TO SAY THAT TIME HAD SLOWED as the camaro made its way to park in front of the byers’ house, would be an understatement. actually, to even say that time had came to a complete, and full utter halt, would be an understatement. it just refused to go on. ceasing to exist. smothered out by the ever present realization which decided to bombard billy tenfold now that he was actually here. five months. fifteen days. give or take thirty-two minutes and throw in a handful of seconds and that was how long it had been since his mind had been liberated and otherwise returned, to be his own again. the almost dying part? only to then be held captive? tested on, like some guinea pig? honestly all those somber sentiments from the whole aftermath seemed rather inconsequential in comparison to what he was about to confront. who he was about to confront. the very person who gave him that tiny ounce of strength and enough of a chance to make the way to regain control of his self possible.
and he couldn’t wait to properly meet her.
so whatever anxious stupor that had taken hold over him didn’t keep him frozen to his seat for very long. well. mentally, at least. his physical being was another thing entirely.
there was no telling just how rigid and cramped up his limbs had gotten during the drive until he shut off the ignition and went and tried to get out of the car. his left calf spasmed. his right thigh, was aching. forearms sore from however long they’d been involuntary flexing. the lower part of his spine was cracking with the movements he was making for fuck’s sake! but billy did. get up, that is. albeit a tad less graceful than usual. once his skin made contact with the crisp evening air, though, it felt like his body in its entirety could actually loosen up. but he wasn’t going to be able to appreciate the feel of it. mostly because in the very second he had stepped out of his car all four of the brats who had gone and invited themselves to join him on his trip banned together in a provisional stampede and he instead became engulfed by the feel of bony knees and elbows; ushering together in union, intent in their breakneck pace towards the byers’ front door. those little dickheads were nothing short of vicious about it either. to the point where anyone in a five mile radius could hear as his chucks scraped along the gravel road and then proceeded to cry out and squeak against the concrete pathway in clear protest to all the sudden changes of terrain.
an involuntary stumble here, and another stagger there. one moment his sights were on the house. the next billy was turned around, facing the road. in all the disarray, he did the only thing he could do, in that mere fraction of a moment.
he took a deep, hard ass pull from the cigarette he’d been puffing off of well before his arrival.
❝ next one of you geeks to shove in to me’s gonna find their teeth scattered around this front porch. ❞
while his threat rang true, it was literally just that. a threat. the likelihood of him going that next step and roughing them up were, sadly, pretty much zero to none. not when he was how he was. if he did, they would be loosing a hell of a lot more than just their teeth. especially when his exasperation levels were nearing an all time high. they weren’t certain, or more accurately, trusted, that he wouldn’t though. and that is just how he liked things between them to be. so it really didn’t do him any favors when some of the words lost their intended bite while they moved past the roll suspended from his lips. not that he would actually be able to take proper notice and rectify that little fact, when barely even two seconds after he had spoken those same scrawny limbs which managed to drag him this far began to completely rip at his own; all in order to get around him in the name of being the first to knock on the door. ❝ jesus ! ❞ some mix between a hiss and a choke escaped him, a cloud of smoke accompanying the sound. with his bearing now secure and his proper footing fully re-gained, however, billy turned on his heels so he could face the swarm, and….. despite the force used against him they actually hadn’t gotten very far. one step forward was all it took for him to be up the stairs and where he always seemed to be. all up in everyone else’s space. ❝ what did i j u s t say? ❞ ripping the cigarette out from his mouth, his free hand shot right over the back of lucas’ shoulder and came to a rest against the frame of the front door ( unintentional as it might of been the booming SLAP ! that radiated from the sudden skin to wood contact was a more than welcome effect ) arm sliding down a bit as he leaned in, his face settled inches away from the only two with the balls to fully look at him head on; pointedly jabbing his cigarette towards dustin’s unsuspecting head. but he didn’t let its smoldered end touch the kid. just kept it out in a way that was close enough to draw a bit of attention and as such force whoever was paying attention to take a good long look. for certain ‘ give me a reason to burn these curls to shit ’ purposes of course.
cause, when all else fails? why not bust out that surefire back up threat?
by giving even the slightest implication that he would bring some type of harm to that mop of hair, he had these kids drowning in resentment while eating out from the palm of his hand. and rightfully so. this particular intimidation technique seemed to cause dustin to completely plunge and belly flop straight into manic mode. billy was talking tears. literal tears. snot bubbles of all sizes escaping from his nose. some sort of panicked half shriek half yell while he incessantly pleaded on behalf of his curls. that boy would full on be channeling the fucking theatrics from an entire general hospital episode. which, if not made evidently clear, happened to be more than whatever unlucky soul possessing ears or eyes in that moment, was willing to stand.
something they would all do well to remember in using as a future defense against any other doomsday type creatures who decided to stroll on in to their dimension.
@babysitter4hire
It’s not a comfortable drive…
Nancy and Steve are — friends. Kind of. It’s just a bit of a strain to really talk to her anymore. At this point in their lives they don’t have much in common (except monsters and the upside down). While they drive in mostly silence, he wonders if they ever really had anything in common to begin with… It doesn’t feel very good. Plus, she’s going to be finishing up her senior year and going off to college and Steve doesn’t feel up for talking about all of that. Which, he’s sure Nancy can tell because she hasn’t even told him where she’s applied.
Because Steve’s stuck in Hawkins. And that’s pathetic.
But it could be worse. He does have the house to himself for the next couple of weeks, his mom and dad decided to spend Christmas in the city. He’d lied and said he was going to have to work through the holiday but in actuality he took the time off because, well, the year had been hell and he wanted to just relax for once. He deserved to relax for once.
“It’s this next turn coming up.”
Steve startles a little bit. It’s been over an hour since Nancy had said anything. He has to slam on the brakes to make the turn in time… and then cringes around a sorry after Nancy knocks into the door and has to steady herself against the dashboard. If she hadn’t said anything he would have completely missed it. After driving so long he was completely hypnotized by the road… Not to mention tired.
There’s a bit of relief as they turn into the driveway… He’ll get to stand and stretch for a minute before having to make the drive back. But there’s another car in the driveway… a blue Camaro. The blue Camaro. Probably the only Camaro that had ever been driven through the streets of Hawkins, Indiana. There’s no misplacing who it belongs to.
It’s Nancy who acknowledges the scene before them. “That’s — “
Billy Hargrove.
He puts the BMW in park but they both just sit there. Like, they knew he was alive and all, Max had told the party he was back (whatever any of it meant). But actually seeing him in the flesh… He still looks like Billy, not half rotten and undead like Steve had imagined him. They’d watched him d i e, for christ’s sake! And then there’s this dry knot that bunches up in Steve's throat. The last time he and Billy met on the Byers’ driveway Steve had a plate smashed over his head...
Nancy takes the lead as usual. They share a look before she’s up and out of the car, getting her suitcase from the trunk. She slips into a smile easily it seems, waving above her head to the kids.
Oh fuck. The kids are here. Steve can already hear Dustin screeching at him for not telling him he was driving all the way down here… Steve was just going to drop Nancy off and then run… Now he absolutely had to get out of the car, absolutely had to exchange pleasantries with Mrs. Byers and Jonathon… and Billy.
There’s already a whole bunch of commotion and Steve’s legs are paralyzed. Fucking fuck fuck fuck.
When he finally steps out into the brisk air he stays back. Trying not to get caught in the commotion as the Byers’ front door opens and Will comes sprinting out. He forces a smile (hopes it doesn’t look too forced) and slowly walks up the drive.
Why did he agree to give Nancy a ride?