Chapter Text
The only sound in the dim, warm room was the soft, synced rhythm of their breathing. The lamp on Mike’s nightstand was dialed down to its lowest setting, casting long, dancing shadows across the walls and painting their skin in hues of gold and amber.
Mike leaned back against the headboard, his skin cool against the worn wood. El was settled in the cradle of his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist, her chest pressed flush against his, the steady, strong beat of his heart a drum against her own. Her arms were looped around his neck, her fingers occasionally tracing the fine hairs at his nape.
They were skin to skin, the fine sheen of sweat from their earlier passion cooling now into a gentle, intimate dampness. Mike had the house alone, so they got advantage of that.
His hands were in constant, gentle motion, one splayed wide on the small of her back, holding her firmly to him as if she might dissolve into air, the other tracing lazy, nonsensical patterns up and down the graceful curve of her spine. Her own fingers played with the damp curls at the nape of his neck, occasionally drifting down to skim over the slope of his shoulders.
His eyes, dark and wide, were locked on hers. He didn’t blink, afraid that even that momentary darkness might steal a detail. He was drinking her in, trying to brand this image onto his soul: the way the soft light gilded the edges of her curls, still damp at the tips from the sweat of their lovemaking; the faint, silvery lines of old scars that he now knew by touch as well as by sight.
Her own gaze was just as intense, just as devoted. Her right hand cradled his jaw, her thumb stroking the line of his cheekbone with a delicacy that made him shudder. Her other hand was a gentle explorer, mapping the familiar yet newly fascinating landscape of his face. She traced the arch of his eyebrows, the stubborn set of his jaw, the bow of his upper lip, his freckles. Her fingertips whispered over his eyelids, and he closed them for a moment, feeling the sensation magnified a thousand times in the darkness. When he opened them again, her eyes were waiting.
After a small eternity of this silent worship, the corners of her mouth lifted. It was a small, private smile, one that started in her eyes and slowly bloomed across her entire face. Mike felt an answering smile spread across his own, an involuntary reflex to her joy.
Then, a sound. A soft, breathy giggle escaped her lips, a sound so purely happy it seemed to make the very air in the room sparkle.
Mike’s smile grew wider, a real, unguarded grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “What?” he whispered, his voice husky from disuse and emotion.
El’s gaze dropped to his mouth for a second before returning to his eyes. “I just like the way you look at me.”
His heart, which had been beating a steady, contented rhythm against her chest, gave a hard, painful thump. The smile on his face softened into something more vulnerable, more raw.
“I can’t help it,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. He brought one hand up from the small of her back to cradle her cheek, his thumb stroking the high apple of it with a reverence that made her want to weep. “I just… I need to memorize you like this.”
Her eyes fluttered open a little wider. “Like what?”
“Like this,” he said, his gaze sweeping over every detail of her face as if he were describing a masterpiece. “Happy. Safe. Here. With me.” He swallowed, the motion a visible tremor in his throat. “I don’t ever want to forget a single second of this. Of you, right now.”
He saw her eyes glisten, and for a terrifying second, he thought he’d made her sad. But then she spoke, her voice clear and certain.
“I am happy, Mike,” she said. The words were simple, profound, and utterly true.
He smiled, a little watery himself. “Yeah?”
“I am really happy,” she emphasized, her voice gaining strength, filled with a wonder that echoed his own.
The words felt inadequate, a clumsy tool to describe the universe of feeling inside her chest. And so, words failed her. Instead, she surged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and burying her face in the crook where his shoulder met his neck.
He immediately enveloped her, his arms strong and sure around her back, holding her as if he could physically fuse her to him. He turned his face into her hair, pressing a long, desperate kiss to her temple.
They stayed like that for a long time, just breathing each other in. His breath stirred the fine hairs at her temple; hers was a warm caress on his skin. In that embrace, two years of separation, of frantic searching, of sleepless nights and choked-back sobs, collapsed into nothing. There was no past of empty beds and silent walkie-talkies, no frightening future of unknown threats. There was only the perfect, breathtaking present. The solid weight of her in his arms. The proof.
Slowly, as if by unspoken agreement, they relaxed back into their previous position, but the embrace had shifted something, deepened the connection even further. The silent mapping resumed, their hands speaking the language their words sometimes struggled with.
El rested her palms flat on his chest, feeling the frantic, galloping rhythm of his heart against her skin. It was beating so fast, a wild, joyful drum.
“It’s fast,” she murmured, her voice a husky whisper in the quiet room.
Mike let out a soft, self-conscious chuckle. “Yeah, well,” he breathed, covering her hand with his own, pressing it more firmly against his heart. “You do that to me. You’ve always done that to me.”
El’s smile returned, brighter this time. She leaned in and captured his lips with hers in a kiss that was not about hunger, but about affirmation. It was soft, and slow, and tasting of shared breath and unspoken promises. It deepened for a moment, a spark of the earlier passion flickering to life, but they pulled back, not ready to leave this quiet, vulnerable time just yet.
Mike’s eyes roamed over her face, down the column of her throat, over the graceful slope of her shoulders, and along the curves of her body settled in his lap. His hands followed his gaze, sliding from her back to her sides, his thumbs stroking the delicate dip of her waist, the gentle flare of her hips. He looked at her as if she were the first sunrise after a long, polar night.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, the words falling from his lips like a prayer.
A faint blush rose on her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. She held his gaze, letting him see her, all of her.
He shook his head slightly, as if struggling to comprehend it. “I feel like… I feel like I’m holding the whole world right now.” His voice was thick with emotion. He looked directly into her eyes, his own blazing with a fierce, undeniable truth. “You are my whole world, El.”
He took a shaky breath, his hands tightening on her hips, his expression turning earnest, determined. “I want to give you the world. I’m going to give you the world. A normal life. Dumb, boring, perfect days. Everything you ever missed. Everything you deserve.”
El’s heart swelled until she thought it might burst. She framed his face with her hands, forcing him to see the truth in her own eyes. “Mike,” she said, her voice firm and gentle. “You don’t have to give me anything.”
“But I want to,” he insisted, his passion bleeding into his words. “You deserve every good thing. Ice cream for breakfast, and stupid movies, trips to anywhere you want, and a stupid little house with a stupidly perfect picket fence. You deserve all of it. After everything…” His voice cracked. “After everything you’ve given everyone else. You deserve to just get things. To just be happy.”
Tears finally spilled over onto her cheeks, but she was still smiling. “You already gave me everything,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You gave me my name. You gave me your coat. You gave me a home. You gave me… you.” She pressed her forehead against his, closing her eyes, their breath mingling. “You are my everything. That is enough. This is enough. You are enough.”
They stayed like that, foreheads pressed together, for a long time. The world outside, Hawkins with its secrets and its scars, didn’t exist. There was only this.
When Mike finally pulled back, his eyes were searching hers again, but a shadow had passed over them. The undeniable joy was still there, but it was now tinged with a fear so profound it made his hands tremble where they rested on her.
“I still can’t believe you’re here,” he whispered, and the tone was different now. It wasn’t wonderment; it was the fragile voice of a boy who had been broken by loss.
He didn’t say the other part. He didn’t have to. El had heard it before, in the dead of night when he’d woken from a nightmare, clutching her so tightly it almost hurt. “I'm so scared I'm going to close my eyes and you'll be gone. I'm scared you are just a dream my mind made up because it can't handle you being gone.”
She knew. She understood that fear because it lived inside her, too—the fear of waking up back in the cold, sterile silence of the lab, of finding that this warmth, this love, was just a fantasy her tortured mind had concocted.
She didn’t offer him empty words. Instead, she took his right hand in hers. She brought it up, pressing his palm flat against her chest, right over her heart. A strong, steady, living rhythm against his skin.
With her other hand, she cupped his cheek, her thumb wiping away a tear he hadn’t even felt escape.
“I am right here,” she said, each word a solid, tangible thing. “Feel me. I am right here.”
The dam broke then. Mike’s face crumpled. A sob tore from his throat, raw and aching. He tried to turn his head away, ashamed of the strength of his emotion, but she held him fast, her gaze unwavering.
“Don’t leave again,” he choked out, the words ragged and desperate. He looked back at her, his eyes pleading, all his defenses gone, leaving just the raw, terrified core of him. “Please.” It was a single syllable, broken and small, a child’s prayer in the dark.
The sound of it shattered her. Her own tears fell freely now, but her voice was steady.
“I won’t,” she vowed, leaning in until their noses brushed. “I am not going anywhere.”
“Promise,” he begged, his voice cracking on the word.
“Promise,” she said without a moment’s hesitation. She sealed it with a kiss, soft and lingering against his lips. “I promise, Mike. I’m home.”
He collapsed into her then, his body shaking with the force of his relief, his face buried in her neck. She held him, one hand in his hair, the other still pressing his hand to her heart, letting him feel the undeniable, physical proof of her promise. She rocked him gently, whispering soothing sounds into his ear, until his sobs subsided into shaky breaths, and then into a deep, calm stillness.
He finally lifted his head, his eyes red-rimmed but clear. He looked at her—really looked at her—and the love in his gaze was so immense, so all-encompassing, that El felt her breath catch.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He simply leaned forward and kissed her again. The lamp on the bedside table flickered once.
Mike’s hands began to move again, his touch now infused with a new certainty, a new peace. He traced the shell of her ear, the line of her jaw, the pulse beating steadily at the base of her throat.
He worshipped her not as a fragile thing to be protected, but as a force of nature he was humbled and honored to stand beside.
El’s explorations became bolder, too. She slid her hands over his shoulders. She traced the bumps of his ribs, the flat plane of his stomach.
The air between them began to shift once more, the tender embers of their earlier passion gently stoked back to life by the slow, deliberate dance of their hands. There was no frantic urgency, only a deep, swelling wave of connection. A silent question asked with a look, and answered with a slow, trusting nod.
He lowered her onto the sheets, never breaking eye contact. The world outside was still dark, still silent. And as the first pale light of dawn began to blush at the edges of the window blinds, Mike finally let his eyes close, sleep pulling him under.
He could feel the solid weight of her in his arms, the steady whisper of her breath against his neck. He held her, and he knew.. She was here. And she was home.