a latte is my serenity

From his spot on the second floor, despite the fireworks being hurled down at the Mind Flayer by various members of the party, Steve can see Billy hovering over El, who has her hand on his cheek as she cries. He can’t hear what is being said, but he sure as hell can see that determined look in Billy’s eyes. It's not the kind of look where he's going to get into some petty fight with a classmate. No, it's the kind where he is about to do something incredibly stupid, something that means life or death.

“Stop it,” Steve gasps, watching in horror as Billy stands and begins to take on the Mind Flayer himself. It would have been an impressive sight, one teenager holding off that monstrosity, but the tentacle thing that jabbed him in the side said otherwise. He vaguely hears Robin say something, however, all he hears is the blood rushing past his ears as he runs down the powered-off escalator steps toward Billy. By the time he reaches the scene, Billy’s got six tentacles stabbing him in the abdomen, two in the front and four in the back. Steve’s eyes widen despite the pain that radiates from the left side of his face as the Mind Flayer lifts Billy up. No, no, no.

“Billy!” he screams, the gut-wrenching feeling that there’s nothing he can do finally starting to sink in. Then it happens. The Mind Flayer opens its mouth and out comes one more limb, striking one final blow to Billy’s chest. Faintly, he hears Max screech out Billy’s name, yet he could only focus on the sickening squelch of Billy’s body succumbing to the brute force of the impalement before the Mind Flayer’s pulling all its limbs away, dropping Billy from its grasp. Somehow Steve pushes the shock aside long enough to catch Billy before he hits the ground. Steve cradles Billy in his arms as he gets knocked back onto his ass, and gives his body a once over. There are so many wounds from the limbs and the many teeth on each one, he isn’t sure where to start.There’s so much blood. Too much blood. 

“Stevie,” Billy gasps out, breathing wet and labored. Tears are streaming down both their faces and Steve shakes his head, putting a hand over Billy’s main chest wound to apply pressure to try something, anything he can to save him. Billy can’t die, not here, not like this. The look on Billy’s face, the sad, tired eyes say it all, though: this is it. Steve sobs and does his best to hug Billy and kiss the side of his face. 

“I l-love you,” Steve whispers, reaching up to caress his cheek. Billy only has the energy to nod minutely, however, that doesn’t stop Steve. Billy deserved to know he wasn’t alone in this cold world, that he is loved, “I love you, Bee, a-and I always will.”

“Me too,” Billy manages, but the gurgling in his lungs is all too apparent. Whimpering, Steve rests his forehead against Billy’s. They had plans. They were supposed to go to California, get that shitty little house near the beach, adopt alley cats, and wake each other up with kisses laced with stale morning breath. They were supposed to have decades worth of holidays and anniversaries, they were supposed to get grey hair together, reminisce on their lives when they grew old, and get a plot next to each other that their family would leave beautiful flowers on. Steve wasn’t supposed to do this alone, he can’t. Not without Billy.

As the Mind Flayer begins to stumble around, Steve instinctively shields Billy with his body to protect him from any rubble and fallout. When it’s finally quiet, Steve looks up and sees the giant thing on the ground, dead. Good riddance, fucker. He turns his attention back to Billy, thumb brushing softly over his cheek, as he takes a breath, Steve pulls away so he can peer into those beautiful baby blues, “It’s okay… you’re going to be okay.”

In the background, Mike is hugging and consoling El, and Max is approaching slowly from the entrance of Scoops, too in shock to say anything. She falls to her knees, making Steve scoot back some so she can say what she’d like. Billy’s breaths are getting fainter with each exhale and each time, it breaks Steve’s heart a little bit more. She puts her hands on Billy’s shoulders, as if that will rejuvenate him. Billy coughs and splutters more blood, eyebrows furrowed as he looks up at Max, fighting off the inevitable.

“Billy... Billy, get up, please. Billy, get up, please, please…” Max begs him, tears streaming down her face as she puts her hands on his shoulders, coaxing him to stand. 

Using the last of his energy to speak, Billy looks between Max and Steve, “I’m sorry,” he whispers before letting out one final exhale. No. Please… Eyes widening, Steve’s lower lip quivers as he sees the life vanish behind the eyes he has fallen in love with more and more every single day, knowing they will be the same eyes that haunt him for the rest of his days. 

Max begins to shake his shoulders, “Billy… Billy, wake up. Please,” she sobs, falling back into El’s embrace, leaving Billy in Steve’s arms. Steve lets out a shaky breath as he pulls Billy in closer, burying his face in the crook of his neck. “Come back,” he whispered around a sob, holding Billy tight, “I can’t do this without you.”

Steve can smell the traces of Billy’s cologne, the Marlboro reds, and the fucking aquanet. He can also smell the metallic smell that comes with blood, and the salt from sweat and tears. 

If anyone had asked Steve what the worst day of his life was, he would have said Saturday, November 12, 1983. Now, it would, without a shadow of a doubt, be Thursday, July 4, 1985, the day the other half of him was lost forever.

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