Chapter Text
“Mike! You made it!” An eager Holly jumps into Mike Wheeler’s arms, holding him tight.
“Of course I did. You know I always find a way.” He replies. When they separate, Holly’s face displays a doubtful look; the Wheelers are very bad at emotions. She doesn’t say whatever had seemed to be bothering her, and just sprints to the living room.
Mike was surprised to see his house look the same after 8 and a half long years. It only missed one key part: his father.
Ted passed away from a heart attack in 1992. His funeral was the last time the Wheeler’s saw Mike. Though Mr. Wheeler’s death wasn’t the cause of his hiatus… only Mike knew why he disappeared, and he never intended to share it with another soul.
“Mom!” Mike walks to his mother urgently, pulling her into a loving embrace. From across the room, Nancy stands, placing herself behind Karen: next in line.
Nancy is a CEO at a writing firm in Boston, yet she managed to visit Hawkins more often than her brother who lived less than an hour's drive away.
There’s a boy across the room, an old friend of Holly; Josh, was it?
He gives a friendly nod to Mike and smiles at Holly. Mike is pretty oblivious when it comes to romance, but he can tell that this is more than a friendly smile, and from Holly’s reaction, it’s a mutual feeling.
This warms Mike, but he feels behind. He’s never been in a healthy romantic relationship, and it seems to everyone around him that like his sister, Nancy, he doesn’t want to be in one.
It’s new years eve, and Mike hasn’t felt more in-spirit in years. Which says something, considering he doesn’t feel much at all these days.
His long, black curls flow to his shoulders, just how they had in ‘86. Though he had one grey streak in the front-left of his hair. Nancy had this too, and looking at old photos of Ted, they see where the early-greying comes from. Mike’s face is still the same, just more lifeless. He’s aging much faster than other 26-year-olds. His thick, round glasses sit well on his face, matching the thin silver chains he wears around his neck. From a far, he looks the same as he did on graduation, but close up, you can tell he’s stressed, hiding and pushing down everything he’s ever wanted and cared about.
Mike settles in between his mother and older sister on the couch, Holly laying on the floor in front of his feet. She’s almost as tall as Mike now! She resembles him more than Nancy, and Karen seems to be unsettled at that, reminding her of her son, a lost soul, always searching for the wrong things.
The T.V. isn’t as loud as the ladies' laughter at each punchline, but it’s nearly a tie.
Holly and Josh smell like the basement. Mike’s basement. A lost land, now foreign to him, catering to a whole new party. Heroic Holly, Generous Josh, Meditative Mary, and of course, Delightful Derek.
Mike can’t help but just stare out the window, looking at the pile of bikes outside in the yard. Max’s old bike, gifted to Holly, and Lucas’s old bike, gifted to Josh. History repeats itself.
Miss Wheeler and Ms. Wheeler hustles around in the kitchen while the boys and Holly wait at the table. The yellow tablecloth is stained and torn; the same way it’s been since Mike was a kid. He traces a syrup stain with his fingers.
Although he knows this is probably from his very messy syrup covered eggs, part of him still tries to deny this, pretending it was El’s Eggo’s that caused this.
El.
Nancy places the blue plates in front of each seat at the table, some of them chipped, revealing the white innards. The clashing colors distract Mike. He’s always been unsure of blue and yellow together.
The plates get filled with ham and potatoes, peas and carrots sprinkled along the edge. The layout is chaotic, but Mike always liked that better than organized.
The family shares their resolutions and makes their wishes. They make homely background noise for Mike to sulk, as he always does. That is until Holly catches his attention.
“You know Max is moving back with Lucas next year?” She plays with the food on her plate, and before Nancy can reply, Mike cuts in awkwardly.
“Why?” He sounds more urgent than he had planned to, but it works out in his favor.
“Because they just got engaged, duh. They want to settle down up here, Cali’s just too crowded for them.” Holly replies, taking a good look at Mike’s face, watching his lips purse.
His eyes widen, and he drops his fork, “Married? Married!” He repeats himself, “And when were you guys gonna tell me?!”
“When were you going to listen?” Nancy comments before taking a bite of ham. Karen elbows her softly in the side. All she wants is for her son to speak again, and she plans to savor it.
Holly ignores them and continues chatting up Mike, “Yeah, same neighborhood as Coach Harrington. Which conveniently is the same neighborhood as Henderson.”
It was alarming hearing his little sister talk about his friends like this. Dustin, Steve, Max, Lucas, all that Mike has been trying to push down feel like bile piling in his throat.
“Steve?” Mike looks up at Nancy, “Dustin?” He turns to his mom, “Max and Lucas?” Finally to Holly.
“Sure,” Holly says, “The Hoppers are only a few miles away-” There's a thud, and Holly shuts her mouth. Nancy had kicked her foot under the table.
“Joyce,” Mike laughs out. It’s like the world stops in its tracks. He sees Will and himself in Joyce's car, playing with action figures. He gasps, and his joy quickly turns to a frown.
“Friends? No way. Best friends.”
He goes back to his sorrowed look and stares at his half-eaten food.
The night continues, and the Wheelers watch the ball drop on T.V. Josh and Holly share a kiss, and Nancy and Karen share a bottle of champagne.
And Mike sits in the middle of the madness, alone. As always.
All of the Wheeler children are storytellers. Nancy, with her newspapers and websites. Holly, with her poems and children's stories. And Mike, with his novels.
Though he misses it. Writing for fun. He does it without passion now. He’s so isolated in his own small apartment that he has no muse, no inspiration. Being in his old house brings that all up, all of his past muses and inspiration.
He settled in the basement for the night, as his old bedroom had been converted to the computer room. All of the new technology is exciting to Mrs. Wheeler, and she’s known to get ahead of herself.
Will's drawings still line the walls and it makes Mike shudder.
“Zombie boy.” Mike whispers to himself, lightly caressing the drawing. He sits on the couch and watches the memories all play out in front of him.
But none of it is real.
And he knows that.
He swears he can see El sitting under the table, her head shaved, and her body small. But even in this memory, he still haunts the narrative. She flips through channels on the walkie, trying to find him.
He shakes the context away and closes his eyes, focusing on the thought of Eleven. He thinks of every way possible that in another life he could find her. That he could be normal, and live a normal life. She mustn't be hiding to this day. It’s been almost a decade, and everything monster-related has ended. She can be with the waterfalls, just as Mike had promised her.
But the bile is back in Mike’s throat. He knows he doesn’t want this, but he still believes he needs it.
That’s when it hits him.
The man, the myth, the legend,
Dustin Henderson.
He’s always been advanced with computers, what's stopping him from tracking down El? Obviously it’d be hard, but when has that ever stopped Dustin? For god’s sake, he built a radio tower to reach Salt Lake City when he was 13!
Mike opens his eyes and pulls out his handheld motorola, typing in the Hendersons house phone number: he still knows it by heart.
But he pauses.
He sets his phone down and looks at the cat clock on the wall. Mike doesn’t keep clocks in his house, and he’s surprisingly rusty at reading them. But, he gets to the fact it's nearly one in the morning soon enough. He laughs at himself. He hasn’t acted this much like his mother in years.
He takes off his glasses and sets them down on the coffee table in front of him, then he lies down, having to bend his knees to fit his long body on the couch.
The light is already dim enough for him to close his eyes to sleep, but he can’t help but replay his memories over and over.
Their memories.
“Crazy together, right?”
“Crazy together.”
He knows it's wrong, for him at least. It’s not right. He loves El. Whether he can say it or not.
He wants to love El. He doesn't want to love him.