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starkstruck27 · 1 year ago

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TW: very brief mentions of suicide, and of course mentions of child abuse. Enjoy but please read with caution my friends.

Billy didn’t know if the urge to cry was coming from the fact that his dad had pulled him back in again, like a moth to a flame, or the fact that the man himself was lying in front of him dying.

Either way, the urge was there, and Billy took a little bit of satisfaction from the fact that he was able to take deep breaths to steady himself and his dad couldn’t. He was dying of lung cancer, and didn’t have long, maybe a month left, at most. Most of the doctors estimated that he’d be gone within a week or two, though, so Billy finally made himself build up the courage to book himself a flight from Ocean City to Indianapolis and actually get on the plane. It’d been 15 years, and it still didn’t feel like nearly enough time had passed since he last saw his father. The bruises that’d been throbbing that day in 1988 were long gone, but as Billy stepped into the hospital room, his footsteps keeping time with the heart monitor and breathing machine, he could still feel them all over his body.

“I’ll let you have some privacy,” the nurse who’d escorted him back told him, smiling nicely and shutting the door as she left. Billy didn’t even thank her, because he wasn’t sure if he should. Even with his father confined to a hospital bed and too weak to move even if he wanted to, he couldn’t help but feel a little unsafe in a room alone with him. Still, he twisted the ring on his left hand, took a few deep breaths like his therapist had taught him, and approached his father.

“Hey, dad,” he said, still fiddling with his ring. He remembered the inscription inside of it and the man who wore the matching one, and that helped him relax a little.

“Billy?” His dad wheezed, his voice only coming out on a whisper. It was another thing that Billy took satisfaction in, the fact that, no matter how hard he tried, his dad would never be able to yell at him anymore.

“Yeah, it’s me. Not used to seeing me without a red mark on my face, huh?” Billy said, a sharp edge to his voice. He knew the man was dying and he knew that the comment was backhanded, but he didn’t care. He didn’t owe his dad anything, and especially not respect. Still, it made the knife in his heart twist a little when a look of guilty recognition came over his father’s face.

“I know it doesn’t mean much now,” his dad said, “But I’m sorry for everything I ever did to you.”

Billy couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous that statement was.

“No you’re not,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “And anyway, it wouldn’t even matter if you were, because I didn’t come here for that. I didn’t come here to forgive you or for your half-assed apologies so you could die with a clean conscience. I came here for me, because I deserve to be able to live knowing that at least if my father died thinking I was a disappointment, he was going to have all the facts straight, so shut the fuck up and listen.”

Billy’s heart was racing as he stood up a little straighter, squaring his shoulders to give off the illusion of confidence even if he wasn’t entirely sure he was feeling it.

“First of all, I’ve been doing great for the past 15 years, so thanks for asking,” he said, flexing his fingers. “As soon as I got out of Hawkins, I went to college. I applied to UCLA, Penn State, West Virginia and the University of Phoenix. I ended up getting into all of them, so I went to UCLA and got a degree in Marine Biology. I graduated with a Masters degree at 26, and I started working on my doctorate a year or so ago. I got a great job with amazing colleagues, and I’m making more money in a month than you would make in a year.

“I got therapy as soon as I started making enough to afford it, and I’m not completely healed yet, no one ever is, but I’m a lot better off than I used to be. I was able to figure out why I was so angry all the time and why I couldn’t ever let anyone else in even if I wanted to, and eventually I learned how to stop being that way. Which, I’m glad I did, because if I hadn’t, I would’ve ruined one of the best things that ever happened to me before it even truly got started.

“When I left Hawkins, I didn’t leave alone. My best friend in the entire world came with me, because he also wanted to get out from under his father’s thumb. Steve and I moved to California and lived out of a motel for a few weeks until he could get a job and save enough for us to afford a place. I had just started college and things were rough at first, but I was able to start therapy when Steve and I started fighting more and more. I was so afraid he was going to leave me behind and go off on his own, but he saw that I was putting forth an effort, so he stuck by my side. And every day I’m more grateful that he did, because once I was able to see my therapist for about a year, I had improved enough to finally be honest with myself and with him, and I came clean when he took me out to celebrate one year of being on our own.

“He asked how therapy was going over dinner and I told him that I was doing good, and that I was finally gonna stop lying, and I told him that I was gay. And he just looked at me with these big soft eyes and a sympathetic little smile and told me that he was glad I told him, but he had already kind of figured that out. Then he told me that he didn’t care at all and that it didn’t change the way he viewed me at all, because he cared about me no matter what. And I knew he would probably react like that, because his best friend Robin is gay, and he’s known since the summer of ‘85, and they’re still practically attached at the hip to this day, but I was still worried. Then I told him that there was more, and I said that I had been falling in love with him from the first moment I met him, and it took me a while to be able to admit that to even myself, but now I had, and I wanted him to know, too.

“And when he told me he felt the same way, I nearly fell out of my chair. I could’ve sworn he was straight and I told him as much, but he just shrugged and said that he didn’t love me for what kind of body I had, he loved me for the person I was and was continuing to become. And I cried right there in front of the entire restaurant, because I never thought that anyone could love me just because I’m me.”

Billy paused and took a breath. He was still close to crying, and his voice was getting wavery and thick, but he cleared it and took a deep breath, getting ready to continue on. He looked at his father for a moment before he did, and was met with a face of stone. He had no expression on whatsoever, so Billy just let out the breath he was holding and kept going.

“It was another year and a half of just being together before he finally asked me to marry him. It was on Halloween, because that was the first time we met 6 years prior, at a stupid Halloween party my junior year. I remembered that party, because the first time I met him, he was with his girlfriend at the time, and this asshole we had both been friends with at one point wanted me to go over and brag to him about being the new keg king, but as soon as I saw his face, I stopped dead in my tracks and I could barely speak. It was kind of awkward, because I couldn’t think of anything to say to him and when I was silent for a few seconds, he ran off after his girlfriend who had slipped away and that was that. And then later that evening, his girlfriend broke up with him, and he was sulking outside, so I finally got up the nerve to go talk to him. It wasn’t right away, but we became friends, and we’ve stuck together ever since. He told me that that’s why he picked that night to propose to me, and before he could even finish asking the question, I was already crying and saying yes.

“I kissed him and he put the ring on my finger, but not before he showed me the inscription he had gotten on the inside of it. It said ‘Yeah I wanna marry you, don’t cream your pants’, because that’d been one of our inside jokes from the beginning, and he thought it would make me laugh. And it did, but not before I cried over it, because even though it was a stupid line, just the fact that he thought that much about it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me. We got married a few months later in a discreet little church somewhere in LA, and it was one of the best days of my life. My friends from college were there, Robin was Steve’s best man, and she’d even managed to get the word out to a few people back in Hawkins that we were getting married and surprised us by having them in the audience when we walked into the church.

“Remember that road trip Max went on with her best friend El in 1990? Well, that’s where she was, a little hole-in-the-wall church in Southern California, watching her former babysitter and her older brother tie the knot. When I saw her in the front row in her light blue pant-suit, her hair up in a perfect ballerina bun on her head and smiling like the sun, I burst into tears. She looked so grown up, and I couldn’t even believe she was there. We hadn’t done a huge reception afterwards, but we did have a little something, and Steve and I were only really going to do the couple’s dance at first because his mom wasn’t going to make it and I didn’t have anyone to dance with either, but we did end up doing them. He danced with Robin and I danced with Max, and then we danced together, and neither one of us could keep it together. I can still remember the way Steve bawled when Max and all her friends made him take a picture with them, because he hadn’t seen them in a few years and when they were all gathered around him, he said he felt like no time had passed, even though it clearly had. Then Max and El pulled me into the picture, and Steve kissed me, and the kids all made faces like they were grossed out about it. That picture is still framed in our living room.”

Billy could hear his own voice getting more squeaky and uneven as he began to cry, but he made himself hold it together. He had to get through this, because goddammit, after everything his father had put him through, he was going to know damn well that it didn’t defeat Billy. He was going to have to listen to every good thing that’d happened to him and he was going to have to face up to the fact that no matter how hard he’d tried, he couldn’t break Billy down, at least not permanently.

“We were married for two years before Steve started to bring up the topic of starting a family. I had just gotten my Bachelor’s degree and was getting ready to start my Masters, but we had decided to get a little drunk as a celebration and he asked me if I ever thought about maybe having kids. I knew he always wanted kids, but I wasn’t so sure. I told him I used to want kids more than anything when I was little and Mom was still around, but once she left, I wasn’t so sure, so we decided to table the discussion for now and talk again when we were sober. He brought it up again at dinner two nights later, and told me he’d always dreamed of having six kids, three girls, three boys, and that he still wanted that, but only if I did, too. And I could never say no to him, especially not when he was giving me that look, so I said that maybe we could just start with one and see how it went. He lit up like a firefly when I said that, and immediately started looking into the different options.

“It was hard, though. Most adoption agencies didn’t want to deal with us because we were both men, and finding a good surrogate took a lot of money that we just didn’t have at that point. It was killing me, both because Steve was so disappointed and because now that we’d finally talked and figured things out, I wanted a kid as much as he did. But then, just when all hope seemed lost, Robin paid us a visit and said that she might be able to help us. She was going to college at that point, too, and she knew a girl from one of her classes that was pregnant, but was thinking about terminating the pregnancy because she just didn’t want kids, she never had. She just wanted a career and to marry her boyfriend, and he felt the same, so she was weighing her options and thought aborting was the best way to go.

“But then Robin stepped in and asked if she would consider having the baby and putting it up for adoption, and the girl, her name was Lindsay, said that if she were sure her baby would go to a good home she might consider it, but the foster care and adoption systems weren’t great and she didn’t want her baby to go through that. Robin told her about us and how we wanted to start a family, and Lindsay and her boyfriend agreed to meet us and see what they thought. They ended up liking us, and Lindsay said that she’d help us out. Steve and I were both over the moon about it, and over the next few months, we did everything we could to get ready for it. And finally, on a warm April afternoon, I got out of class to find Steve waiting for me, telling me that Lindsay had checked into the hospital a half hour before and that she was waiting for us.

“It didn’t take too terribly long, only maybe five hours, but it felt like years had passed as we sat holding hands in the waiting room chairs. Neither of us moved from the moment they shooed us out of the delivery room until a nurse came out and told us that Lindsay was resting and our baby was being cleaned up and weighed. She told us on the way back to Lindsay’s room that the baby was perfectly healthy so far, and that they’d need to run some tests and give her her vaccines, but that she was okay so far. Steve was just relieved that she was okay, but then I turned to him and smiled and said, ‘did you hear what she said?’ And he didn’t get it at first, but then I said ‘she said she. We have a daughter,’ and Steve just stared at me. Then he started crying, and I had to hold him before we could go in and see Lindsay because he was crying so hard.

“When he finally calmed down, we went inside and Lindsay hugged us both and we shook hands with her boyfriend and we talked for a little until a nurse came in wheeling a little bassinette. She asked who wanted to hold her first and Lindsay looked at us, and I let Steve hold her first because he’d wanted this for a lot longer than I had. He held her and he looked at her and he kissed her head and I swear I’ve never before felt anything like I had in that moment, because a minute ago I was a new father, but it was like an abstract concept, and then when I looked at Steve holding our daughter, looking at her like she’d hung the sun, the moon and every one of the stars, it was like a switch was flipped, and suddenly I was willing to jump in front of a train or off a cliff or get eaten by a shark if it meant the two of them, but especially my little girl, would be safe and happy.

“And then, after a few minutes, Steve looked at me, and he asked if I wanted to hold her. And suddenly, I was stiff as a board and spacing out, because all that love and devotion I’d been feeling a second before were overshadowed and drowned out by this crippling, paralyzing fear. From what Steve’s told me, I went white as a sheet and started shaking like a leaf in the wind, and he said that all the life drained out of my eyes as I clenched my fists. He had to hand our baby to Lindsay for a minute, because he was worried about me, and he said he had to practically carry me to the little bathroom attached to the room so we could talk privately. He said in all that time, he didn’t even see me blink. I don’t remember much of this, I only remember him flicking water from the sink in my face to get me to come back to him, and he asked what’d happened.

“And then I remember I collapsed to the floor, and I didn’t cry, but I still shook like I’d gotten electrocuted. And when he sat down next to me and held my hand, I finally told him that it hadn’t quite felt real until that moment. But then he had tried to hand me the baby, and when I saw her tiny, fragile body and remembered that I was the one who was going to have to take care of her and keep her safe from then on, I just froze. I told him that I was afraid of her, which was stupid, right? Because she can’t do anything to me, she can barely even open her eyes yet, but yet she terrified me more than anything else in the world, because if she ends up fucked up, that’s our fault, and while I didn’t think Steve would be able to fuck her up, I definitely could. And he said that he didn’t believe that, and he said ‘you’re not going to turn out like your father’. And I swear to God, I almost socked him right in the face for that.

“But I didn’t, because somehow, without me saying a single word, he knew exactly why I was so fucking scared of someone who only weighed five and a half pounds. And once he said it, I was able to realize that that was what I was so scared of. I didn’t want to hold her because I was afraid I would get the urge to hit her for no reason. I was afraid I would start getting itchy because I couldn’t scream at her with other people in the room. I was afraid she would start to cry, and when I couldn’t get her under control, I’d just leave her for someone else to deal with, or even just to her own devices. I was afraid that if I would hold her and know that she’s mine, I would stop loving her and instead of seeing her as a blessing, I’d see her as a burden, and I wouldn’t want to take care of her. And I was horrified with myself for thinking that I would turn into you, but was even more horrified at the thought that I wouldn’t be able to control if I was or not. It scared me shitless that one day I might be sending my daughter to school with a black eye and fractured ribs because she forgot to put the dishes away before going to bed, or that she might not be able to take as much as I did and I might come home to find her limp body on the floor with a note telling me to go fuck myself, and I might not even care about it other than the fact that now I’d have to deal with what to do next.

“But for as scared as all those thoughts made me, I knew they were just that: intrusive thoughts. Because Steve had never lied to me once, never, in all the years I’d known him, and I knew that if he had a hunch about something, he was almost always right about it. And if he believed that I could be different, that I could be the dad I had always hoped for and wanted to be, then he was probably right about that, too. He told me that he knew from the look I got when I reiterated that we had a daughter out in the hall that I already loved her more than anything, and that I would never hurt her for anything in the whole wide world. Then he stood up, and he helped me up, too, and after helping me breathe more normally, he led me out of the bathroom.

“Lindsay smiled as we walked out and asked if everything was alright, and Steve told her it was just last minute anxiety, but that I was fine. And you know what, dad? I was. Because I knew that I was nothing like you, and that alone is what made me reach out and take our daughter from Lindsay’s arms, because I wanted to prove to myself that I was right.”

Billy was fully crying now, tears running down his cheeks in rivers, a constant flow that dripped from his chin and fell onto his jeans, his shoes, the floor. His nose was running a little bit and his throat was scratchy and his head was beginning to ache a little bit, but he didn’t care. He had come this far, and he was going to keep going until he’d said everything, aired every grievance he’d had to deal with and told him how he’d overcome them.

“Right after I picked her up, a nurse came in, holding a clipboard. She said that it was the birth certificate, and that everything was filled out except for our baby’s name. She looked at me, I guess because I was holding her, but I was too busy being happy that none of those terrible thoughts I’d had earlier were coming true and watching my daughter watch me to notice, so Steve said it. It’d taken us months to decide on what name we would go with depending on if it was a boy or a girl, but once we had them, we knew. I remember, in the early stages, when we would just toss names around, Steve had suggested something like ‘Lassie’ for a girl, and I almost smacked him upside the head. But then I was reading my textbook for class one night and saw one of the editor’s names, and I said to him, ‘what about Talia?’ And that was it. we decided that her middle name was going to be Ruth, after Steve’s grandmother, and it just had a nice ring to it.

“I remember when we got the official certificate a few days later, and I saw Talia Ruth Harrington written on paper for the first time. The way Steve tells it, I almost fainted, but I don’t remember that. All I remember is how the paper trembled, because when I held it, my hands were shaking. They did that every single time I held one of my kids’ birth certificates for the first time, and they’re going to do it again in a few months when our next baby is born. She’ll be number six, because Steve and I are both crazy, but me even more so, because I finally gave in and told him nothing would make me happier than to give him his dream family. And so far, I have.

“After Talia was born, I finished up my degree and started looking around for good jobs. I was open to anything, no matter where it was, and because our apartment was too small now that Talia was starting to grow more, we had to move anyway. We saved up as much as we could, and by the time Talia had turned one, we had a plan. I found a job at a small marine institute just outside of Ocean City, Maryland, and we decided to move there. We found a nice, three bedroom house about a ten minute walk from the beach for a reasonable price, and we bought it. We had only been moved in for about a month when Steve started teasing me about what we should do with the extra bedroom, and I knew what he was getting at, but I wanted to wait until we saved up a little bit more and until Talia was a little older. He agreed with me on that, and for another year, we did our best to raise our daughter and earn enough money to start thinking about another kid. Steve even got a job at a local daycare to help make ends meet and to make sure Talia was well cared for during the day while I was at work.

“And then, as luck would have it, just as we became financially stable and as Talia started to become more independent, we got our wish. Steve was opening up the daycare one day, and as he approached the door, he heard something from behind one of the fences. His coworker had just shown up, so he asked her to take Talia inside and he went to investigate, and the first thing he did when he found out what it was was open his cell phone and call me. He said he’d found a baby, no older than a month, wrapped in a blanket and just left there behind the fence with a note. It said ‘I can’t give my baby a good home, and I don’t know what to do. I figured someone here might. She’s healthy and has all her shots. Her birthday is August 5th, 1995.’ And that was it.

“Steve said that he was going to call the proper authorities, but he suggested that maybe we could take in the baby. He said we were thinking about it anyway and it couldn’t be a coincidence that another baby had just fallen into our laps like that, and I said that as long as it was a legal adoption, I’d be on board with it. It took a few months, a lot of money and entirely too much paperwork, but finally, we were given our second daughter. Because the mother had never named her, she had been dubbed Baby Doe by the court system up until that point, but once we were legally her parents, we got to name her. We went with Violet Frances Harrington, and then we were settled again for another few years.

“But Steve always wanted an even number of kids, and an even ratio of boys to girls, so once we got Violet settled and we were able to find a bigger house, we decided to go for baby number 3. It was 1997 at this point, and even though we were thinking about selling the old house before we had more kids, once again, fate stepped in. We hadn’t found a new place just yet, and we were toying around with the idea of either converting the attic or basement to a room or splitting the bigger of the girl’s bedrooms in half to make another when the adoption agency we went through called us. They said that they might have something for us, and asked if we wanted to come down and speak with them in person. We said we would, and the next day, we were sitting in an office when the lady who called us walked in and handed us two pictures.

“She said that a few days ago, a mother came in and gave her two sons up for adoption. She was young, probably in college or even high school, but she said she just wasn’t ready to be a mother and she wanted her babies to have a good home. The lady said that she’d called the list of potential parents, but none of them really wanted twins, so she eventually got to us. She said we could take some time to talk about it if we wanted, and then she left the room, and as soon as she did, I looked at Steve.

“I could tell from the smile on his face that he was already sold, and he told me that we should totally do it, because then it would even things up and we wouldn’t even need to get a new place or renovate ours, because then the girls could room together and the boys could take the other room. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was already in love with the boys, and I was too, so instead of answering him, I just went to the door and told the lady we’d be happy to take them in. She smiled and helped us fill out the necessary paperwork, and even though the boys already had names, she said we could change them if we wanted. We’d already had our hearts set on either Nathan or Gavin for our first boy, so we made those their first names, but we hadn’t decided on middle names yet, so we just gave them the names their mother had. And just like that, Nathan Jay Harrington and Gavin Anthony Harrington were joining our not-so-little-anymore family.

“After that, we were content for a while. I started thinking about getting my doctorate, Steve had moved up the ranks until he was practically running the daycare, and our kids continued to grow faster than we could keep up with. Before we knew it, Talia was starting school, Violet was learning to ride a bike, and the boys were curious about any and everything under the sun. Our house began to feel a little small, though, so we started looking around for a bigger place. We finally found one, a seaside mansion that was almost too much, but we made it work. I remember we told the kids Santa might not bring as many presents that year because he couldn’t make them fast enough. Really, Steve and I just couldn’t afford as many presents as we usually got them, but come Christmas morning, we had found a way to spoil them even though we barely had a dollar to our names. Anyway, the house was huge, and even though it only had four real bedrooms, the twins still wanted to share and there were a few extra rooms in the basement and main floor, so we figured if we had any more kids or the twins decided they wanted to separate, we could just use one of them.

“And after we’d been in the house for about a year, Steve started getting baby fever again. This was the first time we’d ever tried looking into the foster care system instead of adoption agencies or surrogates. We were just looking around at that point, not really deciding anything, Steve was just antsy and looking for the hell of it, but then he asked me one night as we were going to bed if I would want to foster this little boy he’d found when he was just looking around for fun. He said that he was about a year old, could already walk, and was able to say simple words. He knew I was a little baby-d out at that point, so he said this time we wouldn’t have to start from scratch, we would just be picking up at an easier point. The twins were 4 by then, Violet was 6 and Talia was 8, so he said they could all start helping out around the house a little more and they would be able to help with the boy if we needed them to. And because I can’t say no to him and he did make a good point, I said I’d think about it. He obviously knew I meant yes, so a couple weeks later, we brought him home. We had only had him for about two days when Steve and the kids all practically begged me to adopt him.

“He already had a name, which was fine by us, because we didn’t really have anything in mind when Steve had started looking around, but I still got that same shaky, fluttery feeling when I first saw Leo Matthew Harrington printed on the birth certificate in my hands. All the kids had been with us that day when we went to the courthouse, and as soon as we showed them the piece of paper and told them that it meant Leo was officially their brother, they all started cheering at the top of their lungs. We got a dirty look from the receptionist, but Steve and I couldn’t help but laugh. Even Leo started squealing and shrieking with joy, and since it was a sunny Saturday in May, we took the kids to the boardwalk to get ice cream.”

Billy was still crying, but now he wiped his eyes and walked around the side of the bed, and sat in the chair at his father’s bedside after taking out his wallet. He opened it and thumbed through it, eventually finding what he was looking for and holding it up in front of his father’s face. It was a picture, taken just a few months ago, on the beach right outside their house. He couldn’t remember who had taken it, probably some couple or kid walking by, but he remembered how happy he was in that moment.

“This is my family,” he said, the tears coming back with twice as much force and his voice beginning to wobble even more. “The man sitting next to me is my husband. The little girl behind us with the black hair and beige colored skin and almond eyes is Talia. The little black girl sitting next to me with the heart shaped sunglasses is Violet. They’re my daughters.” He paused again, wiping his nose as his voice broke and he took a breath to steady himself. “The little boy next to Steve with the blue glasses and red hair is Leo, and the two blond boys on our laps are the twins. Nathan is on my lap and Gavin is on Steve’s, and I can tell them apart because Gavin only smiles with his teeth and Nathan only smiles with his lips. They’re my sons.”

His father lifted a shaky hand to try and take the picture, but Billy held it out of his reach. It was too precious to him to even think about letting his dad hold it, especially since he couldn’t really respond this whole time and he didn’t know if he would, like, rip it up or something. He didn’t want to risk it. It was too important to him.

“In a few weeks, I’m going to get to hold my third baby girl. Her name is going to be Samantha Christie Harrington. From what we can guess, we assume she’s going to have pale skin and brown hair. We don’t know if her eyes are going to be blue or brown, or even hazel. We don’t know if she’s going to be born healthy, although we’re praying that she will, and we don’t know when her birthday is going to be or at what time she’ll be born. But we do know that the girls are ecstatic about getting a little sister, and the boys are excited for Aunt Max and Uncle Lucas to stay over with them while we’re at the hospital. We know that no matter what this child looks, acts, or is like, we’re going to love her just as much as we love all the rest of them. And we know that we’re ready and able to do that, because we’ve already done it five times before, no matter how scared we were or how tired or how uncertain we were.”

“Billy, I-” his father tried to get a word in, but Billy wasn’t having it.

“No, you shut the fuck up, I’m not finished!” He bordered on yelling, but he made himself regain control. He slipped the picture back into his wallet and put it back into his pocket, just trying to busy himself until he could be sure he wasn’t going to lash out again. His father was silent the entire time.

“Listen, dad, I didn’t come here to yell. I didn’t come here to get angry or to get an apology or even an explanation, I’m past all that shit. I came here because I heard you were dying, and despite how much shit you put me through, I couldn’t make myself hate you enough to just ignore that. I also can’t make myself love you enough not to come and forgive you and let you meet your grandchildren and your son-in-law. And as much as it kills me, I can’t make myself stop loving you no matter how hard I try, and I fucking try. But you were the only one who stayed. When Mom split, when Grandma died, when Uncle Jerry went to prison. You could’ve tossed me out like yesterday’s garbage since there was no one else around to give a damn, but you stayed. You put food in my stomach and you kept clothes on my back and, I don’t know, maybe deep down inside you, you really were just trying to make me become a better person, and I can’t hate you for that. But somewhere along the way, your wires got crossed, and you took it too far. You had this... this rage inside you and for some reason, you thought the best person to take it out on was your pre-teen son. And then I guess something broke inside you, because it seemed like you started to actively look for things to justify one more punch, one more insult, one more punishment. First it was because I wasn’t into sports like you were and I couldn’t hit a baseball to save my life. Then it was because I was queer, and having a faggot for a son wasn’t “right”. Then it was because of the music I liked, or the jewelry, or the people I hung out with or the grades I had. Nothing was ever good enough for you, I was never good enough for you.”

Billy paused again. He needed to wrap this up. He hadn’t even packed an overnight bag, just a few things to keep him occupied on the plane rides there and back. So he sucked in another breath and he sat up straight, and for the first time since he’d gotten the phone call that his dad was dying, he felt the weight lifting off of his chest.

“But I don’t need to be good enough for you anymore, and I know that now. It took a long time and a lot of therapy, but I know it. Now I know that I’m good enough to be another person’s entire world, so much so that they put a ring on my finger to make sure I’d be with them until we’re old and gray. We have bad days, we’re not perfect, we fight, but at the end of the day I’m good enough to man up and tell him I’m sorry and I want to make things right because I love him. I’m good enough to sit on the boardwalk with my Violet and throw bread at seagulls, and I’m good enough to walk around looking for seashells with my Talia while she tells me about the really cute boy that smiled at her in class. I’m good enough to play dinosaurs with Nathan with one hand and color with Gavin in one of his coloring books with the other, and I’m good enough to sing Leo to sleep when nothing else will even make him doze. I’m good enough to make amends with the people I’ve hurt because I actually want to, and not just because I’m on my deathbed and I want a better chance at getting into Heaven. And I’m good enough to hold my Samantha for the first time and tell her how much I love her and mean it. And I did all that by myself, because I wanted to prove that I was better than you, and that I would always be better than you, because you made my life hell and I’m still dealing with the aftermath. Every day it’s a struggle, but I know that I’m going to come out on top, because the hard part is over. I’m already out of your clutches. And I’m not going to take that or anything that’s resulted from me getting away for granted, because it’s too important to me.”

Billy stood up, wiped away the last of his tears with his jacket, and cleared his throat again as he headed for the door. He opened it and was planning on just walking right out and not stopping until he was in a car and headed for the airport, but something made him stop. He stared out into the blinding white hallway of the hospital for a second, and finally turned one more time to face the man on the bed. He didn’t owe him anything. But he had already bared his heart and soul to him, what was two more words?

“Goodbye, Neil,” he said.

And with that, he was gone.

*************************************************************

Billy had gotten home the same night he left, albeit very late at night. He was more tired than he had ever been before, and he wanted nothing more than a nice hot shower and to curl up beside Steve in bed. But after the day he’d had, he couldn’t just do that. Something was still tugging in his guts, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the way he’d left things with Neil or if it was because he hadn’t eaten anything that day except for the little snack packets the flight attendants had given him and a snickers bar from the hospital vending machine that was probably as old as some of the patients. Either way, he was too tired to deal with it, so he just went inside, got his hot shower, and put on his pajamas before crawling under the covers with Steve. He was lying on his side with his back to Billy, so he shifted until their bodies were perfectly in line and he wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling his face into Steve’s neck. He only sat up a little bit when he felt a smaller body on the other side of Steve, only to find Leo curled up against Steve’s chest.

“You gotta make me a recording of you singing for the next time you’re out of town,” Steve mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “This was the only way I could get him to even close his eyes.”

Billy’s heart melted in his chest as he said it, and it only turned further into goop when Steve turned his head and craned his neck to give him a kiss before snuggling back into the covers. And as Billy settled in with him, his arms around both his husband and his son, the tugging feeling in his gut finally stopped.

*************************************************************

Three days later, he got the phone call from the hospital that Neil was dead.

It’d been a busy Thursday morning in July, and while he and Steve were running around trying to get the kids up, dressed, fed and out the door for daycare, the phone rang. Billy was using one hand to wipe the maple syrup from Gavin’s face the the other to help Violet with her hair, and he couldn’t tell you what Steve was doing for a million dollars, so he didn’t even know the phone had been ringing until Talia walked over and handed it to him.

“It’s for you, daddy,” she said, then walked away to do whatever she’d been doing before. Billy had finally gotten the syrup of Gavin’s face and Violet was satisfied with her hair, so Billy stood up and took the cordless phone into a different room so he could hear better.

It was the nurses at the hospital. They said that they were sorry for his loss and that Neil had passed away that morning. They told him that he was the only one Neil had listed as next of kin, and that they would hold the body until arrangements could be made for his funeral. Then they offered their condolences and told him that he could call back at the number they gave whenever the arrangements had been made. Billy had gone on auto-pilot when he thanked them, and when he hung up, his chest felt hollow. He wasn’t happy or sad or angry or even relieved, no, he just felt numb.

He didn’t want to make the damn funeral arrangements. He didn’t want to have to explain to his kids that the man who’s body they were seeing being lowered into the ground was their grandfather, but they never met him because he hurt their daddy and would’ve probably hurt them, too if he’d ever been given the chance. He didn’t want his father to be dead, but he didn’t know if he was upset about it either. He was too confused and he didn’t know what to feel, but he still felt like he was about to burst with something, so he did the only thing he could think to do.

He took the handheld phone and hurled it at the wall as he let out a deep, animalistic howl of a yell, and crumbled to the floor with his head down and his shoulders hunched to try and keep it all under control. His ears were ringing, so he didn’t hear the six sets of footsteps running towards him from the kitchen until he felt one pair of arms wrap around him gently.

“Hey, Billy, what’s wrong? What happened?” Steve asked, tapping a beat on Billy’s shoulder to help him regulate his breathing, a trick he’d learned years ago and still remembered even though he rarely had to use it anymore.

“That was the hospital,” he said, choking out the words. “He’s dead, Stevie.”

“Who’s dead?” Nathan asked, his blue eyes big and round with questioning.

“Just... somebody that daddy used to know,” Steve said, hoping that that was the right answer. Billy would’ve told him if it wasn’t, but he didn’t say anything now, and neither Nathan nor any of their other kids questioned any further. Instead, they gathered around their father, all piling on top of him to give him kisses and hugs and tell him they loved him. Billy felt like a volcano, but only after the eruption, like his little outburst had been the hard part and now, with the help of his family, the magma was settling and the lava was cooling down into solid rock. He wrapped his arms around all of his kids in the most awkward group hug in the history of group hugs, but not one of them cared. It helped Billy to calm down, and that’s what was important.

*************************************************************

A week after the call from the hospital, the phone rang again, and again, Talia was the one to answer. The handheld had been pieced back together with Steve’s nimble hands and half a roll of masking tape, but it would do for now. Billy still felt bad for breaking the phone, but he’d stopped apologizing for it when Steve told him that if he did it again, he’d break it worse so that he would stop. It was a joke, obviously, but it worked, and Billy had stopped apologizing for it.

They hadn’t had a funeral. Not a real one, at least. Steve had taken the kids again and Billy headed out to Indianapolis again, having to stay overnight this time, but he didn’t care. He hadn’t felt much of anything since the call, and was kind of distant for a few days, but he hoped that once his dad’s body was in the ground and he was back home, he would be okay. He just needed time to process.

Steve and the kids were giving him all the time he needed, the kids making sure they were on their best behavior and Steve doing anything he could to make sure Billy was alright. He’d talked to his therapist and was able to work through it a little bit, but the things Steve and the kids were doing were helping, and he was grateful for it.

He’d only stayed in Indianapolis for two days, one to pick out the casket and set things into motion, and the other to make sure they actually got him in the ground. He didn’t even wait for the headstone to be carved, instead just told them to make sure he got one and that would be that before heading for home once again. Steve and the kids had all run up to him to hug him as soon as he stepped in the door, and, per his request, they all sat on the beach that night and fed the seagulls as they watched the sunset. None of them spoke much, they just sat, but they were all perfectly okay with that. And the next day, Billy started to act like himself again, a little at a time.

Now, he was almost completely back to normal. His head still felt a little heavy, but it was mostly gone, and he didn’t even think twice when Talia handed him the phone and said, “It’s for you, daddy.”

It was the hospital again, but this time, it was much closer to home. Georgia, the lady who was carrying their baby, had just gone into labor and had checked into the hospital. Billy nearly threw the phone again in his rush to get to Steve and tell him the news.

Samantha had decided that she was going to come out a week early, so Billy and Steve had to wrangle five children into their mini-van by themselves as Billy called Max. She and Lucas lived in Pennsylvania, so they were going to be a little while, but Max said she was already leaving work and that they’d be there as soon as they could to get the kids. Billy thanked her and told her which hospital they were going to, then hung up as Steve drove through the town.

When they got there, Steve went to check on Georgia, and Billy stayed in the waiting room with the kids. It was just beginning to get dark out, Leo should’ve already been in bed, but Billy was too jittery to worry about that now. An hour and a half later, Max and Lucas showed up, both hugging him and Steve and saying congratulations before swapping keys with Steve and taking the kids back to the van to head back home. Steve walked them to the elevator and then returned to Billy’s side, holding his hand like he always did and pretending he wasn’t just as nervous until a few hours later, when the nurse finally came out and told them to follow her.

Georgia was asleep by the time they got into the room, but her husband was awake, still holding her hand. He used his other one to shake with Billy and Steve and congratulate them, and finally, the nurse came in with Samantha.

At this point, it was tradition to let Steve hold her first. She was asleep, or at least she looked it, as Steve picked her up, but as soon as he put his hand underneath her head, her eyes opened up and she began to cry. Steve tried to soothe her, but nothing seemed to work, and her little face got red as she continued to scream. It woke Georgia up and she tried to calm her down, but even she couldn’t do anything to quiet the baby.

But this girl had a set of pipes on her, and finally, she had screamed so loud and so long that it was almost excruciating to listen to. Steve took her back from Georgia and tried again, but it was useless, and he sighed.

“Here, Bill, you try and calm her down. Nothing we’re doing seems to be working,” he said, and handed Samantha off to Billy.

As soon as he had her tiny body cradled in his arms, the baby stopped crying. It was almost instantaneous, and even though her face was still a little red and blotchy, she blinked her big eyes up at him and smiled.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Steve smiled, wrapping his arm around Billy’s waist. “Glad to know she’s already chosen her favorite parent.”

Billy wanted to laugh at that, but he couldn’t think about much of anything else at the moment except his daughter’s big, dark eyes boring into his. He smiled at her and rubbed her belly with his finger, making her gurgle and coo in response. She took her own tiny hand and raised it just enough to grab onto Billy’s finger, holding it with an iron grip. Or, at least the newborn equivalent of an iron grip.

She continued to stare into his eyes and hold onto him for a long time, but after a while, her grip weakened and her eyes slipped closed. As she fell asleep in Billy’s arms, Steve came back over from making small talk with Georgia and her husband. Georgia was exhausted, and frankly, so was her husband, and they had begun to fall asleep again as well, leaving Billy and Steve as the only ones awake. Billy was still just staring at Samantha, though, and only noticed Steve by his side when he nudged him lightly with his shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, wrapping his arm around him and playing with the hair on the back of his neck. “You doing okay?”

And when Billy thought about it, he found that he really, really was.

“Yeah,” he replied, “I’ve never been more okay in my entire life.”

#my boys deserve a good happy life with minimal angst #and that's exactly what they're gonna get #and they deserve closure #so they're gonna get that too #and neil hargrove can suck an egg #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #parentgrove

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starry-bi-sky · 8 months ago

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i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.

He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.

And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.

And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.

Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.

Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."

There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.

It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.

Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.

At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.

"Do you like to do anything?"

Nothing. Just silence.

Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.

Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.

Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.

And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.

He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.

Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.

So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.

"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"

"Don't."

He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.

Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"

"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."

It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"

The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."

Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."

And they fall back into silence.

Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."

He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.

(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)

At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.

Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.

("Tucker told me once--") ("Tucker?") ("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")

(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)

(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)

It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."

The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."

The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.

When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.

Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.

"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."

When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.

Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.