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Memories relating to the events of the past few hours hit him like a freight train.
“Am I dreaming or is that you Harrington?”
“Yeah, it’s me, don’t cream your pants”
Christ his head hurt like a bitch.
He wasn’t totally sure how he ended up unconscious on the Byers kitchen floor, but he was almost certain that Maxine had something to do with it.
Max…Neal was going to fucking kill him!
“Harrington…” he exhaled, blinking back against the fluorescent light that was assaulting his senses.
He sat up slowly from his dazed stupor, right hand moving to rub at the numb patch that was forming on his neck. Harrington was just across from him, face a mess of black and blue as he lay unresponsive on the kitchen floor.
For a split-second Billy wondered if he was dead, before he caught the steady rise and fall of the other teens chest.
He stumbled gracelessly to his feet, almost immediately collapsing into the nearest wall for support. With as much effort as he could muster, he approached Harrington, nudging him gently with the toe of his boot.
“Ok, rise and shine sleeping beauty, I didn’t hit you that hard, for fucks sake…”
Yeah, wasn’t that a fucking lie. So maybe he had taken things a little too far, the recollection of slamming a plate into Harrington’s head suddenly entering the forefront of his mind. He might have settled the situation without his fists if he hadn’t been in such a shitty mood, but unfortunately, Steve’s dumb face had been a pretty appealing target in the heat of the moment.
“Looks like you’ve got some fire in you after all!”
Jesus, what an absolute shitshow.
“Harrington! Wake the fuck up!” he tried again, collapsing to the floor so that he could shake the other boy’s shoulders. The attempt earned him a pained groan as the brunette’s eyes slowly slipped open, dried blood crusted against his eyelashes.
He barely managed to move out the way before the near unconscious teen rolled onto his side and threw up onto the carpet with a low moan.
“Ugh, fuck”
With a great deal of effort, he pulled the other boy to his feet, grunting at the effort the simple action took. Steve simply stared towards the wall, clearly lost in some sort of self-pitying trance.
“Hey, hey!”
He snapped his fingers in front of the brunette’s face, agitation pricking at the base of his neck. “Wanna tell me why the fuck you’re hanging out with a bunch of kids in a creepy ass house in the woods?”
Steve shrugged; unfocussed eyes still trained on the plasterwork.
“Whatever, it’s not like I really give a shit anyway…”
He took the lead as they walked through the front door, Steve stumbling along behind him. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the inky darkness that surrounded them, but when they did he felt his chest fill with rage.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! Little shits took my car!"
He lashed out at a nearby post, instantly splitting the skin of his knuckles and painting his hands with blood.
“B’lly calm down” Steve slurred behind him, clearly finding the worlds difficult to spit out.
He turned to face his classmate, ready to lay into him, but suddenly found his focus shifting to the stream of blood leaking from the other boy’s nose, the bright crimson acting in sharp contrast to the rusty tone that covered the remainder of his face. If it had been any other day, a simple nosebleed wouldn’t have caught his attention, but given that he’d just used Harrington’s head as a makeshift punching bag, his concern for the other boy skyrocketed.
“Steve…”
Then, just like that, the other boy pitched forwards, a strangled moan escaping his lips. Billy shot forwards to catch him by instinct alone, lowering them both to the sodden ground with a thud. Harrington's usually warm eyes seemed devoid of life as they stared into the forest behind him, one pupil blown in a way that looked almost possessed.
Fine tremors began to vibrate from his skin like electricity as his head lolled forwards, the muscles in his neck suddenly tensing as his eyes rolled backwards into his head.
“Hey, cut it out Harrington! Open those pretty brown eyes for me…”
A feeling of pure dread began to settle in his stomach as he realised what was about to happen. Without thinking, he shrugged off his jacket and placed it on the ground, lowering the brunette’s head onto the makeshift pillow as his body was suddenly overcome with violent spasms.
Had he really hit him that hard?
“Come on Steve…”
Billy wasn’t sure that he had ever been so terrified in his life. Not even when Neal had punched him so hard that he’d been admitted to hospital for the best part of two weeks. And the worst part of it all? It was all entirely his fault.
After two minutes of pure hell the seizure finally started to ease, leaving Steve sporadically twitching below him. With bated breath, he found himself cautiously raising a shaky hand to check that the other boy was still breathing, letting out an audible sigh as he felt a thready pulse beating beneath his fingers.
With no time to spare, he scrambled back towards the house in search of a phone, fingers bashing out 9-1-1 mindlessly as he watched the rise and fall of Steve’s chest through the window. The machine rang for a few moments before a woman finally spoke, her voice immediately drowned out by him rattling off the Byers address and begging them to send an ambulance.
He vaguely registered the responder asking him to stay on the line as he fumbled to disconnect the call, rushing back into the darkness to the prone body laying in the cold mud. Harrington’s skin was almost white now, his breathing shallow and lips a sickly shade of mottled blue.
What the fuck had he done?
“Don’t you dare fucking die on me Harrington…”
It would have been so easy just to walk away before the paramedics arrived and pray that the other boy didn’t press charges when he woke up, If he woke up
That’s what his father would have done.
The knowledge of that alone was enough to have him clambering into the ambulance next to the injured boy, fingers nonchalantly entwining with his.