#without morals Steve destroying Billy would've been fun but no. my boy is gone. And it's more fun as an act of devotion from his people any

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 90

Part 1 Part 89

For a group who’s routinely suffered through supernatural shenanigans, they’re not getting any better at these planning sessions. They always take too long and devolve into yelling at each other.

“Why don’t we just go in and turn the heater on?” Max asks, gesturing toward Will’s house like she couldn’t care less about any of this. “You heard that girl, you need to warm him up.”

“Yeah, we need to cut the connection before Supergirl closes the gate,” Eddie says, gesturing jerkily toward where Wayne had driven away. He doesn’t look away from Steve as he runs his hands up and down any visible skin, like just the heat of his own body will bring Steve back. “Run a bath or something, we’ve just gotta make it fast.”

“He’s a spy,” Will says, interjecting what everyone else seems to have forgotten, he talks right over Dustin’s squawked “he’s a what?” to finish, “if he knows where we are, the dogs can find us again.”

That finally gets Eddie to look his way. “But they’re dead,” he says, peeking out the van door to look at the corpses littering the ground, shadowed by the falling darkness. 

Carol scoffs, shouldering her way into the van. She uses the heel of her shoe to kick the Demodog corpse out of the van before settling into one of the vacant seats that’s clear of glass. “You’re crazy if you think that’s all there is, Munson.”

Barbara follows her in, squeezing Steve’s shoulder as she passes and settles into the seat beside Carol, dropping the nailed bat between her spread thighs, but keeping her hand around it, ready to squeeze. 

Will watches the two girls, transfixed. They’re both splattered with blood and shiny with sweat, leaning into each other like that’s where they belong. Will’s heard Eddie complain about Carol that he knows it shouldn’t work.

Carol’s stuck up. Carol’s preppy. Carol’s conceited, all in long-winded rants that Steve just sighs at. But Barbara’s been on the peripherals of Will’s life long enough that he knows she ticks some of those same boxes.

And they’re both looking at the rest of the party loitering out on the lawn with the same snide look, eyebrows raised, lips pursed. 

“Well?” Carol demands. “Are you waiting for those Demo-whatevers to come and kill us, or are we going to get the hell out of here?”

Everyone piles in, one atop of another as they try to find seats. Mike settles beside Will, shoulders pressed together. Something snake-coiled and tight in his gut loosens. Will leans into Mike’s side. 

“Eddie, sweetie, can you start this thing again?” Mom calls, settling into the driver’s seat. 

“Where are we going anyway?” Mike asks, looking at Will for answers he doesn’t have.

But, as Eddie trips up to help Mom with the car, Will jumps up, calling “don’t say anything!” to his perpetually loud friends as he ties Wayne’s flannel back over Steve’s eyes, and putting Jonatha’s headphones over his ears after rewinding the tape and hitting play. 

“You meant that literally?” Dustin demands. “Steve’s a spy?”

“For what?” Max asks.

“The Mind Flayer,” Mike replies, looking up at Steve with a sully expression. 

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Dustin demands.

“It fits!”

“Does it?” Lucas asks, smiling that sneaky smile at all of them.

Barbara’s the one that scoffs this time, throat clicking with the force of it. “Is this really what matters right now?”

“Yes!” Mike cries, just as Dustin lets out a resigned, “no.”

The van starts up with a cheer from Eddie, and Mom starts driving. 

“Go to the Harrington house,” he orders, settling into the passenger seat, even as he looks back at Steve like he can’t help but to take him in. 

Mom dutifully backs out of the driveway, heading that way as everyone argues about the intelligence of going somewhere Steve knows so well.

It’s Carol who snaps in, snide and mean. “Where else are we going to get an empty house to sweat it out of him?” she demands, not waiting long enough for anyone else to answer as she settles back into her seat with crossed arms. “Besides, those bastards can pay for the heating bill.”

Eddie’s laugh rings out, bitter and hollow from the front seat as he meets Carol’s eyes, something nameless and understanding passing between them. Will gets it. Steve hadn’t wanted to talk to his parents even from hell. He hasn’t been back in months. That’s not something that comes about from a loving relationship with one’s parents.

Will would know. He never wants to see Lonnie again. Not after Mom’s black eye and Jonathan’s broken arm. 

Some bodies are better left buried. 

Some bodies are crawling out of their own shallow graves. That becomes obvious when Max gasps, squishing her nose against the back window of the van, just as a car, something loud and sporty squeals on its tires as it takes a turn too fast. 

Will doesn’t know how long it’s been behind them. None of them do, with the way they’d been arguing among themselves, squabbling over logistics when there was a fox trying to sneak into the henhouse. 

They’re not sneaking any more.

“He’s following us,” Max says, face washed-out and pale against her flaming hair as she turns away from the window, back to the door as she huddles down into herself.

“Who?” Lucas asks, rushing up beside her to crouch beside her, peeking obviously out of the window. “Is that Billy?”

“Who–” Mom starts to ask.

“My stepbrother,” Max says, hands shaking subtly where they’re dangling between her knees. “He’ll kill me.”

She pulls Lucas down beside her, shoving him down past the lip of the window. As if her stepbrother hadn’t already seen them both.

Mom hums, but keeps driving, speeding up enough that the turns make them all fling around, lurching back and forth with the momentum of the tires. It doesn’t work. The car just keeps following them, close enough that the headlights illuminate the dark interior of the van. The whites of Max’s eyes are shining. 

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” Mom calls, finally pulling into the Harrington’s long, dark driveway, and pulling the van all the way in and putting it in park. “He won’t get anywhere near you.”

Mom steps out of the van just as the car pulls to a stop, tires squealing showily. When he steps out, he doesn’t bother to turn off his car. His headlights beam across the Harrington driveway, painting his Mom in light. 

Her hands are raised, like Billy’s holding a gun, even as he smiles charmingly at her and holds out his hand for a shake. Mom takes it, but she’s still wary, and she holds her hands up again in supplication. 

It’s a body posture Will hasn’t seen in a long time. Not since Lonnie had driven away after slamming the door so hard the front window broke. It makes him queasy to see it now. 

Will can’t hear what they’re saying, but Billy’s smile is fixed, painted on and empty. Max scoots back further into the van, like she can phase straight through the metal into somewhere else. Somewhere better.

Will knows that body posture well, too. Remembers it in the slope of his own shoulders, the futile squeezing of his fists when they were small and futile.

Mom takes a step back, covering the entrance to the van with the width of her arms, smile cracking along the edges as her deescalation of the situation shatters beneath her feet. Billy shoves past her, knocking her to the side. She keeps her feet, but it doesn’t matter: Billy’s already in front of the door, looking inside.

He’s not looking at Max, though. His eyes are trained on Steve, wide, smile unfurling from his mouth, all teeth and jagged edges.

It drops a second later as he hunches over just enough to bully his way into the van. “King Steve Harrington,” he drawls, stretching out Steve’s first name like it means something. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

He walks toward Steve like he’s pulled, hand reaching toward his face. To help or to hurt, Will doesn’t know. But it doesn’t matter because Carol launches out of her chair and tackles Billy with enough force to send him stumbling back out of the van, sprawling in the driveway, Carol on top of him.

“What the fuck?” he cries, shoving Carol in the breastbone. “Get off me, you bitch!”

She doesn’t. “You don’t fucking touch him,” she snarls, something wild and animal emerging as she bites his arm. It almost looks like instinct when he pulls his hand back, punching her straight in the face. 

She’s flung off him with the force, falling into Mom who’d come to help her and taking her down with her in a messy, writhing heap. 

Eddie springs free from the passenger seat and darts out the open driver’s side door. 

“Maxine!” Billy snarls, loud in the quiet night’s air. He’s holding the back of his head, and when he removes it, Will can see the bright red of blood shining in Billy’s headlights. “I’m going to fucking kill–”

He doesn’t get to finish. Eddie barrels into him at full speed, tackling him back into the pavement and swinging wildly. Carol crawls over to help, snatching arms and legs and hair as the lights of nosy neighbor's flicker on all around them, rich people ready for a show. 

Part 91

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