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They make an odd group, their little trio. Will in the passenger seat of the Beemer, Steve next to him and Billy Hargrove curled up in the backseat.
He’d gotten a couple hours alone with Steve before they reached the hospital in Missouri to pick up Billy. Will had waited in the car while Steve went inside. He hadn’t known what to expect. He’s never seen Billy after one of his stints in the hospital. But the double doors had opened, and they’d stepped outside, two dark figures in the setting sun.
Steve had walked behind Billy, with his arms slightly outstretched, palms up, as though he was ready to catch him should he fall.
And for good reason, too, Will thinks, glancing back at Billy through the rear view mirror. He can’t help but question why Billy’s being released from the hospital at all. He still looks ill, more grey than pale, dark bags below his eyes. Fragile.
He’s leaning against the door, hands crossed in his lap and eyes closed. It’s mostly that; the thought that Billy might be asleep, but also the fact that Will barely ever hears him talk, that makes Will turn to Steve with a frown.
“You really think this was a good idea?”
“What?” Steve asks, sounding confused in that way that Steve sometimes does. Will knows a lot of people think Steve’s stupid, but he’s not, he’s just distracted. He’s got too many thoughts beneath his big hair, and Will knows, because Will’s the same. At least he’s got his art as an outlet. When Will’s feeling too much, or thinking too much, he just grabs a pen and paper and everything goes calm, everything just drains out of him and soaks the paper.
Then he can make sense of stuff. Will doesn’t know if Steve has that.
He gestures to the backseat. “Getting him out of the hospital. He doesn’t seem… well.”
Steve sighs and bites his lip. It seems like he wants to say something, but doesn’t know if he should. Will sees him glance through the rear view mirror at Billy. “It’s not the first time I’ve picked him up,” he finally settles on.
Will figures that’s fair. He leans his head back against the seat and looks out the window, at the landscape flashing by outside.
Will never imagined he’d be here.
In a car with Billy Hargrove.
When Steve called the Wheelers, asked for him, and said, “You’re going home Tuesday, right? Want a ride? I’m picking up Billy, anyway.” Will hadn’t known what to say. In the end, he’d called home, and Argyle had answered, because his mum was out with El and Jonathan was in the bathroom, and he’d convinced him. “Let me get this right. You’d rather sit on a smelly old bus with like, fifty other people than spend what, forty-eight hours with Billy? In Steven’s nice car?” Will could hear how stupid it sounded. He’d called Steve back, and told him that “Yes, please, thank you, that would be great.”
And now he’s here.
Will doesn’t think anyone really knows what to do with Billy nowadays. Will’s not really sure anyone knows what they’re doing anymore at all.
It’s been a year, going on two, since that fateful 4th of July, and Will’s still not used to living away from Hawkins. His mum hasn’t dated anyone else since Hopper. Sometimes Robin and Vickie come over, and they usually bring Billy, but he’ll just sit statue-like in a corner. Will’s mum will hover around him, because that’s what she does, but Will always thinks that she looks like she doesn’t dare touch him.
Vickie’s the most comfortable around him. She’ll lay her head in his lap as she goes on one of her long rants, words running into each other and hands gesticulating above her. Will thinks that it’s because she’s only known him the way he is now. She doesn’t have anything to compare to.
Not that Will can say that he really knew him before the Mindflayer possessed him. He wasn’t there for the fight in November of ‘84, and it took him a while to warm up to Max.
But Vicky only knew of him in that casual way you know of the popular kids at school. Then she met Robin during band practice and they started dating, and Robin was already hanging out with Billy then, and-
Come to think of it, Will doesn’t know how that happened, either.
Maybe he should ask next time he sees her.
—
They stop at a gas station outside Kansas City. It looks odd out here, between the fields, the neon lights stark in the darkness.
Steve turns around in his seat and shakes Billy awake with a hand on his knee. “Hey, Hargrove. I’m going to fill up the tank. If you want to go outside for a bit. Buy a snack, or something.”
Billy doesn’t react, just stays silent in the car, leaning against the door the way he’s done the entire ride.
Steve just sighs, and Will follows him outside.
I should get a pick-up , Will thinks, leaning against the side of Steve’s car and looking up at the sky. Thinks he could take someone, a boy, maybe, outside, on a night, dark like this, and they could sit in the bed of it and stare up at the stars.
The door to the backseat opens, and Billy shuffles outside. Will only shoots him a quick glance, sees him walk towards the store with hunched shoulders, and then turns his gaze back to the stars.
Steve’s voices draws Will’s attention less than a minute later. “Something wrong, ma’am?”
“Your friend’s shaking like a leaf,” the shopkeeper says. She’a an older woman, walking just a step behind Billy, who’s hugging himself, minute trembles going through his whole frame.
It’s strange to see Billy now.
He’s grown more slender than muscular, and his clothes dwarf him. His blonde curls are pulled up into a loose bun on the back of his head.
Will remembers the first time he saw Billy after Starcourt. He’d looked like a wraith.
Steve sighs again. He rounds the car, opens the door to Billy’s seat and comes back with an old jean jacket.
“You got a fever?” Will hears him quietly ask as he hands Billy the jacket.
“Fuck off,” Billy mutters, but it’s said without any real heat or malice.
Steve just pats him on the arm as he turns around and follows the shopkeeper back in. He fills the tank back up, turns to Will. “You hungry?”
Will shakes his head. Mrs. Wheeler packed him a big lunch, and he ate it in the car before they got to Mississippi.
“‘Kay. I’ve gotta go piss.”
Will’s still alone when Billy comes back out. He’s a little surprised when he doesn’t go back into the car, when he comes to lean against it next to Will.
“You can ask,” Billy says, and Will assumes that means he’s going to answer. “You always look like you want to ask.”
Will turns to look at him. He’s got a chocolate bar in hand. “What were you doing in the hospital?”
Billy takes a bite of the chocolate, chews, swallows. “Got sick.” He won’t look at Will, and he shrugs, smiling crookedly. “You’ve got a nice jacket,” he says, and turns around, walking around the car to get back to his seat.
Will stuffs his hands deep into the pockets of his leather jacket, and looks back up at the night sky.
—
When they get to the motel, Will waits with Billy while Steve goes to get them room keys. He comes back with two of them, throws one to Will, who’s proud he catches it.
“Got you your own room, Will. Billy, you’re with me.”
“I’m not a fucking invalid, Steve,” Billy says, but he does push himself away from the car and start walking.
“Calm down,” Steve says. “At least it’s got two beds this time. And I promised your sister. And roommates.” He looks over at Will. “We leave early tomorrow. I want us to try to get to Utah.”
Will gives a thumbs up, and turns toward his own room.
—
After a slightly awkward breakfast at a diner during which Billy didn’t speak a word and Steve seemed to be trying to engage Will in pretending he wasn’t there, they turn down a dirt road and come to a stop outside a nondescript building, grey and seemingly windowless. Like a giant dropped a brick coated in concrete and attached a door.
“Billy?” Steve asks. “You got your prescription?”
Billy hands him a slip of paper, and Steve gets out and disappears around the corner.
He’s only gone for a few minutes, and when he gets back it’s with a little brown paper bag. Will can’t help but find all of this a little sketchy, but he’s not going to ask.
They drive in relative silence for the next few miles, until Billy pushes himself forward, in between the front seats. Will sees Steve’s eyes shift to look at him in the rear view mirror.
“Can we stop,” Billy says, and it’s not really a question. He sounds desperate. “I need… I need to breathe.”
Will’s about to offer to just roll his window down when Steve nods, and puts his turn signal on. They stop on the side of the road, other cars speeding by on the highway. Billy hurries out, both Will and Steve watching him through the mirror as he leans against the trunk door.
Will’s a little surprised when Steve starts speaking. Even more surprised when he realises he’s answering Will’s unspoken question from yesterday.
“He gets like… sick, really randomly. Sometimes he’s fine, like, for weeks, or months, and then… he’ll get sick,” Steve starts. Will looks at him, sees he’s still keeping his gaze turned to the rear view mirror, still keeping an eye on Billy. “He’s got trouble keeping food down, or he gets a fever that won’t go down, and he ends up fucking delirious, thinking he’s still possessed. Sometimes his wounds hurt, for no reason, and Robin says he won’t move for days. And I just-“ Steve’s eyes widen and he breaks off whatever he was going to say. He checks there’s no car coming up and then he’s out, rounding the car.
Will looks up at the rear view mirror, just in time to see Billy collapse and disappear from view. There’s a spike of fear in Will’s belly, and part of him wants to get out, go to him, see if he can help, but then Steve’s there, and Will stays rooted in his seat.
The door to the backseat behind Will opens, and he turns around to see Steve stocking his head in. “Give me a water bottle.”
Will can do that. He’s glad to be given a task he can do. Glad to help, at least a little. He feels on edge, has felt on edge ever since they neared the hospital yesterday.
He’s got a cooler on the floor by his feet, and he opens it, gets out a bottle, hands it to Steve.
“He threw up,” Steve explains, and then he’s gone, closing the door behind him.
Will can’t help but wrinkle his nose at the waft of vomit that passes into the car. He’s not sure if he’d rather his mum was here, or that he wasn’t. It feels wrong to not do anything, but at the same time he doubts Billy would want Will to see him right now.
Will knocks his head back against the seat and sighs.
—
After an equally as tense dinner, Will finds himself once again alone with Billy while Steve gets their room keys at the new motel in Utah. The moon is bright above them.
Will started smoking after barely a month in California. It was the stress of being in a new place, so far from his friends, that one day after school he and El saw his mum’s pack on the table, and ended up stealing one each.
He’s on his second cigarette when Billy breaks the silence.
“Smells like chlorine, doesn’t it?”
At first, Will thinks he means his cigarettes. “Huh?”
“The air. Smells like chlorine. You think this place has got a pool?”
“I… I don’t know,” Will says. He’s staring at Billy, but Billy isn’t looking at Will. He’s head is turned down, eyes fixed on the patch of gravel he’s moving about with one dirty, black booth.
“I’m not deaf, you know,” Billy mutters. His voice doesn’t exactly sound small, but somewhere close to it.
“What?” Will’s not following this conversation at all . It’s not a feeling he’s used to.
“I can hear what you say. In the car. ‘You really think this was a good idea? Getting him out of the hospital?’” he explains, and that sounds more like the Billy Will’s used to. Or, not really the one he’s used to, because Will never really knew him. He was just a face in the car picking the new girl up, the one his friends were all obsessing over. And then he was possessed by a monster.
So Will guesses it’s more accurate to say that he sounds more like what Will thinks Billy used to sound like. Cheeky, a bit like he’s trying to rile him up, a little amused.
“Come closer,” Billy says.
This time he does turn to face Will, and his eyes are big and blue and too tired for a nineteen year old. The corner of his mouth is turned up in a halfhearted smile.
Will steps closer.
“I’m not allowed to smoke anymore,” Billy explains. “So. Secondhand smoking it is.”
Will must be feeling brave. Or perhaps it’s just that he recognised that look in Billy’s eyes. Will, too, is too tired for sixteen.
“I get it, you know. What it’s like being possessed,” he elaborates, when Billy doesn’t seem like he gets where Will’s going.
Billy’s smile falls, and he turns away. “It’s not the same.”
“No, yeah, but. I know what’s it’s like to have him in your head, have him use you.”
“No.” Billy’s voice is hard, final.
“What?”
“It’s not the same. It’s not the same, because you knew what was going on, you had people who wanted to save you, and he didn’t make you fucking kill anyone.”
Will’s left silent for a moment. Then he says, “Max wanted to save you,” because he doesn’t know what to say to the other stuff.
Billy huffs a breath. He rolls his eyes, even though it seems to pain him to do so. “Funny way of showing it. No one gave me a chance until I’d really cracked.”
Will doesn’t know what to say. Luckily, he doesn’t have to think long, because Steve comes back and Billy leaves. Will can’t help but feel like something was lost, just now.
—
Will stays awake for a long while, thinking about what Billy said. So long, in fact, that it’s Steve who wakes him by banging on his door in the morning.
They end up leaving the motel later than they’d planned, and Will doesn’t want his mum to worry and Billy doesn’t want Vicky or Robin to worry, although he doesn’t really say it in so many words, and Steve doesn’t want anyone to worry if they’re late, so they decide to eat breakfast in the car.
Which means that Will’s alone in the car park with Billy while Steve goes inside the diner to get their food as takeaway.
Despite how bad it went last night, Will decided he’s going to be brave again. Who knows when the next time he’ll be alone with Billy is.
“You said yesterday that no one gave you a chance ‘until you’d really cracked’. Did you mean… Did you mean that you were already a little broken?“ He’s not looking at Billy when he asks, instead staring straight ahead out the windscreen. If Billy doesn’t want to answer, then Will would prefer not to be looking at him.
But Billy does answer. “Sure. That’s what I meant.” There’s something off about his voice. An edge, like broken glass.
Will thinks about his dad, and Jonathan putting on music when their parents would fight, and then, just like he did last night when he couldn’t sleep, he thinks about how Max took charge when El was hurt at Bradley’s Big Buy, how she knew everything about first aid, how she’s complained about her stepfather and how relieved she seemed when she told them that Billy was moving back to California, despite how attached she’d seemed to have grown after the Mindflayer, after she’d spent so much of her summer worrying about if he’d ever wake up.
He’s sure Lucas knows, would know if Billy’s dad hurt her, but Will still thinks he should reach out. Maybe check with El.
But for now, he tries to ask Billy about something a little happier.
“How did you start hanging out with Robin?”
Billy lets out a low sound, and it takes Will a moment to realise that it’s a laugh. “She started hanging out with me.” Will hears him sigh. “She was there when I woke up that summer. Had apparently been there a lot. You know all the shit was knew to her, too? All my friends either graduated or left me to rot, but Robin, well. We bonded over being new to Hawkins’ freak show.”
Will thinks this might be the most he’s ever heard Billy speak in one go. Last night, and now.
Steve gets back with their food, and they drive down to California, the radio playing low.
Will wonder if he’s ever going to know Billy better, if he’s ever going to fully understand him. These last three days might’ve involved the longest one on one conversations they’ve ever had, but they’ve all been about the past, or unimportant stuff.
Maybe Billy doesn’t want to talk about the present with Will. Maybe Billy doesn’t know who he is, now, anymore, after everything. Will’s not sure he knows who he is, either.
Maybe some people don’t want to me known. Maybe some are scared of being discovered.