Random OneShots

'Cause all you wanna do

By: aaliyah_rose_black on Ao3

Byler

~~~~

Mike remembers everything so clearly. He was twelve, and it was the summer before seventh grade. It was late at night, around 10:50, and he was lying in his bed when his bedroom door opened and heavy footsteps patted on his floor. He laid still as a statue, and someone sat extremely close to him on the bed. He could smell the alcohol on the person's breath, and he remembered the extremely confused and hurt feelings he felt as the person touched him in places he never wanted to be touched. He tried to cry out, for his mom, his dad, Nancy, but the man just slammed his huge palm over his mouth, whispering that he would kill him if he so much spoke. Mike then laid there in fear, his whole body aching and feeling fat tears roll down his cheeks and onto his pillow, whimpers escaping his lips.

It happened several times after that.

The man was an old college friend of his mom's. He was visiting in town to see his parents, and he was staying with them for a week. He would sneak into his room around the same time every night, and do the same thing. Ever since then, if Mike heard so much a creak in the hallway at near or after 10:50, it would send him into a panic.

It was Will who noticed that something was wrong. His best friend noticed how Mike would flinch at loud and unexpected noises, his eyes widening with fear and panic if someone touched him on the shoulder to get his attention, most specifically if it was his mom or Jonathan. So, one day when he had come over to the Byers house one afternoon, Will pulled him into his bedroom.

"Okay, something's wrong," he started.

"Nothing's wrong, Will," Mike replied, fiddling with his fingers, a habit that he had whenever he got nervous.

"No, something is," Will argued back. "You've been acting weird for a whole week, Mike. You flinch at every loud noise, and I always hear you whimpering in your sleep at sleepovers, so, please, Mikey, tell me what's wrong!"

After he finished his rant, he looked at his best friend; whose's face was pale, and his eyes were wide. Then, in the blink of an eye, he started crying. No, not small sniffles, but sobbing. Loud, ugly sobbing, and he fell to the floor at the force of it. Worry filled him to the core, and he gently knelt beside his best friend.

"Mike, Mike, what's happened?" Will asked gently. Mike looked up, with bloodshot eyes and tear tracks on his face.

"I'm sorry, Willie, I'm so sorry," he sobbed quietly, before swallowing thickly and rubbing his eyes, "my mom's friend was over last week, and he was sta-staying with us, and every night, he would come in and he-" he let out another sob.

"He what, Mikey?" Will found himself asking, even though he slightly already knew the answer.

Mike looked back up, his expression miserable and full of genuine despair, "he-he touched me, Will. And it hurt. It hurt so bad." He broke down in another fit of sobs and without thinking, Will wrapped his best friend in a hug. And to his surprise, Mike didn't flinch back, he hugged back desperately, sobbing into Will's shirt. He rubbed his back gently and ran a hand through his hair, just like his mom did whenever he was upset.

"It's not your fault, Mike, that man is a complete asshole," he whispered as he gently rocked his best friend back and forth, his sobs gradually decreasing along with his shaking. Mike snorted slightly. "What?"

"I've never heard you swear," he whispered back.

"I guess Dustin's rubbing off on me," Will joked and Mike laughed slightly, pulling back to rub his eyes.

A few weeks later, when Mike felt like he couldn't take it anymore. He told his parents and Nancy what had happened, begging them to the point of crying for them to believe him. His dad rolled his eyes and kicked him in the ribs, telling him to stop lying and to stop crying. His mom looked like she wanted to believe him, but she sided with his dad anyway, like she always did. Mike then looked at his older sister, tears running like a river down his face, eyes begging, and pleading. She looked conflicted, biting her lip and looking down at the floor before walking out of the living room and upstairs, slamming her bedroom door shut. He cried himself to sleep that night, waking up several times because of nightmares.