Stranger Things One-shots (Requests Closed)

I'm just a little fairy

DangerGays2019

Will

Have you ever looked at a picture that no one likes at all, but you find it absolutely perfect? Ha, weird way to start a thought process. But, I've seen so many amazing things, horrifying things, but they're all beautiful in a sense. You know how? Because I don't know. I don't know anymore, really. It's always been hard, and once you spot the beauty of something, it'll last for a second. Then, gone. Completely gone, it turns back into the hellhole that it originally was. Because that's this world, for you. Always sucky, always harsh. The one second it's actually pretty, it disappears back into it's former oblivion. I hate that. Why can't it just stay pretty? For a moment, for a while... why does it have to suck?

I know, superbly deep. In fact, sensitive and poetic. But sitting here, in my room, permits me to think them. Poetry and sensitivity are pointless, they only "express how you feel."

God, I sound like my art teacher and english teacher combined. Depressing, really. I don't want to turn into them. They're both bad. Simple thoughts, simple thoughts, simple pictures, simple reality, simple, simple, simple. Black and white, always. Gray is irrelevant, because in the end, it's either one way, or the other. It either is good, or it freaking sucks.

Is it the end? No. But does it suck? Definitely. No doubt, one hundred percent. And before I start bitching to myself about how it could be worse, let me say this. I don't care about how it could be worse! It's already pretty bad, I don't want to think about it being worse. Because, then I'll feel guilty. Because people have bad lives. And I don't want to think like that. But that's what the Upside Down does, huh? Makes it worse, a whole lot worse. Negativity and fear, that's what the place generates on. It's perspective is pure gray. Didn't I just establish that it is either black and white?

So cold. So dark, scary. Cold, unyielding. Emotions meant nothing, because anything happy, it destroyed. Anything sad, or technically "negative," it fed on. But there were a few things that kept me running. My brother. My mom, and my friends. I love them all to death, but there was one person that wouldn't leave my goddamn mind, no matter how hard I tried to forget.

Mike. Such a dramatic realization, I know. But it's my truth, a secret. Mike was a huge thought that I had throughout that dreadful week, the fact that Mike would try to find me. Mike, Mike, Mike. He's... incredible, really. Creative, smart, funny, and one of the best of friends you could ever ask for...

Stop, Will! I bark at myself, distracting me from my butterfly event of thoughts. I realize that I have zoned out, glancing around at the room, for which it's dark. Very dark, no lights. It's personally nice to me, quiet, serene. I don't remember the previous hours, but that's normal. Short-term memory, I guess a symptom of what the doctors described as "PTSD," or "post traumatic stress disorder".

I don't like it. It makes the smallest of noises seem like the monster, it makes any flickering light that I see... I almost ran out of the class one day when we were having electrical problems. Laugh all you want, but it was absolutely terryifying. Nothing's normal, nothing is okay. That's why it's black and white. You're either okay, or you aren't.

I'm not.

Mike's the one to calm me down, he's always the most concerned for me. He's amazing, he's amazing to me and always nice. He sticks up for me... I'll never tell him that. Ever, I can't. I already know about the girl who saved me, Eleven, as Mike always makes goo-goo eyes at the sound of her name. Her numeric name. Also a look of loss, deep sadness. He liked her a lot.

He never even told me that. I can just tell. I like him enough to see that, to see that he truly cares about this girl, Eleven, who I wish I could meet. She sounds cool. But she's the one who got Mike first, but I was never even involved. Right? He would never like me like that, never. I'm his friend, and I have to accept that. Troy and James are right.

I'm a fairy. A little fairy who will eventually go to "fairy land," as they say. Is it nice in fairy land? It could be.

Ah, my thoughts keeping me from being productive. Again. It's funny, but as I stand up and feel a slight wave of nausea, laughing is not on my to-do list. I feel a bubble in my throat, and run to the bathroom, where a dark black slug falls out of my mouth, and crawls through the drain. I make a disdainful face at my palid and sickly-looking face, and start panting in fear. The walls are closing in, the walls are closing in... I can't see, my vision is too blurry and obscure to process what's going on. My nerves are on overdrive, as I feel a deep swell of cold burst into the bathroom. I grip the sides of the sink in terror, to feel squishy and moist vines, as cold specks fall on to my shoulder.

"Help!" I call, my voice catching within my throat. I can't see, I can't hear, I can't feel, only darkness and cold. So cold.

So cold.

"Will!" a voice rings throughout my thoughts, as hands grip my shoulders with a firm grasp. "Will, what's the matter?" the make voice calls, and I open my eyes. My eyes were shut, But I just open them. To reveal the normal bathroom, and a person in front of me, inches from my face.

Mike.

Still in a frantic state, I start hyperventilating uncontrollably. How much did he see? I looked like an idiot, most likely. I had a freaking breakdown in front of my crush.

How fucking amazing. "Will?" Mike asks me, in a soft tone. He looks at me, his warm brown eyes shining with sympathy and worry. "I-I'm fine, Mike," I manage to make out, staring at him, still breathing deeply. "Will, you were screaming, and there was a crash! What happened?" he inquires, wrapping his arms around me. It's warm, it's secure.

I like it. "I-I just... it's nothing, really." I try to assure him, But he pulls away and gives me a serious look. "You're mom told me You were in your room. When you weren't there, I waited, until I heard you scream. That isn't funny, you don't just scream in the bathroom for no reason." he contradicts, still giving me the firm look. "I'm not okay, there's something wrong with me, I'm sick, Mike! I'm not okay, I had a fucking breakdown in the bathroom! It got me, but you saved me. You, you, fucking you! Always you. Why you?"

I basically start freaking out, his face turns into a look of confusion and hurt. "Will, I didn't mean to, I thought you got hurt, what actually happened? What got you?"

I feel somewhat mesmerized by his face, and just him. Mike's someone that I love, a lot. I couldn't lose him, and he's worried about me. Well, I did freak out in a bathroom, but a rush of cold seeps into my veins. I shake my head. "Not again," I whisper, looking around to see my vision fading, fading, fading...

I feel something against my lips, a soft barrier, almost instantly. My vision snaps back to normal, as my body feels an explosion of utter warmth. It's Mike.

He's kissing me. Mike Wheeler, the guy that I like so much, is kissing me.

And I enjoy it. My fears melt away, in this exact moment of complete bliss. He pulls away, and looks at the ground. His pale face erupts into a deep crimson, smiling slightly. My look of astonishment melts into a long smile.

"Uh... I'm sorry, Will, I didn't-" I cut him off by pulling him into a hug. He, luckily, hugs back. "Thanks, Mike. But I have something to tell you. I... kinda... like you." I whisper, and I feel him laugh. "I kinda like you too." he mutters back, and I pull away slightly, just to look back at his face. "I guess the mouth breathers were right. I'm just a little fairy." I say, with a small laugh.

"That's okay, I guess I am too. But fairies are some of the most powerful creatures in Dungeons and Dragons. Their charisma ratings are through the roof." he chuckles.

"Yeah."