Chapter Text
(Ahem. If you’re wondering where my next MHA fic is, i’ll be working on it after this fic.)
hey there. I’ve written fic for at least 20 years for all sorts of fandoms. my most recent fic has been My Hero Academia. I didn’t plan to write for Stranger Things, but then the finale happened. So here I am. There are already about 500 Mileven-reunite-in-iceland fics. This will not be one of them! I want to spend time with the Party during the 18 months between El’s “death” and graduation. And then the 18 months after that. Originally, i planned to write a very short one shot. But then i remembered, like dustin, i cannot shut up.
Fun grammar note: i waffled on singular possession with names that end with s. In ye olden days I learned “Lucas’ shoes,” but apparently most modern American style guides now say “Lucas’s shoes.” So that’s what I’m going with.
Big props to my husband for the beta, especially since he hates third person pov.
My outline for AiaWtsC is pretty much complete. I have 4 chaps written and plan to publish once a month. I will update characters as they appear in the story.
80s references:
Ski soda: Ski is a popular lemon-and-orange citrus soda that serves as an iconic, staple beverage in Evansville, Indiana, and surrounding areas. Released in 1956, it features real fruit juice and is still popular to this day. Picture of Ski Soda
One moment Mike holds El like a lifeline, the next he is yanked out the Void. He isn’t ready to say goodbye. He’ll never be ready. Saying goodbye to El is impossible. Unfathomable. He won’t do it–not again. Two soldiers pull at his vest, he ignores them because all that matters is El. When he screams her name what he means is: I can’t lose you, I love you, don’t leave me, for the love of God please, please don’t leave me.
When Mike shrieks El, El, El loud enough to tear something in his throat, to taste blood, to jerk free of the guards, he’s begging her to come back to him. Or, at the very least, take him with her. Why why hadn’t he told her he loved her too? What is wrong with him? What if she doesn’t know? What if she doesn’t realize how much he loves her and that’s why she’s leaving him? He stares at her, eyes wide, hands trembling.
He can’t hear the detonation, but he can feel it beneath his feet, in his bones, the way the hair on the back of his neck stands up. The way Will did with Vecna and the Mind Flayer. Nausea rolls through Mike’s gut. The thing killing El isn’t something from the Upside Down or the Abyss, it’s the bomb. Mike’s record. He switched from the Butthole Surfers to Prince for El, as a final goodbye to the Upside Down. To all the pain it’s caused. El likes Prince. She loves purple.
Mike flinches at the flash of light, stumbles backwards. But not for long. He staggers forward again, like he’s his mom after two bottles of wine. His throat hurts, probably because he’s still screaming. He can’t stop. His voice barely carries over the noise from the Upside Down. El just stands there, waiting.
Please no. Please no. Panic claws its way out of his lungs and bursts out of his throat.
“El! El!”
I love you.
Goodbye, Mike.
And with an unearthly howl, El–and the Upside Down–vanishes. Mike’s ears ring. He’s dizzy. Sick. He takes wooden steps up the ramp to the gate and all he can see are the remains of the library. (An empty chalkboard.) The fucking library. He’s sixteen. (He’s twelve.) El is gone and El is gone and El is gone.
His eyes burn. His vision blurs. Someone touches his arm. One of the soldiers. Fuck him. Fuck this. There’s noise. Screaming. Dustin maybe. Will. Hopper. Nancy. But none of it matters because they’re not El. The person he needs is El. Because El said you see me. But that goes both ways. His family loves him and Will and Lucas are his best friends but El understands him. Without El he doesn’t exist. He spent 353 days without her. He cannot do it again. He makes his way into the library, bellowing El’s name. His throat is filled with glass, his voice is shredded, but he can’t give up. Because–what if–what if–the Upside Down is just behind the library? What if it’s still there? There’s only one way to find out.
MIke begins dragging pieces of rubble aside, panting. His screams have devolved into a kind of chant. Or maybe a prayer. He’s not religious, but he’s fine praying to El.
Voices. Louder. And then softer. And then much louder. Three soldiers half-carry, half-drag him out of the library while Nancy tries to soothe him and Jonathon yells at the soldiers. Hopper is arguing with that bitch Dr. Kay.
Mike digs his heels in when he sees her. Struggles harder. This is her fault. Brenner’s fault. He makes a guttural noise. Nancy grabs his arm. He shakes her off. He wants to kill everyone except El. He wants to kill himself.
He pulls free from Kay’s men with a burst of adrenaline. He’s not thinking about El’s request to thank their friends for being kind. He’s thinking about the cycle repeating. The experiments. About the girl he met in the rain the night after Will went missing. The girl who hardly ever had a moment’s peace. Who deserved the world–who saved the world–and got nothing in return. Nothing except a relentlessly shitty government and a boyfriend who thought talking about waterfalls would save her. A boyfriend who rigged the timer on the bomb that killed her. And Lucas said he wasn’t romantic.
Mike’s not sure what he’s going to do when he gets to Kay. He’s not a good fighter. El’s strong and brave–she’s the fighter. Mike is barely Lois Lane. All he can do is make plans. Except he failed at that. He set the trigger using broken circuitry and electronics from the Squawk and a spare D&D figure. When Mike finished it, he and El had an impromptu dance party with Robin, Steve and Dustin while singing–but not playing–some of Prince’s biggest hits. Why did the timer have to work like a fucking fucking charm on his first try? He bares his teeth.
His expression is enough to make Kay take a step back.
“Eleven is dead,” Hopper snarls, shoving her into the side of the Bradley’s Big Buy truck. He ignores the gun she has pointed at his head. “She’s dead because she would rather die than be used in your fucking experiment again.” Hopper steps closer, vein pulsing in his forehead. His eyes are wild. “My biggest regret in life is that El died and you didn’t.” Hopper’s smile is unhinged. “But hey, the night is young.”
Kay narrows her eyes. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s whatever you want it to be.”
A grunt near Kay sticks a foot out and Mike goes sprawling. He lands on his right knee, both palms, rolls, and ends up on his back. He stares up at the sky, and then gets up on his elbows.
“Mike!”
The few soldiers still holding their so-called prisoners release them. Holly rushes toward her brother. Jonathan follows. Dustin sits on the ground crying. Steve crouches beside him.
Mike grabs a handful of gravel and throws it at Kay. Most of it hits her square in the face. Some pelts her hair. Some pings off the truck. She closes her eyes instinctively and Hopper takes the opportunity to grab her gun. He imagines blowing her head off, pockets the gun with a weary sigh instead. “I suggest you and your troops start withdrawing,” Hopper growls. “You’re no longer needed here. Not that you ever were.”
Kay ignores Hopper, uses her uniform sleeve to wipe her face. Glances disdainfully at the boy. “Someone get that kid to calm the fuck down. Now.”
Mike senses the boot coming at his face and–
***
Karen Wheeler is incandescent with rage. She seethes from her wheelchair, IV bag hanging above her head. She studies the matching bruises on her son’s pale face, one a fading purple on his right temple, a livid red on the right. Her only son, her second born, is unconscious because a military officer kicked him. In the head.
How dare those goddamn soldiers hurt her child. How. Fucking. Dare. They. Karen winds the hem of her gown furiously around one finger. Her stomach is just as twisted.
It’s been 15 minutes since Michael was brought in on a gurney accompanied by his sisters and an elderly doctor. Both girls were crying–one from anger, one from fear. The doctor said Mike’s pupils reacted to light, but they wouldn’t know if he had a concussion until he woke up. What if he doesn’t wake up? She tries holding one of his hands and discovers his palm is scraped raw, as if he’s rubbed it across cement. Both hands are covered in dried blood. Two of his fingernails are torn and one is blackened as if he’d crushed it in a door. Dozens of tiny red and purple spots ring his eyes, dot his upper cheeks. Those are called petechiae, the doctor explained. Which is a fancy way of saying broken capillaries. They break from strain, like coughing or screaming and leak blood into the skin. She cups her son’s face and kisses the small red marks on each cheek. They look like pin-pricks. He looks impossibly young on the hospital bed.
Nancy sits stiffly in a chair beside Karen’s wheelchair, knee jiggling nervously. Only 72 hours ago Mike wore a hospital gown so they could sneak in to see their mom. Now he’s wearing one for real. Those 72 hours feel like months.
“Why did they hurt him?” Karen rasps. Nancy keeps trying to explain but nothing she says makes sense. The Upside Down? El dead? Michael screaming so hard his blood vessels burst? And he was attacked by the military?
Nancy looks at Holly. She’s curled against Mike, face pressed to his side, hands holding his arm like it’s her favorite Care Bear. She should know which one it is, but she can’t remember. Nancy pushes down her impatience. It’s not fair. It’s not her mom’s fault she doesn’t understand what’s been going on in Hawkins. If anything, it’s Nancy’s fault for not telling the truth sooner. For not warning her parents what was out there. Who was out there. And for not protecting Holly. Or Mike.
Nancy wipes her sweaty palms on her sweater vest and tries again. “So, um, the soldiers wouldn’t let Mike get to El once we got back to the MAC-Z. And she died in the explosion.” This is the Cliff Notes of Cliff Notes version, but she’s exhausted.
Nancy turns toward Karen and her face is wet with tears. “He sounded like he was dying, Mom. I didn’t know he could sound like that. I–I didn’t know anyone could sound like that.”
Nancy’s leg bounces faster. “God. It was…it was really bad. I was terrified Mike was going to reach the gate and kill himself with El.”
Karen blanches. She feels faint. “El killed herself?” In front of her baby? That can’t be true.
Nancy grimaces. “It’s not what it sounds like. I’ll–I’ll try to explain.” So she does. As simply and succinctly as possible. Which isn’t easy.
Karen listens wordlessly. It’s hard to follow, especially since Nancy’s story isn’t exactly linear, but her daughter is calm and well-spoken in a way that makes Karen unbelievably proud. She wants to ask questions but she can’t seem to do much more than cry. And take slow, shuddering breaths. She leans forward to rub Holly’s arm and then Mike’s wrist. Takes Nancy’s hand. All three of her children are safe in this room. Ted is alive down the hall. Her family will get through this. She is so lucky. So very lucky.
While Nancy speaks, the others arrive in small groups: Jonathan, Dustin, Will. Lucas, Max, Robin, the red-haired candy-striper. Joyce, and Jim Hopper. There might be more. Karen can’t keep track. She’s not sure if they’re here to support Mike, each other, or some other combination. There’s an empty room next door and they wander back and forth in various configurations. The head nurse is clearly annoyed, but when Hopper dares her to call security she backs down, grumbling to herself.
Karen squeezes Nancy’s fingers gratefully. Jim stands in the doorway. She meets his weary gaze. “Tell me again.” She’s heard from Holly and Nancy, now she needs an adult to tell her what happened. She has the gist: Hopper missing–presumed dead. El, short for Eleven, not a Russian spy, but a child experimented on in Hawkins. Nancy’s best friend Barbara killed by one of those things that attacked Karen and took Holly. This is like something out of a horror movie or a Stephen King book. No wonder Michael is so obsessed with El, he’s been protecting her for years. And she’s been protecting him. She’s been protecting the entire town.
“It started when Will went missing, and we found El in the rain.” Dustin’s voice waivers only slightly, but his eyes leak a steady stream of tears. He looks almost as bad as Mike. Karen wonders if the military’s new hobby is beating up teenage boys. He sniffs loudly. “I can’t believe she’s gone.” Nancy’s ex-boyfriend appears and puts a hand on Dustin’s shoulder. Karen has no idea why he’s here, or why he’s comforting Mike’s friend. She has no idea about a lot of things.
Karen sighs heavily. “Dustin, honey. I love you, but I want Jim to explain.”
Dustin sniffs again. “Okay. S-sure.” He’s positive he can do a better job, but Mrs. Wheeler and Hopper are both old so he gets it.
Jim drags a hand down his face, through his beard. His eyes are bloodshot. There’s a blue braided hair tie on his wrist. He lifts a finger. “One. Like Nancy said earlier, Will didn’t just–” he makes finger quotes–””go missing.””
Okay, Karen knows this. “He was taken to the Upside Down.” She struggles to remember the name of those fucking monsters. It’s like something out of Greek mythology. What was Medusa, again? A…gorgon. “By a-a demogorgon. The same thing that attacked Ted and me and took Holly.” The same thing she put in a permanent press cycle. Bastards.
“That’s right. Two, El helped find Will with her psychic powers. She was raised in a secret facility inside Hawkins National Laboratory. Part of an experiment run by Dr. Martin Brenner,” Jim’s lip curls in disgust. “I don’t know how many kids were part of the experiment, but there were at least eleven. Brenner’s dead but the military assholes started the program back up.” He closes his eyes. Opens them very slowly. Swallows. “I adopted El over two years ago.” His voice cracks. He pounds a fist against the doorframe. “She was supposed to have a future. She was supposed to have a good life.”
Dustin’s crying is no longer silent.
Joyce materializes beside Jim, takes his hand in both of hers. Her face is red and blotchy, she looks like she hasn’t slept for days. “Hop,” she whispers. “Hop.”
He shakes his head. “So El’s real name is Jane Hopper.” He laughs raggedly. “Was.” He covers his eyes. “Jesus Christ. If the military hadn’t spent the last 18 months hunting her the way we hunted Vecna, she could have gone to high school with you guys.” He aims a trembling smile toward Dustin. “She would have loved that.”
Jim clears his throat. “Three. Brenner used El’s powers to open a rift in this, uh, other dimension–”
Dustin raises his hands in a conciliatory manner. “I know this isn’t the time, and I’m really sorry, but I just want to say Eddie Munson didn’t kill anyone. It was Vecna a/k/a Henry Creel. He caused the earthquake and the rifts and took Holly and the other kids and he’s been behind almost every shitty thing that’s happened.”
Karen’s mouth falls open. She stares from Joyce to Jim. “Henry Creel? From high school Henry Creel? From that stupid play?”
Joyce wants to protest that the play wasn’t stupid, but this isn’t the time. Also, it was. “Yes. It makes no sense.”
“Brenner was involved with Creel too.” Hopper sighs. “Brenner faked his death, hid him away in the lab. Pretty sure Henry’s blood was used to give El her powers.” Although give is a way too fucking nice way to put it. Too bad there’s not a way to bring Brenner back from the dead so Hopper can kill him in a much more painful way.
Karen feels like she’s trapped in a very bad dream. But her pain meds are wearing off, she’s tired, and feels a little bit like screaming. So she’s probably awake. “What the hell has been happening here?”
Jonathan rubs his mouth. “Nothing good.”
Karen stares at Nancy. “You’re saying Henry Creel was Vecna? The monster that took Holly? And Will? The thing that controlled the Demogorgons?” Her voice–and eyebrows–rise with each word.
Holly mumbles, hugs Mike harder. Karen doesn’t know how her daughter can sleep through the noise, but she’s grateful she can.
Nancy moves her chair closer to Karen’s. “That’s right.”
“But…Henry’s really dead this time. He can’t get Holly anymore.”
“He’s dead,” Nancy confirms. She’ll confirm it as many times as her mom needs. As they all need. “We killed him.”
This all sounds like nonsense with a capital N. But Karen saw the Demogorgogon with her own eyes. Fought it with nothing but a piece of glass in an attempt to save Holly. People have said Hawkins has been cursed for years, and they were right. Just not by cults or Russians or poisoned water. Karen Wheeler is now one of a handful, well, maybe two handfuls of people, who know why Will and so many other townspeople have gone missing, what was behind Barbara’s death, and Billy’s, and the destruction of StarCourt Mall. And Jim’s supposed death.
Karen looks up. “Were you really kidnapped by Russians?”
Jim leans against the wall, arms crossed. He nods.
There is a chorus of yeses from Erica, Steve, Dustin, and Joyce.
“And El–Eleven–really has powers?”
“I know this shit sounds super crazy, but it’s all true.” Dustin tugs off his hat. His hair feels gross. He feels gross. He’s covered in Mind Flayer goo. “El is like Jean Grey.”
“Was.”
Dustin, Steve, Hopper, and Joyce all turn to look at Lucas. He’s standing in the hallway, hands balled into fists. He’s been crying. Is still crying.
“Was like Jean Grey,” Lucas repeats.
Dustin stares at him. For about two glorious minutes he forgot El was dead. “I hate this,” he says thickly. Using the past tense is a fucking abomination. He stalks past Steve, Hopper, and then Lucas so he can go to the bathroom and cry in peace.
Karen doesn't know who Jean Grey is, but she knows her son’s first crush. The girl he went to the Snow Ball with. The girl he’s loved since eighth grade. She never understood why he was so serious about her, or so secretive. So protective. Until this moment she didn’t realize Mike’s love was the same girl he hid in the basement all those years ago. He’s been in love with the same girl since he was 12 years old. A girl with actual superpowers.
A girl he watched die.
Karen’s still holding Nancy’s hand. “And tonight…you destroyed the Upside Down. So Hawkins would be safe.”
“That’s right. But El…stayed…inside…when the bomb went off.” Jim stares up at the ceiling. He speaks slowly. Carefully. As if he speaks too quickly his words will shatter. And then so will he.
Nancy licks her lips. She doesn’t trust herself to speak.
“Mike didn’t take it well,” Steve says weakly. Fucking understatement of the century.
Then who were those men who came to the house and said El was a Russian spy? Karen doesn’t get the chance to ask because Mike bolts upright and screams for El.
Holly half falls, half jumps off the bed in shock, kneeling by Nancy’s chair.
The noises Mike makes aren’t really screams. They’re a series of terrible, desperate rasps. He sounds as hoarse as Karen. Worse. He scans the room, as if El’s hiding behind Hopper or Jonathan. Or Karen’s wheelchair.
Gooseflesh breaks out on Karen’s arms. Her stomach drops. When he was five Michael was so anxious about starting kindergarten he developed night terrors. His pediatrician said he would outgrow them with a more consistent sleep schedule, and when he got used to his new school routine. He did. And he never remembered waking up screaming. It took Karen a long time to forget. Nearly a decade. She remembers now. But the desperate sounds her son makes are so much worse than his childhood panic. Because his childhood terror showed itself when he was asleep, but Mike is wide awake. And she has no idea how to help him. It’s her job to help him.
Karen stands, shuffles clumsily to the bed, takes both of his hands. “Michael. Michael. You’re okay.”
“I’m not okay,” he says hoarsely. “I’m not okay.” He looks momentarily hopeful. “Was I dreaming? Is this real?” He pulls away from Karen–much more gently than he did from the soldiers–and pads to the door.
Hopper blocks his exit. “Kid, there’s nothing you can do. It wasn’t a dream.” He puts a strong hand on Mike’s shoulder. “She’s…gone.”
Mike stares at him, eyes wide. His jaw works. And then he shakes his head. “No.”
Hopper pulls him close, rests his chin on top of Mike’s head. He closes his eyes, expression bereft. Mike goes stiff, and then limp. He slides downward so his knees hit the floor and tries to crawl through Hop’s legs. “For fuck’s sake,” Hopper grunts and grabs the back of Mike’s gown, hauls him back into the room.
Mike can’t stay here. He needs to go back to the gate, but the gate is gone. He needs to get to El, but El is gone. He needs to go to the library. What’s the fastest way to get there from here? Mike doesn’t know. Everyone is in his way. He tries to get to the window, but Jonathan is in the way. And now Will is here, holding onto his waist. People are talking to him. At him. Lucas and Dustin. Robin. Someone is crying. His mom. Or Nancy. Someone is screaming. They sound terrible. Oh, that’s him. He doesn’t sound terrible enough.
A rift appeared above Holly’s bed and above Derek’s bed. What about below the bed? He twists away from Will and tries to crawl beneath the hospital bed but can’t. Partly because the bed is adjustable and he doesn’t fit. Mostly because Steve and Hopper have him in an iron grip. Fuck them. “El! Get. Off! El!” His head hurts. His throat is filled with the gravel he threw at Kay. With fire. With one of Dad’s golf balls. He pulls away from Steve so hard the left sleeve of his gown rips. Steve is left holding a piece of blue fabric.
“Young man, that is quite enough!” Nurse Wilkes snaps. She stands in the entrance of the room. Two men in security uniforms wait behind her.
Mike ignores the nurse. He buries his hands in his hair and yanks. His gaze rolls past his friends, his sisters, and lands on his mom. “Please Mom.” His voice is barely a whisper now. “I have to get to El.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. You can’t.” She hasn’t called him sweetie in years.
This time when the nurse tells everyone but immediate family to get out, they go.
It takes three tries to sedate Mike. The first time he smacks the syringe out of Nurse Wilkes’s hand. Not on purpose, he’s simply struggling to get away. The second time he makes it past the nurse and security personnel. Wilkes drops the syringe on her own. Nancy, Will, and Lucas chase Mike down the corridor. Lucas is fast, but Mike has adrenaline and desperation on his side. Hopper catches him before he reaches the elevator.
One of the security guards arrives, hand on his baton, and Hopper tells him: “Touch the kid and I’ll break your jaw.” Mike fights, tries to drag his feet, but he’s dragged back to the hospital room anyway. This is what it must have been like for El when she was Eleven and trapped in the lab. Except these people love me, they think they’re helping. But no one helped El, no one loved El. She was alone and miserable and scared and now she’s dead.
The hospital personnel back off and Lucas and Hopper bring Mike back to Karen’s room. He’s crying again. He’s going to cry for the rest of his life. “She wouldn’t want this,” Hopper says, voice low. “You’re just hurting yourself.” Hopper doesn’t know what El wants, clearly. Neither does Mike. If they did, they would have known she was going to stay behind. What Mike does know, is he wants this. He wants to hurt himself. He wants pain. He deserves pain.
Karen holds Mike’s hand. She’s not holding him down, but she might as well be. The nurse’s syringe holds two milligrams of Ativan, which will calm him down in 10 to 15 minutes. Eventually he’ll fall asleep. Mike no longer struggles on the bed. His screams descend into broken whispers. Even with the shot, he won’t let go of El’s name, he holds it like an unraveling thread. He finally accepts his fate, eyes on the ceiling.
Wilkes applies a bandaid to the injection site. “Okay, Mr. Wheeler. You should feel better soon.”
Mike wants to laugh in her face. Or maybe spit. The drugs might force him to feel calmer, but that’s not the same as feeling better. There is no better without El.
“Michael, I know it’s a tight squeeze, but I’m going to lie down beside you. Not to make you feel better, but to make me feel better, okay? Nancy, can you help me?” Between the three of them, Nancy, Holly, and Karen push Karen’s bed closer to Mike’s. Not only can she lie in bed and stroke Mike’s hair, maybe she can prevent him from trying to escape if the Ativan doesn’t work.
Karen carefully gets into bed and slowly works her way beside her son. Seeing Michael so desperate is a different but equal terror to the Demogorgon. She takes his hand again, looks at his bloody fingers. Kisses the back of his hand. “I’m so sorry, honey. Do you want to talk about …about El?”
Mike puts his arm over his face. He’d been so excited to tell his mom the truth about her. To introduce El properly. And now. And now that will never happen. Tears leak into his hair. His ears. Onto the pillow. His shoulders shake. Karen wraps her arms around him. Holly climbs up beside Karen, pulls the thin blanket over her mom’s knees and leans against them.
“El was really brave,” Holly says. “I wish I had known her better.”
Nancy drags her chair closer to the bed, rests her elbows on the railing. “Even I didn’t know her as well as I could have.” Her voice catches. “As I should have.”
Karen runs her fingers through Mike’s hair. It feels oily. There’s blood in it. But that doesn’t matter. He’s her baby and she won’t stop for anything. It will matter later, however. When she decides who to sue into oblivion.
She gently wipes a tear from beneath his eye. “Holly said you helped keep the kids safe. Before Henry took them.”
Mike makes a choking sound. Maybe he’s trying to speak. “Honey, do you want water? Nancy, can you please pour Michael a glass of water?” But Mike shakes his head. Instead he regards Nancy with dull eyes. Mimes writing on his hand. Nancy immediately takes the clipboard and pen from the plastic cubby on the wall. She hands it to Mike. He stares at it so long she thinks he won’t take it, but eventually, he does. There’s just enough room between the wall and bed for Nancy to read what he writes.
His handwriting has never been good, but tonight it is barely legible. Karen and Mike’s roles are reversed. Now she holds the clipboard so he can write.
Kids safe?
“Mr. Clarke and Murray took them to the police station. Some of the soldiers followed,” Nancy says. She checks her watch. “They’re probably still there.”
Holly sits up. “We all talked about it before splitting up. Henry Creel kidnapped us. He drugged us and we weren’t sure where he kept us. He kept saying he needed us to make a new world. Everybody thought he was dead, but he wasn’t.” She fiddles with her Holly the Heroic necklace. “It’s all true. Plus, we all agreed to say he admitted to killing those kids everyone thinks Eddie killed, since he totally did.” She checks with Nancy. “Plus, didn’t he kill his family?”
Nancy nods. “He did. Brenner framed his dad. Victor Creel took the blame. Victor is still alive and in Pennhurst Mental Hospital.”
Holly considers. “Maybe we can get him out.”
“Maybe.” Nancy’s thinking about her trip to Pennhurst with Robin. When Victor said a demonic entity killed his family he wasn’t entirely wrong. Henry was possessed by the Mind Flayer. Or in league with him. Either way, the children’s slightly more palatable truth isn’t going to help Victor, not really.
“We also said Mr. Hopper, Mr. Murray and Mr. Clarke rescued us from a secret hideout in the Upside Down.” She pauses. “But we didn’t say Upside Down because nobody would believe us.”
“I’m not sure anyone will believe you now,” Nancy says. “I wish you would have talked to me first.”
Holly shrugs. “Kali and El told us what to say. What can the police do? Arrest us for kidnapping ourselves?”
Nancy doesn’t feel like arguing. “What else did you say?”
Holly squints at one of her completely disgusting pigtails. Tentatively sniffs it. Ugh, it’s so gross! It smells like dead feet, farts, and that fancy mustard Dad likes. If Derek were here she’d totally tell him that.
Nancy snaps her fingers. “Holls, focus.”
Holly’s going to take one hundred baths when she gets home. But then she thinks of hiding with Mom in the tub. Maybe one hundred showers.
“Holly.”
“Uh, right. Sorry. We said El, well, Jane Ives, because that’s what Kali said we should call her. Jane caught Henry and there was a big explosion at the library that killed them both.” Holly looks at Mike to see his reaction. There isn’t one. She looks at her mom.
Karen bites her lip. “Will that work?” she asks doubtfully.
Nancy shrugs. “It makes as much sense as a satanic D&D club. And the story doesn’t have to be perfect. Most of the parents don’t even know their kids were taken.” She smiles grimly. “At least not yet. And the police won’t be able to investigate because the military won’t let them into the MAC-Z…and the Upside Down is gone. But with all the kids saying the same thing, who are the parents going to believe? Their children? Or the military that won’t say anything and that’s probably already in the process of clearing out of town?”
“Well, there’s also Miss Harris. Who knows what she’ll say.”
Nancy has a good idea she’ll say absolutely nothing thanks to General Kay. And the parents of any children who have nightmares or mention seeing monsters will be told they’re just imagining things.
“I’ll have to make a statement or something though, right?” Holly asks. “I told Derek to say I couldn’t do it right away because my parents were in the hospital. So that should give us some time.” She smiles at her mom. “That probably would have made me nervous before, but after Vecna it doesn’t seem scary at all.”
Mike scrawls something. Nancy expects it to be about Holly’s story. It isn’t.
I killed El.
Nancy tilts her head. “What are you talking about?”
Had bomb. Made timer. To destroy Upside Down for good. She stayed to make sure military couldn’t get her. I wasn’t prepared. I didn’t know. He sniffs. Writes faster. But I know this: I made timer = I killed her.
Karen stares at the page. “Michael, that doesn’t even make sense. How could you make a timer for a bomb?”
Nancy sighs. “Mom, Mike makes a ton of electronic shit in the high school AV Club. And Hopper helps. He’s good with timers and circuitry. And I’m good with shooting.” She puts a hand on Mike’s shoulder. Murmurs, “It’s not your fault.”
Karen rubs carefully around her stitches. How can they hurt and itch? “Shooting what?”
Nancy sighs again. Louder. “What do you think, Mom?”
Karen stares at her daughter as if she’s never seen her before. “Guns?”
“Yes, guns. We were training for 18 months to find and kill Vecna.” She flashes back to the soldiers she shot. Killed. She waits for the guilt, but none comes. She would have shot them again to reach the Abyss and save her sister. Nancy doesn’t understand how Jonathan stood back when Will was missing. He and Will are closer in age, closer in general than she and Holly are. But she’d still kill a dozen soldiers a dozen times over to bring Holly back to her parents. And maybe, her lack of conscience whispers, this was for Barb.
“That means weapons training. Target practice.” Karen pictures Nancy shooting an AK-47 like a teenage Rambo. Nancy continues, “Trips into the Upside Down to search for Vecna.”
“You went into the Upside Down?” Karen asks, horrified.
Well, not until the end. Nancy rubs her nose. “Not me. Not Mike. It was Hopper.”
Mike’s eyes slowly close. The sedative is finally taking effect. Karen watches the steady rise and fall of his chest. His eyelids flutter back open. He writes again, I killed El.
“Honey, no.”
He grimaces, tries to speak, breaks into a fit of coughing. Collapses back against the pillow. The bruising on his face looks darker. Uglier. He scrawls, Michael, underlines the el repeatedly. I can’t be me without El. What do I do? What do I do? His eyes are half lidded now.
I should
have died
with her.
He drops the pen. He’s too tired. His fingers no longer work.
Mom leans over him, looks into his face. An ugly line of stitches crosses her throat. He can see the pain on her face. If he had said something sooner he could have saved her from this pain. Maybe he could have saved Holly and El too. He thinks, All you ever do is make things worse.
“Do not say that,” Karen tells Mike fiercely. “Don’t ever say you should have died, do you hear me?”
Mike hmms softly in response. From now on he’ll just think it.
***
Karen desperately wants to go home when Mike is discharged, but her surgeon says she has another two weeks hospital stay minimum. Ted has longer. Nancy promises to bring Holly back later, but for now they both go home with Mike. Jonathan drives. Steve can’t, since his car is orbiting whatever exists beyond the remnants of the Upside Down.
Mr. Clarke and Murray are stacking extra plywood just inside the garage. Nancy can see blue rolls of tarp on one of the shelves. The holes in the siding and roof are already covered. Both men wave.
“Joyce is inside the house,” Murray calls. “There’s coffee if you want some.”
Nancy does. Badly. Right after she takes a shower. Mike’s back in his camo pants and sweater. His knit cap and vest are in a plastic hospital bag. Joyce greets them all with a hug. Mike accepts the hug, but doesn’t hug back. And he doesn’t answer any of her questions. He just sits on the couch and stares at the wall, bag on his lap.
“I’m going to stay and do some laundry,” Joyce says. “Take a few things to Karen this afternoon.” She pats Holly’s arm. “Do you mind if I take you to see your mom later, instead of Nancy?”
Nancy wants to weep with relief. She didn’t want to leave Mike alone, but she had no intention of dragging him back to the hospital either. “Are you sure?”
“I am. And Will will be over later. I’m not sure about the others. I don’t want Mike to feel overwhelmed like last night.”
“Neither do I. Thank you, Joyce. I’d hug you again, but I’m disgusting.” She wrinkles her nose. ”Beyond disgusting. I’m going to go wash up.”
Joyce points to a piece of paper on the kitchen island. Nancy finds herself giving the floor in front of it a wide birth. “I spoke with a contractor Hop knows this morning.” She rubs her forehead. “Knew? He’s still in the process of coming back from the dead so things are a little…weird. Anyway, the contractor is scheduled to come over the week after next and start repairs. Hopper or I will make sure and be here, okay honey?”
Nancy doesn’t care if she stinks. She hugs Joyce. Hard. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re very welcome. Karen’s really helped me out these past months.” Joyce’s expression turns complicated. “I might start staying at the cabin more often, so you guys can start having more privacy.”
Jonathan pours himself a cup of coffee, sits at the kitchen table. “I’ll be leaving soon too.” He looks at Joyce, lifts an eyebrow. “In another month, I think?”
Nancy smiles to cover the fact she feels a little like crying. “I guess you’re not going to Emerson.”
He grins. “No. But I’m not going to Ivy Tech either.” Jonathan bows his head, suddenly shy. “Believe it or not, I got into NYU.”
Nancy stares in shock, then grins. “No way. How in the world did you manage that when you were high on–”
Jonathan elbows her, his eyes wide and screaming please stop talking. He fake laughs. “Ha ha, we weren’t hiding. We were starting a new life!”
Joyce seems to be extremely invested in stacking cans of Campbell's Soup in the cabinet, or maybe she’s faking too. Like mother, like son. Nancy huffs. Gives Jonathan a lopsided grin. “Congratulations, pal. You better still visit.”
His laugh is no longer fake. “I will.”
Mike still sits on the couch. Silent. Nancy runs a hand through his sweat-curled hair. “Hey, why don’t you use the shower downstairs? Once we’re cleaned up I’ll make something to eat, okay?”
No answer. Nancy bites her lip, swallows a sigh, and heads upstairs.
Mike goes downstairs. Slowly. There’s a basket of clean folded clothes he was supposed to put away last week, but didn’t. He runs his fingers over a pair of worn gray sweatpants. A brown striped long-sleeve shirt. White briefs. White tube socks. His dad’s boring white undershirts. Some of his mom’s flowery nightgowns. Holly’s Rainbow Brite pajamas. He thinks of his mom lying next to him last night. A Demogorgon dragging Holly away like it dragged Derek and the other kids while he did nothing. El just standing there, arms outstretched, sacrificing herself to save others. One of his torn fingernails catches on the sweatpants. Tears a little more. It hurts. But nowhere near enough. A bead of blood appears at the edge of his nail. He stares at it. The basket. The table where the Party plays D&D. The table in the corner. Mike clutches his stack of clothes and heads to the bathroom. Flicks on the light. Shuts the door.
El changed in here. The first night he met her. Back when she was 011 and not El.
Before she knew what privacy was. He leans his head against the mirror. Thinks of smashing his knuckles against it. Or his forehead. Cutting his wrists with the broken glass. Of showering and sneaking back out to the MAC-Z to look for her. She can’t really be gone. She can’t. There’s no way he can live without her. He doesn’t even want to try.
Mike opens the cabinet beneath the sink and stares at the bottle of Draino. He could drink it like a milkshake. Let it dissolve his throat. His esophagus. They feel half dissolved already. He inhales through his nose, exhales through his mouth. Closes his eyes. Gently shuts the cabinet. He strips, turns the shower faucet as far as it will go. Steps under scalding water. Stands there and lets it burn.
***
Steam follows Mike out of the bathroom. He is lightheaded. Sick to his stomach. To his soul. Will and Dustin lurk outside the door. As soon as he steps fully into the room they rush him, hugging him tight.
Dustin grips his shoulders. Grimaces. He looks like he hasn’t slept. “Are you okay? When did you get home? Do you need anything?” He takes a step back, peers into Mike’s face. “Shit, that petechiae makes it look like you’ve got a bad rash. And that bruise looks terrible, but we kind of match. Does it hurt? Do you need ice?” Mike looks past Dustin’s shoulder. Gives his head a minute shake. “I can’t believe this is happening.” He tosses his baseball cap onto the couch, runs his hands through his curls. “Did you guys hear that noise just before the Upside Down collapsed? Jesus Christ.” Dustin’s voice creaks like an old chair. “We defeated Vecna for this?”
Will glares at Dustin. Mouths, Shut up. “Heyyy man, are you forgetting we got Holly and the kids back?”
Dustin freezes. “Of course not! I don’t know what I’m talking about! Which isn’t something you’re likely to hear me say ever again, haha!” His laughter is forced. Nervous. He sinks onto the couch. Picks up his cap. Sets it back down. “Don’t listen to me, okay?”
Mike doesn’t. He’s busy. He pulls an old folded sheet from beneath a stack of even older board games. Battleship and Mousetrap fall to the floor. Will hurries over and picks them up while Mike drapes the sheet over the table in the far corner. His sleeping bag–which Mike hasn’t used since before Will and El moved to Lenora Hills–is on the storage shelf in the laundry room. The SuperComm is…he’s not sure. At the radio station? Still in the Bradley’s Big Buy truck? He can’t remember. He looks around the basement, frowning, one hand pulling idly at his hair.
Will pats Mike’s back. “Is there anything we can do?” He side-eyes Dustin. “I just think it’s a good idea if we stay together, you know? I really want to stay home from school tomorrow but we’ve all missed so much due to…everything.”
Dustin sighs dramatically. “Dealing with assholes who didn’t know her is not something I can handle right now.” It’s the truth. He can’t. The Party knew El best. Mike knew El best. Well, so did Hopper, but Hopper isn’t someone Dustin wants to hang out with.
Will and Dustin talk to, at, and around Mike. If his silence bothers them, they don’t let on. Lucas arrives and pounds down the stairs. More hugs are exchanged. Mike avoids eye contact but nods vaguely now and then. This doesn’t feel real. He doesn’t feel real. Lucas tells them several M35 cargo trucks pulled out of town this morning. Mike wonders how long until Kay leaves. Or if she’s already gone. But how can she be gone when she pursued El religiously for so long? He wishes Kay was dead instead of El.
“Oh, and guess what,” Lucas says, looking relieved. “Max finally got in touch with her mom!”
There are happy noises but Mike ignores them. He’s too tired for conversation. Which doesn’t make sense considering all Mike’s done for the past 12 hours is scream or sleep, but he’s still exhausted. El’s old fort is ready. He’s too tall to sit inside, but that doesn’t make a difference. He won’t be sitting. He crawls under the table, settles onto his side, and lies down. If he pulls his knees up to his chest he fits fine. All he needs now is the SuperComm. And Max’s coma. It’s a shitty thing to think. But he helped kill El, so there is more than enough evidence he’s a shitty person.
He can feel his friends stare. Mike doesn’t care. Without El, Mike finds he no longer cares about much. She was the glue that held his life together. That held him together.
“So, you, uh, have the Elcove back up, huh buddy?”
Lucas glances at Dustin. “The what?”
“You know, ‘Elcove’ instead of ‘alcove.’” When laughter and applause don’t immediately follow, Dustin says, “come on, it’s funny.”
Lucas makes a face. “Is it?”
Will clears his throat. Goes into placating mode. “I think it’s cool you put it back up, Mike. It’s a good way to feel close to El.” He gives Lucas and Dustin pointed looks. “But you never answered me before. Is there something we can do? Are you hungry? Do you want to talk about El?” He sits cross-legged in front of Mike’s fort. “About…anything?”
No answer.
“Or watch TV?”
No answer.
They look at each other anxiously.
Mike’s never been a blabbermouth, but he’s never gone silent either. Not when Will disappeared. Not when El disappeared. Not when Will and El moved away, or his parents were attacked or Holly got taken. He always puts on a brave face and tries to come up with a plan. He’s the Party’s leader for a reason.
But Will’s starting to wonder if, somewhere along the line, El became Mike’s brave face. She became his strength. Will tried not to dwell on Mike’s speech in the back of Surfer Boy Pizza, but it was impossible to ignore his endless I love yous and I can’t lose yous. But now what he’s feared most has come true. Will feels supremely shitty for ever feeling jealous of his sort-of sister. He misses El. Will’s vision blurs. Damn it.
“She saved me–she saved us–so many times.” Will grits out. “I wish I could have kept those stupid powers long enough to pull her out of that gate.” He flops back onto the floor, miserable.
Dustin slumps back on the couch. “Why didn’t Erica come with you?” He sounds like he has a head cold.
Lucas shakes his head. “No way, man. My parents are super pissed we missed school and we’ve been gone so much. So now we’re not allowed to be gone at the same time unless it’s for school. Erica’s a pro at sassing anyone…except for our mom.” He lies back on his elbows so he can keep an eye on Mike. “Erica feels bad, but the truth is, she didn’t know El that well.”
There’s more talking but Mike tunes it out. He knew something was bothering El, but he didn’t want to push it. He wanted to give her time, he figured they could talk about it after they dealt with Vecna. He was so stupid. He’s always stupid when it comes to El. Saying or doing the wrong thing. He made her doubt his love in Lenora Hills. Made her feel like she didn’t belong. This is the truth: El has always been smarter, better, stronger, braver, kinder than Mike.
He sensed something was off ever since they went to Hopper’s to use the bath. Since she and Hopper and Kali came out of the Upside Down. Because Kali told her what Kay was working on. Why the military wanted El so badly. And Mike was too glib about it. He can’t imagine how crushed El must have been. He covers his head with his arms. Actually he can. El wanted to live. She wanted to live and love and dream, but instead she–
Mike clenches his teeth so hard his jaw aches. He imagines grinding his teeth until his teeth are powder. He imagines running up the basement stairs and out the front door and down the street and all the way to the MAC-Z. He imagines smashing his head into the remains of the library until his skull is broken and his brains are pulp.
Mike sits up slowly, like he’s his grandpa’s age. He feels like he’s his grandpa’s age. Running to the MAC-Z seems like a good idea. He’ll be a toothless, brainless corpse. The military won’t know what to make of it. This makes him laugh.
Dustin, Lucas, and Will glance at him, startled. Will lifts an eyebrow. “Mike? Are you okay?”
Mike stares at Will. It’s a stupid question. He’ll never be okay again. He shakes his head. Will inches closer. “Does your throat hurt? Is that why you haven’t been saying anything? Will takes Mike’s hand in both of his. “I mean, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. Of course you don’t. I’m just–I’m just worried.”
Dustin throws his baseball cap at Will. “We’re just worried.”
Will sighs. “That’s what I meant.”
Mike’s eyebrows flicker up and down. His chapped lips are compressed into a thin trembling line. He runs his hands along the edge of his sleeping bag, and Lucas notices one of his fingernails is gross and blackened. And speaking of blackened, he looks like he was beat by the same assholes who jumped Dustin. Basically, he looks like ten kinds of shit. Mike closes his eyes. It looks like he’s trying very hard not to cry.
Lucas doesn’t bother trying not to cry. There’s a box of Kleenex on the table. He grabs one, blows his nose. He’s cried more times for Max in the past 18 months than he can count. He gets where Mike’s coming from. When Max died in that shitty attic Lucas thought he’d go crazy. But her heart started beating again, thanks to El. The only reason he knows is he accidentally overheard Mike and El talking when he was out of Max’s hospital room. El saved Max from almost 2000 miles away. Lucas doesn’t know why it’s a secret, but he’s more than willing to keep it. He made an effort to hug El as often as he could. Thanked her when she asked how Max was doing. When Mike visited El at the cabin, Lucas asked if he could come too.
Lucas knows what it’s like to watch the girl you love die a terrible death. Max laid in that bed for months but Lucas never gave up. He couldn’t. Not when he could see her face and hold her hand and kiss her cheek. Not when he could play her song and braid her hair. Not when he could read her books and talk to her and think about the day she would wake up. Because as long as he could sit by her bed, Lucas had hope.
And then Max woke up. Lucas’s dream came true. His girlfriend is alive and better than he ever imagined. She can see. She can move. She can smile. But there is no hope for Mike. No hospital bed for El. They all saw the explosion. El is just…gone. Evaporated. They can’t even have a funeral. Hawkins Lab gave Mrs. Byers a fake body for closure. Hopper doesn’t have anything. All Mike has is a rebuilt fort for a dead girl. Lucas blows his nose again. He wants to kick something. Stomp around the room. Punch the wall. Punch Dr. Kay. His days of wanting to be in the military are fucking over, man.
The truth is, Lucas is really scared for Mike and he doesn’t know what to do about it.
Mike whispers, eyes still closed: “No.” Lucas bugs his eyes out at Will. What the fuck does that mean? Will shrugs. Looks at Dustin. Dustin throws his hands up. And then throws them up higher.
“Uh, you mean you don’t feel like talking?” Will tries.
“Yes.” Mike confirms.
“Hey, that’s totally understandable,” Dustin says, standing up. “But you really sound like you need something to drink. What do you want? Soda? Water? Coffee? Lemonade? Chocolate milk?”
Will rolls his eyes. “Oh my God Dustin, just get some water.”
Dustin doesn’t have to because Joyce comes down with a tray stacked with grilled cheese sandwiches and a bowl of tomato soup. Nancy trails behind dressed in jeans and an Emerson sweatshirt. She’s carrying three green bottles of Ski soda and a thermos.
Joyce isn’t phased by Mike lying under the table. She’s seen worse. “Hey kiddo. I thought your throat might be sore, so I brought you some soup. The rest of you can have a sandwich. There are chips upstairs if you want some.” Joyce clears her throat. “I’m going to do a load of laundry and then go check on Hopper.” She tries to smile, can’t quite pull it off. Ruffles Will’s hair. “I’ll be back to take Holly to visit your Mom.”
Nancy sets the thermos on the table, hands each of the boys a glass bottle. Or tries to. Mike doesn’t take one. She sets it by him on the floor. Crouches. “I know you aren’t hungry but eat a few bites.” She taps the top of the “S” in Ski. “And you have to drink to here, okay?” She reconsiders. “If you don’t want soda there’s water in the thermos.”
No answer.
“I’m going to sit here and stare at you until you answer,” Nancy warns.
She can barely hear him over the noise of the washing machine starting up: “Okay.”
Nancy rubs his back for a moment: up, down. Up, down.
Mike takes a very small sip of soda. It tastes like orange-lemon. Like summer. Like riding his bicycle with the extra seat he attached for El, her arms wrapped around him, her laughter the sound of music in his ears. Like standing on Hopper’s porch and cupping her face in his hands. Of pressing his forehead against hers. He pushes the soda bottle away, lies back down.
Hawkins is no longer home. Neither is this house. El was Mike’s home. He has become homeless. Futureless. He rests his head on his arm and sees her running toward him outside the Squawk. Her crooked smile in the back of the truck, her hand on his arm. El’s sad determination inside the gate. Mike’s eyes burn. El was amazing. Is amazing. There are no words to describe just how important she was. Is. And Mike knows about words. He’s been writing his whole life. He’s not just the Party’s Paladin, he’s the Dungeon Master. He writes stories. But there are no words adequate enough, perfect enough to describe the wonder of El. The girl he loves most in every dimension, every world, every universe. Every version of Mike Wheeler loves El Hopper.
He flounders. Without El, Mike is incomplete. He is coming apart. If El died, so did he. His body is simply taking longer to shut down. He is missing something fundamental. Some part of his heart, his mind, no longer functions the way it is meant to. Mike wishes he could go back in time. Wishes he could re-kill Brenner for each time he made El cry. For each time he made her feel small or alone or powerless. He wishes he could kill that miserable fuckwad for restarting the program and making El think the only way she could save lives–including the lives of those she loved most–was to end her own. Mike knows El would sacrifice herself a hundred times over to prevent a single child from turning out like her. He pushes the heels of his palms against his eyelids. He hates the military and he hates Hawkins and the Upside Down. He hates Vecna and the Mind Flayer and the Abyss. He hates Prince. Mike hates and he hates and hates. But most of all he hates himself.
Because El died and he just stood there. He didn’t try to pull her out. He didn’t try to join her. He just screamed impotently. Mike should have tried harder to get away from the soldiers. He should have broken his wrist, his arm, anything to get away. He made the fucking timer, he knows how long the songs took to play. When Doves Cry and Purple Rain take 14 minutes and 53 seconds. It was supposed to be long enough to drive from the lab to the MAC-Z. It was supposed to be a night for celebrating. Not the worst night of Mike’s life.
Mike lies on his sleeping bag and tries to hold himself together. He feels like he’s been torn in half. Like he’s missing a limb. No, he’d give up a limb to get her back. He’d gladly trade an arm or a leg, both legs, a lung, a kidney, fifty years of his life, the rest of his life just to spend another day with her. To hold her again.
Mike loves Jane Hopper, Jane Ives, Eleven, El, El, El with all of his heart. With every cell of his being. He loves her on her good days and her bad days. He loves her with powers and without. He loves her for exactly who she is. He loves her alive and he loves her dead. He feels like he is dying. Because when Mike told her he didn’t know how to live without her he meant it. Every breath is torture. She took his oxygen. His light. His hope. All he feels is mindless terror. The thought of waking up in a world without her for days, for months, for years fills him with dread. Feels insurmountable. Makes him never want to wake up again.
When he was in the Void she said she would always be with him. How? In his memories? That’s not enough. Mike needs her. He needs her. His heart pounds in his chest, faster, faster. His body shakes as if he has a high fever. Mike tries to swallow but he can’t. He gags, wheezes. The sleeping bag spins beneath him. He clutches at his chest, it hurts. Tries to grip his shirt but his hand is numb. His head is filled with the thunderous drumming of his heart. He tries to feel relieved that he’s dying, he wants to hurry up and be with El, but his traitorous body fights back, desperate to breathe. He gasps, clawing at his throat. His body and brain are both filled with unrelenting panic, but beneath the cacophony he begs himself: shut up and die.
“--ke!”
It hurts. I’m scared. Shut up. Just die.
“--ike!”
El must have felt a thousand times worse than this. Mike squeezes his eyes shut, but tears still escape. Just die so you can go to her. His breathing makes a weird whistling noise in his throat. “El,” he gasps.
“Mike!” Dustin yells again. Mike’s not listening. His eyes are open but he’s staring blindly at nothing. He’s shivering and sweaty. His breathing sounds weird. His face is pale and pinched, like he’s in pain. A whistling noise comes from his throat, like he swallowed a dog toy. One hand grabs at the front of his shirt, the other scratches at his neck. Mike shivers harder. Wheezes, “El.” Tears leak steadily from his eyes.
The pain is so bad his blurry vision tunnels. Shadows spread across the room. Is he in the Upside Down? He tries to kick off the sleeping bag. Crawl away from the pain and into the darkness. Toward El.
The boys drag Mike out from the Elcove to give him more room. Lucas puts a pillow under Mike’s head. Dustin chews worriedly at a fingernail.
“Dustin.” Will does his best to sound calm. “Run upstairs and get some ice cubes from the freezer. Bring them back as fast as you can.”
Lucas bites his lip. Looks at the sweat on Mike’s forehead. How he’s struggling to breathe. He has a vague memory of his dad like this. And just like that, it clicks. “He’s having a panic attack! My dad said he had them when I was really little after he got back from ‘Nam.”
“That’s right. Dustin, hurry.” Will looks over his shoulder. “And tell my mom to come down!”
Dustin runs.
“Will your mom know what to do?” Lucas asks.
“I think so. I had panic attacks the first few times I saw Dr. Owens. I don’t remember much, but she might.”
“What’s the deal with the ice?”
“That’s the one thing I do remember.”
***
When Mike comes back to himself his hand is cold and wet. He blinks. He’s lying on the basement floor, surrounded by his friends, Nancy, and Mrs. Byers. He has a terrible headache. He’s exhausted, like he just tried to run from his house all the way to Hopper’s cabin. Hopper’s cabin makes him think of El. And El is still dead. His heart still pounds in his chest, but not as fast.
Nancy has her hand on his shoulder. He can’t tell if she’s trying to comfort him or hold him down. “You’re going to be okay,” she says.
Lie.
“Mike! Mike? Take a deep breath in through your nose and exhale through your mouth.” Will demonstrates. “Like this, okay? Do what I do.”
Mike doesn’t want to, but he finds himself doing it anyway. He lifts his hand, stares at the melting ice cube. Nancy smooths the hair off his forehead.
Joyce takes ice, drops it into a paper cup. “Sweetie, you were having a panic attack.” She offers Mike a drink from the thermos. “The sudden cold helps ground your overwhelming thoughts.” She’s said the same thing to Will on more than one occasion. Hearing her son talk Mike through his own panic fills her with a mix of pride and sorrow. When she swung the ax at Henry, all she felt was a dull relief. She wanted Will’s long ordeal over. Now, any sense of victory is gone. She feels only tired and heartsick.
Joyce wishes now she’d taken the boys and El back to Lenora once Henry opened the rifts. She could have convinced Hopper to come too, to flee Hawkins with the rest. But El wouldn’t have left Max helpless and in danger. And she especially wouldn’t have left Mike. Will would have argued. So would Jonathan. It’s all moot anyway. They stayed and fought and that beautiful girl is dead. Hopper lost another daughter. And Joyce can’t even blame Vecna.
“It stops the fight or flight response,” Will explains. “Can you hear the sound of the washing machine?” He puts the thermos in Mike’s hand. “Feel the plastic? Take a drink.”
Mike hears the whir of the washing machine. He feels the plastic. He feels the hard floor under his ass. He drinks water. It’s soothing against his throat.
“Do you think you can stand?” Mrs. Byers asks. “You should get into bed and stay there for a while. Panic attacks can really tire you out. I can reheat your soup later.” Her smile is just as plastic as the thermos. “Or I can make you something else. It’s no problem at all.”
Lucas and Nancy help Mike upstairs, and then up to his bedroom. Holly hovers in the kitchen, and then in his bedroom. Mike lets them tuck him into bed because nothing matters without El. Certainly not dignity.
Mike lies below his blue comforter. Holly lies above it. They face each other. “Do you remember when I was little and woke up from a bad dream, you would come and read to me?”
He nods.
“Do you want me to read to you?”
“No.”
Mike’s voice sounds like he’s really sick. Like what Mom calls a ‘frog in your throat.’ Only he doesn’t have one frog, he has a million.
He speaks slowly. In a way that makes her stomach hurt.
“I…wish. I…could…wake…up.”
He doesn’t sound like her brother, because Mike talks fast. And almost always sounds annoyed. Or exasperated. Or amused. Except when he’s with Holly. When he’s with Holly he’s patient. And he’s nice, like when he was telling her about Holly the Heroic. He never makes her feel stupid. But now he just sounds empty. Like everything that made him Mike has been scooped out and thrown away. And that? Scares Holly just as much as Henry did.
Later, Joyce takes Holly to visit Karen and Ted at the hospital. The boys are also at the hospital visiting Max. Or at Dustin’s. Truthfully, Nancy doesn’t know where they are. She can’t quite bring herself to care. Unless one of them can magically fix her brother, she has little use for any of them.
Mike’s still in bed, but he’s not sleeping. She knows what his breathing sounds like when he’s asleep, and this isn’t it. She waffles back and forth for a good ten minutes before turning on his dresser lamp and sitting on the edge of his bed.
“You’re awake, right?” The only answer is the rustle of blankets. “Do you think you can eat something?” She studies his sneakers by his desk chair. Several notebooks are on his desk. In the dim light she can see issues of Dragon Magazine, Fangoria, X-Men comics, and the latest issue of the New Yorker. “I’m really worried about you.”
Again, no answer. She tells herself to stay calm. Losing her temper isn’t going to help the situation..
“I wanted.” Mike takes a shuddering breath. “To keep her safe.”
“You’re just a kid,” Nancy says softly. “And it wasn’t your job.”
Mike pulls away from her.
Nancy backpedals. “I just mean Hopper was there too. We all were. It shouldn’t fall on you.” Her voice trembles. “But Mike, I’m so sorry you lost her.” She remembers her own misery and guilt over Barbara. It’s not hard because it’s still there. Just beneath the surface, always waiting. “You know…I was the one who dragged Barb to that stupid party at Steve’s house. Barb died because of me.”
Mike sits up. His hair is tousled. There’s a pillowcase crease on his left cheek. He speaks faster, a desperate whisper: “Did you make the Demogorgon that killed her?”
Nancy stares at him. “No. I’m trying to say I know what it’s like to feel alone and sad and full of regret. I can’t tell you how to feel, Mike. But I can tell you this: I’m here for you. We’re here for you. We love you.” She hugs him. “You’re not alone.”
Lie.
Because no matter how many people surround Mike, without El that’s exactly what he is.