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El had obvious problems with trusting people. Hopper said it’s called trust issues, and she’s more than likely to get more trust issues the longer she lives in Hawkins (with the government behind her every step, she can’t trust no one. at least not people she’s already accustomed to) as a normal citizen with a normal name that is not the shortened version of a number.
But she likes the nickname El, it humanises her. In some fucked up way, she likes it more than her given name. It reminds her of the days where she finally freed herself from Papa’s grimy hands, and found light instead of endless dark hallways and electric necklaces. It reminds her when she — or he, more so — found her in the woods on a rainy November night and took her in, no questions asked. (there were tons of questions asked, such as; where are your parents? and do you know your way home? and are you cold? here, have my jacket.)
But Mike was always there. Somehow, he was the most consistent person in her life from then on. When she left him in that classroom, she sensed him in the void a week after. When she left the cabin to look for her mother — her dear, sick mother — he was always in the back of her mind. Just existing.
Now they’re reunited, went to the Snow Ball together, hold hands more than regular people should and call each other boyfriend and girlfriend when talking about the other. It was sweet, it was making El’s cheeks heat up and her stomach fill with butterflies, but most of all, it was normal. She felt like a normal teenage girl with no problems.
(that’s what she tells herself every night, that she’s not the monster and that the gate was opened because of the demogorgan and oh god it wouldn’t even exist if she— if she—)
El was constantly reminded of Terry. Of her mother and her aunt Becky and Kali and of that group that call themselves family. Family. A bunch of strangers that fuel themselves with anger and regret and revenge are a family and somehow that’s not as weird of a concept even if it should be. (el thinks that kali is lucky. that if she was to think of a family the only picture to pop up in her brain is of hopper and never her mom and that fills her with guilt.)
What the Lab did to Terry filled El with rage so great that she could lift a truck off the ground. She should really see someone for this, El thinks, but nobody would quite understand her well. She can only think of one person.
Mike. Her person. With who she spends most of her time with, to an almost unhealthy degree according to many people (Hopper).
It’s funny, she thinks, she once didn’t trust him at all. Many moons ago, she was scared of him just like he was scared of her, and now they’re inseparable. Nevertheless, he has yet to hear her full story. El wonders for a quick moment if this would change everything. Will he still like her as much as he claims he does now?
“Mike,” the name comes out as a soft, delicate word out of her mouth, and it captures his attention. He hums as a response, his eyes glued to his homework that lay infront of him on the floor of his basement. She sat next to him, playing with the carpet wool. “I want to tell you.. something.” She expresses herself in a way that seems like she thinks hard about the words leaving her mouth before they do, in order to not make any mistakes. El hates mistakes — another thing the Lab has made her fear and despise.
That makes his eyes wander to her. Normally, she loved having his eyes trained on her and her only, this time though, it’s making her nervous. “Yeah?” the tone used is one of the softer ones — the ones reserved only for their quietest moments. It’s safe.
El stops picking the wool from underneath her hands and instead pulls the long sleeve of her white shirt over her hands. She feels Mike smiling at her, patiently so, with an expression so open that she forgets how to breathe for a second. She has a mission to complete, though, so she closes her eyes and breathes in and out. “You know when,” El begins. The words don’t quite come out right, Mike notices as he drops the pencil he was holding and interlinks their fingers.
He still doesn’t say anything, waiting for her to speak first. She likes that about him, he doesn’t pressure her in any way. “When I left Hop’s cabin? Seven months ago.” He nods to that, unintentionally giving El more confidence to continue.
“I didn’t find Kali right a— away.”
His brow furrowed, barely noticeable, but she concentrated on his face. “What do you mean?” He asks, like clockwork.
“I found some papers, with a number and my Mama's name,” She exhaled briefly before carrying on the sentence with, “and mine. It also had many photos of her and Papa.”
Mike’s mouth formed an “O”, with shock lacing his features. El didn’t quite know what that reaction meant, but she hoped it wasn’t a bad one. “You found your mom then?”
El nods. “And aunt Becky.” Her lips involuntarily turned upwards thinking about her aunt. El hopes she’s okay.
“What— what’s your, uhm well. What’s your name?” Mike’s ear went red, like a tomato, at the question. He felt like he was invading such a sensitive part of her life.
“Jane.”
“Jane?”
“Jane Ives.”
“Okay. Jane. That’s a beautiful name.”
El smile grew, and she blushed fiercely. “Thank you, Mike.” She looks towards his window, admiring the view for a minute. Then, she looks at their intertwined hands and her smile softens. “El is fine.”
“You sure?” El nods. “Okay. I like El.”
She tells him furthermore about what her mother went through in the Lab. He sounds genuine when he asks about his mother’s wellbeing and it makes her heart squeeze. “Yes, she’s as fine as she can be. Aunt Becky said so.” He nods satisfied.
They talk more about Kali and her group and how she wished she had a closed knitted friendship like theirs, and he mentions that the Party tries to be the closest to that. She believes him, yet she’s not sure. (Her and Max still have their problems, jealousy and resentment and she knows it’s misplaced but it feels too late) She mentions the guy with the Mohawk and it fascinates him for some reason, she laughs as he explains that it would be cool to have one too, to which El tells him that would look weird; Mike doesn’t say anything, just stares fondly at her laughing face.
When it quietened, El began talking again. “Papa.. He, he used to force me into stalking the Russians,” a pause. “And once he made me kill a cat. I refused and I was sent into this… room. A closet. Dark. He often does.”
A dead silence followed, El doesn’t realize she’s in a trance. Reliving those cruel moments in water, in silence and the harsh words of Dr. Brenner. “El?” His soft tone breaks her out of the memories, she looks startled but quickly regains posture.
After a second, she continues telling him about Papa. It’s rough at first; remembering, but El goes through with it. Then, she tells him the truth; she feels like the monster for opening that gate in the first place. Mike frowned tensely, like she was lying; but she knows the truth.
She is the monster.
“You’re not the monster, El. What are you saying?”
It hits her right then and there that, a while ago, she said the same thing; she told him that she was the one who opened the gate, resulting in Will being taken. Yet, out of attachment, adoration or sheer friendship, he tells her the exact same thing as now.
He held her hands tighter, resulting in his knuckles shaking a bit; that, only if you looked closely. And El looked very close at his hands, noticed the difference between his and hers. Where hers are warm, his are cold. Her hands are softer and taken care of; years of labour and exploitation of her powers preventing her from ever fully taking care of herself, until she met Hopper and the others, and now she takes extra care. His hands are rough from years of childhood evident in them. El is almost envious.
“Still feel like— like it’s my fault. Cannot help it.”
Mike’s frown dissolves into a concerned face.
“Okay. But you know it’s not right?”
“Kind of.”
“El,...”
“I can’t help it, Mike.”
“I know.” He pulls her knuckles up to his mouth and gently leaves a fleeting kiss on the edges of her knuckles. El lets out an exhale, a sort of acknowledgment, and looks away shyly. She watched men on TV doing it to their women, but until now, has never experienced it herself. El definitely likes it, though.
El can sense Mike smiling at her. It prompts her to look at him. “I like you a lot.”
Her cheeks heat up a bit. “I like you, too,” comes the quiet reply. She likes him a lot.
And if he can like her as much as she likes him despite knowing her flaws, then maybe she can like herself, too?