Even Stranger Magic

It was fucking embarrassing, that's what it was. It was fucking embarrassing to be laying in a hospital bed with ugly ass nurses sniffing around and asking too many questions.

Billy had a plan, a fucking good plan. Neil kicked his ass forwards, backwards, and sideways. There wasn't any hiding shit after he wailed on him. Billy couldn't hole up in his room for a couple of weeks or hope his wrist set itself in a way that it wouldn't be busted for the rest of his life.

Alright, maybe it had been a stupid plan, but Billy needed to be seen in a hospital and he needed it done in a way that wouldn't end up with caseworkers and foster care.

So… Billy drove to the highway and flew through red lights until he got smashed. For a while, it had been fucking magical. Billy had been so free as he sped down the highway, pedal to the floor, radio max volume. It would be his last time in the Camaro, he wanted to make it count. Every red light he passed through safely made him push his baby harder, get more reckless.

The last one he drove through he thought he might make it, like maybe there was something happening where Billy wasn't meant to be hit by a car no matter how hard he tried.

Then Billy got t-boned by an SUV and woke up in Hawkins General Hospital.

It was hard telling how long he had been there, the medicine they kept giving him through an IV made it hard to remember jack shit in general, but Billy thought it had been at least two days. Two days with a cast on his arm, his torso wrapped up in bandages, and Billy didn't even want to see his face. A nurse told him he was lucky, lucky, that he wasn't killed.

Yeah, Billy felt like a real lucky boy laid up in the hospital, by himself, with his most prized possession probably sitting in a junkyard somewhere all in the name of protecting his piece of shit father.

At some point, when Billy was itching for a cigarette and slowly losing his fucking mind, his door peeked open. For a second, a wild and stupid second, Billy thought it might be his mom. Why she would show up seven years too late when he was in the hospital, he didn't know, it was the painkillers making him think stupid shit.

And it was better than his mom anyway - it was his girl.

Sirianna poked her head in and Billy only had a second to see the prettiest green eyes and a flash of a white cheer uniform before she was running straight toward him. Billy would have let her climb right in his bed if she wanted to, but she stopped beside the bed and grabbed his hand instead.

"Billy," Sirianna said his name like a fucking prayer, like he was all she had been thinking about. Billy wasn't going to cry over it or anything, but he liked that, he liked that she was there and she cared.

It was a hell of a lot more than he could say for a single other person in the entire fucking world.

"You're awake, finally." Sirianna bent her head down and the end of her ponytail tickled Billy's face while she - too carefully - kissed him.

"Might be dreamin'," Billy teased her, hating that his voice had a nasty rasp to it. It didn't bother him when all he had were nurses in and out, but Sirianna was different, better. She had been since the day he met her at Hawkins.

She was fucking insane too, but Billy wasn't taking home the gold in sanity himself.

"Yeah? This is what you dream about?" Sirianna pulled a chair up by the bed and sat down in it, like there wasn't plenty of room on the bed. "You in the hospital, me going out of my mind? What were you thinking, Billy? Hopper said you had to be going at least ninety."

Ninety? Billy hit one-ten, it was a record in the Camaro. He still had to swallow hard and look at the door behind Sirianna before he lied to her face.

"Dunno," he said. "Guess I had too much to drink."

That was the party line - stupid, irresponsible Billy. Billy liked to drink, Billy liked to fight, Billy couldn't be trusted behind the wheel of a car. Who would question it?

Aside from Sirianna.

"That's a really good story, baby." Sirianna moved her head so that Billy had to see her gorgeous face while she used ‘baby' against him in the most sarcastic fucking voice. "Except Hopper said you didn't have a drop of alcohol in your body and that it looked like you never even touched your brakes."

Yeah, Billy's favorite thing was his girlfriend living with the only competent cop in the entire fucking county.

Billy didn't say anything until Sirianna started drawing the wrong conclusion.

"Billy…" Sirianna held his arm tightly and Billy hated that her eyes got wet. "Were you - I mean, you weren't trying to - to die?"

"What? Fuck. No. No. Sirianna," Billy couldn't explain fast enough, "no," he emphasized. It hadn't been like that - like, yeah, Billy thought he might not make it through his crazy ass plan, but it hadn't been the goal - just a risk.

"Billy." Sirianna was crying and Billy didn't give a fuck about broken ribs or a punctured spleen, he opened his arms up so she could climb right on the bed and get comfortable wrapped up with him. Billy moved the IV and oxygen tubes that were all over the place until he could hold on the one good thing he had.

"You can't do that." Sirianna had her face in Billy's neck and he thought he must look like shit, she didn't act like he did. She was kissing his neck between her lecture and Billy let her go on because it just felt good to have her there.

"You can't do things like that, you can't just throw your life away. Do you know how important you are? To your sister? To Harry? To me? I don't know if I want to snog you stupid or smack some sense into you."

Billy was all for plan a, but he wasn't going to let her think that Billy had been trying to off himself without so much as a ‘see ya later' to her. Billy was a selfish dick, he wasn't his fucking mom.

"I wasn't trying to die," Billy said, the words feeling like nails clawing through his throat when he said them. "I swear to God, I was just… fucking… I was trying to get to a hospital, alright?"

"You were… what?" Sirianna shuffled back so she could look at Billy's face, like he wanted to look in her eyes when he admitted what he had been doing. "I don't understand?"

That was because, when Billy had to explain it out loud, it sounded fucking stupid. And Sirianna wasn't an idiot, so… yeah, it might not make a lot of sense.

"My wrist was broken and I needed to get it fixed without a lot of questions," Billy said, ignoring the heat that was climbing up his chest to his face. "I was in bad shape, didn't want to be crippled. So I thought… I mean, nobody's thinking Neil had a bad day if I totaled my car."

Billy was breathing kind of harshly, he felt too exposed. Sirianna knew about Neil, knew more than anyone did, it didn't mean Billy wanted to talk about it. But Sirianna lost her parents, lost Benny, lost enough that Billy didn't want her walking around thinking Billy was a person she would lose.

Billy… Billy cared about her. Billy cared that she wasn't fucking terrified or crying over something that didn't happen.

"You… your dad hurt you and you - oh." Sirianna got it, she always did. Billy might be a moron, but at least she seemed to speak his language.

"Billy." Sirianna laid her head on Billy's chest, he tucked his arm around her back to press her tighter to his side. "You're an absolute idiot," she whispered.

Billy snorted, which fucking hurt.

"Don't make me laugh," he warned her. "My ribs are fucked."

"It's not funny," she said, looking up at Billy through her lashes. "You are an idiot, Billy Hargrove. Why didn't you get me? You - you know I could have helped."

"I didn't need a bandaid, kitten." Billy rolled his eyes with some heavy effort, the morphine must have kicked in again because he was getting fuzzy. "I needed a fucking doctor."

"Or…" Sirianna scooted up and Billy thought she was going to kiss him, but she just whispered in his ear instead. "You needed a witch with an incredibly talented wizard for a brother."

That… mother fucker… Billy didn't even think of that. Not even once did he think that Sirianna or her brother could have done shit. And they wouldn't have asked questions, Sirianna would have known and Harry wasn't the question type.

It meant, and Billy might actually choke up over it, that he totaled his Camaro for fucking nothing.

"‘M stupid," Billy said thickly. He closed his eyes and sank down in the bed, comforted by Sirianna still curled up against him. "God damn, I'm a fuckin' idiot."

"You're not." That time Sirianna did kiss Billy's cheek, soft and sweet in what might have been one unbruised patch of skin. "You're just used to doing things alone, but - but you're not alone, Billy. I'm here."

That sounded real nice and Billy didn't mind at all when Sirianna repeated it for him while he got pulled into a painkiller induced nap.

"I'm here" played in a soft background music while Billy surfed on perfect waves of blue and his girl flew high above him in blue skies.

Billy spent a total of seven days in the hospital and it turned out that not a day went by in fucking peace. Sirianna was there every day, bitching at Billy to eat and not snap at nurses when it was time for him to move his muscles around. Max started showing up too, she didn't have much to say but Billy didn't hate her company. Max mostly sat by Billy's bed and glared suspiciously at everyone who walked in the room.

Harry stopped by twice with Sirianna, Billy wasn't sure why. Harry was fine or whatever, but he didn't talk much and Billy didn't usually mind, except he wanted a cigarette and nobody fucking cared.

By the time Billy was being discharged he was down to one cast, the bandages wrapped around his torso to hold his ribs in place, and some sick patches of bruises that painted his left side. It wasn't bad, at least his face was only bruised and there wouldn't be any scarring.

If Billy was going to get fucking discharged. He wasn't eighteen yet, he didn't have a car, and he needed a parent to show up to sign him out. The nurses kept giving him pitiful looks when they thought he couldn't see him while they whispered about x-ray results, old injuries, and how Neil Hargrove never once showed his face at his son's bedside.

Billy preferred that, but he was medically cleared and wanted to leave. All Neil had to do was show up… just fucking once… just show his face, sign a form, and appreciate the fact that Billy covered his bullshit for him.

Neil didn't show up, Sirianna and Chief Hopper did.

Billy was dressed in clothes that Max brought him, his jeans and a cut off shirt that he could wiggle on without fucking with his case. His leg jiggled while he watched the door and the clock at the same time, wondering if Neil really was going to leave his ass to the system. Billy had been discharged at ten, it was nearly five before his door opened and Billy jumped to his feet.

"Billy!" Sirianna was first through the door and Billy nearly smiled when she ran to him. Then he saw who followed her and he stiffened uncomfortably.

Hopper wasn't… terrible… for a cop. Sirianna said he treated her, Harry, and El good. Hopper was polite when he caught Billy over at their place, he didn't make him go home the last couple of times he caught him drinking at the quarry. But if Hopper was there then Billy had the feeling that his life was about to get fucked.

"Billy." Hopper nodded at Billy, like he wasn't standing in Billy's hospital room with his full uniform on. "You got your stuff?"

Billy's stuff? His bloodied clothes they bagged, the Walkman that Max brought him, and the book Sirianna brought him from his locker at school?

Billy lifted the bag in his hand, nodded uncertainly while Sirianna glued herself to his good side.

"Yes, sir," Billy said, torn between not looking away from Hopper and wanting to look down to see if Sirianna would tell him what the fuck was going on.

"Great. Let's go. I fucking hate hospitals."

With that, Hopper turned around and started marching away, leaving Billy to debate his choices quickly. Follow him and get the fuck out, maybe get the cigarette he was dying for, or stand in his room until someone told him why Hopper was there…

Cigarette, definitely.

Plus, Sirianna wasn't exactly quiet. Billy liked to hear her talk, liked it better when she immediately started explaining everything happening for him.

"Hopper said you can stay with us for a few nights," Sirianna said while they followed behind Hopper. "He said you have to sleep on the couch and if he catches us in a bedroom with the door shut that he'll kill us both, but Harry didn't think that was very funny so he said he was just kindly asking that we respected his house."

There was a grin in Sirianna's voice, a glitter of amusement in her eyes. Billy was not going to laugh at the obvious joke, he really wasn't fucking suicidal.

"I think my dad's going to notice that I don't come home," Billy muttered to her, trying to make sure Hopper didn't hear a word. A few more days to get his body in order wouldn't be bad, but Neil wasn't going to fucking forget that Billy existed.

"Mm… so don't be mad…" Sirianna fidgeted beside Billy and he swore she was giving him the biggest damn kitten-like eyes he had ever seen. Billy didn't think he'd be mad at whatever she was about to confess, but he knew it was going to be batshit insane.

"But I really don't think he'll notice you're not there because - because HarrymighthavemadeitsoNeilforgothehadason."

Billy stopped in the hallway and breathed in his nose very fucking slowly while he looked up at the ceiling so Sirianna couldn't bewitch him with her eyes. He exhaled, ignored the fact that it shook pretty bad, and only asked her to repeat herself when he was sure he wouldn't sound affected by it.

"Well… Harry - Harry heard me talking a little about it, to Hopper…"

Great, yeah, Billy loved that.

"And then Harry sort of - he sort of disappeared for a while. I guess, I don't know, I came here. It was before you woke up."

She - she had been there before he woke up? Billy didn't know that, shouldn't have been surprised maybe. That was nice though, that she was there from the start.

"Harry told me what happened and he's sorry, I think - I don't know, he shouldn't be, I would have killed him, Billy. But - but Harry went over to your house…"

Jesus Christ. Billy couldn't even imagine Sirianna's weird as fuck brother just - just walking up to his front door.

"Max said that Harry sort of screamed? She said he was screaming a lot, actually. And then - he sort of exploded. I don't think he meant to do it, Billy, but… but I think he wiped you from Neil's memory. Hopper talked to him every day since then, he's got no idea that he has a son."

Billy tried to understand that, tried to make that make sense to him. Harry went to his house, screamed at Neil, then magicked away his memory of Billy from Neil's mind.

On accident, apparently.

Billy was glad that Sirianna didn't seem to expect an immediate reply while they traveled down to the main floor and followed Hopper outside because it wouldn't have been nice. Billy's first thought was that Harry shouldn't be allowed to walk around if he was just going to ‘explode' and mess with people's minds.

Billy's second thought played on a loop: Neil forgot he existed. Neil forgot he had a son. Neil had no expectations of Billy returning home because Neil didn't know he should.

Neil was always there, Billy's whole life, he was there. When Billy's mom left - left Neil and left Billy with him - Neil was there. When Billy learned to ride a bike and won his first basketball game, Neil had been there. Neil taught Billy how to drive, taught him how to shave, gave him the fucking safe sex talk once.

And Neil wouldn't remember any of that.

Billy clamped his mouth shut hard and didn't say anything when the three of them piled in the police cruiser parked by the door. Sirianna took the middle seat, Billy had to roll his window down to get some air.

Sirianna passed Billy a cigarette when Hopper pulled away from the hospital and Billy didn't say thank you, couldn't risk saying a word.

Because Harry took all those memories, every memory that Billy himself couldn't recall - potty training and Billy's first tooth fairy visit and the Father's Day when Billy gave Neil the ugly mug that still sat on a bookcase - were gone. Billy didn't need to ask if it was permanent, he had seen Harry and Sirianna both use magic before, they didn't do anything half-assed.

Billy's chest felt tight and he wondered if he shouldn't ask the Chief to turn right back around in case he was having a heart attack.

Harry also… he fucking… he — Billy didn't have to go back. Harry took every good moment between Billy and Neil away from Neil and he took Billy away from him too.

Billy didn't have to go back. Billy - fuck. Billy had nowhere to go back to. Harry made Billy as much of a fucking orphan as he was. Neil was alive, walking around and living his life, and Billy had no parent left at all.

It was hot, even with the cold air coming in through the window, and the nicotine had Billy feeling lightheaded, nauseous. He was sweating, his teeth were chattering, and that made about as much sense as anything else.

God. What the fuck did he do? What did he do?! Billy could have dealt with it for one more year, that was it, just one year. Then he would have been free, been fine. Harry didn't help him, he made him a fucking orphan with nowhere to turn.

Billy didn't have his car, didn't have much in the way of savings, didn't have his dad, didn't have a fucking home.

"Billy, please… please look at me." Sirianna's voice was shaking and Billy wanted to reassure her, comfort her, but he was shaking and everything in his chest was cracking slowly - falling to pieces and it couldn't just yet. Not in the car. Not by Sirianna. Not with Hopper driving and pretending like he wasn't watching Billy freak the fuck out in the passenger seat.

Neil didn't remember teaching Billy to shoot three-pointers, he didn't remember teaching Billy how to take a punch without falling. Neil wouldn't remember when Billy won a surfing tournament in Cali, wouldn't remember the first time he took a belt to Billy's back.

Billy.

Billy was the only one who would remember those things.

Billy was the only one who remembered his mom, remembered the days they spent at the beach and the day she left him with the monster that she had married. And Billy was the only one who was going to remember when Neil stopped being ‘Dad' and became ‘Neil'.

Hopper parked the car and they must have been at their place, Billy didn't know, couldn't look. Billy was thinking of every single memory he had with Neil that Neil would never remember. Seventeen years worth of memories - gone.

Someone tossed a pack of cigarettes on Billy's lap, had to be Hopper, and Billy sat in the passenger seat of his cruiser and struggled to light a new cigarette one handed while the freedom he always craved suddenly felt like imprisonment.

Billy was never going to feel Neil's hand cracking across his face again, he would never feel his dad's hand on his shoulder when Billy won a basketball game. Neil would never call him a faggot, tell him what a disappointment he was for a son; Dad would never cheer ‘That's my boy!' when Billy made a sick score or when he passed his driver's test on the first try.

It was all gone and Billy's walls did crack, they crumbled and broke, and Sirianna sat beside him in silence while Billy had felt sick from the rush of freedom and the crushing pain that it brought.

Billy didn't sleep that night, he only managed to leave the police cruiser when Sirianna pulled him to the front porch and wrapped him in a blanket on the little porch bench. They split the pack of cigarettes and Sirianna apologized for Harry again when the sun started to rise.

"Billy, he's so sorry," Sirianna whispered with her arms around Billy's body, holding him together after watching him fall apart for hours. "I don't know why he went there, but I know he didn't mean to hurt you."

Billy knew that, he knew that Sirianna's little baby bird of a brother wouldn't have been trying to hurt Billy. If the shoe were on the other foot, if Hopper had kicked Harry's ass, Billy would have done something. If Billy had a loaded weapon in his pocket, it might have gone off.

"I know," Billy said roughly. Sirianna had already seen him fucking bawling, she let him bury his face in her lap when he couldn't even sit up straight. It was embarrassing and it was over, it was all over. Billy's arm was starting to burn and there was a bottle of pills in his bag that he could take if he wanted to make it stop aching for a few hours. He should, he needed to, but it was a low priority.

"What do I do?" Billy asked, looking out at the sunset and wishing he could turn back time. When was the last time he had hugged his dad? Heard that he loved him? Did Neil have time to feel badly about Billy's injuries before he forgot what he did?

Was Billy the last thing he thought of before he couldn't think of him again?

"What the fuck do I do now?"

No car. No home. No parent.

Billy had nothing.

And it was freedom and it was terrifying.

"You come inside, you take your medicine, get some sleep and food and - and we figure it out when you wake up." Sirianna tipped her head over slowly, like maybe Billy would shove her away. "Together," she added.

So Billy didn't have nothing, he had his girl.

Sirianna was bossy, even when she was acting timid around Billy for an annoying hour. Sirianna helped him inside her place, got him set up on the couch with a drink and one of his Vicodin. She brought him food and Billy would have grinned at the little domestic scene if he thought he could grin.

Then she started acting weird and Billy had to throw a dirty sock at her to make her knock it off.

"I'm not pissed at Harry, I'm not pissed at you," he said. Sirianna wasn't hard to read, it was guessing the reason behind her mood shift that sometimes left Billy unsure. It was clear as fuck then and Billy wasn't even lying to her. He wasn't mad, he was shocked and he was fucking crawling out of his skin with something real close to fear - he wasn't mad.

"I'm gonna be pissed if you don't come sit with me," Billy said. He wasn't planning on sleeping yet, he was going to eat enough of the food Sirianna brought him so she didn't bitch then he just wanted someone to hold on to.

"You smell bad," Sirianna said even while her nervous twitching ended and she sat on the couch and scooted around so she could curl in Billy's side like a cat.

"Yeah?" Billy raised his arm, forced a grin when Sirianna made an exaggerated noise at what probably was some ripe B.O.

"Ugh. Sleep, then shower," she complained.

"Mm…" Billy wasn't hungry, not with the medicine kicking in and making him feel warm and relaxed. He turned his legs and still managed to pick Sirianna's little ass up with one arm. She huffed when he swung his ‘stinky' legs up on the couch and moved them both around until he was comfortably laying down and she was laying across his chest.

"It's hard to shower one handed," he said quietly, whispered it in her ear just to feel her blush against his cheek. "Might be easier with some help."

Billy didn't mean it, didn't want her to see him undressed until he looked more human and less of a walking bruise, Billy just wanted to hold her tight and feel normal for half of a second.

Sirianna didn't disappoint, she never did. Billy didn't know if she sometimes thought she needed to hold someone or she'd die or if her magic powers just told her when Billy needed it, but she curled up against him and everything just felt right for a moment.

"I missed you," she whispered to him.

Billy tightened his hold on her and closed his eyes, okay enough - high enough - to sleep for a little while.

"Missed you," he whispered. Billy had missed her when he had been in the hospital, when she had to go to school or sleep, but she was there and he was there and Billy hoped she didn't get sick of him anytime soon because he didn't have a single other place to be.

Billy also hoped she didn't get sick of him anytime soon because he loved her, but he didn't say that because it might have been the Vicodin doing his thinking for him.

It took Billy one day in the Hopper-Potter-whatever-the-fuck-El's-last-name-was House for Billy to realize what was missing. And, yeah, maybe one day was a little too long for him to notice it, but he didn't wake up until noon and then got bitched at to take a shower, eat, and take his medicine.

"Where's Harry?" Billy asked Sirianna and Harry's sort-of-sibling El his question when Sirianna got distracted by a call from Chrissy Cunningham and El followed Billy outside so he could smoke. Chief Hopper must have left before Billy woke up, thank fuck, but Harry hadn't made an appearance at all as far as Billy knew.

"Steve," El said, a one word explanation. Billy snorted, winced when it pulled on his ribs.

Steve Harrington and Harry's gay as fuck ‘friendship' was Billy's primary source of entertainment most days. Billy thought it was going to be a drag when Sirianna made him swear to stop fucking with Harrington, Billy especially wasn't allowed to say a word about Harrington switching up the team he batted for.

Then Harrington and Harry started their weird fucking dance around each other and Billy decided it was the best thing he had ever witnessed. ‘King Steve' who had so many bitches tripping over themselves to impress him, and so many chicks who claimed they had melted over his flirtations, was awkward. Harrington was the most awkward fucking human being and Harry was the most oblivious.

It was hilarious most of the time.

Billy figured they were on one of their dates, until El - such a chatterbox that day - added a second word to her explanation.

"Hiding."

Billy thought about that while he smoked, thought about El's simple statement and the way that she said more in one word than most people did in fifty. Harry was like that too and Harry was hiding, hiding out at Harrington's place because Billy was at his.

Nah, fuck that.

"Tell Sirianna I'm going to get her brother," Billy said, dropping his cigarette and crushing it beneath his boot. "And then," Billy winked at El, knew she would tell Sirianna exactly what he said and it would be fucking hilarious, "tell her that she should make a cake or something for dinner. She makes too many vegetables."

El nodded, serious as fuck all, and Billy grinned to himself as he started the walk toward Harrington's place.

Sirianna would be pissy, she would have wanted to go with him, but Billy figured that he and Harry had some shit to clear up between them and they didn't need Sirianna getting involved.

It was a decent walk out to Harrington's place and Billy wasn't a bitch, Billy was in great shape, but his ribs were burning like mother fuckers when he finally reached the driveway. It was making him wheeze, pissing him off, and Billy leaned against a tree at the end of the drive to light a cigarette and to breathe for a minute before he found Harry.

The weather wasn't bad at least, which was good since Billy didn't exactly have an abundance of his clothes to choose from. He hoped that Max found a way to bag his shit up before Neil got real confused and threw it all away. He'd like his clothes, his box of important stuff, all his records.

Max… Billy shook his head, wondered what it was like for her to live in a house where Neil didn't know there was someone missing. Was Max's mom Susan just going with it? Did she assume that Neil was writing Billy off entirely? How much even changed for Susan and Max with Billy gone?

Max had been at the hospital a few times when Billy had been, Billy didn't know why she didn't tell him a thing about Neil's new memory impairment. Unless Sirianna told her to let her break the news, maybe Sirianna knew Billy would hold himself in check around her.

Yeah, that made sense. Still, Billy had a shitload of questions for the shitbird when he saw her next.

Billy finished half of his cigarette by the time he caught his breath and he made himself walk straight, he didn't bend over like he wanted to do. If Harry or Harrington were outside, Billy didn't want them to see him hobbling down the driveway. It was bad enough he still had the cast that covered him from elbow to fingertips on his left arm.

And, for fuck's sake, what kind of rich douches had a driveway so long? It never seemed so long when Billy would drive down it, but walking down it was pissing him off. Harrington's parents had more money than common fucking sense.

Billy almost walked directly to the front door, he nearly didn't see what was sticking out of the two car garage attached to Harrington's house. If it wasn't for the sun reflecting back at him for a second, just long enough to get his attention, Billy might have missed it…

He might have missed his car sitting in Harrington's garage, in perfect fucking condition.

Billy changed course as quickly as he could and practically stumbled when he got close enough to see his baby, his first real love, sitting there without so much as a scratch on her. Billy started running his hands all down her side, looked at the pristine license plate, saw that even the antenna wasn't bent. She was perfect, beautiful, just as flawlessly blue as the day that Billy bought her.

How the fuck…?

Billy hurried to the driver's door, almost childishly eager to see if the inside was fixed - if the airbags were repaired, if there was his blood soaking the interior - when he saw a door inside the garage, probably connecting to the house, open.

They didn't see him at first which meant that Billy saw how relaxed Harry and Harrington were around each other, Billy saw the light smile on Harrington's face and the way that Harry seemed to purposefully brush their arms together when they walked out in the garage.

It also meant that Billy got to see the second they noticed him, the second that their relaxed postures became stiff and Billy hated that he recognized that switch, hated that it was being aimed at him. Billy didn't even want to see Harrington go from at ease to strained, his eyes locked on Billy's hands, his muscles tensed for a fight.

Fuck. Was that who Billy had become? His fucking father?

"Hey." Billy nodded at Harry and if he was a little wheezy, nobody noticed. "You fixed my car?" he asked, a solid guess since only literal magic could have repaired the Camaro back to her original glory.

Harry nodded his head, a silent and jerky movement, and Billy pushed down the sharp stab of annoyance he felt when Harrington scooted over, like he needed to block Harry from Billy's sight. When had Billy fucking ever screwed with Harry? Not one fucking time.

How many times had Harry's magic and the way he couldn't seem to fucking control it screwed with Billy's life? Did Billy ever fucking retaliate? No.

Still… Billy's car was repaired and Billy might be the only one who remembered every interaction he had with Neil, but it didn't mean he was his father.

"It looks fucking amazing," Billy said, turning his head so he could look at the car, not force Harry to look at him. "You could open a shop, people would pay thousands for restorations like this."

"You're not… mad?" Harry stepped around Steve, Billy could see him in the reflection of the glass. Was Billy mad? Yeah, he wasn't fucking thrilled. It would have been ideal if Harry never walked his ass over to Billy's place, never said a word to Neil or put himself within ten feet of him.

But Billy wasn't there to kick Harry's ass, Billy didn't even want to argue with him. Harry - Harry was kinda screwed up in the head, it would be like yelling at a kicked puppy for biting someone for kicking it. Or something like that. Whatever.

Billy wasn't thrilled, but he wasn't pissed. Billy was fucking tired, tired and still thrilled to see his prized possession looking better than ever.

"Nah," Billy said. He shrugged, and fuck that hurt too. "I came to tell you that your sister wants you home and I guess I can give you a ride."

Billy had more to say, nothing he wanted to say in front of Harrington. Billy was ready to drive too, pumped to see if the Camaro drove as well as it did before. Sure, it would be a bitch with his left arm in a cast, but Billy didn't mind.

"Oh." Harry's hesitation was clear and Billy made his face blank, didn't so much as let an eyebrow twitch out of place when he turned back to him.

"Oh?" Billy repeated.

"There's no gas," Harrington said quickly, stepping up with his hands at his sides. "Harry just finished fixing it, you can't drive it yet."

Gas? That was it? Fuck. Billy thought maybe Harry blew the engine up when he did the rest of Billy's life. Gas was no big deal, Billy could walk to town and - and… Jesus fucking Christ, he didn't even have any money.

"You also probably shouldn't drive with your arm in a cast either," Harrington went on, rambling like a dumbass. "I can drive you guys back though, it's not a big deal. I would have given Harry a ride anyway."

Billy said it in his head since he gave Sirianna his word to not fuck with Harrington anymore - he bet that he would have given Harry a ride, anytime and anyplace probably. Harrington was fucking wrapped around Harry's finger.

"Yeah, swell," Billy said, wheezing a little too much to pull off the sarcasm he meant to dip his words in. He looked his car over again, silently promised to be back for her the second he got a gas can, and then let Harrington drive him back to Sirianna's place.

Harry, for whatever reason, started to take the back seat - as if Billy was there to dispute his claim on Harrington's passenger seat.

"I can sit back here," Billy said. He wasn't going to win a race against Harry for it, probably wouldn't win an arm wrestling match over it, but Harry nodded before going for the front seat.

The back seat was better anyway, Billy could twist his legs up on the seat and bend over to try and fix the fucking miserable ache in his side. Jesus, how did ribs hurt more than his arm?

"Mother fucker," Billy swore loud when Harrington hit a fucking pot hole in the driveway and it felt like he had ran Billy himself over.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Harrington was watching him in the rearview mirror and Billy knew he made a sorry fucking sight, it didn't stop him from flipping Steve off with his good hand.

"Can you - stop, hold on?" Harry asked Harrington, twisting around to look at Billy. "Billy, I - I can… I can fix that?"

"Fix what?" Billy snapped, more harshly than he meant. But fuck, everything hurt and Billy was a moron. Why the fuck he decided to walk across town when he wasn't even supposed to be lifting anything over five pounds was beyond him. That was his reward for feeling so bad that he had ran Harry out of his own fucking house.

"Your bones?"

Billy bent over hard and pushed his face in his knees to keep his eyes hidden from Harrington and Harry both. He was not going to cry over some broken bones, he was not. Billy squeezed his eyes shut and bit his tongue while he tried to decide which was worse - looking fucking pathetic in Harrington's backseat with some busted bones or risking having his entire memory wiped if Harry fucked up.

Looking pathetic, definitely. It might… hell, Billy might prefer if Harry wiped his memory. Billy didn't want to be the only one to remember Neil, his mom, every word and day that could never be taken back anymore. He could wake up a new person, someone who didn't know how much shit he could take before he broke or how long it would take him to get his own pieces together.

"Yeah, great," Billy managed to get out. "Let's do this."

Since Harrington didn't even make it out of the driveway, Harry told him to help get Billy in what looked like a fucking guest house by the pool since it was closer than the main house. Billy didn't need help walking, he swatted his hand at Harrington when he looked like he was going to try.

"Fuckin… rich…" Billy panted, forcing himself to walk toward the little house and insult Harrington at the same time. Every step was shooting flames through his torso and Billy would rather just lay on the ground and let Harry do his magic crap outside.

"Almost there," Harry said quietly, matching his pace to Billy's.

Billy didn't tell Harry to fuck off, but damn if it wasn't close. Billy focused on getting inside the little house and collapsing on the couch inside. At least the couch was nice, plush and comfortable, the sort of shit only really rich people would buy then stick in a dusty guest house.

"Can you take your shirt off?" Harry asked, kneeling down beside Billy and looking him over with his creepy fucking eyes. Sirianna's eyes were gorgeous, like fucking jewels on her face, Harry's eyes were too… something. Too intense at times when other times they were glazed over in disinterest.

"Your sister's not gonna like you askin' me to strip," Billy said, hiding his groan when he had to roll around and take his shirt back off. It left him feeling too exposed, too naked with Harrington and Harry both staring at him.

"Is that a fucking…" Harrington stepped toward Billy and Billy really hoped he knew that Billy would beat his ass if he didn't get back. Not then, but the second he was on his feet again he would. Harrington kind of pointed at Billy's side and Billy lifted his head to see what had him looking green.

Ah, yeah, that bruise didn't look like a boot print when Billy saw it last, but the other bruises fading had made it stand out some.

"I thought you were in a wreck!"

"I thought you liked keeping your teeth in your fucking mouth."

"Can you both… shut up?" Harry wasn't focusing on any suspicious bruises, he had his hands over Billy's ribs. "Billy, please don't move."

No problem there, Billy didn't want to —

"MOTHER FUCKER!!" Billy screamed like a girl when Harry zapped some heat in Billy's torso and it felt like it was charring his fucking bones. It was gone before he finished screaming and even if Billy didn't move, he felt every single one of his ribs snapping in place.

And then, for the first time in over a week, Billy could breathe.

"And your arm, don't move it," Harry said again. Billy had one second to brace himself for the same heat before his arm was on fire - burning - then gone. It was gone, the pain.

Billy could breathe and his arm wasn't throbbing and when the heat disappeared Billy started laughing. Billy moved his left arm around in the heavy cast he didn't need and he twisted his torso around and he laughed and laughed until the laughter broke into a sob he couldn't control because Harry fixed it, him.

Harry took Billy's dad, fixed everything else.

Magic was fucking ridiculous.

Harry and Steve scrammed quick when the bones were fixed and Steve tossed out a comment behind him that he could find a saw for the cast to be removed. Billy didn't say anything, couldn't have if he wanted to. Billy curled up on the couch without any pain and cried until it became laughter again.

Everything was fucked.

At some point, when Billy was calming down and starting to feel like a complete dumbass, Sirianna was there. Sirianna pulled Billy over to her lap and let Billy cuddle on her like he was a little kid. She stroked his hair and Billy leaned in her touch that was so sweet, so soft, gentle.

"Everything's going to be okay," Sirianna murmured to him, like a fairytale to a child desperate to believe in them. "This is a lot, Billy, it's so much. But you're amazing and you're going to be okay, I know it. You're so strong, baby, the strongest person I know."

Billy didn't point out that he couldn't keep his fucking emotions under control, he didn't want Sirianna to stop believing Billy was better than he was.

"My dad's gone," Billy said, tasting the words that he used to have nightmares over, the words that he used to pray would come true. "He's gone, Sirianna. I can't - I've got nowhere to go now."

Billy had his car, and that might work out. Not great, not long-term, but as soon as the Chief told him to get off his couch and out of his house, it could work.

"That's not true." Sirianna bent her head so she could kiss the side of Billy's head. "People care about you, Billy. People who actually want you to be happy care about you."

She meant person, one person. Just her.

Billy didn't say that either though, he just let her hold him until the itch under his cast couldn't be ignored and he figured he should start figuring life out. Pity parties could only last so long and Billy needed to get on his feet, man up, figure shit out.

"Have you talked to Max?" Billy made himself pull away from Sirianna so he could stand up. He was sore, but not in pain, it was all tolerable soreness that he knew would be gone in another day or two. "I gotta get my stuff."

"Yes, she's bringing your stuff later." Sirianna took Billy's hand when offered and stood up. Her eyes fell to the bruise that had Harrington turning green and she didn't get pitying, not his girl, her eyes flashed with hot anger. "I was going to kill him," she said quietly, her fingertip tracing the bruise on Billy's side. "That's what Harry overhead, I had - I stole Hopper's gun, I was going to kill Neil."

God damn, Billy - he loved her, alright? Billy fucking loved his batshit insane beautiful girl who said crazy shit like some people talked about the weather.

"Kitten." Billy groaned and smirked down at Sirianna when he pulled her right up against him. "Don't get me going right now, I'm not going to fuck you with a cast on."

Sirianna giggled until Billy kissed her, she giggled until Billy tried to say all the shit he didn't say in a kiss. Billy was grateful as fuck for her, obsessed with her, terrified to lose her. All of that in one kiss.

It took them a few minutes, but Billy thought he got the message through.

Harry and Harrington were waiting by the pool when Billy and Sirianna walked out. Harrington immediately tossed Billy a shirt, one of his, and Billy held it up for a second before deciding to just put it on.

"You know baby bird was all over me, right?" Billy told Sirianna, screwing with Harrington and Harry both to break the tension. "Oh yeah, he had his hands all over my body, telling me to strip."

"He was not!" Harrington huffed, blushing like a damn girl.

"Oh, Harry. How could you?" Sirianna rolled her eyes and was about as sarcastic as a person could be. "My very own brother, betraying me so terribly."

Yeah, Billy loved her.

"I - I was healing him," Harry said, his own cheeks turning pink like maybe he was picking up innuendos finally. "That was it."

"And just for that." Harrington grabbed a hack saw laying beside the pool chair he laid on and slid it over to Billy. "You can take your own cast off."

Yeah, because Billy would have let anyone else take a saw to his fucking arm.

They all followed Billy to Harrington's garage so Billy could find a place to work. There was a table that would work and Billy smacked his cast up there and thanked God that he was right handed anyway.

"I hit skin and Harry better fix it," Billy warned them. He gave Sirianna a quick grin, "And I could really use a smoke here."

"You are an idiot and I'm not sharing cigarettes with you until you're done proving your stupidity," Sirianna said.

Idiot or not, Billy was about to have two arms again.

Billy sawed at the cast for a solid ten minutes, hacking every few minutes from the dust that the plaster flew up in his face. It shook the hell out of his arm and would have hurt like a bitch if the bones were still broken. It felt good though, finally getting something to force all his tension into.

And when Billy cut it through enough that he could pry his arm from it, he let out a triumphant laugh.

"Yes!" Billy spun around and showed Sirianna both of his perfectly working arms. "How's that for an idiot?"

"About right." Sirianna was grinning even while she mocked him and she passed a cigarette over without a complaint, just one last insult. "Harry could have made that cast disappear in a second."

That… son of a bitch.

"Maybe I wanted to destroy it myself," Billy said, suddenly giddy with his freedom. No cast on his arms, no busted ribs to keep him from breathing right, no - no Neil to mess it all back up in a day or two. Billy had two arms, healed ribs, his car, his girl… it was more than he had the day before, maybe less than he would have in another day.

What if every day Billy gained something else - his stuff, some gas, a job… every day Billy could add something that didn't suck to his day.

It almost made him laugh again.

"Maybe you're an idiot." Sirianna was smiling, that thousand fucking watt smile that Billy loved.

"Maybe you two should get a room…" Harrington sighed and when Billy spared him a look, he was smiling too for some reason.

"Can't, Sirianna has a bunk bed and the Chief said to not sully his sofa," Billy drawled, his mood too high to even care that it was Harrington that he was bantering with.

"I mean…" Harrington fished in his pocket for a second and then pulled out a gold key on a little loop of blue rope. He tossed it to Billy and Billy caught it one handed - with his perfectly working left hand.

"There's a room out there," Harrington pointed behind Billy and Billy knew what he was pointing at, at the pool house where Billy had his breakdown. "And, uh…" Harrington ran his hand through his hair, glanced over at Harry, shrugged nervously. "Nobody's using it."

Billy twirled the key around his finger, looking at Harrington, Harry, then Sirianna to see if they were fucking with him. The twins were looking at him seriously, so probably not a joke. Might have even - might have been something they planned.

"You're serious?" Billy asked, his voice dropping with uncertainty.

Harrington shrugged again, his hand fluttering at his side and giving away his nerves.

"Yeah, man, it's just sitting there. I thought you could use your own space."

Billy snorted, wondered if Harrington thought that before or after he saw the boot print on Billy's side. He looked down at the key, wondered what the catch was.

"So it's charity?" Billy asked, the world bubbling like acid in his stomach. Poor Billy, wrecked his car. Poor Billy, got the shit beat out of him by his dad. Poor Billy, no parents left and no home at all.

"Billy…"

"Nah," Steve cut off Sirianna and Billy had to admire that kind of bravery. "It's just a place to crash, there's a bathroom, kitchen. You could do your own thing for a while, it's not charity."

Billy considered that, turned around to look at the little house sitting by the pool as he rolled his shoulders, letting the idea settle on him. It was probably charity, but - but was Billy in a great place to turn it away?

Everyone stayed real quiet while Billy came to a decision and he nodded once, slow and deliberate.

"When I get a job, I'm paying rent," Billy said, pocketing the key before anyone could take it. "And I don't want to hear you cry when you get sick of me after two hours, Harrington."

"I don't know what job you'd find that would compensate for putting up with you," Harrington fired back, something real close to a grin tugging at his lips. "C'mon, Harry, let's go get gas so Hargrove can move this piece of shit out of my garage and in his parking spot."

"Piece of shit?" If Billy had something to throw, he would have. All he could do was point at Harrington threateningly. "That car's a fucking beauty and you know it."

"That's because you didn't see it all crushed up and ruined," Harrington said. He bumped Harry's shoulder with his and the tension that had been building disappeared. "Come on, we'll grab Max and El and some pizza too."

"Tell Max to grab my stuff!" Billy yelled after them. "I'm not wearing your clothes forever, Harrington!"

Harrington flipped him off, Billy returned the gesture, and Sirianna laughed.

"I give it one week before you and Steve are the best of friends," she said brightly as she took Billy's hand to pull him toward the guest house - his place.

"You," Billy scooped her up because he could, because his bones weren't broken and Billy wasn't homeless, "are a fucking idiot," he said.

Sirianna laughed and Billy softened at the genuine happiness she shined with. It was for him, that happiness.

"I'm your idiot," she said.

"Yeah," Billy carried her toward the little house in his arms, thanked God that she continued putting up with his shit, "you are."

It took a few days, but Billy settled in Harrington's extra place. Max brought him his stuff, didn't talk about Neil, helped him put clothes in drawers and records on a shelf. Sirianna stayed from sun up to sun down all weekend, cleaning and organizing like her life depended on it. Harry and Harrington popped in and out with El, but they didn't stay long.

It was… it was good.

Billy could drive his car, put an application in for a few after school jobs. Chief Hopper passed along a message that Billy's absence had been excused for medical reasons and that he needed to (Sirianna quoted) ‘get his ass back to school Monday morning'.

Which didn't explain why Billy was getting drunk on Sunday night, watching a western on the TV that he didn't give a crap about. It was kind of cold at night in there, Billy thought he might invest in a heater as soon as he had money rolling in.

"Knock, knock." Harrington knocked on the door briefly before looking in at Billy with a crooked grin that seemed half-nerves. "Can I come in?"

It was his house, technically. Billy shrugged, scooted over to make room on the sofa. There were still half a dozen beers left and Harrington grabbed one before he sat on the opposite end of the couch from Billy.

"Here." Harrington tossed a bag on Billy's lap, a big squishy bag from Melvards. Billy put his drink on the side table, warily checked in the bag. He couldn't figure out what it was at first, but he pulled out a giant ass navy blue blanket, a real soft one that he shook out while he tried to find a response for.

Billy would have said thanks, even if he didn't ask for an extra blanket, but then something fuzzy and pink fell out of the bundle and it distracted him.

"Are those… socks?" Billy stretched out to grab them and wanted to laugh over them. They were chick socks, fuzzy pink socks, in what had to be men's sizes.

"Oh my God." Harrington groaned and threw his head back dramatically. "I told Harry to find some comfortable socks, ‘cause it gets cold as fuck out here sometimes. I said ‘oh Billy can just grab an empty bedroom if it's too cold' and Sirianna said ‘he'll freeze to death before he takes a bedroom'. So I tried to find a heater and Joyce said she didn't have any in stock, but I figured a blanket and socks would work until her next truck came in. I didn't - I don't know why Harry went with pink."

Billy processed Harrington's ramble in stages - piece by piece. He was annoyed at first, didn't like being a topic of conversation, then - then he was just amused. Because Harry would do something like grab pink socks. The kid didn't even match his clothes right half of the time.

"Nice," Billy said. He popped the tags off the socks, tossed a pair over to Harrington. It wasn't like he had socks on either, if Billy was going to look stupid he'd be damned if it was by himself. Billy handed over the blanket Max brought him from home - not home - to Harrington too so he could wrap up in the new one.

"I draw the line at sharing blankets," Billy said, a joke more than anything.

"Aww, we aren't going to cuddle and talk about how we're becoming best friends?" Harrington asked, the grin on his face making that a joke too. "Cause that's what your girlfriend seems to think is going to happen."

Billy shook his head and plopped his newly socked feet up on the coffee table beside Harrington's then took his beer back to finish off.

"Yeah, Queen Steve, let me get drunk before we start braiding each others hair and having girl talk though," Billy drawled.

Harrington laughed and Billy relaxed on the couch, comfortable enough to get quiet while cowboys shot each other on the TV.

It wasn't much, the small life Billy was building, but he seemed to add something to it every day.