Chapter Text
The drop was far. Far, though less daunting than the last time Mike had found himself here, toeing the line between solid ground and free falling. He looked past his ratty converse, past the cliff's edge, all the way down to the green water of the quarry.
A mixtape of conflicting emotions looped through Mike.
He imagined taking the step forward. He had done it once… though circumstances were different then. Before he was brave, now he just felt stupid. What would his friends think if they saw him here? Would they be disappointed? Would they be sad? Would they even care at all?
With a deep exhale Mike took a step back and roughly threw himself onto the ground, gravel and rocks digging into his skin through his jeans. Later, his mother would probably complain about the dirt on his jeans but that didn’t really seem like an issue. Karen was always mad, that was typical. Mike was always giving her something to be mad about. He shook his head, pursing his lips.
So fucking stupid, he thought.
This wasn’t the first time Mike had found himself at the quarry’s edge. Not even the second or third or sixth time. Mike thought to himself that if the cliff was a restaurant, he’d be considered a regular. He picked at his fingertips, already shredded and red.
Mike…..
The hairs on the back of his neck raised as a chill ran through him.
Behind him, his backpack cracked to life.
“-ike. Miiiiikkkeeee.” Dustin’s voice called from the walkie talkie in Mike’s bag. “Michael, if you can hear me right now I need you to come in.”
Mike rolled his eyes, shaking the crawling feeling from his spine. Michael? Nobody called him that but his father.
“Mike, please. You’re late, man,” Dustin continued, voice crackling.
With a huff, Mike stood. Reaching his bike and backpack he pulled out the walkie. He extended the antenna and Dustin’s voice rang clear.
“Eddie is going to kill you.”
“Well I doubt that.” Mike rolled his eyes for his audience of noone.
“MIKE! Finally, I’ve been calling you forever. Are you on your way? Over.” Dustin sounded exasperated.
“Actually… I don’t think I’m going to make it tonight. I’ve felt sick all day long and I just don’t think it’s a good idea for me to come tonight. Over.” He threw in a couple fake coughs for realism.
Dustin replied while Mike dusted off his jeans and hopped onto his bike. “Seriously? Is that why you weren’t in school today?”
Mike felt guilty for lying. “Uhhh.. yeah, yeah. I’ve been in bed all day.” But not guilty enough to not stop.
Dustin took a few moments to respond. Mike almost didn’t think he was going to.
“...Okay, Mike. Well I wish you were here but if you’re sick then you’re sick. I hope you feel better…. Over.”
Guilt stirred in Mike’s chest. The feeling overcame Mike as he reached his destination. His bike crashed to the ground as he stumbled toward Castle Byers. A week after the Byers had moved, Mike found Will’s old castle. It had been a destroyed heap of sticks and random treasures then. Now, it stood, not quite returned to its former glory, but close enough that Mike sought shelter there often. Anything to feel closer to will.
Oh, Will….
God, if Will even knew that Mike had joined a new party he would be so disappointed. All Will had wanted last summer was to play D&D. And what had Mike done? He ignored him! Ignored his best friend and basically called him a crying baby!
The feeling in Mike's chest stirred faster and faster.
For a while Mike just laid there, curled into himself like a poorly armored armadillo. After a while the heavy guilt in his chest eased. Not fully, never fully, but enough that Mike could stand to sit up and look at the space around him.
With his index finger he lightly traced the outline of his friends on an old photograph. When Mike had found Castle Byers he had also found the torn photograph. Though he had taped it back together, the rift between him and Will was still visible. Looking at him stirred the guilt back up in his chest like sand shifting in water. The rip in the photo was like a metaphor for their relationship in real life.
He couldn’t stand it anymore, Mike needed to focus on something other than the pit of guilt inside him. From his backpack he produced an Altoids tin. Inside was a little gift from Eddie. Two, if you consider the lighter.
Though he wasn’t confident, Mike thought Eddie would not be too upset that he hadn’t shown up to Hellfire tonight. Eddie would understand in a way that Dustin just wouldn’t.
The truth was, Dustin didn’t understand the dynamic between Eddie and Mike, the bond they shared. And Mike didn’t think he could bear it if Dustin found out. The shame would eat him alive- as if it wasn’t already gnawing on his heart.
Shame, guilt, shame, guilt. Mike’s heart was a revolving door and no matter which way he tried to exit he always ended up with the same feeling trapping him inside himself. Time spent with Eddie offered a sort of pause to it all. Not that Eddie was freeing Mike from the vicious cycle, but more that he was willing to hop into the doorway and join Mike while he spun out for a while.
And it helped that Eddie had access to weed. Though he was ashamed of it, smoking helped put Mike at ease. It’s difficult to be stressed when you can’t even remember what you were stressed about.
When he finished his gift, Mike tossed the butt into the corner of the Castle. A small pile had begun to build up. A testament to all the lunches Mike had skipped in order to save his money. Eddie gave Mike a “friendly discount” but Mike chose to skip the lunches anyway. There were very few things Mike could control about his life but whether or not he ate lunch was something he did have control over.
Stretching, Mike pulled a walkman out of his backpack. Sliding a cassette into the player and his headphones over his ears, Mike hit the play button. Immediately the synth of “Smalltown Boy” by Bronski Beat began to play. Mike could feel the music in his body. He rose to his feet and began to dance by himself. Mike closed his eyes, letting the song fuel his muscles and guide his feet.
Run away, turn away, run away..
For five minutes he felt good. He rewound the tape and hit play.
Run away, turn away, run away
Run away, turn away..
Alone in Castle Byers, Mike danced until the high wore off and he was left feeling exhausted.
Eventually Mike checked his watch. “Shit.” It was nearly 9:40 pm. Karen would be wondering where he was by now.
Picking up his bike, Mike jumped onto the seat. The light in front of his bike did little to light his path through the woods. After only a minute or two of riding, the front tire of his bike hitched on a root or fallen branch, throwing Mike over his handle bars. He landed roughly on his arm. Though the crunch wasn't a break, there was definitely something wrong with Mike’s left wrist.
Mike moaned and groaned, rolling onto his back. He gripped his left wrist with his other hand, wincing. Attempting to stand he slipped back down, catching himself with his hands by instinct.
“SHIT!” he shouted to the trees. “Holy shit that hurts. Okay,” he breathed out. With better balance this time he stood again. He decided to walk his bike the rest of the way out of the woods, beginning to bike again only once he was on a paved road.
By the time he reached home the pain in his wrist had dulled to an ache. He parked his bike in the open garage, closing the door as he made his way into the house.
Ted Wheeler sat snoring in his la-z-boy in front of the TV. The rest of the house seemed silent so Mike made his way upstairs. Light peeked under the door of Nancy’s room while the other rooms lay silent.
He couldn’t lie to himself that he was a bit saddened by the fact that nobody noticed he hadn’t made it home yet. Not that he wanted his mother to yell at him for being late or fuss over his wrist, he just… wished there was any notice of his absence at all.
Nancy spent most nights up late working on the school paper. Sometimes Mike imagined himself knocking on her door. He imagined her inviting him in to sit on her bed and talk while she worked. Mike wondered what they would talk about if he did. Maybe the monsters that had stolen so much from them? How much they missed the Byers family and selfishly wished they had never moved? Or maybe they could chat like normal siblings about how he had failed his last science test and about what she was writing for the paper.
He never did knock though. Nancy would probably just get mad at him for disturbing her.
Instead, Mike made a b-line for his own room, shutting the door silently behind him. He quickly changed out of his dirt smeared clothes. The effort to peel the layers from his body made him wince. His wrist was swelling a bit and beginning to bruise.
Though he really hadn’t done much with his day besides ditching his friends and dancing by himself, Mike was exhausted. He crawled into bed and pulled the covers all the way up to his neck. While skipping lunch left him with money to spend on other things, he had also found that recently he was cold all the time. Shivering slightly and hugging his swelling wrist, Mike eventually fell into a fitful sleep.
Somewhere behind Mike a clock was chiming. The loud dong echoed through his skull. He stood in the hallway of his high school wondering, Since when does the bell sound like that?
Turning to face the sound, Mike was met with a familiar face. It was a face Mike could recognize anywhere. Green eyes and brown bangs, a warm smile and a laugh that warmed his chest. Dressed in a Hellfire shirt, Will stood staring at Mike. He was not smiling now.
“Will,” Mike breathed his name. “What- what are you doing here? Where did you get that shirt?”
Will opened his mouth, a loud chime escaping his lips rather than words. He began to turn away from Mike.
“Hey, wait.” Mike put his hand on Will’s shoulder. “Will, come on. Where are you going?”
Will shook off Mike’s hand and kept walking. Mike tried to follow him but for some reason his feet stayed planted. Panic began to rise in Mike's chest.
“Will! Will come back!”
Mike was powerless, trapped to stand back while Will walked away from him. Mike couldn’t handle the sight. Tears streamed down his face as he tugged at his legs. No matter how hard he pulled, his feet stayed planted on the ground. All he could do was watch as Will got away from him again.
All he ever did was lose Will.
He sank to his knees and sobbed as the clocks’ incessant chiming grew louder and louder until it was the only thing Mike could focus on at all.