"I didn't know," Max had blubbered, standing at Billy's doorway. "I didn't know he would do that to you."

Billy could barely hear her over the pounding in his head as he sat, stunned, on his bedroom floor. He could feel blood running down his cheek.

"Is he gone?" he grit out, keeping his head down.

"Yeah. Yeah, he took the truck."

"And Susan?"

"In the kitchen, washing up dishes."

Billy grunted. Classic Susan, pretending that nothing even happened.

"Do you… I could get you some ice?" Max offered, her voice small.

It made Billy's blood boil. This was all her fault, anyway.

Except it wasn't, and he knew it.

Neil had never laid a hand on him in front of her until now, and when she'd asked about the cuts and bruises, Billy would say he got into it with some punk at school. So she really didn't know Neil would do this to him.

But Neil did this to him because of her.

Because she didn't come home until five-frickin'-o'clock in the morning, looking all kinds of traumatized. Billy couldn't be bothered to figure out why right then.

"I'm fine, Maxine," he growled, grasping for the necklace around his neck that wasn't there. "Just… Just leave me the hell alone, would you?"

"Okay, yeah," she whispered as she retreated. "Sorry."

She closed the door behind her. Billy grabbed the old shirt lying beside him on the floor, pressed it to his face, and crawled into bed.

xxx

Max did leave him alone.

And he left her alone.

That was what they both had asked of each other.

Susan had grounded Max for three weeks, and Billy was to bring her straight home after school. Which is what he did.

They wouldn't speak a word to each other in the car, and they'd both close themselves in their rooms when they got home.

But late Sunday night, Max knocked on his bedroom door.

"What?" Billy allowed, tossing his skin mag aside.

Max swung the door open; she was biting down, hard, on her lip, and rocking back and forth on her feet. She was holding a walkie-talkie in her hand.

"What?" Billy said again.

"Um. Steve Harrington's dad killed himself tonight."

Billy's breath left him. "What? Where'd you hear that?"

Max shook the walkie-talkie slightly. "Lucas just told me."

Billy closed his eyes. Jesus. If Neil knew she was talking to Sinclair… "So what are you telling me for?"

Max shrugged and looked down at her feet. "Lucas said the Byers took Steve to the hospital. I-I guess… I guess he and his dad got into a fight before… it happened. Lucas said he's in bad shape."

Billy swallowed hard, wishing Max hadn't told him any of this. He's not supposed to feel bad for Steve Harrington; but he does. He can't feel it in the tightness of his chest. "I don't know why you think I give two shits about him," Billy told her, lying to himself through his teeth. "Did you not see what I did to him? I mean, are you blind? I put him in the hospital myself."

The color drained from Maxine's face. "I saw," she whispered. "I just thought you'd want to know."

"Okay. Well, now I know." Billy picked up his magazine. "Get lost, Red."

Max looked dumbfounded as she lingered in the doorway. "You're no better than Neil, you know that?" she spat, before turning on her heel.

She let the door slam behind her.

It shook Billy to his very core.

xxx

Maybe he's just curious.

At least, that's how Billy tries to swing it. Why else would he have offered a ride to Harrington, the guy who has - in part - made his life a living hell the past two weeks?

So much has transpired in those few short days. So much that Billy doesn't understand.

He thought he had Hawkins all figured out.

Boring town. Boring people.

But when he'd come to in the Byers' house that night, after being drugged up by freaking Maxine, he'd realized that he'd had it all wrong. There is some weird shit going down in Hawkins.

The wall-to-wall coverage of sloppily colored pieces of paper told him that much.

He wants to know why Maxine has been having nightmares ever since that night. She screams her fucking head off at ungodly hours; probably wakes up the entire neighborhood.

Not to mention the way that Byers, that Wheeler girl, and Steve all huddle around their lunch table speaking in quiet tones and looking over their shoulders like they have some big secret to keep.

Billy's tired of it. He's done keeping to himself. He wants answers.

But that night isn't all he's curious about. Not anymore.

He's curious about what Harrington is going through; his state of mind. He wonders if it's truly hit him yet, wonders if he was even close to his father.

He wishes he didn't care. He's not supposed to care. He's made a point not to care about anyone or anything for so long.

Only this is different. He needs to care about this. He doesn't know how not to.

"So, are you like a full-time babysitter now?" he asks Harrington, flicking ash from his lit cigarette out the window with left hand. He glances in the rearview mirror at the Byers kid sitting in the backseat.

"I don't know, are you a personal chauffeur?"

Harrington's words are anything but laced with malice. He just sounds tired. "That's my house to the left," he adds, pointing lazily at a gray-sided house with an auburn door.

Billy pulls into the Harringtons' driveway and his eyes widen at what he sees on Steve's front stoop. There must be eight or more flowered plants sitting there.

"What the…?" Steve breathes at the spectacle.

Billy throws the car in park. He knows that Steve's dad was some kind of hot-shot lawyer, which is why the news of him passing was plastered all over his TV this morning. The neighborhood must be paying their respects.

"Have you… did you see the news this morning?" Billy asks him.

"No. But I take it the whole town knows." Steve's voice is rough. "I mean, you had to find out somehow, right?"

"I found out from Max," Billy says, letting his cigarette dangle between his teeth. "Sinclair radioed her."

"Max talks to you?" the kid pipes up from the back seat.

No, but… "She did about this," Billy answers over his shoulder, then turns his attention back on Harrington.

Steve is staring at his house like it's the absolute last place he wants to step foot into. He wipes his hands back and forth on his knees. "Okay. So, uh, I guess you can take off," he says timidly.

There's a beat of silence.

"You kind of need to get out of my car first," Billy points out with a smirk. He can tell Steve is stalling.

"Oh. Yeah…"

Harrington licks his lips and breathes out deeply. Then he kicks open the passenger door and the Byers kid follows suit. Steve bends down to talk to Billy through the window. His face is sweaty and ashen as he says, "Uh, thanks, Hargrove."

Billy scoffs. "Don't fuckin' thank me," he growls at him, because he beat this guy's head in two weeks ago and being thanked is the stupidest thing he's ever heard of. Ignoring the polite dismissal for what it is, Billy kills the engine and gets out of his car, too.

Will speaks what Harrington is thinking. "What're you doing?"

Billy isn't entirely sure why, but there's something in him that doesn't want Steve going into that house alone.

So he takes a long drag on his cigarette, shrugs, and says, "I want to see the King's castle."