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"C'mere before I hurt."
The words echoed through his ears repeatedly, melodically, a simple rhythm repeating, thudding, drilling into Steve's skull.
It'd been days now, days of that phrase circling his mind, he was unable to get away from it.
And for days he knew the voice was familiar, knew he'd met who the voice belonged to.
He shot up in bed at three in the morning, it finally clicked who it was.
Billy.
Before he knew it he was outside, running, running to Billy's grave. He didn't know why. He didn't even remember putting on clothes or going outside.
All he knew was he had to go to Billy.
He saw the grave, dusty and grimy; he didn't remember it looking so aged before. He then noticed the vines, those certainly weren't there before, and the gravestone looked almost raised, as if the vines were holding it up higher. Steve squinted– yes, yes that's exactly what they were doing. He went to kneel in front of it for a closer look, only to step back when he noticed how hollow the ground felt. It was like the soil from all but the top layer had been removed, almost like an air bubble.
The vines began to twitch like tentacles, raising the stone higher, all the way out of the ground, bits of dirt and soil sticking to their slimy wet surface.
"What the hell?" Steve muttered, trudging back before realising that that was as far as he could go. His body wouldn't allow him to leave.
The earth air bubble started to convulse, straining upwards; something or someone was trying to burst out.
Steve reached for his walkie talkie, praying someone would be awake for him to call, but realised with anguish that he'd forgotten it at home, in its place was his nail bat. Why the hell did he think to bring his nail bat but not his damn walkie?
That's when it burst out.
A demogorgon, dirt and mud splattered onto it, screeching and roaring with its teeth sharp as nails, dripping thick saliva as it reared its head into the air.
Then it stopped.
Its petals folded in, revealing not a demogorgon face, but Billy's.
Billy panted and bent over, dry heaving and cursing due to the pain.
Steve watched in horror.
Billy was alive. And he was a demogorgon. Does that really mean he was alive? It couldn't, surely. The demogorgon was alive, sure, but Billy himself? No chance.
He didn't get chance to think of anything more, as he was distracted by Billy (the demogorgon? Billygorgon? Demobilly? Billy would do for now.) grabbing him by the shoulders.
"You heard." He whispered with shock. "It worked, you heard, you heard me."
Steve managed a startled squeak in return. He didn't have chance to ask how the hell Billy communicated with him. A dead man walking stood before him.
"And the nail bat… God you're an angel Stevie, you know that?"
"Stevie–" Steve repeated. It was funny how one simple nickname shot him back to the past, back to before it all went wrong. Back to the nights getting egregiously high together, back to the shared microwave dinners, the movie nights they insisted weren't dates but would always end in hesitant kisses and warm hugs as they fell asleep in eachothers arms.
Billy caught the way Steve's eyes glazed over in reminiscence.
"Steve… Fuck. Fuck I'm so sorry for what I'm making you do but I'm… I'm not me. Not really, and I really won't be in however long it takes for me to stop fighting the thing inside me."
"What– what do you mean?" Steve managed to splutter out, his brain still jumbled.
"Vecna… He… He turned me into a thing before he died, I don't–"
"Demogorgon."
Billy smiled, and Steve wished so badly he could kiss him, kiss those beautiful lips and feel Billy's warmth again.
"Look at you." He said. "Still so fucking smart, even if you think you're not."
"Billy, I–"
"Stop, don't… don't call me that. It'll make it more difficult for you."
"Make what more difficult?"
Billy looked down at his nail bat.
Steve's eyes widened at the implication. "No. No way."
"You have to. If you don't I'll hurt everyone, I'll hurt you, I'll hurt… I'll hurt Max." His voice broke as he said his sister's name, full of regret for all he did to her in life.
"C'mere before I hurt." It made sense now. Billy wanted Steve to kill him before he ended up slaughtering the entire town.
"Why can't you just hold out on it, fight against the urges?" Steve knew he couldn't, he was stalling. He was not going to kill his boyfriend.
"You know I can't do that long term, Steve, I've only got so long until all I become is a demogorgon with human skin on it."
Steve looked into his eyes, those icy blue eyes that could keep him still and calm for so long way back when. He'd seen those eyes cry, seen them bruised, seen them full of love and fear, but now… Now they were mostly empty, empty other than pure, pure fear. Billy didn't want to hurt anyone again.
Demogorgon Billy was so alike to normal Billy despite his insistence they weren't the same. His cadence in his speech, his posture, his big calloused hands, the fear in his eyes, the way he could draw Steve in with the sweetest of smiles.
He screamed the same too, as Steve's bat hit him;
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
A rhythmic pattern, hitting in melodies of 6 beats.
"C'mere before I hurt."