not my end of the world - byler

II

"micheal, stop fucking pacing!" dustin exclaimed in an exasperated tone, throwing his hands up in frustration.

shaking his head, mike sat down on the couch in between dustin and lucas, his leg bouncing up and down anxiously. "i need to know he's okay! it was my fault he left the party!"

"joyce has already said he's okay," lucas commented. "just cool it, man."

...

"fine, i'm fine." the black-haired boy muttered, clenching his fists as he stared at the ground in thought. lucas and dustin glanced at eachother helplessly.

the two knew what was going on, but they didn't know what to do and how to help. and obviously, mike wasn't giving them much help. when did he ever? mike would only ever open up to will, and will wasn't here. mike's feelings bottle up extremely easy, everyone knew that. and once it's bottled up, there's no choice but to let it explode and let his screams and cries fill the silence of the rest of the party.

dustin and lucas hated when mike did this. they hated when mike yelled at them. mike never yelled at will. they understood how mike feels. hell, they've literally defeated a mind-monster from the upside-down!

"er, i think we should go." lucas muttered to dustin, glancing at mike before standing up. "we're gonna go to scoops ahoy, you wanna come?"

"just leave." mike replied, his voice dangerously low as he lifted his eyes to look between the two before him.

dustin nodded, grabbing lucas' hand and pulling him towards the stairs and out of the basement.

as soon as mike heard the door click shut, he shot up and grabbed the phone, quickly dialing the numbers he knew so well.

ring . . .

ring . . .

ring . . .

"hello, joyce byers-"

"joyce!" mike exclaimed.

"oh, mike." joyce's voice sounded remorseful. "how are you?"

"that doesn't matter. how's will? is he okay? can i see him yet?" he rambled, gripping the phone tightly.

a sigh sounded from the phone, and the sound of paper shuffling. "the doctors say he can be seen now, but-"

"great, thanks joyce!" he responded quickly, hanging up the phone. he started towards the stairs but turned around, his gaze lingering on the small box beneath the coffee table. he shook his head clear before running up the stairs.

mike slipped his shoes on and flung his door open, running out and hopping on his bike.

as he rode the bike down the street, the sky slowly darkened and clouded over. what was joyce trying to tell me? he shook the thought away. it couldn't be important. the only thing that mattered was will.

sorry this took a while🥲