Sometimes people disappeared in Hawkins. The police never found any rhyme or reason, and since no bodies were ever discovered, no murders could be proven.
People just disappeared sometimes, just up and left without a word. At least, that was the general tone surrounding the mystery, so that the people of Hawkins could continue sleeping at night.
When Billy came to town, he heard as much but didn't think anything of it. After all, he would be one of those names soon enough; someone who disappeared out of Hawkins without a single goodbye, headed back west.
That was the reason he had nearly been caught in his dad’s truck. Neil was pissed at Billy for something or another and had taken his keys. Billy needed his keys to go out looking for work to earn money for his escape. After being unable to find his keys in the house, he’d started poking around the carport and Neil’s truck.
A moment of panic when he heard footsteps had him hiding under the tarp in the bed of the truck. Billy had no idea where Neil was going, couldn’t see anything and only had a small idea that they were out towards the woods when the truck pulled off to the side.
It was dark out, so Billy thought if he held very still then he wouldn’t be caught.
Then he heard another car pull up. He heard his dad talking, he couldn’t make out words but knew the low and threatening tone. Just as he started to strain his hearing, try and make out what was being said, there was a loud thump.
Neil groaned but it was quickly cut off. It was a wet sound, hard but also muted, but Billy had been in enough fights to have an idea of what it could be.
Slowly, he raised his head, peeking out over the side of the truck. In the twilight of the day, he almost didn’t believe what he was seeing.
There was the sound like ocean waves overtaking his hearing, like the white noise he’d heard of when someone was in a state of shock. The sound of the ocean seemed fitting when he saw Steve Harrington’s eyes: dead and black like a shark.
The look on his face was similar to the night at the Byers house, and the bat he was wielding looked to be the same one Max used to threaten him. Steve wasn’t threatening though. He was calmly, serenely even, bringing it down on a still and bloody Neil Hargrove’s head.
Then Steve paused mid-swing, rested the bat on his shoulder, and he looked directly at Billy with the tiniest smile.
“Here,” Steve bent down and snatched up the keys that Neil dropped. He tossed them into the truck next to Billy. “Drive home. I’ll clean up.”
His bat was dripping. He’d used it to murder a grown man in less than two minutes. Billy slowly reached for the keys while keeping his eyes locked on Steve. But there was no other reaction to him, not when Billy got out of the back, not when he climbed into the front seat, and not when he drove off.
When someone witnessed a murder, they were supposed to go to the police. But Billy never had faith in the cops, from the way they tended to hassle him about his clothes and earring, to the way they failed to care about his injuries as a child.
He went home, quietly parked the truck, got out and looked at the house. The windows were dark, Susan probably still had Max out shopping.
Billy went inside and put the keys on the table. Two hours later, he feigned ignorance when Susan came.
Forty-eight hours later, he feigned ignorance when the cops came.
Close to the end of the week, when no body or evidence was found, Neil Hargrove’s name was added to the list. Just another person who disappeared.
During all of that time, Steve seemed completely normal when Billy saw him around school. He still moped, still jumped, still made weird faces and would break into mumbled song every now and then. Nothing about him hinted at what Billy had seen that night.
Right up until Steve paused in the locker room, looking at Billy. Something about his face was off and Billy tensed, feeling very aware that the closest witness was on the other side of the room.
“Can we talk?” Steve asked.
Billy forced a half-smile. “Anything for you, princess,” he said with a wink. Steve walked away without reacting, and Billy left school that day without seeing Steve again.
The front door was unlocked when he got home. For an instant, Billy thought Max had beaten him back and hadn’t locked it. But as he started to push it open, he realized that it wouldn’t be possible for Max to beat him home without passing him on the road.
He didn’t step inside as the door slowly swung open. From the doorway he saw Steve sitting in the middle of the couch, the spiked bat resting across his lap.
“Hey Billy,” Steve greeted him as if nothing in the world was wrong. He smiled, just this side of goofy, and tilted his head. “Do you know how much money it costs to be allowed to kill someone?”
Billy watched him warily, but Steve made no move to stand.
“It’s a trick question,” Steve continued. “It depends on who you have to pay.”
“How much did you pay this time?” Billy asked, gauging how fast he could make it back to his car. If Steve gave chase, Billy might not escape completely.
“That’s up to you,” Steve said. “How much would you charge me?”
He’d thought many times that he wished Neil would disappear. But at the same time, Neil was his father and the devil he knew. Where would he go if Susan didn’t want him there? Billy didn’t have the money to get back to California.
“I have to figure it out. How much it would cost to go back.” He couldn’t help but watch Steve’s face, noting the deep brown of his eyes that made them look so much warmer than before. “But I won’t tell. Haven’t yet.”
“Mm, I noticed you don’t seem to like the cops here.”
“All cops are bastards,” Billy said out of habit. “But so was my dad.”
“Did you cry?” Steve asked with his eyes big and alive.
Billy hadn’t. After the shock wore off, all he felt was relief. His life had been thrown into chaos, he didn’t know how he would live since his only family was dead.
But it hadn’t hurt. In a way, both of his parents had been dead to him since his mom told him she was never coming back, and he had the rude awakening that he would never have the sort of family he saw on TV.
“Good,” Steve sighed. “I didn’t do it to hurt you.”
Billy hadn’t really considered Steve’s motive. He readily accepted the idea that Steve was just a psycho. He wasn’t sure what sort of face he made that Steve took it as an invitation to step closer.
“I did it because he hurt you.” Steve lifted his head, and the only reason Billy left his cheek be cupped was because Steve’s other hand was still holding his bat. “The cops don’t always protect people. And if they won’t,” he trailed off, looking at Billy in the same way Billy had seen him look at those stupid kids.
“After everything?” Billy asked curiously.
“It was different between you and me,” Steve frowned. It felt sort of nice when he stroked Billy’s cheek with his thumb. “I saw him, a couple weeks ago, at the lumberyard.”
Billy remembered the episode at the lumberyard. Neil said he was moving too slow, said Billy didn’t care about the family home, said all sorts of shit to which Billy had simply answered, “yes, sir.”
And when they didn’t have an audience, Billy got a backhand across the face and a punch to the gut, before Neil told him not to roll his eyes.
“You fought back with me,” Steve finished.
“Were you really fighting back?” Billy couldn’t help but ask.
“I’m not great without this,” Steve grinned and lifted the bat, but he lowered it when he felt Billy flinch. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“To protect you,” Billy was close enough to watch the change in Steve’s eyes, to see as the shark took over. “I’m protecting people.”
Billy gulped at the insinuation. He covered Steve’s hand on his cheek before those eyes went entirely black. “I know,” he said lowly, his mouth felt so dry. “I know, Harrington. Thank you.”
Steve smiled, and Billy felt it like the sun hitting his face. “Let me know how much you need when you figure it out, okay?”
Steve strolled around him, singing the song from Risky Business under his breath as he closed the front behind him. Billy let out a breath and sank onto the couch. The sound of the ocean was back in his ears.
