The angsty Micheal In The Bathroom one shot. Every one shot book has one. They just do. So here's my one

Also I completely rewrote this because I hated hated h a t e d the original version but I actually really like this one
•••

Today is wonderful for Micheal. Wonderful. Fantastic. Incredible. In fact, everything is going fucking amazing tonight.
And wanna know why?
Let me enlighten you.

First: his best friend has been acting super fucking weird for the past while

Second: when he tried help his friend by going to a social setting, he got called a fucking loser

Third: Jeremy fucking abandoned him.

Fourth: It finally hit him; Micheal Mell is a loser. Just look at him. He's curled up on the cold bathroom floor at the biggest most exclusive party of the fall.

Fifth: He could stay right here or disappear, and nobody would even notice at all

Hot tears streak bitterly down his face. Each shake and sob digs the pain deeper into his heart. His chest is collapsing with every shaky breath. And for some reason, he thinks that crying there will make him feel better.

His shaking hands check his phone. What for do you ask?
Anything. Maybe he's hoping for a text from Jeremy, saying that he's sorry or he loves him or something. Any sort of indication that their friendship has hope.
But, of course, there's nothing.
Micheal laughs dryly, the strangled sound getting caught in his throat.

But his pity party is interrupted by screams. Not screams of excitement or laughter, or even drunk girls trying to sing Whitney. No these are screams of fear.
He slowly gets to his feet, looking to the door between himself and chaos. It's screams. Definitely screams.

He splashes water on his red face, knowinghe has no need to wait for the tears to dry. He grabs the silver handle but it burns his hand. He yelps, leaping back. His hand pounds and scars.
It's hot! The handle is hot! Why is it hot?

Fire. The handle is on fire. The house is in fucking fire.
THIS IS WHY I STAY AT HOME IN BED.

Micheals breathing quickens. Panic smashes into him like a wrecking ball. His brain manages to form a coherent thought: get out of the bathroom.

He snaps his head around the room, spotting a window above the toilet. It's not huge, but he should be able to squeeze through. He stands on the closed toilet, grabbing the tiny window handle. His knuckles turn white as he tries to open it. Shit. It won't budge.

He's going to have to smash it open. Smoke has started to infiltrate the bathroom, stabbing Micheal's lungs with each breath. He needs to find something that'll open the window.

Shampoo? Not strong enough.
Bar of soap? Too slippery to hold.

But the search is ended when the room becomes too smokey to see. Micheal coughs through the black cloud, his eyes watering.   The room starts to swirl. Everything is hot, like the flames are on him.

This is what it feels like to die. This is it. This is the end.

He has to go down fighting. He can't let his death be as weak as his life. But his body gives up on him. Micheal hits the ceramic floor.

•••

Heartbeat monitors are loud. They fill Micheals head. It's all he dreams about anymore. Smoke, screaming, strong arms and the steady beat of heart monitors.

The heartbeat monitors follow him throughout the day. The sound beats like an internal baseline at the back of his head. It follows him as he wakes up in the pristine hospital, as the doctors examine and feed him, and as his doctor evaluated his condition.

"Good morning Micheal. How are we feeling today?" Dr Mendel asks, pulling up Micheals chart.

The heart monitor beeps in his head.
"We're feeling" he says, half smiling.

"Well hopefully you'll be feeling happy in a minute, because based on how you're healing,I think you're ready to be discharged" The doctor says in the most casual way possible.

Micheal looks at him blankly. How can Mendel be so . . . nonchalant about Micheal being able to leave the hospital. The hospital that has served as his home for months.

"Are you serious?" Micheal says.

Mendel smiles.
"I'm not just serious, I'm confidant. You can go home Micheal Mell"

You can go home Micheal Mell. There's still a few weeks of school left, so he's going back to study. He'll see everyone again. God, he wonders how everyone's doing.

Brooke was betrayed.

Jake's house was fucking burnt down.

Rich got hurt more than anymore, literally. He's just a few rooms down on the same burn ward as Micheal. The poor guy is covered in scars and pain. Not to mention the mental toll the whole ordeal took on him.

He was admitted into the hospital still screaming about Mountain Dew Red. It took about two weeks for the doctors to actually give it to him. Rich had to spend two weeks in agonising pain from the fire with an abusive Squip screaming in his head.

Micheal winces just thinking of what rich must be going through.

Mendel takes a few minutes to examine Micheal's burns. His arms are marked, so is the side of his stomach and his calfs. The worst burn, however, is down the left side of his face. It paints down his head like a lightning strike. Though it doesn't hurt, he winces as Mendel examines the scar.

"You're looking good Micheal" Mendel says truthfully, making some marks on Micheal's chart. "You're going to be home free by the end of the day"

Micheal lies back on the hospital bed with a happy sigh. His breathing syncs with the heartbeat in his head.

"Do you want to call your moms or shall I?" Mendel asks.

"Neither- actually. I'll surprise them by randomly showing up. Don't give me that look doctor. I'm legally old enough to discharge myself" Micheal states.

"You're right you're right. Organise a lift home though- I don't care if it's not with your moms but I'm not letting you walk or take public transport. Call a lift. I'll be making sure that you get one home" The Doctor says leaving the hospital room to get the discharge papers.

Micheal picks up his phone, something that he has gotten out of the habit of using. He scrolls through his practically empty contacts, stopping in the middle of the list.
A year ago, he knows exactly who he would call. His own dad, his uncle, his third mom. Mr Heere would drive up to the hospital at the drop of a hat. Hell, Micheal knows that he still would. All Micheal has to do is call him.

But he can't.

Because Mr Heere's son is the reason Micheal was in that bathroom. And Micheal can't even chance facing him.

But if he wants to go home, he needs a lift. Mr Heere is the only non-mom adult in his phone.

With shaking fingers, he reluctantly calls him.

"Hey Micheal! How are you doing? I heard you were in hospital, how are you feeling?" He answers immediately.

"I'm good, Mr Heere" every word croaks out of his suddenly scratchy throat. "Actually, I'm getting discharged today and I need a lift. I would call my moms but I want to surprise them"

"Don't say a word. I'll be outside in an hour" and he hangs up.

•••

Before Micheal goes to the front doors to wait for Mr Heere, he stops off at another hospital room.
He stands at the door, backpack on his back with a friendly smile.

"Hey Richie" he says.

Rich grins at his from the hospital bed. He has come far in terms of healing, with only a few bandages wrapped around his body. But his still has a long way to go mentally. As soon as he's healed up, he's going to get a psychiatric evaluation.

Micheal is heartbroken. Heartbroken knowing that he can't be here to help Rich on the rest of his long and painful journey. They both have been through so much together, talking through sleepless nights and comforting each other through burn treatment. He is heartbroken to leave that behind.

"What'th wrong Micheal? All due rethpect but you look like thit" Rich laughs.

Micheal smiles again.
"I'm going home today"

Rich is blank for a moment, before breaking into a 'whoop!'
"Dude! That'th fantathtic!"

"Yeah it's great. Mr Heere is on his way to pick me up now" Micheal says.

Rich furrows his brows a little.
"Thpeaking of Heere, are you going to fathe Jeremy?"

Micheal shakes his head.
"I don't want to think about that right now. All I'm focusing on now is seeing my Moms, sleeping in my own bed and visiting you whatever chance I get"

Richie does that iconic gay hand gesture you know the one.
"Oh Mikey you flatter me"

"Shut up you know you'll miss me"

"Of courthe I will. Now get over here and give me a hug"

Micheal walks over to the bed, hugging Rich as tight as he can without hurting him.
"I'll see you at visiting hours?" Micheal promises.

"You better" Rich says into Micheal's shoulder. "Everyone else on this burn ward is boring as shit"

Micheal leaves with a smile before they both start crying. He's leaving his only friend, just like his only friend left him. Shut up Micheal don't think like that. You're going home now. Just enjoy the moment.

Micheal meets Mendel by the front door. They chat casually for a few minutes before a familiar, broken down car pulls up at the front doors.

"Thanks for everything doctor" Micheal says genuinely.

"If you ever get burned again, I'll always be here to help" Mendel jokes, clapping Micheal on the shoulder.
"Seriously though. You went through something . . . traumatic. And I am also a licensed psychiatrist. If you ever need to talk, I am here. Professionally and personally"

"Thanks Mendel" Micheal steps out of the hospital for the first time in forever. He throws the bag in Mr Heere's trunk before climbing into the front seat.

"Hi Mr Heere, it's good to see you again" he keeps his eyes down as he sits down and puts on his seatbelt.

When he turns to look at Mr Heere, he sees that it's not Mr Heere. Jeremy sits in the driver seat, gripping the steering wheel and looking st Micheal with sorrowful eyes.

Micheal is stunned. They both just stare at each other for a minute, before Jeremy finally breaks the silence.

"Dad couldn't make it. He had a business call. I said I'd pick you up" his voice is thick and a little deeper than Micheal remembers.

"Okay" Micheal looks ahead. "Thanks for taking me home"

He can feel Jeremy's eyes on his face, tracing over the giant burn.

"Micheal-"

"Please don't say anything. Just take me home" Micheal says quietly, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

He feels the car judder to life and drive away from the hospital. He would fall asleep if the heartbeat in his head wasn't going a hundred miles an hour. The car turns are drives before juddering to a stop. When Micheal opens his eyes however, he's not in front of his house.

He's parked on the side of a random road. Jeremy turns off the ignition, turning to Micheal.

"I'm not going to make excuses. I just want to try and clear the air. Micheal . . . I-I am so sorry. I'm the one who took the Squip and took you to the party and called you a loser and made you go into that bathroom. I'm the one to blame here and I'm so so so so sorry. I don't expect your forgiveness I don't deserve it. But you deserve an apology and I . . ."
Jeremy stops with a sob, slapping his hand over his mouth and crying into it.

Micheal bites back his own tears, twisted memories from that night echoing in his head.
"I'm not . . . ready to forgive you. I believe you are genuinely sorry and you feel guilty for what happened. Please understand that what you did hurt me so bad and dude I want to forgive you and move on more than anything but it's going to take time. I do miss you Jeremy and I love you so much"

Jeremy breaks down.
"I love you too Micheal" he manages to say his whole body shaking.

Micheal looks to him with a teary smile.
"Dude you are in no condition to drive"

Jeremy laughs.
"Fuck off"

•••
Yes I rewrote this whole one shot. The last time I wrote it, it felt very half assed and it felt like I was romanticising the trauma between Micheal and Jeremy.
So this is a rewrite that I think is better

- Avery