It's feels a little surreal, knocking on the door to his own house, as he tries to slow the thumping of his heart while his breaths come in heaves.

"Billy?" he says through the oak. "It's Steve, man. Open the door."

There's a moment where Steve panics. What if Billy hadn't come here? What if he is still out in the cold, running, scared, hurt?

He knocks again. "Billy. Are you there?"

Come on, come on, come on.

The door swings open then and that should bring relief, but instead Steve feels a whole new level of panic.

Because Billy is standing in front of him but he's vacant. Docile.

There are tears sliding down his cheeks, soaking wet curls joining the mix. His left arm is hanging limply by his side, his hand bent in ways it never should. His knees are shaking, like standing upright is more of a chore than his body can handle.

"Steve?" he breathes out, leaning heavily against the doorjamb. He blinks dazedly.

"Yeah, it's me." Steve reaches for him out of instinct. "Sit down on the steps, okay? Let me look at you."

Billy is like putty as Steve guides him to the stairs, lets his head fall onto Steve's shoulder. He doesn't understand. "How d-did you…?"

"The chief was at the Byers' when we got back from the game," Steve explains to him as he lowers Billy to the second step up so they can sit side-by-side. Billy keeps his cheek against Steve's shoulder. "The station radioed him; I overheard and he let me ride along. I just came from your place. Max is okay. Neil was taken in an ambulance."

Billy takes a moment to process all that. "What about Susan?" he croaks.

"She's worried about you."

Billy makes a disbelieving noise in the back of his throat. "Max is okay?" he repeats, lifting his head up, like those words had just clicked.

"She's worried about you, too. But yeah."

Billy lets out a shaky breath. "He was h-hurting her…"

"And you stopped him, man. She's okay," Steve puts a grounding hand on his knee. "Now I need to make sure you are." He glances at Billy's contorted hand. "You need a hospital."

Billy blinks and looks down. He doesn't even try to save face or put on a front, and that rattles Steve to his very core. "Yeah," he croaks. Agrees.

"Did you hit your head?"

"Dn't know."

Steve cranes his neck to try and see if Billy's pupils are blown, but it's hard to tell in the dim light.

"I'm gonna drive you, okay? I just need to call Hopper and let him know I found you."

"'Kay."

Steve leaves him on the steps and goes to hunt down the cordless phone in the kitchen.

The kitchen, where his dad had taken his last breath. Steve hadn't dared to step foot in there when he came with Hargrove to get his BMW, and he isn't crazy about doing it now.

He stands at the entryway for a moment. Hopper must've cleaned the place, because it's spotless now. All the pizza boxes, soda cans, and beer bottles have disappeared.

Jesus, just look at this place, Steven!

Steve holds his breath like the room has contaminated air, dashes to the phone, grabs the keys to his dad's Audi off the hook nearby, and dashes back, not willing to stay in that room a second longer than he needs to.

When he returns, Billy is sagged against the wall, eyes fighting to stay open.

Steve cups his cheek, uses his thumb to wipe away the stray tears that linger, and gives Billy's right shoulder a gentle shake.

"Hey, you still with me?"

Billy grunts and nods vaguely.

"I need you to tell me your number."

Billy mumbles the digits and lets his eyes slip closed while Steve makes the call.

xxx

Hopper picks up on the first ring.

"Kid?"

"He's here, Chief."

Hopper breathes out a sigh of relief, and his voice is muffled when he passes the news along to Susan and Max. "How's he looking? He okay?"

"His hand's messed up. Think he might be in a bit of shock. I'm going to drive him to the hospital. I'll…" Steve swallows. "I'll take my dad's car."

Hopper is quiet for a beat. "Are you sure?"

And Steve understands why he's asking. Because being in that car is going to be hard, and he knows it.

He just doesn't really see another option.

"I'm sure," he answers and tries to believe it.

"We're almost finished up here," Hopper tells him. "We'll meet you at the hospital."

"Okay. See you there."

xxx

"Steve?"

Billy's voice is careful and quiet when he speaks Steve's name from the passenger seat of the Audi. His head is resting against the window. They've been driving in silence that Steve has desperately wanted to break, but hadn't known how.

"Yeah?" Steve takes his eyes off the road to quickly glance in Billy's direction. Holds back the reflex to ask him if he's okay, because… dumb question.

So he almost drives off the road when Billy asks him: "You alright?"

The fucking irony.

Not to mention utterly unexpected out of the mouth of Billy Hargrove. The question, the genuine concern… it throws Steve completely off-guard.

"I'm…" Steve doesn't know what to say. His gut reaction, of course, is to say I'm fine, but he knows that's the easy way out. And the question means more coming from Billy than anyone else who has asked him that the past couple of days. The timing just feels… off.

Considering they're en route to the hospital. For Billy.

Even through the fog of pain and terror that Billy must be experiencing, he seems to realize how out of place the question is. So he adds. "Your arms are shaking."

Oh.

He's not wrong. Steve's arms are practically vibrating as he grips the steering wheel.

"It's just… this is a lot," Steve explains. It's the truth.

"I know," Billy says, his head still resting on the cool glass of the window, like he doesn't have the strength to lift it. "It's why I told you to stay the fuck away from me." He sounds so sad and defeated and Steve can't stand it.

He doesn't know how to make Billy understand.

"This is a lot," Steve repeats softly. "But it's not more than I can handle," he says that firmly, confidently. "I'm here and I want to be here."

But Billy still isn't hearing him. "Why?" he croaks, then sniffs. "You have so much else going on. And I… I fucking…"

Beat your face in. Shattered a plate over your head. Terrorized your friends.

"You were scared."

And that's just it, isn't it? Steve realizes as he says it. The core to Billy Hargrove is fear. The shell, his mask, is anger. And right now, that shell is stripped away and Steve can plainly see everything underneath.

"I'm sorry," Billy says.

Steve swallows over the lump in his throat.

"I know."