Steve carefully walked to the front door of the Byers house, making sure not to make any sudden movements. He was grateful that Dustin and Max were sticking pretty close to his side, even though he'd never admit it. He was going to do everything in his power to stay upright until he didn't have to anymore. It would be helpful if a squirrel or something popped out of the trees and scared them a little, just so he'd get another boost of adrenaline. Was it possible to run out? He really hoped not.

Steve pushed the kids behind him as he finally got to the door. He was giving Billy a chance, but he wasn't stupid. He wasn't going to let his guard down completely. So if Billy was waiting just inside the house with a gun or something, Steve was going to take the hit. But Billy wasn't holding a gun when he finally opened the door. He was holding bits of broken plate though.

"What are you doing?" Steve blurted out, staring in confusion as Billy was hunched over in the kitchen with his hands full of ceramic.

"Getting rid of any evidence proving I was here," Billy shrugged, staring up at them blankly. All of the kids were frozen behind him and Steve was calculating their odds of escaping as well as his battered mind could, before Billy snorted and rolled his eyes. "Too soon?"

"Kind of!" Steve huffed, glaring as he herded the kids further into the house. They still gave Billy a wide berth.

"I didn't see a broom or dustpan, but I figured I should clean up. At least the part of the mess that I caused," Billy explained, before waving around at the rest of the house. "What the hell were you doing in here?"

"Uh, playing a game? It's private," Steve stuttered, not able to come up with a better lie at the moment with his pounding headache. All the papers taped along the walls and floor would be very hard to explain. And it probably wouldn't be a wise idea to bring anyone else into the fold.

"Right," Billy replied, although it was clear he didn't believe his answer. Billy probably wouldn't believe the truth either. There was a lump of irrefutable proof chilling out in the fridge, but showing Billy that would be a last resort. At least someone should be spared those particular nightmares. "Is the nail bat part of the game too?"

"Y-yes? It's just a prop."

"Didn't look fake when Max was threatening me with it." Steve snapped his head to the side to stare at the girl in question. She didn't even look guilty.

"You threatened someone's life with a baseball bat while I was unconscious?"

"I didn't threaten his life with it, just the future generations of Hargroves," Max replied, crossing her arms in defiance.

"What're you- oh. Oh! Oh," Steve exclaimed as his brain finally caught up with what she meant. He had to admit, he was kind of impressed. Steve couldn't let them know that, since he had to be the mature one. "Well, no one is threatening anyone else, got it?"

"Whatever," Max grunted, while the other kids grumbled under their breath.

"I need verbal agreements," Steve demanded, looking pointedly at the group. They begrudgingly complied, before going back to doing whatever it was they were doing. Probably planning another escapade that would give Steve a heart attack. He turned back to Billy expectantly, raising an eyebrow. "Hargrove?"

"What?"

"Verbal agreement."

"Are you serious?"

"Very."

"Fine. If that's what you need to hear to fall asleep at night, sure," Billy smirked, dumping his handful into the trash.

"Well then, do you think you could do me a favor?"

"What's that?"

"Catch me," Steve mumbled, before his knees buckled. All of the excitement was finally catching up to him and for some reason, he only had control of his voice at the moment and not his body. He probably should've saved the last little bit of conversation for after he was sitting down, but his decision making skills weren't at their peak currently. And now he was paying for it. But surprisingly enough, Billy darted forward and caught him again.

"Are you gonna make a habit out of this? I'm starting to think you enjoy it," Billy grunted, dragging him over to the couch and plopping him down on it roughly. "Is there a first aid kit in this place?"

"I got it," Mike muttered, trotting out of the room and down the hall. Steve tried to push himself into a more upright position, since staying slumped over and passing out was not an option. He more or less got himself propped up next to the arm of the couch, which was better than nothing. It wasn't the most comfortable couch he'd ever sat on, but right now it felt like heaven. Steve could probably stay there for the rest of his life. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he closed his eyes for just a second.

"Here."

"I'm up!" Steve shouted, jolting up and reaching for a bat that wasn't there. Max was next to him, staring at him with wide eyes and a glass of water in her hands. "Oh. Hey."

"Are you okay?"

"Of course," Steve insisted. The way his hand shook as he accepted the glass from her wasn't helping his case, but once he drank the water, everything would be better. "Thank you." The water was a little warm and it felt a bit heavy in his stomach, but it was still amazing. Steve forced himself to take small sips, since puking on Billy might snap their tenuous civility. It would serve him right though, since he was the reason Steve's stomach felt like it wanted to somersault out of his throat.

"Found it," Mike announced, holding the kit above his head as he walked back into the room. He paused before coming any closer, since Billy was standing in between him and Steve.

"Give it here," Billy commanded, snapping his fingers and holding out his hand for the kit. Mike glanced over at him to see what he should do, so Steve just shrugged a little and nodded. There probably wasn't a scalpel in it or something for Billy to stab him with. Mike reluctantly handed it over, then went back over to where the boys were. Max was still sitting next to him on the couch.

"I can handle it," Steve said, watching in surprise as Billy rifled through the supplies and laid a few out.

"Really? Is that what you call what you've got on your face so far?" Billy scoffed, gesturing to his forehead. Steve raised his hand, feeling around and finding something stuck to his skin. He peeled it off, hissing as it stung a little. It was a colorful bandage and Steve felt equal parts annoyance and fondness for these kids. That seemed to be the theme of their relationship so far.

"I don't think we did a bad job," Dustin piped up from his corner.

"I'm pretty sure I have the most practice with stuff like this," Billy muttered, and again Steve felt that pang in his chest. They had experience patching themselves up after fighting and defeating monsters. Billy's monster was at home with him every day. "Don't give me that look."

"I'm not giving you any look," Steve said quickly, smoothing out his features. Even a hint of pity would piss Billy off. Billy smirked, before pulling the rest of the bandages off his face with no warning. "Shit!"

"Quit whining," Billy admonished, dousing a cotton pad with alcohol and pressing it against one of Steve's cuts.

"Son of a bitch!" Steve grunted, bouncing his leg to distract himself from the burn in his face. It wasn't working. "You suck."

"Don't be such a baby."

"I'm not a baby!"

"You're acting like a baby."

"Screw you."

"I thought you said I wasn't your type?" Billy smirked, finally ending his torture and pulling the alcohol away. Steve was about to snap something back, when Billy started softly rubbing cream on one of his cuts. He was a lot more gentle than Steve ever expected. Even Max was staring at him in surprise. This was the brother that she should've been getting all along. The fact that Billy was capable of it was a good sign. Steve stayed silent as Billy did his work, bandaging up the worst of the cuts with more mature colors this time. And even though his head was still pounding, his face was throbbing, and his chest and back ached with every breath, he felt a little bit better.

"Thank you. I mean, it's weird to get patched up by the person who beat me up in the first place, but thanks," Steve said sincerely after Billy started putting the supplies back.

"Whatever."

"Do you need help cleaning yourself up?"

"You barely hit me," Billy scoffed, flicking at the little bit of dried blood under his nose.

"Excuse me? I got a couple of good hits in before you used that plate!"

"Keep dreaming," Billy chuckled, lighting another cigarette. He pulled a bottle out of the kit and tossed it at Steve's chest. Max snatched it out of the air before it could hit him, which Steve really appreciated. "They don't have any of the good shit in here, but it's better than nothing."

"I'll get you some more water," Max said, grabbing his glass and walking back into the kitchen. Billy watched her go, looking at her with an expression Steve couldn't quite figure out. Maybe regret.

"They're good kids, you know? I haven't really interacted with them much before yesterday, but it's true," Steve said quietly, hoping that no one would overhear the conversation. "And they would never do anything to hurt Max."

"What's your role in all of this? Why were you here with them?" Billy questioned. He didn't sound as suspicious as he had earlier, so Steve considered that progress.

"I'm the babysitter."

"Here," Max said, handing Steve back his glass. He took it gratefully, shaking out a few of the Tylenol tablets as well. Not really what he wanted, but good enough for now.

"Thank you."

"Here," Max said again. Steve looked up in confusion, before hiding his smile behind his glass. Max had brought water over for Billy as well and he was staring at it like she was trying to hand him an alien. He finally accepted the glass from her after a few more seconds, nodding slightly in acknowledgement. Steve tossed him the pill bottle, feeling a little satisfaction when it bounced off his shoulder and into his lap. It snapped Billy out of his stupor and he rolled his eyes, grabbing the bottle and downing a double dose. Maybe Steve had gotten a few good hits in. Billy moved over to the other side of the room, sitting on the floor against the wall across from him.

"So, what's the plan now?" Dustin asked, plopping down next to him on the couch.

"Good question," Steve sighed, tipping his head to rest on top of Dustin's curls. It wasn't a move he'd usually go for, but they just looked so soft right now. And since Dustin didn't say anything, he took it as permission to stay there.

Steve wasn't really a planner. Dustin had come up with most of the ideas when it came to luring in the demodogs. He was just the guy who reacted on the fly as needed. And right now, he was just letting his instincts guide him. Getting everyone safe and back in the house was as far as he'd gotten. At least he had the time until everyone else came back to figure everything out.

"What the hell is going on?" Hopper boomed from the doorway, propping up an exhausted looking Eleven. The Byers family and Nancy were right behind him. So much for having time to plan.