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alias-b · 4 years

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Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me

California, 1992. Billy Hargrove and Camille Harper built their future in an endless, red hot summer. Everything changes with a splash of pale blue. Billy x OC! Camille Harper

A/N: The baby one shot I promised everyone! Occurs after my fic, "Without The Lights." Warning, I get into the not pretty side of pregnancy and Camille struggles with her illness. Sexual content. TW: graphic description of birth and postpartum depression. Mention of death and past torture. Cross posted here on AO3

1992

She’d been late.

Camille Harper was never late to anything.

Then, she’d taken ill. Scents that used to thrill her in the morning like fresh coffee, fluffed pancakes, and scrambled eggs sent her scurrying into the bathroom.

Billy looked up from his desk, covered in different lead pencils and scattering papers. Grotesque concept art for an upcoming horror film he’d been working on. Still pretty as a picture. Less of a baby in the face, but still just as sweet. Sprinkle of facial hair and lashes for days.

“Ugh, so much for sleeping in Saturday.” Camille gargled mouthwash, spat, and wandered out. Brown hair grown out and piled up in a bun. Billy’s arm snaked around her hips, bringing her into his side. A temple pressed into her nightgown. “I don’t want to get you sick.”

The back of his knuckle drew along her forehead. Cool metal of his wedding ring chilled.

“No fever. You probably ate something last night, I told you the shrimp was a bad idea.”

The very word ‘shrimp’ almost made her hurl again.

“We’re not trying that place again.” Camille kissed the top of his head. Curls longer like a rockstar around his shoulders. “I have a new case to prepare for the office Monday.”

“Boy or girl?” Billy set his pencil down and watched her plop into the couch.

“Girl.” Camille frowned, rubbing her head. “She’s got a wall up, this one. Office likes me so her case is mine. Arthur thinks it’s a good match, but I’m actually nervous.”

“Arthur this and that.” Came a scoff. “School buddies who ended up at the same office. Pshh.”

“Arthur is taken now and quite happy.”

“Who swept him off his perfect feet so he’ll quit bothering my wife?”

“Lovely man named Stanley.” Camille laughed when Billy gave a double take. “Went drinking together while you played with latex masks last Thursday.”

“It was crunch time. I’m sure your new case will be fine. Brilliant Dr. Harper. Blazing through all that schooling and study abroad. Almost in the clear.” Billy mused, switching his light off. “We’ll see if they like this new design I got. Tea?”

“Yes, please.” Camille slid down the couch, pulled a fuzzy blanket into her body while Billy went into the kitchen. Cozy apartment they could afford. Walls covered in memories. Photos and degrees. She clicked the remote and settled on a light movie. Look Who’s Talking.

A campy opening of sperm headed toward a dropped egg after a mini love scene with Kirstie Alley. Camille sighed, rubbing her head before something clicked the same moment hot water howled from the tea pot in the kitchen.

“Oh, shit.” She shot up. Blinked. “No way.” They hadn't exactly been trying. But, they hadn't not been trying.

“Getting your Travolta fix?” Billy set a mug down and Camille blinked at him.

“Ah, yeah.” She shot up. “I just remembered...I was supposed to hit the drug store. We’re out of...everything.”

“Everything? I’ll drive you to the store.” Billy chuckled.

“No, it’s just around the corner, I need the walk. Fresh air. No shrimp.” Camille skidding around him to toss clothing on their bed. Dressing in jeans and a tee. “Keep working. Need anything?”

“I’d kill for a Milky Way.” He shrugged, plopping back into his seat. Camille was hopping around to put some shoes on. Sun from outside caught his face and she pressed her lips, kissing his cheek.

“I’ll bring you something sweet.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Camille nearly jogged down the steps from the fourth floor. Grabbed a basket when she got to the mini-mart and tossed randoms items they needed in. Billy’s candy included. Stopped in a section that made her cold.

Pregnancy tests.

“Jeez.” She mulled over boxes before snatching one.

Ignored the idle way the clerk peered at her stomach when he rang it up. Christ. California sun and wind swept against her body. Usually it set her at ease, but a ball of nerves sank into her stomach when she took the elevator back up. Billy was on the couch now, looking up as she tossed the candy into his lap.

“You okay?”

“Feeling sick again.” Camille half lied and went into the bathroom. Locked the door. Stared at the clear plastic curtain as she peed on a stick. Washed her hands and pulled at her watch. It ticked slower to spite her.

“Camille?” Billy knocked. “Something’s up.”

“Ah, just a second,” she paced, “give me just another second.”

“Let me help.”

“Oh, believe me...you did.” She sat on the side of the tub. Stared at the colored tiles. So many to count. Billy exhaled on the other side of the door. Didn’t leave. “Billy, I’ll be fine.” Her own tone shook.

Did she want this?

Were they ready?

How was she going to feel if it’s nothing?

How was she going to feel it it’s blue?

Camille didn’t have time to think through each possible dream because reality spoke for her.

Blue. Crystal clear sky.

“Camille.” Billy jimmied the lock until the door popped open. She looked up in tears.

“...Is that?”

“Blue.” She breathed with one fist curled to her chest. Burst into tears. Unable to tell if they were happy or sad. She just needed to cry. Billy swept toward her.

“Hey, hey. I got you.” Billy kissed her cheeks until she was soothed. Held her there while she clung to his shoulders.

“It’s blue.”

“What’s...that mean?” Billy met her eyes. “You’re...”

“Blue.” Camille said again. Licking her lips before they pressed. “I’m pregnant.”

“We’re having a baby?” Billy blinked at her. She waited for him to panic. But, he smiled. So bright that it made her burn with jealousy to be confused about it. “We’re having a baby!”

Billy grabbed his wife. Held her close to him. Settled Camille just a little, she tried to feed off his glow.

“Ninety nine percent accuracy. We need to, ah, go to a doctor first.” She let Billy pull her up. Out into the living room.

Why was she riddled with confusion and anxiety while he bubbled with excitement? He danced her around to no music like a true romantic.

“Let’s not...say anything until we go. I’ll make an appointment. After my meeting Monday?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He swept hair aside and smiled again, so youthful. Kissed her there in the sun. Meanwhile, she felt life being sucked into a swirling pit. Billy tugged Camille into the couch, nestled her into his chest. “Are...Are you happy?”

“I’m… Blue “...something.”

** ** **

It was real. Confirmation at the doctor and life turned in on itself. People were careful with her. Work tried to withhold cases she’d fought for.

She had a woman’s condition. They treated Camille like it was fatal.

“Jim? Are you still there?”

A thud on the other end was followed by scrambling.

“Camille?” Joyce had the phone now. “Jim, get up.”

Camille laughed that time.

“Your father’s fine, just shocked. Oh, Jim, stop being dramatic!” Came some bickering.

“I’m going to be a grandpa!” There was more laughter on their end.

“Can you two stop kissing in my ear already?” Camille twirled the cord and stretched her legs out into Billy’s lap. Let him massage her ankles. “We wanted to know...if you guys would come down for the birth. Should be early November, I’m due.”

Billy started counting something on his fingers, earning a soft kick.

“Max and El already freaked. Letting them follow me to UCLA was such a mistake.” Camille joked. Mike and Lucas in Washington. Will and Dustin following Nancy and Jonathan to New York. Steve, Heather, and Robin living blissfully in Chicago. Rumor had it Regan and Kali turned up there too.

“You’re listening to the doctors, right?” Jim turned stern. Such a dad.

“You know it,” Camille brought the phone away, “Billy, you want to pass me a beer?” He just snorted.

“Hey, none of that.” Jim was in her ear. “We’ll fly over now.”

“No need. We’re fine. We’ll figure things out when it gets closer, yeah? Telling work was mortifying enough. But, we got the leave figured out. Arthur’s been such a help. Don’t worry about anything.” Camille sighed when Billy’s hands worked up her legs. Had to slap him out of her skirt.

“Congrats, Camille! Billy, you tell Susan?” Joyce stole the phone.

“We heard her crying from over here. Same with Grace. She and Elliott choked him near to death. Billy also tells me that Miss Mayfield was set up with a certain middle school teacher, how the hell did that happen?”

“Mr. Clarke can be quite charming,” Joyce chirped and a groan erupted from Jim, “passes Susan’s little boutique on the drive to the school every day. Started stopping in. Flirting in his way. I couldn’t tell you.”

“Glad Rosemary’s former team was willing to do us some favors and help her out with that.” Camille was still squirming away from Billy’s advances. His lips on her neck. “Well, I should go. But, any and all advice is wanted.”

“She already tore through all the mommy books in the library. Ignore her.” Billy stole the phone. “Hops. Can I call you Pops now?”

“If I can call you, dead.” Jim smiled when Joyce swatted his chest.

“I expect you to spoil my kid.”

“Will do. Make sure Camille takes it easy.”

“Oh, I will.” Billy said goodbyes and pushed his hips into Camille’s, a sigh followed.

“Hate you.” She settled her arms around his neck. A long kiss followed.

“Valentine’s Day.”

“Hm?” She went for his neck and jaw. Immersed in him.

“By my count, we made her Valentine’s Day. Wonder if it was the car or the counter or the couch or the bed?”

“I hate you...and it could have been the floor too.” She chuckled into his skin. Kissed him fiercely. The phone rang again. Billy reached over to snatch it.

“Hargrove.” He let Camille paw at him. Twirling his hair about. Worshiping him with starry eyes. Billy’s own eyes opened and he pushed up with Camille still attached to him. “Why are you calling, I’ve told you-?”

Camille let him go immediately. Saw the cold way he went rigid.

“What?” Billy sounded breathless. “I...”

“Billy?” Camille touched his face when his eyes welled.

“Fine, just don’t call here again.” The phone slammed and he was up. Pacing. Rubbing his eyes.

“Billy, who was that?” Camille hurried after him. Tried to tug at his arms but he slipped off.

“Just...give me a second.” He didn’t make it into their room. Collapsed to the floor and covered his face.

“Billy!” She gathered her husband into her chest. He just sobbed. “Billy, who was that?”

“...Neil. He's been trying to call.”

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“I didn’t want to freak you out. I kept hanging up. I was terrified you’d pick up and he’d...” Billy sniffled. Clung to her. Cried more. Camille petted curls helplessly. Kissed blond hair and soft cheeks all better. “He’s sick.”

“What?”

“He’s dying. Cancer. Not the kind you get better from.” Billy lifted. “Don’t know why I’m crying about it, I’ll be glad he’s… He asked to see me. How can he fuck up my life and then just…?”

Disappear.

“Where is he?”

“Colorado.” Billy wiped his eyes. “Fuck him.”

“Do you...want to go?”

Billy thought of Neil with his skin sunken and yellow. No longer handsome. Rasping at him from a mattress. Pissing himself. Dying alone in a cold bed like his father before him. He turned to Camille and cupped her stomach.

“No, I don’t.” A long kiss into her abdomen. “I want to hold our baby. Take her to the park. Make her feel safe. I promise I’ll never...” He stopped. Blinked several times. I’ll never be like Neil. Nuzzled into Camille’s neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She let Billy’s broad body sink into her. Brought him to bed where they could wrap each other up. Feverish and dizzy until he pushed inside her. Melted their mouths. Gasped into her neck. Succumbed to the sweltering heat. He sought comfort and burrowed under her skin. Pushed fingers between thighs. Fucked her into the mattress while they reached peaks.

Hours later, Camille heard Billy get up, thinking she’d fallen into slumber. Came to the door to listen.

“Hey...” He said into the phone. Whispering. “No, you listen. I’m not… I don’t want to see you. I’ll just remember you healthy. Able enough to give hard lessons. I just...wanted to call and say Camille and I are having a baby… I think it’s a girl.”

There was silence for a few beats.

“We’re going to name her Sara and she won’t be learning hard lessons. She won’t be afraid of me like I...” Billy paused.

Life flashed these vivid images of his childhood. His mother’s bracelet scattering across the pavement. That one moment Neil let him cling.

“You ever think things could have been different for us, you know, after mom? I do. A lot. But, I can’t live in that… You beat the shit out of me. You hurt my wife. You hurt Susan and she’s still trying to move on. Max’s hair is all grown out and she won’t let anyone touch it. You won’t hurt my daughter. But, I’ll tell her about you. Tell her she had a grandfather who made bad choices and ended up…”

“...Yeah, I think she’ll get the Hargrove jaw too.” Billy softened, lifted his eyes to the starlight beyond the window. Wondered if Neil was looking too. “I’ll tell her your name. Not much else. Hardest lesson I learned was realizing I’m not going to be like you. I’m sorry you wasted your life, I’m not going to. I’m going to be a good dad. I...just wanted to tell you that. That I'm in love still and I’m going to be a great father to my little girl. I’m going to keep her safe in this world. Goodbye, dad... We loved each other once.”

Billy hung up. Curled into a ball to cry silently. Camille inched out until his head lifted. Arms came up to accept her there.

“Shhh, I got you.” She tucked Billy’s head under her chin. “I’m so proud of you. You’re going to be an amazing daddy. I’m so lucky you’re mine. We’re going to be okay.”

“God, I’m supposed to be holding you.” He chuckled at himself and Camille beamed.

“We’ve got each other.”

Neil Hargrove died in his sleep late April of 1992. Alone in a cold bed.

** ** **

Camille’s belly turned into a mini planet Billy couldn’t stop kissing. Dealt with some fiery stares when he made comments about her swelling breasts. It was true, tired all the same, she glowed. Billy fed her odd cravings. Made her feel as sexy as he could until she was climbing atop him. Riding him because she needed it now and bad. He liked that part.

A million baby books later, Billy became an annoying infant factoid machine.

"Did you know if-?"

"Billy," Camille groaned into the couch, "I want Thai food again."

"I swear to god, Camille, our kid is going to come out trying to order a pad see ew, extra spicy."

"...Two orders please."

Billy was weak. He ordered her three to last her.

Elliott, now eleven years old, took to painting seashells and starfish along her belly when she was stuck on the couch. Billy’s excitement never stilled. Only illuminated. So willing to learn this all. They cleared spaced. Decorated a little nursery all under the sea themed. Camille was more riddled with anxiety. Always steadying her breath. Talking to the little life inside her. Constant gifts and advice from friends helped from time to time.

“Billy!” Elliott jumped up when he came home. “Think I could work in movies like you?”

Camille was giggling. Hard. Her shirt pulled over her stomach painted with the shark from Jaws.

“Guess what we watched?”

“It wasn’t even scary.” Elliott crossed his arms, ruffling waves of brunette hair. “That was kid stuff.”

“Think so,” Billy swept him up, growling for effect. Baring teeth like a shark. Earned a giggle.

“She cried again at a TV commercial.” Elliott whispered and Billy snickered.

“I'm allowed to have emotions, you two. Roger is going to be here any minute.” Camille pushed up. “Who wants ice cream?”

“Mint chip?” Elliott followed after her.

“You know it, kid.” She braced one hand on her back and the other around his shoulders. Billy shook his head and dropped a bag on his desk. Water ran as Camille washed her belly off and Elliott pulled out a pint of ice cream with two spoons. “Your big brother doesn’t have our sophisticated taste in ice cream.”

They shared a few bites over the counter. Camille groaned a little and pressed a spot on her stomach.

“You’re doing that a lot, sissy.” The affectionate name he’d picked up when he was little never left. Camille felt a cramp well like a great wave.

“Just my girl dancing around. Picking fights with my organs. She’s definitely going to be like her daddy. Want to feel?”

Elliott smiled his toothiest grin and reached out. Let Camille press his hand to her side.

“Spicy food and mint ice cream is all I want these days.”

“My mom said she liked mac and cheese with tomatoes with me.” He gasped, feeling the baby. “She high-fived me!”

“Billy kissed my stomach once and got a swift kick.” Camille snickered, scooping more ice cream to enjoy. Billy paced in, pecking her cheek before he stole a spoon and the strawberry pint in the freezer.

“All mine.” He shrugged, eating. Camille hunched, moaning a few minutes later. “Camille, you sure you’re okay?”

“It’s just minor...cramps. I’m fine. She’s not coming out for another two weeks.” Camille licked her spoon.

“She’s been doing it all day. Like this...Oohh...” Elliott mirror a motion with his hand on his back and the other on his stomach. Billy raised his brow.

“They’re far, far apart.” Camille turned to the ice cream and felt a pop. A gush of fluid like she’d peed herself. Billy’s spoon clattered.

“Sissy?” Elliott took her hand because he was closest. “Cami, what’s happening?” Billy was at his wife’s side, holding her.

“Her water broke.”

** ** **

A million phone calls later and Camille was whimpering, pacing around a bed. Wobbling side to side. Bracing her hands to groan. She decided on a birthing center and midwife over a hospital. Place looked more like a hotel and had a hot tub for those births. Cozy space all for them.

Billy held a lot of jokes back.

“The baby book’s-”

“Fuck the baby books!” Camille’s red face lifted. A demonic edge to her voice and even Billy backed up. “Photographic memory is worth shit!” He edged off. “Sorry, I’m...oh! I want drugs. I want my midwife! I want Thai food... It’s early!”

“She’s on the way now. Jim and Joyce were on a plane an hour ago. Max is driving El here. Just breathe.”

“Fuck my breathing!” She sounded truly possessed. Grabbing at Billy over the bed with some crazy burst of pregnancy strength. “I want drugs… What if she comes out hurt because it’s early. Or like me?”

“She’s fine. Hey...” Billy pried her hand from his shirt and crossed around. “She’s going to be perfect.” He held her. Placed a kiss into hair. Camille’s face was blushed and beading with sweat. Limbs shook as she braced into the bed.

“Camille!” A woman who could have bench pressed Billy hurried in. “Oh, poor girl. Keep breathing like I taught you.”

“Ellen.” Camille winced. The girls were on a first name basis. Ellen was a former body builder and wrestler turned midwife. Lost some kids of her own and swore to help other girls keep their babies. “I can’t. I can’t.”

“Might want to go get some ice chips, Bill.” She turned to him looking frantic and reeling it in. “Two cups.”

“For her?”

“For both of you. You’re in for a long night.”

Billy scrambled. Passed the waiting room where Roger and Elliot sat for Grace and the rest of the family to arrive after driving the crying girl in.

Hours of groaning and wailing. Women in other rooms joined in like a chorus of cries and soft birthing songs. Billy joked they were calling out to each other. Solidarity for the pain women were created to endure.

“Camille, honey, you have to get up like this. Just like we practiced.”

“I can’t,” she only moaned, shaking her head back and forth.

“Daddy, she needs you. We’re almost there, I’ll be back in with assistance. She has to get into position.” Ellen continued, lighting a fire under Billy while he paced. The midwife jogged out into the hallway where more women vocalized together. Called out to ensure none felt alone in this.

“Something’s wrong, she’s gonna come out like me.” The girl sounded delirious. Billy cupped Camille face, watched her eyes dart over his welling expression. “She’s gonna tear a part of me out and I can’t stop her.”

“I want her to be like you.” Billy admitted.

“Don’t say that.” A hand pulled for his shirt. Camille twitched with anger at him. “Don’t say that again!”

“No, I hope she’s exactly like you and she’ll have parents who love her. We’ll teach her never to force a smile. That perfection is bullshit. I hope she’s like you, I have this entire time.”

“The world’s going to swallow her.”

“We won’t let that happen.” Billy smiled because he was so certain about that.

“She’ll be in pain.”

“And we’ll see her through that too. Pain happens. Means we're here sometimes. Means we're strong enough to fight through it and she won't be alone. You gotta get up, she needs you.”

“Camille!” Another voice at the door.

“Dad. Jim, you’re here.” She wheezed when Jim came to her with Joyce’s hand in his. Sprinkles of grey in his hair. Joyce pulled her brown locks back into a ponytail.

“Hey, sweetheart, we’re all here for you.” She came around the bed. “Max and El want to come in, we got them to stay with the others. Just breathe, you’re almost there.”

“How’re you holding up, punk?” Jim clapped Billy on the shoulder, earning a chuckle.

“Just barely, Hops. Lots of ice chips.”

“I swear by those, you might want more.”

“She’s crushing my hand.” Billy lifted his near white palm. Camille’s digging fingers into his skin.

“He did this to me,” Camille hissed. Another bout. Another groan that tore the room. Ellen was back at her side.

“Camille, come up now, that’s my girl.”

A growl ripped violently.

Like a werewolf mid transformation.

Camille huffed and got to her hands and knees. Thought to rip her flesh away and reveal fur and muscle hiding underneath. Teeth growing and sharp to stark points while her veins darkened.

She could have torn through a forest. Howled at the moon. One last time.

It glowed bright before her. Speckled with stars.

She counted them to herself.

“Hold on, here.” Ellen guided stirrups higher so she could grip them. Had her squatting on the bed. “Breathe.” The thin cotton of the gown was damp. Hanging from one shoulder. She growled and tore it open down the front. Veins pulsing and pushing. No drugs. Just a body built for agony. Miles of it. Nude and feral.

Camille screamed at the moon this time. For gawking. Grabbed at Billy again while he helped brace her into position.

She howled and other women howled back. A great echo into the unknown. Into the dark night. Wolves in a pack itching to run through wind and rustling trees. Feral bodies that were so often controlled by weaker beings. Free and shameless.

Women were not always soft, they were hard edges of steel slicing skin to pieces. Teeth gnashing muscle and bone apart. Hot irons of a beating heart within a hollowed chest cavity. Camille led a brigade with her.

“Big push now!” Came the command.

Camille tossed her head back and roared. Succumbed to the flames and blood lust. Thought her bones would break and shift so she could become the beast. Bring the world to its knees.

Ellen reached down, head lifting.

“Camille, it’s time. Another big push for me.”

Camille only braced herself. Bones chattering. Words echoed with encouragement from her family. From Billy as he held onto her. Ellen repeated herself from the right.

“Ahhh!” Vocal cords vibrated and almost ripped apart. Teeth baring. A gasp when it reeled back. Sweat and blood dribbled down Camille’s quivering thighs.

“Almost, sweetheart, almost. Keep pushing for us.”

“I can’t, I can’t.” Came the chants. Jim thought to step forward as he watched her spine press out into skin, but Billy sprang into action.

“You can do this.” He kissed her temple. “You can.”

“I’m not ready, I can’t.” Camille cried so hard. Looked out at the sky.

It was all blue.

“Camille,” Billy murmured into her hair, “I love you. You can do this.”

The stars glowed brighter beyond the window. She longed to reach out and catch one.

“They’re singing to me.” She whispered more so to herself. Lips opening to howl and sing with them. The women echoing her calls. The stars waiting beyond the veil.

She waited for fur to ripple her skin. For claws to grow long and sharp.

“That’s it, Camille, push!” Ellen took one hand, guided it down to feel something warm and wet. Camille screamed and they helped her stay upright when something stronger and more youthful than her tore from a body built of steel and stardust. “Take your baby. She’s here. Cradle the head.”

Camille was sobbing as she pulled a tiny mass to her bare chest. A fallen star she managed to grasp. It echoed her screams. More powerful and beet red. Slicked with blood and fluids.

Unable to stay upright, she was guided back with Ellen and Billy’s help. Looked almost wild in the starlight. Bloodied and nude with her cub cradled close.

The baby wailed over Camille until she quieted in a daze. It overcame her with so much ease. Felt like she was slipping into a warm bath. Endless pools. Unbothered by her nudity there in the wash of moon.

“Look at her,” Billy gasped through tears. Kissed Camille’s cheek again. “I’m so proud of you, you did it. She’s beautiful.”

She half expected him to say, my, my, what big eyes you have.

“Congratulations, mommy and daddy.” Ellen was ushering her assistant around.

Camille didn’t look down. Couldn’t. Not at this little pup that ripped from her. That howled with her at the moon. This beating heart she would nurture and teach to glow all neon and red. The baby felt its mother’s heart beating under her little head and made it her first lullaby. Camille felt for a moment, that she had no more life in her. No more fight to tear through the woods leading a pack of wailing women.

“Let’s get her cleaned up.” Ellen pulled the whimpering infant away to tend to her. Camille sat sprawled there half naked with one leg hanging over the side. Her own fluids in a puddle beneath her. Warm and oddly comforting. Billy and the assistant worked to maneuver her into another mattress so the dirtied one could be rolled off.

“Camille?” Billy cupped her face there against a plush pillow. Covered her body. “Hey.”

“She’s just a little dazed.” Joyce was smoothing brown hair back. Hopper’s hand on her shoulder. “You did so good, honey.”

Ellen pushed a peach bundle back into Camille’s arms without asking. Helped her cradle the head as she propped herself up into the pillows. Hazel eyes lowered to see her daughter at last.

Bright, crystalline eyes. A full head of dark hair already. Blinking and still at her mother. Billy leaned into Camille’s shoulder with a tired grin. Fingers grazed his baby’s cheek. Lips lowered to feel the tufts of hair, to inhale the scent of new life. The urge to cry overshadowed her smile.

“Sara Anne Hargrove, welcome to the world.” Billy said. “Halloween birthday, I’m jealous.” Glowing with vitality Camille didn’t feel as he spoke.

She heard the other women crying out and mourned that she no longer had the strength to roar with them.

** ** **

“She’s so tiny.” El glittered, cradling the baby with Jim’s help.

“She makes that same squinty face Billy does, look.” Max joked. Both girls as tall as Camille. So grown up and out into this big world. Jim crossed to see Camille when Billy went into the hallway to sign some papers.

“You okay, kid?” He tucked a strand of hair away. She stared beyond him at the moon.

“I never asked you if it was okay. Her name.”

“I think it’s perfect.” Jim smiled and Camille pressed her lips at him. “Joyce and I will stick around if that’s okay. Help you get situated.”

“We’d appreciate that. Grace and Roger live a ways out.” Camille blinked, head back to see everyone fawning over the baby across the way.

“You okay?” Jim felt a great distance pool within his kid.

“I’m...” Blue. “A mother.”

** ** **

Sara wouldn’t latch.

It took extra help to get her to at the birthing center and Joyce assisted at home.

“Give her a second.” Billy tried to help. Tried.

“You want to do this?” Camille’s eyes snapped at him. He put his hands up in response.

“I’ll start dinner.” He slunk away into the kitchen where Jim was. Max and El left because they had class the next day. Grace promised to come up as much as she could after kissing Billy a million times. Phone calls and cards poured.

“Ah...” Camille wiggled in her seat. Perched on an extra pillow because everything below her waist was raw and padded. Her stomach went down slowly while her breasts ballooned. Sara suckled in her arms and Joyce only offered encouragement. “It hurts.”

“They never tell you that in the books.” Joyce sighed. “Jonathan gave me all sorts of trouble too. You’ll get the hang of it.” Camille winced and settled her head back against the couch. Felt like she was just waiting for it to be over. Everyone gushed about this amazing connection they would share and here she was just floating.

Maybe that was just something else to get the hang of.

** ** **

Camille started to have dreams. Maternity leave only made her restless. She cried when Billy packed her files away into the closet. He’d gotten the first month to stay with her while she’d gotten three.

And she wanted to go back.

Billy didn’t dare ask why the urge to see these kids over her daughter quelled.

So, Camille dreamed a lot on rare nights she got sleep.

Barely ate.

A white room with white sheets in a white bed. Camille in all white too. Doctors fussing as she bloodied the room with her mess. Her womanhood that was supposed to be kept in check. Sara crying. Screaming. Echoing.

One doctor pulling his mask down. Smiling wider than a circus clown. Brenner.

Camille tore up and screamed too until Billy started to shake her awake.

Only one week in and she’s unraveling with dark circles and a broken in body.

“Camille!” Billy just held her until she stopped.

“No, no, I have to check on her.” She ripped away from him. Scrambled into the other room to hover over the crib. Sara sleeping soundly and undisturbed. A sigh.

“Camille, come out, you’ll wake her.” Billy rubbed his eyes. She ignored him, felt around the window for a latch.

“You left it unlocked.”

“What?”

“I told you to lock it last night.” Camille’s neck twisted with a heated expression. Eyes glinting like an animal.

“She took awhile to sleep, I forgot,” he paused, “I’m sorry.”

“They could come in and take her. In the dark. Just like that.” She seethed in a struggle to keep her voice low. Billy gently pulled her from the room and shut the door.

“I’ll remember next time. Nothing can climb to the window.” He rubbed her shoulders. Only got pushed away as Camille checked the door. “Camille? Who...”

“Brenner!” She burst and covered her mouth. “If she’s like me, they’ll come take her in the night. In the dark. They’ll take her away and make her a number. You'll die and I'll be rocking in some hospital.”

“Brenner is dead. That won’t happen.” Billy realized her fears. Saw her eyes glimmer there. “That lab is dead, no one will come for her. She’s safe with us.” He sat her on the couch. Watched her quiver and hold herself. Head dropping. The baby monitor in their bedroom echoed a wheezy sound. “Come get back in bed, I got this one. You had her yesterday.” Billy sighed and tucked Camille in. Left.

“Hey, you...some set of lungs you got.” Billy’s voice spoke through the haze of static. “There you go. I mastered the art of the diaper, I think I-no, no, don’t pee on, daddy. You weren’t done.”

A giggle.

“Yeah, I’m your daddy, Sara. Bet you have some freckles coming in. My mom says I had mine young too.”

Camille pictured her husband at total peace. Seated in the rocking chair wagging his finger and smiling at their baby. Soothing her. It made her weep silently until she shoved a fistful of blankets into her mouth. Billy took to this life a duck to water.

And she…

She just fizzled and sunk. Dreamed of Brenner coming and Sara being torn away. Never knew what to say. What to do. Billy seemed to have it figured and that just made her feel behind and confused.

“You are my sunshine...my only sunshine...” Billy sang and Camille covered her face. Blocked her ears because it was too much. He returned ten minutes later to hold her. Kissed her hair and uttered the sweetest I love you because he felt so fulfilled and lucky.

Camille pretended to be asleep.

** ** **

Breastfeeding hurt still.

Second week. Camille never slept. Put on her brave face for family visits. But they saw it in her eyes. She sang to Sara and chatted with her. Changed her to perfection. Kissed her head. But, the connection. The emotions welled up like they were blocked in her throat.

Her body healed and only felt lifeless. Like she was a puppet controlled by another. Strings twisted all along her limbs to make her flop along a stage. Little clumsy ballerina. Going through the motions. She only cringed when the baby cried.

Sara needed her.

And it made her shrink.

She was mommy. Warm arms and shelter. A knowledge base that would mold their baby.

That suffocated. Billy smiled and cooed and Camille looked away. He just seemed so happy. She felt wrong.

Why didn’t that come for her too?

“Camille, look, look.” Billy was lying on the couch, lifting Sara up as she giggled to no end. Little limbs flailing. She bubbled a raspberry and he chuckled.

Camille stood there in the kitchen doorway and averted her eyes.

“Come sit with us.” He pushed up, nestling Sara into his lap.

“I’m going to ask if I can go back early. To work. They need me.”

“Uh,” Billy tread carefully, standing, “it hasn't even been a month. We’re still figuring this out. Take the time. You earned it.”

“I can work part time.” Camille said it without any emotion. Not blinking. Staring at his feet while Sara wiggling there into his chest and played with blond curls.

“I don’t want to make this choice for you, but I think it’s a bad idea. We haven’t even figured out our hours when we go back. Babysitters. Camille, don’t push it-...why won’t you even look at her?”

Billy said that without even thinking. Camille’s eyes glinted at him.

“What?”

“It’s like you want nothing to do with us anymore.”

“That’s not true.”

“Well, look at her then. Hold her. We made her and she’s perfect.”

“Billy.” Camille backed up. Touched her palms to her ears. Didn’t know how to not hear this. “Stop it. I’m fine… Stop saying that word.”

“Huh?”

“Perfect, she doesn’t have to be-”

“You know what I mean.” He eased. Camille vibrated there. Paranoid. Manic. Lost. Went around him and slammed a door. Sara jilted. Started to cry as he bounced her. “Hey, no, you’re fine. Mommy’s just upset. She’s tired. She’s just tired.”

Camille slid down the door. Cried there because she scared her little girl. She made her baby cry. She was a bad mother. These thoughts chanted until she was covering her ears again. Got into bed and curled into the tiniest ball she could.

Something strange happened as she shook and wept there. Her fist beating into her shoulder. Punishing herself for being bad until sleep crept. A bad mommy. Bad. Bad. Bad. The skin purpled with a bruise that next morning. Camille felt Billy stirring behind her.

They slept apart.

“Hey, I gotta go pick up some stuff. I’ll grab groceries.” He kissed her head. “Might be a few hours.”

“Okay.” Camille rasped, eyes on the wall. On the rain trickling outside.

“Camille, last night, I-”

A whimper on cue from the monitor.

“I got her. She’s hungry.” A robe pulled over her nightgown. Over the bruise. She couldn’t look at Billy as she left. Plucking Sara up, she went out to the couch to feed her. Her husband appeared dressed and eyed her carefully.

“I’ll be back soon.” Billy reassured her. Hesitated at the door before he lifted his eyes. “Love you.”

“...Love you.” Camille said quieter. Let the TV drone. Billy locked the door and didn’t make it to his Camaro. Instead pushed coins into a payphone.

“Yeah? Hello?” A tired voice answered from a hotel room.

“Jim.” Billy swallowed. “Hey, I...”

“You alright, Billy?”

“It’s Camille. I don’t...” Billy paused. “I’m headed out to run some errands. Can you come over? Sit with her a bit. I left the key under the mat.”

“Billy, is everything okay?”

A pause. Billy didn’t know how to tell Jim what he saw. But, Camille always responded to Jim’s love. She needed it right now. Billy felt useless.

“I don’t know.” See for yourself.

He hung up and got into his car. Wiped his eyes before he pulled out.

** ** **

“Come on, we can do this.” Camille groaned. One breast out to feed the baby. “Please.” Sara wiggled in protest. She looked up at her mother. Smiled.

Camille shattered.

“Don’t do that.” She quivered.

Don’t look at me with undying trust and love.

Don’t look at me like I'm all you got because I’m failing you.

“I’m sorry.” Camille offered at last. Felt like she’d been holding that in since she saw the strip turn blue. “I’m sorry, I can’t...I’m a bad mommy and I’m so sorry.” Tears hit Sara’s cheeks and blanket. A baby blanket Grace knitted with the baby’s name in it. Pale lavender. Camille sobbed and held her. “I don’t know why I feel like this and I’m so sorry.”

She couldn’t stop. The baby just cooed at her. Grabbed for long locks of brown hair.

Don’t cry, mommy.

That was how Jim found them.

Camille drained of life and sobbing over the baby she felt she'd let down. Skin discolored and bruised. Clothing loose and crumpled. One of her breasts out. Hyperventilating. Vibrating. Sara still contented in her arms. Looking around in wonder.

“Camille, sweetheart,” Jim crossed and she hitched to breathe. Offered the baby to him. Desperate.

“Take her. Take her away from me. I can’t. I can’t do this. I’m not right. I can’t keep her safe from men in suits with red ties. I'll just hurt her too. I’m a bad mother. I’m not...I don’t feel...” Camille shook and Jim took the bundle. “I can’t look at her because I can’t do this. I’m awful. I’m a horrible mother. I’m sorry!”

Skin paled and eyes huge, Camille crushed in on herself.

Hands covered her face. Crossed legs lifting so she could curl up again there.

“Camille...” Jim eased. Realized how unwell she’d been. Clearly not sleeping or eating in the short time they’d been home. “She’s okay, Camille. You’re doing okay.”

“I’m not, I’m not. She’ll be like me and they’ll take her away. They’ll stage a car accident or fry our brains and she’ll be out there and all alone. I made her cry, I didn’t mean to.” She kept thinking about Rosemary and Noah brushing her aside. Lying to her. Keeping her in a cage.

“That won’t happen, no matter what she becomes.” Jim faced her, cradling the tiny baby against him. “Deep breath.” He managed to fix her nightgown back up with a free hand. “Hey, look at her, it’s okay. She's safe.”

Camille wiped her eyes and stared at the floor.

“Has it been like this since you got home?” He frowned. “We...We didn’t-”

“It just feels all wrong, Jim. I don’t understand.” That raw voice squeaked. He brought her against him with his arm. Holding Sara there too.

“She’s healthy and beautiful. And she’s happy. You did that.” Jim offered. Camille’s fingers dug into his jacket. “You’re not well. I’ve seen this before with my own family. We’re going to get you some help, okay? You need help and that’s okay.”

Camille only nodded. One shaken hand reached out to touch her daughter. Finger running the curve of her little chin.

“When’s Billy getting home?”

“Couple hours tops.” She sniffled.

“I want you to go lie down.”

“She hasn’t eaten.” Camille persisted, head lifting.

“We’ll try again in a bit. I’m going to make you something to eat and I want you to just close your eyes. I’ll take care of the baby.” Jim stood, ushering her with him. “Get into bed.”

“What about Billy?” Camille let Jim cover her. “He...He seemed...”

“I’ll explain it to him. Just rest.” Jim settled Sara into her crib. Turned the mobile on. He made some plain toast and got Camille to sit up and each both pieces. Brushed crumbs off her face. Tucked her into a warm bed.

Then, he called Joyce.

** ** **

Billy came home with his arms full of bags. Stopped there at the scene. Joyce playing with Sara on the couch. Jim just walked out of the kitchen.

“Where’s Camille?” He dropped the groceries aside. Jim put a slow hand on his shoulder.

“I got her fed and to sleep. We managed to help her feed Sara after the first hour...” Jim sighed. “Billy, Camille’s...”

“I don’t know what’s happening to her. She doesn’t want to be around Sara or I.”

“What’s happening to Camille is common. Happens to mothers everywhere. She needs to go talk to someone about it.” Jim cocked his head and helped the new father put his items away while Joyce stayed on the couch. “Postpartum depression. You read about that?”

“Some in the baby books. Not much.”

“Camille is feeling very...”

“Blue.” Billy’s eyes went distant. He sucked his cheeks in. Set his jaw to sigh. “I ignored it. I got mad at her for...”

“It’s not either of your faults. It happens. Camille has to go talk to someone before she hurts herself. She needs support. It’ll be okay. I promise.” That somehow relaxed Billy. Jim always knew what to do. What to say.

“I hope,” Billy began, “I can be a dad like you.”

Hopper smiled at that. Beamed and hugged Billy to his chest. The new daddy paced to see his baby on the couch.

“She behaving for you?”

“That she is.” Joyce smiled. “We got her. Camille’s in the bedroom.”

“Thanks.” Billy kissed Sara’s head and went in. Clicking the door open. Camille stirred. Head lifting when he got behind her. “Hey.”

“Hi.” She stiffened up as he brought her to his chest. “Jim tell you?”

“Yeah.” Billy’s chin settled upon her crown.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, we’ll get through it. You, Sara, and I. We’re a team. Little pack of wolves.” Billy kissed her head. Let her finally breath him in and cling as she turned to burrow into his chest. “You two are everything to me. Nothing else is as important as us.”

“I love you. I love her. I do.”

“I know you do. And we love you. We’ll get you help, Camille. It’s okay.” Billy cuddled her closer. Thought of Hopper. “I promise.”

** ** **

Camille woke before Billy that next morning. Went to feed Sara. Jim and Joyce left after another long talk with Billy when Camille fell back asleep.

“Okay, Sara, it’s just you and me. We can do this.” She adjusted and sat in the rocking chair. Cupped her breast to offer it. Pain stung a little but… “There we go. Good girl. Yes.”

Camille felt herself smile this morning. Billy made an appoint for her. She would be taking the full maternity leave.

Sara wiggled and burped up as Camille bounced her. Hummed Billy’s song to her and flicked the mobile around. Her husband hadn’t emerged yet so she went into the kitchen. Made a turkey and cheese sandwich. Sliced it diagonally and fell into the couch to watch some TV. Billy stumbled in and stood there with bed head. Beautiful beyond belief.

“Morning.”

“Morning.” Camille took half the sandwich and offered the plate to him. Billy brightened. Sat next to her. They shared the food in silence. Watched TV until she got under his arm. Rain padded against the windows. Sounded peaceful. “Do you think she’ll like surfing or ballet?”

Eyes flickered over his wife as she engaged herself at last. With ease.

“I think she’ll be into pro wrestling.” Billy smiled fuller. Camille let herself feel it, pushing at his chest before she laughed. Still a pretty sound. Inhaled the scent of him before he brought her hand up to kiss the tender skin of her wrist.

“She’s gonna do whatever she wants to do, I think.” Camille said then, kissing up his jaw to find soft lips. “And we’ll be there to support her... We’ll always be there, won’t we?”

“We will and that’s enough. I promise.” Billy tucked hair aside for a feverish kiss, nuzzled down into her neck to murmur. “You doing alright?”

Camille saw his lashes flutter. Traced her fingers over the freckles and thought about how she couldn’t wait to see them bloom like fresh petals upon their daughter.

“Today? Yeah. I think so. We’ve got each other.” She breathed, pressing lips into wild curls. They held each other while the rain fell lighter. Realized Billy was right. Echoed his call. “That’s enough.”

Sara roused for her parents. Squirmed as Camille picked her up to bring her into the living room so they could gush and admire her. Neon hearts that glowed brighter by the hour. Her lullaby and sunrise all at once.

“I love you both,” Billy nudged his head into Camille’s temple, “so much. You know that?”

“You’re a magnificent father. We're lucky, Sara and I.” Camille’s lips pressed and the curves of her expression blurred. Billy blinked several times. A smile pressed. She let Sara giggle in her lap and held one finger with a strong, little hand. Babbling some until Camille was laughing to encourage it. “She’s all blush and tangerine today.” Not blue.

“She’s beautiful,” Billy sighed there with so much contentment as Camille let herself relax. “And she’s just like her mother.”

Hazel eyes lifted to see him. Amazed by this wonder of a life they created. A miracle. Like a specific star they’d plucked down to cherish and nurture.

“She’ll be messy and also so kind. Good. Angry when she needs to be. She’ll cry and not be shamed for it. Our baby will be shown so much love, the world couldn’t hope to swallow her.” Camille smiled again. Softer by the hour as she gazed at Sara there. “The best parts of us. Our love. Into one gorgeous creature. She’s us, Billy.”

That hit the new mother hard. Made her voice quiver.

"She's us."

Camille felt a glimmer of it then as she understood it all. That connection threading red cords around her heart. Casting out to anchor others so close. Billy saw it resonate and felt it too. Held them both on the sofa as they curled up like a family. Their own pack. Camille would teach Sara to howl at the moon and tear through forests. To endure and pull herself back to her feet at every stumble. To lead and love as hard as she could. Like she was meant to.

Billy only glittered at her. Camille’s burst of vitality and hope. They had each other and they would get through whatever would follow the horizon.

“And it’s enough,” he repeated in peace, “I promise.”

#billy hargrove #Billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove fanfiction #Billy Hargrove imagine #Billyhargroveedit #MINE #Camille Harper #writing #Stranger things #Stranger things fanfiction

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stranger-things-trashtm-blog · 6 years

Text

The wonderful @sneakysprinkle requested, “Hey I would love love love it if you could make a mileven fic set at the cabin with the rest of the party. (Maybe they could explore elevens powers?) please please please!! :)” Here you go, hope you like it!!

Jim Hopper stood in the dark corner of his hunting cabin smoking a cigarette and keeping a careful eye on his adopted daughter, Jane. The young girl sat quietly on the couch her legs crossed underneath her while a small gaggle of pre-teens sat on the floor in front of her. They had decided as a group that today would be the day they would determine just how powerful Jane was. Hopper had insisted he be present for the “experiment” for the safety of everyone involved. Dustin was the first to break the silence,”I mean we know you can kill people and close interdimensional portals, so I guess we can check that one off the list.” Mike groaned, of course, Dustin had made an actual list.

“Give me that,” Mike snapped and tore the paper from Dustin’s hands. “Time travel? Teleportation? Replication? Are you serious?” Mike crumpled the sheet of paper, he had been the only one of the party to veto this idea. “Don’t you think she’s gone through enough test already? We’re supposed to be her friends and you want to poke and pinch at her to make her do to party tricks?” Mike looked desperately to Hopper, “You’re the adult here, tell them we shouldn’t do this,” the Chief remained stoic, unmoved by Mike’s plea. “Mike,” Mike turned to look at her, “I want to do this, I need to do this,”

“Yeah but- El, just- I don’t want you to feel like you need to. You aren’t some sort of sideshow attraction.” She smiled at him softly placing her hand gently on his shoulder, “I’ll decide when it’s time to stop, I promise I won’t be-” she looked towards Hopper,” I won’t be stupid.”

For over an hour Dustin rattled off ideas from his list, most of them were based around things he had seen in movies or on TV. The truth of the matter was there was no way of knowing what Eleven could really do or what things were even possible, this was a totally alien concept to them. At first, things were pretty tame, making a spoon float mid-air, turning the lights on and off, but after a while, that wasn’t enough. Eleven started pushing herself more and more, she made the doors slam and caused a fire to roar to life in the fireplace. She sent chairs flying across the room and burst the lightbulbs in every lamp. “Okay, that’s enough!” Mike said but Eleven was in a deep trance, blood pooled in her nostrils and dribbled down her lips.

“El, stop it! You’re going to hurt yourself!” Max cried, just as she said that a large book came flying across the room hitting her square in the jaw. “Hey!” Lucas yelled throwing his body across Max as records started cutting through the air. Hopper ran to his girl, holding her head in his hands, “Jane, you have to stop this, okay.” He said this in a way that sounded calm but his eyes were full of terror. “Jane?” Nothing changed the cabin was now in full chaos. Max and Lucas ran for the door but it wouldn’t open and Dustin dove under the couch for protection. Hopper was now shaking the young girl, “Come on, kid, snap out of it!” Her brown eyes were glazed over and her mouth hung open slightly, she was completely gone, disappeared into her mind.

“I’m so sorry for this,” Hopper said as he drew his hand back and gave Jane a hard smack across the mouth. “What did you do that for?” Mike screamed as he moved closer to Eleven. “I’m running out of ideas here, kid.”

“Look out!” Max screamed as a butcher knife flew through the air implanting itself into the wall. “I think I know something that’ll work,” Mike cried as he ran for his backpack. He dove over chairs and books making his way towards the bag. Once he had it in his hands he dug around frantically before he found what he was looking for. He double checked the cassette was still in his Walkman and then joined Hopper who was still desperately trying to pull El from her trance.

As Mike fumbled with the headphones he could hear Hopper pleading with Eleven, “I promise you this isn’t that place. You are safe here, I would never, ever let anything bad happen to you I promise. But you need to come back, okay? Please come back. You have to come back to me, El. Come back to Dad, okay?” Finally, Mike inserted the jack correctly, he moved quickly wiping the blood from El’s ears as he slowly placed the headphones over her curly hair. Pressing play Mike waited for a sign. Mike had spent hours putting together that mixtape that was now bursting through the headphones.

He had sat in his room for days waiting for songs to come on the radio so he could record them on a cassette. Most of them were cheesy love songs or ones he thought El might like but the first one on there was the song that had played the night they had danced together at the snowball, the night they had kissed. Mike waited a tense few moments while the cabin and what felt like the world around him shook. As the tape whirled in the player, the color slowly returned to El’s face, her eyes lost the glaze that had so deeply covered them.

The chaos that had erupted so suddenly slowly began to calm itself like the rain receding after the climax of a storm. Suddenly Eleven blinked as if she was just waking up from a deep sleep. “Dad?” She whispered softly. Mike had never seen the Chief so overcome with emotion. He wrapped Eleven up in his arms and held her there for a very long time. Without a word he picked her up and took her into her old bedroom, the one she had used before Hopper had moved her into his home. After placing her gently down and the Chief entered the room and instructed the Party it was time for them to leave. Dustin, Lucas, and Max left without a word but Mike stood still, and Hopper understood that the Wheeler boy wasn’t leaving without saying goodbye.

The Chief gave him a nod and Mike quietly moved into the bedroom. Eleven looked so small covered in the massive quilts Hopper had piled on her. Mike took a seat next to the bed and held her hand. Hopper emerged with a washcloth and basin and without saying a word Mike took the damp cloth and began to wipe the blood from her mouth and ears. Hopper took out a cigarette with shaking fingers but thought better of it and went to take his smoke outside. Mike sat alone in the room for a few more moments before she opened her eyes, “Mike?” Her voice was hoarse and her lips were cracked.

Mike leaned forward giving her a small kiss on the forehead, “Hi,” he said gently as if she were a baby animal. “I’m sorry.”She said and Mike nodded his head, he wasn’t mad at her, in fact, he didn’t even feel like he was owed an apology but he knew that Eleven would never forgive herself if she didn’t attempt to make amends. “It’s okay, I know you can’t control it,” he winced, “I, I mean you can- I just mean sometimes- I- you,”

“No, you’re right,” Eleven whispered, “I can’t control it.” She looked to him and there was so much pain in her eyes Mike felt his whole body ache to see her like that. “Do you ever wish I was normal?” She asked pulling herself deeper into her cocoon of blankets. “What?” Mike asked genuinely taken aback by the question. “Do you ever wish I was like other girls? Like Max.” Mike shook his head furiously, “Why would I ever want that?” He asked as he pulled her hand closer to him, “El, you’re amazing, why would I ever want to be with anyone else?”

She pulled away and turned her back to him, “Normal girls can’t do what I do. Normal girls don’t almost kill their boyfriends,” her voice broke at that moment and her body began to shake as tears spilled from her eyes. Mike got up and quickly moved to the other side of the bed, “Please, don’t cry, just please don’t cry,” he said softly. Thinking quickly Mike grabbed the one-eyed teddy bear that sat on the floor. He picked it up and made it’s feet walk over to El’s face. “Hi, El!” Mike said in a high pitched voice, there was a hint of a smile on her lips, Mike pressed on, “Do you know that I think you are the most amazing, most powerful, most bitchin’ girl I know?” A smile quickly spread on Eleven’s lips but disappeared just as quickly. “And I think Mike Wheeler is the luckiest guy in the whole world. You wanna know why?” Mike asked still using the bear to do most of the talking. El remained quiet, Mike took the bear’s paw and wiped a tear that was slowly falling down her nose, “Come on, ask him why.” Mike prompted, “Why?” El asked quietly.

“Mike is the luckiest guy because you love him and he loves you,” by this point Mike had stopped using the high pitched voice and spoke directly to her even though he still moved the bear as if it was still talking, “And there is nobody else in this universe that he would fight a demodog for, and there is no one else in this universe that he would call every night for-”

“Three hundred and fifty-three day,” Eleven said. She sat up and pulled Mike into a hug, “I would never want anyone else but you, I love you.” He whispered as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. She pulled back, resting her head against his forehead, “I know, I love you too.”

After a few more minutes the Chief reappeared smelling of smoke and Mike understood it was time for him to leave, besides he knew that El would want to go and spend the night in her new bedroom, the one with the flowers that Will had so painstakingly painted by hand over the summer. As Mike walked out the door and towards his bike Hopper called out to him, "You're a good kid, Wheeler. You got a good head on your shoulders." Mike nodded and turned to leave, "Listen," the Chief said and he slowly walked to join Mike, "I never thanked you, for what you did, back when she first escaped. If you and your buddies hadn't found her, I don't know what would have happened."

Mike nodded, "Well, I mean I couldn't just leave her out there, she needed someone." The chief took a deep a breath, "Well, if it means anything I'm glad the person she ended up needing was you." And with that, the Chief turned back to the cabin. Mike began to peddle but heard a small voice call out, "Wait!" Miike turned to see El standing on the porch she ran to meet him. Before Mike could say anything El pulled him into a kiss. Mike's heart pounded, and his legs felt shaky, he wondered if he would ever get used to kissing her or if it would always feel like the first time every time. The feeling was so amazing Mike could have sworn he was floating, in fact it really did feel like he was floating. He didn't even realize he had been until his feet gently touched the ground.

#stranger things #stranger things fan fic #stranger things drabble #mileven #eleven/jane #mike wheeler #jim hopper #dad jim hopper #requested

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nancythebisexualslutwheeler · 6 years

Note

Byler prompt: Will and Mike like to hold hands underneath the table while playing DnD. It began as a platonic comfort but now they're starting to realize that it might be a bit more than that...

I am straight up the most extra person I know. Also background stoncy cause I couldn’t not.

They used to do it all the time. It was like a part of the game to them. Every night when the gang would gather to play Dungeons and Dragons, everyone would take their assigned seats, and Mike would take Will’s hand in his.

He’d expected it to be sweaty or awkward, but it just wasn’t. It was nice. He loved it, and it was part of his routine.

He knew better than to try it after the upside down. Will was extremely sensitive to people babying him or worrying about him too much, Mike included. Mrs. Byers worried enough for all of them, but Mike didn’t blame her. He’d seen the way his sister moped around sometimes, or how she woke up in the middle of the night screaming Barb’s name. He knows it’s happened to Will and he just wants to help.

But Will won’t let him. He’d learned his lesson the first time after Will had come back. They’d been playing in the basement and at first it was awkward, but they got back into the swing of things right away, especially when Nancy dropped off their pizza and two liter of coke. So Mike had reached over for Will’s hand, fingertips still greasy and Will had pulled away so hard that he shook his chair and the old card table chair had fallen to the ground.

Everyone was around Will in an instant, except Mike, who stayed in his own seat, cheeks red and chest tight with the hurt of rejection. When Will got up, with the help of Dustin and Lucas, the look he shot Mike was murderous.

“I’m going home,” he stated, eyes locked on Mike.

“Why? Do you need a band aid?” Asks El.

“No, but my elbows kinda messed up,” he lies.

“Come on man, no! Please stay,” Dustin says.

“I’m leaving,” Will snaps harshly, and the other five kids look at each other, he never acts like this.

“Well you don’t have to be a jerk!” Max says, going back to her seat and sitting down.

“Whatever. Bye.”

“How are you gonna get home?” Mike demands, “You told your mom you were spending the night!”

“Jonathan will take me.” Will says fiercely, crossing his arms over his chest.

“He’s upstairs with Nancy! It’s their date night!” And Mike knows this because she made it very clear they were not to be bothered.

“Well then tell your sister to quit macking on my brother so he can bring me the hell home!” And with that he stomps up the stairs.

The rest of the kids just stare at each other,

“What the hell was that?” Dustin asks.

“He needs a time out,” El says, taking a drink of her soda.

“He needs his ass kicked!” Says Max.

“He’s still messed up from the upside down,” Mike defends, even though he feels sick to his stomach.

“But that’s not like him,” Lucas argues.

“I know. But what can we do?”

The rest of them take their seats, but no one really feels like playing anymore. It’s only a short while later that Lucas says he’s going home. Dustin, El and Max quickly follow them, and soon Mike is left alone, with the extra food and trash, game pieces scattered.

He sighs, chest still tight, and gathers the paper cups, plates and used napkins to bring them upstairs. Their parents still aren’t home and Nancy is still on the couch in a bathrobe, presumably waiting for Jonathan to get back. (Or Steve to get off work) he’s not really sure what’s going on with that whole situation.

“Everyone rushed out early,” she says, turning to look at him.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I told Will to leave you guys alone.”

She shrugs,

“It’s fine. Mom called and said they’re going to stay in the city anyway, and Jonathan can pick up Steve from work on his way back so no big deal. Plus we were actually studying at that point anyway.”

Mike makes a gagging noise and Nancy flips him off. He laughs and she turns around so she’s kneeling on the couch, braced against the back on it, facing him,

“So what happened? Will seemed pretty pissed.”

Mike’s face drops,

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Hold the phone, what was that? What just happened? Did Will do something to you?”

“No! No of course not.”

“Well then why are you looking like that?!”

“God Nancy, you’re so nosy. Nothing.” Mike turns away to walk to his room. He doesn’t wanna talk about it. He just wants to cry.

“I’m nosy?! We were having a conversation! God you’re such a baby!”

“And you’re a bitch!” He turns and runs upstairs.

He’ll have to apologize tomorrow. It usually takes much more for him to call her a bitch. Usually around the same time she calls him an annoying asshole, or slams the door in his face for no reason. She didn’t deserve it. She wasn’t even prying like she usually does.

He’s just. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know why he’s so upset. It’s not like Will is. Eleven or something. Or Max. But Will is Will. He’s his best friend. And funny. And cute. And sweet. Will who had baked him a cake for his birthday and made Jonathan drive him over at seven am before school to give it to him. The last two years.

Will who had almost died. Will who didn’t want to hold his hand anymore, because he’d almost died. Mike didn’t know what to do. He didn’t think he was showing his feelings. But who could fault him if he wanted to hug Will all the time or see him smile, or watch him dance to his favorite song even though he truly couldn’t dance. Or hold Will’s hand, or even kiss him, maybe. (The jury was still out on that one. Kissing seemed gross. Even though everyone loved it, especially his mom and Dad. Ew! And Nancy and Jonathan (also maybe Steve?)). But the point was, he wanted to hold Will’s hand. And be around him. But Will didn’t want that. He was apparently creeped out by Mike and no longer wanted his weird, queer self around, especially not touching him.

The thought makes tears rush to his eyes and he buries his face is his pillow. This is too much. First Will almost died and this. He probably didn’t even want to be Mike’s friend anymore. And if he didn’t want to be his friend anymore then what was he going to do? And the whole rest of the group would find out and think Mike was a freak. Oh god. He sobs harder.

There’s a knock on his door a few minutes later,

“Go away!” He croaks.

Instead he hears the hinges of his door opening and he curses himself for not locking it. He hastily scrubs at his face with his sleeve and turns,

“Seriously Nancy! I’m not in the mood!”

She doesn’t say anything but he feels the pressure on the edge of the bed and she sits down and he breaks into tears again.

“Oh Mikey,” he hears her set something on his nightstand and then she wraps her arms around him, “What’s wrong honey?”

It takes him a few minutes to choke out, “Will doesn’t want to hold my hand!”

He watches a chunk of spit hit her in the chest, and she doesn’t flinch or move to wipe it off, just pulls back slightly to stare down at him,

“What do you mean?” She asks softly.

And Mike spills the whole story, as she brushes his hair away from his face and rubs his back, fingers tracing in different patterns.

“Well the first thing I want to tell you is you’re not a freak. You’re allowed to like anyone you want to like. Maybe Will was just scared because he likes you too.”

“You really think so?” He asks.

“He could. Or maybe he just didn’t want you to pity him because of the upside down. Or maybe he doesn’t like boys and he decided he doesn’t want to hold your hand. I think that’s unlikely, but it’s true. You have to remember he’s also my obligated to hold your hand.”

“I know, I know. Don’t go all psych major on me.”

“Wannabe psych major and shut up! I’m sure it’s one of the first two, but still.”

He sighs,

“You think he really likes me?”

She smiles,

“There’s only one way to find out .”

“But what if he doesn’t? That’s embarrassing.”

“You have to take a chance! You can end up in a great relationship, with someone you really like.”

Mike snorts, reaching for the pint of ice cream she had set on the nightstand. It’s rocky road, his favorite. He takes an enormous spoonful and hands it to her. She takes a more respectful size one and sucks on the spoon,

“Easy for you to say.”

“What?” She asks.

“Don’t you have two boyfriends?”

She splutters and blushes,

“Shut up. Fine. Ask Jonathan about how he asked Steve out then. He should be on his way back.”

“Ask him about Will?!”

“Not about Will goofball, just ask without mentioning him. Now give me some of that,” she makes grabby hands towards the pint and he hands it back.

That’s how Jonathan and Steve find them, forty five minutes later, an empty pint of ice cream between them. Steve intimidated him in general, so he timidly asks if he can speak to Jonathan alone, to which Nancy hops up and grabs Steve’s hand, tugging him to the door, before he can even say anything.

Jonathan is easier, and he’s honest. He tells Mike about being scared because his dad was always calling him a faggot and a queer. And that he is bisexual, which means boys and girls, which is a lot and Mike didn’t even know you could do that. And he tells Mike that he’s so happy now and that Steve and Nancy are great, and he has to stop him a few times because he’s getting gross and that is his sister but he is clearly so in love and he can hold their hands and even kiss them any time he wants. Mike thanks him eagerly, and Jonathan gives him a hug, and promises that if things don’t go as intended, they will kick the guy’s ass. He appreciates the sentiment.

He doesn’t sleep very well, but he knows he can’t do anything until morning. He feels a new found confidence when he wakes up, and ducks out of the house, careful to not wake his sister or her guests, makes sure to leave a note, and rides his bike to the Byers.

It’s still pretty early and he realizes that he hasn’t eaten breakfast, mostly because Joyce opens the door, hair frizzy and pancake batter on her cheek. Hopper and Eleven are there of course, and Will looks up from the table, shocked to see him.

“Well good morning Mike, honey, let me get you a plate.”

“Thank you so much Mrs.Byers, but I was hoping I could take to Will for a second.”

She looks between them,

“Um, of course.”

So Will slowly stands up and leads Mike to his bedroom. Mike feels weird now. Will’s just staring at him and his fingers itch to pull him in for a hug.

“I like boys.” Mike blurts out.

Will stares.

“Like like boys.”

Will just stares at him, unmoving.

“I like you.”

Will’s jaw drops a bit.

“I understand if you don’t like me but, I just wanted you to know. I wanna hold your hand because I like you. Not because I pity you or feel bad, but just because I want to. And I hope that’s okay. And I hope you like me too. But if you don’t-“

Will shakes his head and Mike cuts himself off, stomach churning.

“Of course I like you, you idiot! I just thought you felt bad or thought you had to be my friend and hold my hand because of the upside down or something. I didn’t know you actually wanted to.”

“Of course I want to!” Mike says eagerly.

Will smiles, “Really?”

“Really.”

Mike crosses the room and throws his arms around Will. Will hugs back tightly, before pulling back,

“I didn’t think this was how this was going to go.”

Mike chuckles,

“Me either.”

“I’m glad.”

“Me too.” Mike kisses Will’s cheek softly, and cheeks flaming, Will grabs Mike’s hand and leads him back out to the kitchen table.

Joyce is standing at the stove, Hopper is buttering his pancake and El is shoving an Eggo in her mouth. There’s no dramatic moment, no big reveal. Joyce turns around, spatula in hand and catches sight of their hands,

“Sweetie your plate is,” she pauses but for only a half a second, “right there. Feel free to move my plate so you can sit by Will.”

Hopper watches, before picking up the syrup and dumping it on his pancake,

“I hope your parents know where you are son, it’s my one day off and I don’t wanna have to make any phone calls.”

“Yes sir,” Mike nods, dunking his knife in the butter.

“Pass the syrup,” Eleven demands, a smile on her face.

Will reaches across his body with his free hand to grab it, before passing it to her. Shoves a bite of his own food in his mouth. Grins.

Mike stops by the store on his way home to get a thank you card. He addresses it to Steve, Nancy and Jonathan and pushes it under Nancy’s door because it’s still not open, but Jonathan’s car is still in their driveway and their parents still aren’t home.

It says: thank you to Jonathan, for all the advice, even though you’re sappy and your face gets all gooey when you talk about them. Steve thank you for being so wonderful to Jonathan that he literally cannot shut up about you. My sister too. Nancy, thank you for the advice and cuddles and the ice cream. PS: you’re not a bitch PPS: only sometimes

#asks #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #stoncy #prompt #stranger things

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