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venusjaynie · 10 months

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Patch Me Up

Billy Hargrove x fem!reader

summary: Billy, your (secret) boyfriend, shows up at your house (which is really Steve's house) after a bad fight with Neil, and Steve has never been more confused.

CW: hurt/comfort, minor injury detail, mentions of abuse (it's very brief!!), lots of fluff, billy is probably OOC but I do not care 🫶🫶, Steve wants to put his and Billy's differences aside for your sake.

Word count: 2k

2:45am

Someone's at the door. They knock once, and you don't make a move to answer. But then the bell rings, and they knock again so, with a groan, you get out of bed and walk past Steve's room to see if he's still asleep, or if he was also woken up by the disturbance from downstairs. Luckily, he's asleep.

You make your way down the stairs of the house and, for safety, you grab Steve's nail bat from its place beside the front door. Slowly, you unlock the door and open it just enough so that you can see whoever is on the other side of it.

It's Billy.

You open the door fully and drop the bat as quietly as you can. Billy looks like he's been dragged to hell and back, to put it simply. For a second, you're confused as to why he's here at 2:45 on a Wednesday morning, but his eyes shine with unshed tears, and the big red mark on his cheek speaks for itself.

"Hey, pretty girl, mind letting me in? I'm dying out here." You nod and step out of the way with nothing but worry for him casting over your features. You notice that he's limping a little, but you don't mention it.

"God, Billy, what the hell happened to you?" You know it was Neil, but Billy had insisted that things with his dad were getting better. He laughs half-heartedly, not meeting your eye.

"I, uh, let Max go over to the Byers to stay over with her friend Ellie or El, or something, 'cause Neil and Susan were supposed to go away for a few nights. But they ended up coming home early, and when he found out he told me to go pick her up. But I told him I didn't want to disturb Mrs byers, and he didn't take to that too kindly." He huffs out another humourless chuckle, but you can hear him choking up as he speaks.

"Oh, babe..." You start, but you're at a loss for words. You've seen Billy a few times after a bad run-in with his dad, but there's blood coming from his nose and he's cradling his right elbow in his hand, and not to mention his left eye is swelling slightly. "C'mere, let me clean you up a bit."

As you go to take Billy's hand to lead him to the downstairs bathroom you can hear Steve's floorboards creak just above you, and his footsteps echo through the hall upstairs.

"Hello?" Steve calls out from the top of the stairs.

"Hey, Stevie, it's just me." You reply.

"Who were you talking to?" You can hear him making his way down the stairs. "Hargrove? Is that you?"

"Don't get too excited, Harrington." Steve rolls his eyes at Billy's sarcasm.

"Why are you in my house, man? What-" He stops himself as he reaches the bottom of the stairs and can see Billy's face in the light, letting out a soft 'oh'.

Neither of them speak for a moment or two, and you take that as your cue to get back to the previous task as hand.

"Billy, let's get you fixed up." He nods silently and follows you to the bathroom. You tell him to sit down on the lid of the toilet, and you open the cupboard under the sink to grab the first aid kit. You rummage around a bit, until you remember that Steve took it last week after Will had fallen off his bike and gashed a pretty nasty cut into his knee.

“I need to run to the living room to grab the first aid kit, okay?” You ask gently, already heading toward the door, but Billy grabs your hand before you can go any further.

“No, please don’t leave.”

“Baby, it’s only for a second. I’ll be right back.” He shakes his head.

“Can’t you just yell for Harrington to get it? I just don’t think I can be alone right now.” He speaks so quietly, more so than you’ve ever heard him do before, and there's something about the rawness and honesty in his eyes that makes you never want to leave him alone again.

“Steve?” You shout, feeling bad about disturbing your friend again.

“Yeah? What’s up?” He quickly walks back down the stairs and comes into view as he stands in the doorframe of the bathroom.

“Could you grab the first aid kit from the living room, please?” He nods without a word, and emerges a few minutes later with the little, green plastic box.

“Thank you. Sorry for waking you up, you can go back to bed now. promise we won’t disturb you again.” Steve just laughs lightly and shakes his head.

“Nah, I’m up now. No chance of me getting back to sleep for at least 2 hours. Might as well do something useful with my time.” He heads in the direction of the kitchen, and you close the door of the bathroom behind him.

Walking back over to billy, who is sat silently on the counter of the bathroom, you’re able to truly take in how beaten up he looks. His left eye is swelling more and more, and the red mark on his cheek has almost turned purple.

“Oh, Billy.” You slowly reach out to touch his face, but he flinches back slightly at the notion of your hand coming into contact with his cheek.

"Shit- sorry." He apologises quickly and takes your outstretched hand in his.

"You don't have to be sorry, it's not your fault." You give his hand a reassuring squeeze and get to patching him up. You clean up his bloody nose, which he scrunches up when the alcohol rub you use on his cheek stings a bit, and you apologise quietly. You find a bandage and you fashion a make-shift sling. It's definitely nothing special, but it's better than letting his arm hang free without support.

You catch sight of the shift in his features when he goes to adjust his position on the counter. His hand shoots up to hold onto his chest, and you immediately worry for the state of his bones and internal organs.

"Billy?" He looks up at you. "Can you take your shirt off?" He smirks.

"You tryna get me naked? Could've just said so, baby." He laughs under his breath, and despite the situation, you crack a small smile. He removes his shirt, and you can't help the short intake of breathe of breath that you take. The skin on Billy's chest is red and blue and black and purple and the more you examine it the worse it looks. It's horrible.

"Oh my god." You breathe. You look through the first aid kit for some kind of oil or ointment that you could use to treat the discolouring on his chest, but it was to no avail. "I don't think I have anything that can help that. I'm sorry, Billy. I'm so sorry." You aren't really apologising for your lack of treatment products. You're apologising because this is real. He has to live life like this, and there's nothing you can do about it.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. It's not your fault. You didn't know I was coming, yeah?" You nod. "And besides, you've done more than enough, sweetheart. More than you ever needed to, alright? I'm okay, I swear." You know he's lying. He's not okay. But for once, you choose to not argue back. You honestly don't have the strength.

The rest of his casualties aren't your forte, unfortunately. Bruises and a potentially sprained ankle- which he promises 'isn't even that bad'- aren't things that you can tend to, but you think some ice to his ankle will do him some good, and maybe provide some pain relief.

"Hey, Billy, let's go to the living room, 'kay?" He nods, and stands up, and you put your arm around his waist to support him. He kisses your temple and starts to limp out of the bathroom to make his way to the living room.

Steve is sitting on the sofa when you enter with Billy, and he makes a move to leave.

"I'll give you guys some privacy." He nods at Billy as he leaves, and you truthfully don't want him to go. He's your best friend, and you could use some grounding after what you've done tonight. You don't say anything in protest to his statement though, however, Billy does.

"Harrington? If you wanna stay down here, I don't mind, really." Billy looks almost as shocked as you do, as if he doesn't register what he's saying until the words have already flown out of his mouth and he can't take them back.

"Oh, uh, okay. You sure, man?" Steve makes a move to re-enter the living room.

"Don't make me change my mind, dude." Steve laughs lightly as Billy's answer, and walks back into the living room, closely followed by you and Billy.

You sit down on the couch, Billy following you, and Steve takes his previous seat. You have to admit, it's a little awkward at first. You're the one making conversation and trying to tie them both in, but it's difficult, what with knowing about their past rivalry and all.

You sigh, before saying,

"Alright look, I know you two have your differences, but I'm just as uncomfortable as you both. So, if we're gonna sit here tonight, is there any chance you could just make up? For my sake at least?"

It's a while before either of them speak, and to no one's surprise, it's Steve.

"Yes, yeah okay. I think I can do that."

"Thank you." You smile at him, and wait hopefully for Billy to agree too.

"Fine." He mumbles after a few minutes. You know you won't get much more out of him than that, so you're just glad he cooperated.

"Thanks, Billy." He nods, not saying anything more. "I'm gonna get you some ice for your ankle." Another nod, this time accompanied by a smile.

You leave the room, cringing internally at the thought of leaving Billy alone with Steve. You just hope they can put their differences aside, because it would make your situation a hell of a lot less difficult.

After retrieving the ice from the bottom drawer of the freezer, which took a great deal of effort because you had to clear out the contents of the drawer and then fit it all back in, you head back to living room, silently praying the 2 boys haven't killed each other in your absence. However, as you walk to the door, you hear them before you see them. Billy's laughing, and so is Steve. 'What the hell?' you think to yourself, bemused to say the least.

"Jesus, Harrington, that's fucking hilarious. You know, you're better company than I thought."

"What's gotten into you two, huh?" You chuckle as you saunter in and retake your seat, leaning forward to set the ice on the coffee table, and then prop Billy's ankle on the bag.

"Nothin', sweetheart. This guy's not too bad to have around. He's funnier than I remember." As you lean back against the sofa, Billy stretches his good arm around your shoulders, and you settle against him.

"It's good that the two of you are getting along, for my sake, anyway." Billy doesn't say much, but hums in acknowledgement, while Steve just nods.

It's quiet for a little while longer, until Steve clears his throat somewhat awkwardly.

"Uh, Hargrove- Billy, even- fuck, that feels weird. Yeah, anyway, um, if you ever need a place to stay whenever, you know, this happens, you can always come here." Steve doesn't look at Billy when he talks, but if he did he'd see the way Billy's eyes soften ever so slightly, the way his shoulders relax into the plush couch behind him, the way his eyes go a little glossy.

"Thanks, Steve." Billy replies, before continuing with, "Yeah, that feels weird as shit, man." earning a laugh from both you and Steve.

After a moment, Billy yawns, and his eyes look droopier than they did a minute ago, so you decide now would be a good time for the two of you to head to bed.

"Alright, Stevie, we're gonna head to bed." You stand up, helping Billy do the same.

"Me too." Steve follows in suit, standing and stretching his arms over his head. The three of you head toward the stairs, with Steve behind you and Billy to make sure he can help if the latter falls.

As you're climbing the stairs, however, Steve has something on his mind.

"Hey, kid, any chance you're making pancakes tomorrow morning?" You turn around to face Steve and you don't think you've ever seen him look more hopeful in your life. "Billy, I swear to God, she makes the best pancakes in the world."

Billy smiles and says, "Well, sweetheart, I gotta try 'em. I'm somewhat of a pancake connoisseur, if you will." You roll your eyes.

"Ugh, fine. Yes, Steve, I will make my famous pancakes." You say, and you swear Steve looks like he could jump for joy. "But, you have to make spaghetti tomorrow night."

"Done."

When you reach the top of you stairs, you bid Steve goodnight, and make your way back to your room, but this time with Billy in tow, and you tell him to sit on the bed. Grabbing him one of his shirts that you stole a month ago, you help him out of his other one, careful not to disturb the fine bandaging you had previously carried out on his arm, and you gently pull the new one over his head, guiding his arms through it too. He opts for no pants, just boxers, and you're too tired to object, not that you mind either way, and the two of you lie back in your bed.

"Thanks for takin' care of me." Billy mumbled into your hair.

"Thanks for letting me." You reply, making Billy smile. And for the first time in a long while, Billy sleeps.

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