Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Drip.

I glide the sharp blade over my forearm again, watching as the blood wells up and flows steadily into the sink. The crimson liquid captivates me, reminding me that I am human. This, I can control.

It takes away the pain.

Pulling on a long-sleeved shirt, I wince as the fabric catches onto my haphazardly bandaged wounds, shooting a sharp pain through my body.

‘As if cutting myself is going to make anything better…’ I think, grimacing as I look into the cracked mirror that leans against my bedroom wall.

I must admit, I look like shit.

My hair seems to stick up at odd angles - no matter how much I try to flatten it. There are dark circles under my eyes from my lack of sleep. And it’s so obvious how badly I’ve let myself go.

When did it get like this..?

I’m snapped out of my daze by the sound of my mom rapping softly on my bedroom door. “Will?” She calls softly. “Breakfast is ready.”

With a heavy sigh, I bend down to tie my shoelaces. “I’m coming, mom!” I answer, tugging my sleeve down to cover any evidence of my self-injury.

Same thing. Every day.

As I walk to the kitchen, the scent of scrambled eggs and burnt bacon fills the air - a nostalgic smell.

I walk to the counter and grab a small piece of bacon before taking my backpack and heading off to school.

My bike is out front where it always is. I sling my bag over my shoulders and hop onto my bike, tossing the uneaten bacon into the driveway.

I’m not hungry…

When I get to school, I plaster on my carefully curated smile, hop off my bike, and walk up to meet my friends.

“Dude, you look like shit.” Lucas observes, a hint of concern creeping into his tone as he takes in my disheveled appearance.

“Yeah, I didn’t sleep very well last night.” I reply, mindlessly scratching the back of my neck forming faint red lines where my nails dug in.

“Then you should go to sleep earlier.” Mike adds, nodding.

Mike.

The first person I’ve ever loved. The only person I’ve ever loved.

Michael Wheeler.

The boy who’s dating my sister. The boy who will never see me in that light…

I’m snapped out of my thoughts by the first period bell. Quickly saying my goodbyes, I rush to my first period class.

The day slips by quickly, and before long, the final bell signals that it’s time to go home.

Upon stepping outside, I find my friends clustered around my bike, their faces unreadable. Intrigued and uneasy, I approach them to see what’s wrong.

That’s when I see it.

My bike lies in pieces. Dismantled. Next to it lies a crumpled note, scrawled hastily on a piece of scratch paper.

“This is for being a fag, Zombie Boy.”

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

Fag.

Zombie boy.

I let out a shuddering breath before turning on my heel to walk home, my back to my friends whose voices are just a distant murmur.

I want to die.

The thought pops into my head so suddenly that I nearly pause.

‘Do I really want to die..?’ I think, reluctantly twisting the handle to the front door of my house, the cold handle bringing me back to reality.

I’m greeted by my mother and Jonathan. My mother hugs me while Jonathan asks me how my day went. After muttering something along the lines of “It was fine”, I head to my room, closing the door behind me with a soft click.

I sit down on my bed, pulling the blanket around my shoulders - attempting to find some warmth and safety that I desperately crave.

I try to concentrate on steadying my breathing, but my thoughts keep spiraling back to my bike, mangled on the pavement.

Fag.

Zombie Boy.

The words bounce around in my mind, stirring a growing dread that settles heavily in the pit of my stomach.

My eyes come to land on the box of pain medication that my mother stored in here from when Jonathan broke his leg a few years ago.

Could that be a key to escape..?

The thought hangs in the air as I move towards the box, my movements bordering on robotic as if I’m merely a puppet on strings.

Unscrewing the lid off of a bottle of Ibuprofen, I dump the contents into my hand, examining the small white pills.

After a brief moment of hesitation, I swallow them all, the bitter taste a reminder of my mortality.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear a knocking on my door. The last thing I remember is Jonathan’s frantic voice urging my mother to call an ambulance.

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

I don’t know why I’m still alive.

Why am I alive?

The steady rhythm of the heart monitor is the first thing I hear as I slowly regain consciousness. As I try to sit up, I wince. My entire body feels heavy, almost lifeless.

Looking down at my torso I see that I’m bare from the waist up. Panic sets in.

I failed.

I’m such a disappointment that I can’t even succeed in ending my own life.

The beeping of the heart monitor quickens, and two nurses come into the room and administer some sort of sedative to calm me down.

——————————————————————

When I come to, my mom is sitting in a chair next to my hospital bed, staring at the scars on my arms as if it was she was the one to blame for my pain.

As soon as she notices that I’m awake, she straightens up, tears shimmering in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

“Will..” She begins, but her voice cracks, choked by a sob.

I look down at my arms, only now noticing how badly I’ve hurt myself. There was a twisted kind of relief in the pain I had inflicted upon myself. An addiction.

Jonathan burst into the room, breathless. “Will!” He exclaims, rushing to crouch next to our mom. “We thought…” His voice trails off as he searches my face for answers. “Why..?” He asks quietly, looking from my arms to my face.

“I’m fine,” I reply - my go-to response.

“No, no the fuck you’re not!” Jonathan jumps up, tears streaming down his face. “You tried to kill yourself, Will, you’re not fine!”

“Yeah, so what if I tried to kill myself, it’s not like you’d actually give a shit if I died.” I retort.

Jonathan recoils as if physically hurt.

“Will…” My mother says, trying to hold it together. “Why didn’t you tell us that you were.. hurting..” She asks, clutching the hem of her shirt.

“I..” Now it’s my turn to cry. I try to explain everything, but I sound so pathetic. The voice in the back of my mind is calling me useless. I’m useless. I’m a freak. I’m a failure…

Jonathan’s expression softens, and somewhere, I see a flicker of pain and fear.

“You could’ve told me, Will..” Jonathan says, resting his hand on mine. “I don’t ever want you to feel like the pain is too much to bear, so you have to… end it..” He takes a shuddering breath, calming himself.

“I can’t anymore…” I whisper, avoiding their eyes.

“Yes, you can.” My mom chimes in, wiping tears from her face. “You aren’t alone in this. We’ll be here for you every step of the way.”

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

“Will!” Mike rushes towards me, enveloping me in a tight, almost desperate embrace. “Don’t ever do that again, you scared the shit out of me.” He breathes, his voice low as he finally releases me.

It’s been about a week since I’ve been discharged from the hospital, yet my mom still keeps me on a tight leash, insisting that I stay away from everyone until she’s sure I’m recovered. Even today, she looks at me as if I’m nothing but a hurt puppy.

Mike’s eyes betray a hint of the underlying worry and anxiety. There are dark circles under his eyes, evidence of sleepless nights. Were they my fault?

“I’m sorry, Mike, I just..-“ My voice trails off. I have no words.

“It’s okay.” Mike replies, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

I smile weakly. He doesn’t know what this does to me, does he? He has no idea, the effect he has.

“Do you want to come ‘round my place? We can watch something.” Mike suggests, smiling.

Despite his smile, I know he’s worried. I can see right through him. His voice is an octave too high. He’s fidgeting more than usual. He’s afraid he’ll break me.

I’m fragile.

But I’m not fragile. I’m not. He doesn’t know what it’s like, to struggle like this. To crave the pain. To want to end your own life.

“You coming?” Mike asks, turning to look at me, his eyebrows raised slightly.

Dammit.

“Y-yeah, I’m coming.” I reply, forcing myself to follow him to his home.

Why do I love him…

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

I sink into the couch, the rough fabric scratching at my pants.

“So.. What do you want to watch?” Mike asks, plopping down next to me.

“I don’t care, Mike, you pick,” I reply, offering him a warm smile.

He’s adorable…

I watch him intently, captivated by the way his dark curls bob against his forehead as he scans the shelves for a movie we both like.

After having sketched him countless times, I’ve practically memorized his features - the delicate curve of his cupid’s bow, the slight hook of his nose, the way he pouts slightly when he’s frustrated…

“Is this movie good?” Mike asks, gesturing to a VHS he had grabbed from the shelf.

“Yeah, that’s good,” I reply, averting my gaze from him in an attempt to prevent the warmth rising to my face.

Mike puts the movie in with practiced ease and sits back down next to me, our knees brushing ever so slightly.

I shouldn’t react this way, but if you could’ve seen the way I flushed! It was probably an accident, or a mere platonic gesture - but it’s not easy to think like that when you’ve been pining after him for years.

“Are you okay?” Mike asks, a hint of concern in his voice.

“Yeah,” I reply sheepishly. “It’s just hot in here.”

I’m a terrible liar.

Fortunately, Mike doesn’t press further, and he gets up to turn the fan on before finally sitting down.

“Thank you,” I say, giving him a small smile.

He nods quickly, his gaze flicking to my arms.

Shit…

“I’m fine, Mike.” I say, sharper than intended. “It won’t happen again.”

But will it? It’s become an addiction - something I need to survive. If I don’t hurt, I don’t feel human, I don’t feel real.

“Sorry,” Mike stammers, running a nervous hand through his dark curls. “I just worry about you...”

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

At some point, I must’ve fallen asleep, because when I open my eyes, the room is cloaked in darkness save for a small reading lamp in the corner.

I sit up on the sofa, wondering whether or not to call my mom.

“I already called her and told her you were sleeping,” Mike’s voice cuts through the stillness from the opposite end of the sofa, not looking up from his comic. “She said you can stay here for the night since it’s so late.” He finishes, closing his book - the sound echoing in the quiet room.

I sigh in what could either be relief or dread before relaxing my tensed posture. “Thank you, Mike.”

“It’s not a problem.” Mike answers, resting a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

There it is again.

The butterflies are back, making my chest feel tight.

I’m not allowed to like him. We’re both guys.

I manage a small smile, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. “You’re a good friend.” I say, placing my hand on top of his, squeezing gently.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that he seemed to be… blushing?

No, he likes girls. There I go again, getting my hopes up for nothing.

Swallowing hard, I excuse myself to the bathroom to gather my thoughts.

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

As I gaze into the mirror, I barely recognize the face staring back at me.

A heavy sigh escapes my lips, allowing my carefully curated smile to disappear - leaving a tired-looking teenage boy.

I’m tired of masking…

I notice Mr.Wheeler’s razor, and I stare at it for nearly a minute, transfixed by the promise of relief.

…

Please…

I can’t…

I turn away, opening the bathroom door and returning to my spot on the sofa.

I’m fine…

“Sorry, Mike, I should go..” I murmur reluctantly.

“Oh, okay.. Do you want me to walk you?” Mike asks, a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

“I’ll be alright, thank you though.” I reply, managing a weak smile.

“Okay… Be safe, Will.” Mike says, smiling back.

“I will.”

——————————————————————

Walking home, I think about everything that has happened in the past few weeks.

“Mom! Call an ambulance!”

Jonathan’s frantic words ricocheted around my skull, and I have to force myself to keep walking.

Keep walking…

I quietly twist the cold doorknob, careful to not make any noise.

“Will, are you okay?” Mom asks, concern etched upon her features. It seems she’s been waiting for me to return.

Still… She still stares at me like I’m a sad puppy…

“Yeah, mom, I’m okay,” I reply, hugging her.

This seems to ease her mind, because she finally lets me go to my room.

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

I kick my shoes off at my bedroom doorway, making a soft ‘thud’ as they hit the carpet.

Numbly, I walk over to my bed, sinking down onto the plush mattress.

Why am I like this?

I adjust my position, resting my head on the pillow as I stare blankly at the ceiling.

Jonathan knocks on my bedroom door before opening it. “You alright, Will?” He asks, concern etches across his features.

“I’m fine, Jonathan, thank you,” I respond, a little too enthusiastically.

Sighing heavily, Jonathan steps into my bedroom, coming over to sit on the edge of my bed, his anxiety obvious.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” He asks, placing a gentle hand on mine in a supportive gesture.

I flinch away, and a flicker of hurt flashes across Jonathan’s face.

“Sorry.. I just don’t want to be touched right now…” I apologize, averting my gaze away from him.

“Okay… Sleep well, Will.” He says, stepping outside my bedroom and closing the door behind him.

Then the guilt hits.

Why did I turn him away like that?

Resist it.

I can’t put them through that again.

Resist…

——————————————————————

When I wake up, my thighs sting - a familiar sensation that I can’t seem to escape.

“Shit..” I mutter to myself.

I don’t even remember doing it, but the angry red marks on my thighs serve as undeniable proof of my fresh self-harm.

Letting out a low sigh, I pull on some pants, trying my hardest to ignore the sting.

“Good morning, mom!” I say, walking down the hallway, my cheerful facade already plastered across my face.

“Good morning, Will!” She answers, setting out a plate of food for me. “I missed your smile.” She adds, her tone softening.

“Thank you,” I say, my smile faltering slightly.

Not hungry…

I force myself to take a few bites of the food before calling Mike.

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

“What are you going to do over the break?” I ask through the receiver.

“Not much. I don’t have any plans.” Mike answers, his voice tinny through the landline.

“Do you want to hang out?” I ask, my voice betraying a bit of the hopefulness.

“Sure! You wanna come over today?” He answers - and I swear I can almost detect a shift in his tone, something unspoken.

He doesn’t love you.

“Yeah! I’ll head over!”

——————————————————————

When I arrive at the Wheeler’s house, I’m greeted warmly by Mrs.Wheeler.

“Are you here to see Mike?” She asks.

“Yes ma’am.” I reply, my nerves barely manageable.

“He’s up in his room.” Mrs.Wheeler steps aside to let me through the door.

I walk up the stairs to Mike’s room, my heart pounding in my chest.

He doesn’t love you.

Tentatively, I push open the door to Mike’s bedroom.

There he is.

Sitting effortlessly handsome as ever on his bed, cross legged. He’s reading a comic that I don’t recognize.

When he notices me, he gestures for me to come over.

He looks freshly showered - His hair is damp and tousled. He smells faintly of shampoo.

I walk over to him, settling beside him in the bed - a familiar comfort that feels just like when we were kids.

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

Mike scoots himself over to make more room for me on the bed, the movement effortless - almost instinctual.

I inch closer to him, trying my hardest to maintain my composure. I wouldn't want to come off as 'desperate'.

Then, he does something confusing.

Mike interlaces his fingers with mine, making my breath catch in my throat - hesitation mixed with exhilaration.

"Sorry, does this make you uncomfortable?" He asks, pulling away slightly as if he's worried he's stepped over a line.

"No," I reply, my tone laced with an almost desperate sincerity. "I like it.."

We sit in that suspended moment, our hands linked together, time stretching and contracting around us, the world outside fading into a blur.

And I want so badly to tell him. To tell him how I've flt all these years. To spill my heart out to him.

Then there's the voice. The asshole in the back of my mind, spouting its cynica thoughts.

He doesn't love you.

I'm retreating back into myself agan, shutting down.

Mike seems to sense that something is off, because he releases my hand and positions himself in front of me as if to give a pep talk.

"Will, are you alright? Do you need anything?" He seems to be searching my face for any indication that I'm spiraling again.

But I won't let myself burden him.

"Yeah, sorry, Mike, I zoned out." I say apologetically.

"You scared me, man." He says, his tone indicating that he doesn't fully believe me. To the everlasting credit of Mike Wheeler, he doesn't pry.

Then, he wraps his arms around me.

I can feel the warmth of his body, the rhythmic thump of his heartbeat resonating in my ears like a comforting drum.

'It’s strictly platonic,' I remind myself - but deep down, every fiber of my being aches for it to be something more.

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

I lay in my bed, my thoughts wandering back to earlier with Mike.

I’m getting mixed signals! How can I like the boy my sister is dating?

Well, to be fair, I loved him first.

Groaning in frustration, I turn over to stare at the blank wall until sleep finally envelopes me.

——————————————————————

A shroud of darkness hovers around me, smelling faintly of mildew.

I can’t see.

I can, however, feel it’s violating presence.

My heart drops as my eyes adjust and I realize I’m gazing directly at myself.

Young.

Innocent.

I see myself, strapped to a wall by writhing vines.

The most horrific part, though, is the grotesque tentacle-like thing attaching itself to my mouth.

That’s when it hits me.

I was merely a weak vessel to breed more monsters…

——————————————————————

I jolt awake, drenched in a cold sweat, my fingers clutching the edges of my blanket as if to confirm that I’m no longer dreaming.

The cold fear settles in the pit of my stomach, dominating my senses.

Desperate for relief, I scratch at my skin, seeking some tangible connection to reality.

My nails leave angry, crimson trails along my skin, some of them producing small beads of blood.

I can’t.

Then, the tears begin to cascade freely.

All the pain and anguish from the past few years come back and hit me like a ton of bricks.

Why me?!

I sink to the floor beside my bed, shaking as I begin taking apart a pencil sharpener.

I deserve it.

Gritting my teeth, I glide the sharp metal over my thighs once more, the pain bringing a twisted sense of relief.

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

When I wake up, my thighs are sore, and my bedsheets are bloodstained - a harsh reminder of the reality of my situation.

Shit…

I swiftly change the sheets, hiding the stained ones under my bed.

I put the blade of the pencil sharpener in my top drawer, making sure to hide it well enough to not be suspicious.

I’ll need it again soon…

I make an effort to hide the slight limp in my stride, as I’d hate for my mom or Jonathan to worry about me.

Sitting down at the dining table, I force myself to eat the waffles mom made.

I thank her for the food with a forced smile before I make my way back to Mike’s house.

——————————————————————

The first thing Mike notices is my slight limp.

“Are you okay, Will?” He asks. “You’re limping..” He pauses as realization dawns on him. “Will, you didn’t…”

“I.. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I say, shifting uncomfortably.

“Bullshit.. You hurt yourself again, didn’t you? I can see the way you’re limping.” Mike whispers, tears shimmering in his eyes.

He takes a minute to compose himself, taking a few deep breaths.

“Come on… I know a little bit about first aid..” He takes my hand, leading me to the bathroom.

I sit on the edge of the bathtub, watching as Mike grabs a first aid kit from the cabinet.

“I need to see the damage first.” He says, his tone softer than before.

Hesitantly, I remove my pants, feeling exposed as I stand there in my underwear.

I can hear Mike suck in a breath and try not to physically recoil.

I’m disgusting…

“This might sting a little…” He says, pulling out an alcohol wipe to clean the cuts with. “If you don’t clean them, they can get infected.” He adds, dabbing at my wounds.

I let out a sharp hiss, the alcohol stinging my cuts.

“Shh… I know. But you need to get it cleaned,” Mike looks up at me, a sympathetic smile plastered across his face.

I almost fall back into the tub.

He’s incredibly sweet…

“Alright, the hard part’s over. Now we just need to bandage them…” Mike says, wrapping gauze around each of my thighs.

When he’s finished, he stands up and offers me a hand.

“Are you… mad..?” I ask, taking his hand and hoisting myself up.

“No,” He says, his voice gentle. “No, Will, why would I be mad at you for hurting? I may not understand why you’re hurting yourself like this, but I damn sure won’t be angry with you for struggling.”

Wrapping his arms around me in a tight embrace, he whispers, “I care about you, Will. More than you’d understand.”

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

I stand there, my thoughts racing a million miles a minute.

What did he say..?

Shaking my head slightly to clear my thoughts, I walk stiffly over to where Mike slouches comfortably on the sofa.

He doesn’t mean it like that. He’s dating El.

“I forgot to tell you. Me and El broke up yesterday.”

Or not.

The way he says it - his tone suggesting indifference, or maybe even a hint of.. relief?

“Oh.”

Oh?

Is that all I can say?

“She wants to be alone. She said she’s not ready for a relationship. I understand, it wasn’t really working out anyways.” He shrugs, a gesture that seems almost dismissive.

Does this mean I have a chance..?

No.

He likes girls.

I’m an anomaly, an outlier. He’s everything I can never be - normal.

I remain there for a moment, fidgeting silently, the air full of unspoken words.

“Are you okay?” Mike asks, a hint of concern evident as he bites the inside of his cheek.

“I’m alright. Thank you for the.. help.” I reply, gesturing to my pants - my bandaged thighs making a rough sensation under the fabric.

“You’re welcome,” He answers, his tone soft. “I don’t like to see you hurting.. You’ll come to me if you feel like it’s getting to be too much to handle, right?” His voice is hopeful, as if he…

He doesn’t actually care, he just pities you.

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

“Yeah. I’ll tell you.” I reply, though part of me doesn’t think I can keep that promise.

Mike rests his head on my shoulder, sighing softly. “Good.”

I tense up slightly, the movement nearly invisible.

If he knew what he does to me…

“Are you comfortable?” I laugh, trying to hide my nerves.

“Yep,” Mike smiles, looking up at me with those wide puppy-dog eyes.

He’s adorable…

——————————————————————

“Do you want anything to eat, Will?” Mike asks, putting a hot pocket into the microwave.

‘anything to eat’…

“No. I’m not hungry.” I reply, biting the inside of my cheek, the metallic taste a bitter reminder of my own denial.

“I’ve heard your stomach growling.” He says, his tone betraying a hint of underlying pain. “You promised you’d tell me the truth…”

There’s a weight to his words that presses down on my chest, and for a fleeting moment, the room feels both too small and too vast, filled with all the things left unsaid…

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

I tense up, looking anywhere but his face. I can almost sense the hurt radiating off of Mike, the tension in the air palpable.

“I’m sorry..” I manage weakly.

“No, no, don’t you ‘sorry’ me,” he responds, his words punctuated by a wavering tone that betrays the tears he’s fighting to hold back. “You promised you’d tell me…”

Then, he reaches for my hand, his grip firm yet desperate, propelling me towards the table. He shoves a ham-and-cheese hot pocket towards me, its golden-brown exterior glinting under the overhead light.

“Eat the goddamn hot pocket,” Mike insists, his voice softening like the gentle hum of the microwave as he pops in another hot pocket.

I find myself staring at the food as if it were a lifeline, an internal battle ensuing:

I’m hungry.

No you’re not.

I am…

Nobody will like you.

——————————————————————

I tersely pick up the hot pocket, the rough, warm bread sending a welcome shiver through my body.

Inhaling slowly, I sink my teeth into the hot pocket, the gooey filling bursting with flavor, a wave of comfort washing over me.

How did he know that this kind was my favorite?

It’s probably the only kind he has.

“Thank you, Mike,” I say, wiping the edges of my mouth with the back of my hand.

For a moment, it feels like the world has narrowed down to just the two of us, and I could’ve sworn he was gazing at me with an intensity that suggested something more — a glimmer of longing hidden beneath the surface.

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

When I wake up, Mike’s arm is wrapped around my torso.

Slowly, I look up at him. He’s awake. Deadass awake, reading a comic.

Mike seems to sense that I’ve woken up from my nap, and he turns his head to face me, his dark curls falling over his forehead.

He’s adorable..

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, his voice laced with warmth and an inviting tone that wraps around me like a cozy blanket.

Is he aware that his arm is wrapped around me?

He must be, because his grip on my torso tightens slightly, damn near possessively. Just barely enough that it could be accidental.

With a soft hum escaping his lips, he resumes his reading, the words of the comic mingling with the tranquility of the early evening.

Holy shit.

“What’re you reading?” I ask, looking over his shoulder.

So close. So damn close.

“Spider-Man.” Mike replies, turning to face me again, our faces mere inches from each other, a tangible connection hanging in the air.

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

Mike has never shown much interest in Spider-Man.

But he’s always been my favorite.

“Since when did you start liking Spider-Man?” I tease playfully, propping my chin on his shoulder.

“Eh, I’ve just decided to pick it up. I know someone who's really into it,” he replies, a warm smile lighting up his face.

As I gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear, I can’t help but notice his slightly rumpled look — his clothes hinting that sleep might not have been his first priority lately.

“You know, I’ve been thinking…” Mike begins, casting his gaze downward in a shy manner. “I think I might... like boys?” There seems to be a question mark at the end of his sentence, causing his voice to rise an octave - making it sound uncertain.

My heart skips a beat, a spark of hope igniting within me.

I might have a chance..?

“Maybe? I don’t really know. It feels all confusing,” he admits, shaking his head lightly as if trying to dispel the jumbled thoughts swirling inside. “I just thought it was important to tell you, since… you know…”

I’m gay.

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

“Sorry if this is too much...” Mike stammers, his voice laced with a hint of embarrassment as he glances away, clearly flustered.

“It’s not. It could never be.” I reply instinctively, my thoughts barely grasping the deeper implications of my words.

As I glance at my watch, a wave of panic washes over me - I should have been home half an hour ago.

“Shit.. Mike, I have to go..” I murmur, hurriedly gathering my things, fingers fumbling with the straps of my bag.

“I understand. Be safe!” His hand rests on mine for a moment longer than necessary, sending a rush of butterflies dancing in my stomach.

——————————————————————

I spend the night thinking. Thinking about what Mike said - thinking about what we could be.

Don’t get too hopeful.

My expression tightens, and I can’t help but let my gaze drift to the drawer across the room.

The sharpener.

I promised.

I shouldn’t.

No, I can’t.

But I’m already gliding the sharp metal over my forearms, beads of crimson blood welling up and dripping onto the carpet.

The tears are running, too. I get too hopeful. I should never think I’ll stand a chance with Mike.

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

“Will…” Jonathan’s eyes reflect a deep well of pain and helplessness, his heart aching because he feels powerless to aid his brother.

“I’m fine, Jonathan, shit happens.” I reply, avoiding his penetrating gaze, which is heavy with concern.

He lets out a weary sigh, running a frustrated hand through his tousled hair, the lines on his forehead revealing the anxiety that churns within him.

“We can’t let mom find out… She’ll probably send you away,” he finally says, crouching down beside my bed, his presence both comforting and heavy with unspoken fears. “How do you feel about staying at the Wheeler’s for a few days? I can call them to check if it’s alright, but we just can’t keep you here…” His voice trembles slightly, betraying the dread he’s been carrying over the past week.

I remain quiet, afraid that if I start to speak again, I will break down and cry.

“Okay… We’ll do that,” he reassures me gently, helping me pack a bag with a mix of concern and determination.

——————————————————————

Even though the pain and fear linger in Mike’s eyes, he doesn’t dig for answers. He doesn’t question the fresh cuts adorning my arms or the way my eyes appear sunken as if I’ve been trapped in a sleepless void. I appreciate his unspoken understanding.

“Want to read with me?” he offers, shifting to make room for me on the sofa, a warm invitation in his tone. “I’m still on the Spider-Man comics.” His attempts at small talk bring a sense of normalcy, and soon we’re animatedly discussing art inspired by Spidey.

“And the shading here…” I concentrate on the lines of the red suit. “…suggests dimming sunlight.” I finish, holding out the drawing to him.

“This is fantastic, Will! I can’t believe how talented you’ve become!” Mike exclaims, his face lighting up with genuine admiration.

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

“Why do you do this to yourself..?” Mike asks, running his thumb carefully along each of my scars, as if trying to understand the story behind each mark.

“I do it to feel something in the moment.. I do it to match the exterior with the interior pain..” I try to explain, averting my gaze. “I know I promised, but I can’t… It’s an addiction, Mike…”

“I know, I know..” Mike soothes, pulling me into a tight embrace. “You’ve gone through so much - I can’t imagine how hurt you’re feeling.” He pulls back slightly, searching my face intently for something unknown to me.

“You’re beautiful…” I murmur, my voice scarcely a whisper, wishing those words had stayed locked away in my mind.

Shit, that was meant to be an inside thought.

“Do you really think so…?” Mike asks, a soft smile breaking over his face, his eyes sparking with a newfound light.

He leans in and presses his lips to mine, a slow, hesitant movement, as if it’s been forbidden.

As the moments stretch and swirl, blending together in an almost dreamlike haze, he finally withdraws, his hand lingering gently along the curve of my neck, offering an intimate warmth that feels both electric and soothing.

“Sorry, that was..-“

“No, I liked it…” I admit, my mind and heart racing.

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

We sit across from each other, the silence stretching between us like an unbroken thread, both of us clearly caught in a whirlwind of emotions.

Mike’s complexion has turned pallid, and he looks as if he might crumble under the weight of the moment.

Meanwhile, I can’t help but wear a beaming grin, a surge of joy bubbling up inside me that I can’t contain or conceal.

“So…” Mike begins, his voice trailing off into uncertainty, hanging in the air like a fragile whisper.

“I really like you.” I blurt, feeling as if I’ve nothing left to lose.

“I know…” Mike replies, a shy smile creeping onto his lips that hints at something deeper, something we both have been dancing around.

He knows?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I ask, tilting my head with genuine curiosity, feeling like an eager puppy trying to comprehend something far more complex than I can grasp.

As I sink back into the plush embrace of the sofa, I finally notice the tension coiling through my muscles, how tightly I’ve been wound up in this moment.

“Because I was scared. I’m scared of myself, Will. This isn’t normal,” Mike confesses, his fingers running nervously through his tousled hair as he stands and begins to pace like a caged animal, the turmoil evident in every step. “Do you know what my dad would do if he found out I’m into you?” He trails off, his thoughts drifting into a somber place.

“It’s okay,” I say softly, rising to my feet and stepping in behind him. With newfound courage, I gather him into my embrace, wrapping my arms around his torso in a small attempt to provide comfort. “I’ll be there for you every step of the way,” I promise, hoping my words can anchor the storm of anxiety swirling within him.

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

A couple days later, I’m fully settled at the Wheeler’s house.

I wake up at around 3 in the morning, feeling around for Mike’s warmth. The bed is cold on his side - he must’ve gotten up.

With a gentle click, I turn on the lamp beside the bed. The soft glow casts an inviting light around the room, creating a cocoon of warmth that feels like a protective blanket against the chill of the early morning.

I wander down the stairs, the wooden steps creaking under my weight, guiding me toward the kitchen where I hope to find him.

As I step inside, the sight that greets me is enchanting. The table is a canvas of freshly made dough, scattered with an array of cookie cutters in vibrant shapes and baking sheets waiting to be adorned.

“Oh, sorry, Will,” Mike’s voice breaks the hush of the room, a hint of sheepishness coloring his tone. “I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I decided to make some cookies. Do you want to help?”

A smile spreads across my face as I approach him, taking in his figure dusted with flour — his hands, arms, and even parts of his face tell are also covered in the stuff.

He’s handsome.

“I’d love to!” I reply, picking up a rolling pin and starting to roll the dough thin.

——————————————————————

Minutes pass joyfully, but suddenly an odd sensation prickles my back. I glance over my shoulder to find Mike, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, launching a playful handful of flour in my direction.

“Oh, really?” I tease, a playful smirk dancing on my lips. “That’s what we’re doing now?” With a quick flick of my wrist, I retaliate, sending flour flying back at him, giggling like a little kid.

——————————————————————

“These cookies are good, Mike, what’s in them?” I ask, leaning my head on his shoulder, the air thick with flour clouds from our ‘fight’.

“It’s a secret~!” Mike replies, his grin widening as he attempts to clean up the chaotic sprinkle of flour around us.

I love him.

Chapter Text

When I awaken, I find myself nestled in Mike's bed, cocooned in the warmth of blankets and the familiarity of his presence.

His face is turned toward me, asleep, his arms securely wrapped around my torso — a protective embrace that speaks volumes.

Fuck, he's adorable..

I curl back against him, basking in the comfort of his warmth, reminiscent of the cookies we indulged in last night.

Then it hits me.

like a dark cloud rolling in, a wave of sadness crashes over me. A suffocating urge to inflict pain on myself rises from deep within.

Slowly, I peel myself away from the sanctuary of the covers, my bare feet making muted thuds on the floor as I slip toward the bathroom.

In the dim light, I reach for Mr. Wheeler's razor, the cold metal gleaming in my hand as I hold it poised above my wrist, hesitation flooding my thoughts.

I shouldn't. 

But it'll feel so good...

I press the blade lightly against my skin, the chill sending a shiver through me.

In that instant, the bathroom door swings open sharply.

“Will, what the hell...?” Mike stands in the doorway, still caught in the haze of sleep, eyes wide and filled with concern. His voice is a mix of alarm and disappointment—like a gut punch. “You promised…”

"I didn't want to wake you, Mike!" I explain, tears threatening to spill over.

“That doesn’t fucking matter! I love you, Will, and I’m always here for you! You can't keep doing this to yourself!”

Time seems to freeze as the blade slips from my fingers, clattering against the marble sink.

“I’m sorry…” is all I can muster, the weight of those words hanging heavily between us.

“Will, ‘sorry’ isn’t enough anymore, baby…” Mike’s voice softens, yet carries a poignant urgency as he gently lifts my chin, compelling me to meet his gaze. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you, but you need to try, okay…?”

Chapter Text

"Okay..." I reply, locking my gaze with his, feeling the weight of our unspoken words hanging in the air.

Fortunately, the wound isn't too severe; the blade merely grazed my skin, and the bleeding is minimal. Yet, we still take the time to clean it thoroughly, knowing the importance of preventing any chance of infection. 

"I've... I've been in your situation before. I didn't have anyone to help me, and it almost got so bad that I..." Mike says, his voice a fragile whisper that trails off into silence, laden with memory. 

As he lifts the hem of his shorts, I'm met with the stark sight of silvery scars etched across his skin — a testament to the struggles he's endured, each line a story of turmoil and survival.

"Look," He says softly, his eyes filled with warmth, "I want to help you, Will, but you have to be willing to accept it first." He leans in and places a gentle kiss on my cheek, a gesture both tender and reassuring.

"Okay, Mike... I... I do want your help, but I don’t know how to accept it..." I confess, my voice trembling as I choke back sobs, the weight of my emotions feeling almost unbearable.

"Shh, it’s okay, Will. I understand," Mike murmurs, his arms wrapping around me in a protective embrace that soothes my frayed nerves. "You never have to feel afraid to reach out for help. I’ll always be here for you." he adds, pulling back slightly to wipe away the tears that have escaped down my cheeks.

"I love you..." I say barely above a whisper.

"I love you too, Will," Mike replies, his voice steady and filled with a warmth that envelops me, anchoring me in the moment.

Chapter Text

We head back to bed, and it's nearly five in the morning - it's not worth trying to go back to sleep at this point.

I settle beside Mike, who instantly encircles me in his warm embrace, a gesture that brings me both stability and solace in the early hour.

At one point, he carefully takes hold of my arm, his fingers exploring the landscape of my scars with a tender reverence. 

I let him - because I trust him.

"Each mark tells a story, love." He says softly, his gaze searching my features with earnest intent. "Each mark shows that you've overcome obstacles. Each mark shows that you're still here, and that your pain is valid."

With a gentle kiss placed upon my wrist, he draws me even closer into his warmth.

"I'm so proud of you, my love. I'm so very proud of you for reaching out for help during this dark time." His smile radiates affection as he presses his forehead to mine, bridging the gap between our hearts.

In that moment, I find myself smiling back — his sincerity touches me profoundly. 

Maybe I genuinely can get better.

Maybe I am worth something to him.

Maybe...

Chapter Text

Valentine’s Day special!! Not related to the storyline - Adult BYLER AU !!

I run my hands through my ruffled hair, the light of dawn filtering in through the curtained window.

Today is Valentine’s Day.

Carefully, I slip out of bed, careful not to wake Mike. I want to make him breakfast - a special treat for the special day.

——————————————————————

“It smells lovely, dear!” I hear Mike say from behind me before he wraps his arms around my torso.

“I’m glad - I’m making pancakes.” I smile, gesturing towards the deformed heart-shaped pancakes.

“I’ve got a surprise for you.” He chimes, grinning mischievously as he takes a plate.

——————————————————————

After breakfast, Mike tells me to get dressed. In just a few minutes, we find ourselves at a park, setting up an area under a willow tree.

“This is beautiful, Mike,” I say, kissing him on the cheek.

“You missed~” He responds, pulling my chin to meet his gaze as he kisses me deeply - making my breath hitch even after all these years together.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Will.” Mike says when we pull apart.

Chapter Text

I'm startled awake by a loud noise from downstairs. Vaguely, I wonder what's going on.

Climbing out of Mike's bed, I swiftly pull on one of his shirts - designed with yellow and blue stripes - before rushing downstairs.

"Mike?" I call out, my brows furrowed in concern. I pause at the base of the stairs, hearing a booming voice from the living room - Mr.Wheeler.

Another loud noise. One that I recognize all to well.

"You faggot!" Mr. Wheeler yells, his voice sending shockwaves of fear through my body. "Young boys do NOT sleep with one another! You cannot just bring this fairy into my household and expect me to be okay with it!" 

"He's struggling. He tried to kill himself, dad!" Mike says through clenched teeth. "I'm sorry that I'm the only person in this fucking house that understands what that's like!"

SLAP!

"How DARE you talk to me like that!" Mr.Wheeler roars, making me back slowly into the wall as to not be seen. 

It'll be okay, Will...

"You're a fucking disgrace." Mr.Wheeler says finally, turning to leave. He slams the door behind him, the force making the floor rattle. 

Peeking around the corner, I see Mike slowly rise to his feet and go to the freezer, grabbing a bag of frozen peas and putting it on his swollen cheek.

Then, he begins to cry. His sobs fill the air, making my heart ache.

Chapter Text

"Mike?" I call out, slowly walking towards him.

"Fuck, Will- I'm sorry-" Mike stammers, frantically wiping his tears away and attempting to cover up the angry red mark on his face. 

"Did he hit you..?" I ask, though I already know the answer. My blood is boiling. I am livid. How can Mr.Wheeler do something like that to someone as sweet as Mike?

"Yeah, but I'll be okay, Will." He smiles weakly, the fear and hopelessness in his eyes betraying his inner turmoil. 

"Lonnie used to hit me all the time.." I say, remembering how Jonathan would step in any time Lonnie would get physical - resulting in us both being hurt. 

"I know.. He pisses me off.." Mike replies, putting the frozen peas back into the freezer and walking over to stand by me. "I can't believe he would hurt you..."

"I could say the same thing, Mike." I laugh softly, gingerly brushing my thumb against his swollen cheek. "We could run away together, you know." I suggest, though I know we'd never follow through. "Live out our lives away from Hawkins."

"Baby, you and I both know that's impossible.." He answers, but his voice betrays a hint of hope.

"It was just a suggestion." I shrug, grinning. "We should probably get our stuff ready - we have school again tomorrow."

"Yeah."

I turn to walk back up the stairs, but Mike grabs my hand.

"Will?" He looks so vulnerable and shy standing like that.

"Yeah?"

"I love you." He kisses me, and we walk up the stairs together.

Chapter Text

A couple days after the incident with Mr.Wheeler, I'm sitting on the sofa downstairs, reading Spider Man. I've stayed home today, as I'm too anxious to go to school - so anxious, in fact, that I threw up.

Mr.Wheeler sits down beside me on the sofa. I tense up, remembering what he did to Mike the other day.

"So. Michael told me you tried to kill yourself." He says, not looking at me.

Uncomfortable, I try to shift away from him. "Yes, sir."

Suddenly, Mr.Wheeler's hand comes to rest on my thigh, making my heart rate increase. "Sir, your hand-" I try to say, but he quickly covers my mouth with his other hand.

"Stay quiet, and you can stay here with my faggot son..."

--------------------------------------------------

"Hey, Will! What did you get up to today?" Mike asks, coming in through the bedroom door and sitting down on the bed next to me.

I dig my nails into the flesh of my arm, unable to bring myself to talk. 

I feel disgusting.

"Will? Are you okay, baby?" Mike plants his hand on my thigh and I flinch, tears stinging in my eyes.

I can't tell him. He won't believe me.

I look up at Mike, and he looks visibly hurt - probably because I flinched away from him.

"I'm sorry, Mike-" I start, but my voice trails off. 

"I'm sorry..."

Chapter Text

“Baby, talk to me..” Mike pleads, holding his hand out to mine.

”You won’t believe me…” I sob, feeling filthy after what just happened.

A dark cloud seems to settle upon Mike. “What did he do to you?” It wasn’t a question - but a demand.

”What..?” How does he know..?

”Did he fucking touch you?” Mike asks, his features oddly calm for the tone he’s taking. I can practically feel the rage radiating off of his body.

”Mr.Wheeler..?” I ask, dumbfounded.

”Baby, I need you to be completely honest with me. What happened?” 

I slowly describe what Mr.Wheeler had done to me mere hours before, Mike seeming to hold on to every word.

“I’ll take care of it, Will. I’m so sorry he did that to you.” His voice seems devoid of any emotion, which I find quite scary. 

“How did you-“ I start, but he’s already gone.

A few moments later, the screaming starts.

Chapter Text

“Fuck you!” I hear Mike yell, Mr.Wheeler’s strangled pleas for help quickly silenced by another blow.

”Mike!” I exclaim, my voice shaking. “You’re going to kill him!” But there’s a twisted part of me that’s grateful. So very grateful that my boyfriend is willing to hurt his own father for me…

”Don’t you ever!” Mike gets off of his father, kicking his mangled body. “If you ever fucking touch him again, I swear to god, I’ll kill you.” He whispers, wiping blood off his hand onto Mr.Wheeler’s shirt.

”Shit… What did you do..? You’re going to get arrested!” I whimper, shaking from head to toe as I look back at the man who assaulted me. 

He has a busted lip and there are already bruises forming on his body, which has been cut in several places. 

“I’ll be fine. He’ll never hurt you again, baby.” Mike whispers, touching his forehead to mine.

I can’t help the giddiness coursing through my veins.

I’ll help him. Mr.Wheeler won’t tell a soul. If he tells anyone and Mike gets arrested, I’ll kill him myself.

Chapter Text

“Ugh, my head…” Mr.Wheeler groans, trying to stand up. At least, until he realizes he’s been tied to a chair.

“Good morning, sleepy-head!” I say, my voice sounding maniacal even to my own ears. 

“What the fuck?” Mr.Wheeler gasps, and I can see the panic setting in on his face.

”Yes, ‘What the fuck’ indeed.” Mike steps into the room, closing the door with a gentle click.

“This is stupid. Let me go.” He says gruffly, but his eyes betray the fear and anxiety he’s feeling.

”You didn’t let me go when I asked you to.” I snarl, digging my nails into the flesh on my arms.

”Will, baby. It’s okay. You don’t have to do this.” Mike says, his tone soft. 

“I’ll be fine.” I say, my voice devoid of any emotion.

”Hell no, I did NOT raise a fairy.” Mr.Wheeler snaps, his anxiety replaced by fury as he struggles to get out of the chair. I can see Mike flinch beside me, and something inside me snaps.

”Yeah?” I say, grinning maliciously. “I’d think you were a ‘fairy’ with the way you had your hands on me the other night.” 

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He grunts, attempting to be indifferent.

“Sure, you don’t.” I say numbly, my body seeming to move on its own as I grab a pocket knife off the bedside table.

”What are you-“ 

But I’ve slashed his throat.

——————————————————————

I wake up in a cold sweat. It never happened. Mike doesn’t know. I didn’t kill him.

Trembling, I begin to sob quietly.

When will it be over..?

——————————————————————

“Will?” Mike asks, concerned. “Are you okay, baby?” 

“I’m… I’m sorry…” I reply, but I’m not sure what for.

”For what?” He asks, his brows furrowed.

”I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner..”

”Tell me what?”

”Your father… He…” But I’m crying again.

”What did he do, Will?” Mike asks, his voice soft despite the concern in his tone.

I explain in detail what Mr.Wheeler did to me. Mike doesn’t call me a liar. He doesn’t yell at me. He just wraps his arms around me and weeps.

”I’m sorry, Will… I thought he had gotten better, I didn’t think he would do that to you…” Mike grimaces, wiping angrily at his eyes, as if ashamed for crying.

”What do you mean..?” I ask, but deep down, I already know.

”When I was younger, he had… Done the same to me. Shamed me for it. He said I’d never see you again if I didn’t comply…” 

Chapter Text

"Mike..-" I choke out, tears streaming down my face. 

"I'm so sorry he did that to you, Will, if I would've known-" 

"It's okay, Mike..! It... It wasn't that serious..." I reply, scratching at the skin on my arms.

"Baby, yes it was-" Mike tries to say, but I cut him off. 

"No. I... I need to use the bathroom." I say, getting up, my movements nearly robotic.

"Will, no. I know you. I know you're going to try to hurt yourself. Please..." Mike pleads, tears shimmering in his eyes.

"I..." I bite my lip to keep from crying.

I'll admit, I did it to feel the pain as well.

"Please, Will. We'll get through this together..." Mike practically begs, digging his nails into the palm of his hand.

"I need to go."

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

I stare at my reflection in the sink. The places where he touched me practically glow through my shirt - as if I can still see his hands on my body.

I grab the razor off the counter.

Chapter Text

The blade glides through the flesh on my arm, the stinging sensation making me smile.

There’s just something about the self-mutilation that gives me a twisted sense of security.

—————————

“Will…” Mike doesn’t look at me. It’s almost as if he knows what he’ll see. 

“Did you..?” But he already knows.

”Yeah…” I say, my voice monotone.

”Shit…” Is all Mike can say.

—————————

“Better?” Mike asks, finishing up with the bandaging.

”Yeah… Thank you, Mike…” I mutter, not looking him in the face.

”Hey. It’s okay. Relapses happen. You tried, and that’s all that matters.” He smiles at me, but I can see the concern etched on his face.

Chapter Text

“Are you okay?” Mike asks, pulling the blanket over the both of us, a warm comfort that I didn’t know I needed.

”Yeah, I’m alright now.” I reply, smiling as I wrap my arms around his waist. 

He smells faintly of deodorant and hair mousse.

This is lovely.

Just the two of us sitting here like this.

”Hey, Will?” Mike asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

”Yeah?”

”Can I try something..?” He asks mischievously, putting his hands under my shirt and tracing the curves of my spine, making me shudder with a desire I didn’t know I had.

”What is it?” I ask, a soft blush creeping up on my face.

”Have you ever gotten a hickey?” He asks, raising his eyebrows.

Chapter Text

My face goes warm at Mike's question.

"No, I- I haven't." I say, shaking my head slowly.

"Would you like one?" He asks, his face so close to my neck that I can feel the warmth of his breath.

I nod profusely, covering my face with my hands.

"If you say stop, I stop. Okay?" Mike says, pulling my hands away from my face, forcing me to look at him. 

Holy shit, he's gorgeous. I watch as he moves his face to the crevasse of my neck. I shudder slightly as he breathes in my scent, nuzzling himself closer to me.

Mike plants a gentle kiss to my collarbone, making me lean into his touch. He licks a long stripe up my neck, and I whine softly, eager for his affection.

"You like that, huh?" Mike asks before nibbling gently at the spot he kissed, worrying the skin between his teeth. This makes me squirm, my thoughts racing a million miles an hour. 

Is this really happening?! Ohmygod-

He sucks gently on the spot he had nibbled, seemingly encouraged by my soft noises.

"M-Mike..." I whimper, pressing his head close to me.

"Yeah?"

"I love you." I smile, though he probably can't see it.

Chapter Text

"What could you possibly need my concealer fo- Michael. What did you do?" Nancy asks, trying hard not to smile.

"Follow me." Mike grabs mine and Nancy's arms and practically drags us to his bedroom.

"Mike, what-" Nancy stops, noticing the dark bruise on my neck. "MICHAEL!" She bursts out laughing, doubling over.

"It's not funny!" Me and Mike shout in unison, the both of us turning a shade of red.

"Why would you do that? If you don't want anyone to see, then give your hickeys below the shirtline." Nancy stands back up, grinning. "Here. You might have to mix it with something else, it's not quite your shade." She hands me the bottle of concealer.

I look at Mike. We burst out laughing.

Chapter Text

I stare into the hanging mirror, gently tapping the concealer onto the spot on my neck, carefully blending it so it looks like my skin.

Almost.

”You almost done, baby?” Mike calls from the bed, watching me from where he sits.

”Mhm!” I feel my face heating up. I love it when he calls me those silly pet names.

——————

I lay next to Mike, practically stealing his warmth. “I love you.” I say, smiling at him.

”I love you too, Will.” He pulls me into a slow, passionate kiss. His lips are incredibly soft as he kisses me.

”Ah-!” I cover my face with my hands when we pull apart, embarrassed.

”It’s okay.” Mike pulls my hands away from my face, forcing me to look at him. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. I’m right here.”

Chapter Text

I wake up to the sound of the bedroom door creaking open.

A shadowy figure creeps towards the bed where I lay next to Mike.

”Be quiet, and it’ll be over quicker.” 

———

Mike wakes up from the way the bed is moving, and he blinks a few times as the shadow of Mr.Wheeler stills, caught.

”What the fuck?!” Mike yells, practically jumping over me to get to his father.

”Mike-“

”What the fuck did you just do to him?!” He grabs a nearby baseball bat and starts whacking Mr.Wheeler.

———

When Mr.Wheeler is naughty but a gory mess on the ground, Mike finally drops the baseball bat. “We need to get you to your house.”

Chapter Text

"Mom..." I sob, running into my mother's outstretched arms, seeking comfort that I so desperately need in this moment. 

Mike stands off to the side awkwardly, drumming his fingers against his sides. 

"What happened, Mike?" My mother asks as I sob into her shirt as if I'm a child again. 

- - - - - - - - -

After Mike explains the story, my mother's face goes pale. "Thank you..." She says, squeezing his hand gently in an attempt to show her appreciation. "I'll get Hopper to take care of it."

- - - - - - - - -

I lead Mike to my room to sleep, making room for him in my bed. "Thank you, Mike..." I say, intertwining his fingers with mine.

"It's no problem, my love." He replies, kissing my forehead as I drift off to sleep.