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When Billy's Mama died he was seven. He had no concept of death, no understanding of a permanent kind of Gone yet. His Daddy didn't bother explaining it to him, and when he asked when Mama would be back he got a slap for his worries and a snarled shut up and bring me a beer.
When Billy's Mama died, a whole slew of strange looking Folks came to say a Goodbye and a Hello. Goodbye to Billy's Mama, and Hello to him, not that he realized that's what it had been back then.
Billy's Daddy was not happy to see those Folks. He raged and he snarled and he told them to leave. When they tried to speak to Billy, his Daddy left purple bruises all over his arm, dragging him away.
"You cannot keep him from us forever," a young looking, softly spoken woman said. She reminded Billy a little of his Mama. It was in her Voice or maybe the Look she had in her eye. "You may have a claim on him for right now, but our claim is eternal."
Billy's Daddy only stayed in the cemetery for as long as it took the priest to leave. As soon as he was gone, Billy's Daddy followed, going straight for the nearest bar. Billy, curled up by the fresh grave in his best pair of jeans and stayed. The strange looking Folks had also stayed. All of them, a quiet wall of silent support right at the edge of the cemetery. Billy noticed them, but he couldn't leave his Mama, not just yet. So he stayed. And they stayed with him. By the time Billy managed to get up, the sun had set and he knew that if he stayed any longer he'd be hard pressed to find his way back to the house his Daddy owned. It weren't a Home without his Mama. Without his Mama, Billy had no home.
His silent companions hadn't moved and had patiently waited for him to approach. As soon as Billy cleared the boundary of the cemetery the young woman bearing the strange resemblance to his Mama stepped forward and crouched down before him.
"I am so sorry for your loss Billy."
Billy nodded - he was sorry too.
"I wish I could take you back with us now," she continued softly, and Billy frowned, seeing real sorrow in her eyes, "but I cannot - your father's claim on you forbids it. You will have to stay strong for a while longer, Sweet Prince. Once you're of age, we will come and we will take you home to where your Mama's from. Until then, stay strong for her, our Sweet Prince."
Billy didn't really understand but he nodded his acceptance anyway. She smiled, bowed her head and stood back up. They all bowed their heads then. Billy blinked. They were gone.
~
When Billy was ten, he was bruised, he was angry, he, apparently, had a shiny new sister and a shiny new mom, who was not his Mama and never would be. He didn't spare a thought to the kind strangers that had held vigil with him after his Mama died. He'd seen them every time he went to visit her grave, standing beyond the boundary, quiet and watchful. Yet anytime he tried to approach they'd disappear before he got there. And Billy may had been only ten, but he could get a hint. So he stopped trying.
~
When Billy was sixteen, his Daddy packed up their brand new family, that wasn't all that brand new any longer and moved them halfway across the country. Away from the ocean, away from the beach, away from Billy's Mama.
The bruises that Billy’s Daddy had left on him for daring to go say goodbye, to bring flowers to where she rested, well. Those traveled with them.
~
Billy was still sixteen, was still bruised, was still angry when he met Steve Harrington in the Hawkins woods for the first time. At first, Billy didn't even think Steve was real. He thought that perhaps that last hit to the temple had given him another concussion. His vision had been rather blurry, but then Steve had spoken and there was no way any hallucination Billy could have had that was that damn rude.
"It's customary to introduce yourself upon entering another's territory," the most beautiful creature Billy had ever seen said before looking Billy up and down and smirking, "unless... Who raised you, little wolf? To be so feral as to shirk custom and protocol."
Billy scowled - the young man may have been stunning, but he was mean.
“We just moved here,” he huffed, crossing his arms and kicking at a loose rock that was right in front of him. The rock bumped the man's shoe and earned Billy a raised eyebrow.
“Besides,” Billy continued, all fake bravado and skin-deep bubbling rage, “who are you even, demanding shit from me. I don't know you. I don't owe you squat!”
“Harrington,” the young man announced with an elaborate bow at the waist and a wave of a hand that looked far too polished to be unpractised. At Billy’s completely blank stare, he blinked and added, a touch less surely, “Steve Harrington?” it rang out perplexed as Billy continued to stare at him, same blank expression on his face. Steve opened his mouth to say something else, but was, apparently, so thrown by Billy’s incomprehension he ended up blinking and muttering something about ‘unorthodox methods and strange foreign ways’ under his breath. Still, a moment later he seemed to recalibrate. “Are you going to give me your name now, little wolf?”
Billy frowned. The way this Steve phrased that… it was… it was something. But Billy was sixteen and had been raising himself and a baby sister he never wanted nor had asked for but had dropped on his lap anyway for years now. Billy was sixteen but most days he felt ancient and he may had only been sixteen but there were lessons he'd learned already. Lessons of caution and carefulness and weariness as well. Lessons taught by making a wrong move or saying a wrong word and ending up with fists raining down all over his body so Billy pulled back his initial reaction.
“You can call me Billy. Billy Hargrove.” He didn't offer a hand, and Steve didn't either.
He did, however, give Billy a slow, satisfied smile. “Clever little wolf, aren't you,” Steve purred, and Billy could have sworn he saw a flash of far sharper than human teeth in that smile. He swallowed. The something was still prickling at the back of his neck and so he forced the rage down, dialed back the fightfightfight and went with caution instead.
“If I …” he swallowed again, “if I offended you I…” he bit the inside of his cheek and forced the words out, “I apologise. I didn't… I didn't mean to.” He looked up at the older boy and flinched, seeing him frown.
“I was half-teasing, but you truly… you truly don't know the Custom of Introduction, do you?” Steve asked, sounding awed and damn near bawled-over.
Billy shook his head and winced at the wave of nausea it induced. When his vision cleared, Steve was still frowning. He was still frowning but it was thoughtful now. Curious. Steve tilted his head and stepped closer to Billy.
“Okay. So you know nothing about the Custom, but you are… right?” He tilted his head the other way and made another inquiring noise. His words made no sense so all Billy did was raise an eyebrow.
Steve huffed. “You must be! I wouldn't have Felt you otherwise,” he grumbled, beginning to pace.
What Billy could feel was the capitalization of the word when Steve spoke. He had no idea why but there they were.
“I must be…what?” he finally asked, hoping to prompt Steve into giving him something he could work with.
Instead of answering, Steve twirled on his heel and stepped right up to Billy. To Billy's chagrin, he had a few solid inches on him too.
“You are, I know you are. All I need to do is check. You don't mind, do you?” There went that smile, too sharp, again.
“After all, it's just a drop of blood—”
As if the word had been a spell, between one heartbeat and the next, all hell broke loose.
Before Billy could blink, much less ask a question, there was a shimmer in the air, and Steve fell frozen where he stood, his hand half raised to reach for Billy's curls. Something very pointy and very sharp looking a mere hair from his throat. Billy gaped. Was that… was that an actual trident?
“Please, kindly step away from our Prince,” a quiet voice spoke, ringing out in echoes through Billy's mind. The voice sounded… almost familiar.
Steve, instead of reacting like anyone normal, or, say, sane, and immediately obeying a person wielding a sharp and pointed weapon against him, merely stuck his hands in his pockets and smirked.
Billy was just about to open his mouth to speak, to ask something, not that he knew what that something could even be — by gods he was so fucking confused, when … Billy felt his eyes widen- there was something pointed and sharp at his throat then.
“How about you step away from ours first?” another voice spoke, this time from behind Billy, and Billy, like someone actually normal and sane, froze in place. He knew better than to move. Moving made you a more noticeable target. And noticed got hurt.
There was a sharp hiss and a fast paced noises that could, generously, be called a conversation.
Billy swallowed against a dry throat, trying his best to figure out how the fuck to get out of the situation.
Steve, meanwhile, was beaming. “Can’t believe that actually worked. You're so busted. Knew you were something, little wolf. Just didn't know you were r—”
Billy scoffed, his ingrained self-loathing overriding his survival instincts for a second. “You were wrong. I'm not anything. I'm nothing.” He sounded… vicious. Hollow.
Deathly quiet fell around them at his words. The sharp something at his throat wobbled.
The noise that came out of Steve was pure devastation. “No, who told you that? No, no no no, little wolf.”
And then, suddenly, Steve was right there, in front of Billy, his hands wrapping around Billy's.
“You're not nothing, little wolf.” Steve sounded so fucking sure Billy’s eyes teared up against his will. Just a little. “I'm pretty sure you're capable of being kinda everything, actually,” Steve finished, and, yup, that did it, Billy was crying then.
And then Steve was cooing and wrapping him up in his arms and… Billy had never felt that safe before. Ever. So, confused and exhausted and scared, for the first time ever Billy just… let go. Let go and collapsed and allowed himself to be held.
“Explain.” Billy stiffened at the utter ice in Steve's voice, but a breath later Steve's fingers were threading through Billy's hair and he was petting him and, oh, the ice wasn't for Billy then. That was nice. Billy snuggled deeper into Steve's embrace and waited to hear what would be said next. He sure as shit would have liked an explanation too.
The voice that spoke was the same one that had rung familiar to Billy.
“His Highness was claimed by his human father when the Queen passed.”
Billy blinked. What. He felt Steve nod so he was alone in his incomprehension. Cool.
“How old are you, little wolf?” Steve asked softly, and Billy pulled away with a sigh. The hug had been nice while it lasted. He was fully prepared to step back, but Steve wouldn't let him. He moved away far enough to look Billy in the eye and not an inch further.
“Sixteen.” Billy swallowed at the furrow in Steve's brow. He felt an urge to apologize. “Sorry.” The apology didn't always work — actually, it rarely worked, but he could hope.
Steve, however, didn't turn angry or violent, he didn't push Billy away, didn't hit him. Instead, his eyes turned soft and he smiled.
“Whatever are you apologizing for, little wolf?”
Billy shrugged. Steve chuckled at that and pulled him right back into his arms.
Someone cleared their throat behind them, but seeing as Steve paid it no mind, Billy didn’t either.
A blissful moment of cuddling later, however, Steve ceased his resumed petting through Billy’s curls. Billy did not whine at the loss. “Sixteen you said?” Billy nodded. Steve hummed. “By whose count?”
Billy pulled away, eyebrow raised. “What kind of a fucking question is that?”
Before Steve could offer an explanation, one of the trident-wielders piped in.
“All counts —” there was an obvious pause before the voice hesitantly continued, “My Lord.”
Billy watched as Steve’s eyes widened in surprise. “Sixteen? Literally?” Billy swallowed. Nodded again, even if the question hadn’t been directed at him.
Steve hummed. “Well. That…” He ran a finger just gently under Billy’s eye, where the bruise was dark and so very, very painful. Except… at his touch, the pain seemed to melt away. “That changes things.”
“How? What things? What’s going on?” Billy exclaimed, finally untangling himself from Steve and taking a step back. He wrapped his arms around himself in order to try and preserve some of the warmth that disappeared together with Steve’s touch leaving his skin.
“Sweet Prin—”
“You see, little wolf,” Steve spoke right over the trident-wielder, “you’re just tiny. Even by human laws, but by our laws more than so. Which means that you? You’re eligible to the Seeking of Sanctuary.” He paused, sighed deeply when Billy just blinked at him, and continued, “From me. Specifically. Since you’re in my territory.”
There was the fast paced noises of a conversation behind them again but Billy only had eyes for Steve. “What does that mean, exactly?”
Steve stepped up to him yet again, reaching up and running a finger yet again, just gently, right under Billy’s eye. Right over his bruise. It didn’t hurt. “It means that he’d never be able to touch you ever again, little wolf. It means that, for as long as you’d need it, you’d be under my protection. And me, well, I keep what’s mine safe, little wolf.”
Out of all the things that Billy could have possibly said, what came out of his mouth had been exactly nowhere on the list.
“I have a sister. You’d need to protect her too.” Billy blinked at himself, rather appalled by the blatant showing of his own hand.
The smile Steve gave him was slow like liquid honey and felt just as sweet on Billy’s skin.
“Is this you asking, little wolf?”
For the first time that night, Billy looked around them. Looked first, to the trident-wielders. Looked and did a double take as he actually recognized them as the strange Folk that would keep vigil with him at his Mama’s grave. Always at a distance, but still, always there. He looked at the woman who didn’t look a day older than she had when his Mama passed and watched as she smiled at him. Smiled and nodded. That was that, then.
Turning back to Steve, Billy nodded. Steve’s smile grew.
~
Billy was sixteen, and less bruised. He was also less angry and yet still even more confused. Billy was also, apparently, not only getting himself and his sister out and away from his Daddy’s fists, he was getting them Sanctuary from His Royal Highness Stephen C. Harrington of the Unseelie Court of Indiana. Go figure honestly.
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