Chapter Text
New York City - Columbia University - October 1989
College was fine.
Yeah. It was fine.
Just fine.
Yeah.
Did Mike Wheeler spend 90% of his time writing in his dorm room? …Maybe. But his classes were actually interesting for once. At least, they were when he actually went.
Sometimes he just… Wasn’t up to it. But it’s not like it’s uncommon for students to skip. Some days he just felt better staying in his room.
Sometimes he just wanted to escape, at least when writing stories, you have control over the ending. With narrative and theme and characters you can create closure. And that’s the one thing in Mike’s life he will never get.
So here he was, in his dorm, writing.
But it wasn’t working.
The story he was writing was one of fantasy- it had all of his favourite elements in it: Friendship, magic, outcasts banding together and becoming stronger for it. But the heart of the story… it was missing.
He’d written at least five drafts, but each time he read it over, it was as though the entire thing fell apart. The three main characters… their ending… Mike just- he couldn’t get it to work.
And maybe… Maybe it was because Mike could not put his full self into this story. Sometimes, he didn’t even feel like a real person. Not anymore.
But he absolutely could not sit and think about that. He could not think about that.
So, instead, he was working on draft six, listening to the soothing sound of the keys on his typewriter clicking. In front of him was the painting that Will made, the party fighting the thessalhydra, it was good inspiration. And at least with the new glasses he got, he was less prone to headaches. It wasn’t an awful set up.
But that painting was also the one she commissioned. And that… that made it harder to think.
The more he thought about her, the deeper the hole in his gut sank. With each memory, each thought, each feeling- the more guilt he felt.
Not just the guilt that he couldn’t save her in the end.
Not just the guilt that he couldn’t wrap his head around why she would choose to do that.
But the guilt that he…
~~~
Indiana - Hawkins - July 1986
“So… What’s up with you and Jane?” Will Byers asked, completely unprompted.
Ugh- if only Mike knew.
“What do you mean?” he responded, really cool and calm like.
The brunette seemed to contemplate his words for a moment. The two were hanging out in the Wheeler basement- AKA Will’s bedroom as of right now- Will had been drawing while Mike went over the plans for the crawl happening that night. Now, the two had paused both activities to have this conversation that Mike really did not want to have.
“I just mean- You could be hanging out with your girlfriend right now… Why are you here with me?”
Shit.
Will was just about the only person that Mike could really open up to… but Will was also one of the last people he wanted to discuss this specific topic with.
“Why is it so weird to hang out with my friend?” Perfect save.
Mike was already bad enough with deciphering facial expressions, but the face Will made was definitely something like a grimace, “I don’t know… I guess it just seems like the last time you talked to me about her, it was when we got back from California and you said that she hadn't really spoken to you about any of it. I guess I just… wanted to know if you guys were even speaking again?”
It was a valid question. The writer had only seen El three times since getting back from California… Since he said… Those words… And each time their conversations had steered clear of their relationship.
Whatever- screw it.
“We… We’ve talked but… not really about… you know… What I said… Us.”
The artist’s brow furrowed, “Not at all?”
“Nope.”
Will put down his pencil and pad of paper beside him on the couch before crossing his arms, “Soooo…?”
Now Mike was confused, “So what?”
“So…” The brunette paused, as if questioning if he even wanted to ask, “Do you think you guys are even still dating?”
Do you think you guys are even still dating?
Were they… were they not? El had broken up with him before, last summer, and after her last letter to him in Lenora, the one she signed ‘From El,’ he had actually wanted-…
But then she needed him. Will said that she needed him- and Will doesn’t ever lie to him.
Everything that Will said- it inspired him… but, in the end, it was El being in danger that convinced him that he had to say it. He cared about her so much, he wanted her safe, he wanted her to save the day like she always did, and if that meant growing up and saying those words, then he had to say them.
And what would it even mean? Not dating El… Just being friends. He was friends with Max even though they weren’t each other's biggest fans, but he liked El, so that meant it was different. You’re supposed to date girls you like… Right?
El is the only girl he’d ever really… Felt a connection with.
Do not think about deeply missing El and Will while they were in Lenora- Who he missed more- STOP.
“Do- Do you think- Is that what you think?” Mike stuttered out.
Will squirmed a bit, “I- I don’t know… It’s just- She wrote ‘From El,” and then you guys haven’t spoken… I don’t know.’
“I do not get any of this” The taller boy groaned to himself.
“Sorry… I might be the worst person in the world to try to give you advice.” Will spoke sheepishly.
Defeated, Mike went and slumped down on the couch beside his friend, close enough that their elbows brushed. Of course Will had to be sitting on the middle cushion.
After a long moment of silence and contemplation, the artist looked up at him with something deep in his eyes, something Mike couldn’t decipher, “...Would it be so bad?”
“I- I don’t know… It’s… Scary.”
Will’s brow furrowed for what seemed like the millionth time this conversation, “Scary?”
“Just- I don’t know- it’s stupid.”
“Mike.”
“I guess… I just don’t know if I’ll ever meet another girl like her.”
“Mike, she literally has psychic powers. You’re not meeting anybody like her… besides Venca I guess, but-” Both boy’s faces reddened very quickly at the implication, “Not that you’d ever consider dating Vecna! I mean- he’s a boy- and- and he’s evil so- no. Just no-” He took a breath, “Just- She’s kinda one of a kind.”
“I know…”
But that was the problem… Would there ever be another girl he liked? Did he even like her like-
Stop thinking about it-
Of course he did. El was the only girl he’d ever connected with, and the kissing wasn’t so bad either.
But the last year… it had been kind of… nice to be in Hawkins and not have to present in any certain way.
It had been really nice to not care about how he was supposed to act, or like, or whatever. Eddie always preached about conformity, and Hellfire was a great way to get some relief.
Would it be like that if he wasn’t with El?
Was the way he’d been able to step up, take on a leader role with his friends, because he was the heart, or because he was away from El?
She wasn’t talking to him like she used to… was that because of grief and feeling like she failed? Or was it because…
“Maybe we are broken up…” Mike said to the open air in front of him.
~~~
New York City - Columbia University - October 1989
The guilt that haunted him the most, in the end, was that he didn’t realize- they were supposed to be together that entire time… and he couldn’t even say- it- back before she-
Before she-
Damn it damn it damn it- stop. No.
The shrill ringing sound pierced through the air- and suddenly he was back in that moment-
The moment he failed.
He couldn’t help her.
No. No- not her, an illusion. She’s okay- she’s living- she made it out- it’s okay- it’s okay.
It’s OKAY.
After a moment- the ringing turned into the phone- Was that always what was making that sound?
The writer took a couple of deep breaths before picking up the phone,
“...Hello?”
The other line clicked for a second before a very familiar and welcomed voice spoke, “Mike! Hey! It’s Will. I just… I’m in the area… and- It’s been a couple months, and I haven't seen you since Hawkins… I just thought- Did you- Did you wanna meet up? Tonight?”
Meet up? Like- go out? Where… No.. he… He would rather stay in, “Oh-! Hey… Uhh yeah! We should… we should hang, uh- maybe you wanna come to my place?”
There was a short pause, “Are you okay? You sound…”
“I’m fine.”
Another pause, “...Okay. Sure, yeah, what’s your address again?”
After giving him the details of how to get to his dorm, they quickly ended the call.
Will should be here in 15 minutes.
The question was- would the artist stopping by do Mike good… or will it… just make him more depressed.
Well, only one way to find out.