Work Text:
Billy doesn’t feel fully at home with Joyce and Hopper until Christmas Day. He’s been feeling like a dog that someone took enough pity on to take home from the pound.
Sure, he’s had fun baking gingerbread cookies with Joyce while Steve ordered them around the kitchen, and decorating the Christmas tree Jonathan helped Hopper bring home. Max came over for that one, and she and El dragged him up from where he’d been sitting with Jonathan on the couch, and when Hop came back from work he’d lifted Will up so he could put the star on top. Joyce had a bit of a distant look when they took out the Christmas lights, but Jonathan touched her arm and she seemed to come back to herself. Billy remembers hearing something about Will communicating through lightning back when he was stuck in the Upside Down, but when he looks over Will’s beaming.
Still, when he gets the chance to get him alone, when the girls are arguing about which ornament to put where, Billy nods at the lights and whispers “You okay?”
Will looks like he appreciates Billy asking, smiling a little in that gentle way of his, but he nods. “It’s fine. I kind of wanted to say we could put them up by the phone, you know, in case the bullshit’s calling us, but I don’t think mum would like that very much.” Billy gets it though, and they laugh a little, quiet enough the others don’t notice.
Still, it all feels temporary. He’s panicking about what he’ll do about college, because for all Hopper and Joyce are kind people, he doubts even they would appreciate him staying there when he’s 18 and graduated high school. Billy understood what this was the second he stood in court and heard the judge terminate Neil’s parental rights, heard the Chief agree to take him in. He’s got a couple of months here with people who won’t hurt him but he’s under no illusion that it’s more than that. Hopper asked him about what he’s going to do after high school, what his plans for college are, what he wants to study, what he wants to work as, and it was somehow worse and more nerve wracking than when Steve’s parents asked. He doesn’t know. But he knows what Hopper really meant. ‘How much longer will you need to stay here?’
He doesn’t believe they’ll throw him to the curb, but he knows this is a deal with an expiration date. They’ve created a family here, Hopper and Joyce. They’ve got Jonathan, and they’ve got two kids about to become real teenagers, and with all those two have been through Billy knows they’re going to need all the support they can get. There’s only so much love a person can give.
He goes to bed on Christmas Eve thinking about that, anxiety churning in his gut about Christmas. He hopes they’ll like the gifts he got them, even though Steve payed for some of them.
Billy has money, but it’s money he’s been saving his whole life for when he graduates so he’d be able to escape Neil’s hell. And it’s not like it’s a lot of money, anyway, because Billy’s had to take care of a lot of his own expanses since he’d been younger than Max is now. And Billy may not be living with Neil anymore, but that doesn’t change the fact that Billy needs to be able to pack up and go as soon as possible. He can’t be a burden to them longer than he has to.
He lays awake for an hour before he decides to go out, sit on the porch for a while and contemplate his existence there instead, where there’s fresh air at least. And maybe the cold will make him fall asleep quicker when he gets back under his warm covers. Maybe. Hopefully.
Billy’s going to deny it until the day he dies, but he almost screams when he steps out of the house.
He’s been taken in by madmen. Weirdly sweet madmen, but madmen nonetheless. He’s starting to figure the talk he’d heard about Joyce being off her rocker had actually been true, just not in quite as disturbing a way as people had made it out to be. And Hopper’s utterly insane as well, no doubt about it. It’s the only explanation for what he finds the two of them doing.
Joyce is on the porch, holding a camera, and Hopper? Well, he’s coming around the side of the house, bent forward from the weight of the brown sack he’s got on his back, dressed in a full on Santa costume. Including a white curly wig and a white beard and a pillow under his red robes to make him look even fatter. Billy can’t help the grin that starts to form.
Joyce’s eyes are wide, looking a little panicked. “Don’t say anything! Don’t tell the others!”
Billy stares at her. “You do know we’re teenagers, don’t you? There’s no need for... whatever the hell this is.”
“It’s El’s second Christmas. The first one when it’s not just the two of us,” Hopper says, his voice muffled from behind the fake beard, and Billy understands.
He sighs, holds up a hand. “Carry on.”
He’s about to turn around, go back inside, when Joyce reaches for his hand. He has to fight with himself not to flinch and tense up, although he can’t help the small shiver that goes through him.
“Wait, Billy- Did you need something? What were you doing going outside? And... dressed like that?” He’s dressed in sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt, barefoot, had just gone up from his bed and wandered out to the porch.
“I just... needed some air. It’s okay,” he says, even though he doesn’t know if it really is, of it ever will be. Billy never really thought he’d live past eighteen, but now it’s looking more and more likely that he will, and he doesn’t know what the fuck he will do after that milestone.
“You should’ve at least grabbed a coat, sweetie!” Billy does his best to ignore how his eyes burn at the nickname.
“And shoes,” Hopper mutters, and Joyce gasps when she looks down at his feet. His nails are painted black from when he let El practice her nail polish skills two days ago.
“Billy!” Joyce admonishes, and looking at the two of them, about to take pictures to keep Santa alive for a girl who never got to experience any of it, both looking at him with parental worry, Billy is hit with the realisation that he really doesn’t belong here.
“Sorry,” he whispers, and goes back into the house, back to his warm bed, away from Hopper, and away from Joyce, and the kindness in their eyes.
—
When Billy wakes up the next morning, it’s to find a bunch of Christmas gifts wrapped and neatly placed under the tree. He brings his own out from his room, places them next to the others.
Joyce has prepared breakfast, pancakes and hot chocolate, and eggos for El, and when the girl comes in she hands her a photograph with a whispered “Look who I managed to snap a shot of last night”. El squeals in delight and rushes of to show Will. Joyce catches Billy’s look and gives him a soft smile. Billy has to hide his own small one behind the rim of his cup. Jonathan snorts at his mother when he comes in, having been stopped by El to look at the picture, and bumps Billy’s shoulder with a grin when he sits down.
Just as they’ve finished eating, Billy busy doing cleanup with Jonathan, the sound of a car pulling up comes from outside, and a minute later Max is rushing in and throwing herself at him. He pushed back into the counter, soapy water dripping from his raised hands to Max’ hair.
“Merry Christmas Billy!”
“Merry Christmas, shitbird,” he says and pats her hair with a wet hand. She lets out a shriek and moves away.
Steve comes in after her, laughing at the two of them. He kisses Billy’s cheek and Billy doesn’t miss the amused little smirk Jonathan throws their way. Months ago, Billy might’ve hit him for that. Now though, he just grins back and asks him if he’s jealous Nancy’s not coming over until tomorrow. Jonathan rolls his eyes and throws the dish towel in Billy’s face on his way out.
Steve laughs at him and pecks Billy’s nose when he reaches to pull it off of him.
“What are you two doing here?” Billy asks him, taking the towel and drying off his hands.
“Max’ mum’s working, something about extra pay since it’s Christmas and we wanted to see you.”
“Thought you were celebrating with your parents?” Billy knows it’s something Steve’s been looking forward to, because it’s all he’s been talking about for the last week.
“I am. Later. But first...” He turns around, goes over to the kitchen table where he’s apparently left a plastic bag, and shouts for Max while picking it up.
She comes running back in, and grabs the bag from him, reaching into it and pulling out a gift with red Christmas wrapping, little snowmen decorating the paper.
“Here,” she says, and Billy takes it with raised eyebrows.
“For me?”
“No, I just wanted you to hold it while I found the actual person I was going to give it to. Yes, it’s for you. From me and Steve.”
“And Robin and Jonathan,” Steve adds.
Billy takes a seat at the kitchen table while he unwraps it, and founds a little black book inside it. In silver marker, it says ‘Autumn 1985’ in swirly letters.
Billy opens it to find a picture of him and Steve kissing taped to black paper. It’s the photograph he remembers Max taking, in the doorway of Billy’s old bedroom on Cherry Lane, back when he’d just come back from the hospital. The following pages are filled with a bunch Robin must have taken that night at the Quarry, then there’s a few from Thanksgiving, one with Alexei and the kids and another one with Robin in between him and Murray, all three holding up their spiked hot chocolate towards the camera. Another one of Nancy’s napkin-turkeys. There’s two of Billy sleeping, first on the couch and next in Steve’s arms. Another one of him and Elena on the steps of the courthouse, and one more of Joyce hugging him that same afternoon, but Billy’s got his back to the camera and Joyce isn’t looking. He doubts she’d been aware of the picture. Next are a bunch that Jonathan must have taken, because they’re from the last week or so, photographs of cooking with Steve and Joyce, and decorating the tree, and El painting his nails.
He looks up to find the two of them staring at him, hopeful expressions on their faces. Billy smiles, feels his heart about to burst and drags Steve down so he can kiss him, quickly, before pulling Max in for a hug. She squeezes him back, and Billy doesn’t say anything when it makes his still healing rib ache.
“Thank you,” he says into her hair, loud enough that they’ll hear. “I’ve got you something, too.”
He takes the album with him, brings it back to his bedroom and puts it on his drawer. He takes two wrapped gifts with him back to the kitchen. On his way there, he finds Will and motions for him to come with.
“This one is from me, and Steve, and Will,” Billy says, and hands the bigger gift to Max. She literally jumps in the air when she unwraps it, and throws her arms around Billy’s neck, before reaching out to grab the shirts of the other two and pull them in as well. Billy’s had three hugs from Max in less than an hour. He thinks it must be a new record.
They’d gotten her a skateboard, a new one. Steve has payed for it, and then Billy had spent a couple hours with Will in the shed by the house, painting it. It’d been a nice bonding moment for the two of them.
Max fucks off with Will to show the others, and Billy’s left alone in the kitchen with Steve. He takes out the smaller gift and hands it to him.
Steve blinks when he opens it to find a notebook.
“It’s a...” Billy’s starts, suddenly feeling flustered for some unexplainable reason. “I noticed your cookbook was looking kind of full, and I thought... well, just look inside.”
Steve does so, opening it up and gasping a little, going through the first few pages one by one, then flipping through the rest a little quicker, because there’s lots of pages.
Billy’s taped a couple of his drawings to the first pages, portraits of Steve, and Robin, and the kids. And then on the following, in the corner below the lines for writing, he’s...
“Did you draw all of these?” Steve asks, finger pointing at a little sketch of tomatoes.
Billy nods, and Steve beams, his face filling up with so much tenderness.
“You’re so fucking amazing, love. God, Billy, I love you.”
—
Billy finally gets his snowball fight.
They divide themselves into teams, and Steve gives a little pout when Billy chooses Max and El over him.
Because Billy’s rib is still healing, but Billy refuses to have anyone go easy on him, Max and El spend the fight, the war, fiercely protecting him. When a snowball is about to just his midsection, El slows it down so it lands softer.
They build territories in the forest behind the house, make walls out of snow to hide behind and advance from.
In the end it’s not clear who won and who lost, but Billy’s on his back in the snow, laughing, and there are snowflakes fluttering through the air to land on his cheeks and get caught in his hair, and Steve kneels down by his head and kisses him upside down. Max and El drag Will and Jonathan down, and all six of them lie there making snow angels and it’s not California, but damn if it isn’t nice.
Eventually, right as the sun’s starting to set, Joyce comes out and calls them in, tells them Steve’s mum called and said she’s about to start the last bit of dinner.
They pile back into the house, and Joyce makes them all sit down and drink some more hot chocolate to warm up before she lets anyone leave. She drags Hopper out to the living room so they can join them.
“How you doing, Max?” Hopper asks once they’ve all settled down into their seats.
“Okay, I guess. Mum cries a lot.” She sees their faces, and is quick to explain. “She isn’t angry, or upset that Neil’s gone. Like, she knows it was the right thing to do. Told me she was proud of me, that I was braver than her.”
“You are braver than her,” Billy mutters, and Steve squeezes his hand.
“She just misses having someone, I think. She’s not good at being alone.”
“My parents are inviting everyone, parents included, to this, well, party, I think, I don’t know, on New Years. She’s welcome to attend,” Steve says, and Max looks a little brighter.
—
Joyce has them eat dinner after Steve has left with Max, and Billy’s still a little shell shocked at how easy they all interact with each other. He’s not used to it, but it’s nice. Even if he’s a little wary at how big a part of it he gets to take.
After dinner, they all pile up around the tree, and El puts a Santa hat on Hopper and pushes him to sit down closest to it, so he can read out the recipients names.
Billy’s a little too busy paying attention to how they react to his gifts, that he doesn’t really notice what they get from each other.
He’d gotten Will a sketchbook, and coloured pencils of what he believes is pretty good quality. He seems happy with them, at least. Billy counts himself lucky.
He hasn’t known them all long enough to be able to get them any sort of meaningful gifts, and it was hell to figure out what to get Hopper and Joyce. In the end, he went with Steve and they split the cost. A perfume for her and a new leather belt for him. Joyce immediately sprays some on herself, and Hopper nods and says “Thank you, kid” so Billy guesses its a success.
Jonathan had been easier. Billy might’ve been sneaking around in his room, looking through his music, before going out and buying something similar. He’s pleasantly surprised to say that Jonathan doesn’t have completely horrible taste.
He laughs a little when he opens it, and Billy gets it when he opens his own gift from Jonathan, and sees he’s also got him music. He shoots him a grin.
El’s whole face lights up when she opens hers, although Hopper looks slightly alarmed. Billy got her rollerblades. So she could zoom by with Max in the spring.
Steve got him one more gift, it turns out. It’s a blanket, like the ones he’s got at his place, that Billy fell in love with almost a whole year ago. His heart warms at the notion that Steve must have noticed how much Billy liked his goddamn blankets. Noticed it enough to remember.
Hopper hands him a big, soft gift next, and then he hands Will and Jonathan and El ones in similar shape and size. They open them at the same time, and it’s knitted sweaters. Billy’s got a palm tree on his.
“They’re from my mum,” Joyce says. “She knitted them for the four of you.”
Billy can’t believe Joyce’s mum, Will’s and Jonathan’s grandma, actually thought to include him in her gift-giving. He drags his current sweater off and pulls on his new one, Jonathan shooting him a look before doing the same, Will and El following suit.
“Remind me to get the camera later,” Joyce says to Hopper. “I need to get a picture of them and send it to mum.”
Finally, they get to the last gift. It’s small, thin, and Hopper hands it to Billy.
He opens it, gently, because it looks delicate, and when the paper’s gone he finds that it’s an envelope with his name on it. For some weird reason, Billy feels butterflies start to flutter in the pit of his stomach. Everyone’s gone silent around him, and it’s like the whole room’s holding its collective breath.
Billy slowly gets it open, and pulls out a thick paper, folded in half.
He unfolds it, and it’s filled with names and numbers. ‘Birth Parents:’ and his mum and Neil’s names. ‘Name of Child, Date of Birth, Child’s Sex, Child’s Place of Birth...’. And then:
“‘A-Adoptive Parents’...?” Billy can barely breathe. His hearts going like a hummingbird, like the Camaro’s engine, and Billy feels like he’s about to lose his balance even though he’s sitting down.
William Hargrove. Adoption Papers.
He’s going to start fucking crying.
Billy looks up, and right in his line of sight, Hopper sits with an arm around Joyce. She’s got her hands clasped, and both of them look so hopeful.
“We know it’s... We know it’s early, that you haven’t stayed with us for a long time, but you’re almost eighteen and we wanted to make sure it’s done before that, if you... Only if you want to, sweetie. We just- We want you to know that you have parents even after you’ve turned eighteen,” Joyce says.
Billy can’t help it. He lets out a tiny little sob and starts to cry.
El, and Will, and god, shit, even Jonathan, all move quickly and reach out to hug him, and Billy realises that he didn’t give them an answer, that he just started fucking crying and Hopper and Joyce are probably worried out of their minds but it’s all so overwhelming because Billy never thought this could happened to someone like him.
“Yeah,” he says, and has to clear his throat to make it come out stronger. “Yeah, I want to.”
Because yeah, this place should have no room for Billy and all of his issues, but maybe it does. Maybe they do have room for him in their makeshift little family, maybe some people have an unconditional amount of love in them to give freely. Maybe Billy is almost eighteen years old, but maybe he can have parents again. Maybe there is something to what Murray said, about shared trauma and love, that goes beyond the romantic kind and reaches the familiar one, because when Billy looks back on the last six months of his life, he can’t help but think that maybe he has an even bigger family in all of these people. Maybe Hopper and Joyce have their hands full with three kids who’ve dealt with shitty, shitty things of the supernatural kind, the younger two more than the older one, and all three of them having dealt with bullying and all three of them having dealt with abuse, but maybe that doesn’t mean that they won’t have room for one more. One more who has dealt with the same shitty things as the rest of them.
Afterwards, when Billy’s tears have dried and they’ve all laughed and hugged each other, Billy comes to the conclusion he should probably let Max know. These were her friends before they were Billy’s, after all, and no matter where they live, Max will always be his annoying little sister.
He pulls himself up to standing, and he’s still feeling a little weak in the knees so he gets his crutch and uses it to take himself to the kitchen where the phone now sits.
He puts in the number for his old house.
Susan answers.
“Merry Christmas, Susan,” Billy says, because he’s happy. “Can I speak with Max for a second?”
She seems relieved to be able to get off the phone, and Billy wonders, not for the first time, what Susan thinks of him. Then Max is there, and she doesn’t give him any time to say anything before she’s talking:
“Did you say yes?”
She knew. Billy can’t find it in himself to be irritated by that. “Yeah,” he says, voice coming out a little wet. “Yeah, yeah, I said yes.”
“Good!”
Billy laughs. “I’m really fucking happy Max. Joyce’s mum made me a sweater.”
“Is it ugly?”
“No. It’s got a palm tree. I guess that’s what she thought of when she heard I’m from California.”
“Sounds a little corny.”
“It is. But I’m wearing it.”
“You’re not!”
“I am,” he’s crying-laughing again.
“I’m coming over tomorrow again and you better wear it then!”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
—
The venue for the Harringtons’ New Years Eve Party is a big mansion by a lake, the weather not yet cold enough for the whole thing to have frozen. Billy gets there sitting in between Will and El in the backseat while Hopper drives. Jonathan left earlier to pick up Nancy.
The whole place is filled with people, some of them Billy recognises, like Mrs. Henderson and the Wheelers, others he guesses are part of the same high society the Harringtons take part in.
The dress code had been cocktail dress, and Billy’s ready to swoon when his eyes land on Steve, coming up to him with Robin. She’s dressed in a long, shimmery blue dress, and she looks beautiful. Steve’s suit hugs his frame in all the right places.
They end up with Robin in the middle, each one taking one arm and Steve steering them inside.
He shows them around, where there’s severs walking around with trays, high champagne flutes balanced.
There’s clusters of people, all dressed to the nines in tailored suits and pooling dresses. At first, Billy’s a little intimidated by it all, but then he hears and older woman let out a loud laugh, and sees a younger woman breastfeeding a baby at a nearby table.
It’s not what Billy’d always imagined upper class parties to be like, with people who barely know one another but pretend to like each other anyway. A bit like high school parties, with clear hierarchies and people hiding behind masks to conceal their insecurities. There are lots of people here, not an astounding amount, perhaps around two dozen that Billy doesn’t know, but they all clearly know Steve’s parents. They’re all comfortable around each other.
Everything’s decorated in silver and gold, tinsel around the fireplaces and doorways. Strings of glitter laid out on the tabletops.
“Billy!” someone calls a little later. Billy turns around to find Elena, waving at him and beckoning him closer.
She leans forward and kisses his cheeks when Billy gets to her. He’s a little take aback, looking back to see Robin and Steve laughing at him. Billy wishes he could flip them off, but the setting doesn’t feel that relaxed.
“There’s someone who’s been dying to meet you,” Elena says, and loops her arm through Billy’s, pulling him along with her.
She leads him over to where Steve’s dad is standing, talking to an older woman with a striking resemblance to Elena.
“Mamma?” Elena says. “This is William.” She gives him a little push forward and this time, when the older woman, Steve’s nonna, kisses his cheeks Billy’s a little more ready.
“So this is the boy who’s got my grandson so enamoured! Let me look at you!” She says, and Billy’s heart does a little jump at hearing that she knows, and she doesn’t care.
“Happy New Year, ma’am,” he says, and she purses her lips, chuckles a little.
“Oh no, none of that, now!”
Billy hears Elena and Richard laugh, and step away, her heel clinking against the polished floor.
He spends a while talking to her, and in the end feels he’s earned her approval. She’s a warm presence, and Billy can understand the love he’s hear in Steve’s voice when he speaks about her.
An hour to midnight, and Elena starts beckoning everyone towards the back of the house, where they will later step out and watch the fireworks over the lake.
Billy knows Steve’s spoken to his parents, has spoken to, well, Billy’s parents, too, and this is their cue to leave. They leave Robin with Steve’s nonna, and Billy hears the language change to Italian.
He follows Steve through the empty rooms, up until the point where Steve suddenly stops in a doorway. Billy turns back around, expecting him to do so as well because he forgot something, but Steve takes his arm and turns him around, pressing his lips against Billy’s in one smooth move. Billy’s eyes flutter closed.
“What was that for?” he whispers a few seconds later, when they’ve pulled apart, chests still pressed close together. “It’s not midnight yet, pretty boy.”
“No,” Steve grins. “But we are standing underneath the mistletoe.”
Billy glances up, sees the green hanging from a little bow at the top of the doorway, and chuckles lightly.
“Of course.”
“I’ve been waiting to get you alone to do that all night.”
Billy gives him a small little peck, tongue barely edging out to lick at his lips, before taking his hand and pulling him with him.
“We’re on a clock, though, remember?”
“45 minutes to midnight, Cinderella.”
“Will you ever stop comparing me to princesses?”
“Doubtful, when you look like that. More beautiful than any princess I’ve ever seen.”
When they get back home to Billy’s place, it’s twenty minutes until midnight, and Steve’s in a rush to get him inside.
He pushes Billy down on the couch, and if Billy didn’t know Steve’s fears were justified, if he wasn’t aware of the very real alarm this situation proposes, Billy would probably have laughed. He’s so adorably caring, is the thing.
I love you, Billy thinks, as Steve pulls the curtains closed.
I love you, Billy thinks, as Steve rushes into Jonathan’s room, puts on a record.
I love you, Billy thinks, as Steve gets one of Billy’s Metallica tapes on in his own bedroom, anything to drown out the noises about to start.
I love you, Billy thinks, as Steve sits down beside him and pulls the blanket he got for Billy around both of them.
I love you, Billy thinks, as Steve turns on the TV and they watch Kermit the frog and Al Jarreau.
I love you, Billy thinks, as Steve holds him when the sound of a firework manages to penetrate through the noise Steve’s surrounded them with.
I love you, Billy thinks, as Steve counts down from ten with him, while they watch the ball in Times Square drop.
I love you, Billy thinks, as Steve reaches for him and kisses him right as 1985 turns to 1986.
I love you, Billy thinks, as Steve takes his hand, and leads him from the couch to his bedroom, happy in the knowledge that it will be at least an hour before anyone else comes home.