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“Where have you been? You were supposed to be here hours ago .” Joyce came tearing from the back room of the Byers house the moment he had knocked and let himself in and Billy knew she was mad, she was half running and it was after midnight and the problem was that he didn’t know. This whole situation was fucked and Max was at that girl’s place and Neil was going to kill them both if he caught wind of what was happening and Joyce’s hand was raised and Billy flinched. He flinched with his entire body but his eyes were wide open.
Joyce slowed down and lowered her hands but he wasn’t seeing, cheek turned and braced for a blow that couldn’t be worse than his dad’s but somehow was going to hurt so much more. He just needed to get it over with.
“Billy?”
Don’t cry you fucking pussy.
He’d hurt someone, he always hurt someone when he couldn’t remember. She was screaming behind the gag, pleading with him like they were friends. They were friends. Sort of. He blinked and a traitorous tear slipped down his cheek. Just get it over with . He wanted to scream it, but then he’d lose this. This fragile, sort of there support that he couldn’t stop clinging to.
“What happened?”
Joyce was tiny and when her two hands wrapped around one of his they barely covered it.
“Hey, Sweetie, I’m not mad. I was worried .”
This was where he was supposed to shrug but the whole situation felt distant. Not like the… what did they call it? Mindflayer? Not like when He was in control. Billy wasn’t able to be shaky when He was in control. “Billy, look at me.”
He shook his head. His blood was rushing in his ears and he was too hot and too cold all at once. Somewhere else in the house was a bump and clatter. Her kids are here. He’d never live it down if Jonathan saw him crying. One hand left his and reached up to cup his cheek, forcing him to face her.
“It’s okay.”
It’s not okay. None of this is okay.
“It’s okay, Billy.”
She pulled him for a hug that made him bend and tuck his shoulders. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t stop the flood of tears dripping down his cheeks, and he couldn’t make his arms raise to return the gesture. But he didn’t want to run from it, even if he could have.
“You’re sleeping here tonight.” Joyce whispered and he jerked, he couldn’t… if he wasn’t home when Neil got back it would be bad. Joyce hugged him tighter, “I mean it. In the morning we’ll get Hop and El over here and see what we can do. Okay? Okay.” She stepped back and pulled him toward the couch. “Sit down, I’ll get you something to drink and a blanket.
Somewhere he’d lost his cigs but the lighter was still in his pocket.
His stomach turned.