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Mike had been planning to chase the waterfalls for a very long time.
After the events of November 6th, 1987, life returned to an almost begrudging normalcy.
Try as they might, the rag-tag crew of adults, teens, and kids moved on. They forgot.
Mostly because they had to.
The march of time waited for no man.
No man but Mike Wheeler.
Ironically it had taken him over eleven years after graduation to even attempt to find the three falls. Whether held back by life spinning around him—weddings, babyshowers, book publishings, book signings—all things that seemed to fill each and every one of his adult days up to the brim.
First, there was Lucas and Max. They hadn’t waited long after graduation to tie the knot up in the meadow where Dustin had once set up his radio tower that had saved their lives more than once.
Truthfully, Mike had thought Lucas’s mother would have a conniption when Max and Lucas showed up hand-in-hand in order to walk barefoot down the aisle together, but he was sure she gave into the chaos of it all once the skateboard came out at the reception.
They were young and in love and things came easy for them after so much hardship. Lucas went to work at his father’s car dealership in town and Max eventually took over the evening show up at the Squawk where she, as Mad Max, assails everyone's ears five times a week with whatever music she’s come across lately.
In the past couple of years they’d even been joined by a pair of adorable boy-girl twins that Mike felt were far too shy to come from such outgoing parents as Max and Lucas.
Whenever he went over to their house for dinner they hung on his every word when he told them stories about dragons and princesses and the knights who came to save the day.
And for those moments, everything was clear and bright for him again.
Then there was Dustin, who was a rockstar in terms of Hawkins legacy. He’d been discovered early on during his university days and had been offered a transfer to Florida to finish his degree and eventually work for NASA, which he’d been doing for the past couple of years.
He’d always joked about going to space to Mike and the rest of the guys, but now he was literally putting shit up in the sky.
Mike just hoped NASA had a good insurance policy, because whenever he and Dustin spoke on the phone the guy was going off about some cooky experiment or another.
He didn’t come home to Hawkins as much as the others because he was so busy, but he always managed to call Mike.
Mike was sure it was because they were talking about him behind his back and Dustin had been tapped as the ‘check-in with Mike’ brigade, but he’d yet to prove it.
Will also hadn’t moved back to Hawkins after graduating university with a fine arts degree. He hadn’t needed to.
With his mom and Hopp living in Montauk now, he only swung by to visit once in a while. Mike knew he was busy with his illustrating career in New York and had always been meaning to go to visit him more but he could count on both hands the amount of times that had happened.
But Will made it a point to come out to Hawkins at least once a year to see everyone and to stay with Mike and check on him in the apartment he’d rented above what used to be Melvald’s.
It was now a fancy sushi spot and everytime Mike went to his parent’s house for dinner his mom talked about going to try it and his dad complained that he had nowhere to buy screws anymore despite there being a new hardware store right up the street.
They didn’t like change either even though it seemed to surround Hawkins now more than ever.
Holly had gone off to school in Boston, staying in Nancy’s apartment and calling Mike to complain that their older sister never seemed to sleep or keep any food in the fridge. Meanwhile, Nancy called Mike to complain that she had moved to Boston to get away from their mother and now it was like a mini-version of her was living in her apartment with her.
Mike did his best to mediate, but oftentimes it just meant hearing them out until they got tired and made up.
On the flip side, Steve had finally found the girl of his dreams and it turned out she wasn’t from Hawkins at all.
She was a Washington transplant who moved to Hawkins with a boyfriend before they promptly broke up and was crying her eyes out at a bar… cue Steve-the-hair-Harrington and the rest was history.
They were on their third nugget already and Steve had a wallet full of polaroids he was ready to show Mike whenever they ran into each other in town.
He’d seen Steve and his gang of children last week loading up into the camper, probably ready to drive down south to visit (read: bother) Dustin and go for a Florida vacation for Christmas vacation.
And then, finally, there was Jonathan. Surprisingly, Mike talked to him the most.
A few years back, one of Mike’s novels had been optioned for a film and the director chosen for it? None other than Jonathan Byers.
He had moved from New York City to Los Angeles, back to the land of Purple Palm Tree Delight and opportunity and had made a name for himself.
The reception for the movie had been good and they’d even gotten offers to turn a different book into a series, so at least things were good on that front.
Things were good on most fronts.
Which was why Mike felt like it was finally time.
Over the past eleven years Mike had traveled all over the world in his free time. Partly to see it, and partly to do one very specific thing:
To throw the CIA, the FBI, the government, or whoever might be watching him off of his scent.
Sometimes he went alone, sometimes with one of the guys, hell, he’d even gone with his family on a few trips.
He’d hellwalked up the Scottish highlands, sat at the foot of the Parthenon, dug hit feet into the sand on a Thai beach, eaten ramen in Japan, gone from one end of the earth to the other in his effort to make those who might be watching him think that him traveling was normal behavior.
Then, as time went on and the events of that night faded, Mike’s worry of being watched faded too. War, famine, riots, epidemics and more rocked the United States and the world over the course of the nineties, and somehow he was sure that whoever had been watching Hawkins so closely, wasn’t anymore.
But it wasn’t until it was almost New Years eve of 1999 when the planet was panicking about Y2K and the end of the world when the clock struck midnight that Mike finally decided it was time.
He’d been doing his research for years, looking for all of the places where three waterfalls meet—which was easier said than done. The Hawkins library had left much to the imagination when it came to geographical research, so he’d driven into the nearest city to look there and was able to use the computers that Hawkins hadn’t purchased yet.
After that, it was time to plan.
He had been taking money out of his bank account for years, squirreling away the cash and creating a nest egg that would support him in whatever quest he found himself on. That part would, at the very least, be covered.
His final manuscript was sent off to his editor with instructions to make sure all payments were to still be made to his account. He made sure his mother had access to it, even if she didn’t know it yet.
Mike then used the last bit of contact that he had to create new travel documents for himself. New passports, IDs, social security cards, anything he might need if his theory was correct.
And he really hoped it was correct.
Christmas passed normally with his family. He enjoyed being surrounded by everyone and tried to soak in every last moment with his parents and sisters. He dropped by Dustin’s house, giving his mother a gift and a letter for him, and then he stopped by Max and Lucas’s.
The kids were already overstimulated from a day of playing with their toys and were half-asleep on the couch with their brand new in-line roller skate still strapped to their feet.
Mike grinned as he handed their gifts to their mother, but said nothing of his plans as he handed both Max and Lucas their own gifts with a letter, telling them not to open it until later.
The last thing he did in Hawkins before leaving was to sit in town square, right where it had happened. Where the plaque remembering the people who died during Vecna’s reign of terror still sat and the completely fixed wall where he’d watched her disappear still stood with completely fresh bricks.
His breath hung in the crisp Indiana air as he stared up at it, closing his eyes and remembering it like it was yesterday.
The flash of her face as the Upside Down exploded around her, the wristband still on her wrist despite a matching one being on Hopp’s wrist, the lack of blood on her nose.
Mike had to be right about his theory…
Steeling himself, he walked over to the nearby mailbox and dropped the rest of his letters in before digging his hands into the pockets of his coat and heading for his car. He has a long flight ahead of him.
Within a few days, all of the people that Mike loved received a letter in the mail or they opened the letter that came with their presents.
There, written on lined paper in his still-haphazard, chicken scratch handwriting, were the words:
“I BELIEVE.”
None of them ever saw Mike Wheeler ever again, and somehow, that made them happy. Because that meant his theory had been correct.
Elsewhere, high up on a cliff, in a country that he dared not even think the name of, Mike stared at the three waterfalls as they cascaded down onto the ocean below.
The roar of them was almost deafening and Mike had to fight to keep from covering his ears with his gloved hands as he stared out at the dark landscape.
Apparently, during this time of the year, it was dark for much of the day. The locals in the city that he’d visited before renting a car to drive out to the falls had told him that they usually only got about four to five hours a day during the winter, but that it made it perfect for catching the lights.
And they had been right.
Above Mike’s head, the Northern Lights glittered blue and green, as if guiding his way across the expanse to the tiny little village the lay on the other side, their windows lit up yellow and their chimneys puffing with smoke.
A sudden feeling of indecision filled Mike as he stared at it, shivering in the snow.
Was she there?
Doubt crept into the edges of his mind for a moment. Had all of it been just a coping mechanism? Just some way for him to try and deal with her death and to move on?
But he hadn’t moved on. He had been stuck in the same place for eleven years, holding onto the same theory for dear life. Living under the premise that she was here and she was safe and she was happy.
Mike was a storyteller and Will had once told him that all of his stories held a certain power. That every story he had ever told had come true, as if by magic.
There were so many times during the three years that they had fought against the Mind Flayer and Vecna that things seemed impossible—like there was no way that they could ever work out.
But Mike had believed. He’d believed in his party, in Will, Dustin, Lucas, Max, Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Erica, Hopp, and Joyce.
He’d believed in Eleven, knowing she was the most powerful force on the planet.
As he thought about that, something unlocked in his mind and he was back in the memory of his last conversation with her. It ran through much of the same way it had before.
Then he should have been yanked out of her mind and back into his own, but instead she leaned forward and whispered something into his ear.
Mike took one step forward, his boot crunching in the fresh snow.
She had concealed that memory from him until this moment. Until that realization.
His steps started moving faster as he rounded the waterfalls and crossed the metal bridges that led to the entrance of the village.
There had to be at least fifty little houses, but Mike ignored all of them.
Somehow, instinctually, he knew which house he was looking for.
Then he found it, at the end.
It was a small purple house with a low roof that had a light layer of snow on top of it and there, painted on the door, was the number eleven.
Mike’s hands were shaking as he crunched up the walkway and lifted a fist.
But he didn’t need to knock because the door was already opening.
She wore an older face now, something he’d never taken the time to imagine in the eleven years since graduation. It made sense, he’d grown older too, filling out his gangly limbs and sharply angled face.
Her face was rounder now, the stress that always seemed to be etched there gone as she stared at him with knowing brown eyes.
Her hair was also longer than he’d ever seen it, plaited in one long braid that spilled over one shoulder.
Mike stared at her, his mouth hanging open and suddenly completely dry.
He’d rehearsed everything he could have possibly said in this moment to her, telling her he loved her, telling her he missed her, apologizing for not coming to find her sooner, yelling at her for leaving him alone like that.
But nothing came out.
Instead, she spoke first, her lips pulling into a smile.
“Hello, Mike, I’ve been waiting for you for a long time. Do you want to come inside?”
Mike nodded and stepped over the threshold.
The purple door closed behind him.