A/N: First time writing Mike, I hope he's Mike enough!

Nancy marches from the police station to her house, indignation making her face burn.

Anxious? Her?

She scoffs.

This is all such bullshit.

And who the hell does he think he is, telling her to talk to someone?

Nancy doesn't want to talk.

She wants to destroy something.

She wants to feel safe.

She wants to not feel guilty anymore.

Talking won't give her a single thing she wants.

She enters her house in a huff, not bothering to say hello (like anyone cares). She takes off her coat and goes to the living room.

As she walks in, suddenly all the anger she's worked up since leaving Hopper's office seems to turn into fatigue. Her feet hurt, and her bones feel so heavy she can't hold herself up anymore. She sits on the sofa, leans her head on a pillow and closes her eyes. She can feel a headache coming on.

After several moments, she can hear Mike running up from the basement. He slows down as he approaches the sofa. Nancy ignores him.

"So?" he asks eagerly. "What did he say?

She sighs in annoyance.

"He said thanks," she mutters. "What else is he gonna say?"

Mike rolls his eyes.

"I mean, is she going to like it?"

"I have no idea."

"Well, what do you think?" he insists, for the thousandth time that week. Nancy starts massaging her temples.

"I don't know, Mike," she snaps. "You saw the stuff yourself, what do you think?"

Surprisingly, he doesn't bite back. Instead, he sits on the end of the couch and sighs.

"But that's just it," he begins quietly. "I don't know." He stares at the bookshelf on the opposite wall, looking troubled. "I have no idea what she likes. I don't even know what her favorite color is or anything. I don't know anything about her," he mumbles.

Nancy stares at her little brother, feeling her annoyance melt away into sadness.

He just misses her, she thinks. He just misses her so much.

"You can always ask her," she says gently. "At least now you get to see her occasionally."

Mike sighs again, looking at the floor.

"Yeah, but… I wish it was more than just occasionally."

Nancy leans towards him and puts a hand on his back (lately, she can hardly believe how tall he's become).

"It will be. You just have to give it time."

He huffs.

"I just don't understand," he says. "How can he still keep her locked up in that cabin? She's already spent twelve years trapped in that hellhole and now he's –"

Nancy clamps a hand over his mouth.

"Shut. Up," she whispers.

Everything slows down around her. The room seems quieter than usual.

Mike frowns and wiggles away.

"What's the matter with you?"

"What's the matter with you?" she hisses. "Someone could hear you!"

"I'm not an idiot, Nancy, mom's upstairs and dad's asleep –"

"I don't mean –" She closes her eyes and exhales. She goes to the window and looks outside.

No one's there. At least as far as she can see.

She returns to the sofa. Mike's staring at her like she's crazy.

"I don't mean them," she says. "I mean the people from the lab." The last word is barely audible. The air in the room stands still, and Nancy becomes aware of her headache again, half-forgotten during the brief moments of dread. She puts a cold hand over her forehead.

"The… who? The people from the lab are in prison – who's going to hear me?"

"I don't know. I don't want to risk it," she whispers.

"But there's no risk," Mike says in confusion.

"How the hell do you know?" Nancy snaps, lurching forward. "You're always talking about it like we're all safe but you don't know – you have no idea! None of us does! We have no idea how many of them there are or what they're going to do next –" She barely has any clue what she's saying, and her head starts pounding, and thinking feels like a struggle through the pain. "Just – just – do us all a favor and shut up about it already!"

Nancy realizes she's breathing heavily. She leans back again, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Typical," Mike mutters.

"Excuse me?"

"I said it's typical! Every time I think you're just a little bit nicer you become all mean and horrible again! You're so predictable it's not even funny!"

"Hey, I'm only saying that for your sake! And for hers, Mike – for all of us!"

"Yeah right! I can't believe you! I bet you would've kept her hidden for a year too –"

"Of course I would!" she exclaims. "It was the right thing to do, it made sense!"

As soon as the words leave her lips, Nancy knows it's the worst possible thing she could have said.

Something seems to break in Mike's eyes. For a moment she thinks he's going to lash out, scream at her with the most hateful things he can think of, but he just gazes at her and there's that stillness again, that eerie silence of the room. Then Mike gets up and walks away, muttering something under his breath.

"What did you say?"

"I SAID YOU'RE JUST LIKE HIM!" he yells, and runs up the stars.

Nancy stares after him, her mouth slightly open.

No insults or swear words? That's something, at least.

Right?

Her vision goes blurry.

He's wrong, though. She's nothing like Hopper.

If she was, maybe she wouldn't be feeling this way.

If she was, at least she'd have one person who understands her.

But Hopper doesn't see people following him every time he goes outside, or carry the weight of his best friend's death with him –

Nancy takes a deep breath and realizes she is shaking. She gets up from the sofa. She doesn't want to be here anymore.

But there's nowhere to go. She's already home.

The sleepy, disgruntled face of her father appears in the room.

"What's with all the yelling?"

"That wasn't me, that was Mike," she snaps.

"I don't care who it was," he drawls, "keep it down. Some of us are trying to get some rest."

She's just about to retort when her mother comes down the stairs, looking worried.

"Nancy? What happened? Your brother is really upset –"

"Ugh, whatever!"

"Nancy," her mother tries, but Nancy rushes up the stairs past her. She knows no one will follow.

Entering her room, she shuts the door, sits on the bed and lets the familiar comfort envelop her. Her head feels like it's about to explode.

After a few moments, she realizes she can hear the quiet but unmistakable sounds of Mike's sobs from his room.

Great, this is just great.

Nancy puts her face in her hands as waves of guilt wash over her. It's not fair that she feels so guilty. It's not fair that it's always her fault. Nothing is fair.

She hears a sad little wail from the direction of Holly's room. Her sister, the sweetest, quietest child in the world starts crying, and Nancy can practically hear her mother's soothing whispers –

– Shhh, Holly, it's okay, it's just your brother and sister having another argument. But they're fine, we're all fine. Everything's fine.

Her eyes fall on her night table, and the picture of her and Barb hugging, happy, young and alive.

Feeling somehow both older and younger than seventeen, Nancy lies down and starts to cry herself.

A/N: MAN, THE ANGST. I had no idea. I swear it wasn't supposed to be this angsty. I blame the Wheelers.

I feel like I should mention that I'm not trying to make Nancy into an awful person, I just see her reacting something like this at this point. I hope at least someone else will think so too and she's not coming across as totally unsympathetic because that's the opposite of what I'm trying to do. And things will lighten up… soonish. :)

Thank you for reading! As always, I'd love to hear your opinions! :D