Apparently unsatisfied with the level of angst provided by Rotten, I wrote a follow-up piece. Once again, it’s very angsty and contains triggers, so please read the tags carefully and proceed with caution.
Marks
Hopper takes a step back. Because that’s not - things aren’t going the way he was expecting them to. If he even had expectations, Christ - but this…
He doesn’t know what to do with this.
When he’d walked in and found the kid asleep on his couch, drawing his weapon had been an automatic reaction. Nobody is supposed to know about this place. This is where he hides Eleven, his supernatural, persecuted daughter - this is supposed to be the place he can keep her safe.
But there was someone there, and immediately every internal warning siren that Hopper possessed was blaring in his head, and so his hand went to his belt and drew out the handgun without him thinking twice about it.
It was the way the kid was breathing. Too even, too quiet - and Hopper knew he was faking it. He pushed the gun up against the kid’s back - he hadn’t knownit was a kid then, although he can be honest enough with himself to say that it wouldn’t have changed anything if he hadknown - and demanded answers.
Keptdemanding answers. Because Hargrove wasn’t talking. Didn’t say a goddamn word.
Hopper’s no fool. He could see the kid’s brain whirring, thoughts dancing behind his eyes as he faced Hopper the best he could from his somewhat pathetic position on the floor. It’s just - Hopper thought he was trying to figure out how to lie.
THIS IS ALL @ihni’s FAULT. She had a dream about a scenario a little like this, and then we had a LONG chat about it, and then somehow this happened. Apparently we both have a huge thing for, like, hardcore Billy-angst, particularly around Billy being misunderstood by essentially nice people who don’t treat him nicely because they don’t KNOW.
This is REALLY REALLY ANGSTY, y'all. You have been warned. And kind of triggery, so please read the tags on AO3 BEFORE diving in.
Rotten
Billy’s dreaming.
Neil is standing over him, face deadly white and tight with anger, hands balled into fists. Billy did something wrong. Billy always does something wrong. His dad is speaking, voice raised, but the blood is rushing in Billy’s ears and he can’t hear what he’s saying. Telling Billy all the reasons he’s fucked up, all the ways he deserves what’s about to happen. Billy can’t hear. He can’t hear.
That happens sometimes; the words blur into each other, turning into a meaningless jumble of sound that settles around Billy’s shoulders like a shroud. He’s heard it all so many times before that he doesn’t need individual sentences to stand out.
This is a dark story. Please be warned. If dark angst isn’t your bag, don’t read it. Take care of your hearts and heads. Oh yeah and a Toni Braxton inspired this story. Go figure. I am very scared to post this. Please be kind.
Fifteen months.
You two had just crossed the one year mark, celebrating by driving to Indianapolis for the Rush concert and having sex in every corner of your Motel 13 room. It had been one of Billy’s favorite weekends since moving to Hawkins and you couldn’t hear The Body Electric without grinning to yourself and feeling tumultuously horny.
In your living room, you thought back to that weekend while fiddling with the yellow gold leaf pendant hanging from the thin necklace chain over your clavicle. It had been a birthday gift from Billy, a week late since he had been grounded on your actual birthday and couldn’t make it out to the bonfire party your best friend threw. Night Court played on the television, but it could have been static. You weren’t paying attention at all, just dragging the pendant from cheek to cheek and going over better memories in your mind. Every now and then, your thoughts would be interrupted with the same question, “Does he care?“
“Language!” Your father yells, peeking his head out of the front door.
“Sorry,” You drop your head, watching your feet as you walk back to the door, stopping before you walk in and turning to Max. You open your mouth, but before you say anything you shake your head and walk inside closing the door tightly behind you.
“What’s going on young lady?” Dad asks, eyebrows raised and arms folded across his chest. “I’ve never heard you use words like that.”
“Just frustrated and tired, it won’t happen again, I promise.”
“I doubt that,” He chuckles, “Just watch what you say around your mother, you know how she gets.” His eyes widen dramatically as he pats your shoulder and walks past you.
Your parents are polar opposites and most days you wonder how in the world they have been together. Your dad is laid back and goofy, and always was, as he would say ‘the class clown of Hawkins High’ which your mother would agree was a fact and likely holds the record. Your dad is also a hard-working business man outside of the home. He is basically an older, male version of his sister, Lottie.
Your mother is kind, but no-nonsense woman with a love of literature and sewing, which is probably where you got your determination for doing well in classes and love for reading. Your parents purchased an old video store in which they turned into a bookstore that your mother has been managing for the past four years. You normally work there during the summers to help out, but once you graduate, you’ve agreed to take over the bookstore as she has grown tired of it. She is the kind of mother that would sing lullabies and bake cupcakes for your class, but would also ground you for a week for getting a ‘C’ on a spelling test. She would set up beautiful parties for your birthday, but leave someone else to watch over you and your friends.
“…Y/n?” Your dad’s voice calls out from behind you.
“Yeah?” You turn to face him.
“You having trouble with that Hargrove kid?” He asks, eyebrow raised.
“Kind of, but it’s nothing that I cannot handle.” You shrug it off. “Thanks, Dad.”
“You let me know if you need me to…” He draws his finger across his throat as he crosses his eyes and sticks out his tongue.
“You’ll have to get in line behind Gary and Lottie.”
“Hey, I’m your dad, I think I deserve first in line.” He playfully boxes the air.
“I love you, Dad.” You laugh, wrapping your arms around him in a hug.
“I love you too, kiddo.” His deep chuckles vibrate his chest. “Now you better go make sure you have everything together for school tomorrow.”
***
At school the next day you are walking the hallways with Angie, books held tight to your chest as the two of you walk to your class together. She’s going on about her boyfriend, Joseph, who moved an hour away for college and how he is going to be back in town this week as college classes had just ended for the summer. She’s ecstatic because they actually get to spend some quality time together, especially with the school year coming to an end in a week and a half.
“…And his cousin Davey, the hot one, is going to be staying with him for a week or two and Joe said Davey thinks you’re cute. You should go to Vickie’s party with Davey on Wednesday.” Angie rambles.
“Wait, Angie is having a party in the middle of the week?” You ask, confused.
“Oh, yeah! Thursday is senior skip day. You think your mom’ll let you skip?”
“Mom would rather walk through hell in heels before she lets me skip school after being suspended.” You scoff. “I may be able to get away with going to the party and work something out with Dad, he’d understand.”
“I would die if you couldn’t!” Angie says dramatically.
“Angela, we are in English not theatre, please tone it down and take your seat.” Mr. Jordan glares over the thick brim of his glasses.
“Tone it down and take your seat. Blah, blah, blah.” She mocks him under her breath as the two of you walk to your normal seats.
The class slowly fills and right before the bell signals the start of class, Billy strolls in smirk playing across his face eating up all the attention from being back to school after being suspended. The popular, empty-headed girls warmly welcome him, calling him to a spot they save especially for him. As he stalks up to them, he glances over at you, face unreadable. It feels like the two of you are caught in a staring battle before one of the girls break it by grabbing Billy by the shirt and pulling him into the seat next to her.
“What was that about?” Angie leans across the aisle and whispers.
“I told you we aren’t on the best of terms right now. He’s just trying to intimidate me.” You open up your book.
“Y/n, that wasn’t a ‘fuck you’ look, but a ‘I want to fuck you’ look.” Angie nudges you, eyebrows raised.
“Whatever.” You scoff quietly.
“Y/n, you’ve just returned to school after your lengthy suspension, is being in my class today an issue?” Mr. Jordan call out in front of the class.
“No, sir.” You shake your head.
“And I trust you can act like a proper lady in the class room and keep quiet?” He looks down at you, arms folded across his chest.
“Yes, sir.” You say simple, biting your tongue in order to refrain from calling him out for talking to you like that.
“Thank you.” He smirks, turning back to the chalkboard.
With your head ducked like a scolded puppy, you glance over at Angie who mouths a guilty ‘sorry’ and you catch Billy looking at you, small smirk playing at his lips. You want to smack that smirk right off his devilishly handsome face. You want to not think he is so handsome, that his lips are so soft and kissable. You sigh, looking back at the chalkboard and your teacher accepting the idea that today is going to suck.
Class continues per usual, Mr. Jordan going on about whatever the hell he is talking about, normally you’d be paying attention, eating up every bit of knowledge that comes from his mouth, but you find yourself zoning out, staring down at your hands and just letting the world continue without you, until Angie nudges you with wide eyes, nodding toward the front of the class.
“Please bring your brain back to Earth, Ms. Y/L/N. Also if I could have you and Mr. Hargrove speak with me after class, I have some things to discuss.” Mr Jordan says with that normal sour-look on his face.
“Yes, Mr. Jordan. My apologies.” You nod, tucking your hands under the desk and tuning into what he is saying, despite the fact that it’s just going through one ear and out the other.
When the bell rings you hang back, slowly gathering your things and standing up to walk to Mr. Jordan’s desk in the front once everyone has filed out and to their next class. Billy slowly swaggers over, a look of disinterest on his face and a subtle glare at you before Mr. Jordan speaks.
“I received your final project while the two of you were out suspended. You had another week to work on it are you sure you are ready for it to be graded?” He asks.
“Yes sir, we worked hard on the project while we were out and I made sure to triple-check it before turning it in.” You nod, refusing to look at Billy as you hold your books close.
“Okay, I just wanted to make sure I spoke with you and give you the opportunity before moving forward. Another thing I wanted to mention is the fact that the two of you were suspended and now you are at school, make sure your brains are on the work and not each other.”
“Sir, I know I was a little distracted today, but it has nothing to do with Mr. Hargrove.” You defend yourself, but Billy stays quiet.
“Please, Ms. Y/L/N, I am not a fool.” He shakes his head and nods to the door. “The two of you received a 96% on the project. Now I will see you both here and mentally ready for class tomorrow.”
“Absolutely, thank you!” You smile wide and turn, exiting the class.
“Absolutely, thank you.” Billy mocks after the two of you make it into the hallway. “Why are you avoiding me Y/L/N?”
“Oh no stupid nickname? Why the hell have you been avoiding me, Hargrove?” You whip around, eyebrows furrowed and jaw set.
“What gives you that idea?” He chuckles, leaning against some lockers.
“Oh I don’t know, maybe playing drag race on our street every time you see me. Can’t get away from me quick enough? It doesn’t matter anyway, we have no reason that we need to associate with each other anymore so don’t worry about it.” You go to turn around but he catches you by the arm.
“What are you doing Wednesday?” He asks in a low, sultry voice.
“Besides school, I have plans and you aren’t part of it. The only reason I talked to you that day in the first place was because Max asked me to. I was civil with you because we had a project together-”
“Is that what you call making out and wearing my clothes?” He cuts you off.
“I have no desire to speak with you about this anymore or at all. So fuck completely off.” You turn around so quickly you’re surprised that you didn’t give yourself whiplash and march over to Angie who is waiting at your locker, eyes wide.
“Well shit.” She says astonished.
“Tell Davey I’m excited to see him again.” You shove your books in your locker and slam it closed before walking to your next class.
