Chapter Text
Will laid out on a couch, sleeping fitfully with Joyce tending to him and Lucas. Erica had been there when they came, rattled herself. She had managed to find her way back after the fighting broke out, missing much of the fray. And luckily any stray bullets.
Despite her usual witty way, she quickly followed what orders Joyce stumbled over as she helped Robin tend to Lucas's cuts. Mike had been right there too, but his fumbling hands were no use. Murray nursed his own head trauma from the crash, reclined on a chair near the radio, glasses askew and bent. There was a tense, panicked energy thrumming between everyone, just waiting for a spark to be lit. Mike wasn't about to be the one to strike the match.
He caught a glimpse of Will laying down after he was ushered away from Lucas. After gathering more supplies for them, getting out of their hair, he stood uselessly.
The anticipation of disaster only continued when there was nothing but static on every radio channel Murray checked, snapping at Mike that he's gone through all of them with a sarcastic comment to match.
He did just that, not glancing at Robin's worried look. The girl always had that frantic nature about her, wringing out wet towels for Joyce. Her eyes felt like daggers in his side. Especially when he stood nearby Will for a moment, letting himself hesitate with his eyes trailing over his sleeping face before scrambling away, a faint flush to his cheeks when he caught Robin's eye.
He stepped outside, away from the tension. As much as he wanted to help his friends, he was as useless as the quiet radio.
It was cold, like Will's fingers between his, chilly but not unpleasant. He slumped onto the steps, head falling back with a small bump against the wall, not caring enough to soothe it.
Nancy hadn't radioed. She, Dustin, Mike and Johnathan were gone. The bits he caught between the others were that they assumed the quad were in the Upside down. Same with El and Hopper. Trapped in that hell with creatures having a brand new goal, one they can't quite piece together without all the team back at the base.
It all hit him at once, the guilt. Where the anger had burned just an hour or so before, there were deep scars left. Tears that were unshed before returned. Once he started, let himself break, it felt like there was no going back.
His mother, unable to speak in the hospital. Her makeup smeared all over her eyes, tear tracks visible. His father, in a similar state, unaware of the loss of Holly. Probably still sleeping with what the doctors gave him. Stitched up to keep them alive.
Hot, unwelcome tears fell onto the fabric of his pants. The drops bloomed as he shuddered.
Nancy was the one who seemed to know exactly what to do at all times- even when she truly didn't. She was probably in that wasteland. He hoped every moment that the sound of a car would come and she'd pour out with the others and Dustin. But there was nothing.
His hands moved to his hair, leaning forward onto his knees that he drew up onto the concrete slab with his body. His body shook as he sobbed, it felt uncomfortable. He hadn't cried like this in so long, breath escaping as he tugged at his own hair, head between his knees as he heaved.
Holly. Oh god, Holly. Will was around her age. She's missing. Her room was torn apart, a gate opened and the struggle continuing all over their house. Blood that stained Nancy's stupid pink sweater. Claws that tore open their parents- probably in front of her before dragging her, just like the creatures did the other children. With Will. Into the hell that was the Upside Down. She must be terrified. Alone. Holly was smart and sensitive, his fingers dig into his own scalp. She didn't deserve this, none of the children did. He heard Lucas's distraught account- they were trapped in the tunnels. The Demogorgans dragged the children through while they begged for help. He knew Lucas had fought with everything. Everything went horribly wrong.
Except for Will- but that's not something he wants to touch on right now.
His head pounded, choking on his own sob as he recalled handing her the figure in the empty hallway of the Elementary School.
Painted to look like her, calling her 'The Heroic' while he lied that there weren't monsters in Hawkins. That there was nothing to be afraid of- he promised. But there was, there always had been. It felt like the claws of that Demogorgan slashed over his throat, the way he couldn't breathe, choking on air. If he told them, would they have been safer? If he actually paid attention to Holly's imaginary friend, would she have been saved from whatever she's going through? Believed her? Told her the truth? Told his poor mother and father? Now look at them, in hospital beds without their three children. One missing, the other hunting, and one, the most useless, is sitting and sobbing.
His face felt wet, eyelashes sticking together and the concrete between his legs soaking up the tears.
Everyone looked rough, but he knew for sure that his skin still felt coated after that Demogorgan roared at him and the water from the pipes, blood he picked up along the way. His head pounding as his black hair ached in his hands, unwilling to let go. As if the curling in on himself with his head between his knees is keeping him together. He felt shattered into pieces and terrified to move or he might fall apart.
He wanted his mother. It reminded him of when he was younger, distraught by Will's disapperence and broke down in his mother's arms. The arms encircling him kept him steady then. Hell, he'd take a hand on the shoulder from his father. They never really hugged.
Anything.
But the most, which made him take pause- is that he wanted Nancy to show up spontaneously. He could throw himself into her arms and cry, like they were children. They used to be so close, but the last handful of years made it difficult. The same girl who dressed up as an Elven princess for their games in the Wheeler's basement was in danger, and there was nothing he could do about it. He wanted Nancy to stumble when he threw himself at her, hesitating before hugging him back. He wanted the comfort of his older sister for the first time in a while.
He shuddered a breath, chancing a shift of his position as he lifted his heavy head.
Nobody was out here, just the cold of Hawkins, Indiana with nothing for Mike Wheeler to do but cry. He was alone. Maybe that's a good thing.