Chapter Text
It’s been a surprisingly manageable few weeks despite how eventful it's been. It feels like yesterday when Mike first gazed upon the dark clouds in the sky– the day he finally returned home only to see it in disrepair. It could be worse, he supposes. Maybe… It's pretty shitty right now. Either way, he’s been managing. Somehow. Kinda.
…
Who is he kidding? He isn’t managing well. Sure, it’s… fine. As fine as it can be when your town has been torn into four. Actually, no, it’s beyond fucked up. He can’t really say it’s fine when it’s clearly not. It is super fucked. Indubitably fucked. Mike could go on about how fucked up this situation is. But he can’t– or maybe he could but that’ll cause panic and there’s bigger things to worry about. He can’t have everyone focusing on his mental stability. He can worry about that afterward! Though, he doubts he’ll find a qualified enough therapist… and one that isn’t governmentally affiliated.
That’s another thing– the constant presence of the military also isn’t helping with his stress. Safety? Eh, kinda. It’s there. Debatable. But dear god is it stressing him out beyond relief. Mike’s certain he’ll be getting gray hairs before 30. Maybe even before 20. It’s invasive, but he supposes he understands. It’s only been weeks since Hawkins split into four (he’s not sure how they’ve been able to mask it as an “earthquake” so props to them for that)(then again, the press pushes that it’s a gateway into hell– no different than the tabloids, as his dad says) and the dark clouds and plumes of smoke that filled the sky.
There’s checkpoints all around now, efforts to fill in the gap with a, uh, metal band-aid, and the military has instated mandated check-ups for everyone. It just feels invasive to Mike… It hurts to see his hometown be torn like this. Things just couldn’t be simple; a gate to a different dimension just had to open here of all places, and now the government has its nose stuck deep in Hawkins. It makes sneaking around a lot more difficult too. He liked it much better when Hawkins was quiet and sleepy.
At least Mike doesn’t need to worry about school. Not really. The high school has been made into a shelter now, so anytime he visits it’s for charity and not for learning. Hopefully it won’t be like that for long… as much as Mike hates school, he wants a good GPA or whatever for college or something later in life.
…Right, there’s the really depressing shit that makes it more and more difficult to be optimistic about. After… will he really have a future after all of this? Maybe, but it’s not guaranteed. Mike is trying to be hopeful, but it’s difficult to maintain and keep that hope. He wonders how the others do it… something about his friends’ undying determination is really admirable. He thinks of Lucas, who almost never leaves Max’s bedside, and he can’t help but think how sweet that really is. He also can’t help but ponder on how damn depressing that is. Even though Mike isn’t sure how they are as friends, he really hopes Max will get better. She’s really cool– even with how stupid of a class “zoomer” is.
He’s imaging it now… maybe the hospital will call and notify them, or they’ll all be there already when Max wakes. Lucas will probably be the most relieved and overjoyed person, pleading how the redhead is finally awake. Max would probably retort, “Eh, I think I could take a few more winks of sleep.” Mike likes to believe she would just be cool like that.
He thinks of Nancy, Dustin, Joyce, and Hopper– they’ve gone through so much shit yet they’ve never given up. Sure, they must’ve had those moot points, but… look at them now. Mike recalls of El… Honestly, he’s not sure just how much, but it shows with how she carries herself. She hurts, certainly, but she’s still so strong. Maybe stronger than anybody he knows. She’s so determined, so driven, so kind, so heroic. She’s kinda perfect.
And Mike isn’t.
Yeah, so, he poured his heart out in… Surfer Bro’s Pizza– it was all kinda bizarre, but it happened. Yet he feels like he fumbled his words. He’s not sure if he really said the right things or if he meant most of it. Like, yeah, of course he meant it all, but… is he mistaken? Is he getting something wrong? He absolutely needs El, but… is it like that? Does she really need him? Obviously she needs him, but she needs people in general. It’s not just him– there’s nothing special about him.
So… Mike may be a little insecure. Still. Actually, maybe more than a little.
He recalls Will's words– his reassurance. It felt nice. Really. He appreciates it a lot, and it warms his heart, yet… Mike isn't convinced. Not fully. He can't tell if it's some self-sabotaging part of himself or the truth, but El doesn't really need him. Yes, she appreciates and loves him, but…
Ah, yeah, Mike definitely needs therapy.
Now that the other boy is in his mind, Mike's thoughts wander to Will. That's another person he deeply admires, because Will is… phenomenal. He doesn't know how he does it. Despite everything, especially now and how scary it's all been… Will still stands so firmly. He's also, well, perfect.
Mike doesn't deserve this. But he wants to be someone that does. He can't be left behind– or maybe he could, but he doesn't want to be.
Just… how does he do that? And If he tries, will it be enough?
…Is he being too negative? Nobody would ever really “leave him behind”, but Mike just doesn't want to be burdensome. He needs to make sure he pulls his weight, he needs to make sure he helps– that he offers something productive and irreplaceable to the party! He just needs to do more..!
Alas, he must stay on the sidelines. He’s a pivotal enough role, helping Lucas out with lookout during crawls. Though, it’s mostly Lucas that is doing the looking out, while Mike just relays the information. It is a good system that they have but…
God, what is wrong with him?
“All clear,” Mike says– just in time before anything could get complicated. However, it doesn’t save him from a quick side glance from Lucas.
Currently, the party is attempting another crawl. They’ve been surprisingly successful. There’s many points of entrance to the Upside Down now, but they’re all risky and heavily fortified– somehow, their easiest shot inside has been the central military base, MAC-Z. Mike wonders if this is a sign of military incompetence or not… it’s merely the most exploitable point.
His eyes train onto Hopper sneaking onto the back of one of the trucks. It’ll have to be a quick crawl– one that’ll be exploring around… Mt. Sinai and Randolph if Mike recalls correctly. He’s on a limited time of one hour and a half, but that’s enough time for the man. Maybe more than enough. Probably more than enough. The man is incredibly resourceful after all.
Smoke covers the scene, but the forms of the trucks are clear. The illumination of the headlights is broken in the fog, the light scattering along surfaces. From atop the tower they can hear the grumbling of engines as the trucks move along. Lucas and Mike watch the vehicles move in– “He’s flipped,” Mike reports, the static of the radio cracking.
And then… they just wait. Pretty much. They have to wait there until the trucks return because they need to direct Hopper out. Mike doesn’t mind all that much really, it’s nice getting fresh air. As fresh as it can be when there’s ash in it. He sighs softly, leaning against the support of the tower. Lucas sets his binoculars down and digs his hand into a pack of chips. Despite Mike’s misgivings about bringing snacks along for something so serious, Lucas continues to do so– apparently it’s so he keeps his energy. Mike supposes it isn’t that big of a problem as long as it doesn’t bring any attention.
“You’ve been acting weird,” Lucas mutters, eyeing Mike with an inquisitive gaze.
Mike almost coughs, taken off guard by the sudden comment. “What do you mean?” He shifts, now leaning his back against the support, and he crosses his arms.
Lucas huffs, gesturing with his hands in a nondescript way. The boy is often careful about his words– or he tries to at least. “I don’t know, you just… space out or whatever. Like, most of the time.”
Mike stiffens a little from that. “Well, sorry if I’m not totally 100% during the end of the world,” he’s quickly overcome by worry because Lucas doesn’t say anything in response. Did he sound snappy? He didn’t mean to snap on the other…
“Lucas, I-”
“I mean, yeah… it’s definitely not easy,” Lucas sighs.
A silence falls between them. It’d almost be peaceful if it weren’t for the clamoring of soldiers down below. And for the imminent and impending doom of Vecna. It’s a brief silence, as Lucas speaks again. “What I mean is that… if something is wrong– or, like, worse, it’s okay to tell us.”
Mike isn’t sure how to respond to that. He doesn’t… Lucas doesn’t have to worry about him. As much as Mike appreciates it, the other really doesn’t have to.
There’s bigger things to worry about.
“Yeah, totally,” is all he can muster.
It’s far too late, it always is after a crawl, yet he finds himself at the hospital. Thankfully, it wasn’t much of an issue on getting there. A lot of the nurses are nice and understanding. Of course, Lucas is also there– they’re visiting Max– something about how Lucas felt restless and anxious. Mike doesn’t blame him. He decided to join along out of support and care. And maybe also the fact that he doesn’t feel like sleeping either, but who’s asking? It’s busy as ever, but less so than normal. Thankfully, the two don’t experience any trouble when going to visit Max.
It’s a miracle. Really. Max is still alive, but she’s… lost. El can’t find her. Mike doesn’t know how any of it works, but he just hopes that Max can find her way back. He recalls El saying stuff about memories or other..? Maybe Max is lost and trapped in those? If that makes any sense– again, Mike really does not know how it works. They’re all left with only speculation. She is looking a lot better, though. For one, her face looks a lot more healthy and peaceful. Perhaps Kate Bush really is that powerful.
Lucas takes a seat by Max’s bed when they enter her room. At this point, he might as well live there. Mike thinks of the many times he’s called Lucas only to find out he’s not home at all and instead at the hospital. He really can’t blame him. Mike isn’t sure what to say– he has no kind of powerful speech or whatever planned. “She’s strong,” is what comes to mind.
His eyes flicker over the other boy. “I know,” Lucas says as he fiddles with his fingers.
Mike stays quiet, anxious for possibly saying the wrong thing. He has ideas of what he could be saying right now, but are they exactly appropriate? Mike is still iffy on how to deal with sensitive situations– most of the time he just gets frustrated and loses his words. Or he says the wrong thing. So, he opts to just stay quiet. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem to bother Lucas. At least for right now.
It’s calm in the room. It’s eerily soothing. Lucas is speaking to Max’s unconscious state, and it’s just so obvious how tired he sounds. Mike wanders, a little aimless, before settling on leaning against a wall. His gaze isn’t really focused on anything, almost blurring. He can’t stop himself from getting lost in his thoughts– it feels like his mind never gets a moment to breathe, like he can never catch a break. Nobody can, really. Mike is not unique in that.
Mike wonders how it would’ve been if he stayed in Hawkins. Could he have done more? Sure, it wasn’t like he was totally useless out in California and Utah and Nevada (wow, he traveled quite a bit actually) but his involvement wasn’t anything groundbreaking. But would he really have been useful here at home? Maybe, but maybe not. Especially with all the drama with Hellfire, a lot of people are convinced he’s some kind of devil worshiper… Mike isn’t sure how he’ll clear all of that up.
…
Fuck, did he ever really give himself the time to mourn Eddie?... Once the thought pierces him it feels like he’s just been gutted alive. The guilt that settles inside tastes like poison. It feels like he brushed his death off too fast. He knew that he needed to stay low, so he couldn’t really wear his Hellfire shirt at all anymore– at least not in public. But… as it eats him up and swallows him whole, a sick feeling sets in his stomach.
Dustin must have been feeling so alone, yeah? And Mike has barely made the effort to just… be there? What is wrong with him?
Lucas– well, he’s not completely alone, but he must be struggling just as much too. And while Mike wasn’t the closest or best of friends with Max, he’s worried that he neglected her too. When did he ever get so… caught up in his head. What has been distracting him so much from his friends? What issues does he have that are so much more important than his friends?
Mike can already feel the headache that’s forming. He feels tension press against his temples, and there’s still the lingering exhaustion.
“It’s late. I think I’m gonna head out,” He says weakly. He feels kind of like an asshole for not even saying anything or bringing words of comfort to Lucas, but the other seems to understand. Yes, it is late. It’s completely reasonable for Mike to feel so drowsy.
“Yeah, get some sleep,” Lucas nods as he bids farewell, “Bye.”
Mike only hopes that he’ll follow on Lucas’s word and actually sleep. But considering how he’s feeling right now, he kinda doubts it. Even if it’s uncomfortable, he’ll take what he can get.
It doesn’t take long for him to leave the hospital, but the uneasy lights don’t exactly help at all. Mike worries that he’s getting a migraine now. Fingers crossed that it doesn’t disorient him too bad that he wrecks his bike or whatever. Thankfully, outside is much nicer– it’s dark and cold, but in a refreshing way. Mostly. It’s probably not good that it’s so cold like it is considering… yeah.
Then again, Mike hasn’t even seen any monsters around. Hawkins opened up, and yet… nothing else has happened. No demogorgon in sight, no demo-dogs, no demo-bats… there’s the stray vine around, but those are mostly by the gates, and even those haven’t been a problem. Really, the only danger is the air. For the most part…
Maybe it’s only a matter of time.
The bike ride from the hospital to his house isn’t that arduous at all. The main problem is that Mike needs to be wary of any military around (stupid mandated curfew…) but he’s grown used to it that it isn’t too big of a problem anymore. He takes a glance at his watch and– ah, it’s past midnight. His mom, if she’s awake, is totally going to freak. If not her then it’ll be Nancy. Or Will. Maybe even Jonathan or Joyce– there’s a lot more people in that house. It’s kinda nice, though. Mike doesn’t feel as lonely anymore. Mostly. Somewhat.
His bike jumps as it dips into a pothole– fortunately, Mike is able to save himself from totally falling and eating shit. His heart skips a little, frightened. He huffs, mounting his foot and pulling his bike out of the pothole. They’ll build a whole military base but not work on the roads, huh? Though, as his hands tug on the metal supports of the bike, he feels a sting in his head. A really bad sting. He winces, his hands dropping the bike– the coldness his hands wrapped around now replaced with numbness– and hastily holds his head. His fingers press against his temples, but it only provides a fraction of the smallest of comfort. There’s a pounding in his head and a ringing in his ears.
Why is this happening? Mike can hardly think right now, and all his focus is on trying to relieve his headache. He leans heavily against his bike, almost falling entirely but it’s able to support him soundly. He’s never experienced a headache this bad… especially if it’s not tied to a concussion or something. Even so, it’s uniquely terrible. It feels like something is trying to crawl inside his mind– knocking his skull as if demanding to be let in. His breathing is heavy; his throat feels tight and his lungs feel painfully constricted. A hand props itself on the handle bars of the bike, and it helps a decent cushion of his head, his other hand still presses on his temple.
Honestly, this might be the worst pain he’s ever felt.
He’s shaking so much, he must be. What was once just soothing cold air now feels like spikes digging into his body. It’s all so sharp and vicious. Then he feels something strange on his hand… Mike lifts his head up slightly, and he sees the drop of blood on the back of his hand. Confused, he quickly tries to check where it came from, but he’s far too disoriented to make any progress on that. Beneath all the quaking and beating of his head, he can barely hear the creaking of his bike beneath him. This time, he is unable to save himself from the fall.
“Shit!” He exclaims. He’s able to save his face, but all his weight falls onto his arm and side. Ow. Tonight is just not his night. After he falls, his headache seems to relieve itself finally. Mike wishes it could’ve been any earlier, or it could’ve been later in his room. Now he’s laying down on the asphalt. Fucking hell. He feels pathetic right now, but it’s not like he had any control over his headache.
He groans, a small pained whine mixes with it, in frustration. He rolls onto his back as he tries to just… assess what all of that was about. At least the night sky is nice to look at. He pants, his chest rising and lowering in haste as he intakes breaths through his mouth. Seriously, what the fuck was that? Did he not drink enough water? Is he too stressed out? Mike’s pretty sure he’s been taking care of himself just fine… He sighs, and as he tries to take a breath through his nose, he only coughs. It’s deeply uncomfortable.
“Oh my fucking-... what the hell is this?!” He yells out to nothing. It’s just him– and maybe a few bugs around. He sits up, a hand rubbing his nose… it’s so… wet. He pulls his hand away and finds a smear of blood on it. All his anger is replaced with confusion. His gaze flickers on his hand, inspecting. However, his nose is still bleeding– he can really feel it now– and he swiftly pinches the bridge of his nose. It sucks that he doesn’t have a cloth or anything to wipe and collect the blood, but whatever.
As he pinches his nose firmly, he thinks to himself… Why? Mike never gets headaches or nosebleeds like this. Definitely not often. He hopes it’s just a stroke of bad luck, but… knowing everything with Vecna… Fuck. Please, no. Don’t fucking tell me…
Weren’t really bad nosebleeds or headaches a symptom of Vecna’s influence or something? They said that Max had those and look at her now! Mike is filled with dread and terror. Sure, not all hope is lost– music helps!– but it doesn’t ease him in the slightest still!
Maybe… It's just a coincidence. It’s a weak fucking argument, but Mike latches onto it. Besides, Vecna already made the whole gate and everything. It’d be pointless to target Mike! Right? It’d make no sense. What would Mike even offer that could be remotely useful to Vecna? That’s right, nothing! He’s just worrying himself. Maybe it is just the stress of everything, it could also be because of the climate– after all, a huge fucking gate opened! That’s sure to affect the atmosphere. Mike is just… really susceptible to it.
That doesn't sound great either. Mike opts to just stop thinking about it. At least for right now. It’s late. He needs sleep. He checks his watch and–
“An hour has passed already?!” His hands flail in panic as he hastily pushes his bike up and gets back on it. It’s 2:31 AM right now… if he gets any sleep it is definitely not going to be enough. At least his nose isn’t bleeding anymore.
His main concern is Nancy and everyone else at home. He hopes they aren’t too worried and that they won’t try to poke and prod at his brain.
Fortunately, Mike doesn’t experience any more complications along the road. His headache has passed for the most part, and there’s no potholes in sight. By the time he gets home it’s already 2:39, and all he can think about is dropping dead asleep on his bed. Hopefully he’ll wake early enough to take a shower in the morning– even if it’s just a quick one.
The night ambiance is made up of the low gusts of wind, crickets, and a nearby sprinkler on his house’s lawn. It’s rather strange. Despite everything, his home still looks just the same. Mike appreciates the normalcy and safety, but he has a few notes– like what is the point of continuing to water your lawn during the end of the world? Or maybe that’s just him trying to get out of any kind of chores. He parks his bike carefully, and as he walks to the door he feels a horrible dread crawling up his spine. It’s… so late. It’s going to be an absolute headache if somebody spots him.
Because the front door just seems too obvious, Mike opts to enter through the backdoor. Even if it is more time consuming. And unfortunately, the backdoor is rather old and it makes a horrible creaking sound. How sneaky… It's only now that it settles on how much of an idiot he is.
Mike quickly, but quietly, walks up the stairs. He isn’t too confident that it doesn’t alert anybody, though… not with all the gear he’s wearing. His footing feels a little weird, too. Likely from when he fell down on the road. Shit, does he look fucked up? Hopefully not. It’s not like it was that bad of a fall anyhow. It was barely a fall at all! He just lost his footing and uh…
He gets the idea that he might’ve been too noisy and taking too long, because the hallway light turns on and… ah, low and behold…
“Oh, h-hey, Nance-”
“Where the hell have you been?” Nancy immediately snaps, although it is hushed so that she doesn’t wake Holly or their parents.
Mike laughs awkwardly, and his palms feel clammy all of the sudden. “Oh, yeah, haha. I was totally gonna explain everything, but it just got so late, and-”
“Just answer my question, Mike!” She quickly retorts.
Scary…
“Okay, okay! Sorry,” He quickly waves his hands, as if somehow it’ll reassure his sister. “I just went to the hospital with Lucas for a bit. I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten.”
“Why not walkie any of us? Do you have any idea how worried I was?”
…He… totally forgot about that. Mike might’ve turned off his walkie-talkie or something at some point. He just figured that everyone had logged off for the night.
“I-I don’t know. It just left my mind,” He mutters. “I’m here now, so what’s the big idea?” He tries to retreat to his room, but, of course, Nancy doesn’t let him go that easily.
“The big idea- Mike, you know how serious this all is!” She frowns, a hand tightly gripping around Mike’s arm.
Yes, he does know! Which is why he doesn’t need someone coddling him right now! He’s got it handled. Mike huffs, and he might’ve rolled his eyes too, as he forces his arm out of Nancy’s grip. “I’m fine, okay? I made it home.”
Nancy only gives him a stern look. Mike’s expression only hardens.
“Ugh, look, we can talk all about this in the morning or whatever, but it’s late and I want to sleep,” Mike says. He makes sure to bite his tongue and avoid saying any dumb shit. He honestly does want sleep. Or at least some.
Thankfully, Nancy seems to be in a merciful mood. However, something about the hurt and worry in her eyes really does hurt something inside Mike. Why is he like this..? How stupid… He sighs, and he turns away and heads inside his bedroom. He almost sinks right there, in front of his door, but he still has enough energy to remove some layers and fall on his bed. He feels disgusting right now, but he can wash it all off in the morning.
It’s definitely not enough sleep, but at least he falls asleep relatively easily. How relieving.