𝕾𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 - [𝗦𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗛𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗼𝗻]

𝐯𝐢𝐢. 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 — don't cream your pants

━━━━━━━

 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 of utter despair, and the underlying trace of fear that had alighted Max Mayfield's when she had breathed her brother's name; Billy Hargrove was not a good man. The girl had practically recoiled, almost rolling off the couch, had it not been for Lucas who steadied her with a reassuring hand on her back.

 The other children had scrambled to vault atop the seat, wide eyes peering through the curtains only to squint as the glaring light from Billy's headlights streamed into their faces. One had been by Max's side in an instant; the look on her freckled face was one she knew all too well.

 One's brows had creased, a frustrated divot appearing between them as she pushed herself away from the kids, her hands itched at her side, almost begging for a fight; perhaps she had gotten far too used to her life with Kali and the others or maybe their lust for harrowing revenge had simply made her rage look like a sky full of shimmering rainbows.

 Steve had been quick to approach her, watching as her hands balled by her side. He knew that if he so much as blinked, there'd be a crimson limelight steadily flowing from her fingertips. Billy Hargrove was his fight. Demogorgons, Demo-dogs, the Mind Flayer... those were all things he couldn't fight and have a fragment of a chance at beating. He might not be able to defeat the mullet-wearing asshole approaching the home either, but at least he had some familiarity with throwing a punch to a nose.

 "Don't," Steve rushed out, his hand hastily closing around One's steadily glowing palm. The light faded into nothing, dousing them all in a dull yellow sheen from the lamplight, "Just... He can't see your powers."

 He almost laughed at the somewhat affronted look on her face as she spoke, "I can throw a punch, Steve."

 His eyes wandered over her, catching the pearly scars slashed across her hands, "Yeah, I bet... But this guy's been a real asshole since he got here, so just — just let me deal with him, alright?"

 One stared at him a moment longer, lips quirking as he hurriedly snatched his hand back from her own as though she'd burnt him. Maybe she had, his cheeks were dark. There was a bout of underlying anger within those brown eyes of his; it was obvious that he and Max's brother had an unsavoury history.

 She'd missed a lot, and he'd been here for it all; it was only right that the one who'd already experienced Billy's rage, his irritable demeanour and his less than favourable words was the one to take care of him.

 One's response was reluctant; but revenge was something she knew well enough, and she knew how much it meant to Steve to keep the kids safe, "Alright." She murmured, unfurling her hand before sliding it into her pocket.