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Here's a (very sad) Mileven fanifc I originally posted on AO3. I thought I'd post it here too. I apologise in advance.

I have no regrets

Mike Wheeler was actually a fun-loving young man, at least when his friends and his girlfriend, the most beautiful telekinetic girl in the world, El, were around him. However, when he was alone, he often lapsed into hours of thinking, brooding, silence. He had experienced so much crap in his young life that it was sometimes hard to cope with the whole load. So he would often sit for hours down in his basement, at the little square table where he and his friends so often played "Dungeons and Dragons" in childhood days, and contemplate. Or pondering new campaigns he could write as Dungeon Master. It was an escape valve to let out his accumulated experiences from the past, experiences he couldn't share with anyone else except his close friends and his girlfriend. So he packed it all into his campaigns, which he wrote with heart and passion, and if anyone not involved in the paranormal events were to read his notes, which he wrote down in a small scrapbook, they would merely marvel at this young man's rampant imagination. But these days the notebook rested on the table, beginning to gather dust, and when Mike sat at the little table, his cheeks wet with tears, absorbed in his thoughts, angry, sad at his fate, he sometimes stroked the cover of the little notebook with his long fingers, yearning for the old days when he might have to fight interdimensional monsters but not have to deal with something like this.

He received the diagnosis three months earlier. Pancreatic head carcinoma. At his age. The absolute 5-year survival rate was 8%, he was told. Mike's world completely fell apart, his mother became depressed, his father acted coldly towards him because he didn't know how to deal with his only son's illness. His sisters couldn't believe it and were devastated. And Mike? He began to mope, became depressed himself, struggled with himself and his life. El had broken down when she learned of her beloved Mike's diagnosis and Hopper and Joyce could not for the life of them calm her down. She was on the floor, screaming, crying, kicking, not wanting to be calmed, covering her ears as she screamed, screamed about how unfair life is, how unfair it is that it had to hit her beloved Mike of all people. Mike himself was the one who managed to calm her down, he whose world had just been turned upside down with this diagnosis. But he was always the one who managed to get through to El, no matter how bad the nightmares, the flashbacks or even the current events were, even when he actually felt like breaking down himself. He did. He broke down. Mike sank to the floor with her, a trembling, sobbing heap of misery, and the two of them wrapped themselves in each other's embrace, holding on tightly because otherwise they would fall apart. They held each other tightly, exchanging desperate kisses and touches, screaming and crying. In the evening, they collapsed together on Mike's bed and fell into an absolutely restless sleep, which gave them nightmares that made them wake up in a cold sweat at night.

Mike had to start high-dose chemotherapy immediately, which used up almost the entire Wheelers' budget and ultimately brought nothing but leaden fatigue, hair loss and constant nausea. Mike had never thrown up so much in his entire life as he did at this time. It was absolutely horrendous. He had to swallow about thirty-five pills every day, morning, noon, night. He lost a lot of weight, became pale, paler than usual, there were dark shadows under his eyes, his hair began to fall out. Whenever El stroked her hand through his otherwise full and fluffy hair, something she loved so much, she had bunches in her fingers afterwards. Each time she burst into tears and it was up to Mike to cheer her up. "Hey, let's look on the bright side," he said then, "this way I don't have to use so much shampoo and I can be a bit kinder to the environment." El slapped him gently on his forearm and, sobbing, she brought out, "M-mouthbreather..." Mike grinned at her, took her in his arms, and covered her, his precious El, with countless kisses.

One afternoon they shaved off his hair together with his father's clippers. El had refused at first, crying and sobbing, but Mike explained that he was tired of waking up every morning to find a huge bunch of his hair on the pillow. Reluctantly, El had finally agreed and, in tears, shaved off his hair. Mike sat, a towel over his shoulders, in front of the mirror in the basement bathroom and watched his hair trickle off his head. With each tuft, his heart sank a little more. It hurt, but it was better that way. Afterwards, El put one hand over her mouth, looked at Mike out of watery eyes, and carefully, oh so carefully, reached out her other hand to place it on his bald head. Mike closed his eyes as her hand touched his scalp and let the tears that had formed in the corners of his eyes flow. El sat down on his lap, took his head in her hands and breathed countless kisses on his now bald skull. "I love you, I love you so much," she whispered as sobs and hiccups wracked her body. Mike wrapped his arms around El and held her close, inhaling her scent. "I love you even more, El," he breathed back.

El was always there when he had to go to chemotherapy, held his hand, wiped away his tears when he couldn't hold them back, helped him when he threw up. She loved him so much after all. But Mike was not getting better, on the contrary. He was rapidly deteriorating, developing severe pains. At a check-up last week in the oncology department, Mike had been given bad news. Chemotherapy had not been able to stop the cancer, and an imaging scan had found metastases in the lungs and bones. Karen and Ted, who were accompanying their son, couldn't believe it, Karen collapsed and Ted had to catch her before she could hit the floor. Mike sat there, in front of the oncologist's table, staring at the computer scan of his body and the white spots that could be seen in his lungs and bones, feeling as if he was in a tunnel. Far away, he perceived the oncologist's voice. "We have the option of palliative chemotherapy coupled with effective pain management, Mr Wheeler." Absentmindedly, Mike nodded, unable to do more. There was a roaring in his ears and his thoughts wandered to his family, to his two sisters, to El, with whom he still wanted to experience so much. Boiling hot tears were now making their way down his cheeks and he heard himself asking, "How long do I have?" The oncologist's face contorted and his eyes grew sad. "Maybe a few weeks." Karen started sobbing uncontrollably, Ted talked calmly to her, trying his best to reassure her. Mike lowered his gaze into his lap and nodded as his vision blurred. Tears fell on his hands resting in his lap. Was he ready to let go? The stages of grief he had been going through since his diagnosis kept alternating, merging, sometimes overlapping. Denial After his diagnosis, Mike did not want to admit that something like this was happening to him, he denied his illness, could not come to terms with it. He was shocked, fell into a kind of rigidity, was numb. Anger Then anger took the place of shock. He was angry, at whom, he didn't know himself, but he wondered why it had to be him to whom something like this happened. He was just angry and it was hard for those who loved him to get through to him when he was in one of his moods again. Negotiation At this stage Mike tried to negotiate with himself, with the doctors, even with God. He was not ready to give up his life, wanted to somehow manage to get more time. Now, sitting here, opposite his oncologist, who had just told him that he probably only had a few weeks to live, a wave of depression suddenly burst over him, stronger and more powerful than anything that had gone before. He slumped down and began to cry terribly. He still wanted to experience so much, he wanted to graduate from college together with El and his best friends, he wanted to study, he wanted to start a family with El, marry her. All this now trickled through his fingers like fine sand and his heart began to shatter into a thousand little pieces in his chest.

When El learned that there was no chance of recovery for Mike, she felt so sick that she threw up violently on the spot and then she indeed fainted. Hopper and Joyce just couldn't believe how badly life was playing out for their daughter. She had traded the traumatic childhood she had escaped for a beautiful adolescence, with the love of her life by her side, and now that was going to be taken away from her too? For the next while, Mike and El were practically tied together at the hip, spending every spare minute together, always aware of the painful fact that it might be the last day. They lay in her bed, or in his, or in their old blanket fort in Mike's basement, which was El's first real home, wrapped in each other's loving embrace.

But Mike was getting weaker and weaker and soon it was barely possible for him to climb the stairs that led down to the basement or up to his room. At some point, his father, with Hopper's help, moved his large bed from his room on the first floor to the living room so that he no longer had to climb stairs. He was grateful to them. He could no longer walk long distances, had to take constant breaks. He would prefer to sleep all day, the fatigue that gnawed at him was leaden. Anything was fine with El as long as she could be with Mike, even if it meant lying in his bed in the Wheelers' living room.

Palliative chemotherapy, combined with proper pain and nausea management, gave Mike at least some relief and quality of life. It was carried out in the mornings as an outpatient treatment, so that Mike could still get something out of the day afterwards. He had to swallow about twenty pills every day, but he was happy to put up with that, because the pain caused by the metastases and the progressive illness was immense. The medication at least eased his pain and the nausea somewhat. El paused college to spend as much time as possible with Mike. Hopper was against it at first, but when El stood in front of him, in tears, sobbing unrestrainedly that she didn't know when Mike would be out of her life forever, his heart broke for good and he agreed. From then on, El practically lived with the Wheelers. She helped Karen as much as she could around the house, taking over the support Mike needed for the things he could no longer do himself. In the afternoons, the two of them usually went for a short walk to get some fresh air, even if it wasn't a long distance. Still, the physical activity did them good. Mike put on a cap so that it wouldn't be immediately obvious that he was deathly ill, but most of the neighbourhood knew what was going on anyway. But the last thing he wanted was pity. Fingers intertwined, he and El walked slowly down the street until they turned back at the corner up ahead because Mike was too exhausted to go any further. El almost went crazy, because watching Mike deteriorate more and more hurt so much that sometimes she thought her heart would seriously shatter in her chest. She loved him so much. No matter how sick he was. No matter how weak he was, whether he had hair or not, to her he was the absolute most beautiful young man on the planet. She would always love him, she knew that. She didn't allow herself to think about what would happen if one day he was really gone. If she allowed that thought to sprout up inside her, she risked suffocating.

One night, as Mike and El lay in his bed in the Wheelers' living room, snuggled close together, but sleep just wouldn't come over them, she asked into the darkness, "If you had the chance to live your life over again, would you do anything differently?" "No... absolutely not..." El lifted her head, which was resting on Mike's chest, and looked at him, even though she could see almost nothing because of the darkness. Mike met her gaze. "I'd do everything the same way. I'd ask Will to be my friend in kindergarten, I'd befriend Lucas in elementary school, then Dustin. I'd find you in the woods when I am twelve, and, God, I'd take you back home with me, build you a shelter in the form of a blanket fort so you'd learn what safety and love are..." Tears welled up in El's eyes. "Oh, Mike..." "I love you so much El, I want you to know that. I'm so grateful that you came into my life. You made me a better person. I was a dick sometimes, was rude to Max then, didn't want her in our group, I was horrible to Will, Lucas and Dustin sometimes too. But you were the little splash of colour that was missing to make my life colourful El, you showed me what it meant to love..." El started to cry now and let her forehead sink back onto Mike's chest. "You first showed me what love even is, Mike... I love you... I love you so much, and I'm so scared of the day you-" Mike silenced her by tenderly placing his hands against her cheeks, bringing her face to him and kissing her deeply. El fell instantly silent, closed her eyes and returned the kiss by half opening her mouth and their lips moving together. "I love you... so much," Mike breathed, not releasing his lips from El's. He pulled her on himself so that she was half on top of him and kissed her as his hands trailed along her body. El shuddered under his touch and cupped his face with her hands, tilting her head a little so they could deepen their needy kisses. She propped her legs up on the right and left of his body so that she wasn't resting her full weight on him, and Mike began to trace her jawline with his lips, then her neck and earlobe, which he nibbled lightly as he pressed her to him with one arm. A pleasant shiver ran down El's spine and she let out a soft moan, which sounded like music to Mike's ears. The two looked into each other's eyes for a long time in the darkness, ebony and honey, before slipping out of their clothes, El helping Mike out of his shirt, and then they gave themselves to each other, making love under the cover of the night and the fact that everyone else in the house was fast asleep. They tried hard to be quiet and took it slow so Mike wouldn't overexert himself. It may not have been as passionate as usual, but still so so beautiful and precious, this moment belonged to just the two of them, leaning their foreheads against each other, breathing the same air, heartbeats in sync, holding each other close. Later, when they were lying next to each other breathing heavily, El had rested her head on Mike's chest and was drawing circles on his skin with her index finger, Mike held El as close to him as he could for fear she might disappear. Yet it was he who was disappearing... Eventually Mike fell asleep, visibly exhausted and tired, while El lay awake for a while longer, crying silent tears on his chest.

When Mike woke up in the morning about two weeks later, he noticed that something had changed. He couldn't explain what, but he felt very different. El, who had just come in to the living room with a tray in her hands to eat breakfast in bed with him, as she did almost every morning, noticed that Mike was different. He looked even sicker than usual, his eyes were sunken, he was terribly pale and thin. She swallowed hard against the lump of unshed tears forming in her throat and went to join him. She set the tray down on the bedside table the Wheelers had placed next to the bed, where Mike's medication was stored, and sat down next to him on the edge of the bed. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed, his eyes fixed in the distance, not looking at her. "Mike..." El reached for his hand. He didn't pull it away, but he still wasn't looking at her. "Mike..." Her voice didn't get any louder, but it did get a little more desperate. At last he turned his head in her direction, his face contorting in pain. "Can you... can you please give me my pills, El?" he asked her quietly, in a voice that sounded unlike his. El nodded and reached for the pill dispenser on the bedside table. She handed it to Mike and gave him a glass of water. He swallowed his morning medication and then handed the glass and dispenser back to El. "Mike, what's wrong?" asked El in a low voice, reaching for his hand again. Mike shrugged his shoulders. "I... I don't know, El... I have a feeling... a feeling that..." He closed his long fingers around El's and now looked her straight in the eye. "Can you call your father and ask if he can... if he can do me one last favour?" El couldn't stop the desperate sob that bubbled up in her throat. "M-Mike..." "Please, El," Mike said softly, "I have more faith in Hopper than I do in my own father..." El nodded and blinked a few times, causing a few tears to run down her cheeks. Mike reached out his hand, trembling, placed it on her cheek and wiped away her tears with his thumb. Breakfast remained untouched on the bedside table.

When Hopper arrived at the Wheelers' half an hour later, he was startled to see Mike like this, but he tried not to let on in front of the boy. Instead, he pulled him into a hug, feeling like Mike was going to fall apart at any moment. "Chief," Mike greeted him and forced a weak smile. "Wheeler," Hopper replied in a choked voice. "I was thinking maybe you could take El and me... well, out to this lake I discovered once, you know, the beautiful little one, with the clear water, in the middle of the woods..." Hopper looked at him and tilted his head. Mike looked around to see if El was around, but she was in the kitchen with Karen. "I'd go myself, on a bike, like I used to," he spoke, shrugging his shoulders and gesturing down at himself, "but you can see for yourself what I look like. I don't think I'll be able to do that any more." Hopper's heart broke for the Wheeler boy. "Besides," Mike added quietly, his head lowered, "I have a feeling that today, I don't know, this day will be my last..." Hopper inhaled sharply and leaned a little towards Mike as he put his hand on his skinny shoulder. "Hey, kid, don't say that." Mike raised his head and looked Hopper straight in the eye. Hopper swallowed audibly. The boy was serious. His eyes were kind of dull, empty. "Okay," Hopper replied quietly, having to bite his tongue, "I'll drive you to the lake." Mike's expression brightened a little. "Thanks, Chief."

Mike said goodbye to his parents and sisters in tears, and no one understood why. He just wanted to go to the lake with El to have a nice day, didn't he? Holly, however, seemed to sense something. She clung to her big brother like a monkey and wouldn't let him go. "Mikey... don't go, please don't go." Mike had to avert his gaze to hide how distraught he was, but he finally managed to pull away from his little sister. Karen and Ted didn't understand the world anymore as Mike and El joined Hopper in the Chevrolet Blazer and drove off. They stood in the doorway with Holly, who was crying and raving. Nancy, on the other hand, had retreated to the living room and was now sitting on her brother's bed as she buried her face in her palms and cried softly.

The weather was kind to them and the sun was shining from the sky when they arrived at the woods after Mike had told Hop where to go. Hopper had driven as far as he could into the woods so Mike wouldn't have to walk too far, but eventually he couldn't get any further in his big blazer. El shouldered the backpack she had packed and got out of the car. Then she helped Mike out of the car and supported him. "I'll stick around," Hopper said tonelessly. "In case you... need me." Mike nodded gratefully and then he and El made their way to their little lake. It was still as beautiful as they remembered. A little jewel in the middle of a small clearing. Its water was as clear and pure as a diamond. How often they had been here in the summer holidays, just the two of them, and lain on the shore, gone swimming or had a picnic. All these beautiful memories suddenly flooded Mike and his heart became heavy in his chest. He was so weak that he could hardly walk and El had to support him the whole way. When they arrived at the shore, Mike immediately let himself sink into the warm grass. It was soft against his skin. El unpacked a blanket from her backpack, the large picnic blanket that was white and red checkered and on which they had already had numerous picnics. She spread it out gently on the grass and then helped Mike to lie down on it. She lay down with him, looked him in the eye and stroked his bald head. "Would you like to put your hat on?" Mike nodded and El rummaged in his backpack for Mike's cap. When she found it, she lowered herself back down beside him and put his cap on. They lay like that for a while, faces turned to each other, looking into each other's eyes. El had a hand on his cheek, gently stroking the many freckles that adorned his cheekbones and nose like constellations of the sky and that she loved so much. They were perfect, just like him. Mike's lips curled into a small smile when he saw the dreamy look in her eyes. "What are you thinking about, El?" "About how I love you and your freckles are the absolute most beautiful thing in this world, next to your eyes." She gave him a smile that revealed her dimples and Mike melted. Then she slid a little closer to him and kissed him on the forehead, then on the nose. Mike let his eyes fall shut and enjoyed her closeness. When El's lips found his, he placed a hand on her cheek and stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. They kissed long and intimately and when they broke away, Mike breathed, "I love you." "I love you, Mike Wheeler," El replied in a choked voice. Then she carefully laid her head in the crook of his neck, for it would hurt him too much on his chest, and Mike wrapped his arm around her and held her close. So they lay there, just wrapped in each other's embrace, letting time pass. Eventually they fell asleep, but not before El had neatly adjusted Mike's cap on his head so he wouldn't get sunburnt. The soft sounds of the forest and the lake around them lulled them and let them drift off to sleep.

El was jolted out of sleep by a coughing fit that overtook Mike in his sleep. She immediately sat upright and watched from frightened eyes as Mike's body began to twitch before he coughed violently and almost choked. He gasped once, opened his eyes, sat upright and put his hands over his mouth as the next coughing fit came over him. When he lowered his hands, there was blood in his palms. He tried to hide it, wanted to fumble in his trousers for a handkerchief, but El had seen it. She put her hands to her mouth and tears gathered in her eyes. Mike found a handkerchief and looked away, ashamed. "Oh, Mike..." "It's okay, El," Mike croaked, letting the handkerchief disappear back into his pocket. "What do you say we take our shoes off, and go in the water for a bit?" El seemed to consider. "I don't want you to catch cold, your immune system isn't the best..." Mike waved it off. "That's the least of our worries, El..." El suppressed a sob and was about to retort something, but Mike was already starting to take off his shoes. When they had both taken off their shoes, El helped Mike to his feet. She supported him as they slowly stepped onto the shore of the small lake. The lake lay there, glistening in the midday sun and just beautiful to look at. The rays of light from the sun hitting the lake through the surrounding treetops bathed the entire clearing in a beautiful, almost mysterious light. Mike intertwined his fingers with El's and the two of them carefully stepped into the clear water. As the water cascaded around their ankles, he squeezed her hand once and took a deep breath. "Oh, quite cold." El rolled her eyes playfully. "I told you. It's March." Mike grinned at her and went a little further in as he gently pulled El with him. "Okay, Mike, but no further, yeah?", El brought out, turning to face him. Mike nodded and wrapped his arms around El's delicate form. They gazed at the surface of the water, lost in thought. "Why are we here, Mike?" asked El at one point, not daring to look at Mike. Mike shrugged his shoulders. "Because this place brings back so many beautiful memories for me, memories I shared with you. I wanted to add one more memory before... before I-" "Mike, please stop..." "No, El... I have a feeling that this day here today... that it will be the last." If it hadn't been for El supporting Mike, she would have collapsed. She slumped her shoulders and began to sob bitterly. "N-no, this is not your last day, stop it Mike!" Mike sighed sadly and slumped his shoulders too. He could feel his strength fading. "Shall we head back to shore, El? I think I need to lie down." El nodded and through tears she brought Mike back to the picnic blanket where he lay down. El sat down cross-legged, resting her elbows on her knees, her face in her palms, and couldn't stop crying. Mike slid a little closer to her and rested his head in her lap. He looked up to her from tired eyes and El returned his gaze after wiping away her never-ending tears. Suddenly she understood that Mike meant it. His eyes were tired, heavy. He just looked terribly ill and exhausted. El's lower lip trembled and she carefully brought her hands to his cheeks. They looked into each other's eyes. "I love you so much," Mike brought out with difficulty and lifted his hand to bury it in her hair. "I-I love you too, Mike," El sobbed. "You know, I've realised one thing," Mike said softly, "I can't change anything now, and it's okay. Fate has decided for me. I didn't want to admit it at first, but what am I going to waste my precious energy fighting something I don't stand a chance against anyway..." A new wave of tears ran down El's cheeks, gathering at her chin and falling into Mike's face. "I wanted to come here to make one last good memory with the woman I've loved since I was fucking twelve years old." Mike chuckles softly to himself. "My God, six years we've been together, El... And I love you like the first day." El took off his cap, stroked his bald head and leaned down to kiss the tip of his nose. Mike continued, "I don't regret anything El, absolutely nothing. I would do it all over again just the same. I would love you no matter what life. And if this one is meant to end now, then... then that's okay too..." He closed his eyes and lowered the hand that was in El's hair. He was so exhausted. But he was in the lap of his beloved El, that was all that mattered. "I... love you..." His voice was weak, so weak. Suddenly even speaking hurt him. He took a deep, shaky breath, opened his eyes to look into her honey-coloured eyes once more. He tried to memorise every detail of her beautiful face. "I want you to know." "I know it, Mike," El whispered in a choked voice that was several pitches too high. "And I love you." "Good," he replied, his eyes falling shut again, "then I'm reassured..." He suddenly felt free. His pain was beginning to subside. Finally. After all this time of terrible pain, this felt like a release. He took a few deep breaths and began to let go. He simply had no more strength. When he had let go of everything that held him on earth, his parents, his sisters, his friends, he had to let go of the part that meant the most to him. El... His beloved El... It took a while and cost him all the willpower he had left, but then he let go of her too.

El sat on the picnic blanket, Mike's head in her lap, as he took his last breath. A tear ran down his temple from the corner of his left eye as he exhaled for the last time. El sobbed bitterly, crying and screaming as she laid her head back on her neck. Her scream was so bloodcurdling that the smooth surface of the lake made waves. She desperately caressed Mike's cheeks, speaking to him, but he stopped responding. "Mike... Please... Please don't do this to me... Please don't! PLEASE DON'T!" Her tears, coming out of her eyes like torrents, dripped onto Mike's face. El couldn't take it, she was close to a breakdown, she was trembling and her body was wracked from her sobs and hiccups. "DAAAAAAAD! HEEEEEELP!!!" The last thing she saw before she fainted was Hopper running across the clearing towards them.

#stranger things #stranger things tv #stranger things edit #mileven #mileven edit #mileven fanfiction #eleven #mike wheeler

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