Believers

Chapter four - Don't miss a thing

Hawkins, Indiana

March, 1985

Chapter four - Don't miss a thing

Billy had cried. Not in front of anyone, obviously. After Steve had fallen asleep and all the kids had gone downstairs to explain to Bobby and Ginny, Billy had gone into the bathroom.

Leaning against the sink, Billy drew in a long breath and held it for a while. His knuckles turned white because he was clutching onto the sides of the sink so hard. A minute passed before Billy looked up into the mirror and exhaled a shaking breath. The tears that had gathered in his eyes dripped into the porcelain sink like a faulty faucet, his lip quivered and he held the back of his hand to his mouth, biting down lightly.

For a moment, after hearing that spine-tingling scream, Billy thought that Steve was dead for sure. And when he saw him, crazed and swinging his bat, Billy thought Steve had lost his mind for sure. And when Steve was catatonic in his arms, staring with a vacant look and looking like a ghost, he thought Steve was gone for sure. But no, Steve was fine- well no, he wasn't. Steve was being haunted by monsters from a polar demention and that wasn't okay. But he was stable, he was safe and Billy was going keep it that way.

Because when Billy was a kid, he wasn't able to protect the one ray of light in his life. His mother, Bonnie.

When Billy was 9, he walked in on something. He'd been hanging out with Stan Mason and Daniel Kirk, running away and towards the retreating and charging waves, when he decided to come home early. Now if he knew better, he'd stayed out as long as he could, because when he was a naive and oblivious kid, he didn't notice his mum's bruised up neck and arms.

But that day, June 10th, Billy leaped into the house with his feet encrusted with soggy sand and he dropped his socks and shoes. Bonnie was being strangled against the wall by Neil, she kicked and punched and scratched at Neil's wrists. Billy juat stood there like a dear caught in head lights, eyes massive and mouth agape in horrified awe. When his father had caught sight of him, he released his grip on Bonnie's neck and she sunk to the floor gasping and crying.

"Get to your room William!" His father had bellowed and Billy had done so, scattering to his bedroom and locking the door. He sat on the edge of his squeaking metal framed bed, hands clasped over his ears as Niel's shouts rung across the house. He didn't sleep that night.

A week later, June 17th, the divorce was announced and, after a drugs test on Bonnie came back that she'd  taken cocaine in last two days, Neil was given full custody of Billy. And separating Billy from his mother was a 5 mile restraining order.

After a year of many girlfriends, like Bethany Levin, a 22 year old beach babe, and Eleanor Connolly, a fucking prostitute, Neil Hargrove some how stumbled upon Susan Mayfield. Susan was a widowed woman with her 4 year old daughter, Maxine. She was a quiet woman with a sweet and forgiving heart and she believed she could fix Neil's 'damaged heart'. Bullshit. But Neil never hurt her, or Maxine, and turned his beating habits to 10 year old Billy. Billy got his first proper beating at 14, but till then it was hands being whipped by his belt or forcing him to take a cold shower. That was the beginning of "Respect and Responsibility".

Then they moved after Max had seen Billy making out with his most recent fuck buddy, Robin Akers. Like his father, Billy had started morphing into a sex-driven asshole with superficial charm. But Billy never beat his fuck buddies. The beating he got was the worst and Neil waited a few months till Bill was fully healed before they moved.

"No son of mine is going to be a cocksucking, pansy-ass faggot! Do you understand me, boy!?" Neil had hollered at him in the car on the way to Hawkins, Max had swallowed hard while Susan had timidly tried to calm Neil down.

"Yes sir," he replied in a deep voice, breathing heavily and leaned his head against the window.

"You are so damn lucky that Susan talked me out of moving to Derry, son.  You know why?" Neil spoke authoritively, eyeing him in the rear view mirror and Billy sat up straight under his gaze. Susan looked concerned at Billy then to Neil.

"Neil stop, he doesn't need-"

"Hush Susan, he's going to know why I wanted to move to Derry and he'll get my point," Neil paused, looking the mirror again.

"You listening, boy?" He growled agitatedly.

"Yes sir," he uttered.

"A boy was murdered in Derry this June at some festival, Adrian Mellon, you wanna know why?" His father had a small, sinister grin on his lips and it made Billy cringe. He remained silent.

"Neil-"

"Because he was a faggot! Three boys pummelled the Devil out of the poofter and his gay friend watched it happen!"

Billy splashed his face with cold water and the words still echoed in his head. Dragging his hands down his face, Billy wiped the memories away with the water and tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. The florescent light flickered for a second and he licked the corner of his mouth. The sound of the tap still running was sending Billy's mind spiralling and he cursed as he turned it off aggressively, watching the water twirl down the sink.

The blond left the bathroom, slapping the light off, and crossed the hall to Steve's bedroom. Quietly, he freaked the door open and peaked inside. He was still asleep. The day had been going agonisingly slow and the sun had only just crept up to the top of the pale sky, spilling brighter light than it had done before through the crack in the curtains. The white light was was painted across Steve's face, along his cheeks and nose, highlighting those precious freckles that Billy loved to kiss teasingly. Steve didn't look peaceful though, he looked exhausted with the black bags beneath his eyes and the irritated skin made them look like bruises.

Sighing, Billy silently strode to the bed they shared and knelt besides it. He looked at Steve and delicately pushed a few strands of his mahogany hair out of his face. Lightly taking Steve's hand into his, Billy lent forward and pressed a soft kiss onto his cheek and rested his head on the mattress, listening to Steve's breathing and watching his face. No way in Hell he was gonna fall asleep, not because wasn't tired but because he didn't want to miss a thing about Steve. Because Goddamn it, he loved Steve Harrington to death and what ever was beyond it.