In My Head This Is Mike’s Realization Scene:

in my head this is mike’s realization scene:

joyce and hop are engaged. it’s byers-hopper moving day, and the wheelers are helping them transfer everything from hop’s cabin and the byers’ moving van to the blended family’s new, more size-accommodating house in hawkins.

in the commotion, with everyone else on their way to bring a load to the new house, mike is able to get a private moment with el, sitting on her bed in the cabin.

the breakup is amicable. she leans her head on his shoulder and says, “thank you for saving my life in the woods, and bringing me to my new family.” she pauses. “and especially for not lying. about your feelings for me.”

mike gives a soft smile. “friends don’t lie.” he thinks for a moment. “so, friends?” he sticks his hand out playfully for a handshake, and el laughs, extending her hand, shaking his and then pulling him in for a hug. she smiles. “friends.”

they pull away from the hug and mike moves to stand up from her bed, so he can head out and give el some space, and go meet the others. but first, he remembers something, and sits back down.

“oh, el!” she looks at him, surprised at the urgency in his voice. “el, i totally forgot. thank you so much. for the painting.”

“the… painting?”

“yeah, the one, you know, that will painted. from you, for me. the one where you told him… what to draw? he gave it to me when we went to get you from NINA.”

“mike... i don’t understand. will was very secretive about his painting. he never told me what was on the painting or who it was for.”

“so you didn’t—never said anything about… me being the heart of the group?”

el shakes her head no, equally confused.

mike looks down at his shoes. there’s no way el could be lying, he thinks. she’s probably the most sincere person on the planet.

el senses how perplexed he is by her answer and elaborates. “remember, in my last letter to you? i told you that he was painting something and was keeping it private.” she took a breath. “i thought he was painting it for someone he…”

mike doesn’t hear the rest of her words because something has shifted and his ears are ringing and now it’s a perfect game of tetris inside him, mismatched pieces that were once clunking inside his chest now sliding together perfectly and releasing the immense pressure he’d no idea had been building.

everything falls into place perfectly and paints a picture that isn’t, can’t possibly be, real.

“el… i don’t…” mike swallows. “he told me that you asked him to paint it.”

el simply shakes her head and continues to let mike process verbally.

“i think he lied to me.”

“i’m sorry to hear that,” el frowns, heartfelt.

“it just doesn’t make sense. he draws me things all the time… or, he used to, before you guys moved to lenora. why wouldn’t he just tell me the painting is from—“

realization hits mike in the fucking throat.

i think there is someone he likes.

these past few months, she’s been so lost without you.

you make her feel like she’s not a mistake at all… like she’s better for being different.

so yeah, el needs you, mike. and she always will.

mike feels tears begin to prick at the corners of his eyes.

“he lied to me.” his breath is starting to come in sharply, like his body is struggling to adjust to the new homeostasis created by this information.

el looks out the window, thinking. she looks back at mike and shrugs. “that’s strange. will is a good friend. and friends don’t lie.”

mike sighs, trying to take deep breaths and not show el how distraught he is, his brain still catching up with what his heart, pounding violently against his ribcage, has already pieced together.

but el is perceptive as ever. “mike?”

he looks at el. she blinks at him, like she’s unsure if what she’s about to say will help at all, but she still wants to try.

el continues. “friends don’t lie. but max told me…”

mike is confused at what max has to do with this. “huh?”

“max told me that boyfriends do.”

mike’s eyes widen and an invisible force within him pulls him into a standing position.

“fuck,” he breathes.

“fuck?”

“fuck. fuck.” he turns toward el. “el, i’m sorry, i have to…”

“go to him. tell him i’ll be there in a few minutes with the last of my things.” she smiles, knowing.

mike storms out the door and toward his bike. it’s pouring rain but it couldn’t possibly matter less. he has to get to will right. fucking. now.