Chapter Text
“Time heals all, Mike.”
Not this time. Mike thought to himself as he blankly stared at his crumpled bed sheets. He could feel how his body had now molded with his mattress and how it memorized his the way he laid there to waste. He can feel his skin itch, he knows how badly he must have looked now. The moment he arrived back from battle, he was nothing but an empty shell. Mike didn’t even bother to change out of the clothes he wore for a week. She held me for the last time in this, I am not taking it off. That night was etched in his memory. Every single part of her is carved into the folds of his brain. He can still taste the peppermint toothpaste from her lips and how her skin felt cold when he held her for the last time. Mike can still feel El and if staying in dirty clothes marked with demogorgon blood helps him from forgetting her then so be it.
Grief was a disease that plagued him and it wasn’t just Mike who came to learn about it's sickness. Everyone around him became victims to grief’s relentless torment. They learned that grief is ugly. Mike had to be dragged to the bath tub by his dad because he refused to take care of himself. Karen and Nancy had to give him a bath herself while they struggled to take off the clothes he was adamant on dying in. His dad who he knew always looked at them with a sense of boredom in his eyes now has a different picture painted on his face. Ted looked at Mike with pity, Ted never understood his children but when he had to drag his son from his bedroom to the bath tub, he felt like he was holding his own son’s corpse. He never wanted to understand him more than at that moment.
Karen looked over at her son as he lays in a fetal position in his childhood bed. At that moment Karen Wheeler didn’t see a soldier who went head to head with interdimensional monsters, she just saw her son who was grieving the love of his life that she never even got to meet. The normalcy of it all amongst the unimaginable chaos that had just transpired was a hurtful reminder that Mike was still a young boy going through a pain that he should have experienced when he was way older.
It wasn’t right that Mike was mourning El at sixteen years old. Mike was supposed to mourn her when they are both ninety and have already spent their life with each other.
After receiving no reply once again, she let out a sigh and placed her hands on the blades of his shoulders “I’ll just place your dinner right here..” she whispers as she takes the plate of cold food from the night before that he didn’t eat. Karen takes one last glance at Mike who still remains clutching in his arms his old sweater, it was the first clothing item El borrowed from him and he holds it like in a way he wishes he still held her. Safe in his arms and never letting go.
The next day, he managed to get out of bed to the surprise of everyone but alas, it was apparent that he was a ghost haunting their home. He sat there on the breakfast table not saying a word, eyes empty staring at nothing. He didn't engage in conversation as he ate his breakfast. Mike can feel how hard Nancy and his mom were trying. Holly looked at her brother sometimes trying to say something but her words seem to fail to reach him. The way Holly looked at him hurt the most, it wasn't the pitiful look his dad gave him instead she looked confused and scared. That night was the first time she saw her older brother like that. Screaming like he was going through the most unimaginable pain he will ever go through and when Mike was pulled into the void, she thought Vecna must have gotten him. Holly didn't understand what happened and why her brother was suddenly devoid of any happiness or life he used to have. Nancy tried to explain but despite Nancy's extensive vocabulary, no words in the English language could describe how much El meant to Mike.
Mike seeked refuge in the basement just staring at the old TV playing on static. He didn’t know what he was waiting for or if there was something that’s actually coming. In his hand he’s holding his Supercom fiddling with the buttons hoping for something, anything to come up. Alas, nothing came up— not even a whisper. Mike let out a tired sigh and tossed the Supercom somewhere to be forgotten. He laid down the carpeted floors, bringing his hands up to his head then rubbing his eyelids until circles started to appear.
This basement contained in its walls countless memories from his childhood. The table where he and the party spent hours playing DnD, conjuring up out-of-this world scenarios as they embody mystical characters bigger than the reality they were in. The laughter that filled this room used to linger even in the silence of abandoned figurines and strays of character sheets but in this moment the laughter is gone but a ghost remains. One he wish could stay haunting him.
Now, if Mike’s basement walls could talk it would have El’s voice. Her warmth drifted in the air and her scent lingered in the pillows of the blanket fort that used to hide her from the world that threatened to take her away from him.
Mike saw the blanket fort in the corner of his vision, it had collected a bit of dust since the last time she was in it. He crawled over and hid beneath its soft walls lined with old comforters and sheets, he grabbed one of the pillows and held it tight to his chest, trying to sniff out what remained of her scent since the last time she was there. When she had one of those rare days where she was free from training and it was safe for her to go to town, Mike went out of his way to make that day special. He knew they couldn’t do much but it didn’t matter.
They spent the day in his basement eating Eggos and watching movies in this blanket fort that concealed both of them away from the world. It was as if Hawkins wasn’t split in two when their lips connected and the weight on his shoulders disappeared when she was the one on his lap weighing him down and grounding him back to Earth.
El had very little moments of peace in between training and gathering information from the military, Mike cherished those little moments. During a time where everything was taken away from them he made sure that no armed soldier or interdimensional monster could take away what they shared.
They were each other’s constant in an everchanging world.
Mike held the pillow tighter as he sobbed into the fabric soaking the fabric with tears.
Remembering El brought an ache to his heart and a weight on his chest. It made his eyes blurry from the tears and his bones shake as a chill runs down his spine. Still, it brought him back to her. The pain was a reminder that she was real and she exists in the pain he housed in his body, at the very core of his being.
The heartache is a testament to the joy she brings that used to fill his heart. The chills that rattled his bones, a remembrance to the warmth her touch used to bring. This pain made him sick. It stopped his appetite and brought along a fever. Mike knew that loving El and ruminating in grief is killing him on the inside, but he didn’t mind. Even in his deepest sorrows, Mike is reminded of the happiness they once shared.
The day slowly passed and Mike stayed in the basement, hidden in the blanket fort where El’s ghost seemed to haunt.
Where her laughter echoed in the walls.
Where her warmth creeped in the air.
Where her very essence is brought alive from the pain that seethes in his soul.
Where she lives in more than just his memory. Where she remains and where her ghost laid beside him and maybe the louder he cries, some mystic force would take pity and either bring her to life or take him where she is.