Work Text:
The idea of cleaning out his father’s office felt surreal. His father had never been a very present person. Sure, he had been there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and at school events — but his presence never really left a mark. In many ways, Ted Wheeler’s presence in a room could be easily overlooked.
But now Ted Wheeler was dead.
And his absence was more noticeable than ever. Mike hated it. He hated how much he missed hearing the sound of the TV playing the latest baseball game. He hated not hearing his father’s voice complaining about how the news was becoming more and more sensationalized.
Damn it — he even missed those stupid sports metaphors his dad used, the ones Mike never really understood.
His eyes grew wet at the thought. He blinked quickly, trying to get rid of the moisture. He tried to quiet his thoughts. He didn’t want to cry. He was tired of crying.
He leaned against the doorframe of his father’s office. Mom and Nancy were already inside, both holding cardboard boxes in their arms — but they were still empty. He figured neither of them had been able to start packing anything yet.
Mike had never realized how his father’s office was the only place in the house that truly reflected his presence. The bookshelf by the wall was crammed with books, completely disorganized — no order by author, size, or theme. Amid all the chaos, what caught his eye was how, right next to a massive encyclopedia about airplanes, there was a worn-out copy of The Lord of the Rings. Mike had forgotten that his father, like him, had enjoyed Tolkien’s books.
The desk wasn’t much neater — blank sheets and work reports were scattered across it — though, surprisingly, the space around the old typewriter was clean.
A trembling sigh escaped him, loud enough to make both his mother and Nancy startle and turn toward him. Their eyes were glassy with tears, but only Mom had tears already trailing down her cheeks.
Mike swallowed hard, nervously.
“Shall we start?”
He hated being the one to say it, but they’d been putting it off all week. And the moving truck was coming tomorrow. Another shaky breath slipped from his chest at the thought. Hawkins was the only place Mike had ever lived, and even with everything that had happened with the Upside Down, leaving home didn’t feel right.
“The home where Dad died…” The thought slipped into his mind, and Mike tried to block it the instant it appeared. But it was useless. The tears began to well up in his eyes, and this time, nothing could stop them. He quickly wiped away the ones already running down his cheeks.
He could feel Mom hugging him tightly, but Mike could do nothing but hold on to her and sob.
“It’s not fair,” he thought.
He felt Nancy hug him too, and a choked sob burst from his chest, like water breaking through a dam.
“It’s not fair…”