Fallout || Stranger Things [2]

twenty-two || trials and tension

Soft music trickled through Steve and Billy's Bloomington apartment in the early morning hours as a movie title screen played on loop, the occupants of the living room sprawled out in sleeping bags and dead to the world.

     Billy poked his head around the corner of his room, Steve knocked out on his bedroom floor and reeking of the dark liquor they only let the high schoolers take sips of. With his cigarette pack tight in his hand, he carefully stepped out into the main section of the apartment and crossed to the door. He took a glance toward the kids who'd taken over his living room as he pulled the front door open, slipping out when none of them stirred.

     The night air bristled through his sweats, forcing him to draw his jacket tighter as he descended the stairs. Although his eyes had been set on his own car parked not too far off, he came to a stop as they fell on Jonathan's car only a few spaces over.

     "Will?" he asked with furrowed brows.

     The teen's head lifted from his own fingers, perched on the trunk of his brother's car. "Oh, hey," Will said softly.

     "When did you come out here?" Billy left his own car behind, walking over to the green beater.

     Will shrugged, still growing into his frame. "A little while ago, I guess. Everyone else passed out and I couldn't sleep."

     Billy hopped up onto the hood next to him as he shuffled over. "Do you mind?" he asked, lifting the cigarette pack up.

     "No, go for it," he replied nonchalantly, letting go of an airy sigh that clouded out as his eyes trailed upward to the dark sky.

     He glanced over to Will as he sparked a cigarette before stuffing the pack into his coat pocket. "Everything okay?"

     Will chewed on the inside of his cheek as he scanned the stars, absently tapping his feet together as they rested on the bumper. "I felt something last night."

     Billy's skin chilled, his cigarette lingering at his lips.

     "It felt like before," he quietly said. He grew quiet, taking in the twinkling lights above. "It didn't last long, but still...something changed." He sighed. "I haven't told the others."

     Although goosebumps littered his skin, he asked, "Why not?"

     "Because they wouldn't understand." Will lowered his head, looking to Billy. "But I thought you might."

     Billy stayed quiet for a moment, cigarette still burning as he rested the hand holding it on his knee. "It made the hair on the back of your neck stand up, right?"

     Will's lips parted gently, ears pulled back as he searched the recognition in Billy's eyes. "Yeah," he agreed quietly.

     "I used to get a feeling like that, like it was her hand on the back of my neck," Billy told him with a sigh. "But it was different this time."

     "It felt like last summer, the night he took you as his host."

     A chill rippled down Billy's spine, but he took a deep drag of his cigarette to cover it. He let out the smoke as memories of being puppeteered lingered, shaking his head. "We killed him."

     Will hesitated. "I don't think it was him."

     Billy's brows furrowed, looking back to the brunet. "Then what?"

     "It was fleeting this time," he replied. "Last summer, it was constant. This only lasted moments."

     "So, what do you think it was?" Billy took another puff, the nerves wracking through his body begging for it.