Chapter Text
"You make that jump from this height, that water turns into cement."
…
As it stands in an underdeveloped pre-teen mind the choice was simple. Weighted heavy, sure, but none the less simple in a way of 'what would be better?' Mike knew to go on would not be that of living, but rather existing in a room while his soul resided fifty feet below sea level. Swimming in his mind searching for the answers in a universe where the person he's looking for never got any. Questioning and anxious in a way Mike never was but would be if he didn't choose the simple option.
"Mike. Don't do it, seriously don't do it man! Seriously don't!"
Normally he would kick and scream, argue and bite until his friends safety was guaranteed. But this choice would kill two birds with one stone. Saving Dustin from living through his teenage years with dentures, and saving himself from a predetermined future in which he slumps through his teenage years. Poorly planned campaigns with even poorer grades as he's distracted thinking where his friend would've sat during tests. How hobbies would change and grow into future careers and college applications while his missing half stayed sketching with discounted crayons spread across the kitchen table.
"Mike, don't!"
It barely registers, don't. What he, and every privileged child lucky enough to live at the end of a cul-di-sac hears from the moment they can move without assistance. What a mother shouts before she catches her toddler knock over a glass. The stern warning from an older sibling not to touch her stuff. A stressful syllable uttered only to and by those who were never taught to be grateful for what others would long for. Mike never heard his friend's mom spike in sudden anger at a small mistake, never sigh when he forgot a chore. It didn't take long to understand why. She knew that her son knew they were struggling. Understanding and worry fueling kindness and sincerity where stability failed. And because he knew, he worked hard to make his mother proud. Did what he could around the house without a fuss. Walked the dog before school after his mother left for work, never wasting graphite or loose paper and instead creating refrigerator masterpieces for his mom and brother to be proud of.
"Dentist's office opens in five!"
Mike's mom was proud too, of course. Science awards won over several sleepovers of hard work, accompanied by writing assignments earning him extra credit. But her work was home, so no other building existed for his mother to leave her stress in. Arguments and small inconveniences collected like dust over every surface, only to then be disturbed by the clumsy touch of a harmless mistake. Mike's father lazed around when not at work, caring little for the up-keep of his own home, assured that his wife would complete the tasks. Mike wondered, selfishly, that if his father weren't in the picture, forcing his mother to get a job, if the stress that weighed heavy on the home would dissipate with his mother's worry. It wasn't a fair thought, Mike knew, his friends father only remained a forgotten thought due to his behavior neither of them wished to name. Mike was lucky, to have a father who loved him.
"Four!"
A father that didn't judge his clothing, not because he was worried that other kids would bully him, but that it would put an already forming dent in his father's own reputation.
"Three!"
A father that didn't force him to pursue hobbies that didn't interest him, then getting mad when he failed.
"Two!"
A father that didn't echo aloud the names other kids called him at school. Stirring up rumors his father feared were true. Instilling in him the wrongness these words carried, fairy, fag, queer.
"One!"
That's what James had said, hadn't he? The cruel accusation thrust upon the group before they knew it was true. Probably killed by some other queer. That's what James father had told him, like how Will's father slurred drunken truths no one wanted to accept. Because if James father had been right than Will's father must have been as well, and that means Mike's father also knew.
See what happens, Michael?
What happens when what?
What happens when parents and teachers detect the future of their children on them before a kids senses could fully develop. When the bullies were right when they were supposed to be wrong. When life rolls an infinite amount of possibilities and the wrong side faces up.
It was a seven. The Demogorgon, it got me.
The possibility of Mike letting go was infinite, the only scenario shouted by the universe in an extended instance that left him suspended in thick air. It cut into Mikes skin like glass numbing the nerves that ached from crying. Time stood still with the rush of the world around him acting as white noise leaving him to reminisce of what exactly brought him to this moment. Perhaps if he convinced his mother to play for five more minutes guaranteeing Will The Wise a happy ending. Maybe if he worried more about Will's absence from school and pushed about the worry in his chest he could of found his friend before it was to late. There's a chance taking in Eleven slowed their progress instead of enhancing. God how selfish was he? Taking in a girl to prove something to himself while the boy who lived in his life like family was at the bottom of a lake. Did she even really have power? Was the compass just broken?Was he just coping with loss of his friend just like Mrs. Byers was? Creating fictitious scenarios close family and friends knew weren't true? Maybe El did escape from Pennhurst. Maybe they did tap into a baby monitor. Maybe Mike was lying to himself because every truth that would surface with acceptance could make a future without Will in it somehow worse.
You're blind, blind because you like that a girl's not grossed out by you.
That truth and every one to follow would not come as the quarry rocks filled Mike's vision.
But wake up man!
Wake the hell up!
…
His casket was closed.
The body to mutilated for loved ones to see. They gathered around now, to close to the body buried just a week before.
"Good afternoon, thank you all for gathering to celebrate the life of Michael Wheeler."
Mrs. Wheeler muffled sobs into Joyce's shoulder embracing in a shared grief.
"Tragedy has struck Hawkins. Two beloved sons lost to misunderstanding and hidden pain, but the lord will not let this passing over shadow the beautiful lives lived. To move forward and carry the lord in our hearts is to honor the memory of Micheal."
The pastor moved aside letting Mrs and Mr. Wheeler take the attention of the crowd. Karen sniffled, mascara running with tears. She lifted a note card in one hand and a handkerchief in the other muffling sobs as she composed herself.
"My son, Mike, cares so deeply for the things he loves. His toys, his friends, that stupid game he likes." Mrs. Wheeler chuckled in sorrow at that one, and it wasn't lost on the company that she spoke of him as if he were still with them. Still waiting to go home and complain about how boring the funeral was and how he thinks it's unfair the pastor gets to speak first.
"Even though we don't always get along, Mike always put forth effort during holidays and birthdays. He would make… Sorry." Karen sobbed deep into her handkerchief, mascara staining the light fabric. Ted wrapped his arm around his wife and whispered what the company assumed were reassurances. Karen shook her head at him and turned briefly toward the audience.
"I'm sorry. I just- I. I can't do this."She pattered off to her eldest daughters side, embracing one another in sorrow.
"Well then." Ted took the stand.
"Our son blessed our lives for twelve happy, albeit, frustrating years." His face was hard to read but not unexpressive as it usually is. Instead a soft sadness read on his countenance.
"Watching him grow and engage with the world around him for the first time was an experience that could never be replaced." Lucas and Dustin grimaced almost loudly at Mr. Wheeler's speech. The recounting of their close friend's life was impersonal and generalized. Cozy stories that could be told about anyone lucky enough to make it to one year of age. Ted went on to describe all of Mike's firsts. The first time he talked, the first day of school, and his first birthday. Milestones most people had the grace of passing, and while memorably sweet, his words elicited no sobs from the crowd. Save Karen and Joyce.
Nancy refused to speak on behalf of Mike's life, and despite Mrs. Wheeler's efforts to usher her to the stand, she refused. Nancy shook her head frantically, hiding behind Jonathan and Steve to negate attention. Only the elementary and middle shool kids glanced her way while their parents quietly scolded them for staring.
The ceremony started as it began, the pastor making some one note statement about 'the great lord' and how 'Mike's in a better place'. Dustin and Lucas knew it not to be true. No place could be better for their friend than here, going back to school on Monday and excitedly waiting for 3rd period to see Mr. Clarke. No place in the known galaxy had a first addition D&D set and character sheets waiting to be filled out. Nowhere but Hawkins Indiana could you wait for Mrs. Wheeler's cooking as it wafted from the kitchen down the basement stairs.
No place would live up to where Mike's friends and family weren't. Though, if Will's soul resided in the same place as their newly passed friend's. Then perhaps wherever their adventure has taken them isn't so bad.