Chapter Text
Senior year was supposed to be the culmination of everything, the pinnacle of Billy's youth. He'd been expecting to ride the last two years of high school on the wave of notoriety and awe he'd been building back home, until Max had opened her mouth at the wrong time. Uprooting from the Bay to bum-fuck Indiana the year before had fucked up all of Billy's assumptions. All of that shit was before things actually got fucked up.
Now. Now Billy didn't know how his life was supposed to go.
He gently rubbed a hand over his chest. The scar tissue there itched, healing, but there was a sharp ache if he pressed too hard. It had been less than six weeks since he woke up in a hospital gasping for air.
Doctors and nurses talked a lot, and Billy didn't understand because they were saying shit about a car wreck. Susan came in, white as a sheet, and told him his dad died in the mall fire. Which made no goddamn sense because his dad would have never gone to the mall without Susan, not on the fourth of July when he'd normally be at the VFW barbecue. Billy hadn't been in his car when it happened. He'd been...he'd been there.
Nothing made any goddamn sense because Billy should have died. He remembered. He remembered, but he felt like he was crazy because all those adults were telling him he was lucky to survive. They'd seen photos of his car. It was a twisted wreck.
Max's laughter cut through Billy's thoughts, and he closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, he grabbed his keys.
The Camaro had been the first, big thing he'd taken care of. As soon as he'd been home long enough to feel antsy at being stuck. Staples still in his chest and side, Billy made some calls, found out where the wreckage was, and got that shit towed off to scrap. Maybe he didn't get much for it, but there was a cut of the life insurance money sitting in his bank account. He went to the nearest car lot and bought a truck—the furthest from his Camaro he could think of. A big red Ford, not old enough or new enough to be stylish.
Driving it, Billy felt safer, somehow. Especially when he got that restless feeling, that skin prickling shiver that made him feel like danger was pressed right up against the door. He could slide behind the wheel and lose himself along the streets, driving and smoking, not thinking about more than when to stop and when to go.
He wanted to go .
Later that evening, after losing most of the afternoon in the streets of Hawkins—avoiding certain parts all together while straying further and further—Billy found himself paused in the hallway.
Max's door was ajar, and she was lying on the floor with her legs propped on the side of bed. She had a spray of comic books near her, and the walkie talkie was held in her left hand. Billy watched the way she grinned as she spoke, happiness obvious in her expression. Some people, he thought, were lucky enough to fly above the shit life could throw at them. She hadn't even been pissed at or scared of Billy after he woke up...after what he'd done while The Shadow had been controlling him.
"Max." He pushed the door open, stepping forward.
She looked up at him, mild annoyance at being interrupted crossing her features. "What?"
"Max?" A girl's voice asked through the crackle of radio waves.
Billy didn't know why he'd come in here. He looked around her room, searched for a reason other than the gnawing loneliness he didn't want to acknowledge. "Is that Eleven?" He asked even though he knew the answer. Max still didn't have any other girl friends yet.
The look Max gave him was full of sarcasm. "Duh." She sat up and turned to him. "What do you want ?"
That familiar irritation rolled just beneath the surface, and for a moment, he thought about how it would feel to tear apart some of Max's comic books. The thought melted away just as quickly however, when he remembered the true fear he'd seen in Max's eyes when she looked at him—at The Shadow—when his consciousness had been pushed so far below. He never wanted to see her look at him like that again.
"Where did they move to?"
"El, I gotta go." Max dropped the walkie talkie into her lap. "Rockford."
He had no idea where that was, and he frowned. "Is that really far away?"
Max peered up at him like he'd grown another head, though she didn't look mad about the sudden interrogation. She'd been doing that lately, any time Billy asked her about herself or whatever. Like he was doing some unexpected trick that made her happy.
"It's like thirty minutes from Chicago. Joyce promised to take them ice skating in the city when the rinks open."
Chicago wasn't close, but it wasn't impossibly far away either. The Byers apparently knew some conspiracy dude who lived up there, who'd helped the Chief and Joyce blow up the machine that caused the Starcourt "fire." He wondered if that's why she'd chosen to move up there—something slightly familiar but not here . Billy could understand that.
"You wanna go visit?"
"Uh, yeah . But that's like four hours away, Billy." She was picking at the knee of her pajamas. "I think they're supposed to be back for Christmas vacation."
Christmas felt a long fucking time away. It hit Billy that he wouldn't be dreading the break from school anymore. He wouldn't have to tiptoe around his dad, constantly worrying about what would set him off. Nothing would be the same.
He shook his head. "See if the mom would be cool with us staying the night. I can drive."
That had Max shooting to her feet. "What? Billy!" She stalked forward. "Billy, don't mess with me. You'd really do that?" A smile was fighting to break across her face as Max was clearly trying to stay serious, not get her hopes up.
Billy looked away, suddenly afraid about the hope radiating from her. "Don't make such a big deal about it. Find out when it works for them and let me know. I'll talk to Susan about it." He needed to get out of there before he messed up. He started walking away, only to be stopped. Max had thrown herself at his back.
Her arms wrapped around his arms, and she squeezed him tight, head bumping against his shoulder. She squealed, "Oh my God, thank you!"
He leaned back into her hug for a moment before pulling away. "Whatever."
Max worked fast when she was motivated. Within a day, she'd told Billy that Joyce agreed to let them stay over. Joyce had to work most weekends, but she had a Saturday coming up off, if they wanted to drive up then. Susan took almost no convincing when Billy broached the subject. In fact, Susan looked almost relieved. He couldn't help but wonder if she was looking forward to the idea of not having him in the same house as her.
Susan didn't know what had really happened, but she'd always been hesitant around Billy. He'd wondered over the years, if she expected he'd grow up to be like his dad. Maybe she just hated the way Billy always seemed to set his dad off. She sure as shit never did much to stop things, though it always looked like she got upset about it afterwards.
So the moms were squared away, and Billy didn't have a job anymore to deal with. The pool was closed now, and Billy had missed the last few weeks anyway. There was a big red circle around August 28, two weeks away, and Max crossed out a day each morning. Billy went to school Monday through Friday, drove Max to the arcade or the video store most afternoons, and the time passed faster with a goal in sight.
"Why did we have to get up so early?" Max complained as she swung the door shut behind her. She had a thermos of coffee tucked in her elbow, and her booking was propped on the floor between her feet. "We aren't actually going to school, right?"
Billy turned the engine and snorted. "Yeah, but Susan thinks we are. She'd be suspicious if we didn't get up like normal. Once we get on the highway you can take a nap. Stop your bitchin. Hand me that."
She had poured half a pot of coffee into the thermos, added too much sugar and not enough milk. He took a swig with a wince before handing back the thermos. Billy grabbed the maps he'd bought for the trip, one for Indiana and one for Illinois, and slapped them down on Max's lap. "Shotgun has to navigate."
Max made a face, and unfolded the Indiana map. Billy had the Byers's address and general directions written in Max's messy scrawl, but the maps would ensure they got there some time today. He hadn't driven further than 30 miles from Hawkins since they moved here, and the drive from California had been the longest Billy had ever made. His dad had made sure Billy and Max both could read a map, because he'd threatened to leave them on the side of the road if they got lost on that drive.
Despite Max's propensity for moodiness and obnoxious behavior, she was an okay passenger. She didn't get lost in her head so long that she forgot to tell him when to turn. Max ran her finger along the crisp paper, tracking their progress with the mile markers, and told Billy ahead of time when they'd need to watch out for an exit. Billy kept the radio on the local rock station until they got far enough away that the Poison song playing was more static than music. Then he flipped on the cassette deck and grinned when Max rolled her eyes as "Panama" rolled out of the speakers. They stopped a few times for bathroom breaks and so Billy could stretch his legs.
When they were officially out of Indiana, Billy pulled in at a rest stop.
Max followed him to a vending machine even though they had eaten breakfast less than two hours ago. He stared at the options without taking in the details. In the back of his head, he could hear Neil swearing at the two of them for daring to skip school and leave without permission. His stomach was suddenly clenched tight at the thought of what would happen when his dad got ahold of him. The whir of the vending machine broke his spiral, and he sucked in a breath.
Max reached for the Fritos she'd bought. "Aren't you gonna get something"
Billy shoved a hand in his pocket and fished out some quarters. He punched some buttons and grabbed the candy bar that fell out. The chocolate tasted like nothing when he took a bite.
"Are you going to apply to college after you graduate?" Max's words rushed out suddenly.
What the fuck? "What—"
Max turned to him. "It's just, a lot has happened, right? And this is your last year of high school, and you've always hated it here even before..." Max looked away as she trailed off for a moment. "I was just thinking about it. If you left."
Billy tossed his mostly uneaten candy bar into a nearby trash can. His dad had told him in no uncertain terms that once Billy graduated high school he'd be expected to attend college or join the Marines. There were no other choices. Neil had lorded his G.I. Bill over Billy as a gracious gift his dad would be giving him after graduation. Neil had threatened to send him to military school more than once, take away college as an option all together.
"You that ready to get rid of me?" Billy asked, already sure of the answer.
"No, Billy—"
He cut off her words with a loud sigh. "I don't fucking know, Max. That's months away."
When Max didn't immediately say anything, Billy looked back at her. Her eyebrows were pinched, and she was frowning. Max quietly said, "I don't want you to go. You're not..." She shrugged, voice catching. "I almost lost you once."
Billy swallowed down the tight feeling in his throat. The two of them never had a close, vulnerable relationship. This new revelation scratched at the soft insides Billy had learned to hide a long time ago. It felt uncomfortable.
"We aren't real family," he said woodenly by rote.
Max shoved him, hard, making Billy wince. "Fuck you!" She screamed at him. There were tears gathered in her eyes, threatening to fall. "We are family! You're my brother and I'm your sister!"
The anger that lived constantly, coiled inside Billy snapped tight. "No, we aren't, Max! My dad married your mom when I was ten!" His hands twisted into fists at his sides though he didn't raise them.
"So what! No one else knows what it was like in that house but us, Billy. No one else knows you like I do." She was crying now, pissed off at Billy's argument.
Billy couldn't stop the bitter laugh that ripped out of his chest. "You don't know shit, Max. He never treated you like he did me. You never got the bruises or the belt. You never got smacked around for daring to breathe too loud when he was mad, all because it was dis respectful. " When he was finished, he could feel his own tears at the corners of his eyes. "I always had to protect you from it."
"But I was scared the whole time! Scared of what he'd do to you! Scared of when he'd finally hurt me or my mom! It's not fair for you to act like this." She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, looked away from Billy. "I'm sorry I made things worse for you, okay? I'm sorry he was meaner to you because of me, but I never felt safe around him either."
Her words came out weak, and she looked as small as he'd ever seen her look.
The anger seeped out and left Billy broken once again. He muttered, "You weren't safe around me either." He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth at the hazy memory of being trapped in the sauna. The fleeting moment he'd been able to break free of the Shadow before it stuffed him right back down and used his body and his voice to hurl insults and pain at a bunch of kids. The shocked fear written across Max's face. "I almost killed you."
Max rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Billy's sides. Against his chest, she was shaking her head. "That wasn't you. I saw you, Billy. I saw ."
Billy gave in and wrapped Max in a hug, pulling her tight and hiding his face in her hair. He was still crying. "I'm sorry, Max. I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you."
"You didn't. You didn't." She repeated the words again before taking a shuddering breath. "I'm so glad you're alive. I can't lose you."
He didn't know what to say to that, not when he wasn't sure if his life was worth living. Everything had been miserable for so long, and he'd never been able to make anyone in his life happy, never made anyone proud of him. Billy hugged Max closer. His throat hurt with how hard he was holding back the sobs that wanted out.
"I love you, Billy," Max cried openly, sobbing ugly and loud. "Please don't say we aren't family. You're my brother."
Billy nodded. "Okay, Max. Okay." He reached up to wipe the tears from his face, but left an arm around Max where she was still hugging him.
They hugged for a few more moments as both of them found composure again. With one more tight squeeze that had Billy wincing at the pressure, Max stepped back. Her face was blotchy red and her eyes were puffy, but she smiled at him tentatively. "You can't tell anyone I just cried like a baby."
Billy laughed. He knew his own face looked just as rough. He felt lighter though. "I think this is what they call mutual destruction, right?"
Max held out a hand, pinky finger raised. "Pinky promise." She grinned sheepishly.
It was an olive branch, Billy knew that. If he scoffed at her, things would probably be alright, but if he accepted...
Billy curled his own pinky around hers and followed her lead in shaking hands. They were smiling at each other, and it felt okay .
The rest of the drive to Rockford was a lot less emotional. After the Van Halen tape ended its second playthrough, Billy turned the radio back on and let Max flip through channels until she found a pop station. Madonna, A-ha, and Phil Collins sang them through the miles, getting stuck in Billy's head as Max sang along freely. When they finally rolled into town, it was just after two.
Max unzipped her book bag and pulled free the walkie talkie and made a weird squeak into it.
"Pull over! Pull over!" She yelled excitedly, pointing at a service station on the right.
"Max, what the hell is wrong with you?" Billy asked even as he steered the truck over and parked.
Max quickly unbuckled and threw her door open. Over her shoulder she said, "Hang on, I'm going to get directions."
Billy stared after her for a beat before he followed. "We already have directions. We're less than fifteen miles out."
Max twirled to face Billy as she walked. "Yeah, to their house. But we need directions to the high school." With that, she turned back and pulled open the store's door. headed for the clerk.
Billy hung back to watch Max interrogate the little old woman. He huffed. Of course she'd come up with her own scheme. Maybe they hadn't been close growing up, but Max was clearly more conniving than Neil would ever give her credit for, just as capable of being sneaky as Billy. When Max had obtained her query, Billy held the door open for her and they headed back to the truck.
"Why do we need directions to the school." Billy didn't bother making it into a question. He knew. He was just curious to hear Max explain it.
Max spoke as she examined the map so she could compare the directions. "It's not really fair for us to skip school but El and Will can't. We're going to meet them outside. When we get there, I'll signal El again."
Will couldn't believe he was skipping class. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, even though he and Eleven were just crouched behind a school bus as they waited on their get-away. It felt like they would be caught any moment. Will met El's wicked grin with a muffled laugh. It hadn't taken all that much to convince him to go along with her and Max's plan. After all, El was currently his only friend in Rockford, if he didn't count Jonathan (and Will was sure brothers didn't officially count as "friends" no matter how well you typically got along). No one was going to miss him in Civics.
His attention turned to the sound of an engine. It wasn't the Camaro, like Will still somehow expected despite hearing about Billy's new ride. It was hard to picture Billy without his trademark blue muscle car. The truck that rolled to a stop ten feet away from them was red and big. It had a rack of lights attached to the cab roof, imposing in a different way than the Camaro had been. Will chewed his bottom lip as it hit him that he would be willingly getting in a vehicle with Billy Hargrove .
Almost as soon as the truck stopped Max was out like a shot. She threw herself into a hug with Eleven before reaching out to hook an arm around Will when he got close enough. The hug was tight, and Will eagerly returned the embrace. He missed home , and even Max felt more like home than anyone else in this shitty town. He pulled away first, though, when he heard another door open and the sudden gravel of Billy's voice scolding them.
Billy's hand was braced on the edge of his door so he could look over the hood at the three of them. "Come on, dorks. You're going to get caught if you keep standing around making a scene." He sat back down with a smirk when Max flipped him off without even looking.
Will's heart thumped in his chest, and he swallowed hard. Before he moved, Max was already tugging Eleven towards the bed of the truck and telling her to throw her bag into the back as she stepped onto the wheel. Will watched as Max hauled herself over the lip of the truck bed and held out a hand to help Eleven. It didn't look very safe, but the girls were already getting cozied up against the cab, knees bent and arms locked. Will felt singularly alone in that moment.
Billy honked the horn impatiently and gave him a "What are you waiting for?" gesture. It snapped Will out of his momentary despair.
He took a fortifying deep breath and stepped up into the cab, closing the door Max had flung open so that he was left relatively alone with the party's former nemesis. Will looked at Billy out of the corner of his eye, not brave enough to quite look at him fully. It felt safer not to make eye contact. Even though things had cooled down a lot after Eleven closed the gate the first time—after Billy had beat the crap out of Steve and later begrudgingly apologized to all of them for "being a jerk"--things had gone right back to shit over summer.
Billy had been flayed big time, and, in the process, had been the instrument of destruction.
It made Will nervous.
"Guess you're the navigator now," Billy muttered as he put the truck into gear. Will smelled fresh cigarette smoke, only now noticing the lit cigarette perched between the older boy's lips.
Will straightened up and blindly grabbed for his seat belt to connect it over his lap. His knuckles bumped against a pile of fabric. It was a discarded tan jacket made of corduroy and soft fur. Will glanced at Billy's bare forearms beneath the light blue shirt he was wearing.
Will tucked his chin into the top of his own jacket, cheeks heating for no real reason as he mumbled for Billy to take a right at the next light. He could hear the girls sitting behind, their voices drifting away in the wind. He was glad there was music playing and that Billy didn't particularly seem interested in catching up. Besides, what would they have to talk about?
It took less than ten minutes to reach the house. This one wasn't much different than the one he grew up in. It was a three bedroom, one bath one-story just like the other one. There wasn't much of a yard though, just a patch of scraggly grass out front and a rocky backyard that held nothing but a cracked tire swing someone had left behind years ago. Billy parked to the side of the house, in the yard instead of the narrow driveway so as to leave room for Jonathan and his mom's cars.
When Billy cut the engine, he didn't immediately get out even though Will could hear the girls jumping down. He rolled up his window and went to grab his jacket and the bag hidden beneath. When he looked down, Will saw Billy's hands and the rough scars on his knuckles. He grabbed his own bag from between his feet and slid out of the truck, unsure what to say.
It didn't matter much. Max was happy to take lead, the same way Mike did. The comparison made Will snort to himself in amusement. He knew both of them would loath the comparison. Max was a whirlwind of energy as she demanded a tour of the house after carelessly dropping her book bag in one of the dining room chairs. Eleven seemed elated to have the company, and Will was happy too. Even if Max wasn't Mike or Dustin or Lucas.
Will headed to his bedroom, idly wondering if his brother would end up fussing at them all for skipping when he finally got home from his shift at the grocery store. He set his bag down and hung up his jacket before heading over to the tape player Jonathan had given him for his twelfth birthday. There was a stack of tapes, mostly blank ones he'd bought and filled with mixes off the radio, but there were a few albums. He looked through them until he found a Black Sabbath one he knew made Jonathan roll his eyes. Will slid it in the tape deck and hit play before backing up to lie down on his back.
"I wouldn't have pegged you for liking something so heavy," Billy said without preamble, startling Will from where he'd been lost in his thoughts as he stared up at the ceiling. Symptom of the Universe was playing, so Billy hadn't taken too long to get bored with the tour. Will sat up quickly, brows knit when Billy let himself into the bedroom without asking.
"I thought all you dorks liked that top 40 bullshit."
Will spoke before he thought better of it. "Van Halen is all over the radio. That's top 40." He clenched his fingers in his comforter, suddenly worried Billy would find the Wham! tape he knew was shoved in the back of his desk drawer.
Billy slowly circled the small room, scanning the bare walls and overcrowded bookshelves. His bed and desk took up most of the space, which left Billy less than four feet away as he lifted a mix tape up to examine the scrawled playlist.
"Van Halen isn't poppy like the Cars or Duran Duran." Billy looked over at Will with a raised brow. He was holding a mix Will made over the summer, before the Mindflayer came back. He'd just been trying to distract himself then. Will had blown through a month's worth of allowance on blank tapes, making mixes for no one.
"Neither is Iron Maiden." Will could feel his ears heat up at the challenge in his own voice. He felt defensive with Billy in his space, judging his taste in music. The frown that tipped Billy's mouth wasn't what Will had expected.
"That guy shrieks. It's not music. You can't party to it." Billy cut his eyes to the tape deck, where Thrill of It All was playing. "This isn't much better. I feel like I need to be high to listen to it." Billy's frown turned into a smirk. "Or is that what you do? You a little burn out, Byers?"
Will wanted to squirm under the sudden scrutiny. He didn't know what the right answer was. Because, no, he didn't smoke up. He knew his brother did sometimes. And his mom wasn't shy about her past. But Will hadn't ever tried because he was scared. Scared of what he'd see behind his eyes, see in the shadows if his mind was warped. Billy seemed intrigued with the idea of Will rebelling like that though, and there was a small part of Will that wanted suddenly to impress Billy.
Will settled for shrugging and looking away. Billy barked out a laugh, but Will couldn't tell what the other boy had decided to believe. "Iron Maiden, huh?"
That had Will's attention again. He nodded and got up, tired of Billy looming in his space. He moved some tapes around so he could find the one treasured tape he owned. He swapped out Sabotage for Piece of Mind . They stood next to each other as Where Eagles Dare began. Will was almost as tall as Billy, which seemed impossible. Billy was larger than life.
The scent of cigarette smoke hung like an aura around Billy, sharper than what his mom smoked, but Will found himself noticing the darker scent of cologne beneath. He fidgeted with the corner of the plastic case.
"See? Not shrieking. He's singing about war."
Billy was quiet as he listened to the song. "Yeah, okay. This one isn't so bad. Still can't party to it."
Will shrugged again. "I don't party to anything" He used to play music for the party, but that obviously wasn't what Billy meant. "I just like how it sounds. The songs are stories, not just crowing about babes and beer." Will sounded judgmental because he really didn't give a shit about those songs that bragged about banging and partying.
Billy tilted his head, smirk still in place. "That's because you haven't bagged a babe or probably even had a beer yet."
"Whatever," Will spit the word out vehemently.
"S'okay, Byers. You're just a late bloomer." Billy gave him an appraising look. "Pretty soon your hormones and shit are gonna kick in and all you'll be able to think about is getting your dick wet."
Recoiling, Will said, "You're disgusting." His face felt like it was on fire.
Billy just laughed. "That's what they tell me."
The room felt too small, and Will was so over this conversation. He hit the stop button and turned to leave. "I need to go put the clothes over." He needed to get out of there.
Unfortunately, Billy followed, asking why Will was worried about his chores. Will had a feeling that Billy had been amused by making him uncomfortable, had been happy to find a sore spot that he could needle as a form of entertainment. It looked like that near death experience hadn't changed Billy too much after all.
Eleven was in the kitchen with Max, and they were eating handfuls of Doritos straight from the bag at the counter when Will and Billy passed by.
"Don't eat them all. Mom bought those for a snack later."
Max gave him a look. "We're eating them as a snack, duh." Then she smiled and held out a Dorito dust covered handful of chips. "Want some, Will?"
"Jesus, Max," Billy complained over Will's polite decline.
Will ignored the sound of chips falling to the floor as Max threw her handful at Billy in retaliation. He went over to the washer and dryer where they were tucked into a closet next to the pantry. There was a thwack followed by Max cursing at Billy and Eleven snickering. Will opened the dryer and pulled the towels out so he could pile them on top before moving the second load over. He started folding the towels and washcloths, shoulders feeling tight.
"Hello!" Mom said as she walked into the living room later that day. She sat her purse down on the coffee table, looking at the four of them. She had a look on her face that made Will worried that she knew they'd skipped school.
"Hello," Billy was the first to respond. He stood up from the recliner where he'd been sitting, and held out a hand for a shake. "Thanks for having us." Will watched the older boy give his mom a soft smile that, surprisingly, didn't look as smarmy as expected. Maybe because the first time Billy had attempted to flirt with her, Will's mom had rolled her eyes and told him to knock it off.
Mom waved her hand after giving Billy's a quick squeeze. "The kids were way too happy at the prospect for me to say no." She looked at Will and Eleven, and her smile went a little sad the way it did sometimes. Will tried returning a happier smile of his own, but he knew it felt forced. Mom sighed but didn't say anything about it. Will figured she was taking a step back. She and Jonathan had both tried on multiple occasions to get him to open up about how he felt about...anything, but Will always shut them down. He didn't know what to tell them—what was safe to talk about, that wouldn't make them feel bad or like they'd somehow failed him? Mom already carried so much self imposed guilt. Will didn't want to add to that.
"Well, Jonathan won't be home for dinner, and I'm starved. What do you guys say to pizza?" Mom suggested brightly. Her gaze shifted again to something happier as she looked at the four kids in her living room.
Max and Eleven yelled in agreement, and Will nodded along because his stomach was growling. When Mom walked over to the phone, she asked, "You wild dogs already ate all the Doritos?" She wasn't mad though, just amused when she caught sight of the bag sitting on top of the pile in the trash can.
Will had been dreading the night, if he was honest. Max was cool and all, but she was a girl. He and Max didn't have the shared history that he had with the founding members of the party. Besides, El spent hours in her bedroom talking to Max about God knew what while Will couldn't help but count the days between hearing from Mike, Lucas, and Dustin.
They'd all had dinner, and Mom had hung out in the living room for a couple hours watching TV, drawing Billy into stilted conversation about nothing of substance. Will had lingered, unsure what to do but unwilling to invite himself into El's room where she and Max were. Billy disappeared for a while, but Mom didn't seem concerned even when he wasn't back after Jonathan came home. She'd gotten Will to help prepare the couch for an overnight guest before heading to her own bed.
Later, Will woke up around two thirty. The house seemed quiet, and he could hear the gentle chirp of crickets outside his window, the occasional vehicle passing down the nearby highway. Will stared at the clock on his desk, illuminated by the faint moonlight coming in through the blinds. Two thirty-three, two thirty-four, two thirty-five. He rolled over and pulled the blanket up to his chin.
Sleep was illusive.
Will padded to the bathroom and took care of business before heading into the kitchen for some water, giving himself something to do.
The lamp was still on in the living room, and Will could see the TV on though the sound was muted. He hesitated.
"Is everything okay?" He asked lamely from the doorway. Billy had returned at some point and made himself comfortable.
Billy peered at him from over his shoulder. He was sitting on the couch with the blanket Mom had given him, pooled in his lap. "Yeah. Sure."
Will hesitated but took a step closer. He walked over to the couch and perched against the arm farthest from Billy. "What are you watching?"
" Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous . You know, getting ideas." It looked like regular programming was finished for the night though. Now some infomercial about a kitchen gadget was playing.
"What are you doing up?" Billy asked, voice rough. He looked tired and uninterested.
Will slid down from his perch onto the edge of the couch cushion. "Can't sleep."
"Yeah," was all Billy said. He crossed his arms and leaned back, sort of glaring at nothing. The blue glow of the television flickered across Billy's skin, highlighting the webbing of scars visible beneath the fold of his arm.
Will stared, suddenly impatient to see all the scars. What he could see still looked pink and irritated, fresh. It had been almost six weeks since the final battle. But, it took a while for that kind of damage to heal, if it ever truly healed at all.
"How bad was it?" Will asked in a hushed voice. It wasn't what he really wanted to ask. He didn't think he was brave enough, might never be brave enough to ask what it had really been like for Billy.
Will didn't want to know. If he knew, then he'd compare it to his own experience, dwell on how bad things could have been for himself if he hadn't been lucky.
Billy wasn't lucky. Will already knew that. Billy was dangerous and unknowable.
Billy must have checked what Will was looking at, because he dropped his arms again. He had changed into sweat pants at some point, but had chosen to go to topless. Now Will could see nearly everything except the left side curve of Billy's side where Will knew the Mindflayer had impaled him. The wound in the center of Billy's chest looked the worst. How anyone could have survived being lifted on tethers like that, Will couldn't fathom.
"They told me I crashed the Camaro in the mall parking lot." Billy's mouth twisted. "Crazy, huh?"
Will's eyes were wide. He hadn't considered how Billy had been saved or what official story had been made up so that the average citizen didn't start freaking out or asking too many questions. He watched Billy's hand rise so fingers could trace along a particularly rough looking gash of flesh.
"Collapsed lung, concussion, shit ton of internal bleeding, broken ribs. Legally dead for a little while." Billy listed off his injuries as his fingers pressed against his chest.
Will flinched. "Doesn't that hurt?" He wanted to touch it too.
"I'm not bleeding still, dipshit," Billy admonished lightly. He sighed and dropped his hand back to his lap. "It's mostly numb. Sometimes it itches. The doctor said it would do that as my nerves healed and woke back up."
"Oh."
He should go back to bed. Billy clearly didn't want to rehash his near death experience, and Will didn't know why he had asked anyway. He and Billy barely interacted, even in the brief months things were mostly chill between them all.
"Hey."
Billy looked over at him, met Will's gaze headon. Will had forgotten how intensely blue his eyes were. He startled when Billy turned to face him more.
"Do you still get nightmares?" Billy asked quietly enough that the gravel of his voice almost made it too difficult to understand. He was mumbling like he didn't want anyone to hear his question.
Will nodded his head, because he didn't know how else to answer. He had nightmares all the time, not just when he slept. Sometimes it felt like he could see the Upside-down out of the corner of his eye.
Billy closed his eyes as if pained. "Fuck."
"I don't have them as bad as I used to. It depends on what I've been thinking about." Will pulled his feet onto the couch and hugged his knees to his chest. "I think that's part of why we moved. So I wouldn't be around reminders. Eleven too. Because we need to keep her safe."
"I can't leave," Billy said like he was reminding himself. He asked, "Anything besides nightmares?"
"I don't want to talk about this," Will whispered, feeling insecure and scared.
He didn't talk to Jonathan about this. Didn't talk to Mike about it outside of the times he had to when the Mindflayer was loose. If he talked about it, he'd dream about it. He'd feel even more separated from his family, and it would be his fault.
It was his fault, because he'd been dumb. Weak.
Billy held his gaze, blue eyes tired and reflecting his own fear. Will looked away and pressed his face to his knees for a moment, took some deep breaths.
Billy was separated too, wasn't he? Whatever Will had experienced, Billy had been through worse in every way possible.
He turned back to Billy and nodded slowly. "I see stuff, sometimes." He was whispering. "Did you...did you go there? The Upside-down?"
Billy seemed to freeze and stop breathing. Finally, he panted out, "Yeah. I think so. The Dark place. Rot. Decay."
Will shivered. "I see it sometimes, when I'm not paying attention. It's like I can see the cracks into that dimension, or like it's oozing through my peripheral."
"Everything was dead there." Unconsciously, Billy pulled up the blanket in his lap so it hung over his shoulders as he turned to sit criss-crossed on the couch, facing Will fully.
"Do you see it?" Will chewed his bottom lip.
"In the shadows, sometimes. I wake up in bed, but I'm not fully awake. Can't move. Can't say anything. And those black tentacles hold me down until I stop struggling."
In the lamp light, Billy's eyes shone with unshed tears, and his face was tense like he could feel the restraint and fear as a palpable thing. Will reached out and curled his hand over Billy's wrist. It was warm, thicker than his own. He kept his touch light, expecting Billy to throw it off, tell him to fuck off after showing a moment of vulnerability.
Will didn't know why he did it, just that he needed Billy to know he wasn't alone now. Will needed that reminder for himself. Billy tensed at the touch. He didn't pull away though. He didn't acknowledge Will's hand. He closed his eyes.
"It's dead now, and the gate is destroyed, not just closed." Will spoke with conviction. "Our nightmares and stuff are just memories. It's not real anymore."
Max and Eleven were sitting at the table when Will woke up. He headed towards the plate of bacon still sitting where his mom left it after cooking breakfast. He'd slept in and already felt behind. The pancakes were gone, but WIll grabbed some of the bacon and folded a slice of bread around them before taking a big bite. He turned around just as Max was insisting all girls should know how to braid hair.
“I don’t know how to braid,” Mom said matter-of-factly as she was coming into the kitchen to refill her coffee mug. She shook her head with a rueful smile. “I guess I never really needed to learn. After all, I’ve got two boys.”
Will watched Max give Eleven a look before she shifted her attention to Mom. “I’m going to teach El. I could teach you too?”
At that, Mom laughed, “Sounds like fun. It’s always nice to learn something new. Maybe Eleven and I could do each other’s hair sometime.” She looked sincere about that, and when Will checked Eleven’s reaction, there was a guarded hope in her eyes.
Will wondered if that’s what he’d looked like when Bob had offered to learn D&D so Will could try running a one-shot campaign.
“How will we practice now?” Eleven asked, looking at Max expectantly. She had her fingers in her hair, playing with the ends distractedly as if she was already imagining the braids.
That’s when Mom pinned WIll with a mischievous expression. “I think I know some volunteers we could rope into helping.”
That’s how Will ended up folded on the floor later, knee brushing up against Billy’s. Jonathan was on Billy’s other side. Behind them, Mom and the girls were side by side on the couch with Max in the middle as she attempted to explain how to braid. Eleven had already brushed Will’s hair carefully.
“You just grab three parts like this, pull one of the outside bits over the middle then pull the opposite side over the middle the same way,” Max said.
Will winced when Elevent tugged at a strand of hair a little too sharply. He could feel Eleven’s fingers moving his hair, but had no idea if it was going well. When El let out a frustrated noise, he asked her quietly if everything was alright.
“No. This isn’t working.” Eleven let go of the hair in her hand and started picking apart whatever progress she had made. “Show me again,” she asked Max.
“Ow, Mom!” Jonathan complained, and Mom shushed him with a quiet apology.
“Like this,” Max said, before turning and taking hold of a section of Will’s hair so she could make three strands to braid.
Her movements felt a lot less stilted than Eleven’s had, and Max didn’t make his scalp sting by accident. Eleven started another attempt, and WIll closed his eyes at the alien feeling of someone playing with his hair. As long as no one tugged too sharply, it felt nice. Maybe this is why girls were always messing with their hair.
Next to him, Billy said, “Will barely even has enough hair to braid.” When Will cut his eyes over at him, he could see the teasing smile on Billy’s face. “If you’re going to be a metal head, shouldn’t you grow your hair out?”
“Metal head?” Mom asked, curious, as Billy snorted quietly.
Will could feel his face heating up, but chose not to say anything. He hadn’t been actively trying to grow his hair out, but he was already a couple weeks late for a trim, not that any of them needed to know that. Thankfully, no one else decided to comment on the state of Will’s hair, and Max went back to teaching the girls how to braid.
It took almost thirty minutes, but when it was over, Will had two successful braids lurking somewhere on the back of his head. When he looked over at Billy, Max had done what she called a “dutch braid” down the middle of Billy’s head. It looked sort of like a fuzzy fin with wisps of curl escaping towards the front where Billy’s hair was shorter. To himself, Will thought it looked kind of cool, and Billy didn’t immediately force Max to undo her work. Jonathan’s hair looked the most like a rat’s nest though. Mom had done one shaky braid that somehow curved to the side instead of laid flat.
When Jonathan held up the hand mirror that Mom had brought in before they started, he said, “I don’t think beauty school is in the cards for you, Max”
“That was fun though,” Mom assured Max. She undid the tie at the bottom of Jonathan’s braid and carefully untangled it before she picked up the brush. “Besides, how often do I get to do this sort of thing anymore?” Her voice was quiet, longing in a way that had Will almost offering to let his mom braid his hair too.
“It’s okay, you can practice on your own hair.” Max told Eleven and Mom. She pulled on the end of Billy’s braid. “How do you like it?”
Will sat up on his knees as he went to stand, but stopped when Billy took the mirror from Jonathan and inspected himself.
“Not bad, Max.” He handed the mirror over to Will, giving him a once over even though Billy couldn’t see the braids with the way WIll was turned now. “What do you think?”
He looked over at El instead, purposely ignoring the question. “You’ll get better. It felt nice, anyway.” Will stood up and reached behind his head to take the elastics out of his hair blindly before handing them back to Max.
As Will was helping pull Jonathan up from the floor, the telephone rang. Mom answered it while Max and Eleven took their hair stuff with them to the bedroom.
“Will, it’s for you.” Mom held out the receiver for him with a smile.
As soon as Will said hello , Mike was on him. “Did you know Max was going to skip school yesterday?”
“Yeah?” He checked to make sure Mom wasn’t hanging around nearby and listening to his conversation. “That was the plan they came up with.”
Over the phone, he could hear Mike huff. “Okay, but there was a test in English that Max missed. She’s going to get a zero on it, because it’s unexcused and there’s no way Mrs. Halve will let her make it up.
“Like, I don’t get why she got to go anyway. Nancy could have driven up, and I could have gone with her!”
With a frown, WIll listened to Mike complain. For the past two weeks, since Eleven had hesitantly asked Mom if Billy and Max could stay the weekend, Mike had been jealous. Will would have been a little more sympathetic if he knew Mike was upset about more than the fact that Max got to do something he didn’t.
“You’re still coming up for Thanksgiving, though, right?” Will interjected, hoping to cut Mike’s whining off before he really built up steam. “For the whole vacation?”
“Hell yeah, I am,” Mike said fervently. “Not just two nights, but for three! It’s going to be awesome. Mom and Dad said Nancy and I could go on our own. I bet we even get a hotel room.”
“Oh,” Will said. “Cool.”
He’d assumed Mike would be staying at the house like Billy and Max were. Will had already wasted a lot of time wishing for Thanksgiving to get here so that he could spend some real time with one of his best friends again. He’d pictured them up all night in the living room, watching stupid movies and talking. He missed their sleepovers.
“Do you think your mom would let Eleven come hang out at the pool if there’s an indoor one?”
Billy appeared in WIll’s peripheral, bringing an empty glass into the kitchen. Will watched Billy pull his keys from the pocket of his jeans and accidentally caught Billy’s eye.
“Hey, Mike, I gotta go, sorry.” Will said, still looking at Billy who had paused. WIll hung up the phone and asked, “Are you leaving?”
Billy gave him an indecipherable look before answering. “Yeah. You wanna go with?”
It turned out that Billy wasn’t going on an errand—not that there were likely to be many errands Billy might need to run while out of town. When Will asked where they were going, Billy simply said, “Just driving around. It helps me clear my head.”
When Jonathan had used that excuse in the past, Will had always assumed that it was a cover for hooking up with Nancy. Maybe driving was just something that people did, though. He’d never asked to join Jonathan, afraid of being told he was too little or that he would be getting in the way.
Will tried imagining what it would be like once he got his license and could drive on his own. Yeah, he’d probably enjoy being able to put the windows down and crank the music as loud as he wanted as he cruised around without anything pressing down on him.
Billy had already found the local rock station, and it was playing quietly in the background as they eased onto the main drag of town. Will and Billy both had their windows cracked open to let in the warm, late summer air. Pretty soon, it would be too cold to drive with the windows down. For now, it felt nice, free.
“You left your braid in?” Will got up the nerve to comment. He was turned slightly in his seat, cocked towards Billy. He’d been sneaking looks at the other boy for a few minutes now. He just couldn’t figure him out .
Billy raised a hand and carefully ran his fingers over the bumps of the braid along his scalp. It should have looked stupid. Braids weren’t for boys. But from his angle, Will thought Billy kind of looked like a viking, the breeze ruffling his blonde hair. The image of Billy’s scars flashed in Will’s mind. Billy had fought a great battle and had the scars to prove it.
“It’s all right. Max isn’t so great at teaching, but she can braid pretty well.” Billy looked over at him before reaching out to Will. “You left yours in too, you know.” He chuckled as his fingers tangled in the lopsided braids at the back of Will’s head.
A shiver ran down Will’s back and arms when Billy’s fingers lingered for a moment, lightly working loose one of the braids. Billy’s hand was gone in a flash though as the traffic light they had been stopped at turned green. Will took over the task of untangling his own hair, eyes downcast as he focused.
“It was nice of Max to try teaching them.” He finished loosening the first braid and began on the other. “I remember Max braided El’s hair a lot before we moved. She’ll like being able to do that for herself.”
Billy nodded absently, but didn’t say anything more. He seemed to be preoccupied with more than just driving. Will watched the older boy from beneath his lashes as he combed his fingers clumsily through his hair, hoping the tangles were gone. Halfway through Bon Jovi’s Only Lonely , Will realized Billy was humming to the music. Billy was actually singing along under his breath.
“I didn’t know you sing,” Will spoke, still wrapped up in the shock of witnessing Billy Hargrove singing along to the radio.
“I don’t.” Billy answered back briskly. He shot a glance over at Will before huffing. “They play this song a lot back home.”
“Yeah, it gets played here a lot too.” Will pulled his legs up so he was slouched in the bench seat, knees pressed against the glove compartment in front of him. “It doesn’t seem to matter what station it is. They only have like fifteen songs in rotation.” He smiled when Billy snorted in amusement at his observation.
“Thank God for albums.” With that, Billy switched the radio over to the tape deck.
When WIll asked who was playing, Billy blindly picked up a jewel case and tossed it into his lap. “It’s Metallica, dumbass. They’re from the Bay area like me.”
Will held the plastic carefully in his hands as he inspected the cardboard insert. Black, red, and white, with a bloody hammer on the cover. He read over the song titles, reread the album name so he’d remember it next time he went to the mall.
Billy fast-forwarded through the tape, saying, “This. Listen to this, here.”
Will closed his eyes and closed his hands around the cassette case as he listened to a voice say “Bass solo take one.” They drove in silence as the song played.
The silence was filled with...
Goosebumps broke out over Will’s skin as the bass guitar built and built in the small space of Billy’s truck. Will didn’t think he could have said he’d ever heard a truly beautiful metal song before, but that song couldn’t be described as anything but beautiful. His heart was beating faster. He wanted more. He wanted to cry just because of the passion that was clearly rolling off of whoever was playing that bass.
“Wow,” he said when the song ended. When he looked over at Billy, the older boy was smiling and nodding in agreement.
Billy had a hard time sleeping again on Saturday night. New places would do that, he’d heard. As he lay on the Byers’s couch, Billy couldn’t help wondering if he’d ever find peace. He hadn’t slept a full night since before summer. The sleep he did get was fitful and restless. Most of the time he dreaded even attempting to sleep because there was a fifty-fifty chance he would have a nightmare that left him shaking.
“Are you awake?” A soft voice startled him from his wallowing. When Billy pushed up on his elbows, he saw Eleven standing along the outskirts of the lamplight.
“Yeah.” He sat up. “What are you doing up?”
Did any of these kids sleep all night? First Will, now Eleven.
Eleven walked over and stood by Billy’s feet. “I wake up a lot. Bad dreams.”
The way she could look at a person made Billy feel skittish. She’d already been inside his head. She’d seen him.
“Is that a parting gift from,” Billy waved his hand between them, trying to indicate all the Shadow bullshit. Mindflayer and Upside Down are how Max and Will referred to it all. He sighed. “Will was up last night too, I think.”
Eleven’s eyebrows rose briefly before she asked, “He talked to you?”
Billy made a noncommittal sound in reply. Will had talked to him, even if it wasn’t for very long. He had a feeling that Will wasn’t going around talking about his experience with the Upside Down often. He didn’t know if Will would like people knowing that he’d talked to Billy about it.
She must have sensed his discomfort, because Eleven nodded. She didn’t leave like Billy was expecting. Instead, Eleven walked closer and sat down on the coffee table. Her nightshirt was a long sleeved shirt that looked about three sizes too big for her. She pulled the hemline down over the knobs of her knees and tucked her hands into the extra long sleeves.
That was probably one of the Chief’s old shirts.
“You were in the hospital when we left.” She started, staring into Billy’s eyes. “I never got to tell you thank you.”
Billy rubbed a hand over his chest. He did it without conscious thought. “You don’t need to thank me for anything.” He looked down at his hand and pressed the tips of his fingers in enough to spark an ache below the skin. “After what I did, it was the least I owed everyone.”
“No one else knows how hard it is. Will is close, I think. But he was able to hide for most of it. It wasn’t focused on him the same way. I think you know exactly how hard it is though, Billy. It got deep inside you, and you still fought it off.”
“Fuck,” Billy muttered. He was staring at his lap with a frown. He didn’t want to fucking talk about this. He didn’t want thanks for buying them some time to get out of there. “I didn’t do shit. I could see everything. Everything , okay? I could barely claw my way back up to protect Max and Susan. If you hadn’t gotten in my head I—” His voice gave out and he sucked in a breath.
He knew what would have happened. He would have killed Eleven. He would have served her up like an offering to the Shadow then helped kill everyone else if the Shadow didn’t choose to kill him first. His willpower had been so thin by that point.
Fighting to warn Steve when the Shadow was trying to force his body to run them all down in the Camaro had taken almost every ounce of power he had.
“But you didn’t, Billy.” Eleven leaned forward in earnestness. When Billy refused to meet her eyes, she slumped a little.
Eleven got up without saying anything else to, presumably, go back to bed. Before she was gone, Billy said, “Thank you. For pulling me back.”
There was a pause, and Eleven responded. She said, “You deserve better than what happened to you.”
Shame and longing twisted up inside Billy at her words, and he was thankful she left him alone. A hot tear slid down his cheek in the silence of the living room as Billy laid back down to try to fall asleep.
“Give us a call when you make it home,” Joyce instructed them. She startled Billy by giving him a squeeze on the shoulder.
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, unsure what had warranted the gesture. He watched as Joyce pulled Max into a slightly awkward side hug. “Thank you for letting us crash here.”
Billy wondered what it felt like to have a hug from Joyce, even if it was a side hug. Her hand had been strong on his shoulder, but it had felt warm and like she was trying to press into him how important their safety was to her. He looked away from Joyce as she waved off his thanks.
His gaze landed on Will who had been hanging back from where Max and Eleven were saying their own goodbyes. Jonathan was at work already, but had told Billy he’d enjoyed seeing him (which had felt weird as hell, but still better than dealing with animosity).
Will met his gaze and seemed to seize up. His shoulders went stiff as he tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked a little back and forth on his feet.
“Thanks for not having shi—” Billy cut his eyes over to Joyce even though she rolled her eyes at his self-censor. “Crappy taste in music. That Iron Maiden stuff was alright.”
He watched Will’s cheeks redden at the complement. Billy got the sense that Will wasn’t used to anyone thinking highly of his opinion on things. In the past, Billy had seen the way Mike and the other dweebs talked over Will a lot. Will didn’t make a point to be heard, even though he clearly did have something to say.
Max gave Eleven one more hug before rubbing her eyes on the back of her hand and getting into the truck.
“Hey,” Billy stopped and turned back as he reached for the handle on his door.”Um.”
Will was standing behind him even though Eleven and Joyce had headed back to the house.
“What’s up?” Billy asked, surprised.
Will still had his hands in his pockets, but he pulled one out and held it palm up to present a folded up piece of notebook paper. “Here. It’s our, uh, number.” Will chewed on his bottom lip and didn’t quite meet Billy’s eyes. “You know, just in case.”
Billy took the paper and slid it into his own pocket. He looked at Will’s hand, where it fell to hang at his side. WIll had slender hands with long fingers. Billy had seen some of the artwork hanging on the Byers’s refrigerator. Will had artist hands.
He had a sense memory of WIll’s hand wrapped around his forearm the other night. Will had touched him willingly, with comfort written in the gesture. This guy who Billy hadn’t given a shit about had wanted to make him feel better.
“Cool,” he said. His voice sounded rough. “Here.” He turned and opened the truck door so he could grab a pen from his book bag before turning back to Will.
He took the paper out of his pocket and tore off a clean section. On it, he wrote his own phone number and handed it to Will. “If you ever need a recommendation on more music that doesn’t suck, you know where to call.” He gave Will a smirk, enjoying the way the other boy looked flustered.
“Um, yeah. Thanks.” He stared down at the paper as if awed for a moment before he took a blind step backwards and gave Billy a little wave. “Bye, I guess.”
Billy snorted and got into the truck.
“What was that about?” Max demanded, eyes dancing in amusement.
“None of your business.”
Billy ignored Max’s “You’re so weird.”
A few miles down the road, Max asked, “You had a good time, right?”
Billy thought about it for a moment. He hadn’t gone on this trip expecting to enjoy himself. He’d just been hoping to burn off some pent up energy, make Max happy along the way. The nights had been weird, but it had also been grounding to have people around that understood in a way Max just wouldn’t ever be able to understand.
He smiled to himself. “Yeah, I had a good time.”