking up the warmth provided.

"El," Mike called, patting the spot next to him, and with a grin on his face that—in El's mind—could have outshone the lake.

She plopped herself down, leaning her head on his shoulder, taking his hand in her own, and playing with his fingers, a content expression coming over her own face.

That afternoon, El got to enjoy the full force of the compassion of her friends as they all enjoyed the afternoon. Lucas taught her card games like poker and gin rummy, never letting her win, but he did lose most of his candy to her after she got the hang of poker. Dustin gave her a piggyback ride down the small beach, threatening to dunk her in the cold water if she didn't loosen her grip on his neck. Will showed her the best method of catching fireflies, which turned out to be bugs that looked like small flying balls of light, and how to put them in little mason jars to make lanterns. Mike gave her a kiss on the cheek for no reason, incurring moans from their friends and threats from Lucas to drag them back and dump them in the lake. And he gave her his sweatshirt to wear over her soaked dress when their friends did throw them in the water.

"You're never giving that sweatshirt back, are you?" He asked as they rode back to the Byers'.

El merely smiled into his back, relishing the warmth not only his clothes, but his presence gave her. No matter how old she was, or what kind of ideas the kids at school would draw from the fact that approximately half of her wardrobe consisted of his clothes, she would always love the way his sweatshirts and jackets and t-shirts would envelop her in his scent and warmth.

Correctly taking her silence as a "no," Mike laughed and shook his head which caused his dark hair to fall into his eyes as their little party rolled to a stop at the end of the Byers' driveway. "Well, I can't really get mad at you," he conceded. "It is really comfortable."

"Promise?" She studied his face, knowing that he would take "their word" seriously. Because ever since he had first explained what "promise" meant, she reveled in the idea that one word could connect two people in a way that couldn't be easily broken. And she knew that the promise he made her, back in that dreaded science classroom, bound her to him in ways that she didn't think she would ever have with another person again. "Promise" had turned into so much more than just an expression of obligation or responsibility, but one of undying friendship, compassion, and, possibly, l…

"Promise," Mike stated firmly, before wrapping her in a tight hug and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, whispering their word once more into her hair.

And I remember everything

December 14, 1996

The sun was rising above the Byers' house, washing the dead lawn in light, and El squinted her eyes at the harsh change in brightness. Shielding her eyes, she turned back towards to the house, rubbing her hands up and down her arms as the coldness became more obvious in the daylight.

I should probably go back inside, El thought. Who knows what Will or Mom will do if they can't find me today.

The living room had barely changed in the past decade or so, except for a fresh coat of paint covering two walls that seemed to be refreshed every few years. The old couch was still pushed up against the wall, and the few lamps in the corners would provide a bit of illumination when turned on.

"Glad that you're finally awake," a voice joked from the kitchen. Jonathan had clearly been up for some time, as he was already getting breakfast ready for the rest of the family. "One plate of Eggos for Eleven Byers," he said in a fancy voice, setting the nearly steaming plate of waffles in front of her.

"How did you…" she started, sitting down. How did her brother know that she had been up for hours, and had her favorite breakfast ready for her?

"Will hasn't been a heavy sleeper for years," Jonathan said simply, sitting down across from her. "He thought you would be needing some food in a couple hours."

El smiled gratefully, beginning to devour her Eggos at her normal breakneck pace. As the sun started to stream through the thin curtains and her older brother turned the stove on to make eggs and toast, the small room started to heat up despite the early morning chill. El pushed the sleeves of Mike's old sweatshirt up her arms, but immediately regretted the action when she caught sight of the small tattoo on her forearm.

011.

Three little numbers had defined her childhood, but she refused to wear makeup to cover it—like Nancy or her mom had suggested. Whenever she wore short sleeves, the boys never failed to remark how "cool" it was. She blushed, thinking about the way Mike would trace the small, black numbers, saying that it was a part of herself that had made her stronger.

She ran her own finger over the numbers, the pricks of the needles that had drawn them onto her skin seemed to pierce her skin once more.

The young girl struggled against the leather straps, holding her wrists to the metal table. Tears rolled freely down her cheeks and sobs echoed in the empty room. Her thin hospital gown swallowed up her legs, but left most of her arms bare.

She screamed for her papa until her throat hurt. How could her papa let the men in white take her away and strap her to this cold table? Didn't he love her? Didn't he want her to be safe?

The metal door opened, and a man entered, a mask covering the lower half of his face, followed by a white-haired man.

"Papa," the girl pleaded quietly in a scratchy voice. Using her voice sent shooting pains throughout her body, she could barely say the short word or even call for him to help her.

He merely turned towards the other man, nodding his head slightly. His face remained the same as the man picked up a large object that looked like a gun, and the three-year-old in front of him started to sob once more

"Keep her still," the man growled, inserting a rather large needle into the front of the gun and positioning it above her left forearm.

"Calm down, child," Papa ordered, running a hand over her newly-shaved head. "You must stay still, for me. Don't worry. He isn't going to hurt you."

The girl sniffed, stopped thrashing around, and looked at her papa, the love for him overshadowed by the fear of his disappointment. The needle touched her skin, and started to trace over her flesh, sending burning pains up her arm and gathered in her chest. Her cries rose to a wail, causing the lights overhead to flicker violently, but she fought to keep still, deathly afraid of the intense pain spreading across more of her body than necessary. Her arm felt like it was on fire, as the needle ran in circles across her arm, before slashing two harsh lines into the skin.

"El," a concerned voice broke through her memories. Jonathan was staring at her, a crease forming between his eyebrows as he studied her tense form. "Are you okay? Nervous?"

Eleven nodded, her finger still tracing the tattoo under the table, readily taking the excuse he gave her. "Nervous."

"You'll be fine," her brother assured her, turning back to the stove as the rest of their little family entered.

Even as she was surrounded by her family, she felt separate from them, the memories bringing back the fact that she was merely a strange young woman with stranger powers that had only entered their lives a little over a decade ago. There couldn't have been enough time for the Byers and the chief to fully accept her into their little family. El was desperate for Mike, whose fingers would send happy sparks, not lines of fire, through her when he traced those numbers. Mike, who she had no shortage of experience missing, and who, despite their fights as kids, was the first person to ask her to join his family.

El missed him so much, it manifested as an ache in her chest, and she was glad that she had already eaten or else she doubted she would eat anything all day. In her head, she knew that Mike was probably thinking of her, but her heart itched to call him immediately, knowing that there was a time when he would have been at her side in an instant. She took a deep breath, calming her mind and emotions, knowing that she had to handle most of today by herself.

From when we were the children playing in this fairground

Wish I was there with you now

December 14, 1996

Mike dug through the many books and DVDs that cluttered the shelves and cubbies in the basement, a frantic energy surrounded him uncharacteristically early in the morning. Knocking his head against the side of the wooden shelf, he sat back into a crouch, clutching a large, brown book. The book itself had no title on the cover, but there were corners of photos sticking out over the edges of the pages, leaving no question as to what kind of book it was.

Smiling triumphantly, Mike opened the scrapbook, settling once more into a cross-legged position on the couch.

The first few photos his eyes landed on, were grainy, black-and-white security stills of a young girl with a shaved head, the logo of Hawkins Laboratory stamped in the bottom corner. When Chief Hopper had first shown him the footage from Eleven's time in the lab, he had seen red and wanted to tear the Hawkins Laboratory building down brick-by-brick. But, when Will showed the videos to Jonathan, the photographer had quickly found a few frames that he had then printed into pictures for Mike.

In the first, a seven-year-old El was sitting at her desk, using a frankly, pathetic supply of art supplies—according to Will—to draw a stick figure drawing of herself. Her large eyes were focused intently on her work, her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth.

Mike chuckled at her overly stressed expression, thinking of all the times over the years, he had seen that exact same expression on El's features whenever she was concentrating on her work or finding the right word to explain her confusion.

The second and third pictures were from the security cameras the night of November 15, 1983—the day of El's escape from Hawkins Lab. They seemed to have been taken seconds apart, one showed a seemingly empty hallway, the shadows obscuring the young girl's form from viewers (but Mike eyes immediately went to the faint outline hidden by those shadows) in the corridor that lead to the sewer grate that would take her to freedom. While the other showed, her face slowly emerging from the shadows, in fact most of it was still hidden, but he always thought that he could see a hint of joy or hope peeking through the expression of fear.

Even though the mere thought of her years at the lab would cause El to become an empty shell of herself, Mike was in awe at the bravery and strength she had as a child to have survived such an ordeal. He would never stop being impressed by her powers, and knew that her experiences had shaped her into the young woman he knew today. Mike knew it was selfish, but he would gladly shoulder her burden, and share her pain, if it meant she ended up in his life.

Flipping through pictures Jonathan had taken throughout their adolescence and teenage years, he found the one photo that wasn't exactly his favorite, but he clung to it because it managed to bring back the hope and grief and desperation felt in that moment.

The final black-and-white security photo was plastered on the very last page of the scrapbook. It was taken from a security camera in the corner of a Hawkins Middle School science classroom, on one 1983 night. El was standing, her hand outstretched towards the blackboard. A shadowy figure in the early stages of breaking up into what would be millions of pieces, surrounded her, but he could still make out El's figure despite those pieces that tried to swallow her. Although her face couldn't be seen in the photo, Mike's own features were contorted as if he were the one being ripped to pieces, his back against the wooden cabinets, and his hands were clamped over his ears, but his eyes were fixed on the shadowy mass at the blackboard even as Lucas and Dustin turned away.

Mike studied the picture in the early morning light, light that was beginning to stream through the small basement windows. It surprised even himself that he loved this picture as much as he did. Most people thought that it would merely stir up horrible memories of that week and that night, but he knew that the image captured by the camera, captured the moment he realized he was never going to forget El, and that he was determined to never stop looking for her, as long as they both lived.

'Cause if the whole world was watching I'd still dance with you

December 12, 1983

Mike Wheeler fiddled with his bow tie, picking apart the tight knot his father had tied for him, only minutes earlier. Tonight, was the first Snow Ball he was actually looking forward to going to, and had even managed to talk his friends into coming along. Although, if he was being honest, it didn't take much convincing, and Lucas had also managed to find a date to the dance.

His mother insisted on taking pictures of the gang and their dates before the dance, so he scampered down the stairs as the doorbell started to ring incessantly. Dustin, Will, and Lucas were waiting at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in a range of messy to neat, suits.

"I don't know how you talked us into this, man," Dustin complained, a broad grin on his face. "Will and I are just going to be the chaperones to your guys' date."

"It's not my fault no one wanted to go to the Snow Ball with you," Lucas retorted, as Mike's face turned bright red. "Besides, Will could have gone with Jennifer Hayes…"

"Yeah, right," Will snorted, "if I didn't shout the question at her from across the parking lot, and then immediately run away."

The four friends broke into good-hearted laughter, as each remembered that disastrous afternoon, and letting go of their nerves for a couple of minutes, completely missing the soft click of a camera as their mothers, and Jonathan crept into the room. A single, high chime cut through their mirth, silencing the four friends immediately.

"Come in, come in," Mrs. Wheeler chirped, ushering the girls into the living room. "Thank you so much Chief Hopper for dropping them off."

"It was no problem at all," came the gruff response, as the police officer entered awkwardly, tipping his hat to the mothers, before beating a hasty retreat. "I hope you all have a nice time."

Mike and Will exchanged a knowing look, when the sheriff's eyes lingered on Mrs. Byers, before he quickly turned on his heel and stomped out the door.

"Come on boys," Mrs. Byers encouraged, trying to draw attention away from her rapidly pinkening cheeks, "these pictures aren't going to take themselves."

Dustin groaned loudly, but quickly placed himself in the middle of the room, so he would be in the center of every picture. Not wanting to be left on the edges, Lucas grabbed his date's hand and tugged her towards their spot to the left of Dustin. Will was next, quickly moving towards the other side of Lucas, earning himself a glare from Dustin as it looked like he might be left on the edges after all.

"Where do we stand?" El asked, her wide, hazel eyes staring questioningly at Mike.

"Here," he maneuvered the two of them over towards Dustin's free side, gingerly taking her hand once they were in position.

The next ten minutes were filled with coos and even a few tears from their moms, as Jonathan snapped away on his camera, taking picture after picture as the friends jockeyed to be at the center of the line, and simply enjoyed being on their way to what was sure to be the best Snow Ball ever.

Mike shyly opened the door for El, his face turning an alarming shade of red that made his freckles disappear in a sea of crimson when she gave him a sweet smile and her light pink—nearly white—dress brushed his legs as she climbed into the car. He was tempted to childishly stick out his tongue at his friends, who immediately started to tease him about his red cheeks and sudden shyness, but managed to control himself.

After a blur of a car ride, their little group was at the middle school, and Mike was leading El towards the gym.

"Wait," she whispered, tugging on the short strands that were starting to cover her forehead and neck, as if to hide her face. "Mike…"

He waved his hand at his friends, shaking his head sharply when the boys started to move to crowd around El. "We'll catch up later," he hissed, turning concerned eyes to his date. "El, what's wrong?"

"The Snow Ball, it's in the gym." She stated, her eyes darting from the gym doors to lock onto Mike's, knowing that he would understand what she was worried about.

"Yeah, but you'll barely be able to recognize it," Mike comforted, squeezing her hand tightly. "There's usually lots of decorations, like paper snowflakes or blue and white streamers, that cover the walls and ceiling, so it doesn't look like a gym anymore."

El nodded, desperately wanting to see the winter scenery she now knew laid beyond the gym doors. Not a kiddie-pool that would let her see into the Darkness.

Mike pushed the doors open, turning just in time to see her mouth drop open, and her eyes widen, as she saw the decorated gym for the first time. The decorations weren't very fancy, sheets of construction paper covered the walls and the disco lights flashed intermittently and in no discernible pattern, but El was staring at the gym as if it was an actual Winter Wonderland.

"Pretty," she declared, her face breaking out into a wide smile, the first genuine one she had given since her weeks in the Upside-Down.

"Really pretty," Mike replied, gazing instead at El's overjoyed face. Her face was filling out but her hazel eyes still managed to stand out, and her dark brown hair kept falling in her eyes. Filled with an inexplicable surge of courage, Mike brushed the strands of hair behind her ear, causing her to turn and look at him, confusion plain on her face. "You…you look…you're really pretty, El."

She blushed lightly, but didn't turn away like some girls would, but instead, took the hand that had dropped back to his side and led him out onto the dance floor just as a slow song started playing.

He tripped over his feet a few times, before beginning to sway in time with the music, still holding El's hand. Glancing around at other couples, spotting Lucas and his date dancing close together only a few feet away, he turned back to El, "Like this." He placed her hands on his shoulders, before moving his to her waist. They stayed like that for the rest of the song, barely even noticing when the music ended and a more fast-paced song took its place.

The music suddenly filled his ears, turning into a cacophony of screeches and undefinable sounds as he sank to his knees, his hands clutching his ears, and his face twisted in pain. "What…what's happening?" He shouted, but everyone else didn't seem to notice the noise, continuing to dance and laugh as if nothing was wrong. "El! El, what's going on?" Mike pleaded, looking up at the telekinetic girl, her face set in a mask of neutrality. She clearly couldn't see what was happening to him, and kept staring at the spot where he had been standing only seconds earlier.

A wordless scream echoed, first throughout the suddenly empty gymnasium, and then throughout Mike's bedroom.

Drive highways and byways to be there with you

December 12, 1983

Mike punched his pillow, unshed tears clouding his vision as his dream played on a seemingly never-ending loop in his mind. The dance had seemed so real…El had seemed so real. But she's not coming back, he harshly reminded himself, grinding his teeth together. She's lost in the Upside-Down, she broke her promise and she isn't coming back.

Unable to get comfortable again, constantly haunted by the vision of El, smiling and laughing as they danced at the non-existent Snow Ball, Mike threw back the covers and got out of bed. He tugged on a sweatshirt and his sneakers, stoutly ignoring the suit hanging in the back of his closet, before he snuck out of his room and down the stairs to the garage.

Despite the fact that he was still wearing his pajama pants, he unlocked his bike, and walked it out of the garage and down the street, before hopping on and pedaling furiously away from his house. The wind stung his eyes, causing tears to build up until he was practically riding blind through the streets of Hawkins.

She has to be out there, she has to be, Mike repeated to himself as he sped towards Mirkwood, and the abandoned Hawkins Laboratory. The streetlamps became blurs and the houses were merely shapes in the dark, before giving way to the trees that bordered Mirkwood.

Hopping off the bike, he walked it into the thicket of trees until he was far enough into the wood that he could continue to bike, the wheels plowing a path through the dead grass. As the chain-link fence surrounding the laboratory came into his view, there was only one thought in his head: the gate had to be inside.

He circled the lab for at least an hour, becoming more and more frustrated with each pass, unable to find a way inside. Mike pushed his bike towards the barrier, in a futile attempt to punch a hole through, but it merely fell on its side with a dull crunch.

Mike glared at the building, angry that its continued existence—and his inability to find a way inside—meant that El potentially survived her fight with the Demogorgon, but he was powerless to find her. Just as he was useless to save her from such a fate in the first place.

The dull whirr of an engine broke through his thoughts, spurring him to action. Not wanting to be caught by however many bad men were returning to the facility, he yanked his bike upright before riding off in the opposite direction, no real destination on his mind, just towards El.

Over and over the only truth

Everything comes back to you

December 12, 1983

It didn't take Mike long to figure out that he was on the path to the quarry's cliff, the site of one of the last times he truly relied on El alone to save him.

During most of the week he knew her, he was always trying to protect her, whether it was from the bad men or from discovery by his parents. Yet, there were many times when her telekinesis saved their party more effectively and in more ways than he could have ever protected her.

He skidded to a stop, dropping his bike a few yards from the edge of the cliff, as he walked right to the short outcropping that overlooked the canyon. Mike stared at the bottom of the cliff, shivering as the cold December air bit through his sweatshirt, and there was a brief flash of realization as he remembered that it was winter and he had been riding around Hawkins in nothing but a sweatshirt and pajamas for hours.

Shaking his head, as if that would clear his head of those cautionary thoughts, he inched closer to the edge, his hands balling into fists and his dark eyes fixed intently on one point at the bottom of the canyon. His breath came in shorter pants as he stuck his toes over the edge of the cliff. The day Mike jumped off this very same ledge to stop Troy, it wasn't just to save Dustin—although that was a large part of his motivation. There was an irrational, probably half-crazed, part of his mind that saw it as a way to find El, so he could apologize for his harsh words the day before, words that had made her run away. He had been so certain that she would save him, he didn't even scream when he fell through the air. And when he was pushed back towards solid ground as she advanced on Troy and James, he had never been in more awe of her.

She could save me again, he thought, and for one frighteningly long minute, he seriously considered just stepping off the cliff's edge. It was an action that would either end with El saving him one more time, or with an emptiness that meant he didn't have to feel the pain that stabbed him in the chest every day he had to spend not looking for her. It seemed like a win-win scenario.

The full implications of his jump hit him like one of Troy's sucker punches to his gut. He was seriously considering suicide on the off-chance he could see El again. The thought that he had brought himself to such a low state, and that he knew El would be terrified if she read his thoughts, caused him to scramble back from the ledge, tears leaking out of his eyes. Sobs wracked his body, and he ran his hands over his face, pulling at his inky hair. Tears splattered the dusty road, streaming down his face in rivers, and showed no sign of stopping. El's disappearance had eaten away at Mike in the month or so following her disappearance, but he had clung to the hope that she would not break her promise to go with him to the Snow Ball. "Promise" meant so much to her, and yet, he had gone to the dance the other night, and she had not reappeared. It crushed him to admit it, and the mere shadow of the thought caused a fresh wave of tears and physical pain, but in the back of his mind, he knew that if she didn't find a way back in time for the Snow Ball, it was highly unlikely El was coming back at all.

He cried at the cliff's age until there were no more tears to fall, and the sound of dry sobs filled the night. When he felt steady enough to stand without pitching over the cliff to his death, the sun was starting to rise on the horizon. Mike sluggishly pulled his bike upright, weighed down by his aching heart, and rode back into town, prepared to take whatever scolding or lecture his mother was sure to give him once he was home. She could make him feel guilty or sorry for sneaking out, but it would barely register, compared to the numbing depression he felt, having finally accepted that El was never coming back. But if she does, he vowed, I'm never letting her go. I won't let you go again. I swear that to you, El. Promise.

A/N: Okay! So that's Chapter One, the whole fic is pretty much a mix of fluff and angst, and this chapter was definitely more angsty, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! Please review as I'm always open to constructive criticism. I'll definitely try uploading the rest within the next couple of weeks, on Thursdays, if you want to follow/favorite!