"Morning, Mom."

Joyce jumps a little at the sound of Will's voice. She scoots the breakfast casserole dish further into the oven, closes it, then turns around to face her son who is standing in the doorway. "Hi, sweetie." She sheds her oven mitts on the counter. "You're up early. Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Will says, quick to reassure her. "Just woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. You're up early."

Joyce brushes it off. "Oh, you know me. Queen of the Insomniacs."

And if Will had been her other son, her nagging son, he would have said you need to take care of yourself, Mom. You need your sleep.

But Will is her relenting son, so he just smiles at her and crosses the room to have a seat at the kitchen table. "You making a casserole?"

"Yep, I sure am," Joyce says brightly and takes the seat at the table across from her youngest. "Your favorite." She reaches across the table to put her hand on top of Will's.

"How did everything go last night?" Will asks. "After you made me go to bed?"

"Well, you know how we talked about the possibility of Max's family staying with us for a while?"

Will nods.

"I was able to talk to Max's mom over the phone, and she took me up on the offer. She's worried to go home - she doesn't want Billy's dad to know where they are - and since they're new in town, she doesn't really have anyone else to turn to."

"Okay," Will says carefully. "And Jonathan's okay with them staying here?"

Joyce frowns a little at that. "Yes, honey, of course. He said he was."

Will bites down on his lip, looking unsure.

Joyce squeezes his hand. "I know this will be an adjustment," she says. "And I know Billy Hargrove is a bit of a wild card, but I just have this feeling" - it's more of a calling, really - "that we can help."

Will nods. "I have that feeling, too," he says softly. He lets out a deep breath. "But I'm worried about you, Mom."

Okay, so maybe Will is turning into a bit of a nag after all, Joyce thinks, and it makes her feel so, so cherished, which can't be a bad thing.

"You spend all your energy taking care of everyone else," Will continues with a shake in his voice. "You… You didn't even have time to grieve for Bob because you were taking care of me and—"

"Will, honey," Joyce interjects, because Will is close to tears and that will never not break her heart. "I've grieved plenty. I'm still grieving. But life goes on."

"I know, Mom." Will smiles sadly at her. "But… shouldn't it slow down a little?"

Joyce takes pause at that. Her Will is sapient beyond his years, hence the nickname his friends coined for him: 'Will the Wise.' "Sure," Joyce tells him easily. "If there aren't other people in need."

Will sits quietly for a moment. "Bob would have wanted to help," he says thoughtfully.

"I think you're right," Joyce agrees.

"So we'll help," Will says, determinedly.

"So we'll help," Joyce echoes.

Will runs his hands through his hair. "Do you know how Billy is doing? They admitted him, right?"

Joyce nods and glances at the clock. "He should be getting prepped for wrist surgery as we speak. If everything goes okay, he'll be released later today."

"Is Steve gonna take us over there?"

"No, sweetie. Max's mom asked him to stay here with Max. They got home really late last night. They'll probably sleep late this morning. If you need something you can wake Steve up, but otherwise…"

"Let them sleep. Got it."

Joyce smiles at her son and then stands to start putting the dishes away. "I get off work at 3. I don't think Billy will be released from the hospital before then, but if he is, Hopper said he'll be the one who brings him and Susan over here. He can help them get settled if I'm not here, okay?"

"Okay."

xxx

Hopper brings Joyce lunch. He's been doing that once or twice a week. He'll bring her a bagel sandwich and iced tea from the deli down the road, eat with her, and get back to patrolling.

Joyce wasn't expecting him today, since he'd had such a late night of work.

"You're here!" she greets him as he drops the wrapped sandwich on the counter in front of her. "Thought you'd sleep until you go to pick up Billy and Susan."

"Nah. I caught a couple hours," he says. "I'm not missing the best part of my week just to sleep." He gives Joyce a little wink and she chooses to ignore any romantic connotations behind it. "Susan called me about an hour ago. Billy's surgery went well. I'm picking them up around 4:00. They're giving the kid some time to come down from the anesthesia."

Joyce feels herself relax a little at the news that the surgery went well. She peels the label holding the wrapper of her bagel together. "Any word on the boy's dad?"

"He came to early this morning. Left the hospital AMA and went home. I have two officers positioned outside the house. I want eyes on him until we can get a statement from Billy."

"You think he'll run?" Joyce asks.

"Wouldn't put it past him."

"Do you think it's okay to have Steve and Billy under the same roof? The same roof that… I mean… three weeks ago… what that boy did to Steve…"

Hopper lets out a puff of air and rubs at his eyelids. Y'know, I do think it's okay. I can't wrap my head around it, but I think they've become something akin to… friends? It seems like Steve wants Billy under the same roof as him. He was stricken last night when I got that radio call and he knew Billy was hurt."

"It's weird, right? And Billy Hargrove, with all the baggage that comes with him, it just seems like an awful lot for Steve to take on right now."

"He's not taking it on alone, Joyce."

"Oh, I know that," Joyce tells him. "I just…"

"Are you having second thoughts about Billy and the Mayfields staying with you?" Hopper asks, lowering his head a little to look Joyce in the eye. "Because it's an awful lot for you to take on, too, with Will and Bob, and now Steve…"

Joyce effectively avoids his gaze by pulling the wrapper off her bagel and taking a sizable bite. "I'm not having second thoughts, Hop," she says as she chews. "I want to help the kids and Susan. I just want to make sure Steve doesn't get more hurt than he already is in the process. And then this morning, Will said something about Jonathan…"

"These are sounding eerily similar to second thoughts, Joyce," Hopper says, not unkindly. "And nobody would blame you if—"

"They're just regular thoughts," Joyce tells him stubbornly. "I'm not backing out of this. It wouldn't be right when they have no one else to turn to. We can help them navigate this."

"Yes, we can," Hopper nods.

They're quiet for a moment as Hopper starts in on his own sandwich and they eat in silence for a while.

"Hey, what're those?"

Joyce follows Jim's gaze to the new arrivals display by the front door.

"Oh, they're fold-away sleeping mats. We just got them in this week."

Jim hops off the counter to take a better look.

He raises his eyebrows. "Don't you think one of these might be useful? Your house population has doubled and then some. Let me buy you one."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. I think it'd be good to give Hargrove some options. This way he can bunk with the boys if he wants, or with Max and Susan, or he can opt for the couch if he'd rather be alone." Jim runs a hand through his hair. "I just don't want him to feel trapped, you know? Or… banished to the couch."

Joyce chews on her lip. "Yeah, okay. That makes sense. I don't want him to feel like he's being punished. But Steve gets the final say. I'm not rooming him and Billy together if it'll make him even the slightest bit uncomfortable. He has priority."

Victims of assault always get priority over their aggressor, no matter the circumstances. Joyce isn't wavering on that.

Jim nods his agreement. "I think that's perfectly reasonable."

xxx

The first time Joyce heard about Billy Hargrove was three weeks ago, when she had learned the name of the boy who had given Steve Harrington one hell of a concussion. Heck, at that point, she barely even knew Steve Harrington.

And now they're both going to be staying under her roof.

Wild.

Completely bonkers.

Since learning Billy Hargrove's name, Joyce had put a couple of other things together.

That basketball star that the whole town has been buzzing about? Billy Hargrove.

That bad boy who drives the Camaro and blasts his music and has the confidence fit to make middle-aged mothers swoon? Also Billy Hargrove.

But the Billy Hargrove that's standing in front of her now is a version of Billy Hargrove whose reputation does not precede him.

This Billy Hargrove is quiet. He's unsure, he's scared, he's broken.

And he's actively making himself as small as possible behind Susan.

Little Susan who looks like she feels as out-of-place as Billy does.

Hopper stands towering behind them, multiple overnight bags slung over his shoulder.

"Hi," Joyce greets, her warm smile coming naturally for her newest guests. "Hi Susan, hi Billy. Hop. Please, please come in."

She steps aside to reveal the family room, where Steve, Max, Jonathan, and Will have all stood from their spots on the couch to greet the guests as well.

"Joyce, I can't thank you enough for this," Susan says as she steps across the threshold.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all." Joyce waves her off with a flip of her hand. "I wish it was under better circumstances, but I am always happy to open my home to guests."

"Well, you are truly kind."

"Hi, Mom. Hi, Billy," Max says, stepping forward to give her mom a little side-hug. She looks at Billy. "Aren't you going to come in, Billy?"

The poor kid is rooted to the spot, still on the other side of the threshold. Now that Susan has moved out of Joyce's line of vision, she can see that his left arm is casted and in a sling, but he's cradling it with his other arm, making him look even smaller. He's hesitant, but the personal invitation seems to be the nudge he needs to step inside.

"Hey, man," Steve greets him gently.

"Hey," Billy returns. "Mrs. Byers, thanks for all this," he says, not quite meeting her eyes because he had to do a double-take when he saw Steve. And it's apparent why. "Steve, you're bleeding," he stammers.

It's true; there's fresh blood smeared above Steve's upper lip. "Your nose, hon," Joyce clarifies, and hastily reaches for the the tissue box on the end table by the couch.

"What?" Steve says, bringing the back of his hand up to his nose. "Oh, shit. Sorry."

He plucks a few tissues from the box Joyce holds out to him and puts them up to his face.

"Sit back down, Harrington. Keep your head back," Jim instructs from the doorway, so Jonathan tugs him back down onto the couch.

Meanwhile, Billy has gone as white as a sheet. "Um…" He takes a few steps backwards toward the doorway, and stumbles enough that Hopper has to grab onto his right arm to keep him from falling.

"Whoa, kid. You alright?"

Billy shakes his head. "I can't b-be here," he breathes, and his chest is heaving. "I need to… I n-need out." He's frantic.

"Wait, Billy, what—?" Steve says from behind the tissues.

"He needs some air," Max says, starting toward him. "Billy, let's go sit on the porch for a bit, yeah?"

Billy focuses his eyes on her and takes in a deep breath, relaxes a fraction. He nods minutely.

And Joyce is impressed that Max is able to take charge like that. She gives a little nod to Jim's questioning glance, so he steps aside and lets the siblings exit to the porch, Max gently tugging her step-brother by his good arm out the door.

"I'll… keep an eye," Jim decides, which is good because Joyce was going to ask him to, anyway. He sets the bags on the floor and slips out the door after them.

Susan looks stunned at what just unfolded and has her hand up to her mouth. Jonathan is consoling Steve. And Will, bless him, is picking the bags off the floor.

"You can put them all in your room for now, sweetie," Joyce tells him.

"Okay, Mom," Will says and heads for the hallway.

"Steve, are you okay, hon?"

"Yeah, totally," Steve answers with a wave of his hand. "This just… happens. It's no big deal. I should go talk to Billy."

"Maybe wait until you stop bleeding first," Jonathan suggests. "Jim and Max are with him."

"Well, we know how to make an entrance, don't we?" Susan says nervously.

"Oh, don't worry about that," Joyce tells her. "I'm sure this has to be… overwhelming for him." She's not even sure Susan knows the history of what happened in this house with Billy Hargrove.

"He's just so… unreachable," Susan says. "I don't know how to talk to him. I never have… and now—" she breaks off, covers her face with her hands.

"Hey," Joyce says and gently grasps Susan's arm. "Let me get you a glass of water, and we can talk in the kitchen."

Susan sniffs pitifully and nods, so Joyce guides her toward the kitchen.

xxx

"I want you to know that there is no pressure," Joyce tells Susan, as she sits down at the kitchen table across from her. She slides her a glass of water. "Talking about this sort of thing can be hard. I know, because I went through something similar with my ex and my boys." Joyce lets out a deep breath. "I can be a listening ear if you need one. I just want you to know that you're doing the right thing. By leaving him."

Susan looks down at her water. "I know. But I'm afraid I should have left him sooner. I almost feel… complicit."

Joyce frowns. "How so?"

Susan dabs her eyes with a handkerchief she pulls out of her purse. "Because I knew Neil was rough with him, and I should've tried to put a stop to it… but I've never been able to even talk to Billy. He's always been so guarded… and abrasive with me that I've never felt able to approach him about it. The one time I tried he told me to - pardon my language - fuck off and mind my own business. Told me not to ruin the one good thing I had going for me and Max."

Joyce bites down on her lip; her heart is aching for the boy on her front porch. "Has Neil ever raised a hand against you?" she asks gently. "If you don't mind me asking."

"No. Never," Susan tells her. "It's only been Billy. At least- until yesterday… when Max got between them."

"Because Max was trying to protect Billy," Joyce clarifies.

"Yes. She has more guts than I have."

Joyce agrees, but she can see how much Susan is beating herself up over all of it. "The important thing is that you're all safe now."

Susan sniffs and nods. "Y-You must think I'm terrible, for not getting Billy - us - away from him sooner."

Joyce shakes her head. "I think you were scared. Fear has a way of paralyzing you from doing what you know is right. So does love."

Susan looks up at her then and Joyce meets her eyes with understanding.

She gets the guilt Susan is feeling. Joyce gave Lonnie more second chances than he deserved. It's a decision that will haunt her forever because it's a decision that put her boys at risk.

Joyce clears her throat. "Why don't you go freshen up, Susan?" she suggests. "I'm going to start heating up the casserole for dinner. You and Billy must be hungry, and you must be exhausted. This way you can turn in early tonight. Does that sound good?"

Susan wipes her tear-streaked cheeks with her handkerchief. "Yes, okay," she nods. "Thank you, Joyce. For everything."

They stand in unison. "Let me show you to your bedroom," Joyce says, and guides her out of the kitchen and down the hall.