A/N: This story is supposed to take place between the end of season 2 and the start of season 3.
Taken In Hand
Max duct-taped her skateboard, trying to block out the ferocious bickering coming from Billy's room. The damned thing snapped in two from her last duct tape mending when she attempted to ride it last night. Now she was stuck trying to fix it again. This was the millionth time bitching Billy broke something of hers in one of his infamous fits of her "disobeying" him. But this was the first time she heard Billy having a shouting match with his father.
Hearing Billy's dad, Neil, yell at him wasn't anything new. In fact, it was terrifying when he reached that point. Max never forgot how awed she was the first time she saw Billy fix his attitude when his dad snapped at him. But Neil's yelling fits were seldom; for the most part, he spoke in hushed tones, giving whispered warnings, which weren't any less horrifying. Billy would normally comply without so much as a complaint, following blindly like a frightened pup. But this time, Billy was biting back.
"I keep telling you it's not my fault!" Billy snapped. "Why can't you understand that?!"
His dad scoffed. "You expect me to believe you came home late because Maxine drugged you?! That's far-fetched even for you!"
"I have the fucking needle mark in my neck to prove it!"
"Right. What a clever excuse to hide what you were really doing last night!"
"I WASN'T DRINKING!"
They'd been yelling at each other for what seemed like hours. As soon as Billy stumbled through the door that morning looking like the dead, Neil was on him like stink on shit.
Neither he nor Maxine came home last night. Well, technically, Max came home way past midnight. Even when she returned, Billy still wasn't home, and that made her mother and stepfather ask a lot of questions: Are you ok? Where were you? Where's Billy? How did you get home? To which she replied: I'm fine. At the arcade. I don't know. I walked.
Of course, most of those responses were blatant lies. She was out with Lucas and the others to fight off those monsters–Demodogs as Dustin would say. Plus, she took Billy's car to help save the world and all. A car she conveniently parked a few blocks down the road to avoid questions of why her license-less butt was driving Billy's car. But her doing so resulted in Neil assuming Max walked home at night all the way from the arcade all alone. She never did any walking.
But Billy sure did.
Max smiled at the thought. When Billy did eventually return, he came home woozy from her jamming that needle of morphine in his neck. Neil immediately chalked it up to drinking. The "audacity" of his son to "disobey" him even after he told him to look for Max the night before.
"I did look for her! And the little twirp stabbed me in the neck!"
Billy had no problem telling how she jabbed a needle in him, but not once did he admit Max threatened to castrate him with a baseball bat filled with nails. Still, a brief pang of guilt gripped her chest. He wasn't lying. And it conflicted her. Should she tell the truth and end this bickering, or should she let him get his just desserts? Max leaned towards the latter. She could have been merciful if he didn't slam Lucas against a bookshelf and pummel Steve what's his face in the, well, face. For now, she'd just see how things played out.
"You think I believe that shit?!" Neil said. "Hell, your face even looks like you were in a drunken brawl. What? We're you fighting over one of your whores?"
"No! But at least if I drank, I'd defend them instead of putting a hand on my 'whores'."
A brazen smack blared from the room, following a loud thud. Max stopped mid-tape and sat up at attention. Furniture banged against the wall. Feet shuffled along the floor. Flapping pages of books tumbled to the hardwood. Another smack. A dull thump of knuckles hitting flesh. Max's breath slightly quickened when she heard Billy gasping for air.
"Get . . . Get off me!" he choked.
Max jump at the harsh smack that sounded again. Then suddenly, all the tussling stopped, leaving nothing but silence. Max held her breath. She put down the duct tape, listening in anticipation, her heart racing faster with each passing second.
Billy took a huge breath and coughed manically. Max released a relieved breath of her own, but the hairs on her skin still stood tall. There was no movement. No sound but Billy's cough. Then the jingle of a belt buckle.
"What are you doing?" Billy croaked.
Heavy boots thudded along the floor.
"No. No, stop. Stop!"
A whoosh, a loud thwack, and a yelp from Billy. And again, just as swift. Everything happened so fast, Max couldn't assess. Thrashing ensued. The bed creaked, and the sound of boots scraped along the floor. Another smack, and another yelp. More thrashing. What was going on? But then, one brutal, rhythmic lick after the other, the situation was unmistakable.
Neil was whipping Billy's ass. Better put, thrashing it.
"Fucking stop! Fuck!" Billy cried, but the blows persisted.
Nothing but the sound of Neil's belt and Billy's guttural cries bounced off the walls for a solid minute. This was the first time in several years that Max heard Billy wailing like a distressed child. Another loud whack echoed from behind the closed door to Billy's room. She had heard him get a thrashing before, but that was years ago when he was barely a teenager. But after last night when she didn't come home, she figured that was the last straw for his father.
"It wasn't my fault!" Billy cried again, this time his voice shaking a little.
"Shut up!" Neil barked back. "You insulted me right in my face. You disrespected me, and you disrespected your sister. Now turn around and stay still! I said stay still!"
Billy bellowed when another smack erupted. With each passing blow, his groans grew frequent, more careless. Max fought to harden her heart. After all the times he treated her worse than dirt, he deserved it, right? Right? But no matter what, those vicious slaps threw a wrench in her chest. She should say something. She had to say something.
Max set down her skateboard, ready to move, but another smack glued her to the bed. It would be beyond stupid to interrupt Neil in a fit of rage.
Smack!
A muffled yelp escaped through the closed door. Each brutal hit made Max jump, and the sounds were just getting worse and worse.
"You should have been looking after your sister!" Neil shouted, never breaking the rhythm of the licks. "You left her to walk home alone in the damn dark just for your own selfishness!"
Smack!
Smack!
Thwack!
It went on like that for a good minute. Then, the barrage of blows came to a halt. After a moment in silence, Max realized Neil was catching his breath. And suddenly, the fear chaining Max to the bed ebbed. She slowly slid to the floor and tiptoed to her door, cracking it just enough to look across the hall and see Billy's closed door. Max perked her ears, hearing ragged breathing and low mumbles. She strained to hear.
"It wasn't my fault. I swear it wasn't my fault . . ." Billy said, his words soft and broken.
Max jumped when a louder smack broke the silence. Then another.
"Stop lying to me!" Neil said, giving another lash. "You were supposed to watch her! She was your responsibility! And you will stay right there on that bed until you can own up to your mistakes!"
The barrage of beltings continued. Max, again, was frozen with fear, horrified by the angry cries Billy made. Shoes kicked at the floor like sticks on a drum. Billy said nothing, just buried his face in the sheets to muffle his screams as he endured relentless blow after blow. His groans seemed unworldly to Max. She instinctively grabbed her chest as though keeping it from bursting through. She might cry, at least that's how it felt. Getting punished for being a jerk was one thing, but to be whipped for something he honestly had no control over was a different story.
Max took a breath. She was going to do it. She was going to go out there, knock on that door, and get Neil to stop this. Otherwise, there was no telling how long the punishment would continue.
Max took another breath, trying to psych herself up. Just as she put her hand on the doorknob, Billy shouted, "OK!"
The licks stopped once more.
A moment passed for him to catch his breath. "OK . . ." he said again, nearly in whispers. He tried to hold back his sobs, but some occasionally broke through.
"Go on," Neil said.
There was another brief pause. "Max . . ." He sniffed. "Max was my responsibility . . . and I should have been watching her. It was . . ."
"It was . . ." Neil coaxed.
Billy cleared his throat. "It was my mistake."
They said nothing for a moment after that. Max could only hear the looping of Neil's belt and the clank as he fastened it.
"You're going to stay in here for the rest of the day. Is that understood?" Neil said.
"Yes, sir," Billy said softly.
"You're not having any dinner tonight either, understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"And tomorrow, you're going to apologize to Maxine for your behavior and mean it. Understand?"
There was a pause.
The floor creaked under Neil's footstep, his voice sterner. "Do. You. Under-stand?"
Billy mumbled under his breath.
"I'm sorry. What was that?"
"Yes. Sir."
"Good, because if you haven't done it by tomorrow night, you will have a repeat of today. Understand?"
"Yes, sir."
Billy's door swung open. Max pulled out of sight behind her door as Neil strode down the hall, his boots thudding along. His door closed in the distance. Only the sound of soft sniffles was left.
After waiting a moment, Max slowly peeked out of her room and into his. Billy rose from his bed, picking up his fallen cassette tapes as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. It was a sight to see; Max never thought she'd see the day when he'd be brought so low.
Max moved to get a better view, but the creak of her door drew Billy's attention. He looked up. Their eyes met. Billy quickly slammed his door shut. For a moment, there was no sound. Then, Metallica played through the door on the lowest volume she'd ever heard Billy put it on. Max soon shut her own door.
Max sighed, releasing all her pent-up anxiety. Billy may have been a jerk, but she didn't want this. She didn't mean for this to get so out of hand. In fact, she didn't mean for anything to happen. All she knew was that she had to set things straight. With Billy? With Neil? She didn't know. She didn't even know what "setting things straight" meant in this situation. She just knew that pang in her chest wouldn't let her do nothing.
To be continued . . .
Eventually . . .