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Things can get ugly when siblings fight, but it's an argument that Billy desperately needs to move forward. Max is hiding something underneath her sleeve that might finally turn his life around.
24 hours later ...
Neither of them seemed to know what to say for quite some time. There was not even a hello, not yet. She sat on the chair in front of Billy's bed, hands folded in her lap, fidgeting and fumbling with her fingers and gaze glued to the floor. Flaming red hair covered her face, making it all but impossible to catch a glimpse of her blue eyes.
Billy was not used to that look on her. She hated being vulnerable in front of him because he would usually ridicule her for it. He would tell her to put that stupid frown out of her face, to stop being a bitch about whatever her problem was. She would tell him to shut up and flip the finger without a second thought. Or stick out her tongue, maybe.
This time, Billy had no intention to lash out on her. There was no reason to this time. Then again, there never was a reason, accept for the irritation that he had to look after her again, or that she made him wait two minutes when he picked her up from school. Billy only looked at her for what seemed like full ages until he couldn't take the silence anymore.
What the fuck do you say in a situation like this?
Billy pursed his lips. "You okay?" Someone had to start, and with Max looking so tense and miserable, it wasn't gonna be her. There was no security in the room with them. He found that odd but wasted no thought on it.
Max swallowed. "Sure."
"Doesn't look like it."
"Well, I'm not the one in a hospital bed," she snarled.
"Look, if you don't wanna be here, just fuck off, okay?" Billy snapped back. "I don’t need this crap. Save ourselves the misery."
Max finally looked up, her eyes almost as fiery as her hair. "I want to be here! I came here myself, you know. No one asked me to."
If looks could kill, Billy was sure he'd die a second time. He was fine with that idea but not that Max was the killer.
"Oh, what, do you want a fucking gold medal or something? Why would you waste your time with this bullshit?"
Max' fiery eyes welled up with tears then. She got up from her chair, the push of her legs forcing it to fall over backwards with a deafening thud, and she screamed out the anger she had bottled up inside for way too long.
"BECAUSE YOU ALMOST DIED, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!"
Billy could do nothing but stare up at her from his position, forced to let a 14-year old yell at him as though he was the child of the two.
Then again...
He really was the child of the two, wasn't he? Since his 18th birthday, Billy liked to believe that he was an adult now, but the events leading up to — and including — the Starcourt incident taught him one hell of a lesson. Adults usually know what they are doing, right? However, Billy had already realized that he never knew what the fuck he was doing. And then, there was his 14-year old, dumb little step-sister — who he always thought he couldn’t give less of a shit about — showing an amount of bravery and strength he could only dream of.
Yelling at him was only a fraction of that bravery.
She'd shown the rest when she tried to save Billy from the Mind Flayer's grasp. She'd fought with blood, and tears, and absolute fear, but she still fought. For her friends, for Hawkins, but above all, for him.
No one ever fought for him.
Max sighed in frustration. "Why aren't you saying anything?!"
Billy gave no reaction. This seemed to set off another fire inside the girl.
"Do you have the slightest idea what it was like to watch you like this?"
He didn't. He couldn't imagine seeing anyone like this, let alone himself. Her whole demeanor stunned him, took him back to that night, how Max was shaking his shoulders and begging him to stay awake. Even after everything had gone black, Billy could still hear her screaming his name in absolute terror and grief.
Billy gritted his teeth at the memory, clenching his fist as he glared back at Max. He just didn't get it.
"Cut it out," he growled, quietly, but dangerously.
"Cut what out?"
"Stop acting like you suddenly give a shit about me, Max."
"Billy, I'm not acting!"
"Yes, you are, and you gotta stop! I don't need your shit lies, okay?"
"I'm not lying—"
"You hate me, Max. I've made your life hell, and everyone else's, so tell me why the fuck you wanna get on my nerves so much!"
"Because it’s just like you said, wether we like it or not, we're family now, Billy. You're my brother, and I thought you were dying!" she said with her lower lip trembling. Her voice cracked more than it already had.
"Fine, alright, but you're not my damn sister!" Billy snapped back, and immediately regretted it when he saw her face. He’d previously sworn himself not to lash out on her, and he hated how easily he could break his principles just for the sake of dumb, old habits.
He didn't think it was possible to see even more pain in her eyes, but there she was, holding back her tears yet again. Max swallowed a lump down her throat, chewed on her lip, and then, to his surprise, she nodded.
"I know that. You've always said so... And I get it, Billy, because I'm a little bitch, like you always said, and I'm annoying, like you always said, and you hate me, like you always said— and if your mom had never left, you wouldn’t have to deal with me—"
"That has nothing to do with her..."
"Yes, it has! Everything's to do with her. Why you're a prick to everyone, why we hate each other, everything! And I'm so sorry, Billy. Mom and I wouldn't be in your life if your mom stayed with you, you would still be in California, not here, and none of this would have ever happened to you!"
"Max..."
"You know... there were times where I hoped that, maybe... some day... we could be something like friends... like a real brother and sister. And yes, I know that's stupid. You hate me. I hate you... But then I saw what that monster did to you, and I was so scared for you. I think so much about how I just stood there and did nothing when that monster was about to kill you. What if I ran to you and pushed you away?"
"Max, no, for fuck's sake!"
They locked eyes. Billy stared into hers thoroughly and shook his head, a dangerous glint on his face. The way he flared his nose and pursed his lips made it look like he was about to punch her. Or something, at least.
"Don't even start going there, hear me?" he threatened. "Don't. Shut the hell up, Max."
She glared back fearlessly, "And what if I don't? Will you break my stuff again? Threaten my friends, is that it? We've saved your ass, and you know it!"
"I never asked you to!"
Max couldn't but scoff at this response. She almost laughed and shook her head in disbelief. Billy started covering his ears by this point, making a face as though he was about to just break down. He couldn't take this, the fights, the screaming, the arguing, the pain in Max' voice. God, this shit had turned into such a fucking mess—
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she snapped, "I'm pretty sure you had no chance to say that when you were possessed by the Mind Flayer! I couldn't just let you die!"
"Perhaps you should've," he mumbled.
"No!" Max sobbed.
Billy looked back up at her again, his face distorted with confusion, frustration and exhaustion. He still didn't get it. Why she cried over the thought of losing him, of all people. Why the idea that, perhaps, Billy just didn't want to be saved seemed so horrible to her. Her life would've been better without him. He wanted to tell her to fuck off and leave him alone, but those words died on his tongue before they came out. There was so much to say, and yet he just remained quiet, watching her cry. No one ever cried for him like that. It left a terrible sting in his chest and he suddenly felt ill, because it was all his fault.
Max picked up the chair and sat back down, getting lost in a full blown cry, mumbling that she should have never even showed up here.
Outside the door, their argument was more than clear to hear.
"I thought the guy was supposed to get better?" one of the security guards said. "This is really stressful for a kid. Isn't he meant to heal?"
"Oh, he is getting better, he just doesn't know it yet," said Dr. Owens, "He rFeally needs this argument to get there, a push in the right direction, and his sister is perfect for that."
"He keeps saying that she's not his sister. He obviously doesn't care much about her."
Owens smiled. "He can say that as much as he likes. They have a history, shared trauma. He can’t deny that."
Back in the room, Max eventually calmed down again, sniffled, and wiped her tears. Like in the beginning, neither said a word for a while, the ticking clock on the wall making the passing of time without a word painfully hard to ignore. Billy stared into nothingness and Max hid her face. She had pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them, burying her eyes.
This time, however, she was the first to speak up again.
"Do you really think you're better off dead?" she asked quietly, scared of the answer. Max glanced at him, her blue eyes surrounded by red, puffy skin. Billy gave no response. There were moments where he had hope that things could be okay, that he deserved at least a little bit of forgiveness, but minutes later, he would always go back to questioning whether there was ever going to be a way out. He only shrugged.
"Billy, if you would just talk to me—"
"Why does everyone say that shit all the time?"
"Because it’s true. You can talk to me about everything, Billy, you know you can! I’ve been there, too, I've seen it all, and you must have so many questions—"
"That’s not how this works. How is just talking gonna make it all better? It’s not. You might think it does because you’re fourteen and everything seems easy to you. Talking doesn't do shit but make you miserable," Billy uttered. While his words were still not very kind, his voice was much calmer than before, and he gave off more exhausted than irritated auras anymore. The screaming and arguing drained him so much already, he was tired of it. Tired of fighting with Max every god damn day of their existence.
She didn’t deserve this.
Max only sighed. "I want to help you..."
"You can’t."
"We're family."
"We can say that as much as we want, it’s not true, Max."
The redhead reached her hand up to her face to rub her eyes, and that’s when Billy saw something that he always knew he never, ever wanted to see. The sudden tension in his stomach was so powerful, it felt like it twisted into knots, and before he could think about it, he barked "What is that?"
"What is what?"
Billy pointed his finger towards her arm, where her sleeve had briefly slipped up. Max swiftly shoved it back down. "Nothing," she said, looking away.
Her brother pressed his lips together, nose flared. "Max," he repeated, more stern this time, his blue eyes piercing hers thoroughly as he repeated himself: "What is that?"
She frowned. No answer.
Then, Billy promptly shoved his legs over the edge of the mattress and pushed his blanket away, revealing the insanely uncomfortable hospital gown. He hated this thing, an ill-fitted pyjama-type thing that squeezed him in all the wrong places even though it was way too big for him. But Billy couldn't care less about how stupid he looked right now, didn't give a shit. Before Max could move away, he threw his hand forward and grabbed her right wrist.
"Show it to me," he demanded, staring deeper into her eyes than ever before. Max tried to fight it at first, even though she knew he was stronger—
"Stop it! Let me go!"
But Billy softened his grip long before he could hurt her. Max could’ve easily pulled herself free, but didn't, her anxiety shifting into relief and resignation until she just let it happen. Billy leaned forward and pulled her upper arm closer, shoving up her sleeve. And what he saw created such a pit in his already twisting and turning stomach that he wanted to throw up.
His own arm often looked like that when he was a kid. The finger marks were clearly distinguishable on her skin, and they had turned from purple to blue and green already. They were a few days old, days that he had spent in this damn room fighting everything and everyone, not playing along because he was being a fucking child, days that he wasted, days that he could have already been outside of this stupid lab to stop this from ever happening to her. These were the same finger marks that his mother had carried on her upper arm many, many times.
Billy started shaking ever so slightly when the anger boiled inside him.
"Was that my father?" he asked. His voice sounded dead, dangerously absent. The girl didn't reply.
"Was that my dad, Max?" Billy said again, his voice stronger, picking up in volume again. There was a fire in his eyes, strong enough to burn down this whole building and everything in it. She still didn't reply. However, the lack of an answer provided enough information, and Billy Hargrove could feel the anger rise and spread like a disease eating up his torn insides.
"He could tell that I was hiding something... about you and where you might be..." Max mumbled. Billy let go of her hand and could do nothing but stare at her, his lungs paralyzed, keeping him from breathing.
So much wasted time.
"Has he done that to you before?" he growled. She shook her head.
"Does your mom know?" She shook her head again. Once more, her lower lip began to tremble as she fought another wave of tears. "It was my fault anyway. I'm so terrible at lying to people—"
"No! It is never your fault, Max. Never! You need to tell your mom. Today!"
"Billy, it was one time! It won't happen again. Besides, I was being an asshole..."
"No. No no no, no. It's never just one time. Is he hitting Susan, too?"
"I don't think so but, I—I don't know if he's hitting mom..."
Billy wiped his face and stared into the corner of the room. This was not okay. Nothing about this was okay. While his disgusting excuse of a father finally lost it and let his anger out on Max, and possibly Susan, too, Billy was stuck in here and couldn't do crap about it. This was not fair! Hadn't he decided that he wouldn't allow this second chance to be for nothing at all?
The days of endless self-pity ultimately had to stop, and they had to stop now. If Billy had no reason to get out of here before, he most definitely got one hell of a reason today.
His piece of shit little step-sister was absolutely not going to be the target of Neil Hargrove's outbursts. That was a promise he had made long before she became a nuisance, long before he could ever accept that his mother was never coming back. Billy couldn't protect his mother from him, but then he got older, stronger, just a bit. Max might have been fucking annoying at times, but his dad was even worse.
But how could he get out? Owens wouldn't just let him go like that, especially with the wounds still causing trouble and needing care twice a day. Perhaps, he could turn things around by just trying. Talking never helped, right? Well...
"Have you changed your mind?" Owens asked, looking at him innocently as if he had no involvement in why the young man had a need to speak to him. Billy sat there, arms loose on his lap, and after a moment of contemplating silence, he nodded.
"Y'know, old man, I still don't get how everything's gonna be dandy fine just like that, but... Guess it's time to talk about what happened at that mall... and why."
Only two days later, with bandages wrapped around his torso underneath his loose shirt, along with a cigarette in his mouth, he rang the bell of his so-called home. Susan was flabbergasted when she saw him, but immediately relieved; However, once Dad showed up in the background to see who paid a visit and locked eyes with his son, Susan flinched with tension.
The years of torment were going to end.
Today.
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