It’s a different kind of fear, the cold prickles that settle deep into the lining of each of Robin’s organs. The world throbs around her like an echo, and her head aches — her whole body aches. Beaten and sore from all of the bullshit, all of the running around and fighting, and she’s tired. So tired.
But none of that matters. Not when that familiar chill fills the air and a sickly dread sucks the air out of her lungs.
Not when it’s Steve.
For a while now, all memory of the asshole she knew back in Click’s class has been forgotten. Pushed aside. Gathering dust. Replaced entirely by the goofy, snarky guy with piss-poor flirting skills that she’s grown to love. Because it’s just so easy to love him.
The dark, looming figure before her, standing at the back door to Hell itself with an axe clutched tight in his fist, is not either of those guys.
She didn’t think that Steve’s face could look so angry. So hateful.
“Stevie,” Billy tries, raising his hands slowly and reaching out. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”
“What the fuck’s wrong with him?” Eddie breathes.
Clutches a hand over his abdomen, crimson seeping between each of his fingers and dripping down his chin. It’s staining Robin’s clothes from where she’s tucked under his arm, supporting his weight, but she ignores it. Watches carefully as Steve stands to his full height and steps off of the mattress with a creak.
“It’s the Mind-Flayer,” Robin manages. Takes a careful step back towards the door. “It has to be, right?”
“Steve, you have to fight it, do you hear me?” Billy says.
He dares to step closer. Extends his hands further, disregarding the rapid rise and fall of the brunet’s chest and the tightness of his jaw.
Even next to Billy, Steve suddenly seems to tower over everything. Suddenly seems so scary that Robin has to force herself to keep her eyes on him as they well with tears.
With a quick motion, he rears the axe back and takes a deadly swing, the handle catching in Billy’s grip with a painful thunk.
“Please, Steve—“
A left hook cracks across Billy’s jaw and sends him crashing to the floor.
“You think your pathetic ass stands a chance, Hargrove?” Steve hisses. Plunges the axe down and misses when Billy rolls out of the way, splitting the tile and letting go of the handle once and for all. “All of the pity fucks have really been going to your head, huh?”
He steps over the blond. Takes a fistful of his shirt and brings his knuckles down hard on the bridge of his nose. Snaps the cartilage and makes Robin sick to her stomach.
“Don’t listen, Bill,” Eddie rasps. “That’s not him.”
“Get out of here,” Billy pleads.
Catches another sock to the face and spits a mixture of blood and bile onto the floor.
“No.”
“We can’t leave you,” Robin protests.
“Get the fuck out and go find Nancy. Now.”
One more crack rips through the air and Robin has to clap a hand over her mouth to keep from vomiting, turning her face away from the gruesome display in front of her. It takes Eddie pulling her towards the doorway to make her head stop spinning.
“They always leave in the end, don’t they?” Steve muses. “Don’t worry, Billy bug, you still have me.”
He catches the fist that Billy tries to swing at him and drops to his knees, right over Billy’s chest, and pins his arms to the floor with an unforgiving grip.
“Fuck you.”
“Mm, I think I’ll pass. You’re not really my type.”
“I swear, when I get my hands around that slimy, disgusting neck of yours, I’m gonna wring it ‘till your fuckin’ eyes pop.”
The sickly smirk that splits across Steve’s face is almost inhuman. He leans down. Collects both of Billy’s wrists in one hand, pins them above his head, and lightly traces the cut of his jaw with his free hand. Almost lovingly.
Thunder roars in the distance. Billy can faintly hear the screeches coming from within the gate just a few feet away, and something else. Behind him.
The scrape of gravel and screaming voices — Dustin and Erica. All of the words are muddled in the background. Unintelligible.
“Y’know something, love?” Steve coos. So close that the cold puff of air on Billy’s cheek spawns goosebumps on his skin. “I still love Nance.”
“Bullshit.”
A hand wraps around his throat and he chokes as his windpipe is smashed between the tile and Steve’s unnaturally cold palm.
“It’s true. You’re nothing but a rebound that never got the hint to get out of my bed the morning after.”
“No,” Billy rasps. “You— you love me. You love Eddie. You say it so much that I almost get sick of hearing it, Stevie.”
“Y’know, now that you mention it…” The grip tightens around his throat. Makes Billy’s eyes burn as Steve’s lips brush against his ear. “Eddie’s my favorite. He at least has a purpose in this world, but you?” Fire spreads in his throat as he writhes helplessly. “Your only purpose is to die.”
“Steve— Steve would never say that.”
“Die believing a lie if you want, Hargrove. Save Eddie a spot, will you? I’ll be coming for him next.”
Black starts to overtake his vision, tunneling around the sadistic grin that looms over him. It’s funny because Billy still can’t help but think that Steve is beautiful. That he’ll be glad to see him soon, wherever he goes next. The real him.
There’s a click, and then a boom, and Billy’s lungs fill again.
Steve has fallen back. Clutches at his shoulder weakly, blood spurting between his fingers as he fixes a glare at the door.
Standing in the open doorway is Nancy Wheeler, revolver in her grip. The look on her face says that was a warning shot.
“You’re an idiot if you think we’ll let that asshole take you, Steve.” She pulls the hammer back with a click. Sets her jaw and furrows her brows. “Now come back to us.”
