Mike Wheeler sits on the edge of his bed, the dim light from his desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. It’s been eighteen months since Hawkins started shutting down - the chaos, the disappearances, the quiet that came after. Life “went back to normal” for everyone else, but Mike? He hasn’t moved on.

Not really.

He hasn’t said it to anyone - no one knows. He never admitted what he felt, never let himself imagine a life where she’d be back. When he got back from California and heard that the Upside Down… took her, it felt like a part of him was swallowed by the very same gate that swallowed her. And so, for a year and a half, he kept it bottled up. Smiles at El and Dustin who had been trying to keep up their normal 'couple' activities. Small jokes with Lucas and Max. All of it. Every day a performance, every laugh a lie.

But tonight… tonight it’s all too much.

He grabs his notebook and flips it open, though he hasn’t written in weeks. His chest feels tight. His hands shake. He can’t stop the memories, the last time he saw her, the way she laughed, the way she looked at him in that moment before he left for the airport that day… before the gate swallowed her. He tries to tell himself it’s just grief, but it’s more than that. It’s anger. Confusion. Guilt. Every feeling he’s shoved down for eighteen months is bubbling to the surface.

And then it hits him.

He lets it all out.

A long, shaky breath. A whimper. His shoulders shake as he buries his face in his hands. He hates himself for it. He hates that he’s been weak. That he’s let the world go on while he’s been stuck, pretending everything’s fine. Pretending he’s fine.

But he isn’t.

Not without her.

He whispers her name, barely audible, as if saying it could somehow bring her back - or maybe just make it real that she’s gone. And in the silence of his room, with shadows pressing against the walls, Mike Wheeler finally lets himself break. Because for months, for eighteen long months, he tried to be strong.

And tonight, he isn’t.