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angrydemonfawnbaby · 2 years

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the sauna test remix (part 1/?)

s3 au where steve is working as a lifeguard and spends the whole season trying to save billy hargrove.

steve’s been driving max and her friends around ever since the snowball dance, so he knows more about her step-brother than he likes to admit. maybe that’s why he is trying so hard to be civil, to be friendly, to be friends, even--because steve doesn’t have good and loving parents, so he knows what it looks like when someone else has bad parents. he sees it in the mirror every day. he sees it on max’s face when she talks about neil hargrove, has started seeing it sometimes when she talks about her own mom. when he takes the time to look hard enough, steve sees it on billy too. the moment he sees it on the other boy, steve can’t stop seeing it.

(he remembers seeing him in the hall at school after their fight. billy was battered and blue beyond recognition, bruised in places steve knows he never touched him.)

steve is trying to be civil, to be friendly, to maybe even be friends--because steve used to be more like billy than he cares to admit. so he invites billy to hang out at his house after work one day in july and that’s the start of it.

billy never worked morning shifts at the pool because he liked to stay after hours to swim. steve knows this because he forgot his wallet in his locker one day back in early june. he went back to get it that night and saw billy doing laps in the empty pool even though the pool closed hours ago. when steve came out of the locker room, billy was floating like a five point star in the center of the pool, staring up at the night sky. steve didn’t say anything, didn’t want to step on what seemed like a sacred moment, but as he tried to stealthily slip away, billy splashed out of water and saw him. steve froze for some reason. billy just stared at him, like he was waiting for steve to speak first. steve held up his wallet. billy blinked, barely an acknowledgement, and set off to the showers without a second glance.

but the last week of june, billy walked into the breakroom while steve was sighing over the schedule. heather was hardly listening to him as he mentioned the migraines he’d been suffering from for months now, how he’s been waiting for this specific appointment with some specialist for six months now, how if he reschedules now he’ll be stuck waiting until winter to be seen. heather’s half hidden behind her magazine and only halfway sympathetic as she shrugs, says she wishes she could help but she’s already on for a double that day, best of luck finding someone.

for all the obvious reasons, billy hargrove wasn’t steve’s first choice for coverage. for some reason, he’s the first to offer.

heather hasn’t looked up from flipping through her fashion magazine once throughout this whole thing. however, the second billy says he’ll swap shifts with steve, heather’s fingers freeze and she finally looks up at the two of them through her lashes like she’s watching a her favorite show. steve stammers out a suspicious thanks that sounds more like a question than anything genuine. billy doesn’t say anything back but scribbles over their names on the schedule and flicks the pen cap at steve before leaving the breakroom.

steve sits staring into space with a stunned look on his face until heather snaps her gum. she raises an eyebrow at him and there’s a look in her eye--like she’s trying to read his mind and he’s supposed to try to read hers, too. after a second of this, she sits back with a satisfied smirk as if she’s just learned all of steve’s secrets.

for the next week, steve spends way too much of his time wondering about the whys and whether or not this all some sort of scheme. he shows up to the pool that afternoon half expecting to hear that billy bailed this morning just to make him look bad, but there he is.

he’s up to his waist in the shallow water, trying to convince a kid in his swim class to let go of the ledge. he gets eye level with the little holly wheeler and whatever he whispers to her works. one small hand and then the other leaves the security of wall, trusting billy to keep her safe as he takes her hands in his. steve has seen this before but he still stays to watch until little holly wheeler is laughing, her little legs kick, kick, kicking water up high into the sky. steve stays to watch even though he’s seen this before because billy is beaming and that’s not exactly new either, but it is...something.

maybe that’s why steve says it. they’re in the locker room, steve storing his stuff away for the day while billy gets ready to go home. steve thanks him again even though he knows billy won’t say anything back. ever since the byers, billy doesn’t seem to have a whole lot to say to steve, anymore.

it shouldn’t matter to steve, it shouldn’t bother him, but it does. steve doesn’t know what billy must think of him after that night, but he knows it can’t be anything good. not after his thirteen year old sister went missing all day only for billy to find her with steve at a strangers house, only for steve to lie right to his face about it. this whole situation, harrington, it’s giving me the heebie jeebies. steve shouldn’t care what billy hargrove thinks about him, but he does.

so maybe that’s why he says it, even though he knows billy won’t say anything back. maybe that’s why he keeps talking, even after he’s said thanks for the third time. he tries to sound as casual as he can when he mentions billy missing out on his after hours swim because of him. billy’s eyebrows raise anyway. steve stutters to a stop, starts to reconsider, swipes his hands through his hair and starts over. its not smooth at all. he awkwardly offers up his parents’ pool for billy to use.

steve’s parents are spending the summer somewhere less humid than hawkins. he couldn't get into college, so steve has spent the summer sitting at home alone. he hasn’t had anyone his own age over since he stopped hanging out with tommy hagan. steve hasn’t had friends his own age since then, either.

so maybe that’s why he invites billy hargrove over to his house. there’s a bar in the basement but if bourban isn’t billy’s thing than steve knows that the beer store off of 8th street doesn’t card anyone who can see over the counter. it starts to sound like a bribe and he’s starting to regret speaking at all when billy agrees. steve knows his surprise shows by the way billy’s smirk goes from bemused to amused.

billy says he’ll be over at eight.

steve smiles. can’t wait.

it shouldn’t be a surprise that billy doesn’t show. it shouldn’t hurt, but it does.

steve drinks his half of the twelve pack he had to pay double price and then he drinks the half that was supposed to be for billy, too. he goes to bed sick and sad and if he cries himself to sleep, it’s not over billy hargroe. or at least, it’s not only over him.

he tries to play it cool at the pool the next day, but steve’s annoyed and hungover and it gets the better of him briefly when he follows billy into the supply closet. he has every intention to finally confront billy about everything, but the second the door swings shut behind him, steve can sense something is off. billy’s body is stiff. his hair is a sweaty mess. he won’t turn around. steve reaches out to touch his shoulder but before he can billy is shoving past him. stay away from me, steve.

it shouldn’t hurt, but it does. it shouldn’t raise alarms, but it does.

steve follows him out and stands at a safe distance while billy stumbles his way to the showers. he doesn’t follow billy in but he leans against a nearby wall, wondering if maybe he’s gotten it all wrong. maybe he is just paranoid now. it would make sense after everything. maybe billy is just sweating because it’s summer. maybe he’s sick. maybe he really just wants nothing to do with steve. it would make sense after everything. maybe steve should just let it go.

he’s about to walk away when the screaming starts.

steve finds him soaking wet and sobbing on the shower floor. billy’s bloodshot blue eyes are barely focused. steve knows that something is very, very wrong--even before billy lunges for his throat.

he has experienced billy’s brutality before, but this...this is something else. billy is fueled by fire and by fury but the hands around steve’s neck are cold as ice. there is no light in his eyes as he watches steve struggle to break free, struggle to breathe. there’s no humanity but there is an eerie familiarity. this isn’t billy, this is something else entirely.

steve can’t breathe. billy has him half-suspended so that steve’s feet are barely touching the floor, held up only by billy’s bare hands around his throat. steve’s vision starts to go and for the second time in his life he thinks that billy hargrove is going to kill him.

and for the second time, steve is saved at the last second by a girl half his size.

steve doesn’t know how it happens, but somehow it’s him and heather holloway standing over billy’s body. heather is still holding the sharp jagged half of the mop she broke over billy’s head. there’s bright red blood running down the drains. the tiles on the wall are broken and shattered where steve smashed billy’s head against it.

heather’s eyes are wide. what the fuck? steve leans down to check billy’s pulse. is he dead? heather starts pacing. steve finds a faint rhythm and finds himself sighing in relief. he’s still alive. heather slumps against a shower stall. they have to call ambulance. they have to call the police. steve starts to shake his head but stops. heather is right about calling the police. or specifically, the chief of police.

somehow, steve convinces a shaky and shocked heather to help him get billy into the backseat of his BMW. however, he can’t convince her to leave. heather knows their history. all of hawkins high heard about how they beat each other half to death last year. she’s not letting either of them get the chance to finish the job, not after what she just saw. she doesn’t need that shit on her conscience, so she’s coming with them. to keep an eye on them. the both of them. and she’s bringing her sharp stick with her too, so steve better not get any ideas cause she’s not afraid to use it on him, too.

heather has her back pressed to the passenger door, half turned in the seat so that she can keep line of sight on the two of them. her face is pale. she’s eyeing billy’s bloody face in the backseat. how is he even alive? in the rearview mirror, steve can see a shard of ceramic stuck among blond curls. he should be dead. she looks to steve. he has known heather since middle school and for the first time he hears her voice shake. why isn’t he dead?

steve tells her they can’t go to the hospital. heather looks at him like he’s grown a second head. they can’t go to the police station either.

they’re going to steve’s house, because steve’s parents have a fireplace in their bedroom and billy’s body is cold to the touch.

steve has never really understood the hows and whys of the upside down and all that crawled out of it. truthfully, he doesn’t care. all he cares about is that it keeps happening. even now, when it’s supposed to be impossible. eleven closed the gate and that should have stopped it but steve saw the look in billy’s eyes and he’s watching the split skin on billy’s forehead slowly stitch itself back together so what else could it be. steve doesn’t understand much about the upside down, but he does know that it’s cold. that he likes it cold.

he gives heather the chance to leave again when they get to his house. she glares at him. she doesn’t know what the fuck is going on, but she’s staying. she looks offended that he thinks she wouldn’t. steve is secretly a little grateful. he didn’t really want to be alone. he has heather grab his bat out of the trunk. just in case he wakes up. heather has known him since middle school, but she looks at him like she’s meeting him for the first time when she sees the nails. she still picks it up. she still stays.

steve calls hopper while heather stands watch over billy. her knuckles are bone white over the grip of the bat. steve leaves a message for hopper and tells heather to stay here in the den, to stay by the phone, to keep on calling that number until someone answers.

then, steve goes upstairs and ties billy hargrove to his parents headboard and waits for him to wake up.

billy wakes up pissed. what the fuck is this shit? he twists against the ties like he’s testing them and laughs, tongue darting over his lips as he looks over the rope looping over his wrists. should’ve told me you were a freak, harrington. billy rolls his body against the mattress as much as he can in either direction but he doesn’t take his eyes off steve as he does, so he doesn’t miss the way steve’s eyes slip to the stretch of skin as his cropped shirt slides up. it’s distracting. wouldn’t have stood you up last night. billy’s grin is wicked but it’s wiped away in the blink of an eye when steve starts to walk away. it’s just a distraction. billy’s voice drops to a near whisper. in his tone is a warning. let me go.

instead, steve throws every blanket he owns over billy and stokes a fire. that’s when steve starts to see it, whatever it is that has taken hold of billy hargrove. let me go. he trashes against the mattress. let me go. his shoulder pops out of the socket. let me go. the binds rub the skin around his wrist raw and bloody. let me go. let me go! LET ME GO!

the headboard tears apart like it’s made of cardboard. billy’s hands around around his neck. again. steve can’t breathe. again. as his vision starts to fade, steve thinks heather must have left after all. she must be long gone otherwise she would have heard, would be here. he can’t blame her. doesn’t. it’s okay if she saves herself. he wants her to. he hopes she saves--

billy is ripped off of him, his body thrown across the room. steve half collapses, gasping for air, grasping at the wall. for the third time in his life, a girl half his size has saved his ass from billy hargrove.

eleven’s nose is already bleeding as she enters with max at her back. max’s eyes are wide and terrified. behind her, heather’s eyes are even wider. max takes a stuttering step forward, flanking el like a shadow despite the clear fear on her face. eleven swipes the back of her hand across her nose with a sniff, smears the blood up across her wrist. that same hand she holds up like some soldier, signalling for max to stop, to stay back, to hold position in the doorway with heather. heather wrings her hands around the grip of the baseball bat, raising it at the ready when billy starts to stand up.

eleven steps forward, puts herself in front of steve like a protective shield. steve still can’t breathe, still can’t speak, so he can’t give in to the instinct to tell her to leave. she’s just a kid. she’s just a fucking kid. steve knows she’s stronger than he will ever be but she’s just a kid. it’s a fucking shame that she’s always the one saving them.

billy is barely standing before eleven has him suspended in the air again. with his arms pinned to some invisible crucifix, he fights against this unseen force until he’s foaming at the mouth. his rigid body is raised higher and higher, in the beams of the vaulted ceiling, until he’s screaming into the skylight window inches above his head. the lights in the room flicker.

eleven is screaming, too. there’s blood smeared across her teeth. both hands are extended out in front of her. her fingers curl into claws. a quick, violent jerk up and the skylight shatters. billy’s shoulders smash through it. sparkling shards of glass splash across the mattress. another scream from eleven and the lights in the room buzz bright. she brings both hands down. towards the ground. like a ragdoll, billy’s body is thrown through the drywall.

everything stops. it’s still. no one moves for minutes. watching and waiting for billy to get back up. he doesn’t. they tie him up again. they to come up with a plan. they managed to get the mindflayer out of one william before, they could find a way do it again. they just need somewhere safe, somewhere he can’t escape. it needs to be secure. it needs to be sweltering.

the sauna should work.

(it doesn’t.)

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