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Dustin Henderson does his absolute best to avoid being seen as he retrieves his bike from Steve’s house, determined to leave before he notices — because the last thing he wants is to talk to him. But it’s no use. The angry words they both left unsaid finally force their way into the open.
Is this really how their friendship ends… for good?
PREVIOUS CHAPTER:
» You're Saving Me Too «
SUNDAY – May 4, 1986
~ 11:30 A.M.
Dustin Henderson
Dustin had been tossing and turning in his sleep after Hopper, El, Steve, and Billy had taken him home last night. He couldn't stop thinking about all the things he had heard and everything he'd seen in the MAC-Z from the view of the clocktower, his mind running a mile a minute trying to find sense and order in it all, anything that could be helpful for a problem he didn't want to solve in the first place. He got out of bed at least five times to look at his sketch from the area, blinding his eyes each time he turned on the little light on his bedside table. When he fell asleep with his head resting on his desk at some point, the sketch with all his notes was crumpled in his hand as it hadn't found the way into his trash bin. Dustin only managed to throw it in there in the dream that followed, one that he couldn't remember anymore when he woke up at noon to his mom knocking on the door.
Henderson looked at the crumpled piece of paper for a considerate amount of time, like he tried to memorize it before he would throw it away. In the end, it ended up in the pocket of his pants that he put on when he got ready.
He'd forgotten his bike at Steve's house last night... It had been a week since he'd visited Eddie's grave, and he was sure that some assholes had tainted the headstone yet again with blood red paint in the meantime. He had to take care of that. But to get there, he needed his damn bike.
After completely disregarding his worried mom (who had made lunch and really, really wanted Dustin to eat with her because he wasn't eating well lately), he strutted his way over to where Steve lived. It took quite a while and his feet hurt when he finally got there; But he made a point to be quiet, look around to check if either Steve or Billy were out and about the property, as the last thing he was in the mood for was another stupid argument with either of these two idiots. But the newspaper was still lying next to the mailbox, so they were either still asleep after such an eventful night, or they were just about to come out and get it...
Dustin sneaked his way to the bycicle rack, ducking a little to avoid being seen through the windows, and pulled his bike out of it with slow, careful movements. But his foot somehow got caught up in the mess of wires, and he — along with his bike — fell over with crashing noise.
"Argh, bullshit!"
Thankfully, he wasn't hurt, but the boy cursed loudly. There was no point in trying to be quiet anymore, was there? Especially now that he could see movement behind the windows, and it could be any second now that either Steve or Billy would come out. Crap...
Steve Harrington
If anything else had changed in Steve's life, it was his sleep pattern, or rather... he hardly slept anymore, tried various trauma therapies on himself, mostly failed, and got just enough sleep to keep him alive somehow. It wasn't something he worried about... he noticed it, but there were more important things. On this day, too, he was awake early, did what Billy had advised him to do and disinfected his wounds before taking care of the laundry and dishes in the house like a good housekeeper.
Just as he was about to turn on some music to distract himself, he heard a faint clattering outside. He flinched briefly, but he wasn't afraid to look out the window. He saw a curly mop of hair, and judging by the movements, it was Dustin trying to get his bike. Interesting...
Steve gritted his teeth, a pain shooting through him that he couldn't quite place, somewhere in his heart... or back? His stomach tightened, but he grabbed a trash bag that he would have had to take out anyway and slowly went outside. For a while, he watched Dustin's struggles in silence, frowning and shaking his head, until he opened the trash can, sank the bag into it, and slammed it shut again.
“I see... so you just wanted to sneak away, huh? Is this the next stage of our friendship? You avoid me, hide from me?”
He asked calmly and matter-of-factly as he picked up Dustin's bike and put it down.
“Or... how do you imagine it now? Make an announcement, Henderson...”
Dustin Henderson
Dustin flinched in fright, trapped underneath his bike, when Steve suddenly started talking out of nowhere. He hadn't realized that he'd already come out, and knowing that he'd made himself look like a complete and utter idiot was... really not helping here. The boy sighed heavily while rolling his eyes into the next five dimensions. He did not thank him for getting the bike off of him, and he did not wait for him to reach out his hand in case he wanted to help him up, either. Instead, his wounded ego pushed him to get off the floor on his own before he dusted himself off with a noise of complaint.
"Honestly, don't assume you're so important that I want to avoid you. It's not that big of a deal, I just didn't want to wake you up."
It was a terrible lie, and he knew it. And he knew that Steve knew it, too. He rubbed his aching knee before jerking forward and grabbing his bike out of Steve's hands, pushing it away several feet as though he was already leaving without another word. Eventually, however, he stopped.
Dustin pushed over the kickstand of the bike to secure it and faced Steve for the first time. He'd almost forgotten about the bruises on his face and a sting travelled through his chest, but he swallowed it down his throat. Instead, Henderson strutted towards Steve with fire in his eyes, pointing his finger at the guy.
"Actually, you know what? Yes, I'm absolutely avoiding you. And can you actually blame me for that, Steve? Can you? You've been 'busy' every time I asked you what's going on, avoiding me and everyone else yourself, not telling me for weeks that you're housing Max's asshole brother — who is in part responsible for all the shit that's gone down here — in your own home like he's one of us, and then you make a fuss for him and get El in danger! So don't go telling me that I'm avoiding you when you're no better yourself! You started this bullshit, not me, so it should be on you to tell me what this 'next stage of friendship' is gonna be for us! But really, who am I kidding... Anyone's your friend these days, even bullies, so... Friendship probably doesn't mean much to you anyway..."
Steve Harrington
Steve was still clearly exhausted from his conversation with Billy the previous evening. He was exhausted in general, and somehow he had sensed that Henderson would not make it easy for him. He had known the stubborn boy for quite some time, even if this was definitely an exceptional situation.
He leaned against the wall of the house, let his gaze rest on the young man, and waited while Dustin hurled the most malicious words he could probably muster from his clever brain at that moment. It hurt... of course it did, but Steve was too mentally exhausted to show it. His gaze remained neutral, perhaps even cold.
“Are you done?”
One eyebrow shot up and he wondered if he even wanted to get involved in this cycle again, to explain himself and justify himself once more. He finally decided on a watered-down version.
"Billy was always one of us, he's Max's brother, and you know how much she suffered because of his condition... you know how much she cried for him and how she begged us to understand that he had a good side. No one wanted to hear it... We just donated our blood and assumed he wouldn't make it anyway. He saved El... sacrificed himself for all of us in a moment when it was almost impossible, when he wasn't himself but was possessed by a powerful mind flayer. That alone speaks to the good in him, but apparently those self-sacrificing deeds can only be attributed to Eddie, right? Eddie sold drugs to little kids... no one's perfect, but apparently everyone gets a chance except Billy... and now me. Your reaction clearly shows what would have happened if I had told you about it. earlier. About the confusing rescue attempt. I've heard the accusations more than 10 times now, and yet you all came. Hopper made that decision, and he also decided to let El come along. And yes... we would all sacrifice ourselves for each other. Me for you, me for Billy... me for everyone else, end of story. I know my faults, but I'm not the only one full of faults. End of story!"
He shook his head slightly.
“Well, Dustin... this is the next level of this friendship now. I won't let you treat me like an idiot anymore. But you're my friend and you'll stay that way... that doesn't mean I have to be cool and funny... it just means we'll keep fighting, all of us together, whether you like it or not.”
Dustin Henderson
Dustin listened with spite, his chest rising deeper with every breath. And the moment Steve mentioned Eddie, Dustin's lower lip began to tremble with growing anger. It's been five weeks. Five weeks since those demobats tore Eddie apart. It was too soon. Too raw. Too much.
"Eddie didn't sell drugs to little kids! What the hell are you talking about?! Chrissy was seventeen, how does that make her a little kid? You remember the fucked up shit you were doing at seventeen, Steven? Eddie never offered me, Mike, or Lucas any of this stuff! He never even mentioned it around us, if only to tell us never to try it! And that shows me that you know NOTHING! YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT EDDIE! DON'T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT EDDIE LIKE THAT!"
He was screaming so much at this point that his voice began to crack. It wasn't about factual correctness. It wasn't about whether Eddie sold drugs to kids, or any mistakes Steve might have made, or whether Billy was one of them. It was about the pain of selfishly being left behind by one of his best friends. It was about belonging, not belonging, and grief, and sacrifices that should never have been necessary. It was about injustice. And it was about the worst kind of emotions that a young heart like Dustin's should never have to deal with, because how do you even do that?
Dustin's breath hitched when he couldn't stop his angry tears.
"I'm treating you like an idiot 'cause that's exactly what you are! You're acting like Billy could be anything like Eddie! At least he's not an asshole to people! At least he's not downright racist! At least he doesn't... didn't... beat up a classmate over a misunderstanding! Do you even remember that, or has he punched that memory out of your pea brain back then?! He could've killed you had Max not knocked him out! Do you not hear yourself? Did Max tell you about Billy what she's told us? He set a dead cat on fire! He broke her friend's arm for standing up to him! Who does that kind of thing? You're defending the kind of person who bullied me and the others all our lives, the exact kind of asshole that you used to be, too! And that makes me wonder if deep down, that's what you still are! And it's not fair!"
The truth was coming out bit by bit, a truth that the tears were flooding out with them, along with the proof that it was never about Steve helping Billy. Not really. He never wanted to insult Steve. He never wanted to piss him off or push him away. He only wanted to be in less pain and be less angry at the world for being so, so utterly unfair, and he didn't know how else to achieve that. He didn't even know how to focus on anything else but that.
"It's not fair that... that everyone hated Eddie, because he is... was... He—he was actually good, he cared about people, and he sacrificed himself for a town that thought he was a murderer, a freak! While the actual murderer — who was chosen by Vecna because of what a bastard he is — survives and gets a new chance! FROM YOU! Hawkins never deserved Eddie, and Billy doesn't deserve you! He will hurt you again and you will happily watch it happen but I can't do that! I—I can't do that, I can't watch that happen..."
Dustin wiped his eyes, but the tears kept coming.
Steve Harrington
Steve let the storm of words wash over him. Again... again all these accusations, again. And now? Now he had to stay strong again, take it all again... accept it, because Dustin was his friend and he was in a bad place. Dustin was the younger one... Dustin had lost Eddie, what could he possibly say in response?
Every word hit home, every word hurt. How he would have loved to keep defending Billy, to give even more arguments that the blond former bully had changed his ways, but he knew it would be pointless. Eddie was a saint... the others were okay too, only Steve and Billy... were the problem at that moment.
“Eddie wasn't hated by everyone. He was accepted into our circle, he became one of us.”
he said coolly, trying not to let any emotion show.
"You didn't try to understand me for a second, not even for a moment. That's not fair either, but if that's your opinion, then that's your prerogative. Max is like a sister to me... I've heard those stories too... but not just those... other stories as well, positive ones... understanding ones. Well, maybe you're right... maybe he smashed parts of my brain back then and now only the idiot is left. But you don't have to see any of this, don't worry... you won't have to see any of it. I'll make sure of that myself. I'm sorry that I didn't die instead of Eddie... really. I'm sorry that I survived Billy's beating... because if I were gone, but Eddie were still here... then maybe you would feel better."
Yes, his words were harsh, but that was how he felt at that moment, and it only strengthened his belief that he wanted to fight for those he loved with everything he had, even if it meant dying in the process. But then maybe he would find peace... and maybe then people would finally be able to truly understand him. He had no more tears this time; he swallowed them down and watched Dustin leave.
“Say hello to your mother, the cookies were excellent.”
he said as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, but he didn't move away, he was still too much in shock for that.
Dustin Henderson
Dustin listened with reluctance. All he could do was throw more accusations at him, hurt him even more, but everything just seemed to bounce right off of Steve. A dangerous drop in a chemical reaction that was about to ignite.
"Are you trying to understand me, Steve?! Are you?" he barked, but really, he knew it was dumb. He wasn't listening as well as he should, not because he didn't want to, but due to the waves of emotions blocking out what his head was telling him to do. He understood him, but he didn't want to, because caring about that idiot scared him so much, hurt him so much, and all the painful words stacked upon each other, over and over, until—
"I'm sorry that I didn't die instead of Eddie... really. I'm sorry that I survived Billy's beating... because if I were gone, but Eddie were still here... then maybe you would feel better."
"SHUT THE FUCK UP! SHUT UP!" Dustin screamed, the tears breaking another dam that flooded right out of him. He pushed him, again and again, not hard enough to make him fall, but enough to let his pain and anger loose. "STOP SAYING THESE THINGS! STOP! STOP! STOP IT! YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!"
He stopped as abruptly as he had started and turned away, the sobs still shaking his body as he retrieved his bike. He almost crashed right into Billy, who stepped out of his way in no time. Dustin could've told him off, yelled at him, too, and the boy honestly wanted to; But he couldn't even bring himself to look at the guy anymore. If he did, he'd see a very stern but wondrous expression on his face, with thoughtful blue eyes that watched him leave as fast as he could. He didn't even acknowledge Steve's words about the stupid cookies.
For a moment, it was quiet, until Billy's sigh crossed through the midday spring air. It wasn't as refreshing as it should be. Instead, with the heavy atmosphere around them, it felt thick and uncomfortable.
"Are you okay...?" Billy asked softly. He'd wanted to step in the very second Dustin started pushing him, but in the end, there was no need as he already stopped of his own accord. Now, Billy felt out of place, having shown that he witnessed what he shouldn't have.
Steve Harrington
If Dustin had the impression that it all bounced off him... then he was holding up pretty well, then it seemed to work that he was trying not to show how much it hurt him.
“I understand a lot of what you're saying... especially your anger and your grief... but neither Billy nor I... are to blame for that...”
He growled softly and didn't even fight back when Dustin pushed and shoved him. He didn't want to hurt him, he didn't want to injure him... not even physically, which is why he just made sure he didn't lose his balance.
“And you're worried that Billy might hit me? And what are you doing right now? Pushing someone who is actually your friend... and who is obviously hurt? All right, Dustin... I'll take it.”
But then the young man pulled away, his face showing all the pain that had built up, pain he still couldn't seem to let go of. This would take time... and that time would not pass quickly, Steve knew. Almost unnoticed, and in secret, he quickly placed a strong cleaning agent on Dustin's bike, where you would normally keep a water bottle. He knew where Dustin was going now... and he knew that the stuff those Hawkins idiots had used to deface Eddie's gravestone would be almost impossible to wipe off. Then he tensed briefly when Dustin and Billy crossed paths, but luckily, at least there was no escalation.
“Nothing is okay... but that's nothing new. I can't help him right now... and maybe it's good for him to have someone to hate... you and me.”
Steve straightened his clothes and watched Dustin leave. The sadness in his eyes was visible, but he refused to let himself fall apart now.
Billy Hargrove
Billy had no idea what to do here. Well... alright, that wasn't true. He did know what to do. He wanted to comfort Steve to the best of his abilities, pull him into his arms and tell him that it was going to be okay, but he'd gotten the impression that Steve needed physical space when he felt like this. After all, Billy more or less had to convince him to let him take care of him last night. He knew what it was like to feel smothered in instances such as this, especially when you were desperately trying to feel as little as possible. So he decided to stay back and not overstep any lines.
He sighed and shook his head. "He hates me, Steve. Not you. If he wants to hate me, I'm fine with that. I don't really care and I get it. But with you, it's not hate, it's... damage control."
Leaning against the wall, he sighed once more. Both of them could need a cigarette, but he didn't have any on him yet. That exhausted, emotionally drained expression on Steve's face was hard to look at. Too hard to not offer at least a little bit of his compassion.
"Hey..." Billy murmured. "He's gonna come around, just give him time. It's not even two months since Eddie died... And that kid adores the shit out of you. Why else do you think he's so upset?"
Looking into the direction where he last saw Dustin, Billy pursed his lips in thought. "That thing you put on his bike, was that the paint remover you used out here a while ago? What would he need that for?"
Steve Harrington
"Thanks, Billy... I understand what you mean, and to be honest, I think... you're right. Although I don't think it's true hatred in your case either. You can only truly hate someone if they once meant something to you. He talks about the bad things Max told him about you, but I know he also knows the good things... But right now, unfortunately, it is what it is...“
He took a deep breath. It really hurt like hell, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had already realized that some things couldn't be changed.
”It's great to be adored like this. It reminds me of how Nancy treated me back then, only with her... in the end, it wasn't adoration anymore. it was a similar feeling, this feeling... when the people you like beat you up and you have to accept it... because you love them, you love them and have to be mature enough to understand and accept it.“
He swallowed and bit his lower lip.
”Luckily... I can still manage it somehow."
He nodded slightly.
"Dustin goes to Eddie's grave almost every day. The idiots in this town, the haters, keep spraying red paint on it, defacing the gravestone. My father bought this stuff once... it's the only thing that really helps. I think he can use it, unless he's so angry that he just throws it away... But then maybe it will help him vent some of his anger."
He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket, lit one, and tossed the pack to Billy. At times like this, he wanted to smoke, and he would have preferred something stronger, just so he wouldn't have to feel anything.
Billy Hargrove
"I know, I... heard everything," he confessed quietly. "Sorry. The kitchen window was open and... I heard you defending me and I honestly wanted to slap you for that shit." He added those last words with a weak smile at him, hopeful that it was enough to show that he wasn't actually serious. It was probably not the best way to admit he had been eavesdropping, but he had a feeling that Steve wouldn't be too upset about it. And if he was, he was willing to live with it. Billy preferred to be as honest as he could be, even if it made his stomach twist and turn sometimes.
"I appreciate it, and I know there's no stopping you no matter what I say, and that's fine. I got it. Whatever. But you don't gotta defend me to a kid who needs someone to hate, man. I'll survive if you don't. But Henderson? He's just gonna isolate himself the more you do, because you two are never gonna find common ground with that bullshit, and that's because his act is not even about me, not really. I'm just his scapegoat. That's fine. I don't care. But if you keep defending me to him, he'll just hate himself for feeling that way about me because it pushes you away. And then he'll act like the asshole he thinks it makes him. And I know because that's what I did."
He frowned and shook his head softly. A part of him was sick of hearing Nancy's name all the time, but that annoyance wasn't directed at Steve as much as it was directed at the woman in question. Billy hated that the Wheeler girl had treated Steve so horribly, even if he never knew the details of what went down. He'd always assumed that Nancy cheated on him with Jonathan or whatever, but he didn't know the true story.
"Understand it? Maybe... Accept it? No. Love or not, you don't have to accept bullshit behavior. Not from Wheeler, and not from Henderson..."
Billy listened with intrigue when he talked about Eddie's grave, briefly lost in deep contemplation when the flying pack of cigarettes startled him out of his trance. He caught it and picked one out before he could think about it, like muscle memory. He put the filter between his lips and promptly coughed when he inhaled the first plume of smoke after lighting it. It burned in his throat and tasted awful, but damn, he'd really missed the nicotine.
He looked back at Steve eventually, then slowly stepped towards him. He wanted to be there for him, but didn't know how far he should go. His gaze was stern, but sincere and thoughtful with a hint of softness in its shadow.
"Tell me what you need. It's okay."
Steve Harrington
"There are enough people... or beings he can hate. He can hate every single demo bat Eddie shredded... as far as I'm concerned, he can hate Kay, he can hate the Army. If he thinks he has to hate you... or thinks he hates you, then there's nothing I can do about it, Billy. Henderson isn't just a kid... his mind works differently. He was never normal, and he never will be... There is no standard solution for him, but what I've learned is... that you have to try to stay logical, because logic is the only thing he always comes back to, even if it takes a while... even if he can't see that path, his path, right now. He's not like... us, Billy, not like you and me. I don't know exactly what will bring him back, but we'll soon be drawn into other things... things where he has to be logical, where he has to act, with me... and with you too.“
He pushed a small stone away with his shoe, then scraped the ground and looked at it without looking up.
”Understanding... tolerance..."
He muttered to himself as he took far too energetic drags on his cigarette and coughed repeatedly as he exhaled the smoke. Suddenly, Billy was standing right in front of him and, as usual, he flinched briefly.
"What do I need? Lots of things... and also, in a way, nothing. Something proper to smoke would be cool... something to numb the pain. But that won't help either, will it? That would be the beginning of the end, it won't make anything better.“
He tried to smile weakly and finally sighed deeply.
”Let's do something productive... walk through the city and tear down the remaining Anti-Hellfire posters. It won't help save the world... but in the long run, it will help Dustin..."
Billy Hargrove
Billy listened, his gaze stern and focused.
"That's fine, Steve. Honestly, he can hate me. You don't have to do anything about it, either. And I don't know about you, but... I think it's pretty logical that he hates me."
He wasn't upset about it. Not at all. He'd used to be, last night, when Dustin was being relentlessy pissy with Steve about the whole Dr. Kay and MAC-Z thing. Now, he understood where it all came from. Nevertheless, Billy took Steve's words to heart and decided then and there that he should do something about it.
"I don't have anything better to smoke for you, but... I've got something else. Can I borrow your car? I'll be back in time before we meet the others at the Squawk later."
Steve had already arranged a meeting at the radio tower when they'd woken up on the couch. El, Hop, and Will were definitely coming so far. They weren't sure about the Wheelers, Robin, or any of the others yet, though.
"I'll tear down any posters I see on the way and back and I'll get you some takeout, too. You need something proper to eat. Sounds good?"
Steve Harrington
“Let's put it this way... I hated you too once, or at least... I wanted to hate you.”
He replied calmly, his gaze still fixed on the ground. It hurt so incredibly much, so incredibly, and yet he didn't take himself seriously, didn't want to show how much he was suffering, because friendships, arguments... love felt so strangely reprehensible in times like these.
The only thing that somehow anchored him to the here and now was Billy and the prospect of meeting with the others to make real plans to deal with what was most important. When Billy asked him where he was going, his first impulse was to offer to come along, the typical mother hen impulse, but Steve managed to resist it this time.
“You can have the car.”
Which, incidentally, was an extremely big sign of trust, because that damn BMW was sacred to him.
“The car is a bit stubborn sometimes, but you had a fast car yourself... you'll be able to handle it.”
He added and slowly walked into the house to get the keys. His demeanor was still not particularly confident, and he definitely didn't seem like the Steve who had everything and himself under control, but he didn't have to be right now. With an attempted smile on his lips, he finally handed Billy the keys.
“Take care of my Francis... she needs a lot of love. I... well, I'm going to take a shower, tidy up, and... then you can just pick me up when you're done.”
He bit his lip hard to stop himself from saying more, but failed.
“Take care of yourself... please.”
Billy Hargrove
A small but sincere smile crossed his lips, one that he tried to conceal by taking another drag off his cigarette. "Maybe there's still hope for me, then," he murmured, a quiet softness in his tone. His smile vanished into wide-eyed surprise when Steve told him he could have the car without so much as a hint of protest. He would have been fully prepared for a serious lecture: No eating inside the car. Keep the dirt outside. Don't rev the engine too much. Don't mess with the damn settings. And most importantly: Don't drive like you fucking stole it. Instead, there was nothing but complete trust.
Billy questioned it, first. Perhaps, Steve was just too tired to give him a lecture. Perhaps, his sadness made him stay distant to things he loved sometimes. But the way he talked so fondly of his "Francis" and asked Billy to take care of himself made it all the more clear that actual, real trust was the motive here. The feeling it gave him had a potential to make him addicted to it.
Billy accepted the keys with a nod and another little smile. "I will," he said. "I promise." Then, he rested a hand on Steve’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze; a silent attempt at comfort and acknowledgement. He wanted to be there for him, to lift the weight from his chest somehow, but he didn’t quite know how to do that without letting his usual cheeky, insolent streak come out and get on Steve's nerves instead.
His blue eyes glanced at the tiny bruise Steve had created by biting his lip way too hard. He almost — almost — brushed his thumb over it, but stopped himself in time.
"I'll get the radio you gave me. If you need anything, you let me know, alright?"
Billy let go of his shoulder with a weak, playful shove, and disappeared into the basement. A minute later, he returned with the radio tucked under his arm and tossed a bottle of pills toward him.
"The Ibuprofen I promised. Take one with a little bite of food and drink lots of water. No buts."
And with that, he aimed for the BMW, remembering to keep the dirt outside, not mess with the settings, and to not drive it like it was a get-away-vehicle.
Steve Harrington
The car was his sanctuary, yes... it was a status symbol that had brought him a lot of attention back then. But basically, it was simply a reminder of supposedly better times. Well... not just supposedly, those times had been better, and the problems he had had were the same ones many teenagers had had. Now he had phases where he felt so incredibly alone, even though he had friends, close friends... best friends, and even though Billy had moved in with him, who aroused strange feelings in him that went beyond friendship.
But deep down, Steve was a family man who never had a family but longed for all that stuff that was otherwise so annoying. Joint celebrations, birthdays, Christmas, name days... Thanksgiving... it made him sad that none of that mattered anymore. That even the kids could hardly enjoy it anymore, even though their parents tried to make the quarantine as bearable as possible for them. He wondered how Dustin's mother was dealing with everything that was happening. She must have noticed how her son was suffering... She was probably trying everything she could to help him, and Steve knew how persistent Mrs. Henderson could be when Dusty was feeling down. If only she could reach him...
"Channel 67 is a free channel... the others don't have access to it, and I don't want them... I don't want them to worry again or find it strange when we communicate. I don't know... I'm just looking for ways to bring some peace back into the whole thing. And... I'm pretty bad at bringing peace to anything."
It was immediately obvious that Billy's decision to take the radio with him calmed him down. The relief even made him breathe a sigh of relief and nod several times. The contact felt good, and he sensed that Billy was trying to give him confidence somehow, and it worked.
“Ibuprofen... all right.”
He confirmed as Billy returned from the house, got into his car, and finally drove away. He did as he was told, took the medicine, showered, put on something comfortable, and tried to regain control of himself. He couldn't let anything show at this meeting; he had to become Steve again, the Steve everyone knew. The clumsy babysitter, and that's exactly what he practiced in front of the mirror. While Billy was out, he tidied up and wrote down a few things that were on his mind. He called the hospital to ask about Max, to find out if anything had changed, or at least if everything had stayed the same.
Only then did he manage to shake himself out of his lethargy, finally sitting down in front of the house and watching the deserted street.
NEXT CHAPTER:
» I Chose You «
Billy doesn't take Steve's car just to pick up takeout. He has something else in mind: Confronting Dustin where they can be alone, hoping to fix what's been broken because of him. But the moment the truth begins to surface, it becomes clear why Dustin hates Billy so much, and in the end, the real source of it all lies buried in Eddie's empty grave...
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