#dads!harringrove

[harringroveera]

Steve looks a lil too proud of that

[theladycarpathia]

Billy’s not expecting the call from his dad.

“Billy?” Hop sounds distant, the faint sound of an idling engine in the background. Billy blinks, because his dad is at work and as far as Billy knows that usually means sitting behind a desk at the station and arguing with Flo.

“Don’t you have paperwork to be doing?” Billy says and Hopper snorts. There’s the sound of background traffic that’s then shut out by the clang of a car door.

“Don’t give me cheek, I am still the chief,” Hopper says as though that means anything in a small town where the most crime that they get is some drunk idiot attempting to rob the gas station.

“Yes, sir,” Billy quips and changes the channel. No one else is home and he’s bored. Jon and Joyce are still at work, and El and Will are doing weird nerd activities. The diner didn’t have a shift for him today and he doesn’t have a date, so he came home. He’d half expected someone to be here, instead of getting stuck with a protein bar and old reruns.

“That’s more like it,” Hopper says and then clears his throat awkwardly. “I was just wondering…are you definitely single?”

“Dad,” Billy says, attention now fully away from the TV set. Hop’s called him before, to ask him shit like do they need milk and to take the trash out. He doesn't call to talk about Billy's love life. They never talk about that, not after that time Hopper came in his room without knocking. “What is your next question, because this could make the next family dinner a little uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Hopper gripes. There’s the sudden cackle of laughter in the background and Billy sits up.

“Are you with someone?” he asks and then sucks in a breath at the implications. “Did you put me on speaker?”

“I may have done,” Hopper says, sounding sheepish. “I just picked up a young man outside the movie theatre and he’s about your age…”

“I’m nineteen!” the mystery guy hollers from the backseat. Hopper keeps talking like the guy hadn’t spoken.

“I don’t know, I just thought he was your type.”

Billy presses a hand to his temple, unable to believe that his dad has just said those words. “What’s my type?” he asks, wondering if he’s going to combust right here and now. Hopper makes that little awkward throat clearing again, like he can’t believe the situation either.

“You know,” he says stiffly. “Sort of…pretty.”

Oh God. Billy can never look Hopper in the eye again.

“You think I’m pretty?” the guy asks curiously, and Billy can’t blame him for sounding a bit weirded out.

“I think you look like a lot of the doe-eyed pretty-boys my son brings home,” Hopper snaps. Despite his obvious discomfort, Billy can’t help the rush of affection at Hopper trying to be supportive. Neil would have beat the shit out of him. Hopper tries to hook him up with appropriately aged delinquents in the back of the police car.

“A lot?” the guy asks and Billy flushes. He then regrets it because he has no idea if he even wants to impress whatever guy Hopper has picked up.

“It’s not a lot,” he says defensively because Hawkins isn’t exactly big on the gay scene. His last boyfriend he met at Tina’s Halloween party and to be fair, if you wear a kilt and not a lot else to a party in October, Billy’s absolutely going to beg you to rail him in the downstairs cloakroom. The relationship hadn't exactly worked out.

“Look, I get the feeling I’m never going to hear the end of this so here’s the situation,” Hopper says, sounding tired. “This is my son, Billy. He’s about to finish high school, he likes cars and burgers and loud music. He has shit taste in men even though he’s attractive, clever and a smart mouth. Billy, this is Steve. I was on my way back from the mayor’s office when I caught him peeing in an alley. Judging by his big brown eyes and the fact that public nudity doesn’t seem to be a problem for him, I thought of you.”

“Aww,” Billy drawls, sitting back on the couch. There are lights in the drive so someone has just arrived home. Which is good because he needs to tell everyone this story so they can give Hopper shit about it over dinner. “Pops, that’s so sweet.”

“Don’t say I never do anything for you,” Hopper says, like he hasn’t already done everything for Billy by getting him out, giving him a home. “I’ll take an extra polaroid when I process him.”

“I had to take a leak!” Steve protests and Hopper sucks in air through his teeth.

“There are public bathrooms, kid, I’ve heard those work pretty well. Billy, help your mom with dinner when she gets home.” Sucks for Hopper, it’s Jon heading up the path, keys dangling from his fingers. Billy can’t wait to tell him this story.

“Or what, you won’t bring me any more dates?” Billy asks, but he’s only half-joking. Hopper means well and kind of fucks it up a lot but this time he might have hit it right on the money. He thinks he might like Steve.

“Do I get a picture?” Steve asks. “Or does the Hawkins Police just pimp out young innocent men with full bladders?”

Oh yeah. He’s definitely going to like Steve.

“I have a picture on my desk,” Hopper admits grumpily. There’s the jangle of keys in the door as Jonathan lets himself in. “You can look at it if you’re good.”

“And what if I’m not?” Steve asks and Jonathan walks in just in time to raise his eyebrows at Billy.

“I can help punish him, if he’s not,” Billy suggests, and Hopper hangs up the phone just as Steve begins to laugh.

This has probably been done before because it's based on that famous tumblr post but it's so dull during school holidays I have nothing to do but write. And I have no in progress Harringrove fics which is probably a problem I should fix.

[intothedysphoria]

There was a certain type of guilt that accumulated when you know you’re the reason your boyfriend was shipped off to join the airforce.

Steve got consumed by it pretty quick.

They got caught. Steve really didn’t think he was that loud during sex and usually that would be true. Except apparently he was that loud while bottoming.

Neil hit the roof and Billy was gone like that.

He came back a year later. After Neil ran off to Alabama or Texas or Florida. Somewhere in the south.

Billy’s mullet had gone. In its place, there was a slightly grown out crew cut, hair already making an attempt to curl despite the lack of length. He’d gotten six new tattoos, including one in a language Steve didn’t understand. Probably Irish.

He’d left the Air Force the moment Neil disappeared. Apparently it had been a lot of standing around or sitting in aircraft carriers. Dishonourable discharge because Billy had shown great aptitude for flying but a complete disregard of authority.

Plus, Steve had never met anyone who was more vehemently anti military in his life.

They tried to pick up where they left off. Billy insisted that he was fine, he’d seen absolutely no combat and he’d gotten on with his bunkmates.

It wasn’t exactly Billy who was the problem.

Steve was paranoid. It was like somehow the ever present fear of Neil Hargrove had passed on from Billy to him.

Every time they were alone, Steve was convinced that someone was going to barge in and split them up. Taking Billy away from him again.

It was starting to put an actual strain on their relationship.

The worries were finally addressed in Walmart. The best place to resolve all problems.

Billy asked if Steve wanted to break up. Steve managed to stammer through “what the fuck no” before Billy demanded to know what Steve’s deal was then.

There was a beat of silence.

“Neil”

Billy’s face darkened in understanding.

They couldn’t hold hands in public but Billy’s arm moved a fraction closer to his.

It was all the confirmation Steve needed.

Things didn’t go back to normal after that. They didn’t live in a fairytale. But Steve finally let himself breathe. And slowly he let the guilt go.

For @oopsiedaisiesbaby

@shieldofiron @dragonflylady77 @runraerun @harringroveobsessed @thatgirlwithasquid

[ickypuppi3]

steve who’s always been soo confident in his straightness that jerking off with your boy best friend on the couch next to you is totally normal and cool or whatever versus billy who knows what he himself is all about (gay) (horrendously into steve) and therefore does his very best to put steve off the idea when he brings it up oh so casually one lazy afternoon

[fizzigigsimmer]

Steve of the Jungle is not as catchy as Joe of the jungle. 😆 But can you imagine Billy pestering Steve about his missing parents- cause like seriously why are they never around? He's met the snooty grandparents, and even the grandmother from hell seems to have warmed up to him so Steve can't be that worried about Billy meeting them. And just when he's starting to think Steve is hiding them - or some big secret about them - Steve announces out of nowhere that his parents invited them for a visit, in Africa, and he's accepted on their behalf.

Imagine Steve dragging his boyfriend through the jungle, all smug at first and then pouty when Billy has no problem with giant bugs and swinging vines. He's having the time of his life in the place Steve couldn't run fast enough away from. He thinks Steve is full of shit, talking about how his dads best friend is an ape. But he'll see. Steve hasn't been hiding his past on purpose. Ok he has, but with good reason. It's better to just show him then try and explain.

[weird-an]

It's a little cactus. Henderson of all people gave to Billy as a "unfortunately moving in" gift. Because it's as prickly as Billy. Because the kid holds a grudge against him, but Steve wants them to play nice. Because Dustin will come over to their trailer.

Billy puts the ugly pink pot near the window and ignores it for a few weeks. It doesn't die. It might have even grown a little.

But he can't ignore it. It's the only speck of green in their trailer that is full of thrifted furniture and stuff the nerds brought over. One day he waters it. When Steve is at work, like it's a guilty pleasure, something forbidden.

He does it again. And again. Just like kissing Steve, once he started, he finds himself unable to stop.

The cactus grows. So much even Steve notices one day.

"You're taking care of it," he grins. Oddly proud.

"It just won't fucking die," Billy mumbles.

"Of course." Steve shrugs. "I like it. Maybe it will even bloom one day."

"What kind of fantasy is that?" Billy rolls his eyes. His heart hopes it too.

Steve gives him a look that makes Billy feel see-through. "A good one."

A few days later Billy walks by a broken pot. There is a sunflower in it, a few leaves and petals broken off, but still alive.

He doesn't think. It's broken, but maybe he can fix it. He puts duct tapes around it.

When he's done and sure it will hold, he turns to the cactus. There's a tiny bud on its top.

Some things can grow here, Billy realizes.

Steve comes home and sees him crying over a sunflower and a cactus, but doesn't say anything. Billy loves him for it.

[yikesharringrove]

This is based off something that happens nearly every day in my place of work.

-

“Steve!” Heather hissed from her corner desk. “H.D. is out there!”

Steve stood up from his stool quickly, nearly sending it toppling to the ground. He raced around the tables in the room, settling near Heather’s desk and looking out the window. Robin had followed his steps, looking out from behind him.

“What in hell are you two on about?” She asked.

“Hot Dad.” Steve pointed out the window, at the man he and Heather has christened Hot Dad last year.

The preschool parents always grouped up outside the secondary entrance near the end of the day, waiting from their little ones to come out from the lower level preschool classrooms. And there, every single day, was Hot Dad, picking up his littlest girl, waiting for the older two from the main elementary.

Robin sighed, slinking back to her desk. The Special Ed classroom had an excellent view of the parking lot, and meant Heather and Steve had ample opportunity to stare at Hot Dad.

Today, was an especially good day. He was wearing shorts.

As in, short short

The gray athletic material was riding up on his thick thighs, a pink sparkly backpack slung over one shoulder, his hand in his daughter’s.

His three girls were nearly the spitting image of him, long, curly blond hair. Giant blue eyes that always crinkled up with chubby-cheeked smiles.

Steve had only interacted with him a handful of times, when he had opened up the car door to let the kids out of the back during the morning drop-off rush. He always said hello to Hot Dad, wishing him a good day as Hot Dad called to his girls, telling them he loves them.

“Why is it kinda extra hot that he’s a girl dad?” Steve said to a Heather, staring intently at H.D.

“I don’t know, but I get what you mean. And I mean, three girls is a lot for one man.” She sighed. “Do you think he reads them bedtime stories?”

“Oh, definitely. And I bet he does voices for all the little characters.”

“And he probably plays whatever they want.”

“Yeah, and I bet he’s all about making sure they’re tough. I’ll bet he wrestles around with them and wants to teach them how to fix cars and shit.”

Steve and Heather sighed, embarrassingly, at the same moment.

“Jesus, you two,” Robin chimed in. “Can you two go somewhere else to be this gross about a father at our school?”

“Nope! Not when it’s Hot Dad. Listen, you know I don’t want kids of my own, but a for Hot Dad, I’ll be a step mom. For sure.” Heather grinned at Robins wrenching sound. “I mean, they won’t have to call me Mom, but the youngest is only four, so it may be natural to her!”

Steve cackled, gently pushing Heather.

Steve returned to his desk, trying to ge Hot Dad out of his mind. He really needed to focus, and finish these accommodation letters to send out to the teachers, and he needed to-

“Hargrove.”

“What?” Steve turned to Robin. She turned her laptop around, one of Hot Dad’s precious daughters on the screen.

“His name is Hargrove. Billy, I’m assuming.” She turned the screen back towards herself. “And, he’s the only person listed as a parent for all three girls. They’re emergency contacts are listed as Father, Aunt, and Grandmother. Nothing maternal to speak of.”

Steve’s eyes lit up.

“What do you think are the chances he’s in to men? Because like, I’m not a classroom teacher. I don’t even have any of his kids in the program, so it wouldn’t be weird.”

Robin rolled her eyes at him, returning to whatever she was typing on her computer before the HD distraction.

“Yeah, because that would be weird. Yelling about how hot he is in front of an open window, that’s normal. But teaching his kids? Too far.”

Steve stuck his tongue out at her.

And then her words settled in.

“The window’s open?”

[cavinginhisfvce]

Hopper, casually ruffling Billy's hair: You did good kid! I'm proud of you.

Billy, bewildered: The hell did you just do to me?

Hopper, lowering his hand: I just tousled your hair. Ain't nobody ever done that to you before?

Billy, grabbing Hopper's wrist: Keep. Going.

[shieldofiron]

Billy is peeled to the window.

“They’re going to remove his eye,” The volunteer tells Steve, “So you could take him home but need to bring him back for surgery.”

Billy’s hand is held to the small holes of the cage, where a paw is reaching out for him. He’s making soft cooing noises, happy little sounds.

“If you take him, he has a daily medication. He can be skittish around men, loud noises,” The volunteer lowers her voice, “We believe he was abused, and either escaped, or was a stray unlucky enough to meet someone cruel.”

They weren’t planning on picking up a cat today. Steve had just heard from Robin that the humane society was waiving fees to clear out the animals.

Billy had been drawn to this cage, the orange tabby with the eye so swollen red, it made Steve wince. Like a magnet, he’d gone to that cage and hardly moved.

“We’ll take him,” Steve says, “The medications, all of it. We’ll do it.”

“Oh! Thank you. There’s a few forms-“ The volunteer is still talking, but Steve doesn’t hear.

His boyfriend’s face, and the cats, have both turned to him. There’s a light in both of their eyes that Steve is instantly a sucker for.

He kneels down next to Billy and reaches for the paw, “You named him yet?”

“We’ll he’s got a little cone, for his eye,” Billy smiles, “Maybe he’s a Scoops.”

—-

Just a little Harringrove cat adoption fluff because I took home a new kitty today.

[fuctacles]

*puts mouth on microphone* I would like to ask about single dad steve for WIP title game please

hahah, can you believe i wrote this over a year ago, then promptly went 5k deep into the continuation and immediately forgot about it? bonkers. hahah. Here's a part of it:

Just as Steve expected, his neighbors started giving him the stink eye as soon as they got wind of what was happening in his garage. Eddie even offered to close it up not to make a scene but Steve protested the idea. Said he’s not going to let himself be terrorized in his own home and more so won’t let his guests suffocate in a closed garage.

Every Tuesday Steve was preparing dinner to the sound of metal vibrating through the walls. When he got a free moment, waiting for the water to boil or the oven to heat up, he would step into the little rehearsal space.

Corroded Coffin was just an arm’s reach away whenever he felt like listening in. He just had to open the door and could sit on one of the steps leading into the garage. The guys played many original songs but just as many covers, some of which Steve recognized. He has always been a pop guy himself, but both Billy and Max liked some harsher music. It grew on him regardless if he liked it or not.

And watching them play felt amazing. Sometimes, between being a single parent and owning a hair salon, he felt older than he actually was. But right outside his door, in his space, there were four guys his age, jumping around the garage with contagious energy and playing songs from simpler times. He found himself tapping his foot to a cover of Queen. To think that at first, he was hesitant to let them practice here. Now it was a highlight of his week.

Max’s teacher, Eddie, was jumping around like it was a real stage, not a cramped square of stone flooring. He was the lead guitarist, which Steve knew thanks to his kid’s lengthy ramblings about her teacher. The guy also did most of the singing, but all of them joined in, depending on the song. It was clear though who was the frontman of their band.

They were playing an especially energetic song tonight, one that left Steve bopping his head happily. The members of Corroded Coffin shared the sentiment, jumping around and swooshing their fairly impressive manes of hair.

Eddie noticed him halfway through the song and grinned like he always did. Steve grinned back, genuinely happy for being able to have his own little show in the cookie-cutter cul-de-sac in the middle of the day.

But the music teacher didn’t stop there. He approached the steps Steve was sitting on and motioned him to join them. Steve looked at him with confusion and Eddie used the seconds-long break in his part of the song to pull him up. He fumbled for a second but the overall energy and Munson’s feral grin loosened him enough that he let himself be crash-coursed into headbanging.

He hasn’t felt more alive in years.

Eddie played his guitar, jumping around Steve and throwing his hair around. Most of the singing in this song was done by Jeff so besides playing the guitar he could do as much of a show as he wanted. When the track came to an end, they were both panting, leaning into each other and grinning. Steve couldn’t stop the breathy laugh that escaped him.

“Have I told you guys how great you are yet?”

“Only every Tuesday!” Gareth piped up from behind his drums, grinning. Eddie laughed as well.

“Didn’t know it was your scene, Harrington,” Eddie teased with a glint in his eye. Steve shrugged.

“Picked up some stuff from my ex,” he explained shortly.

Eddie quirked up his eyebrow with interest, strumming his guitar softly.

“Was she a metalhead or something?”

Steve observed him for a second, considering if he should correct him. It’s been already a month since they first met and the initial interest he had in the musician was only growing. Maybe it was a good idea to come out and test the waters. Worst case scenario he would have enough of a reason to drop this feeling before it turned into something more.

“He had a thing for classic rock.”

A look of surprise passed through the man’s face. He quickly schooled it into something friendly, but Steve could tell there were a million questions buzzing beneath.

“I see. Well, great to see some of the Hawkins folks educated,” he grinned, and it was genuine enough that Steve knew he didn’t have to worry about any kind of prejudice. He did a cursory glance around the other band members but they either weren’t listening or didn’t care about his impromptu coming out. Some of the tension seeped out of his bones. He motioned to the steps he just abandoned.

“I have some coke if you’re interested.”

Eddie’s features softened.

“Dude, you’re letting us use the garage, we should be treating you.”

Steve scoffed.

“Either you drink it or Max and you don’t want to see her on this amount of caffeine.”

Eddie barked out a laugh, and it warmed Steve all over knowing he caused it.

“Okay, fair. Thank you, then,” he smiled genuinely, disarming Steve.

They had the sodas while Steve came back to the kitchen to cook the pasta. He was still waiting for Max to come back from school too. She had basketball practice that day, which she picked up in honor of her brother, after bullying the teachers long enough to put together a small team of girls to play. The dead brother spiel worked in her favor of course. 

When the dinner was mostly ready, he stepped back into the garage, expecting another song he didn’t recognize, but instead, Eddie looked up at him, barely breaking out of their idle jamming.

“Do you know the words to Should I Stay or Should I Go?”

Steve frowned, taken aback by the abrupt question.

“I think so?” he answered hesitantly.

“Sweet,” Eddie grinned back at him. “Wanna sing for us?”

“Uh,” he hesitated, taken aback.

“C’mon, we’ll sing together,” Eddie offered and Steve hesitantly nodded. Eddie didn’t waste time and pulled him to the mic standing in the middle. It was the only one they had, rotating between Eddie and Jeff.

The familiar notes played around him and nudged with the metalhead's arm right against his, he joined him in singing.

Eddie’s voice was breathy from exertion, from playing for the past hour and jumping around. But here was a gleam in his eye, a delight from playing and maybe, maybe, from Steve agreeing to join them.

When the chorus came on, Steve felt confident enough to hip-check him out of the way and hoard the microphone for himself, He could hear Eddie cackling next to him, but he was now focused on singing and enjoying himself.

The song ended with cheers and a distant clapping. Someone whistled and Steve noticed Max applauding from the top of the stairs.

“Hey, if you’d want to sing for us sometimes, hit us up,” Jeff threw his arm around him. “You’re good,” he praised and Steve grinned his thanks.

Before he could say anything else though, someone was punching him in the ribs. He winced, knowing full well who it might be.

“You’re supposed to be my father, not a cool dude.”

Steve frowned.

“I don’t see how I can’t be both.”

“It’s a well-known natural order,” Eddie chimed in unprompted. “Parents can’t be cool.”

“Huh. Then I guess I should give you up,” he said, mock-seriously, making Max roll her eyes.

“Suuure, after all the legal shit we’ve been through,” she scoffed, looking at him in that way only teenagers could.

“Well, I think all the natural rules of a normal family are above us anyway, don’t you think?’ he raised his eyebrows, making Max smirk devilishly.

“Hell yeah. Fuck the rules.”

Steve pressed his lips not to scold her for language, but he looked to the side where, as he expected, Eddie was donning his proud teacher look. It warmed him up inside.

“Fuck the rules indeed, Red,” he grinned, holding his hand out for a high five,

Steve shook his head before gathering Max towards the kitchen.

“You guys keep it up, Max and I are gonna have dinner. Yell if you need anything.”

“Actually,” Eddie started, making both Harringtons turn in interest. “We have a show on Saturday if you guys wanna come.”

“Can I?” Max asked immediately, eyes darting between her teacher and Steve.

“We don’t usually have an audience this young, but with a guardian, it’s not gonna be a problem,” said Eddie, turning his gaze to Steve. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I usually work on the weekends, but I guess we could drop by.”

Max whooped happily and Steve couldn’t help but smile himself. He actually really wanted to see Eddie on stage, if he was anything like he saw today it would be a treat to witness.

“See you at the Hideout at 8 PM then,” Eddie grinned at them before they retreated to the kitchen.

At the table, Max eyed Steve with curiosity, pushing the broccoli on her plate out of the way. He was chewing with a distant look on his face, a foot tapping to the beat coming faintly from the closed door.

“The Hideout is a kinda shady place, don’t you think?”

Steve made a noncommittal grunt and shrugged before finally focusing his gaze on her. He frowned, cocking his head.

“Do you not wanna go?”

She scoffed, getting angry for something Steve couldn’t grasp.

“Do you want me to go?”

His frown deepened as he straightened up.

“Okay, wait. Do I want you to go to a concert with me? A concert we were invited to by your music teacher?” He raised his eyebrows, trying to find a hole in the idea.

“A metal concert. In a bar,” she pointed out, squinting at him. He squinted right back.

“So? You’ll be with me. I can get a leash if you’re insinuating you’re gonna cause problems.”

She puffed her cheeks, raising her hands.

“No insinuating here,” she assured. “Just, it’s not very,” she waved her hand. “Responsible parent of you.”

“No, but a very cool parent, I hope.”

“In your dreams”, she scoffed.

He smiled at her. She didn’t question his decision anymore, but Steve could feel her gaze on him later when they waved the band goodbye.

[travelingtwentysomething]

Interact in any way with any post I have personally made, I will follow you, but I really want to be mutuals so maybe you should follow me first

[harringroveera]

Robin: So how’s fatherhood treating you?

Steve: Good. I didn’t expect this much crying, though

Robin: Don’t worry, it’s normal for babies

Steve: Nah. The baby is fine. I was talking about Billy

Billy, sobbing from the nursery: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!

[xashthebugx]

Harringrove but Billy loves makeup. like absolutely adores it. But he's too scared to go out in public with it on so he hides in the comfort of his bathroom. That is until Steve walks in and Billy is terrified, shaking and desperately trying to get the makeup off and almost in tears. while Steve just stands there confused and thinking "HE'S EVEN HOTTER HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE"

Steve ends up calming Billy down enough to let him talk about how his parents were extremely transphobic and while Billy isn't trans, he would be crucified if they ever saw him with makeup on.

they end up cuddling and steve assures him that nothing is going to happen and all is well :)

[intothedysphoria]

No thoughts, only Steve crying in the bathroom after his attempt to dye his hair blonde to impress Billy turned it bright orange.

Billy is weirdly charmed by it. Which is a plus.

[ickypuppi3]

this but steve and billy in the 90’s or something

[fizzigigsimmer]

Don't Fuck With Dad

Also known as the ficlet where Billy accidentally becomes the guardian of a future baby and falls in love with his baby daddy in reverse.

The first raindrop splats against Billy’s cheek seconds before it begins to pour. Back home, Billy would have been able to sniff out the change in the air a mile away - that familiar scent of salt and brine that rolled in off the coast whenever a storm cell passed through.

There is nothing to warn anybody a storm is coming in Hawkins fucking Indiana. He hasn’t smelled anything but mud and cowshit for weeks, and the only respite he gets is when he is driving late at night, windows down, pedal to the floor.  

He’d ignored the first few drops and the heavy looming clouds because he didn’t want to entertain heading toward whatever lame hick shit the kids at school were getting up to. He sure as fuck wasn’t about to go home to Neil and his bad mood. 

It would be calling Billy’s number eventually, so why rush it? 

Except the rain was stirring up something foul - rot on top of wet  - the funk filling his nose. Taking a final drag on the cigarette between his lips Billy tosses it to the side of the road and rolls up his window before it can fill his car. God damn he hates this town.

The rain is really coming down hard now. Sheets of it blurring the lines of the road in front of him. He’s still a few miles outside of town. Thinks he’s getting close to the old power plant. There isn’t much to see on either side except for gray fields and the brown smudges of trees, either way but it still makes him a little edgy. He finds himself wondering about Max. Just because he’ll catch hell for not knowing if he gets home and precious baby Max is unaccounted for. Like it’s his fault her dumb ass doesn’t know enough to come in out of the rain.

Kid is probably fine. She is probably riding around like a queen right now in Harrington’s car with her nerd friends again. Which he isn’t going to think about, because he had new rules for himself since that strange night in October. Staying away from Steve is one of them, even in his mind. Especially in his mind actually. 

The irony is, he’s totally thinking about Harrington when it happens, but even if Billy hadn’t been distracted the rain was coming down so thick he probably wouldn’t have seen him anyway. The figure running across the road suddenly appears between his headlight beams and there’s nothing he can do but slam on the brakes and turn the wheel, hoping to god that he doesn’t hit them.

He does. The car slides on the wet pavement and fishtails to one side before he feels the ominous thud, between his palms and up his arms, his thoughts becoming a litany of oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

The body lays on the side of the road, a few yards away from where Billy struck it - him! Holy shit. It takes seeing the guys beat up sneakers and mud splattered levis for it to really sink in that he has just hit a real person with his car.  Like a live person, who might now be un-alived, thanks to him!

Billy’s knees are knocking together, his teeth rattling in his skull with shivers that have nothing to do with the rain soaking through his clothing as he runs over to the body. It’s definitely male - jean clad legs splayed awkwardly on the pavement, his toros curled in a fetal position. 

“Hey! Hey buddy, are you alright?” Billy calls, praying desperately for a response. Slides to his knees in relief at the body’s side when a pained groan reaches his ears.

Billy pushes at his shoulder to turn him over before he remembers that you’re not supposed to move an injured person and the man on the ground moans softly. The hair on Billy’s skin raises at the familiarity of the sound. And it’s a revelation, because there’s no reason for Billy to know Harrington by something as small as that - just a grunt of breath under the pounding rain - but apparently he does. 

Steve’s a wreck: tears in his clothes, scratches on his face and arms, and underneath the thick layer of dirt that stains everything else Billy spots blood. 

But it’s not just his injuries that unsettle Billy. It’s the strange lines on his face like he’s aged ten years since basketball practice. He doesn’t understand why Steve looks like he’s been through a war zone - or why he smells like absolute death. Billy can’t help but make a disgusted face at the stench of rot that clings to him as well as the slime - not mud - covering his clothes, and now Billy’s hands. Fucking gross.

“B-Billy?”

Familiar brown eyes blink open slowly and stare up at Billy dazedly, but before he can answer a sharp cry cracks through the air. An infant's cry. It’s so wrong and out of place that Billy jerks back like someone fired a gun. Steve reacts to the sound on instinct, pulling enough strength from somewhere to sit up and open the thick parka he wears and reveal the tiny bundle strapped tightly to his chest.

“Hey, hey, baby it’s alright. Daddy’s here.”

He makes these shushing sounds, rushed and insistent despite their softness, as he tries to sooth the baby. Tells the kid everything’s gonna be okay as he unwraps it, shaking hands feeling over its body for injuries. Billy just hopes it’s true. It’s so fucking small in Steve’s arms and Billy hit it with his car!

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Billy demands, swapping terror for beligerant rage because what the fuck is Harrington doing running across the road like that with a kid anyway. “I could have fucking killed you!”

The rant makes Steve look at him again, but it’s not with an expression that makes sense. For a moment he seems confused, like he didn’t understand the plain English coming out of Billy’s mouth. And then something like dread creeps over his face and he turns his head to look back at something in the darkness. 

“Billy.” Steve breathes his name like a prayer and it makes the cold hand of fear drag down his spine. Steve sounds downright terrified. Billy follows his gaze but beyond the glow of his headlamps all he can see is the dark silhouette of the iron gate that surrounds the old steel mill. 

“What? What’s the matter?”

Harrington doesn’t answer. Instead Billy suddenly finds an infant shoved into his arms and has to fumble not to drop the damn thing. It begins to wail again as it is handed over, but Steve doesn’t stop this time to try and soothe it. He wipes the water off the poor things face and presses one hard kiss to its forehead - daddy loves you - and then he’s pushing himself up onto his hands and knees and  stumbling to his feet.

“Wait a minute! Harrington what the hell?!” 

Billy clambors to his feet after him as quickly as he can manage without dropping the screaming baby in his arms, his heart sinking into his stomach because that sure seemed like a goodbye to him.

“I need you to take her.” Steve sways on his feet, weaving like a drunk and pauses to pant for breath before he looks back at Billy. “Get her out of here.”

“Fuck you! You’re not -”

Before Billy can finish, a strange animal scream rips through the air, chilling his blood. He can’t place it. Can’t say it’s a cat, or a fox, or a rabid fucking coon, cause he’s never heard anything like it before. It doesn’t sound right.

“Billy, listen to me.” Steve warns even as Billy demands to know what the hell that was. “Keep her safe. Okay? You have to get in the car and go. Right now!”

The thing is, Billy is inclined to agree. Whatever is out there in the dark making that awful sound is not something he wants to meet. But -

“What about you? Where the hell are you going? Steve!”

But Steve is staggering away from him, visibly powering through the pain as he runs into the darkness. Toward danger.  He shouts something over his shoulder that Billy isn’t sure he catches right. Something about coming back for the kid. 

And then he’s gone.