[There are some blessed consequences of being out of Hawkins: Billy gets to keep himself busy. Two jobs, an unlimited credit card, and his own place? It's the closest he's been to heaven, even after dying. The future is strange, sure, but it's easy enough to adapt. He learns all the things he can't say or do anymore and truthfully, he's too tired to rebel against it. There's no one here to hold a grudge against; there's no fists to take behind closed doors, no disparaging remarks at the crack of dawn before the school run.
It's a bittersweet freedom, and he runs with it.
It's almost perfect. He's almost a new man, freed from the shackles of his past, except Steve is here and maybe they both expect Billy to be the same old asshole he's always been. Billy's been trying, anyway, because it's familiar - but it's exhausting, too. He's realising he just wants to drink a beer, smoke a joint, just be a normal guy for five minutes. Maybe he's been avoiding Steve in the interim while he gets his shit together. Maybe it's almost three weeks of it before he feels like he can do a conversation without having to put all his energy into being a tough guy. The point is, he's trying, and fuck, he can't avoid Steve forever. Literally can't, because it makes him itch. Makes him tense and jittery.
This crush just won't go, and he hates that he's not even sure if it's a be my friend you condescending dick or a shove your dick down my throat kind of crush. It's agonising.
It's after 7 when Billy knocks on his door, a six pack and some of the better weed tucked into his back pocket. There is also a pizza, which is as close to a present Billy's willing to splurge on while he tries to figure this out. ] Hey, [he says, like it's nothing, and he does this all the time. ] Peace offering. Times three.
[ It's not the worst parallel world or dimension or whatever that he's been in, the credit card certainly helps with buoying his opinion there, but it's the fact Eddie is around that mostly convinces Steve they have things semi-decent while figuring out (or waiting) how to go home. There's also the sex, that really came as a surprise but honestly of the best kind. Steve has no idea what he's supposed to define his sexuality as so for now it exists as Women-And-Eddie, and he hasn't gone out of his way to explore that.
Billy's around too, of course. That's good for Max, Steve guesses, since she needs her big brother. Needs to work shit out with him, more to the point, because she was messed up way before Vecna marked her. Again, he doesn't think too hard about that either. Billy is an amorphous blob in the corner of Steve's mind because the guy can take care of himself and Steve is also busy helping Eddie adjust to not being a pile of murdered minced meat. Of course they will all go home together, he thinks, they just don't ... hang out.
Never did.
That's how three weeks alone with Eddie means Steve opens the door in a Metallica tshirt tucked into his jeans, open-mouthed in surprise as he swallows a Yeah, yeah, I'm wearing it when he finds Billy Hargrove on the doorstep of his hotel apartment. With pizza. And beer. ]
Oh. Hargrove, hiiii. [ A peace offering? Steve blinks from the food to Billy, frowning. ] You ... brought me dinner?
[It's the shirt that starts the cogs. Sure, he'd known Eddie Munson was here. He'd seen bits and pieces here and there, but Billy has other drug contacts now. Has other shit to worry about. He hadn't known Steve and Eddie were tight enough to swap shirts, even if they were shacked up together.
Three weeks doesn't feel like a long time, but man, they're still teenagers. He's still stupid. ] It's pizza, but it does the trick.
[He tries not to act like he feels stupid. Neutral, like the Metallica shirt is the kind of anomaly that means nothing, and that he doesn't feel at all jealous or weird about it. Just perfectly fucking normal. ] Can I come in, or do I have to eat this by myself and do three extra hours at the gym because you wouldn't share?
[Fuck. The question - that horrible little curiosity - feels answered now. He wishes Eddie had a car he could key or some shit, which isn't exactly fair, because Eddie had been cool. Weird, loud and fucking chatty, but he'd been cool any time Billy needed something fast.
This is karma, probably. He would feel humbled if his brain weren't bottoming out into the abyss. ]
[ Since it means so much to him. Steve eyeballs him as he steps aside to let Billy into his apartment, absently glancing over to where his space-age phone is charging in case he needs it. ]
You can put it on the table.
[ It's an open-plan apartment but he'd rather direct Billy over to the couch than the bed. Yikes.
[Ah. There's a whole kitchen, and a bed, and jesus christ, he's not going to be a pussy about this. It's fine. He's fine. ]
Sorry, [for the zoning out. He puts the pizza down, sits and spreads like he is super comfortable and utterly ease in this apartment, with its one double bed, and Steve in Eddie Munson's shirt. The sixpack goes next to him, a hand resting on it, and he taps.] Just had time to think. Figured I might as well try and coexist peacefully now instead of waiting six months like a pussy.
[Co-exist. Existing is pain. He may be so, so tired, but at least being an asshole didn't hurt. He keeps tapping. ] Figured pizza and beer would be a good ice breaker. I brought weed in case I had to butter you up.
[ He's not (not!!) going to be intimidated by the sight of Billy Hargrove smearing himself all over Steve's space. So, he walks over to unhook a beer and perches on the far armrest of the couch, cracking the tab to take a sip. ]
I haven't seen you in weeks, what exactly are you apologising for?
I don't know, man. I hate small talk and awkward silences, so I guess I'd rather we didn't do that if we ever meet buying groceries or whatever.
[Being dead again would be easier than this - ] Just eat the pizza man. It's the good shit.
[Beer isn't enough: he needs to be so high he's unconscious.
He breathes out, runs a hand through his curls and sighs, leaning forward to open the box. He grabs a slice, takes the first bite because sure, if he were Steve maybe he'd suspect he'd fucked with it. Maybe. ]
[ It would probably be a little obvious if he went to grab his phone and message Munson about this. Staring for a moment longer, he takes a piece of pizza and chews it in silence. Sips his beer.
And when he can't stand it any longer, ]
Dude, are you lonely or something? I know this dimension is freaking weird, do you want some company?
Jesus fuck. [This is mortifying. He's not sure what he envisioned here; some fantasy scenario that ended with them laughing, shoulder to shoulder? Like friends? Not being called out within the first ten minutes, that's for sure. ]
No, you asshat, I'm not lonely. [He has Tinder, okay. ] I can like you enough to bring you pizza without being desperate, Harrington, god. Give yourself some credit.
That's the first thing you've said that doesn't sound unhinged.
[ You feel grounding. Eddie's been thriving but he said something similar and Steve doesn't like to leave the guy alone for too many days at a time in case he gets in his own head again about being batfood. Maybe Billy's having a similar crisis about being shish-kabob.
Damn, Steve really is babysitting a bunch of dead guys now, isn't he?
Steve gestures to him with his beer. ]
So, what have you been doing for the past three weeks?
[Manuel labour is familiar, at least. Sometimes he pulls a shift at the public pool on the weekend if he isn't exhausted. The other other job is why his Tinder is busy. All great distractions. ]
Kinda messed up that I got brought back to life just so the ladies can watch me haul bricks on the construction site, but I guess someone's gotta do it.
Yeah. [He pauses, fights the urge to grind his teeth a little. ] You too? And Munson?
[It doesn't sound petty, at least. He is curious about the powers thing, even if he has been obtuse and quiet about it, even outside of Steve. He's not sure he wants to talk about it, let alone use it. ]
I don't really wanna talk about it, [he says, and he's surprised by how measured he sounds. How cordial. He reaches for another slice, after finally opening a beer himself. He takes a long sip.
Somewhere in all that, his forehead has moved into a frown. ] Anyway, what did you get?
[ Sure, let Steve offer up all his secrets in exchange for nothing, urgh. Rolling his eyes, he transfers his beer to his left hand and looks at his right. It doesn't actually matter what Steve can do, he thinks, because he can only do it in this dimension and it will probably vanish when he leaves. It's not exactly a government secret (like El). ]
Munson called it empathic summoning, but it doesn't always work right.
[Just a lot of words he knows individually but together he has no context, and also Munson again. This is unfortunately going to be a thing, he realises. Anyway - ]
I don't think you want me to do that. [ Taking a swig of his beer, he wipes off his mouth with a wrist and shakes his head. ] That's where the empath bit comes in, it's not always what I need.
[ Steve mutters Fine, fine, setting his drink down. He really hopes a car doesn't appear ... and he has a feeling it won't. Steve holds out his hand and says dismally, ]
Axe.
[ An axe does not appear, which is unsurprising, but there's a sharp hiss and something pops into existence in his hand as he winces, the sharp scent of ozone in the space around them. He brings the object in to have a look, confusion marring his brow. ]
It's a photo of a woman. Do you know her?
[ It's a pretty woman in a white dress on a beach. ]
[Axe - and he's almost laughing at the idea that either of would need an axe, because really, murder is so much goddamn effort. The display though is mesmerising for the short time it lasts. Then there's the photo, and he knows before Steve turns it around, exactly who it's of.
He reaches for it. Turns it over, and at first he isn't sure what to do. There's a strange sting in his eyes, a horrible little turn in his gut. His finger traces over the figure, and finally, finally he smiles. A real smile. He doesn't lash out; he doesn't scream, or succumb to paranoia (and it's there, always), he just looks at his mother in the dress he last remembers her in, and he smiles. ]
Yeah. [Empathetic. He gets it now. He feels very seen, even if Steve is completely clueless.] Yeah. It's my mom.
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i.
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Billy's around too, of course. That's good for Max, Steve guesses, since she needs her big brother. Needs to work shit out with him, more to the point, because she was messed up way before Vecna marked her. Again, he doesn't think too hard about that either. Billy is an amorphous blob in the corner of Steve's mind because the guy can take care of himself and Steve is also busy helping Eddie adjust to not being a pile of murdered minced meat. Of course they will all go home together, he thinks, they just don't ... hang out.
Never did.
That's how three weeks alone with Eddie means Steve opens the door in a Metallica tshirt tucked into his jeans, open-mouthed in surprise as he swallows a Yeah, yeah, I'm wearing it when he finds Billy Hargrove on the doorstep of his hotel apartment. With pizza. And beer. ]
Oh. Hargrove, hiiii. [ A peace offering? Steve blinks from the food to Billy, frowning. ] You ... brought me dinner?
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Three weeks doesn't feel like a long time, but man, they're still teenagers. He's still stupid. ] It's pizza, but it does the trick.
[He tries not to act like he feels stupid. Neutral, like the Metallica shirt is the kind of anomaly that means nothing, and that he doesn't feel at all jealous or weird about it. Just perfectly fucking normal. ] Can I come in, or do I have to eat this by myself and do three extra hours at the gym because you wouldn't share?
[Fuck. The question - that horrible little curiosity - feels answered now. He wishes Eddie had a car he could key or some shit, which isn't exactly fair, because Eddie had been cool. Weird, loud and fucking chatty, but he'd been cool any time Billy needed something fast.
This is karma, probably. He would feel humbled if his brain weren't bottoming out into the abyss. ]
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[ Since it means so much to him. Steve eyeballs him as he steps aside to let Billy into his apartment, absently glancing over to where his space-age phone is charging in case he needs it. ]
You can put it on the table.
[ It's an open-plan apartment but he'd rather direct Billy over to the couch than the bed. Yikes.
Steve rubs the back of his neck. ]
What brought this on? You okay?
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[Ah. There's a whole kitchen, and a bed, and jesus christ, he's not going to be a pussy about this. It's fine. He's fine. ]
Sorry, [for the zoning out. He puts the pizza down, sits and spreads like he is super comfortable and utterly ease in this apartment, with its one double bed, and Steve in Eddie Munson's shirt. The sixpack goes next to him, a hand resting on it, and he taps.] Just had time to think. Figured I might as well try and coexist peacefully now instead of waiting six months like a pussy.
[Co-exist. Existing is pain. He may be so, so tired, but at least being an asshole didn't hurt. He keeps tapping. ] Figured pizza and beer would be a good ice breaker. I brought weed in case I had to butter you up.
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[ He's not (not!!) going to be intimidated by the sight of Billy Hargrove smearing himself all over Steve's space. So, he walks over to unhook a beer and perches on the far armrest of the couch, cracking the tab to take a sip. ]
I haven't seen you in weeks, what exactly are you apologising for?
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[Being dead again would be easier than this - ] Just eat the pizza man. It's the good shit.
[Beer isn't enough: he needs to be so high he's unconscious.
He breathes out, runs a hand through his curls and sighs, leaning forward to open the box. He grabs a slice, takes the first bite because sure, if he were Steve maybe he'd suspect he'd fucked with it. Maybe. ]
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And when he can't stand it any longer, ]
Dude, are you lonely or something? I know this dimension is freaking weird, do you want some company?
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No, you asshat, I'm not lonely. [He has Tinder, okay. ] I can like you enough to bring you pizza without being desperate, Harrington, god. Give yourself some credit.
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I didn't mean it like that, goddamn it. I meant lonely for friends.
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[he has friends Steve - ] - Sorry. I have friends, but we're like. I don't know - it doesn't feel real, right? You feel grounding. Like reality.
[Eddie too, he guesses. Definitely Max, but there's no way he's becoming besties with his kid sister.] This way too deep for pizza, fuck me.
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[ You feel grounding. Eddie's been thriving but he said something similar and Steve doesn't like to leave the guy alone for too many days at a time in case he gets in his own head again about being batfood. Maybe Billy's having a similar crisis about being shish-kabob.
Damn, Steve really is babysitting a bunch of dead guys now, isn't he?
Steve gestures to him with his beer. ]
So, what have you been doing for the past three weeks?
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[Manuel labour is familiar, at least. Sometimes he pulls a shift at the public pool on the weekend if he isn't exhausted. The other other job is why his Tinder is busy. All great distractions. ]
Kinda messed up that I got brought back to life just so the ladies can watch me haul bricks on the construction site, but I guess someone's gotta do it.
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[ Weirdly a comfort that Billy has been, predictably, being Billy-like even if he is a bit upset and guarded. ]
Did you discover you had any superpowers once you got here?
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[It doesn't sound petty, at least. He is curious about the powers thing, even if he has been obtuse and quiet about it, even outside of Steve. He's not sure he wants to talk about it, let alone use it. ]
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[ Not specifying what exactly that is, powers or not. He's dismissive of Eddie to keep him out of the spotlight. ]
What can you do?
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Somewhere in all that, his forehead has moved into a frown. ] Anyway, what did you get?
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Munson called it empathic summoning, but it doesn't always work right.
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[Just a lot of words he knows individually but together he has no context, and also Munson again. This is unfortunately going to be a thing, he realises. Anyway - ]
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[ It's shitty, ninety-percent of the time. Unless a life is in peril, Steve can't exactly control the items that appear. ]
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[Immediately necessary, but he doesn't choose - god, that sounds just as contrary as Steve is sometimes. It's perfect actually. ]
Show me, then. I wanna see what is immediately necessary right now.
[Literally a muzzle for Billy. ]
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[ Pointedly raising his brows. ]
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[God he wishes - but less conspicuous is his St. Christopher, which is missing. Buried with him, he hopes. Or with his mom. ]
Come on. Summon dirty fries, that's a necessity.
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Axe.
[ An axe does not appear, which is unsurprising, but there's a sharp hiss and something pops into existence in his hand as he winces, the sharp scent of ozone in the space around them. He brings the object in to have a look, confusion marring his brow. ]
It's a photo of a woman. Do you know her?
[ It's a pretty woman in a white dress on a beach. ]
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He reaches for it. Turns it over, and at first he isn't sure what to do. There's a strange sting in his eyes, a horrible little turn in his gut. His finger traces over the figure, and finally, finally he smiles. A real smile. He doesn't lash out; he doesn't scream, or succumb to paranoia (and it's there, always), he just looks at his mother in the dress he last remembers her in, and he smiles. ]
Yeah. [Empathetic. He gets it now. He feels very seen, even if Steve is completely clueless.] Yeah. It's my mom.
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