Chapter Text
Mike quietly enters the bathroom at the WSQK and slowly shuts the door, making sure no one hears him. He just wants a moment to breathe, and process everything that has happened in the last 24-48 hours? He doesn't even know how longs it's been since everything went to shit.
He lets out a slow, shaky sigh as he stares at his reflection in the mirror of the dimly lit bathroom. He takes a moment to study his face. There's dark circles under his eyes- probably from the lack of sleep after how many's hours. Grim and dirt caked onto his face after everything that had happened at the military base (another shit show that he has yet to fully process).
He drags his eyes down to the bottom half of his face, letting out another sigh he lift his fingers to his lips as he inspects them. They're red and have scab wounds from when he was bitting on them subconsciously at the hospital.
The hospital.
The thought causes him to freeze, and yank his hand back from his lips as if it had burned him. The hospital where his parents are at right now.
He lets out a small, shaky sigh that almost comes out as a small sob.
And suddenly everything is wrong.
The light is too bright- even though it's dimmed from not being replaced after a certain amount of time. His vision is blurry from unshed tears, his heart is pounding so loud he can hear it in his ears. His breath comes out as small, shaky gasps as he struggles to breathe. He can’t breathe.
His thoughts are running too fast for him to control. The hospital. The way he watched his mom being dragged into surgery- unconscious and half-alive. Holly's missing. The way Will's voice sounded when he said that the demogorgon was coming after them. Them. His family. His little sister. And the thoughts just continue to eat away at him.
He slowly backs up and hits the wall, as his legs shake as they start to give out. He slumps down to the floor as tears start streaming down his face.
He lets out a sob, and quickly brings his hand to his mouth to silence his cries.
He doesn't know how many minutes have passed but slowly but surely, he manages to control his breathing and starts to calm down. As he takes deep breaths he brings his hand down from his face and places them on his knees that are resting close to his chest.
He stays like that for however long then he slowly stands up when his breathing is more even, the tears have stopped streaming down his face, and his thoughts aren't as loud.
He drags himself to the mirror once more and looks at what stares back at him.
His eyes are puffy and red-rimmed from the crying, his lips are red from where he had apparently been bitting them. He didn't even feel it. And his hair is a little disheveled.
He brings up a shaky hand and tries to tame his curls the best he can. After he's satisfied, he turns on the faucet and rinses his face with cold water.
His looks at his reflection again and checks his face, his hair isn't as messy and his face isn't puffy anymore so he deems that a win. His eyes are still red-rimmed but he doesn't think anyone would notice so he doesn't dwell on it too much.
He straightens up and lets out a sigh, he grabs a towel from the bottom drawer of the sink and dries his face off. He sets the towel down and then begins to leave the bathroom.
As he reaches the door handle he hesitates.
Taking a slow, deep breath he opens the door and turns off the light before stepping out and slowly shutting the door.
And then he tries to appear as 'fine' as he can be.
Because he's fine.
He's totally fine.