TW// Description of a meltdown and use of uncensored R slur
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Steve is on the brink of a meltdown.
He’s already having to force the words out of his throat, lips protesting making the sounds come out slurred and garbled.
He's exhausted himself, and he’s struggling to stay up right as he uses the hand that's not propping him up, to wipe the dried blood from his nose. It wasn’t a secret that he had powers, many of his close friends knew, especially after his sister showed up one fateful night. He’d escaped years before, guilt eating him alive that he couldn’t take her with him. He’d grabbed papers proving the abuse that went on in the lab and blackmailed Papa with it.
After 001 had been banished, and seemingly destroyed by El, Seven, who’d been in solitary at the time, snuck out during the distraction, having heard the massacre, he decided to steal files. To make Papa promise he wouldn't hurt his little sister.
His mind flashes back to why he was being punished in the first place, he’d had a meltdown, misinterpreted the instructions, made Papa angry. And he heard the guards say a word that he didn’t know, but they said it with such disgust, that he knew. He knew it wasn’t good.
Getting enrolled in public school he’d heard that word a lot more, and each time it sent pain right to his chest.
“Retard.”
It was thrown around, all over the place. And the word “Autistic” was spat out like a swear, to which Seven, now Steve, knew that it was a fact about himself he should hide. Not just the lab, and his extra senses and abilities.
So yeah. Most of the people in the room knew about his powers, especially after he’d used them to lift Eddie’s body through the portal, and pinpoint them to keep his heart beating, that is until they could get to hospital.
Now, dirty, and covered in upside down, the group rallied around Eddie, thanking whatever higher power that he was alive. Dustin didn’t skip a beat in reminding them that Steve was their higher power, and Eddie groggily agreed.
His weary eyes scanned the room for his savior, but couldn’t find him, or the friend that seemed to be attached at his hip.
“We’re a package deal, Munson,” She’d said the day Eddie came into the family video, asking Steve to go to a movie.
Their absence didn’t go unnoticed, after recognizing Steve as the hero made the group look around for the boy. Panic ensued, the able bodied people stood immediately, Max’s hands moving to the handles of her wheelchair, ready to look for Steve. Lucas stopped this quickly, clicking the locks before she could begin to move. She gave him a glare, to which he shot back a “You really think any of your nurses are going to let you help look?”
Ten minutes before, Steve was standing, leaning heavily on the wall, trying to keep his hands from beating at his chest, holding the groans in his throat before they could escape. Robin took notice of this, and at first she thought it was his injuries. He really should have been admitted too, but he refused, as always. “Steve, why don’t you sit if you’re hurting,” She suggested gently. He shook his head, and that's when she noticed the twitching hands and wide eyes. Flickering back and forth with an overwhelmed look, wincing whenever anybody spoke. She saw the overstimulation form a mile away.
She took his arm, gently squeezing it, and pulling him into the bathroom. She sat them down, Starcourt style, and she grabbed Steve’s hands. Attempting to ground him, she squeezed them periodically, and trying to ease his shuddering breath. His face went pale, “Rob, get out.” She thought he was going to be sick, “Please, leave Robin, I- You cant.” He sobbed. She thought he was leaning over to throw up, so she moved back, letting go of his hands, but staying there.
A whine peeled its way out of his throat, and his hand flew up to his chest, beating on it. The other weaving through his hair, as he rocked roughly back and forth. He hummed harshly, throwing his head back, before leaning forwards again and repeating the motion, this time hitting against the stall, the sound reverberating through the empty bathroom. His hums got harsher, progressing into guttural shouts.
Robin sat back in shock, here was Steve, King Steve, having a meltdown in front of her. A full on autistic meltdown, where she could tell he was holding back screams. She jumped into action, she voiced her motions so she wouldn’t startle him, but she couldn’t let him sit here in this agony. She pressed her hands firmly against his head, covering his ears. The canceling of one sensation and the nice, constant pressure, calmed his body. “Let it out, Steve. You’ll feel better, okay? I know.” She assured. She gave him a meaningful look, and repeated herself.
“I know, Steve.”
His face once pinched, now relaxed a little and a sharp screech sounded from his lips, dying down then starting again. The strain against his vocal cords was soothing, and he allowed his body to stop rocking, slumping against Robin, who moved her hands around him, squeezing his body tightly. He hummed, still coming out sharp, and aggressive, hands resting against his throat as he focused on the vibrations. He quieted, hands moving to his chest, fingers tapping against it in a rhythmic pattern.
“Thank you, Robin,” He said, so quietly, that she almost didn’t hear him. He pried himself out of her arms, and she could see the mask slipping back on in full force.
“Oh no you don’t, you just had a meltdown. Come here, don’t start masking again.” She warned, pulling him back, returning her grounding touch.
Just as he calmed down, letting himself relax fully into his best friend's chest, the door burst open, kids and teens flooding into the bathroom. “Steve, we heard screaming, are you okay? What happened?!” Dustin asked frantically.
He shot up, mask in full force, “I’m okay, just needed a moment,” He forced out. Lucas gave him a weird look, “Moment to scream?” he asked incredulously. Steve nodded, and he heard Robin sigh from where she was still sitting on the floor. “Get back down here, Steve. We aren’t done, you need to stay grounded.”
He shot her a look, one that was full of fear and warnings to stop talking, but she didn’t get it. She was sick and tired of seeing her friend torture himself, just to keep up an image that no one, especially not the people who’s lives he just saved, would care about.
Nancy, Dustin and Lucas watched the teens have a silent conversation, and eventually Steve relented, body sagging as he moved to sit back down. Arms holding his own body tightly.
“Okay, what is going on?” Nancy asked, face pointed, lips pursed in a way only Nancy Wheeler could do, and the two tween boys nodded, furthering the question.
“He had a meltdown,” Robin said, getting the okay from Steve, who was now slumped against her once again, and she held him tightly, keeping him on the ground. He was too exhausted to speak, he was grateful Robin understood so well.
The other people in the room looked confused, and Robin sighed before explaining, “Have you guys ever heard… Of autism?”
“You mean what Eddie has?” Lucas and Dustin asked simultaneously, laughing shortly at their timing. Nancy still looked confused, “Eddie has autism?” She asked, to which the boys nodded their heads.
“Yeah. That’s why people call him a freak.” Dustin said simply, voice dying in confidence as he watched Steve flinch at the word, whispering a sorry.
“Steve’s autistic,” Robin said, and she felt Steve’s body go rigid as he waited for their reaction.
“That makes so much sense!” Dustin said after a long moment of silence, and Steve looked up at him.
“No, no, it does!” He insisted.
“You can never tell when people are annoyed, and we have to remind you to eat, because if we don’t you’ll forget and pass out!” He explained, and it looked like a lightbulb popped up from Nancy and Lucas’ heads.
“Oh, Steve.” Nancy said.
“Is that why… Is that why you always told Tommy off when he said Re-” She stopped herself before she said the word. And Steve nodded, “It wasn’t fair to let him call people who were just like me that word. Just because I could pretend better.” He said, voice coming out clearer. Robin's grip loosened just a little bit, she felt Steve’s body relaxing further as he revealed himself.
“I knew about Eddie. We, we were friends before I became the shithead I was in high school, and he. He knew about me too. Spotted me before I could even begin to deny it.” He laughed weaky.
The group nodded, they understood their friend so much better now, why he did the things he did, the routines he had to follow. He followed them even if the kids came over and attempted to ruin it, he always gave them excuses that held them off just long enough so he could finish whatever routine they’d interrupted.
Steve shifted, uncomfortable from the hard floor, and he decided to stand up, and move back to his boyfriend's room. Walking back, Robin kept a firm hand on his elbow, kids and Nancy following behind them. He pushed open the door seeing Max and Eddie’s worried faces, he instantly felt guilty.
“I’m so sor-” He was cut off by Robin, “No apologies, dingus. Not happening.” She said sharply, dropping her grip from his arm so he could move closer to his boyfriend, who scooted over in the already small hospital bed to make room for Steve to lay next to him. Steve obliged, wanting nothing but to be next to his boyfriend, and maybe a nap.
“I had a meltdown,” he murmured against Eddie’s chest as he curled into him. He felt his boyfriends hands tangle in his hair, “Oh baby, I'm sorry.” Eddie murmured against his hair, pressing a kiss to his head,
“I figured it out, I helped him through it,” Robin piped up, somewhat proudly. Steve nodded, and he felt his eyes drift close, and before he succumbed to sleep he could hear Max say, “No wonder I like you so much Steve. You’re just like me.”
concept: Billy taking Max to the amusement park one summer because he doesn’t have a job now for nothing, he can pay for them to do things with no parents involved, and because he and his sister just never got to just be kids, he wants to give them that now that he can.
Max being so excited he can’t help but feel that it’s contagious, letting her drag him around the park by his wrist, between riding rides the both of them just marveling at every last detail of the place, how whimsical it felt just being there and how pretty the lights were even in the day time.
Billy reminding her multiple times to stop and take a breather, making her sit down and get a drink so she doesn’t dehydrate and dippin’ dots so she doesn’t complain about it. Billy realizing he’s never seen his sister so carefree or enthusiastic about anything, and it hitting him just how much their life at home has an effect on her too.
The amusement park becoming a little too much for Max after a while, too much to do and take in, too many people and noises and songs, and her starting to slow down, not in a pacing herself kind of way, more like in a socially exhausted way.
Billy noticing and taking her to the arcade where there’s nobody else in there because it’s so hot, so he can keep an eye on how she’s feeling without hovering, giving her some space to cool off while he plays his half of the 180 tokens he buys.
Billy being smart enough to cheat the ticket claw machine and getting the 200 rolls every time, and cheating at jackpots on the old broken down machines, playing games with Max whenever she asked and letting her win or cheering for her when she got the jackpot on a spinning wheel without needing to cheat it.
The two of them getting well over three thousand tickets, mostly from how many times Billy spent another twenty to get more tokens just to see Max smile so big and run off to the pac man cabinet to dump half her tokens into it.
When they’re out of spending money and go to the prize counter, Billy seeing the brunet cashier when they walk up with their arms full of tickets and falling in love with him in the time it takes for the clunky machine to eat their tickets and count them out.
Max darting from shelf to shelf looking over all the prizes, struggling to decide what she wants, but Billy letting her take her time choosing because it gives him more time to flirt with the boy behind the prize counter.
Billy leaning against the counter and smiling his most charming smile. Steve, whose name he learns from the tag on his bright blue polo shirt, rolling his eyes and complaining about having to wipe Billy's handprints off later, but playing along, leaning on his elbows on the other side.
Billy using cheesy pickup lines on Steve that make the both of them laugh and telling each other about themselves, finding out they normally only live a few miles away from one another, Billy and Max in a small town called Hope while Steve would be back in Hawkins when the summer was up.
Max interrupting by hitting her brothers shoulder and pointing excitedly at the prizes she wanted, a lava lamp worth more than half of their tickets, a good soccer ball, a huge handful of candy that Steve only guesses how much it costs, and Max telling Billy he got to pick something too, since he’d earned more of the tickets anyways.
Billy picking out a plush tiger because he was never allowed anything like that, and thinking he lost his chance dropping that flirtatious persona for Max, but Steve actually adoring how gentle and soft he is for his little sister and writing his number at the bottom of their receipt with how many tickets they have left printed on the bottom.
Max feeling cheated out of the extra tickets because the receipt can’t be redeemed once it was written on, and Billy promising her with a hand on her shoulder that they’ll come back for more, shoving the receipt in his pocket and winking at Steve as they leave, the promise extending to him too.
Billy being unable to wipe the smile off of his face for the rest of the day, and Max taking notice, asking bluntly, “You have a crush on that boy don’t you?”
With a look back at the arcade, Billy answering, “Maybe.” and ruffling her hair, quickly changing the subject because this trip was for her, challenging her, “Race you to the tilt-a-whirl, kiddo.”
HI MINNIE (are you alright with me calling you that?? HHRHR) JUST wanna let you knwo that ive been putting off looking at the ask you sent me about iida all day because i want to read it when im feeling as comfy as possible but… i am really so excited 😭 you are so NICE and im so grateful 😭 anyway… i will get you back for this 😈 and NO im not being or feeling forced to write you out a long ass ask about one or more of your f/os ill be doing it because i want to so look out for that ❤️ HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY THOUGH!!!!! youre super cool and id love to talk to you more!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️
Steve has never felt… Normal. Which is why hanging out with Robin felt so odd. It was like he didn’t have to pretend, like he felt weightless around her.
In fact, he felt weightless around the kids too, but dropping them off at school, it made the tightness in his chest return. He felt the urge to run a hand through his hair, to tug on it, pull it until he felt right.
Robin could always see it. She knew King Steve was a fake. She could see the hands twitching, fluttering around his body, nails looking for something to catch on. The only thing is, Steve Harrington was blissfully, well maybe not blissfully, unaware of what plagued him. But she knew, she knew, what he’d be called if anyone else noticed, what would happen to him.
So she kept her mouth shut, that is until Steve Harrington had a melt down on her living room floor. Murmuring, stuttering, hands tugging, and tears leaking out of his eyes. “What’s wrong with me?” He sobbed, and her heart broke.
“Why can’t I just be normal,” he begged, beating hands against his head.
“Stupid, stupid!” And Robin died inside, seeing her best friend, her exact, calling himself stupid, cursing himself, stabbing her, and criticizing himself so harshly.
“Dad was right. Retarded. That’s all I am. I can’t fucking do anything right!” It seemed like he was begging for help, but didn’t know how to ask for it. All she can do is rub his back, hold his hands away from his head, trying to stop the hurt.
She sat there with him on the floor, when her mother came home, she just shook her head at the offer of dinner. She’s seen the way Steve forces the food down his throat, hiding a grimace at the texture. She wants to tell him he doesn’t have to.
She wants to tell him to just spit it out.
And Steve. Well he just sits in silence. He thinks it happens to everyone, they’re just better at keeping the tics contained, better at choking down the food that makes his stomach revolt, better at pretending he didn’t just throw up all of his dinner.
Because he couldn’t get the feeling of it out of his mouth.
But after his episode, his 15th one to be exact, Robin sheds some light on the situation.
She bares her soul, her mind, to him. She shared parts of herself that only her mother knew, and it was terrifying.
But it helped. And Steve suddenly didn’t feel so alone. And he knew that his chest tightening at the sight of Hawkins High, didn’t have to happen anymore.
He knew the hands raking through his hair would help him be a better brother. To Dustin. To Max. Because if he didn’t hide himself, they wouldn’t have to either.
disclaimer i am coming off a meltdown and still kinda of dizzy from the hyperventilating but it's cathartic to write so im gonna try my best
Mike- For Mike, I don't see many nd tendencies bedsides like,,, teen angst and the usual ptsd that comes w the show. he def has trauma he needs to work through tho.
Will- For will, i can see autism, maybe a sensory prosessing disorder (would explain his hair - he could stim w it) i can also see him being somewhat of an art savant
Lucas- For lucas i can honestly see the canon typical ptsd but also perhaps some agoraphobia. the reason for this thought is because he constantly chastises erica and his friends when they say something inappropriate or rude, and it scares him but he doesn't know how to express that. i can also see maybe a lil autism, bc he and steve are very alike and it wouldn't surprise me if they have that in common too
Dustin - Audhd, most definitely. he hyperfixates, and he has an extreme need to collect knowledge on anything and everything. i also think we've seen him stim, (the put in st2 and he does lil excited jumps in st4) i think his adhd manifests outwardly, so his body is always moving rather than manifesting in the way where his brain is constantly moving. i hope that makes sense. for some reason i also picture him having p distinct food aversions and sensory issues when it comes to that
Eleven - So with Eleven, im going off the grid a little bit here. For her, i hc something called feral child syndrome, and this is being reversed slowly with her, being socialized, for lack of better words. she didn't know how to interact with her environment and didn't understand why the general public acted the way they do. We can see the remnants of this in st4 when we see her interacting with public school students for the first time in her life. she doesn't quite get social queues, but that's because (imo) she has never had to before. with the party, they explained themselves somewhat. when dealing w angela, her brain doesn't quite compute.
Max - for max, I def hc autism. she's wearing a pretty heavy mask, and we kind of see it slip in st4, she wears looser clothing and keeps her hair in braids most of the time. imo this is bc of sensory issues. she, like lucas and steve, don't really know how to act, so they mask heavy. we kind of see both max and lucas learn that their tendencies are... not the norm, and apply the mask. for steve, we see the mask come off.
Erica - this baby is autistic. it runs in the family! erica doesn't mask a whole lot, but when people see through the small one she has, she combats it with anger and aggression, because she's scared. she's seen how people treat lucas, and she's trying to hide those traits now so she doesn't go tbrough the same thing. she also like my little pony. classic autistic move.
Suzie - for suzie, i can see genius iq. this is a type of nd, and i think it fits her perfectly. if not that, then a savant autistic, unlike wills, hers manifests in academic skills. the only reason i don't say autism right off the bat is because i haven't seen enough of her, and from what we have seen doesn't scream autism to me. I see a genius with a lot of religious guilt.
Billy has to stick up for max a lot because of her autism, at school he walks to her class and their afraid of him because just,,, look at him
warnings for mentions of bullying and ableism.
It isn’t easy to make Maxine Mayfield cry.
At least, Billy had almost never seen her shed a tear in the six years he’d known her but maybe two times: once when she was still little, and just learned her step-family was going to move into her house and replace her real dad forever, and once when she was told they would be leaving California. Both times she’d run off to her room and slammed the door before anyone could see, but Billy had noticed. He always did when it came to Max. Had to when he knew damn well how much trouble he’d be in if things went wrong while he was watching her.
Beyond that there were a few teary eyed looks that got wiped away, maybe a sniffle she’d try to cover up by complaining about her allergies, but it was very rare, even during meltdowns, that she’d be full on crying, tears streaming down her face so quickly she couldn’t wipe them away while sobs wrack through her and make her shake.
So Billy knows first thing that something is very, very wrong when she’s already at his car after school, her face buried in her balled up jacket and doing exactly that. He can hear her from outside the car, so he sighs and knocks on the window before he yanks the door open, but Max doesn’t even flinch, just curls up tighter in the passenger seat and ignores him.
That’s a bad sign too, the fact she isn’t even trying to hide it from him, “What’s a’matter Maxi?”
“None of your business.” She snaps at him, voice thick and wet with tears. It’s unfamiliar seeing her like that and it makes Billy feel tense ang guilt even though he didn’t do it this time, so he tries, “Come on. It totally is my business. You get tears on my leather seats n’the salt’ll stain ‘em up, and you’ll be the one to clean it up.”
All it gets from Max is another heavy sob, instantly hitting him with a pang of regret for trying to be light about this, “Shit. M’sorry, Maxi. Didn’t mean it like that. Just tryin’ ta make you smile.”
“Well it didn’t work!” Max sniffles, throwing her jacket on the dash and finally turning to look at Billy, face flushed red and tracked with tears, her bottom lip still wobbling, “I’ll never ever smile again..”
“Why not? I know it’s not just because of your dumbass brother.” Billy sees a twitch at the corner of her lip, the slightest hint of a smile at him insulting himself, and he counts that as a small win, a sign he’s getting at least a little bit through to Max, so he prompts her again, “What happened at school today, Max?”
Her gaze drops to her lap, and she shrugs her shoulders slightly, stiffly, as she mumbles an explanation, “Remember how I told you about that boy, who's mean to me and my friends?”
“‘Course I do. I never forget anythin’ you tell me.”
Max wipes her nose on her sleeve, and corrects him, “Except for when you forgot I told you I had AV club and you came in the school looking for me and then you got stuck talking to a teacher for like, three hours after I was done.”
“Yeah, well that was one time. N’I was already havin’ a bad day when you told me, thank you very much.” He encourages her, his face serious though their tone is light-hearted, “Keep goin’, what’d this kid do now?”
Again Max’s features close off, and she tries to lie, “He was just.. Well it was my fault.. I-I don’t know.”
“Max. I need the truth.”
Talking fast, like she’s fighting against her thoughts, she makes him promise, “Promise me you won’t do anything dumb, first.”
Billy lifts a hand from the steering wheel, “I won’t. Cross my heart, Maxi.”
At this point, in the silence that builds while Max wills herself to speak, Billy starts to drive, since it’s clear he won’t be going back into that school. It isn’t lost on him the way Max takes a deep breath, out of relief that he meant it when he said he wasn’t going to be dumb and march back in there.
Quickly, once she’s ready, she explains, “Okay. Well he kinda sort of told me that I was annoying ‘cause I laugh too much, and I told him it was just a stim n’that I couldn’t help it but he said that made me a baby and I told him I wasn’t and he called me a retard instead and I was already stressed so I started crying like a dumb baby and he laughed at me and none of my friends said anything or helped me and I just.. yeah.”
All Billy can do is raise his eyebrows, has about a hundred and one pissy and angry things he could say, but he doesn’t utter a word, because he doesn’t want to make Max more upset than she already is.
Clearly just the change in his expression spooks her though, because she insists, sounding like she could cry again at any second, “You promised me!”
He puts his hands up sort of defensively, though he has to grab the wheel again when the car veers, swallowing his anger to tell her calmly, “I didn’t even say anything. I promised I’d be nice and I’m gonna keep that promise.”
She nods hesitantly, more to show trust than agreement, so Billy continues, “But Maxi that’s.. bad. Why don’t you tell a teacher or some shit?”
“Yeah, like they would even do anything. They already hate me for being in their coed classes.” Max mumbles the last part, looking away, “They’d probably rather Troy beat me up so I wouldn’t be bothering them anymore.”
“Tell me you’re being dramatic.”
But Max just shrugs again.
“Fuck, I hate this fucking place.” Billy tears his eyes from the road to look Max in the eyes as she says it, even knowing she can’t return the gesture, “You know you don’t deserve to go through this shit, Maxi?”
“It.. is kinda my fault though.”
He lashes out, just a little, hearing her talk like that about herself. Because it’s not fair that a thirteen year old girl looks at herself that way, yeah, but also because he knows it’s in some ways his fault too, and their parents for the way she’d been brought up, and the shit she'd been around that she even thinks to say shit like that.
He hits the palm of his hand against the rim of his steering wheel, rather he goes to before he catches himself, slowing it before it really hits, tapping it more than anything, “No the fuck it isn’t. It’s nobody’s fault but the assholes that make it into a problem. And fucking Neil’s for dragging us to this close-minded little spot on the map. I hate this fucking town”
“Oh.” Is all Max says.
Billy waits, but he can see she doesn’t know what else to say, so he sighs, “Look, I made my promise to you. Can you make one for me now?”
Max looks confused, “Okay?”
“Promise me that the next time somebody says some shit to you, you stand up for yourself.” Max scrunches up her face, like she immediately disagrees with that, but Billy insists, “Look, I don’t care if you’re crying like a damn baby or you can’t even talk while you do it, just don’t let ‘em walk all over you like that again.”
“I’m not fighting anyone, Billy. I’m not.. like you.”
“That’s not what I said. I said to stand up for yourself. It’s different.”
“Yeah right. How am I supposed to do that?” Billy knows that some asshole had to have said that to Max, that for whatever bullshit reason she couldn’t stick up for herself. Damn kid can’t catch a break in life, so he tells her, at this point not sure if this is even advice or just him ranting at Max, “This kid calls you a slur again, tell ‘im at least you got the diagnosis. Make him feel like he’s the stupid one. And if a teacher ever pulls some shit about the way you learn, tell ‘em you’ll go to the board of education and personally get their asses fired. Your mom would fight for you.”
“No she wouldn’t.”
“Then dammit I would. Your friends would if they understood. I know Sinclair would kick ass for you.”
Max’s toughness finally cracks- she learned that from him, to put on that hard exterior and fake it- Billy's determination stronger than her stubbornness. She looks up at him with a look in her eye that says he’s said all the right things, “You really think so?”
“No shit. Big brothers know all about this kind of bull.”
“I guess.” Max smiles just a little, and tells him matter-of-factly, “But you’re not that kind of big brother. You’re too cool.”
“Hell yeah I am.” Billy hums proudly, adding with humor in his tone, “But it’s even more cool to be nice to your little sister than it is to be an asshole. Remember that one.”
Max nods, listing it off on her fingers, “Stand up for myself, but don’t be an asshole, and Billy's secretly a big softie. I think I got it.”
“Good. Now out of my car, shitbird.”
Giggling in that way that says she knows she got him, Max swings open her door and runs into the house, leaving Billy to watch after her. He turns off the car but doesn’t get out, trying to bury his worry for her under his expression, not because he didn’t care, or even because he didn’t want her to know, he was long past that, but because he was worried what would happen if Susan saw his concern.
She’d weasel the truth out of Max if she knew something was up, and somehow, despite her promises, Neil would find out once he dragged his ass back home from the bar later tonight, and then it would somehow be Billy’s fault. He just hopes, if Max lets slip about the bullying, she at least doesn’t get too mouthy and mention the part where she was crying.
That was a Friday when that all went down, so Billy has the weekend, which thankfully does not include any snitching, to decide what he’s going to do about it. It’s not like he was ever going to go beat up on any tweens anyways, but he promised Max he wouldn’t be dumb, and he knew that meant no passive aggressive bullshit either. At least not while she could see him.
Because that ruled out like, half of his options, he’s still kind of clueless on what he’s going to do that next Monday morning when schools back in. He’s sitting in the middle school parking lot, fingers twitching against the steering wheel without a cigarette to busy them with, waiting for 7:30 on the dot when Max always goes in.
At this point, he’s considering just ditching with her to go get ice cream or something so she doesn’t have to face any bullies today, but his epiphany comes in the form of watching Jonathan Byers walk the littler one all the way to the front doors, his hand protectively hooked through the handle on the kid’s backpack. When the clock ticks the right time and Max opens her door, he knows what he’s going to do, and he turns the car off.
She freezes, can tell he’s up to something. “What are you doing?”
“Nothin’. M’just walking you in.” She glares at him in response to the smug smile he wears, so he swears, “Honest. I got basketball today. No way I’m missing that shit ‘cause I fought some little kid.”
“You’re lying.”
“Can’t I just be nice to my little sister?”
From the look on her face, she’s still skeptical, but it's enough to get Max to agree to it, grabbing her bag from the backseat and mumbling, “Whatever. Just don’t embarrass me.”
Billy chuckles, giving Max a head start towards the building before he follows, “Hey now, I thought just yesterday I was your cool older brother.”
“Cool older brothers don’t walk their sisters to the door.” She calls it over her shoulder, and Billy can’t help but tease her more, correcting her in a sing-songy voice, “Who said I was stoppin’ at the door? I’m walking you all the way to your class.”
“Oh god.” Max stops walking, but Billy keeps up, this time pulling ahead enough to call back to her, “Come on shitbird. Don’t wanna be late.”
“I hate you so much.”
“Yeah, right. You love that I would take the time outta my morning to do this for you.” He props open the door for Max with his boot, pretending not to notice the way all the little middle school kids at their lockers turn to gawk at them, letting her shove past him with her face flushed deeper than the color of her hair in embarrassment.
Pulling on her backpack straps, like she’s trying to physically make herself smaller, she mumbles, “No, I actually hate you.”
He almost feels bad for embarrassing her, but that’s the other part of his job, and he reminds her of that, “Good. There’s some more advice for ya, little sisters should always hate their big brothers, or he’s doing something wrong.”
They get a little ways down the hall, Max’s confidence going up just some as the shock wears off and people start to turn away, but Billy hardly notices. He doesn’t even come close to being bothered by eighth grade politics anymore, and if he’s intimidating the poor kids, well that’s exactly what he’s there for.
When he’s met with a particularly harsh glare from some snob nosed brat, who happens to remind him a lot of one Tommy Hagan, he bumps into Max on purpose, and announces louder than he needs to in hopes the kid’ll know he was looking for him, “That the little asshole s’been givin’ you trouble?”
Glancing nervously between him and Billy, she nods, “Yeah..”
Billy just nods, a cross between acknowledgment and judgement, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You said-“ Again Max panics, but Billy cuts her off this time with a simple assurance of, “And I didn’t do anything.”
Her eyebrows knit together, realizing that that wasn’t a lie, “I.. guess you didn’t.”
“What’s your first class anyways?”
“We report to the cafeteria before first period.” She informs him, leading him that way, but he hooks two fingers through the strap on her bag to stop her, “Not gonna happen, Maxi. Being shoved in a tiny room with three hundred other kids makes you feel all ‘meltdowny’ I think was your exact word. So you’re not doin’ that anymore. I just decided.”
“But that’s against the rules.”
“Yeah, so’s me bein’ in this building during school hours, but nobody’s saying shit to me, are they?”
Max narrows her eyes at him then, and he knows he said too much, that he’s been found out, “That’s your plan isn’t it.”
There’s a crooked smile on his face he can’t hide as he plays innocent-like, “What is?”
Max pushes him a little and he pretends to misstep while she accuses him, “Coming into school and being all intimidating so nobody will bug me anymore.”
“Pfft, yeah right.” Billy denies again, getting nothing but an eye roll in response at first, but when it’s clear it’s he’s not going to give up and admit it, Max does, glancing shortly over at him, “Well thanks anyways, Billy.”
She adds, realizing he’s wandering with no idea where they’re going, having never been in the middle school himself, “My first class is in B-18.”
“Which one is’at?” He asks, just curious, but Max deflects the question, giving a short, “It’s taught by Mr. Clarke.”
Just from how quiet she is, Billy can tell that she's hiding something, “Max. You seriously don’t even know what class you’re in?”
“No I don’t, okay?” Max stops in the middle of the hallway, ranting at her brother, “It’s already not the same as my old school, and then they moved my schedule all around again after they decided I didn’t qualify for special ed, so now I just go where I’m s’posed to, and I know my teachers better than my classes.”
“And you didn’t tell anyone, did you?”
“No. There’s nothing anyone can do so it doesn’t matter.” Her tone implies she thought a lot about it, maybe even wanted to, but decided not to.
Billy insists right back, these past two days feeling like he’s constantly petitioning for Max to trust and rely on him, “Oh I could do somethin’. You know I could.”
“I do. But I don’t want you to. Sticking up for me is enough.”
That’s what makes Billy understand. The firmness in her voice says everything she needs him to hear: Max doesn’t want Billy to do for her what she can handle. This is bigger than just being the older brother. This is her setting boundaries, asking for help without wanting to be controlled. That’s something he never really got how to do, being raised by a dictator and all, but it’s something she needs. Sometimes he forgets that.
He doesn’t say anything else, just lets it sit while Max takes him down some stairs to the right room. She stops outside, scuffing up the dusty marble floors with the toe of her Chuck Taylor’s, “Could you.. stick around for a little bit in case he says something?”
Billy clicks his tongue, remarking, “I dunno. I got a class in a few..”
But his sarcasm falls short with Max, which, that’s his bad for not realizing that it would, and her face falls, “Oh, well I guess I can just-”
“Was just funnin’ you shitbird. I don’t give a fuck about my classes.” Max grimaces in that all too familiar way of uncertainty, so he promises, “I’ll be right out here. Go talk to your teacher, ‘n if he says some shit to you, remember I only promised not be stupid about the bully.”
He at least gets a smile for that one, before Max rolls her eyes, “You’re not fighting my science teacher, dummy.”
“Whatever. Just get in there, brat.”
He can see Max holding back a smile as she listens, bounding into her classroom with another quick glance back at Billy to check that he wasn’t lying and going to walk away.
Billy waits until the door fall closed to lean against the row of lockers opposite it, watching her through the little meshed over windows. By now, he’s pretty well versed on what arguments with angry authority figures look like, and the conversation between Max and her teacher is not one. He still stays though, just because Max asked him to, but maybe, just maybe a little for himself, a reassurance that the second he leaves shit isn’t going to get worse, and Max’ll have at least someone other than her equally as nerdy little friends behind her.
Then they both turn and give him a little wave, Max and her teacher, an acknowledgment to Billy that this new routine was indeed going to work out. The way the school district had handled everything else, he wonders if the guy even knew Max wasn’t like his other students until now.
Still, seeing that, Billy gives a half nod in response, and decides his job is done here, at least until tomorrow when he does the same. Max’ll get used to it, and his hope is that the little bully brats won’t. He’ll just have to keep them on their toes.
Which is exactly why, while on his way out, Billy has to break his promise to Max, just slightly, and do something dumb. He finds the Troy kid again, and waits until the little punk is at his peak to knock him down a few pegs.
He’s complaining about some teacher, which is pretty typical for a thirteen-fourteen year old kid, but the other things he’s said to Max make it not as relatable, not as innocent. So he does what any logical, mature adult would do, and scares the piss out of him.
Billy waits until the kid gets a laugh from his troop of assholes, and slams the locker door beside him shut, uncaring of who’s it was. All eyes are quickly on him, all too wide against too pale faces. It’s too easy.
“What are you little shits whining about over here?”
The one in charge steps forward, trying to be tough despite the way he has to practically bend backwards to look up at Billy’s face, “None of your business. Did the freak send you after us to scare us? It ain’t gonna work.”
“Oh I’m not here to scare you. I’m just here to give you your final warning. We’re past the point of intimidation. Matter of fact, next time I have to come here.. it won’t be looking so good for you.”
“You’re lying.” The kid accuses, despite the obvious doubt written behind his features.
Billy can work with that.
“I might be. But I’m still an authority figure over your sorry little asses, and if you don’t start respecting that..” He bends down a little further, still nowhere near the kid but making his whole troupe flinche back, and drops his pitch, “well, I can’t promise what’ll happen to ya, but unlike your teachers, I don’t play by the rules. You got that?”
Straightening himself back out, Billy pretends to start walking away before he adds, “Oh, and if you pick on my kid sister ever again, I will know. Just remember that, uh, Troy was it?”
The kid nods dumbly, literally vibrating with something like fear, and Billy can say he’s pretty satisfied with that. He pats the kid on the shoulder, a touch so gentle it wouldn’t’ve hurt a fly, and notably couldn’t get him in any trouble, but the little shit scampers off, three other puffy head bullies trailing after him.
Everyone sees it happen, Billy with his nasty smirk and his distinguishably high-schooler way of carrying himself, Troy running for the hills in the other direction. He leaves feeling like his point has been thoroughly proven.
It isn’t easy to make Maxine Mayfield cry, but it’s even harder to get away with it, and Billy knows it won’t be a problem from now on.
Please do a story where autistic max is getting bullied and billy steps in
warnings for ableism and implied child abuse.
Max is fourteen now. She doesn’t need anybody looking after her like she’s some baby or something just because she’s, as her mother had put it when she was refusing this very same notion, special. She can handle herself.
That’s what she believes at least, and definitely what Billy does too, the both of them tired of being babysit and doing the babysitting respectively, but her mother is very adamant on keeping her pearls clutched in one hand and the other tight fisted in any decision or action her daughter makes.
So naturally, because this is the same woman that thinks Max is immature and faking half her symptoms go spit her, she also assumes she’s completely incapable of taking care of herself, whether that’s because she’s disabled or because she’s a faker is another story, so that’s the way things go anyways, with her step brother having to watch her like she’s still seven years old and meeting him for the first time.
Their relationship is on the upswing after things settled in Hawkins, but Max still wants her independence and Billy wants to give it to her, the last thing a seventeen year old boy really want is to watch his little sister like she’s on a play date, so their usual agreement is for Billy to take Max wherever he gets told to take her and just drop her off, finding something else to do in the area until it’s time to pick her up.
That system had yet to fail them, so when Max gets an invite to the arcade literally the day after she gets ungrounded after sneaking out again for the third time since they moved to Hawkins and begs her mother for literal hours to let her go this time, the compromise is that she can go, but only as long as Billy goes with her, and just like usual, he just drops her off at the door with a promise to be back before too late, and drives off to go do something she probably doesn’t want to know the details of.
Her friends are already there, and they all play together for a little bit, but while Max was bargaining for permission and waiting for Billy to get his lecture from both parents before they could even think about leaving for the arcade, Lucas and Mike and Dustin and Will had already been there and playing, so by the time she showed up, it didn’t take long for them to get bored of being there or run out of pocket change.
Max doesn’t like plans changing though, and she came to the arcade to play, so even as the last of the party is getting on their bikes or in their own respective cars to be picked up, she just waves goodbye from the door before turning sharply back to the dig dug cabinet, too set on replacing every high score with her name to just leave on a whim because her friends were.
Similarly, Max also finds it pretty hard to keep track of time. It’s like once she starts doing something she planned to do, she has to finish it, so by the time she’s gotten bored of literally everything there is to play in the place and spent nearly every last quarter she’d been collecting for the weeks she was confined to the house as punishment, it’s already fallen dark outside, the arcade close to closing.
That’s not really a problem in it of itself, she has no curfew anymore now that she’s not off the hook, and anyways that was only ever about punishment, not safety, since her mother said bad things don’t happen in small towns. Billy argued that they do if you’re the right kind of person though, for which he got promptly smacked in the mouth, but Max thinks he’s probably right.
Because she’s autistic and she has a gay older brother, and currently she’s one of only a handful of kids left at the arcade at closing, and that is exactly the problem. Max is alone, at night, in a town that’s still mostly unfamiliar as with the person who was supposed to be watching her nowhere in sight, and she’s being tailed as she goes towards the double door exit by the only other kids there, two boys and a girl all at least a year older than her whose names she’d never really caught.
This wouldn’t be her first run in with this group. She’s just an easy target, and that’s exactly what they’re looking for, and these three had been picking on her practically since she showed her face in the arcade for the first time. Only they’d never really stayed this late, and the extent of their tormenting was typically unoriginal insults thrown from the other side of the room that she was bored of and could ignore pretty easily.
She’d like to think that maybe this wasn’t a bad thing going to happen, just a coincidence that those three were still lurking around. Keith was about to close up the arcade anyways, so they were probably just waiting until it closed to leave too.
Max realizes that definitely isn’t the case though when the second they’re out those glass front doors, the girl roughly snatches her bag off of her shoulder.
Usually she’d leave the bag in Billy’s car when she went out somewhere, but she had enough extra money saved up tonight that she wanted it in a change purse instead of her pocket so she didn’t lose it, and since the change purse was small and easy to misplace and her brain a little bit flighty, she just brought the whole bag.
The whole bag which happened to have everything of importance to her in it, not only her money, but also her notebook, her school id, and all of her stim toys.
By her parents' rules, she wasn’t allowed to stim loudly or in a way they deemed embarrassingly, especially not in public, so she brought toys with her everywhere, and now they were being stolen from her because she was too busy trying to think like Susan, that nothing bad could possibly happen, unless of course she brought it on herself, but that’s just not the case.
And either way, she needed those toys back, the situation at home worsening and leaving behind her favorite behavior therapist during the move and so many other things had made her stress skyrocket, and likewise her meltdowns, so she truly needed those toys to help her.
“Give that back!” Max insists after a pause where she was trying to wrap her mind around what was happening, and tries to snatch the bag back, grabbing the straps and trying to pull it back towards herself when the girl starts rummaging through it.
All that gets her is being shoved roughly into one of the boys, who grabs onto her arm tight enough to leave bruises in the shape of his fingertips on her pale skin, and a taunting sneer of, “Sorry, retard. Finders keepers.”
The girl digs around in her bag, looking for a wallet or a checkbook or something, but Max wasn’t even trusted to take her walkie talkie out of the house, let alone any actual money other than the quarters she and Billy saved up, so other than the now empty coin purse, she was broke.
When all she finds is Max’s things, she drops the bag, making everything she’d disrupted spill out of it, and curses, “What the hell is all this junk?”
Max isn't really listening though, because the minute the bag spilt, the two boys took to picking the things they thought might be of value, and in the case of the things they didn’t, like her magic snake that clicked in just the right way when it moved, they’d drop them again, and literally stomp on them, or snap them in two first.
Her mind is much too focused on watching her toys be broken or stolen, that just she doesn’t hear it when she’s asked a question. She very much feels the consequence though, a slap to the back of the head from the boy who didn’t have a grip on her arm hard enough to make her neck sore and bring tears to her eyes, so she forces herself to tune back into things.
“We asked you a question, dumbass. Why are you carrying around a bag of toys like a baby or somethin’?”
“B-Because I need them so I can stim.” Max answers honestly, trying her damndest not to cry, to prove to them she was not a baby, but it didn’t feel like it was too far off, as she was getting more and more emotionally overwhelmed, also getting closer and closer to a meltdown.
“Stim? What the hell is that?” She hears one of the boys ask, and the other chimes in, “Probably something to do with being retarded.”
The older girl snaps at the boys arguing behind Max, “Does it matter? Let’s just take her money and get the hell out of here.”
They keep arguing, and Max is again past the point of processing really anything that’s going on around her, the arcade with all its lights and noises and crowds was already an overwhelming sensory experience, and now with the other kids shouting at her and the aching bruises that were now forming on her skin, it’s all just too much for her.
It’s for that reason that she doesn’t have enough focus left for it to really click what’s happening other than the kids surrounding her freezing up, and bright lights and loud noises that make her squeeze her eyes shut and cover her ears.
What it is though is Billy, brights on, stopping with the front two wheels of the camaro on the sidewalk, and slamming his door hard enough as he gets out that it echoes off the trees way at the back of the arcade.
Billy’s yelling too, threats to call the police and damnation and all kinds of things that Max is too busy trying to remember how to breathe and pick up everything that had spilled out of her bag to hear, and the bullies end up scampering off once Billy’s voice gets scratchy and angry in that way it gets when he and Neil argue, dropping everything where it was and just bolting.
Max hears Billy sigh and sees his kneel down next to her, his face so much kinder to her than he had looked for those kids who were hurting her, come into her limited line of sight as he kneels down next to her on the sidewalk, which she hadn’t even noticed she had sat down on, and he asks her, “You okay, Max?”
And at first, Max was going to say yes, she’d taken worse than that from teachers who didn’t want stim toys in class and as punishments from her parents, but it scared her, the way that he had asked, because he didn’t call her shitbird or kiddo or brat face, he called her by her name, and she bursts into tears almost immediately after he asks.
She’s still not really in a meltdown, which was exhausting, those emotions needed to come out and they just weren't, but it’s still bad enough Billy has to sit fully down on the sidewalk and wait it out with her before they can get back in the car. He puts his hand high on her chest and makes her sit up straight to keep her breathing under control and lets her rock herself until Max’s heavy sobs eventually slow to a couple of stray tears, and then she nods, a wordless way to tell Billy she was ready to go home.
Before they can leave though, they still have more to talk about, a conversation that they don’t want their parents a part of, and they both know it. Still, the car is silent for a minute, nothing but the sound of Max’s sniffles and the creak of the leather steering wheel cover cracking under the pressure of Billy’s angry grip, fists opening and closing around it.
Max is the first to break it, her voice so weak with residual fear and tears it’s barely audible as she gets her brothers attention, “Billy?”
He sighs through his nose, to try to calm down before he talks to Max more than anything, and lets go of the wheel, knowing that was only making things worse, “What is it, kiddo?”
“Are you going to tell?” She’s doing that thing where she presses her palms together and pushes until her knuckles turn white, very clearly nervous asking, so Billy clarifies, “Do you want me to tell?”
Immediately Max shakes her head no. They both know this little incident could get them back on lockdown, Max because her mother would be worried for her precious, breakable little daughter, and Billy because he was supposed to be there.
Not that Billy gave a shit about saving his own hide at the moment, but if Max didn’t want him to tell and get them in heaps of trouble, he wouldn’t, and that’s exactly what he tells her, “Then no, we’ll keep it between us, but you gotta have an excuse ready for those bruises and scrapes.”
Max shrugs, almost too nonchalant, “I’m a skater, skaters get lots of injuries.”
“Don’t think I like how quick you came up with that.” Billy looks over at her, and Max’s gaze shifts to the window behind him as she responds bluntly, “Yeah, well I learned from the best, didn't I?”
“I guess you did.” Billy sighs, doesn’t like to admit the influence he’s had on Max’s in that way. He wants to lead a good example, be the big brother she needed him to be and instead he was teaching her how to lie to her parents and make excuses for injuries.
Though really, in the case of their parents, he guesses that was exactly the type of brother he needed to be. One who teaches her how to avoid her abusers instead of how to avoid annoying boys at school, and who will help her figure out loopholes to punishments and rules instead of her math homework. Just the thought of that concept makes his chest ache.
He starts the car, noting that the vibrations of the engine through the car help to ease the tension out of Max’s shoulders and revving it a couple more times than necessary, “Let’s just get you home, shitbird.”
