Morning light streams through his windows, and Mike groans as he rolls over in his bed to bury his head in his pillows.
He hears his door cautiously being pulled open, his mother's face peering in.
He sits upright abruptly, "mom!"
"Oh, sorry, sorry." She says with a face that borders on not being sorry at all, "breakfast's ready," she pauses, a hand curling on his door, mouth open slightly as if feeling words on the tip of her tongue.
Mike feels it necessary to stop her before she says something that will have the pit in his stomach drop further.
"I'm coming down. Just give me a minute." He states calmly, staring at his mom with a defensive expression.
And so, he waits until she nods whilst giving him a look as if she can tell just exactly what he's doing, but she moves away from the door anyway and he hears her light footsteps travelling down, down, down.
He collapses back in his bed, emotions eating him up that he tries to suppress.
He wants today to be normal.
He wants El to realise she made a mistake.
He wants people to stop acting like he doesn't give a shit.
"Why is it you only seem to care about me when I'm dying, or when I'm in danger?"
Will flashes across his mind, the sharpness of his words yesterday, his face that fell as soon as Jonathan walked through the door, the tears he could see out of the corner of his eyes.
"You never say it."
Love. Why did everyone focus so much on that word? As if caring wasn't the same thing, as if feeling your heart being ripped out, feeling like the earth will shatter, as if feeling alone wasn't good enough… Like you have to say it for it to be true.
He does love El. He just can't say it because…
And that moment that he wants to erase, the moment where his heart was beating up into his throat, where he felt unsteady and like the world around him was beating out of existence… the moment where he wanted to take the words he'd spilled back and never let them see the light of day again, well, they come back to haunt him.
"I thought that if I pretended, that. That we weren't close anymore, I wouldn't feel-,"
He grabs at his hair and mushes his face back into his bed, trying to forget as his emotions swirl around like buzzing bees.
"MICHAEL WHEELER!"
"OH my GOD. Jesus, I'm coming!" He yells out in agitation, clambering out of bed and finding mismatching clothes to shove on, almost tripping in the rush out of his door to brush his teeth. But he's almost grateful for the distraction.
Once he's downstairs, his mom is standing with a hand on her hip, his dad's face shoved in a newspaper, Holly staring at him with wide blue eyes.
"It's going to be cold." His mom says with a tick, and then serves the table.
"Welcome to the land of the living, son," his dad mutters, placing his newspaper neatly down to survey the food, picking up his utensils lazily.
"Yeah, because being, what, a few minutes late to breakfast is some insurmountable grievance for you," Mike throws his hands up, "I can't do anything right in this house, apparently. You see that, Holly?" He says sarcastically, watching Holly's eyes grow bigger, and then she nods, not fully understanding the question.
"Ha, see!"
His dad doesn't attempt to respond, just whistles and then starts eating, but his mom throws out a "Mike! What's gotten into you?"
"Nothing's 'gotten into me', alright. I'm just fine. You guys are the ones making a big deal-,"
Ted decided to butt in at this with a mouthful of food, "you'll start proving the newspapers right with that attitude," he starts, tone mocking, picking up his folded newspaper and pointing, "it's all this talk about that game of yours being a cover for 'satanic worship'. I'd half believe it, what with the rumours going around about that Eddie Munson lad." He raises an eyebrow at Mike.
Mike feels himself go rigid.
"Tell me, though, where does our boy get that attitude from? Personally, I can't stand the drama, or the headache." He points the question to his mom, taking another momentary bite of food, but his mom just looks between them both with a distressed face.
"You don't know what you're talking about." Mike says with a low voice and clenched teeth.
Ted seems to surmise he's talking about what he last said. And with a jibe he says, "sure, I don't. It's not like you didn't friends with someone who might turn out to be a freak serial killer. You'll send your mother to an early grave with how she was worrying. It's best you be careful who you hang around in future, Michael. People get ideas."
Mike watches Ted chewing food with an open mouth in slow motion, a ringing in his head as he continues, "just like that old friend of yours, Will. And I'm sorry, but I never liked the boy. Too strange." He takes a moment to cut up his bacon, utensils making a racket on the plate, and then, "hey, not all his fault," he says, pushing his chunky glasses up a tad, flinging out a fork in his direction with the same hand, "blame the mother, not the kid."
"Ted." Karen says, voice of steel, and Ted just looks up, swallowing, confused at the sudden silence.
"What? What'd I say?" Ted asks.
"You know what? I don't want to hang around a second longer in this house. Enjoy breakfast." Mike squeezes his hands tighter till nails poke into his palms, and he storms toward the front door, his mom tailing behind him and calling his name.
He slams it.
As he's walking around, a little aimlessly, he takes a moment to collect his thoughts.
His plan for today was lounge in bed, be miserable for a minute, maybe then go to Hopper's and plead his case. Just better than last time.
"El, let's rewind back a few steps, alright?"
"No! You still can't say it, even when I say we should break up."
"Not saying it doesn't mean I don't!"
El gives him a confrontational look, "Max and Lucas say it all the time. I say it all the time. Why can't you?"
Mike gives her a confounded look right back, "it's different. It's just… hard. I'm sorry, okay?"
El turns away as Mike reaches out, "it's not enough."
"What?"
And then she turns back with a welling of tears, "it's not enough," she shoves his chest lightly, "all my life, Mike. I have been hurt, over and over. I already feel different, this is just one more reason to add. There is something that stops you, and you won't tell me why."
"I don't know! I don't know why! El, please." His voice trembles.
Her face softens slightly, and she lays a hand on his cheek as he stares at her.
"I think… that you do love me," and Mike nods in earnest, "but, it is not the same way that I love you, have loved you. That is why you can't say it. So, I dump your ass, Mike Wheeler." She says without a sparkle in her eyes, lips pulling at one corner as she remembers the last time she'd uttered the phrase, how it had been so carefree and light, so unlike this time, and her mouth settles back into a frown.
He's left with his own halfway open, but feeling a swell of panic rise in his chest as she goes to leave, he blurts, "did Max do this? Have you guys been conspiring again? Forget anything she said-,"
El interrupts, watching him sadly, "no, Mike. This is my decision."
She left.
Maybe he should head over there anyway, just a lot earlier in the day than he was hoping. Maybe Dustin or Lucas will be there, stop him from train-wrecking another conversation with El by giving him a few pointers.
Yet, he feels anxiety pool in his stomach, a fear that it was too late now. He wishes she didn't sound so, so profoundly serious, like she'd been thinking it and tossing it over in her head for a long time.
Had he really been that bad of a boyfriend? He thought he'd been good. He was affectionate at all the right times, spent every moment trying to talk to her, spend time with her, and when she needed space, he was considerate (might've been confusing, and the start of how everything had gone oh so wrong, but he had tried to not 'loom', as she'd so gently put it).
But it wasn't enough because he wouldn't say it.
He didn't understand why it was so important to her.
"I already feel different,"
It repeats again in his head as he continues to walk.
"This is just one more reason to add."
His face shutters, and he wants to jump in a lake and stop himself from thinking…
"There is something that stops you,"
"I thought that if I pretended, that. That we weren't close anymore, I wouldn't feel-,"
He stops. And the tears start to come, and he takes in a sharp breath of air.
"I don't know! I don't know why! El, please."
But the terrible thing is, deep down, he thinks he does know why.
It's just too frightening of a concept to accept.
Will is sat with Dustin and Lucas by each side of him as Nancy, Jonathan, Steve and Eddie hover in front of them in Hopper's cabin.
Joyce was taking Argyle to Dr. Owens, because he needs to get in touch with his family and figure out a way to stay in Hawkins for longer without getting in all that much trouble.
Argyle had just said, "heh, pops won't care all that much. Don't you worry, Argyle's fine and dandy to stay here in Hawkin'," he'd thrown a thumb up at Jonathan, but Joyce was having none of it. Said if it was one of her boys, she'd be going mad.
Hopper had taken the initiative to drop off Robin because she'd stayed out all night and then never got back to her parents as expected, and apparently they were going to ground her for life. He'd made the offer since he was already going to pick up El and Max, who had slept over at Max's for the night.
El basically had free roam since the talk with Colonel Captain Dipshit, although Hopper was still nervous when he wasn't around to ensure El's fair treatment since the agreement. He'd actually tried to get El to stay instead at the cabin, but she was having none of it, throwing out one of her moods he hadn't witnessed since she was thirteen, and Max had consoled him, measly saying, "it's girl problems, Hop."
He did not know how to feel about the nickname, or the supposed 'girl problems.' He made plans to talk to Joyce, she was a master of situations like these, he thought.
"That reminds me, has anyone called Mike yet?" Says Nancy, and she continues at seeing Jonathan's face that signals disdain, "look, he's going to have to know."
Dustin interjects, "wait, what's happened? Why do I feel like we're in the dark here?"
Will just mutters to him quietly, "we had a fight."
"You and Mike are fighting! God, I hate when you two fight. It's so dramatic, and it becomes my problem." Lucas says after overhearing.
Will just gives him a confused look.
"What? You forgot last summer already? Us being total dickheads to you?" Lucas says with a remorseful sigh, hand reaching up to his neck, "Mike made me come see you to apologise in the pouring rain. Like, I was just going to wait until the morning so you could cool off. He didn't even tell me what he said to you before you left, just that he was an asshole times ten, and he had to go after you right that second. It was freezing! But, I'm glad we did anyway." Lucas shrugs his shoulders, smiling at Will, and Will smiles back, feeling the doubts and cracks he's imagined in his friendships rekindling, even just a little.
"Why is this the first I'm hearing of this?" Dustin says, offended.
"It's 'cause you're attached to Harrington's hip, Dustin." Lucas jokes, eyes sparkling.
"Oh, very funny."
"Guys, shut up." Will says, thinking about Mike's apology last year. It wasn't that extraordinary, not like how Lucas is making it seem, was it?
"Boys!" Steve says, "let's get back to the important topics. Like, have more of those things crawled out?"
Will feels eyes on him, and he looks away feeling a little useless for information now. "I haven't felt anything."
Steve nods.
And then Dustin goes a little quiet, "do you think it's weird that all these Upside-Down monsters, they all have traits similar to the monsters from D&D?"
"Your point?" Nancy responds with a gleam in her eyes, and Eddie starts to look a lot more engaged.
"Demogorgon's, the Mind Flayer, Vecna…" Eddie lists, face seeming pensive.
"Yes! Exactly." Dustin points, and then he stands up.
Will watches him from where he's sat, and then he's startlingly asked a few probing questions.
"Will, you said the thing you fought, it could fly?"
"Yeah?"
"It looked like a fly?"
"Mhm."
"It made a sound, and you were gonna pass out, right?"
"Yes, again."
"Doesn't it sound familiar?"
Will takes a moment to think, cycling through the campaigns and all the reading...
"Chasme…" Will, Lucas, Eddie and Dustin all breathe the name at the same time.
"God, that was freaky," Steve shudders, "what's a Chasme?"
Dustin starts, talking quickly, almost excitedly, "it's a demon, it basically does all the bidding of higher up demons, torturing and interrogating travellers." His eyes light up in thought, "and Will was basically a traveller last night!"
"So, it wanted to, to interrogate me?"
Dustin shrugs his shoulders, "it doesn't make much sense, I know. But the facts are there."
Lucas chimes in, "technically, it's any bidding. Doesn't have to be that it was there to interrogate."
"Yeah, it couldn't really talk anyhow." Will replies wryly.
"It could've just been hungry," Jonathan mentions, and then nudges Nancy right by the side of him, "like when we first faced Demogorgon's. They would come through small gates in the woods and go hunting."
"No, no," Dustin shakes his head, "the whole point is that it's following orders. There's a real reason behind why it searched out Will, why Will sensed it in the first place."
"So, the Mind Flayer wants Will," Steve says matter-of-factly.
"Yep. But what for, kind of don't know."
"Sometimes, sometimes, if it's a campaign where demons are summoned-," Eddie utters, voice becoming energetic, eyes flicking to Will's with intent.
Dustin overlaps Eddie almost word for word as they look at each other and talk, their voices going higher as they do so, "they can be sent into the mortal domain to kidnap victims!"
Then, they hear a knock on the door, and Steve pummels over there like a new-born lamb to open it with a staggered face.
"What's wrong with you?" Mike states, looking warily at Steve who ushers him in.
"Thank God you're here, you're in for quite the shock," Steve says, enunciating each word raspingly, looking quite rattled himself.
And Mike sees his friends scattered around in a circle, eyes zeroing in on Will's stunned expression.
"What the hell did I miss?"