I've Already Told You Everything // Stranger Things

If I Could Buy Forever at a Price

Sunday morning; and Mike didn't get out of bed. His curtains drawn closed, blocking out any of the purifying light trying to make its way to him. He faces away from the window with the blankets pulled up to his ears. His eyes stay open, with a perpetual wetness to them. His bones ached and creaked when he moved, so he didn't. He kept thinking about Nancy, and his job. But he also thought about Eleven, and how much he needed her right now. It was almost like she heard him, because a soft knock filled Mikes ears. He didn't say anything, but she entered anyway. She shut the door and swiftly glided over to Mike. She stood with her hands behind her back, afraid to say anything. She gulped.

"Hey Mike," Still no reaction. "I don't want to seem insensitive,"

Nothing.

"But...I don't think you should cope like this." He shrugged, clearing his throat.

"I know," his voice was hoarse and raspy. "What else am I supposed to do?" His voice cracked. He was going to cry again. Eleven pouted and sat down on the bed. She slid herself under the covers with Mike. He rolled over to face her, and his cheeks were stained with tears. She smiled sympathetically and wiped his face. He smiled back.

"Take your mind off of things. We should go out and do something later." Her suggestion made Mike smile.

"When did you get so wise?" He said, barely above a whisper. She closed her eyes and thought for a moment.

"When I lost you," his face turned into tragedy; he couldn't bare to hear those words. "I had to learn. I had to stop being so ignorant to everything...I had to stop being such a baby." Mike reached out to touch her arm.

"You're smart. You've always been smart, and I know that."

"You're the only one who believed in me, Mike." They stared at each other, sharing a few blinks here and there. Eleven yawned and scooted closer to Mike. She cuddled up against his side and laid her head on his chest. At first, she could hear his heart racing at a rapid pace, But slowly it went back to a normal beat. She could hear her own heartbeat drumming at the same speed. She parted her lips to speak.

"You taught me what love is." And they fell asleep.

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Eleven hadn't touched her suitcase since she got to the Wheelers. She cracked open the hinges and unpacked its contents:

Pants, a shirt, dress, perfume, bracelet, a half drunken Pepsi, a gun.

Not much, but it didn't matter. She would live off of Mikes clothes until she got money some how.

She slipped on the dress and was dissatisfied with the look. It was plain—black with a sheer fabric across the collar bone area. It was tight fitted around her body, but that's because it was too small. It truly was the only thing she had. She was nervous to present herself to Mike, because she feared he would think she's over dressing. She trudged outside, where Mike was waiting. He leaned up against the car swinging the keys around his index finger. Elevens stomach flipped when she saw him; he looks so handsome. So...grown up.

"You look beautiful." Eleven shied away cutely and tucked hair behind her ear.

"Where are we going?" Mike cocked his head to the side in thought.

"Get in. I've got an idea."

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They drove all the way down to Indianapolis. Eleven watched the buildings go by in awe. Mike figured from this reaction, she had never been to the city before. They passed a building that caught her eye.

"Hey what's that?" She pressed her finger against the glass. Her breath could be seen on the window.

"That's the speedway," she turned to face him while he drove. "We should go some time, to see a race." She bounced in her seat with excitement. They parked right outside a small town house. Except, it wasn't a home. Paintings hung in the windows and a neon sign lit up the door way.

"Art gallery." Eleven whispered to herself. When they entered the building, canvases upon canvases are stacked on top of each other, it it was silent. The only noise was the faint buzzing of the neon light in the door. A man rushed out of the back room, but Eleven recognized this face.

"Lucas?" His eyes went wide. He nearly dove over the front counter to hug her.

"Oh my god, how are you?" She laughed loudly and hit him playfully on the arm.

"I'm absolutely fantastic!" Mike smiled wide.
"Are these all yours?" Lucas nodded his head. He stood in his own vanity; very proud of his work.

While Eleven sifted through Lucas' paintings, Mike chatted with him to the side. Eleven picked up a fairly large canvas and turned it around. She audibly gasped loud enough for Mike to hear. He walked over to her and placed his hand on her upper back. Her eyes filled with tears, but they were happy tears. She showed the painting to Mike and now he knew why she was crying. It was a picture of a flower—like the ones Eleven would draw for Mike years ago. The background was a blue-green color.

"Mike," she clutched the painting to her chest. "We have to get this." She pleaded with her eyes. Mike couldn't say no; he didn't want to say no. They turned to face Lucas.

"How much do you want for—" Lucas stopped Mike.

"It's all yours. Don't worry about it." Lucas grinned proudly at himself. Eleven bounced on her toes. She handed the painting to Mike, then ran up to Lucas to hug him. They stood there for a while, and Eleven couldn't stop thanking Lucas. As they exited the store, they waved their goodbyes and said thank you once more. Once they were seat belted in the car, eleven marveled at the painting in her lap. Just as she looked up, the neon sign had flickered before turning off completely.

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I told you I'd update.