do you wanna feel how it feels?

Something about the speed with which Max asks if she ate yet makes Dottie shake her head, "Nope, not yet," even though she had. And the way Max follows it up with the suggestion that they could share tells Dottie that she wouldn't eat if Dottie wasn't; she can understand that mentality, it could feel awkward to be the only one eating, especially at someone else's house. "That's great, we'll share!" She gives a little jerk of her head to coax Max to follow her into the kitchen.

It's sort of an old fashioned-looking kitchen; her mom had changed a few things with furniture and stuff when they first moved in, but all the kitchen appliances and wallpapers and everything are still how her grandmother had it, and the kitchen is very pink, with it's pink refrigerator and pink oven, and pink painted cabinets. (Not that Dottie's old house hadn't also had it's fair share of pink, with its pink rugs. Her mom and grandmother share their love of pink. Maybe its genetic.) The microwave is new, though, and out of place in its not-pink-ness.

She remembers how her stomach hurt when Neil came into the kitchen. Hunger and fear are two different things, and yet they are the same in the Hargrove house. Neil's asking Billy if he's just gonna let her spoil her dinner. Max knows when she's a stranger in her own house, and anyway, Max always runs. Billy always plants his feet. Stands there, unyielding. (Billy, get up please. Get up. Billy, please, get up!) So she does what she does best and gets the hell out, dripping jelly on the carpet with her usual runaway tactics. Neil didn't like that. He started yelling Billy's name. And then the PB&J didn't taste so good. So, she scoots closer to Dottie, like a coconspirator. Like that will help. Two hands in the cookie jar, two hands to take whatever bad thing comes with,

"Okay, we'll share. That's good." She shrugs her shoulder, mostly to shrug off the things that haunt her. She rests her skateboard by the front door. Max is quiet, follows Dottie into a kitchen, pretty in pink. Well, pretty if pink's your color, which for Max, it most decidedly is not. "Wow, this is..." She struggles to find the words. Scrunches her nose. "...Really pink." It comes out sarcastic, like Max kinda can't believe it. Maybe because she's got a gut feeling that the color doesn't make this place any more homey than the muted colors of the trailer that awaits her.

"You want any help?" She asks, kinda swinging her arms in a gesture that says she's not sure what to do with them. It's not the question Max wants to ask. Like she wants to ask Dottie a lot. Like if she's sad, too. And sad doesn't cover it all, like it just doesn't. But it would be a start. Max just isn't good at this. She sort of beats around the bush, talks in code. But curiosity starts to get the better of her, and she's lifting a brow. Watching Dottie drum her fingers on the table like Billy used to drum his fingers on the wheel of the Camaro.

"Nice choice," Max says, and means it. She sits heavy in the lyrics of "The Big Sky" for a second. The part about not being understood. The only problem is the big sky isn't full of the golden colors of a San Diego sunset. It's dark now. Ominous. "You used to drive around with Billy a lot, didn't you?" Max blurts it out, immediately regrets it. She looks down, away. Doesn't know how to recover because her favorite song is about him, too. But Dottie's asking because Max asked first, so,

billy hargrove in every scene (11/∞):

forget  about  me  so  easily,  harrington?  that  hurt  look  he'd  seen  the  day  steve  broke  things  off  with  billy  was  a  mask  on  dream-billy's  face.  frozen  as  if  it  were  sculpted  on  his  beautiful  face.  a  marble  statue  of  white  stone,  his  classically  attractive  appearance  lined  with  deep  betrayal.  because  steve  had…  betrayed  him.  he  wanted  to  scream,  to  wail  against  the  truth  of  it.  that  he  was  sacrificing  his  own  happiness  for  billy's  safety,  but  was  that  all?  or  was  it  an  excuse  to  run.  run  far  away  from  the  things  billy  made  him.  what  billy  was  teaching  him  about  himself.  if  he  couldn't  rest  in  the  hollow  shell  of  loneliness  he'd  carved  out  for  himself  long  ago,  steve  didn't  feel  safe.  there  was  a  different  kind  of  safety  in  being  trapped  within  your  comfort  zone  and  being  challenged  with  something  new.  something  wonderful.  being  challenged  with  a  love  steve  never  imagined  for  himself.  until  billy  offered  it  to  him.  what  did  steve  do  in  return?  he  threw  it  back  in  his  face,  citing  it  wasn't  worth  the  trouble  to  keep.  a  cold  pit  hardened  in  steve's  gut  at  the  memory  that  swallowed  him  up  in  his  unconscious  state.  his  mind  and  body  needed  to  reset  after  the  fight,  but  he  would  find  no  rest  for  his  spirit.  he  could  only  wander  through  the  haunting  of  his  mistake.  the  memory  of  how  he  hurt  billy  to  protect  himself.

they  were  in  the  car.  steve  had  driven  them  out  to  a  dirt  road  in  the  middle  of  the  woods.  possibly  outside  the  town  limits,  but  he  couldn't  be  sure.  he  was  distracted  and  followed  the  winding  of  the  road  until  he  was  sure  they  were  alone.  billy  was  trying  to  kiss  him,  but  steve  held  him  off.  “  i  really  need  to  talk  to  you  about  something.  it's  important.  ”  the  words  were  like  lead  on  his  tongue.  bitter  tasting,  and  steve  longed  to  be  rid  of  them.  he  was  mourning  the  feel  of  billy's  mouth  already.  knowing  it  would  be  the  last  time  he  would  kiss  him.  steve's  mind  tried  to  take  him  to  the  feel  of  billy's  body  on  top  of  him,  beneath  him,  taking  him  so  good…  steve  shuttered  his  eyes  and  shook  himself  from  those  thoughts.  it  was  a  stab  to  his  own  heart  knowing  what  he  had  to  follow  through  with  doing.  he  pressed  the  back  of  his  hand  to  his  own  mouth  and  steeled  himself.  thoughts  of  marking  billy  with  his  kisses  and  small  bruises  from  their  loving  was  replaced  with  the  fearful  sight  of  marks  from  billy's  abuse.  their  blissed  out  cries  drowned  out  by  neil's  shaming  of  billy's  dating  life.  so  steve  did  it.  he  told  billy  it  was  over.  they  had  to  stop  before  it  was  too  late.  there  couldn't  be  a  future  for  them.  where  would  they  live?  on  and  on  with  such  solvable  issues  if  he  wasn't  so  hard-headed  and  scared  to  face  them. 

it  couldn't  be  over!  as  soon  as  steve  found  out  his  chance  at  making  things  right  with  billy  was  possible,  he  didn't  hesitate.  not  anymore.  he'd  face  an  army  of  soldiers  if  it  meant  healing  the  wound  he'd  caused  billy.  they  were  in  the  car  again,  but  this  time,  it  was  real.  it  was  the  present.  steve  fought  to  get  billy  back,  and  he  still  had  some  fighting  to  do.  steve  was  still  cold,  though.  cold  all  over.  cold  through  and  through.  he  was  cold  within  that  horrible  memory,  and  he  was  cold  now.  selfish  for  seeking  out  billy's  warmth.  he  thought  to  drop  his  hand  away  from  billy's  grasp.  as  selfish  as  he  was,  he  couldn't  let  him  go.  he'd  fought  to  get  him  back,  and  dammit,  he  was  going  to  hold  on  this  time.  hearing  max's  voice  fill  up  the  cab  of  the  front  seat  sent  a  wave  of  relief  through  him.  they  were  safe.  safe,  thank  god.  max  had  her  brother  back.  everything  was  going  to  be  okay.  eventually.  then  steve  felt  billy's  hand  on  his  face.  he  didn't  have  a  chance  to  continue  his  apology.  to  tell  billy  everything  he  was  going  to  do  to  earn  his  trust  back  because  billy  was  taking  the  lead.  he  laid  down  the  law,  and  steve  was  smiling  through  his  pain.  his  split  lip  was  bleeding  freshly  as  his  smile  stretched  his  injuries.  wincing  through  it,  he  snickered  past  his  small  whimpers  of  discomfort.  “  you  and  me.  got  it.  ”  he  kissed  billy's  chin,  the  corner  of  his  mouth  and  anywhere  else  he  could  get  his  lips  to  make  contact  while  their  foreheads  touched.  he  worried  slightly  about  getting  his  blood  on  billy's  face,  but  he  needed  to  kiss  him. 

just  like  that,  he  was  gone  again.  heart  beating  like  a  hammer  against  his  ribs,  he  missed  the  connection.  he  realized  it  was  necessarily  to  separate  so  that  they  could  make  good  their  escape,  though.  breathing  through  his  physical  and  mental  anguish,  steve  rolled  in  his  seat  to  look  out  the  windshield.  the  word  left  out  of  billy's  question  echoed  inside  the  safety  of  the  beamer.  it  was  a  scream  in  a  silent  chamber.  DEAD  DEAD  DEAD!  steve  stopped  breathing  for  about  a  second  as  he  processed  how  to  answer.  he  told  billy  about  will.  about  will's  connection  to  the  mindflayer  and  the  powers  he  was  training  himself  to  expand.  about  the  vision  he  experienced  where  he  saw  billy  locked  away  in  that  hospital  after  being  recovered  by  the  soldiers.  “  and  i  knew  because…  i  couldn't  let  you  go.  you  couldn't  be—gone  yet.  not  after  how  we  left  things  and  what  you  did  in  the  mall.  billy,  you  were  so  amazing!  you  were  so  stupid,  too!  why'd  you  do  that,  you  bastard?!  we  could've  figured  something  out  together!  we  could've  destroyed  it  without  it  getting  to  you,  goddammit!  ”  tears  began  mixing  with  steve's  open  wounds,  and  he  carefully  reached  to  wipe  them  away.  hissing  through  the  contact  and  pain,  steve  quieted  again.  “  why'd  you  go  and  do  that…?  ”  he  sighed.  his  hand  reached  to  grip  billy's  thigh.  he  was  here.  this  was  real.  you  and  me. 

How Steve was in the driver's seat this time, taking them down some unpaved hick road. Billy felt it, the aimlessness in his boyfriend's driving. The movement- shaky and uncertain- wanting to go in multiple directions at once. The same restless movement Billy's seen before when Steve's not seeing himself-- not like how Billy sees him. When Steve held him off, it was like a slamming door. Billy's whole body went tense, drawn tight-- waiting for the fucking blow. Watched, silent and still, so deathly still, as Steve pressed his hand to his lips in mourning. Felt the tears burn hot, pricking in his eyes, when Steve called it off. Called them off. The pain hit all over, deeper than any blow Neil gave him. Billy ripped his hand away from Steve, fast, so goddamn fast. Betrayal stinging across his face, robbing him of breath. Steve was talking about safety, about protecting him. As if he hadn't fucking lived with Neil his whole life, as if they weren't saving to get the away from their fathers, together. Billy remembers feeling the persona come out like a shield, covering his body in rigidity. Remembers how he told Steve to fuck off. How he climbed out of the bmw- leaving the imprint of his body on the passenger seat behind- and slammed the door. How he walked home on some shitty dirt road. Alone.

That's how they left it. Billy wishes that wasn't how they left it. Days later, Billy was still alone, on another back road, paved this time. By some abandoned factory, Billy doesn't remember what it was, exactly. He blacks that memory out. Most of it. As much as he can. The memory of the day that thing took him. Dragged his body down, and took, took, took.

But now, the only thing that's in Billy's head is the way Steve looked at him just before he told him to drive away from the hospital: 'You and me. Got it.' You and me, heavy with meaning, laced with Steve's mouth all over him, in him. Steve's hands, pressing their bodies closer. Home, home, home.

Now, in the bmw, Billy's quiet. Turns over to glance at Steve sitting in the passenger seat. Brows pinch, worry lines forming. Because Steve's not breathing. "Steve? Steve!" Billy's sick, fucking sick with worry. Afraid he's gonna die. Like he's gonna slip outta consciousness and never come back. Never come home to him. But Steve comes back, starts talking. Tells Billy everything. Doesn't leave anything out. And Billy's choking up. Losing it right there in the car. Because that Byers kid had one vision that could have easily been discarded in the same way Billy's life had been discarded, but Steve believed it. And he came for him. Planned the whole escape. Organized those little shits. Planted his feet. Drew the goddamn charge.

Like the leader Billy knew Steve was. Full of heart.

Tears roll down his face. Billy blinks heavily, rapidly, brings a hand to his face. Wipes the tears from his cheeks. Sees Steve's blood that transfers onto his hand, mixing with his salty tears. A sob cracks open from his chest. Billy shakes his head as Steve keeps talking about how he couldn't let him go, how he was amazing (oh, Stevie, no, I wasn't). But the thing that does it, the thing that breaks Billy is the pain in Steve's voice, grieving over the why, gripping his thigh-- tight, like he wasn't letting go. Steve's hand is cold, and Steve's always been cold. But not this cold. Not like this.

Hell, never like this again.

Billy drops gears. Pulls off the road, wheels chewing up gravel and dirt, and parks the bmw in a safe space. Private. Tucked away, far away from the hospital. And it's like there's no time between the moment Billy cuts the engine and the moment he's leaning over the console, arms reaching out, exposing the bruises from the tubes the military had stuck in his wrists and the bend at his elbows. Billy's hands cup either side of Steve's face. Gentle, so gentle, and warm. Thumbs catch every tear that slips from Steve's face, ensuring they never reach his open wounds. "I wasn't- fuck. Stevie. I wasn't amazing. I was scared. Alone. That thing--" Billy closes his eyes for a moment, tears still escaping through long lashes. "It hurt me, Steve. Took me. Forced me t'do things I didn't want to do. And it showed me that it was gonna kill everyone. You... Max... everyone. I couldn't. I couldn't fuckin' let it happen." He leans in, rests his forehead against Steve's. "It was gonna get that girl, and then it'd all be over." Billy still didn't even know her name. "There wasn't time for plans. Not then. It was either her, and it all ends. Or me, and--" Here comes the reality. "Everything goes on."

❝  alright,  well…  ❞  steve's  instantly  defensive  when  billy  criticizes  his  babysitting  abilities.  ❝  first  of  all,  you  dropped  the  ball  first,  right?  i  mean,  she  wouldn't  be  here  if  she  was  back  home  like  i'm  guessing  she's  supposed  to  be,  so  careful  about  throwing  stones  there,  hot  shot.  secondly,  i  didn't  ask  for  this  gig  like  i  said,  but  i'll  be  damned  if  i'm  gonna  step  back  and  let  something  happen  to  these  kids.  especially  if  that  means  standing  between  max  and  her  pigheaded  brother.  it's  not  like  we  ever  did  what  we  were  supposed  to  do  all  the  time  when  we  were  their  age.  i  still  collect  my  fair  share  of  flack  from  my…  asshole  of  a  dad,  but  i  was  doing  stupid  stuff.  this  is—it's  different  than  any  of  that.  she's  just  being  a  good  frien—  ❞ 

what  did  billy  say?  burn  the  tunnel?!  oh,  god.  he  was  as  bad  as  the  geek  squad.  tongue  pressed  tightly  to  the  back  of  his  teeth,  steve  poised  to  say  his  increasingly  popular  catchphrase  sweeping  this  whole  experience:  ❝  n—no,  no,  no,  see.  we're  trying  not  to  get  close  to  the  tunnels.  we  have  to  stay  put,  get  it?  we  have  to  wait  for  word  back  from  joyce  and  hopper  and—and  ❞  what  the  hell  was  he  doing  now?  steve  eyes  followed  the  languid  movement  of  billy…  taking  his  jacket  off?  his  mostly  exposed  chest  became  more  prominent  with  the  action.  bare,  bronzed  skin  framed  by  the  crimson  of  his  shirt.  both  looked…  really  soft  but  also  firm  and  flattering  to  his  physique.  he'd  never  wore  anything  like  that  to  school.  form  fitting  jeans,  sure,  but—steve  shook  himself  out  of  his  thoughts.  was  billy  getting  ready  to  fight?

steve  didn't  want  to  FLINCH  when  billy  leaned  in.  leaning  back  the  taddest  bit  didn't  count  as  flinching.  the  distance  allowed  his  eyes  to  fall  to  the  subtle  motion  of  billy's  proposal  as  the  words  left  his  lips.  watching  them  manifest  didn't  deter  steve's  growing  confusion.  ❝  how  are  we  gonna  keep  her  from—hey!  wait!  ❞  one  second,  billy  was  planted  in  front  of  steve's  face,  invading  his  space  and  talking  about  facing  the  monsters  head  on.  hell  or  high  water  type  shit.  was  he  somewhat  AGREEING  with  steve  about  keeping  the  kids  out  of  trouble?  did  he…  believe  him?  harrington  was  almost  certain  he  could  hear  the  twilight  zone  theme  music  in  the  distance.  completely  captivated  by  this  shift  in  their  relationship,  he  missed  when  billy  went  around  him  and  into  the  byers  house. 

he  skidded  to  a  halt,  nearly  missing  plowing  into  hargrove's  back  when  he  stopped  dead.  no  fireworks,  but  there  was  a  pause.  without  realizing,  he's  following  billy's  puzzled  gaze  around  the  place  to  all  the  drawings  will  made  of  the  tunnels.  the  childish  crayon  scribbles  looked  fittingly  creepy  and  doom  provoking.  ❝ i  told  you.  there's  things  going  on  here  you  don't  understand.  YET.  ❞  steve  patted  billy's  shoulder  as  he  came  around  him  and  further  into  the  byers  living  room.  ❝  your  plan,  it's  not  bad  actually.  if  you  guys  PROMISE  to  stick  your  butts  here  and  wait  for  a  response  from  hopper,  ❞  steve  pointed  his  finger  around  the  semi-circle  of  kids  staring  back  at  him.  his  eyes  were  hard  and  his  other  hand  had  returned  to  his  hip.  the  universal  sign  for  i'm  in  charge.  ❝  billy  and  me  can  go  down  to  the  patch  where  hopper  found  the  tunnels.  we'll  take  some  gasoline  and  light  the  place  up.  those  things  will  be  coming  for  will  when  they  try  to  break  his  connection  with  the  mind  flayer.  it'll  give  the  others  a  fighting  chance  to  save  him.  ❞

Jesus, this guy's throwing him for a loop. Billy's burning at both ends, almost begging him to make up his goddamn mind. Because no sooner is Steve calling him pigheaded and leaning into this bravado defensiveness does he start looking at him. Billy's eyes drop, following Steve's line of sight directly to his chest. "Mmm," he hums. Deep. Low in his chest. "Cat got your tongue, pretty boy?" And it's not mean, but it's full of something. Energy Billy can't dispel. So he's gotta throw it somewhere. He breathes in, deep. Wishes for just one moment that they weren't here. That Neil hadn't just hit him across the face. That Karen hadn't eaten him up with her gaze. That Max wasn't in a house that she shouldn't be in, if Billy wants to live to see another day. That Steve wasn't standing between him and his sister. "Shit, Harrington. If you wanted me t'stay with you, lead with that next time, all right?" Somehow, Billy brings his voice down, despite the anxiety that's making everything blow through the fucking roof. Maybe it's the fact that Steve's now looking at his lips. Looking at the words that form. Like he's listening to the things that aren't said. And there's something there. Something that makes Billy's heart stir.

Not now, pretty boy, he thinks. You're distracting me from serious shit.

Billy just kinda grins, leaving Steve in bewilderment. Over him. Over the fact that perhaps they have gotten somewhere in whatever the hell this was. Billy doesn't know. But something kinda wakes him up when he feels Steve nearly bump into him. Billy pulls himself outta getting fixated on these drawings. Outta the anger that's burning. Listens to Steve with knitted brows. Confusion colors his face, and he starts a bit when Steve pats his shoulder. Watches as the guy just sort of takes over. Tells the kids how it's gonna go down. And notes, with a flutter of Billy's heart, how easily Steve just... includes him in his plan. 'Billy and me can go down to the patch.'

And that's kinda the beginning and ending to everything.

She can’t get that look on Billy’s face out of her head. My dad can’t find out about this, Dottie.

She hates that she can’t do anything for him. If she thought it would make it better if she ran back into the station, she would. But it won’t. So she can’t. She hates Hopper for having called him. She hates her dad for not having gotten there before that call was made to declare that no more parents needed to be called. She hates Mr. Hargrove for how scared Billy is of him, in a way that she didn’t think Billy would be scared of anyone. She hates that it’s probably because Billy was with her that Hopper had called his dad so fast. And she hates that even if she begged him to, her dad would never go back inside to save Billy; he would never do that for her, and he wouldn’t do it for Billy, either.

The car ride home is long, and he’s mean. Loud, too. She stops listening for the most part, looking out the window and pretending like she can’t hear him. She doesn’t cry: she won’t give him that satisfaction. If she could have trained herself on how to shut off her ears the way she’s trained herself to cut off tears, that would have been ideal, but she can’t; focusing on something else helps drown out his voice to some extent. The more she ignores him the madder he gets about her ignoring him, and she does get some sick satisfaction from that. When they pull into the driveway, he ends with a warning not to wake her mother because this will only upset her, so Dottie makes a point to slam her bedroom door shut loudly behind her. 

The phone on her vanity spends the whole night taunting her. All she wants to do is call Billy to make sure he’s okay, but she knows that if the phone starts ringing at this hour at the Hargrove house it’s not going to help anything. 

Even the next morning she’s not sure that calling would be the right decision. But she could always drive by, right? Throw a pebble at Billy’s window or something. Well she does have to go get her car first. Technically, if she goes by what her dad had told her last night, she’s not supposed to leave the house at all today (his exact words had been ‘until further notice’ like her social life was some sort of public works project he could put on hold whenever he wanted to, but then she’d pointed out that she has a job that he made her get so she had to leave sometime, to which he’d pointed out how stupid it was for her to not know that he meant other than to go to work). But he’s not home. She doubts he’d told her mom that she’s on house arrest, but she doesn’t go around the house looking to see if her mom’s home or not, just pulls on some running clothes that are still cute enough to drive around in after she picks up the Rabbit, and leaves the house. What’s he going to do, anyway, ground her again? Tell her some again what a disappointing embarrassment she is? He’d find some other reason for that even if she stayed home like a good little girl.  

Getting outside does her good,it helps settle and organize the chaos in her head, and it helps wake her up after the sleepless night tossing and turning, fuming, staring at the phone, and worrying. She’s still worrying, running doesn’t help that, but now that she’s out of the house she can actually do something about the stress and anxiety that’s been pent up all night. 

She’s just about there when she sees Billy’s Camaro parked next to the Rabbit; she hadn’t noticed last night that they were parked next to each other, it hadn’t mattered where anyone was parked when they’d gotten the party. But it does matter now. It matters more that she sees Billy standing next to his car. It releases a little of the tension in her shoulders, and she lets out a relieved little breath, slowing her jog down to a walk now that she sees him. “Hey.” He’s not okay, she can tell just by the way he feels more closed off than usual. And there’s something she can’t quite place in the way he’s looking at her, like he’s scanning her, looking for something. 

His gaze doesn't break with Dottie as she comes up to her car. Not once. His eyes are intense (I was fuckin' worried about you), filled to the brim with every moment he wanted to pick up the goddamn phone last night and call Dottie. To make sure she was okay. But the phone in Billy's room is like a plate of food the police offer a suspect during a line of questioning. A loaded thing. A taunt from Neil. Like, go ahead. Make a call, Billy. Make a call like that day in California. A boy, only seven, hiding behind his bed. Clutching a phone. Calling his mom. And Neil listened in. Go ahead, Billy. Call for help. Call Dottie. See what happens. Neil's always on the other line, waiting for Billy to walk into the trap.

He couldn't call her last night. Billy can't call anyone. Voice, taken. That. Is. Right!

Billy's seeing everything, maybe seeing too much. The way the tension drops a bit in Dottie's shoulders. Her exhale-- how it leaves her lungs with relief. And that's good, like that should be a good thing, but everything still feels fucking dire. Billy still feels the undercurrent of something else in Dottie. The things she's not telling him. Not fully. Like what the hell happened last night after Larry dragged her out of the station. Billy winces, once. Feels the grip Larry had on Dottie. It feels like Neil's hand to his face last night. After he sat in the passenger side of his truck during the drive home in nothing but deadly silence.

Neil only ever gets angry at home.

Dottie says she's fine, but Billy frowns. Deep. Pronounced. Unconvinced. He shakes his head. It's a short, abrupt movement. And this is it. The door that cracked open the day Dottie came to him in the parking lot after practice is now nearly wide open. Fine doesn't cut it anymore. So, Billy pushes the final inch of that door, and now it's...

Wide open.

"Yeah? You don't look fine." He pushes off the Camaro. Steps into the threshold. Billy's all too aware of the hypocrisy in his challenge. Realizes if he's pointing it out on her, she'll do the same for him. And maybe that's the only way he can fucking do this. Maybe it's a cry for help. For her to do it, too. Because Larry's words from last night are still ringing in his ears, making him sick. They were Neil's words. And now Dottie's bringing up Neil, looking him over in the same way he looked her over. To check for signs, too. Jesus. He's thinking the worst, like if she's looking him over like that, then what the hell did Larry do to make her react the same way. "Yeah, he came." He draws his tongue over his lip, tries to hide the scab while she's looking at him. But then she's asking if he's okay, and that does it. Billy breaks. His stance, once solid, slips. Shifts his weight on his hips. Takes a half step to the side. Dealt a blow of kindness that knocks him off balance. Billy looks away, like the weight of asking if he's okay is too much to face. Or maybe it's the weight of having never been asked.

and now you got me screamin’ like god damn, throw me to the wolves ‘cause i can be everything you want and more maybe this ain’t who I am

i saved you from the ocean deep but guess i couldn’t save myself

steve  wasn't  sad  to  see  the  ghost  of  billy  fading  from  his  sight.  he  knew  he  would  still  be  there  in  his  dreams.  just  as  he  always  had  been.  before  will  gave  him  the  hope  he  housed  in  the  center  of  his  chest.  the  vision  of  billy's  ultimate  sacrifice  was  gruesome  and  bloody—as  fresh  as  the  night  it  transpired—in  steve's  memory.  he  wouldn't  forget  it.  couldn't  no  matter  how  hard  he  pushed  at  it.  plant  your  feet,  pretty  boy.  king  steve  created  his  own  reality.  with  his  stubborn  streak  and  ingrown  privlidge,  steve  simply  didn't  accept  what  some  said  was  the  end.  because  how  could  it  end?  they'd  only  just  begun.  so  young,  so  strong…  nothing  had  the  power  to  strike  down  hargrove  for  good.  did  it?  harrington's  breath  grew  shallow  whenever  he  let  those  questions  haunt  him.  the  phantoms  were  friendly  at  first.  whispering  sweet,  tender  lies.  sweet  until  the  bitter  flash  of  the  final  blow  shocked  his  system  over  and  over  like  a  recurring  nightmare.  steve  refused  to  accept  that  end.

he  replaced  the  lie  with  all  the  pieces  of  billy  he'd  idly  collected  since  that  first  night.  collecting  them  like  the  shells  that  lurked  in  every  corner  of  the  hargrove-mayfield  household.  steve  heard  once  that  people  didn't  die  if  you  loved  them.  although  he  tried  to  protect  both  of  them  from  the  dangers  of  getting  too  close  to  one  another,  steve  knew  he  loved  billy.  he  knew  it  like  he  just  knew  his  own  eyes  were  brown.  it  was  an  understanding  that  was  part  of  him  from  the  very  beginning.  a  design  touched  by  the  divine  and  as  basic  as  finding  a  lucky  penny  in  the  parking  lot.  always  meant  for  him  if  only  he  chose  to  look  for  it.  boy,  did  billy  make  him  look…  as  stubborn  as  steve  inherently  was,  billy  was  patient  and  tenacious.  once  he  got  harrington's  attention,  he  wouldn't  accept  steve's  gaze  to  wander. 

steve  had  his  excuses,  too.  their  families  were  too  different.  their  dads  were  too  angry.  billy's  future  was  secure  working  with  his  hands  in  a  garage.  steve's  future  was  uncertain  and  headed  for  a  dead  end.  steve  was  haunted  by  those  excuses  after  the  mall.  the  time  he  wasted  pushing  billy  away.  plant  your  feet,  plant  your  feet…  that's  right,  harrington.  run  away!  like  you  always  do. 

billy  couldn't  be  gone  because  steve  had  been  wrong.  he  needed  a  do-over.  he  needed  to  give  himself  another  chance.  he  needed  to  give  billy  a  chance.  billy  came  to  him  in  his  dreams  after  steve  was  finally  able  to  drift  into  sleep  about  a  week  after  the  mall  incident.  it  was  restless  and  fitful,  but  soon  he  could  see  a  figure  cut  against  the  haze.  strong  shoulder,  muscled  legs  and  a  burning  cigarette  that  he  could've  sworn  he  smelled  even  in  his  sleep.  some  nights,  billy  taunted  him.  he  asked  steve  did  he  forget  about  him  so  easily?  some  nights  were  memories.  they  were  back  at  the  lake,  or  they  were  at  the  diner  sharing  a  plate  of  fries  and  a  couple  of  burgers.  whatever  he  did  and  where  ever  he  went,  steve  thought  of  billy.  he  wouldn't  let  billy  go.  he  didn't  pretend  that  his  mistakes  weren't  made.  steve  didn't  repaint  the  past.  he  simply  refused  to  give  up  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  bring  billy  back. 

will's  vision  wasn't  a  wish  that  came  true—it  was  the  news  steve  had  been  waiting  for.  this  billy  looked  different  than  the  one  he  remembered.  he  wasn't  as  bronzed  from  the  sun.  the  defined  muscles  maybe  were  a  bit  more  gaunt.  as  much  as  these  changes  startled  steve,  he  was  sure  that  billy  would  recover.  it's  me,  this  billy  said.  you  got  me.  steve  kept  on  smiling.  he  wouldn't  ever  let  him  go  again. 

blacked  out,  harrington  wasn't  sure  how  much  time  had  passed.  he  felt  sore  and  hollow  when  he  was  starting  to  come  back  to  his  senses.  he  felt  the  absence  of  billy  in  his  dreams,  but  he  was  relieved  to  find  the  real  billy  within  his  grasp.  his  arms  moved  sluggishly,  but  he  still  managed  to  reach  for  billy.  he  knew  the  smell  of  the  interior  of  his  beamer  before  his  eyes  were  fully  cleared  to  see  that  they  were  safe  inside  it.  the  walkie  was  situated  on  the  dashboard,  static  filling  the  space  with  dustin's  frantic  instructions  that  the  rest  of  them  had  made  it  out  of  the  facility  and  were  heading  back  to  base.  the  kids  weren't  allowed  by  harrington  to  enter  the  main  secured  area  of  the  hospital,  but  they  caused  a  distraction  for  steve  to  infiltrate.  nancy  was  waiting  in  the  station  wagon  to  be  their  getaway  driver  with  robin. 

❝  we  made  it.  gotta  tell  ‘em.  ❞  steve  muttered.  ❝  we  made  it,   right?  ❞  his  head  lulled  to  the  passenger’s  window.  the  cool  caress  of  the  glass  chilled  his  fevered  skin.  ❝  you  gonna  be  able  to  drive  us,  captain  america?  we  need  to  get  the  hell  away  from  here.  like  as  far  away  as  we  can.  ❞  steve  gripped  billy's  hand  in  his.  he  wanted  to  cry  at  the  feeling  of  being  able  to  touch  him  again.  ❝  oh,  my  god.  ❞  he  whispered,  almost  brokenly.  gulping  through  his  dried  cotton  mouth,  steve  turned  his  face  against  the  fabric  of  the  seat  to  hide  his  shamed  face.  ❝  can  you  ever  forgive  me?  ❞  now  was  not  the  time  to  air  out  the  mistakes  he  made.  they  needed  to  get  someplace  safe  first,  but  steve  was  still  a  little  loopy  from  the  fight.  and  the  constant  companionship  of  his  grief  all  this  time. 

But he gets them both to the bmw. Steve's baby. The one he let Billy drive to Lover's Lake the day it all changed. Love, blossoming. His hand reaching out, and Steve's hand reaching back. Laced fingers. Slotting into place like it was the only thing that made sense. Until the day Steve pushed Billy away. Like he was being a goddamn hero about it. Sealed with that bullshit line of how he's thinking about him first. To keep him safe. Safe. It's a joke, like that's a real fucking joke. What in Billy's life has ever been safe? And oh, Billy threw it back at Steve that day. Burning, like, fuck you, pretty boy, and your restless feet! Restless mind. Movin' always movin', so that Steve couldn't see that an uncertain future and an angry past had nothing on them. And the only thing that was ever safe in Billy's life...

Were the days they slipped out, knocking knees under the table as they swapped burgers and fries. The nights where Steve's house became a home, how the bed had sides now-- Steve's side and Billy's side. The car rides. The mix tape Billy made (the one Steve cried over because it was love, love, love). The feel of Steve on his chest as Billy read to him. The way they lit each other's cigarettes first before lighting their own. Steve's hands setting Billy's hair in curlers. The love in Billy's expertly sprayed puff of Farah Fawcett in just the right place for Steve's signature swoop of pretty brown hair.

But the thing that killed Billy the most is he knew Steve never meant it. Like, the guy's stubborn, so goddamn stubborn it's infuriating. It stopped him from seeing what was right there in front of him. Which is why Billy was always the one with tenacity. Because he saw Steve. He saw Steve's potential. Believed in him more that Steve believed in himself. And once he opened up and let Billy into his heart, then Billy knew. He knew.

Which is why Billy chokes out a sob the second they're in the car. Safe. Billy's at the wheel, and it's like his life is given back to him. There's a future now. Not a numb, agonizing wait for death. Trapped in four white walls and chained by tubes sticking out of his skin. And it's a future Steve went to bat for-- that Steve got broken and bruised for.

Like goddamn, Steve Harrington planted his feet. For him.

Billy hears the little shits over the radio. Saying they made it out. He swallows, steels his breathing. Grabs the walkie faster than he thought possible. "Max. You there?" There's static, and then Max's voice comes through. "Billy. I'm here. Billy, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Billy, please-- get out of there." Billy throws his head back onto the head rest, looks up at the ceiling of the bmw. Tears stream down his face as he closes his eyes. "I'm comin', Max. You get the hell outta here, all right?" And then, Steve's talking, and it's a lot. More than Billy can process. How the hell. Was this all Steve's plan? "We made it, baby. I told 'em just--"

Steve's hand is in his, gripping it like he's not letting go. And it's everything and it's all there is and it's bringing Billy back. "Steve." Billy squeezes his hand, leans over the center console to cup his face with the other. "Hey. Look at me, Stevie. Baby." His eyes wash over Steve's face. Sees all the bruises, all the shame. Billy softens. The tears are still flowing down his face, but he softens. He strokes his thumb over Steve's cheek. Slow, gentle. Like he's healing the bruises and wiping away the shame.

And then Billy gets serious. Loving. Firm. "You listen t'me. You're here now, all right? And I'm here. That's how it's gonna be. You and me. Got that?" Billy closes the distance. Presses their foreheads together. Billy's chest cracks open. His heart's beating-- full of the words he still needs to say. But they're in the bmw outside the hospital, and Steve is bruised and beaten. And Billy's body is tired, but screaming get to safety.

"We're gettin' the hell outta here, pretty boy. Hang on." He leans back into the seat. Not sure if he's ready to drive, but fuck this, he's doing it. Presses the clutch. Turns the ignition. Shifts into gear. Starts driving. Puts that goddamn hospital in the rearview mirror. For a moment, it's all rubber tires on the road. And then, the question that's still beating in his heart.

I think this is all predominantly Neil's orchestration. He wants Susan for himself, and by keeping her on a tighter leash, he isolates her and further reduces her agency. He wants Susan to feel as though Max is being provided for/cared for, so Neil does things like indulges Max with more material goods (see here) and then assigns Billy to be Max's caretaker so she doesn't worry about her. This, of course, fosters resentment between Billy and Max, and keeps every family member isolated and/or at odds with each other, leaving them essentially powerless and Neil as the central point of power and control.

Billy becomes brother and guardian and mom and dad to Max. And it is a forced thing; it's a very complicated dynamic that has many layers going on, but at the end of the day, it's always been Billy standing up and holding everything back for her to the point where Max can't really comprehend the idea of Billy dead on the floor because he's always just been there (read more here).

But ANYWAY my point to this is I think it all becomes very clear how much Susan was not in Max's life once Billy is gone. Because once Billy is gone, she's just left on her own. She's taking the bus, she virtually fends for herself (makes food, cleans up the trailer, takes out the trash, takes care of her mother, who's passed out drunk on the couch), her grades are slipping and Susan doesn't care, she's depressed and Susan doesn't acknowledge it, she offers herself up as bait for a monster in a suicide plot of her own making with Lucas as the only one in the group who really protests her idea, and then ultimately, she falls victim to a monster who preys on her because she's alone. And all of that happened because Billy died and couldn't be there for her. Which also just kind of shows you how parentified Billy was, too. Like nobody else in that family was doing anything.

And yes, I said previously (read here) that we also know canonically that Billy is the only person who sides with Max's agency, saying she's old enough that she doesn't need a full-time babysitter. And that means that yes, he does let her do her own thing and live her life, but the only times we see him intervene were when her actions would directly cause Neil to lose it and beat him. And that is when he tries to course correct for them both to get out of the dangers and consequences of living in an abusive household. Because the reality is, that despite Max's Gold Child treatment where she is largely sheltered from the abuse going on, I think Billy always has this perception that one day, those things aren't going to protect her, either.

And he would have been right because look what happens to Max in S4. She gets abandoned, preyed upon, tortured, and killed (briefly).