Chapter Text
Dinners at the Wheeler household were always . . . Awkward, to say the least.
With Ted often making casual, but rude, comments on some minority and Mike and Nancy trying not to snap back at him. Nancy was better at holding herself back, plus, she at least had the security of knowing that Ted wouldn’t hurt her since she was a girl. She always found that his view on women was utter bullshit, but since he didn’t hurt her because of it, she didn’t complain to him.
She knew that Ted had no such reservations towards Mike, though she probably thought that physical violence towards Mike from Ted had only occurred a few times, which wasn’t very true.
Anyways, back to the dinner. It was suffocatingly tense and quiet, especially since Nancy was currently away, visiting colleges, she already knew which one she wanted to go to, Emerson, but she found it fun to visit other colleges for some reason, probably something to do with journalism.
“Did you add something different to the meatloaf? I noticed that it’s a bit different.”
As such, Mike had to take over complimenting his mom’s meals. Not that they weren’t good, it was just that comments like that were needed to keep the peace between everyone.
“Thank you for noticing Micheal, and I did, I added a different seasoning today, did you like it?” That was a trick question, it didn’t actually matter whether he liked it or not, he had to say something to please his mom. It was good, but he couldn’t give his fully honest opinions.
“It turned out good, I really like it.” He made sure to keep a smile on his face as he said, it may not have been real, but it sure looked like it.
Everyone in this family knew how to look perfect.
As annoying as Mike found it, it was the closest thing they had to a family tradition, so he still complied, and was still good at it, even though he’d started taking after Eddie.
His father was the only exception to this ‘family tradition’, but he still knew how to make their entire life look perfect. As much as he was monotone in his tone, and detached from his family, he still kept up the appearance of the man of the house, a good father (mostly to Holly) and a good husband.
He was anything but a good father to Mike, he was an absent father to Nancy at best, and an even more absent husband.
So of course, it was only a matter of time before he said something wildly inappropriate and out of pocket.
“So, Micheal, are you planning on cutting your hair soon? You’re looking that freak, Munson, and isn’t he a faggot too?”
His father took a sip from his glass of water before taking a slice out of his food. He didn’t pay mind to how Mike tensed up at the table, trying to control his breathing and keep quiet. Thankfully, his mother stepped in, somewhat.
“Ted! Watch what you say around Holly, she doesn’t need to know about all those things.” His mother seemed a bit annoyed at Ted, this was normal, especially when he’d say anything about Queer people. She just didn’t want Holly repeating it, or to get a call from Holly’s school about it. She didn’t actually care too much about him saying slurs or anything of the sort.
“Holly sweetheart, it’s time for bed.”
She picked up the young girl, who almost said something against it, but when Karen looked at her sternly, decided to keep quiet.
She always did this, when Ted would get annoyed about something Mike was doing, she’d take Holly out of the room and put her to bed. She’d play Holly some soft music on the recorder and read a book, to avoid the yelling, to avoid the reality of what Ted did to their son.
And with that, Ted looked at Mike.
“I’ve told you time and time again that if you keep your hair long people are going to think you’re a queer.” Ted’s passive-aggressive comments were the norm, but Mike always got riled up despite that.
“A lot of guys have long hair, Dad.” He tried to keep calm, but by God was it difficult. Mike already knew the routine, he’d try to keep calm as Ted kept making those comments, Mike would snap, Ted would either raise his voice, and on the relatively rare occasion, beat Mike. It happened at least once a month, more than Mike would’ve liked, but better than it could’ve been.
“I’ll never understand why you still hang around that Munson boy, he brings nothing but trouble. You know, your peers might get the wrong idea if they see you hanging around that Satanist.”
“Eddie isn’t a Satanist, and what do you care about how people at school treat me, you know I’ve been bullied my entire life.”
Mike spoke harshly; he could usually take it when comments were directed at him but got more annoyed when Ted targeted Eddie. Now, Mike wouldn’t admit it easily, but he had a slight crush on Eddie, more like admiration really, a celebrity crush if you will.
It often seemed like Ted purposefully tried to push his buttons, that was likely. He hated giving him the satisfaction, but it was so difficult to not snap at him.
“Watch your tone young man. Your image reflects on this family, you know that. I can handle you liking your stupid games and comics instead of sports, like real men, but I draw the line at you trying to be a fag.”
Mike actually flinched at his father’s harsh words. This wasn’t about his hair anymore, it was about every aspect of his life.
“I’m not trying to be a faggot, Dad! I just like my hair like this!”
Fuck.
“I’m fairly certain that I just told you to watch your tone, Micheal.”
His father got up, he didn’t yell, that’s how Mike knew that this was going to be one of those days.
Mike got up too, pushing his chair in, his food half finished. He tried to leave the room, but his father’s heavy hand gripped his shoulder. That’d probably bruise later.
While Mike was tall, but his father was taller, by 2 inches, but still, he used that to intimidate Mike, to tower over him.
His father grabbed him by the hair, dragging him back to the dining before throwing him against a wall, he yelped, mostly in shock, partially in pain. Ted made sure that he didn’t hit the wall too harshly, not because he cared for Mike’s well-being, but because a dent in the wall would be annoying to fix.
He stumbled a bit but regained his footing. He apparently got up just in time to get backhanded by his father and fall back to the ground, his head hitting against the wall again with a small whimper of pain, he didn’t want to be loud and bother Holly. It didn’t dent the wall or stain it, but his head hurt a lot, and his father’s wedding ring left a thin and shallow cut on the side of his face.
Ted grabbed Mike by the hair again, and Mike covered his mouth with his hand, biting down on his tongue a bit too hard, if the taste of iron was anything to go by. He yanked him back to his seat at the dinner table and looked down at him. Mike tried not to make a sound, but he was scared.
“Don’t disrespect me again, boy, now finish the food your mother made for you and then go up to your room, if I come back and see a slice of meatloaf on this plate you are grounded.”
With that, he walked off to the living room, probably to go kick back on his Lay-Z-Boy, so that Mike was still partially in his view.
Mike forced himself up onto the chair, his hair now tangled, the waves frazzled, thankfully his hair was straightened, so it would be a bit easier to detangle. He sat down stiffly on his chair, finishing his dinner. He was shaking while he ate, and his vision was a bit blurred, as he tried not to cry, his father would only get angrier at that.
He could feel a trickle of a warm liquid down his neck, most likely blood, getting pulled around by the hair does that to you. The shallow cut on his side of his face had stopped bleeding, but he could still feel the blood dripping down his cheek, probably staining his sweater but he just focused on finishing his dinner.
He got up after finishing his food, feeling sick to his stomach. He went up to his room, he felt dizzy as he did so, holding onto anything that would help him keep his balance, the banister, the wall, the doorknobs. When he did reach his room, he quietly closed the door, locking it, it took a bit of effort because his hands were shaking so badly.
When he got a moment alone, he broke down crying. He was quiet, the only indication that he was crying were his shaking shoulders and the tears streaming down his cheek, mixing with the still fresh blood from the cut on the side of his face.
He pushed himself against his door, his back to the wood. He needed to calm down, he needed to leave, he had to.
He didn’t know how long he had spent there, just breaking down, but oh well, details.
It was April, so the weather was pretty good, the temperatures were bearable, not cold, but not warm either. Now, he was dizzy, with a head wound, and crying so much that he could barely see, but he needed to leave this house.
He opened his window, stepping out onto the roof and quietly going to the pipe drain at the side of the house, climbing down it, just like he’d seen Steve use to go up into Nancy’s room in November of 1983. He’d been well-versed on how to sneak out since he was barely 9 years old, so this took some slight effort, only because he couldn’t quite see straight.
He made his way to his bike, which was in the open garage. Getting on it, he started to ride to the Byers’, he didn’t really think about where he was going, it was just instinct to go to Will’s house, even though he hadn’t shown up there with injuries in about 2 years. Didn’t Hopper spend some time there now too? He could only hope the former Chief of Police wouldn’t be there.
It was one of the colder nights in Hawkins, windy too, and he was out here with just a t-shirt, sweater, and jeans, he certainly wasn’t freezing, but he definitely could’ve been warmer.
He couldn’t see properly, with his tears still flowing, and a still-bleeding head wound, he got dizzy quickly and could barely ride his bike in a straight line, that was a recipe for disaster.
That being said, it was inevitable that he would fall off his bike onto the side of the road, like he did now. That led to a rip in his jeans, and a scrape on his knee and palm, they weren’t bleeding much, just hurt like hell, he ignored it. He just pushed himself up, off the ground, his uninjured hand holding most of his weight, while he wiped tears with his other hand.
He stubbornly got up, pulling his bike back up and walking down the road to the Byers’, he was more than halfway there anyways. Mike stumbled through the road, his vision started to get blurrier, so he got on his bike again and tried to get to Will’s house as quickly as he could.
He screwed his eyes shut tightly, relying fully on muscle memory to guide him there, and focusing mostly on staying awake. He opened his eyes, almost there, he could see the entrance to their driveway.
Just as he managed to get on the property, a sudden feeling of extreme dizziness and nausea hit him all at once, he promptly ignored it. Getting off his bike, he walked it the rest of the way to the door, knocking softly. He saw a light on, so someone must be up, hopefully they heard him.
Jesus Christ, his head hurt so much, the fact that the door opened, letting light stream out, hitting his eyes, didn’t help much. Wait a minute, the door opened, someone was here, now if he could only focus long enough to figure out who.
He closed his eyes, only for a second, he’d talk to this person in just a minute.
~
Hopper and Joyce were watching a movie, some comedy film that Will had gotten at Family Video a few days prior, when there was a knock on the door, soft, barely noticeable, but there.
Hopper got up to go and answer, Joyce pausing the film and waiting for Hopper on the couch, asking who it was.
Hopper opened the door, now why the hell was Wheeler here at like, 11 pm.
“Hey, kid, what’re you doing here?” Hopper had a harsh tone, he knew that Mike and Will had a bit of a thing for each other, it was obvious to most people around them. Wheeler was pretty audacious to try to date another one of Hoppers kids, even if not by blood.
Mike didn’t respond though, and his breathing was off. Hopper couldn’t see his face, his head was tilted down, his bangs covering his face. His hair was tangled, weird, the kid usually took pretty good care of his hair.
And barely a few seconds passed without a response before Mike swayed a bit. Hopper crouched down a bit to try and see his face; his brow furrowed in worry. Mike looked pale and-wait, was that blood-
His train of thought was abruptly cut off when Wheeler passed out, falling forwards. Hopper managed to catch him.
Apparently, Joyce got worried because Hopper was taking too long and she hadn’t heard much of anything. When she saw Mike in his arms, passed out, with blood on his cheek and staining his sweater, she immediately knew what to do, not to say she wasn’t panicked, she was.
“Oh my god, Mike! Quick, Hopper, lie him down on the couch.”
She was frantic, this hadn’t happened in a while, maybe because Mike had been drifting away and because she had moved away to California with her kids, but it was still worrying.
Hopper listened to her without questioning anything, picking up the boy in his arms, a bit too thin for his height. The most worrying part was that when he held Mike bridal style, he felt a warm liquid on his sleeve, only then realizing that Mike definitely had a head wound that was bleeding.
Jesus fucking Christ, obviously he had passed out, had he biked all the way here with that injury? Stubborn kid.
Joyce came back to the living room shortly after, with a med kit and wet towel. She took Mike’s head in her hands, seemingly scanning for any other injuries.
“He got pretty badly hurt, the back of his head, it’s bleeding, or at least it was, if it stopped, it must’ve bled quite a bit.” He intervened, and Joyce nodded, turning Mike’s head to the side so that she could see what she was dealing with.
It wasn’t too bad, manageable, he didn’t need a hospital, well, he technically did, but he’d be fine without one, he didn’t like going, they apparently asked too many questions, and he didn’t want to say it was his dad. She’d known about it since he was young, back then it had only been yelling, but as he grew older, Ted got increasingly violent, which led to Mike often staying the night with them if anything happened.
She quietly cleaned the wound, noticing that Hopper was silent, she didn’t comment on it, they had more important things to deal with. The back of Mike’s head had gotten injured, the bleeding had stopped a while ago, but it had been intense, no wonder he collapsed as soon as he got to their house.
Once it was clean, she disinfected it, thankfully he wasn’t awake for it, she didn’t want to cause him more pain, even if it was only to help him. It didn’t look too deep, just big, as if someone had been pulling his hair, in any case, that was likely what happened.
She bandaged it, getting his hair as much out of the way as she could, it should heal pretty quick, he’d always healed quickly, in comparison to Will, who’d nick himself with a knife on accident and only fully healed after a month and a half, with it scarring over.
She turned his face back to her, she focused on the cut on his cheek, it was already scabbing over, so she just needed to clean it.
The scrape on his hand and knee also just needed to be cleaned and disinfected.
She covered him with a blanket, kissing his forehead in that motherly way that she would do with one of her own kids, Mike was basically her kid at this point, preferring to spend more time at their house rather than his own.
Hopper pulled her away from him after that, she let him take her to the kitchen, where he leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Do you know what happened with Wheeler, I know he’s an insufferable little shit, but it’s probably difficult for him to find someone to pick a fight with this late in the night?”
She nodded slowly, taking a seat at the table.
“Mike, he . . . Well you see, his dad’s always been difficult, over the past few years, their arguments escalated, and-and it sometimes leads to this, I haven’t seen him show up to my house like this in about a year and a half, probably because we moved to California for a while, but still, this is just-just really sudden.”
“Wait a minute, his dad? Ted? The same guy who looks like he gives no fucks in life?”
“That’s the one.”
The silence between them stretched for an uncomfortable amount of time until Hopper spoke up.
“I’m pretty sure that this constitutes as child abuse. So why haven’t any of you gone to the police?”
“Ted’s the type of guy that everyone would defend, they wouldn’t believe us, and Mike has never wanted to report him, for Holly’s sake apparently, Ted’s a good dad to her, but I’m not so sure.”
Joyce did believe that Ted was an average dad to Holly, but definitely not to Mike. If Mike didn’t want to co-operate on reporting his own father for abuse, then there’s nothing that she could do if he didn’t want to admit anything, apart from trying to be there for him.
“Look, Hop’, we can talk more in the morning, but Mike needs rest, and so do we, we can discuss what to do tomorrow if he’s willing to do anything. Don’t press him for answers, only Will has ever been able to get much out of him.”
She stood up, holding onto Hopper’s hand to calm him down. As much as she definitely had been wanting to take legal or physical action against Ted Wheeler, she couldn’t, not if Mike didn’t want to.
Whenever she questioned Mike about anything regarding his household, he did open up to her, not much, but still. The results were very different if Will was the one questioning him, or at least by his side when Mike was being questioned. Something about her son just seemed to calm Mike down so easily.
She and Hopper went to bed soon after that, having stayed in the kitchen in silence for a good few moments.
Neither of them slept well that night.
Hopper was bothered, mostly by the fact that Mike, the arrogant little shit, lived in an abusive home, with a shitty father. With that in mind, a lot of his behaviours made more sense now.
It was difficult to imagine that Micheal Wheeler, the kid with enough guts to have dated two children of the police chief, even if neither of them are his by blood, and only one is legally his. That Mike was stuck in a situation that likely involved him being constantly put down emotionally by his father, maybe even his mother, Hopper knew less than half of the story.
Joyce was worried sick. Mike was basically like one of her own children, and he hadn’t mentioned anything about his father in quite a while, so she’d hoped that maybe it was Ted finally coming to his senses, but it was just Mike closing himself off.
It seemed like every time that Mike got in a bad situation, or was in a bad place mentally, he’d fully close himself off, not opening up to anyone. It was worrying behaviours to see in a young boy, expected considering his upbringing, but concerning, nonetheless.
They’d deal with it all in the morning