Work Text:
Mike had no idea for how long he’d been down here, sitting in the dark of the basement and just silently staring at the phone. He felt his eyes burn from dryness when he finally blinked.
The house had fallen silent hours ago. After all, everyone had things to do in the morning. Everyone except Mike. Graduating school wasn’t as awesome as he imagined when he’d still been a kid. But then again, nothing really was as awesome as he had imagined when he’d still been a kid.
Back then things had been more simple. School sucked. Hanging out with his friends did not. Now that he didn’t have to go to school anymore he had no idea what to do with his day and hanging out with his friends was out of the picture since everyone was leaving.
Everyone was leaving.
Will was, too. Tomorrow.
For College… Art Design. How awesome was that?
Will had been so excited when he had told Mike about getting accepted and Mike was totally happy for him. He really was. He was.
But there was also this ugly feeling inside his chest at the thought of Will leaving. A kind of pressure… or tightness? Mike had no fucking idea. He never had when it came to this. To feelings.
He didn’t even know what he was feeling right now, staring at that stupid phone across the room. His chest and stomach felt full of this agonizing energy, bouncing up and down through his body. His heart was beating painfully, like it was about to burst any time now, but then at the same time he felt … hollow.
Empty aside of this overwhelming sickness that had taken hold of him that fateful day. The day they lost El.
El…
Her end wasn’t fair. She had saved them all - saved the whole god damn world for fuck’s sake - and still she wasn’t granted a happy ending.
Her voice still haunted him day and night. “You don’t get to write the ending.”
Yeah…nonetheless Mike had tried. Tried to convince himself and the others that somehow she had made it out, that somehow she was alive and well and finally free. Free to go where ever she pleased, to do and not do whatever the fuck she wanted.
Only that Mike had no idea what she wanted.
The pressure inside his chest grew, his stomach cramping. Mike liked to tell himself that he knew El better than anyone, that he had written her a good ending, one that she would love.
The truth was, he had no idea what El was even thinking most of the time. Not when they were dating, not later when they were … whatever.
Maybe he did understand her when they first met. When all she needed and wanted was a friend, someone to trust. Mike had liked taking care of her, liked the way it made him feel … useful.
He exhaled sharply, pulling his knees to his chest and burying his hands in his hair as he felt the spiral coming on. He’d ended up at this exact point about a million times already. Only one step away from realizing how empty and shallow their relationship had actually been. How he had always cared for El - deeply so - but never the way that she had wanted him to. How he’d still held onto her, clawed himself into her to not lose this feeling that she had once given him. How selfish he had been and still was to this day for holding on to this idea of her.
Mike knew all of this deep down and there were moments like this when he could admit things to himself. Moments when he was alone, in the dark where nobody could see him.
“You understand me better than anyone. You always have.”
This fantasy of their last conversation that he’d made up in his head. Lies. Just a story he told himself to feel better about it all, to pretend that in the end El did love him and he loved her. That they still had this connection.
“I need you.”
That she still needed him the way he needed her.
But as he sat here, on the old couch in the dark silence of the basement, Mike knew. He knew it was a lie. In the end El didn’t need him, at least not the way he wanted her to. The connection they once shared was broken a long time ago and it was all his fault. His fault for clinging to her, for wanting her to stay the scared girl he had found in the woods. His fault for lying to her, trying to make her believe that he did love her the way El so desperately wanted him to.
El’s end wasn’t fair and now Mike had no chance of making things up to her. To apologize and explain…
Explain what exactly? Why he had treated her the way he did? Why all of their problems had been about him and not her? Why he could never love her the way she wanted him to - never even admit to her that her suspicions were valid?
He looked up at the phone again, just hanging there silently, mockingly, and his eyes burned again. Only this time it was the tears.
Will was leaving tomorrow and Mike’s realization came too late. Too late for El. Too late for himself.
The worst he could do now was shackle another friend to himself. To make Will as miserable as he made El.
So instead of accepting the truth and dialing Will’s number, he let himself fall on the couch and rolled over, turning his back on that stupid phone. His chest and stomach in a knot, Mike swallowed against the tears. He felt sick, like his whole body was crawling with infection.
It felt like dying.
He hated the strangled noises he made, he hated how his eyes kept pooling. Not calling Will felt wrong. It felt like the most horrible mistake, like with simply lying here and doing nothing Mike was throwing his whole life away.
But it was for the best. Or at least that's what he kept chanting over and over inside his head.
Maybe Mike was brave enough to admit the truth to himself when he was down here, alone, when he didn’t have to look in the mirror and confront his true self in daylight. But eventually night would pass and life would go on and Mike would still be miserable. A liar. A coward.
His heart was pumping up to his throat now, fear creeping in. Fear that he might feel this way forever. That he would never find the strength to free himself. That he would never be brave enough to tell that one story he couldn't share yet. That maybe it was already too late for that.
He wasn’t brave like Will and he wasn’t good like El.
He was just Mike. Mike Wheeler who didn’t deserve either of them.
So he didn’t call and he didn’t admit to his deep, dark truth. Morning came and life went on.
He was still Mike the Coward and he watched Will leave. And now that the sun was shining again he could pretend that the boy wasn't actually taking Mike’s freedom with him. His one chance of breaking the cycle.
Will left Hawkins and he the past behind. He left Mike behind.
And it was for the best. He knew it was for the best.
Mike had always been good at lying to himself.