#🛹 x 011

[hargrove-mayfields]

For my best friend, @eddie-munsons-guitar86!

Raven requested: Angela and her crew harassing el outside of highschool and billy stepping in

trigger warnings for: bullying, sexual harassment, ableism, and implied abuse.

In California, El is allowed to go to school.

In California, the people aren’t like the party. They aren’t her friends.

Max told her that when she and her brother moved into the duplex apartment next to the new house she shares with her family. It’s nice to have people so close who know their secret. Person.

Only Max ever visits for dinner. She’s not scared of Max’s big brother. Not even when she watches him burn their Christmas card from her window, or when she sees the big tears in his eyes that reflect in the first. He stopped burning them after she left a few dozen more in their mailbox.

If Will is her brother, and the party are her friends, then Max is more than all of that combined. But she isn’t here right now. She has classes in the other end of the building, for the program El isn’t allowed into. Joyce says it’s special, what Max learns, and it makes her jealous, but she’s happy.

They meet up at the end of every day outside, sometimes Max gives her a bracelet she made in class, or a sticker she found on her paper, and always a kiss on the cheek, and then they ride home in their cars.

But today…

“Hey snitch! Wait up.”

Angela. Her worst not-friend. Max says her voice sounds like chalkboard nails and vomit. Whatever that means, El agrees. It makes her feel a chill in her spine that makes her walk a little faster out of the front doors.

Her automatic response is to try to reject her, “School is over, Angela.”

There’s more of her friends than there is El though. Max is on the other side of the school, and El is closed in right outside the front door. Dread burns under her skin.

She’s reminded of the last time, when she tried to use her powers. Max wasn’t here in their new town yet, so nobody told her what to do. Nobody knew.

There’s three things. Walk away. Get help. Fight back, with fists. Until it’s that bad, she tries to just go fast.

But Angela catches her by the arm. “Hey, now. We just wanted to catch up.”

El sets her jaw, stays determined, “I'm going home.”

“Hm, you’re cute.” Angela sneers at her. El doesn’t understand what that has to do with anything. Will tried to teach her about ‘sarcasm.’ That must be what it is, but she doesn’t have time to work through it before Angela is laughing in her face.

The bully flicks the front of her shirt, where there's a patch by one of the buttons that ripped off. “Well, not really. I mean, just look at what you’re wearing. What is this, Cinderella?”

“Cinder-ella?” El can’t even tell if it’s mean. She’s just confused.

Until someone from Angela’s crowd shouts, clearing away any doubt, “It means you're ugly and poor.”

Her face turns red and warm. Embarrassed. They talk to her like a child. A stupid child. That’s what they call her. “That isn’t nice.”

It wasn’t the right thing to say. They say she’s slow. That she can’t keep up. It feels that way every time Angela speaks again. El doesn’t get any of it.

“Oh, don’t worry. We’ll help you. Just think of me like, your fairy godmother.”

It’s not hard to understand what happens next.

Angela grabs the sleeve of her patched-up shirt, and pulls. It knocks El off her balance and she falls. Her backpack is heavy, and it makes her tip over on her front. The sidewalk scrapes her hands and makes them burn.

Hunched over, there are people behind her. They look at her strangely. They say things.

“No wonder she hides under all those ugly clothes.”

”Looks like the freak grew up.”

El doesn’t know what’s wrong with her. Her body.

And then the touches start. One of the boys smacks her on the bottom. She falls forward again and they all laugh.

So they keep doing it.

Then their hands start to linger.

“Stop it!” El demands, with the most power she can manage in her voice.

But her powers are gone. And she’s scared.

“We just want to get to know you better, Jane.” Angela kneels down to address her to her face. While the boys who are her friends hurt El. She pouts. Fake. Like a snap, that face changes.

“So why don’t you open up!” She grabs the shirt El is wearing by the neck part, and pulls again. Laughs.

The shirt tears in half. It was broken when it got washed, before that it was Hoppers. Now there’s just one sleeve left on her. She’s just in a tank top and jeans and the scraps of her dad's shirt. Cold.

Cold tears on her face.

The bullies are laughing. Hurting her. Yelling.

“Everyone, come help poor Jane!”

“Tell her what you think of her new look!”

Across the parking lot, parked in the only blue painted space on campus, is the scariest person she’s not scared of.

For fifteen minutes every weekday, Billy smokes a cigarette while he waits to pick Max up. Just Max. He doesn’t have the time of day to chauffeur her little friends around. He spends enough time waiting around, like there’s shit else better he can do than waste his life away looking out for his shitty little sister.

Not that he believes that anymore.

But it keeps his mind busy from the ache in his chest and the faint taste of blood that accompanies every cigarette. Every day is the same damn thing. The most interesting thing that happens is a small crowd gathering right by the front entrance of the school.

Usually he just keeps an eye on the bus doors, since that’s where Max always leaves from, but he’s been extra high alert lately. Tipped off by the shitbird herself about some new bully chick that’d been bothering them all since they started up school this year.

Running with a gut feeling, he decides to check it out further for himself. The worst that could happen is it wasn’t Max or her friends, and he still helps some random kid out. Not ideal for the loner image he’s been going for since the accident, but better than standing by while some freshman gets the shit beat out of them or something. He’d done enough of that uncaring shit.

If there’s one thing Billy Hargrove is good at, it’s being intimidating. His name carries implications anymore, rumors and half-truths turning him into this figure shrouded in mystery and paranoia.

He can use that to his advantage.

He approaches the chaos, cigarette dangling from his lips, thumbs hooked through his belt loops. It’s not really intimidating, he looks like a fake cowboy from the westerns his dad used to watch with the volume turned up too loud to drown out the sound of some other violence, but to a bunch of freshmen, it will do.

“The hell’s going on over here?”

They clearly know who he is. Even here in their old home, the reputation of being Zombie boy number two followed him. Someone looked him up in the papers and found out some shit they weren’t supposed to know. It makes it too easy.

One of the brats, not the one that has her hands on the girl, rebuts, “We don’t have to answer to you, freak.”

How original.

Billy rolls his eyes. He’s too old for this.

Something those little shits aren’t expecting is for him to flick his cigarette away, and blow the last of the smoke in one of their nasty faces. It’s intimidation, it’s gross, it’s scandalous. The audacity!

The circle of them breaks into two halves, so he shoves past the stragglers to stand between them and El. She stands up behind him and turns the other way. Too embarrassed to even face the people who hurt her get put in their place. A little more fuel hits the rage fire burning in Billy’s brain.

They want a monster? A freak? He’ll give ‘em one.

First priority is giving the girl something to cover up with. He shrugs off his jacket and tosses it down beside her to take when she wants it. She grabs it immediately and wraps it around herself, looking the most like a scared kid he’s ever seen her. That’s saying a lot.

There’s scars all over him. His arms, his chest, his face. Doctors did a number on him trying to fix what the shadow did. He’s weak. He hurts.

But these shitty kids don’t need to know that. All they need to know is that he’s got a past, and the nasty red and white bumps to prove it.

They look set off just from him removing his jacket. This is going to be easy.

“You know, in my last town. Population went down by a couple digits ‘fore I left. Shouldn’t be too hard to catch up now. Just need a match and a bottle of something strong. I’ll make quick work of it.”

Almost word for word what the tabloid papers said. He laughs bitterly at his own words.

“That’s all just a bunch of rumors though.”

You’d think nobody ever stood up to them before. Staring at him like a bunch of damn fish gasping for a last breath. Sheltered little fucks never had to deal with consequences. It gives Billy an idea.

He’s still no saint. Might as well use up that bitter rage pooling in his chest just waiting for a lit match to hit and engulf him in it again.

So he takes it up one more notch. Billy haunches over, so they seem smaller and he seems more capable of doing anything other than posing in a certain unsettling way.

He’s right in the face of the ringleader, watching her cocky confidence drain away into concern. Fear.

He’ll entertain that, “Don’t you want to know how I got my scars?”

“It was from a fire.” The preppy blonde chick doesn’t seem so brave now, suggesting that answer skeptically.

Billy laughs at her, for dramatic effect. He’s still got too much shit to work through about Starcourt to actually feel anything though. “No, that’s what they said.”

Angela, or whatever her name is, seems to get what he means. She also seems about five seconds away from pissing her pants in fear. Good.

These kids can assault girls they barely know, but can’t stand a little ghost story. Serves them damn right.

“Just remember that. If I ever see you kids near Jane again, there might just be a new rumor in our very own Lenora hills.” Billy threatens, letting his voice drop as rough and mean as he can.

“They’ll say it was a fire, alright. An accident. Just. Like. Last time.”

Maybe he meant that a little too much.

Maybe he still blames himself.

Maybe he had to save the girl again. To prove something to himself.

Before it becomes too real, he tells them, “Go.”

Worse than Hawkins, they run. Scattered across the flat parking lot like pillars of an overarching shadow. Billy feels sick.

After the last of them are out of his sight, He finally turns his attention to the little girl. Call it a favor for saving his life. Not that he’d need a reason. The poor girl’s been through a lot, but nothing like this. She looks so scared it makes him want to tear all those shitty little bastards apart.

Eyes still fixed to the front, Billy asks her, carrying too much tension and hurt in his voice for his own good, “You alright back there?”

She picks up her bag, the few things that spilled from it, and declares, like she’s unfazed, “Yes.”

Billy knows what that’s like. Pretending to be strong. He knows she knows too. He can’t pretend he’s not worried about the kid, after everything.

“They didn’t hurt you or anythin’? ‘Cause I could chase ‘em down and show them a thing or two about karma.” He offers. She’s seen the things he can do in his head, so she’ll know he means it.

The kid must be better than he is though, because she just shakes her head, highlighting the fact that those assholes roughed up her hair into tangles.

“No. Just.. upset.”

Billy takes her word for it. He’s distanced himself since July. There’s no need to push it. “I hear you. Your brother drive you today?”

“He’s at home ill. Will and me are going to ride on the bus.” She explains it so carefully, like that’s the right answer. Those assholes will be on the bus though. He’s not leaving two kids to fend for themselves out there.

He shakes his keys, and acts casual about it. Whether it’s to act cool or just to make sure he doesn’t upset El more, he’s not sure yet, but he does know he’s going to do the right thing, “Come on. I’ll give you shits a ride then.”

Billy lets her go at her pace. He’s on guard already, she’ll be safe behind her while they walk back to his car.

Max already made it there, the Byers kid is with her too, probably looking for his sister. Billy almost feels bad to step out of the way and let them see the shape she’s in.

The second they see El, her face red with tears, her hair in knots and wearing Billy’s jacket, Max gasps, rushing to her side across the space that’s left between them. She touches her face, looking her over, “Oh my god, El! What happened?”

Billy remembers when Max was rushing to him like that, screaming his name as his whole world went black. He shivers, and leans against his Firebird, the replacement for his Camaro.

“I-“ El opens her mouth to explain, but she shakes her head. All the emotions hit her all over again and she’s overwhelmed.

She looks to Billy. Those watery brown puppy dog eyes tell him everything he needs to know. He gets it, but he doesn’t understand, “You want me to tell them?”

El nods, and hides her face in his sister's shoulder. Great.

That means it’s up to him now.

“Some bratty blond and her crew were harassing her. Just some asshole bullies. They won’t do it again though.”

Max’s face falls. To clarify, she hadn’t told him about the bullies necessarily. He overheard through conversations with Joyce and phone calls to Max’s mom. It’s none of his business.

He has legal custody though, so. He’ll listen as carefully as he can without invading her little world. It’s the best he can do when she barely talks to him anymore.

Her tone sounds almost panicked, as she holds Els' shoulders and scans her over, one, twice. Just to make sure she’s real. All these kids have been through too damn much. Makes Billy’s mouth taste more bitter than the cigarettes he burned through on the way here.

“What did they do to her?”

“Were assholes. But I took care of it, alright?” Billy answers shortly, not in the chatting mood, but Max presses on with her questions.

“Was it Angela?”

Billy gets it, her concern. She’s still a shitbird though, and he’s still an asshole. Or he’s just trying to protect El, “Hell if I know. She was a coward and a bitch, if that helps.”

“Yeah, that sounds like her..” Max rolls her eyes at Billy’s lack of helpfulness and turns back to her friend, “Are you okay El?”

Finally a question that isn’t for Billy, like he ever knew a damn thing about these kids and caring about people and shit. He’ll say that’s not why he did it. He doesn’t care. He’s just doing the right thing. To serve himself and earn his place somewhere other than in the dirt with the shadows in his head.

It wouldn’t be true, but he’d say it, if somebody cared to ask.

El stays quiet, but she nods again. That’s their cue to pile into the Firebird, the girls first so they can take up the backseat.

Nobody talks. They hadn’t pretended to like Billy since he was giving rides to the arcade. It’s a tense ride, but it’s also one which lasts twenty minutes; Max caves after three and a half.

“Thanks for helping her. I guess.”

Billy scoffs, annoyed that she’s still so weird around him more than anything, “What was I s’posed to do, leave her there? I’m an asshole, but I’m not evil.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Max grumbles under her breath.

Billy’s instinct is to snap at her, like a hurt animal, “Watch your mouth.”

“I’m just joking, god.” She doesn’t back down like she used to. She doesn’t let him bother her at all.

Max smiles, and she holds her friend's hand, rests it on her lap in a gesture that’s certainly more than friendly, “All that matters is that El is okay.”

Billy’s aware that his sister is bad at self-preservation and worse at social cues, but she’s got to know better than this. Schmoozing it up in front of just anybody. The Byers kid is right there. Just being in the same car as that is making his anxiety spike.

Because Billy can see it for what it is, and he glares at her in the rearview mirror, before looking at the kid in his passenger seat and back at the girls, “Didn’t even know you and the Hopper girl were that close, Maxine.”

How could the shitbird forget all he went through when he was caught the same way with his ‘friend?’ How could she, when she’s the one who told? He thought they were over that.

Max agrees, because she rolls her eyes hard. Apparently he’s out of the loop, “Will knows, Billy.“

“Oh.” Right. Fourteen years old is too old to come to him with dating shit anymore apparently. He’s not sure if that’s a relief or not.

“How come I didn’t know?”

“You don’t have to know all my business.”

“When you’re getting bullied, I kinda do.”

Max hesitates. He knows as well as she does how hard it is to admit that. Took him eighteen years to tell anybody about the bully that was Neil Hargrove. But she doesn’t let it get to her the same way he always had.

Good.

Max argues, “Well nobody else knows, so.. It’s fine.”

Despite himself, Billy decides to argue back. Just like old times, “Is it? After what just happened, don’t need to give the bullies more fuel.”

Shouldn’t have tried to keep up the tradition. Just like old times, Max knows exactly how to cut into his soul.

“I’m not going to change just because someone might be mean to me for something I am.”

She wants to play that way, he’ll give her a reality check. Joyce would kill him if he sped up the car with her kids in it, so he settles for raising his voice, “It’s not a fucking question Max! It’s a goddamn reality.

Before she can argue, El interrupts, in a voice that’s controlled and even, powerful but quiet. “Friends don’t lie.”

The anger melts away instantly. Reveals the frozen, unstable version of himself at his core. “Who’s lying?”

He can’t hide from the girl who’s been in his head, “You lie. You’re hiding a friend.”

Nobody says a word for the rest of the drive. Billy’s too busy turning shit over in his head. About Max having a girlfriend. About having an ex-boyfriend he left behind in Hawkins.

About wishing he was as confident as his sister to make a big move before it was too late and he’s already sacrificed their relationship.

Maybe that’s why he intervened today. To fill some part of himself that’s been empty since he had to leave his love behind. A different kind of love.

Nope. Not him. Not Billy Hargrove, covered in scars. He doesn’t get love.

“Alright you shits, outta my car.”

Billy pulled into their own driveway. He’s not risking getting caught up by Joyce again when their houses are so close. They can walk the distance between.

… As long as they’re close enough that Billy can keep an eye on them.

As they’re climbing out, he promises gruffly, “Next time, I’m charging you nerds a fee.”

“Fee?” El tilts her head, sometimes he forgets how little the poor girl knows.

She and him both. It always feels like he’s doing something wrong with these kids. With himself. His mind was split in two, along with his body, and now he can’t make it up.

Max glares daggers at him, at the same time tucking a messy strand of Els's hair away behind her ear. Too gentle for a little brat. Shitbird’s growing up.

They all are.

“Don’t worry about it. He’s just being a stupid boy.” In simply put terms, El understands. She laughs, and Billy maybe gets why he’s doing all this. Maybe, feels a little less like a monster, when he’s looking out for his two little sisters.

He stares at the ground, doesn’t see it when Max pulls her into a full hug and kisses her cheek, “I’ll see you guys later. Bye El.”

He’s not worried about them yet. They’ve missed out on being kids. They’ve seen the worst of what happens when you grow up when they saw him get basically torn in half. It’s harmless puppy love, just the kind of thing he never got to experience, and would never think to take away from Max.

One thing about Max, she still isn’t much better at realizing all the shit Billy does for her. It’s not the life she wanted. How can he be mad at her for that when he lashed out for a whole year about the same?

Maybe it’s not just intuition though that tells Billy he said something wrong.

Max avoids him for the rest of the day. It’s not until way after the sun goes down and they’re both waiting for the right time to take their pills and get the hell to sleep that he decides to bring it up.

She’s curled up in the corner of the couch, the opposite side of the rickety chair he sits in. She doesn’t look up at first when he speaks.

“Kinda distant there, shitbird.”

“Wow. I wonder why that could be.” Every word of Max’s drips with sarcasm.

Billy rolls his eyes at her. Maybe he should be a better example.

“What’d I even do? Thought you’d be grateful I helped your girlfriend.”

“I can be grateful and also be pissed that you’re mean to them. I’m multifaceted like that.” Okay, she definitely didn’t know that word before she started hanging out with her dorks. The influence isn’t all his.

He’ll fight back, but he’ll go easy about it. Let some of the thought process out into the open air, “Yeah, and I can make fun of my sister's friends and want to help someone getting bullied too.”

Finally, finally, that gets her to talk to him, “You’ve always been the bully. You never cared before. You only helped El because you thought it would make me like you more.”

Ironic that it’s all bullshit coming out of her mouth.

“Says who? I don’t give a shit what you think, this is between me and the universe.” Billy tries not to make this too deep, but it is. This is eight years of conversations they haven’t had yet forced into one scapegoat topic, “I’m making up for what I did, and you can hate me for all time, but my karma is evening out.”

“What’s that even mean?” She’s not sarcastic. She’s curious. Letting him in.

He’ll let her see the things her girlfriend saw last year. Forge the brother and sister bond they’d never quite mastered between them, but had come so easy with El.

Billy’s not a hero.

“Means I almost died. But I didn’t. And now I’m using my second chance for good.” He’s a human. He’s her brother. He’s crying, just a little, “I’m still not very good at this whole, being nice thing.”

Max shrugs, and she laughs. A wet sounding laugh. She’s crying too, “Yeah. Me neither.”

It sits, but there’s no tension. Just coexisting. Their thoughts fill the silence, but the few things they said provoke it. It’s not a quiet silence, and that’s alright. They’re alright. Everything’s alright now.

“Guess we got a long way to go, shitbird.”

“Not.. that long though. Right?”

Billy just shrugs, so Max takes that as her invitation to let go of the serious stuff.

She waggles her eyebrows, nosy little sister shit she hasn’t done since she was fresh out of elementary, “Soooo. El said you had somebody?”

“Don’t even start.” Billy complains, covering his face with his hands.

But he’s happy.

In California, Billy lives alone with Max and hides from the world.

In California, Billy learns how to smile again.