Chapter Text
“Good morning, Hawkins, Indiana! You’re listening to the WSQK 94.5 FM, the Squawk!” The sound of a rubber chicken echoed through the tinny radio. “It's such a relief to be back to normal, right? Now we can get back to being a sleepy town in rural Indiana, and not the topic of national news.”
Mike pedaled down the street, letting Robin talk through the radio duct-taped to his old bike. The endless houses of Hawkins suburbia stretched far into the distance, and Mike turned the corner into the town square.
Eighteen months, and he still found himself here almost every single day. How could he not? He’d been a shitty boyfriend to Eleven, and now she was dead, mostly because of him. His gaze lingered on the Jane Hopper inscribed onto the marble memorial as the rhythmic clanks of bricks being slammed into place echoed through the somewhat busy town square. They were finally rebuilding the library, even after everything.
Well, that was where Mike was planning to spend the rest of today.
You see, Mike Wheeler was supposed to graduate in the early afternoon, and whilst every other one of his friends would be there and wondering when the hell he'd be there, Mike felt chained to this memorial. To Eleven. It was like the entire world had stopped when she’d pulled him into that void, and there was no point in starting it again, because what even was there?
Car engines hummed in the background as the roads were now as busy as they once were, when the town wasn’t split into four and there wasn’t a massive military base right in the middle of it. He kept his eyes on the list of names in front of him, reading one again and again.
Jane Hopper.
Jane Hopper.
Jane Hopper.
Will Byers.
That wasn’t right. Will was at graduation with the others. He shook his head, and continued repeating Jane’s name in his head. Jane. Oh, Eleven. His superhero had fallen and now Mike was trapped miserable in this stupid hick town. Nancy’d dropped out of college and Jonathan was working on some strange, cannibal film about capitalism or some other. Steve was a little league baseball coach. His friends were graduating. For God’s sake, Dustin was valedictorian.
How was everyone coping except for him?
Someone sat next to him on the bench, and Mike turned to see it was Hopper, who’d gotten his job back as Hawkins Chief of Police. Even he was coping better than him.
“Hey kid,” he said. “Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere?”
Mike’s face scrunched up slightly. “I can’t. I- I can’t walk that stage. I have to stay here.”
Hopper sighed, and clasped his hands, placing them on his lap and leaning backwards into the bench. “The way I see it, kid, you’ve got two options. You stay here. In this moment. You stay and the world continues moving on, and you have to navigate being left behind. You keep yourself in a dark cave and don’t dare come out lest you get hurt again.”
Mike averted his eyes. It’s not like he was keeping himself in. He was just in there.
“Or,” Hopper continued. “You slowly move on. You turn with the world. You let the wound heal, and make room for new friends. New family. New memories. You go back to the light.”
“Back to the light,” Mike echoed.
Hopper surprisingly didn't move. “Yeah. Now,” he checked his watch, “you’d best get going. You have a stage to walk.”
Mike nodded slightly. “Thanks Hopper.”
“No problem, Michael.”
Michael? He dismissed whatever trail of thought that was going to lead to, got back on his bike and pedaled back home. His hands found the orange fabric of the graduation gown, slipping it over his shirt. Not like he was taking it off. He fixed his cap and headed back onto his bike, now biking the familiar path to Hawkins High School, where the class of 89 would be waiting for him.
The radio crackled. The Squawk probably wasn’t on — Robin and Steve would be at the graduation. He wouldn’t have been shocked if half the town were there.
It fizzled into static, and as much as Mike fiddled with the dial as much as cycling would allow him to, nothing worked. Something was talking through the radio, but Mike couldn't quite figure out what. Eh, it was an old piece of shit anyways. He turned it off, and continued his journey in silence.
The roads were mostly empty, and as he resisted the smell of malted milkshakes coming from Melvald’s, he turned the corner into Hawkins High. Hawkins High, class of 89 were sat in rows on the grass of the outdoor sports field, parents and siblings filed out onto the bleachers, some with signs. All in all, a regular graduation.
Though there was an empty yellow sign. Strange.
He sat in the back corner near the centre aisle, watching as the principal gave the final few words of his speech, before handing it over to Dustin.
“This thing on?” He tapped the mic a few times, getting a laugh from the crowd. Dustin exhaled, and leaned in to talk.
“I just wanted a normal childhood, but that childhood was stolen from me. It was stolen from us. And this past year, if you want to know the truth, I’ve been pretty pissed off about it.” Principal Higgins frowned and muttered ‘language’, but Dustin continued. lBut then I thought back to the past six years, and I realized that even though there was a lot of bad, there was so much good, too.”
There was a pregnant pause in between, with surprisingly none of the graduates even turning to look at one another. Their eyes, their stances, were all fixed on one person — Dustin Henderson.
“There’s this game I like to play. It’s called Dungeons & Dragons.” Oh, well of course Dustin was going to make a D&D reference in his speech. Mike should’ve seen that one coming, but he smiled anyways. “And in this game, there are two types of chaos classes: chaotic good and chaotic bad. Now, bad chaos brings anarchy, destruction, war. But good chaos can bring innovation, change. And this school, frankly, it needed to change because we were so divided into the jocks, the nerds, freaks.”
Dustin paused again, and looked back out at all the graduates. Funnily enough, they were all sitting in the same pose. Leaned back, arms clasped in front of them. Mike copied what they were doing, maybe just to not look silly. He did come in late, after all.
“And in the chaos, all those walls broke down. And I made new friends. I made friends who were never even supposed to be my friends.” Mike didn’t miss the way Dustin’s gaze lingered on Steve, who gave him an affectionate nod. “And this wasn’t just me. I saw this happen with so many others. And when you get to know people who are different from you, you begin to learn more about yourself. You change, you grow. I’m a better person now. I'm a better person because of them, because of my friends.”
Mike felt a sort of warmth in his chest. It was nice to hear Dustin call him “friend”, even if Mike had been a shitty one recently. He saw Dustin shrug.
“So I’m not pissed off anymore. But I am worried. Worried because now that the chaos is over, Principal Higgins and every square like him is gonna do their damnedest to put everything back in order. And I don’t want order, which is why it’s pretty hypocritical that I’m even wearing this thing. I mean, we look ridiculous. What is this? We look like Roman senators. I mean, it's not who I am. I don’t think it's who any of us are. So, honestly, just screw it.”
Uh oh. Screw it was often followed by something awesome stupid. And that it was — Dustin began tearing at his orange gown, revealing a grey Hellfire Lives shirt underneath. Dustin and his balls of steel. Mike laughed to himself, he could never. He wasn’t brave enough for that.
“Screw the school! Screw the system! Screw conformity! Screw everyone and everything trying to hold you back and tear us apart, because this is our year!” Dustin ended on a cheerful yell, and threw his graduation cap far into the air. The rest of the graduates followed suit, and as the confetti fell, Dustin looked Principal Higgins right in the eye, and flipped him the bird. He jumped down from the stage, running to meet his other friends.
The speakers on every side of the graduation ceremony began to hum in the middle of the celebrations. Hushed voices whispered as Mike felt the eyes of half the town on him, the hairs on his neck beginning to stand on end.
A piercing sound, seemingly only audible to him, judging by the lack of reaction on the part of everybody else, apparently, rung in his ears.
Mike! MIKE!
Mike! Wake up!
MIKE!
He shook his head, and the ringing was gone. Mike ran to meet his friends, completely ignoring whatever just happened.
Hawkins was back to normal.
He was back to normal.