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There was something almost tragic about the way the world seemed to move forward, even after Will’s body had been pulled from the quarry. Time didn't slow down, time didn't give anyone a break to mourn, to grieve.
Mike had been searching for Will, hoping to find his best friend, but never did. It had all been futile, because in the end, Will was dead, and there was nothing Mike could do to change that.
It was a sunny day, a complete contrast to the emotions weighing down on Mike as he sat on his basement couch, looking through the binder he'd safely kept all of Wil’s drawings.
There was nothing happy or joyful about today, nothing that could brighten his already foul mood, and yet Eleven still sat in her makeshift fort, fiddling with the radio.
The sound of static irritated Mike, why couldn't she just let him have some peace and quiet? Let him mourn in peace.
Just then, the basement door burst open, startling Mike out of his thoughts just in time to watch Carlton run down the stairs. He looked around Mike's basement, almost like he was seeing it for the first time, then his gaze finally landed on Mike, and the boy grinned. How could he grin? How could he be happy? Will was dead.
“Mike,” Carlton said, walking over to the couch and subsequently ignoring Eleven’s presence. “I know what’ll cheer you up!”
Mike frowned, gaze lowering back to the drawings he still held in his hands. “Nothing will,” he replied, almost bitterly. “Can't you just leave me alone?”
Carlton didn't look convinced, and grabbed Mike's wrist, “come on, I have a surprise for you upstairs.”
There was a small pause where Mike contemplated whether or not he should listen to Carlton, but in the end, he sighed, pushing Will’s drawings off his lap to stand up and let Carlton drag him up and out of the basement.
Eleven did not follow them, her focus on the radio in her hands.
Mike's mom wasn't in the kitchen for once, but he suspected she must've gone to go take Holly somewhere to cheer her up. Nothing about today could be considered bright, after all.
Carlton let go of Mike's wrist to walk over to the kitchen counter and pick up a tray; it had two glasses of milk and cookies.
“I'm not Santa Claus,” Mike retorted, an almost confused look on his face. “What’re those for?”
He was rudely ignored as Carlton walked past him and towards the living room, placing the tray on the coffee table and sitting down on the couch. Mike huffed, and since he really didn't have anything better to do, he followed and sat beside Carlton.
Mike had mixed feelings on the guy. Honestly, he doesn't even remember when Carlton had become a party member, it must've been a long time ago, though. There was never a point in Mike's life where he really pondered on the boys existence, but after seeing Will’s dead body, staring at Carlton now made him realise just how temporary human lives were.
Had they ever just hung out as friends? Mike couldn't remember. What was Carlton’s favourite colour? Green? Red? Blue? It was almost like he'd never known the boy in the first place, but Mike knew that wasn't true. He'd known Carlton almost as long as he'd known Will.
His gaze turned to watch Carlton’s side profile as the other leaned forward to grab a cookie and dunk it in milk, looking not at all bothered by the information they'd gathered yesterday, from what they'd seen yesterday at the quarry. Mike wished he could be that relaxed, that aloof. Carlton stared at a dead body and was completely fine afterwards? That felt like its own superpower.
“You're staring,” Carlton commented, taking a bite of his cookie and looking over at Mike, causing their eyes to meet. It was only for a brief second, however, before Mike looked away, suddenly embarrassed.
Why? He didn't know.
“I'm not,” Mike said quickly, grabbing his own cookie and taking a bite out of it. Chocolate chip, his favourite. “I'm not.”
Carlton just laughed, easy-going as ever, and shrugged, “it looked like staring to me.”
Mike huffed, feeling very warm for some reason. Nothing made sense. “No, I was just… thinking.”
“About Will?”
The question almost made Mike flinch, because he had been, hadn't he? In the basement, looking at Will’s drawings. That's all that had been on his mind: Will.
“Kind of,” he muttered, swallowing the last bits of his cookie before grabbing the glass of milk and holding it in his hands almost awkwardly. He stared at the white liquid, watching it ripple slightly from his movements, and then looked back at Carlton. “You saw his body, he's… I don't want to believe it.”
Carlton frowned, bringing his hand to Mike's shoulder, causing Mike to startle and blink, because why did the touch feel nice? Why did it feel… different? Nothing honestly made sense anymore.
“I'm sorry we couldn't find him, Mike.”
They weren't exactly words of comfort, heck, they didn't sound comforting at all, but when they'd left Carlton’s mouth, Mike found that they were comforting—in a way. Mike gave Carlton a simple shrug, averting his eyes, “it's okay. I... I'm okay.”
Carlton smiled at Mike, and the sight alone made weird sensations stir in Mike's gut, and he suddenly needed to do anything else to quell whatever feelings were rising unbidden and making his cheeks flush a rosy pink. He gripped the glass of milk he was still holding, then quickly brought it to his lips and drank it. The cold liquid did nothing to stop the weird feelings inside him, but it was a needed distraction.
There was a moment of silence between them, where Carlton stared at Mike, looking almost fond, or maybe Mike was just bad at reading people—but his eyes, something about them, felt like they were staring right at Mike's soul.
But… they were only twelve, a level of adoration so profound could never be on the face of someone so young. Mike didn't know what he was thinking, why his thoughts were spiraling. They were friends. Just friends. Why would they be anything more or less?
Thankfully, before any of them could open their mouths to speak, Eleven rushed out from the basement, radio still in her hand. She dashed over to Mike, and for a second he was confused, before the noise of the radio reached his ears, and he realised it wasn't just static anymore.
It was Will.