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The back of his heel barely hits the floor before it comes back up, his leg shaking. His teeth are buried in his bottom lip as his pencil moves on the paper. He's trying not to think about it. Which means it's not working, and he can't stop thinking about what he's going to do. It's not like he can keep this kid, he's fifteen.
The pencil stops.
God, only fifteen? he thinks dazedly, I have to be older than that.
It's still 1986. Fifteen years after 1971.
It feels like trauma has aged him, pushed his small brain into a bigger body and forced it to compensate, only to put him back. He's stuck trying to be bigger than he is with a life he'd left behind.
Mike pushes a breath out of his mouth, putting the pencil down and pushing away from his desk and unfinished homework to look down at himself. He doesn't look any different, not yet, but if he doesn't do anything, then his body will change and eventually it'll be obvious what happened.
He'd taken his eyes off for a second.
A life-ruining second.
His vision clouds slowly with tears as he buries his face in his hands. God, he's a fucking mess. He can feel how his body shifts and moves, muscles tense. He sniffs.
"Fuck..." he mutters, soft but anguished. He pulls his hands away, squeezing them into fists. "Fuck," he says, just a little louder. "What the hell am I going to do?" he whispers into empty air like it could answer him. Like it could make anything better at all. The words themselves are brittle, shaky, like any pressure would make the form of them fall apart.
Taking in a shuddering breath, he closes his eyes.
Maybe, for once, he should tell someone. He should talk, but he has no idea how or who or where- His mom was out, no question. Nancy would start a manhunt herself, and his father probably wouldn't spare a single glance. Lucas and Dustin wouldn't get it, and Will, Mike didn't want to burden him any more than he had. They'd only just gotten back to their best. Jonathan and Steve and Robin, while close, he couldn't do it. Eddie is still in his first week home, out of the hospital. Joyce... he felt so much fear for her knowing. Hopper was the same.
That left El and Max.
Despite being friends with the redhead, Mike can't bring this to her.
He swallows, a plan forming slowly in his head. He'd talk to El. Tomorrow. Ask to sleep over and sneak into her room after everyone else goes to bed. Yeah. Okay.
Everything will be okay.