#Doctor! Billy and Nurse! Steve

[shieldofiron]

On Call

Harringrove Week March 27: How Many Candles on the Birthday Cake: 30 years old

Doctor AU, all Fluff baby, Also on AO3 Here.

Steve tried his best not to use the on call room. When he had started, and Dr. Hopper had pointed it out, Steve had proudly told himself that he wouldn’t need it. After all, he got his rest on his time off, he exercised, he took his vitamins. Sure, a long shift was hard, but he was tougher than all that. Surely when he had an on call shift, he could do laps around the hospital or read a book or study his cases.

Oh, how the mighty had fallen. After ten hours on the floor and the prospect of another eight with his phone clutched between his hands, waiting to be called back, he longed for the blandness of this small, windowless room. He wasn’t likely to sleep properly, but having his eyes closed briefly while his feet were allowed to rest sent a shiver of actual longing through him. Everything ached. He swore he could feel every strand of hair crying out in exhaustion.

As he let himself into the room, running a hand through his hair and massaging his scalp with a groan of pleasure.

It was a square, with two sets of bunk beds hugging the walls and a small desk. The only light came from the dimmed desk lamp, and he realized with a start that someone was already occupying the room. A very large someone, who was using their white coat as a blanket, had set their shoes tidily under the lower bunk. The person turned, probably hearing his ill-timed moan, and Steve made another involuntary sound as blue eyes met his.

“Dr. Hargrove,” Steve whispered quietly, ducking his chin and reaching for his phone in his pocket, just for something to do.

Dr. Hargrove blinked, “Harrington.”

They had never been on good terms. Somehow, a rocky first impression had led to a constant barrage of attention from Dr. Hargrove. He clearly thought Steve was the worst nurse on the floor, constantly double checking the patients they shared and finding little reasons to look over Steve’s work. And it was all just petty macho bullshit in Steve’s opinion. He had worked damn hard to make it here, he wasn’t going to let some asshole with one more degree than his try to take him down.

Steve could keep it professional. He just wished Dr. Hargrove, with his movie star good looks and snarky comments, could do the same. He still flushed with embarrassment remembering when Dr. Hargrove had personally brought Steve a slice of his own birthday cake only a few days earlier, saying Steve could use ‘something sweet.’ The piece had been from the middle, with a big red ‘30′ on it, almost as red as Steve’s cheeks had been.

He wished he would stop looking at Steve. This new look, when Dr. Hargrove was sleepy and rumpled, was even worse than when he was cross, or upset. It was... disarming.

They looked at each other, both seeming to expect that the other would speak first. But it seemed almost sacrilege in this quiet space. 

Steve nodded, trying to put a close on that strange, expectant feeling. Instead of continuing to look at Dr. Hargrove while he was obviously trying to rest, he went to the little desk to plug in his phone, cursing quietly when the worn cord refused to charge it, even after he tried wrapping it around several times. Shit.

He had meant to buy a new one. He fully intended to. But a full nurse's schedule didn’t always leave a lot of time for small errands. Besides this one worked, kind of.

Dr. Hargrove cleared his throat behind Steve. He turned as if a maniac in a mask were creeping up behind him.

Hargrove held out a little black box, shaking it at Steve until he stepped over and took it and turned it over in his hand. Hargrove cleared his throat again, raising one perfectly groomed eyebrow at him, like that was helpful.

Steve furrowed his brow at the featureless box, “You ok, Dr. Hargrove?”

“It’s a portable charger,” His throat sounded dry, and husky, “You can detach the cable here.” He reached out and pulled at a corner of the black box, tugging a charging cable free from its hidden spot. Their fingers brushed, just a little, and Steve could smell the antiseptic soap and cheap cigarettes that Dr. Hargrove snuck in the tiny smoking area on the ground floor.

“Fancy,” Steve flushed, “I couldn’t see in the dark. Uhm, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” He had never heard Dr Hargrove speak like this. He had heard him bark, shout, growl, and grumble. But whispering seemed to take his voice into another, secret register. Like a light touch along the skin, it could raise goosebumps.

Steve turned his back on him, his head swimming. It was probably just that he was tired. Your mind could turn fanciful and strange when you were tired.

He plugged his phone into the little box and it chimed, the display showing a photo of him and his nursing school friend Robin on graduation day, grinning into the sun. It also illuminated the cracks in his phone screen. Steve sighed, kicked off his worn sneakers at the foot of the bed,  and heaved himself onto the top bunk above Dr. Hargrove. Just in case, it felt better if Steve was in a place where he couldn’t see Steve, or judge him.

Steve tucked his backpack into the bottom corner of the bed and his phone in the front pocket, then reached inside for the blanket he had brought just for this purpose. The hospital AC was always working overtime, and even though Steve didn’t want to be weak and use the on call rooms, at least he wasn’t going to get frostbite if he did. Poor Dr. Hargrove hadn’t looked particularly warm either.

Steve bit his lip, hearing him turn over on the bunk below Steve’s. The only sounds in the room were the AC and his slow and steady breathing. If Steve got called in, he ought to offer him the blanket. It wasn’t a bad one, a travel blanket he’d picked up on a weekend trip to Indiana. Dr. Hargrove might not have wanted to use it because it was Steve’s, but if he threw it in the trash Steve wouldn’t lose any sleep. Besides, it was soft, worn in fleece, the perfect balance of thin and warm, and it would be better than Dr. Hargrove’s drafty white coat.

He shifted underneath the blanket and self-consciously lay down, all while trying in vain not to make any noise. Maybe he should have taken the other lower bunk. It seemed like every tiny motion caused an eruption of creaks and groans from the metal frame. Steve tried to cozy into the pillow in tiny infinitesimal movements, but it only worked a little. When he finally relaxed all his muscles, he stifled a groan. Perhaps he could sleep, with the light so dim and the hospital just barely at the edge of his mind.

He woke up with a start an unknown amount of time later. An alarm was blaring, the ever present sound of the pager app that the hospital used, the one sound that could raise Steve even from the dead. Suddenly alert, he groped at his feet for the phone in a haze.

Dr. Hargrove groaned, the whole bed shaking as he moved swiftly.

Steve flopped back to the mattress and swiped at his phone with bleary eyes, trying to see the alert, but the app was only showing hours old messages. It didn’t register that the alert wouldn’t belong to him, until a weight settled over Steve gently, and the door was yanked open. A smell unlike the hospital’s or his detergent settled around his. Something woodsy and crisp, with a faint trace of cigarette smoke. He was slightly warmer in his little cocoon. Oh.

Dr. Hargrove had given Steve his coat. There was something very tidy in that, an ellipses to close his thought of sharing his blanket. But the feeling that curled in his chest was not settled or tidy. Steve’s brain stalled a little on warm feelings and confusion, but he buried it, curling to his side under Dr. Hargrove’s coat.

[softsnzstuff]

Stranger Things Doctor's Office AU Masterlist

This post is tagged using the common tags for this AU. If you want more smaller fics or answered ask box prompts, checkthe tags :)

Doctor Office AU First Fic - Just introductions mostly

Steve on vacation but comes into the office 3 days in Bc he’s sick

Doctors Make the Worst Patients - Eddie strep tests himself, himbo energy

Drabble - Doctor!Eddie faints from sneezing too much

Take One Down, Pass It Around - Everyone gets sick (10k)

How Steddie Got Together

Sick!Robin high on DayQuil

Eddie and Steve fighting - sick!Steve

Sick!Steve falls asleep on Robin

Doctor Eddie diagnosing Steve discretely

Steve fakes sick to get Eddie to chill

Robin x Chrissy get together almost

Sick!Robin and the boys take care of her

Fever Pitch (10k)

[adverbally]

I’ll Be Seeing You

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “The sunset looks lovely, don’t you think?” | wc: 929 | rated: T | cw: traumatic brain injury, dementia, memory loss, degenerative illness | tags: grief for a person who’s still alive, caregiving, title from the song by Billie Holiday

———

When Eddie comes home, Steve and his nurse are sitting in the backyard. It’s where they are at this time every weekday, when Laura is there to help Steve. The yard may be small, but there is enough space for a table and chairs on the patio and Steve’s beautiful garden.

It had taken months for Steve to meticulously plan and set up— what to grow, when to plant and water, how to maintain everything— but the end result was worth it. Eddie still looks upon it with awe. He wishes it wasn’t left to his clumsy care now but he doesn’t dare neglect it, not when it still brings Steve so much joy.

Laura is telling Steve, “The sunset looks lovely, don’t you think?” as Eddie sits in the patio chair next to Steve.

“Eddie!” Steve beams at him once he notices his presence. “Check it out, the rosemary is doing really well.”

Oh. Steve isn’t usually so lucid, and a lump forms in Eddie’s throat.

He glances at Laura, who seesaws her hand side to side in a silent report of how Steve’s day had been. It’s often like that, a roller coaster of confusion and happiness and defiance that nobody can predict.

It won’t get better, the doctors had explained. Steve’s history of traumatic brain injuries had done lasting damage that couldn’t be fixed. He would continue to lose his keys and forget his appointments and get lost driving around their own neighborhood. That was fine, Eddie would be there to help Steve look and remind him to put the laundry in the dryer and drive him.

It won’t get better, it will just get worse. This is what Eddie still can’t wrap his head around, five years after they got the diagnosis. Steve will continue to deteriorate, losing more of himself every day. His memory, speech, coordination, even his ability to eat and piss by himself, will be gone.

Eddie will watch the love of his life forget who he is and fade away until he dies. He’ll be a widower by the time he’s forty, most likely.

His watery smile feels more like gritted teeth when he says, “That’s great, honey. The bees will love it,” but Steve doesn’t seem to notice as he talks about his day.

“Robin came over for lunch. She brought her lemon bars and a new puzzle for us to try. Then Wayne called this afternoon.”

Eddie leans an elbow on the table so he can subtly cover his mouth while resting his chin in his hand. It’s not Steve’s fault that he doesn’t remember that Wayne died last fall. The two of them were close in the end, it makes sense that those happy moments might drift to the surface occasionally. Every time, it’s a double gut punch of missing Wayne and seeing the extent of Steve’s memory loss.

He imagines it’s like being stabbed. Knowing it’s coming doesn’t make it hurt less.

Fighting the tears back down, Eddie says, “I’m glad you two had the chance to catch up. Did you talk about last night’s game?”

“Yeah, especially that bullshit call in the seventh,” Steve snorts.

Eddie feels bad about tuning out the little baseball tangent that follows, but he is trying to soak this in. Since they got the diagnosis, there have been an increasing number of days where Steve doesn’t recognize Eddie or remember his name, where Steve is agitated and insistent that he has somewhere else to be, where Steve is quiet and listless and a husk of himself.

Today is a good day, though. Steve is smiling and animated, his memory blips don’t frustrate him, and he holds Eddie’s hand under the patio table. The sunset looks lovely and so does Steve, beaming as Eddie leans in to kiss his cheek, catching Eddie’s shoulder with a shaky grip to hold him close for a real kiss.

Tomorrow won’t be so kind, Eddie is sure. He will listen to Steve gush about his husband and the date they have planned for that night. He’ll ask polite questions about himself in the third person, like he’s a stranger. He’ll lock himself in the soundproofed studio basement and cry himself hoarse. He’ll go to sleep in the guest room because it can be upsetting for Steve to wake up next to a man he doesn’t know. He’ll welcome Laura when she gets there and leave for work as fast as he can so he doesn’t have to face the utter hopelessness of the situation for a few hours.

He’ll do it all again the following day. He’ll keep doing it for the rest of Steve’s life.

Their marriage isn’t legally recognized, but they had stood in front of their friends and family and made those vows to each other. In sickness and in health. ‘Til death do us part. They hadn’t expected those words to become relevant so soon, but Eddie will be damned if he isn’t at Steve’s side right up until the very end.

So Eddie stays with Steve on the patio, the dying sun drying the tears from his cheeks, and listens to Steve’s beautiful voice while he can. He squeezes his hand, trying not to think about how he’ll be doing the same thing when Steve takes his last breath in the not-so-distant future. He says, “I love you,” while Steve still has the capacity to say it back.

It is a lovely sunset. Eddie tries to enjoy it while he can, knowing he’ll never see another one without thinking of Steve.

[morganbritton132]

Do you think Eddie and Steve have ever fallen victim to the weird trend of people calling the police to ‘save’ famous people? Like some fans of his tiktok became convinced Steve was holding him hostage after making 2+2=5 when they googled up Billy’s name

This is such an interesting question because I could see it going both ways.

There are always going to be people that look at Eddie and see wanted posters. There are people who will never be convinced that he didn’t commit those murders, and they’re only ever going to see a victim in Steve because of it.

Steve is clumsy. He has a head injury and issues with balance, and sometimes he gets confused. Sometimes he gets bruised. He’s cut his hand in the middle of a seizure and needed stitches. He’s broken his ankle and walked on it for an entire day.

Sometimes nurses and doctors see his injury and see his medical history, and then they see the scruffy guy calling himself his husband, and they ask him to step outside the room. They ask Steve questions and it always takes him a second to realize what they’re trying to get at because domestic abuse is not something that he can attach to Eddie in any capacity.

And Steve will get angry about it. How dare they think such a thing? How could they look at Eddie and see how much love he holds in his heart and think that he would ever hurt Steve?

 

I think that Eddie is always going to have some fans that see Steve as this bad guy that does not deserve to be with him. There is nothing that he will ever do that can change that. They are just angry that Eddie is with someone other than them.

I can definitely see them hearing about all the bad shit that went down in Hawkins and seeing Steve’s connection to some of it – The coverup story for Starcourt paints Robin and Steve as two dedicated retail employees that saved a bunch of children from a fire – and then take that extra step to twist it into something so much worse.

The kid that went missing in Hawkins in 1983 just so happened to be the little brother of the guy that stole Steve’s high school girlfriend? That’s interesting. That’s suspicious.

And his high school bully (that he apparently hit with a car!) just so happened to die in a fire at his place of work? Weird.

And despite the fact that the police and an angry mob couldn’t find Eddie, Steve Harrington – a video rental employee – happened to find him?

You pair the horror story that was Hawkins in the eighties up with Eddie’s scars and all the off-hand jokes people have made on live-streams about Steve’s sleepwalking, or with Steve’s reactions to being scared and you can make a convincing case for anything.

Eddie ends a live-stream early one night at Steve’s request and then an hour later, they’re getting a knock on the door by two police officers doing a welfare check.

Steve and Eddie are obviously confused, and Steve is really disheartened when one of the officers lets it slip that the person calling was concerned because of a live-stream.

It puts a damper on the date night he’d set up for them in the living room and he doesn’t really want to continue it after the cops leave. Eddie tries to find the bright side of the situation, “Babe, it’s nothing. It’s not like it’ll be in the papers.”

“They think I hurt you,” Steve says. “They – your fans think that I would – that I’d ever – and they’re not wrong, technically. I have hurt you before.”

“And I nearly cut your throat with a broken glass bottle,” Eddie replies, ignoring the way Steve scoffs at him. “Anything that you’ve ever done because you were confused or lost in your head, or sleepwalking doesn’t count. You weren’t all here and it’s not your fault if you aren’t aware of what you’re doing, right? And anyways, I’m typically bothering you.”

“You’re blaming yourself for me hurting you?”

“No, I’m – No. I’m not,” Eddie clarifies. “I am saying that I don’t always come into the situation knowing what’s going on and sometimes I make it worse. Sure, I’ve gotten a bit of a hit. You kick in your sleep. But you have never hurt me.”

“Is it El’s fault when the cabinets rattle when she has a nightmare?” Eddie continues because it’s clear that Steve does not agree with him. “Or that time she got so scared that all the lightbulbs shattered? You got cut when that happened, remember? You have a scar. Is that her fault?”

“That’s different. She can’t-“

“And neither can you,” Eddie says. “I’m telling you now, Stevie. You know what my life was like before I moved in with Wayne. I will never be in a situation like that again. So, if I was than I would not be here, but I am here because you have never done anything to hurt me, okay?”

[chrisbitchtree]

A Reward

For @harringrovelovefest day 4

Prompt: Chocolate lava cake

T - 1k

***

It had started not long after Billy woke up from his coma in late August. The days spent in his hospital bed were long, and the nights were even longer, only broken up by the rotating cast of nurses and doctors visiting his bedside to poke him and prod him, make sure he had enough medication, and write down their findings on their charts before scurrying away to wherever they hid out when they weren’t trying to study the effects of getting possessed by an interdimensional monster on a teenage boy’s body.

His only saving grace in the early days was his visitors. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, preferring to stare at anyone that dared enter his room with an angry scowl on his face, the hours that Max and El, Hop and Joyce, little Byers, and Harrington spent sitting with him, talking, watching the small TV mounted on the wall, and in Harrington’s case, eating the Jell-o off his food tray, meant more than Billy could ever put into words. Looking back, he’s sure that he would have lost his mind without their company.

One night, just as visiting hours were winding down, Harrington slipped in the door of Billy’s room. Billy was starting to think that Steve must have an in with the hospital staff, as this was a regular occurrence, and no one ever told him to leave before he was good and ready.

They were talking about the fancy dinner Steve’s parents had made him go to the night before, and he mentioned that they’d had something called chocolate lava cake for dessert. Now, one of Billy’s guiltiest pleasures was his love of chocolate. He would consume it in pretty much any form, but this was something he’d never heard of before, let alone had, and told Steve as much.

“Oh man, it’s so fucking delicious, so sweet and gooey, you have to try it, man,” Harrington practically moaned, and ok, yeah, if Billy didn’t want to try it before, he certainly did now, if only to hear Steve moan like that again, because his only pleasure guiltier than his love of chocolate was his secret fantasising about getting Steve into bed.

“As soon as I get out of here, we’re getting me one.” Billy said, his voice full of conviction.

“I could just like, bring you one, you know, right?”

Billy shook his head. “Nope. I want to wait. It’ll be something to work towards.” Forget about walking again, or driving a car, or graduating high school. Nope, he was going to work towards having a chocolate lava cake with Steve Harrington.

“Alright then, it’s a plan.” Steve nodded.

***

From then on, it was a thing. Every time physical therapy felt like too much, his legs weak and shaky as he struggled to walk the length of the room, or he’d have a particularly upsetting therapy session, forced to talk about his dad and the Mindflayer, and all the other upsetting things swirling around in his mind, Billy would just think of sharing that hot, gooey chocolate with Harrington.

The fantasy would change, sometimes they’d be in a fancy restaurant like Steve had described going to with his parents, sitting across from each other, their feet tangled under the table, hidden from view by a long tablecloth, and sometimes they were at a small dinner party with friends, and other times, it was just them, alone in bed, naked after a good, long fuck, feeding each other the dessert by the spoonful. The one thing that never changed was the sense of hope and purpose that it gave Billy.

As the months wore on, Billy and Steve grew closer and closer, until one night, when the tension got so thick you could cut it with a knife, Steve bravely sliced right through it, sliding a hand behind Billy’s head and kissing him softly and sweetly, whispering sweet words of affection, and telling Billy how long he’d wanted to do that.

Billy could barely wait until Steve was out of the room, tasked with getting them chocolate from the vending machine down the hall before he buried his face in a pillow and screamed with joy.

***

Eventually, he confessed the silly fantasy to Steve, and it became a thing, Steve reminding him of it when Billy was tired and angry at the world, feeling like he was never going to get out of the hospital and back to a normal life. He would stand next to Billy at physical therapy and lean over, whispering to him that he just needed to remember the chocolate lava cake, and he’d feel completely ready to tackle anything again.

Then finally, there came the day that Dr. Owens came to his room with good news. He had a discharge date, February 14th. Valentine’s Day. Billy couldn’t imagine better timing. He woke up that morning with visions of chocolate in his head, but the day was so hectic what with leaving the hospital after one more conversation with Owens and the physical therapist, both of them gifting him with large sheathes of paperwork, and then getting settled into the spare room at Joyce and Hops place, that he almost forgot all about his plan by the end of the day, as darkness started to settle around their home.

But then, just as he was getting ready for bed, there was a knock on his bedroom door. He figured it was Joyce, trying to hand him yet another blanket, but when he turned the knob, there was Steve, holding the promised chocolate lava cake, accompanied by an already melting scoop of vanilla ice cream and two spoons.

Grins spread over both of their faces as Steve took a seat beside Billy on the bed, holding out the dish to him and handing over a spoon. Billy took it, scooping up a big bite. Holy fucking shit that was good. It was everything Billy had dreamed of and more, not just the dessert, but sitting there with Steve by his side. He was so happy in that moment that he’d never given up.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, babe” Steve said, capturing Billy’s lips in a kiss. Oh yeah, definitely worth never giving up.

[fizzing-imagines]

Anesthesia | Billy Hargrove x Plus Size! Reader

Notes: I watched too many videos of people waking up from Anesthesia lol. I'm also thinking of making one of these with Steve and Gareth.

Warnings: None

Words: 555

"Oh shit, who are you?", Billy slurred out as you sat down next to his hospital bed. He was high on anesthesia after spine surgery and, as it shows, forgot who you are. His doctor said that it'll wear off and he'll be back to normal, but his currently honesty was just too funny.

"I'm (Y/N).", you said to him with a smile on your face. "Hey (Y/N), I'm Billy.", he replied with a flirtatious smirk. "You're really beautiful." You wanted to laugh, but also didn't want to upset your boyfriend. "Thank you, Billy.", you replied with a stiffled laugh following. "I've always liked big girls more, but you can't tell my friends." Now you couldn't help but giggle. "Can I take you out?" The nurse that was setting up his IV let out a giggle as well. It made you laugh even more. "Aww, don't laugh at me pretty girl." Billy would look offended if he had any control over his facial expressions. "Billy, I'm about to blow your mind.", you said before leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Now he gave you a shocked expression before looking at the nurse. "Did you see that? The pretty girl kissed me.", he said to her. She gave him an agreeing nod, and while he was still looking at her you kissed his cheek once again. Billy looked back at you with a child-like smile. "Do you wanna know something cool?", you asked him. He let out a low hum as a response while looking at you like a kid in a candy store. "I'm your girlfriend." His eyes went wide. "Really?" You nodded your head with a laugh. "How are you my girlfriend, I'm such a bitch." The nurse in the room laughed at his comment and so did you. "I don't know, Billy.", you said with laughter in your voice. "I just started loving you." Once again, he had child-like excitement on his face. "I'm the luckiest man in the world." He slurred, and especially the last word came out with a long O. After that, he stayed quiet for a while while you and the nurse exchanged a look of entertainment. "You're so pretty.", Billy slurred again after a while. You smiled at him while saying "Thank you." He rubbed his eyes, to "Need to take a better look at you.", then asked you to come a bit closer. You did scoot a bit closer to his bed, to which he grinned widely. "You know how much hotter big girls are.", he said once again. "I know, Billy.", you said with a small laugh in your voice. "You're pretty.", he added. This was the third time already. "Thank you, Billy." The nurse came over to his bed, checked his vitals and then said "You should take a nap, Billy." He gave her a disappointed look before saying "But I wanna look at my girlfriend for a bit longer." Your heart melted, although he won't remember any of this once the anesthesia wore off. If you had a camera, that would be fun. "You can look at me again when you wake up.", you said while pulling the blanket over him. "Oh shit, you're tucking me in.", he said while looking down at your hands fixing his blanket. "Good night, Billy.", you said while taking his hand. "Good night, girlfriend.", he said with a grin before closing his eyes.

He didn't remember a thing he said once he woke up.

[ooo---hazelgrimm---ooo]

Sun and Moon

Alright the beginning is completely Billy's redemption because he deserved redemption not death. And honestly Max hurting in S4 killed me. So, Max gets her brother back. Eventually BH x Reader.

Neil goes to far and someone very unlikely fights back, Billy realizes his sister and Stepmother actually do love him. Unfortunately sometimes love hurts and you have to hurt the people you love to save them.

Also this does kind of bounce around for a bit between the present, past, and Billy and Max's childhood.

Beeaaa-Beeeeep!

"I'm coming!" Max shouted running out of the door, Billy came out behind her carrying his bag over his shoulder.

"Code Gray Code Gray." A large group of kids and young adults sat in the hospital waiting area.

"That's probably our angry little asshole." Steve muttered. El turned on him sharply, glaring.

"My sister! Where the fuck is my sister!" He fought against the security as they secured him to the bed with padded restraints.

"Someone get me some Oxazepam." The nurses and doctors were in full PPE. A nurse injected a small dose of tranquilizer into his IV line as he fought.

"Mr. Hargrove! You need to remain still. You were involved in a major fire, there are wounds and burns covering fifteen percent of your body. Your sister is fine."

"No no. You don't understand it wasn't a fire." He shook his head violently, "There was this monster, my little sister, she's in danger."

"That is the trauma and morphine talking." A doctor whispered quietly to Neil, Susan, and Max. They had his bed turned so they couldn't see anything but the top of Billy's blonde curls through the glass. All they could hear from the room was Billy's shouts. "He might say some very strange things." Billy threw his head back violently onto the pillow as the doctor started walking away.

"He's not going to get rest and his condition is only going to worsen." One of the nurses muttered.

"Fuck! Why is nobody listening to me?! Max needs help!" He called out.

"Give me a gown." Max demanded.

"Sweetie no he's badly burned you don't want to see-" Susan started.

"She said he won't get better, if he's freaking out like this he won't get better. Give me a gown, give me gloves, mask, whatever I need to be able to go in there with him. I'll keep him calm and the doctors can fix him." Max assured them, "I won't be scared."

Billy still looked like Billy to her. What the doctors mistook for burns were the wounds from the mindslayer, they probably just didn't believe what was in front of them and chalked it up to the most logical thing. By the time they had finally let her into the room the medicine they gave Billy had kicked in so now Max sat on a rickety shitty chair waiting for him to wake up again as she held his hand. Eventually she too fell asleep.

A strange feeling woke Max, before she realized someone was messing with her hair. She sat up quickly, Billy's eyes looked bloodshot and tired.

"Hey." She whispered quietly. Billy's eyes turned down, "Please look at me."

" I can't. Your face-" Billy's hands clenched at his side as he forced his head up. Those were Billy's eyes, that's how Max knew he was there.

Neil had left. Max's mom has wandered off to the waiting room to find some sleep.

"Billy that was the Mindflayer." He was looking away in the distance.

"That thing, it showed me horrible horrible things. And then when it took over completely…" Billy shook his head, "I turned into my father."

"Billy, that thing was using your body, I know you'd never hit me if it was really you."

"Not just then. Before, before the mindflayer. How I yelled at you and jerked you around, I turned into him." He swallowed, "I was just-"

"You were in pain. El, she saw into your mind she told me everything-" Billy paled.

"How much is everything?" Max swallowed.

"Your dad yelling at you for not being good at baseball, your parents fighting, your mom leaving. You beating up some kid up and calling him a pussy, meeting me."

"I swear to God Max, I did some shitty things because I'm a fucking dick. But most of it I was protecting you, I was trying to prepare you, give you a thicker skin because I wasn't going to be around forever. And I'll be damned if I have to bury another sibling." It was out before he could stop it.

"Another?" Billy shook his head. His voice echoed in her mind, much younger back in California.

'Stay away from the stairs you little punk. That's why there's a baby gate up, to keep babies like you away.' The house had a long wooden staircase that led into the backyard that they never used.

That tattered broken baby gate that was cracked and leaned up against the top of the stairs. The downstairs neighbors that would always seem uneasy when Neil would be alone with her and Billy. When she was little she thought Billy was just jealous that he didn't want his dad spending any alone time with her. Billy just didn't want Max to replace him, as a punching bag.

And why Billy seemed to relax when she went straight from the fight to his mother leaving. Something happened in between, something way worse than anything else. Max understood, but why didn't he just tell her, they could have faced this together.

"It's ok Billy. We don't have to talk about it." Max told him between tears she didn't know she was crying.

"What the fuck is going on? With Hawkins, with your little friend with superpowers?"

"We will tell you everything, but first you have to get out of the ICU."

"I don't want to get better." Billy said quietly.

"Don't talk like that. We're together now you got that? You're stuck with me and I'm stuck with you but I'm not going to let anything hurt you again. I'm going to protect you, like you've been protecting me. Billy I knew immediately that you weren't you when I saw you after the mind flayer got you. Yeah I was in denial at first, but do you want to know how I knew?"

"Because it called you my sister." Billy croaked.

"No. I have always been your sister. I could see it in your eyes. They weren't my brother's eyes, not entirely." Billy wrapped his arms around her as best as he could.

"You tell anyone I went soft on you-"

"You won't do anything, you love me." Max curled into him some.

They crowded into Billy's small room on one of the main floors.

"Hawkins. Bumfuck Hawkins Indiana is a hotspot for interdemntional fucking monsters and people with superpowers from a lab. And a bunch of kids have been fighting them off." Billy shook his head in disbelief. "So what do we do now?"

"I'm sorry 'we'?" Harrington asked.

"Nothing. We do nothing, the mind flayer is dead. We go back to normal and hope it stays that way." Max answered.

"Shit." Billy muttered.

Billy was still a dick most of the time, but not the same kind of dick he was before. Now that Max saw him a little clearer it became evident that he was trying before.

He had taught Max to drive. To ride a skateboard. Those were all things he had done in California. Neil was an asshole and her mom was always busy.

And though he had done those things in a roundabout dickish way he had done them without being asked without being told.

And those days that sent Max into panic, when Neil would come flying at Billy with fist and voices raised. Maybe Billy's slow steps back weren't cowarding, maybe they were leading Neil away. Leading him away from Max and her mom.

Now, Billy was very obviously intentionally doing things for her. Bonding with her.

A loud whistle would ring through Cherry Lane and Max would come running. At first Billy would have some excuse. 'Your running in the store and grabbing food.' 'I need you to get me a pack of Reds.' 'The new girl at the arcade is hot.' Then it became clear. He just wanted his little sister by his side.

Trees, houses, everything whizzed by. Max grabbed a hold of Billy's arm and held him tightly.

"I'm scared." She whispered to him, burrowing her head into his arm.

"I'm scared." The ocean was roaring in his ears, he was sitting next to his mom staring at the crashing waves, "It looks hard."

"You can do hard things." She promised him, "Now, up and at 'em. You are so strong and I believe in you." Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear yelling.

"Your alright sweetie just sit back please and buckle up." Susan jittered nervously. Max shook her head holding on tighter to Billy's arm. He turned his arm over in her grip and laid a hand on her head, pressing her into his upper arm more in a strange hug.

"It's going to be okay."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Was muffled by his shoulder.

"We've still got Billy baby, he's not going anywhere." Susan promised Max.

"This one's got a pulse!" Max's heart stopped. Which one? A fire burned behind them, Starcourt Mall seconds from being reduced to ash, the pavement smelled like motor oil and mucky rain. The irony was suffocating, the last time she remembered this particular smell her and Billy were much younger in California. Racing to find Neil's truck in the parking lot of the carnival before Billy paid the price for Max insisting to play that stupid duck game over and over.

Billy sat on the ride home nursing a bruised wrist from how tightly Neil had yanked him into the truck. Max sat playing with her prize and Billy snatched it from her and tossed her new stuffed animal out the window.

He took his bike out the next morning and found it in a pile of mud, though he would never admit that he was the one who went and grabbed it off the side of the road.

"Mary mother of God." They were yanking on his bloody arm, pulling blonde curls out of the black bag.

"Someone grab me something with suction, anything, I need to clear his airway now!"

"Turn him over, turn him over!" Then that horrible retching that sounded like Billy was throwing his guts up but meant one thing, Billy was alive.

"He's breathing!!!"

Max sprinted across the parking lot as they pulled Billy from the body bag onto a stretcher.

"Pulse is dimming." The paramedic called out.

"Billy no!" Max had gasped, wrapping her arms around his, "Please don't go again." Max whimpered, "I need you."

"Pulse is stronger. Kid, keep talking." Max jumped in the ambulance with them and El followed.

"She's his sister too." Max lied.

It all started with dinner. Billy had heard raised voices, he turned off his radio.

"We'll pick it up then!" One of the cabinets slammed. Billy came out of his room, and headed into the kitchen. "You got a problem, son?" Neil asked when he saw him.

"No sir." Billy started grabbing silverware and cups for the table. Max was kneeled down cleaning up a plate. Billy sat everything on the counter and kneeled down to help her.

"Oh no." Neil scoffed, "Get your ass up. We're teaching the little princess responsibility."

Everything after that was a bit of a blur. Max said something Neil considered smart. Neil grabbed her. Billy shoved him off without thinking and Neil pinned him to the wall with an arm to his throat.

Billy couldn't breathe, this was finally it. His old man finally snapped to the point where he was going to kill him.

Everything was fuzzy around the edges, Billy tried to find somewhere to look. He didn't want the last thing on earth that he saw to be Neil's anger or the look of terrified horror on Max's face. There was a weird noise and Billy fell to the floor gasping. Max was beside him holding him and he slung an arm over her shoulder.

He had to get his feet under him, had to get up, had to get Max behind him, block her from Neil so he couldn't hurt her next.

"Oh my God is he dead?!" Max was asking. Billy's eyes finally focused on what was going on around him.

Susan was holding the frying pan, Neil was on the ground knocked out.

"Get your things, quickly." Susan was telling Max. And then his little sister and stepmother were gone from the kitchen. Billy forced himself to his feet leaning heavily on the counter. It could have been an hour or five minutes Billy wasn't sure. Susan came rushing back in, pulling a coffee can down from its hiding place in the cabinet. She took a wad of cash from it, stuffing it into her bag.

"Billy, sweetie." She was touching his arm and he pulled away from her a bit harshly. "It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you." She mistook his anger, "Max is grabbing you some clothes and your stuff for your hair. I already put your moms seashells in the car. Is there anything else important to you that we can't replace?" Billy looked confused. "Oh. Oh! I'm so sorry! He's your father, I shouldn't have assumed you would want to leave with Max and I. It's just- well Billy I know I'm not your mother but I care about you and I just can't stand him putting his hands on you any longer. We just almost lost you and I-I-" Susan got teary eyed as she stumbled over her words.

"You're taking me with you?"

"Of course." Susan choked, "Your my son- stepson- but-" Billy hugged her tightly.

"Plus I have a car." Susan didn't. After Billy's mom's escape Neil ensured that Susan would never be able to get her own car.

Susan was already in the car, Billy was behind Max.

"What are you doing Shitbird?" He asked as she stalled at the door. She was breathing heavily and suddenly she turned rushing past him. Billy followed after her as she rushed back into the kitchen. "Woah woah woah!" He yelled as she yanked a large butcher knife out of the knife block. She gave him a disbelieving look as she held the damn thing next to her like Micheal Myers. She cut the phone cord, shoving the phone down into the garbage disposal for good measure.

"I'm not going to kill him!"

Billy internally sighed in relief, "You did try and take a bat to my balls, after your little boyfriend kicked them." He followed after her as she went to the living room, cutting the cord to that phone as well. Max snatched Neil's keys off the hook, dropping the knife. The horn on the Camaro blew.

"I'm coming!" Max shouted running out of the door, Billy came out behind her carrying his bag over his shoulder. Billy threw some more stuff in the trunk and opened the driver door for Max. She put Neil's keys in his hand.

"Put all that stupid baseball he made you play to use." Max told him before ducking into the backseat. Billy breathed deeply, tossing the keys up into the air once before chunking them as hard as he could to the treeline. Billy always had been a great pitcher.

Billy pulled into the next gas station. Max was slumped on his arm funny and it couldn't be comfortable. Susan stirred immediately when the car stopped.

"You're okay." Billy promised. He turned in his seat to lay Max down in the back.

"How far have we gone?"

"Three hours, we just crossed into Michigan." He told her quietly. Susan rubbed Billy's forearm, for the first time she actually looked very sad.

"I need to make a call." She swallowed looking teary, "Billy I need you to take care of Max for me." Billy's hands tightened on the wheel.

"You can't abandon her."

"I'm not! But- he's going to come looking for me." She took a deep breath, "You know that and I know that. It doesn't matter if it's tonight or next week he's going to come looking for me. I can not put my kids in danger." She was right, he knew that deep down.

"Fine. Whatever helps you sleep at night. I've got Max, I'll take care of her."

"I knew you would."

Billy had smoked through his pack and bought another before the old Wagoneer and Mercedes pulled in. Billy watched as the Mercedes did a lap through the parking lot before idealing in the pullout. An older dark haired woman hopped out of the Wagoneer, pulling Susan into her arms.

"It's so good to see you again, San Diego feels like yesterday."

"Joanna." Susan sighed, hugging her back tightly. Billy sighed, reaching back to shake Max awake.

"Hmm?"

"You need to go talk to your mom."

"Why what's happening?!" She jumped into the front seat, looking out to where Susan was hugging Joanna.

"Max, listen. Whatever she tells you, act like it's fine, tell her you love her. Once you're back in the car and we are away you can scream, cry, kick. Whatever you need, but for now go tell Susan that everything is going to be ok." Max nodded solemnly and got out of the car. He watched, unable to do anything while Susan held Max tightly. He watched as his sister shrunk into herself and just nodded, she hugged her mom again tightly and the three women walked back to the Camaro. Susan put Max into the passenger side still saying a very tearful goodbye while Max told her that it was okay and everything was going to be ok. Joanna came to Billy's side of the car.

"Just follow my girl, y'all will be staying with her for a bit." She pointed to the Mercedes. Billy nodded and after Joanna pulled Susan away, he pulled in behind the black car.

"You ok?" Billy asked Max quietly as they pulled into the street. Max nodded.

"I'm fine." She unbuckled her seat belt. "Totally fine." Climbed into the back seat lying down. "Everything is great actually." Pulled one of the pillows over her face, "Amazing!" (Muffled) and then, she screamed and screamed holding the pillow tightly to her face. A while after the screaming stopped, Billy pulled the pillow away so she would smother herself. "I hate Neil."

"Me too." Billy agreed, "Who was that lady?"

"Joanna?"

"Yeah."

"She used to babysit me when I was younger, before you."

"Alright."

"Her and YN." They pulled in at a small yellow two story house.

"Whose YN?" Billy asked, just as the driver door to the Mercedes swung open.

"Her." Max nodded toward you as you stepped out of the car.

"Holy shit." Billy scoffed.

[theangelblood]

Supernatural, The Winchesters and Dead Boy Detectives cast and crew crossovers (pt.1)

Andi Armaganian - directed 1 episode of TW and 2 episodes of DBD

Richard Speight Jr. - Loki, Gabriel, The Trixter in SPN and Loki in TW, directed 11 episodes of SPN and 1 episode of TW

Amanda Tapping - Naomi in SPN, directed 1 episode of DBD

Glen Winter - directed 1 episode of DBD and 1 episode of TW, executive producer on TW

Steve Yockey - co executive producer, producer, co producer, executive story editor and writer on SPN, executive producer, writer, creator of DBD

Jeremy Carver - executive producer, co producer of SPN, executive producer of DBD

Ruth Connell - Rowena MacLeod in SPN and TW, Night Nurse in DBD

Burnley Duffield - Brad in DBD, Billy Whitfield and Ryan McAnn in SPN

Shafin Karim - Local Doctor in DBD, Jamie Hamed in SPN

Kailey Spear - Jen, Beth, Chastity Group Member, Undead Woman the First in DBD

Sharon Taylor - Ardat, Crossroads Demon in SPN, Officer Parris in DBD

Christine Chatelain - Jenny, Dr. Ellen Piccolo in SPN, Stacey Devlin in DBD

Gerry Rousseau - Bill Gibson, Billy Beard in SPN, Old Settler Ghost in DBD

Amanda Gray - Dead Witch, Kansas Deputy in SPN, Shushing Mom in DBD

Brad Loree - Officer in SPN, Salesperson in DBD

James Dreichel - Bobby 2 in SPN, assistant hairstylist on DBD

Jay Julier - 3rd assistant director, additional 2nd director - SPN, 2nd assistant director - DBD

Christopher Donaldson - storyboard artist on TW and DBD

Nadine Schaefer - production assistant: set - SPN, graphic designer - DBD

Greg Crawford - adr mixer - TW and DBD

Seth Brower - encore VFX - TW, compositor encore VFX - DBD

Diego Galtieri - digital composer - TW and DBD

Swear I'm gonna finish this list one day😅

[paperbackribs]

The Gift (3b of 15) (Witch Steve AU)

previous: Chapter 3 Boys Are Witches Too (Part A) next: Chapter 4 Break the Illusion Ao3 Link - Chapters will be updated ahead of Tumblr Content: steddie fic, 2K words

Last chapter, Steve had a haunting vision of his Nana before comforting Dustin about Eddie's near death. This chapter, family weighs in on Steve's decision to save Eddie (Part A) and it's time to explain himself to his friends (Part B).

Chapter 3 Boys Are Witches Too (Part B)

…Over the phone, Steve gives his mother a brief outline of the past week, leaving out the more violent events.

Her gifts have always leaned more towards the earthy than the ethereal, like Steve’s and his Nana’s. So, when he tells her that he Knows this is done, a deep sigh of relief comes down the line. She hadn’t been able to convince him to leave Hawkins in ‘83 and now she won’t need to keep trying.

He hopes, a week later, standing in his kitchen this time, that his friends likewise accept his story.

Everyone has rested and is mostly healed and now the whole group are in Steve’s living room waiting to interrogate him.

Not that this is what they’re calling it, Steve thinks wryly, as he gathers drinks and chips to take back. He’s careful as he walks through the door so as not to overcompensate for the absence on his left.

This is just a ‘gathering’ for everyone to catch up on the latest Upside Down escapades.

Except they had already heard about Hopper’s insane tale of Russian capture and escape. Steve sort of had the image of Mrs Byers in an Emma Peel-like leather catsuit, which, frankly, was sexier than he wanted to think about.

He had shared the thought with Robin over the phone last night and was embarrassed at how quickly she’d moaned at the image.

“Steve,” she had warned. “Joyce is a stone-cold fox, and you need to respect that.”

It still leaves him with a smile on his face as he enters the living room, only for the entire group to swivel and stare at him, clearly having been just talking about him. Steve almost unconsciously steps back, alarmed at being the focus of their collective attention.

They’d caught up on the California crew too, including the chilled dude with the best hair Steve had ever seen in Hawkins. And he begrudgingly counted himself in that comparison.

El had come back with a stoic confidence that he supposes comes from having confronted and won against the most shit potluck of a family daring to call themselves brother and father. Still, she had stuck close to Hop ever since they’d reunited.

He hadn’t had a chance to talk to her, but Erica had been a little too quiet. It was easy to get lost amongst the rambunctiousness of the boys, but he’s watched her and wondered if there was more to it than that.

He still regrets not approaching Max after Billy’s death last year. Maybe if Steve had been present, she wouldn’t have gotten to the point where Vecna could scuttle his way through the cracks of grief and confusion losing her stepbrother had forced open.

By force of Hop’s return and Doctor Owen’s machinations, Eddie is in the midst of being freed from all charges. But no mobs have shown up at his doorstep in Forest Hills yet. So far, so good.

Everyone had eventually shared their stories.

Everyone but Steve.

So here he is, he thinks facing them with an uncertain smile, ready to share his part in Eddie’s return from the dead.

Eddie had also been quiet; at least when Steve was in the room. Quiet, but following him with that intent gaze again.

An extension of Steve’s powers has always been the knowledge of when he was the at centre of someone’s attention. It had been a heady feeling when fuelled by popularity at school. It had also been a considerable deflator of his ego in the later years while he had sat alone in the cafeteria, nursing a bruised face and body more than once. Now, he thinks he could feel Eddie’s gaze even without any ethereal awareness.

Steve looks over; his eyes, one warm hazel and the other a vibrant white lock onto Eddie’s brown gaze from across the room. That hum of connection strikes like gentle lightning between them; Steve faintly hears the beginning of a song.

Gone are the two deep pools of warm melted chocolate that once graced Eddie’s face, one now replaced by a lighter version that mirrors Steve’s remaining eye. Where Steve has given loss, Eddie has received an unexpected gift.

“Are you going to tell us now,” Eddie’s voice carries across the room and Steve nods in resignation.

However, he refuses to stand in front of the group as if he’s giving a class presentation like some nervous sophomore. He props himself against the chair arm of Robin’s seat, legs crossed at the ankles and arms folded. She leans against his right side in support.

Steve pauses to gather his thoughts, trying to figure out where to start with such a complex explanation of history, family, and hidden practices.

And it’s not that he’s ashamed, but nor is it in his nature to share and this has always been held tightly to centre of his being, unspoken from all others except family and Robin.

As if reading his mind, Robin squeezes his knee before leaning forward, “Dingus here is a Witch. Like Capital W, can cast a spell on you, see the future, and save a life.” She waves her hands next to him like Vanna White revealing the letters on Wheel of Fortune. He decides not to correct her use of the term spell.

The room explodes.

“You can see the future?” Says Lucas.

“Witches are girls,” calls out Mike. Will elbows him in the ribs, “I bet boys can be too. He’s like a wizard.”

“Are there others like you,” Dustin leans forward, fingers folded under his chin like a miniature detective only missing a magnifying glass and pipe.

“Where’s your broom,” Max heckles, though her eyes are a little too wide to believe the sass in her tone.

“What about your family, Steve,” he hears but doesn’t see Mrs Byers ask gently, who is to his far left.

Nancy holds out her hands, trying to rein in the chaos. “Hey, let him speak. He said he’s going to tell us, so let him.” Steve appreciates it, even though she looks like she’s about to whip out a pad to take notes.

Steve points a finger at them one at a time. “Witches are girls and boys, Mike. Thanks, Will, but don’t call me a wizard. I’m a Witch, there’s no gender. It’s like saying I’m American. I just am. Dustin, yes, there are. Not a lot, but enough. My mom and her side of the family are Witches, it’s how I knew what to do.”

He simply glares at Max briefly, refusing to dignify her with an answer. She pokes her tongue out in response.

“And what is it that you did,” asks Hop, still so strange with his drawn face absent its moustache, the harsh lines on his face speaking of the hardship he had suffered as a prisoner in Russia.

“Because I saw you in that room, Steve. Eddie may have been the one in the bed, but you looked like you were going to keel over at any point.”

Dustin whips his head back to Steve like he hadn’t even considered he could have been anything but okay.

Steve appreciates the sentiment when, even now, his body aches from being dragged over the Upside Down and torn into by those bats. Despite the healing pouch his mother had overnighted to him, he’ll still have a lot of scarring, including the red ring around his neck from a demo-bat’s whip-like tail.

Flashing to the feeling of blood-slicked wounds closing under his hand, Steve thinks he’ll probably be far more marked than the guy who actually died.

But he is recovering. He’s okay. And he says as much to the waiting group. “I’m fine. It was… powerful, what I did. But I’m alive and Eddie’s alive,” Steve points to the other boy like that will win his argument. “So, it all worked out fine.”

Eddie’s lips tighten in response, but he remains silent.

“Yeah, but Steve, what did you have to give up? I’ve been holding back so you only had to do this once, but come on, look at your eyes.”

Steve looks back down at Robin’s upturned and suspicious face in betrayal. He knew she had been too blasé. Too accepting. Too ready to joke about Mrs Byers as an international spy of mystery.

Robin’s brows are drawn, and he can see that she is deadly serious. She’s not going to let him get away with a muttered ‘It’s okay.’

Steve takes a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling. “It was powerful. And… It’s called The Sacrifice for a reason. But it was worth it!” He looks over at Eddie, whose face is stone for all that Steve can work out what he may be thinking.

“All I needed to do was give away one little thing and you would live. I could See that. You were going to die otherwise and… this just needed to happen. Okay?”

Eddie’s lips relax somewhat, “Okay. Don’t mistake me, I’m grateful, Steve. Thank you. I like living, you know. But I get the sense that this was a Gandalf moment. You threw yourself over into the abyss with the Balrog.”

Steve shakes his head in confusion, “Come on, man. I won’t use sports metaphors on you, and you don’t use fantasy stuff on me. Yeah, I had to give something up, but it was small in the scheme of things. I wasn’t killing myself with a Bolrag.”

He looks out at everyone, noticing varying degrees of conviction reflected in their expressions.

He sighs, “It’s just an eye. I have two, I’m fine. I just run into the walls a little now.” He says it with a light grin, but he gets no laughter back. Which, rude. He had bumped into doorframes somewhat until he began to adjust, so they should acknowledge the joke.

“Too soon?”

“Steve!” Dustin’s eyes are wet again and Steve’s heart sinks. He keeps failing this kid. “Did you nearly die?” He demands.

“Uh,” Steve panics. And, in panicking, forgets that he could just deny it. “A little?”

He flinches at the roar of the room. The kids start shouting questions and accusations again while Robin pushes him in anger so hard that he slides off the chair arm and onto the floor with a thump. Steve winces as the impact painfully spreads through his backside.

Everyone stops, mute. Robin’s shocked face looks down at him from above before she snorts in laughter. He looks up at her face as her eyes and nose crinkle and starts laughing too.

The rooms presumably look on in surprise as the two of them giggle and laugh like loons.

Robin slides out of the chair to heavily land on him, hugging him fiercely to her. “I knew it. I knew you were doing something dangerous, you absolute idiot.”

“I love you too, Robin,” he says dryly, knowing that she will hear the simple truth of it despite his tone.

“Shut it,” she hiccups wetly into his neck with a weak giggle.

The two of them go tumbling as the kids suddenly pile onto the top of them too. For a moment, under the heat and weight of the love of the party, Steve sees a flickering image of them all as if he were watching through his spirit eye, outside of his body. It lasts for only a moment before Mike’s pointy knee connects hard with his inner thigh.

“Mike! Get off!” Steve pushes and the children scatter like petals around him. He rubs at his leg, trying to lessen the sharp feeling of assault. Stops himself from rubbing at his sides too, which feels stretched and uncomfortable over the healing skin and further aggravated by the weight of the squirming kids.

Mike grins unrepentantly, “Sorry.”

Hop starts to update them on the latest rounds of government NDAs to expect and his negotiations with the Sheriff’s office. And Steve knows that they have all accepted it. Steve is a Witch. He’s down one eye. But he’s one of them and that’s that.

Eddie, he notices, picks up a bit more energy. He joins in with a few sharp criticisms of his own for the treatment he’s experienced from Hawkins PD. But Steve doesn’t get to speak to him again until everyone has left. While people trailed out saying their goodbyes, Eddie kept himself busy with taking out the empty Coke cans and chip bags to the trash.

Robin lingers by the front doorway, head cocked to the kitchen in question. He answers with a shrug and nod, and she’s accepted he is fine for whatever is coming, on the condition, she notes by waggling her eyebrows, that he fills her in later.

He shoos her away in agreement and turns back into the house to find Eddie.

If you liked anything, please consider leaving a comment over on Ao3 :-) It would make my day!

Taglist

My taglist is always open so let me know if you want to be added. Likewise, if you want to be removed let me know too. :) If I've missed you, definitely let me know because it's an accident!

@a-gae-af-racoon

@a-lovely-craziness

@aly-reads-alot

@bookworm0690

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@ellietheasexylibrarian

@everyrandomthing

@finntheehumaneater

@geekymagicalpotato

@goodolefashionedloverboi

@hallucinatedjosten

@ilikeititspretty

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@rajumat

@scoops-stevie-archive

@spectrum-spectre

@tartarusknight

@whackyrach

Edit: @swimmingbirdrunningrock

[hargrove-mayfields]

Happy Disability Pride month! Here’s a disabled Harringrove fic I’ve been slowly working on for quite a while now!

Also posted on ao3 and broken into chapters since it’s a bit longer.

warnings: canonical injury, graphic injury description, hospital setting, detailed child abuse, distress, medical anxiety.

-•-•-•-•-•-

At about one in the morning on the fourth of July, Hawkins Memorial Hospital is overrun with a group of banged up teenagers. A girl with an infected stab wound in her leg, a boy with bruises all over his face and drugs in his system, two kids with bruises and mild head injuries, the rest all with ringing ears and miscellaneous cuts and scrapes, but by far the worst was a boy who had been impaled straight through the center of his chest.

There was an explosion at the mall, and falling debris had done a real number on these kids, or at least that’s what they were told to say when they were given government clearance and all rushed into the emergency room.

They made for quite a sight, thirteen people rushing in all at once, but only two of them were in bad enough shape to be taken back immediately. El and Billy, the latter of which had already had to be resuscitated in the ambulance for the extent of the injury to his chest. They both went straight into surgery.

Everyone else had to sit and wait their turns, though some of them with the least severe damage opted out of their check ups, so the next to be admitted back were Steve and Robin.

The truth was a lot uglier than just an explosion, and, to say the very least, they were a little worse for wear.

Robin hadn’t actually been touched by the men who were torturing them, since the plan was to kill Steve first and then get to her. That, thank whatever being might possibly live in the clouds, had not happened. It was just that her head was still fuzzy and her knees unsteady from whatever they’d injected her with.

The thing is, they had probably been pretty damn close to killing Steve though. It hadn’t felt like it at first, the adrenaline from a million other things to worry about taking over the pain, but the longer he sat with his injuries, the more it felt like his brain was trying to come out through his nose, and the room had started spinning around him again, this time from the concussion, and he was pretty sure he was bleeding internally from somewhere.

A nurse whose name Steve forgot as soon as he learned it led them into a big room with two beds and an armchair in the corner. She had the both of them describe their symptoms, frowning at every detail Steve remembered about his condition until eventually she called in the doctor to do a better once over.

They were testing Robins blood or something while they did all kinds of poking and prodding at Steve. They made him do some consciousness checks, asking him who the president was and that sort of thing, and making him follow the end of a pen with his eyes.

Apparently he had something called hyphema in his eye, but to him it just felt like it was going to pop out. A lady smiled down at him and poked his eye with a fancy stick, another made him tilt his head back and put drops in it, then brought him a little patch, some sort of bandage to put over it.

Medicine was put in all the little cuts on his face and the doctor started scribbling something onto his clipboard. He sighed and said something, but to Steve’s ears, he just sounded like a teacher from the Peanuts holiday specials, not a single coherent syllable coming out of the man’s mouth.

To attempt to hear what that doctor was saying, Steve furrowed his eyebrows and tried his very best to focus on just his words, but it still just sounded like a bunch of jumbled up trumpet noises. Eventually he gave up and asked, “What?”

More incoherent mumbling.

For a brief moment, Steve felt his heart start to race with panic, the thought that he could be dying settling into his mind with dread, and that fear and confusion must’ve translated directly onto his face.

The doctor put a hand on his chin and tilted his head to the side again and turned on some little flashlight, then turned Steve’s back to face him, a grim look on his face. “We need to do a hearing test.”

One of the nurses from before left and came back with a big cart and wheeled it up beside him. He asked what it was, to his ears sounding clear and concise, but to Robin and the nurses it sounded more mushed together, like- “Whazat?”

She explained it to him, but he only caught about every other word when he looked up at her face. It was something to do with him having to wear these big chunky headphones and the little tray of buttons they put in front of him.

He gathered that he was supposed to press one when a sound came through the headphones, but he just kind of sat there for a few minutes. Everyone else in the room all had the same look on their face, an odd mixture of sympathy and seriousness, and Steve realized the silence was probably supposed to be full of sounds, he just couldn’t hear them.

It made his heart sink down to his stomach, and for a second he thought about just pressing the buttons whenever he wanted and pretending to hear something, but he knew they would see through it.

The good news was that eventually he could hear some of the beeps, but only when they were obviously too loud to be normal and in his right ear. Besides, the damage of the realization had already been done. Steve was basically deaf.

It made sense- a lot of sense really. Their torturers had done all kinds of shit to him that he could hardly even remember while they were trying to get him to talk, and he’d initially blamed the ringing in his ears on the drugs. After that, a hell of a lot of fireworks had gone off in the echoing space of the mall's lobby, so he thought his ears were just messed up from that.

He supposed it should’ve been a giveaway that everyone else who had also been exposed to the fireworks wasn’t having the same problem, but in their haste to get to the hospital, he hadn’t really been thinking about comparing their ailments.

The nurse signaled for him to take the headphones off and wheeled her little cart away, and the doctor put his hand on his shoulder. “We’re going to do another test to see how bad the damage is, okay?”

Without really knowing what he was agreeing to, Steve nodded, and for the first time looked over at Robin in the bed parallel to his. She gave him a little thumbs up, but her smile looked forced and just sad. Steve felt a tug of nervousness in his chest.

This time they put something inside of Steve’s ear, which hurt like hell when it apparently wasn’t supposed to, that would somehow, he missed the explanation part, check for damage to his eardrum. Not even five minutes after they put it in his ear they turned it off.

The doctor, all stern like, told him, “You need a CT scan. Immediately.”

Apparently his left eardrum had completely ruptured and the right was not far behind it. That meant to the doctors that he had some terrible head injury that could kill him if they didn’t catch it.

Steve was glad he was in the hospital, because it felt like he was having a heart attack now.

Growing up, his mother was something of a hypochondriac, every headache was a brain tumor and every flu season he had meningitis, an aching joint meant he had early onset arthritis, and mood swings, those obviously meant he was, in her words, “mentally unwell.”

Because of that, he’d always been sort of paranoid too, careful when he didn’t need to be and scared of nothing. The one time he worried for someone other than himself and suddenly he’s deaf and has traumatic brain injuries. Nice.

By the time he was done with all the tests they wanted to do on him he was shaking like a leaf. They said it was unlikely that there would turn out to be anything wrong, but he would have to wait an entire day to find out. Surviving all that he had just to die hours later was something that scared him immensely, and, even as they were being cleared for release, he was moments away from a panic attack.

Robin could read him like a book, and got him out of there as soon as possible once they signed him out. Everyone else was still lingering in the waiting room, and Steve wanted desperately to stay with them, but, even if he didn’t realize it just yet, Robin knew he needed to not be around people right now.

They said a quick goodbye to everyone else, and Robin had him in his bimmer and halfway back home before he knew what had happened. She’s not licensed, but since Steve’s place is only a few minutes away, and he really didn’t think he could handle being by himself right now, she just drove him.

Robin made herself right at home, trudging on up into his parents room and raiding his mother’s drawers for something to change into after spending the last two or so days in the same stiff, stained up work uniform.

Words couldn’t describe how relieved that made Steve feel, her just barging on in like she owned the place when he was so used to this house being empty. He was glad that, after everything they’d been through, the two of them came out of it as friends, something he was lacking before having met and been tortured alongside her.

Because really, he had Dustin, but it’s different when he’s younger. The only kids he knew who were his own age either hated his guts or only talked to him out of pity, so Robin was truly a breath of fresh air.

Still, the weight of learning that he had gotten truly and utterly fucked up was too much emotionally for him to bear. The whole time he was in the shower, scrubbing away the blood and the dirt caked into his nails and his hair and his ears apparently, he let tears drip off the end of his nose and ugly sobs out of his throat.

Robin was in another bathroom somewhere in that mansion of his probably doing the same thing, so he let himself go with the promise that there was no way she would hear him. He cried harder when he realized he couldn’t hear himself either.

Afterward, using the phone in the kitchen, Robin called her mom and told her the same practiced story about the ‘explosion’ at the mall, and got permission to stay at a friends while he waited for medical clearance, that part an unfortunate reality. If she left now, there was the chance, albeit a small one, that Steve wasn’t in the clear, and his brain could hemorrhage or something and he’d just die alone at home.

Reluctantly her mother agreed to let her stay, concerned for her daughter's safety and a random boy’s intentions with her, but she had eventually given up against Robin’s begging.

Once she was done, the conversation with Steve’s ima over the phone in the living room went completely different.

Overreacting was Ruth-Anne Harrington’s middle name, and the very moment she weaseled out of her bubbeleh that there’d been an accident and he’d been involved, she was practically packed and halfway back to Hawkins.

After that, he and Robin kind of just sat there until Ima Ruth got there. With what they’d seen and what had been done to them, there wasn’t really much else either of them would rather do but exactly that.

A few hours into reruns of some old sitcom Steve’s ima used to watch, Robin nudged him with her knee to let him know she was going to speak. “Should we try to get some sleep?”

Already knowing that his answer was a resounding no way, absolutely not, Steve shrugged his shoulders and acted casual instead, “Dunno.”

Robin sank further back into the couch and nodded, fiddling with the hem of the borrowed pajama shirt that she’a wearing, “You holding up okay, popeye?”

The little chuckle that Steve gave in response sounded kind of wet, and she could hear it in his voice that he was going to cry before either of them saw tears. “Not really.”

His lip trembled and Robin felt tears pricking in her own eyes, so she sat up straighter and pulled Steve close. It was kind of an awkward angle, with her folded legs pressing into his side, but it didn’t really matter to them right now. They needed to be there for eachother.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-

Only a few hours after sunrise, Ruth rang the doorbell like her life depended on it, immediately dropping her bags on the stoop to hug her son. If he had any more tears to shed he would’ve, but him and Robin had done pretty much nothing but cry all night.

Stephen Sr. had not been able to, or rather, willing to make the flight all the way back to Hawkins from where they had been staying for some meeting in Dayton, but Steve would rather have only seen his ima anyways.

Her manicured nails in his hair, her sweet perfume, and her slightly too tight hugs were much better than the scornful glances and backhanded comments he would’ve heard from his father from behind the newspaper anyways.

He helped her drag all of her luggage into the house, then he and Robin sat down at the kitchen island while Ruth made them some tea. Something she did always made it better than when Steve would try to, with the same tea bags and everything, but she would never tell him her secret.

Sliding them both identical mugs and wrapping her hands around one for herself, Ruth leaned forward with her elbows on the island so she was eye level with them. “So what happened?”

Knowing that Robin was probably super uncomfortable right now, Steve took the bullet for her, “There was an explosion at the mall after we closed up Scoops. A buncha’ kids got trapped in ‘ere. There was just like, debris everywhere a-and we just… yeah.”

Ruth could tell just from her son's voice something was off. His words were all running together, and his pronunciations sounded off. It reminded her of when he was a toddler and she had to send him to speech therapy to teach him how to talk in the ‘proper’ way that didn’t reflect his mothers accent. “And are you okay?”

“We, uh, don’t really know yet.” It’s the half truth. They don’t have all the results. But Steve is really just nervous to tell her something so big.

She gets closer, putting the pressure on, “Stefan. You can tell me anything.”

“I- um. I kinda sorta-“

“He’s deaf.” Robin cut him off and said the words for him, knowing he was too scared to tell Ruth, who she’d heard many not so lovely things about. Maybe it’s just because she knows what it’s like to have parents who don’t show up, but she doesn’t forgive Ruth for abandoning Steve, no matter the excuse. So she’s brutally honest, “His eardrums were blown out and there’s a chance he has a brain injury.”

“Oh, honey.” She picked up Steve’s hand in her own, rubbing her thumb across his knuckles. “When will we know?”

“Sometime later today.” Steve answers on his own.

It doesn’t erase the concern, or the irritated pursed lips, from Ruth’s face, “What do we have to do for you?”

“They just said they’d lemme know when they called me back.” For some reason, Steve feels guilty about not knowing. Like it’s his fault and not the systems. He feels dumb.

“Alright.” Is all Ruth says. It only cements in Robin's mind that this woman isn’t actually the best mom in the world. Steve needs comfort and support right now. Not a performance of concern. Not hollow questions asking if he needs anything while knowing he definitely does.

Still, Robin herself was in an okay enough place after spending all morning with Steve that she figured it was time to butt out. Her own mother is probably going to freak out on her for not going home last night, it’s best to go anyways.

Once Ruth turned her back to them again, she tapped the side of Steve’s mug to get him to look at her, “I think I’m gonna call my mom for a ride and skedaddle.”

Immediately Steve objects, “But you don’ have to go.”

“I can stay if you want me to.” Robin offers, instead of arguing, and Steve realizes she’d read him exactly right.

A guilty look on his face, Steve bit his lip and looked at his mum where she was bustling around in the kitchen around them. Robin knew that meant he wanted to be alone with his mom, and despite her reservations about Ruth from the stories she’d heard, she could understand that.

“I’m going to be fine Steve. Worry about yourself for a change.” Robin hugs him, gently so she doesn’t aggravate any of his injuries, “Call me if you need me though popeye.”

She called her mom and waited awkwardly by the front doors, and, despite how not-normal this situation was, it felt just like any other time leaving a friends house, with the awkward ‘I don’t really know what to say but I’m about to leave’ kind of vibe, and in a strange way it comforted her.

Steve would be okay. She would be fine. They both would be and so would everyone else.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-

The call had come and Steve was dealing with a severe concussion, but it wasn’t anything he would die from, not from an unexpected aneurysm or a stroke like he had convinced himself.

Except for the complete loss of his hearing and the fact that there was nothing he could do about it, he was feeling a little better.

Technically there actually was a solution. At the same time that the hospital told him his brain was fine, they’d offered to get him fitted for hearing aids, but two days later Stephen Sr. finally returned from the birthplace of aviation and the appointment was canceled.

Where Ruth reacted to everything that could possibly be wrong with Steve with the instinct to coddle him, his dad did the opposite. He was cold and harsh Steve’s entire childhood, like the time he was eight years old and broke his elbow playing soccer, but was cut out of the cast early on his fathers orders. Or when he lost his tooth in the dry steak at a fancy restaurant and got slapped for crying.

When they had told him the news of Steve’s disability, both Steve and his mother staring down at the wooden table and twiddling their thumbs, he had the audacity to laugh. He thought they were just making a mountain out of a mole hole, that Steve probably just had some congestion and would be fine in a few days.

Steve tried really, really hard to follow the rules and listen to what his father said to avoid conflict, but after a week he knew it was hopeless.

In just that one week alone, he had been through three phone calls with various people checking up on him that he didn’t hear more than a few words of. He’d discovered when a police officer showed up at the door to get a statement out of him about the mall that looking into other peoples faces was much harder than before thanks to the torture he’d been through, and suddenly it was next to impossible to hear what anyone was saying to him without the extra help of being able to read their lips.

Possibly worst of all, he kept getting whacks to the back of the head with the newspaper or his fathers hand for not answering when he was spoken to or missing out on conversation.

This just wasn’t going to work.

His ears were not going to just magically get better at hearing, and as hard as it was to realize that at 19 he’d have to wear hearing aids like his zeydee did, after an entire week of this icky feeling of being isolated with his head under water, he had to do it.

That morning, he sat down next to his ima on the couch and told her, as casually as possible, “I would be okay if you guys had to leave again.”

Ruth, keeping her eyes low and her face in her cup of tea, mumbled out her response, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear it, “We wouldn’t just abandon you dear.”

Steve’s face scrunched up with the effort of trying to understand her. She gave a second, clearer answer to spare him the trouble, “Are you certain you’ll be fine Stefan?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure.” He nodded, probably making it even less believable, but as Ruth was between a rock and a hard fist, she accepted it as truth.

“Well, your father has a meeting in Pittsburgh tomorrow morning, and he’s been asking me to go with him..” It was clear in the look on her face that she wanted to turn away, but she remembered his current state and kept her face turned towards him. She’s implying things again, letting Steve do the heavy lifting so she doesn’t have to.

“You should go ima. I’m okay now.” An ingenuine smile to finish it off, and Ruth’s decision was made.

His parents were out of the house by that same afternoon in a slurry of excessive amounts of hugs and promises to call from Ruth, while he got another smack to the back of his head from Stephen Sr.

As soon as the Rolls Royce pulled out of the driveway he ran to get ready. There was an audiologist at the hospital, and he was determined to go there, even if his father had been awful to the staff about canceling the appointment.

See, Stephen Sr. had built up quite the reputation in Hawkins, but where most of the public, like his teachers and his neighbors, thought it was a case of tough love between the Harrington father and son, the doctors at the hospital knew it wasn’t really like that at all. It was all in his records, the suspicious amount of injuries and all the denied treatments for them.

Since he was about ten they’d been leaving him alone for all their business trips and whatnot, and ever since then he’d been taking himself to the doctor for things they deemed too trivial. Mostly it was for his allergies, like to get the epipen he was told he didn’t need or a breathing treatment that one time his mom used coconut perfume before date night, but there were quite a few of the occasional instances of injuries like concussions during off seasons and fingers slammed in car doors before he was old enough to drive.

The staff were pretty good about letting him in without an appointment, and this time was no different.

When he got there, a woman behind the desk signed him in with a sympathetic smile when she heard what happened, and said he’d only have to wait about a half hour.

He was called back and they did yet another hearing test on him, just to be extra sure it wasn’t a temporary effect from the ‘explosion’ and deemed that yeah, he was definitely still very deaf.

Piles of papers were thrown at him detailing all the different options and information for hearing aids, and they took some molds of his ears. The doctor told him it would take about a week, and then they’d call him back in and give him the hearing aids. Simple as that and he was being hurried back out of the room already.

It felt odd just walking out after that, maybe because he still couldn’t hear a damn thing and had to wait another week to get his hearing back, and he found himself lost in his thoughts and in the hallways of the hospital.

Eventually he ended up in the waiting room of an entrance he hadn’t even used, but all thoughts of how the hell to escape this labyrinth of a hospital were pushed out of his mind when he caught sight of a familiar redhead in one of the blue plastic chairs.

Max had been the only one of the kids he hadn’t talked to since that night, so he sat down next to her. It didn’t seem like she noticed him at first, just kept her head down to stare at the pages of a magazine she definitely wasn’t actually reading, until she sighed and slammed it shut, turning to face him.

“What're you doing here?” There was a bitterness in her tone that Steve definitely didn’t expect, and a hard set look on her face to go with it.

As if, with the fading bruises and cuts still all over his face and the blood still pooled around his iris, he didn’t look like he belonged in a hospital. Then again, he probably looks a lot better than Max’s brother.

“I needed to get my ears checked out again. Fireworks got me pretty messed up.”

Instantly her face softens, and she sits back in her chair. “Good. I thought you were here to tell me to go home.”

If Steve is guessing right, then she’s here to see Billy, since he had nearly died, but Steve couldn’t understand why anyone would tell her to leave her brother behind. “Why would I do that?”

“Because pretty much everyone else has.” She snaps then turns her face away, muttering, exasperated, under her breath. “They think I’m just wasting my time.”

Steve didn’t catch what she said at all. He feels bad about it, but has to clarify, “What?”

There’s tears in her eyes and a crack in her voice as she turns back and practically shouts in his face, misunderstanding his inability to hear as a lack of understanding, “They think Billy’s some kind of monster or something and they don’t want me to come see him!”

“Oh.” Blinking a few times, Steve tries to think of the right thing to say. “How.. is he?”

She shrugs her shoulders as a response, chewing her trembling lip to try to keep the angry tears from spilling over.

“Do you want me to go with you? To see him?” The feeling of going through something like this alone was all too familiar to him, so while he and Billy hadn’t exactly been friends, he couldn’t leave Max here alone, crying in the middle of the day, while all her friends isolated her for it. He figured it didn’t really matter who was in the hospital bed as long as he was doing it to support her.

All she manages is a nod, and a sob she’d been trying to contain rattled her shoulders. Of all the kids he was probably the least close with Max, but in that moment he decides it isn’t important, and he wraps his arm protectively over her trembling body.

Visiting hours had opened earlier that morning, but they were doing some sort of test on Billy now, so they would have to wait.

In the meantime, Steve decided to take Max down to the cafeteria for some cheap food. A cup of jello and a bagel sandwich for each of them later, she was leading Steve back upstairs and down the hall to see if Billy was done.

Max saw the nurse lingering in the lobby and rounded the corner like a bat out of hell, tennis shoes squeaking on the floor.

As if she had to say anything, the nurse announces, “Mr. Hargrove is ready for you.”

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

Whatever Steve had been expecting to see in room 212, it was not Billy Hargrove awake, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Had Steve just been impaled through his chest, especially considering how crummy he feels from just his injuries, he doesn’t think he’d be half as alert or completely normal seeming as Billy was.

Other than the obscene amount of bandages around his torso and the oxygen tubes in his nose, he looked mostly just like he had before. Not even ‘before’ as in recently before being admitted to the hospital, he’d still looked pretty run down in the weeks leading up to the incident, but ‘before’ as in when he’d first moved to Hawkins.

Adorned with that playful glint in his eyes that Steve hadn’t seen since last November before they’d gotten into a fight, Billy’s gaze follows him into the room, “Didn’t expect to see you here, Harrington.”

And Steve can tell he’s on all kinds of pain meds, from how wide his smile goes, how light his voice is, and he wonders if Billy’s like him, doing better on the outside than underneath.

But he still thinks he should respond so, with hands shoved into his pockets, Steve leans against the wall by the window and shrugs his shoulders. “Wasn’t planning on being here, Hargrove.”

Max on the other hand, sat herself down on the foot of Billy’s bed, crossing her legs so the both of them would fit together, and launched into a story about her day. It was mostly just complaints about the other kids ditching her and Susan not staying like she said she would, but Steve wouldn’t know all that.

From where he's standing, he can’t see most of Max’s face, so he keeps his eyes downcast at the blue and white floor, counting flaws in the tiles and trying his best to focus hard on what she’s saying. Most of what he gathers is confusing nonsense and it’s sort of miserable.

While she talked, even though he was listening and offering his input, Billy finds his gaze drifting over to Steve in the corner instead. The way he’s concentrating so hard, the way he doesn’t startle or look up like both he and Max had when an announcement came on the overhead speakers, or how, even when his own name is brought up in the conversation he doesn’t respond. To him, it’s become obvious there is a problem.

Max got to the present in her story, where she told him why Steve was here too and, seeing an opportunity to test his theory, Billy asks, “That true, Harrington?”

A second or two too late the words, spoken loud enough that he could just barely hear them, try to register, and he gathers that he’d been addressed by name, but Steve doesn’t hear the rest.

Looking up at the two of them, he sees Max had turned around to stare at him with big eyes and Billy’s drowsy gaze fixed onto him, the pair of siblings waiting for an answer. Steve felt a little heat rise to his face instantly, “Huh?”

“You can’t hear a damn thing can you?” Billy looks curious, almost fascinated by Steve and his situation.

For some reason, despite the seemingly rude bluntness of a high Billy Hargrove, it makes him decide to tell the truth, “Not really, no.”

Taking it in, Billy nods slowly, and eventually asks him, “You know sign language?”

“I never learned it, no.” Steve had only taken French in highschool to help his once best friend Heather get back in touch with her roots since her parents wouldn’t teach her the language of the city she was born in.

His were the same way, but they didn’t offer Yiddish classes at Hawkins High, and definitely not any form of Sign Language either. If only.

What Steve isn’t expecting is for Billy to offer, with one hundred percent certainty, “I could teach you.”

That’s surprising for some reason. Not the fact that Billy would teach him, since he seems in such a cheerful mood anyways, but rather that he’d be able to. “Wait, you know it?”

Still bobbing his head in a rigid nod, so much it makes Steve almost dizzy to watch, Billy explains, “Yep. My momma was deaf. She taught me growing up.”

That explains how he caught on so quickly then. It’s actually not that unexpected with the way he’d noticed Billy staring at his lips instead of making eye contact, since even before their fight. Still, he’s shy about accepting the offer at first, “Oh. I mean, if you wanna teach me..”

Billy doesn’t need any more than that to confidently declare, “Your first lesson is tomorrow. Bring a notebook and some snacks. We have lots of work to do.”

Equal parts excitement and fear flutter in Steve’s chest. The idea of being taught by Billy isn’t the worst, he’s honestly pretty neutral about that. It’s more the idea of having to learn things in general that scares him. He’d done terribly back in school, skating past only with the help of a personal special ed tutor. Any subject where he has to write or read anything is going to be a disaster.

More vulnerable that he expected, Steve brings up those fears, “What if I can’t learn it?”

“We’ll keep trying. It’s not like it’s gonna kill you to mess up.” The question hadn’t even fazed Billy. He’s so confident, Steve feels like it’s contagious.

Being able to communicate better than his attempts at hearing sounds fun actually, and the way Billy has been so kind about everything, Steve’s maybe looking forward to it. “Yeah.. Yeah! I’ll come back tomorrow.”

With that arranged now, Steve decided it was time to go. Besides, he has to go to Robin and tell her absolutely everything. Maybe they’ll have a little sleepover since Steve’s parents are gone again, and then Robin can bring Steve to see Billy tomorrow. She’ll be happy for him. Anything to make life so soon after the disaster easier.

He stands up, and thanks Billy quickly, and with a few pats to Max’s head he’s on his way out the door.

“I’ll see you then, pretty boy.” Billy had said it more quietly, meaning it registered only as a low rumble, but from the pitch he could tell it was Billy saying something. Already he feels that familiar with his new friend, a good sign for their future.

Still, he’s curious about what he said, so he turns back around and asks, “Huh?”

“Just saying bye, Steve.” Billy smiles, in contrasts with a subtle flush on his face, and waves, the tubes in his IV coming up with his arm, a reminder that he’s still in recovery too. It’ll probably make a world of difference for him to have Steve visit, based on what Max was saying.

Steve returns a vibrant smile before he exits, “Oh. Bye!”

Once he’s gone, probably back in his car and driven off already, Max looks at her brother and scoffs, well aware of another reason he wants to get close to Steve; the crush he’s had on him since they met, for example. “God, you’re a dork.”

“I’m a man in love, Maxine. And I got a date with Steve.” The drugs are definitely making him a little loopy, but even he should realize that’s a bit of a stretch just for a couple of sign language lessons.

Max just rolls her eyes at him affectionately, “Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming.”

[dragonflylady77]

Please.

So for the Doctor AU what happens when Billy sees the video? There's no way he posted that on his own lmao

Doctor AU is back, baby. Part 3?

"Heather," Billy sighed into his phone, "Something's wrong with my tiktok."

"Like what?" He could hear Heather's new kitten yowling in the background.

"My notifications," He frowned. Normally his notification page was empty, except for the single heart stopping day that Steve had responded to his comment. But now it was full of strangers.

"Oh, yeah, I know," Heather said distractedly. "You got a pretty good amount of views for the first one."

"You know? Wait... the first what?"

"Your first video."

"Heather," He blinked, "You didn't tell me it can take videos without me saying so."

She sighed, "I know the Matrix is really good, beautiful trans allegory, groundbreaking visuals, but it's not actually real, Bils. The app doesn't take videos without your permission."

He sighed with relief.

"But I do."

"Heather! What the fuck!"

"What? You were just gonna stare at his videos lustfully and never talk to him. I did you a favor."

He scrambled at his computer, trying to find the video.

"Heather, this is so inappropriate-"

"He sent you a DM by the way," Heather interrupted, "A direct message, before you ask."

"Did you answer that too?" He pouted, not wanting to navigate away from NurseStevie's page in case it took him back to the awful "for you" page.

"No," Heather's smile could carry through the phone, "It wasn't a message for me."

Billy scowled but unfortunately he needed Heather's help. It's not that he didn't know how to use a computer, he was on one practically all day. But the way the tiktok site looked did not inspire confidence.

NurseStevie: Uh, did you mean to send this to me?

Attached was the video apparently. Billy watched it with dawning horror. Heather was dead. She was his best friend and he would miss her but he couldn't go on like this.

NurseStevie: But also, Hi. You probably don't remember meeting me a few months ago. I'm sure I've embarrassed myself about a hundred times, and I really hope you haven't seen all of my videos. Maybe we could meet again? Like... in the cafeteria. Or at the grocery store? Or... anywhere really?

Billy made an embarrassing noise he would never admit to, and, panicked, closed the browser.

---

Pst @intothedysphoria @dragonflylady77

[medusapelagia]

Harringrove Movember Day 01: Facial Hair

written for @harringrovemovember

Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove WT: hospital, mention of injuries Words: 705

The day Billy finally leaves the intensive care no one is there waiting for him.

Not that he really thought that someone would have shown up after he killed half of the Hawkins’ population, but still, he would have liked to see someone different from doctors and nurses.

He sighs, it's fine, he is a big boy, he is not sad or disappointed.

"Are you happy to be finally free from tubes and breathing masks?" Owens asks while entering Billy's new room.

"Ecstatic."

The man sits on the side of his bed "What's wrong, kid?"

Billy lifts his sight, ready for a fight, but he can't find any trace of rage in the man's eyes, he really cares about his answer.

"I thought... I thought that maybe Max..."

"Oh, I see. That's actually my fault. I told everyone that I wasn't going to let anyone in until you said so." the doctor replies, putting a hand on your shoulder "Do you feel comfortable to see them?"

Billy knows that he is not exactly good looking: he lost weight and his body is covered in scars, so no, he is not comfortable with that, but he really needs to see a friendly face.

"There is someone who insisted on coming. They are in the waiting area, should I let them in?"

Billy is so close to begging that he doesn't trust his own voice and just nods to the old man.

"Ok, but if you feel uncomfortable you press this red button right here ok? And I'll send a nurse in. Do you promise?"

The answer is just a whispered "Yeah."

When Owens leaves the room and Billy is left alone to stare at the white wall in front of him, wondering who could have come to see him, he knows he wasn't really close to Max but he felt something shift in their relationship and he could almost swear that she was holding his hand while he was agonizing on the sticky mall floor.

He hears it before he sees it: the telltale sound of metal cuffs clinking at every step. 

A policeman.

Hopper probably.

Well it's ok, he will have some questions to ask, maybe some accusations to throw and... he turns when he hears the door open, and then he bursts out in a loud laugh.

"Harrington?" he asks, holding his waist while he keeps laughing so loudly that a nurse comes in to check on him.

"Yeah, me. Don't cream your pants."

"What the fuck happened to you?" Billy asks, wiping away the tears from laughing so hard that his stomach hurts.

Steve looks like a Hopper's younger version, he is dressed in a policeman uniform and has a big mustache on his face.

"I grow up, Hargrove!"

"I see you have a thing for uniforms." Billy mocks him.

Steve lifts his eyebrows "What?"

"Sailor, policeman, do you have a nurse one too?"

Steve finally laughs "It seems to me that you are the one with a thing for uniforms!" he replies smiling. 

He gets closer "How are you feeling?"

"Honestly? Tired. And I don't even know why, I mean, all I have done in the past weeks was sleeping."

"Months."

"Uh?"

"Months. You have been in and out from a coma for months."

It makes sense, Steve couldn't get a police badge in a few weeks.

"So policeman, uh?"

Steve shrugs "It looks like the right kind of job for someone like me."

Someone who is fiercely protective and who knows how to fight.

Billy smiles "Who knows, maybe I'll join you. Can you imagine? You and I on the same team."

Steve winks "I'm sure they'll call us Trouble Agents."

Billy laughs again, is nice having something to laugh about and even something to look forward to.

"Is growing a mustache a requirement?"

"I guess so. I mean... Hopper has one, Powell has one,  Callahan has one and now I have one too."

Billy sighs "Fine, I'll join you. I look really hot with a mustache." he replies, while his eyelids close on their own

"You do." Steve whispers, while he tucks him in bed.

The last thing Billy sees is his Steve’s tick mustache getting closer to his forehead.

[lovebillyhargrove]

Billy is in hospital after the Starcourt massacre. It's a miracle he's still walking, still standing, still breathing. Still alive.

Everything hurts. He's a fucking wreck.

But he's getting better. Slowly his body is healing itself, cell by cell. Small steps, they say. Day by day. Hour by hour.

It's gonna take more than one inter-dimensional monster to take him down.

Every day and every hour doctors and nurses poke and probe at him. Endless tests, needles, bandages. Billy's grateful but he hates it all. He wants out of here. He wants to feel life.

One day Billy says "Fuck it" and takes the IV needle out of his tired vein.

Climbs out of the window. Has made a sheet rope, just like in movies, for fuck's sake. It's the second floor, he's in his right mind not to risk jumping. Not in his current state, anyways.

Steve is waiting for him on the ground and they run-walk to the newly repaired Camaro parked behind the hospital building. The car shines in the moonlight. Billy missed it so much, he's about to kneel in front of it and cry.

"Let's go, baby." - Steve kisses him, quick and promising. - "I'm taking you home."

[fizzigigsimmer]

Bake Off: A Harringrove Sim Story

Chapter 4

Copperdale studios, early morning.

The commercial break ends and we're back with Nancy and her guest's Steve & Billy on the couch of her morning show.

Nancy: Welcome back! I'm Nancy Wheeler and this is 'Good Morning With Nancy'. Before the break my guests, the owners of Harringrove Cafe, revealed the first two teams in Copperdale's very first amateur baking competition. But there's one more team left to introduce. Steve, Billy, everyone is wondering who made the final cut!

For the first time Billy looks almost more excited than Steve.

Billy: Team 3 is the best team in my opinion. There's Robin Buckley, of Dirty Paws training center; who is a bit of a spazz yeah, but is actually pretty good in the kitchen. Although I still say it's weird she cooks in the same kitchen where she makes dog treats.

Steve: Hey! It's not like she doesn't wash everything in between.

Billy: Whatever you say. I don't know if I trust it. But I'd trust her partner Chrissy Cunningham with anything. She's like, my favorite person.

Steve pouts. He seems a tad jealous.

Steve: You can't have favorites Billy!

Billy: Oh please. Everyone knows Chrissy is my best friend. Best friend. Favorite. What's the difference?

Steve: Yeah but, people will think their team has an unfair advantage if you go around telling everyone that!

Nancy: Hmmm... but isn't Robin your best friend, Steve?

Steve: For the duration of the competition I have decided that I have no friends. I'm 100% impartial.

Billy rolls his eyes as Nancy laughs.

Nancy: Aren't you two banned from the Karaoke machine for life because you tried to sing that Toy Story song in Russian and wouldn't let anyone else have a turn?

Billy starts to giggle at the memory and Steve blushes.

Steve: Okay. Maybe it's a good thing the final vote is up to the public.

Nancy: Yes, I think so. But the question on my mind is how did you convince her to get involved with a very public show like this? Robin is known to be very camera shy.

Billy: Yeah, I've been wondering that too.

Steve: Well...

A few weeks earlier....

Steve walks through the park on a cloudy afternoon with his best friend Robin. With them 'Captain Roger' an excitable boxer breed that Robin is pet sitting for a client. Steve has been trying to convince Robin to participate in the Bake Off but Robin is reluctant. The idea of being on TV makes her too nervous.

Roger gets a scent in his nose and starts to run ahead. Steve notices a sign in the park reminding people to leash their pets.

Steve: Hey, is he okay off leash?

Robin: Of course. It's part of the training. I like this park because it's usually empty this time of day and we can work on heel and return commands without being disturbed too much.

Steve was never allowed to have pets growing up and is always very fascinated by Robin's work with animals. If only Billy weren't allergic.

Steve: He really comes back on command? That's so cool. What a good boi! You're a good boi aren't you Roger.

... In the studio

Billy: *sighs* You tried to pet it didn't you?

Steve: What! Why would you think that?

... back in the park

Steve goes to pet Roger, forgetting what Robin told him about Roger disliking people reaching for him suddenly. Robin cries for him to wait but it's too late. The fearful dog goes on the attack and Robin gets bit separating them.

Steve: Robin! You're bleeding.

Worse! Roger has run off. Along with Robin's paycheck and possibly the reputation of her business!!!

Steve: Lets get you to the doctor. Thank god the clinic is close.

Robin: Forget about me! Get the dog!! Roger! Roger here boy!

Steve: Stop, before you hurt yourself. I'll get him and meet you at the clinic.

Robin: Are you sure? What if he tries to bite you again.

Steve: That was my fault before. I won't forget to go slow this time. Just trust me, alright?

Robin: I trust you. You better find him Dingus!

Later at Copperdale Health Clinic ...

Robin sits on an exam bed while nurse Chrissy cleans her wounds and wraps them to keep them from getting infected.

Chrissy: There. You're all done, Robin.

Robin: That wasn't so bad.

Chrissy: It's a good thing you didn't need any stitches. But what's wrong, Robin? You look upset.

Worried, Robin gets up and begins to pace.

Robin: I'm worried about Steve. I mean he's a complete dingus for forgetting Roger is people shy, but I still don't want him to become a chew toy. He's probably puppy chow by now.

Chrissy: I'm sure he's fine Robin. Steve's always come through for you before hasn't he?

Robin: *sigh* That's true I guess.

DING. Over the sounds of the busy clinic an elevator arrives down the hall.

Chrissy: Robin look!

It's Steve, and trotting happily at his side is Roger. Robin isn't going to have to explain things to his owners after all.

Steve: You owe me big Robin.

Robin: Oh as if! This was all your fault to begin with. If anything I owe Chrissy. She's the one who patched me up and kept me from worrying about your stupid ass.

Steve and Chrissy share a look and Chrissy's smile turns just a little bit evil.

Chrissy: True. And I know exactly how you can repay me.

... Back in the studio

Billy: If I didn't know better I'd accuse you of blackmail. Did you two plan that whole thing?

Steve: Slander. I would never put someone in harms way just to achieve my goals Billy.

Billy: Yeah you would. Does Christmas of 86 ring a bell?

Steve: That was an accident! How was I supposed to know a moose was that dangerous?!

Nancy has heard this story so many times. Desperate to save her show before it can devolve into another retelling she jumps in.

Nancy: Let's meet the teams, why don't we?! Joining us on the stage this morning is team #1 Max Mayfield and El Hopper! Give it up for team one.

The audience cheers as Max & El walk out from backstage.

El: Thank you for having us!

Max: Yes. And that moose thing was half your fault Billy. I told you not to feed it peanut butter!

Billy: It was a baby Max! Was I supposed to let it starve?

Nancy: *raising her voice* Argyle Beachem and Eddie Munson of 2nd Grove, everybody. Come on out Team Two!

The crowd roars as Eddie and Argyle appear, waving to the crowd and posing for the flashing of lights as Eddie's fans start to rapidly take pictures. Laughing Argyle poses beside him and encourages them to get his good side.

Nancy: *smiling* And last but never least, give it up for Chrissy Cunningham and Robin Buckley. Our Team Three!

Nancy: That's all the time we have today folks. Tune in next week as we kick off The Harringrove Cafe: Amateur Bake Off, and watch these six talented competitors compete for the crown of Copperdale's most talented amateur baking duo! I'm Nancy Wheeler and this has been, Good Morning With Nancy!

The end...

This marks the end of the completed chapters. I will share some stills from the baking competition because they're super cute, but sadly I don't have time to finish the story. Thanks for joining me on the ride and I hope y'all had a good time!

[love-toxin]

Yandere fruity four with an angelface who was an experiment like El & has powers.

They can’t stand doctors or being trapped, if they see a needle they’ll break it instantly. When you’re sick or injured the four have to play nurse, and while it stresses some of them out (Nancy and Steve) they’re all either high key or low key happy for the excuse to dote on Angel and they’re all overjoyed when they realise what a show of trust it is.

And they have to use all their charm and persuasion and manipulation to convince them to stay inside, both out of possessiveness and their safety, and when they do go out they stick to angel like glue.

Angelface is incredibly resistant to capture or confinement, they may even be claustrophobic in particularly clinical or windowless rooms, and the thing with this Angel is that they can’t realistically keep them contained with force, especially if they had escaped the lab on their own. They can’t fight them or hold them down, they could potentially drug them but as soon as they sober up their trust is lost and they’re gonna bounce. I suppose they could keep them doped up, but the amount of intoxication needed to stop them from using their powers would essentially rob them of everything they love about Angelface, they wouldn’t be able to hold a conversation, or dance with them, or even understand the plot of a movie they stuck in front of them cuz they’d be so out of it.

Of course, this causes a fair bit of insecurity for our yan!fruits, cuz even a lil bit of sus behaviour sets off red lights in Angel’s head, at the beginning some of Nancy & Steve’s more controlling behaviour set them off and they almost ran for it, it took no small amount of begging and tears from Eddie & Robin (+ maybe Chrissy) for them to stay. So instead they turn to manipulation and bribery. Eddie/Robin/Chrissy have already deployed tears and they worked, Nancy & Steve maybe exaggerate any lab-related activities to compel them to stay inside, they all bribe them with food they never had, Rob/Steve bring back movie after movie from work insisting that they need to find Angels favourite, Eddie has to be very careful when introducing them to recreational drugs as they have that clinical trauma but teaches them how to enjoy themselves and relax, and I think they’d all use sexual bribes or use sex as a way to wear them out so they’re too tired or sore to want to go outside.

Not that Angel needs much persuading, they find crowds overwhelming and wants to avoid unwanted attention as much as possible, tho whenever they do go out they’re always with someone and more than likely wearing everybody else’s clothes which is a huge bonus.

They fucking love playing with their hair as it starts to grow out, they loved petting their hair when it was shaved but when it gets longer they get to brush it and help them style it to look nice, all of them making competitive jokes about whose hair they should copy or who styles it best.

Angelface starts out pretty naive and innocent (as innocent as someone w so much trauma can be), the world is unfamiliar and they’re still figuring out their individuality but their own inner possessive/protective/clingy yandere slowly emerges. The guys at work being patronising and demeaning to Nancy? His car ends up in a ditch on the way to the next story they were gonna steal from under her. Billy using dirty tactics against Steve during basketball? Get ready to eat it at the next game asshole, enjoy the twisted ankle. Someone calls Robin a d*ke at work? Sounds like someone who doesn’t need kneecaps, don’t come back. Eddie goes to do a deal and they decide to beat him up instead of paying him? An unseen force crushes both their hands and Angel dares them to tell anybody. TF4 don’t even fully realise it at first but over time Angel gets more blatant. Of course they want them to be careful and lightly scold Angel for it but they’re also hella flattered.

When it came to affection in the beginning they were pretty guarded, simultaneously touch starved and touch averse, the most they would do was lean into them when they sat/stood beside them, they mostly had to initiate. Now though? They can hardly get away from for a minute, if one of them needs to detach themselves from them they have to hand them over to someone else to tangle with. Nancy can now do paperwork with Angel cuddled up to her or laying in her lap, Eddie has figured out how to play guitar with Angel fully sitting on him, Robin and Steve will serve customers with a straight face with Angel clinging to their backs. They love it.

(Bit creepier but when Angel get nosebleeds from using their powers they low key fight over who cleans it up and they keep whatever bloodstained cloth they used afterwards, like a keepsake.)

- 🎃 bet you thought you saw the last of me

WROW THIS IS.......MNGH......!!!

ok but lowkey i wanna be their little unnerving-human-experiment-pet 🥺 the thought of skirting around them because you don't know how to socialize or how to differentiate good touch from bad touch, and they seem nice but you know you can't trust anybody, no matter how friendly they seem. like you said, breaking needles or even those soft syringes filled with cough syrup when they try to give you medicine, refusing to be taken to the hospital even when you're on the brink of passing out because of your nosebleeds, and just in general choosing to take care of yourself rather than trust anyone else cause you just can't bring yourself to be that vulnerable.

but when things start getting comfortable and you explore a little more, it gets so much easier. you wander over to the tv and start flipping through channels one day, you tentatively try some of the new foods you've never experienced, like boxed mac and cheese and fresh fruit. and when the four keep treating you nicely and giving you things you would have considered rewards every single day, you can't help falling in to their devotion. you learn how to love from them, you find out that it means protecting the people you care about no matter what. which is what causes you to turn that thinly-veiled anger and aggression towards others, bad people, who deserve it. in your opinion, bad people treating your loved ones badly is an unspoken agreement, one that they don't even really know they're agreeing to--because if they hurt your loves, then they forfeit whatever you deign to destroy. their property, their livelihood, their bones, whatever punishment fits the crime. and how are they gonna get away? who's gonna believe them? you'd love to see them try after they run with their tails between their legs--you won't be too worried though, because you'll be too busy cozying up to your partners with a pout after they gently scold you for committing a crime. but you don't get punished like you would at the lab, and they swear they'll still love you forever no matter what you do.....so maybe it's not too bad to get away with whatever revenge you feel is necessary.

[ghost4meeks]

𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐊 | 𝐫. 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬

𖤐 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𖤐 * "𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊'𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒖𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑, 𝒋𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒓 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒆, 𝒊 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒕. …𝒓𝒂𝒚, 𝒊𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖." *

𖤐 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, (𝐲/𝐧) 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐮, 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 (𝐲/𝐧) 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐬𝐬

𖤐 * 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒚 - 𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒌 *

𝐓𝐖𝐎

I dragged my eyes open as the stale smell of disinfectant and blood flooded my nostrils. 

'Fuck, I'm in the hospital.'

The events of tonight came rushing back in flashes and I instantly sat up, regretting it as a massive throb erupted from the spot I was hit on the head.

"Shit! Where is he?!" I shouted, my hand on my forehead as I stumbled out of bed, the pain in my side starting to grow, too.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Take it easy," A doctor came rushing into the room. He put his hands on my shoulders and forced me to sit down on the bed, a nurse rushing in soon after with some pills in her hand and a glass of water.

"Where is he?! Did they catch him?! I saw him! He was in the house, mask and everything! Please tell me they caught him!" I frantically asked, tears rushing down my cheeks.

The realization of what happened was starting to sink in and I was having a breakdown.

The doctor and nurse gave each other a solemn look before turning to me. "I'm afraid not. They weren't able to find any evidence of the killer, other than the damage to the house, your injuries, and the bodies of Steve Orth and Casey Becker."

'Casey. Oh God, Casey.'

The image of her hanging body flashed in my head, her bloody sweater, her insides hanging out, the fact that she was still clutching onto the phone. 

I let out an anguished sob and the nurse pulled me into a hug, stroking my back as I cried into her shoulder.

"Luckily, you didn't lose too much blood when you were found and we were able to stitch you up. Your head only had a minor contusion but nothing serious. T-." "Doctor Matthews to the OR. Doctor Matthews to the OR." The PA interrupted.

The doctor sighed and started towards the door, but not before stopping and looking back to me. "Try not to do anything strenuous for the next few days and it should heal just fine. Come right back if anything is bothering you, alright, Miss (l/n)?" 

"Alright," I sniffled, wiping my eyes as I lifted my head from the nurse's shoulder. He gave me a warm smile before exiting the room, leaving just me and the nurse.

"I'm gonna give you these," the nurse started, handing me the pills, "They're painkillers. Take them twice a day or whenever needed." 

I popped them in and used the water to wash them down. "You're cleared to leave the hospital so do you have anyone that can pick you up? Parents, siblings?" She asked, handing me the pill bottle.

"My, uh, my mom is away in New York on some business," I remembered Billy, "I have a friend that could pick me up, though."

She gave me a warm smile. "Alright, why don't you call them. I'll go get your discharge letter."

I nodded and went to grab the phone on the bedside table as she left. I dialed Billy's number and it rang a few times before he picked up.

"Hello?"

It was Stu. They were probably having a movie night at Billy's again.

"Hey, uh, Stu? I need you and Billy to pick me up from the hospital," I sniffed, trying to cover up the fact I'd been crying.

"(y/n/n)? Wait, why are you at the hospital?!" he exclaimed, audibly jumping up from wherever he was sitting.

"(y/n/n) is at the hospital? What the fuck happened?" Billy perked up in the background, his tone dangerous. He was always at the ready to fight someone.

"Someone attacked me and Casey at her house and they brought Steve Orth and killed him, and we tried to run but I got stabbed and Casey got-," I didn't want to say it, "Look, I just need you two to pick me up, please."

"We're on our way," Billy stated seriously, taking the phone from Stu, "Don't leave the hospital 'til we get there."

"Okay," I exhaled, a little bit of relief washing over me. Billy and Stu were strong, I knew nothing would happen to me if I was with them. And to be honest, I did not  want to be alone after what just happened.

I hung up the phone and leaned back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling as began going through the events of the night.

I know what happened wasn't my fault, but there was this nagging feeling in my chest that told me I could've done something more, that if I had done something different, Casey and Steve would be alive right now.

'Poor Ms. Becker. I can't imagine what she was feeling when she found her daughter.'

The blare of the phone made me flinch and snapped me out of my thoughts.

'Relax. You're in the hospital now.'

I picked up the phone. "Hello?" 

"Hello, (y/n)," the all too familiar voice greeted from the other side. My eyes went wide and I started to shake uncontrollably.

"You bastard!" I shouted, anger swelling in my chest.

"Poor Casey and Steve. With all the horror movies you watch, you should've known that the dumb blonde and the boyfriend always get maimed in the opening kill," he taunted.

"You sick freak! Who the hell are you?! What the fuck do you want?!" I yelled, a few nurses and a random doctor rushing in the room to see what the commotion was about.

"Don't worry. You'll find out soon enough," he answered before hanging up, the dial tone punctuating his warning.

I slammed the phone back on the stand and looked down at my hands, still shaking.

"Miss (l/n)? Your friends are here to pick you up," the nurse popped her head into the room.

𝒔 𝒄 𝒓 𝒆 𝒂 𝒎

"But, yeah. That's what happened," I sighed, finishing the story.

The two had asked what went down tonight and I explained. They were shocked to say the least.

"Holy shit," Stu gaped, popping his head in between the driver and passenger seat, "That's some real horror movie shit. Did it freeze on your face before cutting to the title card?" 

He laughed at his own joke but Billy glared at him through the rear-view, silently telling Stu to "shut the fuck up".

I knew that was his way of making me feel better, so I didn't really mind it.

"You are not gonna go anywhere by yourself anymore. No friends' house, no home alone, no nothing. Not unless me or Stu are there, alright? It's clear this freak gets off on shit like that," Billy asked, well, more like demanded. He wasn't gonna take no for an answer anyway.

Billy, Stu, and I have been best friends since Stu threw mud at my face at Jared Sweeney's birthday party in the 3rd grade. Stu and I got into a fist-fight and Billy had to break it up, and we've been practically family ever since.

Not to mention I was there for Billy when his mom left. I knew how he felt since my dad was killed a few years before and even though it was really depressing, we bonded over it. 

"Your little boyfriend counts, too," Stu snickered as he laid down in the backseat.

Billy's head perked up. "You have a boyfriend? Who?"

"I don't have a boyfriend," I rolled my eyes, "Stu's bein' an asshole."

"I think Randy would beg to differ," Stu chuckled.

"Randy?!" Billy exclaimed.

"Will you two idiots shut it?! Randy's not my boyfriend," I blushed, flustered.

"Your cheeks say otherwise," Stu teased.

Randy and I have been friends since middle school, and...I like him. A lot. I try dropping hints for him to pick up on but he's as dense as a rock, and I'm like 90% sure he likes Sidney anyway.

"Whatever. Is it okay if I stay over at your's tonight?" I sighed, trying to compose myself and make my blush die down.

"Of course. I was gonna make you stay over, anyway," Billy scoffed, almost offended at me thinking he would just drop me off at my house after what just happened.

Stu cheered. "WHOO! Horror Movie Marathon? Whaddya say?" He excitedly asked, popping his head between us again.

The car went dead silent and I leaned my head against the window, looking out into the dark suburban night.

Billy pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, "Read the room, dipshit."

𝒔 𝒄 𝒓 𝒆 𝒂 𝒎