Take My Hand Chapter 3, a stranger things, 2016 fanfic

[A/N: Six months. No one is more ashamed than I am. Yet I have to be honest, there are many reasons to why it took me this long to update but I wont keep you long and only talk about two of them. One, is because this was a hard chapter because it had to be strong yet I couldn't say much since the heavy part begins on ch IV. As time went by and because I'm a perfectionist, I was never satisfied with what I had because I only want to give you guys the best and it took me a lot of hard work to have something that is worthy of your time and loyalty. Second, and sad, is that I have been feeling under appreciated by those who read my stories but never review. That caused me to question if I should keep writing or not, not gonna lie.

Anyway, I'm here because of all the wonderful people who always show me some love. This is for you guys.]

Stranger Things belongs to The Duffer Brothers and Netflix. I own nothing.

oOoOoOoOoOo

TAKE MY HAND

Ch. III

December 20th, 1997.

Beep... Beep... Beep...

December 21st, 1997.

Beep... Beep... Beep...

December 22nd, 1997.

Beep... Beep... Beep...

48 hours They passed; tortuous expectant, empty ... And Mike didn't wake up.

The "beep" from the heart rhythm monitor was the only noise coming from Mike. It was the only proof that he was still alive along with that soft and almost imperceptible movement of his chest when he breathed.

His dormant face, his eyes closed in an endless dream and his cold and inert hand not responding to the desperate and yearning touch of the young woman who held him every minute since he was put in that bed, begging for him to return from the place he was currently being kept.

Eleven wanted to die.

The passage of doctors who paraded in there reading spreadsheets, talking to each other, checking him almost without touching him. Nurses coming by to change his salines solutions, to inject things. Exchanged silences, mixed looks between pity and indifference and El felt tiny before them, unconsciously standing in front of Mike as if she was trying to defend him and yet feeling like she couldn't. . It felt as if she was so small, protecting her most precious treasure from giants who were trying to step on him – on them – because the main source of all her courage was asleep and now she had to find where to load all her energy to fight and yet he was always the one who recharged her every day.

Her source of energy, the heart in her chest, the powers in her body; Mike renewing every single cell inside of her every morning with the sleepy smile he gave her when he woke up and appeared in the kitchen wearing his pajamas, so wonderfully disheveled and messy. He makes her happy, with his arms wrapping around her waist from behind and that fresh minte breath when he kissed her good morning and then buried his face in Eleven's neck while she prepared breakfast, muttering some distant tune from the radio and rocking as he clung to her, stealing endless laughters.

Those mornings that Eleven doesn't want to give up, which she can't give up.

How could she wake up every day without those hugs; without Mike appearing down the hall scratching those soft disheveled loops and yawning before holding her from behind and joking about how they should quit their jobs so they could stay in bed for a while longer.

"What do you say if we stay here all day resting?" he used to hum, placing kisses on her neck; his voice tingling against the exposed skin of the shirt Eleven wore as pajamas, that too big shirt from MIT that was actually his which Eleven claimed as hers years ago.

She used to laugh at the same morning joke every day because she knew that said 'rest' of which Mike always talked about would transform into eternal hours of shared love between their sheets and then he'd joke again, wanting to actually rest after all that passion only to take her in his arms again and make her see the stars between touches made of fire and caresses soft as silk.

How to stop resisting? How to abandon the fight if they had only just begun?

Everyone kept approaching the room, they walked inside one by one to try to convince her to go home, to rest, to go for a walk. Whispered phrases of people who also loved her but who, truth be told, cannot offer a shred of the happiness Mike gives her every day.

On the night of the accident, Will and Florian arrived with Dustin, running through the hospital corridor after having asked for them in reception. The reunion had been the most bitter thing she has lived in a long, long time.

Even if they saw them every week because they also lived in Massachusetts, Eleven felt that an eternity had passed since the last time she saw them. Being there, seeing the reunion with Lucas and Max whom they were really far away the rest of the year and seeing the tears, hearing the questions, the despair and the uncertainty and the pain of not knowing what will happen, it all crushed El's heart even more.

That was not how it was supposed to be, how the group should meet again.

They had planned these holidays with such enthusiasm, spending Christmas and New Year with their friends and family, celebrating Mike's master and PhD along with his birthday and the birth of Dustin's daughter; seeing Lucas holding little Pamela while Dustin, who he always fought with, would asked him to be his daughter's godfather and then joking at the emotion and tears that moment would inevitably cause everyone. All that was displaced by the fatality of a destiny that was waiting for them but nobody could have ever foreseen.

There were no hugs, laughs, congratulations or tears of joy. There were no excuses on El's part for not going with Mike and the boys to eat hamburgers two days before Christmas so she could actually stay preparing a surprise party with Karen which, of course, the boys already knew about. The tears that fell down their friend's cheeks, that family they built, were not happy and those hugs did not congratulate achievements or birthdays, no; those hugs sought to give and receive support all because of a fateful act of ambition and crime that had taken innocent lives and left the young man whom everyone loves, suspended in a dream that, as days went by, did not leave him alone. Congratulations turned into whispers, asking each other how they were holding up, how this had happened, or what the doctors are saying; and those tears, oh God, those tears stabbed every plan, every wish for a happy holiday in the heart, turning the excitement of friends who missed each other into the prelude of an abrupt end, torn from all the tragedies ever written.

Seeing them from Mike's bedroom as they sadly greeted each other between frowns and pain painted on their faces only to turn to her and give her even more support but also disarming her because the love received and their shared fear, all that stabbed Eleven along with the feeling of burying her husband before his heart gave the last beat.

But what could she do? Could she ask them to stop comforting her when it was her who sobbed on each available shoulder?

Could she tell them to stop saying "I'm sorry" when they really felt it just because it felt like a goodbye? It would be as if she was crazy and perhaps little by little it was true. El had this whirlwind of feelings because she adores each of them and yet there were moments when she felt overwhelmed by so many people nearby and so alone in their arms.

It was love and support what she received; she heard how they all tried to hold on their hopes for Mike to remain alive but even among her family and friends who were by her side and who she deeply thanked, the only arms, caresses and voice Eleven needed the most were the ones from the one person who had been resting in the hospital bed for days and still hadn't woken up.

She needed him. Nobody else.

But why? She asked herself again and again, why hasn't Mike woken up yet?

It was eight o'clock at night when Nancy arrived from New York a day before Mike's birthday.

Nancy lived with Jonathan since their college years and now they had a three-year-old girl, Jilly, who looked exactly like her mother and whose photos papered the walls of their apartment in New York; part of Jonathan's adoration for his little girl who he was always photographing.

The news of the accident had reached the young woman through her father when he called her on the same day of the robbery but it had not been until that day that Nancy had been able to get the time to travel back to Hawkins. Unfortunately, and as Jonathan had recently been promoted into covering one of the most important political sections, they had not given him permission to travel with his wife, so she traveled alone leaving him with their daughter while she traveled to comfort the rest of her family.

"El!" Nancy called from the hall, approaching almost running when she could recognize her sister-in-law and some of Mike's friends next to a gray door in the intensive care wing. It was then that the shock and worry and that cloak of unreality that had covered Nancy's thoughts, putting her in a sleepy and authentic trance state, suddenly rose when she looked at Eleven in the eyes.

When she saw the pain in her eyes.

It was like if someone was punching her in the chest, snatching the air from her lungs while the weight from her father's words finally fell on her: 'Nance, there was a robbery in the bank and your brother, who came to close the sale from your grandparents' house, was there too. Mike was shot, dear and it's bad, really bad.'

The arms of both girls clenched tightly on each other and they didn't know who of the two had started crying first but there they were. Nancy could not tell who comforted whom, who supported whom, who kept the other standing. That time since her father's call, the time in which Mike remained unconscious, the boys who were always so happy a chatty now keeping silence next to them and Eleven all broken in her arms, all that hurt Nancy from the bottom of her soul, pushing her to the same edge everyone was trying to avoid.

Because that's her little brother after all.

"Oh El, I can't believe it." the older young woman whispered, rubbing her eyes and Eleven thought it was ironic that Nancy's beautiful blue eyes looked even brighter when she was sad.

El shrugged; someone had offered both a tissue, she didn't know who.

"How is he? Where is he?"

Eleven pointed at the slightly open door of the private intensive care room where they had her husband. "He's stable, although I can't understand how this can be called 'stable'." she blew her nose. "He hasn't woken up yet, not even once. He hasn't even moved a bit, not even his eyes or his fingers, or..."

"Calm down." Dustin whispered behind her. He placed a hand on her waist as he had been doing, always ready to hold her in case she gets dizzy again.

The young woman looked at the boys around them. There were no parents nearby. Karen had gone to the house to sleep a little and Ted was also in the house taking care of everything so he could help his wife and attend Holly. Joyce was at work and Hopper and Max were also at the station. At the moment they were only Dustin, Lucas, Will and Florian, who offered both a glass of water.

"They said Mike should wake up in the first 48 hours. without exception but nothing has happened yet. Not even the slightest movement, nothing at all. Doctors haven't talked much, they say we have to wait and see..." Lucas explained.

Will shook his head. "I still can't understand how something like this happened. How could all those criminals infiltrate with the amount of security available in the bank? My mother told me that a lot was invested in changing the bank to a new place."

"Yes, the idea was to be able to extend the center of the town by having two separate areas but unfortunately within the band that came they were also guards from here." Lucas explained.

"Sons of a bitch, I hope they find them soon." muttered Florian, putting an arm around Will's shoulders and kissing his head.

Nancy turned to them. "Are they still fugitives?"

She was upset and she had every right to be.

"Five of them died and five more escaped. The surrounding cities are working with Hopper or something like that, I don't know, I didn't understand very well." El said, blowing her nose again. It was Lucas who had given her the tissue, he offered another.

"And there are two more at the Indianapolis station, apparently they weren't ten but twelve in all and they were caught there when they wanted to buy a first aid kit for shot wounds in a pharmacy."

Florian shrugged. "At least they are stupid enough. Hopefully they can tell the police where to find the rest."

Dustin nodded. "Yeah, Steve called and told me. The news apparently went far, yet the innocents who were wounded..." Dustin shook his head and remained silence; everyone understood what he meant.

Nancy shook her head. "Oh my God…"

"How many families did they ruin?" Eleven asked maybe a little angrier than she wanted. Tears were falling from her eyes as she held the tissue against her nose. Her eyes were irritated from crying day and night. "I try to think about all of them too but I'm sorry ... I'm sorry but I don't want Mike to have the same destin…"

She couldn't talk about it, not even conceive the idea in her head much less say it out loud. What if saying it, it became real? The people who died also had a partner, parents, brothers and sisters, friends. An eighteen year old girl who had been injured had gone with her father to the bank to make the deposit for her University which she was about to enter next year. She had been shot three times in the chest, she was in a coma until that morning and Eleven could not stop thinking about the parents of that girl who dreamed of going to Princeton and was now heading to sleep in a box for all eternity.

Life could not be so cruel but still, and – heavens if Eleven knew it well –, horrible things and monsters disguised as people walked the earth spraying their poison, pain and death.

"El." Nancy placed a hand on the young woman's shoulder. "Can I have a moment with him?"

In all those years, with all the experiences, adventures, dangers and celebrations lived, Nancy never felt more moved than she did at that moment when she entered Mike's room and found him there.

"Oh Mike." she whispered, leaving her purse on a hook behind the door and going to his bed until she reached the chair that Eleven has surely been occupying all these days. She run her hand carefully and fearfully on the bed looking at all those devices and machines around Mike. The cardiac monitor, the life support, her fingers gliding gently over the bed with her heart pounding in her ears, Nancy was afraid that even the slightest touch could harm her brother.

A tear fell and Nancy realized she started to cry.

"Who did this to you?" the question came out as if it were a moan of pain as the young woman drew the chair to herself and sat down, getting closer to her younger brother.

Her younger brother, her little brother, now a full and handsome young man, a scientist. A friend, a son, a husband, Nancy could not list with all her fingers and toes all the reasons why she was so proud of him. It was something so primitive, so unfathomable, roaring from inside her chest to the world in a phrase that she realized right there, never said it enough.

And that's how much Nancy loves him.

One of her hands went to hold his, carefully closing on cold fingers and her other hand resting carefully on Mike's pillow, measuring each movement so she wouldn't hurt or disturb him when she touched with great delicacy the loose lock of hair between that cap of bandages that wrapped his head.

"Hey you." she whispered. Nancy's tears gathering together under her nose and her red eyes highlighted the blue that she inherited from her grandmother Theresa. "I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier and Jonathan had to stay in New York with Jilly."

It was even more difficult than she thought; being there, talking to him without knowing if he was listening or not, nor even knowing if Mike was really there. A dark and gloomy thought crossed her mind, a cold sensation running through her veins as the fleeting idea of talking to his younger brother's warm and empty body, sustained with an artificial heartbeat while his soul lay far away in the eternity made fear, horror and pain slap the young woman with enormous force.

She chewed her lip, shaking her head and closing her eyes at that horrible thought, trying to erase it, trying to leave it behind and holding on to the hope that he really was there. Mike must be there, heartbeat and soul together in a forced dream but waiting to wake up.

"I want to show you something." Nancy said, getting up to take her purse for a moment and a photo she had in her wallet, holding it a few inches from the young man's face. "Look, here is Jilly, we took this picture in September on her first day of school. Don't you think she looks just like Holly?" she told him but she was struggling with herself, her voice breaking with each passing second, with each 'beep' that hit her ears but he remained asleep.

It was as if she was speaking to nothing.

As if there was nothing in front of her.

"Last week ... Last week Jilly lost her first baby tooth." she sighed. "Oh you should have seen it, it was very funny. Jonatan tied her little tooth with a thread and tied it to the door, it had been loose for a few days but she seemed not to understand very well what was suppoused to happen so instead of waiting for him to close the door, she walked back and took it off by herself." a giggle mixed with tears escaped her lips. "It was so funny..."

But at some point that giggle tunerd into a gasp and suddenly turned into crying, into this desperate search for air; she approached her brother and showed him the photo more earnestly, with fear and desperation hitting her back, yelling 'He isn't there, there's nothing there. Give up.'

Nancy lost it.

"Mike please look at her, your niece misses you. Can you open your eyes for her? She wants you to open them Mike." Nancy cried, begging maybe a little more desperate than she thought she was, waving the photo in front of him. "Oh come on, please Mike open your eyes! Do you know what she said to me before coming here? Do you? She told me to ask the tooth fairy for you to feel better."

What her daughter told Nancy before getting into the cab broke the young woman's heart.

"Mommy, uncle Mike is going to be okay, right?" asked the little girl in Jonatan's arms, both had come down to the sidewalk to wish her a good trip, regretting not being able to accompany her.

Nancy wanted to say yes, she wanted to say it but she couldn't lie to her. The mere fact of knowing that telling her Mike would be okay could indeed be a lie, destroyed Nancy in the very depths of her soul.

She held her little girl and kissed the tip of her nose. "I don't know honey, but while the doctor try to heal uncle Mike, all of us must send all our love and strength to him, right?"

Jonatan caressed his wife's cheek with one of his hands; he knew how much strength was taking for Nancy to not fall apart right there.

"Mommy, I was thinking…" the little girl said as she played with the ribbon tied on her braids. "Can you tell the tooth fairy that if she makes uncle Mike better, she doesn't need to bring me money anymore? I have a lot of teeth, I don't need that much money. Can you tell her that? Can you ask her to heal uncle Mike's head?"

Her daughter's request, the innocent reverie of a little girl who believed in fantasy, miracles and goodness above anything was so sweet but that did not stop Nancy from breaking into tears once she got inside the cab after saying goodbye to her family."

She put the photo of her daughter back in her wallet and carefully took his hand again. One hand in Mike's, the other softly resting on his pillow, finding that lock of hair that escaped the bandages.

She looked at his dormant face, his closed eyes and the complete absence of any sign from him of having even heard her. Did Mike know she was there? Did Mike know that Nancy was crying to him?

Dear God… Did Mike know how much his older sister loves him?

Nancy bit her lip, tear after tear calm and painful running down her cheeks as she watched him there asleep and a bitterly thought that she did not remember having said it even once since he was little.

Why didn't she? Why should she behave in such nonchalant way if Nancy worships Mike from the bottom of her soul since she first time she saw him?

Oh that day… She was camping when Holly was born but, even if she was little, she remembered as if it were yesterday the day Mike came into the world and more specifically the day he was introduced to her for the first time.

From the moment mom and dad told her she was going to be an older sister, Nancy felt anything but happiness. The sudden change in everything, the attention divided even long before her mother had the first signs of a growing tummy, her parents talking to the future baby when he couldn't even hear them, but Nancy – who was there, looking at them with a frown as she started losing the uniqueness of being the only child – could hear all the nonsense they said and the meaningful smile that, until then, was only for her.

"Nancy look at what we bought for the future baby." Her mother said, as if Nancy cared.

"Nancy, we must ask you a great favor. We need you to move from your room to the next one because the new baby needs to sleep in the bedroom closest to mommy and daddy, sweetheart. " They had the nerve to ask her a few days before Halloween.

"Nancy, come help mommy fold the clothes for the hospital suitcase." Ugh, couldn't they just leave her alone?

"Nancy, do you want to touch your mother's tummy? The baby is moving." Nope.

"Nancy, look, we bought you these new crayons." Oh boy, they finally remembered they have a daughter. "Why don't you make a cute drawing to show the baby when he comes home from the hospital?" Hahaha… Don't think so.

"Nancy, go and tell dad that the baby wants to go out. Take my suitcase, darling." Already!?

"Nancy, mom is in the hospital and I must go with her. You will stay with the neighbors, okay?" The abandonment has begun.

"Nancy, here you are. Guess what, you have a little brother; no darling, is better if you don't come to the hospital because it's so cold. Today we won't return but tomorrow when we get home I'll pick you up. Isn't it great? Your little brother is like a Christmas present." Well, Santa got the wrong letter.

For months the life that she had known had moved around the damn new baby, the boy who with his birth was changing Christmas Eve on his birthday and, from now on, everything in this time of the year will revolve around him.

The little girl's head whirled and jumped around this crazy amount of bad examples caused by TV shows and the bad teaching it gave that parents forgot their children exist when a new one came to the house. Ted was driving the car and she was in the back seat coming home on Christmas Eve to go and meet the face of the adversary, the enemy.

What would it be of her from now? Where is her place now? Why did the baby came to occupy her spot?

Why did he have to come into the world?

All those questions, all those nightmares; all those fears, all those comings and goings between the conflict and the resolution tingling in her little head caused an endless and desperate noise like the one she heard that time she saw a honeycomb up close.

But suddenly, when they entered the house and she went up with her father to what had been her room until recently and she saw her mother holding something in her arms, right there the noise stopped altogether.

How does a little girl explain this new sensation?

Was it dad's voice saying very quietly she should be careful or was it mom's whisper telling her that she was going to place the baby in the crib?

At what moment did the sun make its way through the snow-laden clouds and her old room was lit with the evening glow that caressed that pink face? Nancy felt like she would cry at any moment when she saw him stir under his blanket and heard his moan before from falling asleep again.

How does a little girl explain that inexorable feeling of resolution, of sense, of eternal happiness to see for the first time in her life that thing for what she would die without second thoughts?

Dad was right; he was like a Christmas present. He was the gift Santa sent to her and only for her. No poster would be prettier than the one Nancy was going to paint for him, no room attached to his would be close enough. No day could go by without regretting not touching the belly where he was and she could never be as wrong as she had been lately. And she finally knew that was always her place, her role, because Nancy had to become an older sister so that way the baby could fit entirely in her heart.

Pink lips, long eyelashes, round face and a single strand of hair in the otherwise bald head. Nancy's tears escaped by themselves because he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life.

"Are you happy honey?" mom asked and she nodded like never before.

Someone put a hand on her shoulder, dad whispered behind her. "Say hello to Michael, sweetheart."

Michael…

Mike...

The sparkles in her favourite dress, the Christmas lights on the roof of the house, the first snow, the smell of freshly baked cookies, everything she loved the most began to take a tenth place compared to him.

To the absolute perfection that he is.

"Hi Mike, I'm Nancy, your big sister." the little one whispered between broken voice and a love so great that it embarrassed the enormity of the world outside the sandbox and the sun shining in the sky. She gave him the bear in her arms so that mommy could put it in the crib and Nancy ran a hand around the little boy's pillow, caressing his forehead with her thumb and taking his right hand with the other, shuddering at the softness of his skin, the surprisingly firm grip that little hand made on her finger and the depth of his eyes looking at her for the first time. He gave her a sleepy little smile that was engraved in her brain.

She would always be there for him. She would always protect him.

"I'll love you forever."

Nancy stood up and carefully kissed her little brother's forehead. He was in the hospital, tears were pouring from her eyes. She was losing him. She apologized.

She failed.

"I'll love you forever, Mike."

December 23th, 1997.

It was 3:00 am and in addition to being another night with her husband suspended between life and death, it was also Mike's birthday. And Eleven was there, next to him, as she had been since everything happened.

The girl's face was distant, sad and a little angry but not at the sleeping boy in front of her but with the people around them. With Max, with Hopper, with the boys, with everyone because ...

What right did they have?

Who told them they had the power to say that? Who the hell did they think they were?

A part of her felt horrible for thinking like that but she had spoken from deep down. The lack of sleep, the tiredness she was loaded with, the 'nutrition' she's been having based on coffee and more coffee because she could not tolerate anything in the stomach: all that stress giving her constant nausea; all of this had come when in a new outburst of tears shortly after midnight while Eleven was lamenting the 'birthday' that Mike was going through, Hopper said she shouldn't torture herself thinking about it.

How could she not torture herself thinking that if she had gone with him to the bank, Mike wouldn't be in that situation?

Then Will told her to go rest at their parents or at her in-law's house; that she feeds, that she sleeps in a bed and go out to get some air, that made Eleven feel worse because she felt that the only rest she could get would be when he'd open his eyes.

What rest or which bite could she have if her heart is piercing her throat and dreams are nightmares where reality hits worse than every second without Mike?

And the drop that actually spilled the glass was when El, while saying that she wouldn't let Mike spend even a moment of his birthday alone, Max said possibly without even thinking: "But El, what difference does it make if he won't notice?"

How dare she say such a thing?

The way Eleven looked at her made the lights blink uncontrollably and her friends had to do their best to calm the situation; even though it was a coincidence that Karen and Ted both went to the house, there were still nurses and janitors walking around them and Florian who didn't know the truth about her habilities, shouldn't notice it was her who made the lights work oddly. But El was completely out of her mind.

There was a great fight, an exchange of apologies, tears, accusations, requests for answers; a break between friendship and family and a torn prayer that cried for a little more hope because saying something like that was as good as throwing in the towel and hand Mike over to the arms of death when she was still holding his hand and pulling him to stay, breathing the same air and walking on the same land next to her.

She couldn't leave him there, she couldn't give up whispering her love in his ear while he slept because it had been him who got her back since the first nightmares. Either when she was hiding in his basement and Mike, back then a child, was there when she suffered in her dreams or, when they met again, he picked up his supercomm in the middle of the night after she called him after having a bad dream. He was the one who drove his bike to the cabin if there was a storm comming and Hopper wasn't home, and when he got his car Mike would go there at any time in the middle of the night just because she asked him to. Mike is the one who had managed to scare away her fears, her doubts, her pain and the demons that sometimes appeared, just by hugging her in bed and chasing away whatever darkness ahead with the love that brought them together since the moment he came into her life.

Because Eleven loves Hopper, Joyce, her friends, everyone really. Because everyone had also been there welcoming her to the party, giving her a motherly hug, giving her a home to live in and, even if she would never want seem ungrateful, it was Mike her first protector, her first friend, her only love.

Unconsciously and innocently, he possesses an even stronger power than she has and he doesn't even know it. El remembered that time when she turned fourteen and Mike couldn't go because he had to be home because of the measles, how he tried to show her that he was still with her on the first birthday she celebrated in her life by sending a video where not only he confessed his love but also showed her that the hands she always held, that caressed her cheeks, those hands were able to create music and his lips, which she would never tire of kissing, sang a love song describing the perfect bond they share today.

Mike's power, his special ability: create electricity by brushing his fingers with hers. Project love and a future with just a gaze, lighting her way with a smile, providing support with just a few words and be a source of happiness and energy only by standing on her side, just like he has been since day one.

How could they tell her to go home, to go for a walk, to let someone replace her in the hospital if she knew from her own experience that he would never, ever, leave her side if the situation were different?

How could they look at her with those pity-filled eyes?

How dare they giving up?

She cannot resign. It doesn't matter if they look at her with pity or if the hands resting and patting her back hurt as if they spanked her, she didn't care if there words meant they were all saying goodbye to Mike already because Eleven wouldn't say goodbye to him. She can't give up his sleepy eyes every morning and his koala-bear hugs when she makes breakfast. She cannot give up the aroma of partially burnt toasts when he wants to surprise her with breakfast or the delicious cheese toasts sandwiches that only he knows how to prepare for her; El is always wondering how can he cook that appetizer so well but he still burns the bread in the automatic toaster.

Eleven can't give up Mike's smile, she can't give up his laughter; that musical laughter which she would bottle and listen to every second of the day. She can't give up on the soft tickles he does when she's lying on her stomach after love making and he runs his fingers over her skin, from her neck to her bum as they talk and plan the week every Sunday morning.

Asking Eleven to go out and distract, to speak with somebody so can 'prepare for the worst' was like asking her to tear out her own lungs with a spoon and see if she can keep breathing.

Because… Fuck! It's Mike they're talking about. Mike! That young man who is the reason why she lives today, for whom she smiles, for whom she dreams, for whom she sighs and sing and for whom she thanks every day that he is the man she fell in love with.

Eleven returned to the room with her husband, eyes full of tears as proof and symbol of protest that she was there and she would stay there, no matter who likes it and whoever gets offended because she married for better and for worse, in sickness and in health until death breaks them apart… but it ain't that day yet.

She held on Mike's hand again and brought his inert palm to cup her face before kissing his knuckles as she cried and felt the eyes of her friends and family burning the back of her neck with their pity.

"I am here, baby. I-it doesn't matter what the others ... I don't c-care about anything they… they s-say Mike." the young woman cried as she spoke, her nose red and her soul all shattered. "My love please, I b-beg you oh ... please wake up. Please!" she repeated once more, kissing the cold palm before resting her head on the bed until she dozed off.

"Are you nervous?" Eleven asked, adjusting Mike's tie and running her hands through the shirt she ironed with love, and because he was so nervous that he almost burned the bottom lapel that, fortunately, was covered with his pants.

The boy nodded, sighed, denied and nodded again. He wasn't just nervous, he was terrified. Saying he was scare to death was an understatement.

El smiled at him, how couldn't she? He was acting so cute and she also knew how hard Mike had worked with his great friend Florian to prepare the project they would present for their master's degree.

"Mike ..." Eleven whispered, putting both hands on his cheeks, making him look into her eyes. "I'm so proud of you. You're going to impress them, honey. You, Flo, the girls, have been breaking your backs and every minute of your sacrifice and theirs will have been worth it."

The young man nodded again, stroking Eleven's hands. "Your sacrifice too, because these three years since we got married I have worked non-stop and you have also paid the price."

The girl shook her head. "No Mike, when we got married we knew it would be like this. I knew when you graduated that I was aeither going to have to wait until the holidays for three more years or to come here and support you on this path and I choose to come, it was my decision. Even if there were times that you even had to sleep in the lab, I promise I have never, ever, felt alone nor under loved because I know that everything you have worked for has been for our future."

Mike wanted to cry but he didn't, instead he took the face of that beautiful woman he proudly called his wife and kissed her long and hard.

"I love you more than anything in the world, El." he whispered after the kiss. "From now on honey, we will finally have much more time together."

El smiled. "I know, Mike."

When the young man leaned down to kiss her again Florian – dear and a little rough Florian – came into the apartment like someone running in his own house, all accelerated, disheveled and scared.

"Mikey, I fell asleep! If it wasn't because Will called me to wish me good luck I swear I would be sleeping right now!" he explained as he moved to their fridge and drank orange juice. "Come on, come on!"

They both laughed; poor Flo, but they knew very well the level of stress he must be having.

"Janie, darling I'm sorry, hi." the blonde approached El and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Forgive me, you know."

"I know, I know." the girl giggled. "Go get them!"

Mike took his briefcase with his reports and looked at his friend and former roommate. "Hey, where are your reports?"

The other guy opened his green eyes so wide it looked like there were about to drop but then sighed. Eleven wouldn't stop laughing at his momentary panic for a week.

"Ah they are in the car, yes. God I almost died."

Mike shook his head then leaned in to give Eleven another kiss. "Baby, I'll be back around seven-ish."

"Don't worry, my love. Good luck!" she said with her eyes flashing with love and pride. "I love you."

"I love you, El."

"And I love you both, now let's go!" Florian squealed, waving to the young woman and dragging Mike out.

When Mike graduated, the engineering and biology department teamed up to provide four job openings for newly graduates that allowed two biologists, an engineer, and a physicist to jointly earn their master's and doctorate if they were able to offer a method that can be sustainable as profitable to improve the quality of life. With revolutionary prosthetics for patients who needed vital organs and had to wait on the list, Mike, Florian and two young biologists managed to not only create these replacements that could last for years giving people an answer to their prayers but, inspired by going for more, they managed to find a genetic engineering method that ranged from helping to create life when all conception methods have failed, to using stem cells to treat and even cure diseases or severe damage that, until now, hadn't been possible.

Eleven did not understand all of that very well because it was a very technical language but one day the four of them were celebrating the birthday of one of the girls and each one went with their partners, Mike said something to her that made her feel so proud.

"Imagine what you know about a lab." he whispered so that no one listens, none of them knew about the young woman's past. "Well, we want to do the opposite. Not only is it helping to improve the lives of those who need a heart, a lung or whatever, but how many people have exhausted the possibilities of having a family. With genetic engineering we go to the smallest center of what human nature is and we will therefore create life and one that is healthy as well as we go deep into the human genome so that the one whose accident or stroke has caused irreparable damage can cure for real. If we do this, if we manage to turn the board, we are taking life and health to another new level."

And they had succeeded.

After three years of research, of sleepless nights, of hard work at MIT, of sleeping in the labo, all four had verifiable and firm results and that day they would go to present it and perhaps, they would obtain their master's degree and their doctorate.

That May afternoon El didn't have to work because all three specialists from the medical office where she worked were together on a symposium so she had the day off, doing housework and also occupying her mind with the nerves she also had. Around seven o'clock she laid on their couch to take a short nap; she hoped everything was going well, Mike deserved it. He had put blood, sweat and tears on his work and she just hoped that those who were responsible for giving her husband their approval were smart enough to see the bright young man in front of them and his little team of geniuses.

The sweet touch of Mike's long fingers woke her up, stroking between her curls and bringing her back to consciousness.

"Hello beautiful." whispered the boy sitting next to her on the couch. The wall clock showed 7:45 and the big, bright smile on his face made her wake up in a split second."

"Sweetie! How ... How was it, how did it go?"

Mike looked down, his smile dwindling but only to pull a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. He gave those to his wife, in them a small card which El began to read without understanding much of what was happening.

'"Thank you my love for the support you have given me. Unconditional and forever, I'll love you until I die' signed Genetic Engineer Michael Wheeler, PhD... PHD!'" El yelled as she fell onto reality, on the card and in the smile of her husband who was crying with happiness. "Mike, oh Mike you did it, honey! I knew you could do it, I'm so proud of you!"

They shared a tight hug so full of happiness, gratitude and knowing that they could finally dedicate themselves to rest. They could start putting together their lives, looking for a baby, making their honeymoon which they couldn't before because this whole project had to start. Everything they fought for was finally there. Life began for them in a new, happier and calmer stage.

Mike buried his face in Eleven's loops, in her strands that permanently smelled like cherries and he sighed filled with love and gratitude, digging his fingers into her hair and caressing the one who was the entire reason he smiles.

"All thanks to you, El. Everything is for you."

A violent shake woke the young woman up, Mike's hand she had left resting on her face had started moving. In the last days, with the hope that at some point his fingers would awaken her from her vigil with a caress and a smile but instead of that ... Everything happened at once, everything happened so quickly.

Beep beep beep!

The heart-rate monitor was freaking out, its paused 'beep' started to move fast, erratic, and Mike's hand that woke her up was just the first in a series of involuntary spasms from his entire body and those eyelids that Eleven had been waiting to open, did open but she never expected to see that. Those eyes were blank.

Eleven was awakened by Mike's violent movements because he was going through something that was new and absolutely not good. Yet she did not know what to do, she was paralized with the image of seeing him there, shaking unconsciously in front of her as El felt her heart breaking.

She didn't react until Dustin and Will entered behind a doctor and a nurse who rushed into that room.

"Code red, code red!"

"Doctor, what do you need?"

"Call the neurologist, prepare the surgery room!"

"Mike!" Eleven finally found her voice as tears found their way back to her cheeks and panic hit her heart again. "What's going on!? He was just sleeping, what's happening to him!?"

"Mrs. Wheeler, please leave the room."

The nurse tried to calm the young woman but the doctor told her to call for more help while Mike stirred and jumped in bed and his heart rate was crazy and more and more alarms started howling.

"We are losing him!"

"No! Mike wake up, wake up!"

"Get her out of here!" shouted the doctor and Dustin, Will and Hopper who also joined them took her by her arms as she struggled. Their friends in the hallway crowded the door while she shook herself in the arms of her father and her friends as she cried and yelled and begged for them to let her stay.

She had to be there; she had to hold his hand and make him feel that she was there for him, so he could find his way back home.

"Calm down, you can't do anything!" Dustin tried to reason as they pulled her out from the room.

But she felt that her heart was breaking, that life was leaving, that all her strength left her.

"No, Mike ... Please don't!" she sobbed as she melted into a bunch of arms as she fell on the floor. "MIKE!"

4:00 am.

Ted Wheeler had just hung up the phone for a second time. The first call came from one of the boys who told him that Mike had suffered a stroke and a subsequent series of attacks. The second call had been from the hospital, informing him the same and also that one of their advisers would be approaching him first thing in the morning to 'discuss' some options.

Ted sighed. In all these years he had never been a man of drinks. He has always been dull, with simple tastes and naps on the couch, but that night while he picked up the courage to go up to the room he shared with his wife Karen and before waking her up to explain what was going on, this rough and tired man had a whiskey double and walked to the fireplace.

Those photos that filled all the marble, family photos, photos of his wedding and their children. Their graduations and all those baby photos of his daughters, his granddaughter and his son.

His son.

Ted took the one with the green frame, the one that hung high which Karen had built with a double frame with the photo of a sleeping newborn Mike next to one when he graduated from college.

He drank his whiskey but the burn wasn't from the drink but from the despair of a father who has to see the end of a wonderful young life.

That little boy who was brilliant, that wonderful man of whom he could feel nothing but pride.

"Dad, I brought some papers that I would like you to sign, please. I wanted to give them to my wife but she doesn't want to know anything about it and I'm pretty sure that mom will act the same. Can you do it?"

Ted looked at those papers his son gave him.

"It is only for an extreme case. I just want El to be covered. You know, but it's just for precaution. Don't worry, you will never have to act on it, as I said it is just in case, I need to know that she will be fine. Will you promise me?"

He didn't know when but Ted Wheeler found himself sitting in his chair of a thousands of naps and hugged that frame with all his strength, breaking up in pieces right there.

Because those papers had been signed and sent. Because he promised it.

To take care of Jane.

"Please son ... Please." Ted Wheeler cried for the first time in God knows how long. "Please little one, don't make me do it."

OoOoOoOoOoO

Hello everyone still there!

As I explained before, there has been some insecurities of my part. For those who always review my work I can only be thankful. Yet I've been having doubts about continuing with this story because there are so many people reading without leaving a comment.

I know this can tire people because I always say the same but for me and other authors, it takes a lot of time to write something you can all enjoy and for me to also translate this so everyone can enjoy this.

I neeed to know if all my hard work is worth it.

Please leave a comment. I don't want to feel like I did and leave this for another six months or forever. Its unfair to whats coming and I promise that this chapter was a happy chapter compared to what I have in store.

That said, to the wonderful people out there, I'll see you soon.