Dusk is approaching as Steve drives Billy back into town.
They've fallen quiet again and Steve takes a moment to ponder how he wound up here. With Billy Hargrove riding shotgun in his BMW.
He wonders if everything that's happened the past week has just been some kind of dream.
Or nightmare.
Because never in a million years would he have thought he'd wind up here.
He feels like he needs to wake up.
"Why didn't you press charges?" Hargrove asks suddenly, making Steve jump and effectively snapping him out of his inner turmoil.
"What?"
"The night I almost killed you. Why didn't you press charges?"
Steve licks his lips and focuses hard on the road before answering. "There was a lot going on that night. Having you arrested was not exactly on my list of priorities."
He doesn't add, Max asked me not to.
"I almost killed you," Billy repeats softly, and there's remorse there. Steve can hear it.
He grips the steering wheel tighter. Can't make his voice work to say anything back.
So it just hangs in the air between them.
After a moment, Steve reaches to turn the radio on because he can't handle the silence.
He expects Billy to make a comment about the Don Henley that fills the car, but he doesn't. Steve takes his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at him.
Billy's hands are clasped together and he's biting down - hard - on his lower lip like he's trying to hold in any and all forms of emotion. Anger, fear, sadness… Steve isn't sure. But the pit in his stomach grows larger.
"Are you sure you want me to take you home?" Steve asks him.
"That's what I said, ain't it?" Billy growls back with a challenging tone.
It doesn't faze Steve; he moves onto his next question. "What're you going to do about your car? You know, Tommy's dad does repairs for a living. I could take him your car tonight."
"You'd do that?" Billy croaks, disbelief evident in his voice.
Steve glances at the clock on his dash. It reads 7:22. The shop closes at 8:00. "Yeah."
"Why?"
"I don't know, Hargrove," Steve answers tiredly, because he truly doesn't. "Maybe for the same reason you took me to get my car yesterday. The same reason you didn't let me go into my house alone."
When Billy doesn't say anything to that, Steve continues. "Or maybe it's because I just want something to do. Because if I'm not keeping busy, then I'm in my head and forced to deal with shit I'm not ready to deal with yet.
"So tell me, Hargrove. Do you want your fucking car fixed or not?"
It's an echo to the line Billy used on him the day before when he'd persuaded Steve to take a ride back to his house, and Billy knows it.
He sniffs and wipes at his eyes. "Yeah. Okay."
When Steve drops him off in front of his driveway, Billy mutters a thanks that Steve wasn't expecting.
His voice is caught in his throat. "Sure. I'll pick you and Max up for school tomorrow. Have Max radio me if..."
He trails of, but Billy nods anyway.
If something happens.
Steve watches Hargrove disappear into the house before driving away.
xxx
Steve buys a gas can on his way to the Byers' where he recruits Jonathan to drive him back to Billy's Camaro and then follow him to Hoffman's Auto Repair.
Nancy is there, and she insists on coming too.
She disapproves of the whole ordeal. "You don't owe him anything," she says when they arrive at the shop. "You know that, right?"
"Yes, Nancy. I know that."
"So why are we here?" Jonathan asks as they approach the empty counter of the shop. "He's the idiot who punched the window. He should have to figure this out for himself."
Steve doesn't get a chance to answer him because Tommy materializes - out of nowhere, it seems - and he's walking their way and Steve wants to melt into the floor and disappear. He didn't know Tommy worked for his dad now, but he's wearing the coveralls to prove it.
"Harrington…?"
"Tommy. Hey." Steve stuffs his hands in his pockets, his voice is guarded.
"What's goin' on?" Tommy slings a greasy rag over his shoulder and looks past them at Billy's Camaro in the parking lot. "Is that Hargrove's car?"
Steve reaches up to scratch the back of his head. "Yeah, busted window needs repair."
Tommy raises his eyebrows and a smirk settles into his features. "He's got you running errands for him? How did that happen?"
Nancy steps in front of Steve, hands on her hips. "Steve doesn't need to explain himself to you, Tommy."
"Yeah," Jonathan echoes, and Steve almost smiles at the irony since both of them were trying to get him to explain himself just moments before. "Can you fix the window or not, because we can take business somewhere else, you know."
That's not entirely true - Hoffman's Auto Repair is the only car repair shop within a 30 mile radius. It's why the Hoffman's are doing so well for themselves.
Tommy glances at Steve and rolls his eyes, as if to say, you ditched me for these clods? "We can fix the window," he says with sneer. "Let me go grab my dad. He'll give you an estimate."
"On the house!" Steve hears, as Mr. H. enters the lobby from the garage, wearing the same gray coveralls as his son. "Is that Steve Harrington, I see?"
Steve feels his lips quirk into a smile. "Hey, Mr. H," he says sheepishly. Steve had always liked Tommy's dad. "How've you been?"
Mr. H. holds up a hand, deflecting the question. "Cut it with the pleasantries, kid," and runs the same hand through his graying hair. "First, let me give you my condolences about your old man."
"Right," Steve says softly. "Thank you, sir," He nods once and clears his throat of the emotion rising there. He feels Jonathan rest a hand on the small of his back to ground him as Mr. H reels on with the I couldn't believe its, and how are you holding ups. And Steve answers with the most generic, brush-offs he can muster.
"Well, we've missed you coming around," Mr. H. says sincerely. "Tommy tells me you've been busy - something about wanting to spend all your time with a new girlfriend?" He eyes Nancy and Steve feels his face redden.
It dawns on him then that Tommy hasn't told his father about their falling out. "Yeah, something like that," he says meekly, trusting Nancy and Jonathan will go along with it to avoid an awkward conversation.
Steve hears Tommy scoff a bit from where he's leaning against the counter, but he doesn't say anything, except, "Getting close to closing, Pop."
"Right. Well, Steve, like I said… this one's on the house. Just leave the keys to the Camaro with Tommy, and we'll have her fixed up for you by the end of the day tomorrow."
Tommy holds his hand out expectantly and Steve drops the keys into his palm. "I'll walk you out," he says.
"Thanks, Mr. H.," Steve says again, over his shoulder, as Tommy ushers them out of the shop.
xxx
Once outside, Tommy takes ahold of the meat of Steve's arm. "Can I have a word with you?" He licks his lips as he looks at Jonathan and Nancy. "Alone?"
Steve frowns at the softness in Tommy's voice. "Uh, yeah, I guess." To the others, he says, "Can you guys wait in the car?"
Nancy and Jonathan hesitate. "Steve—"
"It's okay," he assures them. "I'll just be a minute."
They're not happy about it, but they cross the parking lot and disappear into Jonathan's Ford LTD anyway.
"You make a fine third-wheel, Harrington," Tommy remarks, leaning nonchalantly against the siding of the shop. Then, in the same breath, he says, "That's fucked up about your dad, man."
It's a calculated remark, deliberately devoid of consolation. Steve thinks he should've known better than to give him the benefit of the doubt.
"Yeah, no shit, Tommy."
"Why'd he do it?" Tommy presses, like the jerk he is - looking for something juicy so he can blab it all over town. "Did you find him?"
Steve closes his eyes, feeling a swell of sadness in his gut. "You're unbelievable."
"What?" Tommy asks dumbly.
Steve starts backing away. "Just fuck off, Tommy, okay?" he says, before turning on his heel and making a beeline for Byers' car.
"What?" Tommy calls after him. "We were just talking, man!"
Steve flips him the bird over his head and ducks into the backseat of Jonathan's car. He's crying and he hates that he let Tommy H. get to him.
"What'd he say to you?" Jonathan asks. "Are you alright?"
Steve wipes his face with his sleeve and sniffs. "Nothing. I'm fine. Just drive, please."
Jonathan doesn't hesitate to oblige.