Chapter Text
The last person Steve expected to show up at his house on a Friday night was Billy Hargrove. But here he was, sitting in front of Steve’s now-open door with his head between his knees. Steve tentatively put one foot out the door, then stopped.
“Billy?” he said quietly.
Billy’s head moved to the side ever so slightly. He mumbled something unintelligible.
Steve finally stepped all the way outside to crouch in front of Billy. Part of him wanted to scream and curse, to let Billy know how pissed off he still was that Billy came so close to killing him a couple weeks ago. It’d taken all his self-control not to explode every time they crossed paths in school.
The other part of him, the part that was in the here-and-now, was almost afraid to get this close to Billy. It wasn’t that he thought Billy was going to attack him again; there was just something off about this whole situation.
“Billy, look at me,” Steve said, a bit more forcefully. “Tell me what you’re doing here. Is Max missing?”
Billy was silent and unmoving for a second, then he lifted his head and looked at Steve. His gaze was unfocused, though, as if he wasn’t actually seeing Steve. A big bruise was blossoming down the left side of his face.
“No,” Billy replied, his voice hoarse and a little slurred. “She’s at a friend’s for the night. I just- I just didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
Steve studied Billy’s face for a moment, realizing just how resigned he looked. This Billy wasn’t a threat to him. Steve sighed before straightening up.
“Can you stand?” he asked.
Billy nodded after a second. It took him a few moments to stand up without falling over, and even then he was still wobbly on his feet. Steve caught him by the elbow.
“Did you drive here drunk?” Steve asked, leaning in just a bit to catch a whiff of alcohol on Billy’s breath.
Billy jerked his elbow out of Steve’s grasp. “Don’t. Please. I don’t want any more fighting.”
Steve bit his tongue and stepped aside, waving Billy inside. The house was quiet- his parents were gone for the next few foreseeable nights- and he kind of appreciated that at this moment. He didn’t want to have to explain the drunk guy showing up at midnight. Steve shut the door and steered Billy to the living room couch.
Billy sat down heavily and put his head in his hands. Steve sat on the edge of the coffee table, waiting for Billy to speak.
When it became clear Billy wasn’t going to say anything, Steve spoke. “Are you going to tell me what happened? Like who you got into a fight with?” He waved at his own face.
“I didn’t fight anyone,” Billy mumbled into his hands before dropping them and leaning back into the couch. He wouldn’t look at Steve. “My dad gets… angry sometimes. And he likes to take it out on me. Happy now?”
Steve gazed at Billy for a long time and then dropped his gaze to the floor. He looked back up when Billy started to talk again.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, as if he was struggling to get the words out. “About, you know, the whole thing that happened where I almost- when I fought you. I was already angry and upset, and then when I found Max with you and the other boys, I got even more upset. I know I’m never earning any awards for ‘best step-brother,’ but that doesn’t mean that I’ve never cared about Max.”
“Have you apologized to Lucas?”
“No. But I will.”
Steve nodded as he rubbed his hands on his thighs. “Alright. Good. I think we have some extra blankets if you want to stay here for the night. You can crash on the couch.”
Billy’s jaw clenched for a half-second. “Thanks.”
Steve stood up and went to search the hall closet for a blanket. He found two and brought both the Billy along with a pillow. There was no ceremony, just Billy nodding his thanks and then Steve heading up to his room.
Steve rolled onto his bed and wrapped himself up in his covers. He shut his eyes and tried to ignore the gnawing feeling in his gut that felt a lot like nervousness. Billy would be gone by the morning, and then they’d never talk about this night again.
***
It was dark. Steve blinked over and over again, but nothing in his field of vision changed. He started to crawl forward, the ground beneath his hands giving way to his weight in a strange way. He felt like he should know this place, but his mind wouldn’t quite let him know what it was.
Something wrapped itself around his ankle, tightening like an iron vice, holding him in place no matter how much he tugged at it. Steve felt his chest constricting in panic. He was back in the underground tunnels. But how? He couldn’t remember. He could barely even find it in himself to breath as more and more tentacles wrapped themselves around him. They were shaking him like he was a toy to be played with, like he was nothing.
Steve sat up suddenly, light stinging his eyes. He grabbed onto a tentacle wrapped around his arm and-
“Steve, shit, let go. Nancy’s on the phone for you.”
Steve took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the light. He could feel himself soaked in sweat. Eventually, his own room came into focus. Billy was standing over him, one of his wrists trapped in Steve’s grip, and the other hand holding out the phone to him. The bruise on the side of his face had darkened overnight.
It had only been a dream. Just a bad dream.
Steve let go of Billy and took the phone from him without a word. Billy gave him an inquiring look, then left the room.
“Nancy?” Steve said, cradling the phone gently, afraid to get too much sweat on it.
“Hey, Steve,” she replied. “Was that Billy that answered your phone?”
“Yeah, he, uh, came over to apologize for, you know, beating me up.” Steve hoped that was an explanation she’d take.
“Oh, I see,” Nancy said. “So, um, I know this is kind of weird for me to call you and I’m sorry for that, but I think I may have left my favorite sweater at your house. Is there any way that I could come pick it up? Or maybe you can just give it to me at school on Monday. It’s the pink one with the kind of flowery design at the bottom.”
Steve rubbed at his face. He still felt a dull ache whenever he saw Nancy, and hearing her talk to him made it worse. “Yeah, I’ll try to find it and bring it to you on Monday.”
“Thanks.” Nancy paused. “I hope we’re not in a totally bad place or anything. Mike and his friends like having you around.”
“Yeah, no. We’re not in a bad place. I, um, I have to go, Nance. I’ll talk to you later.”
There was another pause before Nancy responded. “Okay. Talk to you later.”
Steve heard her hang up. He stayed where he was for a long minute before heaving out a sigh. He slipped out of bed and changed into dry clothes. He headed downstairs, listening for any sign of Billy. Steve hadn’t heard him leave, but he’d been a bit distracted on the phone.
He found Billy in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water. Billy fixed Steve with a blank look as he set his glass down on the counter.
“Didn’t take you for the kind of guy to have nightmares.” Billy tapped his fingers on the counter briefly. “I saw. Whatever that thing- that beast- was in that kid’s fridge, I mean. Is that what you were dreaming about?”
Steve froze. “I don’t-”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Harrington. I know what I saw.”
“Then why didn’t you confront me about it sooner?”
“I was keeping my distance. Didn’t need my sister cracking my kneecaps.” Billy scrunched his nose as he shot a look at the floor.
Steve sucked in his lower lip, trying to think of what to say. “Just don’t worry about the Demodog, okay? We handled everything.”
“’Demodog?’ Seriously?” Billy leaned back on the counter, as if trying to take all of Steve in at once. “You’re batshit crazy, you know that? You can’t just expect me to pretend like I didn’t find a dead monster in a fridge.”
“Can you just trust me on this? I get that we’re far off from being friends, but I’m telling you that it’s best for you if you let this go.” Steve felt like he was two steps away from actually begging. He knew that the more people who knew the truth about what happened in Hawkins, the more dangerous things would become.
“I need you to tell me more than that; I need you to tell me what the fuck is going on in this town.”
“Is that why you came here last night? Because you thought you could harass information out of me in the morning? Or maybe you came here because you don’t-”
“Don’t finish that sentence, Harrington,” Billy snarled. “Whatever jab you want to take at me and my life, I’ll make sure to hit you back twice as hard.”
Steve opened his mouth, then closed it as his brain tried to supply him with things to say. He inhaled deeply and moved to grab Billy’s glass off the counter. He placed it in the dishwasher, then turned to face Billy, who had been watching him with a smug look the entire time.
Steve gripped the counter with one hand. “Why do you hate everyone so much? Last night, you actually seemed like you could be a decent person. But I guess it must’ve just been the alcohol talking.”
Billy swallowed hard as the arrogant look on his face slid off. It was replaced by misery, and then, even faster, anger. He shoved away from the counter and stalked to the front door. Steve followed behind him at a distance, watching the rigid line of Billy’s back.
Billy flung the door open. He was halfway out the door before he stopped and spun around to face Steve. He pointed an angry finger at Steve, looking like he was ready to yell something obscene. But then he deflated a bit, the fury on his face warring with something like grief.
“I don’t want to be like him,” Billy whispered fiercely. He turned and walked out the door, leaving Steve standing uselessly in the middle of the room, head reeling at how quickly everything had turned sour.
The sound of Billy’s Camaro starting up jarred Steve back into reality. He walked back to the kitchen as the car’s roar faded into the distance. He ran a hand through his hair, processing what had happened. Steve could only guess that Billy had been referring to his dad before he walked out the door. It was something that he wished he could ask about.
If anything, Steve would probably end up avoiding Billy as much as he could. It would be difficult with basketball practice, but he’d manage. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other since the incident at Will’s house- not until last night.
Steve shook his head as he opened the fridge, staring at the few things left in there. Everything was getting too complicated for him, and he wished he could pause time so that he could catch up to it all.
***
On Monday, when Steve pulled into the school parking lot, he was admittedly relieved when he didn’t see Billy standing in his usual spot by his Camaro, smoking a cigarette. Now he only had to worry about Nancy. He’d decided this morning, after tossing his room to find her sweater, that he’d make this encounter as short as possible.
Steve turned off his car and gave his steering wheel a pat. The past few weeks had felt empty without Nancy by his side. She’d always pushed him to be better, to open up, and right now he was wishing he could confide in her about everything that he’d been experiencing. Instead, he had to put on a brave face as he stepped out of his car and scanned the parking lot for Jonathan’s car.
He spotted the car a few spaces away, and also spotted Nancy and Jonathan sitting in it. Nancy was laughing at something Jonathan was saying. She looked… happier now than she had in the past few months. Steve wanted to feel resentful towards Jonathan, but honestly he couldn’t find it in himself.
Steve pushed his thoughts away and walked over to them. He leaned down to tap on the passenger-side window. Nancy jumped a little, then relaxed when she saw him, and rolled the window down.
“I found your sweater,” Steve said. It came out sounding a little lame. He pulled her sweater out of his bag and handed it to her, then stood up straight to leave.
“Steve, wait,” Jonathan called out.
Steve crouched back down.
Jonathan continued talking. “Will is having a birthday party next Saturday and he’d like you to come. It’d be in the afternoon. I can get you more details later if you want.”
Steve was silent for a moment. “I, um, I think I can make it. Yeah, just let me know the time. Maybe also let me know what Will wants. I don’t want to be the fifth person to give him crayons or something.”
Jonathan nodded and smiled at him. He seemed relieved that Steve had accepted the invitation. Maybe this was his way of trying to make thing right with Steve.
“I’ll see you guys later,” Steve said, giving his own small smile. This time no one stopped him from walking away. He let out a sigh as he headed inside the school. That hadn’t been too bad. Maybe he really could be friends with them and have it not be super awkward.
Steve’s thoughts slammed to a halt when he caught sight of Billy shoving a textbook into his locker. Steve could still see the bruises on his face, though they weren’t as prominent as they had been a couple days ago.
Was it supposed to be like this forever? The two of them throwing digs at each other when they had to talk, and then avoiding each other the rest of the time? It didn’t seem like something like that could last.
Billy turned his head and caught Steve’s eye. He sent an unpleasant, shark-like smile Steve’s way. Steve ignored it and kept walking to class. He wouldn’t let Billy get under his skin any more than he already had.
That’s not to say that Steve wasn’t look over his shoulder for the rest of the day, wondering when he’d next see Billy. He managed to stay out of sight, but of course it was unavoidable that they’d be around each other during basketball practice after school.
Steve managed to keep his distance in the locker room, but it was a different story once they were on the court. Billy was an aggressive player, and that aggression got thrown at Steve most of the time. Steve had gotten good at taking it, but today was different. He was in a bad mood by the time their practice was halfway through, and it was only getting worse.
Billy had just body checked Steve to floor, and when Steve got back up he took the opportunity to shove Billy from behind. Billy stumbled forward a few steps, then spun around to shoot Steve a glare.
“What happened to planting your feet, Hargrove?” Steve taunted.
Billy rushed forward and grabbed Steve’s shirt, pulling him close. “You know what, Harrington? You’re a little shit. Don’t think for a second that I’ll take your bullshit.”
Steve wrenched Billy’s hand free of his shirt, and made his own move to grab Billy. Hearing the word ‘bullshit’ come from Billy’s mouth had only made him madder. Things quickly devolved into a shoving match that was only stopped by Coach forcing his way between them.
“You boys need to cool it,” Coach hissed at them.
“We’re fine,” Steve said. He flicked Billy a cold look.
“No, you’re not. Both of you go sit in the bleachers. Together. Talk it out instead of trying to kill each other.”
“Yes, Coach,” Billy said, flashing a charming smile. “I think we’re both capable of that. Aren’t we, Harrington?”
Steve stared at Billy, not kindly. “Yes. I think so, too.”
“Good,” Coach said, waving them off. “Now go. Get off my court.”
Steve took the lead, stalking off the court and sitting in the middle of the bleachers. Billy sat down next to him without a word, staring out at the court with a shadowed look on his face.
Steve turned to him, ready to get things off his chest. “You want to know why I’m angry?” He didn’t wait for a response. “It’s because of you continuously pulling this kind of shit on me. I get that you have a lot of anger. And I get that you have a crappy dad. Hell, you may even have a crappy step-mom for all I know. But that doesn’t make it okay for you to take things out on someone else.
“What I really want is to be not-enemies with you. We don’t have to be friends or anything close to it. It’d be great if we eventually could, but for now I’d settle with you not making me a target of your aggression. You can’t expect everyone you meet to put up with it. You have to find a new way to get rid of your anger or you’re going to end up self-destructing.” Steve took a moment to catch his breath.
Billy finally looked at Steve. Steve expect him to be furious, but his face was as resigned as it had been the night he’d shown up at Steve’s house. Steve fought down the impulse to look away. “I’m trying, alright?” Billy took a breath and looked down at his hands, obviously straining to get his next words out. “I went to my first therapy session yesterday. I’m supposed to do these exercises to help keep my emotions in check, or something like that. I’m just afraid that my dad is going to find out. He hates the idea of ‘getting help from a professional.’ Thinks it’s weak and whatnot.”
Now it was Steve’s turn to look down at his hands. He contemplated on what to say. “That’s brave of you,” he said slowly. “I had no idea you were doing that. Which I guess is the point.” The bad mood he’d been in was dissipating quickly.
“Sorry about… everything.” Billy’s leg had started to bounce up-and-down erratically. “This is who I’ve been for years and it’s going to take some time to change. And I want to change. If I don’t, I’m heading down the same path as my dad.”
Steve licked his lips. “I’m sorry, too. For egging you on like I did.”
“Don’t apologize. This is on me.”
Steve lifted his head to gaze at Billy, who looked disgruntled. He opened his mouth to speak but Coach interrupted him, calling the two of them back onto the court. Billy immediately stood up and started to make his way down the bleachers. Steve caught up to him, touching his shoulder to get his attention. Billy stopped but didn’t turn around, cocking his head to let Steve know he was listening.
“Hey, um,” Steve said, “the next time you get drunk and start thinking about driving somewhere, call me instead and I’ll pick you up. Got it?”
Billy didn’t respond for a moment, still looking out at the court. Then he tugged lightly at the bottom of his shorts and said roughly, “Got it.”