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Billy hurts.
Max and her friends have locked him in the sauna.
There’s a monster in his body.
Billy’s in so much pain.
He’s just told Max about the giant shadow that forced itself into him. And all Max does in reply is ask, “What did he make you do?” as though it doesn’t matter that Billy didn’t mean to, that Billy couldn’t stop his body from moving, as though everything that matters is what he did, who he hurt.
But then again, any help Billy’s ever gotten has been conditional.
He’d been hesitant to tell her, afraid she wouldn’t believe him, but she does, she so clearly does, she knows, and she won’t help him, still.
“It’s not my fault, okay?!” He topples over, coming to rest his head on the wooden bench and grasping at its edge, at the burning wood. It’s too hot, it’s too hot, everything is too hot, and he can feel him, still, in the back of his mind, scratching. Like nails, boring into Billy’s brain and pulling himself forward. “Max, please!”
Through his blurry gaze, he thinks he sees Max close her eyes.
Billy’s desperate, tears clinging to his eyelashes. Everything hurts. “Please, believe me, Max, it’s not my fault! I tried to stop him, okay? I did,” he sniffles.
Max looks heartbroken. But she won’t do anything. She won’t let him out, won’t tell her friends to stop, even though it hurts, even though he’s so pathetic he’s begging her. Had clasped his hands together earlier, like one of the figures in the stained glass windows of St. Paul’s Cathedral back home.
He sinks further into the bench, despite how much it hurts to have anything touch his skin. He’s too weak to keep himself upright. His head pounds and he feels lightheaded, dizzy. He can’t see clearly. Everything is a red haze. Billy can feel himself growing weaker, can feel him start to take over.
He’s gasping, sobbing softly. Openly weeping in front of Max and her friends. “Please believe me, Max. Please believe me.”
He can’t see her anymore, isn’t sure if his eyes are open or closed. His muscles cramp.
She sounds much too reassuring for the situation and not at all scared enough when she next speaks. “Billy, it’s gonna be okay.”
He’s terrified, but maybe it will be. He hopes she will be, that she and her friends, little Jane Hopper whom the monster so desperately wants, will all be okay.
But Max is too late. He’s begged her to help him, and she didn’t, and now she’s too late. Billy can feel the monster pushing forward in his head, and he realises that it’s now or never, and no one’s coming. But Billy refuses to murder his own sister, or her friends.
“Max, please.” Everything hurts so bad now that he’s started twitching, his left leg spasming. He’s not sure if that’s him begging, or if it’s the monster.
All Max says is, “It’s gonna be okay. We want to help you. We want to help you.”
It’s all up to Billy now.
So he does the only thing he can think of, desperate as he is.
“You just have to talk to us, okay?! You have to talk to us,” Max says, sounding increasingly more desperate. Maybe she’s seen his right hand feeling along the floor for one of the shards of broken tile from when he was thrown into the wall. He finds one, grasps it hard enough to draw blood. “I believe you, Billy. We’ll figure it out together, okay? I need you to trust me. Please. Please, Billy- Billy?! Billy!”
He brings the shard up and slices into the back of his left arm. Max screams. In his head, the monster does, too. He drops his arm to the searing tiles on the floor and cuts into the other side, too.
Billy’s paid enough attention in biology lessons to know there’s a lot of blood there. He’s going to bleed out soon. He’s going to die, but the monster will too, the monster won’t be able to use his body to kill any more people.
The pain brings a momentarily sharp clarity, and he sees Max bang against the window set in the door to the sauna. She’s still screaming, sobbing out his name. One of her friends must grab her from behind and pull her away, because she disappears from view. Billy glances down at his arms, sees the bloody shard still held in his shaking hand, the blood gushing down his arm. It might just be the last hope of a dying man, but he thinks he seems some black among the red, too.
Despite it all, some part of Billy must want to survive, because he weakly lifts his arm up and rests it on the bench beside his head.
Out of nowhere, his head starts feeling like it’s being split open, and something rushes up his throat, something that tastes metallic like chlorine. Billy convulse, sees swirling darkness through half lidded eyes, and passes out to the smell of iron.
—
The first thing Billy sees when he wakes is white. A white ceiling.
The second thing he sees, when he shifts his gaze, is Max, watching him. Her eyes widen and she sits up ramrod straight when she notices he’s awake.
“Billy?” Her voice shakes. “You there?”
Billy blinks, nods. One of his curls has fallen in front of his eyes, and he’s about to lift one hand to smooth it back, when he realises he can’t.
He looks down at his hands, sees both wrists are restrained, padded cuffs holding him down to the hospital bed he’s in. His next breath stutters. Billy’s left arm is heavily bandaged, from elbow to wrist.
His head hurts, but it feels empty. He’s alone in there. The monster’s gone, Billy sure of it.
So why is he restrained?
“Max,” he says, and his voice immediately breaks. She reaches for a glass of water on his bedside table, but Billy shakes his head. “Max, it’s- It’s gone, I promise, I promise, please, what-“
“Shh, shh, Billy.” Max reaches for his right hand. There’s gauze there, too, from where the tile cut into his skin as he gripped it tight. He can’t feel Max’ palm against his, but he can feel her fingers, can feel the pressure of her hold. “I know. I know. It’s gone. It’s not in you anymore.”
“Why…?” He lifts his left hand the few inches the cuffs will let it. Billy winces at the pain in his arm.
“They think… They think you tried to kill yourself.”
“Oh,” Billy breathes. ‘I did’, he thinks.
Max stares at their clasped hands. Her breath hitches. “Neil’s really angry.”
Billy’s throat is suddenly really, really dry. He regrets saying no to the water. “Did he hurt you?”
Max looks sharply at him. “No.” She swallows. “But he’s probably going to hurt you, isn’t he?”
It sneaks up on him, and he can’t hold it in. He starts to cry. “Yeah.”
Max looks close to crying herself, but there’s something determined in her expression, too. “You have to- You have to tell them. The doctors. You have to- to tell them he’s done it before, that it’s- That it’s the reason why you did it. Please.”
Billy squeezes his eyes shut. He can’t look at her. “Okay.” He pulls uselessly on the cuffs, feeling helpless. He wants to curl up on his side, wants to become as small as possible.
“They had to… They had to put you in an ice bath to cool you down, and give you some kind of medication to keep you from shivering. You woke up, tried to fight them. Punched a nurse. That’s why they put the cuffs on you. They wouldn’t let me stay in here alone, wouldn’t- wouldn’t let you be alone, either, in case you woke up and tried to hurt yourself.” He hears her start to sob. “I’m so sorry, Billy. I’m so sorry.”
She throws herself down on him, wrapping her arms around his chest and crying into the thin blanket that covers him.
“S’not your fault. Besides. You saved me, right?”
That just makes her cry harder. Billy hates it when she cries. “I should’ve told you what was going on back in November.”
And that. That makes him pause. “What?” he says, quiet and shocked. Then, more importantly, he realises he doesn’t know what happened to the monster, other than that it left his body. “Max. Is the- Is the Shadow gone?”
“No.” Billy can feel it as she swallows. “Not yet.” And she tells him about November, about the fuck-up that is this fucking town, and at the end of it, Billy feels like the only thing he really wants is to grab Max and Jane and the rest of the little shits - including Harrington and older Byers and older Wheeler - and run far, far away.
But Max isn’t like him. Max has never been one for running.
And Billy knows he’ll stay.