Chapter Text
18 months later
Mike wakes up feeling strange. Not any specific emotion, just…strange.
He stares at the ceiling like he does every morning. It feels different today. It feels…wrong, somehow.
He furrows his eyebrows trying to figure out why.
Must be nerves, right? Graduation is today.
His eyes get stuck on the orange graduation gown hanging in his closet. He can only just see it peeking out from behind the almost-closed closet door.
Mike frowns. Didn't his closet get destroyed when Holly was taken?
Well, they would have fixed it, right? It's been 18 months, after all.
Time has been weird. It's like that final battle against Vecna was yesterday, and yet it feels like a lifetime ago. Every day has felt the same for a long time now. Strangely boring. Strangely…devoid of emotion. Grey, if emotions were colours.
It must be because of how adrift Mike has been feeling, he thinks. He’s been involved with the supernatural side of Hawkins since he was 12. No, was involved – Mike has to keep reminding himself that it’s over. Now that it’s all done for good, he doesn’t really know what to do with himself.
Who is Mike, if not the Party Leader? Who is he, if not Will’s protector? If not to help save the world, what is his purpose?
If he’s honest, he doesn’t know how to exist without the fight. Without the Upside Down. What does a soldier do, when he’s won the war?
He’s been left feeling lost and endlessly waiting for the other shoe to drop. After all the times he’s fought for his life, fought for his friends’ lives, simply dealing with only high school feels like a very mundane existence.
It feels strangely impossible. Like a boring life leaves Mike useless. Because it feels like all his skills are related to the battle against Vecna. Without it, what is he good for?
Whatever. It’s over. He’s just having trouble accepting that. Which is probably unhealthy, he thinks.
Then again. They’ve thought it was over before. And then Will got possessed. The next time they thought that, Billy got possessed. Next time, months later, Owens took El to deal with Vecna.
Mike has been having a hard time believing that they’re safe. That he’s safe. That Will is safe. He just can’t shake this feeling that something isn’t right.
Might be PTSD or something. Maybe he should talk to someone.
Mike sighs, and with a massive effort, he sits up on his bed. His eyes find the painting hanging on his wall like gravity. The dragon. The Party’s D&D characters. His paladin’s shield with the purple heart on it.
El's painting.
A fresh wave of loss washes over him, so he averts his eyes. That cursed painting has done nothing but hurt him every time he's looked at it the past 18 months, but he can't bring himself to move it. Will gave it to him, and everything Will gives him is precious.
And it's from El. He doesn't have much of her left. Nothing but memories of one last conversation for just the two of them.
Mike frowns.
It doesn’t make sense, though.
Because – the Void. El wouldn’t have done that.
Like, she was literally physically incapable of it, because of that stupid technology the military had.
But also, she really wouldn’t have done that. She’s not the only one who has fought for her to have a life – a real, normal life. And now, she just gave up on it? For what?
Mike doesn’t understand.
Which is the point, isn’t it? She said he could help the others understand. But he hasn’t been able to do that. Because he doesn’t understand her choice himself.
He can’t understand any of El’s last choices.
Why would she talk to Mike of all people? They broke up. She broke up with him, less than three months after Lenora. In the Void, he was too panicked in the moment – and taken aback by her kissing him out of nowhere – but he's thinking about the interaction now.
And it doesn’t make sense.
Unless she was trying to send a message that something is wrong? But – then she would’ve just told him, right? No one can hear them in the Void, so why not be direct about it?
Something is wrong. That wasn’t El.
Sure, Mike and El had been getting along as friends, but – there are people she would’ve been much more likely to speak to, right?
They'd been broken up for well over a year, so why the hell would she talk to him and not Hopper? Her dad, or her mom? Her brothers? Max, her best friend? Dustin, who she’d been spending far more time with than Mike in the last couple months she was still with them? Lucas, her friend?
Anyone. Anyone but her ex would have made more sense.
And why the hell did she kiss him, and say she loves him? In the last second. When she broke up with him?
El isn’t like that. She’s strong and independent. Which, sure, doesn’t mean she can never find love, or be grateful to Mike. But he knows she would never say it like that. Like it was all about him, somehow. She’s worth more to herself than that.
Max taught her to value herself. To see herself through her own lens, not just as what Mike or Hopper see her as. And now, years later, Mike understands why that’s important. And he’s grateful to the redhead.
And if even he understands it, how come El learned that lesson and then somehow, in her last moments, ignored it?
Why did she claim he always understood her, when they both know that isn’t true? In fact, it’s part of the reason they’re broken up. Why did she lie, the way Mike had lied at the pizza dough freezer?
She sounded so…off, somehow. Like she wasn’t herself. The whole thing was off. Mike can’t really explain it. But everything about the interaction was weird as hell.
He has the sudden urge to see her. In whatever way he can. He needs to talk to her. Another wave of grief washes over him as he realizes she can’t talk back.
But he needs to talk anyway.
He rips his eyes away from the purple heart on the dragon painting, then stops. Does a double take.
Weird. He could have sworn that heart was red.
Okay. Whatever. Purple makes sense. El always liked purple. Makes sense she would ask for her colour to be represented for a heart on Mike’s shield. They were dating when she commissioned it, after all.
Mike gets up, walks to his closet. Ignores the graduation gown. Opens the door. Blinks.
Since when is his wardrobe so devoid of colour? Where did all the blue go?
Maybe Will took them with when he moved out. He did wear a lot of Mike’s clothes during those 18 months he lived in the Wheeler basement. He basically adopted half of Mike’s outfits.
Never mind. Mike will change into that stupid orange dress soon, anyway. So he grabs the nearest grey shirt and pulls it over his head after taking off his pyjamas. An equally grey hoodie covers it – he’s been strangely cold the last couple of months. He nearly falls over as he hops into faded jeans.
Sneaks downstairs – it’s early. Nobody is up yet. He tiptoes past where Ted Wheeler is fast asleep on the Lay-Z-Boy.
He makes it to the garage without waking his dad, and grabs his bike. Wait, why though? Couldn’t he just drive? He has his license, after all. He has memories of learning to drive.
But sentiment pulls him to his trusty old bike.
Mike is so lost in thought the whole way there he barely notices that he’s arrived. The path is familiar. He’s come here many times.
He narrows his eyes at the trees on the sidewalk across the street. The leaves are red and brown. Even though it’s summer. What?
Never mind. It’s probably some exotic type of tree that has a different leaf cycle than other trees. What does Mike know about botany, after all?
He locks his bike and sits down on the bench next to it. Stares at the memorial. He doesn’t move for a long time.
Then, despite being in public and probably looking quite crazy, he whispers out loud “El? Are you there? This is day-”
He breaks off. Realizes he has no idea how long it’s been. Well, he vaguely knows it’s been around 18 months. But-
It doesn’t really feel like it.
He doesn’t know what it does feel like, either. Time is a weird soup.
“I don’t really know what day it is. Or how many it’s been since you-” Mike sighs, trying to hold back tears. “Since you did what you did.”
He stays silent for a moment. He wants to talk to her. He has so much to say, and yet has no idea what to tell her.
Decides to pretend he’s writing a letter. Regrets not bringing paper and a pen. He’s always been better at expressing the mess that is his feelings when he’s writing them down.
“Dear El.” He pauses. “I don’t know if you can hear this. I once would have said no, but now, after everything-” Mike sighs. “I don’t know anything anymore.”
Mike tries to think of what to say. Closes his eyes and imagines a blank page in front of him. Pretends he’s writing on it.
“I miss you. I miss-” He sniffles. “I miss seeing you smile. I miss your laughter. I miss you making fun of me with Max. I miss how easy you were to talk to.”
He takes a deep breath.
“I miss my friend.”
Mike can’t stop the tears filling his eyes.
“But I have a lot of questions.” He fidgets with the edges of his sleeves. “Why did you talk to me? That day? Why did you-”
He swallows thickly around the lump in his throat. “We were friends. I thought that you and Dustin were beginning to- You know.”
He looks up at the memorial. All the noise of the people around him seems to have disappeared. They’re there, but Mike couldn’t care less right now.
“Which, you know, I support it, by the way. So I just thought that you two would…”
Mike trails off. Stays quiet for a moment.
“Why me?” His voice breaks. “It feels like I was the only one who could have made you change your mind, I was the only one who had the chance. And I- And I couldn’t.”
Fuck, he’s crying in public. On the day of his graduation. That’s just perfect.
“It feels like that weight is on me now.” Deep breath. “Look, I understand feeling the need to-”
Mike pinches his nose, leaning forward, elbows digging into his knees. Trying to block out memories of what it felt like to stand on the cliff’s edge at the Quarry.
“To sacrifice yourself, I do. You know I do. You were there. But I don’t know-” Drops his arm to let it dangle over the edge of the bench. “What for. What you sacrificed yourself for. Why you did it. I mean I do, but just-”
He bites his lip to stop himself from sobbing.
“I just wish you’d talked to me. Or- or any of the others.” Pauses. “I mean, maybe you did, I don’t know. But you came to me. In the Void. So.”
Mike takes a grounding breath. It doesn’t feel it like it helps much.
“I don’t have superpowers, El. I can’t psychically pull you back up a cliff. And I can’t turn back time.” He wipes his tears on his sleeve before they can fall. “And it feels unfair. That you saved me, but I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry.”
Mike squeezes his eyes shut as if he can block out the pain of it all. Of the loss in his heart.
“It just hurts.” Tears blur his vision. “That you’re gone.”
He stays silent for a moment.
“I think about it all the time. Could I have said something different? Should I have said something earlier, seen something earlier? Could I have changed your mind? Should I have-”
The force of a realisation hits him like a bullet train. His voice comes out a heavy whisper.
“If I hadn’t built that bomb, would you still be here?”
Grief poisons his veins, the pain of it paralyzing him for a moment.
It’s my fault.
“You shouldn’t have to pay the price for my mistakes.”
Mike keeps his head down. Muffles his sobs with his hand. Hopes against all logic nobody can see him crying.
“It all feels wrong without you.” He stares ahead without seeing, eyelashes glued together by tears. “These past months, it’s all just felt…weird. It’s weird that we’re graduating and you’re not here.”
He studies the floor. Grey stone. Everything feels grey.
“You’re like- the person who deserved to live her own life the most. You and Will. So it’s just- Just feels wrong we’re all beginning our own, new lives, going off to college and shit, and you’re not going to do the same.”
Mike dries his eyes again and fidgets with his sleeves once more. Stays like that for what feels like an eternity.
“Anyway, umm- I just miss you. A lot.” He takes a deep breath, signing his imaginary letter. “Love, Mike.”
He sits there for a long time, feeling numb. Empty. Not finding the energy to move.
Finally, a new voice pulls Mike out of his spiral. “Hey, kid.” Hopper. “Thought I might find you here.”
Mike turns to the chief of police. He can’t find it in himself to be surprised, or any other emotion he would have otherwise felt towards the man. His voice sounds monotone as he responds. “Hey.”
Hopper just calmly walks up to him. “Mom’s freaking out. Can’t say I blame her, I mean-”
He sits down next to Mike. The raven-haired boy can’t bring himself to care.
“I don’t know if you remember, but we do have a history of kids going missing in this town.”
At that, finally, Mike feels something again. His head snaps towards the older man, venom in his voice.
“If I remember? It’s all I remember. It’s all I’ve known since I was 12!”
Oh, look. Mike is crying again. Yay!
He turns his head away from Hopper, whose voice is gentle and quiet. Like he’s trying not to scare a wild animal.
“Hey, I didn’t mean- Sorry.”
Mike sniffles, turning his head forwards again, staring at the grey floor once more. They stay quiet for a few moments.
“Why aren’t you with your friends?”
Mike lets the question hang in the air for several seconds.
“Scared.” One word is all he can manage to whisper. Then, he reluctantly follows up “Of change. More change.”
And yet, he knows he needs it. Because the way things are right now just isn’t right.
Hopper nods slowly. “I get that.”
Mike’s hands tighten into fists and he fights the urge to throw something, or to yell at Hopper that he could never understand.
Instead, he forces himself to relax and add “And I needed to talk to El. Tell her I’m sorry.”
Silence.
“Hey, you know this isn’t your fault, right?” Hopper is emotional, now, too. “What happened is not your fault. El made her choice.”
“What if she didn’t, though? What if it wasn’t her, or- or someone made her do it somehow?”
Mike knows it’s crazy. But his gut feeling is telling him that it wasn’t El. Wasn’t El who talked to him in the Void. Wasn’t El who sacrificed herself.
His heart sinks as he takes in Hopper’s sombre expression.
The man sighs. “Listen, kid. I know that it must be really hard, losing your girlfriend at 16.”
Wait, what?
Mike furrows his eyebrows, confused.
Girlfriend?
Does Hopper not know they’d broken up? Did he forget? Did El never tell him? But how can it be that he never heard about it? Their whole friend group knows. Did they all forget, too?
“The way I see it, you got two roads ahead of you. You got one road where you keep blaming yourself for what happened. You keep going over it in your head, what you could’ve done differently. You push people away, and you suffer, because that’s what you think you deserve.”
I do deserve it.
Mike is trying and failing to stop more tears from filling his eyes.
“And then there’s another road, where you find a way to accept what happened.”
Accept? Accept this as reality?
No.
Everything in Mike screams against the idea.
Nothing about this is okay. Nothing about this is fucking okay.
“Find a way to accept her choice. Doesn’t mean you gotta like it. Doesn’t mean you gotta understand it. And never think about it.”
When Mike glances at Hopper, he can see the chief of police is in tears too.
“You just accept it.”
Mike wants to scream.
Wants to scream that he can’t.
Won’t.
“And you live the best goddamn life you can.”
How the hell is Mike supposed to do that? After the way things panned out? After what happened with El? With Will? After there’s no more world to save? No purpose to fulfil?
Hopper sighs. “I’ve been down that first road before. I don’t recommend it.”
Every particle of Mike’s body seems to scream at him to defy the advice. To stand his ground, because what the hell does this guy know? What does he know, about what happened in the Void? What does he know, about losing someone he knew since he was 12? What does he know, about building the bomb that killed his friend?
Distantly, some rational part of his brain tells him that Hopper knows more than most about grief.
He can’t bring himself to care.
“And as for El – I think you know what she would have wanted for you.”
She would have wanted to live.
I hope.
Mike wants to break down. Curl up and cry in his closet.
But he knows he can’t do that right now. His friends would worry. And they all fought hard to graduate, in the wake of all the tragedy around them.
Besides. He told El what he needed to say, at least for right now. He can always come back and add something, right?
The fake smile and the nod he gives the chief of police is one of the most painful things he’s had to do in a while. Probably since that conversation with Will on the Squawk tower. It goes against every instinct Mike has, but he needs Hopper to stop trying to talk to him right now.
Surprisingly, it works.
Hopper rests a hand on Mike’s shoulder, and he fights the urge to shrug it off.
Because it all feels like one big lie.
It all feels like a lie.