Mike Schmidt x Reader

Lost and Found - GN!Reader

A lot of this chapter is vaguely based on personal experience so I apologize if it doesn't really match up to yours

Your family was always close to the Schmidts when you were little. You were neighbors afterall, and neighbors with similarly-sized children were bound to be friends eventually. You and Mike were the ones close in age, but you let Garrett play with you most of the time because plenty of games were more fun with three people.

Friend-families with children also meant plenty of camping trips together.

Camping trips that could go wrong.

You didn't quite understand the panic as it was happening, only understanding that what should've been another lunch at your own campsite had turned into your parents dashing over to where the Schmidts were set up followed by a lot of shouting. You and Mike were left at their campsite under your mom's watchful (but nervous) eye as the other three parents left to shout Garrett's name and ask frantic questions.

"He's gone." he mumbled, eyes watering.

"Mike, honey-" Your mom tried to reach across the table for Mike's hand, which he flinched away from, pulling away from you too.

"He's gone and it's my fault!" He sniffled, running back to his tent, leaving you and your mom alone at the picnic table with the abandoned food. You tried to go to his tent and offer comfort, knocking your 'secret knock' on the outside before he shouted at you to go away.

You didn't see much of Mike after that. Your parents had a hushed conversation outside the tent late at night when they thought you were sleeping, and later you'd swear you'd heard one of Mike's parents too, before leaving early the next day. You'd asked questions. Of course you had. You were meant to be camping for a long weekend, not leaving after the first full day of being out there. And why weren't the Schmidts leaving with you? Your parents had told you they'd explain later. Your little kid self had missed the way your dad's hands were gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white or how your mom's voice shook when she tried to get you to calm down.

Mike avoided you when they did come back. Knocks on the door to play were answered by a strange woman who snapped at you to go home, immediately deterred by the strange smell despite how much you missed your best friend. You wouldn't even see him outside anymore if your parents let you go out. You tried to make friends with other kids in the neighborhood, but most of them were older than you and didn't want to play your games like Mike had, leaving you to whatever you had in your room and the sparse backyard. When you tried to approach your parents about it, they just said they were going through a 'hard time.'

You saw even less of Mike once the family moved out of your neighborhood and into one a little further away, into a smaller house that your parents wouldn't let you go to by yourself. The few times you did go with your parents, it was mostly sitting around while they talked and Mike refused to leave his room. You tried to talk to him once, using the secret knock you'd developed, only to be met with silence. Even then, the pitying looks from your parents as you returned to the living room had been enough to stop requesting visits, no matter how much it hurt that Mike didn't want to see you anymore.

You still went to the same school, but he wouldn't talk to you there either. He wouldn't talk to anyone. As much as it hurt, you eventually made new friends and felt the ache fade. You tried reaching out one last time when you heard about his mom, but he just pulled further away, eventually dropping off your radar entirely by the time senior year came around.

You didn't learn what had really happened as kids until you somehow stumbled across the article going through a stack of your dad's old newspapers, but by then it was too late. Mike had disappeared and you weren't even sure where to start if you wanted to find him.

You'd never expected to run into Mike again at your job at the library, helping run a couple of the programs that parents would enroll their kids in over the summer to keep them busy, but here you were.

You were helping with an art contest at the moment, helping kids title and sign their drawings as they turned them in. There were multiple age brackets, all to be judged by you and your colleagues, with various different small prizes.

A girl with (shockingly familiar) brown hair bounced up to your desk, clutching a piece of paper. You smiled, getting a small glimpse of a drawing with a little girl and a taller man holding hands, presumably her and her dad. "Hi, were you hoping to enter the contest?" She nodded, putting the drawing on the desk, bouncing on her toes slightly. "Honey, I need a parent or guardian to help with the paperwork-"

"Oh, he's coming." She smiled, turning at the sound of her name.

"Abby?" You almost immediately saw the resemblance between the two as he came in, a strange familiarity pushing at the back of your mind. He visibly relaxed when he noticed her over by the counter, half shuffling over. "Abs you can't just run ahead-"

"Miiiiiike," she whined playfully, "I've been waiting all week-"

Your heart jumped in your chest slightly as you tried to get a better look at him, trying to figure out if it really was the same Mike or just an example of a common name. Afterall, you'd met plenty of Michaels who also used the shortened version. He looked up at you, brows furrowing slightly as he looked over your face, Abby looking between the two of you.

"I- uh, here's the paperwork-" You quickly fished it out from under the desk, breaking the intense staring contest you'd accidentally started. "We mostly just need names, the artist's age, and phone number. As well as the piece and a name for it, of course."

Mike took a pen from the cup, scribbling in what information he could as Abby peaked up at it, barely able to see the top of the counter. You took the distraction as a chance to look over his face a bit better, feeling a slight pain in your chest at the deep bags under his eyes. Time had definitely not been kind to him. Abby pulled over a step stool, using it to grab the paperwork and a pen to carefully sign her own name and add the name of the piece. You glanced at the signature, heart jumping into your throat at the last name.

"Mike...?" His eyes snapped to yours, confusion flashing across his face before recognition seemed to set in, shoulders straightening slightly. You couldn't help the smile that crossed your face, "How- it- it's been a while."

His face shifted, looking a little more guilty as he mumbled, "Yeah, uhm..."

"You had a kid...?"

"No-" He realized he reacted a bit too quickly, glancing at Abby before sighing softly. "Younger sister."

"Oh! Where's... what about your dad..?" You saw his jaw clench, staring at a stain on the counter. "I'm- I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, I didn't expect you to know-" His expression softened, guilt settling in again. "We didn't exactly talk much after..."

You hummed, smiling sympathetically. "It was a lot to go through, especially with how young we were." Abby slid you the finished paperwork, her drawing underneath. You thanked her gently, looking over it quickly before adding it into the contest for her age group. "Well, you know where to find me now, I don't want you disappearing again."

You watched as it set in, a small smile appearing on his face. "And you have my phone number, so-" His face flushed slightly, Abby giggling beside him as she hopped off the step stool.

"So I'll see you around?"

He nodded, taking one of Abby's hands as they left. She waved at you over her shoulder, still giggling.