On the list of all the screw-ups Mike's ever made, not responding to El's bombshell of a confession is definitely item number one.

In his defense, when he confronted El about hiding something from him, he definitely wasn't expecting her to tell him that she'd escaped from a lab and had superpowers. To be completely honest, he wasn't quite sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn't that. Maybe something more along the lines of Dustin's old cult theory.

Either way, once she told him, it all made sense. The levitating lamp, Troy's broken arm, the shattered test tubes, the way that she freaked out over investigating supernatural stuff — she was a telekinetic and Mike was a total idiot that somehow had been oblivious to this fact the entire time.

Unfortunately, by the time he fully comes to terms with everything, it's too late. El is already looking at him with such a wounded, teary-eyed stare, like Mike had just broken her heart. He probably had. But before Mike can even reply, Mortensen comes back, detention ends a few minutes later, and El dashes out of the detention room so fast Mike has to sprint to even keep pace with her.

"El, wait!" Mike pants, following her down the hallway, but she doesn't stop.

She hurries to her locker, dials the combination, and retrieves her skateboard within the blink of an eye. By the time Mike reaches her locker, she's already slammed it shut and hurried out the front doors.

Mike runs after her, but when he finally makes it out the front doors, El is skating out of the parking lot.

Earlier this morning, after explaining the "tragic bike accident" that he'd gotten into, Mike had tried asking his parents for a new bike, but to no avail. They claimed that a) he should be more careful next time, b) he was old enough to save up his own money to pay for it, and c) wasn't he going to be taking driver's ed next summer anyway? Why should they bother investing in a bike he'd only use for 8 months?

Because now he has no chance of catching up to El.

"Shit." Mike groans. He turns to kick the brick wall of the school in frustration, but as he's still feeling sore from his fight with Troy, he only winds up stubbing his toe.

"Shit!" He groans again, clutching at his foot.

So, yeah, there's definitely no way that he's going after El. Not right now, anyway. Mike instead limps back home, frantically trying to figure out what to do next.

Should he wait until school on Monday? No, that would be too long. El is clearly upset, and there's no way that Mike's gonna leave her like that all weekend.

He should call her. It's probably not the best plan, considering that it failed to work last time, but it's better than nothing.

The minute Mike gets home, he rushes to the family phone and dials El's number.

As the phone begins to ring, Mike shuffles in place anxiously. "C'mon, El," he pleads, drumming his fingers on the handle of the receiver, "Please pick up."

No answer. The call goes straight to voicemail, so Mike tries leaving a message.

"Hey, El, this is Mike. If you get this message, please call me back. I need to talk to you, okay?"

Mike hangs up the phone, satisfied with his message...

...For about 3 seconds.

After he hangs up, he immediately starts second-guessing everything he just said. He needed to talk to her? Did that sound too demanding? What if she felt too pressured or freaked out by his voicemail, and it just made everything so much worse?

He leaves a second voicemail.

"Hi, El, this is Mike. Again. Look, I didn't mean that I needed to talk to you. We don't have to talk, if you don't want to, I just would, uh, really like to."

Mike cringes as he finishes his second voicemail. Somehow, his second attempt sounds even worse. It's way too whiny and lame for Mike's liking, so he tries for a third time.

Then for a fourth time...and a fifth...a sixth...and he starts to lose count after that.

El doesn't answer any of them, which may be a good thing, because the messages that Mike leaves don't improve, like, at all.

"So, anyway," Mike concludes, "I just really miss you, and I totally would have followed you home, but my bike is still broken."

Mike pauses, winces. He would have followed her home? He sounds like a complete stalker.

"Okay, well, I'm just gonna go now," Mike finishes quickly, "See ya' later, hopefully. I mean, if you want to see me, that is. I could see why you wouldn't want to, and like...okay, yeah, I'm hanging up now. Bye."

Mike groans as he sets the receiver down and slumps back against the wall.

He's such an idiot. Literally. If El had been reluctant to talk to him before, she's definitely not going to be persuaded by what had to be the weirdest voicemails that anyone had left in the history of forever.

Nevertheless, Mike hovers around the phone for the rest of the night. He does his homework and reads some comics in the living room, and every time he hears the phone ring, he rushes to answer it.

It's never her.

When the time comes for him to go to sleep, Mike trudges up to his room reluctantly. As he crawls into bed, his mind is a bustling flurry of thoughts and worries. He can't stop thinking about El's confession, about how hard her life must be, about how much of an idiot he is for calling her a liar to her face.

It can't end like this between them, it just can't.

Mike closes his eyes tightly and achingly hopes that he'll get a second chance to make things right with her.


When Mike wakes up Saturday morning, he quickly hurries back to the phone to see if anyone (El) left any voicemails. Unfortunately, the only messages left on the machine are from annoying telemarketers and boring employees from his dad's work.

Mike is temporarily disheartened, but then he realizes that El easily could have called and not left a message. Maybe someone else had talked to her.

With that in mind, Mike next goes into the kitchen, where he's greeted by the smell of frying eggs and sizzling bacon.

His mother has a tradition of cooking breakfast for the family on weekend mornings, so when Mike enters, he finds her working by the stove. She's surrounded by miscellaneous bowls and cooking utensils, wearing an apron that's dusted with flour, and has her hair up in a messy up-do. When she turns to see Mike sliding into the kitchen, she gives him a warm, though slightly concerned smile.

"Michael?" She asks, "What are you doing up so early?"

"I dunno," Mike replies with a shrug, "I just woke up."

"You should go lie down until breakfast is ready," His mother says gently, "You need to let your wounds heal."

"No, I'm fine!" Mike scoffs, "I told you, I just fell off my bike!"

"You look more like you fell off a cliff, Michael," Mrs. Wheeler points out, only half-joking.

"Whatever!" Mike says with a huff. They're getting off topic here. "Did I get any messages?"

"Messages?" Mrs. Wheeler repeats, sounding confused.

"Yeah? Like on the phone! Did anyone call asking about me?"

"Not that I know of," His mother replies, shaking her head. She glances up from the skillet of bacon she's frying to eye Mike curiously. "Why? Are you expecting someone?"

"No!" Mike answers quickly, "I mean...kinda."

His mom gives him a hopeful smile. "Does this have anything to do with El?"

Mike has honestly done his best to repress the embarrassing memory of his mom meeting El, so when he's reminded that Mrs. Wheeler is fully aware of who his crush is, it takes him by surprise.

"W-what?! No!" He stammers unconvincingly.

"Uh huh," Mrs. Wheeler simpers with a knowing look before turning her attention back to cooking. "You should invite her over again, Michael. She seemed really nice. She's really pretty too."

Mike wants to be annoyed, because really, his mom has to be the most embarrassing mom ever, but her words only remind him that the chances of El ever coming over again are currently slim to none.

He has to find a way to fix this, to make things right with El...and he thinks he knows exactly who can help.

After breakfast, Mike hurried back to the phone and uses the Yellow Pages to look up another number.

As he dials the number, Mike braces himself to be laughed at. Maybe even yelled at. Either way, he knows that he's probably going to get called out.

Her mom answers the phone. Mike asks to speak to her daughter, and minutes later, Max is yawning into the phone.

"Whaddya want, Wheeler?" She asks, sounding tired.

"I need help," Mike pleads.

"You can say that again," Max comments, proceeding to laugh at her own jab.

Mike allows her to finish laughing, his expressions stoic the entire time.

"Seriously, though," Max finally continues, "You cut off my Saturday-sleep-in time. Whatever you need, it better be important."

Mike hesitates. He's not sure what Max knows, so he has to tread carefully here. "El and I got in a fight," he weakly admits, "I...I really messed up."

"No shit," Max replies dryly. "I mean, she literally told you the biggest secret ever, and you just stared at her like a spaced-out weirdo."

"She told you?!"

"Duh! She's my best friend, of course she's gonna tell me when you act like a total idiot."

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" Mike sighs, "I didn't mean to make her feel bad, I was just surprised, is all. But now she won't answer any of my calls and I think she's mad at me."

"She's not mad," Max hesitates, "I would say she's more...completely devastated."

Mike frowns. "Wow. Great."

"What can I say?" Max continues, "You screwed up, Wheeler."

"I know, I know!" Mike replies frustratedly, "But I'm going to make things right. I have to make things up to her, I just don't know how."

Max gives an indifferent, yet somewhat curious, sort of hum. "What's your plan?" She asks cooly.

"I dunno," Mike admits, "I was thinking that maybe I could do something really nice for her. What kind of stuff would she like?"

"The Clash?" Max offers, "Movies?"

"Okay..." Mike frowns, not sure of how he could implement either of those into an apology.

"Oh!" Max pipes up, sounding more excited. "She loves Eggos!"

"Eggos?" Mike echoes.

"Yeah? Like the waffles? She loves them. I dunno why, but she always has."

Mike thinks back to the last time that they were at Benny's, when he and El had shared a waffle together. Even though they'd bickered at the library, when they sat side-by-side in that cozy diner booth, they'd been able to make amends.

Maybe, as cheesy as it may sound, sharing waffles again can help them reconcile this argument too.

God, he's such a wasteoid — a sappy, lovesick wasteoid.

Regardless, when he shares this plan with Max, she seems to approve.

"Oh yeah, she'll love that," Max concurs, "Just don't find a way to screw things up again."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Mike replies flatly.

"Anytime, dweeb."

Before they hang up, Max agrees to give El's address to Mike (though not without teasing him for being a total stalker).

After he ends the call, Mike hurries upstairs to shower and get dressed for the day. When he finishes, he digs through his sock drawer and pulls out the secret mason jar that he keeps all his money in.

He counts the money, all of which is leftover from his test-selling days, and comes to a grand total of $10. As he stares at the crumpled wad of bills in his hands, he hesitates. He initially planned on using the money to start saving up for another bike, but...

He thinks back to El's tearful, heartbroken stare, and his decision is made for him.

He grabs his windbreaker, stuffs the money into his pockets, and leaves his house to begin the long walk to Bradley's Big Buy grocery store.

When Mike arrives, it doesn't take long for him to realize that he's made a gross underestimation. Knowing that El likes Eggos isn't nearly enough information, as, standing in the middle of the frozen food aisle, Mike learns that there are multiple different Eggos flavors.

So which one is her favorite? Homestyle? Cinnamon? Blueberry? Banana? Chocolate Chip?

Mike bites down on his lip as he weighs out all the options. If he picks one that she hates, then this entire plan will be for nothing.

Better to be safe than sorry, he finally decides, and proceeds to grab one box in every single flavor.

The cashier gives him a wary look when Mike comes to check out. Mike doesn't care enough to explain why a lone, bruised-looking kid is buying so many waffles for himself, so he instead just raises his eyebrow in response before handing over the cash.

In the end, he leaves the store with a plastic bag full of Eggos and a little over $3 in his pocket. It's totally worth it.

As he follows Max's instructions on how to get to El's house, he tries rehearsing what he should say to her.

"Hi, El," Mike murmurs, talking to the sidewalk. "It's uh...a pretty good morning, huh?"

He pauses. It's not really a good morning for El, not when she'd supposedly spent the night feeling 'completely devastated.'

He tries again.

"Hey, El! It's...it's the morning! Have you had breakfast yet? Because I got you breakfast."

Now he sounds like her parent.

"Max told me you like Eggos," Mike tries again, "So, I just thought that you might like some, because...uh...you like them."

It would seem that even the universe itself had enough of Mike's cringe-worthy speeches, as after he finishes speaking, he accidentally trips over a large dip in the sidewalk and falls right onto his face.

Mike curses and groans, mostly because ouch, he was already still sore and that had really hurt, but also because during his fall, the plastic bag he'd been using to carry the waffles tore right across the bottom. The boxes of Eggos are now scattered around him on the sidewalk, and his wounds feel like they're throbbing again.

Great. Just great.

Despite this unfortunate turn of events, Mike doesn't allow himself to give up. He instead rises to his feet, brushes himself off, and bundles all the Eggo boxes into his arms. He has to walk a little slower to avoid dropping the waffles, but it's a manageable task.

About 20 minutes later, Mike arrives at a small, secluded family home located on the outskirts of town. It's a fairly average-looking house, but it's the only one nearby and it has a Hawkins police cruiser parked in the driveway, so Mike knows that this has to be El's place.

Unless Max purposely gave him the wrong address to mess with him. She wouldn't do that...would she?

Mike starts to feel anxious as he approaches the front door. It's kind of hard to reach the doorbell when he's holding the small mountain of Eggo boxes in his arms, but he manages to press the button using his elbow.

He hears the doorbell echo inside the house and holds his breath, heart starting to pound. What if she doesn't want to talk to him? What if she spits in his face, or yells at him, or cries again, or—

His thoughts come to a screeching halt as the front door swings open. But, to Mike's surprise, it's not El who answers, but a man.

A really large, really tall, really intimidating-looking man.

"Can I help you?" The man asks gruffly.

Mike swallows. "H-hi. I'm — uh — looking for El?"

The man scans him over. "Who are you?"

"Mike? Mike Wheeler?"

The man's eyes widen in shock, though Mike's not quite sure why. "Mike?" He asks incredulously.

"Yeah?" Mike asks nervously.

"You're Mike?" He asks again, voice getting a little louder.

Mike isn't sure if he's supposed to be raising his voice too, but he does anyway. "Yeah?!" He repeats, also louder.

The man blinks at him for a moment before eyeing him. "The same Mike who left 20 voicemails on my answering machine last night?" He asks flatly.

Mike blushes. Had it really been that many?

"Yeah," Mike confesses sheepishly.

"The same Mike that had my daughter crying for most of last night?" The man asks challengingly.

Mike lowers his head. "Yeah," he mumbles.

The man doesn't say anything more. Instead, he continues to give Mike a hardened glare.

Mike, fearing that he's about to get kicked out, quickly speaks up to defend himself. "I'm really, really sorry I hurt her feelings!" He earnestly pleads, "I made a mistake and I need to tell her that. I just wanted to come over and apologize in person!"

The man eyes him skeptically again. "What's with all the waffles?"

"The waffles?" Mike blushingly echoes, glancing down at the big stack of boxes, "I, uh, got these for El. Max told me that she really likes them."

"You talked to Max?"

"Yeah. We're friends. Kind of."

The man scans him over again, quietly contemplating for a moment, before he gives a reluctant sigh. "Alright, kid, come on in."

Mike smiles. "Really?"

"Uh-huh."

"Thanks!" Mike beams, stepping through the doorway. He stops in the foyer, looking around the house curiously. Similarly to his home, directly in front of him lies the stairs to the upper floor. To his left, he can see the living room. To his right, there's a slightly messy kitchen. On the kitchen table sits a bunch of manila folders and an ashtray, the latter of which has a still-glowing cigarette butt resting inside.

"Is El home?" Mike asks, glancing at the man, who he's just going to assume is El's dad.

"Yeah," El's dad nods, glancing towards the stairs, "I think she's still asleep. I mean, she hasn't really left her room."

Mike frowns as he feels another tinge of guilt jab at him. "Oh," he mumbles.

"I'm sure she'll be happy to see you, though," Her dad continues. He pauses, then nods his head towards Mike. "I'm her dad, by the way. Jim Hopper."

"You're the chief of police, right?" Mike asks nervously.

"Uh huh," Hopper nods, giving him a knowing look. "So, no funny business, alright?"

Mike's cheeks flush pink. "I wasn't planning on any," he insists, flustered.

"Good answer," Hopper smiles. He opens his mouth to add something, but is abruptly cut off by a small, sleepy voice.

"Dad?" The voice calls out, coming from the top of the stairs. "What's going on? I heard shouting."

Mike and Hopper both turn to see El coming down the staircase, wiping at her eyes tiredly. She comes to a stop on the last step, finally lowering her hands to look at the scene before her.

And Mike's jaw drops.

She's wearing a baggy yellow Benny's Burgers T-shirt and gray sweatpants as pajamas, but it's not her outfit that shocks Mike.

It's her hair.

For the first time since Mike's ever known her, it's not slicked back. Instead, it curls and spirals in a fluffy mop. It's mussed from sleep, causing several flyways and ringlets to stick out in odd directions. It's even curlier than Dustin's, which Mike never knew was possible.

She's also notably not wearing any eyeshadow, but nevertheless, when El turns to look at Mike, her wide-eyed gaze looks just as large and piercing.

"Mike?!" El squeaks, looking terrified.

"El?" Mike gapes, looking stunned.

"Mike," Hopper smirks, turning to look at El triumphantly.


Mike and El are seated side-by-side on the living room couch. Mike has removed his windbreaker, but he still has the pile of Eggo boxes resting on his lap, and El is hugging her knees, looking extremely nervous. Her face is a vibrantly bright pink, and she seems almost scared to look at Mike.

Hopper is seated directly across from them in an armchair he pulled up. He's smoking another cigarette, examining both Mike and El closely.

Mike can't help but feel like he's about to be interrogated, which forces him to keep his gaze locked on Hopper, even though he really, really wants to look at El.

Hopper removes the cigarette from his mouth and uses it to point towards Mike. "So, Mike."

"Yeah?" Mike inquires anxiously.

"You're the kid who's dating my daughter," Hopper says definitively.

Dating?! Mike nearly chokes as he blushes bright red.

"We're not dating!" He exclaims at the same time that El does.

Mike and El blush harder and exchange embarrassed glances. Even though El follows this up by looking away again, Mike can't help but stare a little longer. Her hair is just…crazy. It's so big and so curly and just…

Beautiful.

"Then what are you?" Hopper counters, raising an eyebrow.

Mike quickly snaps his attention back to Hopper. "We're, uh…we're friends."

"Huh," Hopper grunts, "Okay then. What do you do, Mike?"

Mike swallows. "I'm president of the A.V. Club?" He replies, and winces. Why did he have to say it like it was a question? He's so nervous and sounds so much like a liar, Hopper's probably going to like, arrest him, or something.

"What's that?" Hopper asks, brow furrowed.

"The Audiovisual Club? We're in charge of like, fixing technology, and dealing with film equipment, and making videos for the school."

"What kind of videos?"

"Whatever the school wants," Mike shrugs. He can feel his nervousness slowly fading the more he talks about the familiar subject, "Right now we're working on a video homage for the Homecoming football game next weekend."

"I see," Hopper nods slowly. He slips his cigarette back into his mouth and takes another smoke before continuing. "So, you two going to Homecoming?" He asks, glancing between the two of them.

"Dad!" El squeaks, eyes wide.

"What?" Hopper asks. He sounds nonchalant, but Mike can detect the teasing edge to his voice.

El gives him a pointed, annoyed glare before motioning to Mike. "You're being embarrassing!" El whispers, cheeks crimson.

"It's fine!" Mike assures her, giving El a small smile.

El looks only more flustered by this and quickly turns to back to her dad, who looks bemused by the entire situation.

"See? I'm fine," Hopper shrugs to El.

El gives him a flat stare.

"So, kid," Hopper takes another drag of his cigarette before continuing his conversation (interrogation) with Mike. "El tells me you got in a fight?"

"Uh, yeah," Mike reluctantly admits.

"Why?"

Mike hesitates. He turns to glance at El, unsure of how much he should reveal to her Dad, but El is now staring determinedly at her socks.

"There's this guy at our school…" Mike slowly begins, "Troy. He's a huge jerk, like he's always picking on literally everybody. And he said some bad stuff about El on Wednesday, so I…I threw a dodgeball at him, and so he got mad, so he, uh, kinda beat me up on Thursday."

"And that's when you saw El," Hopper carefully says.

"Yeah," Mike nods, "She…uh…used her powers to stop him."

El remains silent and hugs her knees closer to her chest, looking increasingly nervous.

"So, she told you," Hopper summarizes, glancing at El.

Mike nods.

"Is that why you guys fought?"

Mike and El glance at each other, each looking rather remorseful. "Kind of, yeah," Mike mumbles ashamedly.

There's an awkward silence comprised of El shifting in place, Mike drumming on the side of his Eggo boxes, and Hopper regarding them both with an unreadable, slightly analytical expression on his face.

"But that's why I'm here," Mike continues, glancing at Hopper, and then at El.

El pauses and finally holds Mike's gaze, looking intrigued.

"I wanna say that I'm sorry," Mike states sincerely, not looking away from El. "I'm really, really sorry, and I want to make things up."

"With Eggos?" Hopper asks, sounding amused.

"With Eggos," Mike repeats, starting to realize how lame his waffle-plan sounds.

There's a small smile tugging at the corner of El's lips, but she remains blank-faced for the most part. "Why did you bring so many?" She asks.

It's the first question she's directed towards Mike since he arrived, and it takes Mike by surprise.

"I, uh," he stammers shyly, "I didn't know what kind you liked, so I just got…all of them."

For a brief second, Mike could swear that he hears El giggle, but she masks it with a small cough. "Oh," she says nonchalantly, looking away from him again.

"Anyway," Hopper continues, cigarette still balanced between his lips, "You know that you gotta keep quiet about El's powers, right, kid?"

"Of course!" Mike nods earnestly.

"'Cause we wouldn't want her to be put in danger."

"Never!"

El glances back and forth between both guys, looking a little anxious. "Dad?"

Hopper turns to her. "Yeah?"

"Can I talk to Mike?"

"Of course you can talk to him."

"Alone?"

Hopper eyes El, and then Mike, but Mike only smiles awkwardly in response.

"I guess so," Hopper yields.

"C'mon," El says to Mike quickly, already grabbing him by the arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" Hopper asks, affronted by her attempted hasty departure.

"Upstairs?" El answers, as if it was obvious.

"To your room?" Hopper asks, looking suspicious.

El nods.

Mike can see that Hopper is wrestling with how to respond. He inhales another whiff of his cigarette and breathes out, causing smoke to plume from his nose.

"Fine," Hopper reluctantly says after a beat of silence. "I'll just…uh…stay down here then." His gaze flits down to the Eggo boxes in Mike's arms and he proceeds to grab them out of Mike's grasp. "I don't think you've had breakfast yet, so I'll get these started for ya'."

"Thank you!" El says in relief. She gives Mike another tug on his arm and starts pulling him along, leading him out of the living room, back into the foyer, and up the stairs.

"Hey, kid?" Hopper calls out at their retreating backs.

El and Mike pause at the middle of the staircase. "Yes?" El calls back, slightly impatient.

"Do me a favor and keep your door open, okay?"

Mike watches as El gives an aggravated sigh under her breath. "Okay," she gripes.

She turns to shake her head at Mike, giving him a look that screams, can you believe my dad?, but Mike only smiles nervously in response. He's still reeling over the fact that he's about to go to El's bedroom to be alone with her, and even though he knows that they're probably just gonna talk, he feels like his mind is about to short-circuit.

El leads him the rest of the way up the stairs, down the hallway, and into her bedroom. As she pulls him inside, Mike casually examines her room.

The walls are pink, which Mike honestly wouldn't expect from El, but then again, it's not like he's not learning that there's a lot of unexpected things about El. The walls are covered in posters of various bands and polaroids of her and Max. There's a dresser against the wall with a small TV on it, alongside various bottles of nail polish.

Heeding her dad's instructions, El leaves the bedroom door ajar. She lets go of Mike's arm and moves to sit on the full-sized bed that's adorned with a big, soft quilt and several pillows.

"I'm sorry about that," She apologizes as she takes a seat.

Mike, still blushing like crazy, hesitantly moves to sit beside her, making sure there's plenty of space between them. Her legs hang off the bed as his remain planted on her plush carpeted floor. "About what?" He asks.

"My dad," El huffs, "All the questions. And—" she pauses and motions to herself, "Me."

"What's wrong with you?" Mike frowns.

El bites down on her lip and looks away, embarrassed. "My hair?" She mumbles. "And I'm not dressed."

"So? You look great!" Mike assures her.

El eyes him.

"I'm serious!" Mike insists, "When I saw you come downstairs, the only reason I looked so surprised was just because it's so...different. But different isn't bad!"

El relaxes a bit, but still looks a little awkward.

"...Why do you keep it slicked back all the time?" Mike asks cautiously.

"Because," El sighs, "I feel like I look like a dweeb."

"You don't," Mike pauses, blushes. "You look really pretty."

El's eyes widen as she gives him a startled, yet flattered, smile.

"So, uh," Mike continues quickly, moving the conversation along before they can dwell too long on the 'pretty' part, "Why did you bring me up here?"

"Right," El replies, sitting up straighter. "I wanted to talk to you, alone. I think…I think we should talk about everything that happened."

Mike feels himself breathe a sigh of relief. She's willing to talk to him. After how dumb he'd acted around her, it's way more than he feels he deserves.

"Listen," Mike hurries to say, not wanting to waste any time mincing words, "I'm sorry I didn't say anything when you told me about your powers. I was just so surprised, I didn't know what to say. It was just…not what I was expecting, and I should have said something."

He pauses, before quickly adding, "Also, I'm so, so sorry I called you a liar. You're not a liar, I was just being too pushy and annoying and—"

"Mike," El cuts him off, "It's okay. I shouldn't have ignored you."

Mike doesn't know if he should ask the question plaguing his mind, but he does anyway. "Why did you?"

El falls silent as she thinks of what to say. "I thought that I would hurt you," she finally answers.

"Hurt me?"

El nods. "That you'd get hurt because of me, like with Troy."

"That wasn't your fault though," Mike points out, "I made my own decision, and it's not like Troy didn't deserve it. Also, our fight wasn't even that bad."

El gives him a flat stare that's so indignant, Mike doesn't have to ask to know that she doesn't believe him.

"It's true!" Mike nevertheless insists, "...Mostly."

"Hardly," El mutters.

"Besides," Mike continues, tilting up his chin and pointing to his bruised jawline, "Now we match." He leans in to point at the faint scrape on El's chin, the one she'd gotten the first time she tried skateboarding.

El blinks at him in confusion, and it suddenly occurs to Mike that perhaps that wasn't the most tactful of jokes.

But then El glances down at her bruised chin, and then Mike's, and then she snorts. She snorts, and her snorts turn into giggles, and her giggles collapse into laughter.

Mike doesn't think that the joke was that funny, but it dawns on him that perhaps it was just the tension-relieving jab that El needed.

"We match!" She smiles, looking visibly more comfortable after her laughs die down.

"We do," Mike grins at her and shrugs, unsure of what to say next.

They both fall silent for a minute as El begins to carefully study his face. As her eyes scan his features, Mike desperately wishes he could read her thoughts.

As if sensing his inner wish, El raises a tentative offer, "Do you want to ask me anything?"

"What?" Mike asks.

"About my powers?"

"Oh, right!" Mike replies, "I mean…yeah! Of course, I do! There's just so much, I don't even know where to start!"

"Well, what do you want to know?" El asks.

"I dunno!" Mike exclaims with a light laugh, "I mean, everything! Or, I guess, whatever you feel comfortable telling me. I just…I want to know everything about you. I don't want us to keep secrets from each other."

El smiles gratefully, then pauses. "Well…you can ask me anything. I don't remember a lot, mostly just what my dad has told me."

"Okay…" Mike takes a bit to come up with his first question, but even though El's given him permission to ask, he still treads forward cautiously. "…Do you know who your other dad is? Like, your biological one?"

El shakes her head. "I think my mom started doing the experiments after she got pregnant with me."

"Oh, okay…so, that story about your dad, Hopper, I mean, having you then getting divorced, that's not true?"

"It's not," El admits, "He just told that so it wouldn't be so weird when he came back to Hawkins with a kid."

"That makes sense."

"Yeah."

"So, what can you do, exactly?"

"Just what I told you," El replies, idly playing with a stray thread on her bed's quilt, "I can move things, break things."

"Can you like, read minds?"

"No, but sometimes I can see people."

Mike crinkles his brow. "See people?"

"It's hard to explain," El pouts, "Sometimes, in my mind, I can go to this place. It's like…a void, and I can see what someone is saying or doing."

Mike's eyes widen. "Holy shit!" He murmurs, impressed, "That's really cool!"

"I guess so."

"So…what do the nosebleeds mean? Does that have anything to do with the Void?"

"No," El shrugs, "They just happen when I use my powers, or when I get really upset."

"Does it hurt to use your powers?"

"No, but sometimes I get really tired after."

"Is that why you passed out at the party?"

El nods.

Mike finds himself shuddering a little as he thinks back to that night. Seeing El sprawled lifeless across the floor is still one of the most terrifying moments he's ever experienced. He'd just felt so defenseless and confused, like there was nothing he could do to help El.

Maybe, if he'd known about her powers, he would have been able to better help her, somehow. The realization is a little frustrating, though Mike isn't quite sure if he's more upset with El or himself.

"You could have told me," Mike pauses, "I know you said that I can't keep secrets, but I would never tell anyone about this. I mean, it's like your Dad said, it could put you in danger!"

"It could," El admits, starting to look worried again.

"They're not still after you, are they?" Mike asks concernedly, "The people at the lab?"

"No," El answers definitively, but she still seems increasingly anxious, "When the lab shut down, they were all arrested. But it's still not completely safe. It never will be."

Mike can see her hands clench tightly, a sign he knows means that she's getting anxious.

"I still see them," she mumbles, "I have nightmares, and sometimes they feel real. Like…like I'm trapped again, and—"

Her voice cracks and wavers off, and that's all it takes for Mike to quickly pull her into his arms for a tight hug. "Hey!" He says soothingly, "It's okay! They can't hurt you anymore, okay?"

El nods into his chest, breathing out shakily. She gingerly returns his hug, burrowing herself into his embrace.

Mike holds her as she calms herself, rocking her side-to-side ever-so-slightly. As she relaxes against him, Mike keeps one hand rested against her back and moves the other to rest in her impossibly curly hair, and even though this really isn't the right time, holy shit it's so soft and wow, was he weird for noticing?

"I'm sorry I freaked out," El eventually mumbles into his chest, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I was just scared."

"Of the lab?"

"Yes, but you too. I thought…I thought you would think I was a freak."

"I would never think that!" Mike declares adamantly, "You're…you're amazing."

"I am?"

"You are!" Mike nods, absentmindedly twisting one of her curls around his finger, "You're like, really smart, like you always do a good job whenever we work on our homework and biology assignments and stuff. And you're really caring. You protected me from Troy, and from the fight at Jennifer's party, and even when you were uncomfortable about helping me investigate stuff, you still never called me crazy or a liar or anything. You're just really the coolest person I know."

El shifts in his arms, and Mike can sense her smiling. "Oh," she says simply.

"And," Mike continues, "Your powers are awesome. You're like a Jedi! Or a Mage!"

"A Mage?" El questions curiously.

"Yeah, a Mage. It's a character class in Dungeons and Dragons. Mages are like wizards, they can cast all kinds of spells and do magic and stuff, except they don't need a spell book. They can just cast spells with words or gestures or whatever. They're super cool."

El pulls out of his embrace to meet his gaze. "You think I'm like that?" She asks hopefully.

Mike frowns, not quite sure what she's asking. "Like what?"

"Like…the coolest person you know?"

Mike feels his heart skip a beat as he meets her gaze and nods.

El smiles excitedly before leaning back in to hug him once more. "You're the coolest person I know, too," she mumbles, talking into his chest again.

The way she's talking into him is somewhat reminiscent of her behavior at Jennifer's party, only this time is way better, mainly because El's not drugged, obviously, but also because there's no second-guessing whether or not El means what she's saying.

"I'm not cool," Mike jokingly mumbles back, resting his chin atop her head.

"Yes, you are," El insists. As she talks, her fingers trace lackadaisical patterns on his back, leaving goosebumps behind, "You're really funny, and you make me laugh all the time. And you're even smarter, and you protect me, and…I feel safe with you."

Mike finds himself holding his breath, as if he dares to move, this tender moment they're sharing will somehow fracture. "Really?" He asks, voice a hushed murmur.

"Yes," El whispers.

Mike smiles and cuddles her closer. In that moment, with El bundled in his arms, Mike vows to himself that he'll never stop keeping her safe. Even though she's more than capable of fighting her own battles, Mike wants her to always know that he'll be there to watch her back, or help her when she stumbles.

He's just about to tell her so, but then he's suddenly cut off by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Both Mike and El jolt out of each other's arms, startled to see that Hopper is now standing in the doorway to El's bedroom.

"Dad!" El gasps. "Hi!"

"Hey," Hopper greets casually, "The Eggos are done."

"The Eggos?" El echoes, looking puzzled.

"The ones that Mike brought?"

"Right!" El blushes. "I forgot."

Hopper raises an eyebrow as he glances at Mike and El. "Did I interrupt something?"

Mike, still well aware of the fact that her dad is a cop, feels his heart stop. "No!" He replies quickly, sliding a few inches away for emphasis. "We were just talking!"

"I see," Hopper says, sounding quite skeptical.

"We'll be down in a minute!" El tells her dad, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Humph," Hopper snorts, turning to go back into the hallway, "Well, you better hurry, otherwise they're gonna get cold, and I'll probably eat them all."

Mike and El both snort and exchange wry smiles.

As soon as El's dad heads back downstairs, it dawns on Mike that they have another issue to deal with: how El is going to handle her powers around Will, Lucas, and Dustin.

Mike turns to look at El again, trying to keep his demeanor as non-pressuring as possible. "Are you going to tell the rest of our friends?"

El pauses, as if the idea had only just dawned on her. "I didn't think of them," she admits, "I…I'm not sure."

"Well, I think you should," Mike gently suggests, "I know they'll support you."

El eyes him. "Really?"

"Yeah!" Mike nods, "And besides, then you'll be able to be more comfortable around them! And like, if we ever get stuck in a situation where something goes wrong again, like at Jennifer's party, we'll all be there to help you."

"You're right," El admits, nodding, "But…"

Mike frowns. "But?"

"I'm still a little scared," El murmurs, giving him an apologetic frown.

Mike gives her a soft smile in return. Though he can feel his heart fluttering nervously in his chest, he carefully reaches out and grasps her hand. "Don't worry," he assures her, "I can help you tell them. You won't have to do this alone."

El glances down at their hands, then back up at him. "Promise?" She whispers.

Mike smiles. "I promise."

El gives him a hopeful, tender smile. She carefully moves their hands so that their fingers are tightly intertwined, and, as she leans in to rest her head on his shoulder, Mike can't help but revel in how perfectly they fit.