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“You okay?” Dustin asked, settling beside Steve on the Byers’ sagging porch.
Steve kept his eyes fixed on the western tree-line, branches silhouetted by the setting sun. It had been a week. A week of funerals, and questions, and new non-disclosure agreements. They’d come together, the place where things always seem to start, but now were ending. A chance to deal with their grief away from eyes of those who didn’t understand, didn’t know the whole story, and would never know why Steve would have any connection with the Chief of Police. A chance to fill in the missing pieces, to analyze, and to say goodbye.
Eleven had told them everything she knew and it wasn’t Hopper’s death that had driven Steve outside, away from everyone else, to wrestle with his feelings.
For once, Dustin hadn’t filled the silence up with incessant babble, waiting patiently, trusting that Steve would talk eventually. The trust did him in.
“I don’t know why I’m having such a hard time with this,” he mumbled.
“Which part?”
“We weren’t friends. We didn’t like each other, I don’t think. But we got to a point, after everything . . . we respected each other, I think. I wish . . . I wish I’d known. Known him.”
“Billy.”
“Yeah. After everyone, after all our losses. He’s the one I can’t accept. It would be so much easier if he was just an asshole. If he wasn’t so confusing.”
Dustin nodded, sitting in silence for a time, and then finally murmured, “Billy is Boromir.”
Steve turned his head to gape at him. “Who?”
“Fuck, you’re a heathen.”
Flapping his hand at the criticism and well-aware that he wasn’t nearly nerdy enough to follow Dustin’s train of thought, Steve demanded, “Explain.”
“I don’t have time to explain all of the mythology of Middle Earth or the Tolkien oeuvre, because some of us currently have lives and girlfriends, so I’ll try to summarize.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Please do.”
“Boromir was a noble man with an abusive father,” Dustin started.
“Henderson, I swear to god . . .”
“Just listen, okay? His family was noble, but they weren’t kings. There was another man in the story who was the king, but he was without a crown, hidden.”
King Steve
“Who was the king?” Steve asked, intrigued in spite of himself.
“His name was Aragorn. He was the true king and he and Boromir were . . . I guess you could say brothers in arms. They were both warriors, sworn to protect the weaker members of the party.”
Feeling his throat start to close up, Steve could only nod, waiting for Dustin to continue.
“Because of the throne issue, Boromir resented Aragorn, but loved him at the same time, because Aragorn was just that awesome.”
But he didn’t love me, Steve thought in protest.
“Boromir fell under the influence of great evil and tried to attack a member of the party. But he repented and gave his life to protect those smaller and weaker from the evil. Aragorn found him as he was dying and forgave him. He let Boromir go with a blessing and a kiss.”
Steve gritted his teeth against the sobs that wanted to break free. He felt Dustin’s gaze on him, but he was past pretending around the kid and let the tears spill out of his eyes.
“Boromir was a good man who couldn’t cope with evil beyond his understanding. He did bad things, but he died a hero. And his heroism ending up saving his brother. In most stories, the bad guys die and the good guys live. After Boromir repented, he should have lived. But he didn’t and his death is hard to bear.”
After clearing his throat several times, Steve finally managed, “I didn’t get to give him my blessing. Or say goodbye.”
Or kiss him, his brain supplied, completely unhelpfully and surprisingly.
“You still can,” Dustin said. “He’s gone, but it can mean something to you.”
Tilting his face upwards to look at the stars just coming out in the twilight, Steve pressed two fingers to his lips and then raised his hand towards the sky in salute.
“Farewell, Billy Hargrove. I wish . . .” Steve paused. He didn’t know what to wish. There were so many things he could say to Billy. His emotions surrounding Billy were too tangled up with regret and other things which he couldn’t name.
“I wish we could have been brothers in arms. You were always good in a fight. Safe journey, wherever you are.”
Beside him, Dustin raised his face to the stars. “Be at peace, son of Gondor.”