Mike wheeler one-shots

Mike Wheeler Needs Therapy (And Gets It!)

ALL CREDITS TO: hellabifurious
SUMMARY: When Dr. Owens informed Mike that the government would be providing free, confidential counseling to the whole Party as part of the (latest) NDA settlement, he refused outright. In hindsight, he should've known Hopper would make him.

TW:PTSD,ANXIETY

When Dr. Owens informed Mike that the government would be providing free, confidential counseling to the whole Party as part of the (latest) NDA settlement, he refused outright.

He'd seen psychiatrists in movies. He knew what they were like: old, balding men who frowned a lot and scribbled on clipboards. Their patients had to lay down on what looked like very uncomfortable couches while the doctor described their afflictions in a very grave tone. He was all for squeezing the stupid government's hush money for all that it was worth, but he didn't need to spend an hour a week with some nasty old shrink just to be told he's crazy.

That's what he told Dr. Owens, who'd just sighed and made a note on his clipboard. (Damn it, those stupid clipboards. What were they writing all the time?) Owens didn't press the issue, though, thank god. He just told Mike that the Chief might be giving him a call in a few days, and to let him know if he changed his mind.

Mike should've known Hopper would make him.

"I'm not making you do anything, son," he'd said, and Mike could picture his surly frown over the phone. And when Hopper sighed, he could imagine Joyce shooting a stern across the room.

"Look," he said, in a lower tone, "Owens told me I ought to try this therapy stuff back in '83. He tried tellin' me again in '84. Hell, the guys at the V.A. told me I should do it when I first got back from 'Nam. But I put it off because I thought I could handle it myself— like a man, right?"

"Right," Mike replied automatically.

"But El, she— she was nervous about doing it, so I told her I'd try it first, tell her what it was like, y'know? So I've been doing it these last few weeks," he said. "Just an hour, Mondays and Fridays. And honestly, kid? It's not so bad. Not bad at all.

"I know you're like me, not one for the touchy-feely, mushy-gushy stuff. But the doctors, they're not there to judge you. You don't have to talk about anything you don't want to. It's just a lot that we've all been through, and we've had to keep it all hushed-up for all these years. I gotta admit that it's sorta nice to talk about some of it with. I don't feel like less of a man for it. It takes a load off my shoulders, and without that load, I can come home and be better for my family. For El, and Joyce, and the boys. It helps me."

Mike let his eyes flutter shut and leaned his head against the wall. He held the phone away from his face to exhale shakily, then pulled it back towards his face.

"You think it could help me, too?" He asked.

The Chief didn't hesitate.

"I do," he said. "And I know for a fact that it ain't gonna hurt."

Mike chewed on his lip, and swallowed a groan. Hopper had an unsettling ability to see through him better than just about everybody else, save Will or El. And Mike hated letting him win. But, even if he'd die before admitting it, the Chief was usually right.