Chapter Text
"Mike…" There's a voice somewhere. Far off, distant, grating at the edges of his consciousness. This is something important. Mike just can't quite remember why.
"MIKE!" It's louder this time, more urgent. An edge of desperation and something else. Upset, maybe? Or even…
"MICHAEL WHEELER IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ARSE DOWN THESE STAIRS RIGHT NOW I WILL LET HOLLY EAT YOUR BREAKFAST." Mikes eye's shoot open, letting sleeps grip linger for just a second. He was dreaming of something, something nice maybe? Something important. He tries to catch onto the last few threads coursing through his mind, but to no avail. It's like catching water in your palm, slipping before it even fills.
"COMING!" Mike shoots back, too much attitude to really justify, but sue him. He doesn't particularly enjoy being woken up this early.
He throws off his star wars themed duvet and pulls on the closest pair of pants he can find. He can see yesterdays lasagna staining the thigh, red and dripping down towards his knee. He knows his mom will shout at him for it later, and makes a mental note to throw them in the wash after breakfast. They'll have to do for now though.
He races down the stairs towards the sound of chatter from the kitchen.
"ugh you didn't actually have to come." Holly says, pulling a tongue, fork already outstretched towards the bacon on his plate.
Instead of justifying her with a response he sticks his tongue out back, pulling his plate of bacon and pancakes closer to him as he sits down.
"Michael. Don't be immature." Ted drawls from the head of the table, face half covered by the morning newspaper.
Mike rolls his eyes, muttering a half hearted sorry, before tucking into his bacon.
Karen is still at the stove, cooking Ted what appears to be his second batch of breakfast. Her grip on the pan is tight, white knuckled, and she doesn't so much as flinch when the hot bacon fat spits out and lands on her forearm.
"Oh Mike," she says, half distracted. "Would you mind walking Holly to school today? I'd do it myself but I've got to rush out."
"Don't know why Ted can't do it." Mike mumbles around a pancake. At the same time as Holly exclaims,
"I'm 9 mom. I can walk myself."
Karen Wheeler sighs and shakes her head.
"I know Hols, but I'd just feel better if you went with Mike." There's something deeper there, something innate, unspoken. Mike can't quite put his finger on it, but he knows there's more to it than Karen is letting on.
Mike sighs, finishing off the last piece of bacon.
"I'll take her. It's fine. I'm meeting with the party after so it's not that big of a deal."
"Are they coming round again?" Karen asks
"No. We're meeting at Dustin's this time."
Karen hums. "Well, don't be back too late."
Mike rolls his eyes.
. . .
Dustin's house is quiet. It always has been. Quiet in that homely sort of way, in the way you find yourself missing when surrounded by a family who doesn't quite know how to get along.
Ted Wheeler is quiet too, but it's a different sort of silence. The silence here is noticing, warm. Ted Wheeler's silence is absent. Cold.
Mike's always preferred Dustin's house, and he thinks the rest of the party is in agreement. It feels almost untouched in a way the other's don't. Ever since, well, he doesn't like to dwell, but it's nice to be somewhere that feels normal, still. Even after all that's happened.
Lucas and Max arrive next, still smiling. Max is leaning on a crutch, and Lucas is letting her limp just faster than he walks. She's still not fully recovered, but she's a lot better than she was, and the nurses say that she should be back to walking without help in a year or so. Any progress is still progress, Mike thinks, absently.
Jane is the last to arrive. Mike still thinks she's beautiful, in an absent sort of way, like the way one might admire the sun, or a bouquet. Breaking up was the best thing that's happened to their relationship, and really, Mike wouldn't have it any other way.
Jane smiles at them, warm, and it lights up the room. The fire seems to burn just that bit brighter, and the lights feel just that bit warmer. She walks over and sits herself next to Dustin and Max. Grinning at something Max said, whilst Lucas chuckles from the side.
"Alright alright." Lucas says, still beaming. Mike's eyes linger on the way he never lets go of Max's hand, like he's scared of losing her again, like if he lets go she'll vanish, and he'll wake up again at the side of her hospital bed.
"Now that we're all here, Dustin has a special announcement." Lucas waggles his eyebrows, and Mike smiles fondly.
Dustin reaches over and shoves Lucas. Not hard, just teasing, and rolls his eyes.
"What is it Dustin?" Jane asks, tilting her head to the side.
Dustin coughs, cheeks flushing slightly pink. "Well, err, see."
The party looks at him, eagerly.
"Spit it out Dusty Bun." Says Max, grinning wickedly from where she's slouched against Jane.
"Stacey. You guys know Stacey right? Yeah well Stacey invited me- us… to her party this weekend. If like, you guys want to go?"
"oooooh~ Dustin's got a crushhh~" Max singsongs, teasing.
Dustin responds by throwing a cushion from the sofa at her head.
"Shut up Max no I do not." Dustin grumbles. "Anyway aren't we too old to be making fun of each other like that? You're literally in a relationship Max."
"Hey I was in a coma for like, ever. Give a girl some slack ok?"
"You cannot keep using the coma excuse."
"Yes I can the fuck?"
"You used it the other day to call shotgun for what, the literal hundredth time?"
Max fake gasps. "Wow, just say you hate me Dusty cakes." There's no malice there really, and Mike can't help but smile as he catches Lucas's exasperated eye roll as he tunes out their bickering.
He doesn't particularly like parties, but it might be a nice excuse to go out and get drunk. Mike doesn't drink often, too afraid of turning into Karen in that aspect, but that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy it, the way it numbs. It makes it easier to forget, things. The what ifs, the could have beens.
"So are you in or not?"
Dustin and Max have seemingly finished bickering, the shit eating grin on Max's face telling him all needs to know. He almost regrets tuning out for a second. Almost.
"I'm in" Lucas says.
"Yeah sure. If Lucas is there I'm there. Plus I want to meet this little crush of yours Dustin." Max smirks.
"I will go too!" Jane says, and Max whoops, high fiving her.
"Mike?" Asks Dustin. Something hardens in his eyes, almost afraid. Mike hates that, how they're all careful around him now, as though he's something fragile. As though he could break at one incorrect word.
Mike sighs. "Yeah. I'll be there. What time?"
Dustin beams. "The party's back together again. I'm going to kick ALL your asses at beer pong just you wait." Mike flinches, barely noticeable. Just for a second.
Max looks as though she's about to retort when Jane speaks first.
"What's beer pong?"
Max grins, and starts going off into a spiel, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, but the Jane doesn't seem to mind. Clinging onto her every word as though Max is divine, in some way.
Friendship often is. Something divine. Something otherworldly. Mike treasures his friends, and the quiet moments of joy few and far between. Every meetup feels like stepping through a door from the snow into a warm cabin, and the small ball of joy never seems to fade when he's in the presence of his best friends. Still… he can't shake the feeling that-
"Anyway so I was thinking we can all meet at Lucas's right? He can drive us there - Stacey said we can stay over so we can always park the car on the street ready to leave in the morning. The party starts at 9 so I was thinking maybe we meet at 8? Or earlier. I really don't mind. But I will need you guys to help me dress. Not help me dress obviously, but to just let me know what to wear? Right? Max you're good at that? Jane says you are anyway…"
Dustin trails off, rambling something about food and clothes and fear.
Mike doesn't really listen. 8pm at Lucas's. He knows they could just as easily have met up at his, but he appreciates the fact that they didn't. There's something unspoken there, something sacred about the basement. It's like a wound he can't quite place, like he's bleeding all over the floor but no matter how much pressure he puts on himself it just won't stop.
His eyes keep finding the door. Expectant almost, like he's waiting for it to open, for… someone… to come in. Dustin's mum maybe? His own? Nancy? He doesn't know. He really isn't sure. But he knows he's waiting. Waiting for something… important.
He shakes his head. Lucas has moved from Max's side and is rifling through Dustin's DVD collection, whilst Jane makes a comment about how no, she doesn't want to re-watch Star Wars for the ninth time. Mike frowns at that, but nods his head.
They end up with some trashy action movie that Dustin claims Steve raved to him about. Mike is half certain he was pulling Dustin's leg, judging by the porno style acting and half arsed dialogue. Still, it has them all laughing, and when Dustin's mom comes in later with pizza for the 5 of them he almost forgets that nagging feeling pulling on the edges of his consciousness.
. . .
The weekend comes faster than Mike thinks he'd like it to. Lucas's house is abuzz with noise, and it's the same as Mike remembers it being, except for how it's not. The floor's the same shade, and the walls are still cracked from when the party decided it would be a good idea to play indoor catch (and by the party, he really means Lucas and Max) and Max had hit the wall too hard. There's still scratches on the floor, and the living room still looks like it could swallow them whole, and yet, and yet.
It's overly polished, like effort has been made to keep it tidy, to cover up the gaps, the spaces where something should have been. Loss is only loss as long as you acknowledge it. If you forget, brush past it, it becomes other. Something more, something less.
Mike isn't sure he likes it. Isn't sure he likes the new statues Mrs Sinclair bought to replace the ones that got smashed during a demo attack. They're too similar, too much alike the old ones.
It feels occasionally like his life is built of paper mache. Old newspapers and glue. Memories held together by water. When holes appear he patches them up, in shades of yellow, blue, purple. No patch is ever the same, and no wound is ever forgotten. Mike doesn't like confronting his pain, but at the very least he will always do more than pretend it never happened.
Max is shouting something from down the hall, and Jane giggles in response. Dustin is fussing over his shirt, and Lucas keeps telling him to stop worrying.
Mike supposes he hasn't made as much effort as he should have. At least his jeans are clean this time, and the top he's wearing is only like what, a day old?
He doesn't really care about the party, or Stacey, or well, anything really.
"Cheer up Mike" Jane says, bursting into the room. She's a flurry of colours, all sequins and feathers, and Max walks in behind her, dressed similarly, cheeks aflush with… something.
"I am Cheered." He replies, possibly unconvincingly.
"Are you two nearly ready? We need to leave like, 5 minutes ago." Dustin says, still fussing over his shirt.
"Wow you brush up well." Winks Max, and Dustin merely rolls his eyes.
"You do look good Dustin." It's Jane this time, and Mike doesn't miss the way his cheeks darken just a fraction.
Mike likes that. Her brutal honesty. He knows he can always rely on Jane to give him a straight answer, even if it is a bit blunt at times.
"Anyway, don't worryyy" Max drawls, and its only then Mike notices the bottle of vodka she has clutched in her hand. He was wondering where that went. "We'll be fashionably late."
"Yes. We are very fashionable" Jane grins, and the two girls burst out into giggling.
"Pass me that." Mike says, gesturing at the bottle. Max rolls her eyes, stumbling slightly - leaning a bit further into her crutch than is really necessary - as she hands it to him.
"Don't be such a party pooper Wheeelerrrrrr."
Mike just rolls his eyes and smirks. "Can't let you have all the fun." He says, before tipping his head back and drinking straight from the bottle.
It burns as it pours down his throat, and he only really manages two sips before he feels the heat crawl up to his nose. He passes the bottle to Lucas, who sakes his head and dangles his car keys, before coughing, shuddering a breath as he wipes his mouth.
"Ok. Ready. Let's go." He stands a little too fast, but nobody really seems to notice. The party trail after him as Dustin frantically pulls on his shoes whilst Lucas catches up with Max and Jane as they both giggle all the way to the car.
He hears Max shout something that sounds a lot like 'Shotgun' and 'Coma' and 'Girlfriend' before rolling his eyes and following them out.
. . .
The party is well, fine. He's a few shots deep, listening to Jane talk animatedly to Max about something from the sofa when Dustin shouts for everyone's attention. He's hanging off Stacey, sort of, or maybe Stacey is hanging off him. It's hard to tell, but they're clearly both drunk. He's happy for him, truly, he just wishes that…
That? He's not sure. It's on the tip of his tongue, like he's forgetting something important. It feels like someone else should be here, like there's an empty space in his life that he's not sure how to fill.
"DRINKING GAME." Dustin yells, louder this time, as though nobody had heard him the first time. He watches as everyone forms a vague circle on the living room floor, and he just so happens to be caught within it. He's thinks his friends did it on purpose. Actually, judging by Max and Jane's twin smiles, he knows they did it on purpose.
It's a game of truth or dare. Easy enough. Typical teenage questions. Lucas dares Max to do a shot from his mouth which - ew, Mike thinks he'd rather watch a Demogorgon tear through the walls than that, but judging by the cheers and laughter she must have done it anyway. Someone dares Stacey to kiss Dustin on the cheek, which has Dustin blushing and Stacey giggling. Two people Mike doesn't know that well are off in the closet playing 7 minutes in heaven, although he's pretty sure it's been a bit more than seven minutes. He doesn't dare ask.
Jane answers truth, and gets rewarded with 'who's your favourite person here.' To which she responds with an easy smile and a 'Max!' There's a couple of awws in the crowd, and Max leans over to hug her tightly, fighting back the tears that prickle at the corners of her eyes.
"You're ma best friend Jane." She drawls. And Mike can't really help the smile that's been fighting it's way onto his face.
It's his turn next, and it's Dustin that asks the question.
"Mike. Truth or Dare."
Mike contemplates for a second, but really he's too comfortable where he is to move anywhere for a dare, and the worst that happens with truth is he has to take another shot. He's fine with that. He might take one anyway.
"Truth." It comes out lopsided.
"Ok…" Dustin pretends to think for a second, swaying slightly where he sits. "Who's your favourite member of the party?"
Mike grins. "Oh that's easy." He pauses for effect, letting the alcohol course through him, filling him with warmth, ease.
"Will." He grins, bracing himself for exasperation. Complaints towards how he always plays favourites. But who can blame him, really, when will looks at him from behind his shaggy hair with those big doe eyes of his. Maybe he does play favourites.
What he doesn't expect is silence. Confusion.
"Err.. what?" Lucas is the first to break the silence. It's like a record scratch. For a second Mike himself almost forgets his answer.
"Will? Our friend? Went missing in the woods? Will the Wise? Bowl cut?" He's half joking, but there's something nagging at the back of his brain. No, it says. Something here isn't right.
"Mike are you alright?" Jane is looking at him with pity.
He looks at her confused. "What?"
"I'm not sure who this Will is. I'm sorry Mike. Did you have too much to drink? We can take you home, if you need? It's not too far to walk."
"What?" Mike asks again, confused. Will, he knows Will, right? They all do he's.. he's? It's like his memory is working against him, like there's some barrier between here and the concept of Will, and it's like dreaming, pulling at threads before they disappear. But it's slipping, faster, faster.
This is important somehow. He knows it is, knows it's more than the vodka, the lights, his friends. Will. Will. Will. He feels dizzy.
"Mike are you.. do you…?" Max trails off. He ignores how the party has gone silent, how people are whispering things about him, the hushed voices, the concern in his friends eyes.
"He's… he's… my best friend?" But the words come out slurred, uncertain. Lacking the same conviction as before.
"Mike you've gone very pale. I mean, paler than usual, and that's saying something." It's Lucas this time. The world is spinning, he's spinning. His head hurts. He was remembering something. He knows he was. Something important. Someone? Maybe? Someone yellow? A wizard? He giggles.
A wizard. How silly. He really has played too much dnd.
He hears a shout. Something about water, something about his name. He really doesn't feel too good. Maybe it was the alcohol. The room is spinning. What was he thinking about? Wizards? Purple? His friends. His friends. He likes his friends. He thinks they are very nice. Dustin's there now, a red solo cup in his hand. Mike takes it. Flinching as the water hits the back of his throat.
"Are you alright?"
Mike nods. Sitting up. "Sorry yeah, it's probably the alcohol." The room is louder now, buzzing with chatter. "What were we talking about again?"
Max shrugs, thinking for a second. "Truth or dare I think. Dustin was going to ask you a question but you went all… funny." She trails off.
Right. Right. A question. Truth or Dare. Stacey's Party. But didn't he already… his head spins again and he stands up.
"Mike? Lucas asks.
"Just gonna…" he mumbles, pointing vaguely towards the door. "Air."
The party nod seriously.
"I'll come with you?" Jane asks, earnestly.
"It's alright. I'll only be a minute."
She doesn't look convinced, and he feels the burn of her eyes as he heads towards the door. Truth or dare. Dustin. Question. Someone.
He's forgetting something. He knows he is. His head spins the more he tries to remember. Air. Right. He needs air. Somehow it feels important. He has to reach the door. He's got to.
Question. Wizard? Why did he? Why a wizard? Nobody's a Cleric in his party. There's the Paladin, the Zoomer, the knight, the bard, the Mage. Maybe he's getting muddled up. Did he write one in? Is it in his latest campaign notes?
Yeah. Maybe. That sounds right. Dnd. God maybe he should listen to his mom. It'd be no good if he went and spoilt the campaign whilst drunk to his friends. He should go back and apologise. He should turn back, away, from the door.
But… no. Something's not right. He needs to get out, outside. It's important, somehow, in some far off way, much like the wizard, the Wise, his friend… best friend? He has a best friend, doesn't he? Who? Dustin? No. Dustin has Steve, Lucas has Max, Jane has Max, Max has them both. He has. Who? Who? He has somebody right? He'd have noticed if he had spent his whole life without a best friend. That feels important somehow, he knows it does.
"Mike?" He can't quite recognise the voice, and yet, it's familiar. It's coming from outside the door. He needs to reach it. He needs to. It's important. He knows it. It must be.
"Mike?" It sounds small somehow, smaller. Familiar. Almost pleading? He knows that voice. It's the Wizard.
The door is closer now, and he reaches out for the handle. Gripping it. Pulling it open. The light hits him hard. Like the sun, almost. Almost brighter. Almost… colourful? Young. There's grass, he feels… small. Smaller anyway. He hears the door shut behind him as his shoes hit the grass.
Stacey's garden? No. No. It should be dark. Night time. And there should be cars parked along the road but there's… no road. Just grass. More grass, and a building. A school? Yes. His School. His first School.
There's a swing-set outside. A swing-set with a boy. A boy he knows. His best friend. He's young, younger than Mike can almost remember, and he wonders for a second how he could ever have forgotten him. Will, his Will, Will the wise, his best friend.
He feels the alcohol leave his body, feels his heart beat soft soft, fast. Thuds in his chest. And then it stops. Will is looking down. Frowning. And Mike is small, so small, so lonely. He forgets about the party, his friends, the demos. He's just Mike now. Michael Wheeler. And it's his first day of school. Yes. Of course it is.
It's his first day of school, and he's about to make a friend.