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Mike’s foot taps on the too-clean tile of the kitchen, the exhausting turmoil of events that occurred in the last 24 hours playing over and over in his head.
Will coming out to the party—and a few(?) extra people, and supposedly calling Mike his Tammy…(who the hell is Tammy?)
Then, he had made a horrible fumble on the radio tower while they were climbing up, he had handed Will his water and then called the boy his best friend.
Why the fuck did he do that?
Mike stared out in front of him, at the same tile that his mom had dropped on the floor protecting Holly, the same floor that Holly had gotten dragged away on, and the same floor that had been scrubbed horribly clean because of the evidence.
After his conversation with Will, they became interstellar travelers, defeated the mind-flayer (technically not the ‘mind’ flayer because it had a solid form, but whatever.)
And everything had been fine.
Perfect.
The kids were back, Holly was back, Vecna was dead, and they were all unharmed and okay.
So he had thought.
Their tires were popped by the military—then when the traitorous voice in him insisted El was safe, that’s when he had seen her at the entrance to the Upside down.
Arms outstretched—and peaceful.
She looked peaceful.
Mike groaned out loud at the thought, bringing his shaking hands to his eyes, pressing the heel of his hand against his eyelids roughly until he saw bursts of color.
El was dead.
And he had built the bomb that had killed her, taking the rest of the upside down with her.
And the worst part?
He wasn’t even able to tell her that he loved her.
He just stood there like an idiot, hand placed awkwardly on her hip and blubbering like a five year old.
The ride back had been devastating.
With their van compromised and the tires popped like balloons, they each had to get a ride from one of the soldiers, which was really awkward.
Nancy had gotten off pretty easily, being assigned 4 months of community service was light work for his journalist sister.
No one had left without a dry eye, from what he heard from a sobbing Will was that Hopper had been wailing and Joyce was also crying.
Hell, everyone cried.
“She wasn’t supposed to die yet.” Mike whispered, his voice raw and silent from long minutes of crying.
He curled his knees closer to his chest, feeling more like the scared twelve year old boy he had been in 1983 when El sacrificed herself for the first time.
He had been so scared, yet so hopeful she would come back.
And she did.
But this time, no one was coming back.
She would never find her own style, never giggle softly again, never live the life she deserved, never experience happiness, she was always and forever going to be…
16.
Always sixteen.
Mike hid a whimper that built up in the back of his throat, burying his head in his arms.
Him, Nancy, and Holly had arrived to an empty home.
His parents were still in the hospital, and he had promised his mom he would get Holly back safe and sound, and he fulfilled his promise.
Mike’s traitorous mind kept going back to the fact he had built the bomb that killed his girlfriend, and the fact he couldn’t say three simple words.
I love you.
A choked sob bubbled from the back of his throat and his heart squeezed as the sob came out broken and wet.
Three waterfalls.
That’s what he had promised El.
He had promised they would get away, escape to another country, travel the world, escape from this cursed town.
Life’s not simple.
A new voice cut through the kitchen, startling Mike badly.
“I got Holly to bed, she was pretty reluctant but it only took two stories and—“
Nancy stopped dead in her tracks.
Mike knew he looked pathetic, hair tousled and roughed up from his beanie, eyes red and puffy from crying, shaking like a leaf in a thunderstorm.
“Oh, Mike.” Nancy whispered gently and sympathetically, coming to sit on his left, movements gentle as if she didn’t want to scare him.
“She’s dead, Nance.” Mike choked out.
“I killed her.”
Something flickered in Nancy’s expression.
Maybe it was disappointment, anger, disdain, or resentment.
“Mike—Mike you couldn’t have known she was going to…” Nancy stopped, not finishing her sentence.
Going to kill herself?
“I could’ve seen the signs, read between the lines, done anything to make her stay.” He fully turned to look at her, she was staring at him in shock.
“Mike..” she started, reaching out a hand to try to comfort him, but he didn’t want her hand.
Instead, Mike twisted his body and lunged at her, wrapping his arms around her middle and ignoring the help of surprise.
Nancy didn’t pull away, just relaxed and placed one hand on the back of his head as he broke out into ugly sobs, burying his head in her shoulder.
She cooed sympathetically and massaged his scalp, the two stayed silent because clearly words wouldn’t bring his girlfriend back.
“I killed her, it’s my fault!” Mike kept repeating, over and over.
Nancy shushed him fiercely, trying to get him to shut up.
“Shh, shh, Mike, no. You didn’t kill her, you just didn’t know.”
His only response was a loud whine.
The two stayed on the kitchen floor holding each other for who knows how long before Mike pulled away and wiped at his eyes.
“Thanks, Nance.” He mumbled, scrubbing viciously.
“You’re welcome.” She answered simply, “try to get some sleep, alright?”
Mike nodded and yawned, he was kind’ve sleepy.
“Mmmokay..” he mumbled, giving her one last grumbly goodnight before passing up the stairs.
He passed Holly’s room, and the door was cracked open a tad, the room was still slightly messy and various items were scattered throughout.
Yet she slept soundly.
His room was the very opposite.
The clean up crew had barely touched his room, and he gave up on the idea of sleeping there pretty quickly.
Instead he headed to the one other place in this house he found safe.
The basement.
After heading down the stairs, Mike glanced around.
It felt empty.
Cold.
Dead.
Like a part of it had died with El.
Mike didn’t truly know what to do, so he grabbed a blanket and sat on the couch, then grabbed a spare walkie talkie that was wedged between the beige cushions.
He had gotten this about a year ago for Max, planning to give it to her when she awoke from her coma, but apparently it had gone forgotten.
Shakily holding up the walkie talkie to his ears, he whispered:
“El, I don’t know if you’re hearing this, probably not, and that’s okay. I just wanted to give you a proper goodbye since…well I fumbled my last one. So thanks for being my girlfriend and dealing with me and my constant bullshit, I wasn’t a very good boyfriend and didn’t treat you the way you were supposed to be treated. You deserved better. But you were my light, I enjoyed every moment with you and truly felt like myself. I just wish I could’ve told you this instead of my pathetic goodbye, over.”
He waited.
The only response he got from the radio was static.