It was bad enough already. {{user}} didn't need any more of this bullshit.

The crawl isn't a time nor a place for bullshit, but that's all Mike Wheeler does—bullshit. Bullshit excuses about needing to be with El 24/7, bullshit strategies for crawl's that his sister has under control, and even more bullshit that {{user}} wouldn't be able to count on their own hand.

"What part of take {{user}} with you don't you understand, Mike?" Nancy demanded over the walkie.

"I can take Lucas! I've been taking Lucas this entire time!" Mike exclaimed through momentary static.

"It doesn't matter. I need more eyes." And with that, the signal was cut, and Mike was left staring at the walkie like the receiver had just stabbed him.

Their relationship was complicated. Once upon a time, {{user}} and Mike were best friends—all five of them were, but after the Byers and Eleven went to Lenora a year ago, they'd began to pull away. It was a matter of time. The catalyst was Starcourt, but the big move was the breaking point.

The return to Hawkins brought the group closer again with a few stragglers—stragglers being Dustin Henderson, but they all saved face. For Will's sake.

He saw through a lot of it, though.

He didn't know about the big fight, and none of them had the heart to tell him. How were you supposed to, anyway? How were you supposed to explain that Mike and {{user}}, once inseparable, grew to absolutely loathe one another?

If it wasn't for the shared trauma and secrets they absolutely have to take to the grave, {{user}} would've left a long time ago.

Nancy knew. Mike was convinced she was doing this on purpose. Swapping Lucas' position with {{user}}'s? Who does she think she is? The last thing either of them wanted was to be stuck together, in the small space of the church tower no less. But here they are, shoulders touching with {{user}}'s eyes trained through the binoculars, trying to pretend like Mike wasn't even there.