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wheeler-things · 2 years ago

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Mike Wheeler as a DM, and What D&D Says About Him As a Tactician and Broader Character

Okay, I need to talk about Mike Wheeler as the Party’s de facto DM because I have some thoughts.

So.

First of all, I want to point out that acting as the DM puts him in a really interesting position given that he’s also the leader of the group. Yes, the Party is a democracy, but when it really comes down to it, Mike’s word is law (which is partly why Max and Mike should be shown as friends in their own right, because Max will challenge Mike to his face without it having to be a Big Thing unless Mike makes it one/on the small stuff the others would just let go by to keep the peace, and vice versa Mike has no fear of sticking up to Max/fighting back against her, and both of them benefit from that).

We see this in s2, where on Halloween Dustin and Lucas both want Max to come, and they ask Will if he’s okay with it, and he says that he is, so Max comes along— but they don’t ask or even inform Mike. Even though they have the majority. When asked, Will says that he assumed Mike would be okay with it. Which either implies he knew Dustin and Lucas weren’t going to tell Mike and didn’t say anything himself because he thought he knew what Mike would say anyway/at least knew how Mike would feel after finding out (at least pre-s1 Mike), which then suggests that this was a plan to circumnavigate Mike specifically. Or it means that he believed Mike would be asked and would respond positively, which suggests that Mike usually gets the final say/gets asked and it’s unusual for Dustin and Lucas to go behind Mike’s back, still suggesting that Mike has the final say because Lucas and Dustin DIDN’T do that this time when they wanted it their way— and I really wish I knew which it is. But either way, the fact remains that if the Party is a democracy, and Mike is not the one calling the shots, then there was no reason not to go to Mike and let him have a vote in Max coming— with Will in agreement, the democracy has spoken. But we see later in s2 that actually, when Max wants to participate and Dustin and Lucas want her to participate, and Will is functionally abstaining from voting… Mike’s firm refusal (which, to be fair, in that moment is pretty reasonable since Mike knows involving Max would mean telling her about the UD at that point) translates into Dustin and Lucas meekly apologizing to Max, and the only reason Lucas decides to include Max later is because it comes down to following what Mike (and at that point the government) wants or losing any potential at being friends with Max. Because his relationship with Mike will survive, while his relationship with Max will not.

Also, I think is really interesting because the previous season he was the one claiming that Mike was going against the Party’s needs for some girl he just met (erroneously, we know as an audience— like, regardless of whether you believe Mike ever had feelings for El, Lucas’ belief that s1 Mike lost focus on Will/finding Will because he was mooning after El was wrong), in s2 it’s Lucas doing just that (and I’m NOT saying Lucas was necessarily wrong— I think he was in a complicated situation, and I don’t think there was a right answer, because there’s really no way to know whether Max would have been safer from the UD or not, had Lucas never told her). And then in s3, the “Mike mirrors Lucas” season (again, inarguably true that he’s doing that, whether you think he’s legitimately interested in being with El or not), he… finally puts El ahead of the Party in his order of importance until Will calls him out for it (it remains interesting to me that s1 Mike and Lucas basically have the same fight as s3 Mike and Will except that s3 Will is correct and also… the framing is so wildly different. But sure, I’m supposed to believe these are fights between Mike and two of his best friends who he feels equally platonically about). And this puts a lot of context onto why in s4, he seems to believe that Will having a girl he’s interested in means the end of their friendship (again, whether you read him as romantically jealous or not… all of this together IMPLIES that Will, in Mike’s mind, won’t care as much about Mike as soon as he gets a girlfriend, and he’s upset about it).

REGARDLESS of that tangent, my point is, Mike’s the leader. The Party’s a democracy when things are minor, but when the chips are down, Mike has final say, and we’ve seen this in practice all s1 and s2.

Which makes his role as the DM super fascinating, because the DM is not the leader in dnd. Obviously, they know where the story is going, but barring some very specific situations, any “leading” any DM does is in the form of character control— basically, either setting up situations where PCs choose to do what the DM wants them to in an organic way (a hard skill to master), or being skilled enough to work with a player’s choices to help direct them to the right place anyway, while respecting the player’s autonomy/character choices (which requires a deft touch so as not to make the players feel railroaded). Often, both of these require some level of cooperation on the players’ parts (ie. if your DM throws a plot hook your way, it’s usually polite to try and figure out a reason why your character would get involved with the plot hook/to have built a character who would get involved in plot hooks pretty reliably), but a DM leading the PCs would be bad at almost every table (though Mike also has a PC and I’m fascinated to know what the Party does with Mike’s Paladin when Mike’s DMing, so that he stays close enough to the Party’s collective levels in order that he doesn’t get totally bodied by enemies the others are strong enough to have a balanced fight against, the odd time when he’s a player and not a DM— I’m curious because there are totally multiple ways to do it).

And we know that Mike’s leadership carries over to the dnd table, because in s4, when Dustin is deciding whether to take the risk and go in to kill Vecna with Erica, he specifically turns to Mike and asks his opinion. I’ve talked before about how this illustrates the respect Dustin has for Mike as a tactician (which totally makes sense— Mike has similar respect for Dustin’s scientific findings/ideas which is why they work so well together), but I think it’s important to note that up until Dustin asks Mike’s opinions, everyone (sans Erica and Mike— yes, I do think it’s a really fun little detail in this scene that everyone was chanting “the the death”, but only the three who have ACTUALLY been involved in life or death battles/situations took the phrase literally) is arguing back, saying that it’s too much of a risk. But as soon as Dustin asks Mike’s opinion, and Mike deliberates then gives it, there are no more arguments from anyone. Even though all Mike really said was (paraphrased because I don’t remember the exact quote) “it’s risky as hell, you [and Erica] are the ones on the field/currently still active, so you guys have to make the call”. The implication of that being respected by the whole club (even those who haven’t faced death beside Mike), even though it’s not a new plan and doesn’t offer any new insight, is that the whole Hellfire Club respects Mike as a tactician enough to believe that if he thinks Erica and Dustin can do it, then it’s worth a try/there’s no further argument to be had.

Which! Says some insane things about Mike’s skills!! We talk all the time about how often Mike is right about his plans/leaps in logic about the supernatural stuff on the show, and there are a lot of reasons why that could be, but I think it’s important to note that he’s heavily implied to just be good at this stuff. Like. Will’s an artistic genius, Dustin’s a scientific genius, Robin describes her ears as “little geniuses” and backs it up so we can assume that she’s incredibly skilled as a musician, Nancy’s a savant with a gun in addition to being a genius researcher (“her shot in the dark was a bullseye”)— I could go on but my point is, all the kids/older teens have something that they’re really good at, where they excel, where they are a genius. And for Mike, that’s pretty clearly his ability as a tactician.

Which is an incredibly useful skill as a dnd player!! And it’s clear it’s something the Party is used to relying on irl! They generally listen to Mike when shit hits the fan and, more than that, we even see a hint of this in the first dnd game in s1e1. Mike’s introducing the Demogorgon, and Will asks “what is it”, looking straight at Mike, like he expects Mike to answer. Obviously as the DM Mike just smiles and looks away while the rest of the Party bickers, but the fact remains that it was Will’s first reaction, while caught up in the moment, to turn to Mike and ask his opinion… it says something about how the Party (and Will in particular) views Mike.

And frankly, we can see why in that session. Will’s tendency to freeze when under pressure is clear in that moment, and all Lucas and Dustin can do is bicker. Mike actually has to use some of his character control skills in having the Demogorgon move towards them (even though teeeechnically it’s Will’s turn and the Demogorgon shouldn’t be able to move in that turn, but I can let it slide because of what it tells us about Mike and because it could well be a house rule that if the Party is devolving into bickering, Mike can put the pressure on) in order to lead them into making a choice (Will picked Fireball when backed into a corner where he couldn’t just freeze, but Mike’s the one who technically broke the rules to put him in that corner in the first place and I’m choosing not to think of the implications of that because this is not a Mike and the Upside Down post, this is a Mike’s character post and I’m going to shove that thought aside and move on).

So, the fact that the Party allows Mike to DM most of the time implies a few things:

1) Probably nobody in the Party likes DMing all that much, or at the very least, Mike likes it enough to insist that he wants to do it. That’s actually pretty common. There’s a joke that if you DM once for your friends, you’ll be a DM for life for a reason. That’s because DMing is hard work, time consuming outside of sessions, and requires a lot of skills which are distinct from those required of regular players. It’s fun if you like it, but it’s not for everyone. However, Mike clearly enjoys DMing (we can see that in how he acts as a DM), and we can also assume that nobody else at the table LOVES doing it, because it would be very easy to set up a system where the Party members take turns DMing. This is what a lot of irl tables do. And it’s obvious that would be possible to figure out even with their extended campaign style of play, because Will seems to fill the role seamlessly in s3. And we see in s4 that Mike can and does also enjoy playing as a player, so it’s unlikely he would throw a fit if someone else wanted to DM. But this also implies…

2) Mike is a good enough DM that the Party likes his campaigns. Not just in concept (though that’s important, given that he seems to be plotting his own campaigns rather than using official/pre-made ones), but in execution as well. If they didn’t, either the Party wouldn’t have gotten into dnd as heavily as they did, or someone else would have stepped up to take over DMing at least on a rotating basis. Lucas and Dustin are unknowns, but Will, at the very least, is shown to be at least a competent DM and he seems to enjoy doing it (at least well enough to put energy into it/be willing to do it when Mike seems disinterested).

3) Mike is a good enough DM that the Party is willing to give up his skills as a tactician on their side in order to play his games regularly. Which. This is massive, because we know from everything I’ve outlined so far that he’s a good tactician.

But one other small moment that I think highlights this is the one time we see him acting as a player in s3. Firstly, he starts out acting disinterested (which we know is because of s3 Mike brain and not because he doesn’t like being a player, because he’s totally invested in Eddie’s campaign and lbr that point of that scene was “Mike’s acting weird and it’s hurting Will” not “Will’s not a very engaging DM”), and while he’s doing that, he asks Lucas what he should do. This is fun, because it parallels s1e1 Will asking the Party what he should do, except when Will asks it’s because he’s so invested in the game that he’s frozen (while Lucas has chosen the fight option and Dustin has functionally chosen the flight option— YES I think it’s significant that Dustin learns to fight instead of flee irl and then shows that growth in the final dnd battle of s1, and continues to do so in s4, yes I think this really impacts why Dustin is the Party member who has that final Moment with Eddie about choosing not to run away “this time”, yes it does add to why I’m scared for Dustin— also, YES I do think that it’s interesting that as of s1e1, Lucas fights, Will freezes, Dustin flights, and Mike… well, he certainly has a backbone/a temper, but his biggest fear is about losing people/people not wanting him anymore, and when he’s faced with that what does he do? Fawn. Yes, I do think it’s interesting that all four boys pretty clearly match to all four responses in a show about trauma, and yes I do think it’s interesting that Will’s learned how to fight at least a little bit more, Dustin’s learned to fight more, Mike clearly STARTED the show having learned to fight first— in the moments with emotional stakes which matter most to him— then fall back on fawning only after, and Lucas has grown from s1 to the point where he very rarely allows himself to have emotional/interpersonal fights anymore).

Lucas notably gives a very limp suggestion (to attack). Which Mike does, in a very straightforward and uninspired way. But as soon as Mike is motivated to end the game, he shows his hand a little too much (in a very subtle way). He instantly has a plan of action (meaning that he’s been thinking enough about the session that he knows what to do, despite his pretence of being so out of it that he’s asking stupid questions), and one that he’s SO confident will work that he feels comfortable saying that all the jujus will be killed without even trying to roll for it (despite the fact that they’re resistant to fire damage, meaning he knows where they all are on the field, and likely remembers off the top of his head— or Will supplied the info but that’s less likely— what a juju’s HP and AC are) AND that he and Lucas will also be killed. YES, I acknowledge this could also just be Mike being flippant instead of having it all thought out, and that’s definitely how he plays it, but there are easier ways, one of which I point out later in this commentary, for him to be flippant while foreshadowing the end of the season AND not killing off his and Lucas’ characters.

Which? Is fascinating? Because I highly doubt they rolled new characters for this campaign, so EITHER they have some weird house rule about deaths in one shot games/games Mike doesn’t DM not “counting”, OR, more likely, he has their HP counted out and knows how much damage the fire will do in the environment they’re in (again, irl he would most likely skip this step and just say they die forever to be flippant to Will, but this is a show and that was not necessary for foreshadowing OR for Will to get upset enough to leave, unless it implies something more significant than just Mike being uninterested in the campaign at hand— which is only true if the damage from that attack WOULD actually permakill Mike and Lucas’ characters rather than 0 them out, because you can’t come back from permadeath under most circumstances but a 0 out or dropped game can easily be overwritten if/when you play again), and he’s fully trying to kill his character and Lucas’— and Lucas agrees??!?— which REALLY explains why this is what drives Will over the edge, because it’s not just Mike saying “I don’t want to play right now”, it’s Mike saying “I never want to play again (at least not in this extended patchwork campaign we’ve been running for years, which has been a particular labour of creative love for you and I, Will, as I’ve spent hours writing for it and you’ve spent hours drawing for it)” and Lucas agreeing. Hence, this is why Lucas makes time to apologize when they have “bigger things” going on (it’s not JUST about that session, even in Lucas’ actions), and hence why Mike implicitly saying that he does want to play again, and that he does want to play again with Will IS actually an apology for what he did wrong that led to their bigger argument (though obv it doesn’t address the comment he made about Will not liking girls, and I highly suspect Mike won’t get to apologize for that until he finds out Will actually doesn’t like girls, because there’s no way Mike CAN apologize for that, with the information he currently has, without either only halfway apologizing, which would be narratively frustrating, or unintentionally hurting Will more, which would be narratively pointless— plus it adds to the drama of Will finally coming out to Mike if Mike gets to have a moment of horror over “oh GOD you’re— and I said— *oh*, oh no”). I just… the context of this fight is really interesting to me.

But the implication behind the context (assuming that it’s meant to imply something about Mike’s play style and isn’t just him saying Literally Anything to get out of the game— which I assume it is because “uh… we decide the challenge is too great and flee to regain our strength/get reinforcements” is totally an option Mike could have taken instead, and would also have foreshadowed the end of s3 with El losing her powers and having to “flee” to Cali while waiting to get her powers back— with less permanent consequences/a lower chance of hurting Will as deeply as what Mike actually did does) is that Mike was paying enough attention to the session/environmental details to know exactly how to end things the whole time, because he can pull it out the instant he really wants to. He simply didn’t, because, for all that he was complaining, he was willing to keep playing the game. This may honestly be why Will (who knows Mike well enough to know how skilled he is) seems totally willing to keep playing/keep being in character even while Mike is being performatively bored/to not be taking it seriously. Because the unspoken truth is, Mike proves to the audience that he can end the game any time he wants, if he’s willing to make ruthless sacrifices in order to do it. So if Mike is still playing before that moment, it means he’s still interested/still willing to humour Will, no matter how he’s acting outwardly.

ALL of which is to say… firstly, if Mike can just decide to end a session/campaign that confidently at the drop of a hat, when he’s at least pretending to be disengaged, he would be an INVALUABLE player as part of a team, because he could absolutely figure out a way to do that same action, or something like it, without resulting in his and Lucas’ characters’ deaths (people do crazier things in dnd all the time and their characters survive because Antics with feats, abilities, and magical items are essentially what the game is about). Secondly… the honest answer for why Mike DMs? Might legitimately be because it’s hard to DM for him when he’s on his game. He’s clearly done something to make Hellfire respect him in s4 (and he zeros out FAST which… paladins are tanks, especially when they get up around lvl 16 (iirc?), assuming Lady Applejack is representative of the group level— so while it’s not impossible that he might have just taken enough hits that beat his AC to run out his HP, it’s also possible that Eddie might have angled for taking him out/Eddie’s Vecna might have angled to take out his character so he couldn’t screw things up, much like a number of theories suspect Henry will do in s5), and he breaks/ends Will’s campaign the exact moment he wants to (also dear god— DMing for Mike and Dustin working together? That sounds like an actual nightmare and I respect Eddie so much as I’m thinking of it, like, there’s a reason he says those two are the future of Hellfire lol). That’s a hard person to DM for (it can be rewarding if you like DMing, and can totally be done, but when I think about Mike’s likely style of play, based on what we know about him, the only thing I can think is Emily Axford in Dimension 20 planning and executing Operation Slippery Puppet right under Brennan’s nose— which plays SO well in that session, where Brennan described what was happening to him as the DM as “being Oceans-11’d on [his] own show”, but would frustrate or throw off a lot of newer DMs). A player like that with a good DM (which Eddie is heavily suggested to be) is an awesome combination, but can be a Lot if you don’t know what you’re doing/aren’t yet great at figuring out what to do with curveballs on the fly.

And finally…

4) Mike, by proxy to being a good DM who is also a good tactician (not an absolute requirement for a DM who is good enough with narratives/character work/rewardingly challenging encounters) is actually a brilliant enough tactician that he can modulate his abilities in order to make sure his players feel challenged by the encounters he has set up without finding it impossible.

And, yes, part of this comes down to appropriate challenge selection which usually happens in the planning phase of campaign/session building. But a lot of things happen on the fly. And the comics, at least (iirc— I’ve only seen them in sceenshots), imply that Mike actually gives his big bads real hit points and sticks to them (which you DO NOT have to do— LOTS of DMs don’t do this because for a satisfying narrative you just have the bad guy last long enough that everyone gets to do something they can feel good about and that it feels like the battle’s gone on long enough to be challenging), and he thinks practically/tactically about how they’ll be attacked. Iirc in one of the comics, he remembers that Lucas is next in the initiative order after Will, who already took his turn against the Demogorgon, and realizes that Lucas will kill it based on HP and the items Lucas’ character has on him, and Mike does end up fudging things a little, again iirc, but only after getting stuck on how to make the battle last longer in a practical/tactical way (because no matter how brilliant you are, sometimes there’s no way out), and after Nancy makes a suggestion which gets him to consider options which technically don’t fit the rules of combat he has in his head.

Meaning, Mike is tactically skilled enough to, under most circumstances, make an appropriately levelled fight challenging to the point of being rewarding, but not so challenging as to be frustrating to the players. And to keep it that way on the fly when they pull something weird and unexpected. He can modulate his tactical skills, essentially, to what’s needed in the moment. Which is pretty impressive.

All of which… really explains why his irl plans always work out tbh.

(Shhh now I need a fic where Will and El are doing heists a la Will’s idea in s4 and Mike’s the guy drawing up the plans I’m desperate shhhh.)

But also!! I think it’s super interesting that the Party is broken up into a pair of good liars (Mike and Will— even if they don’t LIKE lying, we see in s4 that they’re good at it together, Mike’s the only even vaguely smooth liar in the Party in s1, and Will shows at the end of s1 that he’s good at it when he lies about the slug) and a pair of bad liars (Lucas and Dustin). Without saying anything about the question of how, if Mike is intended to be read as queer, this also breaks the Party up along (canonically acknowledged) queer vs cishet lines and the broader meta commentary there on queer children learning to lie convincingly from early on in ways their cishet peers often don’t (or at least don’t learn for the same reasons)… this is the divide between Party members we know to be at least decent DMs (Mike and Will) and Party members who we have never seen DM or show any interest in DMing (Dustin and Lucas). Now, obviously DMing isn’t the same thing as lying, but some of the skills are transferable. Being a good DM requires creativity, but it’s also creativity that happens on the fly/in an improvised way. At the same time, it also requires you to keep track of those things you’ve made up, to keep them internally/logically consistent, and to get you good at making things up in concert with your players also making things up on the fly (hence, Mike and Will are not only good at lying alone, but also as a tag team even when Argyle attempts to help by supplying something stupid which would have caused lesser liars than Mike and Will to trip). AND you have to develop a poker face when you’re DMing, which really helps when lying.

ALL of which is to say… god it’s fascinating how Mike as a DM plays into his broader characterization!!!

My final point? I’ve seen some confusion on this point (it was a while ago and I honestly can’t even remember if it was on Tumblr or from talking to someone I know irl, but I wanted to mention it anyway because I do have some thoughts), but— Mike in s1 saying that he spent two weeks planning his campaign? Not overkill, and not him over-prepping, especially given that he also goes to school and does clubs/hangs out with his friends outside of dnd. Honestly, one of the hallmarks of a good DM (which Mike appears to be) is that they don’t over-prepare. They HAVE things prepped, and usually have an idea how a given session will go/an overarching plan for the campaign (typically), but too much prep work can easily lead to railroading your players or being otherwise inflexible when people want to do something you didn’t think about. With that being said, what “over-preparing” looks like depends significantly on who you are as a DM, who your players are, and what sort of campaign you’re running. Personally, I’m currently prepping for a campaign that starts in February, and I have been (between other commitments) working on it since mid-December. In my case, it’s pretty long form, and very character driven, so a lot of that has been me figuring out the world and then getting info from my players about their characters and figuring out how to make sure the narrative accommodates them all equally, AND it’s in a homebrew system that I had to construct for the purposes of this game so… yeah, lots of work. A lot of that is outside the scope of what Mike would need to do, but two weeks isn’t an unreasonable amount of time to spend, especially given that there are likely days when he barely has any time to work on it, if he has the chance at all. Especially because the comics imply Mike thinks really carefully about how his players will counter what he throws at them so he can make sure they have a good fight (and as a form of character/narrative control— so the fight ends the way Mike wants it to but in an organic way where the players feel they succeeded).

What I will say is interesting about that two weeks line, though, is how Karen reacts. Because Mike says “this campaign took two weeks to plan”, and Karen responds by rolling her eyes. Which is an entirely unreasonable reaction. I get that she’s annoyed by Mike in that moment, and I can even roughly understand why she’s annoyed to hear they’ve been playing for ten hours (even though… how did she not know? She knew they were in the basement that long SURELY— at least one would hope— and dnd is not a video game so… I’m mildly confused how dnd is worse than just hanging out and talking/eating snacks which is theoretically the only other thing they could be doing down there all day)… but. When your kid says a creative project of theirs took two weeks to put together? That’s not when you roll your eyes!! Sure, you can and should be firm on the fact that they need to finish the following week, if they really do need to, but rolling your eyes in that moment heavily implies that you are rolling your eyes at their work. Which?? God, I get that Karen and Ted are not interested in dnd and do not understand how much effort actually goes into planning a good campaign. But????? I hate that response from Karen so much, and I think it’s more subtle but just as telling as Ted’s interest in the TV over Mike in that same scene.

I just. They specifically show Karen rolling her eyes at that moment, NOT when Mike asks for twenty more minutes. And then later in s1 they go out of their way to show Joyce remembering spending time with Will and asking him questions about Will the Wise with interest (despite also clearly not understanding the game), and encouraging all the time he spends drawing for/about this game, and offering to get him new crayons (which is a significant expense for the Byers, presumably hence why Will makes due with green fireballs rather than bringing up the fact that he doesn’t have any more orange) so he can do his art properly… I don’t know. I just think it goes a long way to illustrate some of the differences in Mike and Will’s home lives.

#Mike wheeler #long post #Wash talks dnd again #my analysis #byler #<- not *really* but it references it enough that I think people with the ship blocked wouldn’t want to see this post

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aethersea · 2 years ago

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And We Danced and December

If you have energy for both.. otherwise dealers choice :3

Man I wrote up an entire answer and then tumblr ate it >:( Most disheartening. But! I can do better the second time, so there.

I’ve done december here, so we’ll do And We Danced! This is the Bridgerton au of Stranger Things, which I’ve been posting snippets of here from time to time because, frankly, I think it’s hilarious. There’s just something so funny to me about jarring register shifts, and I’m writing this whole fic in regular teenager vernacular except the dialogue, which is 100% in the Regency-era style of Bridgerton. Ah, I crack myself up. What a nerd.

It's named after the 1985 song by The Hooters, and it was almost called Liars In Love (after a lyric from that very song) because that's what Steve and Robin are! In this game of love, they're lying through their teeth! But it's a lot to expect readers to understand what I mean by that, and specifically to understand that I do NOT mean that they’re IN love. And I like the joy of And We Danced. These kids could use some joy.

I’m probably only ever going to actually write one scene, the one where Steve and Robin decide on their fake-courting scheme. But I do have a bunch of other stuff hashed out for this au, so I’ll just use this ask as an excuse to babble on about it, thanks anon <3

Mike and Lucas each have a title to inherit.

Dustin’s dad was a successful merchant, who upon his death left Dustin’s mom with enough capital and investments to keep her in comfort the rest of her days. She’s canny enough at maintaining the investments, and sensible enough to live within her means, so her funds stretch to send Dustin to a good school and give him plenty of opportunities. Dustin kind of wants to follow in his father’s footsteps, but he also loves science enough that he kind of wants to be a scholar. His mom is super indulgent and insists that he should do whatever he wants, the money will sort itself out.

Joyce runs a reasonably successful tailor’s shop – it used to be Lonnie’s, but when he ran off and left her with more debts than business, she took over and kept the place running by the skin of her teeth. Most of Lonnie's clients were willing to work with Lonnie's wife instead, but most of them also tried to bully her into taking worse deals. A few of the clients just refused to do business with a woman altogether. But the other boys' moms doubled down on hiring her for everything, and talked her up to their friends too. This was years ago now, and Joyce is no longer scrambling desperately to keep the bills paid. She doesn't need their support to keep afloat. But there is a – not a friendship, perhaps, but a camaraderie. They all know they can rely on one another.

The boys all played together when they were little, because social class matters less when everyone’s five. At eleven, they’re getting too old for it to be socially acceptable, but their parents are mostly turning blind eyes to it because, well, they like their sons. They like their sons’ friends. They don’t want to deprive them of this until they absolutely have to.

Max’s family is from The Americas. Her stepfather is a minor lord who’s here to settle some family affairs, and has timed it so Billy can experience the Season – practice for when he gets himself a wife, though Billy’s father scoffs in the same sentence that he’ll never be good enough to net an actual English lady. Max’s mother is of the American upper class, that New England elite that thinks highly of themselves and yet is thought so little of by the British. She might be (gasp!) divorced, or she and Neil might both be widowed.

Max is too young to come out, so she’s supposed to stay at home all day doing nothing. Practicing piano or something, idk. She hates this, and instead sneaks out dressed as a boy to experience the city. This is how she runs into the other kids.

#finx writes #finx has friends on the internet #stranger things #I have....lots more notes actually #but basically no ideas for an actual plot #or events therein #I've been toying lately with the idea of making a separate pseud on ao3 for posting snippets & au ideas #it doesn't feel acceptable to post things on ao3 until they're at least moderately done & polished up a bit #(this is a personal hangup not a judgment on anyone else)#but there's no way I'm going to write prose fic for every idea I've ever had #that's just not how it works it's not realistic #but I'd still kind of like to have it on ao3 #idk possibly the solution is to curate my writing blog a little more #I shall have to think upon it

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sickbromeo · 2 years ago

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dustin/el, will/lucas, mike/max bffs agenda

dustin loves explaining things he enjoys to people and el loves learning about new thing.

they try to bake together and succeed 1 out of every 14 tries.

el asks dustin to read her books because she doesn’t always understand all the words so dustin will explain them to her or use a word she knows.

the two of them and max will go and just hang out at family video to talk to robin and steve

lucas and will used to pass notes all the time in school

lucas decided to teach will how to play basketball and will ended up scoring on him in the first 10 minutes so lucas refuses to play with him now

will ends up being only like half an inch taller than lucas but he will never let it go

they would switch homework based on who was better at what subjects, like will would do both of their art homework and lucas would do both of their history homework

most people actually assume that mike and max genuinely hate each other and are really confused when they hear them making plans

someone asked if they were dating one time and they both laughed in that persons face

sit in the back of the class together and talk shit about the teacher and other kids

micheal come out to max first just because even if max didn’t accept him, he didn’t think she would tell other people

they tease each other about crushes and the other with kick them in the shin

#best platonic duos in the party right there !!#stand by that till i die #stranger things s4 #byler tumblr #will byers #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #eleven hopper #max mayfield #byler #will byers is gay #mike wheeler is gay #elmax #lumax #byclair

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liightsnow · 2 years ago

Text

Working it Out by EnbyVarian

It just seemed normal to Steve, to have days where he felt more feminine versus masculine. To have days where he honestly just didn't care. To have weeks where for some reason, everything he wore felt completely wrong.

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Steve knew he was going to regret taking the gaggle of children to the arcade. The migraine that followed them was already settling in his head as he parked outside of the building. The group all ran into the door, leaving Steve to lock the car and follow after them, already so done with all of these children.

He sees Max eyeing a dance machine. It's only for a split second but it catches her interest. The boys all walk past it. Max, despite obviously wanting to play it. Follows them.

The kids play for a good hour, jumping around to different games after they get bored of one. Steve can still see Max eyeing the Dancing game… Well, he’s never been one to disappoint.

He walks up to the group and clears his throat to get their attention. “Who wants to beat my ass on the dance floor?”

Despite the groans of Dustin and Lucas, Max nods her head not wanting to make her excitement too obvious.

Max was surprisingly good at the game. Steve, though he struggled at first, managed to get a hang of the game pretty easily. Soon enough, the boys became interested, and Steve was more than happy to just watch the kids have fun.

The rest of the day goes by smoothly, Steve being dragged around occasionally by Max to play the games the other boys refused to play with her. He'll admit it, they had more fun than he thought he would.

The night comes to a close and everyone gets into the car, Max forces her way into the passenger seat, much to Dustin's annoyance.

"Why don't you pick a cassette, Red?" He says, knowing full well that he only has three in there. Despite that, Max has a genuine smile on her face as she chooses something and puts it on.

"Honestly, With Steve around it just doesn't feel like I'm surrounded by only guys." Max jokes as they start to drive off. The boys in the group all laugh but Steve really doesn't seem to care too much about it.

Truthfully, He's never really cared for being a guy. Growing up he was made to do stereotypical guy stuff, sports, etc. And he liked some of it... but he also did some traditionally feminine things, he cared a lot for his hair. Cooking was genuinely relaxing to him, despite the multiple times he accidentally cut himself...

But none of that really... mattered right? He's a guy! And anyone can have any interest...

But he also knows that he likes it when someone calls him pretty, and how sometimes being mistaken as a girl from behind just felt normal.

Why does it matter anyway...? He's sure that most people feel this way, it's probably just one of those things you don't talk about.. it's fine. He's just.. Steve Harrington.

He pushes the thought out of his mind as he takes the brats home.

Working at Scoops was not as much of a pain in the ass as Steve thought it would be at first.

It was surprising how many times the group of kids would stumble into the store, not buy anything and instead either talk Steve's ear off or get him to sneak them into movies.

Which was always accompanied by a sea of:

"Thanks, Mom!" (Plus Mike, who didn't thank him at all, the little shit.)

A month in, Robin finally got curious and decided to ask.

"Why don't you get the kids to call you dad instead of mom all the time?"

He looks at her confused, he really didn't see why it mattered so much.. Obviously, he knew the gender difference in the names, it just struck him as odd that anyone even cared about it.

"I mean, it doesn't really matter right?" He shrugged before finishing his reply. "I don't really see how it would be any different."

Robin just nodded, he can see that there were gears going on in her head. He doesn't want to ask, and if he had wanted to, a group of customers came in. Working doesn't stop his thoughts though. How was there any difference between being a 'Mom' or a 'Dad' other than the names! Shouldn’t they do the same things?

He grimaced at the thought that he really didn't know what a mom or dad acted like. He sighed, not going unnoticed by Robin. Steve bites his cheek and shakes the thought away.

Plus, he would make a good mom. Probably, maybe.

***

Robin doesn't bring it back up until later in their shift, they're both closing that night. She sneaks up behind him after he locks up the shop.

"Hey, Dingus! Can you give me a ride home?"

It wasn't surprising, Robin's been asking that a lot more during her late shifts recently. And he always agrees. Even on the nights where he had to pick up some of the other kids... like now.

Tonight he's just picking up Max.

He'd zoned out for most of the drive, drumming the wheel with his fingers at the beat of the music on the radio. He's brought back into the conversation, confused on the topic..

"I mean- I guess he's parental or whatever." Max snorts, he really doesn't get why it's important..

Robin snickers. "Okay sure but a mom? Really?"

"Hey! I think I'm a great mom. The shitheads are alive right?" He notices that he's at Max's house and stops the car.

Max just rolls her eyes and gets out of the car.

"Whatever, see ya!" She laughs as she goes inside, shooting a middle finger at Steve as she leaves.

"Do you really just, not care about it?" Robin asks, climbing into the passenger seat only seconds after they start driving.

"Should I? I just don't see what's the big difference between them." He shrugs. "Seatbelt." He reminds her.

"I've heard Dustin call me his brother, it's really no different." Well, he obviously knew how the terms themselves were different.

Robin nods, clearly thinking about something again, looking at her face is proof enough. Though, Steve knows that he needs to keep his eyes on the road.

There are only a few moments of silence before she talks again, which is how it normally is with Robin.

"I mean- I know that most guys I know wouldn't really.. like being called those? And- I don't think I'd like to be called like... dad or something."

Before he can respond she adds

"Movie night?"

He can't help but say yes, and they both end up forgetting about the talk after their first round of throwing popcorn at each other.

Once she left Steve thought about it again...

He'd be a good sister, brother, whatever any kids needed really.

Being a single child, he's just happy he's able to actually figure out the whole 'sibling' thing

Getting closer to Robin is both a curse and a blessing for Steve.

Having a friend his age is amazing, especially when that friend is Robin. For the few shifts at scoops, it was incredibly awkward. He knew he’d seen her in classes before, but other than that he had no idea who she was..

Being Steve though, she knew him quite well.

‘King Steve’ was a title he hated more and more by the day. He hadn’t even really been popular when it came to the end of high school. Dating Nancy, leaving Tommy and Carol. Billy was the major downfall, so the fact that the title still floated around him everywhere stung.

It was easy enough to get her to actively enjoy her shifts with him, and now he even considered her a close friend. He just hated how he knew this would be far from the last time he’d need to convince someone he’s a different person than from high school.

Realistically, he knew he had changed. There wasn’t any argument about it, Steve before the upside down would never be caught dead letting children hitch rides to the arcade in his car. Despite that, he feared that maybe he really didn’t change at all.

Does it even count as changing if he’s just doing so people see him as a better person? So he can feel like a better person?

He doesn’t know, and his thumbnail hurts, where he’d been absent-mindedly biting down the nail while he spiraled into his own thoughts.

“Hey Dingus, you should try nail polish,” Robin says, it’s a joke but Steve doesn’t take it as one. He looks at his thumb with a frown pulling on his face.

“Do you have any?”

Robin was obviously confused at the quick agreeance, but she didn’t say no to painting his nails in the back during their break.

Steve hadn’t thought about the paint on his nails the rest of the day. After it dried, he got back to work and black paint moved out of his mind.

At the end of his shift, he looked at his nails. It really had stopped the biting, well there wasn’t anything wrong with wearing it he decided. So, the next day Steve went out to the closest store and bought a few separate colors, even though he does like the black nail polish, a little varieties good.

***

Babysitting Will Byers. It wasn’t what Steve had planned for his Saturday night, but it did beat being alone in his house.

Joyce had called him early in the morning, something about both her and Jonathon being out for the night. Steve didn’t blame her for not wanting the kid to be alone. He knew if he was the kid's age, he wouldn’t want to be alone. He doesn’t even like that now..

Steve anxiously looks at the clock as he leaves the house, the fear of somehow being too late or early ate at him even as he left at the perfect time. Arriving at the Byers house was easy, almost autopilot. He walked to the door and knocked, it opened immediately to show Joyce.

“Thank you so much for this Steve!” She exclaims kindly, not hesitating to pull him into a hug.

He’s caught off guard by it, he never seems to get along quite to well with adults. He hugs he back hesitently and follows her into the house. Wills sitting on the sofa, doing homework as some sort of kids shows in the background.

Joyce leaves after saying bye to Will, giving Steve one last glance before she fully went out of the door and to her date with Hopper.

Will wasn't a kid he was particularly close too, and he could see him uncomfortable about the whole situation. So Steve simply joined him on the couch.

He could see that Will wasn't working on homework, it seemed to be some sort of sheet? Steve assumed it was for DND, so he decided to ask.

"So, how's your campaign going on, little dude?"

The way his eyes brightened would make Steve feel good about himself for weeks to come and he knew it. Soon enough, Will was on a tangent. First he started by complaining about how it seems no one else is interested in the game anymore.

Steve frowned at that, he didn't want to learn about the game, but if the other little shits won't play with Will, it looks like it's up to the babysitter.

Steve listened intently to what Will was talking about, while most of it flew over his head, some of it stuck. He decided to pipe in every so often.

"So.. a bard is basically like a musician right? So how do they do the magic stuff?" He asks, it's not greatly worded but Will never seems to mind. In fact, it looked like he enjoyed the questions.

The pair talked for a good two hours about the game, back and forth with questions and answers until Steve was confident he knew at least the basics. Something he never thought he'd be proud of.

"I didn't know guys could paint their nails." Will speaks softly, looking at Steve's fingers that are painted an ash black color.

"Kid, do whatever makes you happy." He shrugged and looked back at him.

"Want me to paint yours?"

Dustin, despite being a thorn in Steve's side daily, the kid was also very... very observant. Weirdly so at times.. It didn't help that the little shit rarely had a filter on good days.

So the little shit notices how Steve smiles a bit wider at being called 'Stevie' and it's used as a bargaining tool for a good while, Steve doesn't actually care about the apparent "Blackmail" Dustin always joked about having on him. It was fun watching the kid act like he knew Steve's dirtiest secrets though.

"It just seems... I don't know, girly?" Dustin argues one day. "Like.. I think I've only met women named that. So it's funny I guess?

All Steve did was sigh and shake his head.

"Dustin, it's just a nickname." Steve didn't want to think about how, honestly it just felt right.. and more comfortable at some times, because Steve felt right and comfortable too. It really is just a dumb nickname.

"Why does it even matter that it's a girl nickname? And funny? You need a better sense of humor Henderson." He takes a moment, before continuing, interrupting Dustin before he could reply.

"Shut it. Being called 'Stevie' isn't going to suddenly make me a girl or whatever! Being named Steve isn't what makes me a guy right?" The car comes to a stop outside of Dustin's house. "I just don't get why I should care that it's a girl's name? I like it, dude."

It's quiet for a moment, Steve really hadn't thought he'd get this worked up about it, but hearing the same things from people was really starting to get exhausting. He didn't know how many times he had to say he didn't care.

"So.. Do you like being called Stevie more than Steve?" Dustin finally asks after the silence went on for too long. His eyes stared at the polish covering Steve's nails.

"Sometimes." He confesses, before shrugging. Dustin simply nodded and Steve could see that he was going to start asking even more questions. Steve decided to stop that before it even started.

"Now get out of the car before your mom thinks I kidnapped you or something." He snorts. Dustin leaves the car without another word.

Billy dying was the last thing Steve wanted, really. No matter how much he wanted Max to be safe, none of it could fix the look on her face as he died.

The shock was the main thing. Though it was quickly accompanied by anger, confusion and relief. Eyes staring down the corpse that was once her stepbrother.

He'd been seeing her less and less recently, and when he did see her, she was always just listening to her Walkman. Steve really wished he could do anything to help her.

***

Steve's not sure when he started doing small things for Max. He'd take her to school some days, no matter how much he tried she continued to close herself off, listening to her music.

She called him at 9 on a random Thursday. When Steve answered he could almost feel her anger through the phone. Obviously upset at herself for waking late and for her mom not being home. She sounded like she was about to fall asleep again. Steve agreed to take her to school without a second thought. Not even taking the time to fix his hair before walking out the door.

Ever since Billy died, Max and her mom lived in the trailer park. The drive there was quiet; He didn't really feel like bothering with picking any music to play for the ride there. He pulled next to the trailer.

Before Max came out, Steve was caught off guard by the sound of a door slamming open on the opposite side of him. He turned and saw, who he believed to be Eddie Munson.

He honestly never knew the man. They'd often trade insults back and forth in classes they had together, but it honestly never felt… hostile?

And Steve hated it, almost as much as he hates the fact that Eddie spotted Steve and made eye contact with him. That fact that Eddie fucking Munson was walking towards his car with a smirk and a glint in his eye that made Steve weary.

He almost rolled up his cat window but decided that he'd just deal with whatever shit was about to come out of his man's mouth.

"Well if it isn't 'King Steve!'" Eddie finally makes it over, crouching to face Steve in the window. Steve doesn't know why he suddenly feels self-conscious about his hair.

Steve rolls his eyes at the nickname, he suppressed the urge to bang his head on the wheel. He's dealt with enough concussions for a lifetime at this point.

"Munson." He looks back at him with a brow raised. "What are you doing on my car?" He decides to just try and make the interaction as quickly as possible.

"I was just checking what the great king was doing along with my peasants, my lord." He bowed theatrically, the smirk he wore made Steve's stomach jump. "Seems a bit early to take anyone to the arcade."

Fuck Henderson, Steve completely forgot about that dumb club the two were both in.

Sometimes, no-no. All the time, Steve hated Dustin and his non-stop talking about him to others.

"Aren't you late to school Super Senior?" He shot back. This was more familiar territory.

"Sorry, what college do you go to Harrington?"

It goes on like that for a bit, Steve's tapping his fingers on the wheel, glancing at the door between insults.

"Don't you have like, some dungeons and dragons thing or something to get ready for, man?" Steve asks after a while. He's a bit worried about Max at this point.

It's like a fire is lit in Eddie's eyes as he starts going on about what he has planned for the next session of his campaign…

He's an animated person, Steve knew that. It was something he considered distracting all throughout high school. Eddie now though, the way he looked so genuinely into what he was talking about…

'Wait what is he talking about?'

Steve does his best to focus on what Eddie's saying, but his eyes keep trailing down to the metal head's hands, which move with intensity as he speaks. He looks at the rings, they looked.. nice. He looks back up.

Eddie's staring at him, expecting a reply. The man still had the damn smirk on his face. It dawned on Steve that he hadn't even heard a single word, or even knew how long Eddie had been waiting for a reply. Luckily, he was saved from embarrassment as Max walked out of her trailer.

She looked exhausted, her hair was frizzy and she was obviously still blinking the sleep out of her tired eyes.

Now, Steve had gone to school late a lot. Whether he was nursing a hangover from a party, or exhausted after coming back from sneaking out to smoke pot. He also missed his fair share of days, and freshman year couldn't be too important overall.

A plan entered his mind before he even realized he was thinking of one.

His car door closed roughly, Max looked apologetic at the force, so Steve decided to not mention it. Ignoring Max and Eddie's silent nods of greetings.

Alright, plan time.

"Have you eaten?" He already knows the answer, but it's better to ask rather than just tell her that he's taking her to breakfast.

"No, I fell back asleep."

"Then breakfast? My treat."

She didn't burst into some grand smile- he didn't expect her to -but the small smile as she nodded was enough to make Steve already feel lighter about the day.

Steve turned to Eddie, surprised to come face to face with the man who was now leaning closer. He leaned back in surprise. His heartbeat quickened..

"Uh… Bye, Munson." He says after an uncomfortable amount of silence settled over them.

Eddie looks him up and down, before letting out a 'hm' sound as he leans back.

"See ya around, Princess Harrington. I love nail polish."

The name catches him off guard for a moment, he blinks and mouths it to himself.

Catchy.

Steve rolls the window up, turning to Max.

"Now. Seat belt on and you can pick the music, cassettes are in the glovebox." He informs her as he starts to pull out of the trailer park. He got more cassettes a bit recently.

She makes fun of his music taste like everyone does whenever they're in his car. It’s an endless cycle.

"Wham!, A-ha... and a Cyndi Lauper Single?" She genuinely laughs at that.

"Girls Just Want To Have Fun, is a great song, Max. Just because you don't have taste doesn't mean it's not good." He defends, No one disrespects Cyndi Lauper in his car. Not even Max.

She just rolls her eyes and looks through a few more of the tapes before stopping.

"The Runaways..." She pulls out the tape and looks at it. "Wow, you have.. 4 tapes for them?" She asks with authentic curiosity. He doesn't have time to be embarrassed before she puts in one of the tapes.

They just listened to the music as he drove them to a diner. It wasn't too close to the school, but Steve doubted that Max would care. He turns the music down as he parks.

He can see Max fussing over her hair in the mirror.

"Want me to fix your hair up?" He reaches into the glove box and pulls out the hairspray and brush he keeps in there.

You never know when you need to fix your hair.

Max doesn't look sold on the idea.

"I'll let you do mine after." He bargains, not knowing for sure if it would even work.

Max gives him a look that he can't decipher before turning to face away from him. At first he feels dread settle in his stomach. Then,

"Can you braid it?" She asks once she's sitting comfortably, running fingers through her hair with a soft sigh.

He really doesn't have knowledge of braiding hair, but he does want to make Max happy.

"I can try, can't promise it won't be shit though."

In the end, it's a decent enough braid. He only had to restart.. 4 times. Though, he'd restart a million times over if it meant that he could keep Max's smile growing.

Now his hair didn't go as well, he doesn't want to say that Max intentionally messed it up but…she knows his hair is never styled back like this.

Breakfast happened in comfortable silence. The two of them ordered and ate without a word being said. Max started talking as she finished off her food.

"Every time I go to sleep I see him."

She doesn't need to say anything else, he knows full well what she's talking about. He can feel his stomach sink, he couldn't fuck this conversation up.

"And- I don't know why- or how..? But I feel... guilty." It's the quietest he's ever heard her speak. "Like I should've.. done something."

"Billy made my life Hell. An absolute Hell.. it was like I couldn't do a single thing right by him." She starts to breathe a bit quicker.

"And.. I want to think that, maybe he could have been a good guy? But.." She started playing with the strings of her sweatshirt. While she took a moment to continue, Steve reached over and placed his hand on her arm softly.

Max met his eyes again and he could see the tears that threatened to spill.

"There wasn't a single moment where he even seemed nice." She grimaces. "He had to deal with... all of his dad's shit. I thought.." She let out a chuckle. "Maybe he just *pretended* to be an asshole."

"There were so many nights, where I would just wish - pray - that something would happen. That.. he would just be gone one day." She finishes off her Orange Juice staring straight into the table, avoiding Steve's gaze again.

The waitress comes before Steve can respond. Max stands and makes a quick rush to the car, Steve pays as quickly as he can. Not caring about the outrageously large tip he left as he went over and got in the car.

He looks at her and can see her shaking shoulders as she tries to silence her crying. Steve took a breath.

"Max, I don't think it's wrong that you wished all those things." That's what he starts with, he doesn't know if it's the right thing to say.

"He.. he hurt you kid. And- I don't know how far that hurt goes, but that doesn't change the fact that he hurt you." He taps his fingers on the wheel before continuing. "He may have been your brother but that doesn't mean he ever acted like one."

"You wanted to be safe Max. And if safe was without Billy around then that isn't your fault." Steve looked at her, making sure to meet her eyes. "You're not the one who strained your relationship with him, alright Max?"

"He wasted out on an amazing sister, He had time, and maybe if he had more, maybe he could've been better." He gives her shoulder a little shake. "But he wasted the time he had with you by terrorizing you. He wasn't a good guy, and he wasn't good to you."

She's quiet now, she takes a deep breath before starting to wipe the remaining wet from her eyes.

"If you tell anyone I cried i'll make sure everyone sees your cassettes." She threatens. Steve can tell it's half-hearted, as long as she feels a little bit better.

There's a beat of silence.

"Want me to fix your hair again?"

***

He picks her up a few more times in the ongoing month. Though he never had another run-in with Munson.

It was a better day for Max, Steve could still see the sadness that was trapped behind her eyes as she laughed with Lucas and Dustin, but at least she wasn't moving away. He could overhear them, apparently, Dustin had actually managed to beat Max's high score.

The day went on, and the kids continued laughing with each other, just having fun.

Steve sighed to himself, he desperately wished that they could just always be this happy. If they didn't have to care about the upside-down, they could just be normal kids, struggling with high school, having dates, parties-

Or maybe that was just him. He doubts any of his kids would even like doing those. Hell, it seems like only Lucas wanted to be popular. They might call themselves 'The party' but those shitheads would be torn to pieces.

But it could always be different, they were tough kids. He knew Max would be fine, and as long as they all stuck together, They'd all be okay.

He's pulled from his thoughts by someone pulling on his sweater, Max.

"Can we talk? Alone?"

And he can't say no to her.

They walk outside of the arcade, just off to the side where people came by less. He could see her looking tense. A change from when he saw her just minutes ago laughing.

"This is so dumb.." Max grumbled, kicking the toe of her shoe on the ground. She let out a long sigh, Steve could tell it was more for the effect rather than anything else.

"Dustin said I should stop...." Steve couldn't hear the second part of it, she looked away and talked into her sleeve.

Dustin.. He loved the kid, he really did, but sometimes the boy just didn't know when he found a boundary.

"I didn't hear the second part, but I'm sure it's fine Max." He assures her, Steve puts a hand on her shoulder and gives her a small smile.

"Sometimes I say you're like a sister to me." She says it fast and uncertainly. "It's not in a serious way or anything."

There was something in her voice that made it sound like she did actually mean it that way.

"I don't even know what a big sister acts like anyways... but you aren't Billy."

Something in his chest swelled, a sister huh?

He hadn't really thought about it before, having a sister. He remembers growing up and seeing all of his friends with siblings, Steve knows he used to wish for a baby brother when he was younger when his parents would leave him alone with nannies, not letting him go outside because they were 'worried'.

"Max." His voice is soft, crouching down to look at her.

He can't read anything on her face, she's definitely just waiting for a bad reaction and Steve can feel his heartbreak at that thought.

"I think you're a pretty good sister, kid." He says it completely seriously. He wants her to know, that it's completely okay.

"Let's both learn what it's like to have a sister, how about it?" He suggests, and he knows he said the right thing.

Sister.

The word brought a smile to his face as he drove home that day, as he made dinner for himself in his empty house. As he lay in bed that night, he closed his eyes and let himself think.

A dangerous thing to do if you're Steve Harrington.

He had come to terms with something after the Russians, after the conversation with Robin in his car. After every conversation really.

He doesn't think anyone else feels the same way about their gender as he does- or at least... anyone he knows?

The thoughts feel terrifying, isolating like he's learning how to swim all over again and is still struggling to tread the water....he could easily ignore the feelings that bubbled in his chest up after being called princess after someone mentions that he could really look feminine if he tried.

He already got weird looks because of the nail polish, the idea of even trying anything else made his heart race faster than he'd ever felt before.

Steve groaned, tossing and turning in bed as he desperately tried to get into a comfortable position. Soon he opened his eyes and moved downstairs onto the couch.

Falling into a dreamless sleep sounded amazing right now.

As long as it means he isn't alone with these thoughts.

Robin was always his saving grace when it came to his thoughts.

Once he and Robin got jobs at the Family Video, movie nights became a lot more common between them. Normally it's in the back room of the store, during the slow hours of school nights.

Other times, they'd go to Steve's house. Robin didn't stay the night often, not when it was just the two of them, her parents were scared about their daughter being alone with a guy.

Sleeping after everything was almost impossible for the both of them, being together seemed to calm down the both of them better than anything else. So, Robin started lying about where she was sometimes. She had enough friends in band that she was sure would help her with excuses.

So, almost every Monday, Wednesday and the occasional Friday, Robin would stay over at Steve's house. He'd make breakfast in the mornings, then take her to school. It was nice, to have someone else in the house.

When it was just Steve, the house felt cold. Devoid of all life, cleaned to perfection. Really the only sign of life would be the shoes that he takes off at the door.

The halls felt like they stretched forever at night, the floor creaked and empty, and the lifeless shell of a house felt more like hell than the upside-down.

Even just adding one person seemed to give the house more colour. The hallways seemed to stretch a little less far, despite no change in temperature, the house was warm with the two of them.

Some nights, Robin wouldn't be able to come over. Steve would wait by the phone until 2 am when she eventually called. He couldn't count the amount of whispered conversations on the phone.

Their talks would be endless, it was almost like no matter what, they never ran out of things to talk about. A lot of the time, it was normally Robin going off about something she learned recently. Steve would listen, and actually, ask questions. He'd say it's because it gets her mind off everything... which is true. It's also, nice to hear his best friend is happy and passionate about something.

He'd never say that though, he's not some sap.

It's the 15th of December. Steve looks at the clock as it changes to show 03:45, he lets out a tired sigh as he runs a shaking hand through his hair.

He's sweating, awoken from a nightmare just moments ago. Every time he closes his eyes he can see it all again.

If he says anything he can put Dustin in danger, he can't do that.

He did do that. He managed to put every single one of those kids in danger.

He opens his eyes with a shaking breath, he glances towards the phone before quickly looking away. He can't bother anyone- it's way too late for that and he knows it. He closes his eyes again.

Steve takes a deep breath, in and out slowly a few times.

He lays back, relaxing slightly before his mind begins to wander..

'Most guys I know wouldn't like to be called those..'

Why? He wanted to ask that so badly. What was the problem? So what if sometimes, it's nice to be seen as feminine? Nice to be seen as pretty.

Plus, they're just words. It's not like changing the pronouns would change the feeling.

'Oh, Steve? She's over there!'

'This is my girlfriend, Stevie.'

Steve never opened his eyes more quickly. He sits up and looks at the clock with a panicked expression.

04:30

He has a shift at 7, and going back to sleep now ensures he'll sleep in too late. Which is made worse seeing how he's Robin's ride to work too.

He decides to suck it up and have an early morning.

If Robin notices the softer, more feminine-looking sweater Steve's wearing when he picks her up, she doesn't mention it.

Actually, neither of them talk during the entire ride. Which is incredibly strange with the two of them. Steve pulls stray strings from his sweater. As they stop at a light he talks.

I'm freaking out Robin. I'm scared of the things that I'm thinking about myself. I know you won't care but I'm fucking terrified. I don't know what's happening.

"I'm me-" that is not what he wanted to say at all.

The light turns green and he goes forward. Whatever he could talk about it later. Actually no, what was he even thinking? This would be a horrible idea.

He's just- he's not some freak. He's just himself. He's a boy

Could be a girl sometimes

"STEVE- Pay attention to the road!"

He doesn't let himself think anymore until they get to Family Video.

Pros about the job: He and Robin get a lot of talking time getting it ready for opening. Half of the time the store is completely empty.

Cons about the job: He and Robin get a lot of talking time. And Sundays are always empty.

It takes about an hour before Steve can't hold it in anymore.

Not a single person has come through the door, the movie that's playing doesn't even catch Steve's attention.

Robin wouldn't care, she's fine. Maybe she'll understand?

He chews his lip and rushes to flip the Open sign to Closed. Before Robin can even try and question anything, he's dragging her into the backroom.

"Rob- I uh.. okay so-" He runs a hand through his hair and he takes a moment to gather his thoughts..

What did he even want to say?

It felt like his...

Her?

Steve was confused and took a moment to think

'This is Steve, he's fun'

'He' just didn't feel right, not now.

'Steve? She's working today.'

It just felt so much better right now.

That's one problem... slightly solved, but she was still glaring at the giant problem she had created for herself.

What was she going to say?

“Today I feel like a girl, But yesterday I didn't?”

"Wait- what did you just say?" Robin had a hand on Steve's wrist, it was gentle and a bit calming, seeing as Steve has accidentally said that aloud.

Well fuck it?

"I feel like I'm going to throw up.." She starts, moving her hands to her face. She doesn't want to look at Robin until all of this is over with.

"I don't understand this Robin! I- I know I'm not *supposed* to like being like... called girl? But sometimes I like it- and it just feels right?" She finally takes her hands away, only to once again fix her hair before looking anywhere but Robin's face as she continued.

"But I'm not.. always a girl? I'm a guy, And- honestly, usually, I just don't.. mind anything?" Her voice is strained and she can't help but fear for the worst.

"I don't even know what I'm trying to explain here!"

Robin takes a moment, obviously still processing everything that's been said to her. She nods a few times and grabs Steve's hands.

"I- I don't know either, but nothing would stop me from being your best friend dingus." She lightly punched the others shoulder and let out a loud sigh.

"...You think we could get away with sneaking off?" Robin surprises her with the offer.

That day the two of them drive a few towns over, someplace with a slightly larger selection in clothes and makeup. Robin insisted that

"Well if you're a girl today then you should fully feel like one."

Steve thinks that Robin saying that might have made her feel even better than the copious amount of shopping they did.

She had never been so happy that her parents were never around. As she and Robin piled clothes onto the living room couch.

There were some things that she knew she'd never really be able to wear anywhere. At least not without a few- no, a lot. - of stares. Most of it just edged on the line of androgyny... actually now that she looked at it.

"If I wear any of this I'll look like I went through your wardrobe."

"And is that a bad thing, Stevie?"

"Can you call me that?" She waits before realizing she needs to most likely give more information. "Uh- when I'm.. a girl I guess? Call me Stevie. I like it."

***

Steve and Robin come up with a system of sorts. Just an easy way to convey Steve's pronouns without having to say them aloud to everyone.

Three bracelets. Purple for she/her, blue for he/him and a mix of the two for any. Robin made them one night, she said couldn't sleep, or call so she wanted to do something productive.

When she gave them to him, he cried, thanked her and then proceeded to get high in his living room with the joint she brought with her. She said something about a dealer from high school who lived in the trailer park. He instantly knew and thought about Eddie..

Once again, Robin Buckley is his saving grace.

Though, she did send him into another crisis that same night.

The whole night had been normal, nothing quite out of the ordinary. The two of them sat on the couch, Robin using Steve as a human pillow. Steve was comfortable in their position, laying back with Robin basically acting like a blanket.

"So-" Robin starts talking, mouth full of popcorn. "Are you still technically straight?"

That makes them think, well yeah? They liked girls.

"I think so?" A soft chuckle accompanied the response.

"You're not like... Bi or anything?"

They had no fucking idea what that was.

#genderfluid steve harrington #steve harrington #fanfic #steddie #robin buckley #max mayfield

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jon-astronaut · 2 years ago

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Stranger Things Social Media AU - But I Knew You - (Ronance & Stonathan) - Chapter 2

Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Jonathan’s Instagram Post

Steve’s POV

When Dustin asked Steve for a ride to the Wheeler’s Steve really tried to refuse but the shithead knew what strings to pull to get Steve to come. So when he finally agreed to be Dustin’s driver for the day he planned to make it a drop-off at the street but before he knew what was happening he was in through the door. The kids were entirely too loud filling up the usually boring Wheeler living room with their noise as Karen Wheeler chatted with Joyce Byers with Jim Hopper silently listening to them and Ted Wheeler looking through a newspaper. Nancy and Jonathan were at a corner talking amongst themselves and Steve did everything in his power to not look at them.

“I did my job, now can I be excused?” Steve asked to Dustin as he already made a move towards the door.

“No, we need you and your car.” Dustin replied quickly.

“What does that mean?” Steve asked with a sigh.

“We can’t all fit in Nancy’s car.” Max replied this time, and the mention of her name got Nancy’s attention as well as Jonathan’s.

“I’m sure you kids can squeeze in the back.” Steve said only looking at the kids.

“I can ride the shotgun and you can make it work in the back.” Jonathan said and Steve barely kept himself from jumping up at his voice.

It had been too long since he directly heard Jonathan’s voice. He used to watch any of the videos he had on his phone or any video Jonathan shared almost religiously until he decided to force himself to move on once university started.

“Unfortunately, the days of squeezing is over.” Lucas replied pointing at himself, calling attention to his height.

“This is New York you can take the subway.” Steve suggested knowing damn well his suggestion would be shut down.

“But today’s supposed to be special.” Dustin said with big eyes that Steve couldn’t say no to.

“Clearly, he is busy we can figure something out.” Jonathan said coldly before Steve could reply.

Half not wanting to say no to to Dustin and half wanting to prove to Jonathan that he wasn’t the Steve Harrington Jonathan remembered Steve agreed to the plan.

“Fine.” He said with a small smile and only saw a peak of Jonathan’s surprise. “But I choose who rides with me and everybody’s welcome except middle Wheeler.” He added trying not to think about the satisfaction he felt at Jonathan’s surprise and trying to focus on messing with the kids.

Mike rolled his eyes, grumbled and almost cursed at Steve before he remembered his parents and Mrs.Byers and Hopper was in the room. In the end, Dustin, Max and Lucas rode with him while Jonathan, Will, Mike and El rode with Nancy. Steve tried not to think about the way Jonathan was laughing with Nancy as he got in her front seat.

Robin’s POV

Nancy’s POV

The kids were walking in front of them, excitingly chatting with each other, occasionally yelling and managing to create chaos even in the streets of New York. Steve walked with them being the butt of their jokes and Nancy couldn’t help but laugh at the way he acted like he was one of them. Nothing she could have guessed in high school. Jonathan was trailing behind them with a sulk and scowl that Nancy quite didn’t understand and she hoped that it wasn’t because of anything related to their weird little love triangle that should have been left in high school. She liked hanging with this new and improved Steve and she did miss talking to Jonathan over the last year but none of them involved anything romantic. She liked their company as friends.

“How are they managing to make the loudest noise on the streets of New York?” Robin asked with a laugh and distracted Nancy from her thoughts.

“I honestly don’t know.” Nancy replied with a warm smile.

“I think I’m gonna get a migraine tonight.” Robin said just as they heard a scream coming from the front followed by a fit of laughter.

“You are an only child?” Nancy asked turning towards Robin.

“Yeah.” Robin replied turning towards Nancy as well. Their eyes connected for a second before Nancy turned her eyes away and Robin continued. “I’d like to think either I was such a good kid that my parents thought they couldn’t top me or I was so bad that they couldn’t risk another one.”

Nancy knew that Robin was probably joking but she still couldn’t help herself from wanting to comfort her. Robin was always so chatty and lovely at the short amount of times Nancy saw her. Her voice was amazing proved by the covers she posted on Instagram and she was really smart as Nancy realized a few weeks back when Nancy heard her rant about intersectional feminism and Kimberlé Crenshaw.

“I think the first one is true.” Nancy replied softly. “I think they knew they couldn’t make another Robin.”

“That might be the best compliment I ever got.” Robin said and she was laughing but Nancy caught something genuine in her voice.

“Then, don’t think about the second option again.” Nancy said her voice a little serious, opposite to Robin.

Robin eyed her for a second, Nancy was feeling Robin’s gaze on her. She wondered if she overstepped because Robin and her weren’t really close. Nancy didn’t even see Steve that often, so she didn’t see Steve’s friend that often too - even if she would have really liked that.

“Okay, Wheeler. I won’t.” Robin replied after a few seconds with a hint of surprise.

Jonathan’s POV

#stranger things #ronance #stonathan #steve harrington #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #robin x nancy #steve x jonathan #butiknewyou

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dubiousdisco · 2 years ago

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"You could not let him go. (...) You are the monster"

I think this line foreshadows both the M*leven breakup as it does the endgame couples. Bear with me,

Hopper (the one who actually used the line "I let her go" to refer to his first wife, which allowed him to eventually move on from his loss and find El and Joyce), lets go when he mistakenly believes he is the curse and tries to help them from afar. This is when Joyce, who had also moved on but came back for him when she knew he could be alive, finally manages to rescue him and he is reunited with El later on.

Steve is shown (and states) he can't let go of Nancy. Both Nancy and Jonathan let go of each other even if they really didn't want to, because they thought the other would be happier without them. Notably, in contrast to Mike and El, there was not a demand for an explanation during their absence. Jonathan came back running to Nancy as soon as he understood she was in trouble.

Robin let Vickie go, and perhaps she will end up with Vickie.

Dustin and Suzie are very comfortable with the distance, but she was grounded for changing his grade, which she accepted. She did, however, help the cali crew with his "birthday gift" when they told her about this. She let him go but came back to help him.

Lucas let Max go and have her distance but told her he was there for her and was reached out for her as soon as she allowed him to. I still believe they are going to have that date.

The most annoying guy in the series, Jason, could not let go of Chrissy. It is understandable that the shock got to him, but not excusable that he couldn't accept chrissy doing weed and decided the only thing to do was to kill Eddie. He and Chrissy are not, or course, reunited, and he has a bad ending.

Henry Creel has a great disdain for human beings, except maybe the ones that remind him of himself (el? will?). He, however, after turning into vecna, does not let any of his victims go and in fact consumes them. He tells nancy he remembers everyone he killed. He lives in the upside down version of his house, in frozen time, and a grandfather clock is shown when he is about to attack. The big bad of the series has many traits relative to mental illness, but the one we are focusing on is his inability to let go.

Will, very notably, tells Mike (he) will always need him, but lets him go as if ripping off a band-aid. (note that will is rewarded at this point, he is back to being Mike's number 1. Even when El walks away at the end, he stays with Will.

now, the complicated part.

Mike basically told Will he was about to let Eleven go because she doesn't need him and there's nothing else he can do for her. He tried to help her during the whole season (told the DJ to stop during the Angela bullying and tried to reach her in the rink, taking breakfast to her, asking gently what happened and assuring her she can talk to him because he is nobody important 'been bullied all his life' [this is an issue as well] and those people are nothing to El, a super hero [another issue], tries to reach her by foot when the cops are taking her away by car and tries to assure her he will "fix this", tries to help her during her fight with Vecna but only manages to say what she wants to hear thanks to Will, and even so, it seems like it didn't help much, i'm sure i'm forgetting something). He only insisted on the relationship because Will reassured him that she needed him. Romantic or not, he does love El. He will stay for her if she does need him.

El doesn't really NEED Mike, but she is shown several times acting as if she does throughout the seasons. This season features her being bullied and not telling Mike as to not taint his image of her, being moved to tears by the bullying and by the fact that MIKE SAW IT HAPPEN, and running away from mike when he was trying to reach her because him seeing her in need of help made her feel worse.

She demands Angela tell MIKE it was a joke and they really are friends, and when she refuses, moved by the bullying AND the fact that she can't mantain her image to mike anymore, she attacks her. We see a flashback to Brenner. We can easily infer that this moment made her feel like a monster.

This season we are also shown a flashback of el making Max fall off her skate in s2 when trying to impress mike into letting her join the group. El did this without knowing Max because she was upset a girl made Mike smile. In this context we know she also feels like a monster for this and that she did this to "keep Mike".

When mike tries to reach out for her, he mentions she's a super hero [a problem, since she can only think of herself as a super hero or a monster] and to answer why she didn't tell him about any of this, she shows him all the (frankly giant) stack of letters he sent her and points out the 'from mike', he 'can't even write' that he loves her. She rejects his reaching out, possibly because she felt like she was losing him as well. but still she tried to keep him through her lies in the beggining. even her letter to him after going back to brenner, although signed "from el" instead of "love el" was TO MIKE about becoming a superhero again, a person she knows he will love.

What I think is that after the training with Brenner, and the realization of the monster Brenner became/was and the monstrous things he did because he could not let go of Henry AND of Eleven, she is getting ready to let Mike go. She is not the monster, but she did consider many of the things she did because of Mike (making max fall, breaking Angela's face FOR NOT LYING TO MIKE and not just because of the bullying) monstruous. She doesn't want to be like Brenner. I think this is how her arc will end. She will let Mike, the first person she bounded with and who helped her not feel like a monster, the person she loved the most in her childhood, go. and she will move on. And maybe then she will accept his help as her friend and the help of all her friends and family.

And I think Mike, who had almost accepted their breakup already, will also let his superman go, but he will stay friends with El Hopper, Will's sister, and his best friend who understands, just like Will does.

There have been parallels between Will and El since season one, especially in regards to Mike. So if El goes from being his girlfriend to his best friend, perhaps Will will go from being his best friend to his boyfriend?

While I'm not sure this is what the duffers are planning, the season does end like this:

#byler #byeler #byler centric #jopper and jancy are mentioned #not gonna tag teh other ships because i think people will be bothered to find this in the ships tags #eleven analysis #s*tancy is not seen as endgame in here sorry #anyway i think this is what the letting go theme is about #vecna henry also mentions that max thought about following billy and could not let him go

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gremlin-armand · 2 years ago

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💖 Ace/Aro Dustin Headcannon 💖

In response to this ask on @nancysglock page. Just wanted to share some thoughts (decided to make my own post for etiquette once I realized how long it had gotten) on this because I love Dustin/Gaten. Also check out this very sincere response by @untitled-byler-blog (hoping I can help put to words why it exactly "feels right" at least in my pov)

I dont think Dustin being headcanoned as ace/aro has any thing to do with his disability or lack of "conventional attractiveness". He is just as charming, cute, and lovable as all the other characters!! But his relationships with others seem to be portrayed a lot differently than the rest of the characters. He actually seems to be the only main character who's story arch isn't dependent (or at least highly influenced by) their love interest/story.

And I find that especially interesting since he was quite vocal about wanting a girlfriend in S2. He went after Max, and when he couldn't get her, he tried to talk to multiple girls at the snowball dance. He wanted a girlfriend, but it didn't seem to matter who it was. He was more occupied with the idea of it than the reality and the actual feelings involved. Even Steve had to explain to him that it feels different. He takes that information and they make a note to show you he can see the spark between Lucas and Max, so he knows what it is and what it looks like. But it never feels like he, himself, gets that feeling for anyone in the show. This seems to be intentional writing.

Honestly, the most 'spark' I remember getting from him around any girl was Nancy when she danced with him. But she's more like someone he respects and looks up to. She's more of a big sister figure to him than she is to Mike. I think it falls under the assumption that he is just very respectful towards her in a way because he sees her as just another human being (albeit of the opposite gender) and is able to connect with her for who she really is and acknowledge all her good qualities. There's that same kind of respect when he interacts with Suzie (and Steve and Eddie tbh). He is constantly talking her up and saying she's smart and pretty but we don't see any build up or spark for his relationship with her. Like, everything is in the right place for a relationship to work, but it's not really shown. And even when they do talk "lovey dovey" in s3 it's very innocent and naive. As if they are going off of what they learned in a cheesy romantic movie (like The Muppet Movie or Gone with the Wind or something) rather than genuine romantic tension. Once again, more preoccupied with the idea of the relationship being romantic when it feels more like a close friendship with cutesy nicknames.

All of which is completely fine! Dustin gives the vibes of "I found an awesome girl who is pretty, smart, and funny. I enjoy talking to her and thats enough for me. That's all I want." And he goes on about the rest of the s3 and s4 plotlines without much worry about over it. He has his girlfriend, he's happy, and now he can focus on other things! His story and character arch are more revolvant around his friendships and interactions with the other characters around him.

It's interesting then, to see him paired with Steve, who is doing the same thing Dustin was doing in S2. However, the stark contrast here is that Steve in S1 is set up to be a bad boy/player type character, but he refuses to settle for just anyone so instead he evolves into more of a "clearly attracted to women but also desperately looking for the emmotional connection to go along with it". He's willing to go on multiple dates/sleep with multiple girls but can't seem to find one that he clicks with. He wants something deeper and he's running around like mad trying to find it.

A side note as well, Dustin pushing Steve towards Robin is very telling. He sees the connection between them but can't distinguish the difference between it being romantic and platonic. He almost just assumes if you get along really well with someone of the opposite gender, you should date them. Which clearly is not the case with Robin and Steve.

So I can definitely see why people identify with Dustin being aro/ace just because he interacts with people in a very unique way. (And that's good! That's why we love him so much! He literally cares so much for everyone and has so much respect for people just as they are!) But I think to discredit his character and reduce aro/ace to being just because 'you don't think he's attractive' or 'because he has a disability' is very tone deaf and offensive to people who really identify with him.

That being said, if there is actually anyone who headcanons him aro/ace because of that, you can gtfo!! Honestly, disability or not, Gaten is very attractive and his personality makes him even more so! Being ableist or just plain shallow is not welcome around here! But in my opinion most people who would hc him as such only do so because they can really see themselves in the way he views and interacts with the people around him.

Hopefully all that made sense 💖 Dustin is a big cinnamon roll and him being aro/ace is very plausible to me. I, for one, am not big on labels so I don't feel the need to fit him or anyone else into a specific box but still 100% see it. Especially when all the other characters have subplots involving tension between them and their s/o for any number of reasons where as Dustin does not. And that has nothing to do with the two things the anon mentioned.

(Also I dont want to shy away from the fact that Dustin can be disabled and/or "conventionally unattractive" and aro/ace that's very valid! 💖)

#i cant believe i went on such a rant qith this #honestly was the first time hearing this take though and it stuck a cord #love just being able to have discourse about it and hearing other peoples opinions!#please dont take offense to anything that was said in this post #my intention was soley to analyse his character traits!#have a good day yall 💖#dustin henderson #gaten matarazzo #stranger things #byler nation #stranger things Headcannon #aro/ace #aro/ace dustin #ignore the typos in the tags lol im too lazy to fix them

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years ago

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Day five of Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! Today’s prompt was monsters!

Little brat’s been in the school ten minutes after the bell.

After they both broke curfew, Max staying out late trick-or-treating and going to one of her little friends’ house to trade candy, and Billy crashing at the lingering party until he was sober enough to come home and not get his ass kicked, they were supposed to be straight home today. Used up all their free time for the week apparently.

Max knew that this morning, he already told her to forget about the damn AV club. If he had to cancel on whatever chick he was going to take out (was it Carol? No, Carol is Tommy’s girl. Fuck he doesn’t know anybody yet) Max had to give her shit up to.

He gets bored of waiting for the little twerp and tosses his cigarette to the ground, marching in there his damn self.

Only time he’s ever been in this building was to pick Max up from AV. His dad made him come all the way inside and give his assessment on the teacher. Asked (slapped him and demanded it) that he do so to check on Max. Just to be sure. Like he cares.

But it works out anyways that he knows the way now that Max has decided to disappear and it’s up to him to track her down. Only problem is he gets there, and the room is empty. Not even just that Max isn’t in there, there’s no damn kids or teacher or nothing. Just a knocked over lamp and some shit on the floor.

He ain’t trying to hunt her down, but he has to get her back home in like, the next half-hour, and she’s somewhere she ain’t supposed to be. The school isn’t very big, half the damn building is closed off for the school board to use, so there isn’t much ground to cover.

He’s not trying to get himself arrested either, so he makes quick work of the school, checking all the places Max might be. Still, he comes up empty, and he’s about to just give up and let whoever she was with keep her when he sees something scurrying across the floor out of the corner of his eye.

It’s not really any of his business whether or not the middle school is infested, but it catches his eye for the wrong reasons.

It’s a gnarly little thing, a cross between a frog and rat or some shit, but Billy’d recognize that thing anywhere. It’s a fucking monster, crawling around the halls of his sisters school.

Purely on instinct, he tracks the thing to where it cornered itself, taking advantage of the fact that it’s still small and growing into its demon teeth to stomp on the gross monster. He stops once he’s positive it’s dead and not just faking him out like they do sometimes, he’s not gross or something, but he nearly jumps out of his skin when behind him, Max shouts, “Billy!”

He turns, ignoring the pile of goop that was one of those things to face his, apparently, from the flush on her cheeks and the bitterness in her tone, “Jesus, shitbird. What is wrong with you?”

He’s hardly even got the question out before Max snaps at him, “Why would you kill it!”

“Do you even know what that thing is?” Billy raises eyebrows, no patience for Max telling him what to do, but she counters with something that surprises him, “It was Dustins, he discovered it, you jerk!”

“Yeah, no. These things’ve been around longer’n any of us have been alive. And I don't care who found it first. They’re fucking monsters.”

“How do you even know what he was? You killed him.”

“It. Not him. Don’t humanize them.” Billy hisses, warning Max, “And anyways, I seen some shit kid. Don’t ask. And don’t play around with anymore of these little fuckers. Give ‘im a day or two ‘n he’ll be the size of a gray wolf. Another month or so and he’s seven feet tall.”

“But what is he?” Max demands stubbornly.

Billy answers simply, “Something you don’t want anything to do with.”

By now, the rest of Max’s friends have followed the sound of her yelling to their little showdown, and it’s Dustin, the owner of this thing, that chimes in, “But wait, does that mean you know?”

“Know what?” Max huffs, but she gets ignored, Billy firing back at Dustin, “Do you?”

All four of the kids nod at once. Billy sighs deeply, “Jesus, how the fuck did a bunch of little kids get caught up in this bullshit?”

“How did you?” These kids aren’t very original coming back at him with his own questions like this.

Again Max interjects, being left out of the questioning just making her more confused. “Excuse me, but what exactly are we talking about?”

But again nobody acknowledges her, Billy busy answering the boys’ questions.

“Had a friend came from that lab. You know about that part too?” He clarifies, getting three attentive nods, and this time one disapproving scowl, as he explains, “Well the monsters followed ‘im. Through their portals and his head and shit, they were out in California too. That’s how I know I was right to kill that thing.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence before Mike insists, “I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t know, man. How else would he know about everything?” Lucas shrugs, exciting Dustin and promoting him to ask, “Do you think he knows about Eleven too?”

“I’m still here too you guys. What is going on?” Max interrupts, serving only as a reminder, Lucas turning the conversation back to Billy as he asks, “Why haven’t you told Max?”

Billy smugly tries their little deflecting shtick on them, “Could ask you the same. Why are you showing her the monsters if you ain’t gonna tell her jack about ‘em either? I was keeping her safe. You assholes were keeping her stupid.”

Max interjects, “Hey!”

“No, that’s not fair. We had to sign an NDA.” Dustin corrects, very matter of fact for a kid who doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“Yeah, me too kid. It wasn’t any secret that number six escaped. I’ve had those assholes watchin’ over my shoulder for years and I didn’t even do anythin’.” Billy feels like he’s having a trauma competition with a bunch of middle schoolers, and he hates it. His tone is harsh as he demands, “Which brings us into, what the hell did you do to get caught up in all this?”

“None of your business.” Mike spits, but for the first time in the conversation, Will chimes in, “I got taken. By the demogorgon.”

“Okay. What’s that got to do with this, kid?”

“The demogorgon is what we called the big one. Before El killed it.” Lucas explains.

“Look, I don’t know who El is, but believe me when I tell you, you brats don’t know nothing. There ain’t just one of those, you know. Every last one of those annoying little fuckers like the one I just squished’ll turned into a ‘big one’.” They all look collectively defeated by that, maybe because he knows more than they do, or maybe just because they didn’t want to admit it was that bad.

But none look more ghastly than Will, who barely manages to inform them, “That’s bad. Last night, I heard them while we were trick-or-treating. They were everywhere.”

“Then we’re gonna have to do something.” Dustin declares determinedly, but Billy shuts it down right away, “No. Seriously, what the hell? All you sorry little punks are going right the fuck back home and pretending none of this never happened. If you don’t provoke ‘em, they’ll stop.”

“But they weren’t provoked when they took Will.” One of then argues, but Billys ignoring them now, turning back to a no less calm Max, “I don’t care. I ain’t doing this shit all over again. Come on, Maxine. Gotta leave your little friends to their baby ‘demogorgon’ and their world saving bullshit.”

Max scrunches her face up and argues, “Um, did you forget that I still have no idea what the hell is going on?!”

“Honestly, yeah.” Billy admits, “But s’better if you don’t ask questions. Now if you please, we gotta go.”

“No. You’re being a jerk.” Max crosses her arms and glares at him, a clear sign shes refusing to leave with him.

Billy just shrugs, “M’always a jerk. Thought you’d know that by now.”

“I do. And that’s exactly why I’m not listening to you. If my friends are going to do something, I want in on it.”

“Look what you little fuckers did.” Billy grumbles at the boys before trying to reason with his sister again, “Max. We only got fifteen minutes out of an almost half hour drive to get home. Come on.”

“This is so much bigger than that! I don’t care what your stupid dad says, I want to do something!” Her attitude gets on Billy’s nerves. That’s definitely deliberate if the spite gleaming in her cold eyes is any indication.

“You don’t even know what it is!”

“Then I deserve to find out!”

Billy sighs deeply, done doing this with a bunch of little kids in over their heads, “You know what, fine, but we’re stoppin’ at a payphone and you’re gonna be the one to tell my old man I’m takin’ you out for.. I don’t know, fucking ice cream or some shit. And if we get in trouble, I’m blaming you. Deal?”

Max smiles to herself at having gotten one over on him, “Deal. Where are we going though?”

“I dunno. Ask your nerds. S’their big fucking idea.” Billy grumbles, matching Max’s bitterness.

“We’ll have to call a meeting.”

“Will my basement work?”

“No offense, but I don’t think he’s getting past your mom.” Dustin nods towards Billy, the older boy rolling his eyes even though he’s not wrong, then offers, “My mom doesn’t like visitors. Maybe Will’s?”

“Yeah, Mrs. Byers will let anybody come over.”

“And she already knows what’s going on.”

They all nod again, and Billy rolls his eyes at them again while Lucas relays their decision to Max, “Alright, meet us at Will’s in an hour.”

“Why that long though? We’re all here right now.”

“Gives us time to cover our tracks, shitbird.” Billy hums in response to Max, stepping forward and asking, “What’s the damn address?”

This ‘meeting’ the twerps called was pretty much everyone in this hick town that knows the same dirty little secret as he does getting together in a tiny house and panicking. Billy and Max get fully interrogated like, a dozen times, once by the damned chief of police himself, all the while everyone is coming up with theories and plots and arguing. So much fucking arguing among this lot.

It gets to be too much pretty quickly, day five in this place and he’s already having to jump back into some of the worst things that ever happened to him. None of these people realize how big this is. Especially not the kids who just think it’s badass to fight monsters.

He leaves without telling anyone, or without anyone noticing among the chaos, to the back porch to light one up. There’re ashtrays all over the house he could use, but looming smoke in that cramped little kitchen wasn’t going to be any better than watching it curl upwards to the stars. So outside it was.

He leans against the wall, gaze fixing straight to what’s above him. He doesn’t notice the presence of another person until he hears them speak, startling slightly at the sound of a voice breaking the calm silence of a humid November night.

It’s Steve, sitting on a rusty and banged up glider at the opposite end on the porch, lit up just like he is. “So, uh. I guess you’re a part of this now?”

“I guess I am.”

Steve just nods and responds simply, effectively ending the conversation, “Right.”

But that’s not satisfying to Billy. He might appreciate peace more than what’s going on in that house, but he doesn’t like empty silence either. “What’re we all awkward like this for, Harrington? Spit out what you’re thinkin’.”

“I dunno, man.”

Billy frowns, prompting, “Come on. I know them gears are turnin’ over there. You've been quiet since we all got here.”

Steve looks away from him, but he does answer, “I dunno it’s just.. We’ve lost so much. People died because of this. People I knew. And I don’t like that anyone else is involved I guess.”

Billy scoffs, “Even me? You don’t even know me other than the asshole you met at the party last night.”

“So? What do you mean even you? I don’t want anyone anywhere near those fucking monsters. Could be my worst enemy and I’d still save them. I’d protect anyone from those things.” The haunted look behind his eyes, which seem so tired the longer Billy looks, tells Billy everything he needs to know.

He doesn’t mean to sound so soft when he asks, “What makes you so confident you can? Save ‘em I mean.”

“I fought a demogorgon myself. Well, not really by myself. Nancy and Jonathan were there. But I took a nail bat to its fucking face. Like hell I’d just let one of those things get anyone. Even you.” Steve

Billy flicks away his burnt out cigarette, sitting next to Steve on the old glider. “That’s real touching H, but I ain’t letting nobody sacrifice themselves for me. Need I remind you I’ve fought these assholes too.”

“But you told the kids you didn’t. Said it was all your friend.” Steve looks at him, sort of doubtful, but Billy blows off the remark, “No shit Sherlock. I ain’t airing all my business to any nosy brats like them.”

“I get that, but.. “ Hesitantly, he clarifies, “Is.. your friend, you know, even real?”

Billy must look at him like he grew a second head, “Shit, man, you think I’m one of those freaky experiments? No way. ‘Course he was real.”

“Oh. You said ‘was.’ Does that mean...” Steve’s voice trails off, sparing him hearing the words out loud.

“Don’t know. He got caught about two years back. Haven’t heard from him since. They might’a brought ‘im back here, they might’a killed him. I dunno.” Billy shrugs, picking at his nails while he talks so he doesn’t have to acknowledge Steve, or the fact that he’s even admitting this shit to him, “That’s why we’re here in Hawkins though. Susan’s got family over in Hope and a little ways up by Indie, so I suggested Hawkins. Just to come see where he came from. Get some closure I guess.”

“Guess he was really important to you then?” Steve smiles softly, but Billy only sighs through his nose, “You got no idea, Harrington.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll meet someone like him again.” He offers.

Somehow that sentiment immediately sets Billy on edge though, something about his tone implying that he knows, knows him and six were more than just friends, and Billy really doesn’t want to face that kind of monster tonight. He snaps, suddenly defensive, “What the hell’s that s’posed to mean?”

Steve’s face falls a little, evidently surprised by how upset Billy is, and he tries to fix it, “Oh I just thought that, the way you talked about him- and you look so sad when you do- that he was, you know, special to you.”

“So what? You gonna leave me to the monsters or some shit for that?” Billy growls, quickly warranting more defense from Steve, “What? No way. No I.. I get it, Billy. I do. More than you probably think I do.”

Billy half nods, his shoulders untensing as he slowly recognizes Steve’s genuinity. He mumbles eventually, working through what he needs to in his head to be comfortable talking openly with him again, “Didn’t expect to be getting relationship counseling too. That your assignment on the team, mister romance expert?”

“Shut up. You’ve never seen me swing a bat before.”

“Oh believe me, I cannot wait to.”

Steve’s smile returns, something Billy is personally glad for, though he might not be ready for that realization yet. He bumps their shoulders together, to hold Billy's attention and let him know he’s genuine, “Still, in all seriousness man, I hope you can find someone else like that for you. I know it’s not really easy pickings around here.”

This time, Billy’s tone is light, his features soft and vulnerable for the boy next to him, for the way he makes him feel less weighed down, less alone in this, “You got no idea, Harrington.”

#CherryLangeChallenge #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #ej writer #story by ej!#this is probably a disaster but I don’t care #season two au where literally none of the bad shit that happens happens except that the monsters are back #has my dialogue been too southern lately?#I feel like I’ve been writing Bills with an accent oopsie

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skullrock · 4 years ago

Text

the campers, chapter six

chapter five - the lost (and the found)

series summary: Steve gets a job as a camp counselor at Camp Know Where, intending on using the summer to discover himself. When things start to go wrong at camp, the only people that can help him are the Party, Hopper, and his mortal enemy - you. [Enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort]

chapter summary: Investigations into the disappearance of a camper ensue, while you and Steve confront your feelings.

warnings: swearin’ and some loving caressing

word count: 4.8k

a/n: you can catch up on the series here! romance and evil is in the air bbs

===

You wipe your tears away swiftly, instantly sobered at the reveal. “What?”

“Some kid,” Jen says. “He’s just… gone.”

You hop out of bed, anxiously tugging your shoes on. As you head outside, you notice all of the counselors booking it to the usual conference room. Steve’s made it there before you, a worried Mia gripping onto him. Your heart twists and you force your eyes away, towards the front, where Josh and a few other counselors are chatting hurriedly. Eventually, Josh claps once, the room going painfully silent.

“Today around five, a camper was reported missing by his friends. Brent Albright. He’s twelve, about four foot eight, skinny little thing. He was last seen playing in the woods about a hundred yards from campus.”

Steve stiffens. He knows Brent - and he knows the resemblance to Will Byers is uncanny. His mind wanders to when Will went missing, his stomach flipping.

“We have a search party going out as soon as the local law enforcement gets here. Some of you need to stay behind to keep watch of the other kids. We’re upping the security on site - we’ll have two people patrolling all night, each night. At least until we find Brent.”

The teams separate, you and Mia heading with the search party while Steve books it for Dustin’s cabin, scared of what he might find.

===

Luckily, by the time Steve gets to Dustin’s room, the rest of the Party is there, Suzie included. Steve halts at this, shutting the door slowly. His eyes dart between Suzie and Dustin pointedly.

“Relax, she knows,” Dustin says, very nonchalantly, everyone else seemingly on board with this.

Steve lets out a noise of frustration, surprise, and anger. “You told her?”

“When it was safe to!” Dustin defends.

Steve rests his hands on his hips, sighing in frustration and anger again. “Well, great. That’s really just great.”

Dustin’s face contorts in anger. “Uh -”

“Look,” Steve interjects, turning to Suzie. “You’re great - lovely gal, really - but I don’t -”

“What’s the problem?” Lucas pipes up.

Steve turns to him quickly. “Oh, of course you’re defending him, since you let Max in on the little secret, too -”

“Hey!” Max shouts, brows furrowed in anger.

“Don’t get so upset, you know you’re my favorite -”

“Hey,” El says.

“Alright - you too -” And Steve stops when he sees Will’s face, ghostly pale and frightened.

Steve and Mike are beside him first, Mike wrapping an arm around his shoulders while Steve kneels in front of him. “Hey, are you okay?”

He nods uncertainly. His hand slowly reaches for the back of his neck, and he shakes his head. “I don’t… feel him.”

“The Mind Flayer?” Mike clarifies.

“Yeah. I can’t feel him.”

The tension in the air evaporates slightly at this. Everyone had the same thought - what if it was the Upside Down again? It seemed to follow them everywhere, year after year. It wouldn’t be much of a shock if it had infiltrated their lives at camp.

“See? I told you it was nothing,” Lucas says. “It’s just some kid that got lost. I’m sure they’ll find him.”

Will winces slightly at the words and Steve frowns. “It’s not just some kid, Lucas. There’s… bears and shit out there. He’s lost and alone.”

Everyone goes quiet, staring down at the ground - well, everyone except Suzie, who’s still not completely sure if everyone is bullshitting her or not.

“Can you feel anything, El?” Mike asks.

She furrows her brows as if concentrating. “I can’t tell… I feel like something’s there, but I don’t know what.”

Steve stiffens, but the others seem unphased.

“That could mean anything,” Dustin says.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit too convenient for this to be happening here?” Steve asks, annoyed.

“It really could be anything, though,” Max says slowly. “I mean, he really could have gotten lost in the woods. They can be tricky.”

Mike stares at her as if she’s an idiot, but Steve nods gently in response. “They’re not as bad as the ones at home, but they can be disorienting….”

“I don’t think we should worry unless something’s definitely wrong,” Lucas says. “Like, without a doubt, weird shit happening.”

Steve feels nauseous. “I just took a hike in the woods… something wasn’t right there.”

“What do you mean?” Will asks anxiously.

“It got so quiet,” Steve explains. “There wasn’t a sound. And a deer got so close to us… something just didn’t seem right.”

Everyone goes quiet again, contemplating.

“Well, it could have been a bear,” Suzie says, her high pitched voice piercing the silence. “I mean, animals get quiet to avoid predators, and there are definitely predators in the woods here.”

Steve gives a half-hearted shrug, and his eyes wander back to Will. He seems tense, his jaw locked, and Steve’s eyes meet his. At the look of fear and worry in his eyes, Steve stands, deciding to be the voice of reason. There’s no need to worry the kids when things may just be unfortunate, but not hellish.

“You know, you’re right,” he says, running a hand through his long hair. “It’s probably nothing. Brent really may have just gotten lost. Until we know, let’s assume it’s an accident, okay?”

Everyone nods reluctantly, shoulders falling and breaths exhaled. Will’s eyes soften, but he still looks unsure. Steve gives him a reassuring smile and squeezes his shoulder. Will tries to return the smile, but it’s weak - Steve’s heart hurts. As the kids begin to disperse and talk among themselves, Steve pulls Will to the side.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “I’m not letting anything hurt you, or anyone else.”

Will freezes slightly. “I - I know.”

Steve always had a hard time talking to Will, genuinely not knowing what to do or say or how to act around him. He’s been through so much that Steve views him like an ancient artifact, too fragile to touch and too experienced to match.

“Your friends have your back, too,” he adds, albeit awkwardly. “Just - don’t feel unsafe. We’ll all protect you.”

Will nods, relaxing slightly, and he does something he hasn’t done with Steve before - he holds out his hand to shake. Steve takes it, confused but intrigued. They simply shake hands, Will giving him a warm smile, and then he walks off to the rest of the party. Steve’s brows quirk but he smiles, feeling accomplished - and then his heart plummets again as the reality of the situation sets in.

He wishes he could spend the night with the Party, truthfully. He’s a bit jealous that Will and Mike have each other in a room. Steve has Nico, but he’s pretty sure Nico was wigged out when Steve woke him up with a shout the night he had a nightmare. Steve’s face burns in embarrassment just at the memory. Hopefully the search party would be out for a while; Steve always felt safer when others were awake, able to protect him as he let his guard down. And then his mind wanders to Mia, hoping she’s doing okay, and then to you.

Steve feels a bit lightheaded when he thinks of you. The time at the waterfall felt like days ago, but it was only a few hours. He feels guilt for not checking on you sooner, for not catching you before you went to scour the woods. And he remembers your reaction to his in the woods, how scared and anxious you seemed. The guilt pumps thickly through his veins and he sets a reminder to check on you in the morning - you were sure to have a long night.

Steve leaves the room as the Party continues to talk. He’s unable to even decipher the words they’re saying - he just wants to be in his little cot, curled up and safe under blankets. Dustin once again catches him as he’s leaving, though, grabbing Steve and forcing him to stop.

“What’s your problem?”

Steve opens his mouth to ask Dustin to elaborate, but remembers what he said about Suzie’s knowledge of the situation. His gaze hardens. “You shouldn’t be telling people about this. That’s putting your life in danger, and hers, too.”

“So I’m just supposed to act like nothing ever happened? I’m supposed to never tell her?”

Steve sighs. “That’s not what I’m saying -”

“That’s what it sounds like -”

Steve’s anger flares. “I’m saying that maybe you shouldn’t be giving life altering information to a girl you’ve been dating for what? Six months?”

“We’ve been dating for over a year, Steve!”

“You could get her and her family killed over this, Dustin -”

“Just because you won’t open up to people that love you doesn’t mean that I can’t!”

Steve stills, his anger deflating and replaced with sorrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, but he knows exactly what it means, and he doesn’t like being called out on it.

“You’ve avoided new friends this entire time because you refuse to have any type of meaningful conversations with anyone except those you share trauma with.” Dustin’s eyes are narrowed onto Steve, even though Steve attempts to look away. “Have you even told Mia?”

“Of course not,” Steve spits, anger coming back. “I’ve only been seeing her for like, a week -”

“Then what about Y/N?”

Steve scoffs, but he panics. “No.”

“Did you want to?”

“You don’t understand,” Steve stresses, forcing a change in subject. “You read what we had to sign. We aren’t supposed to tell people about this. Anyone! Not our parents or our partners -”

“I know what we signed!” Dustin interjects. “But there’s nothing wrong with telling someone you trust about this. And there’s definitely nothing wrong with opening up to people in general.”

“I’m not like you, Dustin.”

Dustin squints. “No shit.”

“So hop off my shit, okay?”

“Whatever,” Dustin huffs. “Just - go be alone, up on… up in your little King Steve palace -”

“Yeah? Fine, I will!”

“Fine!”

Steve turns on his heel and sulks off into the dark, anxiety creeping in as the light from the cabin dims and is replaced with the steel curtain of night.

===

The search party finds nothing the first week.

It’s a gruesome task, sifting through the woods, finding no leads. Park Rangers and local law enforcement came in to set up an investigation. Rumors spread amongst the campers and counselors in regards to closing, but there were only two weeks left, and it was only one kid. Instead, a curfew was established, and counselors took turns patrolling the grounds in pairs at night.

It was, to say the least, a very stressful time. Your neck and back hurt from bending over in the woods for hours on end the first week, desperately trying to find any signs of the kid. You felt sick the entire week, hardly able to teach your classes, and hardly able to keep the kids’ attention. You noticed the stress was working hard on other’s, too - Steve and Mia had hardly talked, and you’d only briefly caught up with Steve. He had been spending most of the week patrolling the camp. He couldn’t sleep much even if he tried.

Friday, six days after the incident, things seemed to settle down. The camp had pretty much come to the conclusion that it was a freak accident, that the kid probably was attacked by a bear in the vicinity. Some kid’s parents had them leave early, and some came to hotels and motels nearby to be closer to their kids. One of these people was Jim Hopper, who volunteered to team up with local law enforcement to teach everyone about wilderness safety.

Steve knew why Hopper was really here, though - to keep an eye on Will and El. He’d promised Joyce he had it under control; he just wanted to take some precautions. Steve wasn’t sure if Hopper’s presence in the area was comforting or horrifying, but he figured it was the former. At least he didn’t have to be the only adult here. And the kids felt safer with him too, at least.

Friday night, a counselor proposed a bonfire to help everyone relax and unwind. You decided to go, if for nothing more than to just talk - it had been a lonely and tense week. You also, of course, hoped Steve would be there. You hardly caught a glimpse of him all week, only once out on the lake in his kayak.

When you do see him, you almost wish you hadn’t.

Steve hadn’t slept in at least four days. The last night he slept - Sunday, he thinks - had been filled with Demogorgons and gore and hopelessness. Calling Robin on the payphone only did so much (and he couldn’t reveal much over the phone), and while he and Dustin had reconciled, Steve didn’t want to overwhelm the kids with his worry. He wanted to be strong and brave for them, but he could hardly be that for himself. So he strolls up to the bonfire, looking ragged and ghastly, almost like a ghost. His frame is thin and he’s pale, his under eyes purple and puffy.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe, walking up to him. “You look like Dracula.”

“He’s sexy, right?” he jokes, a weak smile on his face.

You blush and roll your eyes, still frowning with worry. “Have you slept?”

He shakes his head gently. “Haven’t really got the chance.”

Your brows quirk. “Haven’t got the chance, or haven’t let yourself?”

Steve’s impressed with how easily you see through his bullshit. He shrugs. “Maybe both.”

You guide him to sit with you on a long log by the fire. You have to force yourself to not hold him, but it’s very difficult. You were so worried about him, about his zombie-like appearance. But you didn’t want to pass any boundaries - you weren’t totally sure if he was still with Mia or not.

Almost like he read your mind, Steve speaks up. “Mia is patrolling tonight.”

“Oh.” It’s all you can say. You want to ask if he’s seen her, if they’re still a thing, if you have a chance, but you instead focus on the fire.

The night goes on, and you talk with some of the other counselors. Conversation is light but weary, and the alcohol two boys had snuck in was gone within the first thirty minutes. You turn to ask Steve if he wants a drink, but you’re met with his head resting on your shoulder. You didn’t even notice that he’d clocked out, and your brows furrow while your stomach fills with butterflies.

You contemplate whether or not you should wake him up - he obviously needed the rest. You let him stay there, continuing to mingle, but staying perfectly still so that he didn’t wake up.

Steve’s eyes finally open around midnight, as the fire is taming down. He sits up and looks around, dazed and confused, before realizing that you’re beside him. He blinks in surprise. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I didn’t want to wake you up, so I….”

He stretches, his shirt riding up his stomach, revealing a sliver of skin. You pull your eyes back to the burning embers.

“You must be like a sleeping pill or something,” he says, voice slurring from sleep. “Really knocked me out.”

Your lips quirk up. “Maybe I’m just boring.”

Steve knows it’s not because you’re boring; it’s because he’s comfortable with you. The moment he sat down beside you, he felt safe and protected. It allowed him to let his guard down just long enough to slip into a dreamless sleep, and that’s really all he could ever ask for.

He doesn’t vocalize this, though. He doesn’t know how to. “No, not boring. Just warm.”

It makes no sense and perfect sense at the same time. You blush and look down, wishing he was still leaning on you. Steve scoots away from you and you frown, the absence feeling like you’ve lost something.

“Hey,” you whisper. “Want me to walk you back to your cabin?”

He nods slowly, sleep clouding his vision. You stand and he grabs your hand, using it to help him get up. You laugh slightly and start walking him towards his cabin, staying close beside him. Something about him made you feel safe - whether it was your crush on him or just Steve, you weren’t sure.

“This sucks,” he says, breaking the silence.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, it all sucks,” he clarifies, “but I mean that it sucks that I know I can’t sleep tonight, and they won’t let me do rounds anymore.”

“That’s because you need sleep,” you say gently. “You have to rest.”

“But I can’t.” His tone almost sounds like he’s amused. Steve looks off into the distance, at the treeline, sinister in the night. “God, trauma sucks.”

You don’t know what to say to make it better, so you snake your hand down to his, lacing your fingers again. Steve hums and relaxes, his shoulders dropping and his pace slowing. It’s almost an enjoyable walk, just the two of you in silence, nothing else but the wind and the lake lapping the shore behind you.

You slow as you reach his cabin, and Steve becomes stiff once again. His brows furrow with worry, and you notice.

“You’re safe,” you whisper.

He shakes his head, frowning. “I know….”

Steve turns to face you then, and you both stand like this, facing each other, faces illuminated by the moonlight. You think he looks so pretty, so beautiful, even with the bags under his eyes. You wish he’d kiss you, embrace you and tell you that you mean something to him.

And Steve, in his sleep deprived state, also begins to realize just how pretty you are, too. It’s something he’s always known, even when he was a jerk. Something fond to think about, at least one beautiful thing from his youth. His brows twitch as he looks down at you, at your soft eyes, the care and adoration held within them.

Steve’s realization doesn’t hit him quite the same as yours did. It’s almost like a slow rush, like finishing a puzzle. Dots begin to connect, memories come back, and he realizes that, holy shit, he likes you. He likes you a lot. He’s liked you for years. The good things he’s remembered - they were because of his affection for you. That’s why he remembers your laugh and your pigtails and your blue beaded bracelet. That’s why he forced away the icky, dirty things.

Because he liked you. And he always has.

While he’s processing this, you’ve formed a bit of a plan. You’re nervous to ask, but you do anyway. “What if you spent the night with me?”

Steve’s long streak of thoughts comes to a halt, crashing, his mind left blank. His brows knit together. “What?”

You blush and step back, almost like you’re stepping back behind a boundary. “I just - you slept so well earlier - maybe if we were together… we’d sleep better?”

Steve blinks. “Oh.”

“Forget -”

“No, let’s do it,” he whispers, rushedly. “I… I think that’s a good idea.”

Steve sees the adoration and care in your eyes, but he can’t imagine it has any weight to it. You never let on that you liked him. So this situation is almost a win-win for him; he can pretend for one night that the universe is in place and not out to get him, and he can get some rest.

“Are you sure?” you ask, barely audible.

He nods. “I’d really like some sleep.”

“Jen’s patrolling tonight,” you whisper. “I can - we can - sneak you in.”

Steve smiles lazily. “I’ve always said I’m like a ninja.”

===

Sharing a bed with your crush is not as phenomenal as the movies make it out to be.

Steve’s pressed himself up against the wall, as far away from you as the twin bed would allow him to be. You lay on your back, eyes wide. It’s an awkward situation, and you nearly regret suggesting it. You lay like this for twenty minutes, then forty, and then it’s two a.m, and you can still hear Steve’s rapid breathing beside you.

“Steve,” you whisper.

“Hmm?”

You blink up at the ceiling while cursing yourself. Your hands ball into fists beside you and you finally croak, “You can come closer.”

You hear his breath hitch. “I… I’ll smother you.”

You roll your eyes. “C’mon, Steve.”

It’s a minute before he rolls over, facing you, his body touching yours. You both feel like a jolt of electricity has been shot through you, and you wince before melting into each other.

You will yourself to stay on your back. Even while you can feel Steve’s warm brown eyes on your temple. You can feel his warm torso on your arm, too, the skin of his forearm close to the side of your head. Temptation wins, though, and you roll over to face him.

Your breath catches, like you’ve been hit by something massive. Steve looks so peaceful here. You take the time to notice some things you hadn’t before, since you’d never been this close. The stray hairs under his brows, how long his lashes are. How pink his lips are, how straight his nose is. You notice a scar on his right brow and reach out to touch it gently with your fingertips. “What’s this?”

“Scar,” he whispers.

“What happened?”

Steve swallows hard and shakes his head. “You should see the rest of them.”

You frown and drop your hand, but Steve gently picks it back up, placing it on his cheek. He looks at you softly, asking for permission, and you cup his cheek. Your thumb rubs across his cheekbone and his eyes flutter shut. Your heartbeat is through the roof, and it only gets worse when Steve reaches out to pull you in to him. You blush, both from attraction and embarrassment, because he can surely feel your heart beating rapidly against his chest.

“Where else?” you ask, voice shaking.

His brow quirks. “Hm?”

“Where else are there scars?”

He pauses, contemplating, but remembers but Dustin had told him. There’s nothing wrong with opening up to people. So he lifts his right hand, where it had punched Billy Hargrove years earlier, a cut on his knuckle turning into a silver stripe. You pull your fingers away from his cheek and to the scar, touching it gently. You want to kiss it - God, you want to kiss it so much - but you pull your lips into a thin line instead.

Steve drops his hand and it goes for his shirt, his fingertips rubbing gently over his ribs. “Here.”

You wonder what the hell had happened to him. You don’t ask; instead, you move your hand slowly to the hem of his shirt. You look at him and he nods, giving you permission to run the pads of your fingers to the area. His eyes flutter shut again and he focuses in on the feeling of your fingers, caressing him gently, almost lovingly. It feels nice to let someone touch him like this. Not sexual, not even romantic - just with care.

You lick your lips and feel his skin, soft and warm, a little uneven in the area where he’d been brutalized the year before. Steve opens his eyes to watch your face before his eyes trail down to your arm, pushed up under his shirt. His heart speeds up and you can feel it, hard and fast under your fingertips. You pull away at that, blushing once more, your heart rate beating in time with his.

Steve’s tongue darts out and he studies your expression. You look peaceful. Maybe a bit confused, but peaceful. In place. His hand reaches up to his lip slowly, another place that he’d been hit before. His finger lays lightly on a small scar that spreads from the corner of his bottom lip and down. He stares at you the entire time, almost painfully, like he has something he wants to say. You only reach out and replace his finger, rubbing the small mark gently.

You want to ask him what you’re both doing. It’s a weird dance, almost. It’s laced in something beyond friendship and sealed with a bow, but what it is, you’re not sure. Your hand moves away from his face and you finally look down. Your eyes stay focused on his grey shirt, at the pattern of the fabric.

“I have a hell of a concussion, too,” Steve whispers.

You look back up at him and smile. “Maybe that’s why you’ve forgotten so much.”

He frowns slightly. “Maybe.” He pauses for a beat. “Do you have any?”

“Scars?”

He nods.

You reach for his hand and pull it down towards your knee, to the scar you’d shown him at the waterfall. His fingertips press into it gently, and there’s a pained look on his face. “I wish I could take it away.”

You frown. “You can’t.”

“Wish I could.”

You wish so, too. But his fingers rubbing soothingly on it almost takes it away; if not physically, than emotionally.

Steve’s hand wanders up your thigh and to your hip, gripping it just slightly. He almost looks like he’s pouting at you, and you’re not sure what it means. You just know you like the touch. You know you want to kiss him, and you know you can’t. It feels like you’re drowning, or intoxicated at the feeling of his hand on you, soft and strong, just as it always felt in yours.

“Hey,” you say. “You should get some sleep.”

His hand falls from your body and onto the sheets. He nods and his brows furrow for just a millisecond. “I… can you….” He clears his throat. “Can you stay close to me?”

You think it’s funny that he can’t say hold me, but you relent. You wrap your arms around him and he melts into you once again, feeling safe. It’s only a few moments later when you both fall asleep.

===

Steve sneaks out before the sun rises, leaving the bed beside you empty and cold. You’re sober this morning. You’re pretty sure you should not have shared a bed with him, or touched him - is that considered cheating? Are you an asshole? You reckon you’ll find out.

You officially get up a few hours later, pulling on your uniform lazily. Your stomach flips at the thought of Steve, and then flips again when you open your door to find Mia.

You know immediately that she knows. She must have seen him leaving when she was patrolling.

“Mia….” It’s all you can manage to croak out.

She laughs, warm and gentle. “I’m not mad.”

You blink. You lick your lips and shake your head, massively confused. “Are we thinking of the same thing?”

She comes into your room and you shut the door slowly, still quite confused. She sits on the bed and looks up at you. She looks wise and all-knowing. “I knew you had a thing for him.”

“I didn’t,” you protest.

She tilts her head. “C’mon. Remember when I saw you staring at him on the lake?”

You sigh and cross your arms. “I didn’t think I did.”

“We all knew,” Mia says matter-of-factly. “Everyone except you.”

You scoff. “Who’s everyone?”

“Em, Syl, Jen, Brooke, Syd, Kara… even Josh knew. Why do you think he set you up at the beginning?”

“What?” you ask, shocked. “I wasn’t - I never - I never liked him at the beginning -”

“Maybe not,” Mia smiles. “I guess he really just saw the potential.”

You roll your eyes and Mia beckons you to sit down beside her. She wraps an arm around you and leans into you. “I just wanted to see him for fun, you know. See if he was a good kisser. It wasn’t anything serious.”

“So you’re not mad?”

She sighs. “I’ll miss that boy’s lips and hands, but I’m not mad. We would have called it quits when camp was over. It was just a fling.”

You both sit in silence for a few moments before she speaks again. “You should really go for it.”

Your heart jumps to your throat. “I don’t think….”

“He likes you, too,” she says. “I’m pretty sure of it.”

You look at her with a frown. “I couldn’t do that to you.”

She smiles. “I’m just happy I was right. You do like him.”

You can’t help but to smile back. “Were there bets going?”

“Oh, yeah,” she says. “Brooke owes me ten dollars because she thought you’d never actually admit it. But I knew you would.”

You hug her then, relief flowing through you. Then you pull away and shove her. “I can’t believe you placed bets -”

The door swings open and Jen is there again, panting once more, eyes filled with fear. You and Mia jump up.

“Did you find him?” you breathe.

Jen shakes her head. “No. Another camper is missing.”

===

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#steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #the campers #my fics

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ihni · 4 years ago

Text

A cock named Phil, #9: Scared

The Party (“plus Billy”, as Dustin insisted on adding, still refusing to let Billy join officially) were gathered in the Wheeler basement for game night. But this time, it wasn’t for Dungeons and Dragons. No, this time, it was to break in the Ouija board that they had found at the junk yard.

It was October, after all. The month of Halloween. The nights were getting real dark, now, and it was getting colder out. Sitting in a cozy basement, they weren’t exactly affected by either the dark or the falling temperatures of autumn, but they had turned the lights down low and lit a couple of candles to set the mood.

Mike, Lucas, Dustin, Will, Max and Steve were all seated around the table where they had set up the board. Steve was rolling his eyes, but had let himself be talked into it, after Billy gave him a pointed look and asked, “You’re not chicken, are you?”

“If I join in, will you shut up with the bird jokes?”

His boyfriend had only grinned in lieu of an answer, which probably meant ‘no’.

While the rest of them set up, Billy and El had plopped down in the couch by the wall, content to be watching.

(“What, you’re not gonna join in?” Steve had asked, to which Billy had laughed and replied:

“Not on your life, Harrington. Me and El, we’re too cool for this shit.” It elicited a couple of loud protests from the rest of the kids, but El smiled sweetly so Billy just leaned back and made himself comfortable with a smug look on his face.)

They had agreed to start off with simple questions, which Will had written down on a piece of paper, as he was the one to read them out loud. If there had been a planchette somewhere at the junk yard, they hadn’t found it, so instead they used a piece of wood that Mike had sawed and whittled into a similar shape (and his fingers held band aids as evidence of his work). Now, they all held their fingers on the piece of wood, and looked at Will in silence as he cleared his throat.

“Spirits … we humbly ask you to answer our questions. Can you hear us?”

They slowly started moving the home-made planchette across the board, as they were supposed to. With their help, it circled the board a couple of times, and eventually settled over ‘yes’.

“It works!”

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god!”

“This is so cool!”

“Guys, schhhh, next question!”

They all looked at Will again, who had gone a little pale but looked excited nonetheless.

“Okay”, he said, glancing nervously at the paper he’d written. “Okay. Um, what’s your name?”

Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths as the wooden piece slowly made its way across the board. Will’s voice was breathless as he read the letters out loud. “F … R … J …” He frowned. “’No’ … D … C … P.”

It stopped moving, and they glanced at each other. Lucas was the first one to try to pronounce it. “Frjnod-cee-pee?” He looked doubtful. “Doesn’t sound like a name.”

“Well what did you expect?” Dustin said. “You can’t expect a spirit to have a normal name. It probably just doesn’t use the same language as we do. Or the same alphabet!”

“Then how come it understands ‘yes’ and ‘no’?” Steve said, throwing Dustin a flat look.

Dustin sighed deeply and rolled his eyes. “It’s obviously bilingual, Steve! And besides, it makes sense that it doesn’t have a name like we do, if it’s not from around here.”

“Should we continue?” Will asked.

“Yeah!” Dustin decided, and got a determined glint in his eyes. “Let’s move on to the real questions. Spirit, what is the meaning of life?”

Will and Mike started protesting, saying that the question wasn’t on the list. Steve rolled his eyes again and Max elbowed Dustin in the side – but to everyone’s surprise, the piece of wood started moving under their fingers. Lucas spoke up.

“Uh, are you guys feeling this?”

This time, it moved differently from last time. There was no hesitation in the movements – it went straight for one corner of the board, only to change direction and move to another one.

“Are you guys doing this …?” Steve said, frowning, looking at each of the kids in turn. None of them looked back; too busy staring at the home-made planchette which was moving across the board, from corner to corner.

When it got to the last corner, it changed direction and went for the letters. The Party was stunned into silence, and stared at the board, eyes wide. No one dared to take their finger off the wood.

“C …”

A strange chill went through the room, making the occupants shudder.

“ … O …”

The flames on the candles flickered. Someone gasped.

As the piece changed direction again, Steve’s face did something complicated, and he looked across the room – over the heads of the kids at the table – and locked eyes with Billy.

“… C …”

Billy wiggled his eyebrows and licked his lips suggestively. As the wooden piece resolutely stopped at the last letter of the word, the Party turned as one to stare (or glare) at Billy in the couch. Billy kept a straight face for all of four seconds, before his face split in a grin and he started cackling, raising his hand in the air. To everyone’s surprise, El – wiping a small tendril of blood from under her nose –turned to return Billy’s high-five.

“’Cock’?” Steve said, an eyebrow raised. “Really?” That made Billy laugh even harder, so El was the one to reply.

“Yes”, she said. “Like Phil!”

As in Phil, Billy’s pet cock. Everyone’s shoulders sagged in relief, realizing that El’s and Billy’s associations of the word was very different.

She smiled brightly. “It was Billy’s idea.”

Steve turned to his boyfriend – who was helplessly gasping for breath now, holding his stomach with tears of mirth in his eyes – and said, deadpan, “You don’t say?”

(from this prompt list) (first) (previous) (AO3) (next)

#cocktober #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #stranger things #the party #a cock named phil #cocktober prompts #scared #ihni writes

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immortalitylostandfound · 5 years ago

Text

Storming the Castle

A Princess Bride AU by @gideongrace and @immortalitylostandfound

Starring:

Billy Hargrove as The Dread Pirate Roberts (Stable Boy)

Steve Harrington as Prince Steve

Tommy H. as Prince Tommy (Humperdinck)

Carol Talmadge as Countess Carol (The Six Fingered Woman)

Dustin Henderson as the Leader of the Party

Will Byers as The Giant

Lucas Sinclair as The Swordsman

Max Mayfield as The Lab Assistant

Mike Wheeler as Miracle Mike

Jane Hopper as Eleven (Miracle Wife)

Robin Buckley as Steve's Lady-In-Waiting

Playlist here!

Full work also on ao3!

Chapter 1: Teaser

Once upon a time...

A love story started as all stories do; at the beginning. It started with a horse, with a stable boy and his magic touch, and with a little pining on Steve’s part. Okay, maybe a lot of pining. Whoever said ‘the course of true love never did run smooth’ really wasn’t kidding, were they?

Chapter Two: The Stable Boy

Steve only knows the new guy his father had recently hired as Stable Boy, but the sheer amount of want that fills Steve every time he sees the guy could fill an entire ocean, no, the grand canyon, no, the ocean—whatever. The sheer force of Steve's longing for this guy he barely knows, this guy who sneers at nearly every person he comes across but who is always so achingly gentle with the horses, even with the spooked, rough, dangerous ones—especially with the spooked, rough, dangerous ones—is too much to bear. This guy whose hands seem to exist on some plane where magic exists, they must, because every time he lays those hands on one of the horses, no matter how panicked, no matter how lost, no matter how out of their mind gone, that horse always calms down almost instantly, within seconds, with a simple touch, and Steve doesn't know what else to call that but magic.

So, of course, Steve talks to the stable boy the only way he knows how. He gives orders. It’s what he was raised to do. It’s what his parents demand. He’s high born—or will be if his parents have anything to say about it—and he doesn’t know how to communicate with servants except by command. He learns this the first time his longing drags him to the stables. He opens his mouth, wanting to say hello. Wanting to ask a million and one questions. Instead he tells the stable boy to make ready his horse.

He doesn’t even want to ride—it’s cold and raining.

But the stable boy answers his request simply.

“No problem,” he says, and calm eyes blue as the sea, eyes that Steve has never seen except at a distance, meet his own. The stable boy nods. His eyes linger a moment too long. Then without another word he moves to fetch Steve’s horse.

When the horse is ready, Steve orders his thick cape fetched. Stalling. Again, those eyes on his. Again the simple words. “No problem—” But this time a smile is tacked on after. “Princess,” the stable boy finishes, near mocking but some gentle quality in the word stops it just short.

Steve gapes. No servant has ever dared talk to him with such insolence. His first instinct isn’t to punish the guy, though later he realizes it should have been, at least according to the rules laid down by society. His first instinct is to laugh. To grin. Maybe to blush a little, who’s to say?

“I could have you whipped,” he says, playfully. Can’t school his smile enough to intimidate.

The stable boy’s smile grows. Again comes the nod, this time exaggerated, carried on into a flourished bow. He speaks no more. Instead, Steve’s cape is fetched, quick as you please. And when the stable boy returns, that cape is fastened with the deft fingers of those possibly magical hands, is smoothed over Steve’s shaking shoulders with a touch that calms him instantly.

He mounts the horse with no more talk between them, dreading the rain. Takes one quick turn about the field and returns, possibly with the goal of testing this stable boy.

“Stable Boy,” he says, his horse clopping gratefully back into the barn, “Clean my horse. It’s filthy with mud.”

The nod again. The “no problem, Princess.” The grin. The stable boy whistles a tune while Steve watches him rub the horse clean, taking care to check it over thoroughly. He whispers secrets to it as he works. Sings low and melodious, just below hearing, as he walks it back to its stall.

Steve leaves before the stable boy can come back, lay eyes on him again. He longs for those lips to whisper secrets to him.

Every day he rides, ordering the stable boy to ready his horse and always looking for other odd jobs he can order done to lengthen their time together.

These orders are always met with a knowing smile. A look that lingers just that small bit too long. A nod. Those words.

“No problem, Princess.”

This ridiculous behavior continues as weeks drag into months. The stable boy never tires. Steve’s orders sound more and more like pleas to his own ears.

Please know I wish I could just talk to you. Please don’t grow to hate me. Don’t mistake this for pettiness, haughtiness. Please.

One day it all becomes too ridiculous. There’s some tool hanging directly above Steve in the stable rafters, in easy reach, and he finds he’s running out of chores to stretch their time together.

“Stable boy,” he begins as he always does. “Fetch me that tool.” He points upwards. Swallows. They both know he has no need of the tool in question.

The stable boy regards him calmly. Walks over, slow, purposeful, and leans close to reach the requested tool, never once breaking eye contact. He holds out the tool to Steve. Brushes his finger briefly against Steve’s as he passes the tool over.

“No problem, Princess,” he whispers.

But that’s not what it sounds like. He says those words, that “no problem,” like most would say “I love you.”

And it breaks Steve’s social paralysis.

“Thank you,” Steve whispers back. And in this, returns an I love you of sorts as well. As close as he can manage at the moment. As fully formed. His love shown in this gratitude.

“Thank you, Billy,” and the meaning is love, regardless of the words. Thank you for everything, he implies. For existing. The words aren’t enough to convey—

“You’re welcome,” Billy says, stopping Steve’s whirling thoughts. “Steve,” he adds with a half-grin.

And Steve laughs, something hard and cold in him breaking loose and melting away with the action. Melting away under magic hands that skim up to grip his arms as lips that whisper secrets come in close to brush Steve’s lips with half a kiss—wait for Steve to make it whole. Which he does. One whole kiss is born between them.

The first of many.

But a wise man once said that the course of true love never did run smooth.

So it is with their love.

It isn't long before Billy decides that he has to leave. If they are to truly be together forever, like they plan to be, the salary of a stable boy isn’t going to cut it.

It doesn't matter that Steve tells him he doesn't need to go, that Steve will inherit his father's land someday and he'll more than be able to provide for the both of them. No, Billy has to bring in his fair share of the money for the sake of his pride. To do that, he has to go out and find his fortune. It doesn't matter that Billy's little sister Max doesn't want him to go, either. Doesn't matter how Max begs or pleads. Doesn't matter that she cries. Billy is determined to go and he refuses to change his mind.

So, after many long conversations and many promises that he will absolutely, without a doubt be perfectly safe and will come home before Steve even knows it, Billy gets on a ship bound for lands unknown.

It isn't three months later that word reaches Steve of Billy’s ship. Word of an attack by pirates. Word that there are no survivors.

Steve becomes inconsolable at the news and for days he barely sleeps, barely eats, barely does so much as leave his room.

To have had everything he'd ever wanted and to lose it—he blames himself. He should never have let Billy go and he knows it.

Life holds no meaning with Billy gone.

And with the arrival of Prince Tommy, acting ruler of Florin, things only get worse.

The prince meets Steve one sunny day while both are out riding. Steve still goes, every day, his one moment of solace. He remembers. Every time he enters the stable and speaks to Billy’s replacement, he feels a fresh cut to that old wound. The pain helps him to remember. Helps to keep him alive, or something close to it.

On a ride, they meet. And in Steve’s beauty, in his utter lack of guile and gentle manner, Tommy sees a great opportunity.

He sends word to Steve’s parents that he means to have Steve for marriage. Steve’s parents, of course, are overjoyed at the news. The union Prince Tommy proposes will serve to fulfill their fondest grasping wish.

When Steve refuses Tommy’s offer, that dream seems to shatter. Steve’s father, in his anger, throws Steve from the house, disowning Steve and ordering him never to return.

It’s not long before Steve is found—picked up by the prince’s men and taken to the castle where he’s put in a room that though gilded, is no less a cage. Tommy once again asks for his hand. Asks in a way that makes his threat clear. And Steve, caring nothing for himself and even with their betrayal worried for his family’s safety should he refuse, accepts Tommy’s proposal.

Tommy, not feeling any true love for Steve, is glad nonetheless at the acquiescence. He has a scheme. Wants desperately to start a war with Guilder and in Steve, whose gentle manner and beauty will ensure the love of every subject, he has the perfect pawn to achieve his ends—or so Tommy’s trusted, six fingered advisor, Carol, informs him.

Killing Steve is such a simple, elegant means to his end. The death will enrage his subjects. They’ll demand he go to war to avenge him. It’s brilliant—he’s got to hand it to Carol.

Now all Tommy needs are some reputable assassins to convincingly frame Guilder.

Dustin and his Party, in desperate need of coin and with a solid reputation to stand on, accept the job.

“But we’re not killing him,” Will says, giant in stature but gentle in nature as he waits with the others, blocking the road.

“We’re definitely probably not going to have to kill him,” Dustin assures him.

“Maybe just cut him a little,” Lucas says, always eager to make use of his blade.

They wait for their chance to kidnap the beloved new prince.

It doesn't take long.

Today, as every day, they know that Prince Steve will pass on his daily ride through the king’s forest. He will be alone, as he is every day. He will be an easy mark.

Dustin steps out into the middle of the path, hands raised, stopping the Prince as he nears. “Sorry to bother you, but we're poor, lost circus performers,” Dustin says. “Is there a village nearby?”

“There’s nothing around here for miles, Kid,” Steve says, taking the trio in cautiously, not at all suspecting the terrible fate that's about to befall him.

“Cool,” Dustin says, grinning. “Then no one’s gonna hear you scream.”

And Will walks forward. Eyes closed, he knocks Steve out as gently as possible, then lifts him carefully from his horse.

They plant their evidence, shoo the horse on its way, and after that all that’s left is to set sail for Guilder’s coast, keeping an eye out for likely places to drop the body.

Will and Lucas make ready the ship, starting up a game that Dustin has had his fill of.

Rhyming. It had to be rhyming.

“Will, are there rocks ahead?” Lucas asks, grinning while coiling rope.

“If there are, we’ll all be dead!” Will calls back, hoisting the sail.

“No more rhymes now, I mean it!” Dustin complains.

“Anybody want a peanut?” Will asks.

It's going to be a long journey.

Chapter Three: Inconceivable!

Billy, fortunately, had been following after Steve all day and he follows the kidnappers to their ship, then follows as they head for Guilder, as they head for the Cliffs of Insanity and for once in his entire career as a Pirate, Billy finds himself glad to be without his usual crew, glad he'd taken this smaller ship alone to go and talk to Steve, to ask him why he was marrying that idiot Prince, why he hadn't waited. His usual crew would have asked too many questions and if he is to save Steve, there's no time to waste in answering them.

Slowly but surely, his ship gains on the kidnappers. His ship is smaller and sleeker (not to mention faster and better in nearly every way) so it isn't exactly hard to catch them but it is almost impossible to watch as Steve dives into the dangerous, eel infested waters and not abandon ship and dive in after him. From his spot at the ship's wheel Billy screams for Steve to get out of the water, even though he knows he's too far away to be heard, not that Steve would have listened to him anyway, even if he could have heard him, he's sure.

So he stands there, stuck behind his ship's wheel as he watches Steve get dragged back up onto the relative safety of the other ship. He watches as they continue towards the cliffs. He watches as the three men on board get off and two of them climb onto the shoulders of the ridiculously giant-sized one, watches and holds his breath as they grab Steve and watches as the giant starts to climb up a rope dangling from the top of the cliff to the bottom.

Billy watches all this, and he follows.

But not fast enough to catch up to the giant, even though the man was carrying three others plus himself. Again he finds himself forced to watch; watch as the man he loves is hefted, kicking and screaming up and over the wall where he can't yet follow.

“Inconceivable!” he hears someone shout.

Then, the rope falls away.

Well, that's inconvenient.

“Could you, maybe, I don’t know, climb faster?” a man waiting above calls down. If he was in such an awful hurry, he should have left the rope, shouldn’t he?

Whoever’s up there now isn’t the one he’d heard earlier. Which means that whoever had shouted the first time has probably already run off, probably with Steve in tow.

Well, who says a daring rescue should be easy? Where’s the fun in that?

Still….

“Could you maybe climb faster?” Billy mumbles under his breath. “Asshole.”

He jumps for the next handhold.

But when another rope comes down, his arms are so spent that he doesn’t think, just takes it.

Reaching the top, his impatient friend even allows him a breather. Descent of him.

“Pity you aren’t a woman,” the man says. Billy raises his brows. Some small talk. He sees Billy’s train of thought, waves it off.

“With your tenacity, I’d almost wish you were the one—if you were a woman. A six-fingered woman killed my father, you see, years ago. Over a sword he’d crafted for her. After so long searching for her, training to beat her—” he shrugs. “Well, it’d be nice if it was a challenge, you know?”

He stands. Draws his sword and practices his footwork, loathe to sit still too long, it would seem.

“I know just what I’ll say, if I ever meet her, too.” He takes his stance, facing off against some unseen foe. “‘Hello,’ I’ll say. ‘My name is Lucas Sinclair. You killed my father. Prepare to die.’”

“To the point,” Billy says. “I like it.”

He stands. Stretches.

“Shall we?”

“You seem a decent fellow,” Lucas says taking up stance again, this time focused on Billy. “I hate to kill you.”

He shrugs.

“You seem a decent fellow,” Billy says, smiling, taking a stance to match. “I hate to die.”

The cocky sonovabitch is pretty good with a sword, too, once they finally get down to business.

Too bad for him, Billy is better. Left handed or right.

But he doesn’t kill the man, who waits for death, unarmed and bested. Can’t kill him—skill like his is a work of art. However—

“Can’t have you following me,” he says over the unconscious swordsman’s body. “Nothin personal.”

And onward he rushes after Steve.

Only his catlike reflexes save him from the boulder careening for his head.

“I could’ve killed you if I wanted,” the surprisingly bashful rock chucker says. The giant wields another huge rock like a baseball. “I missed on purpose.”

Well shit, this is gonna slow Billy down.

“Let’s kill each other like men?” he tries.

“No weapons?” the giant says. “Sportsmanlike?”

“Sportsmanlike.” Billy nods.

The next five minutes include much rolling, ducking, and being crushed between a literal rock and the hard back of a giant that didn’t want to be strangled into unconsciousness.

Once the giant finally does drop, Billy takes a moment to rest, standing over the large snoring man. He rubs at his aching shoulder. Cracks his stiff neck.

“No weapons,” he mutters to himself. “Idiot. Ow, fuck.”

And onward he rushes, limping just a bit, after Steve.

till he reaches a clearing and a smug little man, sat at a makeshift little table, Steve blindfolded at his side. A stupid little grin rests on the man’s stupid little face, but Billy ignores it, more concerned with Steve and with looking him over carefully, assessing him for injuries as best he can. Steve seems fine, but it's impossible to tell without asking him and he certainly can't do that right now.

He watches as the fool's lips move, blathering on and on about... something to do with how smart he thinks he is, how Billy can never, ever, not in a million years ever hope to best him at a game of wits and Billy decides to suggest a game.

"This," Billy says, pulling a small pouch from his pocket, "is Iocane powder. It's terribly poisonous. I'll put some of it in one of these glasses of wine here—" he pauses as he grabs the two wine glasses that have been set out before them—though why anyone would stop to set up a nice picnic lunch with wine during a kidnapping, he'll never understand, not if he lives to be a hundred. "And we'll see if you're smart enough to figure out which glass it's in. If you win, you keep the prince and you get to watch me die. If I win, I get the prince and get to watch you die. Fair?"

The fool smiles, his long, brown curly hair bouncing as his head bobs up and down.

"Oh, this'll be fun," he says brightly, like he's excited, like stupid games of chance are what he lives for but also like he has no idea that's what's really going on.

Billy nods back once, succinctly, and turns around to pour the poison into the wine.

"Here we go," he says as he puts the glasses back on the table and slowly pushes one towards the other man. "Now which one has the poison in it?"

"That's easy," the man says. "It's clearly not in the cup you're pushing towards me, that'd be too obvious."

"So your choice is the one I put closest to me?"

"Not quite! I know I can't pick that one either, because—" the man keeps going but Billy stops listening. The man is terribly dull and Billy is already starting to regret not just stabbing him and being done with it. This game isn't nearly as much fun as he'd thought it would be. That and he can't keep his eyes off of Steve and the way he's just sitting there, silent and still, not reacting at all. Weird behavior, so unlike the Steve that Billy remembers, always so vibrant, so loud, so bossy. It's different even just from the way Steve had been kicking and screaming as the giant had dragged him up the side of the cliff less than an hour ago and Billy can't help but wonder if maybe Steve doesn't know who he is, if Steve can't recognize his voice after all this time. Which... might very well be the case.

He wishes for it not to be true, but he'd be lying if he said that after the years they've been apart that there aren't some details about Steve that have gotten fuzzy for him, too. Like he can no longer remember the exact sound of Steve's laugh or the exact feeling of Steve's skin under his fingers. Because for all that he's dreamed and dreamed of both, those exact details as well as a few others have gotten hazy, like a painting that had been stared at for too long.

But this idiot. He's still going, just talking and talking in circles about which cup to choose. He's taking so long that Billy is just about to give up and stab him when the man finally picks a glass, gathering it up carefully in one hand and swirling it like this is some fancy wine tasting and not a game of choose-your-death.

"You know..." the man says slowly before sipping the wine. "It really was very foolish of you to engage me in a game like this. You have no chance against my superior intellect."

Billy smiles. "Is that so?"

"It absolutely is. You've—" the man's words cut off mid-sentence as the poison spreads throughout his body. One second he's alive—heart beating, lungs taking in air, mouth moving and emitting ceaseless noises and words like if it ever stopped he'd die on the spot and the next he's a corpse, skin losing heat and color as his body begins disposing all unnecessary wastes as that heart and those lungs stop moving. He gives one last shuddering breath and that's it. He's dead. Finito. Kaput. Worm food.

"Well," Billy says, his eyes landing back on Steve and drinking him in slow, like Steve is a drink he's been dying for for years. "I guess that means we can go." He waits, expecting... well, something, some reaction, anything, from Steve now that the kidnappers are all gone but instead he gets nothing. No reaction at all. With the worst sort of sinking feeling in his gut he realizes that Steve really doesn't have even the slightest clue who he is. Steve doesn't recognize him at all. He walks over and jerks the blindfold down to hang around Steve’s neck. Looks Steve in the eye.

“Who are you,” Steve asks, uninterested.

Billy keeps his face blank.

“I’m someone you ought not to fuck with,” he says. He hauls Steve up to standing.

Maybe, if Steve doesn't recognize him, maybe he'd been wrong all along. Maybe Steve had never loved him. Maybe Steve had been glad to be rid of him. Maybe Steve loved his Prince. A Prince—much more suitable marriage material than a stable boy ever was or could be.

With a hard glare and rage boiling over in his stomach, Billy grunts, “Move."

Steve does as asked silently and without complaint.

Chapter Four: No problem, Princess

After some time and much running, they take a tense rest at the top of a great hill. Billy throws Steve down near a fallen tree and watches the royal bastard try to get comfortable. Sees that Steve’s eyes are still locked on him, full of hate. Steve had been staring as they moved, taking Billy in with hard eyes and Billy’s sick of that look on Steve’s face. He wants to tell Steve the truth. No, he wants to drag the hurt out a bit so Steve can feel one iota of the pain Billy’d had to endure at Steve’s hand. Betrayed. Betrayed so cruelly, after dying and being reborn a richer man, all for Steve, only to come back to find him marrying some prince. Impatient.

It’s a torment. Steve here, staring at him like this, with such loathing, unable to recognize his voice, his touch. A torment.

“You’re him, aren’t you?” Steve accuses.

You’re him. Could Steve see after all? See, beneath the mask, some sign of the man he’d claimed to love so deeply?

“Possibly,” Billy says, annoyed, doubting, “Who’s him?”

“Oh, shut up, you’re The Dread Pirate Roberts. Admit it.”

Guess not.

Billy bows. “Proud to. At your service, Princess.”

“Princess,” Steve says softly, eyes drifting far before sharpening with his tongue. “Don’t call me that."

It was worth a try. Still, nothing. No recognition. He’d stop playing this painful game if Steve would just give him one tiny—

“And if you’re at my service,” Steve says, “you can fuck off and die already.”

Billy clutches his chest. “Ouch,” he says solemnly. He tries not to smile, the hidden smile hiding real pain. “No really, that hurts.” He wanders closer. “What did I ever do to you?”

Steve tilts his head up, staring without seeing.

“Killed the man I love. How 'bout that.”

“Well,” Billy says, tilting his head. “I kill a lot of people. Have to be a little more goddamn specific, there, Princess. Was your love another Prince like this one? That your type?”

Billy has to try hard to keep the longing, the pain, the old reverence out of the word. Princess. He pins up a cruel smile. Lounges against a log, opposite. Steve doesn’t deserve to see his pain.

“Stop calling—” The words come out hot and hard but he deflates mid-word. Eyes travel leagues again as he stares off.

"He was poor,” Steve breathes, suddenly sounding far away. “Poor. Perfect. But he thought I—” A small, sad smile blooms. “He had eyes like the sea after a storm. And he left, out across the sea, because he thought I—”

His eyes find Billy’s again. Flinty.

“Doesn’t matter. Your ship attacked his, out of all the goddamn ships on the ocean. And The Dread Pirate Roberts never takes prisoners.”

“Can’t afford to look soft,” Billy says, keeping his voice light, sharp smile in place. “People get word, start getting cocky, after that it’s nothing but too much work. Easier just to kill everybody.”

Steve stares, openmouthed, so much hurt in his eyes for a beat. But soon enough he swallows it down. Gets ahold of himself. Gets angry.

“Oh, that’s cute. I’m in pain and you’ve got jokes.”

Billy clicks his tongue and all the humor drains out of his voice. “Life is pain, Princess.” Billy knows that all too well. “Deal with it.”

He gets up. Plucks a blade of grass and twirls it thoughtfully.

“I remember him, I think,” he begins. “This perfect, poor, idiot of yours.”

Steve refuses to look.

“He died like a man. Didn’t beg. What he did do was ask me to spare him.” Billy pauses, remembering. “Please, he said.”

And Steve’s eyes raise to his. Billy pushes the pain aside to hold that gaze.

“Lucky for him that I killed him when I did. He kept goin' on and on about his true love. Kept describing someone. Guess it had to have been you.”

Billy looks down on Steve, mouth hard.

“Guess I spared him a lot of disappointment, huh?”

Steve stands.

“You think this is fucking funny?”

Billy crowds up closer.

“Kept going on about how faithful you were,” he says, teeth clenched. “How you were waiting for him.”

“Shut up!” Steve yells.

“How long did you wait when Prince Tommy came knocking, huh? An hour? A week?”

“What did it matter?” Steve yells. Then he deflates. “I was already dead. I died that day, when he died out on the ocean I…”

Horse hooves galloping in the distance catch Billy’s attention. Fuck.

“…and you can die too, asshole.”

There's a shove from behind and Billy's tumbling hard down the hill.

And words slip out. The only words he can think to say.

“No—” Pain blooms in his shoulder. “Problem—” His head catches hard and he flips end over end. “Princess!” He wills his body to stay loose, possibly mitigate the damage.

“Billy?!” he hears. And the world is a violent green blur.

Chapter Five: The Fire Swamp

Without thinking, Steve rolls down the hill after Billy. By the time he's halfway down, he's certain he's going to throw up. By the time he reaches the bottom he's surprised he hasn't.

"What the—" he spits as he finally, blessedly comes to a stop. "How the hell—" He raises a hand to his head and waits for the world to stop spinning.

"Why—"

"I think that just leaves out when and where," Billy says, already standing. Smirking like he hadn't just fallen down a giant hill mere moments ago. Like he isn't dizzy or disoriented at all.

"Were you ever going to tell me you weren't really dead or was I just supposed to mourn you for the rest of my life?" Steve yells, getting to his feet and getting right in Billy's face with it, his hands flying up to land uselessly on the blindfold still hung around his neck.

"You're marrying someone else," Billy says coldly, like that's all that matters, like he still thinks Steve had any choice in the matter.

“Would you just—" Steve says, pushing at the mask still covering the top half of Billy's face. "Take this off." He pushes and pulls at the thing, making little headway until Billy unties it at the back and it falls off, leaving them close enough, Steve leaning close, that they're sharing the same air and staring at each other full on.

And for a long moment, neither of them moves, they just stand there, chests brushing, breathing in the same rhythm, until finally Steve says, "I never wanted to."

Billy takes a step back. "Well, you are."

Steve steps forward, pushing himself up against Billy again, unable to stay away now that he knows the one and only man he's ever loved is alive, still and whole before him. "He heavily implied he'd make things bad for my family if I didn't." He runs his fingers up Billy's chest, unable to stop himself from touching, either, from making really and truly sure that Billy's real. That this is really happening.

Billy grabs his hands, looking like he's about to push him away and Steve could swear, would swear that he feels his heart stutter and roll to a stop in his chest before Billy drags him closer, trapping their hands between the crush of their bodies and Steve feels his heart trip over from silent to roaring as Billy's lips brush across his own. He can feel Billy's own heart rushing to match the accelerated tempo of his against the back of his hand as the kiss deepens and Billy leans up, his whole body stretching like its trying to engulf Steve's.

Steve feels the kiss and the press of Billy's body crest over him like a crashing wave and he lets it drown him, loses himself in the rough slide of Billy's shirt underneath his fingers, in the way Billy's heart crashes against his ribs like its trying to reach out and touch Steve's hand itself, loses himself in the soft press of Billy's lips. He moans into the kiss as Billy slips one of his hands out from between them to grip the back of Steve's neck and thumb gently at the hair there.

When they finally break apart it's only because they both violently need to breathe and even then, the space left between them is nearly non-existent. "I've never wanted anybody else," Steve whispers.

"Yeah, I can see that." Steve can feel the way Billy's mouth curves up more than he can see it. "Can feel that." The hand at Steve's neck drops down, trails along his spine to rest at his hip.

"There will never be anybody else," Steve breathes out, still just stuck on the way Billy feels, that he's real, that he's here. He inhales deeply—the way he smells—it's better than any perfume anyone could ever even dream up. "Never."

"Good," Billy says, voice low and deep, burning into him in a way Steve had forgotten it could.

Neither of them moves, both of them cool with staying frozen in this singular moment for the rest of forever and for a few days after that. Eyes locked. Smiles on their lips. Those magical hands of Billy’s touching Steve again and healing wherever they come to rest.

The sound of horse hooves shatters the spell, echoing down the valley.

“Shit,” Billy says, tracking their hunters with upturned eyes. “Your new boyfriend is a real pain in my ass.”

Steve’s hands go to his hips. He’s about to argue but Billy grabs up his hand before he can get a good start. Runs up the back with his thumb and then pulls it in for a quick, unthinking kiss.

“Lucky for us, we can go where they can’t track us,” he says, all cocky smile. “Come on.”

Like Steve’s not gonna follow.

Even if it does involve more running in his less-than-sensible palace shoes.

Billy slows as they enter a root-twisted, creepy-ass forest. They stop. Take the place in. Massive trees block the light out. Strange animal cries reach their ears.

“Hell,” Billy says. “For the dreaded Fire Swamp, this place doesn’t seem so bad.”

Steve gapes at him, eyebrow quirked.

“What? Not saying I wanna build a summer home here or anything, Princess, but the trees are kinda cool, you’ve gotta admit.”

Steve scoffs. Starts walking.

“Some rescue, buddy,” he mumbles as he passes. “Five star stuff, right here.” Gestures around them.

Billy shrugs.

“What was that?” Steve says, stood still and wary.

The popping comes again. His pant leg catches fire—a great tongue of flame roaring up out of the ground and catching him on fire fire fire oh my god he’s—

He starts dancing wildly, waving his leg.

“I’m on fire! Billy, I’m on fire! Billy, Jesus will you—”

Billy tackles him to the ground. Digs up dirt and starts smothering the flames. After a few handfuls, Steve stops burning. They both sit in the silence after, panting.

“You know what?” Steve says, looking out into the unending maze of trees and woody vines they still have to get through. “It’s official. The Fire Swamp blows.”

He stands, brushing the dirt off of his clothes. Billy joins him on his feet. When the strange popping sound starts up again, Steve all but jumps into Billy’s arms and Billy swings him out of harm's way.

“Why is it only trying to set me on fire?” Steve asks, pissed. Billy sets him on his feet.

“Maybe it’s set off by noise,” he says absently. Holds out his hand to continue.

Everything goes fine for a while after that. Dandy. Billy fills him in on his death and rebirth as a Pirate. Steve doesn’t get barbecued. Billy full-on picks Steve up to help him across a fallen log, still talking, which is pretty freaking hot. Steve doesn’t get barbecued. All good stuff.

He should have known it was too good to be true because one wrong step later and—

—he's completely buried in the lightning sand.

But Billy will save him.

He’d been talking, hadn’t got a breath in before he’d plunged underground.

Billy will save him.

He starts to panic, lungs screaming for air. Begins to thrash and doesn’t even mean to. Doesn’t know what he means to do.

Billy will—

A hand closes on his arm, barely distinguishable from the grip of the ground. And Steve is yanked closer to Billy. Scrambles his arms around Billy’s body once it’s close enough to feel.

The first breath he grabs topside—Billy hauling them up—is the best breath he’s had since his first on this earth. Didn’t think for a moment there he’d ever have another.

“You know.” Billy gasps. “This is a good thing.” Gasp. Finally his breath gets somewhere back to normal. “We already know how not to get killed by two out of three of the worst things in this shithole.” He stands. Offers Steve a hand. “Good thing you’re so clumsy.” He grins.

“Oh, you’re hilarious,” Steve says, glowering.

Billy leans in and steals Steve’s lips briefly. Not fair.

“Had me scared there for a bit,” Billy whispers after, lips still brushing.

“Yeah,” Steve says back, wanting to hit Billy a little bit less. “Me too. Thanks for, you know, saving my ass. Again.”

Not even a little bit fair.

Billy smiles.

“No problem.”

His hand reaches once more for Steve’s.

And Steve can’t stay mad at the guy.

“So, two out of three,” Steve says. Counts them off, fingers getting involved. “Fire bullshit, sand bullshit, and—oh Jesus, so it’s just the ROUS’s left to tango with. That’s what you’re saying?”

“Rodents of Unusual Size?” Billy says, rolling his eyes. “Now those are some made up bullshit.”

He smiles his usual cocky smile.

Gets knocked to the ground by an ROUS.

Steve’s eyes pop wide as the giant rat goes in for the kill, long teeth bared.

“Bullshit, huh?” he says, involuntarily.

“You know what, Princess, I really don’t need any lip from you right now!”

Billy grapples with the beast, unable to gain the time to pull his sword and skewer it. Cries out as the ROUS bites down hard on his shoulder.

The sight of blood snaps Steve into action.

He looks for a weapon but he doesn't find one so he barrels in with both fists and starts pounding on the monster's back uselessly, doing no damage whatsoever as underneath it, Billy screams.

"Fuck, the—" Billy grinds out. "The—there's a stick-" his hand flails in the general direction of a truly gigantic stick lying just behind him and Steve scrambles for it, wraps his hands around the thick base end of it and whacks the monster with it until the stick starts coming away bloody, until the monster goes limp, until the monster stops moving, until the monster stops breathing, until—

"Steve!" Billy shouts. "You got it! You got it! You can stop!"

Steve drops the stick and instantaneously his arms grow so heavy he almost can't feel them. He notices that his hair has become damp, sweaty, and is now sticking to his forehead. He pushes the monster's soon-to-be rotting corpse off of Billy and pulls Billy up, his breaths coming fast and heavy and not just from the exertion.

"And now we know we can handle those, too," Billy says, trying to put it off like it's a joke, but Steve isn't having it. He paws at Billy's good shoulder and under his bad one. Billy hisses but lets Steve draw him close.

"I'm not losing you again," Steve says, more deadly serious than he's ever been. "Not ever again." He sticks his face into the side of Billy's neck on his good side and tries not to start shaking.

"And you won't ever have to," Billy says, voice as calm as anything, even as his own hands wrap around Steve's back and rub up and down like Steve's the one that's injured instead of him. Like he's checking Steve over for injuries, rather than the other way around, like it's probably supposed to be after something like that.

They just stand there clinging to each other like that until Steve can breathe normally and Billy stops feeling the incessant need to check Steve over.

It takes a while.

Chapter Six: Promise?

They don't talk much the rest of the way through the forest, either, choosing instead to look back at each other every few minutes, silently checking to make sure that they're both still here, both still real, both still alive, covered in blood though they might be.

And when they finally break through to the other side Steve lets out a long sigh of relief, then starts up with, "So what do you—" meaning to say so what do you want to do now? But he never finishes the sentence. He's cut off by the sound of horses approaching and the clank and clatter of armor.

"Shit," Billy curses. He draws his sword, wincing as he does so, in so much pain that he’s not likely to be much use in a fight, but bluffing out of habit.

Prince Tommy rides up to them with the biggest, smuggest smile on his face and it makes Steve want to spit as he says, "Steve," all fake concern and barely concealed disdain. "I'm so glad we found you!"

His smile brightens in the most practiced, staged way imaginable. "Let go of this ruffian and come here."

Steve snorts. "Actually, I'm good, thanks." Beside him, he can feel Billy tensing up, like he's going to fight Tommy even outmatched as he is. Even wounded as he is. Like he'd fight Tommy and his goons one handed and blindfolded if he had to.

Steve bites his lip.

He knows he can’t let that happen.

"What..." Tommy says slowly, his perfect, practiced smile slipping for just long enough to show how ugly his face truly is. "What do you mean by that, my love?"

"I am not your love," Steve says, hand reaching out for Billy's and squeezing it. "This is my love. This is the only man I've ever loved, so if you'll excuse us, we'll just be going now."

They make it about three steps before Tommy's horse is blocking their path, that smug, smarmy smile of his having gone fully dark.

The knuckles in Billy's other hand audibly pop as he tightens his fist around his sword hilt.

Steve sucks in a breath.

"Hmmm, no, I don't think so. See, that really doesn't work for me," Tommy says as he raises a hand then flings it towards Billy. "Guards! Arrest the man in black!"

Billy drops Steve's hand as the guards' horses draw closer. It only just barely gives Steve long enough to come up with a plan.

"I'll come with you!" he shouts just as the men start to dismount. "I'll come with you if you promise not to hurt him!"

Tommy smiles again, this time like the cat that ate the canary as Billy yells, "Steve, no!"

Steve turns to Billy, takes his hand, raises it to his lips and kisses it gently. "I'm not losing you again," he says, matter of fact.

Billy is silent as he walks over to Tommy's horse. "Promise," Steve says, the word coming out between his teeth like it's a threat. "You have to promise."

"I promise," Tommy says. He offers Steve a hand up and Steve takes it. "Your boy won't be harmed if you come with me."

"Men," Tommy calls out behind him as they ride away. "Take him wherever he wants to go."

Chapter Seven: The Six-Fingered Woman and The Pit Of Despair

As Tommy passes Carol he slows a moment, their eyes exchanging an altogether different communication.

“As long as he wants to be tortured and killed,” his eyes say.

“Oh, I promise,” hers reply.

Billy knows what comes next. He’s not as naive as Steve is. But God, Billy loves that glass half full outlook the guy works so hard to keep. Even if it does complicate the shit out of Billy’s life sometimes.

“So, you killing me here or do you have a special spot picked out?” Billy looks up into Carol’s cold gaze. “No need to lie about it.”

“Why would I bother?” Carol says. Nods to her men, her hand waving a gesture.

“You have six fingers on your right hand,” Billy says, smiling. “Oh, have you got some hurt coming your way.”

Carol frowns. There's a popping pain in his head.

The next thing he sees is a root-snarled dungeon ceiling. He moves his eyes—about the only part of him not strapped down—to see who’s cleaning his wound.

“Max?” He strains against his bonds. “The hell are you doing here?”

“My job,” she says, frowning. Keeps cleaning his wound.

“Where the hell am I?” he tries. She’s still pissed at him for leaving. He can tell. She’s cleaning his shoulder pretty goddamn aggressively for someone who’s not pissed at him, for starters.

“The Pit of Despair,” she says. “What the hell did you do this time, Billy? You’ll never escape here, you know. No one will find this place to rescue you either, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“It’s not, believe me.” Billy stares. Never thought he’d see her again. “Guess you’re stuck with me tilll I die, then,” Billy says, even though what he really wants to know is how she ended up here of all places. But what right does he have to ask? After bailing like he did?

“Yeah,” she says, plunking a bowl down hard. “Till they kill you.”

“So why bother fixing me?” Billy asks, mostly just wanting to hear her talk to him again.

She looks down on him with hard eyes. “Why the fuck do you think?”

“Cause they’re gonna torture me,” he answers himself. “Of course they are. Whatever.” He’d shrug if he could. “I'm sure I can handle whatever they’ve got planned.”

“Idiot,” Max says. She smacks his shoulder with stinging salve then rubs it in, gentler. Her voice grows gentler, too.

“I wish you were right.”

Her hand rests on his arm. Her eyes fill with resignation.

“They’ve got this machine—”

---

Steve bolts up to sitting out of another nightmare. Gasps and curls into himself and tries to get his bearings. For a moment he’d fooled himself into thinking he was home. In his own bed.

He isn’t.

He jumps out of bed and pulls a pair of breeches on loosely, half tucking in his night tunic. This has to end. He has to end this.

“I can’t do this,” he says, bursting into Prince Tommy’s study. “I won’t. I love Billy. Always have, always will. Too much for this to happen.” He gestures wildly, taking in everything. Tommy, the castle, the wedding, this whole scenario.

“So if you say we’re getting married in ten days, fine. Whatever. Just know I’ll be dead by morning.” Steve rakes his hair. Plants his hands on his hips. “Your move.”

Because Steve can’t take one more goddamn nightmare. He just can’t.

Tommy sets the paper he’d been holding on the table. Stands.

“Alright—“

Robin, his lady-in-waiting, always laces his clothes up too tight. Says it accentuates his figure, but Steve knows it’s on the Prince’s orders. Next morning she’s at it again as if nothing had happened last night. As if she isn’t worried. As if this whole situation isn’t completely impossible.

“He said he sent his four fastest ships to find Billy?” she asks as she finishes dressing him. “And you believed him? God, Steve, sometimes you’re just so—”

Steve sighs. Pulls at his too-tight vest.

“Yeah, well, I don’t have much choice, now do I?”

And if that isn’t the story of his life.

Robin just sighs along with him. At least he has one friend in all of this.

Chapter Eight: The Thieves Hideout

Will finds Lucas passed out in the thieves hideout in the forest.

“Okay, you need to get a grip,” he says as he drags Lucas over to a barrel of water and carefully dunks his head in.

It takes two tries but finally Lucas comes up spluttering, looking around wildly. “Will? What the—” he coughs before Will dunks him a third time.

“That time was for the smell,” Will says as he drags Lucas out of the water again. Lucas looks about as pleased as a wet cat but Will only shrugs before dragging him over to the nearest cabin and plonking him down on the ground so he can lean up against one of the porch pillars. “I’ve heard people talking about a six-fingered woman working in the castle. Other people on the brute squad have seen her. I'm on the brute squad now—cleaning out the thieves forest. What are you doing here?” Will asks.

Lucas peers up at him slowly. “I’m waiting for Dustin,” he says, his words dripping out of him as slow as the water drips from his hair. “He said to go back to the beginning, so, here I am.” He waves his arms about drunkenly. “At the beginning!” He looks like he might throw up any second and he can’t seem to stop his head from bobbing up and down like a puppet on strings.

“But…” Will says, unsure of how to broach this particular subject. Ultimately, he just goes for the direct approach: “Dustin is dead.”

Lucas smacks his head against the pillar behind him then groans.

“The Man in Black killed him,” Will says.

---

“I see you’ve healed up nicely,” Carol says as she strolls into the Pit of Despair.

In response, Billy grunts.

“I think it’s about time we got him started on the machine, don’t you?” she says, speaking more to Max than to Billy. Max says nothing and Billy stays silent. He’s decided he’s going to use the one bit of power he’s got left in this terrible place and not speak to Carol. Not at all.

He sees Carol walk closer to the giant machine placed somewhere above him and watches as she caresses it lovingly. “This machine is my life’s work,” she says and when neither Max nor Billy asks any questions about that, she goes on anyway. “It’s designed to suck the life from someone one year at a time.”

She walks closer to Billy and attaches some wires and other bits and pieces to him. He fights off a shiver at the cold press of her fingers on his skin. He tries to think of Steve, of the warmth of his touch, of his laugh, but the cold terror of this place chases away even the idea of a pleasant thought.

“Now,” she says, those cold fingers trailing slowly, delicately up Billy’s forearm to his shoulder before digging in there, trying to elicit a reaction and failing. “Please, when we go through this, be honest about how it makes you feel. Because I am, after all, recording this for science.”

She digs her fingers in deeper and Billy grunts like she’s annoying him rather than the truth—which is that she’s definitely freaking him out. Max is so quiet Billy isn’t even sure she’s still in the room.

Carol walks slowly to the machine, saying, “Now, to start you off, we’ll just go with one year. Make things nice and easy for your first try.”

Billy stays silent.

She flips a big, fat switch on the machine and for the first split-second it’s fine and Billy thinks it’ll be fine, it won’t hurt that much, but then the pain kicks in, starting in his toes and licking up his body like he’s being set on fire an inch at a time. He shuts his eyes to avoid knowing if he might be. Because he might be, it hurts that bad.

Some indeterminate amount of time later—it could be a minute, it could be an hour, Billy has no idea—he hears something click, thinks maybe she’s shut the machine off, but the pain doesn’t stop, it just reverberates, soaring and cresting inside of him, making him forget anything else other than this pain ever existed.

“Now tell me, how did that feel?"

Billy whimpers.

---

Lucas grunts. “Then we should get his help.”

“What?”

Lucas looks up at Will and tries to put on his best determined face but mostly he just makes himself nauseous. “He beat me in a sword fight.” He gets to his feet. He wobbles. A lot.

“He clearly beat you in a fight.” He takes a step and almost throws up. He considers it a massive victory that he doesn’t.

“And he beat Dustin’s brain.” He wobbles a bit more and reaches back to put a hand against the pillar he was leaning against. He closes his eyes against the way the world seems to tilt on its axis and buckle.

“If we’re going to get revenge for my father, we’re going to need his help.” He lets go of the pillar, takes three steps forward and falls flat on his face.

“Sure,” Will says. “But maybe let's wait until you’re sober, yeah?”

From his position in the dirt, Lucas mumbles his assent.

Chapter Nine: The Four Fastest Ships

“Double the guard.”

Keith nods from his position knelt at Tommy’s side. Tommy leans back, sharpening his dagger blade.

“Prince Steve will be safe, Your Majesty.” Keith says. “The castle doors only have one key and that key stays with me at all—”

“Steve,” Tommy says, standing as Steve enters the room. “My love. What’s up?”

Robin elbows Steve in the side and pushes him, stumbling, into the room. He turns to glare at her. “Ask him!” she mouths before stepping out of sight.

Steve swallows. This is gonna end so badly, he can already tell. He can barely even look at the slimy fuck.

“Look,” he says, stepping forward. “I need to get some answers—“

“Tons of time for questions later,” Tommy says, walking over and placing his hands on Steve’s upper arms, squeezing. Steve has the sudden desire for a bath. He clenches his jaw.

“Tonight we’ll be married,” Tommy goes on, ignoring Steve’s discomfort. “And tomorrow’s the honeymoon.” He winks at Steve, who throws up in his mouth a little. “You can ask all the questions your little heart desires once we’re on the ship.”

Steve’s stomach drops. Ship. He really might puke here.

“Ship?”

“Yeah. Every ship in my armada will be waiting in Florin channel to leave with us.”

“Every ship?”

And Robin was right. Of course Robin was right. Steve shakes Prince Tommy’s hands from his arms.

“Every ship, huh?” He backs away. “You’re a fucking terrible liar, you know that? You brag too much.”

Tommy gives some silent signal and Keith leaves the room after bowing uncomfortably.

“Watch your mouth,” Tommy says quietly. He walks over to sit at his desk like he doesn’t give a shit what Steve says. But he’s too tense to sit.

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve says, glaring down. “Billy’s gonna show up and save me from this wedding. Watch.”

Tommy scoffs.

“You really are an idiot.”

Steve glares.

“Yeah,” he says, stalking forward. “That’s me! Stupid, naive little Stevie.”

Tommy sheaths the dagger he’d unconsciously picked up. Throws the sheathed weapon to the table.

“What?” Steve goes on. “Scared of what’ll happen to you when Billy does show? Coward?”

“Watch,” Tommy says, jaw clenched, “Your mouth. Or you won’t like what happens, Princess.”

“Don’t you ever fucking call me that,” Steve says, eyes darting to the sheathed dagger on the table. “What are you gonna do to me? You’re not gonna risk hurting me before the wedding, are you, smart guy. And if I do somehow end up marrying you I’ll be happier dead.”

Steve plants his hands on the table. Leans in.

“Billy and I are tied together with stronger bonds than you’ll ever feel in your miserable life. Our love will survive death. True love always wins, in the end. And you are a coward. Pathetic. You’re probably the slimiest little shit ever to crawl the earth!”

Tommy stands, vibrating with anger. He walks slowly to the door. Turns and addresses Steve quietly. Ominously. “You should have watched your mouth.” He smiles like he knows something Steve doesn’t. “You really should have, Princess.”

Then he’s gone. Steve stands in the silence, gut aching.

He picks up the forgotten dagger from the table.

The wedding draws nearer.

---

Three hours to the ceremony and a long unnatural wail echoes across the countryside. It permeates the stone of the castle walls and Steve feels an ache in his chest for the poor creature that makes it. The sound seems to mirror the sound he feels his heart is making. It snakes, echoing, down a busy village street and finds Lucas’s ears.

“It’s him,” Lucas says, pausing to discern the direction it comes from. “I’d bet my life on it.”

“How do you know?” Will asks.

“That’s the sound of ultimate suffering,” Lucas says, remembering the echo of that sound in his own heart the day his father died. “The Man in Black surely makes it now. Nothing but true love would have let him best us for the Prince on that clifftop, Will. Against my sword, your strength, Dustin’s mind? No. It was true love against us that day. Now, the very same man that hired Dustin to murder that true love of his marries his love tonight. The new Prince isn’t likely to see the morning. So you tell me, who else has more cause?”

“I suppose…” Will says, scratching his head.

Lucas starts threading his way through the crowd. Throwing out desperate excuse-mes and pardon-mes as he struggles to gain ground.

“Will,” he says, straining against a large lady carrying a goat. “A little help, maybe?”

“Oh,” Will says, looking down. “Sorry.”

He raises his hands, cupping his mouth for more volume.

“Everybody move!”

The crowd parts. The lady with the goat glares and makes way. And Lucas turns to Will, nodding his thanks.

They hurry through the gap, off to find The Man in Black.

Chapter Ten: The Sound of Ultimate Suffering

The pain of it is worse than any Billy’s ever known, makes him scream louder and harder and longer than he ever would have thought possible and on top of all of that he can hear another, quieter scream flowing alongside his own, like the harmony to a melody for a symphony he’d never in his life wanted to hear and now will never be able to forget.

He thinks it might be coming from Max, could be, based on the look that showed up on her face when Prince Tommy had stormed in and set the machine to its highest setting—50 years—and flipped it on. Could be—

Could be, but—

But—

it could also be that the pain the machine is causing him has split his throat in half and both parts, the harmony and the melody are coming from his own throat. He longs to reach up and to feel it, to see if his throat has really split in half like he thinks maybe it has but his arms are still trapped by his sides in the leather restraints they’ve had him in since he got here and even if they weren’t—even if they weren’t—

He doubts he’d be able to move them anyway; he doubts he could so much as twitch a finger with intention just now what with the way his whole body is twitching, jerking and spasming in a violent and gruesome reaction to the pain.

Every inch of him is on fire, every inch of him is screaming all at once, his heart pounding like an engine that’s missing pieces but somehow is still fighting to try and power his body. And he keeps screaming, keeps screaming and screaming and screaming until screaming is all he has left, until screaming is all he is, but even that stops too as eventually his lungs become too tired, too heavy, the pain too great to carry on carrying on any longer.

It takes longer for the rest of his body to wear itself out and stop its twisting and its shaking, its roiling and agonizing spasms but finally, as his heart slows, so does the twitching and the shaking until eventually he’s lying on the table as still and as silent as he’d previously been loud.

Around him he hears the machine being switched off, hears the water that powers it stop running, hears footsteps, feels a cold and clammy hand press to his neck, hears Max’s fierce, furious voice call out, “You’ve done it. He’s dead.”

He doesn’t see it but he feels Prince Tommy's sneer when he says, “Good. Then I’ll leave it to you to dispose of the body.” Hears more footsteps and the door swinging open, then slamming closed as he feels his lungs fight for just one more breath when Max throws her body on top of his and cries, feels his slowly breaking heart struggle to keep up some sort of rhythm, like his body is trying to tell her not to worry, not to cry ‘cause he’s still here. He’s still alive, even if his mouth won’t move, can’t move to tell her so.

And even if when she whispers, “Don’t worry, I’m getting you out of here,” into his ear, what she’s really doing is just preparing his body to move, even if what she’s really saying is, “You know you deserved this,” he’s going to pretend what he heard was the first thing because if he’s going to die here, like this, he’d rather think it’s with his sister forgiving him rather than her hating him so much the sight of his near dead body does nothing whatsoever to move her.

He feels the last of the breath left in his useless, battered chest float out through his lips as she moves him onto a cart. Feels the ground pass underneath them and hears the thick wooden wheels click and grumble as she starts wheeling his body out the door.

“I don’t—” he thinks he hears her say, “I don’t know where we’re going to go.” But it’s hard, the world went dark almost the instant the pain hit and now the sound seems to be cutting out, too.

“Billy,” she says, but it sounds like he’s hearing it through cotton, or through absurdly, impossibly thick wool. His head feels like it’s full of wool, too, like each thought has to pass through miles of the stuff just to reach him.

The cart stops and the whole world narrows to the feel of Max’s fingers on his cheek, or at least what his imagination is telling him is Max’s fingers on his cheek as he feels a different kind of burn spread throughout his body, the lack of air spreading to each and every one of his muscles in turn and in turn making them numb as his heart slowly, slowly, slowly rolls itself over, as Max says, “Please, don’t.”

His heart gives one last final thunk, giving Billy just enough time to wish that he could reach out and touch Max’s face and tell her that he’s sorry for everything and to ask her, to beg her, to plead for her to tell Steve what happened to him. Because more than anything he doesn’t want Steve to think that anything could have kept him from rescuing him other than this—than absolute death itself.

Chapter Eleven: Miracle Mike

Lucas follows the tip of his sword through the forest, weaving this way and that, eyes closed.

“Father, guide my sword,” he whispers as he makes his meandering way.

“Hey Lucas,” Will says.

“Not now, not now,” Lucas says, annoyed. “Can’t you see that I’m concentrating?”

He doesn’t dare break the spell by opening his eyes.

“But you’re about to—”

“Ah!” a girl shrieks. Lucas’s eyes fly wide.

“What the hell are you stabbing random people in the ass for?” the redhead yells, stalking toward him and batting his blade aside. “What is that? Oh, hell, I’m bleeding, too! Great! I just bought this dress!”

She’s crying. Had been crying from the look of it. She punches Lucas. It lands harder than he expects it to and he rubs his jaw afterwards, feeling a blush creeping up under his palm. What a right hook. What a girl. Why is she crying? What is happening?

“Sorry,” Will says when Lucas remains silent too long. “But we’ve been looking for him all day long.” He points to The Man in Black, whose still limbs spill over the sides of the small cart the girl had been pushing.

“Billy?” The girl says, her eyes squinting, defensive. “What the hell do you want with him?” Her voice barely trembles. She wipes her eyes and doesn’t let any more tears fall. But Lucas can see that she wants to.

He finally finds his voice. “Revenge," he says.

Good job. Not creepy at all.

“Well,” Max says, swallowing and doing an impressive job of looking like she doesn’t care one way or another, “he’s dead, so….” She raises her eyebrows. That’s that, those eyebrows say.

“Not on him,” Lucas says, raising conciliatory hands and waving her off with them, a little scared of her. “On Prince Tommy—actually on Prince Tommy’s six-fingered henchman, but—you know what, we don’t have time for this. We need The Man in Black—” He stops at her intensified glare. “Er, um, Billy. We need Billy here to stop the royal wedding.”

“Needed, I guess, now,” Will chimes in, hands clasped at his front and eyes downward.

“Needed,” Lucas nods. “No!” Everyone living jumps at his sudden shout. “Need!” He looks to Max. Grabs her shoulder and lowers his voice. “I’m so sorry for this.” He turns to Will.

“Pick him up. Do you have any money?”

“A little,” Will says. “Why?” He picks up Billy’s limp body, leaving the cart behind and not even seeming to feel Max’s blows hitting him, though he is careful not to step on her feet.

“I just hope it’s enough to buy a miracle.”

He takes off. Mostly because Max’s fury begins turning his way at his words.

“I’ve only got forty,” Will says, hurrying after.

He picks Max up and slings her over his other shoulder.

“Sorry,” he says to her, ignoring her yelling and still-pounding fists. “You keep getting in my way and I don’t want to hurt you.”

He walks on after Lucas.

“Wait for me!”

Not long later, Lucas is pounding on the door to a small cottage. After much fuss, a peephole swings open in the door.

“Yes?”

A young, pale face appears, already annoyed.

“Mike,” Lucas says. “I need one of your miracles.”

Miracle Mike takes in the group.

“Do you ever.”

He scratches his cheek.

“Too bad the King’s stinking son fired me, isn’t it?” Miracle Mike says, glaring. “Oh, and thanks for bringing that great memory back, too, Lucas. Really. Appreciate it.” There’s an awkward pause. “Well, it’s been nice chatting.” Mike says, breaking it. “Buh-bye now. We’re closed.”

He slams the door to the peephole shut.

Lucas pounds on the door louder.

“Beat it,” Miracle Mike says, the peephole flying open once more. “Or I’ll call the brute squad.”

“I’m on the brute squad,” Will says, shifting Max’s wriggling body to scratch an itch on his nose.

“You are the brute squad,” Mike says, craning his neck to look Will in the eye.

“It’s important,” Lucas says. He’ll beg the guy if he has to.

“I’m retired,” Mike says, sour. “Anyway, why would you want a miracle from the guy the King’s stinking son fired? I might kill whoever you wanted me to miracle.”

“He’s already dead,” Lucas says brightly, recognizing a selling point and flaunting it.

“Yeah?” Mike says, scanning the still form draped over Will’s shoulder. “Fine. I’ll take a look. Bring him in.”

Lucas smiles up at Will, who smiles back.

They enter the cottage and Will drops Max, but not before Max gives him one last obligatory pounding on the back; she crosses her arms over her chest and goes silent after that. Watches Billy’s body worriedly.

“You got money?” Mike asks, palpating Billy’s chest.

“Sixty-five,” Lucas says, hoping to avoid haggling and keep enough for something to eat if he does live. He’d only had thirty, which brought their actual total up to seventy.

“I’ve never worked for that little,” Mike says. “Well,” he pauses. “Once. But that was a noble cause.”

Aha.

“He has a crippled wife,” Lucas lies. “His children—on the brink of starvation.”

“You always have sucked at lying, Lucas.”

Damn.

“I need him to avenge my murdered father.”

“You? Finding that six-fingered woman? Your first story was better,” Mike says. “Probably owes you money, right?” He looks around. “Where’s that bellows? He mutters. “Well, I’ll ask him.”

“He’s dead,” Lucas says.

“Oooh, look who knows so much. As a matter of fact, your friend here is only mostly dead. There’s a big difference between mostly dead and all dead. Please, open his mouth.”

Lucas does and Mike inserts the end of the bellows between Billy’s teeth and pumps up Billy’s chest. Once. Twice. Max starts to come forward, mouth open in protest, but Will stops her with a gentle hand. Shakes his head no. She frowns, but stays quiet.

“Buddy! Hey, hello in there! What’s so important, huh?” Mike asks Billy loudly, leaning in. “What have you got that’s worth living for?”

The miracle man pushes down on Billy’s chest.

“Truuuue Loooove,” Billy’s body groans out with the released air.

“True love, you hear that?” Lucas says, excitedly. “What’s a more noble cause than that?”

“Other than a BLT, I can’t think of anything,” Mike says. “But that’s not what he said. He clearly said—”

“Liar!”

A brown-eyed girl enters the room, her dark curls bouncing. “Liar. True love. He said true love, Mike. Friends don’t lie!”

“I’m telling you, I’m not—”

The girl holds out her palm and Miracle Mike rises a solid foot up from the floor, feet kicking feebly. Blood drips from the girl’s nose. She glares.

“Help. Or I dump your ass.”

“I like her,” Max says, smiling.

Chapter Twelve: Brains, Strength, Steel, Attitude and a Wheelbarrow

“Okay, so…” Mike says some time later as he’s putting the finishing touches on the weird, round, little chocolate-coated miracle he’s spent the past hour making. “Give him this, then wait about fifteen minutes.” He passes over it one last time with the little brush in his hand before blowing on it and putting it in a little cloth pouch.

He hands the pouch to Max with less fanfare than something like this probably deserves and she follows his lead by roughly shoving it into the pocket of her sweater.

“The chocolate makes it go down easier,” says the brown-eyed girl, the one who had, oddly, said her name was Eleven, though when Max had asked her why she had such an odd name she’d been met with a resounding chorus of, “Don’t ask!” coming from everyone in the room except for, oddly, Eleven herself.

“Right,” Max says slowly as they all start heading for the door, Will picking up Billy as he passes by the table and glancing over at Max like he won’t hesitate to scoop her up again if she refuses to go with them this time.

Which…

Well…

Max figures for better or for worse (and probably for worse) she’s in this now, so she’s going to see this through to the end, even if she strongly suspects it ends with them near the castle, huddled around the dead body of her brother, wondering why this “cure” didn’t work.

Because she doesn’t entirely believe “only mostly dead” is really a thing because she saw her brother die, she felt it happen, like she felt it in her bones and in her gut strongly enough that the feeling stopped her dragging that cart she’d been carrying him in and she’d had no choice but to scramble back and to check on him, to put her hand to his neck and to feel as his pulse crawled to a stop, to feel it as he died underneath her fingers.

And she sees his body now, has seen it get colder and colder each time she reached out to touch it, to touch him. And each time she wanted to see if some lingering echo was left inside, if there was some part, any part, of her brother left, but every time she tried all she was rewarded with was stillness and silence. And cold. So much cold.

Or in other words, she looked, she wanted to believe, but all she was rewarded with was the complete and utter absence of life.

And how could something like that ever be reversed?

No miracle, no matter how good, no matter how clever nor how chocolate-coated, could ever fix that.

Right?

But then Eleven reaches out and puts a delicate, soft hand on her shoulder and says, “This will work. Trust me,” and she says it with such deep sincerity and complete and total faith that Max wants to believe that maybe, just maybe, it can.

“Okay,” Max says and she doesn’t quite believe it still, she’s still terrified that there’s no way to get her brother back and that this great, big mistake she’s made is one she’ll have to live with for the rest of her life, however long that might be, but… she wants to believe it. She wants to, so she’s going to try.

Then she catches Lucas looking at her funny so she takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders and heads out the door before he gets it into his head to say anything to her about whatever it is he thinks he sees on her face.

She hears footsteps behind her and knows Will and Lucas are following close behind and she hears Mike and Eleven call out, “Good luck storming the castle!” loudly after them. Then, more quietly, almost quietly enough that Max misses it entirely, Mike says, “And you’ll need it, you idiots haven’t got a chance!” which is hastily followed up by the sound of a punch landing and Mike groaning loudly enough that Will almost turns around to see what happened before thinking better of it and continuing on.

They don’t talk much on the way to the castle. Well, Lucas tries to. He keeps asking Max about her favorite things, about what she does for work but Max isn’t in much of a mood to talk, less so about what she’s been up to lately and how it involved helping the people who killed her brother and how she’d known that was their plan, how she’d known and hadn’t cared, had been so busy with her own sense of self-righteous indignation over him leaving her alone with their parents that she’d been willing to watch him die for it.

That is, she had been until it had happened. Until he’d started screaming and she’d screamed with him, realizing entirely too late that what he’d done (or more like hadn’t done) wasn’t, had never, been worth his life.

Will, thankfully, doesn’t seem to be in much of a mood to talk, either, instead opting mostly for occasional grunts every time he switches up the way he’s carrying Billy, not that carrying Billy seems to be any great sort of strain on him at all.

And then, once they’re near enough to the castle they stop behind a big, brick building and Will leans Billy up against the wall and looks to Max. He looks to Max but he doesn’t say anything, just pins her with this important, soul-searing look that takes her a minute to fully get before she finally jumps to her feet, saying, “Oh, right,” and dragging the little pouch from Miracle Mike out from the pocket of her sweater.

“Well, here goes nothing,” she says as she fishes the chocolate-coated miracle from its little cloth pouch and Lucas holds Billy’s head back, elongating his throat so that swallowing will take the least possible amount of effort.

Max carefully presses the candy-shaped, candy-looking miracle past Billy’s lips and into his mouth. And she waits.

And she watches.

And she hopes.

“Is this going to take long?” Will asks, peeking over the castle wall at the armed guard in the courtyard below. “It must be only half an hour till the wedding.”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Lucas replies, staring at Billy for any signs of movement.

Max crouches down, face intent.

Nothing.

She turns to hide her reddening face and burning eyes. Pretends to check that their escape route is still clear.

Can’t stop the tears coming as the silent seconds drag on.

Shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up.

---

Billy tastes chocolate. He’s only ever tasted it once, when Steve snuck him a chunk on his Birthday, so it’s confusing that it’s in his mouth now.

Isn’t he dead? He opens his eyes.

Guy looking back at him seems familiar. Billy’s definitely fought him once before.

“Jesus, back for more?” he says, mouth awkward and hard to maneuver. He looks over the guy’s shoulder to see a strangely familiar giant. Great. “Fine, fine,” he says, stretching his jaw then continuing. “I’ll take you both. Come on.”

He hears a wet laugh.

Max?

Billy’s eyes find hers with some difficulty. He manages a weak smile at the sight of her.

“You weren’t fuckin' lying, Shitbird,” he says, voice softer than his choice of words. “That was one rough ride. About killed me.” Knows it had killed him, but she doesn’t need to— Hang the fuck on.

“Why won’t my arms move?”

“You’ve been mostly dead all day,” Will chimes in.

“We brought you back,” Lucas explains. “Took a miracle—an expensive miracle at that,” he mutters, mourning the weight of coin in his purse. “But then—”

“Okay, enough with the random exposition already, Jesus,” Billy says, clipped. “Just answer one thing. Who are you? I piss you off sometime or something—swear I’ve dueled you or something. And why am I on this wall? And where the fuck is Steve?”

Max gives one wet chuckle and finally wipes her face.

“Let me explain,” Lucas says, finger raised. He pauses a moment, thinking, then lowers it. “Nope, there’s too much. Let me sum up.”

“Fine,” Billy interrupts. Lucas glares. Max kicks his boot.

Billy scoffs and rolls his eyes, because that’s all he’s fucking got to work with apparently, and Mr. Let Me Explain starts up again.

“Steve is marrying Tommy in a little less than half an hour. So we have to break in, break up the wedding, steal your Prince and make our escape—after I kill Countess Carol.”

“We do, huh? Shit, that’s all?” Billy says. But his face says he’s thinking over the problem. More seriously he says, “doesn’t give us much time.”

“You just wiggled your finger!” Will says, amazed. “That’s wonderful.”

Billy throws him a put-upon glance.

“Always been a quick healer.”

Immediately back to the problem, he goes on. “What are we up against?”

“Only one way in,” Lucas says. Picks Billy up enough that his head can loll back over the parapet and he can get a look at the gate behind them. “And sixty men down there guarding it.”

He lowers Billy back against the wall.

“And we’ve got…?”

“Your brains. Will’s strength. My steel. Her.” Gestures at Max who glares to rival her brother.

“Yeah,” Billy says. “We’re screwed. If I had a month to plan, maybe, but this…” Shakes his head. No chance.

“You just shook your head,” Will says brightly. “That doesn’t make you happy?”

Billy flops his head around to look derisively up at Will.

“My brains, her attitude, his steel and your strength against sixty men and you think a little fucking head jiggle is gonna do it for me? Hmm?”

Will smiles. Billy jiggles his head again. So screwed.

“Now if we only had a goddamn wheelbarrow, I could maybe work with that.”

“Got you covered,” Max says. “Was hauling your heavy dead ass around in one when this stabby idiot and his friend found me.”

She shows him her bloodied dress then winks up at Will. The big guy blushes and scratches his neck.

“You stabbed my sister?!”

Billy flops menacingly Lucas’s way. Gonna kill the little fucker. But he thinks of Steve—at least once every thirty seconds like clockwork and here it is. Cools it. Billy’ll kill the guy later. They’re under a time crunch, here.

“Whatever,” he says. Rolls his head limply back to see Max. “Why didn’t you fucking say we had a wheelbarrow in the first place?”

“Oh shut up smartass, like I could have known it’d be useful.”

He raises his eyebrows at that. When the hell isn’t a wheelbarrow useful? But he’s only half invested. Half present. He’s thinking again.

“Give my right nut for a Holocaust Cloak right about now,” he throws out on the off chance.

“There we can’t help you,” Lucas says.

But Will pulls something that strongly resembles a Holocaust Cloak from inside his shirt. Dangles it in front of them.

“Will this work?” he asks.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Lucas says.

“Miracle Mike gave it to me. Fit so nice, he said I could keep it.”

“Alright alright,” Billy says, ready for action. “Come on, help me up.”

They stand, both Will and Lucas supporting his dead weight and Max supervising.

“Now,” Billy says, once they’re more or less upright, “we’ve just got to find me a sword.”

His head flops forward. Shit.

“Why? Lucas asks as Will casually balances Billy’s head back upright on his neck. “You can’t even lift one.”

“Sure,” Billy says, his head flopping backward this time. Will lifts it again. Fucking pats it before taking his hand away. “Thanks,” Billy says through gritted teeth. “But it’s not like anyone besides you three assholes knows that, is it? Anyways, It’ll be good to have once we’re knee deep in shit inside the castle. We’re gonna run into problems in there.”

His head flops forward again. Max begins giggling behind them as they finally get going. Will lifts it up once more and this time keeps his huge hand there holding it straight as they move.

“Problems. Chyeah, I’ll say,” Lucas says, ignoring Billy’s flopping head and Max’s giggling. All business. “How do I find the Countess? Once I do, how do I find you again? Once I do, how do we escape?”

“Don’t bug him,” Will says, turning Billy’s head to look his way while he talks.

Billy bites down the curses he wants to fling at Will for that shit. Jesus fucking—

Will’s oblivious.

“He’s had a hard day,” the guy says. Billy snorts.

Max’s giggle turns into a full-on laugh that she’s forced to stifle with a hand. She’s gonna regret that shit once Billy can move again.

“Right,” Lucas says, looking back, Will turning Billy’s head to catch the response. “Sorry.”

Will makes Billy nod a few times and at this Max just fucking loses it, dissolving into a fit of giggles that are nearly silent as she runs out of breath. Billy listens to her back there, wheezing, slapping her leg. Bitch. Grimaces and endures his piggyback ride as they make their way off the wall.

“Lucas,” Will whispers as Max’s laughter begins to peter out. “I hope we win.”

And Billy laughs too, at that. Once. Darkly. Thinks of Steve and everything that lies between them. Minutes ticking by and him here just useless.

Yeah, big guy. He closes his eyes. Maybe prays. You and me both.

Chapter Thirteen: The Wedding

A voice calls out from behind Steve: "Excuse me, Prince."

And it's a voice Steve knows all too well at this point—Countess Carol.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Steve climbs down from the window ledge he'd been climbing out of and turns to face her, red-cheeked and red-handed. "Oh, you know, just trying to get a better view," he says, casual as anything, even though they both know that's anything but the truth.

"Yes, I'm sure you were," Carol says with a smile. She's clearly aiming for her words to sound kind, like she thinks maybe that will fool him somehow, but she winds up mostly face planting into disdain instead. She holds a hand out to him and he takes it, knowing he has no real choice.

"The wedding is starting soon. Come, I'll walk you there myself, it wouldn't do for you to be late," she says, the razor sharp smile spreading across her face with these words only further illustrating the threat that lies behind them.

They walk out of his chambers and Robin joins them halfway down the hall, linking her arm through Steve's on the opposite side of Carol's. "I told you your stupid escape plan would never work," she whispers into his ear just before they reach the room where the wedding is to be held and all he can do is roll his eyes at her as she splits off from him to take her place in the back row.

Billy is all he can think about as Carol drags him down the aisle towards Prince Tommy. He hopes Billy will come and rescue him, not that he ever should have had to, it should be Billy he's heading down this aisle towards right now; it never should have ever been anybody else.

Tommy smiles brightly at him once Steve reaches him. Even reaches out to give him a delicate kiss on the cheek and calls him, "My love," again, like he believes this is real, like he believes any of this matters. Like this is anything more than a sham marriage he's forcing Steve into.

Like he thinks they really love each other or something.

Or maybe he's just really good at faking it, Steve doesn't know. Either way, Carol drops his hand as Tommy takes it, making Steve feel less like a human being and more like a parcel exchanging hands.

He basically is, though. Like that's what his life boils down to at this point - he's a thing to be used by someone else and that's it.

The tall, pale, buffoonish priest before them begins rambling the second they turn to face him and his voice alone makes Steve want to tear his own ears off. He has this weird thing with his voice where he pronounces all his r's as w's and also all his l's as w's and it makes him almost impossible to listen to.

And this priest he goes on and on and on about true love like, again, this is a marriage of true love, like Steve's not just standing here waiting for his real true love to come in and save him, like any of this really means anything at all.

It gets so bad Steve starts to wonder if there's any way he could maybe, possibly just end it all right here, right now when outside there's a loud noise and someone shouting, "Hold the line, men!" and Steve sees the scowl spreading on Tommy's face just as he feels the smile spreading across his own. "Billy's coming for me," he says. "My true love is coming for me."

The look on Tommy's face sinks into something murderously angry, murderously angry but with just an edge of fear and that look of fear has Steve's smile growing bigger even as Tommy says, "He can't be, I killed him," because Steve knows better. He knows, without a doubt, that the noise outside is Billy coming for him. He just knows it.

"If you're so sure he's dead, why do you look so scared?" Steve asks, properly happy for the first time in entirely too long.

Tommy grips Steve's hand tighter and turns his death glare on the priest. "Hurry up!' he insists with a big, sweeping hand gesture.

The priest nods but keeps droning on, only seeming to just be reaching the real beginning of the ceremony proper as he says, "Marriage is about two people coming together in united harmony…" which only serves to make Tommy groan in frustration.

Outside, someone screams.

"Just say man and husband!" Tommy shouts. "Just get it over with!"

The Priest nods again only this time he does as ordered, stating: "Man and husband."

And that's it. The ceremony is over. Steve is married and Billy didn't rescue him.

Next to him, Tommy smirks as Steve feels his heart sink down somewhere past his knees.

Chapter Fourteen: Vengeance

“Stand your ground!”

Lucas heaves the wheelbarrow forward step by grueling step.

“I am The Dread Pirate Roberts!” Will bellows, standing cloaked atop said wheelbarrow. Billy dangles off of Lucas’s back and almost feels sorry for the guy. Tries to pinwheel his legs along to feel like he’s helping. Max just strolls behind out of sight, watching the scene. Billy can feel her repressed laughter.

Not the time. Jesus. Little sisters.

“There will be no survivors!”

“Now?” Lucas says, shoving one step forward.

“Not yet,” Billy says.

“My men are here! I am here! But soon you will not be here!”

“Now?” Lucas asks, desperate.

“Light him.”

“All your worst nightmares are about to come true!” Will says dramatically as the flames rush up the holocaust cloak. “The Dread Pirate Roberts is here for your souls!"

The castle guard scatters, fleeing this way and that, scared out of their minds by the ruse. Granted, Will’s bulk aflame and coming for you was definite grounds to lose one’s shit. Billy doesn’t blame the cowards one bit.

Max starts laughing outright as Will steps down from the wheelbarrow and smothers the flames from his cloak. Lucas hauls Billy toward the gates sole standing defender who tries to be smart by lowering the portcullis.

“Will!” Lucas shouts. No need. The giant is already lumbering toward the impediment. He gets a grip and hauls the portcullis back up. The castle-crashers all advance, crowding the man against the gate.

Billy stares the man down, partial paralysis be damned.

“Give us the gate key.”

Like he’s even intimidating at all just dangling here.

“I have no gate key.”

See? Fuck.

“Will,” Lucas says calmly. “Rip his arms off.”

And thank God for giants.

“O-oh,” the man stammers, swallowing. “You mean this gate key.”

Max snatches it from him. Curtsies before knocking him unconscious and turning to open the gate.

They stroll into the castle. They have done the inconceivable. Onto the next impossible thing on this evening’s docket.

They wander the halls of the castle. With no real knowledge of its layout, they’re basically counting on fate to send their feet in the right direction and Billy finds he doesn’t really mind that. He has a few good reasons to put his trust in fate. To believe he might come through this with love and limb still intact. Life still to live. He feels Steve close by here. That same connection he’s always felt with him. Steve, warm and his and out there somewhere in the castle. Separated as they are by twisting halls and stony walls, Billy can still feel Steve as if he’s standing here beside him.

Now if only Billy can only figure out how to stand and meet him, that’ll be something.

The unlikely group shuffles awkwardly on.

Countess Carol is the first life they meet, her and four armored guards storming the hallway, blocking their advance, and Lucas steps forward with a triumphant blaze in his eyes at the sight of her. Raises his sword to meet the guard she’s brought with her. Billy watches, dangling from Will’s brawny arm, his own sword dangling just as awkwardly as his body from his pathetically weak grip.

Useless.

“Kill the dark one, the girl and the giant,” Carol says. “But leave the fourth for questioning.”

Billy grins. Cocky bitch ain’t she?

Lucas makes short work of the advancing guard. Stands tall once the last one falls. Raises his sword to Countess Carol.

“Hello,” he says, soft. Deadly. “My name is Lucas Sinclair. You killed my father. Prepare to die.”

Carol readies her raised blade. Stares Lucas down. Then bolts suddenly, leaving Lucas standing dumbfounded for a beat in her wake.

He unfreezes quick enough and sprints after her.

Billy watches him go. Exchanges a glance with Will.

“What was that all about?” Max asks.

“Will!” they hear echoing down the hall, preventing explanation. “I need you!”

“I can’t leave him and the girl alone, Lucas.”

“He’s getting away from me, Will!” Desperate cries over echoing pounding. “Please!”

Will dangles Billy off a suit of armor.

“I’ll be right back,” he tells him and Max with a frown. Walks off down the corridor.

“Hey,” Billy says to Max as soon as Will lumbers out of sight. “Help me with something, will ya?”

Lucas speeds off after the countess as soon as the door flies from its hinges at the polite suggestion of Will’s fist. He rushes onward, heedless of his surroundings, his focus only on catching her. On forcing her to pay for what she’d done to him. To his father.

Serves him right when he bolts through a door and is stopped cold, stumbling back, when a flung dagger sinks hilt-deep in his abdomen.

Stupid of him. Lost before he’s even begun, his anger getting the better of him. Making him blind. Robbing him of thought.

“I’m sorry father,” he whispers to the ceiling. “I tried. I tried.”

“Ohh,” Countess Carol says, strolling forward. “I remember you. You’re that little brat whose father I taught a lesson all those years ago. Recognize my mark, you see.”

She gestures to the scars on his cheeks. Lucas is paralyzed with the pain in his gut. Can do nothing but listen. Can barely focus.

“Have you been chasing me your whole life only to fail now?” Carol asks, head tilting with interest. “I think that’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard.” She smiles. “Cool.”

Lucas’s paralysis breaks only enough for him to slide down the wall, legs failing him too. He cradles the knife for a moment, bracing himself, then slides it free. He stares up at Carol, full of hate and unable to contain it.

Figures he might as well use it.

He stands.

“Cute,” Carol says. “Still trying to win? Poor boy.”

She slips forward and stabs out with a smooth killing blow. Lucas is quick with his sword. Deflects it almost enough. His shoulder is impaled.

Carol frowns. Stabs out again. Gets only Lucas’s arm, his defense quicker this time.

She rains down a hard strike from above and he dashes it away, responding in kind. Clashing metal.

“Hello,” he says, stalking forward. “My name is Lucas Sinclair. You killed my father. Prepare to die.”

The pain seizes him up and he falls into a table to keep from losing his feet completely. Carol takes the opportunity to strike. Meets his steel. He rises, countering blow after blow. Clash clash.

“Hello,” he begins again. Repeats himself again. Says what he’s been waiting to tell this bitch for years. Lands blow after blow and has her on the defense now. Backing away from him now.

He says it once more for good measure.

“Hello—”

“Stop saying that!” she orders, desperation in her eyes as he deflects one angry blow from her sword and then recreates the wounds she’d given him moments before. Two serpent strikes that she can’t even react to. He drives her farther and farther backwards as those words, words formed and polished over long vengeful years come out again in one final roar.

“Hello!” he says, voice ringing triumphant. “My name is Lucas Sinclair!” Voice quick and sure as his blade. “You killed my father!” Voice eager. “Prepare to die!”

He corners her finally. Swipes her cheek with a gentle stripe to match his scar.

“Offer me money,” he quietly commands.

“Yes,” she hisses out.

He marks the other cheek. Nearly twins now.

“Power too, offer me that.”

“All that I’ve got,” she promises. “More. Please.”

Lucas takes up his stance for one last blow.

“Offer me everything I ask for.”

“Anything you want,” she says, clipped, angry. Strikes out in one final attempt to trick her way past death. He deflects easily. Catches up her arm on a rebounding downstroke and lets her skewer herself on his sword.

The end at last. At last.

“I want my father back, you bitch.”

He shoves the blade deeper. Clean through. Watches the realization of death form in her eyes then kicks her off his blade. She’s dead before she even lands. Her body tumbles, crumpled, to the stones.

Vengeance is his. At last.

Now what?

Chapter Fifteen: To The Pain

Steve walks down the hall in a daze, barely able to follow after the doddering old King and Queen.

He doesn't know what to do with himself.

Billy didn't come for him.

Billy didn't save him.

And if Billy didn't save him there can only be one reason for that—Tommy wasn't lying.

Billy's dead.

Billy's dead and Steve has been married to Tommy.

He's actually married to Tommy and the man he loves is dead and now he has to do what he said he'd do.

He has to kill himself. He can't wait. Tommy could come for him at any moment.

Killing himself now, right now, is his one and only option at this point.

They're almost at his room when he catches up to the King and says, "Goodnight." He almost says, "And I'll see you in the morning," but he doesn't. Because he won't.

The King smiles sweetly at him and says, "Goodnight, dear boy. Sleep well!" before hurrying off down the hall after his wife, not waiting to see if Steve has anything else to say, which is probably for the best as Steve might very well have let slip what he's going to do if asked.

And so, with a heavy sigh and an even heavier heart, Steve walks into his room for what he knows will be the last time.

The first thing he sees is the dagger he'd stolen laid out on top of his desk almost like it's been waiting for him. Like this is meant to be. Like this was the way things were always going to play out.

He sits down slowly, carefully, giving himself plenty of time to back out, to do something else, to do anything else, but he finds himself not wanting to. He can't stand the thought of being married to Tommy. Not for another minute. Not for another second.

Not a life with no hope of rescue, no way out.

He takes the dagger carefully in one hand and pulls down the neck of his shirt to expose his chest with the other. The cold, cruel steel of it touches his skin and just as he's about to plunge it in and be done with it all, a familiar voice he never thought he'd ever hear again calls out, "I wouldn't be doing that."

Steve turns, excitement building in him so quickly it feels like he might just explode simply by moving around in his chair and internally he sort of feels like that actually happens, like something inside him has exploded and overflowed because there's Billy, lying in his bed like he belongs there.

"Billy!" Steve shouts as he flings himself at his love, wrapping his arms around him and kissing him desperately. He moans Billy's name and calls him darling but Billy makes no move to hold him or to run his hands through his hair or to do much of anything at all, really, and Steve can't stop himself from asking, "Why aren't you holding me?"

In response, Billy grunts, "Careful," like that's supposed to mean something, like Steve is supposed to understand what it's supposed to mean.

He doesn't, so he says, "Really? That's it? That's all you've got?" He sounds annoyed, he knows he does, but he can't help it. This is, quite possibly, the most romantic moment of their entire lives and Billy isn't really saying or doing anything about it.

But…

It doesn't really matter, Steve decides as he dives in for another round of kisses. Billy's alive and nothing else in the whole world matters. He can feel Billy smile against his lips as they kiss, he can see the happiness sparkling in his eyes but still, all Billy says is, "It is for now."

Steve shakes his head and settles in, his hands moving up and down Billy's chest, just taking in every glorious inch of him and revelling in each and every breath he feels Billy take. He's so happy, he's so overcome with joy that it takes him a minute to realize that none of this changes quite as much as he wants it to.

"Oh. But… I'm married," he says. "You're too late."

Billy smirks. "Are you sure of that?"

Steve huffs. "Well, of the two of us I'm the one that was stuck standing there so yes, I'm pretty sure."

"And how do you know?" Billy asks, smirk only growing wider.

"What do you mean, how do I know? I was there!"

"Yes, but did you say your vows? Did you say I do?"

Steve pauses. Thinks it over. "No," he says. "I don't suppose I did."

Billy's tongue flicks out over his lips. "Then that means you aren't married. If you didn't properly finish the ceremony, then you aren't married." He looks somewhere over Steve's shoulder and says, "Isn't that right, Prince Tommy?"

Steve's stomach does a single, full cartwheel and crashes into his lungs, knocking the breath from him. He doesn't want to look and see Tommy standing behind them. He doesn't want to know.

"It doesn't matter," Tommy says, "We'll just do it again after I kill you." There's the sound of a sword being drawn from its sheath and Steve rolls away from Billy to see Tommy standing in the doorway just as he'd feared.

"But a fight to the death seems like the only way I'll ever truly be rid of you, so let's do this," Tommy says to Billy, ignoring Steve completely, like he isn't even here. Normally, Steve would hate that, normally he'd call Tommy out for it but right now it serves his purposes. Right now it gives him time to come up with a plan and to look for a weapon.

"I have a different idea," Billy says, drawing the words out nice and slow and making Steve wonder if this idea is similar to his whole Iocane powder bit with the kidnappers earlier. He wonders what else Billy could possibly have up his sleeve. "Instead of to the death we'll fight to the pain," Billy says.

"And that's supposed to mean what exactly?" Tommy says, looking almost… bored. Like this conversation is somehow boring him. Steve's eyes land on the dagger that's still lying on his desk and he wonders if he can get to it without drawing too much attention to himself. He sits up a little on the bed and neither Tommy nor Billy seems to notice.

"Since you are clearly too stupid to know, I'll inform you," Billy says as he pushes himself up against the headboard of the bed.

"Did you just—" Something in Tommy snaps. "Did you just call me stupid?"

"I did," Billy says. "But here's what to the pain means. It means that first, I'll cut off your feet, then I'll cut off your hands and after I'm done with that, I'll cut off your nose."

Tommy scowls and draws his sword up along with his chin. "Alright, well—" he starts but Billy cuts him off.

"I wasn't done!" Billy levels a glare at Tommy, his voice rumbling out from deep within his chest as he says, "After your nose I'll take your eyes."

Tommy is starting to look frightened, but Steve feels frightened. He knows Billy isn't strong enough to pull off what he's saying he's going to do and he only hopes his own plan, foolish and poorly thought out as it might be, will work.

Still, Tommy acts like he's not scared at all as he says, "Right and then my ears next I'm guessing?"

Billy sneers and it's dark and it's feral and suddenly Steve knows without a doubt that this is how Billy survived as a Pirate. This look right here.

"No," Billy says. "That's the point of all of this. I leave you your ears and I leave you your life so that every time someone sees you, every time someone screams in horror at the mere sight of your disgusting, mutilated, freakish body, you'll hear it and you won't stop hearing it. Not until the day you die."

Tommy blanches but still pretends to be unaffected. "I don't believe that. Not for a second. You're bluffing."

With great effort, Billy pulls himself up so that he's fully standing up on his own and while Tommy is distracted watching this, that's when Steve makes his move.

He grabs the dagger and has it at Tommy's throat before Tommy is even able to notice. "He might be, but I'm not," Steve growls. "Now put down your weapon." He presses the blade in his hand against Tommy's throat just firmly enough to draw blood and make it sting.

Tommy's sword clatters to the ground.

Billy takes a step forward, sword in hand and smiles at Steve. "What do you think?" he says. "Should we tie him up?"

"Oh, definitely."

Chapter Sixteen: The Kiss That Leaves All The Others Behind

“Tie him up tight as you like, Princess.”

Steve huffs a laugh, cinches the ropes till he gets a tight squeal out of Tommy, thinking of the months he’d spent cinched up in restraining palace garb not knowing if it was the cruelly laced clothes or his panic at the thought of life without Billy to blame for his inability to breathe.

A wounded man wanders in and raises eyebrows at the trussed up Prince.

“Going well here too, I see.” He nods to Steve. “Lucas Sinclair, an absolute pleasure, Your Highness.” Immediately he looks to Billy. “Where’s Will?”

“I thought he was with y—oh shit,” Billy says, taking a step too quickly and having second thoughts immediately as his legs turn to jelly beneath him. He hauls himself back to standing with help from the bedpost.

“Okay,” Steve says. “That’s it. What’s wrong with you?”

“He has no strength,” Lucas says and Billy winces. Nods. “He’s only been back from the dead for about forty-five minutes though,” Lucas goes on, “so I’d say he’s doing pretty good, all things considered.”

“Back from the—“ Steve begins, breathless.

“Ha! I knew you were bluffing!” Tommy yells. Swings his attention up to Steve, triumphant. “I knew he was…” He sees the dagger in Steve’s hands, tip inching closer to his neck and he peters off on “bluffing,” clearing his throat uncomfortably afterwards and blessedly shutting his mouth.

Max comes storming into the room already talking, like, “Better not be naked in here Billy I swear to god, okay? I know it’s a romantic moment and all but we’re in the middle of a raid here, and—”

“Max,” Billy nods to her, still hugging the bedpost for support.

She looks relieved. Nods back absently, taking a look around the room. Robin trails in after and raises eyebrows at Prince Tommy’s state before throwing him a sarcastic curtsy. “Your Highness.” And then she throws Steve a smile with a free wink included.

“Your Highness.” Grin playful. “Happily ever after, huh?” she says, motioning with a nod to Billy who’s finally standing under his own power again.

Steve sheathes his dagger and smiles back, swinging that smile over to Billy whose returning smile makes it glow up all the brighter. It's a stretch to hurt his underused cheek muscles. They’ve won. He can’t stop smiling. God, it really might be happily ever after for them. What a thought.

“Yeah,” he says, breath catching on a swell of love for Billy. Joy that he’s here, alive, when Steve had thought him dead. That he’s here and they’ve won. And he can’t stop smiling. And Billy’s eyes capture Steve’s like they always have, the blue of them, the intensity. Steve could stare into them forev—

“Right,” Max says, bringing Steve back to reality, because you can actually hear the eye roll when she speaks. “Well. That’s real sweet and all but can we maybe escape first? Where’s Will?”

“Lucas!”

A faint call drifts in through the open window.

Lucas looks briefly over, but turns his attention and his sword back to Prince Tommy.

“Want me to kill him for you?” he says, eyes darting to Billy. Quick to Steve.

And it’s so tempting. Steve almost says yes. Feels a hand gripping his shoulder and turns to see Billy’s understanding eyes. Billy slowly shaking his head.

“No,” Billy says, reluctantly turning his attention to Lucas. “Let him live a long life shamed by his cowardice. He’s not worth the time spent cleaning his blood from your sword.”

“Lucas!”

The call again, Will down there in the courtyard, trying to yell, but quietly. Like the loudest stage whisper, it cuts through the air.

Lucas shrugs. Knocks the Prince unconscious with the hilt of his sword.

“Hey!” Max calls back, first of them to reach the window. “Up here!”

“Oh, hello pretty lady!” Will calls up, waving a hand holding the reigns of two shining white horses.

Max waves back, blushing. Lucas frowns. Tries to play it off as a grimace afterward, holding his wounded abdomen. Jealous? Him? Please.

“I was looking for you,” Will calls up. “Wandered into the King’s stables and found these five white horses. Figured if we ever found Billy’s Prince there’d be five of us—hello Prince!”

The giant waves up at Steve.

Steve waves back, very confused. Hadn’t this guy kidnapped him before? You just don’t see giants every day. And that other guy too, he’d been there. And what had he meant by back from the dead?

He sighs. Figures he’ll just keep smiling for now and demand answers later. With violence if need be. Billy so owes him some explanations.

“I call not sharing a horse,” Robin says quickly and quietly through her smile.

“Dibs,” say Billy and Steve simultaneously.

“Shit,” Max hisses, Lucas suspiciously quiet behind her. “Well, Will found the things so I guess that’s me sharing with…” She glares over at Lucas’s state, judgemental eyes scanning him up and down. “What’s your name again? You better not bleed on me, okay? That’s all I’m saying on the matter.”

And with that, she jumps out the window and lands in Will’s arms.

Robin follows, with only the gentlest push from Steve, and Steve jumps down after. Only Lucas and Billy remain above. Billy gestures Lucas to go first and he starts to. Then he leans back against the stone window frame and smiles wistfully.

“You know, I’ve been chasing after revenge so long, now that I’ve caught up, killed Carol, I don’t know what to do. Farm?” Lucas frowns, trying to imagine it. “I’ve never been bored, you know? What will that feel like, I wonder?”

“Well,” Billy says, clapping a hand on Lucas’s shoulder and catching his attention with a sly smile. “Have you ever considered piracy? Got this hunch you’d make a pretty good Dread Pirate Roberts.”

And with another clap on the shoulder, Billy rocks himself awkwardly out the window.

Lucas shrugs and follows after.

They mount up and ride to safety, not stopping till dawn, which they watch from a hilltop overlooking rolling fields for miles. They all pause at the view, Will’s jaw dropped in wonder, Robin wondering how to get off her horse, Max’s arms remaining tight around Lucas despite the blood. And Lucas notices. He smiles.

They’re safe. Free.

Billy’s been watching Steve’s profile or his back for the entire night’s ride, and now all he wants is a glimpse of Steve’s face in this perfect morning light. Wants to see the change freedom brings there.

As if hearing Billy’s silent wish, Steve turns back to him. Smiles. Holds a hand out, inviting. And Billy accepts that invitation; rides his horse up close beside. Whispers to it to stay and be steady.

“Still talking to horses, I see,” Steve says, his smile growing as soft as his lips. And Billy wants to kiss him. Wants to feel that softness again.

“Horses do what I say,” he says instead, pinning up a little grin, eyes still studying those lips.

Steve’s smile widens.

“And I don’t?” he says. Knowing the answer.

Billy chuckles.

“Not ever.”

“But you do what I say,” Steve says, soft, and that smile loses even more definition as his eyes focus in on Billy’s mouth. Catch up with where Billy’s been all along. Same page. Billy doesn’t see those eyes shift. Doesn’t need to. Can feel the soft touch of that new concentration brushing his lips.

“Always,” Billy whispers. Leans closer. Watches Steve do the same, moving to match as true as a reflection.

They’re meant to be this close. Closer.

“Then do what I say now,” Steve whispers back. “Kiss me.”

And Billy licks his lip in anticipation. Can’t refuse an order whispered pretty like that, now can he? Not from Steve.

“No problem, Princess.”

Their lips touch. Are meant to be touching. Together.

They kiss, the new day dawning before them, bright with possibility. They don’t really give a shit. Ignore the dawn and the trill of birdsong. Ignore everything. Exist on a plane of focus only large enough to encompass the press of their lips where they join. As one.

Since the invention of the kiss, there have been five kisses that have been rated the most passionate, the most pure. This kiss leaves them all behind.

The end.

#harringrove #harringrove fanfic #princess bride au #it's done!#and glorious!

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