A/N: Thank you so much for the kind words in the reviews for the last chapter. I really enjoy writing Billy's perspective as character analysis is my major thing. The next chapter is most likely going to be from Billy's perspective as well. For the now, this is a Sierra chapter. I hope you all enjoy reading this :)
~Sierra~
Knock, knock. Gentle fingers created a fist, making themselves known as they collided with the door. An urgency they had never experienced before. Blinding sun rays greeted me as I opened the door. Momentarily, she was invisible. For only a few seconds. And then for a whole year. But in that moment, the only thing I saw were her green eyes glinting from all the regret flooding into them. My own green eyes, inherited from her, locked onto hers. No regret in mine, only loss.
"Sierra"
Her lilting voice wavered. The hint of a Bronx accent still lingered in those pleasant notes. But like her, it was fading. She had been fading for six months.
January, running away in the wintry night. As if she was a ruined secret.
June, reappearing in the summer's breeze. Drifting in and out.
"Mom?"
She looked like Mom, sounded like Mom. Her raven curls that I had bundled in fists as a child were there, the round eyes fluttering as the shadows formed and dissipated when the clouds above chose to move along, allowing the sun in before veiling it just as quickly. Standing mere inches away from each other, like we were strangers, I gazed at her. Stomach tightening, heart rapidly beating.
I wanted to vomit. I wanted to scream. I wanted to hug her.
"I don't have much time, my darling girl"
Peering down, all the bewildered emotions turned into a smoldering, sheer hatred. It wasn't going to be just Zack and I anymore. Six months, and we had never known. One more life to be corrupted.
"Well then, say something"
Before I slam this door in your face and cast you out forever.
Before I change my mind and latch on, never letting go.
"This is probably going to come as a surprise"
Palms cradling her swollen belly, thumbs stroking invisible lines. Soothing either herself or the child growing inside.
Her news was met with silence. Only a heavy exhale ruptured my indifference. Shuddering, it was the sole sound that made her move to hug me.
Step backwards. Don't get hurt.
Then, a bang of a door flying open. His voice interrupted the introduction between the living, breathing sister and the non-existent sibling. She staggered, fear eradicating the regret shimmering in her eyes. It consolidated her decision and the sacrifices she had made. She had made the right decision to be free of that fear for six months. However, in the act of liberation, someone had to take her place.
"Please, take this"
A pastel yellow piece of paper, soft from how many times it had been crumpled, was shoved into my hands.
"Hide it, Sierra"
And I did.
Strong arms chained themselves around mine, imprisoning me. The door slammed. Her cries were muffled. Pleas to see Zack silenced. The banishment was complete. But I had hid the paper. With this piece of paper, her writing, she would never leave my side.
"Sierra!"
With a sharp inhale, I found myself hovering near the desk where I stored all my cassettes. Zack's shrill, excited voice pervaded my thoughts and I had no choice but to rip myself away from seeing her again. My fingers were clenched around the brass drawer handle, stroking the rustic patterns. Beyond the happiness of my favorite songs was my sorrowful secret. The pastel piece of paper, still folded into four, never opened. Every now and then, I would run my fingers over the outlines of her writing. Black ink, traditionally cursive. A talent she had passed onto me. Now, I could hardly look at it. Temptation was there, but so was the grief and hurt. All it would take was a hard lump to form in my throat and it was thrown back into the drawer, concealed by distractions. At least 10 cassettes hid it from view.
"Sierra, look! I've broken the spaghetti just right!" Zack's voice grew closer and soon he came rushing into the room, a trail of broken spaghetti pieces following him.
I closed the drawer.
It would be a long time until I would come here again.
Instead, I would enjoy the moments she had given up. She would never praise Zack for breaking spaghetti perfectly, never recall this memory when we would sit over dinner with his partner and laugh at how he covered his face in embarrassment before joining in with the merriment. Because she would never have these moments with Zack. No, she would still relish in the laughter, the nostalgia. But it wouldn't be with us.
"Oh wow, look at that!" I exclaimed and bent down to examine them. "Perfection!"
"Not yet" Zack muttered and walked away, beckoning me to follow. He was chuntering away to himself about something. The only key words I could pick up on were 'not eating hard spaghetti', meaning this wouldn't be perfection until it was cooked. "When will you let me boil the water?"
"When you're old enough not to stick your fingers in it" I replied and started boiling the water, holding my hand out for the spaghetti. Zack was at that age where everything fascinated him. Once retrieved, I put it in the pot and, as expected, was met with Zack holding his arms up. I picked him up and giggled at how he marveled at the small bubbles of water forming on the bottom of the pot. "So, what questions do you have for me today, Einstein?"
"How does liquid turn into bubbles?" he inquisitively asked, squirming around in my arms to get a closer view of the water. I stepped back a little, making sure he couldn't get too close.
"Because, like you, liquid can get real energetic and move around really fast. So, when it reaches a certain temperature, it does this and turns into gas" I explained. He shot me a bemused look in response.
"Like, fart gas?" he gasped and furrowed his small brow together. "Ewww, fart spaghetti!"
"No, no, not like that!" I chuckled and elaborated on all the relevant chemistry behind water boiling.
"Ohhh, I get it now" he paused and started squealing when the water reached its boiling point, clapping his hands together. "Look at it go! The spaghetti's dancing!"
I laughed at how curious he was about everything, how excited he would get over these little things. The kid was smart and like me, could spend hours looking into these small and seemingly irrelevant details, trying to extract meaning.
"Hey, Zack, can I ask you a question about dinosaurs?" I asked. It needn't have been an actual question. By the thrilled twinkle in his eyes, it was an immediate yes. "Did dinosaurs grow really quickly? Like, in front of your eyes quickly?"
"Hmm," he pondered over the question for a moment, delving into the part of his brain reserved purely for dinosaur facts. "Really big ones did"
"How big are we talking?" The image of whatever creature 'Dart' was flickered in my mind like a crackling movie playing on a roll of film. Warbling chitters invaded my ears and an uninvited shudder trickled over my shoulders.
"Sauropods could grow 30lbs a day" I tried to equate that to something I could mentally envision. 30lbs would be at least over 15 boxes of spaghetti. 'Dart' hadn't exactly gone up 30lbs in front of me, but he had gone up enough for it to be noticeable. What if Dustin had discovered some kind of dinosaur? A creature rising from extinction, but was it here to go all Godzilla or was it a non-violent one simply here to roam around in the grass? "Anyway, I should learn some other things"
This had surprised me. For at least a year, dinosaurs had been at the forefront of Zack's mind. A fascination so intense he had to have visual reminders of how committed he was to learning about them all around his bedroom.
"Daddy said there was more to learn about than dinosaurs"
My blood was like the pot of spaghetti right now - furiously bubbling away and leaving a searing pain.
"But, you like dinosaurs right?" He nodded shyly, fidgeting with his thumbs. "Then, you can learn about dinosaurs as much as you want to"
"Daddy said I should learn about football and wants to watch Superbowl with me" he murmured, fixating on his nails. "I don't know what Superbowl is"
"But you know what a sauropod is, right?"
"Yes" he stated in a matter-of-fact tone. "Big dinosaurs with long necks and tails. They wouldn't like spaghetti and meatballs"
"Well, we won't invite them round for dinner tonight then, huh?" I joked and he let a small smile creep onto his lips. "If you really love dinosaurs, then you should be able to keep loving them"
"I don't like football. Michael Carver pushes me over when we play at barbecues" he muttered and I felt my arms tighten around him in this protective squeeze. "And Daddy tells me to 'man up' because it hurts"
I always detested that saying and it was one Dad would use on a frequent basis. Considering how most of his remarks were bigoted, this didn't exactly surprise me. Nevertheless, it made the hairs on my neck stand up and protest in a defiant, seething rage.
"You don't have to play football if you don't want to, Zack"
I looked at him earnestly in his eyes, identical to mine, but not yet touched by jaded experiences. He was close though, and it was exactly for this reason why I had to stay in Hawkins. College was just a pipeline dream. I just needed to actually admit it to myself. Zack couldn't be morphed into my Dad. Not when he had so much good in him. Sadness poured over me. A goodbye to one dream meant I could pursue another, and that was ensuring this small, curious kid couldn't be ruined by the corruption his father so loved.
"So, I can read my dinosaur books?" he asked, hopeful big eyes staring up at me, imploring to bask in the happiness of his favorite hobby.
"Yes, of course! But," I paused, tilting my head to gesture to the tray of meatballs we had made earlier on the counter. "We gotta put these bad boys in first so we can eat"
He giggled and after a moment of consideration, wrapped his tiny arms around my neck in a cuddle.
"I'm going to call my new T-rex teddy Sierra" he whispered. I chuckled and thanked him. One would have seen this and instantly gone, 'Oh gee, thanks' in a sarcastic tone. T-Rex's weren't the most nicest looking creatures, but he loved them and had chosen to name something he adored after me. It was adorable. "But first!" Zack snapped himself up and wriggled, trying to get down onto the floor "We gotta cook these bad boys!" he repeated eagerly.
So, we did just that. Once this task was complete, Zack and I tidied up the kitchen together and he scampered into the conservatory to read whatever dinosaur book he wanted, all the while singing in a cheerful tune 'Dinosaurs, dinosaurs, dinosaurs'. Peering over my shoulder as I dried up the pots and pans, I smiled as I saw him invested in the book he had chosen, lying flat on the floor, hand in hands and eyes immersed in this world he adored.
A knock at the door took me away from this sweet moment. Raising a confused brow, I wondered who could have been knocking. Zack was due to go to my grandparents this evening after dinner, but one glance at the clock told me he had an hour to go until he was picked up. I had called them when we got home, profusely apologizing for how late notice this all was, but their son was on a date tonight and I desperately had to start writing out statements for college applications. As Nana said it was never a problem for her, I could hear a delighted giggle escape her throat. She was baking a fresh batch of cookies so it was great timing and Grandpa wasn't watching Twilight Zone tonight so it was perfect. However, whilst they believed I was going to be up until the early hours slaving over application after application, I was going to be entering my own Twilight Zone episode. I had to find out what was going on with Nancy and Jonathan, wherever the hell they were. Phone calls were proving themselves to be futile so I had very little option but to try another method. I was still trying to figure out what that would be, but on a very conscious level I was starting to connect the dots. A potential demonic entity inside of Will, Jonathan and Nancy's abrupt absence and Dustin discovering what could be a new species were too many coincidences. It sounded like a good basis for a successful TV show. Instead, it was actually a reality. Something seriously strange was going on and I wanted to get to the bottom of it.
Another knock at the door. Who the hell was here? If it was Dad, he would have just barged in. But, he was on a date with some woman tonight at the seafood restaurant downtown and wouldn't be back until the early hours, I could imagine. Or, he and his date would rent his favorite room at the motel off of Cornwallis and I wouldn't see him until tomorrow evening. Perhaps even a couple of days which would be blissful. As I opened the door, I was immediately hit by a woody and sweet scent mixed with smoke. Before I could see him, I knew it was Billy. However, my mental image of him in tight jeans, shirt unbuttoned and a cigarette balanced on his lower lip wasn't exactly dashed when I saw him. It was even better. Standing there, leaned against the frame, in a red shirt, first three buttons left open so I only got a taste of the rest of him, an ink black leather jacket and no cigarette to be seen. Instead, he had a bouquet of roses tucked in his arm.
"Are those for me?" I asked in my stupor, regretting it straight away. Inwardly, I slapped my forehead.
"Nope, they just match my shirt" Billy chuckled and winked. "Of course they're for you, Nightingale" He stretched out his arm to pass me the beautiful flowers, the scent creating a fuzzy sensation in my stomach. I moved forwards, breathing it in and tried to squash the little squeal I felt pushing against the inside of my mouth. I loved roses! "You know, as a thank you for picking Max up today"
I wafted my hand in an attempt to act casual about how Billy Hargrove, this notoriously rebellious guy, had turned up at my door with a bouquet of red roses in what was possibly the most romantic gesture I had ever received from anyone.
"You grow more interesting by the day, Hargrove" I said with an air of blase intrigue and accepted the flowers, smelling them again as I hid my grin.
"You're not doing a good job at hiding that smile, you know" he chuckled again. As he took the roses out of my hands, he leaned forwards and kissed me. I allowed myself to luxuriate in the fuzzy feeling as it strengthened, spreading all over me. My eyes slipped to a close as he deepened the kiss, feeling his warm breath tickle my nose.
"Gross!" Zack exclaimed from behind us, pretending to vomit. However, as soon as he saw Billy, he instantly changed him demeanor to something more serious. "Do the voice"
"Zack…" I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose in slight exasperation. He was obsessed with Billy's impressions now and I was reprimanded earlier for not doing it quite as well.
"He gotta do the voice, or…" Zack giggled wickedly, scheming away "he can't do that ever, ever again"
Billy let out a jokingly heavy sigh and passed back the bouquet, winking at me. Entering the house, he stood in front of Zack and folded his arms, raising an eyebrow. However, it wasn't long before a grin broke out on his lips.
"Grr, those doughnuts!" He dove forwards, throwing a cackling Zack over his shoulder. "So, can I give your sister a kiss again now, kid?" Peering back to see Zack who was in fits of laughter, scrambling around, he caught a glimpse of me and smirked. "Alright, where am I putting you?"
"The floor!" Zack laughed, kicking around his feet.
"The pool? You sure?" Billy joked as Zack tried to object through his breathless laughter. "Well, if you insist, kid!" He went to move towards the door. Zack squealed joyfully and tried to tickle Billy, but instead found that Billy was too quick for him. I covered my own smile with a hand, trying to hide how entertaining this all was. "Alright, the floor it is" He placed Zack, who was dizzy with happiness, on the floor and crouched down to be equal with him. "Truce?"
In a business-like fashion, Billy and Zack shook hands and nodded at each other in acknowledgement that the game was finished now.
"Your handshake has improved!" Zack gasped and sagely rewarded him with another big nod. "I approve"
"Great! Can I help your sister put her flowers somewhere now?" he asked and they both looked up at me as I giggled away like a little kid.
"She looks real happy so yes you can" Zack scampered over to me and tugged at my orange, Hawkins High gym shorts. "Can Billy stay for meatballs and spaghetti?" He turned to Billy who was standing with his arms folded across his chest and classic smirk spreading upwards. "I broke the pieces of spaghetti, Billy!"
"Impressive, kid" Billy chuckled and suavely walked across to meet me, fingers caressing the red rose petals. "So, can I help you out with the flowers?" He looked up at me, his blue eyes gleaming audaciously.
"Is that codeword for something?" I laughed, also touching the petals with him.
Coyly, his fingertips brushed over mine, playing around with them for a moment until they brushed gingerly over the emerald ring on my index finger. It was my Mom's, passed down through three generations of women. History was in this ring, and as he stroked it, Billy was becoming part of my own.
"You can interpret that however you want to, Nightingale" he breathed coolly, biting his bottom lip. "I'm happy to oblige"
Zack had gone into the kitchen at this point and we leaned in, our lips inches away.
"Meatballs are done!"
Of course, Zack really knew how to make an entrance.
"Do you want to stay for dinner?" I asked Billy who smiled gratefully as a response.
"Sounds good, I'm pretty hungry" he replied and peered over his shoulder upon hearing the clinking of cutlery in the kitchen. Zack's big job at dinner time was to put out the knives and forks. "I can wait for dessert" He quickly kissed me and winked before sauntering off into the kitchen. Such a damn tease.
I stood there for a moment, internalizing how goddamn excited I was to have Billy here. It was like I was stuck in this heavenly trance. Any anxiety I had experienced at the prospect of entering the Twilight Zone again dwindled, replaced by the glittering magic as it softly flowed over me. Billy ignited this curiosity within me. How could he be so suave and suddenly turn up at my door with red roses? Brazenly flirt with any innuendo that came to his mind and then light a cigarette for me? Make me blush and then kiss me with a gentleness I had yet to acquaint myself with? I was in awe over how he could exhibit so many dichotomies, so many sides to his personality. The little squeal that had been pushing against my lips finally made its quiet escape. I skipped merrily into the kitchen where Zack was giving Billy a lesson on how to set up cutlery as if he wasn't educating a virtual adult on how to do the most basic of things. Even still, Billy took it in his stride and appeared to be listening intently.
Zack invited Billy to sit at the head of the table, telling him it was usually his seat, underlining how he would only give that seat to people he liked. Billy graciously thanked him and I felt him watching as Zack and I served up the food - me dishing out the spaghetti and Zack plopping the meatballs on the plate. Billy thanked me as I placed the food in front of him and kissed my cheek. We ate together, talking about all sorts of things like what Zack had done at school. The kid felt loved and as his chubby cheeks grew closer and closer to his eyes, the more he felt like this was a home. A complete home. Billy indulged in Zack's various passions and once we had finished eating, helped Zack to wash the plates, even putting out his little stool so Zack could reach. When Zack blew soapy bubbles at him, Billy blew them straight back, much to his delight. All the while, I watched on with an aching smile on my lips. It was beyond cute and so unexpected. Billy never seemed to be the kind of guy who was good with kids, but here he was, engaged in a bubble battle with my little brother who couldn't get enough of this.
Soon enough, a dainty knock at the door signaled how it was time for Zack to go for a trip to my grandparents house. We shared all the usual formalities before they left. I stayed leaning against the door frame, waving goodbye until the car was out of view, and felt a pair of strong arms enveloping around my waist.
"So, about those flowers?" Billy murmured as he nestled in my dark curls, sending electric thrills up my body as he delicately kissed my neck.
Giggling, I closed the door and brushed my fingers against his as they softly guided me by the waist to turn around. The coolness of the winter air contrasted with my hot skin as Billy's fingers traced the curve between my hip and rib cage, running over the bones until they found my lips. Running his thumb over my plump bottom lip, he let out a low chuckle as the back of his hand moved across my red cheeks.
"Dinner was great, by the way" he whispered between deep kisses. Hovering his lips above mine, he brushed his nose against my ear, ready to say something that would bring me to the tips of my toes. "I'm still hungry though"
"God, Hargrove, that was so cliche of you" I giggled and he playfully rolled his eyes at me. He was so irresistibly tempting even with the overused insinuation. Jutting a lower lip out, he teasingly winked at me as his pout turned into a smirk. "I'll meet you upstairs?"
His eyes suddenly sparkled with this animation I had only seen a fragment of whenever he made a flirtatious remark.
"You sure?" he asked, a nervousness I had never heard rising in his throat.
"Are you?" I replied, my own skittish energy matching his. He nodded and bit his bottom lip, smiling down at me. "It's the first room on the right"
"Alright, cool" he breathed and began fumbling with his hands. Shameless, devil-may-care Billy wasn't here for this. Instead, sensitivity had taken its place and we became just a couple of awkward, shy teenagers. "I, er, gotta head to the bathroom first"
"Oh! Yeah sure, there's one in my bedroom" I clicked my tongue, cringing to correct my mistake. "I mean, like an en-suite. I just want to get myself some water from the kitchen before I come up. Do you want some?"
"Right, got it. En-suite" he repeated before casually jogging up the stairs, trying to conceal this side he was showing me. He paused, realizing I had asked him something else. "Water would be good!" he called at the top of the stairs.
I heard his footsteps creak against the floorboards and the bathroom door close with a bang followed by a muted, 'Oh shit' at how loud it had been. A small smile spread across my lips and I shuffled in my feet a little before going to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water from the tap, gulping it down. I hadn't done anything since Austin. How did I feel about this? Sure, I was excited, but also was this a little rushed? I hadn't known him very long in the grand scheme of things, but I was definitely attracted to him. There was a definite flutter in my stomach whenever I thought about him, whenever I saw him.
Was this all he was here for?
I shook my head, pouring myself another glass of water. After essentially throwing the water down my throat, I purposefully let the still running tap water trickle over my hand so I could brush it across the thin film of sweat forming on my forehead. I could stop whenever I wanted to. Surely he would respect that? Perhaps we could talk about it before anything actually happened. He seemed just as nervous as I did, after all.
I heard slow footsteps behind me. Shit, I had forgotten I was meant to get him a glass of water. Turning around, I froze.
It wasn't Billy.
Face flushed with fury, nostrils flaring, fists clenched.
I was in trouble.
Trapped in my discomfort, a flash of pain sprinted up my legs and I was suddenly chained to the floor.
For longer than I was used to, we stood in silence. Him, glaring at me. Me, wondering what the hell had happened.
"Eventful day, kid?"
The realization dawned on me. He had found out. The cheerleading team.
I had quit.
Biting the inside of my inner lip, I said nothing. What could I say that wouldn't stoke at the obvious fire burning inside of him?
"I said, eventful day, kid?" he repeated, threateningly enunciating every word he had asked previously. He didn't like to repeat himself.
"Yeah, I guess" There was no use acknowledging it. In fact, there was no use talking in the first place. He already knew.
"I gathered. You see," he paused for a moment, advancing towards his whiskey cabinet. With one finger, he beckoned for a glass. Obligingly, I got him one. He snatched it from me and poured himself a drink. No ice. Just neat. Shit, I really was going to be in trouble. "I was at that nice little seafood restaurant. You know, the one that just opened downtown?" He stopped talking for a moment, as if waiting for a confirmation that I knew where he was talking about. However, he expected no reply. He didn't want one. "So, just as we were finishing off our drinks, about to go to the motel for the night, get to know this lovely lady who had graciously come out just for me, guess what happened, Sierra?" He downed the drink. Again, no response was needed. Like before, he didn't want one. "Harold Hamilton ran into me and before I could even so much as shake the man's hand, he tells me how you not only quit the cheerleading team, but you - my daughter," He spat those words out. Half treating his sole connection to me as if I were property, half out of disgust. "My goddamn daughter, humiliated his kid in front of the whole team during the process"
The same menacing silence fell over us again. I couldn't even hear my own breathing as it yearned to fight against the rapid heart rate I had.
"You know, the same Harold Hamilton who generously extended an invitation to his yacht party after the football game so we could get a contract written up? Or, did you forget that when you decided to embarrass his child?" I stuck to the usual routine - no response. "Fucking answer me!"
I opened my mouth, ready with my weak defense.
I just wanted to be happy, Dad, and I wanted to defend my friends.
"You may be doing AP English, kid, but you can be so fucking stupid sometimes" He poured another drink, shooting it back. Still no ice. "Being a cheerleader in high school means you're on the right track, get the right connections, meet the right people. You wanna be a book nerd, huh? Where do you think the nerds are going to get in life? I'll tell you - sat at a desk job with little money, watching the cheerleaders and guys on the football team as they can live like how we live" He really meant how he lived. I didn't want this life. The one where he would flaunt the money, buy me a new car when he decided to inflict violence and terror. I wanted peace. "How embarrassed do you think I'll be if you have no prospects, Sierra?" Another glass of whisky. Shot back. Swallowed. No ice. "You think getting stuck in your fairytale books will get you anywhere in life? No, people get you places. The right damn people" Shoot it back, slam it on the table. "And now," One more shot. "You don't fucking have any!"
The glass thunderously shattered behind my head. As I turned to stare at it, breathless, he launched at me.
"You stupid fucking girl!" A slap to the face. Fingers clutching the neck of my shirt. "You're just like your mother" He fell back panting against the table, trying to regain his strength.
Here went nothing. If I was going to make any changes, be the person I wanted to be, I had to start here. I inhaled deeply, staring at him as he staggered backwards.
"You say that like it's a bad thing"
Wordlessly, his bloodshot eyes looked up at me. I had defied him.
Swallowing, I had two choices. Fight or fly.
Run from the punishment or face it knowing he had no choice but to hear my words.
"I would rather be like her than the piece of shit you are"
And now, here came the punishment. I couldn't even feel the pain as his fist collided with my nose. All I could feel was the wet blood trickling down my lips. Everything became a blur. My senses were distorted from the force of his punch. Distorted, I could hear a shout. Eyes shut tight, I embraced the darkness as it lulled me out of this place for just a little. Wobbling on my feet. Like a dance almost. I could see her green eyes, raven curls. Hot tears drowned my eyes. I didn't want to be her.
I just wanted her.
The next thing I heard was the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. When I opened my eyes, he was lying there. Sparked out. No movement.
But there was a shadow cast over his limp body. My eyes moved upwards and I stumbled forwards towards the person who was wrapping me in a haven. Far away from here. Anywhere but here.
Breathing heavily above Dad, arms taking me in, was Billy.