Chapter Text
“There is no way you believe that, Mike.”
“I- No, I do,” Mike sputters, ”I really do- care for you! I do.” He shouts back throwing his hands aimlessly in the air. He so stupid, so very stupid. Mike can't even bring himself to say it; his own girlfriend is standing right there; right in front of him. And he even can't do the only thing she's ever asked of him.
He's pathetic.
El sighs, “You still can not-” El sighs again; heavier as she looks up at him. “Please just stop, I do not want to do this right now.” She turns and sits on the side of her bed; farthest from Mike, clutching at her long flannel shirt. It reminded him of the way Will would grab at his clothes when he was nervous.
They really do act like twins.
“If you really loved me, you would not have hesitated to say it. And I do not think we are doing well lately. We have not been for a while. We have been fighting a lot, and I think we are better off as friends.” El stated bluntly.
She's never been afraid to say what she truly thinks. Mike has always admired her for that; envied her actually, and now it's back to bite him in the butt.
Mike didn't know how to respond to that, what was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to fight for an already broken relationship, or just accept it? Deep down he already knows, he knows.
He feels… content. He isn't supposed to feel that way, he's just been dumped for god sake.
El notices his silence and adds on.
“I think we should break up.”
Mike finally looks up at her defeated. He doesn't know what to do, or say, or react in general. His gaze flickering back between El’s eyes,and then he finally musters up a pathetic apology; if you can even call it that.
“Im sorry.”
“For what, Mike? For treating me like garbage or,” She's starting to tear up, voice cracking as she continues. “Never saying you love me, or still calling me by Eleven? You know I hate that stupid name, but you, you are the only one who calls me that.”
El shook her head as she quickly rose to her feet, shoving an accusatory finger at Mike's chest. His gaze landed on her expression, broken.
“You are my boyfriend, you are supposed to be the one who cares and loves me the most. But you act as if I am just an after thought.” She shouts, Mike grimaced. He begins to attempt another apology again but El interrupts him.
“No. I am not done yet. Your apologies do not mean anything. You did not try to be better, and not only could you not tell me you loved me when I was dying. You needed someone else to tell you to say it.”
He bites his tongue as the memories start flooding back.
“El?”
“Eleven!”
Blood splutters on Mike's face coming from El as she coughs and heaves, fading out of consciousness.
“Help me get her out!” He yells as he frantically grabs her head and pools his arm under her back. The cold water trickling his skin, he slowly starts lifting her out of the tub; with the help of Jonathan and Argyle. Will slams himself on top of the kitchen rack; frantically swiping at whatever useless junk seated on it to make space for El. Mike, Jonathan, and Argyle quickly place Els' squirming body on the rack as they call out her name.
“El can you hear me?” Mike squeaks.
He feels a wet, yet comfortable grasp placed on his shoulder.
“Mike, don't stop. You're the heart, okay? Remember that. You're the heart!” Will quavered.
His eyes flickered between Will's features as he processes what he says; his expression mixed with worry and something else he can't quite name. Mike's head quickly snaps back at El when he hears her choking.
He's telling Mike to motivate El into fighting. Okay, he can do that. He doesn't know what to tell her, until he remembers what she's always wanted to hear. Okay.. He can't do that? For some reason it's always felt.. Well wrong. He doesn't understand why, because he does, he does love El. He clears his throat trying to get the right words out.
“El, I don't know if you can hear this but, I want you to know I'm here, okay? I'm right here.”
Mike's stalling, trying to brace himself to say it.
Maybe if I tell her I'm here that'll be enough.
Well It doesnt work, El is still wriggling under his grip.
Guilt is gnawing at his throat.
El is fighting, fighting so hard and he can't tell her he loves her.
He looks back at Will, hoping he’d somehow understand his inner turmoil and add on to what he just said, but Will doesn't. His face filled with worry as he eyes Mike, then looking back at El, then at him again. As if to get him to continue, to nudge him into telling her ‘it’.
Mike silently understands and looks back at El, squeezing her soaked freezing hand. It's what he needs to do, he can get over his trivial nauseating feeling and worry about it another day. El needs him. And he isn't going to let his insignificant insecurities get in the way.
“I- I love you El!” His voice cracked horribly, as if it was mocking at him for the blatant lie he just spat out. He shoved that idea; a very wrong, twisted, and not true, idea into the back of his mind as he continued.
“Eleven, can you hear me? I love you. I'm sorry I don't say it more.” There's at least one truth in there, he really is sorry. He hates himself for not being able to say it. It's not like he doesn't try. He practiced telling it to himself in the mirror, ‘I love you Eleven.’. Yet when he tries telling her in person, its like- like his mouth breaks. His vocal cords are completely unable to even form that combination of words to her if she's in the vicinity.
“And you're not a monster, I've never been afraid! Never. But I am afraid one day you won't need me anymore.”
Wow. Selfish, he's so so selfish.
This is supposed to motivate El into fighting, and now his self pity is pouring out like water and he can't stop it.
“And if I somehow said it, then the day that’d happen would hurt more. It would hurt so much more.”
El's voice snaps him out of the memory and he's back to being to reality. Standing in the middle of El’s room like a piece of furniture that doesn't belong there.
“You do not understand how hurt I was, Mike.” She slowly let her hand curl up into a fist and put a hand on his shoulder. “We are breaking up.”
Mike was always dense, but he wasnt that brainless to understand he fucked up. He didn't mean to hurt El, actually; he didn't even realize how shitty he actually was acting until now. From his eyes he was being a decent boyfriend, he did everything he was supposed to do. He hung out with her, he kissed her, he… He did what he thought she wanted.
Sometimes it feels like no matter what he does, it's never right.
“I-I didn't mean to make you feel that way.” His vision starts blurring. Fuck. He quickly shifts his head to the side and claws at his tears, hoping that’d help whatever dignity he had left.
He needs air, fresh air.
“Im- sorry, I... Uh- bye, Ill go now” He stammers slowly backing up, avoiding looking at her face.
He finally exhaled, not realizing he's been holding his breath. Mike reached for the door and basically bolted out her room. He glide through the living area, then the kitchen; nearly tripping over a box of Eggos. Fuck.
He was right. El doesn't need him. He was right all along.
That ends up triggering more tears; and now his hands are fully shielding his face.
He snatches the door open and runs out the cabin, rushing to get his bike. The bike slips out his grasp as he tries to mount it.
“Fucking shit.” He scoffs, throwing his hands in the air.
He kicks off pedaling home, the route being engraved into his mind. He feels so guilty. Guilty for making El cry, for hurting her, for not loving her the way she wants. For god's sake, he couldn't even act like he did.
He can't even hate El for this, it's all his fault. El’s objectively the perfect girlfriend. She's pretty, she's sweet, she loves- loved him. He doesn't understand why he can't say ‘it’, because he really does care about her.
It's just, Mike gets queasy.
The same feeling that he gets when he's lying.
He feels icky, as if he's doing something very, very wrong.
It's Mike, he's just; wrong. Somehow. He can feel it. He feels the wrong things. El should make him feel warm, or fuzzy. Like when Lucas talks about his relationship with Max, he sounds so- engrossed with her. As if she's his sole purpose of living. Mike though, he does feel like he wants to protect El, but in the sense he does with everyone. He wants to protect Will, Lucas, Dustin, and Max too.
Comparing Lucas’s and Max’s relationship to his, they look so at ease with each other. It's not fair, they look so natural for each other; perfect even. Like two puzzle pieces made to fit with each other. But Mike is constantly thinking of the right thing to say. It doesn't come naturally with him. It just doesn't.
He tries to perfectly time his actions to look natural- loving. He holds Els' hand when it looks to be right. He kisses her. And he places himself near her when he thinks it's been too long.
Usually he chalks it up to him not being used to having an intimate relationship with someone due to how his parents act with each other. Always fighting, snapping at each other at any minor inconvenience. But it's not that. He knows what a ‘normal’ relationship should look like. For gods sake his own sister is in one. Raised by the same family he was. So why is he so different?
Mike pulls the sleeve of his jacket down, accidentally swerving the bike from the sudden movement, and swipes the tears running down his cheeks. He finally exhaled, realizing he's been holding his breath for god knows how long.
The worst part is, he isn't crying over the fact he's been broken up with, no. It's much more obscene than that. It's the realization that he feels… Relieved. Like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. And that's what makes it sting harder.
He's truly the worst boyfriend, friend- no person in the world.