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Well, it feels like slow motion, I hear the gun exploding
I see the flash that brings me to my knees
He didn’t know what was going to happen that morning. He wished he had seen it coming however, it would have been a blessing, but he’s never been that lucky. That morning he’d gotten up, dressed, made him and Steven coffees, cleaned himself up a little to look like he actually gave a damn about his appearance and had grabbed the grocery list on his way out the door of the shithole apartment they shared to run some errands.
The bank was going to be the last, since it was so near home and the least important, given all he needed to do was add their wage checks into their joint account, but that changed. Hard.
and I feel the warmth flowing out of me
He didn’t know if he was still walking or standing still when he first heard it coming in the doors, but he’d soon felt it. The bullet, ripping through his chest and shoulder. There was no pain, however. He didn’t know either to panic or laugh at that. It was actually the floor that bothered him more, it was just too cold, even on a day like today. Or maybe it was him feeling shock set in and it was supposed to be cold. He didn’t know.
But in my mind, I'm climbing up the stairs,
and walking down the hall, and Heather's (Stevie’s) standing there
He doesn’t have much time to think about it as his head’s woozy and once the world and colours have stopped melding and spinning like a bad LSD trip, he awakes to find himself asleep against the banner of some stairs in an all-white house.
Confused and slightly panicked that he may have crossed back over to the Upside Down (a fear worse than others he’d accumulated), he got up quickly, only to see some light coming from the door that was to his side. Reaching out in hesitation, he grasped the handle firmly and twisted it open, bringing a hand up to shield his face before he let it fall.
In a whirl of fall leaves, he spots something he wasn’t expecting. Steven.
October 99 (89), I see us in New England in the Fall
It’s quite a scene, it’s evening, the sky well into sunset and slowly starting to darken with a few clusters of stars making their presence known. Steve’s dressed in olive green with a scarf around his neck and his hair tied up and is beaming at him. “Hey, there you are. Finally, braving the horrible mountain air?”
“...Yeah.” Billy’s tongue feels like dead weight, but he comes up with some answer. “You know I never liked going out, even now.”
“This is our honeymoon, we only have this for a week and then it’s back to Hawkins, the armpit of Indiana, you have to get used to it at some point, dipshit.” Honeymoon? They’d already had their honeymoon, almost 2 years ago now. In New England, given Steven wanted to travel and it was a cheap vacation on their shitty salaries.
They’d had a whole disposable camera of photos from it that they kept in the wardrobe, other than an 8x10 that rested on their dresser in their bedroom. What was going on here?
“Uh…right.” Billy blinked, swallowing hard, head starting to feel rather light again while he’s attempting to take everything in. “Honeymoon. Got it.”
Our love will last forever like that 8x10,
Hanging on Heather's (Stevie’s) Wall, hanging on Heather's (Stevie’s) Wall
“Bill, hey babe, are you okay?” Steven’s hand clasps his shoulder and it’s the only thing steadying him, but it’s not enough as his full weight falls on his partner and he faceplants into the ground, cold seeping back into everything again as he tries to open his eyes.
I see the money on the floor, and his gun there by the door
He was trying to rob the bank when I walked in
He can barely see anything, but he can feel. Pain, rippling through him unlike before and an oxygen mask around his face, multiple hands working on him as in his line of vision, not only is there a lot of blood, the person who shot him is being handcuffed, cursing and even upset, continuously looking over at him and the gun that has skittered by some force to rest nearby.
Oh, but this is not the way it's s'pose to end
Despite someone calling to him to stay awake and alert as to talk to them, he can barely lift his head before he’s out again, slipping back into the faze around his eyes, everything blending together again once more.
But in my mind, I'm climbing up the stairs,
and walking down the hall and Heather's (Stevie’s) standing there
He wakes again to New England and the fall, but this time, he’s got a blanket tucked around his shoulders and top half and it’s much darker, night, a bonfire crackling in front of him and his head against a shoulder as Steven adds another log to it so it would still burn.
Pulling himself up, he must groan because Steven’s back again, still clad in the outfit he’d been wearing earlier and still smiling at him, only more gently this time, eyes under his eyes moving with it. “Hey sleepyhead, finally woke up from your old man nap?”
“Oh, ha, ha. Very funny.” Billy grumbles back before sliding the blanket off to pool around his waist as he looks around. The stairs are bright and full and every surface has a dust of colour like the sky had earlier. It’s honestly quite peaceful, almost too much, if you weren’t used to it.
October 99 (89), I see us in New England in the Fall.
“Isn’t it just perfect?” Steven wraps an arm around him and he can’t help but lean into the contact as he continues to talk. When we have kids, we should bring them back here - show them the photos we’re planning to take while we’re here.”
“Someone’s got big plans that aren’t as big as their cock.” Billy couldn’t help but make a snarky remark and actually laughed as Steven’s smacked his shoulder. “At least in New England, no one can hear you being so girly. Why kids?”
“You never know.” Steven shrugged, chuckling. “We could. We’d be better parents than most, not raise them to be little shits like Max or worse, Dustin.”
“Amen to that, Stevie baby.”
Our love will last forever like that 8x10,
Hanging on Heather's (Stevie’s) Wall, hanging on Heather's (Stevie’s) Wall.
Billy can feel another headache coming on, his eyes shutting as slices of what was happening before filtered through his head again. Christ, which one of these is real? It has to be this one, right? Happy, with Steven - not him being shot in a bank. Trying to separate the two was practically drowning him in a symphony of feelings that he didn’t want.
Was he just going crazy? Were the pills he took for his PSTD induced night terrors and everything else from what he’d gone through stopped working? Did he need to go see a psychologist again? So many questions, yet, he can’t answer them as his mind slowly goes blank and turns off again as he slumps over, scene fading around him once more.
Oh somewhere, someone says we've lost him now,
But I look up and I see Heather's (Stevie’s) smile
Semi-conscious, buried in a gray space he can’t identify, he hears voices, but not words.
Most of the voices are quite far away, but there’s a few that are closer. One in particular calls for his time of death and while that would normally shock someone back into reality, Billy barely registers it as he turns to his side and finds himself in a bed with Steve sleeping next to him peacefully with a small smile gracing his lips like nothing was happening at all.
He reaches out to touch him, to assure himself that this is the real version of his life that he’s been living up to this point, when he too, vanishes like the environment around them.
So how can I be dying, when I'm climbing up the stairs,
And walking down the hall and I see a bright light there.
He’s back on the bottom of the stairs again, hyperventilating as tries to get his bearing back as best he can. This time however, once he does, the door he’d found earlier that lead out to Steven is no longer against the wall beside him. It’s moved to the top of the staircase and the bright light coming through the cracks is a lot more potent than it was before.
He can’t be dying, he just can’t be. The sirens, the blood, the panic. It was all just a stupid vision or flashback or dream of some kind, not real. Something has to be, but that was not and he needed answers like right the fuck now.
Panic somehow easing with every step, he quickly thunders up the stairs like they’d break under his feet at any second and yanks the door open without a second thought and steps though, eyes closed as he prays that he’ll just wake up and Steven will be there.
October 99 (89), that picture of New England in the fall.
It seems that his wish comes true as when he’s back, the trees are like one of those fancy paintings that meant nothing to him and Steven’s at his side, hands laced together. “Ready for our picnic? I managed to convince them to give us champagne.” Steven held the child bottle in it’s paper bag up and Billy, the memories of being shot fading quickly away, nodded while holding up the picnic basket in his other hand under a rug. “You bet.”
“Your Mom called by the way - wanted to make sure we got here okay.”
“Oh, really? She’s always been a bit of a nosy parker, probably just making sure I haven’t defiled you yet or something.” Billy almost wanted to cry, but didn’t. Why would he cry over his mother of all things? He wasn’t even this emotional at the wedding.
Our love will last forever like that 8x10,
Hanging on Heather's (Stevie’s) Wall, hanging on Heather's (Stevie’s) Wall
“God, Bill, that’s so wrong. Your Mom is a saint.” Steven laughed, shaking his head so hard some of his brown stands came loose. Billy couldn’t help himself after that and palmed Steven’s cheek with his gold ringed hand for a long moment like it was the last time he’d see him before tilting his head up with his fingers under his chin to bring them into a kiss.
“I love you, asshole. More than your little girly goody two shoes rich boy body will know.”
“I love you too, dickweed. Now let’s go eat before it all goes to waste.”