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Since his full recovery from his near-death experience at Starcourt, Billy spends the bulk of his days at the trailer park trying to fix up his Camaro.
Full recovery may be a loose term. He’s walking, and breathing on his own. His panic attacks have gotten better with the new prescription the docs have got him on, but his hands still shake a little when he’s focusing on tinier tasks, and he gets out of breath a lot quicker than he’s used to for a guy who spent his whole life prior always on the go. But it’s manageable. He’s managing.
The Camaro gives him something to focus on. He had contemplated for a while if he even wanted the thing back, too many memories of all the horrid things that took place in that car that led up to his eventual death. Because he did die, at least briefly. But it’s been therapeutic, in a way. Being able to fix something everyone told him was beyond repair, reclaiming a piece of himself that had been taken from him and tainted.
He’s been doing a lot of that lately, facing the uncomfortable truths of his life. Turns out that old saying about the only way out is through is more correct than Billy ever wanted to learn. He had been content blocking out everything that upset him, burying it with booze and adrenaline spikes and anything that was sure to send him to an early grave.
Funny thing, that. Billy had gotten his wish. He just hadn’t banked on wishing to take it all back in what he thought were his final moments.
He’s been granted a second chance at life, and he plans on doing things right this time around. He’s actually getting along with Max now. Neil fucking off may have landed them and Susan squashed in a trailer less than half the size of their old house, but he can’t say their lives have been worse off because of it. Without Neil’s stifling energy hanging over them, they can actually breathe now, and it’s made living together a hell of a lot more pleasant. Has made Billy more pleasant in general, even managing to pick up some friendships along the way in the forms of Steve and Robin and Jonathan. He hadn’t seen that coming. There was even Jane, who Billy looked at as more of another little sister.
The most unexpected development, however, had to be the kinship he struck up with baby Byers.
Billy used to give Steve so much shit about how one of his closest friends was some random rugrat, and now here he goes having two of them. He still maintains it’s different. Jane was pretty much singlehandedly responsible for bringing him back from the abyss, he owes that girl everything. And Will… well. Will’s the only other person on this entire planet who gets what Billy went through.
It’s not like it was some fast friendship, either. The two probably would’ve gone the rest of their lives never speaking had it not been for Jane bringing Will down to the hospital with her. She’d apparently been going back to him after her visits and relaying that Billy needed someone to talk to, someone who understood. She’s an intuitive kid, that one. Billy hadn’t exactly been a fan of the idea of bonding with a 14 year old - again - but it turns out Jane was right (Billy would come to find out she usually was. For a kid who didn’t say much, she had a lot of wisdom to give.)
So Billy and Will got to talking. Found out they eerily had too many things in common and couldn’t help but wonder if that played a role in Billy’s capture. And while they may never get answers to that particular question, it did open the door to understanding one another. Billy had been sure Will had been privy to the less than flattering sides of his personality before all this went down, must’ve heard from his friends what a shithead Billy was. And he had. But Will had also figured the past was the past, and without any firsthand experience with Billy himself he couldn’t really judge. And besides, the Billy he was meeting now seemed like a far cry from the Billy of before.
Billy had a clean slate with Will in ways he didn’t have with anyone else. He had needed that more than he realized.
Their conversations started drifting from other dimensions and monsters to things more simple like music and movies and literature. Baby Byers was still at that age where he was figuring all his interests out, most of them coming from his older brother. And while Billy was surprised to learn Jonathan Byers’ tastes weren’t half bad, he still felt the need to steer the youngest Byers into cooler directions. So he had lent him some of his books, had invited him over to listen to some records once Billy was discharged from the hospital, gave him a list of movies to rent from Steve at the video store (and gave him permission to tell Steve to fuck off if he started going on about Will being too young to rent certain movies. Billy didn’t think Will ever took up that specific advice, but it was funny hearing Steve bitch to him about Will’s newfound defiance of authority, so something must’ve rubbed off on the kid.)
They’d always have a meet up after to discuss Will’s latest read or watch. Billy figures that’s what’s happening now as he looks up from his toolbox and sees his younger friend approaching the trailer on his bike.
Will comes to halt a few feet away, letting his bike fall to the dirt while he shakes that stupid bowl cut out of his eyes. That’s the next thing Billy’s gotta work on; getting that kid a new look.
“What’s up, Zombie Boy?” Billy greets, washing the grease off his hands with a rag before reaching into the cooler he keeps beside him when he works for a beer. Will had talked to Billy about that nickname during one of their earlier meetings, had explained to him what happened with Will having gone missing and announced dead to the town, only to show up later to everyone’s shock and horror. It had been a sore spot for Will until Billy told him zombies were sick as hell and he should wear it as a badge of honor. You can’t kill what’s already dead, and besides, technically Billy was a zombie boy now, too, and Billy’s incapable of being anything but cool, so.
“Nothing much, Zombie Boy.” Will smiles big in that way kids do when they’re talking to someone they look up to. And that was a trip, the day Billy realized he had become someone someone else looked up to. He wasn’t sure if he had that with Max and Jane, maybe on some level they did admire him, but Will was different. Maybe because they were both boys, maybe because they shared the same name, maybe because they both knew what it felt like to have their bodies ripped away from them and used for someone else’s influence. But Billy felt like he owed something to this kid to be someone worth looking up to.
“I, uh, watched that movie you told me to rent,” Will says as he takes a seat on the trailer’s steps. “Mean Streets?”
“Yeah? What’dya think about it?” Billy grabs another beer out of the cooler, pointing it at Will to see if he wants one. And, okay, maybe he’s not the best role model around. He was younger than Will the first time he tried beer. Wasn’t the end of the world.
The kid shakes his head no anyway.
Billy shrugs, tosses the can back into the cooler for later.
Will’s nose scrunches up like he’s afraid to tell Billy what he’s about to. Billy just waits him out and takes a long sip of his beer. “I don’t know if those kind of movies are really my type.”
Billy chuckles at that. “What? Gangster movies?”
Will nods his head.
“Alright, fair enough. Any other notes on it?”
Will goes quiet at this. Billy watches on silently as the younger kid bows his head down, shoes scuffling in the dirt at the bottom of the steps, his thumbs twiddling while his arms rest on his knees. Normally baby Byers is all too eager to give him a rundown of his opinions when they do their little review sessions. Billy hasn’t seen him get all shy before, not since their first few meetings, anyway.
It’s weird. Billy doesn’t know what to do with it. Feels like he crossed some invisible line he didn’t know was there.
When Will does finally work up the nerve to speak, he barely makes any eye contact with him. Looks to Billy for about a second, if that, before focusing somewhere off in the dirt. “Did you catch a vibe from the two main guys in the movie?”
“A vibe?” Billy questions, confused as to where Will’s going with this.
“Yeah, like. They were really close, or something.”
“Well, they were best friends…” Billy answers slowly, but he thinks he’s starting to suspect what Will’s getting at.
“Okay, yeah, but,” Will sighs like he’s getting frustrated, but not at Billy. “They shared a bed in their underwear! Do you do that with your best friend?”
Billy doesn’t want to answer that he doesn’t actually have a best friend. Had some back in California, sure, but now that he thinks about it, in the grand scheme of what he’s been through these past few years, he doesn’t know if he could even call those friendships that particularly close. He has friends, obviously, baby Byers being here is proof of that. But then he’d have to admit his best friends are either random fourteen year olds or his sister and… he’s trying to keep some of his dignity intact. Which is also why he won’t admit to sharing a bed in his underwear with other boys, and how he definitely wouldn’t label them friends, best or otherwise.
“Depends on how much we had to drink the night before,” Billy mumbles into his beer instead.
It’s meant to be a joke, kind of. But the way Will goes silent after has Billy guessing it didn’t land. And then Will gets this look on his face like he’s contemplating something, like he’s got these thoughts and ideas tossing around in his head, but he doesn’t know if he should voice them out loud, or maybe he just doesn’t know how to.
“Whatever’s rattling ‘round that head of yours, Zombie Boy, spit it out,” Billy tells him, though not unkindly. He just hates things hanging over him.
Will doesn’t speak right away, but Billy’s patient. He’s come to learn Will’s the more quiet of his friend group, speaks with intention so he takes the time to figure out what words he wants to say. And it’s a little annoying sometimes, but Billy’s been learning to appreciate a slower pace of life in general. He just makes sure Will knows whatever he wants to say to Billy, he can say it.
“When you were, um-” Will looks around, making sure no one else is outside, at least not close enough to hear whatever he’s about to say next. He pitches his voice lower, though, just in case. “When the Mindflayer had you… did it ever, like… speak to you? About you?”
And, fuck, Billy wasn’t expecting to have that conversation today. They had talked about this, vaguely. It had been comparing notes, mainly Will asking questions to see if their experiences had been the same, wanted to study how they differed. So they had shared about the voices, the visions, but Billy was never willing to be forthcoming with any details, and Will never seemed all that eager to press him on it either since that would mean exposing his own secrets. It was a silent agreement to not talk about it. Until now, apparently.
Billy downs the rest of his beer, needing the liquid courage if he’s gonna actually have this conversation. “Yeah. It did.”
Will stares at him, nodding his head once in acknowledgement.
Billy feels like he’s under a microscope right now, like even the slightest twitch will be examined and studied and picked apart for clues. And it’s not like he doesn’t trust Will, which is a strange feeling in itself, trusting a fucking kid with his most tightly held secrets. But Billy’s still learning to open up, learning how to be vulnerable with other people. And if Will’s asking questions then that means he’s looking for answers. Billy doesn’t know if he owes Will anything, by whatever laws of the universe or basic decency, but he figures he’s probably the only person around who can help the kid in this particular area, so. He’s gotta suck up whatever trepidations he has.
“Did it ever… tease you?” Will asks after a long silence. “Like, did it find things out about you that you didn’t want anyone else to know? And used it against you?”
Immediately Billy has flashbacks to being trapped in his own mind. To when he was forced to hear some distorted version of his father’s voice casting the usual insults at him; pussy, whore, faggot. To visions of Steve Harrington at basketball practice, in the showers, Billy watching himself watch on with a barely concealed lust until the scene was warped into visions that never happened - Steve catching him and flying into a rage, beating the shit out of him worse than what Billy had done to him that night at the Byers’.
It had been just another way to chip at Billy’s resolve, make him feel defeated and like there was no reason to keep fighting on, because who was he going back to? Who was he fighting to stay alive for? Nobody would want him if they knew the truth about him. It had almost worked, too. Wasn’t until Jane reached out to him and reminded him that there was still goodness in the world, some of it even meant for Billy, if she had been willing enough to at least try for him, that he scrounged up his last bit of strength and fought through. He owed that girl his fucking life. Literally.
“Yeah. There was a lot of that,” Billy answers. He leans against his car, folding his arms tight across his chest to keep himself from fidgeting, or from running from this entire conversation, he doesn’t know. Shit’s fucking uncomfortable. “It do it to you, too?”
Will nods solemnly. There’s a fear in his eyes Billy recognizes, but he doesn’t want to jump to any conclusions. After all, Will’s pretty much looked afraid the entire time Billy’s known him. But maybe that’s part of it…
“Have you told anyone about them?” Will asks. “The secrets?”
Billy’s breath catches a little. While he can’t know for certain if he and Will are talking about the same thing, he doesn’t feel wrong in his assumption. Something in Billy recognizes something in the younger boy, has since their first meeting. Billy had just chalked it up to the possession, figured some kind of mind-meld must’ve happened, both being trapped inside that thing’s hellscape. But maybe Billy was just seeing himself this whole time, a version of what-could’ve-been, who he used to be before his mom left.
He runs a hand over his face as he accepts that this conversation is in fact going to happen. He walks over to where Will’s sat on the steps and taps his knee with his knuckles, telling him “Scoot over, kid.”
Will does so instantly, and Billy takes a seat beside him. There’s not much space for them, especially with the bulk of Billy’s body taking up most of it. Their knees are pressed against each other, but it’s fine. Billy’s got more things to feel uncomfortable about right now. He wants to reach for a cigarette, but he’s been trying to quit. Figures he already died once, he’s not trying to invite cancer on his doorstep so soon after.
“A few people know,” Billy admits. “And I mean a few.” He makes sure to emphasize this so Will understands. “If there’s one thing to know in this life it’s who to trust and who to not. People use that shit against you.” And he means that about anything. Billy learned at an early age not to go around telling his secrets. It always did more harm than good, whether they were weaponized against him or simply went ignored. Whatever help or guidance or acceptance he had been looking for never came, so he taught himself to keep that shit buried down deep until he couldn’t feel it anymore. And he knows that fucked him up, he’s not stupid. He’s not blind to the person he became, the person he’s still grappling with not to be. But that person also kept him safe and alive. Until he didn’t.
“How do you know who’s safe to trust?”
Billy thinks about Joyce and all the stories he’s heard of the superhero lengths she’s gone to for her children. Hell, he’d even gotten a dose of her motherly warmth firsthand when she had visited him in the hospital with Jane and Will, and it had brought him to tears.
He thinks about Jonathan and the story Steve told him about how he got his ass beat once by him for talking shit about Will (and, honestly, even Billy had been surprised by that one. He knew Steve had been some king of Hawkins before he arrived, but he never expected he was a huge dick, too.)
Will’s got good roots to fall back on. Billy knows Will won’t have to worry about his family’s acceptance like had had to worry about his own.
“I think you already know. You’re a good judge of character.” Billy nudges Will’s shoulder and raises an eyebrow in a self-depricating gesture. It’s been a running joke that Billy Hargrove was about the last person anyone expected to befriend Will, given his reputation, and he knows the shit Will got from certain members of his party for hanging out with him. Not that they were wrong, necessarily, but Billy’s been making a concerted effort to not prove them right, either. For Will’s sake. And because Joyce Byers is a woman he doesn’t want to piss off. Or disappoint.
Will bows his head, hiding a smile and a blush and… Oh.
Billy should’ve maybe figured that out sooner. Makes a hell of a lot more sense why Will was so eager to hang out with him all the time. Sure, the kid was a total nerd and actually liked their little meetings of the minds, but now that Billy’s looking back with this new perspective, he can recognize the schoolboy crush for what it is. He had a friend back in California who had an older brother Billy was enamored with… he just never thought he’d be on the other end of that scenario.
The trailer door swings open then, Steve stepping out and happily announcing “Max and I got lunch all ready, babe.” He freezes when he spots Will, not realizing Billy had company. “Oh, hey… Will… didn’t see you there…”
Everyone’s at a standstill. Steve’s floundering, surely trying to figure out how to back out his misstep. Will’s eyes are darting back and forth between the two older boys with such rapid succession Billy thinks he’s about to have a seizure. And Billy… he just has to put his head in his hand and try not to laugh.
“Did you just call him babe?” Will finally asks. And Billy can’t wait to hear this one.
“I- no! Yes,” Steve stutters, looking for Billy for help, but Billy’s way more amused with whatever the hell this is. “Babe as in… Ruth! The baseball player…”
“Steve, stop,” Billy deadpans. Resigned to the fact this is his fucking boyfriend who he loves so so much. God help him.
“Okay.” Steve seels his lips, finally. Hangs his head down in resignation.
Will still looks like his entire world has just burst open to broader horizons, and unlike last time this happened, he’s met with far more pleasant visuals than monsters and nightmare dimensions. “Are- are you two…”
Billy turns his head to look at Steve with a soft smile. Steve looks like he’s about to shit his pants, but Billy just reaches his hand out to him.
“Are you sure?” Steve whispers.
It’s a valid question, considering Billy’s been the one who’s been so firm about them keeping this a secret, knowing all too well the dangers of their relationship getting out. Neil may be out of the picture, but Billy hasn’t yet fully rid himself of the lasting scars he inflicted. But maybe this is a start.
“Do you trust me?” Billy asks.
Steve looks at Will. Then to Billy. Nods his head before reaching his hand out for Billy to take, stepping closer until he’s at Billy’s back.
Billy laces their fingers together and lets their hands rest on his shoulder. He looks at Will and doesn’t say a word. Just lets him take in the scene and draw his own conclusions.
It might be a lot, Billy gets that. Will stays silent and just observes, taking this new information in and processing what it means for him. Billy grew up in California, in a city far more liberal than Hawkins, Indiana, and even he had learned the world wasn’t kind to boys like him. He can’t imagine what Will had to grow up with, in a town that won’t even acknowledge boys like them exist.
But their fathers are cut from the same cloth, he knows that much. And even though Will had a mother looking out for his safety and got him away from his dad’s clutches, unlike Billy, he knows it only takes one comment to do any lasting damage. Which is why it’s important for Billy to show Will this. That there’s other boys out there like him, that there’s hope for him, despite what anyone tells him. He’s not destined for a life of misery, of loneliness. Hell, if a guy like Billy can get a guy like Steve to love him, Will should have no troubles at all.
He sees that thought register on Will’s face, and dammit Billy could almost cry. He’s a fucking sap, he knows this. Tries to fight it most of the time, though, like he’s doing now. He squeezes Steve’s hand instead and gets himself to his feet. “There enough food for four?” Billy asks. Steve nods, smiling at Billy in that way he does when he uncovers a new layer of Billy’s soft underbelly. In a way that makes Billy feel vulnerable, but not scared. Makes him feel understood, seen.
Billy turns to Will then, nodding his head towards the trailer. “Wanna do lunch, Zombie Boy?”
Will stands up, dusting his pants off and smiling bright, traces of what Billy hopes are happy tears in his eyes. “Sure thing, Zombie Boy.”
Billy swings his free arm around Will’s shoulders and guides him inside. He’s sure they’ll have more things to talk about, questions Will will have and things for Billy to teach him. He feels even more protective of the kid now than he already was. Because he can provide something for Will Billy wished he had himself growing up. And just maybe this will help him, too.