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It’s the end of the world, and Mike is limping his way through the Abyss.
He was surprisingly allowed by the others, despite being heavily injured by a demogorgon, and a target of Vecna’s - though only Will knew the latter.
Every step ached, as did every breath, every movement. He was armed, like the others, ready to fight even as his head started to ache.
He was in agony.
And it was so obvious.
He was no fighter, not like this. He should’ve stayed in the hospital, or at the SQUAWK with Max and Vickie.
But he couldn’t let himself stay behind.
He used the crutch he was relying on as a weapon, despite having a gun within his reach. But he had limited bullets. He had to save them for the big bad.
So here he was swinging his crutch at demogorgons, trying not to break down in fear of being injured again.
He can feel his stitches tear, feel blood stain the layers of clothing.
Pain floods through him even further as a second demogorgon tries to slash at his throat.
Will pulled him back just in time, doing just what he did in the MAC-Z. Mike watched the demogorgons drop dead. Will clutches Mike so hard he’s left with bruises. He can’t even see Will’s face and knows he’s in pain.
Mike holds down the fort, paired with Joyce who of course was protecting Will.
It took Will some time to recover. As of now it looks like they hadn’t gotten to anyone of note, though Will still needed help. He was in pain.
Mike would take it all if he could.
He ends up rushing ahead, blood staining the camo vest. He was in trouble.
He didn’t care, pulling the gun out to shoot at some demobats that tried to attack him, silently apologizing to Will as he did all he could to fight off the demos.
Eventually Will and Joyce catch up. And they hide.
He and Will need to recuperate. Mike justifies and focuses on breathing, checking the wound his torn stitches left. It didn't look so bad, but there was still a lot of blood. He tried to hide it but Will caught sight, and he alerts Joyce.
There’s no stitching but the wound is packed and bandaged for now. Mike still feels weak.
He watches from their semblance of safety as Nancy shoots at the Mind Flayer.
She runs, clearly with a plan, but she’s at risk.
Of course she is.
They all are, but he can’t lose Nancy. Not after losing their dad and nearly their mom, too. Especially when they still need to get Holly back.
Will finds his hand and squeezes.
Mike, still so weak, squeezes back.
“We need to stop it from hiring Nance.”
Except Nancy is incredibly skilled and they have a plan and Mike is not privy to it.
And he’s too injured to be of help.
Joyce points that out.
But he still tries, still makes his way. He’s followed. He can practically feel Will’s agony.
His head is killing and he feels sick, just like he has this entire time, but worse.
The crutch is damaged, worse at supporting him now as he hobbles forward. He doesn’t know what he’s doing but he’s walking on autopilot, gun loaded and ready.
But it drops when a clock rings out.
And nearly every fucked up demo-being is focused on him.
The gun wasn’t even heavy.
The demos rush after him, and he can barely move, barely being supported.
His wounds tear as he’s clawed at, and he cries out in pain, the crutch being the sole reason he doesn’t collapse, despite the blood that pours from the wound in his chest.
That support doesn’t last, because soon he’s falling.
And falling.
And falling.
And he’s no longer in the Abyss and instead falling into Lover’s Lake.
Fear hits.
Pain is still coursing through his body even if now there’s oddly no blood, no wounds, even.
He keeps falling. He heard mixes of voices, unable to pinpoint a word.
He realizes what’s happening as he hits the water.
He continues to fall.
He’s drowning.
His body feels like lead. It feels fake, heavy.
And he can’t move.
But he screams.
He screams and chokes on water, cursing out Vecna, crying for Will.
He sounds like a child. Even with his voice garbled by water.
He’s desperate.
So weak and so desperate and of course he remembers this but he also doesn’t remember drowning in the damn lake.
Because he didn’t.
El saved him.
But here…he’s drowning, with no reprieve. Vines wrap around his limbs, the grip bruising. The same is done to his neck, and his state worsens, vision fading as he inhales water, choking on it.
Then…everything changes.
Everything around him is red. It’s the Abyss…but it also isn’t.
Vecna’s in front of him. He’s tied up with vines, coughing as vines wrap around his entire body.
He felt sick, he couldn’t breathe, and was panicking.
He could hear Will’s voice from somewhere. He didn’t know where.
He couldn’t get a word out in defense either. He tried to fight, claw at the vines, only for it to be no use.
But he still tries. Still feeling like he was dying, feeling like he was drowning on dry land.
Vecna walks closer. The vines tighten around his wrists.
“Don’t worry, Michael, everything will be over soon.”
He screams, cries, begs for anyone to help him.
“No one can save you, you must accept it.”
His clawed hand came up, covering Mike’s face nearly completely.
He shudders, unable to stop anything before Vecna grips his head, and forces it back.
He is filled with utter agony but can’t react, soon feeling phantom hands on his legs.
The vines loosen. Vecna’s hand snaps.
And Mike runs.
He feels like he’s dying but he runs like hell, through that opening in the Mindscape, our into the Abyss.
He knew Will did it.
Of course he did.
Mike can’t see anything but he can feel that he’s being held, that safety there even hidden under the agony.
He can’t move his arms, or really any part of his body. He can’t tell what Vecna did.
But a hand is wiping blood from under his eyes and he can hear so many voices bleed together and he feels like he’s dying.
But he can tell he’s in Will’s lap.
He looks up at him, not that he can see, imagining what he looks like.
Worried, disheveled, probably in agony himself with tears in his eyes and blood pouring from his nose.
If Mike could, he’d wipe those tears and kiss him better and take care of him.
But he can’t.
He’s stuck lying here.
Hearing everyone fight.
“I can’t see…” He mumbles, scared. He bets Will and Joyce can tell.
Will squeezes his hand. He just barely feels it, he feels the brush. He can just…tell.
Will clings to him, protecting him. “They’re close, they almost have him, you need to hang on Mike, please hang on…”
Fear hits him twofold. Nancy and Holly.
Nancy and Holly would be terrified. Everyone would be.
He feels so guilty.
Will kisses his forehead.
That he can feel.
“I have you, Mike. I won’t let you die, just hang on..”
It’s like Will read his mind.
He tries to hang on. He does.
He’s almost passed out when he hears that the Mind Flayer is dead. That Vecna is dead.
He only knows because Will screams in agony, sounding like he’s dying too.
Mike can’t help. He wants to.
Will is practically doubled over, over Mike, wailing. And Mike can’t fix it. He just has to hear Will cry and scream like he’s dying. And he prays to a god he stopped believing in that Will won’t.
It takes such a long time before they start moving.
Will’s still alive, and Mike just knows he’s injured, hurt, a part of him dead. He shouldn’t be awake. Or alive.
Granted neither should he.
When they get to wherever they need to be, he’s barreled into by two people.
He doesn’t need to hear their voices to know they’re his sisters.
Joyce shifts him into Nancy’s arms, and he hears her crying, promising they’ll get him help.
He knows they will.
Mike listens as Vecna is killed. Nancy is holding him. She tells him Will’s using Joyce’s axe.
Memories flood through his mind. He cries blood.
Losing Will, finding Will’s body, nearly killing himself, El disappearing, the Demogorgons, Dart, the Mind Flayer, the Demogorgon attacks, Will being injured, the military being after them, him nearly being killed by Vecna.
He can nearly feel the tether to the lich snap at the same time he hears something gross hit the floor.
Nothing changes.
He feels so weak.
And he’s soon out like a light.