#depressed mike wheeler

[wayward-sherlock]

hi guys so i wrote this last night while listening to sad byler songs and feeling...feelings. so. um. enjoy.

tw for uh. its literally about a suicide letter so pls be careful. <3

“Mike,” Will said, voice breaking. “You can’t go. I-I just got you back.”

Mike shook his head. “You never lost me,” he said quietly, looking down at where he was holding Will’s hands in his. He pulled away, suddenly, and Will’s hands were left cold. “Wait, I uh…I actually have something for you.”

Will let his hands drop to his sides, squeezing them into fists. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Mike replied blankly, reaching up to his shirt pocket. He unbuttoned it and pulled out a piece of paper, to the sight of which he winced. “It’s um…it’s not much, and it got a little crushed, but i-it’s for you. I was trying to find a good time to give it to you, but no time like the present, right?” 

Mike’s positive tone did nothing to mask the pain on his face, in his eyes. Will looked up at him, concern etched into his features. “Mike, I-“

“No,” Mike said firmly, bringing a hand up to Will’s mouth. “Nope, no. None of that. I’m only giving this to you because…well, you’ll see when you read it.”

Will nodded, taking the paper from Mike’s hand. His other hand was still covering Will’s mouth, and Mike looked at it, eyebrows dancing on his forehead like he couldn’t quite figure out how to feel. 

Mike looked up at Will’s eyes, gulped, then looked back at his hand over Will’s mouth. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the back of his own hand, but it sent jolts of electricity through Will’s body regardless, just being in such close proximity. To finally feel Mike’s hair brush against his forehead, to watch as his eyes closed before Will, even though doing so pushed a tear out of the corner of his eyes and down his face.

Mike pulled his hand away carefully. “Um,” he said, and Will blinked at him. “That’s…I better get going, now.”

Will opened his mouth to protest, to beg Mike to stay, to say something, but nothing came out. 

Will watched in silence as Mike walked out the door with only a small, meaningful glance back. 

Will walked towards the wall to lean against it, only to slide down it when his back finally came into contact with the old wallpaper. 

He looked down at his hands, at the paper there. He unfolded it, smoothed out the crinkles and began to read. 

Dear Will…

It’s Hawkins, it hasn’t been the same without you…

I miss you…

I’ve been thinking a lot. Sometimes I wish I just couldn’t think anymore…

If you get this, I’m…

But please, if anyone will understand, it’ll be you. A person can lose the love of their life only so many times before they realize that they won’t ever come back…

I’ve lost you, Will. And in doing so, I lost myself. And I hate the person that I am, that I’ve become. I hate the person that I’ll be in five years, in ten years. 

I hate the person I am without you. 

And that day, when I found El in the woods? That was the worst day of my life. I had lost my best friend. And I’ve lost you again…

You are not the reason for this. It’s me. I can’t handle living a life where I move my little nuclear family to the end of the block. I can’t do it. 

I wish we could’ve…fixed it, somehow. But I know we can’t. I ruined our relationship too thoroughly to even know where to start. 

I’m so sorry, Will. You don’t deserve any of this. 

Love, Mike

A tear dropped off of Will’s face and onto the paper—the letter.

And Will knew—deep in his heart, in his soul—that Mike had gone on that mission into the Upside Down with a purpose. 

To never come back.

[zooperspy]

I like to think I’m funny…

[w3bheadz]

okay i swear one day i'll be done but mikes trauma is so overlooked, no one else in the young teens party dealt with what happened in hawkins lab besides will (and he was passed tf out), no one else in that party was in the shed with will when he went crazy, no one else had to hold will up so hopper could run in and save joyce from getting eaten by demodogs, literally stop hating oh my god people

[hawkinsunderground]

I have no energy lately so I colored a sketch I did a while back 💚

[flowercrowngods]

based on this concept of steve and mike coming out to each other

🤍 also on ao3

The sun is setting in beautiful hues of pink and purple, tinging the town of Hawkins, Indiana, in a light of serenity and beauty it doesn’t really deserve. Steve’s hands are gripped tight around the steering wheel as he carefully scans the road and the houses he passes.

He almost misses the bike where it’s lying on the curb, carelessly discarded by the looks of it, and a tinge of worry shadows his frown. Worry that doesn’t quite dissipate when he spots the figure sitting on the roof, almost black against the lilac colour of the sky, but he breathes a sigh of relief. He considers grabbing the radio to let the others know he found Mike, but decides against it. Something tells him that maybe they’ll take a while. Something tells him there’s more to Will’s stunned silence and Mike’s sudden departure from where they were all hanging out at Steve’s after another successful Hellfire session. 

With a sigh, Steve cuts the engine and gets out of the car, keeping his eyes on Mike the whole time — ready for him to take off again, ready to go sit a while and wait for him to come back. But Mike doesn’t move, even after he shuts the door and approaches the Wheelers’ house. He doesn’t acknowledge Steve when he pulls himself up to the roof, easier this time than the first time he did this. 

There’s a snide comment in the air between them, a version of Mike that would have lashed out at him, made fun of and insulted him. But this one just sits there, hands in his lap, frown on his face, and stares ahead. 

“What do you want,” he asks eventually, though it doesn’t have the kind of heat that Steve expects. He barely even sounds like a teenager. Just sort of… dejected. Steve aches for him; just a little bit. 

“Just making sure you’re alright,” Steve says, shrugging, looking ahead as well so Mike doesn’t feel watched. Or seen, maybe. 

Because the thing is, Steve does see him. He sees the way he looks at Will sometimes, and the way his eyes fill with something that can only be described as yearning, or aching, followed by regret and fear. Which always, always turn into anger. Into frustration. Into snide comments and rolled eyes and walls that keep getting an inch added to them each day. It’s never directed at Will, that anger, and rarely at the rest of the Party, but Steve still sees it. Gets the worst of it and takes it, because he knows something about how that feels. 

He knows something about looking at someone like that, about feeling that fear, that regret, that worry that come with it. He knows something about never really daring to meet someone’s eyes for fear of what they would see. 

“I’m alright,” Mike says, sounding anything but. There’s a bitterness in his voice. Frustration in the way his thumb is picking at the skin of his fingers. Confusion in the tension of his shoulders, and Steve feels like he only needs to make one wrong move, say one wrong word, make a single sound that’s off key to the melody of this moment, and Mike will jump off the roof and take off again with his bike. 

So all he says, after a moment’s consideration, is, “Cool.” Like he believes him. Giving Mike room to breathe, room to pretend. He knows something about that, too. 

He knows and he sees and he feels. 

And suddenly he wants to say something he’s never said before, something he didn’t even get to tell Robin because she knew and saw and felt, too, taking something from him that he hasn’t yet been ready to reclaim for himself. 

And maybe it’s because he sees something of himself in the way Mike holds himself, in the way he snaps at anyone willing to listen, in the way he frowns in regret and barely meets anyone’s eyes except when it’s in challenge — and, most of all, in the way he never, never meets Will’s eyes. In the way he looks away when the other boy turns to him, and in the way his eyes will snap back and take in everything about his best friend when he’s not aware of it. 

Maybe it’s because the sky is pink and lilac and purple above them, allowing for a certain magic to happen, allowing for a bravery that doesn’t come easy to him; but as he sits on the roof next to Mike Wheeler, the only one of the Party he never really connected with, he closes his eyes against the breeze that catches in his hair and opens his jacket a little further, slithering beneath the fabric as if in a brief embrace, a nudge, a sign to take this leap, and takes a deep breath. 

His heart is picking up its pace inside his chest, taking this leap along wit him, and pulls up one of his legs to wrap his hands around it — just to have something to hold onto. 

He opens his mouth once, twice, three times, but the words never really come out. They don’t know how, and he’s beginning to tremble a little with it, tension building in his chest where the words are still locked away, hidden among layers of truth. 

Mike looks over with a frown and eyes him warily. It makes Steve want to laugh, this sudden change of pace, but he just keeps staring ahead; even when Mike asks, “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” Steve says. And then then dam is broken and breaking further, and with another deep breath, still not meeting Mike’s eyes, instead focusing on the tree tops in the distance that shine in hues of purple, he finally says, “I’m kind of dating Eddie Munson.” 

And just like that, it’s out. He’s out. 

He doesn’t know if the world still spins, if time still passes, if he still breathes, because for a moment there is only silence. Mike stops picking at the skin of his fingers, Steve stops trembling, and neither of them moves. 

It’s both anticlimactic and momentous, this silence between them when their eyes meet. When the words unfold and grow wings, when Mike understands, his eyes growing big with something that Steve can’t quite read with how tense he is despite his best efforts. 

The silence stretches between them, surpassing comfort and overstaying its welcome, and suddenly it’s Steve who feels like he’s about to take off if Mike so much as twitches his brows. 

“You… What?” 

Forget it, Steve wants to say. Nothing. 

But also, I’m in love with Eddie Munson. And I used to be in love with Nancy. And that’s okay. Both of that, it’s okay. 

He ends up repeating his words, though, because they know what it’s like to be spoken now. “Eddie. I’m kind of dating Eddie.” 

“But…” It’s Mike now whose mouth is opening and closing without saying anything. Mike who’s blinking, trembling a little, twitching, picking at his skin again, moving further along his hand this time to pinch the skin between his thumb and pointer finger. Steve almost reaches out to stop him, but he doesn’t really dare to. 

“But?” he prompts after a while, not quite comfortable with this loaded kind of silence. 

“Eddie’s a boy.” 

But Tammy Thompson is a girl. 

“I know,” Steve says, his tone carefully neutral, wanting to see, to wait where Mike takes this, to hear what’s on his mind, to watch the wheels turn and the gears shift. He feels awfully raw and open, vulnerable with someone who hasn’t been treating that with care yet. But there’s something about this moment that feels bigger than his own fears, bigger than the light nausea settling in his gut; far more important than the way he wants to run and hide, away from the scrutiny. 

“And…” Mike continues, still battling the words inside his head. Steve wonders if there are too many or none at all. “But you… You loved Nancy.” 

Ah. Smart boy. “I did,” Steve says with a small smile. “And it was never a lie. But I found that… Yeah, I can kinda like boys, too, y’know? And that’s, like, okay.”

A beat. A frown. A confused, hopeful, small, “It is?” 

Steve just nods, smiling in reassurance and relief at equal measures. Silence settles once more, now that the sky has darkened into a deeper, darker blue; but it’s not as loaded this time, not as tense. It’s an invitation. An offering. A promise of I’m here, I’m with you, you can take as long as you need. To get down from the roof, to come back, to come out of wherever you think you need to hide from the world. 

Mike takes it. He stays, pulling up his leg, too, mirroring Steve’s pose and staring ahead, but not as far away. He seems alert, seems to be thinking rather than dwelling, seems to be gearing up for something. Steve watches and sees and knows, remaining patient beside him, his chin resting on his knee as Mike learns to deal with this new world that has been presented to him. This new world that comes with opportunities and chances and possibilities that are scary and big and difficult to make. 

“Y’know,” Mike starts at last, interrupting the silence, playing with it, his voice hushed and quiet to keep it from disappearing completely. “Lucas, when he had that championship game? He told us, Dustin and me, that we didn’t have to be the losers this time. The nerds. The outcasts. Different. And all I wanted was to scream at him, because…” 

Mike swallows his words, keeping them from tumbling out of his mouth, and Steve aches for him again. He wants to reach out, wants to say it’s okay, tell him it’s alright, to take his time. But he waits in silence, lets Mike find the bravery he needs on his own, and waits. 

“Because how could he say that, you know? How could he, when… Will wasn’t there. And all I did, all I ever did anymore, was miss him. And I loved El, I knew I did. And she was gone, too, but…” 

He trails off again, and this time Steve picks it up. To let him know he’s not alone. To let Mike know he understands what he’s saying. He understands. “But she’s not Will. You needed Will.” 

“But I shouldn’t!” Mike explodes suddenly, riled up because Steve adds fuel to the fire, because Steve has that same fire, too; and because they are so, so similar when they want to be. “And now he’s back and it should be fine, I shouldn’t be feeling like this, it doesn’t even make sense! How can I…” 

Steve looks at him, at his expression that is nothing but lost — completely and utterly. He’s seen it on the bathroom floor at the mall; high out of his mind as he was, he’ll never forget the way Robin looked at him, the sheer crestfallen expression. All that confusion, all that fear and frustration and, in the end, resignation. He’s seen it in the mirror, and he’s seen it in those pretty brown eyes that he just can’t get out of his head anymore. 

He offers, gently, “How can you need him when he’s right there? How can you love him when a year ago you loved El?”

And Mike just looks at him before he deflates completely, his shoulders falling along with his face. He nods. Shrugs. Looks away and hides his face behind his leg. 

Steve sighs softly, watching the boy and speaking the words he wants to say the sixteen year-old version of himself. “I don’t know,” he says truthfully. “I really don’t, and it sucks sometimes, having this need to, like, decide. Or understand. Or stop and be like the rest of them.” Like Robin and Eddie, or like the rest of the world. “But I like to think, sometimes, that maybe it’s a good thing. That there’s just… I don’t know, it sounds corny as hell, but like, there’s just so much love to give, we can’t even stick to only boys or girls, y’know.” 

“That does sound real corny as fuck, man,” Mike says, and back is that long suffering tone of his, back is that eye roll and the twitching elbow, ready to nudge Steve in the side. It’s still tinged with that vulnerability, not quite Mike yet, but it’s an offering.

One of many tonight, it seems.

Steve grins, a bit lopsided and raw, shoving Mike gently as he remembers something he overheard once. “Sorry, mister Heart of our group, but I don’t think you have any leg to stand on here.”

That makes Mike freeze, though, and he stares at Steve wide-eyed; caught. Exposed. Reminded.

“What did you say?”

“Uh,” Steve falters, not sure where he went wrong — or if he went wrong at all. “I overheard Will calling you that, talking about you to, uhm. Someone. I don’t know. Why, what’s— What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Mike says, way too quickly, pulling away again with everything he has, hiding behind those walls once more, and Steve feels whiplash from it.

“Mike,” he says, his voice quiet and gentle as he turns to face him completely.

“No.”

“It’s okay,” Steve says. Promises, as much as he can.

“Shut up!”

“You’re not wrong or bad or broken. It’s okay, you’re okay.”

“I said, shut up, Steve.”

“You should see the way he looks at you, too. You should go talk to him. You—“

Mike lashes out, finally coming out from behind those walls again, only to shove at Steve, to push him away — hard enough for him to lose his balance and almost fall off the roof, clenching one hand on the edge, the other in the rainwater gutter with a bitten-off curse.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” Mike reaches for him immediately, snapping out of whatever anger Steve caused, and pulling him back until he’s safe again, apologising over and over, dead to Steve’s promises that it’s alright. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Steve, I’m so—“

He pulls Mike against his chest, finally reaching out to hold the boy who always pushes people away when they get too close — quite literally, too.

But he doesn’t shove this time, doesn’t move out of Steve’s grasp as the mumbled apologies become heaving sobs.

“It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re so okay, Mike,” Steve tells him over and over as he holds him. The sky above is almost black now and Steve lets Mike cry into his chest.

It takes a while for Mike to calm down, but Steve just holds him through it, ready to let go whenever Mike wants to pull back and snap out of it again — but he never does, and Steve feels a certain kind of affection for the boy that is usually reserved for Lucas or Dustin.

At last, when he’s calmed down, Mike pulls back a little. “Do you really… Does it… Is it really okay?”

Can it be okay? Can I really like both? Is that not just me, being broken and wrong and bad? Will I get the chance to not be alone?

Steve swallows hard, and his voice is hoarse when he says, “Yeah. It’s really okay. ‘N’ I’m with you, yeah? If someone gives you shit for it. Or if you need a reminder.”

And Mike — puffy eyed, snotty nosed, so, so young — looks at him with those trusting eyes and nods, like he believes Steve. Like he trusts him. Like he hopes.

“Just don’t fucking shove me off your roof again.”

Ans just like that, the spell is broken, the tension is lifted, and silence has left them, as Mike almost chokes on a laugh and shoves at him again, lightly this time, before jumping off the roof so Steve can’t retaliate.

“Asshole,” he mutters, shaking his head as he, too, jumps off the roof, dusting off his pants as he watches Mike grabbing his bike. “Hey, Micycle,” he calls, cackling when Mike flips him the bird. “You want a ride back?”

Mike stops, considering as Steve casually flicks his keys into the air and catches them expertly. “What kinda music do you got?”

“The Clash, ‘cause Eddie hates them.”

“Yeah, that’s because they suck!”

Steve snorts, opening the driver’s side door. “Y’know, they’re one of Will’s favourites, actually.”

He watches Mike freeze with a grin on his face, knowing there’s no way the boy would take the bike.

“You’re so annoying,” Mike sighs as he brings his bike close to the garage and carefully lays it on the grass this time before hurrying over to Steve, getting in on the front, rolling his eyes when Steve cackles. “I don’t know why Eddie would date you—“

His words are drowned out when Steve turns up Train in Vain, drumming along on the steering wheel with a shit eating grin. Though the atmosphere is wildly different now, the spell broken and the bubble burst, it’s undeniable that something happened between them. Something big, something important.

Something that makes Mike’s annoyed, long-suffering expression be broken by the smile he’s trying to hide. It makes Steve laugh, elated and feeling something that’s much, much bigger than he himself ever could be.

It’s going to be okay. So, so okay.

Before they know it, they’re pulling up to Steve’s and he turns off the car, is about to get out when Mike makes him still again.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Hm?”

“I think it’s cool. You and Eddie.”

He smiles, relief and fondness washing over him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.” He reaches over and ruffles Mike’s hair — a wild mane these days, but they could make it work with some care and some products. “Now go get your man, lover boy.”

“God, you suck so much, you’re so annoying!”

Steve’s cackling again when the passenger door slams shut and Mike lets himself into his house.

He spots a figure in the dark, their face lighting up when they take a drag of a cigarette — and Steve’s heart stumbles in his chest. He scrambles to get out, attempting to look calm and collected, even though Eddie always manages to see right through him.

“Hello, stranger,” he says, leaning against the wall beside Eddie, hiding away in the dark, where the world won’t see their shoulders touch, or their fingers tentatively playing with each other before they can’t take it no longer and lace their hands, holding on tight.

“Hi,” Eddie breathes. “How’d it go?”

“Fine, I think. But, uhm… I told him. About me. About us. That, uh. That okay?”

Even in the dark, Steve can feel eyes on him, but he just stares ahead, opting instead to give his warm hand a squeeze. He smiles when Eddie’s thumb begins to draw patterns on his palm.

“Hmm. Very. You think they’ll be okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, stealing Eddie’s cigarette from his mouth and pulling it between his own lips. “Yeah, I think they will be.”

[wu-does-art]

bad day,

boyfriend comfortable,

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]

Mike might not die in season 5, but he's definitely gonna go through hell, whether that be from Vecna or himself

[minipax]

The two sides of the same coin

Not visible depression | Visible depression

[bangtanthoughts]

do you guys ever just sit and think about the fact will is the connection to the upside down so there's a chance if they ever want to kill vecna once and for good will is gonna have to die and like will is aware of that and he's gonna be ready to sacrifice himself just like he was in s2 cause i do all the time and i NEED a scene of mike losing his shit when will tries to sacrifice himself for everybody and trying to rescue him before it's too late

[michaelqueerler]

I will never get over how hoppers s3 speech is litterally about byler

"But I know you're getting older. Growing. Changing."

^ him hugging his mom when he loses will

[darkcrowprincess]

Me watching Mike Wheeler make things worse and worse for himself when it comes to him and Will:

[queen-of-hawkins-why-ler]

[tw: SA and depression/mental illness] Will Byers's story is so mental illness-coded in addition to obviously being about SA, trauma, and traumatic experiences that are unique to being queer. Thinking back to the final shots of season 1 in which the Byers family is so happy and everything seems fine because Will is back, he's safe, it's all over; but that doesn't mean any of it is even remotely over for Will.

Will's POV in season 2 hits so hard because it reminds me of what it was like to be a young teenager navigating depression and other mental illnesses despite being externally happy and outgoing. Will is glad to be part of his friend group again, despite how traumatized he is, but the boys, by no fault of their own, simply can't relate and can't even begin to fathom what Will has been through, which obviously leaves Will feeling isolated. It's like, he's grateful of course for all of their friendship, but he still feels like he's going through it all on his own. He's thankful for the support and love his friends and loved ones can give him even though it's Not Enough.

And that's what mental illness so often feels like. You may have the overwhelming love and support of loved ones, but your mental illness makes you feel alone anyways, because those who are not experiencing what you're going through just don't have the tools, advice, or firsthand knowledge that is going to allow them to sympathize with you or make you feel better. There's also the secrecy element, as you'll rarely share with even your closest loved ones the full extent of your suffering. And of course, you feel like you're quite literally "going crazy" (wink wink), dealing with this intense suffering that makes you see and believe things that aren't true while everyone else around you seems fine, unbothered, and completely functional.

Even in s3 when Will is supposedly "well" again, he is isolated from the rest of the party, has completely separate priorities from them, and is simply disinterested in the fun, stupid drama they're getting themselves into because he is on a totally separate wavelength, trying to heal from trauma and learn to cope with what he's been through. And once again, his friends simply lack the tools needed to be able to fully be there for him, leaving him once again sidelined, processing things on his own. It totally reminds me of being told things like "I thought things were good now/I thought you were doing better now?" Most mental illnesses cannot "get better" or completely go away, you simply learn how to manage them and they get better sometimes and flare up badly at others. It's an ebb and flow. And Will's trauma and his entire connection to the Upside Down is a daily struggle that he successfully stays on top of some of the time but buckles underneath the weight of at others. And sometimes it's like people around him expect him to be able to "keep up" or function at the same level the rest of them are at, completely ignorant to how debilitating his condition is. He's always alone in a sense because no one else can truly relate to having been stuck in the UD all that time and also literally possessed and taken advantage of by the Mindflayer and Vecna.

And then Will's s4 story is so representative of what mental illness can make you feel and believe about yourself. Despite all of the suffering he's gone through, he doesn't believe he's worthy of the one thing he wants the most, which is Mike's love. He won't even allow himself to be a contender for it, won't even put himself up for consideration because he simply doesn't believe he deserves it. He feels like a mistake, and that's exactly how chronic mental illness makes you feel: that you don't deserve happiness or any of the things you want or care about.

All I know is that it will be SO cathartic to see my gay, traumatized, mentally ill boy actually find happiness and get the love he so badly wants with Mike!! The odds feel so stacked against his him, but Will Byers is going to be happy and beyond loved and taken care of by his man for the rest of his life.

[booksandpaperss]

so… y’all do realize that Mike’s relationship with his mom is not healthy, right?

Or am I gonna need to explain why having a mom that outwardly says she’s “there for you” and does genuinely care, but is never actually emotionally available in part due to having a completely absent husband is not exactly a recipe for a healthy mother-son relationship 😐

[w3bheadz]

where is my mind . . ?

Title from the song where is my mind by pixies

Just a lil Mike Angst for the soul bc there isn’t enough

mike dies , he was in a not so silly goofy mood 

It all started on that cliff. The moment he realized he couldn’t do it without will, was on that day at the quarry. He was happy Eleven had saved him, but a part of himself wished she hadn’t. Mike knew, deep deep down, this was his fault. He was the reason Will had been taken that night. Will could have stayed the night, Mike could have invited him to. But he didn’t. And Will was taken.

A couple days later, he went back to the quarry and sat on the edge, wondering why it hadn’t been him. They were all kids, sure, but why would it have taken Will. The kid that was mercilessly bullied with slurs, the kid he had sworn to protect since kindergarten, gone. Just like that.

Then, they found him. Not just as a body dumped in the quarry, but in the upside down. Will was taken to the hospital in which Mike refused to leave his side. Not to eat, drink, or shower, at least until his parents dragged him home.

He had never had good parents. His mom cared when it was convenient and his dad was a horrible person. Ted Wheeler, the epitome of bad fathers. He was constantly judging and criticizing Mike or he was forgetting the existence of his only son. There was never an in between. 

Ever since Mike was little, he was never about to be the most masculine, or the most athletic, and that bothered Ted. But then again, Ted was Ted. He was never happy with his son or his older daughter no matter what they did. Nancy and Mike were different though, She stopped caring. He didn’t.

Fast forward to the next hospital stay, Mike was the first to notice something off. He tried, so hard to tell them. To let them know it was a trap. But they didn’t listen, they just didn’t. And now they were dead. He had to tell Mrs. Byers that Will was the spy, and that they needed to make Will sleep. He covered his ears, but nothing could block out the screaming he heard that night. To this day, the screams will forever haunt the nightmares it brought.

Then in his garage , he stabbed Will’s emotions 

“ It’s not my fault you don’t like girls! “

Is what he said, and that hurt Will, he knew it did. And he would never, ever forgive himself for it. 

So when the byers left, and El kissed him, he didn’t kiss back. It felt … wrong- like it wasn’t where his heart was. At that moment, he knew exactly what it meant. He was in love with William Byers, and so far in that he couldn’t pull himself out of it if he tried. When everyone biked home, he went to the quarry instead. And thats where he found himself now. 

So, to bring back to the original thought, as Mike stood by the quarry, walking the edge, and looking over occasionally. He didn’t WANT to die, but he didn’t want to live either. Will was gone. He was in Cali, and he was going to make new friends, probably forget all about Mike. He deserved it though, Mike had been a complete asshole to him before he’d left. 

Will deserved the world, more than he could ever give him, but it was okay, because Mike couldn’t get in the way anymore. He’d be gone before he could interrupt or bother anyone ever again. He took a step off the edge, and as he fell, he thought of everything happy that had ever happened in his life. Most of the memories contained Will, and all of the sleepovers, the dnd games. It wouldn’t happen anymore. He accepted it as a fact of life before it all went dark. As the water knocked the air out of him, he whispered one last thing. 

“ I love you “

[lunabug2004]

GOODNESS GRACIOUS IT MAKES ME SO MAD WHEN PEOPLE JUST SHRUG OFF MIKE'S S2 BREAKDOWN 😡😡😡

I don't understand how it's so hard for some people to understand why Mike was so completely entitled to a breakdown. This child (some people seem to forget he's just a child going through things even the adults have trouble dealing with) has been through so much already and finding out Hopper has been actively lying to him, inadvertently fueling his depression, for almost a whole year... I don't understand why or how some people think he is overreacting or just bring a bratty child. He is by far one of the characters the most entitled to having an emotional breakdown at that moment and I will forever stand by that.

[euryleli]

I don't know why but I tend to like byler fics more when they're from mike's point of view (or better yet - a dual pov with mike AND will)

Still, if I had to choose one? Mike all the way and I don't even know why