Chapter Text
"I love you, Mike......" Eleven pushed him back on the collapsing bridge away from her. His hand reaching, hers already letting go. The air thickened, pressing in from all sides, turning the world into a suffocating cage.
Before he could understand a darkness that was not empty, but infinite; an absence so vast it swallowed every hope, every memory of her. He searched it, longing for even the slightest trace, but found only hollow nothingness stretching endlessly.
"Mike, it's 9 am." A voice rang through the vacuum, waking him with a jolt. He lies there with his head against the headrest, breathing hard, knowing this isn't a nightmare. It's a memory that refuses to sleep.
It has been six months since that fateful day, and Hawkins has almost gone back to normal, as if nothing ever happened here in the first place. The whole town smelled like fresh paint and petroleum; the military had left, leaving no trace behind.
The Starcourt mall reopened with all the glory, with new movies playing every Friday night as if nothing had ever gone wrong. Hawkins decided the worst was over, and that decision became fact.
The forest around the Hawkins stayed the same, Dark and mysterious, but now held the echoes of fights, screams, and sacrifice.
Parents of Hawkins went back from being scared of their kids' safety to worrying about their grades and extracurricular activities.
Dustin was the first one to take a step forward. He loved Eddie, but self-sabotage was not how he would honor his sacrifice. Eddie stayed with him in his heart, on his hand as a tattoo, and as the official head of the Hellfire Club, which not only organized DnD campaigns but also became a shelter for nerds and outcasts with freaky interests.
Max started laughing out loud more, sometimes for the things that barely deserved it. Because she was fearless, as if she was questioning and challenging the universe to take that back from her again.
Lucas turned quieter than before, careful, deliberate, and calculated. But he also started smiling more than before, because he chose to for max. Therapy was helping him find a safe place to process his emotions.
Lucas and Max were back to normal, for the first time since their relationship started. They were enjoying casual sneaking out past curfews and a little lovey dates here and there amongst their busy schedules.
Joyce went back to the Byers and was focused on the routine again. Hopper was offered back his position, and He rebuilt walls, repaired fences, and patrolled the streets in a rhythm that kept his grief in check. Beneath the tough exterior, he carried the weight of what had been lost, the unspoken absence of what he couldn't fix.
Will went back to painting, finding ways to bend, adapt, and survive. He found a form to channelize his inner thoughts and emotions.
Mike secretly resented them for having it easy, but he also knew the memories were the very reason he is very much alive today. Everyone else's behavior around Mike also shifted drastically; every word became cautious, every step calculated. He walked through the town like a shadow, learning to smile and breathe again, while he remained unfazed by any change.
The city was glowingly peaceful and moving forward, but he was still standing there, trapped in a moment that the whole town had left behind.
"Good morning, Mom," Holly was the first person to break the silence at the breakfast table. Karen smiled at her and passed on her toast, "So, how are your classes going?" She asked Holly, eyeing Mike, if there was any response. He was busy drinking the second cup of his coffee. "Mikey, should I get you your scrambled eggs?" She asked, hoping he would say something. He nodded negatively and chugged down the entire coffee and left the table without uttering another word.
Though Holly was going on about some art project in her class, Karen's thoughts were elsewhere, on her son, who was very much physically present but had formed a weird distance with everyone he once called his closest.
***
"Good morning," Dustin greeted as Mike entered the coffeehouse. "Hey, man," Steve greeted from the other side of the counter. Mike nodded and went ahead and slumped over on one of the empty tables.
"He is like a ghost, just wanders around with no thought on his brain these days." Dustin looked at Mike who is moving in the coffeehouse like a shadow not noticing anything around him and Steve looked at him back and nodded like he understood what he meant "And he doesn't even do the customary Boo," Dustin said, sighing softly and moving towards the table.
"Steve, can I have a coffee?" Mike asked, looking up from his book, "Only if you confirm to me you didn't have one this morning?" Steve said, looking at him straight in his eye, half-smirking, half-serious. "Does that matter?" Mike rolled his eyes, started to get irritated, and fidgeted with the pen in his hand. "Well, for me it does." Steve answered before Mike came up with any new reason.
"Because you skip breakfast, replace it with caffeine, and then wonder why the world feels like too much." Steve looked more. "Eat something, that is the only way you get coffee here." He said while placing a plate of pancakes on the counter. Mike didn't look at the food. "Even without the caffeine," he said quietly, "the feeling doesn't change."
Mike hated Steve; he resented him not because he was charismatic and all his friends loved him, but because he cared for him. When everyone steps back or leaves Mike, giving him space to process things on his own. Steve is here telling the truth; he didn't want to accept it, and he's seeing things and paying attention to him and his ways. Mike isn't ready to accept.
"You have to stop babysitting," Mike said as he took a bite of pancake. Dustin looked at him and chuckled, mouthing a thank-you to Steve. He knew it was surrender, not hunger.
"Well, he only babysits you," Max chuckled as she entered the place and parked her skateboard. "The rest of us just hang out with him." "How was your test?" Dustin asked Max as she took a chair opposite them. "Well, not bad," She sighed, defeated, and rested her head on the table. "But I definitely need to score my best in the project to get a decent grade."
Max lifted her head and turned toward Mike, who was staring at his pancake as if it held all the answers to life. "Well, Wheeler," she said with a smirk, "if staring at your breakfast counts as studying, then voila, you're the Valedictorian." Dustin and Steve couldn't help but giggle, but Mike stood up silently, slung his bag over his shoulder, and walked toward the door without a courtesy goodbye.
"He's turned into an even bigger weirdo after that day," Max said, watching him move like a zombie, shoulders slouched, head tilted straight ahead but seemingly not seeing anything in particular. "It's almost like he was back when I first met him," Max added, shaking her head with a faint smile, "but way worse."
"He at least used to smile a few times back then, hoping she would return someday. He was a hopeful 12-year-old back then; now he is just a lost cause." Dustin said quietly, recalling fleeting moments of the boy they all once knew, moments now weighed down by absence and memory.