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He wakes up choking.
Gasping for air, his cheeks wet from tears, thrashing under the covers as he sits up in a panic—
It was—
It was there a second ago.
A monster of gore and flesh, the sharp scent of blood and death, pain pain painpainpain—
A hand on his shoulder, suddenly, has Billy flinching so hard he falls off the bed and onto the floor.
“Baby?” A worried, sleepy voice asks from the bed before a lamp is turned on with a click, flooding the room with a warm light.
Billy glances around in a panic as he grips onto the side of the bed, his chest still heaving with harsh pants of air. He doesn’t recognize the room, everything looks different, almost like another world.
The most shocking thing, though, is Steve Harrington climbing over to the edge of the bed and looking down at him with worry.
His hair is long — enough to brush his shoulders, and it’s messy from sleep, his big brown eyes as doe-like as ever. He has a little silver hoop through his left nostril, and some tattoos along his left arm, and—
“Billy, seriously,” Steve frowns down at him, “Are you okay? Was it another nightmare?”
A nightmare?
Was it?
“C’mon,” Steve murmurs, reaching down and wrapping his hand around Billy’s wrist gently, giving it a little tug like a wordless ‘get back up here’.
And Billy’s confused, yeah, but he’s still scared to death so he goes willingly, climbing back up onto the bed and crawling under the covers when Steve lifts them, tucking the blanket around him as he pulls Billy into his side, his arms wrapping around him so casually, like he’s done it before a thousand times.
Steve’s holding him. Steve.
This…this isn’t real.
This isn’t the Steve he knows.
Glancing around the room again, Billy feels himself trembling just a little in Steve’s arms as he does, but he’s warm and he smells good — comforting, somehow. Familiar.
Billy looks down at himself, at his bare chest that was ripped open a moment ago, but…it’s smooth, scarless. He has a few tattoos, too, and…and...
Steve, in cursive red ink, on the inside of his wrist.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Steve whispers into his hair, startling him.
A flash of the monster’s face when Billy blinks makes him shake his head ‘no’, leaning into Steve’s warmth, seeking it out. He feels like every bit of strength he had has been sapped from his body, unable to do anything but take the coddling from Steve. Another kiss to his head and a little squeeze of his arms, a thumb rubbing his shoulder.
“You’re shaking like a leaf,” Steve whispers, reaching down to pull the blanket up a little higher over Billy before leaning them back against the headboard of their bed.
Before the monster and pain, what could he remember? It was like a dream that he couldn’t recall the longer he stayed awake, slipping through his memory like sand between fingers, making him wonder for a moment if maybe it never happened.
But then, the sound of knocking from the floor below makes him remember waking up to go to work with Max banging on his bedroom door, telling him that he was going to be late.
Yeah. And when he went to work that day, it was hot out, and Karen Wheeler was there as always, looking so desperate that Billy entertained the idea of meeting up with her and…and…
The mill.
He shivers as he remembers the cold feeling of that basement, where he had lost himself, relieved now to be somewhere else far, far away from it all, as confusing as it is.
“D’you want me to call your mom?” Steve asks gently.
Billy’s breath catches in his throat.
Steve’s hand finds a home in Billy’s hair to play with it as he keeps talking, “She’s helped you longer than I have with your night terrors, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind…”
His mom?
He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Instead, he turns his head slowly, looking at Steve with parted lips and tears in his eyes.
He feels hope burn in his chest.
Steve gives him a small smile before he reaches over for something on the side table, something that looks like a piece of glass that lights up with a picture of Billy on it, and he furrows his brows as he watches the other tap and slide the pad of his thumb on it — until Steve is handing it to him.
“Here,” he murmurs, and Billy can hear it ringing like a phone, so he takes it as gently as he can before holding it up to his ear.
Is this real?
His heart races in his chest as he listens to the ringing, closing his eyes as visions of his mom on the beach flash across his mind. His last happy memory of her had saved him from being a complete monster, in many ways.
The ringing stops and the line crackles for a moment before a woman’s sleepy voice answers, “Hello?”
Billy feels his eyes well with fresh tears, his bottom lip trembling as he squeezes the phone in his hand.
It’s her.
He parts his dry lips and whimpers a trembling, “M-Mom?”
“Billy? Oh, hi, sweetie,” her voice softens, like it used to before she left, “Everything okay?”
A lump forms in his throat painfully and he shakes his head ‘no’ before whispering it into the receiver.
“Another night terror?” She asks, sympathy and concern so clear in her voice, flooding Billy’s mind with memories he had once forgotten.
“Y…yeah,” he whispers, feeling Steve twirl a blond curl around his finger, a tear falling down his cheek.
“Let’s talk about it, that always helps, remember?” She hums, the sound of her shifting in bed as she wakes up a little more, “Tell me all of it — the good, the bad, the worst.”
Was it a dream? Was his entire life a dream up until now? Was this his reality?
“I, um,” he clears his throat, swallowing around the lump in it and the heaviness in his chest, “I was…alone, surrounded by people that knew me but didn’t love me, and I…I felt so angry,” he frowned, feeling another tear slide down his cheekbone, “And…and then there was this—this monster, made of dead bodies of people I knew, and it was like it was controlling me, and I was helpless — I couldn’t stop it, even though I tried, and when I fought back it…it killed me, and…” he wipes at his wet face, stopping himself from sobbing as he whispers, “And I felt so much pain, but there was also a relief, like I didn’t have to suffer anymore and it felt good and that scared me even more, because I didn’t want to die, I don’t wanna die—”
“Honey, honey—breathe, okay?” She interrupts him, gentle but stern, “It’s okay, it was just a nightmare, right? You’re safe, you’re at home with Steve, he’s got you, yeah?”
He can feel how hard Steve is squeezing him now, his forehead pressed to Billy’s shoulder as he whispers, “I got you, baby,” in a soft, watery voice — like he’s near tears, too.
“Y-Yeah,” Billy whispers into the phone, sucking in a lungful of air, trying to calm himself down.
“That was a terrible dream, honey,” she says, and Billy can envision a frown on her face as she says it, like the kind she used to have when Neil would ruin their day.
“It was,” he agrees in a murmur, feeling Steve lift his head up and his hand come up to Billy’s face, wiping a tear away with his thumb.
It’s so sweet, so tender, another tear replaces it quickly.
“How about I go and visit tomorrow, hm? Maybe have lunch together?” She offers, her voice so soft like it used to be.
God, he wants that more than anything in the world.
“Yeah,” he nods, a weak smile pulling at his lips.
“Alright, I’ll go over around 11, okay?”
A flash of a girl in his mind — a hand on his cheek, pulling him back to his memory. Eleven. She had helped him, too, hadn’t she?
“Y-Yeah,” he nods, sniffling and wiping his nose on the back of his hand.
“Okay, try to go back to sleep when you feel like it, alright? I love you.”
A new wave of tears fills his eyes as he whispers shakily, “I love you, too, mom.”
“Goodnight, honey,” she hums happily.
He whispers it back and then she’s gone, an ache in his chest as Steve pulls the device away and sets it aside again. Billy wipes at his flushed face before looking at Steve again, who looks back at him with a soft, knowing smile.
“I’ll stay up with you, until you fall asleep,” Steve promises, so sweetly that it makes Billy’s heart flutter.
Is this real? Does he really get this much love here? People care about him?
He’s scared to go to sleep. He doesn’t want to leave.
“C’mon, lay down,” Steve urges him, smiling a little coyly as he says in a silly little voice, “I wanna cuddle.”
Cuddling is something Billy never does, especially with Steve Harrington, but as he’s turned onto his side and Steve settles behind him, spooning him, Billy feels so much tension leave his body.
He can’t help but wonder if the Steve he knew would be like this — sweet, loving, caring. Could he look at Billy with that same fondness? Would he be Billy’s safety? How did they even get together here?
A dozen little kisses are pressed to his shoulder as time passes, and Billy looks out of the window as he feels himself start to get tired, his eyelids getting heavier with every blink.
Then Steve throws a leg over his hip, the limb heavy and grounding, and Billy’s eyes slip shut for a moment as he relaxes into the comfort and safety before he startles himself awake, eyes snapping open—
Just seconds before there’s a banging on the door.
“You’re gonna be late!” Max shouts before stomping down the hall.
Billy jolts upright, his eyes wide and frantic as he looks around the room — his room, back in Hawkins.
He looks behind him, but there’s no Steve.
Was it all a dream? A dream within a dream?
He’s back, before his death, before the monster, before he was out of control.
“What the fuck,” he whispers sharply to himself, burying his face in his hands as he feels his eyes go wet again, frustration and anger and loneliness swelling his chest as he knows he’s back to being alone, unloved — before he pauses in realization.
If he goes to work, and it’s the same as before, then he’ll know for sure.
And maybe instead of the motel outside of town, he could go to Loch Nora — to Steve.
Lowering his hands to his lap, Billy looks down at the inside of his wrist and rubs at the skin there, remembering the red ink.
He remembers the softness in those dark eyes, so unlike he’s used to, but…
Maybe things could be different this time.