Chapter Text
Mike Wheeler isn’t alright, and it’s been that way for as long as he could remember. His family seemed so perfect; his mother always dressed up no matter the occasion, his father with a high paying job, not to mention his top-of-the class sister. And him, the out of control son that just doesn’t seem to fit in.
Since he was a kid, he’s always had this sinking feeling that he would never be good enough for the world. Except when he’s around Will. When he told Will the day he met him was the best day of his life, he was telling the absolute truth. With Will he feels like he has a purpose, and like there’s really hope for the future. But Will has been distant lately, and Mike can’t seem to find much of a reason to keep going.
He feels so stuck in his mind, with constant negative thoughts that just plague his mind like clockwork. He doesn’t think he can take it anymore, but he can’t even begin to think about asking for help.
Instead he turns to other ways of coping; skipping meals, lying about where he’s been, and hiding in his room with a pocket knife. He hates it, but he can’t seem to stop because it’s the only way he knows to keep going. He doesn’t know what he’d do without his secret coping strategies.
-
Mike sits alone on his bed, staring at the wall. Today has been horrible. His eyes well up with tears as he recounts the day in his mind.
He remembers breakfast. Joyce was taking both her sons to dentist appointments, so it was just the wheeler family at the table. His dad had been reading the newspaper, which was a normal thing, except for the fact the article he was reading was titled, “The AIDS Crisis: a Homosexual Disease”, and he had an especially strong opinion about those people.
He began rambling on about, “those queers”, and “god’s punishment”; unknowingly sitting at a table with one of these so called queers. Mike sat there avoiding eye contact while his father spewed his hatred.
“Ted honestly! Will you just be quiet please?” Mrs. Wheeler shouted at her husband. “We are trying to have a nice breakfast, and we don’t need you talking about this!”
“What? I’m just reading the newspaper!” Ted retorted. Mrs. Wheeler gave him a stern look that made him give up. “Fine, alright I’ll just keep the newspaper to myself then.” He pulled the paper closer and turned his complete attention towards it.
Mike sighed a sigh of relief that it was over. He couldn’t stand his father’s words, piercing his chest like arrows, hitting him right where it hurts. He pushed pieces of pancake around on his plate, and decides to clear his plate. As he cleans off his plate he thinks of what his dad said. He’s known he was gay, after everything in California he had no doubt. But he hates it, and as much as he loves Will, he’s too afraid of the consequences confessing might have.
Mike finishes washing his dish and puts it on the rack. He turned to walk up the stairs and to his room when the front door opened. It was Will.
Mike paused as Jonathan trailed in behind Will, Joyce not far behind. He wanted to keep walking, but Will was looking at him like he wanted to say something, and he couldn’t bring himself to move.
Mrs. Wheeler waved Jonathan and Joyce into the kitchen to have breakfast, while Will and Mike silently wandered towards the basement.
“I need to talk to you.”
Mike gulped and nodded okay. He wasn’t sure what Will wanted to say but he didn’t think it’d be good.
Now, knowing what he’d wanted to talk about, he wishes he’d just continued walking.
They went downstairs and stood in the middle of the basement. Mike waited for Will to speak, nervously fiddling with his fingers.
“Are you okay?”
What?
“What?”
Will began to elaborate. “I just-, well you just seem kind of…” Will trails off.
“Kind of what?” Mike didn’t mean for it to come out as harshly as it did.
“Distant!” Will exclaimed suddenly.
Mike froze at that. He had been distant, especially from Will. He didn’t want to risk being too obvious and weird Will out.
“I’ve been busy!” Mike lied.
“With what? I’ve barely seen you anywhere but your room the whole time I’ve been here!”
“None of your business, okay? I just have things to do.” Mike lowered his voice, realizing the volume he was reaching. He didn’t know why he was lying; he wanted so badly to tell him, to let him know how he was feeling. It just felt impossible to get out of his throat.
“Fine.” Will turned and walked around the couch, sitting down in the middle. Mike took this as his cue to leave and quickly went up the steps and made his way to his room.
He now sits in his room, eyes filled with tears as he looks around his room. His eyes land on a drawer, in it sitting an old pocket knife he’d found in the woods and cleaned. He sits, contemplating the idea before he gets up, walking towards the door and locking it. He doesn’t want anyone to come in while he’s doing this.
He walks over to the drawer and takes the knife, hand shaking as he picks it up. He rolls up his sweater on his left arm and flips open the knife. His arm is almost covered in scars, some older and some newer. He takes a deep breath and moves the knife closer. He winces slightly as the cool blade presses into his arm, over and over.
When he’s done he closes the knife and watches the blood before he remembers a box of bandages under his bed. The blood suddenly begins dripping from his arm and onto the floor, staining the carpet.
He hisses in annoyance and quickly grabs the box. He gets out gauze first and stops it from dripping more. Then, he gets bandages and wraps the gauze semi-tightly around his forearm. He’s gotten pretty good at cleaning up his messes after a while.
Just as he finishes securing the bandage, a knock at the door startles him.
“Mike?”
It was Nancy.
“Can I come in?” She asked.
“Yeah, one second!” Mike scrambled to put the box back under the bed and the knife back in the drawer as quiet as possible. He rolled down his sleeve and got up to open the door.
“Hey Nance, what’s up?”
Nancy looked at him with an unreadable expression. “Can I come in?”
“Uhh-“ Mike looked behind him quickly, “Yeah, come in.” He pulled open the door wider for her to walk through.
Her and Mike walked over near his bed, and Nancy looked at him. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“Look, I know we haven’t really been talking much, but I just want you to know that you can come to me. Just- about anything, I’m here for you. Okay?” She looked at him softly, waiting for him to answer.
“Okay.” Mike nodded with tear rimmed eyes. Nancy continued.
“I know our parents can be a lot,” Nancy stated. “But I think they mean well, at least mom does.”
Mike nodded in agreement. His mom was the first person he went to when Will’s fake body was discovered.
“Anyways, I also wanted to tell you,” Nancy started, “Your friends are having a movie night tonight and they wanted me to ask you to come. So will you?”
Mike thought about it. He hasn’t been hanging out with the party much, and he skipped the last movie night they had because he was too tired. He decides that he doesn’t want to go tonight, after what happened with Will this morning.
“Not tonight, I have some stuff I need to do.”
-
A couple hours after the conversation with Nancy, he sneaks down the stairs and into the basement, where he hopes nobody will be. He doesn’t see anyone when he walks in, so he continues with his plan.
He walks over to the front of the couch and starts reaching underneath it. He searches until he finds a tin container. He pulls out the container and looks at it.
He opens it up and inside is more joints than he can count. He puts three in his pocket and quickly puts the rest back under the couch.
Back in his room, he lights one of the joints and takes a puff, then blowing the smoke out the window. He can’t let the rest of the house smell what he’s doing.
After he takes another few puffs he starts to feel the effects and puts it out. He puts the joints with his cigarettes and lighters in a shoebox under his bed, his usual hiding spot. Then, he crawls into his bed and wraps himself in blankets. Hopefully now he’ll be able to sleep without the nightmares.
-
Mike awoke to a knocking on his door.
“Mike! dinner!” His mom shouted.
“Okay!” He sighed and rolled over to face the wall. He did not want to get up and eat dinner or see Will right now.
He sighed again and pulled his blankets off. His mom would never leave him alone if he didn’t come down. He got up and trudged down the stairs, dreading the meal already. He decided that he would just look at his plate and focus on his food, not look at Will.
As he sat down with his plate he noticed that Will would have to sit to the left of him. “Shit.” Mike thought.
It’s alright, he will just face his plate and everything should be fine. He definitely will not freak out, and everything will be fine.
Eventually, everyone sat down and began to chat. Mike didn’t bother listening; he was too busy focusing on his food and not looking at Will.
“Yeah that’s right, isn’t it Mike?” His mom turned to him.
Mike suddenly looked up, confused. “What?”
“Your birthday! It’s coming up,” Mrs. Wheeler explained. “I was just talking to Joyce about how you boys are already in high school.”
“They grow up so fast.” Joyce said breathily.
Mike nodded to his mom in understanding and took a drink of water.
“Yep, pretty soon both you boys will be applying for colleges…” His mom droned on about the colleges she wanted him to attend. He didn’t really feel the need to look at colleges, they just didn’t seem important compared to everything else going on.
Mike cleared his plate quickly, leaving most of his food almost untouched. He threw the rest away and went back upstairs before someone could try to talk to him.
When he got back to his room he collapsed onto his bed. He is so exhausted, he doesn’t want to deal with everything anymore. Not for the first time, he considers riding to the quarry and jumping off, or grabbing his knife and bleeding out in the bathroom.
God, he is so fucked up. He doesn’t know why he even exists anymore. All he does is ruin things. He ruined his relationship with El because he didn’t love her. And he ruined his relationship with Will because he’s a horrible friend. Tears begin to pour from his eyes.
He’ll never get himself together, and he doesn’t want to keep hurting people around him. It’s better off this way.
Mike stands up and walks over to his desk, grabbing his notebook. He has to leave them something, he needs to tell them why.
If you’re reading this, it probably means I’m dead. I can’t take it anymore. Everything is too much and all I do is ruin things. I’m sorry Will, I love you. I know you probably don’t feel the same and might even think I’m disgusting but, I had to tell you. I’m sorry to everyone, I never meant to hurt any of you. Please don’t blame yourselves, you couldn’t have helped me, I didn’t want to be helped.
He rips the note out of his notebook and puts it folded up on his desk, picking up a pencil to write one last thing on the front.
“Goodbye.”
He then walked over to the drawer, pulling out his knife. He can’t believe this is how he’s going to go; after surviving every life-threatening situation, Mike Wheeler is going to kill himself.
He opens his door and makes his way to the bathroom without seeing anyone. He closes the door and looks in the mirror. His eyes have dark circles and his face looks gaunt.
“Disgusting.” Mikes thoughts whispered. Mike turned his back to the door and opened the knife. He slid his back down the door slowly until he was sitting. Nothing was stopping him now.
He took off the bandages on his left arm, he didn’t need those anymore. After he was done he took the knife and pressed into his wrist. The pain was excruciating, but he continued. His vision began to get blurry as blood started to pour from his veins. He felt his body get heavy as he laid there, slowly losing consciousness. He felt a sense of peacefulness as he drifted into darkness.