Work Text:
Billy used to remember calling his mom at work. She worked nights, which was the worst because it was when he was home with his dad. He knew that was when she made money. That he was creating a problem.
And maybe he was just crying wolf. It was just a few scratches after all. A split lip here, black eye there. And his mom was a nurse, she could patch him up when she got home.
“Mom. He’s real… no, I know. I know. I’m sorry mom. I’ll apologize to him. I… yeah. Sorry.”
After she left, he got the picture. Don’t call for help. Don’t create a problem. And then people won’t leave.
“Why didn’t you call me?” Steve was standing over him. The blue winter sky beamed down on Billy, Christmas lights still clutched between his numbing fingers. He was still too stunned from the fall to get up.
“Don’t need help, Pretty Boy, it’s fine.”
Steve offered his hand and… it would be rude not to take it. “I’d prefer if you call me for help.”
Billy blinked.
“You ok?”
Billy nodded.
“Just call. Anytime, ok?” Steve cracked a smile. “I live to help you.”
It’s something they’re working on.