Steve woke up slowly, and was disorientated as his eyes opened and he was staring down at unfamiliar blue sheets. He glanced around and spotted a bedside table made out of mahogany and then blinked a couple of times as he realized where he was—back in his childhood bedroom. He took in a deep breath as he rolled over and was met with an empty bed, and when Steve reached out and touched the bed, it was cold, so it was obvious that Billy had been up for a while. Steve rolled back over and fumbled for his phone, looking at the time and seeing that it was only just after eight in the morning, the time he was at work most days. Steve rolled out of bed, pulling his phone off the charger and picking up a shirt that was half out of one of their bags that was tossed on the floor and pulled it on before leaving the bedroom.

It was overcast outside, but Billy was still outside, by the pool, not wearing a shirt, only in a pair of sweatpants that looked a little tight over his thighs so were probably Steve's, and he was smoking. Billy smoked, still, just like Steve did, although nowhere near as much as he had back in their last year of high school and the few years after, but there were a few cigarettes stubbed out in the concrete next to him, so it looked as though he had already smoked his way through a few.

"Hey," Steve said quietly as he walked over to Billy. The air was colder here, and Steve couldn't help but shiver. He had grown up in Indiana and spent the first eighteen years of his life there, but after living in Los Angeles for the past few years, his body had adapted and he wasn't as used to the colder weather anymore.

"Come here," Billy murmured, holding out his arm and Steve walked over, sitting down next to Billy and folding his legs rather than putting them in the water like Billy was. The blonde put his arm around Steve, and Steve leaned against Billy, taking in a deep breath through his nose as he looked at the ripples on top of the water. Billy had obviously wound back the cover, and Steve was surprised that it was full. But then again, there had always been maids and gardeners, so obviously Steve's parents had decided to keep the pool full. "Want?" Billy held out the cigarette and Steve took it, propping it between his lips and taking in a deep breath. When he looked up at Billy, Billy was looking away, chewing down on the corner of his bottom lip.

"You okay?" Steve asked as he handed the cigarette back and blew the smoke out through pursed lips. Billy shrugged a shoulder as he scratched the side of his nose and took the cigarette back. "You, uh, you know what time we're going over to Max's?" Before they had left Joyce's last night, Max had asked Billy to come over and see her and Susan the following day. Billy had clenched his teeth together and it looked as though he had wanted to say no, but Steve had been surprised when he had jerked his head in a nod. They hadn't talked about it as they had driven home, or as they had shared a quick shower before getting into Steve's childhood bed, but given that it was today that they were meant to be going over, he guessed they should probably talk.

"Max sent me a few messages after she got back to the house last night," Billy replied, his tone nuetral but his fingers pressing in firmly against Steve's bicep. "Her and Susan are going to meet the funeral director at one for some final details before the funeral tomorrow, so before then." Steve chewed down on his bottom lip before speaking up, careful to keep his voice even.

"You don't want to go to the funeral home with them?" He asked.

"Nope," Billy shook his head firmly and Steve nodded. With everything that Billy had dealt with, Steve was just glad that he was closing the book on his father by coming to the funeral. He still didn't know everything that had gone on, but maybe once Billy was able to move on from that part of his life, he would open up to Steve about it, in his own time.

"You want to see if there's anything to eat here? Then head over?" Steve suggested, because he was thinking that maybe Billy needed something more in his system than just nicotine before facing the house he had spent time as a teenager, and the woman who had been married to his father for over ten years and who had stood by as he had been abused. Steve wasn't too sure what Billy's relationship with Susan was, but Billy had never really talked about her—just like he hadn't of his father or his own mother—so Steve didn't think she had done anything to help him in the time that she had spent with Billy.

"Yeah," Billy sighed, and he let his arm drop from around Steve's shoulders and pushed himself off the concrete, getting to his feet, holding out a hand to Steve. The taller man gripped it, and let Billy pull him to his feet, and then Steve was pulled even further, slightly off balance, so that Steve was pressed up against Billy's chest. "Thanks for coming back with me."

"Billy, it's fine, you already said—"

"I'm serious, Stevie," Billy pressed his lips together for a moment before lifting one hand and gently touching his fingers to Steve's forehead, brushing the fingers down the side of his face. "I wouldn't have come back if you weren't here with me." Steve really wasn't sure what to say, so he just gave Billy a soft kiss on the mouth. Billy returned the pressure, calloused fingertips still pressed against Steve's cheek. "Come on, let's go see if there's any food."

In the end, there hadn't been much food in the house, and so the two men had driven to a diner that Steve used to go to every week when he had lived in Hawkins to get something to eat. All of the wait staff were different, given that they had always been students from the school, but there was a one of the cooks in the back who recognised Steve and called out to him with a smile. Billy didn't say much, and Steve had to carry most of the conversation so that they didn't fall into awkward silence, and on the opposite side of the booth, Billy's shoulders were starting to curve inwards, as though he was trying to curl in on himself. Steve slid his foot under the table, reaching out and finding Billy's, pressing it against Billy's ankle, and Billy looked over at Steve with a small, sad smile.

"Did you...Want to tell me about your dad?" Steve asked once he had finished his waffles and pushed the sticky plate to the side, his coffee cup now cupped in his hands in front of him.

"Not much to tell, guy was a prick," Billy replied, the smile dropping from his face instantly. Steve nodded slowly, taking a sip of his coffee, and Billy shoved the rest of his bagel into his mouth before picking up his phone and tapping away. "Okay, I told Max we're on our way. You almost done?" Steve drank the rest of his coffee a bit too fast, and his tongue burned, but he nodded and was then getting out of the booth with Billy. When they got to the rental car, Billy held out his hand and Steve tossed him keys and got into the passenger side.

He knew that Billy took the long way to the house he had lived in.

Steve had only been there a few times before—probably three or four times all up. He couldn't quite remember, but he was pretty sure it was around the time that he and Nancy were in the process of breaking up but still actually together, and he was helping her with taking her brother's friends home. Although, admittedly, he then carted the kids around a lot more after they had broken up, because it had turned out that he really liked the brats, but generally Max would skateboard home. Or Billy would pick her up, so Steve had only ever been out a few times when it had been dark and he didn't want her to skate home, and she couldn't organise a ride home with her brother.

So he knew that Billy pretty much circled the entire town, taking side roads and back roads, and taking nearly half an hour to get to the house, when it really should have only taken ten minutes at the most from the diner in the middle of town.

He didn't say anything, though, because he knew that it was a big step for Billy, so he let him take as much time as he needed, just playing quietly on his phone.

When they pulled up outside the house finally, Billy took in a harsh breath through his teeth as he turned off the engine of the car and jerked the keys out of the ignition. The car went completely silent, other than Billy's deep breaths, and Steve sucked on his bottom lip as he looked over at Billy, not even moving to take off his seatbelt just yet. Billy stared at the house over the steering wheel, swallowing hard enough that Steve heard the click of the convulsion of his throat, and the brunette was chewing so hard on his bottom lip that he wouldn't have been surprised if he tasted blood. Steve looked toward the house, and honestly—it just looked like a house. There was nothing special about it, and that made things worse. Because Billy was strong and brave and Steve had never really encountered anything that had thrown him.

Except his father.

Max appeared at the front door, pushing it open as she looked out at the car, and Steve noticed that she was still wearing her pyjamas. He looked back at Billy, and tipped his head to the side, hair flopping with the movement.

"Are you ready to go in?" Steve asked softly and Billy sighed heavily before nodding. Steve reached for the buckle of his seatbelt, and then Billy was leaning into his space and their mouths were coming together. Steve returned the kiss, one hand coming up to touch Billy's chest, hoping that he was providing at least half of the comfort that Billy gave to him when he was in a bad place. When Billy pulled back, he immediately shoved open his door and got out and Steve finished unbuckling his belt and followed, getting out of the car and then slowly walking up to the house, a few steps behind Billy. Max stepped inside, holding the door open for them, and Billy's whole body was tense and his foot faltered as he stepped over the threshold and into the house, and Steve stopped behind him, letting him take his time.

There was an overpowering smell of flowers that came from inside, and it was a tacky sort of smell, like the section of the grocery store where all the cheap bundles were, the type that Steve's mother would never allow into the house. Undoubtedly they had been seen by well-wishers, but they made Steve's nose wrinkle up as he stood at the open door.

"Billy," Max huffed a little, but she didn't look impatient, her eyes were soft, which was pretty unusual for her, especially where Billy was involved.

"Yeah, yeah," Billy muttered and he seemed to square up his shoulders before he stalked forward, into the house. Max met Steve's eyes with hers and she gave him an undecipherable look before following Billy, and Steve trailed after them, unable to stop himself from glancing around. There were some pictures on the walls—of Susan and Neil on their wedding day, of a family get together, of Max forcing a smile in a pink dress that she would never choose to put on. There were some tacky paintings on the wall as well, the kind of cheap ones that were generally found in roadside hotels, and as they got into the lounge, there was another photo on the wall. It was a bigger one, also from Susan and Neil's wedding, a family photo, and it was the first one Steve had seen that Billy was in.

He was in the back, hair cut short and curls non-existent, wearing a suit and a button up that was buttoned all the way up to his throat, and even in the back of the photo with two older men obscuring him a little from the view of the camera, Steve could see that Billy had a red mark on his bottom lip.

Kind of like he had a split lip.

He looked over at Billy, who was watching him and knew what he was looking at, and he wanted to say something, but then Susan was coming through the door, eyes flicking nervously between Max, Billy and Steve. Steve had never properly met Susan, although he had seen her a few times around Hawkins, but she looked...She looked different from what he had seen a few years ago. Even from the few photos on Max's Facebook and Instagram, although those were all taken with artful filters, and she had just lost her husband, so Steve tried not to be too critical.

But she looked unhealthily skinny, and there was a horrible pallor to her cheeks, and the clothes that she was wearing hung off her body in a way that was clearly done because she wanted to hide herself. And there was a brace on one hand and a scar on her jaw that looked reasonably new.

Billy was clearly noticing all of this as well as he looked at Susan, and Max's lips were pressed firmly together.

"Susan," Billy's voice sounded almost choked as he took a step closer to the older woman. She took in a deep breath as she looked at him and Max reached out to take her mothers hand, gripping it tightly. Steve looked between the three of them, feeling as though he was intruding on a family moment, and he tried to take a subtle step back, removing himself from the situation. "Did he...Did dad..." he drifted off as his hand lifted, fingers gentle as they indicated the scar on her jaw, that was still pink and puckered. It hadn't started fading yet, or turning the shining silver, so it could only have been there for a month or two. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Susan's voice was venomous and strong, seemingly completely out of place coming out of her frail body, and Steve was strongly reminded of Joyce. "Nothing." Billy's hand fell back to his side, and Max's hand seemed to tighten even more around her mothers. Steve took in a deep breath as he realized what was sinking in around the small family, and he felt tears spring to the back of eyes.

"I'm just gonna—I'm gonna get some fresh air," Steve mumbled, not able to be in this room any longer. He turned around and quickly left, stumbling into the wall and smacking his shoulder against the door frame as he walked into the hallway, straightening himself out before making it to the front door. The cool air hit his cheeks, which suddenly felt a lot warmer than they had when they had walked into the house, and before he was even really thinking, he was reaching for his wallet in his back pocket and jerking it open, going for the two little pills that he kept in the zipped pocket for times like these, when he suddenly felt overwhelmed and on the brink of an anxiety attack.

He swallowed one of the pills dry, and they could take up to twenty minutes to really start having any time of effect, but he knew it was also a bit of a psychological response when his breathing automatically started slowing down. He took a few steps down the front steps of the house before sitting down hard and resting his elbows on his knees.

He knew that Neil abused Billy.

He knew that.

Billy had never explicitly told him that, Max had never told him that, but it had been implied plenty of times and when Steve had been in high school, there had been lots of rumours that had gone around about Billy. He would come in with bruises and scrapes and he would always have this hard, brittle laugh and say that he got into fights—which people would believe because Billy did have a tendency to get into fights—but there was just this frequency at which he got the wounds that was different. He remembered Nancy had made a comment about it not long after Billy had first moved to Hawkins, when Billy had been called out of a class to see the counsellor, but Billy and Steve had never been on good terms in high school, so it had never been something that he had thought about too often.

Afterwards, once they connected as adults and struck up a friendship which had now graduated into something of a relationship, Steve had picked up on a few things about Neil and Billy's mother, but not much, and he knew it was a touchy subject, so he never pushed it. Billy had mentioned once that his mother had been gone since he was eight, and that she had been the one who had taught him how to surf, and Steve's heart had hurt that Billy had lost the one parent that cared about him. He didn't know how she had died, but he knew that it didn't take Neil long to move on to Susan, and that had been a big cause of a bitterness between Max and Billy when they were younger, because Billy hadn't been ready for a new family to be moved into the space that was carved in his heart for his mother. Max had also made a few off-handed remarks about Neil, and it was clear from the way that the corner of Lucas' mouth got tight that he knew more—which made sense, since they had always been close—but they'd mainly been about her mother, and how she deserved better, how she could do better that being stuck in Hawkins with a loser like Neil who liked to wield his power over people smaller than him.

And now...Billy seemed to be thinking that it was his fault that Neil had used his fists against Susan.

Maybe he thought that because he had left, Neil had turned to the next person available to take his anger out on, which was Susan.

But that wasn't Billy's fault.

It was Neil's.

Not Billy's.

It never had been.

"Steve?" Max's voice was soft behind him and he twisted his head back to look up at the younger girl. She took in a deep breath and moved to sit next to him, a small space between them, and she pulled at the end of her braid, which was a mess, looking like she had slept in it. "Your nails need to be repainted," she commented and Steve made a sound in his throat of agreement as he looked down at them. Billy had made a similar comment yesterday, and they were both right. Before the funeral tomorrow, he was either going to need to take all the nail polish off or repaint them because the chipped polish was starting to look tacky. "Hey—thanks for coming out here with Billy. He wouldn't have come back if you hadn't come with me."

"You don't need to say thanks," Steve sighed. "You and Billy—you don't need to say thanks. Billy does a lot for me, and I never really know how to help him, so this is fine." Max's eyebrows pulled together as she looked at him, and it looked as though she had something else that she wanted to say, but then the door was opening again, and both Max and Steve turned around to Susan standing there, Billy a few steps behind her.

"I was going to make some tea," Susan said, her voice a little thin but determined. "Did you want tea?"

They stayed at the Hargrove residence until Max and Susan changed and left to go to the funeral home to confirm the final details with the director. Billy was still tense, his body was still wired, but he was clearly a bit more comfortable than when they had first gotten there and he was making an effort with Susan. When they left, Max hugged Billy firmly, and Billy leaned in and gave Susan a brief kiss on the cheek, on the side where the scar wasn't on her jaw, and then they left, Steve giving both of them a small smile even though usually he would probably give Max a one armed hug or something. Billy walked to the drivers side door, and Steve walked to the other side and they got in, and they didn't talk as they drove back to the Harrington home. Steve's phone vibrated as he was walking into his childhood home, and he pulled it out, to a message from Jonathan.

Hey, Stevie. I want to come to the funeral tomorrow. You know—as support. Do you think Billy would mind?

Steve wasn't sure when Jonathan had decided to come back to Hawkins, but he couldn't help but feel this huge sense of relief come over him, knowing that there was going to be someone else at the funeral who was there to support Billy. Jonathan and Billy didn't get on the best—although they got on better than Nancy and Billy did—but it was nothing like it was in high school. Jonathan and Nancy lived in Phoenix now, they'd started out in New York together, both studying there, and then Jonathan had gotten a job in Fresno for a short amount of time and they had done the long distance thing for a while, but it had been hard on them, especially since they had been together for so long and living close by each other for that whole time, so when she got the job in Phoenix, he'd quit his job and found one in Phoenix as well.

They didn't spend a lot of time in Los Angeles, but Steve was close with both of them, which a lot of people thought as odd, since Nancy and Steve had been an item for over a year in high school, and then she had left him for Jonathan, but...It was what it was. Back in school, some people—including Steve for a while—thought that Nancy had cheated on him with Jonathan, but she hadn't. Some people just gravitated toward each other naturally, and Jonathan and Nancy were good together, even if Steve hadn't wanted to admit that at first, and now they were engaged and a wedding was in their future and he was happy for them both. When he and Billy had first started hanging out, he had told Nancy during one of their Skype chats and she had been disbelieving and distrustful. Then the more they hung, the more on board Jonathan got, but Nancy was still very much stuck on the fact that back in high school, Billy had broken a plate over Steve's head and permanently scarred him. Now, it was years later, and they were living together, and Nancy had seemed to accept it, but she still wasn't happy about it, while Jonathan and Billy were Facebook friends and could carry a conversation on their own when they were all together.

I don't think so. I'll ask him, Steve sent back before shoving his phone back into his pocket and glanced around, looking for Billy.

"I'm gonna have a nap," Billy was calling over his shoulder as he headed up the stairs to Steve's room and Steve wondered how much sleep Billy had gotten last night, given how hard he found it sleep through the idea, even when he was sick or hungover. Steve stared up the stairs to the second floor for a few beats before pulling out his phone again.

Are you in Hawkins?

About half an hour out, Jonathan replied. I decided to just come anyway, even if Billy says no to me coming to the funeral.

Steve smiled at Jonathan's last message before replying.

Texting while driving? What would Hop say?

He's still trying to figure out who El got her first joint off. You want me to rat you out?

Steve couldn't help but snort when he got the text, because Hopper had gone absolutely crazy when he had smelt weed on El and Mike's breath for the first time, when they were seventeen. Technically, he had never given them any weed, because he had been in Los Angeles at the time and far away from Hawkins where all the brats were all still at school, but they did know about the little stash that he had in the of the set of drawers next to his bed. All the kids knew where the spare set of keys for his house were so that they could go over and use the pool, and he'd gotten a snapchat from El of her and Mike in his room with one of the rolled joints from his drawer and little kissing emojis.

He hadn't cared at the time, he had been younger than her when he had first smoked weed, but then he had found out how angry Hopper had been, and he had sworn the kids and Jonathan and Nancy to secrecy, never wanting to be on the wrong end of Hopper's temper.

Fuck you.

Anyway, come over.

Watch movies with me.

Where's your lover?

He's napping. And he's not my lover.

You guys are fucking. He's your lover.

Steve rolled his eyes and didn't bother replying because he'd invited Jonathan over, so it was up to him whether he came over or not. He walked into the lounge and flopped down on the expensive couch, pushing around some of the cushions that were uncomfortable and stiff and definitely only for decoration and picked up the remote from where it was underneath the coffee table and turned on the TV. It felt weird to not be at work on a Friday, and even weirder since Billy wasn't with him and that they were in fucking Hawkins, but he tried to push all of that aside and flicked through the channels to find something. Re-runs of Jeremy Kyle were on one of the channels so he left that on and slumped further down on the couch.

He tried not to think about Billy and Neil and Susan.

He tried not to think about what Billy went through.

He tried not to think about how hard Billy's life must have been.

He tried not to feel selfish, for taking so much from Billy, lapping up all the comfort that the blonde always seemed happy to give, when it was obvious that he needed support himself.

Jonathan showed up when the episode finished, knocking awkwardly at the front door even though if he had come to their apartment he would have just let himself right in. But Jonathan and Steve hadn't exactly been close in high school, so he had never actually come to Steve's house before, even though he knew where it was. Steve just shouted out for him to come in and Jonathan appeared in the lounge a few minutes later, one eyebrow arched as he looked around.

"I mean, I knew your folks were loaded, but this place is a little crazy," he commented and Steve just waved a hand. Jonathan kicked off his shoes and came into the lounge properly, flopping down onto one of the arm chairs. "Netflix? Nancy has been watching Good Girls without me, so she's finished season two while I'm only an episode in."

"I've finished season two, but I can go again," Steve shrugged and cast Netflix from his phone and looked for the series. Jonathan was quiet for a beat before talking again.

"I never took Billy as someone who naps," he remarked.

"He doesn't...Usually," Steve muttered. "I don't think he slept much last night." Jonathan nodded, and that was it. Jonathan didn't push at things, like Nancy did, and while Steve knew that Nancy did it out of love, sometimes things didn't need to be pushed, they just needed to settle and rest. They were halfway through their third episode when Billy came back down the stairs, no longer wearing a shirt, eyes a little blurry from sleep, and he was surprised to see Jonathan in the lounge, and then Steve realized that he hadn't mentioned that Jonathan was on his way.

"Jonny Boy," Billy nodded as he collapsed on the couch and practically hauled Steve against his side. Steve didn't mind the man-handling, and he let his head rest against Billy's chest once Billy had comfortably situated him. "What are you doing here? Visiting the 'rents?" Jonathan frowned as he looked over at Steve, and Steve made a face.

"Oh, uh," he tipped his head back to look up at Billy through his eyelashes. "Sorry, I meant to bring it up, but you headed up to go to sleep before I could. Jonathan's come back to go to the funeral with us. Okay?" It was phrased as a question, but it really wasn't one. Billy acted like he didn't need people to support him, but everyone did, and Jonathan had flown out from Fresno to show his support for Billy, just like Steve had done when he had come from Los Angeles. If Billy really didn't want Jonathan there, Steve didn't doubt he would say something, but he had a feeling it was more that he just didn't know how to ask.

"You...You came out here for the funeral? All this way?" Billy asked, his arms tightening around Steve and his voice sounding a little dry.

"Yeah," Jonathan replied, and Steve was so thankful for the way that he didn't look at Billy and act as though he didn't understand Billy's tone of disbelief. "Took Friday off work, I'll fly back Sunday morning." He looked over at them, at Billy, and gave him a small smile. "If that's all good." Billy blinked at him before clearing his throat and looking pointedly toward the TV.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's fine," he replied. "Thanks." Steve kissed Billy's collarbone and laid his head back down, focusing back on the show.