#mike needs a hug

[tartarusknight]

Steve had this habit, a habit which most of the party were annoyed by. They understood it, God did they understand. But after everything was over and the Upside Down was gone for good, it kept happening. Months and months of daily calls. Just Steve checking in and asking them about their day.

Mike hadn't understood why he was on the list of names Steve would call, but if he didn't pick up the phone, there would be a knock on the door within the hour. And Steve, sometimes followed by Robin, would stop by like he was that important to them. Once, it had been on their way to work, and Steve had only locked eyes with him and raised an eyebrow. Mike just flipped him off and continued reading his comic.

Dustin had told him it was Steve's way of coping, and Lucas had turned the calls into workouts with the older teen. Will had just gone a little red and nodded along. El smiled and told Mike about the tips for hair care she got. Max just rolled her eyes and said that Steve had taken to stopping by with food most days.

Steve would be there. He was always there. It was annoying, but it was a constant. Maybe that's why Mike laid awake as the clock ticked closer and closer to midnight. Normally, he could fall asleep within minutes, a habit he had inherited from his dad. But he could bring himself to sleep as his phone didn't ring. As the walkie stayed silent. As the door remained untouched, no knock to be heard.

And it was stupid. Because Mike didn't want Steve to call him every day just to ask him if he was okay. It made him feel like a kid. It reminded Mike of his mom, but even his mom wasn't that bad. No, no one really did that for Mike. No one checked in day after day even as he remained uncaring towards them. No one but Steve.

Until now...

Mike watched the clock as it passed midnight, and his stomach twisted into knots. Fear bubbled up, and he pictured Steve getting into a fight he couldn't walk away from. He pictured a car crash so great that Steve was unable to reach for the walkie he carried with him everywhere. He pictured the worst- the Upside Down still around. The demogorgon coming up and dragging Steve into that hellpit.

Mike was up and pulling on a warm sweatshirt before those images were fully formed. He crawled out his window and down the roof, not too unlike the way Steve had done to visit Nancy. It left him already out of breath by the time he climbed on his bike. But that didn't stop him. He pushed off the ground, biking as fast as he could towards Loch Nora.

The cold air hot his face, and the road seemed to go on forever, but Mike didn't stop. He couldn't stop. Not until Steve's place was in view.

Mike tossed his bike uncarringly onto the pavement before slamming his fist into the Harrington's nice door. He didn't let up. He couldn't as an image of Steve dead in his own pool floated in his mind.

However, then the door was opening. Steve stood there, looking like he hadn't been asleep either. A smear of white powder on his cheek and a hollowness in his eyes. But still, something eased in Mike the same time Steve lost some of that weight in his shoulders as well. "You- you didn't-" Mike started, still out of breath. "Call. Why didn't you- call?" He gasped and Steve looked at him with a weird expression.

"You- What?" Steve questioned, sounding lost.

Mike crossed his arms, "I- you can't just stop!" He gasped out, and Steve's brow furrowed.

"But you don't like it when I do? I annoy you," he tries to point out, and Mike huffs.

"God, of course you annoy me! You track our days more intensly than my mom, and you always make dumb jokes, and I hate that I find them funny! You always call when I'm in the middle of something, and you make it easy to stay on the phone! You are always there like some weird older brother that I never asked for!" Mike shouts and Steve's eyes are wide.

"You don't have to stay around or call, but you do! You do, and you actually care. Like when you call and ask me if I'm okay, it feels like you care, and I don't understand why! I don't get you! I didn't ask you to care about me, but even when you were dating Nancy, you cared! You took Holly and me to get ice cream even though Nancy had to study! You give me and my friends rides everywhere! You care!" Mike throws his hands up in the air.

He glares at the older teen, "You care so much that I stupidly care about you! I care enough to come and check on you because when you didn't call, all I could think was that you were like dead or something," Mike snaps and takes a step back. "But you're obviously fine so-" and he wants to run suddenly. To run from the way Steve's eyes are filled with tears or the stupid words he just told the older teen.

Steve runs a hand through his hair, tugging slightly. "Mike, I stopped because I didn't think you wanted me to. You always acted like I was your least favorite person in the world and I guess I just- I didn't feel like it was fair to force you to put up with me just because I can't handle not knowing if you were okay." Steve said, and it didn't sound like the normal Steve. He sounded tired and nervous. He sounded like someone had finally beaten him

Mike bites his lip and tastes salt like he had been crying. Or maybe he still was. He crosses his arms like he can shield himself from this conversation. "But now you don't care enough to keep calling?"

Steve rubbed his face, a sigh shaking his whole body as he did. "I still care, kid."

Mike scoffs, "You didn't call."

Steve drops his hands to his sides. "Just come inside. It's too late for you to bike home. I'll call your place and leave a message." Steve says, his voice sounding close to tears. Mike is stiff when he lets Steve pull him inside.

They are quiet as Steve guides him towards the kitchen. The kitchen that has music playing softly and smelling like a bake sale. He blinks as he steps into the room and spots cookies cooling on a rack and a pie stilling uncooked on the counter. The top crust is sitting on the counter next to it. There's a smell of something in the oven, and Mike states at all of it in confusion.

"I bake when I can't relax," Steve admits, and Mike glances over at him. "I still care, and I was trying to give you space. I was trying not to crowd you, so I just," and he waves his hand around the mess everywhere. The smear of white on his cheek now makes sense.

Mike hugged himself, "I don't- I don't mind the calls." He whispered, and it got a snort from Steve.

He looked over at Mike, "I kinda got that from your speech."

They stood there in silence for another moment before Steve moved to finish putting his pie together. "I know that we aren't close or anything. But I care, it's not just the Upside Down making me anxious, it's just that-" and Steve went quiet. "I went overboard, I get it. But now I just- I can't stop." He admits, and Mike hates how upset Steve sounds. How guilty he sounds.

"I fall asleep easier knowing that if someone wasn't okay, we'd know because of you. It's like you take all the stress from me just by being around." He says, and Steve's eyes are wide. "Maybe we just do a sound off every night so you don't have to play phone tag all day." He shrugs, and Steve wrinkles his nose.

"I don't really get how to use the walkie. Like Dustin tried to show me, but he got distracted and started talking about radio waves and well..." Steve mimed it going over his head.

Mike snorted to hide how much that terrified him. The thought of something bad happening and Steve not being able to respond. But he pushed it away as Steve looked at him as if waiting for Mike to tease him. "That's fair. We did modify them, so they worked better. It's not as simple as your average walkie. I can show you," he offered, and Steve's face split into a grin.

"Cool, want to help me finish this so I can put it in the fridge until tomorrow? Then you can teach me the ways," Steve says, going all dramatic, proving to Mike he'd been spending too much time with Eddie. Mike groaned but came over only for Steve to shove him to the sink to wash his hands.

Steve showed him what to do, and Mike was glad to have Steve around. Because sure Steve's habit was annoying, and sometimes it interfered with Mike's plans, but it was nice too. Steve was nice. And that was something Mike ever believed would happen. But as Steve joked that Mike should not become a baker, he was nice. Like the way Mike was nice to Holly or how Nancy was nice to him. He was part of the family, annoyingly nice habits and all.

[riahlynn101]

"Everything Will Be Okay (Eventually)."

Summary: Inspired by this scene from "Bridge to Terabithia," https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=876q4m1O408

Mike comes to terms with the fact that his brother is never coming home again. Slowly and painfully.

Trigger warnings: Implied/referenced kidnapping and murder, grief, guilt, and a child in distress.

This scene broke me as a kid, and I think it fits Mike's character (ironic considering both characters are played by Josh Hutcherson).

I will write something happy, eventually. I promise, but something about these siblings makes me want to write all the angst.

--

Mike stumbles out of the house, stopping just barely to slip his shoes on. He needs to leave. He needs to get out. He needs-

The houses pass by in a blur. Mike runs as fast as he can. The wind catches in his hair, blowing it off his tear-stained face. He doesn’t know where he’s going, or why he’s running. Only that he needs to get away. 

He runs several blocks down. A dead-end, where the street meets a forest. A simple metal sign warns off potential intruders. Mike climbs over it and continues running. 

The trees tower over him, blocking out the setting sun. It’s not completely dark, but it will be soon. Animals chatter, hiding in the trees and bushes. Their songs a background noise to his spiraling thoughts. 

His foot catches on a tree root, pulling him to the ground. He falls on his hands and knees. A dull pain radiates from his palms, mingling with the ache in his sides. His breaths come out faster. He heaves, using one of his skinned palms to pull at his shirt. 

Mike’s heart beats faster. It, too, hurts. 

Garrett and he used to play in these woods all the time. Any free time they had they were playing pretend here - tag and hide-and-seek and pirates and two people piloting a plane…...

Behind him, a stick cracks. 

Chest heaving, he pushes himself up. He needs to go. Someone is here. They’re going to hurt him. They’re going to take him. Just like they did to-

Mike forces himself into a sprint, pushing past the achy feeling in his body. The forest is darker now. It makes it hard to see. His mind is racing, thoughts scattered in a thousand different places. 

Whoever’s chasing him speeds up. Underbrush is kicked up, as he does everything in his power to go faster. Mike sucks in air, but it doesn’t help. More sticks break behind him. 

He imagines a huge, hulking monster with red eyes and large claws clamoring after him.

Last Halloween, he watched The Thing with his little brother. Not their smartest idea, as they both had nightmares for weeks on end afterwards. The monster’s true form is never revealed, but Mike’s mind had no problems coming up with what it thinks the monster looks like. A similar image of the movie monster pops into his head, pushing him to stay out of its claws. 

“Mike!” The monster calls out, sounding oddly familiar. But he won’t be fooled. 

Mike dashes further into the woods. It’s so dark now. He stops for a moment. Everything feels like it’s spinning. Faster and faster. He gulps down some air, looking around. From here, everything looks the same. He can’t tell where he came from. 

A hand clamps down on his shoulder. “Michael-”

He screams, loudly. 

So loud that the hand yanks itself away, only to come back a moment later to pull Mike closer. The monster shushes him. “Mikey, Mikey, it’s okay. Shhh…it’s okay.”

Mike opens his eyes. He looks up. “D-dad…?” All his previous fear vanishes. He collapses against his dad, who carefully kneels on the ground. A stern expression on his face. He holds Mike’s face in his hands.

“Mike, what are you doing out here? Your mother and I were worried sick..”

“I-I…” He can’t get the words to come out. 

“What?” His dad asks, sounding genuinely concerned. Which, for some reason, hurts worse than if they just blamed him for the whole thing. “Please, Mike, we just want to-”

“I’m sorry,” he finally says. Hot tears drip from his eyes. He sniffles, chest stuttering. 

“For what?” A thumb wipes at his tears, and his dad’s eyes soften just a touch. “What in the world are you saying sorry for?”

“For…I’m sorry….I…” He sobs, throwing himself at his dad’s chest. A hand cards through his hair. 

“Is this about your brother?”

He nods, fists clutching his dad’s jacket. Even if he doesn’t deserve it, Mike can’t bring himself to let go. One last lifeline. 

“Son, that wasn’t your fault.”

“But it was!” Mike insists, voice going up an octave or two. Snot and tears mix, making his neck feel all sticky and gross. His chest and throat ache from the force of his crying. “I…I should have been watching. It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault. It’s all my-”

His dad cuts him off. “Michael Schmidt, stop it!” 

Mike takes a shaky breath, letting his dad speak. His dad holds his chin in place with one hand, making sure that Mike hears him, fully and completely. 

“None of this, and I do mean none of this, is your fault. It’s not mine. It’s not your mother’s. And it is certainly, one hundred percent, not yours. Do you understand me?”

He sobs again, and his dad lets him go, letting Mike cling to him. “Why did they have to take Garrett!? Why my little brother!? Dad why!?” The words come out nearly unintelligible, mumbled and garbled by his sobs, but his dad seems to understand him anyway. 

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, kissing the top of Mike’s head. “I have no idea.”

“I just want my brother back! I miss him so much! I want to play with my best friend again! It hurts so much! Why does it hurt so much!?”

His dad lightly hums, continuing to stroke his hair. “I don’t know.”

“I keep watching the door, hoping that he’ll come home. But-but he never does. Garrett’s not coming home, is he?” He asks in a strained voice. 

His dad stays quiet, and that’s all the answer that Mike needs.

For hours (though, in reality it’s probably an hour at most), his dad holds him in the middle of a quickly darkening forest. Mike wails. All the pent-up grief and sadness and anger at the entire situation, makes itself known. 

When he can’t muster up any more tears, Mike and his dad walk home in silence. His dad keeps a gentle hand on his shoulder the entire walk back, guiding and reassuring him that everything’s going to be okay. 

And it will be….

…. eventually….

[kazzledazzledazzle]

mike gets a hug :')

[bylerworld]

dude's always pissed 😭

[thegrandharveyspecter]

Trip to a Coffee Shop; a Harvey, Mike & Scott Drabble Part Six: The Not So Cold Hearted Bastard

Harvey was in the middle of placing one of Scott’s blankets over Mike Ross’ scrawny body when he heard the amused voice of the coffee shop owner.

“People really say you’re a cold hearted bastard, huh?” Scott said. “After seeing this, it’s hard to believe.”

Harvey finished wrapping Mike up before turning to face Scott, scowling. He wasn’t surprised that Scott had a shit eating grin on his face. There was also a look in his eyes that Harvey couldn’t place.

“Listen, the kid just fell asleep and it’s chillier today,” Harvey said. “Besides, you should be upset that I just took one of your blankets.”

“Well, I’m not because it’s for the greater good,” Scott said, shrugging. 

His shit eating grin turned to a soft one when he looked at Mike. The kid looked like a puppy, curled up in the blanket. It gave Harvey a warm feeling, looking at Mike peaceful like that. Harvey couldn’t help but wonder what the kid slept on when he wasn’t at the shop.

“It’s a shame you’re so worried about your reputation.” Scott shook his head. “I’m sure people would love to see this other side of you.”

“Yeah, well, that’s never going to happen,” Harvey said, giving Scott a warning glance. “This doesn’t leave the shop.”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Scott raised his hands and moved behind the counter. “Reputation comes first.”

“You know what this place needs?” Harvey asked, moving to sit on one of the stools. “Treats. Muffins and whatnot. Baked goods.”

Scott’s brows raised, whistled lowly so as to not wake Mike. “Well, we both know that can’t happen. Not enough money.”

Harvey nodded. That was very true. Scott could barely pay for rent, no less the supplies for coffee. Even if he didn’t make a lot of coffee…It was just Harvey and Mike after all. However, Scott still needed money for personal food as well, even if the man never mentioned it.

Before Harvey got the chance to say anything, Scott raised his hand. “Don’t even suggest it, Harvey.”

Harvey rolled his eyes, huffing. If anything, Harvey was going to bring in baked goods for himself rather than for Scott’s sake.

“Anyway, I need to check out some of my bills and call Cassie. It’s still a while until I can see her, but I can still call her.”

Harvey nodded, watched as Scott went into the backroom. He had no idea how Scott could look at his bills and not get overwhelmed. Sometimes it almost made Harvey feel bad for being rich. It was such an odd feeling.

It was a day off, hence why Harvey was in the shop earlier than usual. He did bring his laptop with him to do some work on the side, but nothing major. As the days went on, Harvey found himself going to Little Guy Café a lot more than he thought he ever would. 

A few hours passed, it was 4:00PM and Mike still hadn’t woken up. He slept the entire day. Scott was in and out of the backroom, making coffee, organizing things and being on the phone with his little girl.

At the sound of moaning, Harvey looked over to the couch where Mike was laying. Even from where Harvey sat at the counter, he could see the kid’s face all scrunched up. Despite the blanket he had, he was also shivering. Harvey knew what these symptoms were, as he had many of them himself. Not that he’d admit it to anyone.

“Mike, wake up,” Harvey said when he reached his side. “Come on, buddy.”

The moment Harvey placed a hand on Mike’s shoulder, the kid went into fight or flight. He flinched away from Harvey, got tangled in the blanket and collapsed onto the floor. Mike tried to get out of the blanket, failed, and just tried to move away from Harvey.

“Hey, hey, stop,” Harvey said, evenly. He lowered himself on his knees. “Mike, it’s okay. It was just a nightmare.”

Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to reach out to try and touch him again. Harvey did try to keep his hold on Mike’s shoulders gentle, but god forbid. This kid was not having it.

“No, get off! Stop it!” Mike shouted, shoving Harvey away. “Go away! I’ve had enough already!”

Harvey needed to find out who hurt Mike later and deal with them. Whoever hurt him needed to get karma for traumatizing this kid.

“Hey, what’s going on out here?” Scott asked, rushing out of the backroom. “What happened?”

“Nothing, I got it,” Harvey grunted as Mike tried to keep him away.

“Please…”

Harvey stopped wasting time, just pulled Mike into a hug, keeping his arms around him. It was a bit awkward and rough because Mike still tried to pull away. Harvey did his best to keep Mike still, trying to have him focus on his heartbeat. He didn’t fail to notice that Scott was watching intently.

“Breathe, breathe,” Harvey whispered. “You’re in a safe place. Little Guy Café is a safe place.”

Mike stopped struggling against Harvey, but his body didn’t stop shaking. Poor thing trembled like a leaf. So, Harvey did what he thought was best, kept his arms around Mike. He rubbed his back gently. This came a bit more naturally than the hug he and Scott had a few days ago.

“Water, please,” Harvey sighed, looking over at Scott.

Scott nodded, backed up, didn’t take his eyes off Harvey and Mike for a moment and then went to the water pitcher. Harvey read people, and he could read the surprise, genuine surprise on Scott’s face at the scene.

Harvey took the glass of water from Scott when he came back, separated a bit from Mike so he could hand it to him. He helped hold the glass still so Mike wouldn’t spill the water as he took a drink. When he was done, Harvey handed the glass back to Scott.

Mike sniffled and slumped against Harvey. He didn’t look at either of the adults in the room, simply kept his eyes on the floor. Harvey ruffled Mike’s hair a bit; that was something that was slowly but surely becoming a habit.

“Cold hearted bastard, huh?” Scott repeated what he had earlier that day. “Would someone so cold do this?”

Harvey groaned. There wasn’t a mocking or teasing tone per say, but he didn’t like being called out on his acts of kindness. It was one thing to do them, it was another to be called out on it.

Mike didn’t notice or didn’t care. He just remained slumped against Harvey.

“This-”

“Doesn’t leave the shop, I know,” Scott said, shaking his head. “I still think it’d be good for other people to see you like this.”

“That’s not going to happen. Ever.”

Scott shrugged. “I still stand by what I said. You aren’t as cold as people think and it’d be good for others to know.”

“No. Go away.”

Scott tilted his head. “This is my shop…”

“Go to your room,” Harvey clarified.

“I can’t believe it…You just told me, an adult, to go to my room…”

“Just give me and the kid some space, you little ant.”

Scott mock saluted. “Yessir, Harvey, sir.”

Harvey rolled his eyes as Scott went to the backroom. All the while, Harvey didn’t let go of Mike.

[lunabug2004]

The first time I watched s4, I remember thinking this

was such strange blocking for Mike... Like why isn't he celebrating with the others?

Then I remembered the way he's been pulling away from everyone since s2. This is a perfect clue put in for the audience to realize/remember this.

He's not only being hidden from the audience, he's hiding himself from his friends as well!

Istg the blocking in this show is actually genius.

[luv-byers]

I just KNOW that Mike would have hugged Will like this in the airport scene if they were the only people there….

[royalarchivist]

Pac: I said, "Hey, let's do something fun, you know? Let's kidnap the [Federation] baker!" And we are kind of like, locked up, and [Richarlyson's] even sadder now, right? Phil: I can put my hand through the bars. Pac: [Laughs] Can I ho– Please save us! Phil: Do you miss human touch, Pac? Pac: Yeah, I miss human touch. Phil: I'm here for you. [...] We can smuggle things into jail. [To Richarlyson] It's okay, mate. Pac: Can you smuggle me a cellphone?* I know information is power here.

Phil visits Pac and Richarlyson in jail.

* Pac's quote here is a direct reference to Fuga Impossivel, where Cell (Cellbit) had a cellphone he used to threaten people with his "contacts from the outside." (In reality, the phone had no signal, but that's how he earned his name "Cell")

[Full Transcript ↓ ]

—

Pac: Richarlyson feeling a little bit sad 'because 'cus he's locked up, you know? That's why he's using a different kind of hat.

Phil: Oh, Jesus Christ. Wait– why's Richarlyson's [happiness] bar gone down?

Pac:Yeah, 'because 'cus he's unhappy, 'cus, well, we kind of like, got locked up, and it's his birthday today, and he's feeling a little bit sad about like, growing up, you know?

Phil: Is that why he's got a different cow head on?

Pac: Yeah, yeah, and to try to help him, I said, "Hey, let's do something fun, you know? Let's kidnap the baker!" And we are kind of like, locked up, and he's even sadder now, right? [Richarlyson shakes his head] Yeah, but look – jail is fun!

Phil: I can put my hand through the bars.

Pac: [Laughs] Can I ho– Please save us!

Phil: Do you miss human touch, Pac?

Pac: Yeah, I miss human touch.

Phil: I'm here for you. [Cracks up]

Pac: I miss human touch. Oh my god, a hand! Richas, you want to touch a hand? Touch uncle Phil hand. [Laughs]

Phil: Yeah, right here.

Pac: Touch it, Richas! Connect with every–

Phil: I can get you out, I can get you out, I don't know if I'll get punished though, but we'll see. [Laughs]

Pac: I don't think you're going to get punished. [He looks at Richarlyson] Right? [Richarlyson shakes his head, holding a camera] There's nothing wrong about setting two persons out of the jail.

Phil: Yeah, I feel like you've learned your lesson, right?

Pac: Yeah, I won't try to kidnap the baker.

Phil: Oh, Richarlyson wants you to take a photo of, like, hands touching, I think.

Pac: Oh. Ok, let me...

[They stand there, holding hands in silence until Richarlyson takes a photo, then they burst into laughter.]

Pac: Well, Richas, you wanna do the same? I can take a picture of you! I just need a paper. [Pac checks his inventory] ...I don't have any papers, if you have one?

Phil: [Still cracking up as he holds hands with Richarlyson]

Pac: I need the paper, Richarlyson!

Phil: I have paper, there you go.

Pac: Oh, thank you.

Phil: We can smuggle things into jail. [To Richarlyson] It's okay, mate.

Pac: Look! [Laughs and throws Phil the photo] Can you smuggle me a cellphone?* I know information is power here.

Phil: I can – hold on, let me see, let me see...

Pac: Maybe like a cellphone? Or maybe a gaming setup so me and Richarlyson could put some gaming in here, you know, so we can play games?

Phil: I can – I could just break you out. [Laughs] But it's up to you – do you want to be out?

Pac: Yeah, if – Richas, you want to get out of this prison? I know it's bigger and better than our house. Look at the size of this, Phil! You wanna, like–

[Richarlyson breaks the jail bars and lets himself out, then replaces the bars to keep Pac inside]

Phil: [Dying]

Pac: ALL ALONG? Wait – we have been in here for the past 15 minutes, Richas! Oh my god. Ok, ok, I'm done, I'm done. I'm just gonna stay here. I'm just gonna stay here. [Pac walks to a corner of the cell and sits down facing the wall]

Phil: [Still wheeze-laughing] Dude...

Pac: I'm just gonna stay here.

Phil: I can't– [wheezes] I can't break these blocks, he's locked us in!

Pac: RICHARLYSON–

[gay-episode]

"Mike is a jerk after season 2!"

Correction: Mike is a teenaged boy who can't figure himself or his feelings out because unlike most teenagers he's been fighting monsters and watching his loved ones get relentlessly tortured before his very eyes and he doesn't have time to figure out how his own mind works because he's still likely not found a way to cope with everything else. Hope this helps!! 💕

[storiesofaot]

Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?

Can the child within my heart rise above?

Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life

Landslide ~ Fleetwood Mac 🌾

Every time I think about how much Hange changed, from being giddy and full of life and happiness in season 1 to being quite serious, sad and overwhelmed in season 4, my heart breaks a little bit more. 🥺

[vampiregirl58]

if you cant handle mike in his s3-4 era you cant have him in his s1-2 era.

[http-byler]

platonic wheelclair doodle request from instagram <3

[riahlynn101]

Whumptober 2024: Day Four - "You're Still Alive in My Head."

Trigger warnings: Implied/reference murder and kidnapping

Fandom: FNAF Movie

Word count: 1,522

--

After his brother’s murderer was killed, Mike found himself happier. The weight of failing Garrett was still there, ever-present due to his own part in his little brother being taken. But it was easier to interact with people. To hold down jobs. 

Vanessa remained in the hospital, thankfully now awake, but still traumatized by what went down at Freddy’s. She didn’t want Mike visiting her yet, at least not without Abby. Whenever she looked at him there was guilt clear as day in her eyes. He wished she didn’t look at him like that. He already got plenty of that from the adults growing up. That pity. 

And he knows it’s because she feels responsible for Garrett’s death, but Mike couldn’t blame her for that even if he tried. She had been a kid, not much older or younger than Mike himself, when Garrett went missing. 

But he refuses to push her, not wanting the precarious situation they’ve created to change. At least, through his sister’s over-enthusiastic attitude and obliviousness towards his and Vanessa’s awkwardness, they can interact like they used to. 

Mike shut the door of his sister’s bedroom. Abby is more willing to listen, but getting her to obey her bedtime was not happening anytime soon. It took stories upon stories to get her to acquiesce to sleep. 

He went to his own room. His new job, a paid intern position at a local construction company, worked him like a dog. But he didn’t mind, especially when the pay, even as an intern, was leagues better than anything he made as a security guard. 

He curled up in his bed. The Welcome to Nebraska sign had long been thrown out, crumpled and torn. He didn’t need it anymore. 

The one annoying thing about giving up his usual nighttime ritual of sleep medication, white noise, and staring up at the same poster for seven years straight, was trying to actually fall asleep. No matter how tired he was, trying to sleep felt like pulling teeth. His mind simply refused to shut off. 

But he did.

Eventually. 

Mike opens his eyes again to see the familiar forest he’s become well-acquainted with. The campground looked surprisingly empty, considering what he usually sees here. Or who ….

He wheels around, hoping the ghost kids that harassed him last time haven’t returned. The last thing he needs is another trip to the hospital. He’s still paying off the last bill, and no amount of empathizing with their plight would ever make Mike okay with being stabbed or slashed at. 

But when he turns around, they aren’t standing there. 

Mike wants to throw up. His stomach twists into a knot. 

Because standing in front of him, looking the exact same he did that day is….

“Garrett?” The words feel funny coming from his mouth. He feels disconnected from his body. 

“Mike!” His little brother cheers. He smiles big, showing off all his teeth. “You’re here!”

Mike can’t force himself to speak further. He looks around. This has to be a set-up, right? In all his years of having the same nightmare, his brother never spoke directly to him. And he partly blamed his own waning memories of Garrett for that. 

“What….what is this?” He asks. “What am I doing here?”

Garrett spins around, walking away from Mike. “I missed you,” he said. “Come play with me.”

It takes Mike a full minute to realize Garrett wants him to follow. He hurries after his brother, not wanting this moment to go to waste. This still doesn’t feel right, but he would be damned if he ruined this. 

The forest grows denser as they walk, and Mike has to push between bunches of pine tree bristles to find where his brother went. They stop in the middle of a clearing, encircled by trees.

Mike smiles fondly. He remembers this place, albeit extremely vaguely. Squeezing his eyes shut, he can almost visualize finding this place with Garrett a few days before he….

They stayed in here all day. At one point, they fell asleep and woke up just after sundown. Their parents hadn’t been happy with them. Mike smiles at the bittersweet memory. They almost cut their camping trip short.

He frowns. 

“Mike,” Garrett starts, voice echoing from behind him. Mike whirls around. “Do you miss me?” There’s something wrong with the way he emphasizes that. All the alarm bells have long since started going off in Mike’s head. But acting on the perceived urgency of the situation would mean running away or hurting his brother in some way, and he can’t force himself to do that. 

“Yes,” Mike mutters, tone softer. Exactly like the one he uses with Abby when she’s scared of something. He bends down a little. One advantage of barely growing height-wise between twelve and now is that it’s one less thing that hasn’t changed (for either of them). “Of course I do.”

Garrett walks a wide circle around Mike, looking him up and down. His face is impassive, unreadable to an unfamiliar degree. Even that one ghost kid, the blond one that kidnapped his sister, didn’t look so blank and non expressive. The fact that this is his brother, who used to be so full of enthusiasm and excitement, worries Mike more. 

Though, Mike supposes, if he were kidnapped, murdered, and maybe (hopefully not) trapped somewhere for over a decade, he too would be a mess (well, more of a mess). 

He stops in front of Mike. “No you don’t. You stopped trying to find me.”

“I-”

“You stopped looking for me.”

Mike stammers, “I-I…no. I didn’t know-”

“You gave up on me,” Garrett insists. “Abandoned me.”

Years worth of frustration and resentment at the situation boiled in his chest. Mike grits his teeth. “No. No. No! I didn’t! I wouldn’t.”

“Liar!” His brother shouted, sounding every bit as helpless as Mike felt. And isn’t that great? Here he was, almost a decade-and-a-half older, a full adult, and he still couldn’t deal with this. 

His eyes burn with tears. Mike swallows down the lump in his throat. He can’t cry right now. Crying always made him feel weak, and crying in front of his brother won’t make him feel any better (it won’t. It can’t. He won’t allow it). 

“I…didn’t,” he says, voice cracking. He feels weak and feverish. He feels exactly like he did the moment he had to race back to their campsite to tell mom and dad what happened. Uncomprehending of anyone or anything besides the image of his brother’s confused face watching him from the back of the car. Legs shaking, barely holding him up.

He always tried really, really hard not to cry in front of people, but he remembers crying a lot that day and a lot of the days following. His mom and dad were stuck in their own grief, so he forgives them for not being there for him. But for at least a year following Garrett’s kidnapping, all Mike could do was cry until he couldn’t anymore. 

“Why? Why did you forget about me?” 

Mike couldn’t bring himself to look at Garrett. He already knows his brother’s looking at him, expecting a reaction. Maybe they’re alike in that small way, needing outside validation from someone that has a hard time showing it. 

Mike chokes back a sob. He doesn’t want to be here anymore. He left this all behind when he escaped Freddy’s. Being here hurts too much.  

“I’m…sorry. I never wanted to. I didn’t want to leave you behind, but I couldn’t stay in the past.” Both for his own sanity, for Abby’s sake, and because for the first time in years, he got a taste of closure and just wanted to rest.  “I wanted to keep you with me.”

“You stopped visiting me,” his brother says in an accusatory voice. Like Mike consciously chose to leave the one good part of his never-ending nightmare behind. 

He still can’t bring himself to look at Garrett. 

“I didn’t want to be here. Not after….” he trails off. While revisiting the same place every night was painful, after so many years this place became a comfort to him. But then it turned against him. His mom…and his dad….and Garrett…

He finally looks at him. “You…you let them hurt me,” he realizes. “You didn’t try to stop them from taking Abby.”

Something flashes in Garrett’s eyes. Mike might call it guilt or regret, but it’s gone before he can really place it.

“I had to,” Garrett says. “You know that.” He grabs Mike’s arm. The suddenness of the action and the lingering memory of being attacked by feral ghost children startles him enough to pull away.

Mike instantly feels bad, but his brother has already pulled away. 

The scenery around them starts to blur - a surefire sign Mike is about to wake up. Before he can stop himself, he hurries to find the right words to comfort his brother. 

“You’re still alive in my head. I think about you all the time, and I never stopped missing-”

Mike wakes up in his bed, drenched in cold sweat.

[theultimatedilflover]

Thinking about how short it would take to make art cum.

30 years old this man’s lasting 5 minutes TOPS. He can’t help it. He just loves you so much.

[elephantshoetoo]

💙💛💚

Hello fellow Bylers!

Because I care about Byler a normal amount (I swear!) I wrote the fanfic "The Byler Files" for my daughter, who is equally obsessed with Will and Mike from Stranger Things and needed to see them get their "crazy together" happy ending. Hopefully, we'll all get to see the real thing next year when season 5 comes out (pun intended), but who can wait that long?

Please check it out if you also love Byler, and leave kudos and comments -- the feedback means a lot to me.

(Fanfic writers get paid in compliments.😊)

Love,

Byler Mom

💙💛💚

*If you follow my daughter, @pinksmonkey you've probably seen her posts about this already.

*This fan art, "Castle Byler," is also drawn by me specifically for the fanfic, and available at RedBubble under the username ElephantShoe.

*link to my fan art:

[kennahjune]

Allow Me to Propose Something:

How about, instead of his parents forcing him, Steve actually just? Likes? Sports?

No parental forcing or peer pressure just— he like sports. He likes swimming and basketball and maybe soccer and track.

Steve just liking sports because he’s allowed to have his own interests outside of the Party and older kids.

I always see Steve changing how he dresses and changing his music interests and all this other bullshit in Steddie fics and you know what?

Fuck that.

Steve dragging Eddie to every one of Lucas’ basketball games. Steve watching football and soccer and basketball games with Lucas and Wayne and Eddie silently watching with them because Steve is happy and Wayne is happy and hell— Lucas is happy, so why the fuck not?

Dustin and Mike still being skeptical of Lucas joining the basketball team post-Vecna (especially with Jason now dead and what Andy did to Erica and Lucas’ new ties to Eddie and—) but both of them finally realizing that sports brings just as much joy to Lucas as DnD does. And that’s honestly more than enough.

Steve still wearing his polos and blue jeans and clean white sneakers because that’s his style and how he’s comfortable.

Steve still listening to Wham! and Queen and ABBA and all his other musical interests cause that’s what he likes to listen to and that’s what he finds pleasing to his ear.

Steve having his own interests because he’s his own person and he’s allowed to have his own personality.

Because frankly— fics where Steve changes entirely so he can date Eddie make me really sad.