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dragonflylady77 · 2 months

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Mr Steve and the Monster Hunter

Only a couple of chapters to go now... @bigbangharringrove

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Ao3

In which Billy has BIG feelings

Chapter 5 - He's awake

Billy hears footsteps outside his door but whoever it is doesn’t knock. The footsteps move away after a minute. He keeps his eyes closed and goes back to focus on his breathing, content in the knowledge that his staff respect the Do Not Disturb memo.

He knows he’s on borrowed time. He’s been hiding out for a week and Max will no doubt come bursting through the door soon, of that he is sure. Once she decides he’s spent enough time wallowing. God knows she’s pestered him enough through the years about having feelings and working through them that she should know to give him some time to process them.

He nearly lost Steve to a fucking demogorgon. Even if Steve isn’t his to have, and might never be, that near miss in the Upside Down shook Billy to his core. He knew it was a bad idea to let Steve come with them and he regrets letting the guy challenge his decision and make him change his mind. Too many years have passed since Steve was anywhere near danger like that and he lacks the training Billy, Lucas, and even Will, have.

Billy

Yeah

He’s awake

Thank fuck

Relief floods his system and Billy feels tears flow down his cheeks. He does nothing to stop them. Steve is awake. He must be okay or El would have said something. Billy knows that the doctor said Steve will be okay physically, once he’s recovered from the surgery, but there was no way of knowing how he would be affected mentally.

Billy remembers all too well Robin and Max mentioning Steve complaining of ringing in his ears and migraines following one too many bumps on the head when they grappled with the Upside Down and its monsters fifteen years ago. Robin also mentioned something about Russians under the mall but Billy never felt the need to ask about that. No point rehashing bad memories.

The footsteps are back and this time there is a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Billy says with a sigh, getting off the floor in the corner of the room where he’s been holed up for a few hours. He glances at the opening door and finds his sister. “Hey, shitbird.”

“He speaks,” Max counters, sarcasm heavy in her voice. She stops on the other side of the couch Billy drops his sore body on. Maybe sitting on the floor wasn’t the best idea. “Are you done with your pity party yet? Your man’s awake, you should go see him.”

“Max…” Billy is tired of having this conversation. She doesn’t listen, and neither do El and Robin. The second they found out he was still harboring a crush on Steve, they started referring to him as Billy’s, and refused to stop. Heather usually rolls her eyes and changes the subject. Billy sighs and runs a tired hand through his hair. “He nearly died on my watch. He had to have surgery and was in a coma for a week, for fuck’s sake.”

“He’s alive, and confined to a hospital bed. Best time to confess your undying love, really.”

“Oh my fucking god, Max. It’s not gonna happen.”

“Oh yes it is. And you know how I know?” She looks way too smug and Billy hates it.

“Enlighten me, oh wise one.” He wants to roll his eyes but Max is within kicking range and he’d like to keep his shins unbruised, thank you very much.

“He asked where you were.”

“Ooooh, yeah, wow.” Billy has to laugh or he’ll start crying again. “Jeez, Max, you better get the wedding invitations in the mail, I guess me and Harrington are getting hitched!”

“Jesus, you really are a butthead.” Max sits next to him on the couch and Billy only narrowly avoids the punch to his shoulder because he leans away from her.

“You’re the one who came in here all excited for something that exists only in your brain”—Billy sees the look Max gives him and amends—“fine, and mine.”

“Billy, he asked if you were okay, and sounded worried after Rob told him what had happened. And I told him to think about why you have been calling him by all those pet names you like so much.”

“You didn’t! Oh my fucking god. Why?”

“Because, brother dear, you deserve to be happy, and I have it on good authority—”

“You mean Robin.”

“Yes, of course, I mean Robin, the lesbian mother of your child and kinda best friend of your soon-to-be boyfriend. Based on a chat she had with him the night you dragged him into the Upside Down, he only needs a little push and he’ll open his eyes to what he really wants.”

“Oh, really? And what’s that?”

“Stop being an asshole. You know I mean you. I am not at liberty to repeat what was told to me in confidence but if you do not go to him now and at least talk to him, I swear to God…”

She doesn’t finish the sentence and Billy does not need her to. He knows that she will follow through with whatever she threatens him with and it’s definitely in his best interest to not push her that far. She can be real scary when she wants to and he takes some pride in that.

***

Billy hears Livi’s babble before he gets to the room and it makes him smile as he walks up to the open door. He knocks and waits. Livi is sitting on the bed across from Steve and whatever story she is telling him stops when she hears knocking and notices Steve’s attention is no longer on her.

“Daddy!” Livi exclaims excitedly. “I bringed Mr Snorkles for Mr Steve to keep him safe.”

“That was really nice of you, princess,” Billy says as he walks into the room and stops by the foot of the bed. “Where did your mom go?”

Livi shrugs then turns on her knees and shuffles towards Billy until she’s close enough to wrap her little arms around him for a cuddle. “Me and Auntie Janie gotted a chocolate cupcake for Mr Steve and Mommy took me to give it to him cos Auntie Janie needed to get back to work.”

“I think she’s ringing Heather,” Steve adds, locking eyes with him.

Livy moves back to where she was before, and starts her story again. Billy feels the heat in his chest ramp up a notch. His fingers tingle as he notices Steve’s gaze move down then back up, stopping on his mouth before finding his eyes again.

“Okay. Thanks.”

He really needs to keep his power under control around Steve, especially after what happened in the Upside Down. He makes a mental note to talk to El about it. Hopefully she has some special trick to ensure he doesn’t raze an entire city block if he ever gets his mouth on the guy. Fuck. Thinking about it only makes the tingles worse. Ugh.

“Right, sweetie, are you ready to go?” Robin enters the room and stops when three pairs of eyes land on her. “Hey, B.” She smiles and approaches the bed, stopping by Billy for a quick hug.

“Heather okay?” Billy asks, watching as Robin gathers their daughter’s coloring book and felt pens and shoves them in her backpack, then adds Mr Snorkles before she zips it up.

“Yep. She had another nap. Olivia, say goodbye, sweetie.” Robin busies herself getting Livi’s shoes back on.

“Mommy, I didn’t finish telling Mr Steve my story about the seals at the beach.”

“It’s okay, Olivia. You can tell me next time I see you. Or you could draw a picture about it, so I have something nice to put on the wall,” Steve says with a grin and Billy can see how taken with the idea Livi is.

Once her shoes are on, and Robin has successfully wrestled the little girl into her green sweater, she gives Steve a wave. Billy picks her up before she can hop off the bed and wraps his arms around her as he walks them to the door, Robin following after she says her own goodbyes to Steve.

“I’ll see you soon, okay, princess?” Billy tells Livi, kissing her cheek. “You be good for Mommy and give Mama a hug when you get home.”

“Yes, Daddy.” Livi traces the scar on his left cheek with her finger in a move he knows well. Something is bothering her.

Billy stops in his tracks and feels Robin walk around them and into the hallway. “What’s wrong, baby girl?”

They had a big talk about the incident once she and her moms arrived in San Diego last week. El had rung Robin then opened a portal to pick them up, quicker and safer. Heather had stayed behind at Billy’s house while Robin sat with Steve, and El had brought Livi to Billy because she knew his daughter would be the person to snap him out of the spiral he was in.

She lets out a little sigh and glances up at him. “Is Mr Steve gonna be okay without Mr Snorkles?”

Robin chuckles next to him. “Aw, sweetie, don’t worry. He’s gonna be just fine now that your daddy is here.”

Billy sends Robin a sharp look but she raises one eyebrow at him. He wonders what she knows but won’t tell him. She’s like Max in that way, hinting but not sharing. It’s infuriating but there’s not much he can do about it.

“B. Give me this child.” she says, picking up Livi from him and putting her down on the ground, holding her hand. She pats his shoulder with her free hand in that slightly standoffish way of hers he’s grown fond of over the years and gives him a grin. “Go get your man, okay?”

“Rob…”

“No.” She shakes her head. “No more running. He’s here. He’s alive.” Her eyes narrow as she stares him down with that eyebrow raised. “More importantly, he finally knows you are alive.”

Billy takes the hit. Robin, Max and El have been on his case for a few years now, wanting to know why he wouldn’t let Steve know he was alive. It wasn’t like he swore them to secrecy or anything, he just… didn’t see the point. Heather agreed with him, more out of loyalty and trauma bonding than anything.

Steve is a fantasy, an unattainable dream that refuses to die. Billy sighs.

“Hey,” Robin pipes up again, squeezing his bicep. “You can have this, I promise you, if only you let yourself. I wouldn’t lie to you. You know that. Not about anything, but especially not about this. I know how long you’ve been wanting this. Wanting him. And I know you’re scared—”

“Daddy isn’t scared of anything, Mommy,” Livi interjects, making them laugh.

“Olivia, sweetie, I’ll tell you a little secret. Your daddy might not be scared of monsters, but he’s scared of being loved.”

Billy glares at Robin but says nothing because, well, she’s not wrong.

“I love you, Daddy,” Livi says, taking Billy’s hand in hers, as a show of proof. “And Mama and Mommy love you. And Auntie Max and Auntie Janie love you too.”

“Yes, thank you, princess. I love you too.” Billy smiles down at her and gives her little hand a squeeze.

She looks at him with her big blue eyes and he knows he’ll do anything she asks of him. “Daddy?”

“Yes?” As much as Billy thinks he braced himself for the inevitable follow-up question, when it leaves his daughter’s mouth, he finds that he wasn’t ready for it.

“Do you love Mr Steve?”

“Um…”

“Only I heard Mama and Mommy talk about it with Auntie Janie yesterday. The yelling waked me up.” She looks at Robin. “Sorry, Mommy, I know it’s rude to earsdrop.”

It never fucking ends… Now they have his daughter in on it. Billy takes a deep breath and decides he’s tired of fighting against the current. Maybe it’s time to listen to what the women in his life are telling him. He’ll shoot his shot and when nothing comes of it, at least, he’ll have closure and he’ll be able to move on.

“Okay. Fine. You win, Buckley. I’ll tell him. And when he kicks me out of his room, we can never mention it again.”

“Whatever, Hargrove. It’s gonna go so well I might hire a plane to write ‘I told you so’ in the sky at your wedding.” With another smirk, she picks Livi’s hand from his and nods towards the room. “Get your ass in there, B. We’ll see you later at home.”

“Good luck, Daddy!” Livi calls out as she follows her mother down the hallway.

Billy stands there watching them disappear towards the elevator, wondering when he became so easy to read.

“Billy? You still here?” Steve’s voice reaches him through the door.

The open door.

Fuck!

Kicking himself for letting Robin drag him into this conversation so close to the subject of it and wondering how much Steve actually heard, Billy heads back into the room, forcing himself to walk all the way to the bed. The instinct to run is clamoring in his head and he stamps down on it before El shows up in his mind again.

He sits on the side of the bed instead of the chair, one knee bent, and lets himself look at the man in the bed. Steve looks exhausted, his hair needs a good brushing, and Billy can see the edge of some of his bandages in the vee of the hospital gown. The nurses had to shave Steve’s chest hair before the surgery and Billy knows first hand how itchy and annoying it’s gonna get when it grows back.

The nurses have kept Steve clean shaven but there’s some stubble on his jaw now that Billy would give a lot of things to be able to touch. He blinks away but can feel Steve staring right at him.

“Hey,” Billy says, not sure about anything anymore. He watches, heart in his throat, as Steve’s long fingers tangle with his on the blue hospital blanket.

“Billy, look at me. Please?”

Billy does what he’s asked and there’s something in Steve’s brown eyes that makes the want inside him claw at his throat. His mouth is dry and his hands clammy, and he can’t remember how to make words.

The tingles are back in his fingers, and they’re moving up his arms and centering in his chest. The cup of water on the side table in his peripheral vision starts to float slowly up, then it’s the magazine on the chair. When the call button for the nurse starts moving off Steve’s pillow, Billy closes his eyes tightly and forces himself to take deep breaths and visualize the objects back where they belong.

He feels a pull on his arm, then he’s lying across Steve’s body with his head on Steve’s chest and Steve’s arms around him. He hears a clatter when his power suddenly cuts off and the cup crashes on the floor.

“Sorry,” he whispers. His heart stops when Steve starts running his fingers in Billy’s hair, and Billy suddenly misses his longer hair in a way he hasn’t in years, not since the Incident, when he woke up alone in hospital with a shaved head and a hole in his chest.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Steve whispers, his fingers moving from Billy’s head to his nape, then his shoulders and his back, tracing patterns Billy doesn’t try to decipher.

Billy moves his arms closer to Steve, fingers almost touching his sides.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, from a few people today, Billy.” Steve continues to stroke Billy’s back as he speaks and Billy lets himself enjoy it.

The soft touches feel warm and good and he never wants them to stop. Steve keeps talking.

“I understand why you wouldn’t let me know you were alive. Heather was very clear about the fact that you and I were not friends and you don’t owe me anything. But I owe you. I owe you, Billy.”

“No, you don’t.” Billy’s words are muffled by Steve’s hospital gown but Billy doesn’t want to lift his head. He can hear Steve’s heart and it’s beating a little bit fast, but that means Steve is alive and it’s the most beautiful sound Billy has ever heard, besides his daughter.

“I owe you an apology for not giving you a chance back in high school. Especially after that stupid fight at the Byers’. We could have become friends after that mess was cleared. Then you wouldn’t have been…” Steve stops talking and his fingers dig into Billy’s back a little bit.

Billy gives himself a moment to imagine what that could have looked like, being friends with Steve that year, meeting at the quarry for a beer, hanging outside the arcade and having a smoke or two while the kids played their games, going to see Steve at the mall and make fun of that stupid sailor suit that looked so fucking good on him the few times Billy had seen him from a distance. Steve coming around to the pool while Billy worked and maybe, just maybe, stealing kisses in the showers once the pool was closed for the day…

Then Steve relaxes his hold and continues, “It took me a long time to put a name to how I felt and I did my best to avoid thinking about it, about you, but then you showed up at school to pick up Olivia and I knew.”

“You knew?” Billy whispers, wary of breaking the spell.

“Billy, I missed you.”

Chapter 6

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #harringrove big bang #harringrove bigbang #harringrovebigbang #dragonflylady77 #mr steve and the monster hunter #mr snorkles

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lorifragolina · 4 months

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Fortune Favours the Brave

Rating: T Relationship: Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove WT: None Words: 2314 Harringrove droplets

This is the first Harringrove I posted... Harringrove is my bloved ship and this series is one of my favourite, I planned some domestic life of them in Cali... Hope you enjoy!

Billy Hargrove ran away the night after graduation.

He grabbed a bag of clothes, some tapes and his few precious things.

At 4 a.m, he woke up his sister and said goodbye just to her.

- Ehi, shitbird- he lightly shook up Max who opened her eyes with difficulty.

- Shitbird, I’m leaving - he whispered.

- Where? - muttered Max with a sleepy voice, confused.

- To Cali. I will call you sometimes, ok? Don’t be worried-.

He hugged Max, who frankly was having trouble understanding.

- Ok- Max weakly returned the hug, and then Billy closed the door behind him and disappeared. Max was almost convinced to have a strange dream until morning.

He stole his father’s hidden money, threw his bag in the trunk and closed the driver door. He took a deep breath and started the car.

Billy drove down the street until Hawkins exit with his heart in his mouth. It was more difficult getting to the highway, forcing himself not to stop in a particular place, than all the road in the following three days.

He called Max a couple of times from the road, talking only if she picked up in person, and she kept the secret with their family and friends. Billy was thinking of returning to San Diego, but at last he decided to go to Los Angeles, for a fresh start. He found a lifeguard job in a fancy resort near Venice Beach, surfing in spare time or simply sitting on the beach in the sun, feeling the heat in his face and enjoying a sort of inner peace. Sometimes he had to fight a particular biting thought from back in Hawkins, but after all he felt things going smooth for the first time in ages.

That day of July was torrid, but the ocean breeze refreshed the air in the evening. Billy ended his shift and walked to his car smoking, smelling the glow of the sunset and thinking of the little pleasures waiting at home, a beer and a fruit salad he made in the morning and the Valley view in the night from his terrace.

He had to stop suddenly and look two times to be sure, and the hand that was holding the cig stopped in middle air. He had to hold his breath, and the smoke got off his mouth alone, creating a halo between his eyes and the person in front of him.

- Harrington- he whispered. Am I dreaming…

Steve Harrington was standing against his BMW, shorts, a short sleeve floral shirt unbuttoned above his pecs, boat shoes and his green Wayfarer on his face, a cig burning lazily in his hand.

- Yes, it’s me, amigo - smiled Steve, taking off his sunglasses with a grin. His hair was a little longer, he looked tired and unkempt, but his eyes were sparkling.

Billy snickered and smiled in return, his throat getting dry for the surprise, and speechless for an instant.

- What are you doin’ here? -

Steve took a drag of his cig as it would be absolutely normal being there, two thousand miles away from his home.

- A little holiday- he let the smoke off and looked at Billy so intensely that he had to lower his eyes.

A little holiday from my misery thought Steve. I was heartbroken when you disappeared .

- Don’t you always live on holiday? - mocked Billy.

- Well, not always… - whispered Steve, very slightly. - The pool parties aren't the same without you- answered then, copying Billy's mocking tone.

- I’m sure you had a good time anyway-.

I threw that party just for you. Steve squinted.

—-

- Curious you have a pool at home but you’re so lame at swimming- mocked Billy, gasping hardly after their race at school’s pool. Billy won but had a hard time competing with him, winning just for a second. He was painting, and Steve appeared almost fresh and relaxed.

- Pool at home is not for training, it’s for showing…- Billy wasn’t sure, because he was drying himself with the towel, but Steve apparently blinked him an eye after staring at his body with a glance.

- Well, they say you don’t show it a lot…-

Steve stared at him, this time Billy was sure he was chewing his cheek.

- What if I throw a graduation party- said Steve at the end.

Billy blushed a little against his will. - No way I’m missing this-.

And indeed he missed it.

Nobody noticed Billy was gone until the party, two days after graduation day, nor Steve. He waited heartbroken all night and Billy didn’t show up. He was nowhere to be found and nobody knew anything.

——

I would wait for you at the pool in the starlight and I would come near you and I would touch you, thought Steve, knowing he did all that just to kiss Billy and tell him his feelings.

The light breeze caught the ash on Steve’s shirt. Billy came nearer, eyes chained to Steve’s, and gently dusted off the ash from the other. Steve hold his breath and moved forward just a little. Billy blushed slightly and smiled.

- Where do you stay?- whispered Billy.

- At the Plaza- chuckled Steve, looking at him with a grin. - I will look for a place later-.

Billy tilted his head to the Camaro - Come with me. Come on-.

Steve opened his car. - Let your car here. There’s security all night, nobody’ll touch it-

Steve appeared still hesitant. - You could never follow me on these streets- grinned Billy, and finally Steve took his bag and opened the passenger door of the Camaro.

Billy drove out of the city and up the hill. Steve looked at him furtively for a while, he was more tanned than in Indiana, his curls were a little longer and blonder, he looked glowing in the sunset light through the car window, really matching the heat and the atmosphere, Steve couldn’t help but think he was absolutely stunning.

At a crosslight, Billy suddenly turned to him and caught his stare. Steve turned his face away, blushing, and couldn’t see Billy blushing in turn.

- How do you find me? - asked Billy after a while. The boulevard was crowded and they were stucking in a traffic jam.

Steve sighted, without looking at him.

I don’t feel proud to rob to a little girl, but I’m happy I found how to track you.

——

Steve passed a few days in a horrible mood. He couldn’t stop thinking of Billy and how empty he felt now he had run away without any warning. He was hurt, because he and Billy had grown a little closer in the last months, but Billy did not consider him trustworthy. And he was angry and sad because he had no hope to know where he went. Nobody seemed to care about him, Billy had little to no friends and he couldn’t simply go around asking. He would ask Max, but he couldn’t explain to her why he wanted to know. Because I wanted to kiss him and I’m heartbroken wasn’t something he felt comfortable to say.

But one day the kids came for a pool afternoon at his home and Max sneaked to his father’s studio to make a phone call. He didn’t mean it, but he overheard her talking hidden there while passing in the hallway.

- .. he doesn’t let me pick up anymore! - she was saying. And then - … ok, I stay at El’s this weekend, call Hopper’s cabin…-

Lucas came from the living room calling Max, and Steve ran away to the kitchen. Max rapidly closed the call and came out of the studio, Steve could see she put a piece of paper in her pocket.

No, he didn’t feel proud when he searched her pockets when she undressed to go swimming, but when he dialed the number and a kind girl answered the phone from a country club in Los Angeles, near Santa Monica Boulevard, he knew it was worth the shame. It wasn’t difficult to ask the kind girl for directions and it was enough for him to jump in the car, and leave like Billy six weeks before.

——

- How do you find me? - asked Billy.

- I told you, I was around. I spotted your car and I try-.

Billy looked at him, but didn’t say anything.

They left the city center behind them and Billy started to drive faster up the hill, to the Valley. He had to admit that he probably couldn’t follow him on that road. He enjoyed the view of the valley and the big houses they passed by.

- Where are we going? You live here? - asked Steve.

- You’ll see- grinned Billy, grabbing the wheel stronger.

His heart was racing almost as fast as his car. Steve was the last person he expected to see, there or in another part of the world. But he was the only person he, deep inside and against his will, would see again with all his heart.

Billy opened a gate with a remote and stopped the car in front of a fancy condo with a view on the lights of the city.

Steve whistled. - You live here? How do you… -

Billy grinned and showed him the way, through the garden and the elevator, and then opened a door on a lavish apartment, with an elegant living room and an enormous glass wall to the balcony. Billy closed the door behind Steve and enjoyed his wide eyes.

- It’s my boss’. He and most of the other people are out for summer. He let me stay to keep an eye around- .

He showed Steve the guest room, lingering a little on the door, looking at him near the bed, but then he went away. Steve placed his bag and went to look around.

The place was tidy and cozy, he could feel Billy’s presence but it wasn’t the messy bachelor place he was expecting at first.

And there was a spectacular pool out in the garden.

- Look who has a pool to show now!- he laughed, and Billy smiled too.

- Yeah, basically all for myself now. You can have your party if you want- . Billy said it lightly, then he bit his lips, but the words were already out. The truth was, he was thinking about the pool party from the moment Steve said it.

- Just the two of us? - whispered Steve, his heart pounding wildly.

Billy nodded. His face was red and he tried to hide it from Steve.

He really wanted to go to the graduation party at Steve’s. He was daydreaming about him emerging from the pool, all glowing for the droplets and the starlight, and getting close to him, and looking him in the eyes, and maybe…

But the days before graduation had been a living hell at home. Billy really needed to go away, it was either kill or be killed, and he sneaked away in the night as the coward he was.

If, if only you let me get closer, if you let me touch you, if you let me… I won’t be brave enough to leave at last.

Billy grabbed the kitchen counter until his knuckles became white. Sometimes, back in Hawkins, he felt that Steve was testing the waters with him, so to speak, and now he was there, but… probably it was only for a simple holiday, as he told earlier.

Steve appeared in front of him in his trunks. Billy indulged a second too much on the shape of his body, and he tried to hide his blushing and shaking, collecting some beers from the fridge.

Steve sat on the edge of the pool, moving his feet in the water. He cracked a beer and looked at Billy taking off the shirt and cleanly diving. Steve already saw his grace and strength at the school swimming pool, and his heart exploded for pleasure.

Billy swam a little, then emerged at Steve’s side, putting a hand near his’ in the edge. Steve held his breath looking him in the eyes, waiting for a move of his hand and wishing for it. He moved towards him but Billy reached out for the beers and grabbed a can, lowering his eyes. He looked at the lights from the city and Steve looked at them too. They were alone, there were only the lights of the pool and the light rustle of the summer breeze between them.

Steve slipped into the pool. Billy stayed lazily leaning on the side, looking at Steve with the corner of his eyes and trying to stay cool, shaking internally. Steve got nearer and Billy was forced to turn in front of him and face him.

Steve looked to his eyes fiercely, and Billy’s eyelids flickered under his glare. Droplets dancing on his arms and chest hair, he was shining and Billy couldn’t simply think of anything else.

Steve took a long breath and reached out to his arm, tracing the shape of his biceps with a finger. He moved a wet curl from Billy’s neck and rubbed the hand on his nape. Billy closed his eyes while he drew near and they felt each other breath.

I wanted to kiss you at the pool party.

They lightly touched their lips, they were salty and chlorine and warm, and Billy hugged Steve hips with a soft moaning, and Steve smiled on his lips.

He caressed his cheek and looked him again into the eyes.

- I knew…- whispered Steve, resting his forehead on Billy’s forehead, in pure bliss.

- What…?- whispered Billy in return.

- I knew that if I kissed you I would never be able to return to Hawkins- smiled Steve.

Billy smiled suddenly, with wet and watery eyes. - Then you’re braver than me- mumbled with a broken voice, cupping Steve’s face and peppering a lot of sweet kiss on his lips.

That night they felt brave enough not to leave each other's arms.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #writing #harringrove #steve harrington #steve x billy #stranger things fanfic

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sourwolf-sterek32 · 1 year

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The Chief’s Daughter

Summary: It had been six years since your father left you behind in New York. However, now that your mother was gone, you had no choice but to drive to Hawkins to find him. That's where you meet Billy Hargrove, who turns your life upside down... literally.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: language, blood

Chapter 18-

"Once I graduate and save up enough money, I'm out of here." Billy had said back during your first day of school together.

"Where do you want to go?" You had asked.

"Back to Cali."

"Got room for one more?"

California was more beautiful than you had ever imagined.

The Byers had packed up and moved across the country a few months after Starcourt, taking El with them. Joyce was now her legal guardian, but she was still your little sister. She was your responsibility now that Hopper was gone.

Billy didn't even hesitate to follow you to California.

The two of you now rented a beachside apartment only a couple blocks from the Byers house. El and Will always came over, Jonathan and his friend Argyle usually with them too.

Billy had gotten a job at the local garage, training as a mechanic which he seemed to be enjoying. He sent half his paycheck to the Mayfield's every fortnight, wanting Susan to be able to afford new things for Max as well as pay off the bills that his father had dumped on her.

You had gotten a job at the library down the street, mainly because it was quiet and didn’t require much talking.

You had been trying to put on a brave face ever since Starcourt. Trying to cover your pain with bright smiles and laughter around Billy and the others, but at work you were able to stop pretending. You didn't have to smile, you didn't have to pretend to be happy, not when you were just stacking books on shelves or helping the occasional stranger find a certain novel.

Work was your escape, and you knew that was fucked up, but it was. You were tired of having to pretend that you were okay, but at the same time, you didn't want Billy, El or the Byers to know how you really felt.

Billy knew you were hurting, despite how hard you tried to hide it. He was worried about you, but you kept brushing off his concerns. There was nothing he could do to help you, not unless he could bring Hopper back from the dead.

"You okay? You've barely said anything the entire drive." Billy commented, glancing over at you from the driver seat of the Camaro.

You watched as Billy sped past the old 'Welcome to Hawkins' sign as you entered the town. But someone had crossed out Hawkins and wrote HELL instead and you thought that seemed rather fitting.

"Just tired." You lied, leaning your head back against the headrest.

Billy eyed you out the corner of his eye, knowing that was bullshit, but decided not to call you out on it and instead focused back on the road as he drove in the direction of the Trailer Park.

The two of you had managed to get a week off work to come back to Hawkins and visit Max. It was a surprise for her birthday, the new skateboard on the backseat a present you guys had saved up for and wanted to give to her in person.

It didn't take long before Billy turned off into the Trailer Park, actually slowing down to the speed limit as he squinted at the numbers on each trailer trying to find the correct one.

You leant forward and cranked up the stereo, blasting Scorpions Rock You Like A Hurricane causing Billy to start laughing catching on to what you were doing before he rolled the windows down.

A few old people sitting by their Winnebago's glared at you as you drove past, the music way to loud, but Billy just grinned and pulled up in front of the trailer and revved the engine loudly.

A few seconds later, the front door of the trailer slammed open. Max stepped out, her red hair wild and eyes wider than you had ever seen them as she stared at the Camaro in utter shock.

"Holy shit!" She shouted.

"Language, shitbird." Billy warned, but there was no anger behind it.

He pulled the key out the ignition, stopping the music before he climbed out the car. He barely had enough time to close the door before he was being wrapped into a tight hug and he chuckled and hugged her back.

You smiled softly watching the reunion as you climbed out the car and grabbed Max's birthday present from the backseat. It was wrapped with Christmas wrapping paper because you couldn't find any birthday themed paper, although it didn't need to be wrapped at all because it was shaped as a skateboard.

"Happy late birthday, Mad Max" Billy said, pulling away and pointing at you.

Max glanced over her shoulder and her eyes widened at the skateboard shaped present in your hands.

"No way!"

"Yes, way." You grinned, handing it to her.

She glanced between you and Billy like she couldn't quite believe it was true before she frantically teared the wrapping paper off. She flipped the new board over and her eyes widening into saucers at 'MAD MAX' painted on the bottom in large block letters.

"This is the best present ever!" She exclaimed, her smile brighter than you had ever seen it as she glanced over at you, but her smile faded. "Are you okay? Your nose is bleeding."

"Huh?" You frowned in confusion and reached for your nose, feeling something wet trickling down before you lowered your hand and found your fingertips-stained red.

"Shit, uh, there's a rag in the back of the Camaro." Billy said, already opening the trunk of the car and grabbing one of his cleaner rags and handing it to you. "You okay? I've never seen you get a nosebleed before."

You nodded, holding the rag to your nose to stop the blood.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. It's just a nosebleed."

Billy didn't seem convinced, but nodded before looking back at Max who had already drawn her focus back on the new skateboard.

"Can you take me to the skatepark? I have to test it out."

"I've been back for two fucking minutes and I'm already your personal chauffeur?"

"Yep." Max responded, popping the 'p' before slipping into the passenger seat of the Camaro causing you to laugh.

Billy sighed, but you could see the corners of his lips twitching up in a small smile before he glanced over at you with a questioning look.

"You guys go. I might try and find proper tissues in the trailer if that's cool, Max?" You said, glancing back at the girl already in the car.

"Mum keeps them on the kitchen bench."

You nodded, turning back to Billy who seemed hesitant to leave you here by yourself as if a bloody nose was something bad. You just rolled your eyes and pushed him towards the car with your free hand.

"I'll be fine. Go spend time with your sister."

Billy huffed out a sigh, but nodded, sparing one last glance at you before he climbed back into the driver's seat. The Camaro roared to life with the turn of his key, the music continued to blast, and you waved goodbye as they drove off.

You watched the blue car disappear out the Trailer Park before you turned to walk towards the front door of the Mayfield's place before a familiar voice called out your name.

"Y/N, that you?"

Glancing over your shoulder, you spotted Eddie Munson stepping out the trailer across the road.

Well shit, you were not expecting to see him here.

He wore the same ripped jeans and battle vest he used to wear back in High School. His hair seemed a little longer though, but you were more focused on the fact that he was walking over to you to notice anything else.

"Munson." You greeted with a small nod, lowering the rag from your nose and relieved to find that it was no longer bleeding.

Eddie paused, glancing at the bloodied rag before looking you up and down almost worriedly, "are you okay?"

"Yeah."

Eddie nodded, glancing around awkwardly like he wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure how. So, he remained silent for a few seconds before blurting out a bunch of words without taking a breath.

"Look, I know you and I weren't exactly close in school. I'd like to think we were at least friends, right? Doesn't matter, I just... I never got a chance to talk to you before you left town. I heard about the Starcourt fire. Well, the whole town heard, and I know you guys were there and I'm so sorry about your father. He might have given me a few speeding tickets over the years, but he was a good man."

'Hero Chief dies in fire'

That was the headline of the paper the morning after.

Everyone thought he had died saving you kids from the fire in Starcourt. Nobody knew the real truth. He didn't just save you guys, he closed the gate to the Upside Down and saved the entire world.

Nobody knew that the coffin they buried six months ago was empty. Nothing but his Police hat was inside because there wasn't a body to put in it. Nobody knew the truth and you hated that more than anything.

"The drug dealer saying a cop was a good man? Never thought I'd hear that." You responded sarcastically because if you didn't try and joke right now, you would start to cry, and you couldn't do that. You've cried enough over the last few months. You were sick of crying.

Eddie stared at you for a second and you feared he might try and be serious and say sorry again, but then his face broke out into a familiar grin.

"Never thought I'd say it." He admitted with a laugh. "How long are you and Billy in town for?"

"A week. Came back for Max's birthday."

Eddie nodded before glancing over at his car, "I got Hellfire now, but you guys should drop by tonight. I got good music and beer."

"We'll be there."

A few hours later, you and Billy were sitting outside the Munson trailer. Music blasting from Eddie's stereo while you drank cheap beer.

"If I knew your shit was this good, I would've bought from you back in school." Billy said, taking a final drag of the joint in his hand before flicking the butt away.

"He did offer to sell to you, but you sorta shot him down." You reminded causing Eddie to grin.

"Your girl's right, California."

"Yeah, yeah, just shut up and give me another one."

Eddie shook his head, "no, no, no. The first is on the house. The second will cost you. How else do you expect me to pay the bills for this shithole?" He said, motioning to the trailer behind him.

Billy raised his eyebrows, but Eddie didn't back down causing him to huff out a sigh before digging into his jacket pocket and pulling out a couple bills.

"Pleasure doing business with you." Eddie grinned, taking the cash and passing over the joint.

"Fucking rip off is what it is." Billy muttered, pocketing the joint for later.

It was odd seeing the two of them interacting like this. They had barely said more than a word to each other at school. They ran in different social circles, but if given a chance to get to know each other, you knew they'd become friends.

You smiled while listening to them as they started talking about Metallica's latest song, Master of Puppets. Eddie saying that he was trying to learn it on guitar while Billy said that he still liked The Four Horsemen better which then turned into a massive argument.

"Baby, help me out here." Billy begged, looking over at you, but you quickly shook your head.

"Oh, no. I am not getting in the middle of this."

"That's because you agree with me, right?" Eddie asked.

You chuckled softly, "you're both idiots."

"That's not a no." Eddie pointed out.

"Well, it's not a fucking yes either." Billy responded, glaring at Eddie before turning his attention back to you. "If you could only listen to one of those songs for the rest of your life, which one would you pick?"

"Neither. If I could only listen to one song for the rest of my life it would be Running up that Hill by Kate Bush. Sorry boys."

Eddie gasped and grabbed his chest dramatically, "you, Y/N Hopper, wound me. Kate Bush over Metallica? Really?"

"I still like Metallica."

"Nope. Too late, the damage has already been done." He said, causing you to snort before he turned to Billy. "You are my friend. Y/N is not."

"Lucky me." Billy muttered sarcastically.

You rolled your eyes and downed the last of your beer that had long ago turned warm, but you weren't about to waste free alcohol. Billy had finished his beer too and you met his eyes before glancing over at the Mayfield trailer.

"I think I'm going to head to bed. Thanks for the beer and music judgement, Munson." You said, glancing over at Eddie who just grinned.

"Anytime."

Billy stood up too, saying goodbye to Eddie before the two of you walked across the road to Susan and Max's trailer. The girls were already in bed asleep, so you guys quietly went straight to the spare bedroom that Susan had cleaned out for you earlier.

It felt like you only just managed to fall asleep before you woke up in a cold sweat from a nightmare.

Nightmares were a common occurrence since Starcourt. Sometimes you'd dream of Demogorgons, sometimes the Mind Flayer, but usually it was of your father. Those nightmares were the worst. Demo-dogs and Upside Down shit, you could handle. But nightmares about Hopper’s death were bad.

Your body shook from the lingering nightmare as you carefully climbed out of bed. Billy was still fast asleep under the blankets and thankfully didn't wake up as you walked across the room to the window and pulled the curtain open.

You wiped the sweat from your forehead with trembling hands and took in a few deep breaths trying to calm yourself down as you stared out at the dark starry night sky.

You and Hopper had a rough relationship, everyone knew that, but sometime between the arrest of Neil Hargrove and Starcourt, you had stopped hating him. You didn't hate him anymore, but you never got the chance to tell him.

Hopper had died thinking you hated him.

That thought hit hard and you had to grab hold of the windowsill to keep yourself standing as a soft sob escaped your lips.

You covered your mouth with your hand trying to muffle your crying, not wanting to wake Billy. Silent tears trickle down your face and you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing more than anything that Hopper was here.

But, he wasn't. Hopper was dead, and he died thinking his eldest daughter hated him.

You were so lost in thought that you didn't hear Billy shift on the bed. Hell, you didn't even hear him call your name until his hand touched your shoulder.

The sudden contact caused you to flinch, and you blinked away tears to find Billy hovering beside you worriedly.

Shit.

He must have heard you crying.

"I'm fine." You insisted before he could say anything.

Your voice was soft, almost fragile, as if it and your heart would break any minute. Perhaps your heart was already broken. Left shattered and unfixable back on the asphalt of the Starcourt carpark.

"No, you're not." He said quietly taking in your tear-stained cheeks. "Baby, what's wrong? Why are you awake?"

Those simple words were enough to bring the tears flooding back down your face despite how hard you tried to stop them. You looked back out the window, not wanting him to see you cry.

It was stupid. Billy had seen you cry too many times to count over the past six months. He had woken you up from so many nightmares and you had comforted him after his own nightmares about the Mind Flayer, but you still hated him seeing you like this.

"I'm right here, baby. It's okay. What's wrong?"

"Hopper died thinking I hate him." You sniffed quietly.

"Y/N-"

"Hell, I thought I still hated him too. Guess it took his death for me to realise..." You trailed off, hot tears streaming down your face.

Billy didn't say anything, instead he grabbed your shoulder and pulled you into his chest, holding you tightly. The bedroom door opened with a loud squeak, but you barely heard it.

"Oh. I- uh, heard crying." Max's sleepy voice whispered from the doorway. "Is she okay?"

You felt Billy nod, "yeah, I got her. Go back to bed, Max."

A second later, the door clicked closed and you squeezed your eyelids shut in hope they would stop the tears. Your choppy breathing and watery eyes remained for sometime, but Billy never let go.

By the end of your mini vacation in Hawkins, it was safe to say that Eddie and Billy were best friends. The two of them got along like a house on fire which you loved, but also kinda hated because they liked to gang up on you.

It was nice though, hanging out with Eddie. Him and Billy would take turns picking the music while you guys drank and talked about the most random shit.

His uncle worked nights at the Plant, so the three of you would hang in his trailer not wanting to annoy Max or Susan. Although, you were pretty sure they could hear the music blasting from across the road anyway. Which was why you and Billy were currently sitting on the lawn chairs out the front of Eddie's trailer waiting for him to get back from his Hellfire Club.

It was dark by the time his familiar van came speeding through the Trailer Park, music blasting from inside before he pulled up in front of the trailer and climbed out the car.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"You're out of beer." Billy said, holding up the empty beer can.

Eddie frowned before looking at the closed door of his trailer. You could practically see the gears turning in his brain as he tried to figure out how Billy took his last beer out the fridge.

"You should seriously lock your front door, Munson. Wouldn't want strangers to break into your trailer and steal alcohol or something stupid." You warned in amusement.

Eddie snorted softly, "yeah, definitely wouldn't want that."

"Uh, I-I can come by later?" A female voice suddenly said.

You looked past Eddie just as a girl in a cheerleader uniform stepped out the van. Wait, was that Chrissy Cunningham?

"No, no, it's fine. These guys apparently don't understand personal boundaries." Eddie said, glaring at the two of you as he spoke. "You remember Y/N and Billy from school, right?"

She nodded, still looking a little nervous. She was obviously here to buy from him and although you didn't really know Chrissy, you could tell it was her first time doing something like this and she was clearly anxious about it.

"You don't need to worry about us, we're not going to tell anyone. Tomorrow, we drive back to California anyway." You said, trying to reassure the other girl.

Eddie gave you an appreciative nod before he opened the front door and sighed realising that he had in fact forgotten to lock it when he left earlier.

"Y/N warned you." Billy commented with a grin.

Eddie just flipped him off before holding the door open for Chrissy who stepped inside and he followed, closing the door behind her.

You stared across at the Camaro parked beside the Mayfield trailer. It was going to be a long drive back to California tomorrow and although you still hated Hawkins, you were kind of sad to leave Max and Eddie behind.

"What time do you want to hit the road in the morning?" You asked, glancing over at Billy.

He didn't answer though. His entire body had turned tense in the chair beside you, his fingers digging into his thighs through his jeans like he was trying to wake himself up from a dream... or a nightmare.

"Billy? What's wrong?"

He still didn't answer, but the moonlight shining down from the dark sky was enough to illuminate his features, highlighting the sudden panic that was creeping over him.

"Billy?" You tried again, slipping off your chair and kneeling in front of him. "Hey, talk to me."

"I-I can feel him." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What?"

He lifted his shaky hand and grabbed the back of his neck. His eyes frantically searching the dark Trailer Park for threats before settling back on you with a look of fear washing over him. It was a different kind of horror seeing someone like Billy Hargrove look so frightened and you had no idea what to do.

The lights in the trailer suddenly started to flicker through the small window and your stomach dropped in realisation.

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#Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #dacre montgomery #jim hopper #david harbour #steve harrington #eddie munson

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ketso · 1 year

Text

Episode 35

“Honestly, I’m tired of these weddings. Maybe my body is no longer allowing me to party and celebrate overtime. I’m about to be a gogo”, I say.

Khotso looks at me. He laughs. I laugh.

“In Mpumalanga? But I must say, I’m happy for Ntuthuko and his crèche of children. He needs to relax”, I say.

“Yeah. Pope is happy too. At least now all he has to worry about it Akwande”, Khotso says to me.

“And Luhle”, I say.

“Ey… Luhle neh…” him.

“But she’s in Mtubatuba now neh, being straightened out by the grannies?”

“Yeah.”

“Apparently, they are quite hectic. Wandi was telling him ukuthi bamukotizisa”, I say.

“These kids don’t get enough training. Old people are good for them. And Luhle… ai...”

We are just chilling by our fireplace, chatting away. It’s 11pm. The kiddies are fast asleep. I’m enjoying a glass of wine and he’s enjoying a bottle of beer. He’s even rubbing my feet. It’s raining and it’s cold. Winter is kicking in.

“Baby”, he calls out to me.

“Hmmm?” Me.

“If I wanted to officially make you my wife, how would I go about it? Who in your family would I contact?” He asks me.

“No one. I don’t have any family. My family is Wandi, Rena, Moloko and you. Anyone else is dead to me.”

“Phuthi -

“I’m not having this conversation with you, Khotso!” I snap at him.

He looks at me.

“Sorry. I just… I don’t have family.”

“Phuthi, I have to pay lobola somewhere”

“My mom is dead. I don’t know where her sisters are. Her brother –

I pause.

He looks at me.

“He started raping me since I was twelve.”

He is unbelievably shocked.

“His wife said I was lying because I wanted her man. My aunts said I was lying, and I should never talk about it with anyone. My mom would just make me wash the smell off. She said I shouldn’t stop scrubbing myself until I wash the experience off. When I was sixteen, he dragged me to someone else’s house, then three of his friends and him raped me… taking turns with my little body until I couldn’t walk. Then they took me to a hospital and told the nurses that I had been picked off the streets. That’s how I ran away and ended up being a criminal. My whole family sat there and supported him when I opened a case against him. They all said that I lied and that my uncle would never do something like that. My family was poor, but they managed to find money to pay people off to make the case go away. Those people are dead to me.”

He’s still staring at me.

“When I was locked up, Wandi got raped. She told me it was her friend’s father that did it. Repeatedly. That’s the guy I ordered a hit on. Nathi didn’t care. His wife was apparently too hurt to raise my child and keep her away from a trauma like that. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive those two. My baby girl… and she was under my mother’s and family’s care. They couldn’t even protect her from rape. So babe, I have dreams about killing my family… not giving them money or begging them to help me become a wife.”

I gulp my wine to hold back my tears.

I pour myself another glass.

He kisses my feet. He pulls me into a hug. I cry on his chest.

“They touched my child, Khotso. Those people let that happen. Please don’t ask me to go back to those people. Please. I’d rather be your girlfriend forever. You know that I love you. As long as you know that, I’m good. We are married in my heart.” I say.

He kisses the top of my head and holds me tighter.

I’m waking up at 2am. We are both passed out on the couch. He’s even snoring. I get up from his chest. He wakes up.

“Hey”, him.

“Hey. We need to get to bed. Doesn’t your back hurt?” I ask him.

He giggles and says, “My back is fine. My chest is struggling from the big head that was on it.”

I give him a soft punch. He laughs. I chuckle too.

“I’m happy to see that smile again. You are too beautiful to not be happy all the time”, he says.

I smile at him.

“I’ll try to find those motherfuckers. Then when I find them, you honour your ancestors, and we kill those shitbirds”, I say.

He first giggles and says, “At least let them buy some bread with whatever they ask us for… then I’ll help you make them rest in peace.”

“I really wish I didn’t have to see them again. You know… I hate the Buthelezis neh, but I’m so glad that they are Wandi’s family, and they dealt with her lobola stuff. I wish I at least had one decent side of the family. I don’t even know my dad’s side of the family. I know where he lived before I went to prison. But I don’t know if he’s still alive or if he even deserves to be part of this… he left us when I was five… for a younger bitch.”

“He sounds like the lesser evil that you are prepared to deal with. Plus, he’s the one I should ask for your hand in marriage. We deal with him for a day, and we are done. You and I can get married with absolutely nothing to worry about as far as bad luck is concerned.”

I take a deep breath.

He holds my hand… then he says, “you and me… our family… we are worth it.”

an eh…

6:45am

I’ve been calling the kids down to have breakfast. Only Moloko comes down dressed up. Rena is still in her pyjamas. Hai bo! Khotso and I look at each other. Rena doesn’t look okay.

“And then? Are you okay, baby?” I ask her.

“She’s been vomiting all morning.” Moloko tells me.

“What’s wrong? Do you have a bug or something?” I ask Rena.

“My red friend is visiting. She’s really bad this month. I don’t usually get this sick or have these much pains. I don’t know what’s wrong with me this time.” She tells me.

Both Khotso and Moloko are confused.

“Red friend?” Moloko.

I just hug Rena and tell her that she will be okay. That’s completely normal. Sometimes, it is that bad. But to be sure, we will go to the doctor and make sure you are good. Then you and I will spend the day in front of the TV and under some blankets, eating junk and watching movies.” I say.

She smiles at me.

“How about you take a quick shower then we can get going. Dad will take Moloko to school today”, me.

“Perfect”, she says then heads upstairs.

“And you honey-bun, get your school bag please so you can get out of here”. I tell Moloko.

“Okay”, he says then heads upstairs.

Now it’s just Khotso and me.

“Red friend?” He asks me.

“Period.” Me.

“Oh shit. Yeah, I’m out of here with my little boy.” He says.

“She doesn’t have a disease, baby.” I say.

“I know… it’s just… what will you do about work?” He asks me.

“I’ll work late from home. The babies come first.” I say.

He gets up and walks to where I am.

He feels me up then he kisses me.

“You are the best.” He says, kissing me again.

“What’s your day looking like today?” I ask him.

“I’ll be in the office now in the morning, then Maboko, Zithulele and I are headed to South Africa for some meetings with Thabi about the reformation of that church. Then Wandi and I are having a late lunch together. I should be back for dinner.”

I smile at him.

“She did tell me about the lunch. Look at you, mkhulu.” I say.

He laughs and says, “I’m a hot one, aren’t I?”

“Ten out of ten.” I say.

We kiss then we laugh.

In no time, he’s leaving with Moloko and I’m leaving with Rena. She really looks unwell hey. I really hope that’s it’s just normal period stuff nje.

“Mah”, she begins as we drive.

Yeah, she calls me mom now. Both her and Moloko.

“Yes baby?” Me.

“I started taking contraceptives”, she says.

“Hawu Rena… why?”

She takes a deep breath.

“Baby girl, you can talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I am seeing someone. And I kinda had sex with him.” She says.

Yoh!

I don’t know how to handle this one. I really don’t. Also, that boy probably has a death wish. Does he know Khotso Mohale?

“When did you start having sex, baby girl?”

“You are not angry?”

“I’m disappointed, but I’m glad that you came to me. We do need to have this conversation because I need to be reassured that you are safe… not getting sick and not getting pregnant. What are we going to tell your dad if anything happens to you?”

She takes a deep breath.

“So? When did this start?” I ask again.

“We met like two years ago. But he travels a lot, so we couldn’t really start anything.”

This does not sound like a boy his age. But let me let her finish her story before I start asking questions.

“But he calls every day. Even then… he called every day. He gets me. I’m not princess Rena when I’m with him. I can just be a person and he loves me just as I am.”

Love?!

Isn’t Rena seventeen?!

I’m so confused.

“He finally moved to the kingdom permanently last year and we decided to make things official. I really love him.”

“Rena, this boy doesn’t sound like he’s a student.” I say.

“He isn’t.”

“Okay, so who is he?”

“His name is Tumelo… Tumelo Mothipa.”

Mothipa? Where do I know this name from?

“He is from Dithabeng. His father is a chief in Dithabeng. He currently has two wives.” She says.

Yoh, this child!

What the hell am I supposed to say to Khotso?!

“He’s waiting for me to matriculate, then I’m going to be his third wife.” She says.

Yeses!

I’m actually just silent and I just drive. After all of that, what am I supposed to say? Also, where’s the line that I’m not supposed to cross? I’m her mother, yes, but I didn’t birth her. And Rena will probably tell me that the minute I cross a line.

…

We are driving back home from the doctor. She’s fine. I also had her tested for STDs because this guy has more than one wife he’s sleeping with - then there’s Rena the royal mistress. Yaz, I’m still at a loss for words. I don’t know what to do with this information or with her. I feel like God is making me pay for all the years that I missed out on a hectic teenage daughter. She’s also quiet. I can tell that she wants this conversation to continue, but my brain is still processing all of this.

But I’m curious…

“So where do you guys meet up and spend time together? He has two wives, so I’m assuming he has two houses that he’s already paying for. You’ve never slept out, so I’m ruling out the booking of hotels and weekend getaways. Where do you spend time together?” I ask her.

“He has an apartment. It’s an apartment that he’s wives don’t know about and thus don’t go to. It’s our love nest.” She says.

Heh! Weh ntombi! Siyazibona kuleli likaMthaniya!

“Rena, do you know what you are doing, nana? Why are you doing this? Why are you being this irresponsible? There are wives in his life that will be affected by this.” I say.

“Well, isn’t it normal? Papa-Ona does it all the time. He leaves his wives at home and gallivants with women who are young enough to be my friends, sleeping with them and maybe marrying them if he loves them or if they get pregnant. Even my dad lived his best life with women out there while he left Remo-his-wife at home. I thought this is normal and acceptable. I’m not doing anything wrong, mama.”

“But look at what that did to the women. Remo left. And from what I understand, she was crazy by the time that she left. Look at Thabi… there’s nothing normal about how she moves or operates. Rena, come on. And how will you feel when you are his wife and he starts seeing other people or marrying more people?”

Maybe yaz, I’m just the one who doesn’t support isithembu. Maybe if she had this conversation with someone who gets it, it would be different.

“I’m going to be his last wife.” She says.

Okay… delusional too.

“You can’t control that, Rena.” I say.

“I can. I’m a princess. I’m above all his wives, him and his father. That means, regardless of me being his third and young wife, I’m going to be his principal wife. If I don’t approve of him marrying again, he won’t. I know the laws. I’ve studied them.”

“That won’t stop him from having more girlfriends.” I say.

“I grew up in the church. I know how to get rid of people.”

Yaz, I really think that we underestimate how our lifestyle impacts our kids… especially this one. She’s so…

“Rena, you can’t play god in people’s lives. That’s not what the church is about. Yes, we break laws and there are some necessary evils that we have to perform to get shit done, but it has never been for selfish reasons. Your grandfather, Mohato Mohale, started this church as a way to serve his country. He wanted human rights to mean something to the citizens of Tholoana Kingdom. He wanted citizenship to not only belong to the rich, but to be accessible to everyone regardless of their financial standing. People around him went to school and advised him about social grants, better living conditions, an excellent education system and world class care for the ill, the elderly and those in danger. People had brilliant ideologies about a country that had top security and a people that could compete on world stages. But no one spoke about how all of that would be funded. He put himself, his family and people close to him on the line… sacrificing their rights to access citizenship, so that the greater country could have it. He started the church to fund the ideology of what Tholoana Kingdom could be, and you know what… Tholoana Kingdom is the only African country that is the closest to what any constitution requires a country to be. Hell, we are doing better than some European countries. His kids didn’t see the door of a university… they helped him to let others see it instead. He paid for the consequences of what he started as a leader that no one will ever see again. And the ongoing consequences of that is having grandchildren such as yourself thinking that has made you god in people’s lives… not for a greater purpose, but for you to serve your own wants. Do you ever think about what your dad will do if he finds out about this? We both know that wives will be without a husband and children will grow up without a father. You know that you have the power to disrupt life for those people, and you don’t care. You are willingly participating in that, fuelling that possibility knowing you have nothing to lose. Rena, this cannot be you, my baby. It cannot.”

She’s quiet.

I hear her sobbing.

Then she says, “but mama, I love him. If I let him go, how do I know that I’ll ever meet someone who loves me and gets me like he does?”

“I can’t promise you that, Rena. I cannot. And I don’t want you to give up on love because love is a beautiful thing. I just want you to be responsible and conscious of your actions and what could become of them. I love you. I’ll always side with you and I’ll always do my best to protect you until my eyes close for the last time on this earth. But baby, that’s not going to stop me from telling you when you are wrong. I’m sure you love him. And I’m sure he loves you too. But this is bigger than both of you. Loving him is loving his kids… and do you want them to be robbed of a dad? Especially when you grew up with one and have seen what a father can do in your life? Things that a mother cannot do. Rena, some people will never know the love of a father because not every man is willingly putting out their love for their kids. These kids have a dad that is present and that loves them. How will you feel if you take that away from them?”

She’s sobbing.

Then she says, “if I promise to end things with him… or not come between him and his family –

“Rena, you’ve already come between him and his family. The only way to make it right is to end it with him.”

She takes a deep breath…

Then she says, “I know you have to tell dad. But, if I promise to end things with him, please stop him from killing him. Please.”

I just look at her.

I’m worried. This I must say.

…

We are flying back to the kingdom right now. Pope, Fifi and Akwande are flying with us. They were in South Africa to resolve some stuff for Ntuthuko. So now they are headed back home. They heard that we are around using the private plane, so they joined us on our way back home.

Pope has just asked Ona, Maboko, Zithulele and I to be his negotiators for Ntuthuko’s lobola to Tamia. Didn’t these people just meet?!

“How much is he willing to pay for her, Mashimane?” Zithulele asks.

“Ey, Qwabe… the thing is… Ntuthuko has four kids and Tamia has none. She will be inheriting four kids to raise before she’s even birthed her own. Bazosibulala lapho kakhulu.” Pope says.

Yeah, he’s in shit.

“Kodwa Ntuthuko didn’t kidnap her”, Zithulele.

“And she loves him. She will advocate for him on our behalf before we even get there.” Fifi says. She’s so naive shame.

“That’s not how it works, love. Besides, that will only make things worse. She mustn’t have any conversations with her parents about this. They’ll interpret it as us disrespecting them.” Pope.

“Mara le bona! They must be reasonable”. Fifi.

“Being reasonable is subjective though. If Ruri told me she was marrying someone with four kids, my first reaction would be hell no. Then me being reasonable would be a business plus cows plus cash.” Maboko says.

“Haaaaa!” Fifi says.

“Heh! I can tell that you’ve only had boys. Wait till Luhle gets married. Pope over here… he will not be nice.” Maboko.

Pope suddenly gets tense. Just the thought makes him tense. We all laugh at him. He lets a smile escape.

“On top of inheriting four kids, Tamia is a businesswoman and a lawyer. Re tlo bona masepa, mo.” Ona.

“Ja, Ntuthuko decided to be brave. You know, I always thought he’d take someone from the village. All his baby-mamas are village girls. Why couldn’t he marry one of them? He had to go for Mave’s daughter.” Pope.

“Mave Khumalo?” Me.

Pope nods his head.

“Yerrrr!” Me.

“Re tlo bona sebunu!” Ona.

“Mashimane, what are we prepared to part with?” Zithulele.

“Ntuthuko will buy ten walking cows and have R150 000 cash prepared.” Mashimane.

“Yoh! Umakoti obiza kangaka?!” Zithulele is so stingy when it comes to paying lobola. It’s actually funny. I wish he had girls so another family could do that to him.

“It is a bit much, Shaka. Ntuthuko is not kidnapping Tamia or forcing her into this.” Fifi.

Zithulele and Fifi are so stingy. Why?! It’s not like the Maphumulos don’t have this kind of money.

“Knowing Mave, he will want in on a business or two.” Maboko highlights.

That man… we could actually give him a business as the full lobola, and he will let us have his daughter.

“True. Plus, Tamia is his only daughter.” I say.

“On top of ten walking cows and R150 000, he will want a business? Udayis’ ingane yini?! Uyabhosha phela manje.” Zithulele.

I actually cannot stop laughing at this guy’s frustration.

“Give him a tender.” I suggest.

“Tender?” Pope.

“Yeah. He co-owns a sustainable energy business with his daughter. With the school that Thabi is building in South Africa from that church, plus the community that we are about to install electricity in - the malls included - we could give him that business. It will be a win for him… but it will also be a win for us because Tamia will probably have to come and oversee the project in Tholoana Kingdom, and thus strategically end up living here as opposed to Ntuthuko living in South Africa. We will require Tamia to move and they’ll probably move the R150 000 to R200 000 for that. But if we make them to make that decision for the benefit of their business, we don’t pay for it.” I say.

“That’s a brilliant idea.” Pope.

“Eh baba, siyokhokha laphaya… and not a small price. If we tell Tamia to live in clothes zasemakhaya and cook only using amalahle, that’s exactly what she will do. The last thing that she will be doing is dictating to us where Ntuthuko will be staying.” Zithulele.

“I just thought that I’d point out that she has all four baby-mamas on their knees. I doubt that in her eyes, you are a mountain. If you are one, you can most certainly be moved”, Akwande says to Zithulele.

We all look at him, then at Zithulele… then we all crack up.

“So pope, are you planning to pay damages for the kids now that Ntuthuko and Tamia are taking over with raising them?” I ask.

He laughs and says, “Ntuthuko and Tamia are doing that and… they are getting full custody of the kids. Tamia will also be legally adopting them so the mothers cannot - under any circumstances - take them away from Tamia.”

“Yoh!” We all react.

“How brave is Ntuthuko?! Ufunani with a lawyer?” Zithulele.

“What do you think about that?” Maboko asks pope.

“All I know is that I only met my grandchildren for the first time now that Tamia is in their lives. Their mothers have spent more than mountains of my money and Ntuthuko’s money, but they’ve never brought those kids around for ice-cream at my house. I also know that Ntuthuko never had a relationship with these kids. He barely knew them and they barely knew him. But their mothers had a committed relationship with his money… to a point where the minute the money was taken away, they dumped the kids on Tamia. And to show that even they know that they are wrong, they didn’t go to maintenance court. Tamia is making sure that relationships are built… that Ntuthuko is involved and understands the role of a father. Those kids are so safe with her… stable even. I usually don’t support a child being separated from its mother… but I’m beginning to wonder if a mother is only the woman that gave birth to a child.”

Deep!

“Mashimane, R150 000 plus ten cows plus tenders is a lot… even for a woman that walks on water. With a tender, siyaphula kulez’inkomo nalemali. Five walking cows and nothing more than R100 000.” Zithulele.

“If you can negotiate along those lines, I’m not going to complain.” Pope.

“In Zithulele we trust!” Fifi.

We all actually laugh.

I get home just after 8pm.

Phuthi and Rena are washing the dishes together. It’s actually beautiful to see Rena like this - disciplined and just being a child. Moloko is reading to them. It’s his reading homework.

“Dumelang”, I greet them.

“Hey dad”, Moloko says, coming to give me a hug and a fist-pump.

“Hello papa”, Rena says, hugging me.

“Hello baby”, Phuthi says, giving me a kiss.

She stops doing the dishes then she prepares my plate for me to eat.

“Rena, this is your parcel from Wandi. And Moloko, this is your parcel from Senzi,” I say giving them gifts that Wandi and Senzi gave me. I had strict instructions to not open these, so I didn’t.

Rena and Moloko are super excited.

They open their gifts. Rena got an Apple monitor. She screams, chanting that Wandi is the best and she’s headed upstairs to set up then FaceTime her.

Moloko got an Apple MacBook Pro. I didn’t even know that these kids needed these gadgets. They normally just ask or use their own bank cards to swipe for stuff they need. Or maybe I’ve missed out on something.

“Senzi said that they’d come for my play at school.” Moloko tells me.

“Yeah, they did say that they’d be driving back with us after Ntuthuko’s and Tamia’s wedding.” I say.

“Yes!” Moloko says.

I’m busy helping Moloko set up his MacBook while I eat my supper. Phuthi is cleaning up in the kitchen. When we are done setting up and I’m done eating, Phuthi tells Moloko to call Rena then he only has thirty minutes of MacBook screen time… she will come and check.

Moloko excitedly agrees then heads upstairs.

As Rena climbs down the stairs, stealing looks at Phuthi and Phuthi stealing looks at her, I can just tell that they are about to lay a bomb on me. As long as she’s not pregnant, I can take just about anything.

The three of us are now seated at the dining table. I’m at the head of the table. Phuthi sits on my immediate left. Rena sits on my right, with two chairs between us. I look at Phuthi. I look at Rena.

“Papa, there’s something that I need to tell you.” Rena starts.

Lord, please don’t let her be pregnant. Please.

“Okay…” me.

She looks at Phuthi. Phuthi is staring right back at her. It can’t be that bad. I mean… they were washing dishes together when I walked in here.

“I’m seeing someone.” Rena.

Why am I being roped into girl talk? I don’t need to know this.

“And it’s serious.” Rena.

“How serious?” Phuthi.

She’s not getting married, is she?

“He wants us to get married after I turn eighteen.” Rena.

“Get married with what? Isn’t he eighteen himself?” Me.

Rena clears her throat then says, “He’s actually got two wives and three kids. I’d be his third wife.”

This is a joke.

Right?!

I actually stare at her. I feel my hands shaking already. Rena looks at Phuthi. Phuthi looks at Rena. These looks are having me feel a type of way.

“But, I’ll end things with him. Mom made me realise that it’s for the best. It’s just that… I love him. And he loves me… and –

“Voetsek wena! Voetsek!” I find myself saying to her. I’ve never swore at my children before, but this rubbish that I’m listening to right now… kak, I tell you!

“Who is this motherfucker?!” I ask.

Now she’s scared.

“KE MANG?!” I snap.

“Papa, please don’t do anything to him.” She begs me with tears in her eyes.

I stand up and charge towards her. I’m actually going to give this child the beating that Thabi has been saying that I should give her all these years. Phuthi has jumped over the table and jumped into my arms to prevent me from hitting Rena.

“Rena, go upstairs.” Phuthi says.

“She’s not going anywhere! She’s a woman, akere! She has sex with married people now and she can say shit like she’s going to be people’s third wives. She must answer for her shit!” I’m trying to put Phuthi down so my hands can work on Rena, but she’s not letting go.

“YOU ARE NOT GOING TO HIT MY CHILD, KHOTSO! RENA, GO UPSTAIRS!” For a moment there, I heard Lulu’s voice and her face flashed before my eyes. It’s like Phuthi has transformed into her right this minute. I’m not sure what’s happening to me.

Rena and I stare at each other as she slowly heads upstairs with tears in her eyes. We both know that our relationship has changed… forever.

“Hlala phansi, Khotso. Siding’ ukukhuluma”, Phuthi says to me.

I watch Rena disappear from the stairs, then I sit down.

She sits down.

She takes a deep breath.

I look at her.

“This thing is deeper than Rena just dating”, she says. I’m not sure what she means.

“Rena was talking about how her behaviour is normal because you and Ona have never had issues with leaving wives at home and having girlfriends all over the place. Clearly, she’s been observing this behaviour from the adults around her.”

“So, she’s being this way because Ona and I were –

I can’t even finish my sentence.

“That’s one part of it. The second part is that she believes that when this guy marries her, she will be above the guy and his wives, meaning that she will not allow him to take on more wives, and as far as girlfriends are concerned, she will make them disappear… she knows how to do that because she grew up in the church.”

The fuck?!

Phuthi sees the shock and confusion on my face.

“Khotso, I think we are missing out on the impact that the church has on these kids. I mean… the last time we had to go into hiding, she told Wandi that our lives are only good for a bit… for the most times, we are dodging bullets and burying people that we love. She said we just need to make sure that we are not the ones being buried or arrested.” She says.

Rena?!

I just thought that she was an angry child all her life. But she’s just internalising being a criminal.

“Baby, maybe we need to start having a conversation about what we want for these kids. Will we see the end of the church?! Or are we raising the next generation of church leaders that will be more ruthless than the generations before them? Without even understanding why the church started? I had to tell her why your father started this organisation. And she was slapped by a reality that she had no idea about. We run with them. We expose them to the world’s greatest danger, and we don’t care to explain why… we let them internalise it and hope that they become untainted people. For all we know, Rena went to that guy of hers running away from all of this.”

I actually start crying.

She gets up and she sits on top of me.

She pulls my head to her chest. She holds me and I just cry.

But I do want to know who this motherfucker is.

“Who is he?” I ask her.

“I’ll tell you. But promise me that you won’t touch him. Rena promised me that she’d end things with him.”

“Phuthi, ke mang?”

“Baby, promise me.”

Why is she making me make such promises? I don’t want to make such promises because I’ll promise her now, then I see that motherfucker… start imaging him having sex with my daughter… then I’ll murder him.

“Fine. I promise.” I say.

“Tumelo Mothipa.”

“What the fuck?!”

She holds me.

“What are we going to do?” I ask her.

“I think it’s time we had a serious conversation with these kids about the church and what we are expecting from them. But I guess we need to figure out what we are expecting from them so we can communicate it clearly. I’ll invite Wandi over as well. She’s bound to find out what’s going on and I’d rather she hears it from us. Rena has already told her a mouthful and she’s asking questions. I don’t want issues with pope and maybe he hasn’t decided if he’s going to tell Senzi. But if Wandi knows… Senzi knows. So, we get the Maphumulos, we get Ona and his family, we get our family, and we tell all our kids everything. We answer their questions. We prepare to be hated for a few weeks or months, but we deal with it. Rather that than watching them spiral out of control thanks to our behaviour and us not realising the impact of our behaviour.”

I just kiss her through my tears. I didn’t realise how much I’ve needed her my whole life.

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yikesharringrove · 3 years

Text

Egg the Cat

Chapter 2

Read on Ao3

Nancy flinched as an engine revved, a sleek blue muscle car pulling into the lot.

Steve let himself focus on it. It was better than dwelling on his fucking essay, his impending shitty night spent with Barb’s parents, like he didn’t feel horrible enough about that whole situation.

He watched the car pull into a space at the front of the lot.

California plates.

“Who’s that?” Steve could picture Nancy wrinkling her nose as she said it, too focused on Billy getting out of his car to turn and see it for real.

He narrowed his eyes at a young redhead getting out of the passenger side.

Billy hadn’t said anything about a sibling.

“That’s Billy. I met him last night.” He finally looked back at Nancy as Billy set off towards the school. “He found Egg downtown.”

Nancy’s eyebrows flew nearly to her hairline.

“Steve, I’m sorry, I forgot. Is she okay?”

“Yeah, Billy got her safe and sound. Still don’t know how she got out, though. Let alone made it all the way downtown.” He locked his car as they headed towards the high school, the warning bell sounding through the parking lot.

He reached for Nancy’s hand, his heart soaring when she let him take it.

Sometimes she said his hands were too clammy.

He walked her to her first class, kissing her softly by the door.

Billy glared at the tiny brunette sitting in front of him.

Steve hadn’t said anything about having a fucking girlfriend last night.

And really, Billy should’ve known. He’s a hot guy, living in a town of not a lot of hot guys. It makes sense some girl would snap him up.

It just felt like a slap in the face.

It’s not like Billy thought he actually had a chance with Steve, but now all of his daydreams, any of his dirty thoughts featuring one Steve Harrington were gonna be tainted, by this prissy fucking bitch.

Billy just spent all of his AP biology lecture boring holes into the back of her head.

He didn’t really give a fuck if people noticed, thought it was weird. He was too busy channeling all of his anger, all of his hatred onto this skinny little priss.

He hoped she could feel it, like maybe his anger gaze gave off palpable heat or something.

Based on how many times she stuck her hand up to answer every question posed by the teacher, no, she couldn’t feel the heat of Billy’s rage.

He couldn’t get out of there fast enough, only to find they shared all three of their morning classes.

Because fuck Billy.

And then he had to watch, had to stand there like a stupid gay fucking idiot as Steve lifted nancy off her feet, and made out with her against her locker.

He stomped past, hoping to go unnoticed by-

“Billy!”

Fuck.

He stopped dead in his tracks, taking a few deep breaths before turning, plastering his best I am so charming and I don’t hate your girlfriend for no reason smile on his face.

Steve was all sunshiney again today. Billy mentally kicked the little voice in his head saying that sunshine is for you.

“Hey, man! How’s your first day going?” Steve had his girl tucked under his arm. She looked like a frail little bird. Billy hoped Steve’s cat ate her for breakfast one day soon.

“Well, you got mad at me last night when I called this place a shithole, so I’m just going to heavily imply it.” Steve laughed, his head tipping back a little, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Billy tried to think about his dad, tied to think about the shelf bruises on his back.

And then Steve was pressing a sheet of paper into his hand, and their fingers fucking brushed and Billy tried, tried to think of a broken arm and cops at his house, and not holding fucking hands with Steve Harrington.

He studied the paper, just to look somewhere that wasn’t Steve’s eyes. A lighter shade of brown in the fluorescent lights, a shade bordering on green.

Come and get sheetfaced.

“Hawkins parties will probably be lame compared to what you’re familiar with, but I mean, it should be fun.” Billy just nodded, eyes trained on the little ghost. “We’ll be there. Nancy and I.” Nancy. That’s a stupid fucking name. “Y’know, if you aren’t too cool for us by then.”

Steve was smirking at him a little when Billy finally looked up.

“I’m already cooler than you, Harrington.” Fuck. It sounded way meaner than Billy had wanted, sounded actually rude, not like a little ribbing. Not like a little tongue-in-cheek reference to last night. Cold shit.

But then Steve tossed his head back, and he laughed, a full belly laugh, and he clapped Billy on the shoulder, and Billy has never felt gayer in his entire life.

“Harsh, man. Real harsh. Wait ‘til I tell Egg you said that, she’ll never want to see you again .” And Steve was still smiling at him, and he had maybe, alluded to Billy seeing his cat again, which meant seeing Steve outside of school, and Nancy was looking down the hall, like this conversation was below her pay grade, and Billy wanted.

“See, that’s why I’m cooler than you. I don’t go telling my cat all my lame drama.”

“That’s because you don’t have a cat,” Steve said playfully, his face falling a bit. “Wait, you don’t have a cat, do you?” Billy shrugged.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” And Steve smiled at him, and the bell rang, and Nancy rolled her eyes before pressing herself out from underneath Steve’s arm, and Steve’s big sweet eyes snapped onto her.

“I’ve got to get to Calculus.” Billy’s heart sank. They shared four classes so far.

Steve just leaned down to kiss her, one hand cradling the side of her face. Billy looked away.

“I love you.” He had to suppress a snort as Nancy said it back, her voice all pitchy and off.

But Steve reached out to clap Billy on the shoulder again.

“I better see you tonight!” And he was off down the hall, and Billy, once again, made a point not to look at his ass.

“You gotta be home by nine-thirty, okay, Shitbird?” Max rolled her eyes again.

“Billy, I know what time I need to be home by.”

“Just making sure, because you know if you don’t make curfew, I’m somehow gonna be blamed for it.” Billy had only gotten out of playing babysitter this evening when Max had nearly thrown a full tantrum at the idea of trick-or-treating with adult supervision while she’s trying to make friends.

She just looked at him sharply, her lips pursing a bit.

“I’ll be home.” Her voice had an edge to it. Billy didn’t really know how to take it.

“Be safe.” She didn’t acknowledge him, just got out of the car, a little Michael Myers heading into the swarm of children.

He pulled down the road, the party address only a few blocks from where Max was meeting her friends.

He slammed a beer the minute he entered the party, didn’t want to be sober for a second of this shitfest.

Steve had been right. This party didn’t hold a fuckin’ candle to what he frequented down in Cali.

He tried to make the best of it, beat the keg stand record, found some stupid jocks that were more than happy to parade around him all night.

He just had to get to that sweet spot, drunk enough he would actually get hard with a girl, but not too drunk he’d get whiskey dick. He didn’t need that to be his reputation in this shitty town.

He was being pulled through the crowd by some freckly fucker dressed as the guy from Karate Kid. Max had made him take her to that movie six times in the theaters. Billy had slept through it every time.

He was feeling pretty okay, the beer settling into his system, giving him a warm buzz as he studied the party. Maybe he could find some punk kids, score some weed or-

Steve Harrington.

The karate guy had shoved him in front of Steve, had said, guess who’s the new Keg King, Harrington?

Steve was glaring at the guy, drawn up to his full height, shoulders squared, all of that melting as he turned to Billy, smiling warmly at him.

Fucking sunshine.

“Nice job, Dude!” And Steve took Billy’s hand, and he pulled him into a one-armed fucking hug.

Billy was absolutely stunned. Maybe a little bit hard as he pat his hand against Steve’s back. Felt his muscles moving under his jacket.

But then Steve pulled back, his eyes trailing after his fucking girlfriend, and he was gone, followed her into the kitchen.

Billy wanted to tear out his fucking hair.

He went the opposite way as Steve, pushing through the sweaty crowd.

He really didn’t need to see Steve coddling his girl.

He shoved his way into the backyard, vaulting the low fence on the porch, making his way out of the yellowed light spilling out of the house.

He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it quickly.

Fucking idiot. You knew you couldn’t have any fucking boy in this goddamn town.

But Billy had come into this town really not expecting any boy to actually catch his eye.

Not like Steve has.

Steve with his stupid big eyes, and his stupid big hair, and his stupid cat named fucking Egg. Who names a cat Egg? That’s a dumb fucking name.

Billy lit his next cigarette with the dying remains of the last one.

He thought about calling it quits, heading home early.

But it wasn’t even ten yet, and really, he needed to fool around with a chick tonight. He needed to establish himself as a lady killer.

Sleep with one girl, and the rumors would build enough that he probably wouldn’t have to fuck any others, just not deny it when any girl claims they had a wild night of passion.

It was safer that way. Gave him some cushion.

Then, if any of the lies began to unravel, he’ll just fuck another one, and let the rumor mill do its trick.

Besides, he can find a brunette, make her take it from behind. If he’s lucky, the party’ll be loud enough he can tune out her moans, picture someone else, picture him -

The backdoor slammed against the wall as someone stomped outside.

Billy just took another deep drag, hoped he wouldn’t be noticed.

But, of course-

Steve didn’t even ask, just took the cigarette out of Billy’s mouth, taking a long fucking drag.

He rolled his shoulders, let his head fall back, blowing the smoke out towards the sky.

“Y’know, I fucking quit smoking because of her. Not like I did it a lot, but still .” Billy just stayed quiet. He really didn’t want to talk about Steve’s fucking girlfriend. “Because I actually cared .” Oh, now wait a minute.

“What happened?”

Steve shot him a dark look.

“You weren’t inside?”

Billy just gestured to the cigarette Steve was now sucking on once again. Billy kept his focus on Steve’s left earlobe. Didn’t care to get a semi just from looking at his lips.

“Lovers’ quarrel?”

“Does repeatedly being called bullshit and having her tell you she doesn’t love you count as a lovers’ quarrel?”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” Steve tossed the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out. Billy didn’t know what to say.

What he wanted to say was you ever sucked dick? And then maybe take Steve’s mind off of everything by fucking his face, but that felt a little forward, felt a little gay.

“ Fuck .”

Oh, shit.

Steve was fucking, Steve was gonna cry. Standing outside with Billy, barely lit by the light filtering through the small frosted bathroom window.

“ Next week .” Steve’s voice cracked. “We would’ve been together one year next week. And she was pretending .” Steve slumped back against the wall, his face buried in both his hands. “I, I changed everything for her. I stopped seeing my friends because she didn’t like them, I stopped smoking because she said it was gross, I changed who I am as a fucking person. And you know, granted, I am a better person. But I’m different, because of her, and she just, she threw all of it away.”

He sniffed loudly, his shoulders stuttering.

Billy felt like his guts were on fucking fire.

“Fuck her. Fuck her. You are a good guy. And if she’s too much of a bitch to see that, she doesn’t deserve you.” Steve didn’t acknowledge him for a while. Billy just let it be, lit another cigarette.

“I think I’m gonna go home. I wanna see my cat.” Steve sounded like a little kid. Like a heartbroken little kid.

“You good to drive?” And Steve finally pulled his head out of his hands.

His big eyes were shining, his cheeks wet, glistening in the low light.

“I don’t drink anymore. Because she said I’m an asshole when I’m drunk.”

Billy weighed his words carefully.

“I’ve got a bottle of tequila in my car if you wanna stick it to her.” Steve gave him a watery smile.

“You wanna follow me to my place?”

#clearly i'm very busy at work #yikes writes #egg the cat #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove

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imastrangeone98 · 4 years

Text

Separation

(A/N: Carlos time!! Your guys' favorite XD come and get it!)

As Jill descended down the stairway back toward the subway, she couldn't help but study the Umbrella mercenary.

She could see why Emma liked him so much. He wasn't exactly Jill's type, but all things considered, he was nice and helpful, ready to lend a hand to anyone who needed it. Slightly naive, but out of context, it could easily be forgivable.

He was still the jackass who broke up with her close friend. But still, for all he'd done for them, he deserved an apology.

"Carlos," she called out, "I know we didn't get off to a great start, but... thanks for the save."

"Hey, you saved my ass first," he replied. "You're a hell of a lot braver than me."

"You saved Emma when I couldn't. That means something."

"Yeah, well, it means something to me too." Under his breath, he whispered, "She means everything to me."

"Did you say something?"

"Nothing," he said quickly.

She rolled her eyes, but the knowing smile still made it onto her face. "Well, what matters is that we can get everyone out of the city now."

"Yeah," he agreed. "The two of you will be safe."

Well. She didn't exactly enjoy the sound of that. "What about you?"

"From the sound of it," he said, hitting the shutter button, "I won't be catching the train."

"Why not?"

"There'll be new orders." He gave her a determined look. "If it means I can help save the city, that's fine by me."

Jill thought about Emma. She certainly wouldn't be pleased with that news.

They made their way down to the subway. Mikhail noticed them, but she was busy looking for her old teammate, finally seeing her resting on the seats, a small jacket wadded under her head like a pillow.

She made her way over to her, sitting beside her and adjusting her head so it rested on Jill's lap.

Carlos briefly made an appearance to kneel beside them, carefully running a gloved hand through his former lover's hair.

"Take care of her, Jill," he whispered.

"Tell that to her yourself," she replied. Although she didn't exactly like it, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't rooting for them. "Stay alive out there."

"Yeah." He gave a small chuckle. "I can't die on her and leave her in a cold, cruel, Carlos-less world."

"Seriously?"

"...Yeah, it sounded a lot cooler in my head." And with that, he stood up, nodded to her, and left the train.

Little did she know that she'd be seeing him much sooner than she realized.

[...]

Emma began to stir around the halfway point. With a grunt, she pushed herself off of her friend's lap and looked at her.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice incredibly hoarse. Jill gave her a bottle of water, which she gulped down. "I just remember passing out here. Carlos..." She froze. "Where is he?"

"He still has a mission, apparently," she answered, concentrating on the conversation between Mikhail and the sleazy Nicholai. "He seems like a tough guy; I wouldn't be too worried about him."

She sighed. "You're right... I just-"

BOOM!

The train rattled on its rails. Heat suddenly exploded through the compartment. Sweat beaded Emma's forehead.

And right there, tossing aside a civilian like he was nothing, was the tyrant.

Jill growled. "How is this fucker not dead yet?!" She got up and stalked toward it, but Mikhail grabbed her before she could fling herself in flames.

"No. They're gone." He pulled her away, nodding at both of the STARS members. "Go. That way."

Emma ran over to the compartment door, only to find it locked. "What's going on? Why is it locked?" She only just noticed the pale face watching her. "Please open the door! We're stuck!"

"You are STARS, no?" His chuckle was muffled from the glass. "It's not after me."

"OPEN THE DOOR!" she screamed, pounding on the hot metal.

But he did not. Giving her a small wave and a sinister grin, he disappeared further into his compartment.

Gunshots continued to pop. The smoke began to make her cough. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the platoon leader suddenly get swept up in a tentacle.

Jill, who had stood beside him, saw something that made her flinch. "Oh, shit..." She dashed toward her. "Get down!"

All Emma heard was "Get off my train, shitbird!"

And Jill threw herself on top of her.

And the world exploded.

[The RPD Police Department]

Carlos looked behind him, knowing full well that the station was far away. Along with his heart. "It's been awhile. Subway's gotta be clear of the city by now."

"Along with the cute ex?" Tyrell joked, but his mouth closed shut at his friend's hard glare. "Right. Well... keep your head screwed on, Romeo. This is the police station."

"You sure?" he replied. "'Cause it looks like a cemetery to me."

And he wasn't wrong. It was even worse on the inside. More mutated freaks hung around behind every corner, along with dozens of bloodthirsty zombies that were more than happy to take a chunk out of him.

He knew keeping his mind distracted was dangerous. His body could work on autopilot, but it was still a hazard to consider. Nevertheless, thoughts continued to race through his head.

For one thing, the situation with Bard and his connection to Umbrella. Why would they want to detain a loyal employee? What was it that he had done that made the company so nervous?

And on the other hand... Emma. He had every bit of confidence that Jill would look out for her friend, but he couldn't help but worry. How were her ribs? Was she out of the city? Was she safe? Would he ever see her again?

When he arrived at the STARS office and contacted Bard, he couldn't even get all that angry at the arrogant bastard, too lost in his thoughts to think too deeply about it.

Until, on his hip, the radio crackled.

------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Lolol I'm thinking of writing some crack fic of characters I've never done XD maybe after lost and found

Edit: read the sequel! :D

#resident evil 3 #resident evil 3 remake #carlos oliveira #jill valentine #carlos oliveira x reader #carlos oliveira x oc

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isailonships · 4 years

Note

could i request a (kind of au?) fic of scylla being there for raelle's graduation.

I love this idea and I think I’ll post this on my AO3 too, so check it out! (CommanderGay)

****

"Congratulations. You have given more than you thought you could." Alder's speech resounds around the stadium of witches and civilians alike. The graduates stomp a concert in every possible opportunity throughout the speech, and Raelle is almost laughing with excitement. This was the day!

"Today, some of you will place at War College. Others will join their sisters on the front lines."

From the beginning, she had accepted that she wouldn't make it to War College; that she would end up on the front lines just as her mama had. War meat. She'd get blown up fighting for someone else's cause. She knew it before saying those words just 10 weeks ago.

"But all of you will serve this great country as soldiers of the United States Army."

But now, instead of dreading this day, her heart pumps brilliantly as her unit sit on either side of her. Tally's hand is in her own, squeezing joyfully and Raelle can practically hear Abigail's smile on her other side. Bellweather Unit had placed top of their class. There was no doubt they would be attending War College.

"Make your way outside, ladies." Alder finishes up. "The ninth bell reveals your fate."

The response is laughter and cheers and more stomping and Raelle joins in with the other witches. She turns in her seat and looks in the direction she knows her father sits, and there he is, proud as ever and sporting his nicest suit jacket and brightest smile. Tally pats at Raelle's chest with the back of her hand and when Raelle looks to her, she points down the stadium's left side.

"Hey, Shitbird," Abigail laughs out loud before Raelle catches sight of what Tally points to. "Your Necro came!"

Raelle searches hastily for the familiar face. Sitting further in the back of the audience, Scylla stands from her chair along with the rest of the War College witches preparing to make their way outside for the bells. Even from the distance, Raelle can see blue eyes on her, and with a wave, Raelle is laughing again.

Beside her, Tally and Abigail rise with the other graduates and Tally pulls Raelle to her feet. "Are you ready? I'm so ready, guys!"

Abigail drags her two sister along behind her, zig zagging them through the crowd until they're welcomed by the bright sun and the warm breeze of the day.

When everyone is out and the bells begin to chime, everyone around her fidgets nervously. Glory stands beside her unit, shifting from leg to leg and her nerves--along with everyone else's--begin to seep into Raelle as well. The bells seem to go on for much longer than they should be, and Raelle feels her heart pounding in her chest like a caged lion fighting to be free.

She scratches at her hand nervously and looks down when she feels a slight burning sensation on her palm. In an angry red rash, the perfectly scribbled S forms its way down the whole of her sweaty palm. Just at the sight, Raelle feels her breath steady itself and her heart transforms from the angry lion into a delicate dove. She looks up at the hundreds of faces surrounding them, but Scylla's beauty is out of view, wherever she is.

At the ninth and final bell, Raelle, Tally, Abigail and every other young witch around her take their metals into their fingertips and watch as it changes ever so slightly, sealing their fates.

Tally is the first one to scream, but she's followed by cheers and laughter and jubilation. Raelle barely sees the words "War College" before she's tackled into a hug by the taller red head. Squished between her two towering sisters and forced to jump along with them, she hears more than sees Glory join them behind her, leaving her with no other option but to join in as well and celebrate.

"War College, baby!!!" Abigail shouts, ignoring her mother's warning shot look to tone it down in front of the Chain of Command. Tally, Glory, Raelle, and a handful of other War College bound soldiers give off a loud chorus of woo-hoos.

Soon, everyone goes their own ways to see their families and head off to do other things and Raelle quickly begins her search for her girlfriend. It doesn't take long, however, as Scylla comes barreling toward her with a tight hug and a small squeal.

"Welcome to War College life, Raelle Collar!" Scylla says. "You're not getting rid of me that easily!"

"I wouldn't dream of it, Scyl." Raelle lifts Scylla from the ground and spins her around in a fury of laughter and rapture.

"So much for that war meat plan you had." Scylla says once she's set back on the grass. She cups Raelle's face in her hands and looks deep into her crystal blue eyes.

"I guess I found something worth fighting for." Raelle says, the smile on her lips bigger than it had ever been before. She leans forward and captures her girlfriend's lips with her own.

"I love you." Scylla says surely.

"I lov--"

"Private Collar!" Raelle and Scylla are off of one another in a second like a hot stove and a bare hand. Anacostia comes marching down the green field toward them, her lips pursed as usual when she sees Raelle doing basically anything. "Public displays of affection are prohibited while in uniform, no matter what the circumstance. Just because you're in War College now does not change that fact. You should definitely know that by now, Ramshorn." Anacostia's eyes are on the Necro knowingly and Scylla nods her head with a wry smile.

"Yes, Ma'am."

Anacostia looks between the two in silent regard before setting her gaze on her soldier. "Congratulations, Private Collar. You and your unit showed an immense amount of skill and perseverance during your time in basic training. I look forward to you three and your continuous goals to frustrate me and age me prematurely." With a hint of a smile, Anacostia turns away and begins her walk back to the buildings and her other soldiers. "Enjoy your time with your father off base, Collar." She calls back.

With those last words, Raelle turns back to Scylla, eyes wide. "My dad! I almost forgot!"

Scylla nods with a smile and takes Raelle's hand in hers. She brings their hands up and places a kiss on Raelle's knuckles. "Have a great time with your father."

Raelle furrows a brow. "What do you mean? I'm obviously taking you to meet him."

Scylla raises her own eyebrows in surprise. "Me?"

"Of course. I want my dad to meet my amazing and beautiful girlfriend. We're going to a pizza joint with the unit and their families and I want you to come with us."

Before Scylla can object, Raelle is pulling her along behind her to introduce the two most important people in her life to each other.

#raylla #raylla fic #motherland fort salem #motherland fort salem fic #raelle x scylla

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

Text

A Stake of Holly in Her Heart Pt. 5

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

Benny’s is nothing special, Max thinks as they pull up into the mostly empty parking lot, which is nothing but a slab of concrete without any lines painted on it.

From the outside, it looks like a dingy old diner with about the same charm as the middle school cafeteria. On the inside, well, it’s just a dingy old diner with the same charm as a school cafeteria, with its greasy tiled floors and stained up old walls painted a sickening baby blue.

It’s about as full as you’d expect a place like that to be on Christmas Day, as in, other than a handful of elderly customers on the stools at the counter, they are completely alone.

They sit down at a cracking booth by the window, which Max notes was probably last cleaned before she was even born, and an older woman approaches them with a menu.

Steve must know her, chats up a storm about the daily special and school, about life in general and the old owner of the place before ordering for the both of them, and all the while Max just sits back and watches.

Even after the waitress comes back with a pot of coffee, and the two slices of pie Steve promised, she stays leaning back in her seat, arms crossed over her chest, watching.

There’s a tension burning under her skin, and she wants nothing to do with the pleasantries. If they were here to talk, then talk they would.

Steve goes to say something between bites of sugar cream pie, an Indiana specialty apparently, but Max cuts him off, her tone harsh. “Why did you bring me here?”

He looks confused, looking up as her with a stupid look on his face. “We’re avoiding the Christmas party?”

“Oh, sure, so you’re totally not trying to lay your claim now that my brother’s not here to stop you, right?” That might’ve been a little mean, but she doesn’t really know what to think right now.

He takes her to a remote location on the very edge of town when she’s supposed to be with a crowd of people because, what did he say, he didn’t want her to deal with them right now? She thinks she has the right to be concerned.

“I-No, I’m not.” Steve sits up straight in his seat. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

She nods over-exaggeratedly. “Is that before or after you make your move?”

There’s a certain pleading tone in his voice, one that obviously means he doesn’t want Max to think poorly of him, as he says, “Max, really I’m not trying to be a weirdo, I just figured you’d want to talk about Billy.”

She would be lying if she said hearing his name doesn’t take the air right out of her lungs. If just for a moment, she’s frozen.

Because nobody actually says Billy’s name anymore, just things like ‘your step brother’ or ‘Neil’s boy’. Sometimes Hargrove, and maybe even William once or twice, but never Billy.

It takes some effort for her to muster up the will to keep arguing after that, but Max has a retort at the ready, once she evens her breaths and moves past the initial shock. “What’s there to talk about? Everyone’s already forgotten about him anyways.”

“I haven’t.” Steve looks her dead in the eye, the most serious she’s ever seen him outside of a life threatening situation. “Don’t think I ever will.”

She scoffs, “Yeah, well, negative sentiments don’t count for much either.”

Everyone knows things were a little rocky between Billy and Steve, so she’s expecting him to rub it in her face that her brother was a bad person who beat people up for fun, or whatever the general opinion of those who didn’t know him was.

But Steve shocks her again by saying, “I never said that.”

And it's so beyond frustrating, talking in circles with Steve, that Max decides to cut her losses. Bites her tongue and sinks further back in the pleather booth, casting her eyes down to show him that she’s done with this.

If she would’ve known he’d be this annoying, she would’ve just made him take her to the Wheeler’s and leave her alone for the rest of her life.

But he doesn’t get the message, though shes not sure if he’s even smart enough to, because he keeps talking. “Me and Billy, we didn’t- we were friends, in the end.”

“You probably don’t want to hear it from me, but we all, you know, like, feel pretty shitty after a, um, a personal loss like this.” The words come out slow as he tries to think of the best thing to say, and it’s her instinct to cut him off, but Max listens.

“E-Especially when it’s someone we care about so much.” There’s a focused sort of look on his face, like he’s trying to get Max to understand that there’s some reason behind what all he’s saying. “Just, what I’m trying to get at is that, I think I understand that in a way probably no one else in your life does.”

That sentence is what finally makes it click into place for Max, the reason why Steve won’t just get on with it and say what he means, the reason she’s even here in the first place.

Because Steve lost Billy too.

She realizes that they must have had a thing. The kind that was kept secret, unknown by anyone but maybe a select few for their safety. A thing not much at all unlike what she and Lucas have.

Of course she knew about Billy, about the ex-boyfriends in Cali and the fake girlfriend he acquired last spring around the same time a paternal rage-induced scar appeared in his eyebrow, but she never would’ve guessed that he he had someone, and especially not for that someone to be Steve Harrington.

The realization hits her like a freight train. A snotty, teary-eyed freight train.

Just knowing that he hadn’t been able to show up at Billy’s funeral, or grieve in public the loss that to him must have been earth-shattering, and that he even had to tell her in vague secrets about his relationship to her brother, her heart hurts incredibly for Steve, and she sheds a few silent tears for him

But then there’s this other feeling, this creeping warmth of something like relief deep inside Max. To know she wasn’t alone in her misery or her heartbreak, she feels seen for the very first time since they’d put Billy in the back of that ambulance.

All in one morning, she’d gone from feeling so iced out by her grief, the singular embodiment of mourning being orbited by the ignorant, the selfish, the cruel, and now there were at least two other people out there in the world who could share that pain with her.

Maybe Christmas wasn’t such a humbug after all.

To say that Max doesn’t know what to say now would be the understatement of the century. She’s totally floored, her mind still slowly trying to recuperate from the weight of what Steve just confessed to her.

Eventually she’s able to get her thoughts in order enough to ask, “How long were you guys, like, cool for?”

“He apologized in December.” Looking down into his mug, he takes a sip of coffee, reminding Max that hers is getting cold. “Two months later we were friends.”

She knows what that really means, that ‘friends’ meant he and Billy had started dating in February, and suddenly a couple of things start to come together.

Like the time when Billy had taken her into the city with promises of a shopping spree, but only bought a couple of little gifts and a bouquet of fancy roses that she never saw again. And the days when she’d wake up for school and he’d be missing because he spent the night somewhere without telling anybody, so Susan would have to drive her. Or when she would find him with things too expensive for his pool wages, like a new pair of ray bans, obvious gifts from the secret admirer.

It’s bittersweet, knowing it Steve was behind all of that.

Despite the tears welling up in her eyes, Max decides to try to crack a joke. “Does this mean you’re my brother in law now?”

Steve returns it by shrugging and saying, “I guess it does, shitbird.”

There is a moment where Max allows herself to laugh with Steve, her quiet giggle echoing in their empty little corner of the diner, but in her heart, she feels a pang of guilt when she looks to the booth in front of her, and thinks about how Billy should be there with them too, with his own slice of pie and a whole life ahead of him.

So Max sniffles, a gentle tear sliding down her cheek when she blinks, and says, “I’m sorry.”

Steve sighs heavily, and sets his cup down. “You don’t have a thing to be sorry for, Max.”

The tears make her voice wobbly, and it hardly comes out as she asks, “Don’t you miss him?”

“‘Course I do. All the time.” Steve says softly.

“Then I’m sorry.” Her bottom lip quivers, and she bites it to try to hold back the sob that comes after.

She can be grateful that Benny’s isn’t a very popular hangout spot these days, so that the only ones around to hear her crying are a couple of geezers whose hearing is probably too poor to notice anyways and Steve.

“Hey, don’t,” Steve starts to say, but his voice cracks, and there’s tears streaking his cheeks to match those on Max’s.

It’s probably good for them, crying it out over pie and coffee, and there’s something about the whole thing that just feels so right to Max, being able to talk with somebody who’s felt exactly what she’s been going through for these five grueling months of isolation.

To her, it feels like this is just where Billy would want her to be.

Eventually they get it out of their systems, crying until there are no tears left, and with a final dab at their eyes with wadded up printed napkins, they’re good to keep going.

Max is the first to strike the conversation back up, having noticed something particularly familiar about Steve’s denim vest. She has a sneaking suspicion it’s not too much unlike the jacket she’s wearing, in that both articles had at one point belonged to her brother.

She nods her head towards him. “Is that Billy’s?”

“What?” Steve looks down at himself like he’s completely forgotten what he’s wearing. “Oh, yeah. He forgot it at my place ages ago.”

She smiles to herself and says, “He did that a lot, forgot things.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” She nods assuredly and explains, “One time, he forgot to pick me up from school, and I didn’t have a bus pass so he had to drive all the way back and get me.”

“Sounds about like Billy.” There’s a warm smile spreading across Steve’s tear-stained face and an equally as warm chuckle. “You know I brought him here last year?”

Max raises an eyebrow and sips her coffee, but doesn’t say anything back. Steve continues in her place. “It was the night of the snowball, and, I’m sure you remember, his face was super messed up.”

“He wanted to talk, I told him we should come here, so we wouldn’t have to sit in his car.” Steve’s sort of staring off into space, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the tabletop. “We sat at this booth, and that was when he apologized.”

He looks back at Max now to say, “He told me about you too. How last Christmas was different because he didn’t know how to make it up to you.”

“He really loved you, Max.” His voice is thick, like he might start crying again.

Hers is barely above a whisper as she returns the sentiment. “I’m not the only one.”

For the rest of the night until closing, they spent their time exchanging stories of their memories with Billy, of times when he’d made them happy that they felt inclined to share.

They talked about how clumsy he could be, how weird his sense of humor was, his favorite off the wall music, anything and everything that comes to mind that encapsulated the Billy they knew.

One thing they don’t feel the need bring up is abusive parents or accidents at the mall, because that’s not the Billy they want to remember him by. They just talk and talk until they felt as close to one another as they had been to her brother, to his lover.

Just before 10, being that they’re the only stragglers left and Benny’s is about to close, the woman from before who’d taken their orders shoos them out with her politest smile.

From behind the counter, she had watched very moment of their emotional exchange, and some of the cheer in her own heart had been awakened, so she sent them away with some more baked goods before closing up.

Steve takes the long way back to old Cherry Road, trying to stretch this out for as long as he can. They didn’t much talk about it, sure, but his knowledge of how things were in the Hargrove-Mayfield house was enough that he knows he doesn’t want to send Max back there, not yet.

There’s a comfortable silence settled over them in the front seat, no sound but tires on wet pavement and faint Christmas carols drifting quietly through the radio.

Everything they could’ve possibly needed or wanted to say had already been aired out at Benny’s, minus some of the less than subtle stories they didn’t think they should share, so they both just take the time to appreciate the peace.

He’s able to get Max another forty five minutes away from home, letting her settle down in her seat with the heat as high as it can go, taking her drearily down scenic routes and back alley ways, but he can’t delay it forever.

He wishes he could, that didn’t have to take her back there at all, but rather give her the same chance for her freedom from that house that he’d pleaded so desperately with Billy to take before it was too late, but that was a discussion he knew very well she wasn’t ready for.

They pull up outside of the house to see the lights still on, and Max gives him a weak smile before stepping out onto the sidewalk.

She shuts the door behind herself, but she doesn’t budge, doesn’t take any further steps to leave, and Steve doesn’t either.

Rolling down the bimmers window, Steve leans across the seat and says to her, “Listen, if you ever need anything at all just, please let me know. We can do this again anytime.”

She nods and stuffs her hands in her pockets, a look on her face like she’s deep in thought. Steve takes that as his cue that it’s time to leave.

One last smile, a “Merry Christmas, Max,” and he’s pulling away, leaving her to stand alone in the icy breeze.

Making sure he’s well and gone, the sight of his taillights no longer visible from where she's standing, Max takes the envelope that contains Maria’s card out of her pocket, rubbing her thumb over the back of the smooth red paper.

She doesn’t know why she kept it a secret. Of all people, Steve deserves to know, but she figures this is something she’s got to work through on her own.

The front door creaks open behind her, and Susan, dressed in a robe and with her hair up in curlers, calls her inside with scorn in her voice for being out so late.

But not even that can deflate the growing feeling in her chest, of camaraderie, of belonging, of having a friend worth more to her than her mothers bitterness could ever take away.

No, Max goes up the steps to meet her mother in the doorway not with fear or apprehension, but with a certain pride about her, one that might have even been compared to the very swagger that Billy would’ve carried himself with, were he the one to come home after his curfew to find Neil at the door.

Read also on ao3!

#max mayfield #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #ej writer #story by EJ!#I keep shifting from proud of this to not even a little proud of this #but i don’t care here it is I like it it’s alright #thank you to everyone commenting on ao3 y’all have given me so much inspiration!!#school starts back up today so I might be late posting chapter 6 over on ao3 #it pretty much only needs some editing though so maybe not!#it will be up today though you can count on that

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strangergrove · 4 years

Note

ok, so how about #13 and #34 with lots and lots of hurt!Billy, please! Because that's my favorite! ❤❤🙂Thanks, friend!

Sorry this a) took 18 centuries to get to and b) isn't as much hurt!Billy as you probably wanted. But I'm writing a much more intense version of this, so I'll link that here when it's done.

13) "Does it hurt?"

34) Monster hunting

The night sky was like glittering velvet, stretching out over the quarry in a beautiful veil. Billy leaned back on the Camaro’s hood and let a trail of smoke slip between his lips as he smiled. It felt good, the fresh air, the cool breeze, Steve’s gaze on him. Billy didn’t want the night to end, didn’t want to go back to his house on Cherry Lane, didn’t want to resume his disappointment of a life.

“Can we stay? Just a bit longer?” he asked.

Steve smiled, like he could read Billy’s thoughts in the way he spoke. And maybe he could. “Yeah. Just a bit.”

Steve moved a little closer, pressed his thigh against Billy’s and let his fingers brush Billy’s hand before resting on the car. Everything was still fresh, tender. Everything felt heavier, like there was more hanging on each word, each touch. And maybe there was. They didn’t speak, just took in the star-specked sky, the dark spread of forest around them, the heavens reflecting in the water below.

Something stirred in the trees behind them. Steve glanced back warily, but saw nothing. He turned back to Billy, snuggling against him and humming. It was nice. It was perfect. But then the rustling came again, this time much closer, much louder.

"Babe, I think we should go," Steve said quietly. "Like, now."

Billy sighed but slid off the Camaro all the same."I hate this," he muttered. "I want to actually be able to spend time with you. I want-"

An odd noise emanated from the woods and it was apparent from the look on Steve's face that he had heard it before. Without a word he dashed to his car and popped open the trunk. Within seconds he was slamming in shut again, a nail-studded bat in hand.

"Please tell me you have something in your car that can be used as a weapon!"

Billy stared at him. "What?"

Steve growled in frustration and ripped Billy's keys from his pants pocket. The only thing of use in Billy's trunk was a tire iron. That would have to be good enough. He pulled it out and shoved into Billy’s chest, saying “You’re gonna need this.”

Billy stared at his boyfriend. Could he call Steve that? Is that what- But something was charging out of the forest, cutting right through Billy’s train of thought. It was big and hideous and Billy wasted no time charging forward and swinging the tire iron right at the creature’s face. He then proceeded to bash the absolute shit out of it.

“What the fuck?” he yelled at Steve, who was staring back at him in surprise, in awe. "The fuck did I just kill, Steve? Good god…" Billy bent down and tentatively lifted one of the petals that made up the creatures face. "What the fuck? Look at all these teeth! Steve? Steve!"

But Steve was busy, swinging his nail-bat at another flower-faced dog from Hell. "Watch out!" he screamed at Billy, who had just started running toward him. But it was too late.

A grotesque body leapt through the air, tackling the blonde to the ground. Billy let out a sickening grunt, then a painful yell. Steve didn't wait to hear anything else. He was on top of the creature in seconds, trying to pry it off Billy.

It kept swiping over Billy with its innumerable rows of teeth, slicing through his skin like it was nothing. Billy growled, picking up his discarded weapon, and shoving it down the thing's throat. It let out an ear-splitting screech and crumpled. Steve rolled the carcass off Billy and helped the guy to his feet. They stood there, listening, but no other noises came.

"What. The. Fuck." Billy groaned and went back to lean on the Camaro again.

"Does it hurt?" Steve asked, gesturing at Billy's entire body.

Billy laughed. "Right now? No, not really. In five minutes? Yeah, gonna hurt like a fucking bitch." He sighed, long and slow. “You know what thing was, don’t you?”

Steve nodded, almost guiltily. “It’s a demo-thingy. I don’t know, Dustin came up with a stupid name for it."

“Max’s friend? Are you telling me Max knows? My little sister knows? But you didn’t tell me?” Steve smiled, despite the guilt coiling in his gut. “What? You think this is funny?”

“No,” Steve said quietly, looking up into Billy’s ocean eyes. “You called Max your little sister. It’s always ‘step-sister’ or ‘shitbird’ or ‘Maxine.’” He smiled again and Billy’s cheeks turned several shades of pink.

“You tell her that and you’re dead, Harrington.” Steve smiled and planted a warm, delicate kiss on Billy’s lips. Billy smirked. “I should threaten you more often…”

The degree to which Steve rolled his eyes was impressive. “Do you want me to tell you about this shit or not?”

“Only if I get more kisses like that when you’re done.”

"Sure, but after I get you to a hospital."

#my ficlets #harringrove fic #billy x steve #Billy hargrove #steve x billy #Steve harrington #Prompt fill #Monster hunting

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curiositydooropened · 4 years

Text

Steve was in the tunnels again. Flames licked at every screeching and wriggling particle of the place. His snorkel mask fogged, and sweat beaded under his brow, stinging at bite marks where Billy’s knuckles had met his bones. His head throbbed, ears barely hearing his own screams at the kids under the rapid pounding of his heartbeat in his skull. They ran back the way they came, or at least, following Wheeler, and Steve was glad years of hurdle jumping had trained him for moments like this. He dove over vines and around corners, using every sense but sight to find his way.

Wheeler went up first, gangly mother fucker, and then Sinclair. They helped Max, but Steve could feel them, those dog things. They curved around corners, unseen, unheard, but Steve could feel them on the back of his neck, licking like flame with barbed tongues and gaping faces. He held Dustin back, readying his bat for the worst.

Only, no dogs appeared, not like normal, not like he was used to. Instead, from around the corner, came Hargrove, muscle-tanked out, muscles raging and enflamed with black vines where his veins would be. Jesus, man, Steve wanted to say, lay off the juice. But he felt rooted to the spot, protecting Dustin, terrified.

“Am I dreaming, or is that you, Harrington?”

Suddenly, Steve could see clearly. They were outside the Byers’. Billy stood outside the open door of the Camaro, tongue out, chest out. Steve looked around himself. His head didn’t hurt. This didn’t feel right. Hadn’t he done this? He turned around, glancing through the front window, expecting to see the kids, peeping Toms with noses to the glass, instead he saw the chaos of flashing lights, technicolor. His heart raced.

The door flung open before his hands reached the knob. Jonathan lay on the floor, Nancy screaming for him, shots fired. Steve saw the bat on the ground beside Byers. He grasped for it, nearly missing the handle with shell-shocked hands. The wood felt good in his hands, smooth, natural, like too many summers playing little league. He could taste the sunflower seeds in his drying mouth.

The thing, a mere silhouette against seizure inducing flashes, didn’t stand as tall as he remembered. It held hands up, defensive, but he’d seen it before. He’d killed it before. He could still smell the burning flesh. He cocked his bat over his right shoulder and swung. Nancy called his name, a warning, but it was too late. He felt the satisfying squelch of skin and muscle around the sharp points of hammered nails.

Something felt wrong. He was in his room now, everything was dark, but he knew. He was standing by his bed, fist curled around the neck of the bat. The fuzz drowned in the ringing of his ears, the pounding of his heart in his chest. He was awake. He’d woken from a night terror in his room, and the moon began to pool in from the back window.

“Holy shit, oh my God, oh holy shit!” Robin squealed from behind him, causing him to drop the bat. It hit the ground with a heavier thud than he anticipated. Why was Robin there? In his room? She’s stayed over?

Everything clicked into place the moment Steve saw Billy Hargrove’s body, limp and propped against a nightstand, bat wedged into the spot on his chest already webbed with scar tissue. Billy had been there, asleep on the floor beside the bed, and Steve had had his usual nightmare. Only unlike every other night of his life, he swung and hit. Jesus fucking Christ, he killed Billy Hargrove again.

“Fuck, Billy?” His hands trembled as he reached for the bat. It didn’t come easily, lodged into the bone of the other boy’s sternum. Steve’s stomach churned. It wasn’t the same as hitting the demogorgon or those dogs. The sweat stuck at the base of his neck and chilled him to the bone. He’d never murdered a human being before. “Billy?” He called out again, pleading for a response he knew he wouldn’t get.

“What do we do? Oh holy shit, what do we do?” Robin paced in the background. She wouldn’t shut up, frantic, manic. She was right though, they couldn’t call 911. Billy was on the lamb. No one knew of his existence except the two of them and the workers of the lab he escaped from.

Steve ran a shaky hand through his hair, letting his bat fall at his feet. He knelt near Billy now, fully collapsing onto the floor at the foot of his bed. He reached out for the closest thing to him, Billy’s bare ankle, and wrapped his fingers around it, clenching at the muscle of the other boy’s calf, hoping to hold on to any life the other boy had left.

Billy sucked in a breath, and Robin shut up real quick. Oh, fuck. He wasn’t dead. He wasn’t dead, and he was probably choking on his own blood, and now Steve would have to kill him. Robin launched herself onto the bed, peering over the edge like a bird on a perch. “Is he alive?”

Billy coughed and sputtered, blood splattering the faces of the two watching over him, and he pushed himself to sit upright. “Hell of a swing, Harrington.”

It all felt too reminiscent of the mall, of claws diving into Billy’s chest through his tank top and of Steve watching from above, helpless. It felt like a dream, and Steve was drowning in Billy’s blood.

Billy reached a hand for help, and reluctantly, Steve helped him sit up, propped against the nightstand. The lamp and glass of water jiggled under the new weight. Robin reached up to flick the light on, and the two boys winced as their eyes adjusted.

Scarlet was a good color on Billy, much better than the chemical induced black blood from Starcourt Mall, the infected ooze of possessed Billy fighting off his demons, his own personal hell. The rich, deep red pouring from his chest made his eyes more blue, accentuated the tan of his skin. Steve thought he might vomit.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked back anything but words that threatened to come up.

Robin squeaked her 100th “holy shit” from the bed.

“I’m so going to kick your ass,” Billy seethed, lips accented in red, chest rocking back and forth.

It was a sick fucking joke. Steve could see all the times they’d fought, could still feel the force of Billy’s fist against his flesh again and again and again. He could hear Billy’s demented laughter over the ringing of his boxed ears. When that plate was smashed over his head, Steve was pissed, sure, but he never meant for it to end like this.

Robin let out whispered worried, and Billy side-eyed her. “Relax, shitbird, I’m fine.”

He didn’t look fucking fine, and Steve was far from fine, and he couldn’t imagine what the hell was going through Robin’s mind.

“I’m serious,” Billy coughed. “It hurts like a fucking bitch, but I’m fine.” He grabbed the corner of Steve’s sheet and mopped at the blood on his chest. Great, now he’d have to explain that to mom, not to mention the corpse that would soon be laying heavy against his nightstand.

Steve then realized that beneath the smudged blood, where nail entry wounds should have been, were tiny pinpricks, slowly stitching back together to create perfectly round scars.

“Holy. Shit.”

What the fuck?

---

I’ve been working on this fic for a really long time, and I really felt in the mood to write tonight. So I wanted to get this snippet out there. It’s a major spoiler if I ever write the rest of it, but I don’t know. Keep your eyes peeled for the start of it. I think I’m having fun with the idea of Healer!Billy and Nightmare!Steve.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringgrove #language #horror #writeblr #ao3

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thessalian · 4 years

Text

Thess vs Twitter Rage

I seldom check Twitter anymore, but I do every now and then. Currently, it’s going crazy because Miriam Margolyes was in an interview on Channel 4 and said that she couldn’t help wishing Boris Johnson was dead.

Of course, UK Twitter went nuts over this. Half of it is cheering her on. The other half is screaming rage at her and asking how she could possibly say such a horrible thing. Thing is, no one waits for an answer to that particular question; they see it as a rhetorical one, because no reason could possibly suffice.

I have one that suffices for me: how about, “His entire government wants her dead, and if it’s him or her, she’d probably prioritise her own survival”?

Seriously, Boris Johnson could be considered just one more in a long line of Tory assholes who have been slowly killing off or at least sorely punishing those they deem ‘unworthy’ - the elderly, the disabled, the poor. However, he’s more than that. He has been since he started getting involved in British politics. He pushed Brexit, and is now insisting that we ride that train off the cliff as soon as possible despite the current situation that’s wrecking the economy. Of course, then there’s the whole “pandemic preparedness” thing, which of course didn’t actually exist because Johnson didn’t do things like ... you know, attend COBRA meetings. His government took the line of ‘herd immunity’ when we didn’t even know how far antibody response would go. They still haven’t got enough PPE for front line workers. They lied and lied and lied, and they honestly don’t care if people die, so long as it’s not “their” people. And Johnson’s head of the queue in that regard. He doesn’t want to be Prime Minster; he wants to have been Prime Minister. He doesn’t want to do the job; he wants the power. I am going to throw a copy of Spider-Man at his head.

So is this enough to merit a death wish on the man? Well. Given the twisted electoral system in this country, and the fact that far too many people voted out of greed and jingoism in the last election, we can’t vote him out. The man constantly appears in front of Parliament looking like he literally just crawled out of a dumpster and uses “erm” and “ah” in his speeches the way I use garlic in cooking, and yet he’s the leader of the Conservative Party and we can’t make him leave. So yeah, honestly, without the entire country rising up against Johnson (which is never going to happen), death’s the only way to get the shitbird out of office before he does irreparable damage.

He might already have done irreparable damage, but I’m trying to be optimistic that we can fix at least some of this...

Anyway. Point is that yeah, Miriam Margolyes is an elderly woman who Johnson’s whole government is happy to let die. Johnson’s second-in-command literally said that “if a few pensioners die, so be it”. I don’t think it’s unfair that she cannot help but wish him dead. I don’t judge her for this. Hell, a big part of why I don’t wish Johnson dead is because I know that the alternative, his second-in-command Cummings, is worse.

People have brought up the false equivalence argument of “If the person she wished dead had been queer or black or Jewish or something, everyone’d be all up in arms”. That ... would actually depend on why. If someone wished a queer person dead because that queer person was systematically killing the most vulnerable people in the country they were in charge of? Yeah, don’t blame them there. If someone wished a queer person dead because they were queer ... then I have issues. Note the difference? One is just existing and not hurting anyone. The other is making a good head start on genocide.

Look, let’s look at it another way: if Hitler wasn’t already dead, a lot of people would wish he was dead. A lot of people did wish he was dead; we just celebrated VE Day in honour of what we as a country did about that wish. Maybe if people wish the leader of a nation dead, they should have a quick look at what that leader is doing to their nation and really actually consider why anyone might rather that leader be dead than ... you know, leading. Or failing to lead, in Johnson’s case.

I will not say this on Twitter. I’m not sticking my arm in that pirahna tank. But I will vent about it here. I don’t tend to wish people dead, for a great many reasons, but that’s just me. Some people don’t have the same ways to express their hate for someone as I do, is all. I won’t judge a 78-year-old woman who is not exactly going to be able to act on that wish (that she’s actively trying not to have, from the sound) for a lack of charity for a politician who’s happy enough to let her and people like her die for the sake of the economy.

#Thess has opinions

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unfortunate-stranger-losers · 5 years

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It’s the Hard-Knock Life - an ATWQ Modern AU [tumblr] [ao3]

ONE - FIRST IMPRESSIONS (or, how Lemony got Annie banned from the Far East Apartment)

Lemony slumped down at the table, glanced up at the empty chair, and said, “So, like, where the hell is our guardian?”

S. Theodora Markson’s seat, which was always occupied at exactly 9:30am for breakfast (she insisted everyone follow schedule, though not a schedule that would interfere with her sleep), was suspiciously missing a large-haired, vaguely annoyed woman.

Jacques, who was in his chair, as he always was, and was salting his scrambled eggs, as he always was, simply said, “She’s out.”

“She has a life?” Lemony gawked, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. “I thought she just yelled at us, fucked off to the police station for eight hours, and then came back and slept for a hundred years.”

“Don’t be rude, Lemony.” Jacques scolded. “Theodora has given us a home out of the goodness of her-”

“She gets paid to watch us, Jacques.”

“Just because foster parents are paid by the state-”

“That’s why she has us, so she can afford alcohol.”

“She’s not-”

“Oh no? What do you think’s in the locked cabinet under her bed?”

“First of all, why would you know-”

“Lockpicking was the first thing Aunt A taught us, Jacques. I could do that before I learned how to read.”

Jacques took a deep breath. “If you’ve drunk alcohol-”

“Don’t fret, Jacques, it tastes like shit.”

“Lem!”

Thankfully for Lemony, Kit arrived late to breakfast- while not usual, per se, there had been some precedence for it before, if she was caught up in a book or project- and as she tied her hair back into its usual bun, she said, “Hey, shitbirds, when are the new kids arriving?”

“Don’t call us shitbirds, we’re your siblings.” Jacques said.

“What new kids?” Lemony asked.

Kit gave him a look. “Do you pay attention to anything Ms Markson says over dinner?”

“No, I tune out and long for death. Or text Beatrice.”

“Same thing.” Jacques muttered.

Lemony flared. “Just because she’s goth doesn’t mean she’s fueling my depression, asshole.”

“Seriously, you two,” Jacques groaned as Kit grabbed a breakfast bar, which had been left at her spot at the table. “What did Theodora say about language?”

“Fuck that.” Kit sat down, smirking. “Anyway, L, she’s got two new foster kids comin up. Congrats! You’re a big brother! Or maybe little brother still. Depends on how old they are.”

“Two new kids?” Lemony looked upset. “Are we gonna have to share beds?”

“We’ll just have to clear all our clothes off the empty bunk bed.”

“But that’s our closet!”

“The closet is the closet, Lem.” Jacques groaned.

“No, that’s the prison for when Kit pisses me off.”

At the same time, Kit said, “That’s his sulking closet.”

Jacques rolled his eyes. “Well, you better get it cleaned up before they arrive. Theodora said she’d be back after noon, but we better make our own lunch, because she’s treating the kids to McDonald’s or something like that.”

“How come she doesn’t treat us to McDonald’s?” Lemony asked sourly.

“Because you’re a little monster.”

“Okay, fair.” Lemony sighed. “But do I have to clean? I was hoping to go to Beatrice’s.”

“Clean it before the new kids get here or I’m gonna hang you from the window like a clothesline.”

“Okay, geez.”

Lemony and Kit did manage to find room for their clothes in the closet, and Jacques made them clean up a little of the rest of the room, too- books in their proper places, socks in the sock drawer, schoolbooks in their backpacks.

“I don’t see the point.” Lemony sighed, picking apart the grilled cheese Jacques had made them. “They’re moving in with us, they should know what they’re getting into from the get-go.”

“We should make a good first impression, Lem.”

“We should make an accurate first impression.”

“And,” Kit said, glancing at the door, just as the lock began to turn, “First impressions start now.”

She tossed the rest of her sandwich in the trash, grabbed Lemony’s and tossed it, too, and hauled her younger brother to his feet. Jacques jumped up, pushing Lemony’s hair back, as if he could make it more presentable that way.

“Stop being dicks!” Lemony hissed.

The apartment door opened, and Jacques led his siblings from the table, over the small border between the “living room” and kitchen- which, really, were only separated by the kitchen having wood floor and the living area having carpeting- and to the doorway, as S Theodora Markson entered, still untangling her driving helmet from her bushy hair, followed by a tall girl with night-black hair, a green duffel bag slung over her shoulder, and a garbage bag in her other hand. She glanced around at the other kids with a detached disinterest, her eyebrows curved a little like question marks, as a boy followed close behind, only carrying his trashbag. The boy was much smaller, with curly ginger hair, normal eyebrows, and hazel eyes, as opposed to the girl’s green. In other words, they didn’t seem to be related at all.

“Right.” Theodora removed her helmet, tossing it into the corner. “Children, allow me to introduce your new siblings.”

“Foster siblings.” Kit corrected. “They probably won’t even stay long.”

“I won’t.” the girl said.

“Now, now, don’t be rude. Be sensible. Be proper.” S Theodora said. She turned to the Snicket siblings. “Children, these are Jacques, Kit and Lemony Snicket. Snickets, these are Ellington Feint and Drumstick… what was your last name again?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Drumstick sighed.

“What kind of a name is Drumstick?” Lemony asked.

“What kind of a nickname is Lemony?” Drumstick snapped.

“Children!” S Theodora shouted, and Lemony begrudgingly went quiet. “Now, I have to return to work, so, Snickets, I expect you to get the new children settled. No troublemaking, no fights, and I also expect you to go over the rules, so that I won’t be bothered to do it.”

“Of course.” Jacques sighed.

“They’ll be going to school with you, and I expect you to stand up for them. People tend to bully orphans.”

“I’m not an orphan.” Ellington snapped.

“Of course you are, you have no parents. Children, I’ll return in time for dinner. Who’s making it tonight?”

“Me.” Kit said. It was Theodora’s night, but nobody liked her cooking.

“Excellent! Ellington, Drumstick, I’ll see you when I return.”

With that, the woman grabbed her driving helmet, and ducked out.

“Isn’t she lovely?” Kit said. “We’ve had her for the past- how long’s it been, L?”

“Fifteen months, twenty-seven days. Don’t call me L.”

“Right.” Kit said. “We’ve been expecting new kids for a while now-”

“Because Theodora gets paid per kid.” Lemony said, gesturing. “Follow me, our room’s this way.”

“We’re sharing a room?” Drumstick asked nervously.

“Not enough space for more than one kids’ room. Don’t worry, we change in the bathroom.”

“Now, Lemony-” Jacques ran to catch up, as the new children followed him, and Kit fell back to walk by Ellington, “Theodora’s fostering us because she cares about us.”

“Yeah. If we die, she doesn’t get paid.”

“Lemony!” Jacques turned to the others. “I’m sorry about him. He’s a pessimist.”

“He’s realistic.” Kit said under her breath.

“It’s fine, we get it.” Ellington said. “Don’t worry about us, though. I’ve been to twelve foster homes in the last two months, so I don’t expect to stay long.”

“Twelve in two months?” Kit whistled. “How’d you manage that?”

“Kept running away. Plan to continue.”

“Please don’t.” Jacques said, holding open the door to their room. “You could get hurt.”

“And we’ll get in trouble for it.” Kit added.

Ellington walked into the room, scanning it slightly. Then she said, “Kid, you’re staying longer. You want top or bottom bunk?”

“Um…” Drumstick adjusted his hold on his bag. “I’m not great with heights.”

“Well, I am, that works out.” Ellington swung her duffel up onto the top bunk, and then sat down, opening the trashbag. “My shit’s in here, but it probably won’t stay long. Might as well set up my record player, though.”

“Why do you still have a record player?” Lemony asked, sitting on his bed and grabbing his laptop.

“Why do you look like a goth Eddie Kaspbrak?”

“Okay, so, first off,” Kit clapped her hands together, as Drumstick dragged his stuff to the bottom bunk and opened his bag, “Um, Rule One is we’re supposed to try to get along.”

“Keyword being ‘try.’” Lemony said, already loading up Discord in order to tell his associates why he was stuck at home that day.

“Kit, I can go over the rules-” Jacques began.

“No, they won’t listen to you, you’re a little bitch.”

“Excuse me?”

Drumstick flinched, pulling some clothes out of his bag. “Where do I put-”

“That dresser’s empty, unless Kit’s adopted cockroaches again.” Lemony gestured.

Jacques groaned, as Kit said, “Yeah, rule number two, Jacques is our designated bug killer, I’m the designated bug freer. Choose wisely which one you want as your ally. Um, let’s see… you have to be home before 10:00pm every night, breakfast is at 9:30am and if you don’t show up you don’t get food, piss off Ms Markson and you get put on probation- don’t ask, we don’t know what it entails, either, but she can ground us from things we like so watch out for that.”

Drumstick pushed his clothes into a single drawer- he didn’t seem to have very many- and Lemony asked, “Why do you have your stuff in trashbags?”

Drumstick flinched again, and so did Ellington, who was pulling black clothes out to stuff somewhere. Kit and Jacques both shot Lemony angry looks, too.

“Um… it’s the only bags the social services workers had for us.” Drumstick muttered.

“It doesn’t matter.” Ellington said again. “I’m leaving soon as I get the chance.”

“Good luck.” Lemony snorted. “We’re on the thirteenth floor and Theodora keeps the doors locked.”

“Yeah,” Jacques said, “Because someone kept picking the locks and going out for root beer floats.”

“I could’ve jumped onto a train. You’re just lucky my need for food outweighs my need to get as far away from Theodora as I possibly can.” He glanced at his Discord. “Oh, uh, new kids on the block? Jake says hi.”

“I don’t know who that is.” Drumstick said.

“Wait, more rules.” Kit said. “No polka, or Lemony will kill you. Frozen sing-a-longs are mandatory. Snitches get stitches, so if you see me sneak someone in and out-”

“Which won’t happen, because nobody wants to hang out with you, let alone date.” Lemony said.

“Uncalled for.” Kit didn’t even flinch. “Long story short, we don’t snitch on each others’ activities to Ms Markson. You’ll get beat up soon as she leaves.”

“That’s not a rule.” Jacques said, confused.

“It is now. Personal property is just that- personal. Don’t steal our shit, we don’t steal yours. We each swap out dinner-making days but you can probably convince Ms Markson to let you skip that if you suck at cooking.”

“I can make vegan stuff.” Drumstick said, pulling a pair of shoes from his bag and settling them under his bed, and then pulling out another pair.

“Good. That’s a start.” Kit said. “If Lemony sends you a secret message, you hand it over to us.”

“Hey!”

“No poison in the sugar bowl, we’ve already tried that. You can’t skip school or we get in trouble. We will not sit in detention with you, either. Embarrassing stories are to be kept to a minimum. Anything told in the Secrets Closet is secret.”

“What’s the Secrets Closet?” Drumstick asked, while Ellington finished putting her dresses away and scampered up the ladder to her top bunk.

“There’s a closet behind the pantry,” Kit said, “Which is hard to find, so obviously Theodora doesn’t know about it. Anything we tell each other in there is not to be told to anyone, or we’re legally allowed to kill each other.”

“That’s what happened to the last kid.” Lemony said.

“That’s a joke!” Jacques clarified quickly, as Drumstick dropped his fourth pair of shoes in shock. “He’s joking!”

“Sure I am.”

“Oh! Also, Annie is banned in this house.”

Ellington paused. “Annie what?”

“Annie.” Kit said seriously. “The musical, the 1982 film, the 1999 film, the 2014 film, the comic strip, the stage musical sequel-”

“There’s a sequel?” Drumstick asked.

“There’s only one good song.” Kit said. “Anyway, it got banned because of our dickfuck of a baby brother.”

Lemony sighed. “All I did was point at the TV every time Ms Hannigan came onscreen, turn to Theodora and say ‘that’s you.’”

To their surprise, Ellington laughed a little at that. She opened her duffel bag, digging through it. “Good one, Snicket lad. So, why are you here?”

Kit cocked her head to the side. “Pardon?”

“Foster care.” Ellington said. “Is Theodora your aunt or some shit?”

Drumstick paused. “Um, El- Ellington, I don’t know if that’s- is that rude?”

“Don’t care.” she pulled a bag of coffee out of her duffel. “Why you lot here?”

Kit glanced nervously at Jacques, and he cleared his throat. “Well, um, our- our parents died when we were four and Lemony was a baby, and our Grandpa had us for a while, then he went to jail- long story- and we went to our aunt, then her sibling, and then-”

“A lot of places.” Lemony said, glaring down at his screen. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, doesn’t matter.” Kit nodded. “Cause we stick together. We Snicket siblings look after our own.”

“Oh, good for you.” Ellington said, still digging through her bag. “Drum and I aren’t so lucky. Isn’t that right, Drum?”

“Ellington-”

“We’re together in this case cause we were hiding out in the same coffee shop.” Ellington said. “Me from CPS, him from his bastard dad. CPS found us and they just… shoved him with me, I guess.”

“Ellington, we don’t need to go over this.” Drumstick said shakily. “I don’t like being here either, but we need to make the… the best of it.”

“I’m not making the best of anything.” Ellington said. “I’m not an orphan. My Dad’s coming back for me. Or I’ll find him. But he didn’t abandon me and he’s not dead so I’m only here until he comes back.”

They were silent for a good, long while, the four other kids sharing looks.

Then, quietly, Kit said, “Hey, newbs. You wanna see something cool?”

Ellington sighed, while Drumstick slid his last pair of shoes with the rest and said, “What?”

“Come on down here.” Kit said. Hesitantly, Ellington slid down the ladder, and Lemony sighed and shut his laptop. The children grouped in the center of the room, and then Kit stepped back and shut off the lights.

Up, on the ceiling above them, several lights twinkled, sparkling above them; they’d been impossible to see with the lights on, but now they shone down. Drumstick gasped, and even Ellington’s green eyes widened with shock.

“Glow-in-the-dark paint.” Kit smiled. “All of us made some constellations up there. You can add on, if you want. When you want. Gives us a night light.”

“And it’s pretty.” Jacques added.

Ellington hesitated, and then said, “You guys paint?”

“Only a little.” Kit admitted. “But my friend R is an astronomer, so she helped us design the thing. We still need some more stars, though, if you’re up for it.”

Ellington bit her lip and glanced at the ground. Drumstick looked from her to Kit, and then to Lemony and Jacques.

Kit flicked the lights back on, and then said, “Ellie-girl, why don’t you show us some of your records?”

Ellington didn’t meet her eye, but she did shrug. “Sure.”

“And Drum, tell us why you have so many fucking shoes.”

Drumstick smiled a little. “Shoes are an interest of mine.”

“Oh, like my writing.” Lemony said. “And like Jacques’s murder mystery novels and Kit’s engineering, and Theodora’s hair.”

Ellington smiled, and the Snickets were surprised to see that her smile could have meant anything. “Yeah, meant to ask you. What is up with the hair?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Lemony smiled. Then, he said, “Oh! Kit, you forgot one more rule.”

“Which one?”

Lemony grinned. “The unlocked liquor cabinet under her bed is totally off-limits.”

Drumstick’s face turned as red as his hair, Ellington let out a real, delighted laugh, and Jacques screamed, “Lemony, you’re thirteen!”

#atwq #all the wrong questions #asoue #a series of unfortunate events #lemony snicket #hard knock life fic #mine #my fanfic #hard knock life au

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screensirenfic · 4 years

Text

Black Leather - Chapter 28

The junkyard was pretty much what the name implied; a big stretch of land heaped up with shit that was better left forgotten by time.

I came here with Charlie sometimes to find scrap parts for old cars; usually just found scrap instead.

Everyone knew that the decent scrapyards were out Wyoming way.

Still; the kid had done an alright job, all things considered.

It was pretty defensible as a base, and the school bus looked like it could hold out against nuclear war, and probably was designed that way if the history books were anything to go by.

I could already see some decent scrap we could use as a barricade, and with a little elbow grease; we might even be able to improvise some traps.

“Oh yeah; this will do. This will do just fine.” Steve spoke my thoughts out loud, clearly on the same wavelength when it came to finding a defensible home base.

“Good call; kid.” I praised Dustin, earning me one of those toothy smiles, and I hoped some of my dad’s hero worship wasn’t rubbing off on me.

——————————————————

The best of half an hour was spent spreading round the rest of the meat; only a minimal amount of it ending up being flung at each other, because as much as I liked horsing around with Steve; I valued my innards more, and didn’t want to come across as a tasty snack for a hungry demogorgon.

Our efforts ended with us heaping the dregs of our buckets in a pile in the middle of the junkyard, creating what we’d hope would look like an all you can eat buffet to any unsuspecting monster, and the perfect ambush spot to us.

“I said medium-well!” A voice yelled from across the junkyard, and Steve, Dustin and I all looked in its direction.

Two kids and a shiny new racer bike were heading our way with painfully eager expressions, and I wondered when me and Steve signed up to be counselors at Camp Shitstain?!

“Who’s that?” Steve asked, because he was still painfully dumb, and we were probably gonna have to fix that, but not till I sorted out that look on Dustin’s face.

Steve may have been an idiot, but to me it was glaringly obvious that the redheaded girl on the back of that bike was the object of his affections.

And if the way his face sunk harder than the Titanic was a signifier of his feelings; it looks like Red was already smitten with her speed racer.

“Hey kid; you wanna talk with your friend for a bit? Cos if you want I can keep Red busy?” I asked, giving Dustin an out if he wanted, because there was clearly a discussion that needed to be had here, and it was probably best if the lady in question was out of the picture for that.

“Yeah; that would be good, actually.” Dustin replied, probably sounding the most grown up he had since I’d joined this this party.

“Alright. You just leave this to me.” I reassured him, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder, before approaching the young redhead girl.

“Hey Red; can you give me a hand?”

——————————————————-

So Little Miss Lovetriangle was actually a big help, but maybe it was because at least someone around here wasn’t worried about getting her hands messy.

It did also help that I knew all about unwillingly being the rope in a testosterone filled game of tug of war.

The kid didn’t even seem to have an interest in the boys; and I was really gonna have to start learning names, because Dipshits One and Two and Red were really not suitable names in a crisis.

Right now; me and Red were busy melding corrugated metal sheets to the bus in a last ditch attempt at armour playing against demogorgons, whilst the two boys were still playing therapist, and Steve was off god knows where doing god knows what.

It was almost poetic; really. The two females of the group doing all the heavy lifting whilst the men were too busy bickering and being emotional.

Still; someone had to do it, and me and Red were down to our last sheet.

“On the count of three. One. Two. Three.” I instructed, before we managed to bend sheet metal around the front corner of the bus by hand.

It took some elbow grease, but we still managed to do it, and fuck; if I wasn’t proud of our work, creating our own Firt Knox outta scrap metal and chicken wire.

“Great work; kid!” I praised her; reaching out for a fist bump, which she eagerly returned.

I wiped the beading of sweat on my forehead, taking in what would hopefully hold us safely until Steve and I could figure out a way to kill a mutant lizard.

“You know; I never actually got your name?” I asked the girl; because it was probably rude of me to just call her Red this entire time.

“Max. Max Mayfield.” The girl replied, holding out a sweaty palm to shake.

“Lola. Lola Hopper.” I offered the same in return, taking her hand and shaking it firmly.

“You know; it’s funny...” Max smiled with withheld laughter, still shaking my hand.

“What’s funny?” I asked, letting go of her hand with a smile.

“My older brother goes on and on about this girl he knows called Lola...” She continued; that smile turning into a full on smirk, that sparked my curiosity.

“Well; what’s his name? Maybe I know him?” I asked, my interest officially peaked, and my mind now scanning for any fiery redheads I knew of.

“Billy.” She stated; and I felt the bottom suddenly drop out of my stomach.

She couldn’t be talking about him; could she?

“Billy? Billy Hargrove?” I asked; the question a near mimic of his own introduction to me, though with far more apprehension.

“Yeah. Know him?” Max nodded; clearly not picking up on my uneasiness with the topic, because did Billy really talk about me at home?

“Yeah. I know him.” I replied, not giving anything away with my answer, as there was no real way of knowing what bullshit Billy spurted about me behind closed doors.

“But you can’t possibly be that Lola...” Max scoffed; a small smile of incredulity crossing her face. “You’re not—“

“A dumb blonde with tits bigger than my head?” I asked; having already perfectly painted a mental picture of Billy’s usual type, and knowing that I didn’t fit the bill in the slightest.

“You are that Lola! Jesus; Wow!” She exclaimed; and for once I was hopeful that the gossip Billy was saying about me might at least hold a slither of truth.

“You are so not what I expected.” Max stated, leaning down to help me pick up another piece of metal, and I began to wonder what exactly she’d expected me to be like?

Probably a stuck up, slutty bitch who’d look more in place on a poster in Billy’s room then digging through trash in a junk yard.

Hope I wasn’t a disappointment.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” I shrugged, deciding that if she’d expected what I think she expected; I was glad I was a big fucking surprise.

“Oh; yeah, totally!” Max nodded in agreement; clearly getting exactly what train of thought I was riding on, and deciding I was the polar opposite of it.

“I mean; I just can’t quite believe it...” She continued; her face a mixture of awe and disbelief as we continued to work on our barricade. “You seem so cool, and Billy’s a—“

“Total dick.” I finished off the sentence for her, not at all surprised that find Billy’s own sibling thought he was a douchebag.

Maybe I really was the first to see a different side to him.

“Hey; you said it, not me.” She held up her arms in surrender, as if she was worried the shadow of Billy would fall over her at any given minute.

But still; it wasn’t denial.

Then we both started laughing, because sometimes it was so damn refreshing to spend some time around another woman; budding as she may be, and I began to think maybe I should introduce her to El.

Of course; that would open a whole new can of worms with dad’s trust issues and secrecy laws.

“Hey; but aren’t you and Billy supposed to be...” She halted our laughing, creasing her red eyebrows in confusion.

So Billy did talk about me.

That, or maybe we were louder than I thought; in which case, I probably owed this kid an apology.

And some ear plugs.

I shook my head in refusal, trying my best to keep from smiling, because dick or not; thinking of Billy made me a little giddy.

“No. Nothing serious; we’re just...”

“Oh my god! You are!” She exclaimed; and I was becoming very aware that Steve could be back at any minute.

“We’re not even dating...” I continued to explain, but kids heard what they wanted to hear, and this one wanted some sort of decent payoff for putting up with a shitstain of a brother.

“You are far too cool for my brother; Lola Hopper.” Max praised, and somehow, her brand of hero worship was one I didn’t really mind.

“Hey; are those shitbirds helping you?” An uncharacteristically severe voice of one Steve Harrington interrupted our female bonding; the man in question coming into view with two folding chairs in hand.

“Steve; really, we’re fine...” I began to excuse, really not finding the idea of playing troop leader for a misfit troop of Boy Scouts appealing, but Steve was already well on his way marching over to the car the boys were not so subtly hiding behind.

“Jesus; is he always like this?” Max asked, chuckling at a rather fatherly Steve Harrington, busy lecturing two rather somber looking surrogate sons; completed with a complimentary hand on hip and finger waggle, as if he couldn’t take the metaphor far enough.

“You know; believe it or not, he’s actually pretty chilled normally.” I commented, smiling at how the boys suddenly started working double time under their “dad’s” direct supervision.

Daddy Steve.

Jesus; what a joke!

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