Chapter Text
It's rough seeing your childhood friend group slowly drift apart. Although, now that Mike is actively thinking about it - it wasn't slow at all.
Quite the opposite. The band-aid being ripped off before a proper scab could even form.
It was the type of falling out where, even with it being at least few years in the making, time just kind of jumped forward. No waiting for Mike Wheeler to catch up to the rest of the world.
One moment you're all saying goodbye's after a successful end of a D&D campaign, and then… then it's just you. Just Mike Wheeler, waiting by the phone and falling behind in college. Dropping out and feeling like you're now even more behind in life. Eventually standing by the door, considering if socialization is even worth getting out of your parents' basement.
Mike Wheeler who, despite it all, is still waiting.
"Shit, why am I like this…"
He couldn't help but resort to his old ways; staring at the ceiling with his body all tensed up and his mind somewhere else. Apparently that's something he has going for him now; "self-pity" and "losing track of time" - it's all so stupid just thinking about it.
So, what's left?
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Lucas and Max don't really need Mike "third wheel" Wheeler following them around like some sad lost puppy. They've got enough on their plate with a baby on the way after all.
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Dustin, despite his kind words and offers of "yeah, you know you can drop by anytime, man" his voice always seems so distant, busy and unsure coming from the phone. That and Mike always being the one to reach out… he didn't want to intrude more than he already did.
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And well, there's Will. They stopped being in touch a while back, right after Mike fucked up severely.
In all honesty, he doesn't really want to remember the precise words he used. He just knows it was completely uncalled for - some off-hand comment about Will's boyfriend 'back then' not being the right choice - that's what did it.
Mike likes to add the "back then" part whenever there's mention of "Will" and "boyfriend" in the same sentence, not because he knows of their current relationship status, but because it makes the air around him a little bit easier to breathe. That and also it's not like he ever dared to check up on said topic. …Or to ever reach out to Will again.
Plus there's a shameful part of Mike that doesn't really want to know Will who'd choose his stupid boyfriend over his childhood best friend - him.
Mike made the decision for the both of them. He ended up taking such a big step back from Will, that the rest of the friend group consequently took passive damage as well. No more D&D in Mike's basement, no more full group hangouts outside of that as well, obviously. It all started to look like some sort of platonic divorce went down between them. "He who shall not be named or Mike will get all pissy" as Max liked to say, poking her finger deep into some wound that Mike could never quite locate. But even that joke eventually died down.
It's not that he hated Will. Not at all! Quite the opposite - Mike cared deeply for his best friend, he just sometimes wished that …Choice of a Partner hadn't taken up so much of Will's mental space, time, energy, care-
It was definitely a choice. His choice - to hold distance from that guy and incidentally Will as well. The tired, absolutely broken look from Will directed at Mike on the night of that stupid fuck up helped a lot.
Eventually it all became too exhausting to keep up. So, full on "Mike / Will" severance was for the best.
Besides, it's not like that's the only thing Mike has going for him. There's plenty other shitty stuff. All readily available for him to flip through in his mind, keeping his eyes wide open - staring at the red "4:12AM" on his nightstand, like it'll help and lull him back to his usual restless sleep.
He seemed to be subconsciously searching for this bright red light for the past year every damned night now. So much so, that it was always there at this point, even when he closed his eyes. Like an EXIT sign that could possibly lead him out of some corny nightmare.
To be frank, there's been an uprise of inconsistencies happening around Mike as of lately.
Sure, he himself can admit that sometimes he just wasn't fully there. From them saving the world, losing El and somehow (despite all the shit that went down with the army) being allowed by the government to go back to their "normal" lives (as long as they keep their mouths shut) all at once… It was a lot to take in - some jet lag should be expected.
But he could've sworn there were moments that just didn't really line up. Like, for example, that one time at dinner ; his mother's scars.
It's not that they were different
-either healing faster than expected or looking strange under the given light or whatever-
There were none. Not even a single scratch.
To be honest, Mike never allowed himself to properly look at those scars - his body making sure to cringe away from the thought as if mere staring would reopen them, killing his mom.
He settled on focusing his eyes somewhere near the bridge of her nose. That was safe.
(God, you have to toughen up already. You're being pathetic.)
Mike's mention, an almost innocent and genuine question of said missing scars proved to be a …somewhat right decision? He felt all the eyes at the table directly on him. Just a "blink and you'll miss it" and the scars were back to being in their "rightful place" on his mother's body.
It was like a knife had twisted itself in the middle of his gut.
Something inside him was screaming out, he just wasn't sure for what.
Before he managed to awkwardly cough at the bite being lodged somewhere deep in his throat, the stares and the conversation already directed elsewhere, as if nothing strange had happened at all mere moments ago. The tension in the air remained awfully sour.
The red "4:13AM" is actively mocking him now.
(Only one fucking minute?) "…are you kidding me?" It's enough to let him know that it's going to be another long night while precious time is slowly but surely passing him by. The fact that, yes, he was stuck, just not enough to stop time and actually fix things. The so called "EXIT sign" on his nightstand disappearing as he flipped over on his side.
On nights like this he even considered begging.
Who knows, maybe those prayers he had to learn as a kid will come in clutch and he'll be saved. But it never really went anywhere, now did it? Nothing meaningful enough to scratch the surface of "help", a proper attempt was never really made anyway.
Maybe because Mike Wheeler was scared. Because if his prayers were actually answered, then God was real. And if God was real - he was scared of the implications that came along with it:
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his father was right about a lot more than what Mike is ready to admit to
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he had this ability to just "pray the bad away" all along, yet allowed so many bad things to happen to everyone around him
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he could've helped El
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he could've protected Will
…and maybe, if only God is forgiving enough:
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Mike could be cured of being a damn fag
So pathetic.