A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry it's taken me this long to post. As you can see, this chapter took a lot of time to write up. Just some trigger warnings: overt racism and mentions of self-harm as well. Firstly, I hope you enjoy reading and please leave a review letting me know what you thought!
~Sierra~
Cookies and milk. Isn't it amazing how much nostalgia a plate of chocolate chip cookies and ice cold milk can create? Dipping the cookie in the milk, long enough for a soft exterior and slight crumble, enough to stoke those nostalgic memories. It was my favorite part when I was a child, almost teasing myself as to whether it would crumble or not. As I stood at the kitchen counter, gently placing three cookies on a light green, ceramic paint, I let the memories flood my mind.
I saw her standing by the same kitchen counter, only 10 years earlier, bathed in the golden light typical of warm flashbacks. In this one, Mom was wearing a striped linen dress, a yellow hibiscus nestled in her raven, curly locks. The aroma of thyme and oregano wafted in the light breeze, mingling with oven-cooked chicken. She gave me a secretive wink and nudged the plate of cookies towards me. Our little secret, she had whispered. It was before dinner so, naturally, I usually wasn't allowed to eat anything sweet until I had finished my food. But that day was a special day - I had won a writing competition. A fable of two magical horses who were unalike in every way possible, but through a series of trials and tribulations, became the best of friends. Our secret was my reward. Giggling away, quietly so as not to reveal our secret, I ate all but one which I had saved for Mom. Tears glistened in her eyes. The shouting had begun mere hours before and he had left us to have herby chicken orzo together. We spent the night watching the elegant stars of the '50s on our TV and fell asleep, wrapped in a knitted blanket, on the couch.
My Grandpa had his own cookie jar. Each night, at 10:30pm on the dot, he'd pour himself a glass of milk and have a singular cookie. It had to be ones my Nana had baked though. None of the store bought stuff. I found it incredible. This man had fought in a war, worked his way up from a blue collar family who suffered during The Depression to a successful businessman, and survived three heart attacks in the process. A man made of steel, a man dictated by a stubborn and dying ethos, and a man who found comfort in a nightly ritual of one homemade cookie and a glass of milk. It was an oxymoron, two things that sounded absurd together. Whenever I'd see him smile upon the first bite, I couldn't help but to find it so sweet. It was like in that one moment, he'd transported himself back to a little boy about to go to sleep with an innocent enthusiasm for what the next day would bring. I wondered if Grandpa ever thought about that boy. If now he was dying, he yearned for the days where he wasn't ridden with an existential anxiety about whether there was a day he wouldn't wake up. Was it a comfort to know his suffering would end or was it a sad curse of our existence? I wondered if I would ponder over the exact same thing when my time would come.
Now, I was making the same for myself. A little comfort in the chaos. There was a picture of a missing kid on there. I used to think it was an odd place to put pictures of missing children. Why not cartons of orange juice or on a packet of chicken? Joshua Mularky from Upper Oak Street was the latest kid to go missing. He was last seen near The Communion, playing hide and seek with his friends. Shivers darted down my spine when I thought how only a few weeks back we were all at The Communion having the time of our lives after graduation and now it was a crime scene. Will, Barb, another kid who never reappeared, and now this Joshua kid. My mind was endlessly drawing equations and lines to link each equation up, musing with dread over Jonathan's prophetic words.
Inside my head, were four voices, four sentences, on replay.
Jonathan:
"You can't not see what's going on, Sierra".
The nurse:
"He has about two months"
The maid:
"There is no Rosa Nightingale living here"
Will Byers.
"I know what keeps you awake at night, Sierra".
The missing kid, my mother's hiding place, the Upside Down, that goddamn clock, Zack's wellbeing, and how none of us are immortal. All of these things kept me awake. It had been a day since I made that call and the sole glimmer of hope I'd had had diminished within an instant. It was like someone had thrown a bucket of water over me. The same jolt of shock stabbing my heart, the icy chill as the news splashed me in the face, and the feeling of standing there, humiliated. I'd been constantly chastising myself ever since. What had I been thinking? If she really wanted to come and see me, she would. She wrote a letter once. She could have fought. I felt impossibly alone in the situation. Alone among company. I hadn't told Billy about any of this. I walked back to the car with Nancy who was trying her best to console me, let out a few more tears, cleaned myself up, and then showed up at the pool where I fell asleep in the sun.
I was heading to Billy's place soon. His dad had finally wrangled Billy into having me over for lunch before he and Susan headed to go for a city break a few towns over. We were going to have a movie night indoors after dropping Max off at El and Hopper's place. His Dad didn't know I was staying over tonight. We were keeping this little secret under wraps since Neil had already reported to my Dad I was dating his son. That conversation hadn't exactly been the highlight of my day when he came to pick Zack up less than an hour ago. I'd been apprehensive as it was. I was obsessing over everything from my appearance to whether the bathroom smelt okay. Nervous shits were a thing, okay? I was up for 7am, baked some cookies to calm my nerves and so Grandpa would have something to smile at, and drove Nana to the hospital where we sat down with a surprisingly chirpy Grandpa. A man facing his own countdown was for the first time in his life incredibly cheerful at a Motley Crue song playing on the radio. Jesus, it was hilarious. A man who would rather set fire to his most prized possession than listening to rock music was suddenly exclaiming, "Gosh, I remember smokin' in the boys room. They could tell me I'd be suffering and I'd still do it if it meant being able to smoke up with the cutest teacher in school". Nana had been appalled and apologized profusely to the blushing nurses who immediately turned over the radio station to play some classics from the 50s. However, Grandpa was snickering away to himself, using the cookie I'd baked to hide his toothy grin.
"It must be the morphine" Nana had murmured as she walked me back to the car.
"Sure, Nana" I'd chirped back, knowing fully well it had sweet fuck all to do with morphine.
The man was high for sure, but not from drugs. Facing his own demise had made him high on life. If there was something to learn from all of this, it was if Grandpa could laugh in the face of death, I could laugh in the face of whatever was to come. Hence why I'd made myself the cookies and milk. I may not have a mom coming to rescue Zack and I, my Grandpa may be dying, but I could quietly laugh and give all of these issues a middle finger by simply enjoying a treat from childhood.
Dad had arrived just as I pulled up. He was twenty minutes early. The pessimistic realist in me believed this was to catch me off guard, a surprise tactic to really see me squirm. Everyone else's voices wagged their fingers and told me to grow up and realize his glowing transformation. The pessimistic realist prevailed. I reveled in the future to come when his facade would be foiled. He was wearing a short sleeved black shirt, khakis and socks with sandals, a pair of the latest Ray Bans covering his eyes. I clocked onto the sunglasses. Zack had dashed over into his arms and blurted out he still had a bag to pack because he'd been at a slumber party. "Not to worry, little man" Dad had said, ruffling his hair before popping him back onto the ground. After Zack had gone inside, Dad gestured for me to join him in the garden where we sat at opposite ends of a bench. He lit up a cigarette and took a lengthy, drawn breath.
"We're in the shade, you can take off the glasses now" I bluntly said.
To my surprise, there was no rebuttal. He took them off. Puffy eyes, tinged with purple, alerted me to the first sign I was right. Those puffy eyes were ones of a man who'd been on neat Jack Daniels until the early hours of the morning. He was fucking hungover.
"How have you been?" he asked, eyes flickering from the birds cawing on the roof to the blooming rose buds at the far end of the garden. Anything other than me.
"Fine" I curtly replied. "You?"
"Just swell, kid" he gruffly snorted with a slight chuckle. "Terre Haute is a joy" As much as I hated to admit it, I really did get my sense of sarcasm from him. "That reminds me, your boyfriend's parents are joining me and my lady for dinner tonight" My eyes widened and he snorted in response. Still the Grade A asshole I had suspected him of being. "Neil's a good friend. Of course he was going to tell me"
"You two should go bowling sometime" I murmured with disdain.
"Alright, John Bender, cool it" he chuckled. I rolled my eyes and slackened my back into the wood, trying to knead out the urge to grab my lighter. I wasn't in the mood to joke around with him. He may have persuaded everyone else he was a cool dad now, but I really wasn't going to fall for it. "Honest, kid, I've changed"
"The sunglasses and strong cologne aren't fooling me, so tell your reflection that. Alright, Anthony?" I spat out venomously and got up to leave.
I suddenly felt uneasy. He was an intruder here. Knowing I was 100% right turned into suspicion. Suspicion left room for an error. The error was the potential he was right. What if this was the moment I'd dreamed of for years? For the day he would become a dad and what if I was abandoning the notion for purely conceited reasons?
"And yours isn't fooling me either, Sierra"
I spun around, eyes narrowed. Perhaps I wasn't conceited. Perhaps, all along, I hadn't been cynical. Perhaps, I had been right all along. His voice was low, quiet. But it wasn't quiet enough to veil the same arrogant tone that had chastised me on each of those days I had been dreaming to hear love from.
"You're tired, kid. Maybe Zack should spend a few days with me, give you some help"
"Maybe you can piss off out of my life? That'll be a huge help"
Wordlessly, I started to walk away, but no. Anthony Nightingale was a stubborn bastard who would always have the last word.
"You're not helping yourself, you know. I understand you're tired. After all you're working so hard at your new job, but there is no need to be disrespectful to your father" I knew the bastard was so desperately hoping for a reaction. I'd already given him one. He wasn't getting another. "I don't think Nana or the judge will be happy to hear you've been rude"
Mentally, I forced myself to repress the seething anger striving to invade. Push it down. Just push it the fuck down. Repeating those mantras felt like a lifetime until we both snapped out of this silent feud and dutifully put on the happy masks as Zack joyfully skipped into the garden, carrying three of his favorite dinosaur toys. Secretly, I knew Dad was right. I wasn't helping myself by reacting with the resentful fury I had towards him. Reactions were going to lead to my worst fears coming true. No, the mask was going to stay. So, as Dad told Zack to put the toys back because he was going to get new ones, I smiled. When Zack went back upstairs and he tried to stoke the fire, I put on the mask, one that could withstand the flames of my anger. Last night I made a choice. I chose to relent, to stop being stubborn and to seek help. Just because the outcome wasn't what I wanted, it didn't remove the power my choice had. I had another choice here - to either fuel Anthony's power or fuel my own.
To give him reasons to win or reasons to lose.
I chose to fuel my own power.
I chose at that moment that I was going to kick Anthony Nightingale's ass and make sure his only option was to lose.
"I'd watch your back, kid. I'm not having you make me out to be some abusive psychopath. You'll see I've changed" he'd said in a low, foreboding voice, his clear blue eyes piercing into mine.
"I always watch my own back" I paused and assessed his reaction. There was a slight jerk in his eyebrow, a small stumble backwards. He was surprised, shocked even. Then, I smiled sweetly. A smile so sweet it could have the ability to make him blow chunks all over this garden. Most important, a smile conveying to him I would not sit down and shut the fuck up anymore. "But thank you for your concern" His eyes focused on the birds again. They were getting louder, more defiant. He couldn't look at me. "Perhaps you have changed"
And with that, I went upstairs to help Zack.
So, Dad took Zack and I was left to my own devices. Quietly celebrating this little victory, I blasted my favorite Prince song, Little Red Corvette, and swayed in time to the opening, mellow synthesizers. Cookie in hand, milk chugged down like an absolute Keg Queen, I jumped
"What have I got to lose?" Prince's suave voice sang out.
Doing my best Cabbage Patch and headbanging mash-up, I got lost in the music. Do a little booty shake here, a little shuffle there. Before I knew it, I was up on the couch with my invisible microphone. God, I couldn't remember the last time I'd had a house to myself. Tossing my hair around, I felt the long-lost feeling of invigoration take over me. Alone with my non-existent microphone and audience, the only thing I could call this was freedom. A seriously silly as fuck freedom. Any tension I had been holding was gone, vanquished by the rush of endorphins. Jesus, I was so liberated! Without thinking, my body was just moving on its own. It was a luxury - not thinking. Finally, not having my mind teeming with thoughts. Just me and the music.
"Well, well, well…" I heard a familiar gravely voice call out.
I let out what could only be called a particularly loud screech. Nearly falling off the couch, I spun around to see Billy standing there, watching on with amusement glittering in those piercing blue eyes. "You okay?" he chuckled, walking over with a smirk to steady me. "Nice milk mustache, Nightingale"
"Oh thanks, Hargrove!" I said sarcastically with a smirk, tracing my upper lip before smearing the milk on his face.
"You're so thoughtful, Princess" Billy laughed, returning the sarcasm.
"Only the best for you, of course!" I giggled and winked at him as I started to rearrange the pillows I'd managed to scuffle up.
After straightening the pillows up, I twisted around to see Billy gazing at me through his long lashes, the corner of his lopsided smirk forming a small dimple. There's a certain message in his clear blue eyes, one he'd said time and time again. Love, it was just pure love.
"Like something you see, Hargrove?" I giggled, suddenly transforming into the girl I was back in November when I first laid eyes on him. Trying not to let the lighter slip from my grasp or fall over from the sudden weakness in my knees. It was the same flutter in my heart. The same uplifting feeling like he was going to add to my life in an unimaginable way. Hargrove had kept his promise. He truly had.
"I mean, I've always had a liking for that couch of yours" Billy casually motioned his hand to his 'favorite' thing in the room as he took a small step closer. "And that rug… real nice rug" His fingers glided over my waist, lightly clasping together behind the small of my back. Billy's smokey breath expanded over my lips, grazing over them. They were slightly chapped and his breath was as warm as the humid summer day. Swaying me gently side to side, I melted into the heat emanating from him. "Oh, and not to mention, that is a divine bowl of popparee on the table"
"Ugh, Hargrove, I thought I was meant to be the tease in this relationship?" I flirtatiously said.
"I guess you're not too bad either, Nightingale" Billy huskily chuckled. "Just something about that couch though…" His voice drifted off, eyes roaming something other than the couch in front of us.
Leading me more towards him, one of those wonderful flutters coursed through my body. His nose tickled my ear as he angled his head to whisper something. I let out a quiet giggle. There was something about Hargrove that could easily pull me back down to earth. A playful gravity. A strong current guiding me back to shore. A lullaby sending me into a dream.
"You know what I like even more?" Billy whispered in this smooth, tantalizing voice that made me feel all gooey inside. " You on that couch"
Our eyes locked, twinkling. He reached behind his back, pulling off his gray sports vest to reveal his carefully sculpted abs and smooth, bronzed skin. We both adopted this matching dopey smile and let out a quiet laugh, as if we were about to do it for the first time. Sometimes though, it really did feel exactly like that. There were times where Billy would take off his shirt and I would just allow my eyes to marvel at him, amazed I had seen this body a hundred times yet still saw everything through a fresh lens.
"And just how do I look on that couch, Hargrove?" I inquired, a coy lilt in my soft voice. I tilted my head ever so slightly in this innocuous way that I knew would drive him crazy, my dark curls moving over my shoulder. "Am I wearing clothes or not?"
"Definitely not" Billy murmured as if in a dreamlike trance. His eyes betrayed him though - Billy Hargrove was most certainly not in a trance. They were widened, determined, and fucking ready.
I giggled into the palm of my hand, the laughs growing louder and into a shriek as I felt the air beneath my feet all of a sudden. Before I knew it, I was lying on the couch with Billy straddled on top of me, a wolfish grin on his lips. My entire body roused, every hair stood up to attention, as he grabbed my hand and dragged his lips down the side of it, placing delicately hungry kisses on my wrist. Billy dipped his head, loose curls dangling lazily, as he satiated his appetite, creating a trail of kisses down to my hips. Electricity struck me, sending bolts in every direction. My heart fluttered, skin flushed, bones quivered. All from that one touch. As Billy started taking off my polka dot skirt, his nails grazing my bones, my hips instinctively arched. I let out a small whimper. The familiar heat rose in between my legs and I had to squeeze them together to stop myself from going right there and then. God, it was like I was completely starved.
"Shhh" Billy hushed, moving so his mouth was inches from my ear. "I've not even gotten started, Princess"
We were living in a daydream - his thumb soothingly grazing my jaw, his warm smokey breath mingling with strawberry candy. I was so goddamn high on it. There was no coming down from the clouds, from his gravelly whispers, from whatever paradise we'd found on this old couch. If I closed my eyes, it would all still be there. As if magnetized to Billy, my legs drew themselves up and snaked around the back of his thighs. Billy took a foot, hypnotically swaying it from side to side in his hands until he decided he preferred it on his shoulder.
"Your foot smells like peppermint" he mumbled.
"Do you prefer the smell of years old cheese?" I chuckled.
"I'd still fuck you if it did, Nightingale"
"Gross, Hargrove!"
He drew me into a deliciously chaotic kiss, all air flying out of my lungs. I was on the precipice, ready to explode any moment. It was enough to make all time stop, enough for me to melt into whatever vortex it had been shot into. Suddenly, I was this small speck, lost in a fierce passion. It was so incredible, so intense, just how he moved. I could hear Billy's voice rasp something - a declaration of love, my name, how fucking good this felt. But my ears were still underwater, still too attuned to the ripples of bliss, as they crashed to the shore. We both clung onto each other, both panting and sweaty messes, and luxuriated in the last waves. It was short, but so goddamn sweet.
"I really love this fucking couch" Billy breathed, golden curls stuck onto his forehead.
We both burst out laughing and I watched as Billy collapsed next to me. He hauled me in and I immediately went to burrow myself away into the crook of his neck. It was my comfort, my hiding place, when I never wanted to be free of our shared daydream.
"What did you say earlier?" I asked, referring to what Billy had said as we came to a climax together.
Billy stayed quiet for a moment. His heavy lidded eyes traced my jaw, his hands following to cradle my face in those bear hands. He'd found tranquility in the stillness, an answer.
"I said, you're the love of my life, Nightingale"
~Billy~
Goddamn, I really did not want to do this. Two hours. He'd be gone in two hours. We would have eaten with Him and fulfilled His demands in two hours. Sierra and I would be watching a movie, flicking popcorn at each other. I could do this. Just two hours. That's all it was. My foot was tapping frantically next to the clutch as we sat in the glare of the red stop light. It may only be two hours until I could release the strained breath from my lungs, but so much could happen in that time. He had so much fucking ammunition. He didn't want me to be with Sierra, that much I knew. A small, sarcastic remark here and there - "Boys like you don't belong with girls like her", "Don't you think she'll grow bored of you once she realizes what you're about?", "She'll leave you, William. She'll run for the hills when you go back to your ways, just like you always do".
He was scared, scared I would ruin any prospects of Him joining the big leagues, scared I would destroy any route available for Him to get there. He had no faith in me, no belief that I was anything but this manwhore who would fuck up his life. He said I should have nothing to do with Sierra. Anything I touched turned to ash and rubble, according to Him, and He was frightened Sierra was not exempt from this, that through her, He would never progress in anything. No late night drinks with the Big Boss himself, no golf on the weekends. Sweet fuck all and it would be all because of me.
"Billy," Sierra's calming voice dragged me from the hell of my own mind, the gentleness of her fingers as they wrapped around me taking me far from the foreboding words of my biggest critic "it'll be okay. We'll just nod, play happy families, and then he'll go and we can watch that film you've been wanting to watch"
We'd just dropped Max off, a last minute change of plan, so I could decompress when He left. I didn't want to spend another night reeling at the wheel of the Camaro. Besides, Max was more than happy to do this. After all, she really wanted to avoid whatever embarrassment and shame would come my way at this dinner. I couldn't blame her whatsoever. I preferred it that way. Less people. Less witnesses. Some car had managed to bump into mine when we were outside of the arcade, leaving a dent, which made my breathing even more quietly erratic. My blood was already spiking, boiling madly. He'd notice everything. It was one more bit of fuel for the fire. To me though, it was just a bad omen. I peered over at Sierra through lidded eyes in an attempt to look as if I wasn't about to freak out at any given moment. She was wearing a pastel blue, button down shirt dress that tied at the waist. Something plain, something that couldn't be the target of an unnecessary remark.
"You look good, Princess" I commented and gave her a small smile. Her fingers laced with mine on the gearshift and she returned the smile. "Whatever he says - "
" - don't react" Sierra concluded for me, reciting what had basically been an incantation at the start of our drive. "You know I can't promise to that one"
That's what worried me about this whole dinner. Sierra wasn't one to sit down and shut up. Neither was I, but for the particular event, it was a survival tactic. I knew He was going to bring out the weapons tonight. I just knew it. I knew He'd say something and Sierra would be left to her own devices - either stay silent or speak out. Whatever choice she made, it would wreak havoc. Silence was compliance in her eyes and not saying something ultimately meant she'd leave Him feeling like He was right. She'd struggle to forgive herself and an internal battle of morals would begin, words upon words fighting a crusade in her head until she'd just erupt.
"I can try though" she conceded in a little whisper, almost timidly.
I gave her hand a small squeeze and took a deep breath as we approached the dusty, dirt driveway to the house I had never once called home. It only occurred to me recently that from the very second we stepped foot on this land, I never called it home. If Max was running late, I'd say, "We need to get back". Homework was done in The Communion or at Sierra's. It was never done here. The closest it would get to home was, "Come over to mine". But it wasn't truly mine. Nothing here was mine. My hand tightened around the wheel, feeling the leather shrink under my grasp, as I pulled up. Not even Sierra's hand squeezing mine could drag me out of this one. I'd never done this before. Sure, I'd brought some girls back home, but He'd not seen a single one. Might've heard them, but they were always in my bedroom and out of the house before sunrise. This was different. This was formal. This was Him getting a sneak peek into a part of my life, a part of my life that made me happy. I didn't want Him to sour it, to cast some shadow over the ray of sunshine I had with Sierra. Tonight, I just wanted the rainfall to be quick so I could get back into the sun. But quick rainfall nearly always comes along with a storm, and I had no idea if I was prepared for it.
"Hey, we'll be okay. Take a deep breath with me" Sierra whispered and realigned my face softly so I was looking at her.
And take a deep breath I did - only one. Any more than one and I'd return to overthinking, imagining the worst. I plastered on a smile and got out of the car. Everything was like a production line at this point. Robotic, automatic. I got the door for Sierra, closed it and we reached the front door in a matter of seconds. Susan and He were already inches away from us when the door opened. Susan let out a little, excited shriek I only heard girls make when they met up and gathered Sierra into a hug. I swallowed hard as I caught Him staring at me. This was just the beginning. Was something down my shirt? I'd worn a light blue shirt with jeans. Something casual, nothing too much. His lingering eyes quickly glanced at my jeans. Shit, should I have worn something else? This was just for dinner. A dinner at… home. Inwardly, I repelled at the very word. This wasn't home. This was hell. This wasn't how dinners with a girlfriend and your family should be.
Family.
I locked eyes with Him. A slight curl was in His lips. The jeans had bothered Him.
My stomach churned nauseously, hands glued to the jeans that had offended Him so badly.
He went over to Sierra and gave her a welcoming hug, but His hands lingered just that second longer. Long enough to let me know what His plans were, short enough for it to seem completely innocent. He was testing me. Poke the fire a little more and the flames will turn deadly. He knew what He was doing. Beads of sweat were starting to line my forehead. I wasn't sure if I could make it tonight without losing my shit. Jesus, it was fucking hot in here. Did they have the heating on in the middle of fucking summer or something? Susan smiled broadly at me and I tried to return it, halfheartedly. She was evidently excited to have somewhat of a 'family' gathering. We'd not had one like this before, nor would we ever again. This was just for show. Max and Lucas would never have a dinner cooked for them. Lucas would never be allowed within a mile radius of this pathetic little house. Max would keep their relationship a secret and I'd pray it would remain that way for them. A sudden pang of burning pain spread across my tongue. Unconsciously, I'd been digging my teeth into it this entire time.
Just keep the mask on.
"This looks great, Susan" I said in a sunny tone, gesturing to the dinner of lasagna and salad on the table. They'd even brought out the fucking tablecloth. I gave my head a mental shake. It was time for the twin to shine. He'd not been on the mainstage for a while now. Every now and then, he'd appear, have his moment of glory, and then be swept away by words of comfort. So, I pinned my lips up into a happy smile and pulled up a chair for Sierra. "Do you want some wine?"
"Sure, sounds great. Thank you" Sierra said gratefully, giving my hand a little squeeze. I ran my thumb over hers and went to get her a glass.
"Wow, that's a first. Sierra, you really must give me your secret on turning Billy around. He has manners!" He burst out laughing jovially, banging His hand on the table as a way of displaying just how goddamn fucking funny his joke was.
This was round one. There was no competition for Him here. No one to take away His glory. Round one would turn into round two, round two into being the undefeated champion of being an absolute asshole. The twin knew what to do. Smile, get your own back later.
"I wouldn't say it's a secret, he's always been quite the gentleman" Sierra inconspicuously countered. I could see He furrowed His brow ever so slightly. They were seated directly opposite each other. Sierra wasn't wavering in her stare. She wasn't fucking letting Him win. This wasn't the script He'd written. In His, I'd be the butt of jokes, she'd laugh politely. But it seemed Sierra had her own version of events that would shred His script to pieces because in hers, He'd make the jokes and she'd tear Him a new one with an effortless grace. "You've raised a good egg, Mr Hargrove"
She knew the limits and God, it was impressive. He raised His glass to His lips, a smug smile on them. She really knew how to pull this off. Put them in their place, but make them believe her words by giving them a prized place in how it all happened. He'd raised the gentleman, the gentleman He'd just said had no manners. Now He could revel in how He'd made this gentleman. After all, this was a product of His good work, and now, suddenly I was a gentleman, someone who had manners. It was fucking genius.
I took a seat next to Sierra and poured her a glass, as well as Susan. Susan had been left waiting as He poured Himself one. The fucking hypocrite. He had the gaul to discuss manners whilst possessing zero. Sierra took a small sip and we all waited in anticipation for Him to pick up the fork and start eating. The moment He did, we followed. Sierra may have won that round, but this was just serving a reminder to whose house she was in. Every move, every word, had meaning attached to it. It would never be spoken aloud. No, Sierra would have to decipher it and then carefully decide her next move. I was practically forcing the food into my mouth. If I thought about what I was doing anymore, I'd projectile vomit over this goddamn tablecloth. Screw getting that out again for special occasions.
The next few minutes were Him talking about work, how stressful it had been recently with Starcourt opening, how her Dad had been getting sleepless nights. I could feel the unease emanate from Sierra, but she crushed it down as quickly as it came up. Instead, she nodded obligingly and made minimal 'Mmm' sounds to make it seem like she completely understood and empathized with this struggle. I knew the cogs inside of her head were working overtime just to find something to relate to, to make His issues seem sincere. It worked. She asked questions about how Starcourt was going, He answered it was going well, and she said, "I'm glad" in a content tone. It was working. This was the Happy Family script. So far, so good. I'd been eyeing the clock the entire time. We only had an hour and a half to go.
"And what about work after high school? Do you have anything lined up?" Susan asked.
"I work at Hawkins Post as a writer. Just a little summer internship" Sierra answered, shrugging her shoulders.
Susan straightened her back, shuffling her chair as close to the table as possible, an intrigued glint in her usually bored eyes. She held the tip of her silver fork, unwavering, neither putting it down or going to take another bite.
"A writer? What's it like?"
She was fixated on Sierra's every word. I suddenly felt a sadness cloud over the table and it dawned on me that Susan lived vicariously through others. Through the lives of those she read about in glossy magazines, through Sierra, through Max. She'd either reject it or become immersed. If she became too immersed, she'd realize what her life was actually like and turn on the very people whose stories she'd soaked up.
"It's pretty cool when you're not running around for the bosses getting coffee for them" Sierra laughed slightly, recalling one of the many stories she'd told me about her pig bosses.
"But, you actually write?" Susan asked, awestruck.
"Yeah, I'm doing an article about Starcourt at the moment and the general opinion people have on it. Some are calling it another form of gentrification, others are calling it a breath of fresh air" Sierra replied and took a final bite of lasagne.
Susan's eyes cast downwards, the edges of her mouth crawling upwards, as she contemplatively tapped her foot. Curiously, I watched her. Something was brewing here. Her entire demeanor had changed from a meek little puppy intent on pleasing its owner to an audacious cat who wanted to be heard in every room.
"Well, I think it's real nice to have something new, something modern" She sucked her lips inwards, shifting slightly in her chair. I watched intently. She was gearing herself up to something. Come on, Susan. Be the fucking cat. "But I do think small business owners who've served Hawkins for a while don't deserve to suffer. Starcourt won't do them any favors and I just don't think that's fair"
I felt Sierra inch forward slightly, hearing a small inhale suck through her mouth as she went to form her next inquiry. She was just as intrigued as I was. After all, in all of my descriptions of her, I'd painted Susan to be nothing more than a domestic housewife who waited hand and foot on Him and would lick the shit from His shoes if He demanded it. She was obedient, reserved and incredibly fucking under His spell. But now, we were seeing a fissure in her goody-two-shoes ways. Was this who Susan really wanted to be - an intelligent being capable of forming opinions independent from Him? Or was this who she truly was? Just another mask. We were a house of masks, a stage show. None of us were real here. And now, someone real had entered and shattered the entire illusion and we were following suit.
The unexpected clang of cutlery against a plate made Susan jolt out of her talk. He coughed suggestively. We were done with dinner. He was done with this conversation. Instantly, Susan sprang up to collect the dishes. Sierra offered to help her clean up.
"Ah, it's good to see you've got your woman in place, Billy!" He said with a content smile, leaning back in His chair. His belly was happy and full, lifting itself up proudly. I flashed Him a warning look.
"Don't fucking go there, Old Man" my eyes forewarned. The twin may be on the mainstage right now, but I was more than happy to show my true colors if He pushed me too far. Maybe that's what He wanted. Maybe that's how He anticipated ruining this for me. My heart pummeled against my skin at the speed of light. I was used to thinking both on the spot and ahead of time to avoid a beating, but this was another ball game.
Sierra said nothing. She wanted to. Oh, she desperately wanted to. But, to all our surprise, Susan got there before she could even think as much as opening her mouth.
"That's kind of you, Sierra. But it's okay, it's your place tonight to relax and enjoy some food!" Susan chirped and as if she'd had an electric shock, scuttled a little before picking up Sierra's plate.
Well, fuck me sideways.
I was pleasantly surprised and was sure it showed on my face. It may not have seemed like it, but Susan was speaking out. He shifted in His seat and watched Susan like a hawk as she walked into the kitchen. In my own silent way, I wanted to contribute. Picking up plates wasn't just Sierra or Susan's job. She'd inspired me a little, to fight back against His words. In solidarity, I picked up some things Susan had missed and brought them over. When I got to the sink, I saw Susan's eyes gleaming, a small, triumphed smile on her lips. She mouthed a thank you. Was this what her life was like on a daily basis? She'd played the role so much over the years, and now, she'd started to retaliate, to get out of that confined box He'd put her in. She knew she'd pay for it later but for now, she was winning.
We ate dessert Susan had made earlier. A trifle with some peach slices on top. Conversation dithered here and there. Talks of Sierra's job were quickly cut and the tables were turned onto me. How I was wasting my time with mechanics, how I should have just gone to college. The spoon handle pressed against my thumb and my blood boiled at just how much my hand was trembling with anger. I felt Sierra's foot softly rub the side of mine closest to her.
"Well, as I said, I want a year working out in the real world before all of that college stuff" I grumbled and dug another bit of sickly trifle out of the bowl, shoveling it into my mouth. Jesus, the colors of lasagna and trifle would look fucking swell on this tablecloth. "Besides, gives me a chance to make some money"
"And it gives the college a chance to change their minds, William" He said patronizingly, as if I was a child making a very silly mistake. In the most discreet way possible, I checked the clock endlessly ticking away like an annoying reminder in the background. Not long to go. I could do this. I had to do this. He sighed and casually chucked His napkin on his plate, crossing His arms and giving His head a solemn shake. "See, this is a problem with your generation! You're oblivious to things that happen suddenly. You just think the world is in your pocket. So naive"
He was waiting for a reaction. I could feel the anger emanate from Sierra, but I had already tapped her foot at least five times. Just let Him get it out of His system. Then it'll be over. He'll go off and rant some more on his way to Terre Haute and leave us in some peace.
"And even then, what's happening to Hawkins right now? Jeez, it isn't sudden, it's gradual and so obvious. How many of those Mexicans have you got working at the garage now, Billy?"
Oh, the fucking bastard…
Here it was.
Here it fucking was.
Sierra choked a little on her wine and that same inhale before speaking filled the entire room. However, He got there first. Of course, no one was going to dismiss what He believed was the absolute truth. We had no other opinions, no other facts, in this house, after all.
"We saw it in San Diego and now the same is happening here" He shook His head again, plagued by this notion that anyone who wasn't white and American could possibly get a job. I'd heard this speech a thousand times now and was so numb to it all that I couldn't even feel my fists shake anymore. "All these goddamn immigrants coming over, taking what should be jobs prioritized for hard-working Americans. I mean, Sierra, you're writing an article, right? This is what you should be writing about! It's an epidemic! Starcourt is full of them! Honestly, I feel for your father, that place will get a reputation"
"Well, Mr Hargrove, I'm sure my father won't mind considering my mother was one of those goddamn immigrants" Sierra declared.
Fuck.
Sierra had told me her mom immigrated to Florida from Cuba back in the late '50s. We'd been watching Purple Rain and she'd commented on how Apollonia looked like a younger version of her mom. She'd moved to Hawkins at the age of seventeen and was one of the first non-English speaking families here. I could feel the thunderstorms close in. The seething fury hung over the table like a suffocating humidity and right now, Sierra and His eyes locked together in a silent battle were about to unleash the fucking downpour - lightening, tornados, the entire goddamn thing.
"Dad, let's move - " He raised His hand, rendering me silent.
"No, no, William, it's okay" He started benignly. It wasn't fucking okay though. Sierra was furious and any ability to reign in her anger was absolutely lost. "So, you must see my point, Sierra"
"Dad, please - "
"And what brings you to that conclusion, Mr Hargrove?" Sierra asked, mirroring Him and crossing her arms across her chest. The duel was on. Jesus Christ, I wanted to end this right here and now.
"Well, look at what she did to your family. Typical of that kind. Uh, Spanish or something? Either way, fiery tempers and promiscuous as hell. We've all seen what they're like in the movies!" He remarked, as if commenting on the fucking sun in the sky on a summer day.
"Dad, eno - "
"Cuban, Mr Hargrove"
"What, sorry, dear?"
"My mother was - is - Cuban, and her leaving has nothing to do with her country of origin"
He snorted derisively and rolled His eyes. This conversation was beneath Him. The once golden girl was now tainted, rusting at the edges. All because her mother was fucking Cuban. I couldn't take this anymore. But I couldn't get the words past my lips, past Him. I was being a fucking coward. A sheepish, little kid who was cowering under the table until all the shouting stopped. Blood entered my mouth, swirling around my tastebuds. It was the taste of rage. Sheer, fucking rage.
"All the same" He sighed, pressing His full belly out as He stretched. God, He made me sick. This was a game to Him. "Also, don't worry about using all that flowery language here. You probably do at work because of political correctness and all that hogwash. Tell you what though, kid, I'd control that fire of yours"
"Fire of mine?"
Fuck me, she was virtually on the edge of her seat, ready to pounce.
"Come on, now, Billy, get your woman together. No need to get angry, Sierra! It's just stating facts!"
"Alright, that's enough, Dad" I snapped and stood up.
Immediately, He shot out of His seat and we silently engaged in a battle. Who was going to surrender first? I wasn't going to back down. Not this time. I'd done it too much before. I wasn't going to lose my girl because He was a racist fucking asshole.
"Sit down, William, dessert isn't over" He hissed through gritted teeth.
Sierra's foot tapped mine. Our cue to leave.
"I need to get home" Sierra murmured and also stood up. A show of solidarity and a sign she couldn't contain the anger anymore. "I'm sorry this ended on a little bit of a sour note, Mr Hargrove. I understand we have a difference in opinion"
"Don't worry about it, Sierra" He sighed, wafting His hand as if to completely erase the elephant in the room. I could tell Sierra was waiting for an apology from him. God, I nearly rolled my eyes at the thought. I was so close to thinking she was a fucking idiot for expecting to hear an apology pass those curled, bitter lips. But I had to remember, Sierra hadn't been properly exposed to him before. "Let me get the door for you"
He walked over and I grabbed Sierra's coat, putting it over her shoulders. I'd deal with this in the next couple of days when they were back from Terre Haute. I wasn't mentally prepared for this right now. Currently, I just wanted to get the fuck out of here. He opened the door, standing by it, as if reinforcing His role here. His house, His rules, His beliefs reigned supreme. Anyone who tried to tell Him differently was immediately outcast.
"Just think on what I said, kiddo" He said in this voice that to anyone else just catching it, seemed a genuine piece of advice. "That fire will get you into trouble and I don't want that for you. Don't end up like your mother"
I ushered Sierra out of the door quickly and shot Him a venomous glare. I'd pay for that. But Jesus Christ, I would pay a thousand times over if it meant Him knowing I wasn't leaving this woman. I didn't care if her mom came from Cuba, if her skin was slightly more bronzed than the milky white country girls in this hicktown. I wanted her 'fire' if it meant I was with someone who wasn't going to sit down and shut up when it came to defending someone they loved. It wasn't happening. I'd internalized his beliefs for years, ruining friendships and being a part of a hate-filled story. I didn't want it anymore. This wasn't going to end well though. That much I knew.
Within seconds, I fired up the Camaro. Sound of The Devil blasted out and the tyres screeched as I pulled the car into reverse, dust flying up. We were out of there. I lit up a much needed cigarette, taking a lengthy drag on the acrid shit before passing it to Sierra. To my surprise, she shook her hand at it. A panicked pang struck me. As stupid as it sounded, I knew this meant something. I knew this meant she was at a loss.
"Sierra," I started, teeth grinding together. I was still on edge, still in the fog of an adrenaline rush. Fight or flight, stay or go. "I'm so fucking sorry"
"Billy, it's fine"
"No, Sierra, I'm serious. I'm sorry"
"Billy, I said, it's - "
"It's not fucking fine, Sierra!" I snapped and pulled the car to the side of the dark, country lane. I ran my trembling hands across my face. I was rage. I was sadness. I was all of the fucking above. I hated myself. Seriously goddamn hated myself for putting her through that. "You were just subject to a series of racist fucking comments and you're telling me, you're fine with it?"
"Of course I'm not okay with it, Hargrove. But I didn't exactly want to strangle your Dad at the dinner table" she sighed, finally taking the withering cigarette from my fingers. Oddly, this settled me somewhat. Shallow breathing continued to fill the car. It was mine, not hers. No, Sierra was stoic as anything, outwardly calm. She slackened against the chair as a stream of smoke shot out of her mouth and released a slight laugh. "I'm very big on dinner etiquette"
I knew what she was doing. Crack a few jokes, play along with it like it was no big deal, like it wasn't her boyfriend's father being racist as fuck, like it wasn't Him tarnishing her mother and her ancestry, a complete half of her. It incensed me how He had the audacity to even begin down that stupid rabbit hole. What made me even more angry was how I kept silent. I made a promise to protect her, to ensure her safety. I had promised.
And I just sat there like a coward until the cap blew off.
"I would've been happy for you to do that, believe me" I half-heartedly laughed and held onto her hand like my life depended on it. If I held on tight, she wouldn't let go. She wouldn't leave. God, I didn't want her to go.
"Hm, maybe I'll give your basement a go the next time he comes out with the 'feisty Spanish' rhetoric" she chuckled.
"Cuban, Nightingale" I stated, a hint of mirth in my voice. If I didn't make jokes, I'd get angry again.
"Ah, thank you for the reminder, Hargrove. I don't think I pointed that out enough tonight" She had a smirk penciled on her full lips, but I could tell this was a mask she'd adopted. This was the poison in that goddamn house, Him. All of it. We all wore masks because He made us feel like we weren't enough. We all wore masks so He couldn't cause more damage. But in reality, anything He touched turned to shit. "Please don't blame yourself for tonight. It's not your fault"
"Feels like it" I snorted and discarded the cigarette. "I should have just delayed it"
"And then what? Have it be brought up again and again? This was inevitable, Billy. I was ready for something to come up. I didn't think it would be that though" Sierra shook her head, her eyebrows furrowed. "I'm done talking about it anyway. Maybe later, but just not now. Let's just go get some snacks and head back when we know the coast is clear"
I opened my mouth to murmur another apology and quickly closed it again. Nothing I would say could destroy the oppressing sense of regret I felt stabbing at my mind. I chose to leave it until the last moment to say anything back in the moment, so why say something now it was too late? As if sensing the rearing horns of my distress, Sierra leaned over and gently brushed her lips against my cheek.
"Hargrove, I know you feel bad" Bad? That was an understatement. I felt shit. I felt like driving myself into a fucking tree. "You don't need to apologize on his behalf"
Quietly, I nodded and turned the key to drive off again.
"You don't need to apologize on his behalf"
But would there be a day when I wouldn't have to? It raised so many questions about the future. Would there actually be a day when He could be a decent dad? I knew the answer was beyond impossibility at this point, but the childish dream persisted somewhere. Would the day I stopped apologizing come when I'd get the fuck away from Him? When would that even be? I sighed, an image of the glistening ocean flashing in my mind. It was accompanied by a familiar ache in my chest whenever I'd hear the crashing waves, invisible in this hicktown.
Home.
I wanted to go home.
Peace.
For once, there was peace.
I stood in front of the table where there had been so much tension hours earlier. With a deep sigh, I placed the grocery bag full of chips and all of Sierra's favorite candies in a little space among the mess the Bastard had left for me to clear up. There was an extra can of beer, crushed within an inch of its life. I stared at it for a few seconds, imagining the fleeting scenes at this table after the door had closed on Sierra and I. He was furious, that much was for sure. No one stood up to Him - ever. So you can just believe how goddamn raging He was that He'd had to deal with Susan turning on His deeply instilled beliefs, Sierra not taking His shit and me leaving with her abruptly before we'd even finished dessert. I winced slightly, virtually hearing the crackle of the can screech in my ear. The Asshole didn't even leave so much as a drop for me.
Sierra was upstairs, getting a quick shower before we switched on a movie. I wandered over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of wine. It wasn't mine, it was His. I'd replace it before He was back from Terre Haute. With a careless shrug, I made my way up the dark staircase where I found Sierra coming out of the bathroom, a billow of steam following her. I loved it when she came out of the shower. It was the most relaxed I'd usually see her. Closing the door on the gurgles of the last droplets going down the drain, she spiraled around, combing her loose ringlets with her fingers. Her face, dotted with freckles, was glistening, a rosy hue filling her plump cheeks. She had this inner peace where finally all the intrusive thoughts had come to a pause and it radiated from her.
"Hey, you!" she exclaimed happily, the corners of her lips shooting up into a beaming smile. "Ooh, getting a little fancy with the Moet!"
"Your bougie ways are rubbing off on me, Nightingale" I chuckled and went into my bedroom where I started looking for a shirt for Sierra to wear. "You feeling white shirt or red tonight?"
"Hmm…" Sierra pondered, fingers floating above the shirts. "Red!"
As Sierra got dressed into the shirt and some shorts, I started preparing our snacks, laying out a load of Lays and candies on the bed and pouring us a glass of wine. Soon enough, we were both laid out on the single bed, Sierra's head resting on top of my bare chest, and relaxing in the dim light of the TV. It was perfect - just me, my girl and a decent movie. My fingers circled the roots of her dark curls and finally, after everything tonight, I felt my anxiety start to unwind. The mask could come off now, the twin could go back to his hole. The rhythmic rise and fall of Sierra's petite frame told me she'd managed to relax now too, to the point of falling asleep. Small, content murmurs flew from her lips like a puppy at last being able to run free in dreamland. A smirk penciled itself on my lips. If we could just stay here, do this, for the rest of our lives, then I would be happy.
But then, I heard something outside.
The grumble of a car.
Brow furrowed, I climbed out of bed, carefully resting Sierra's head back onto the pillow. Glaring headlights shined through the window, causing me to squint. Moreover, they caused all air to stop flowing to my lungs.
He was back.
I shot out my bedroom, darting down the stairs.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
The table was a mess.
And now, I was going to be in a shitload of mess.
Before I knew it, He was standing inches from me.
"Did you not hear the phone ring, William?" His voice boomed, echoing down every corridor. Shit, He was going to wake Sierra up. She was going to have to deal with Him again. I wasn't going to be able to protect her from this. "Are you listening, boy?"
As He took a long stride towards me, nostrils flaring and stained teeth bared, I took a wobbly, unexpected step back. My mind fleeted back to earlier. Had I heard a phone? Shit, it must have been when I was out with Sierra getting groceries. He was expecting an answer. But it wouldn't be the right one. If I spoke, blood would spill. If I didn't, it couldn't be worse.
"No, I must've been out still" I shook my head. Where was the mask when I needed it? "Why are you back?"
"My car broke down on the way. I called for you to pick us up. We would have been there by now if you had" I couldn't help but scoff. Shit, why did I fucking do that? "You think this is funny, William?"
"I was dropping Sierra off and went straight up to bed, sue me" I rolled my eyes. If I was going to get a beating tonight, I might as well just let my opinions be known. My body tensed, preparing itself for the onslaught of His fists.
"I would if I hadn't just spent over $60 getting back here to pick up your car" He grumbled and went to get my keys that were hung up next to my coat. "Jesus, you haven't even cleaned the table!"
What the hell? Before I could reflect on any consequences, I snatched the keys out of His hands.
"Not happening. You can't just take my keys whenever you feel like it" I felt the jagged edges dig into the palm of my hand, gearing myself for the pain to come. Focus on the hand, focus on how the metallic feels under your skin. It won't hurt as bad if you just focus on the keys. I was going to keep these keys and take Sierra for a day out tomorrow with Max and Lucas. There was no way in hell He was ruining that for us all.
"You really think you're the boss around here now, William, huh? Protecting your little girlfriend, taking away the keys of the car I bought you?" My body slammed against the table with a deafening thud, the empty dinner plates and glasses jumping frightfully. I went to grip onto the table edge, groaning quietly as shards of glass pierced through my hands. I'd barely stabilized myself before He'd grabbed my shoulders again. "You will learn one day how to respect me, boy"
The pummels started. Our dance of destruction began once more.
I tried to fight back. The disaster He was wreaking felt like searing hot flames on my face. Punches escalated to kicks.
"You think standing up at the table made you the big man, William? Made you feel like a real man?" He seethed thunderously, another blow shooting through my face. "Think it means that slut of yours will bend over for you?" A vengeful lightning bolt struck down my spine. Suddenly, He was on the floor. I was peering over him. Fuck, it was hot. He got up. Boiling heat from His face collided with mine. "You will respect me, William. You will never pull that stunt again. Do you hear me?" He chuckled derisively. Our pants filled the air. I threw a punch, but He caught it just in time. "All for a goddamn girl who's just like her whore mother"
"Shut the fuck up!" I bellowed. All of the pent up fury unleashed hell on Him. His fist raised. And then, a thud. But it wasn't me. My eyes darted to the floor where I saw Sierra. Heart racing at the speed of light, I fell to my knees, bundling her up. "Sierra, Sierra? Jesus, fuck, I'm - " I was spluttering. Fuck, what had happened? My promise was shattered, gone.
I'd failed her.
He stood over us, panic etched in those beady eyes. My face twitched, fists clenched. He'd hurt her. He'd fucking touched her. Blood cascaded from her lip. I'm okay, Billy . It meant nothing. Crimson filled the room, my eyes warping with the sheer fucking rage. My body shook like an earthquake. Inside my gut, a murderous inferno blazed. My arms barricaded around her as He inched forward.
"Take one more step and I swear to God, I will fucking kill you"
He stopped. But I was the fool here. He was never going to stop.
"Like you would have the balls, boy"
I was going to fucking kill Him.
My fingers balled into a fist and I leapt up, fuelled by nothing by this convulsing wildfire, and drove into His face. He did nothing but stare. I was ready to go, ready to destroy Him once and for all. Breathlessly, He just stared.
"Enough, William"
I dug a pointed finger into His chest. I was going to decide when all of this was enough. It would be enough when I'd obliterated Him from the face of this planet.
"You don't ever speak about her that way again - ever. If you so much as breathe near here again, I swear to God, old man, I will pummel you until you're fucking dust" I spat, the blaze surging through my finger as I shoved him against the door. "Do you fucking hear me?"
He just stared.
Answer me, you Bastard.
Fucking answer me.
"I said, do you fucking hear me?" I roared, my voice ricocheting off the walls. I was a savage volcano, ready to erupt if He didn't give me the answer I was demanding. The lava would gorge on him and I'd just fucking watch as it burned him to a crisp.
"Billy…"
Her voice sent the ripple of cool water through me, extinguishing the wildfires. Trembling, I stepped back and watched as He merely stepped out of the front door, leaving us in the ruins of His chaos. Immediately, I was on the floor, frantically wiping at Sierra's lip.
Red invaded my mind. It was everywhere.
"I'm sorry, I heard yelling and came down. I didn't want him to hurt you" As the disordered thoughts simmered down, I saw how she'd charged at Him. She was protecting me, and in turn, I had failed to keep the one promise I had swore to keep. I was a fucking failure. "Are you okay? Shit, we need to get you to a doctor, Billy"
Pulsating with a sweltering heat, I ran my fingers over my bruised face. I didn't care. I really did not give two shits. I'd been here before. But she was never meant to find herself in the midst of His anger.
"Sierra, I - " I stumbled backwards, feeling my lungs constrict. I could hear her voice soothe me. But all I could see was red. The red dripping from her lip, from my face, from His. It was everywhere and it wasn't going away. "We need to get out of here"
All of a sudden, I'd clambered to my feet and raced upstairs. I flung open the doors to my closet, the bang failing to startle me, and grabbed a bag, blindly throwing items in it. Thoughts twisted in my head. Where was I going? Where could I go where He wouldn't follow? I
"Billy, please, we need to get you seen to" I spun around to face her. The vertigo hit me like a truck and I was soon on the floor. He'd really inflicted His worse this time.
Look at yourself.
You're so fucking weak.
"We need to get out of here" Quickly, like our lives depended on it.
My eyes flickered from Sierra to the bag on the floor. I scrambled to my feet, feeling the silkiness of Sierra's skin as she grasped onto my hands, steadying me. Every musing, every word my mind whispered to itself, spiraled, turning into one. There was only one answer.
"You can stay at mine"
I saw sunshine. I heard ocean waves. I felt the gentle breeze.
"Come with me" I blurted out.
"Billy, of course I'm coming with you"
"To California"
Silence finally dawned on us. But it wasn't the one I'd prayed for as blood swirled around my ears with each pummel. It was tense. I saw Sierra's lips part, a croak abandoning her throat instead of the words she was desperately trying to discover.
"Come with me" I breathed. At long last I was coherent, the most coherent I'd been in God knows how long.
My eyes implored hers for something, anything. Damp lines traced her bronzed skin, over those freckles I'd come to adore. She'd been crying. How had I not noticed she'd been crying? The closer I stepped towards her, I saw that her green eyes were pooled with tears. My trembling hands reached up, cupping her jaw.
"Come with me" I repeated, intently locking my eyes with hers. They were determined for her to see what I was seeing right now. The Californian sunset, the waves, the pure tranquility that could be ours. They were communicating everything I wanted for us. I wasn't just asking her to come with me - I was pleading.
"We need to get you to a doctor, Billy. To Hopper, to just someone" She shook her head, lowering it. Tears plummeted onto the floor, over my hands. She was saying no. I opened my mouth to speak, but found a rock had formed in my throat, forbidding me to. "We can get you help, Billy"
"Sierra," I started, voice strained. I felt myself beginning to shudder. I wanted to speak. She had to know. But the more I stuttered, the more she refused to look at me. I felt my hand dropping.
"I can't"
There and then, I knew what this was. There was a reason I felt a fire light up in me every time we approached this topic. Because I knew exactly what it meant, knew exactly was would happen. It was the end. But, dear fucking God, I never wanted this. I was standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting to fall off, but clinging onto dear life. The cliff was breaking, crumbling rock by rock. A tear ran down her cheek. Don't cry, I thought, don't cry like this is the last time.
Instability sent my brain haywire. I was fucking breaking. This, all of what we had, shared, loved, was breaking. I wanted to bring my lips to hers, to softly kiss her and get us out of this mess. I hungered to hear the one word that would unchain us from this tension, so goddamn desperately.
"Sierra - please"
I swallowed hard, forcing the lump in my throat down. Where was the mask now? Why couldn't I put it on? Only for her. Only for her would I cease all pretense. Only with her, for her, could I do this.
"We can build a life together. Remember when we were on the beach and we made a promise we'd get that house by the ocean?" My hands were on her face, her shoulders, anywhere to keep a hold of her.
But I was losing her. She was shaking her head. Tears cascaded down her face and she brought her hands to her face, pressing those emerald eyes shut. With each tear shed, she was letting go. I wanted to drive my fist through a wall. He had caused all of this. The Bastard wanted this all along.
Find your control, Hargrove. Breathe.
"I can't, Billy. Zack needs stability right now"
"I can give him that" I'd do whatever it took for her to come with me. I'd raise the kid. I'd throw that scholarship away. I'd bleed myself fucking dry if it meant we could get the hell away from here.
"No, I'm not asking that of you, Billy" Her voice was crystal clear. No tears clouded her judgment. She meant this. "You have so much you want to do. I'm not letting you give up your dreams too"
"Sierra, I fucking love you. Please, just…" I wavered. There was so much I wanted to say that each word became lost to the haziness returning to my head that was pulsating with agony.
Please, just come with me.
Please, just let me take care of you.
Please, just don't leave me.
My mind fled back to our time in San Diego.
"I could make you so happy down there, Princess" I whispered, finding her face cradled in my large hands.
"I know you could, Billy" she said quietly back, her wet lashed fluttering as she peered down at my hands. Softly, she circled her small fingers around mine and slowly placed them onto my lap.
"You remember how happy we were down there?" I mirrored her, leaning so my nose, damp with sweat and her tears, brushed against hers. "I can't stay here, Sierra" If I stayed, I was going to slowly drown myself with His abrasive words, His punishments. If I stayed, she would surely leave.
Wordlessly, she nodded, her eyes still covered and let out a small whimper from her throat.
"Billy," she sobbed. "You need to do what's best for you"
I knew what words were going to follow.
Fuck, this was it.
She was gone.
And with her gone, so was I.
Tremors, lightning bolts shot through my fingers. One blink and I felt myself invisibly contort. Possessed by a silent anger, I slowly backed off.
She reached over to touch my hand, but I pushed it away. The twin was near, whispering commands in my ear.
Put me back on. I will protect you.
"Don't" I snapped.
"Billy, please, just come back to my house. We need to get you cleaned up" Sierra reached over again and I jumped up, grabbing the bag and started throwing whatever my hands grasped onto first in there. My back was turned to her. I couldn't watch her leave out of that door. At the same time, she couldn't see the tears falling from my eyes. It would fucking ruin me. "I can't go to California, Billy. I want to help you though"
"You can't help me, Sierra" My voice was flat, void of emotion. Just how I wanted it to be.
"God, Billy, please I can! I just need to look after my brother! With my dad getting custody, Grandpa dying... he needs me. He's a little kid who needs me" She was flustered. I was numb. We were done here. "Please, we can get a house here, I just… I can't leave. You know I can't leave"
"Forget it all, Sierra" I stated, my back turned.
"Billy, forget what?"
I heard her frantic steps towards me and spun around. The moment I did, she took one step back, fright keeping her rigid on the ground. My eyes were glazed by the red I couldn't stop seeing. The mask was on, and this time, it was a bloody mess of pain and anger. Instantly, I softened. The woman I loved, still fucking loved, knew how to calm me down. But then I remembered, He wouldn't let me have her. She would adopt the mask and join me here in this hell. I wanted her to leave before she could find in my eyes why she had loved me, before He had the chance to destroy her too.
"Forget about us, Sierra"
I had to convince myself to do it, and bargain with myself. Your peace will be her pain.
Forget the wink I gave her as the flame from the lighter lit my cigarette. Forget the bashful rouge flooding into her cheeks. Forget 20 Questions as the river trickled. Forget the sparkle in those emerald eyes. Forget Live Wire. Forget how soft her lips were.
Forget it all.
It was her, it was me, it was us.
But that was in the past.
Now, it was just me.
And I was getting the fuck away from Hawkins.
"Billy - "
"You need to go"
Stoically, I turned around and resumed packing my bag. I walked over to the small bedside cabinet and paused, seeing the photo of us Jonathan took of us at the Snowball Dance, mere minutes before I told her I loved her. A lump formed in my throat. Caged inside of myself, I screamed, begged, the twin for me to take it all back. It was me, it was her, it was us. I didn't want it to just be me. I had always been me until her. God, please, just let me take it back.
"Billy, I can help. We can get Hopper, we can - "
She was imploring me. But the twin was fed up now, he wanted no more distraction. I wanted no more reminders of how much I'd fucked up.
"You're not telling anyone about this" My finger pointed accusingly at her. "Understand?" She stared at me.
Respect and responsibility.
You will obey me, William.
Do you understand, boy?
I forced my eyes shut.
I wasn't Him.
I wanted to take her in my arms, tell her how sorry I was.
But I couldn't.
If I wanted her away from His destruction, I couldn't.
"Leave"
Defiant as ever, Sierra opened her mouth to speak.
"I said get the fuck out!"
The echoes of my booming voice chased her down the stairs and out of the house. Standing still, with nothing but silence and memories of her, I peered out of the window, watching her go. She was still running. She never looked back. My girl was gone. Like everyone else, she was never coming back.
"You're the love of my life, Nightingale" I whispered, finally allowing the mask to come off as I slid down the cabinet and pressed my legs to my chest.
Sierra and I were done. It was over. I allowed exactly five more tears to fall from my eyes before I took a deep, shuddering breath. I stood up and calmly walked over to my bag, organizing the clothes in them. I took one look at the framed photo of her and I. I turned my back on it. She would never be in my life again. I couldn't let anyone else in now.
Because now, I was going to start running.
I was going home.
~Sierra~
I wasn't sure how my feet had brought me here. I just allowed them to move as if detached from my body. Haunted by the disjointed words that had streamed from Billy's mouth, I merely followed wherever my clouded thoughts had told me to go. A resounding, insistent voice commanded me to turn back multiple times, to rekindle what I was struggling to process. Billy wasn't in the right mind at all. Were we still together? He'd not explicitly said it, so we must be?
The dried trail of tears aggravated me. But I felt no need to wipe at them. I wanted them there still. Once they were gone, it would mean I would have calmed down. When I calmed down, I processed things. I didn't want to process what had just happened. I knew exactly what the conclusion was. I repeated his voice over and over in my head to the point where it was driving me insane.
"Leave"
He wanted me to go. I'd robbed him of the one thing he'd wanted - for me to join him in California. But I couldn't. I yearned so badly to go, to run and abandon everything here, to profusely apologize in a million different ways. I peer upwards at the night sky. It wasn't as comforting as it once was. Hot tears form in my eyes again and begin rolling out.
I was in front of my old home. Somehow, I'd managed to get into the garden and sat myself down on the bench where Billy had convinced me on the night of my Dad's party to go out for a while. Jesus, I'd been so fucking stupid. How could I ever think Billy would be happy to cater to my unusual situation? He was a wild spirit, destined for California sunsets and the freedom of the ocean. He was never going to stay. It was only a matter of time. Surely, these angry thoughts were meant to console me, give me some fiery spirit to vanquish the sadness? But, all I could think, over and over again, was that single command Billy had made.
"Leave"
It was over. I never wanted to leave. Not for once goddamn second. I wanted to scream at him, to tell him I could make him happy. I wanted to feel his summery breath on my lips. I wanted him to believe me. To listen to me. But none of those things happened. Those scenarios repeating themselves in my head didn't exist beyond my brain. They were imaginary. Now, they would never happen.
God, I remembered when Jason Carver really thought he'd had a shot with me here and Billy had shot him straight out of the water. I found myself laughing, found myself creating an image of how he'd walk through the rusty gate and start laughing alongside me at how goddamn funny it had been to see Carver's face fall like that.
I kept glancing at the gate. He'd walk in any moment now. We'd laugh, kiss, head back to watch a movie. I swallowed hard, attempting to eradicate the lump in my throat. Still looking for him, I rose from the bench. Then, it hit me like a tonne of bricks.
Billy wasn't going to walk through that gate.
We were never going to kiss again.
I would never watch a movie with him again.
Never fall asleep in his arms again.
I was still looking for him, waiting for him.
I'd lost him.
I'd asked him once to follow the moonlight, and instead, he'd followed me and become a part of my life. But I wasn't enough.
Suddenly, I heard the rumble of a car close by.
Maybe, I wasn't wrong. Bolting up from the adrenaline coursing through my veins, I went towards the garden gate. I heard a voice frantically calling out my name and before I could even say a word, I was blinded by the glaring car lights. I felt arms around me, felt myself slacken against them. How had they found me here? I thought they were gone for good. But, here they were, holding me tight against them and rocking me side to side. They stroked my hair like they used to. Wracking sobs left my body uncontrollably. Now I was in these arms again, I would never unchain myself from them.
"You're back" I wept.
Was I in a dream?
But as I peered up, it only confirmed one thing: this was real.
It was bittersweet. All I could muster to think was how it was too little, too late. However, tonight I regretted saying what I truly wanted to say. I wasn't going to make the same mistake again. I looked up into their eyes and effortlessly, the words tumbled out.
"I missed you, Mom"