The Paper Knight and The Killing Tree

by Thrashing-Light

All the trinkets and tracks led into the Killing Tree. Well, trailed into the gate. Steve's whole body was about to shut down because the two least likely people to even be together in the same room, were trapped together in the Upside-Down: Erica Sinclair and Billy Hargrove. And it was all his fault. A story of unexpected friendships and expected hardships. Eventual Harringrove.

8. A Forgotten Blade

The Paper Knight and The Killing Tree

Chapter Eight: A Forgotten Blade

"Meeting him couldn't possibly be...more...awk...than..." Billy, half sitting on the bed, leaned off to see that Steve had passed out again. Every urge in him, every tendon in his fingers wanted him to do some dumb girl shit like brush the sweaty hair off his clammy, pinched forehead.

He just barely resisted.

Never in his sauciest wet dreams would Billy have thought Steve Harrington would kiss him, much less kiss him SOBER. Billy didn't even intentionally mean to egg him on! He was baiting Steve into slapping him again, not a hot tonguing. Steve always steeled up and got live-wire charged whenever he bagged on Wheeler. But Billy had to insure his insults were a slam dunk because Steve could also be pretty fucking dense when it suited him. So he had pour the fag on thick, sticky, and sweet.

Just how graphic did his deep-throat gay details have to go for Steve belt him black and blue?

His idea, Byers level of graphic. Easy play. High key pouring salt into the raw wound that someone else wanted to gloss that FREAK'S cherry over King Steve's would WORK STEVE OUT.

Especially if it was a guy.

Of course, he'd rather stick his dick in Susan than Jonathan Byers. HA, boy wouldn't THAT be fucked up.

Steve was supposed to be DISGUSTED that Billy read even a little into the Bulgasari's flirting. He was supposed to crack him across the jaw that he'd dare even THINK Steve would bat for team queer. Billy would risk Steve HATING everything he was, spitting on him in the hall, throwing 'bows in basketball, getting people to exile him in Hawkins as a Faggot if it meant Steve would PUT UP and not GIVE UP.

He got fire alright, but Steve didn't fucking burn him, he burned FOR him.

Steve flamed full tilt JEALOUS.

King Steve jealous over Byers for a flip-out fairy like himself. They really were stuck in a parallel universe.

On paper, Billy had initiated and been surprised by much better kisses. Steve's attempt was all chapped lips, left-over chili, and ice. But Billy would take a kiss like that over anyone Hawkins...No. Simply anyone had to offer him.

That kiss caused him to forget every language in his head, it caught him off-guard like a good basketball juke.

'You and I both know, if anyone in Hawkins is going to fuck you in your Z28, It's ME.' That ran chills through his ribs. His blood never craved a deep dicking so much in his LIFE. He forgot he was supposed to be miserable. And that wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair Steve made him pillow-talk soft.

He had to answer that by pressing Steve back down into bed, make him pool and melt. Invading his mouth with his so he'd pant, squirm and cream his designer jeans. Or...maybe Billy wanted Steve to do that to him.

But, now Billy looked at Steve shallowly breathing with one foot in his grave. He didn't deserve the Belle of the ball. His beast wasn't going to magically turn into a prince at the end of this squalid, little fairy tale. Steve lay broken and that was because Billy broke him.

Happily-ever-after his mixed-race ass.

Billy felt a spooky presence to his right and he jolted as Sideways Girl came up to owl at him.

"Can I help you?" He asked, annoyed.

"Max has the other one." Jane passed him a piece of paper.

"Why would I give a rat's ass wha-" Billy opened the paper and, despite knowing better, his heart paused anyway.

His Maman and him.

He still missed her, even after all these years. Sang Hoon told him once, drunk off cheap malt liquor, that wasn't weak to miss her. Billy cursed at himself anyway.

"My brother Marcus took this photo, I was wearing his hand-me-down Lakers T. If he was as good at staying out of the way of Johnny Law as he was with a camera, he wouldn't have been locked up." Billy wasn't sure why he said all of that out loud. Maybe there was that look in her eye that begged for more information and he couldn't talk about his Maman right now.

Not after what that Bulgasari showed him.

"I was locked up too, but I didn't know it. Papa and the scientists took me from my mama. They kept me in a lab with my sister. I escaped, and so did she." Sideways girl smiled just a little, like Bayani would. He pocketed the paper as everything suddenly made total sense.

This...changed things. Scientists...Those scientists.

Billy's hunch was right about what the Chief said earlier, about this girl not being his own blood. The lab, the scientists...they had to be the same ones that were after Bayani if they caged her.

"Marcus always said, 'La liberté avant tout', liberty above all else. Hope you made those pendejos pay." Billy said it because he had a feeling she wanted some sort of bonding thing from him. Why? No fucking clue.

He didn't want a gaggle of snotty kids waddling and quacking after him like Steve did.

"Yes. My sister is getting her revenge too. What about Bayani?" She didn't shirk her gaze from him, just smiled a bit and those dark eyes of her glinted. This girl was cracked as an egg on a windshield.

"Bayani? Oh yeah. But if I tell you about that, your dad will shoot me and then that really would be a circus." Billy snorted; picturing the scene he'd create if he told her about how Bayani cut off two fingers off a scientist while dressed up as Cyndi Lauper.

Then creepy girl held out her wrist. He caught the ink easily enough. 11. Now, most idiots in Hawkins might think it was a tattoo, but Billy knew a brand when he saw one.

A brand meant you belonged to someone. The scientists thought she belonged to them. Property.

"Does Bayani, have one too? My sister has an 8." She asked timidly.

"Bayani has had ink covering all of his chest, arms, wrists, and hands since I can remember. You can ask him when you see him." Billy hadn't even considered that Bayani's traditional Filipino tats were a cover up.

"… Bitchin." Oh MIERDA He just gave her an ANNOYING idea.

"Jenjang (shit)...you're too young for a tattoo. Just cover it up with more of Erica's friendship bracelets and your bad makeup for now." Billy sighed. The last thing he needed was the Chief chewing his ear off because Sideways got Hep-C from some back alley 'stick-and-poke' shop in Indianapolis.

Sideways girl just picked at her bracelet and walked back out of the room, leaving Billy with a HUGE fucking problem.

Billy Loga was a lot of terrible things, but he wasn't disloyal to his family.

Well, not until now.

If there was anyone in this fucked up universe he didn't have to worry about, it would be Bayani Anagolay Lakapati. Baya could handle himself, and had been for thirty-one years. If he were here, he'd have that Bulgasari's balls under his teal stilettos.

No one could outmaneuver Bayani...except the scientists who tampered with his brain.

Billy didn't have a damn clue if Baya had seen scientists in Hawkins in a 'mind vision', or if Bayani was just driving in BLIND. Steve talking with Sang Hoon and Mei meant that after the call, Mei had definitely called Baya and told him about everything.

Of course, the two parts of his life he was desperately trying to keep separate managed to collide like a train wreck. Billy wasn't sure if he could ever explain that part of his life to Steve, or if he'd even get the chance.

NO. Steve promised he wouldn't give up. So Billy wouldn't give up on him either. He caught that spark in Steve's eyes, the spark that tore his heart open and made it bleed messy.

Billy, admittedly, had no fucking clue if Bayani could actually help Steve, but it was a solid bet. Baya could remember anything he saw, even a recipe for dimsum he had read eleven years ago, and was cool as ICE under pressure. He may not be an exorcisms expert, like Javier, but he always just came through in the clutch.

Kinda like Mei, who loved that dimsum recipe.

Jesus, he couldn't believe Mei and Steve had an actual conversation. Steve and Hoonie having a conversation? That held water. Weirdly enough they'd probably hit it off because Hoonie was a total doofus who had the WORST sense of humor.

Billy would have sworn he was blue in the face that Mei would claw Steve open and eat him alive just like that Cujo did to Neil. Speaking of that, Billy didn't even know if Baya saw Neil try to kill him, Neil get his throat ripped out, anything in this Hellscape, or WHAT.

Kantot (fuck)!

But what he did know, was that Baya on a 'Vision Quest' kicked up some serious dust. Baya would do more than just rattle a few cages. He would break into houses, beat people up, kidnap, stalk… basically stop at nothing till he found what (or in this case who) he was searching for.

Billy had left LA without a single 'adios amigos' to anyone in his family to keep them safe from Neil. He cut himself off from Bayani by never calling out for him, or even thinking about him. Every time Billy felt Bayani search for him, an itchy tingle in the back of his skull, he drank in the dark until it stopped. He left his family for their own good, so they that they rebuild the life that Luc William Logan broke apart.

It was true, he was only worth what he didn't fuck up.

Billy pissed all that work away because when he got high on Ketamine he turned scared and SOFT and reached out to Bayani. If Bayani travelled all the way to cowshit Hawkins for him, and got taken by the scientists and caged for it, Billy would never forgive himself.

Billy's mouth went desert dry. Was he going to kill another member of his family?

He really did break everything he touched.

It was too late to call Bayani off. He Knew once Bayani saw Steve looking like frozen bait in the black liquid room, Baya would double down and commit to driving all the way.

What if his last-ditch effort to save Steve, doomed his Kuya (big brother)?

Billy's stomach roiled and he could taste the ash and rancid darkness in the back of his throat. Billy had thought of waiting for Erica to wake up to see if her rainbow light worked. They didn't think they would have to before the exorcism so they didn't think about it. It also took a massive toll on her. Billy didn't want to risk her.

But he'd risk Bayani? Je ne suis qu'une merde de chien (I'm a piece of dogshit).

And what if Bayani couldn't save Steve?

Then he would have pissed into the wind for no reason. He'd ruin Bayani's life, AND bring the 'Little-Hawkins-House on the Prairie' family to RUIN too.

54 minutes ago

---

Billy stared into the filthy toilet of Tonya's vile, backwards Hawkins bathroom. He studied what had just come out of his throat.

It tasted like rancid, acidic charred death, and looked like it too.

Billy hurled about two grams of bubbling grey ash and three egg-sized goops of thick, oily-black tar into the porcelain throne. The goop sorta looked like residue of a pan of lasagna that Ant once tried to make in his Maman's oven. He never let Ant live that cooking disaster down. His whole dinky apartment stunk like burned tomatoes and decay for three days after.

Now he was pretty sure his insides were doing the same thing, burning.

Decaying.

He knew that breathing all this fire like a walking flamethrower would have its consequences. Erica would get super tired. He just didn't think he'd actually puke out his own damn insides. He didn't even know what parts of his body this was, but his sides pinched and roiled like something was definitely WRONG.

If he was lucky, his body was getting rid of all the non-essential organs like tonsils or appendix first.

But, he had Bulhaeng (shit luck).

His insides wrenched, cramping and jutting with sharp creases of pain, but this was just bitch-pain, like when Mei would be on her damn period. He would ride this out. He had a Bulgasari to distract.

And not only was that going to be fun, but it was also pretty damn necessary. It was his fault Steve had gotten possessed in the first place. If he hadn't been so damn Lǔmǎng (reckless), Steve wouldn't have had to use his aura to center him.

Steve, whether he really understood what he did or not, had saved him. HIM. Steve put his life on the line for a misfit, bat-shit crazy, flip-out who couldn't even prevent his own old man from ripping him out by his nappy mullet out of his own damn Camaro.

He didn't get Steve. At all. Was he really flirting with him that WHOLE time, or was that the Bulgasari jerking him around for kicks? How much of what he said to him right after the whole fight happened was true? How much was a mind game?

He looked at himself in the grimy mirror. His sallow, haggard, and scared reflection stared blankly back.

Clearly a damn mind-game. Who would flirt with this?

He turned on the tap to see clear water pour out. He rinsed out his mouth. Clear water...

Putain (FUCK).

No way was any of it real. Any of this. He was still in Hawkins, in his house. He was late for school wasn't he?

POUND. POUND. POUND.

Billy jumped out of his skin at the pounding on the door.

"You done getting pretty in there?" Neil. He was late dropping off Max.

The toilet wouldn't flush.

He'd get blamed for it.

Billy stepped out to see a broad shouldered, grim man in a green button up shirt and camouflage jacket looming over him.

"You didn't even flush. Typical selfish... What kinda manners…" Neil. Neil. Neil. He bolted straight to attention eyes focused on an indeterminate point beyond Neil's left ear.

"It wouldn't work, sir. I'll take responsibility for it after practice." Billy automatically responded, hands behind his back, trying not to flinch or brace for the hit.

Pause.

"…Hey, kiddo, let's just go." The voice sounded too soft and kiddo?! Billy blinked. Neil never called him kiddo.

Oh. MERDE. It was that damn cop! Oh, fuck his LIFE.

Just play it cool.

"Sure thing." Billy's face flushed red with humiliation. It was official, his brain was officially fried SPAM. Just throw him in nuthouse and be done.

They walked and the chief closed his eyes when they got to the front door. See, Billy figured that the Bulgasari couldn't wheedle his way into his head after what happened, but the others… who knew.

So that's why Cabbage Patch had the idea of blindfolding themselves (or just closing their eyes in chief's case) Billy drove all of them in shifts to Tonya Richards' house.

He'd be pretty fucking shocked if anyone in their goody-two shoes circus recognized where he was taking them. Tonya graduated high school a couple years prior and her mother was loosey-goose hippy who was hot (for a broad), and let them throw parties.

She also lived just a mile and a half away from him, which was convenient.

He just blankly led the Chief out to the police truck's passenger side and opened the door so he could fumble his lardass in. He strode around to the driver's side patting the knife, his zippo, and his pack of cigarettes as he eased into the dirty seat.

He waited for that lame joke of 'oh I bet this is the first time you've sat up front in a police car' or 'please don't tell me you've ever driven one of these', but it never came. His anger boiled in him anyway, as he cranked the ignition and the engine baaarrrellly turned over.

Billy slowly eased out of the front yard, focusing his haywire braincells to be alert so he could rock the Bulgasari's world.

Silence.

The chief got cagey and opened his eyes.

"You should have stayed behind. I can do this myself." Billy made the turn onto his street.

"Of course, because that worked out so well for you last time." The chief sounded real fucking cheeky. Billy pursed his lips tight and the steering wheel tighter. Blood flushed through his veins.

'Don't lose your cool, Loga. This is for Steve. You need to fix your mess; this is your responsibility.'

"I'm. Not. Your. Responsibility. Just because you got a badge and MORE BAGGAGE doesn't mean you can use me to… pat yourself on the back and say 'Good job chief Cheeseburger, you saved some shitty mutt.'" Billy scathed, gritting his teeth. He was driving slow to ensure he didn't attract any attention from the Bulgasari, and he already wanted to gun it to end this car-ride. Billy itched for the fight. He didn't know why the Chief insisted he come.

The Chief dryly laughed.

"If you think this is all about making myself feel better, then you're even more turned-around than I thought." Chief dryly chuckled as his lighter went 'snick'. "You need a wake-up call." Chief inhaled deep as if steading himself.

Billy itched for a fight as the cigarette ignited.

"Me? HA. My eyes are wide fucking open. Look at yourself in the rearview. You've got some savior complex to come here to rescue Erica. You even brought your daughter here...and talk about 'turned around', what is HER deal?" Billy didn't really intend on changing the subject, but really, what the fuck was SHE about?

He wasn't deaf or stupid. He heard what the Bulgasari said about the Chief. At one point, he had another daughter. He fucked up saving his first daughter over WHO knows what.

The Chief had him by the collar of his shirt and brutally yanked him across the cab, causing the truck to veer.

"Jane's been through more than you could ever DREAM of. Her life up until recently was HELL and I took her in to protect her, and yes I brought her here. She is here because wanted to find and save you, so show some goddamn gratitude." Chief Churro bit each word and this time it was Billy's turn to laugh.

So that was it, she wasn't HIS.

He must have taken in Little Miss Sideways just like Maya did him. Billy didn't spot a wedding band on Chief's finger, and he sure as hell didn't look like he could string along a possum, let alone a mistress.

Chief Cheesesteak had to be all this crazy girl had.

Talk about bleak.

Though...Maya and Chief kept getting more and more in common.

"I told you all get Erica out, and leave me BE. I told you to get LOST, so this is NOT on me, you FAT JUNKIE." Billy's voice quavered as he turned to face the Chief, taking his gaze fully off the road. His eyes blazed bright and wild, but the Chief's stared right back, locking.

Deadlock.

"You know, you're a real piece of work. I never said it was on you. You don't need to ask for help to be grateful for it." Chief shoved him back into the drivers' seat and Billy's head hit the passenger side window with some force. "Yes, I did. I risked my daughter, the one I didn't fail, because I also vowed to protect and serve all residents of Hawkins, which includes YOU." Chief's voice darkened bitter like black coffee. Jerry had said something similar once after Maya's funeral.

'I risked my partner, your Maya, because we vowed to protect and serve...I think I regret it.' That was the real reason why Jerry quit, not the cripple-mobile. Whether Chief realized it or not, he'd regret going after him with his whole circus afterwards just like Jerry.

Billy's gut soured with a dormant pool of fear. This stupid Chief was going to go the way of Maya, Dead. Then Vivian, Steve, Cabbage, crazy-eyes, all of 'em would pin his death on Billy Loga like a fucking target.

Chief took a deep drag. "You front big and bad, but really you're just barely holding it together, and you don't know how to ask for help." Chief took a deep drag and exhaled smoke through his nose.

Billy saw RED.

"I don't want YOUR help." Billy gritted his teeth; he didn't lie. He didn't even want a glass of water from this cop.

"Newsflash, I don't care if you want it." That didn't sound like a lie either. Billy didn't GET this guy. Why was he so HUNG UP on him? His daughter was back with Steve and Little Hickshit. He could have easily stayed at Tonya's. DAMNIT, he really just wanted to do this ON HIS OWN.

Because now if he didn't protect this fucking cop, that crazy girl would end up on her own, and probably blow up a farm or two with her mind powers.

She'd end up worse than Luc William Loga, that was for DAMN sure.

Super max or the needle, or maybe something worse.

He'd just end up beaten to death, like Erica's Uncle Josue, if he made it out.

"I don't NEED your help either. Go back to the circus and be a REAL dad. Go look after Little Miss Sideways. Let me do what I want." Billy seethe, and his eyes finally landed on his house.

His NOT-Camaro was still parked outside, and even from this distance he could tell it looked like absolute shit. Neil may have made him keep it clean, but he did it because Ant liked it showroom status.

If Antoine rolled in his grave when Max wrecked it, had to be SPINNING to see their baby now.

After Ant died, Marcus inherited the Camaro, but handed the keys over to Billy anyway. It just then clicked the title was still in Marcus' name.

If Billy died here, Marcus would inherit the same car twice.

"Oh, so you can go get yourself killed on purpose? So, you can just destroy more around you, on purpose? Me letting you do what you want ends up with what you really want: you dead and a huge mess for the rest of us." Chief inhaled bright again, and Billy's pulse jacked up.

"You don't have A FUCKING CLUE what I want." Billy yelled, face flushing hot with blood.

The chief didn't react at all.

"I got your number, kid." Chief replied, confident as a fucking American flag.

"Pollas en vinagre!(not a chance)" That phrase literally meant, 'dicks in vinegar' and one of his favorites to sling around with Javier. Billy whipped the steering wheel and heel-toed the police truck into a rough powerslide. Chief held on tight to the 'oh shit' handle and Billy maneuvered the truck to peel to a perfect stop next to his precious NOT-Camaro.

"When I drag you back to Hawkins, I'm revoking your license and signing you up for mandatory community service." The Chief cursed and Billy cackled good and loud. What a joke! Like he'd actually be getting out of this Bat Country alive.

He threw open the door and vaulted out of the truck, grabbing the gas canister from the back seat.

"Like I said before, you'd have to catch me first, which is about as unlikely as..." Billy paused in flipping off the Chief off.

Neil's house lurched in front of them, threatening, dark and positively alive. Needles of dread shot through Billy's lungs. No way this was just some damn house, this was a beast in disguise. Javier would say this breathed and groaned, and had its own fangs and heartbeat.

He didn't jive the whole, 'face your demons' garbage, but this was exactly what this was turning into. His stomach jabbed with fresh pain as it twisted around itself. This haunted house was HIS business, and he was not going to have the death of this shǎ bī (stupid cunt) Cop on his conscience.

He was the King, damnit, and for once Cabbage had a semi-decent idea: distract the Bulgasari, and get some more weapons. Une Pierre deux coups (two birds one stone).

Which is why the rolled up to Neil's old shit-brick house and why he had his eye on the prize:

Neil's 'protect America war chest'.

By the lawnmower in the shed was locked the prized loot, a flac jacket, a few different grenades, a pair of binoculars, and an old rifle he stole off some 'commie zipperhead'. Though, the footlocker was missing the key ingredient to Neil's 'Defend America Special', his issued M16. Neil kept his pride and joy loaded under his side of the bed. Jesus Christo, now that Billy thought about it, it was a miracle Neil didn't empty a few steaming rounds in him before.

Neil probably thought he wasn't worth the ammunition. If so, he was right.

Billy's palm slicked with sweat on the metal handle of the gas canister. Despite his earlier bravado, Billy's mouth ran dry. His whole body prickled in an restless panic. He could see jagged shapes shifting in the woods behind Neil's shithole of a house.

He swore he saw Neil's furious face in the filthy, cracked front window.

NO. Neil was dead. Gone. EVISCERATED.

Steve's bright smile when he shoved his shoulder on the hood of the Buick flashed through his mind.

Billy wanted to slap himself, this was for Steve. Steve dying in Tonya's mother's bed because of him (which no one deserved to sleep in, let alone DIE in), and here he was standing here pissing his jeans over a rathole he wanted to burn down anyway.

For a split second, he wished Steve could be here when he lit this fucker up bright as New Year's Day on Santa Monica Pier.

'Porte tes couilles, Loga' (nut up), you have a house to loot and torch, and a Bulgasari to taunt.

Billy slammed the door shut on the truck, swallowing hard, pulse thumping in his ears. If Cabbage and Little Hickshit could pull off that exorcism, he could do this.

Javier and himself once helped Javier's madre exorcise their cat, Dulce, that out of nowhere started clawing her and Javier's calves to ribbons. Billy didn't think it would work, but damn if Dulce didn't turn into back to his cuddly, pussy self. Here, they were short on candles but still, it'd STICK.

The Chief waved his hand in front of him to get his attention like a dāiguā (idiot).

"Toolshed in the back. It has the army goods we need." Billy tongued out his bottom lip and jutted his jaw to the half dilapidated shed half visible in the yard on the right side of the house.

The shed squatted behind the kitchen steps Neil had kicked him down, but in front of the woods that Voyeur Byers had hidden in to snap those photos.

"Right...from 'Nam. Do you know if he kept his flac jacket? It would be good for Dustin." The Chief asked neutrally, drawing his revolver, scanning the grimy, silent woods.

Billy's free hand twitched, itching for his knife, but he fought the instinct. He didn't need the Chief thought he was losing his edge or his mind.

"Claro, but, you should give that kid a GUN and teach him to use it instead of that slingshot." Billy answered distractedly. Did a curtain move in the window?

Mei would swear it did. He missed her.

"...it's not going to come to that." The chief grumbled and began to trudge through the sticky grass over to the shed as if the house in front of them wasn't about to reach out and DEVOUR them. Billy didn't know if the Chief was just that much braver than he was, or just colossally stupid.

Probably both.

Just like the tip-off at the buzzer, Billy broke into a jog to catch up to the Chief, leaving the gas canister in front of the side steps he was kicked down not two days earlier. All he had to do was deal with the Chief, get his stash, torch the house to fuck with the Bulgasari, and make it back to Tonya's.

Cakewalk.

The Chief made it to the sunken shed locked with a heavy, rusty chain and padlock. Billy picked up a flowerpot and revealed the ancient, old key that opened the padlock. He knew where Neil hid all his keys, but that didn't mean he made use of that information. It was a mindfuck, a test. Neil could tell when his shit was even a millimeter out of place.

He gave the key to the Chief without a peep, he was busy what he did best: listening.

But aside from the Chief messing with the rusty padlock, he didn't pick up any Korean whispers, rustling or anything. The hairs standing at attention on the back of his neck told him the Bulgasari was skulking around close by. Billy would bet his life on it, and probably would end up doing so.

No. He was nastier and badder than whatever the Bulgasari threw at him. Fuck him for going after his King.

He was going to piss all over the ruins of his Kingdom.

A heavy scraping click and grind snapped Billy back to the door of the shed the Chief managed to unlock. He slowly opened the door and switched out his six shooter for the flashlight.

Billy, tense as a barbed wire fence around a police impound lot, took out his knife and flipped it.

"Looks clear. I'm going to go in first. It's that footlocker in the back, right?" Chief's flashlight lit all the dust and fluff up in the stagnant air. The flashlight touched its soft light on tools hanging up, another bottle of Wild Turkey 101, and landed on the ancient footlocker in the back. Billy swallowed thickly and concentrated on keeping steady.

Was this a trap, like in Indiana Jones? Sang Hoon and Mei loved that dumb fucking movie. Maybe Neil triggered it to explode. Maybe he was here, watching them.

"Y-yeah." Billy whispered pupils pin-pricks. He didn't mean to sound like a scared pussy, but he did anyway. The chief gave him an eyeful.

There was no way he could back up the Chief, BAD PLAY. He was too fucking reckless to make sure backwater Johnny Law got back to his crazy daughter. Chief was going to end up dead just like Maya.

They'd all blame him too. Steve. Erica. Vivian. They'd call him a damn Cop Killer. You can't bounce back from that.

So, he had to trick the Chief.

He'd be pissed at first, but he'd eventually get that he should have just stayed behind. Pulling the white knight hero act just got you killed.

Look at Steve.

The Chief, quieter and more carefully than Billy had ever SEEN him move slipped into the shed. And right as his potato-shaped ass got a few steps inside Billy slammed the door shut, and fastened the padlock like he had practiced it a million times.

POUND. POUND. POUND. The shed door trembled like Billy's bottom lip. Why was he so afraid right now? He didn't get it.

"Billy, now is not the time for your damn pranks!" The pounding continued and it clicked. Oh that's why, the pounding. He kept reminded him of Neil.

It tracked with time back in LA, when Neil found out about what happened to Max and pounded down Jerry's door. The only reason Neil left without Billy's scalp was because Ant grabbed Jerry's side piece and planted his feet between him and Neil. That must have been what did it. What pushed Neil to lynch Ant.

No one stood up to Neil and came out alive.

"Who locked who up now?! Junkie PIG. If you know what's good for you and your SIDEWAYS Kid, you'll stay out of my way, grasa kupal (fat prick)." Billy hissed through the door with volcanic fury.

"Billy, goddamnit, let me help, you can't do this alone -" He cut off the Chief.

"I can do whatever I want, SUCKER! I'm FREE! And if you think for a LA second I ever gave a shit about any of you, you're dumber than you fucking look." Billy taunted, voice high and zipping with of adrenaline. He spat on the ground for effect, and he knew the Chief hear him do it.

Again, Billy wasn't born yesterday. He knew that the Sheriff could probably bust out of that ramshackle shed pretty soon. Yet, when he did, he certainly wouldn't be going to help Billy Loga. It might take him a bit to find it, but make his way back to the circus tent with his where he BELONGED.

Buzzer set. Tip-off. Plantez vos pieds!

Billy picked up the gas canister and spilled a trail of gas through the dead grass up the sticky, tar covered steps that led to the screen door to the kitchen. His mouth dried out again as he yanked open the screen door of his house. He kicked in the rotted side door just like he always wanted to.

The satisfaction rang hollow because his hands shook like a 5.0 earthquake. He popped the top on the gas canister and began shaking the metallic smelling gasoline throughout the kitchen and through the living room.

"Shout...shout..shout at the devil..." Billy hummed one of the favorite Motley Crue songs, Looks Could Kill, as he stepped carefully across the floor, splashing the gas all over that sofa Neil would glare at him for sitting on. He splashed it on Susan's knitting shit. The TV Max always hogged.

He'd burn it all.

He expected the matted, sodden carpet to give out from underneath him, a Cujo to jump out at him, or both. The moldy, blackened walls of the house choked and closed in on him the closer as he finally got to the master bedroom.

The room he could never enter without expressed permission.

UGH FUCK IT. IT'S A ROOM. AND NEIL IS DEAD.

Black snares of terror seized his lungs cold anyway. His sides roiled and before he knew it, he puked up ash again into the living room. The acidic, chalky taste lingered thickly in his mouth. The stench of gasoline definitely didn't help.

A faint scratching noise scraped from the kitchen and Billy whipped around.

Nothing.

He white-knuckled his grip on his knife. No, Neil's knife. He sloshed more gasoline around as he ducked into the rancid bedroom. Billy caught a warped, half-ashen portrait above the dresser. Neil, Susan, and Max all scratched out and blackened to rot. He saw the belt that Neil would use to 'correct his mistakes' with hanging on the wall. His hunting boots stood ragged against the wall he would use to instill a' sense of responsibility' in Billy's ribs.

Tunnel vision, the rifle under the bed was the only thing that mattered. That and the money Billy stashed there. He hid it in Neil's room because Billy knew he'd look everywhere else.

Billy didn't know he was panting until he felt his own chest as he got to his knees next to the haunted, black draped bed.

He couldn't see what was under the blackened, rotted bed at all. The bed covering wavered a bit. Was that his own breath? Wind through the drafty house?

Or another creature from myth and movies?

Billy's senses prickled on high alert. Javier would be laying into him that the gun and his stash wasn't worth it, to get out. Mei would be shrieking at him for his recklessness.

But Ant...

Antoine would be telling him to get that gun and stick it to the Demon that dared try to kill his King. Even if Steve never wanted anything to do with him. Even if he ended up back with Wheeler, he'd STILL burn the Bulgasari's world for hurting him, for trying to own him.

Steve wasn't a possession.

And let it be known Billy Loga never backed down from a fight.

"GOT YA!" With a sudden exhale, and a tightly gripped knife, he flung up the decayed shroud and swiped out with the knife.

Air.

Nothing lunged, nothing bit, nothing came for him.

Covered in a layer of thick ashy dust, lay the rifle, He grabbed the rifle and gave it a once-over. He had no idea if it was too dirty to fire, much less where the safety was. He didn't do guns.

Then, he found the loose floorboard, now almost rotted out completely. He gripped it and peeled the soft wood back and reached into the gap. Something scurried around past his hand, but his fingertips grazed the treasure.

Marcus' Lakers bag. He grabbed his stash.

CRASH.

Living room.

He was all alone. Just as he wanted to be.

But he was El Lobo Feroz, and he'd plant his feet. He looped the dirty, purple canvas strap of the Lakers bag across his body, and then did the same for the M16 now across on his back.

He tapped out a cigarette, and put it between his lips.

"THAT'S RIGHT you fucked up BIG TIME going after MY KING. I'M GOING TO TEAR YOU APART." Billy shouted, hoping his voice didn't sound so shaky as he thought it did. Billy waited, listening.

A heavy, creaking footstep echoed through the living room, and he bolted up.

If it was the Chief, he'd shout something dumb.

Billy bit down on the filter of the cigarette, a flash of Neil picking up that lamp...fear noosed him taut.

Steve wasn't scared when he helped the kids before he had his shining armor. He couldn't be scared here. How DARE this Bulgasari try to SCARE him?! EL Lobo Feroz didn't fear ANYTHING, he just attacked.

Billy dug deep and bolted to the bedroom doorway that led back into the living room. With one fluid motion he flicked open the zippo and lit the cigarette. He sucked in a lungful of hair and blew before he even knew what he faced.

Poof.

Nothing but clouds of chalky ash and dark smoke spewed out of his mouth. Billy's gut twisted in shock and pain.

Gachi eobsneun (Worthless). Intuil (useless).

The plume of smoke and ash cleared to reveal a twisted figure blocking the front door.

Billy's heart full-out stopped and his stomach twisted tight and spiked to his heels. Billy couldn't scream if he was paid to.

The gnarled, dark figure loomed over him by at least a foot. It was all smoldering black mist, ashen grey skin, and long, jagged sharp claws. It took a step towards him with its freakishly long arms swinging out wide for a paralyzing strike.

All of this wasn't what chilled Billy's bones to ice and loosen his bladder, however.

Neil LIVED.

"You're too late Billyyyyyyy." Neil's voice hissed through Neil's mouth. His squinty eyes rolled around in his head, crimson and slit like a snake. Inside his mouth, Billy caught the sheen of saliva drip from countless fangs.

Billy shrunk, jaw dropping and the burning cigarette tumbled from his lips.

"...maman." Billy's mind blanked out to static and his whole body tingled.

Fight or flight.

Neil took a mammoth step forward, rumbling the floorboards which finally shook Billy to action.

FIGHT.

He shelved the knife and swung the rifle around. Sorry Maman, but he thought this one time, his promise was made to be broken. He flicked what he hoped what was the safety and pulled the trigger.

Click. Click. Like a spent lighter.

Billy didn't know what went wrong, he knew he should have stuck with the knife.

FLIGHT!

He slung the rifle back around again, and a gurgling laugh escaped from Neil's fanged mouth.

Neil lashed out with his spindly, clawed hand. Only because of his experience with fighting Bayani did he dodge in time into a low lunge. Damp drywall and wood exploded out from Neil's strike. The ashed cigarette tumbled from his lips as his whole body shook.

Chūzǒu (time to bounce!).

Billy dove left towards the kitchen, rifle bouncing harshly against his back.

Not a second later the entire load-bearing wall of the living room exploded into debris, dust and splinters. Billy flung himself to the left again around the corner into the kitchen.

His pulse jack-rabbited hotly in his neck, behind his ears. He had to distract Neil and stall for more time. He had to be worth something.

Billy sneezed on the vapors coming from the house. OH. The gasoline. Billy flipped open his trusty zippo, coaxing it to spark.

"You think I don't know what you're doing?!" Neil's fanged mouth crooked up into that SMUG smirk he'd always when he was correcting his behavior. A strong, elongated muscled arm struck him down to the floor, claws catching and carving his skin from his side. Billy hissed in fresh, raw pain, and his jeans dampened from the spilled gas. The lighter flew from his grasp as Neil picked it up and threw it out the already shattered front window.

Oh putain (oh fuck)!

Neil beat his worthless ass in Hawkins and he'd beat him again here. Only he was the REAL reaper this time, not like last Friday night when he ONLY got kicked through the screen door.

Billy just managed to scoot on his back into the kitchen, through the puddles of gasoline.

He had to get outside. Kitchen door behind him. He lunged for the door handle with his left hand like his life depended on it.

Got it.

A rumble behind him.

"Shhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiyyyyya" Billy howled high as one of Neil's claws slashed across his shoulder from left shoulder and caught on the rifle. The strap digging into his shoulder forced him off balance and sprawling to the ground.

Pain ripped through his back, but he wasn't going down here. He wasn't soft, he was harder than this. He had been hurt way WORSE than this. He stabbed back blindly with his knife and slashed something solid.

Neil shrieked and that gave Billy an opening to twist around back to the open door and stagger to his knees. Though something slimy and thick and strong as jumper cables lassoed his left thigh and whipped it out from underneath him.

Billy hit the curling linoleum floor hard again, splashing gas and slamming his right temple on the edge of the door jamb. Stars and blackness flooded the corners of his vision. Though he still caught a glimpse of the outside, and saw that the shed door looked closed STILL.

Maybe that chief really was as dumb as he looked.

"NO ESCAPE FOR YOU, YOU WORTHLESS FAGGOT!" Billy knew the only reason those claws didn't cleave him up was because of the rifle protected him.

"Venir a mi (come at me)—" the taunt died on Billy's lips and he realized just what had grappled his leg. Neil's jaw had split down the middle of his chin and a long, thick black as pitch tongue had coiled tourniquet tight around his leg.

Nightmare fuel. Billy screamed.

Terror rushed through his veins as a gargantuan, spider-like arm raised up, claws clacking.

"You'reeeee coming with me. You're mine..." Possession. Neil thought he was nothing but a burden, or a weight. But Neil was also crystal clear that no matter how Gachi eobsneun (Worthless), how much of a psicótica flip-out he was, that Billy was HIS.

Neil had him AGAIN.

Was this all some scripted Stephen King plot? Neil couldn't kill him in the real Hawkins, in his real kitchen, but he'd kill him in this twisted one. But Neil wasn't trying to kill him, he was trying to PUNISH him. His mind flashed to Steve fighting against him.

That's what the Bulgasari wanted all along, to use him against the others, right? The thought of him punching Steve's face in again...running him through with his knife.

"Try again, you oozing CUNT!" He may not have his fire, but he had his knife.

He double downed and slashed out at the tongue with the knife, slicing it clean in two.

A howling, otherworldly shriek, just like one that coke head made when he kicked in his teeth, pierced the air and made Billy's skin crawl like worms. The severed tongue flailed through the air, splattering black blood across Billy and the walls. The nub finally retracted back into Neil's cleft palette mouth. Fucking sick.

Billy scrambled through the doorway. He just had to get free of Neil's haunted house. Get free of Neil. Billy staggered into daylight, or what this hell hole tried to peddle them as daylight. Almost there.

Right before he could look up, the entire exterior wall of the kitchen exploded out. Rotten debris nailed Billy in his wounded back and the back of his head.

Billy yelped as his knee caught the edge of a concrete step, and he bit it rolling down them like some cripple.

Classic Loga fuck up.

His gut turned and he wretched damp ash and acidic globs of bile onto the blackened grass. That didn't matter though, he just had to hold out until Erica gave the 'all clear' signal. The signal that told him that Steve was OK. That his 'half-court shot at the buzzer' idea of an exorcism cured him.

Steve would live through this. He'd play in the basketball states tournament, move out of Redneck central... he'd get out.

Maging malaya, be free.

Reverberations rumbled through the putrid ground. Footsteps.

"You CANNOT run. Your friends, and the pretty boy you desire, cannot HIDE from me for long. I WILL find them and kill them. With or without you!" Neil thundered angrily, rearing his head through the busted open doorway.

Billy was born to break and be broken.

'I won't let you down either.' Steve looked him dead in his eyes. His brown eyes steadied him, they were always so solid, warm, and soft, like worn leather. He couldn't just give up and let Steve down. Let himself down.

Fuck this house. Fuck the Bulgasari and FUCK NEIL HARGROVE.

HE KILLED ANT. HE KIDNAPPED ERICA. HE DRAGGED THEM BOTH TO THAT TREE. HE MADE STEVE COME HERE.

HE HAD TO PAY.

"kkeojyeo jugda (fuck off and die), my friends will EAT YOUR HEART, you puta enferma (sick cunt). And if you were REALLY the King of your domain, you'd KNOW where they are! But you DON'T, so that makes ME EL REY DEL MUNDO!" Billy found his fury and brandished his knife in an offensive stance. Sure, he was out-gunned, but he'd figure something out.

'Move like water. Always get up when you get knocked down.' He shrugged off the rifle and the duffle bag, rolling his shoulders.

Neil regarded the shed, jagged fangs snapping open and shut. Did he know about the Chief?

"You fail them, just like your whore of a mother, that pig Maya, your faggot boyfriend, all died helping you, you undeserving little shit." Those words pierced. Those words were Neil's. Those words were true, but also NOT. It couldn't all be on him, sixty percent, maybe, but he didn't ask for any of this.

"No, you killed Antoine Kabore. That was YOUR sign around his neck. You hung him from our basketball court!" Billy edged towards the shed. He had to get the Chief out so he would fuck off and get Erica and the rest out of this Hellscape.

Erica would call Mei and tell her about Ant, she promised him.

"That Harrington boy you desire with your filthy affliction will die here because of you…." Neil, from the top of the steps, leapt high, landing on the grass, snarling, claws glinting.

"HOT TAKE, put up or SHUT UP." Billy taunted, waving him over, challenging Neil dead in his glowing, crimson eyes. He had to fake left, and bolt right towards the shed door.

Neil threw out his right arm, back to the right to the police truck and the Camaro.

Mā de (oh shit).

The truck groaned, rattled and then, as if someone strapped it in a slingshot, it clattered like a train over Billy's head. Billy ducked on instinct only to watch in vain as the truck collided into the shed with a deafening thunder of wood, metal, and glass. The impact rocked the ground and the dust cloud that plumed out choked him.

The truck and the shed twisted and crumpled together into a flattened junkyard. Billy's stomach rusted out hollow, and his jaw dropped.

He told the Chief not to follow him! Why did NO ONE LISTEN to him?!

"Another responsibility you have failed." Neil's fanged face twisted into what Billy assumed was another smug grin.

"You've done it now. You killed the father of a girl with crazy mind powers. He was a decent cop; he actually GAVE a shit about me for FUCK all reasons." Billy's face hardened like quick dry cement and his eyes blue out in shock.

Billy Loga killed the Chief. That sideways retard girl would end up a psicópata like him. Worse than him. Sang Hoon would be shoving him by now, screaming in his face that he couldn't let people who have mwonga ilh-eul (something to lose) into his life.

"The soviet SPY is contained, and will be disposed of soon…" Neil mocked sharply, his voice like metal grinding against stone. That did it, no one MOCKED him.

Billy flipped the knife in his hand then quicker than Ripley, Marcus' Doberman, he lunged forward. A sinewy charcoal arm whipped out and before Billy could even think, Neil's clawed hand grabbed the blade of the knife and wrenched it from his tight grip.

Neil hurled the knife back and to the right into the front yard where his lighter ended up.

Flaaaaash, Flaaaash.

The signal light came from the road, far off. Talk about coming full circle. Just like what happened Friday night with that voyeur Byers' camera, Little Hickshit shown her lighthouse-bright light at his place from Tonya's. Erica blasted her signal just like he told her to. She really was a damn good listener.

"T'as la tête dans le cul, et tu t'en rends même pas compte. (Your head is so far up your own ass you don't even know it). Steve WON'T be another Antoine!" Billy's lungs filled to the brim with helium. The exorcism worked and Steve would be alright!

It was all worth it.

"I've found them. I'll have your soul then I'll cut down your friends, one by one until all threats, foreign and domestic, are destroyed." Neil stalked towards him, and Billy planted his feet.

Maybe he could juke Neil and make a break for his Camaro, but FUCK he didn't have the keys. He definitely didn't have time to hotwire it, or maybe he did. Billy chanced a look beyond the corner of the house where the Camaro sat.

Maybe the light was playing tricks but he swore he saw something move by his car. Probably a Cujo lining up a sneak attack.

"Not fucking likely." He hissed. He served his purpose… but… he didn't want to go down here.

Then Neil's entire chest cavity divided and his ribcage hinged open like a venus fly trap. Inside Neil's organs all glistened and pulsate. The revolting smell of rotten fish and guts spewed into the air. It reminded him of when Bayani would take those four month long fishing gigs and would come back reeking.

A vortex of black and red haze twisted into the chest cavity like a vacuum.

A familiar headache spiked at his right temple. Billy doubled over in agonizing pain, puking up more ash, but this time at least there was less of it.

"Your soul is mine. You were presented to me, your my possession!" Billy's own heart skipped three beats. The Bulgasari couldn't get his soul before because he had Steve had protected him.

Now…

He had no one.

POP PAP PAP.

Billy may not know a damn thing about guns, but he knew gunshots.

The sharp, migraine stopped as soon as it started and Billy glanced up.

Neil's exposed heart popped like a water balloon filled with cheap cooking wine. Neil gasped and his chest zipped closed with a wet slurp. He immediately dropped to the dirt, scrabbling in the dirt.

Who?

Then a familiar sight sailed through the grey sky in a perfect arc.

A Wild Turkey 101 Molotov cocktail hit Neil square on the back and he erupted into flame.

Vibrant heat hit Billy as his field of vision lit up. Fire. And a lot of it. The liquor mixed with the spilled gasoline and raced through the lawn, and the steps, igniting the kitchen doorway. Neil writhed, snarled, and screamed on the ground, but Billy knew no amount of 'Stop, Drop and Rock and Roll' would save him.

His Camaro barking and growling to life caused Billy to finally look over and damn.

It was the chief!?

Relief smacked him like a baseball bat to the ribs, and he smirked in victory.

NOT a classic Loga fuck up.

Maybe that god Maman prayed to did answer sometimes.

"Hurry up, you pain in the ass!" Billy never thought he'd be thankful to hear that potato shaped Chief's voice from the driver's seat of his Camaro, but this was backwards-ville.

Billy picked up the rifle and his Lakers bag and booked it to his car as the house erupted in scorching plumes of smoke and fire. Shame he couldn't stop to enjoy it.

He settled into the passenger expecting, even wanting a beating. He spotted his keys in the ignition. OH, the cop must have taken them as evidence. Weird he hung onto them though.

"… I heard and saw it all." The chief stated neutral, the kind of practiced neutral only cops or fathers could do. Billy's throat swelled shut as he shifted in the unfamiliar passenger seat of his own car.

So, the Chief not only confirmed he was a faggot, but also had it bad for Steve. He probably pieced together information about his Maman, Maya, and Ant.

Chief floored it in reverse and raised his right hand, going for the revolver in the cupholder. Billy closed his eyes and lifted his hands in surrender, bracing for the pistol whip. Please not the ear.

"Damnit, RELAX. Do I look like I want to BEAT you? Here. Christ almighty." Chief groaned and Billy's eyes opened wide and skeptical.

The Chief was holding his zippo.

Chief punched the gas and let the engine roar.

"I won't say anything. I'm practiced at NDAs." Chief tossed the zippo Billy caught it, turning it over in his hands like a good luck charm. "I saw your mess in the bathroom, and on the lawn as well. When Jane overexerts herself, her powers they harm her too. On top of that, you need real help. I'd bet my left arm you have PTSD from Neil Hargrove and what you lived through in Compton." Chief informed, and Billy shook all over. He wasn't gonna be beat, AND the Chief STILL wanted to help him?

Billy began to protest, but the Chief held up a finger.

"Keep your mouth SHUT, for once. Here's how it's going to go from here on out. One, you're going to fall in line, you don't get to decide who does what, I do. Two, you're going to rest your damn powers. Three, you're going to wise up, and stop asking for the Upside-Down, or ME to punish you. You're a kid, you've made your fair share of mistakes, sure, but your mother, that detective who took you in after acted as her CI, and that other boy aren't dead because of you. Don't mistake us being here to get you out for being the reason we are all here in the first place." The Chief finished his lecture, which FINE, but how did he know he was an informant? Those loose-lipped cops at the 77th must've dished his dirt. If Steve didn't know about he was involved in back in South Central, the Chief must have kept his mouth SHUT.

The Chief could be trusted after all.

Billy nodded, sniffing. Was he crying? Couldn't be.

Pause.

"You're not a half-bad shot, for a hick Sherriff." Billy pursed his lips and swallowed, wiping his nose with that purple hanky that he still kept from Erica.

"You're not a half-bad with a knife, for a smart-ass punk." Billy's face scrunched up. He left Neil's knife in the yard. He'd have to get another.

Present Time

---

"We're ready." Jane stated coming back into the room and Billy clicked his tongue, looking at everyone.

"Alright, two things, one don't shout or spout shit, Bayani isn't a fan of loudmouths." Billy pointedly looked at Cabbage.

"He means you, Loudmouth." Erica sassed sleepily, barely keeping her eyes open. It lacked the earlier tartness he was used to hearing from her.

"He's literally the loudest person ever. I've heard and quieter and smarter tractors." Cabbage huffed. Billy ignored the dig.

"Two, Bayani is ZEN as a Tibetan monastery, but don't PUSH it on his appearance." Billy eyed the Chief on this one.

Their surroundings warped before the Chief could ask what he meant.

One minute they were in Tonya Richards mother's bedroom (which through her mother he intimately knew and would take that information to the grave), the next him the whole three ring circus had teleported to a pristine, powdered sand beach.

All Malibu blue sky, teal water, and golden sunshine. The air caught still in his lungs, but instead of smelling salt, he didn't smell anything. The beach extended endlessly in each direction.

"This is some hallucination." Vivian murmured and Billy scrunched his nose. Jane turned around looking around like a kid at Disneyland.

"…Did it work?!" Cabbage asked, kicking at sand.

"Yes, he's here, and he made this." Sideways pointed to the ocean.

Out of a cresting, turquoise wave, sauntered a silhouette. He smoothly approached them as if he was one with the damn sea.

He knew that thick black braid, and arrow straight posture from anywhere.

Bayani.

Dry as a bone, he swept up the beach, dark eyes scanning him. He was rocking those aqua high-heeled pumps (which somehow didn't sink into the sand) which he wore to his Maman's funeral, skin-tight, dark jeans, and a white ribbed tank top, covered by a rugged black motorcycle jacket. A strand of cheap purple mardi-gras beads bounced on his chest. Billy never quite understood how he could pull off such bullshit fashion and look so HARD.

And to top it off, his had on his signature black cherry lipstick. What a fucking diva, he didn't change a BIT.

"Bitchin' heels." Billy heard crazy-eyes murmur from behind him.

"Jane. Language, please. I get it now." He heard the Chief moan.

Despite the earlier panic, the borderline dread, an old emotion exploded unexpected in his chest.

Relief. Joy. Home.

Baya smiled huge and genuine, cheeks appling and red lips bowed. One by one he removed his pumps and placed them next to each other just like he would if he were entering a house.

Billy didn't even know he was smiling back just has hard until he realized his cheeks hurt.

"Oh they're definitely brothers. They smile the same." He heard Vivian joke a bit behind him.

Baya sauntered over to him, so much taller than his 5'6" frame carried him.

"Bay-" and that's when it came, a flash of a black and jeans and Billy barely had time to block a greeting roundhouse kick with his left hand. Sand flew everywhere and into his eye.

"Goddammit-" Billy swung out with a right hook. It was immediately caught and in a swift movement. Billy sort-of let that happen. He preferred this to a handshake any day, sand or no sand.

Billy braced to be thrown to the sand, but instead Baya opted to twist his arm behind his back. Then he effortlessly wrenched and applied enough pressure to let Billy know that he could break his wrist like snapping a Popsicle stick.

"You've lost your edge since I've been gone, Kuya (big brother). I saw that kick coming a mile away." Billy chuckled, knowing it wasn't in the least bit true. Baya's smooth hands remained tight on his arm as his other hand reached up and flicked him the temple. Bata could be such an immature little shit.

"Really, runt?" Bayani's soft, light hearted voice blanketed the room in a calm note as he released Billy. Billy knew that Bayani knew he let him win easy. He didn't have time to fuck around with his older brother in some sort of trip down happy-go-lucky memory lane when Steve was dying on the sand.

"As much as I'd love to shoot the shit, and tell you for the last time, you can't call people taller than you, runt, I…we...need your help." Billy backed up a bit and moved a little towards Steve, laying in the middle of them all on the powdery sand.

Bayani pointed to himself incredulously, feigning confusion. Baya was playing coy for some reason.

Oh, he wanted an intro. That DIVA.

"This is Bayani, from right to left you got Cabbage, Vivian Sinclair, Jane, Chief, the sleeping girl scout is Erica Sinclair, the passed out one is Steve Harrington." Billy shifted uncomfortably; he had no idea if Bayani knew just how close he was to certain members of this misfit circus.

"I've seen you all, The Magician, The Scholar, The Guardian, The Shepherd, The Priestess, and lastly The Dragon." Bayani's soft gaze hit Jane, Cabbage, Vivian, Chief, Erica, and lastly Steve. He didn't need Bayani to tell him he was 'The Demon'.

Bayani's dark eyes sparked at Billy as he waved to everyone. Oh. he knew something, and Billy knew he'd never hear the END of it.

"My name is DUSTIN HENDERSON, NOT a certain cruciferous vegetable, and yeah we've heard about you. Billy says you can see the future, so can you see if Steve will be OK? Can you see how we will beat the Mind Flayer?" Cabbage shot off his mouth just like he warned him NOT to.

"Too many different outcomes." Bayani shook his head walked up to Cabbage who, to Billy's credit, didn't back down. "I see glimpses and hear chords of what is arcane, what is lost, the ties that bind us, and what may come to be." Bayani smiled warmly, snapping his fingers. A vision of Max, Lucas and Susan came forth walking into Uncle Ted's house, holding what looked like McDonalds. In an instant the scene was gone.

"Max! Lucas! Is that right now?!" Cabbage's jaw dropped. Billy noticed that Vivian visibly relaxed as well. He forgot for a moment she had more than one kid.

"He's special, Dustin. When I looked for him, he found me and pulled me in. He saw me first. He's a seer." Sideways girl finally piped up and FLOORED Billy like a charge in basketball. She had Bayani dead to rights.

"You are far more gifted than I." Bayani complimented, and he swore he saw that girl blush in that way that girls do when they get a crush. Bayani wasn't going for that though, it was always just what happened.

"ENOUGH with the chit chat and magic, let's speed this along, kid." Hop shifted, as if expecting a fight, but trying to talk one down.

Billy bolted to attention. That was one thing that would send Baya over the deep end, being talked down to and PUSHED. Condescension or being rushed was frowned upon in Filipino culture.

Baya's smile shifted so subtle that someone only caught if you knew him real well.

"Chief Hopper, he's no 'kid', he's a grown man and I appreciated seeing that my Lucas is safe and sound." Vivian to the fucking rescue. She shifted a sleeping Erica in her arms.

Bayani winked sharp and smiled sharper at Sheriff Slip-up. Billy rolled his eyes. Bayani just turned thirty-one on New Years day and preened because he definitely didn't look it.

"From the fragments of I've seen and heard, my particular expertise is not what is needed." Bayani smiled sadly and Billy's heart constricted. "However… I think I can guide you all in helping your good friend, runt. Plantez vos pieds." Bayani smiled and turned to raise his perfect eyebrows knowingly. That's what he was hinting at, he KNEW about STEVE.

Billy didn't say anything as he looked down to Steve who was laying in the sand and hadn't stirred. A desperate itching in his lungs urged him to grab the lapels of Bayani's heavy bomber jacket and yell 'Anything.'

Cabbage took a seat in the sand clumsily next to him.

"I'll need to eliminate distractions to help him…I suppose I'll pull the car over here." Bayani looked back and despite the situation, burst out in laughter.

Bayani had his license revoked four years ago when he rear-ended an ice cream truck going 60 miles per hour, in a 25 mile per hour zone, in reverse. He claimed the music from the ice cream truck gave him a vision, but Billy was just pretty sure that Bayani was fleeing the scientists again.

That left the question of whose car Bayani had. Bayani, unlike himself, didn't hotwire cars.

"You can drive and do this vision with El?!" Cabbage finally chimed in the family discussion.

"It's easy when everyone pulls aside." Bayani shrugged it off as blue and red lights blinked on the ceiling above them. Distant police sirens blared through the chorus of 'Paranoid' by Black Sabbath. Ozzy Osborne was punctuated with a single, deep bark.

'snick' it clicked.

"Anak ng patina (son of a gun)! Jerry actually lent you his old cruiser? And is Ripley with you? Jerry and Marcus have both lost it." Billy couldn't imagine what Jerry hit his head on to agree to lend Bayani the cruiser. Marcus letting Bayani depart with his precious baby, Ripley, was also obscene.

"They've been desperate for a looong time, Loga." Bayani hinted softly without turning around. Oh, was this some sort of guilt trip?

"Huwag magsimula (Don't start), Kuya." Billy hissed menacingly.

Baya, quicker than a rattlesnake, grabbed him by the collar of his ripped blue shirt.

"Hindi ako nagsisimula kahit ano, sinusubukan ko na lutasin ang lahat. (I'm not starting anything, I'm trying to resolve everything)." Baya's placid but cold tone could cut through concrete. His eyes slashed dark above his cheeks and his red lips creased into a thin red line. Billy then really felt like a pile of shit. He was the one asking Baya for help, so really the third degree was deserved.

"Kakausapin kita mamaya. (I'll talk to you later)." Bayani smiled and let Billy off the hook. He tugged off his leather jacket and folded it, placing it into the sand.

"OK, we get it, you speak other languages. ENGLISH!" Billy ignored Cabbage.

Baya's tribal tattoos came into full view, lacing and crossing down the outsides of his arms and onto the backs of his hands like spades. Billy also spotted the sheath tucked into the back of his jeans. Bayani brought along his prized, 11 inch long curved Garab knife that his father passed down to him.

The room began to warp away into the familiar black liquid room which was all for the best because he was sick of being reminded of the beaches he missed. Instead of waves, however, colors glowed out from everyone like they turned radioactive. Billy had seen these colors before.

Bayani glowed his signature Malibu blue. Erica was a soft, fuzzy care-bear lavender. The Chief, predictably, was a dark, moody midnight blue. Vivian glowed the same color as Prince's Purple Rain album. Cabbage could have been wearing a Utah Jazz jersey he glowed so green. Jane stood out, her aura like ice, just a hair blue.

Bayani smirked and that's when Billy really looked down at his aura. His own aura glowed much fainter and weaker than the rest of the other Misfits but there it was…

YEP. Still David goddamn Bowie PINK.

"This is what you see normally, right? You got Synesthesia; I researched all sorts of things when our friend Will got possessed by the Mind Flayer." Cabbage yammered on, but, per usual Billy had tuned him out. Instead he squatted low next to Steve, across from Cabbage.

He didn't catch what Vivan whispered to Cabbage, but it sounded like a scolding.

Steve's aura was supposed to be gold. That warm, shimmering honey that saved him.

But it WASN'T.

His gold aura had been almost completely snuffed out with a crawling, grey and black sickness. It almost looked like his aura was rotting away. On his left arm, where he had gotten bit, it was darkest and even shown a bit dark red.

Billy didn't even realize that he had started to try to brush the noxious black away until Bayani gave him a somber look.

"Just like what happened with the trees." Chief spoke up, his voice a dark blue ribbon, and Billy didn't really get what he was getting at. Billy racked his brain to see if he could remember anything about trees…wait…his research about the chemicals. Those pumpkins were all rotted.

Was the Bulgasari causing Steve to rot?

"I've seen a fleeting image of a rotted tree. His aura has been corrupted, like a rot…like…blight." Bayani's words came out as a wash of hues of blues. If this is what Bayani always saw, then yeah maybe him rear-ending that ice cream truck made a little more sense.

"Blight….OF COURSE BLIGHT! I should've known. Good call bringing this guy here, El!" Cabbage all but shouted, his words burbled out around him like around green bubbles. He got out his notebook and scribbled something

Bayani turned his attention towards Cabbage slowly, listening.

"Blight's a powerful Dungeons and Dragons spell too. It does necrotic and darkening damage, which means it drains vitality from its target over time. See here, Steve's arm? He probably contracted Blight when he got bit. There are four stages of blight: affliction, deterioration, unconsciousness then…well then you gotta reroll a new character. This didn't start because Steve protected Billy from that attack, this has been festering for a while and now just got THIS bad." Cabbage's babblings ebbed out now like a free flow of green ripples as he showed Bayani something in his notebook. Billy narrowed his eyes. That dumb geeky game they played unfortunately sounded like…exactly what Steve was going through.

Maybe this whole game wasn't so fantasy as he thought.

"We must disinfect the blight on his aura. Nicely researched." Bayani's words came out as blue puffs of smoke, mingling with the green and turning a soft aqua. Billy wrinkled his nose, he didn't expect Cabbage and Bayani to get so buddy-buddy.

Ordinarily, he might be a bit jealous, well OK he was. BUT, he could SHELVE it because if this is what it took to save Steve, he would throw them both a damn fiesta.

"Thanks, there's a good reason I'm the primary note taker for my party. But… you can't disinfect Blight. In D&D you just rest to get rid of Blight, but it's too late for that." Dustin explained and Billy at this point got impatient.

"Great deduction, geek, let's keep droning on about how you keep thinking this is some GAME." Billy bit out, exasperated, his words a greyish pink. Billy HATED feeling helpless.

"Steve's life isn't a GAME to me! He's my brother, you're the trash who treats everything like a game, so shove off!" Cabbage got heated like he wanted to pop shit and Billy fought the urge to shove him for telling him to shove off.

And did he DARE imply he thought this was all a damn game?! Billy rocked up to his balls of feet, tonguing out his bottom lip, fighting to rein in his wrath.

"Hey, cool it both of you, focus your egos on solving this Blight. Those farmers said the Blight was unlike anything they've seen before. They told me they couldn't even turn their crops around with baking soda. They had to pay a fortune for colloidal silver, and I never heard the end of it. Can a person even get Blight?" The Chief stepped up, rubbing a hand down his face. It was weird that the Chief wasn't going only after him, but Cabbage too.

"They can't. Whatever sickness Steven has, Chief Hopper, it's not something that makes any medical sense. Fungal infections don't cause hypothermia. This is something beyond my rudimentary knowledge of medicine." Vivian bounced Erica a bit, eyes hard.

"It's not corporeal, it's ethereal." Bayani whispered and a light went off in Cabbage's mind as he scribbled something else down.

"Dustin, you were bit and Erica healed you, but you're not Blighted. Loga, you're the same." Sideways pointed out.

"In D&D, Bards, like Erica, can't heal Blight. It had to be something else that helped me not get Blighted." Dustin flipped through his book.

'Snick' like a lighter it all clicked, he had forgotten what he thought from the beginning about the Bulgasari. He was the Kingpin!

"Intent." Billy admitted darkly. "The Bulgasari has made it clear it wants Erica and I alive, and in particular, Steve dead. He's focused on him, keeps putting out hits." Billy looked Bayani dead in his eyes and recognition hardened Bayani. "Na parang napatay Russians Jerry at Maya (just like the Russians killed Jerry and Maya)." Billy said the rest in Tagalog and Bayani grimaced slightly in recognition.

"...Ugh, I can't believe I'm about to agree with you for all the wrong reasons, but I AM. Blight is a 4th level spell, most monsters can't cast it a lot. They have to save it for when it counts, and on players they really want dead. He really wants to kill Steve if the Mind Flayer did this." Cabbage trailed off, curling his hands into fists.

"Why Steve?" Jane asked, curious.

"Steve Harrington is the golden dragon of legend. Herring, like the fish." Bayani said as if that was fucking obvious.

"Oh god, not more of that Chinese nonsense again. We heard enough from your brainiac friend." Chief facepalmed, muttering to himself.

Wait.

"Mei TOLD you all about the story of the koi and the dragon?" Billy asked, coming to the realization that the only reason Mei didn't rip Steve apart was that she thought Steve was the fish in her favorite myth. She must have been REAL stoned.

"Chief Hopper, other peoples' culture is not nonsense. You've seen Steven transform, he has SCALES. Billy's sister was right about that boy." Vivian corrected like a whip, she really had it out for Chief. Maybe they got into it when he wasn't paying attention, or maybe the Sheriff was just bad with women.

"Oh my god! I got it. Steve's not our Paladin, he's Protanther, the gold dragon in Dungeons and Dragons! He's the King of Justice that vows to fight evil." Cabbage babbled, but Billy just focused more on Steve. Bit by bit his aura seemed to be losing the fight against the Blight.

"Well, that's just great, how does this help him?" Billy snapped.

"I don't deal with mythology, Remove Curse might work, but I can't spell cast in real lifd. I don't have any special powers. I can't help Steve..." Cabbage's voice faltered and strangely, something in Billy gave way. Cabbage was really just worried about Steve the same way he was he worried about Bayani. He should really just lay off, same team.

"You don't need special powers to help. What you already have, is all you need" Bayani reached out to Cabbage to steady him and Bayani's aura seeped into Cabbage's turning it a jungle green.

"Whoa...that feels...weird." Cabbage reached out with his hand to the new color their auras made.

"Your specific aura, Dustin, is exactly what your Kuya needs." Bayani reassured as their auras merged.

"Green...like healthy plants, ones have not been contracted with Blight?" Chief asked, but Billy figured he didn't really want an answer.

"Photosynthesis?" The gears turned in Vivian's brain as well.

"You want me to cast Remove Curse, with my aura because it's green. Treat Blight like a curse in D&D and botany?" Cabbage perked up and Billy found himself feeling two things at once. One hope and validation, Bayani could and is helping Steve. The other, was jealousy.

He was kicking himself for it sure. He KNEW it was WRONG, but he wanted to be the one to help Steve, to be the one to repay him.

"Only your aura is the right color." Bayani nodded and guided Cabbage's hands by his shoulders over Steve's infected arm.

But, fuck his FEELINGS, fuck his ISSUES. His stupid egocentric hard-on for Steve was IRRESPONSIBLE and DANGEROUS and RECKLESS. Steve deserved better.

"Remove Curse!" Cabbage shouted with his hands splayed and his green aura began to ebb and flow out of his palms in steady pulses. Billy guessed this was the same way that the Bulgasari infected Steve.

Everyone froze, silent like the grave. Just like if they dared breathe wrong they'd fuck the whole thing up.

Please work...please work...PLEASE.

Vibrant green aura flooded into the murky, black infection, absorbing the darkness and reversing the flow. The darkness needled out, clawing to escape, but this was THEIR domain. The Bulgasari would be dominated here, even if it wasn't by HIM.

Slowly, the darkness receded and faded out, the green corralled it back to the original wound. They were almost out of the woods. Steve would be fine. He'd flash his smile, flip him off, and get those sexy scales back. Then, they'd go back and kick the teeth through the anus of the Bulgasari.

Bayani's expression furrowed. Worried. Billy concentrated to figure out why.

The darkness had been corralled into Steve's bite, but Cabbage's green aura had stopped advancing. It froze up like Tommy Harris at the key during a free throw stance.

"It's stalled...Hey, Bayani it stopped, I can't push past it to heal his arm. If I can't get rid all of it...it will...it will just grow back! What do I do?!" Cabbage blabbered and panicked. Billy rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans and looked up to Bayani.

"The game you and Mike play, Hawkins, and Billy your myths, they're connected...they come together, as one." Jane began to put the puzzle together and yeah, but what the fuck did that mean? Mei just said he turned into a dragon!

Billy looked up to Baya, his purple Mardi-Gras beads dangled from his neck.

He hadn't put his own back on.

"Chief Hopper, you said they used Colloidal silver to get rid of the Blight on the crops right? Billy, your..." Vivian didn't have to finish the sentence. She meant his Maman's silver St Michael's pendant, the Patron Saint of Warriors.

It really did all come together, that dumb fantasy game, real life, and the myths.

The Bulgasari did rip it off Steve like it burned him! That was when Steve really took a turn for the worse. He didn't actually think his pendant WORKED.

Billy Loga was a goddamn shǎ bī (stupid cunt).

He dug into his pants pocket, carefully pushing aside the baggie of blow he hadn't gotten to yet, and pulled out the silver chain. It wasn't silver anymore because it had absorbed his own aura. It glowed a vibrant hot pink.

He caught Bayani's rare and genuine surprise. So, he hadn't seen him put this on Steve.

"Alright St Michael, time to go hard in the paint. Il vous protégera (this will protect you)." Billy, for the second time, looped the thin chain around Steve's head. Only this time he had to grab the back of his head to push it up off the watery floor, and instead of Steve's gaze heartedly burning him, everyone else's itched the back of his skull like flies.

Por armor del Dios (for fucks sake) Loga, be worth something.

The instant Billy let the pendant drop to the center of Steve's chest, a ripple of coral shocked out from the pendant and the dampened golden aura, flushed to life. The golden aura pulsed bright just like when it protected him against the Bulgasari when that fucker tried to steal his soul. Along with that shimmering rush, and Cabbage's green aura, the dark invasive aura disintegrated like it never had a fucking chance in the first place.

"STEVE! Can you hear me? It's Dustin! You're going to be OK!" Billy rocked back and let Dustin and Jane crowd Steve's space as color finally returned to his skin.

All the sudden a wash of awkwardness hit him like a summer swell. He didn't fit in.

He didn't belong.

They all clamored around Steve like rubberneckers at a car crash, and Billy evacuated the space.

He just remembered he had warn Bayani, who had also gotten up. Billy didn't know what to do with his hands, they itched for a cigarette. He didn't have time to dig one out as Bayani got deep into his space.

"Loga, nag-aalala ako sa iyo. Ang iyong aura ay mahina, pinatuyo, halos maubos (Loga, I'm worried about you. Your aura is weak, drained, almost depleted)." Bayani didn't skirt any issues, that was for damn sure.

"Walang tae, ako ay nasa impyerno (No shit. I'm in HELL)!" Billy bit out, defensive. He knew it was the wrong tone to take with Bayani and instantly regretted it. He tried again.

"Tignan mo, na babae doon ay nakunan ng mga siyentipiko. Ang mga ito ay sa Hawkins. Kailangan mo bumalik sa LA (Look, that girl over there was captured by those scientists. They're IN Hawkins. You need to go back to LA)." Billy chanced a change of subject, but the hard look in Bayani's eyes said he wasn't any of it.

"Alam ko ang aking mga panganib; Alam mo ba ang iyong mga panganib? Ikaw kaliwa atin, mo ba iwanan ang mga ito masyadong (I know my risks; do you know yours? You left us, are you going leave them too)?" Bayani's voice took a venomous edge, red lips in a tight frown.

"Hindi ako nabibilang sa kanila. Pero, siguro gusto ko (I don't belong with them, but maybe I want to)." Billy shocked himself by admitting that.

Did he really want to? Did it even matter if he did?

Bayani's left hand gripped Billy by the curls of his mullet, and forced his forehead to his.

"You belong where you wish to, don't deny yourself family." Bayani reassured in English, with their foreheads still pressed together, whipped his hand around to his back. The polished, balanced handle of his Garab knife found its way into Billy's hand.

"Hindi ko na kaya ito (I can't take this)." Billy choked out in Tagalog, immediately pushing it back, but Bayani held fast.

"You will take this, and you will use it to cut down your enemy." Bayani insisted, stepping away. And suddenly Billy had an insatiable urge to ask Bayani to take him with him. But Billy knew Bayani wouldn't even if he could.

And fight or flight instinct? he'd be betraying everything about him if he didn't take the knife and instead asked to leave.

FIGHT not flight.

"Kuya…thanks, I'll take good care of it." Billy unsheathed the wickedly curved blade of the Filipino traditional knife, admiring its craftsmanship, and sheathed it again.

"Anumang bagay para sa mga pamilya (Anything for family)." Bayani gestured pointedly with his chin to the circus behind him. "Mei was right about your second family…and Steve." Bayani mocked in English, picking up his heavy motorcycle jacket and shrugging it on, tugging the braid out.

Billy clicked his tongue. Steve sure did have a big fat mouth.

A big fat something else too.

"Labas kayo rito (Get outta here), Kuya. I got this… them." Billy corrected himself and meant it.

"Good. I'll back for my father's knife, runt. Oh, take this." Bayani flashed a winning smile and tossed over his Mardi-Gras beads. He caught it in his off hand, like hell he was gay enough to wear this.

Bayani pouted sternly. He huffed and put them on. OK, he maybe he was gay enough.

Bayani slipped back on his tacky heels. In an instant, he and the black room vanished like a mirage, and they back in Tonya's mother's bedroom.

Billy pushed the long sheath in the small of his back under his jeans, and turned around only to jump. He was face to face with Jane, her big eyes crawling over him.

"He left before I could ask him about his number, or thank him. Not fair." Jane's face scrunched like smelled a fart, or about throw a tantrum. Girls could be so dramatic.

"You don't need to thank him for Steve, but nothing is stopping you from just hitting schitzo redial." Billy retorted, mussing with her frizzy curls on pure instinct. She tilted her head, amused.

OK?

"I wanted to thank him for what he said to you. We're a family, Loga." Jane stared him down solid, and Billy's heart lightened like the soft fucker he was reforming into. He was about to deny it flat, when he zeroed in on who just stood up on his own free will.

Steve locked eyes with him, posed hot, strong, and everything Billy wanted press himself into. Billy let a heavy barbell of weight glide off his shoulders. Suddenly a warm solace and a deep fatigue settled over him. Steve could take the wheel for a bit, he needed to lay down.

"Hey, nice beads." Steve smiled sheepish. What a DORK. A dork he'd raze a frozen hell for.

"Steve! Billy's aura is Barbie PINK!" If he murdered Cabbage here, was it still in the Chief's jurisdiction?

---

Notes:

HELLO FRIENDS!

I LIVE STILL!

I'm gonna expound on my notes from this chapter later, but for now I'm just happy to be back. This chapter was another hard one to write. This fic probably has another four chapters left in it, and maybe an epilogue so thank you to all who have stuck with it so far!

Colloidal Silver can and does take care of Blight on plants. I am trying to keep everything as accurate as possible while having things come together. I really hope this is all making sense.

And yes, I have Dustin an integral part of this story, but no powers for him (yet?). I don't want this to get too out of control. In the next chapter, you'll have him helping devise a plan to beat our Bulgasari.

I hope you all liked my OC, Bayani. I really don't like including OCs that take the spotlight too much, but I do think he is more than just a convenient plot device. If the filipino was too much, its only because I wanted to keep it accurate when people spoke other languages. I also wanted them to have their own conversations because Billy can be pretty secretive.

And yes, Vivian Sinclair was being a bit harsh on Hop, you'll find out why later.

Anyway, please drop me a comment and let me know what you think!

-TL