Chapter Text
“Mike, I need you to come get me, please. I need to get out of New York- I want to come back to Hawkins.”
That was all Mike needed to hear before quickly muttering out an,
“I’ll be there tomorrow.”
The connection was cut immediately. Mike knew it was purposeful. Will didn’t want to speak to him. They hadn’t spoken since his third month in New York—to no one’s fault but Mike’s own. He could have called Will. Could’ve said he was sorry for so many things. This was his first time hearing Will’s voice in two years, and he was already falling back in. He didn’t even know Will had his new phone number. Thinking about that made shame bloom from somewhere deep within his chest. If he had reached out once, maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe, by some power, Will could have pulled Mike out of the hole he’d landed in, and he’d be in New York with him right now.
Mike didn’t go anywhere after he graduated. He stayed in Hawkins alone—save for his family. While the old party was working to fulfill their dreams, Mike had been working a repetitive, boring office job, going nowhere with his life. Holly had offhandedly compared him to his father once, and the mere image of that has consumed his mind since. A life like this forever. Work, home, sleep, work, home, sleep, a cycle that would continue forever.
Mike dwells on their past a lot. The things he said to Will, the way he acted, the things he should have said, the way he should have acted. It loops in his mind, never relenting. A nonstop battle he’s fighting with himself.
He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to face Will. They’d become different people in the time they’ve spent with no contact between them. Mike thinks about him often, and he’s sure Will doesn’t think about him at all. The last time they saw each other, they were still the people they’d always been. Mike hasn’t grown at all. Will grew up without him.
After packing to be on the road for quite a few days, Mike stopped by his parents’ house to let them know he’d be gone—not sparing any details, just that he wouldn’t be there for Christmas Day that year. His mom immediately jumped to worry, saying she would drive him anywhere he needed, and while he tried to reassure her he was just going to visit someone, she could see through him.
She always could tell when something was bothering him. The months following November 1987 had divided them like nothing else. Mike not letting his walls down and Karen not letting them be completely put up in the first place. Even so, through all of it, she hadn’t relented on her physical attention towards him—hugs, a hand on his shoulder, a kiss on the forehead when he still lived with them.
He turned to leave before she placed a warm hand on his shoulder, forcibly turning him to face her more,
“Mike, honey, please- Something is wrong. I can’t let you leave when this is all you’re telling me. Did something happen?”
“Mom,” Mike slowly shook his head, a pitiful attempt to bring any words to say to his head. “Will called. Didn’t even know he had my new number. He called, and- and he sounded weird, and I need to get him.”
She let the words loom in the air before placing a hand on his cheek to guide his eyes to hers, Mike hadn’t even realized he wasn’t looking at her. A hint of a grin and a flicker of understanding washed over her face as she gently nodded.
“Be careful driving. Roads are iced over.”
Mike wanted to smile at her, wanted to tell her that he’d be back with Will in no time, wanted to hug her before he left, but he couldn’t. All he could do was nod back and let the hand slip from his cheek as he turned.
Leaving Hawkins was weird. He didn’t leave often. Hawkins was the one constant in his life so far—when everything else had come and gone and almost left and had never even gotten there in the first place. He wishes he could associate better memories with it, but in the end, all he could ever remember was what left him there. His friends had left, Will left, El left, Nancy left, and Holly will eventually leave too. Years ago, staying in Hawkins sounded perfect. He would find a woman to like, settle down in a house perfectly situated at the end of a cul-de-sac, and start a beautiful family. His father instilled that scenario into his head as soon as he could form a memory. Ted told him that Mike would make him proud, that he would be just like him, that he would prove the Wheeler men were something great. Mike wasn’t anything great. He wouldn’t have been anyway. He wishes sometimes he were. Maybe he would’ve been if he had chosen differently back then.
The roads were packed. Five days until Christmas. It was just headlights blurring together beneath the dull sky. Every time he hit a patch of ice, his knuckles tightened around the steering wheel. The radio cycled through tinny Christmas songs he didn’t remember liking, and he turned it off after the third one made his chest ache. Just two hours ago, his phone had rung, and as soon as he heard Will utter his name, he knew he’d be here. It was then he realized he’d dropped everything to go running back to Will. Mike was pathetic. He’ll always be pathetic when it comes to Will. Or maybe he wasn’t. Old friends do favors for each other all the time. That’s all this is. But his foot was already pressing harder on the gas, and he hadn’t hesitated for even a second when Will asked.
As he got further away from Hawkins, Mike couldn’t help but wonder if this was how Will had felt when he left.
Mike had been driving for 4 hours consecutively when he spotted a motel off the next exit. He didn’t even know where he was at this point, some small town in central Ohio. All he could think about was getting to Will. He went through the motions of getting a room in a blur, with the only thing he could hear being the blood rushing through his head. It was then that he realized it was barely nine at night. All he wanted to do was sleep so tomorrow would be sooner, and he could get to Will sooner. He changed into something comfortable to sleep in before lying down, not even bothering to crawl under the covers—too tired. God, he was so tired.
Despite the tiredness coursing through him, sleep wouldn’t come. It felt like he’d been lying there for hours, but when he cracked an eye open, it had only been half an hour. He slowly dragged his body to sit before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and standing, his knee popping from the sudden movement. There was a pay phone just outside the motel. Mike was just going to call and let Will know when he’d be there, that’s all this was, but he could feel his heartbeat pounding in his throat. He fished his wallet out from his discarded pants he’d left on the floor, shaking it just enough that some change fell out.
He slipped his shoes on before opening the door and braving the cold air that hit him. The snow on the ground was covering the ice underneath, startling him when his foot began to slip. He caught and steadied himself before pulling his room's door shut, making sure it hadn’t locked before he made his way just outside the motel’s office. The neon sign above was flickering, matching the beat of his heart in an almost mocking way. Mike lifted the phone’s heavy receiver, the cord landing against his wrist as he fed coins into the slot before dialing Will’s number from memory. The ringing echoed in his head, making him feel uneasy as he shifted his weight from his left foot to his right. Mike almost thought he wasn’t going to answer when the ringing stopped, and he heard that unfamiliar voice again.
“Hello?” Will’s voice had matured. He sounded so much older, much more tired, and just a twinge more confident than he had last time they spoke. Mike wonders if his appearance has changed this much, too. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding,
“Hey, Will, um—“ He was almost immediately cut off.
“Mike?” And the way Will said that made his voice sound just a little bit more like it had years ago.
“Yeah.”
“It’s almost ten at night.” The signal faltered just the slightest bit as he said that.
“I’m in Ohio. I’m going to make it to you tomorrow by five.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
The line was quiet for some time before it cut. Will hung up. Mike felt a wave of nausea hit him as his mouth watered and his face flushed.
“Shit.”