HYPNOTIC, VOL I!

TEN, "WHEN ANGELS FALL"

Violet had laid awake, eyes blinking at the glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling. They twinkled at her, shooting her little winks within the darkness of her room. Taunting her. Daring her to close her eyes, to try to fall asleep again. To shut them and see those flashes in her head once more – flashes of dark, twisting vines wrapping around her entire body, sinking deep into her skin and holding hands with her bones. And they pulled and pulled and pulled until it felt like her limbs were about to completely detach from her body.

They'd keep pulling until she wasn't really Violet anymore – until she was just a shell of herself.

And she had jolted herself awake numerous times that night. Eventually, she just stopped trying to sleep again. She was too scared to try. She couldn't find it in herself to fall into that suffocating darkness, so she just stared at those twinkly little stars on the ceiling until the sun rose outside her bedroom window.

Because of this, she's really not surprised when Ronnie nudges her shoulder at work that night, telling her to head home early. It's not a suggestion; it's an order. Violet must go home. And Violet wants to argue it – to tell Ronnie that she can stay and she won't fall asleep again. That she's OK. She can make it through the shift. It's only a few more hours.

But Ronnie doesn't think so.

"No offense, but you look terrible," she points out. "Go home. Get some sleep."

Ronnie's not really one of those bosses who doesn't care for their employees. If anything, she cares too much. She's always stressing about breaks and stepping in with confrontational customers and offering her lunch if someone forget theirs –

And Violet shouldn't feel bad about being told to go home but she does. Ronnie's here almost every night despite what she's got going on at home (a small child and a greedy boyfriend, apparently) and Violet's supposed to go home because she's tired? Because she's a little sick?

"But –"

And Ronnie cuts her off before she can say anything else. It's what Ronnie does — uses her authority for compliance (in the most respectful way possible).

"I've got you covered," she adds. "Go."

It's the first time Violet's left work while the mall is still open — while people fill each floor, crowding so closely that it feels a little suffocating to walk through. Her body drags through the crowd, bumping into shoulders frequently because she doesn't care to notice the individuals beside her. The room spins around her, and when she opens the doors to the outside, she has to stop herself from tripping through the parking lot. Her limbs feel heavy – tired.

She drags herself to the back of the lot in search of her car, scanning the darkness to the best of her ability. When she spots her family's little car, she clutches the keys harder between her fingers.

As if she's on autopilot, she slides into the vehicle and starts the engine. It chugs to life, rumbling lowly in the busy parking lot. Momentarily, she closes her eyes, breathing deeply to stop the spinning around her. (It doesn't work). She flicks the radio off like it'll help the world to stop twirling and backs out of her parking spot.

The drive home is a dark one. Streetlights flicker as she drives down the endless roads, and her head continues to spin despite the radio not being on. Suddenly, her headlights flicker before her, and she curses under her breath. C'mon, she pleads. Not now, not now.

Her radio turns on, static filling her ears.

She shuts it off.

It turns back on again.

This is where she should've just ignored it – where she should've just kept driving home.

Instead, she glances at the radio to turn it off again — to be absolutely certain it shuts off — and when she returns her attention towards the road, her surroundings shift into that blue color again. The same thing as the other night. A giant vine twists itself in front of her car, so lifelike that she swears it has some sort of mind of its own.

She gasps, slamming on her breaks and attempting to swerve around it.

And then, suddenly — just like that, like the snap of a finger — the blue's gone, and it's just her parked in the ditch on the side of the road.

Breathing heavily, she runs her hands down her face. She must be going crazy. That's it. She's fucking losing it. It's the only reasonable explanation for any of this because that is not Hawkins. Not her Hawkins – the place where she grew up and made friends and grew feelings for her best friend – it's not the same. It's dark and twisted and full of the unknown and she hates it –

And that's when she sees it: Billy's car parked in the parking lot of the community pool despite it closing hours ago. No other car occupies the lot, and there isn't a reason for him to still be there – not one that she knows of.

Her mind wanders back to the other day – when she came to this same pool with Ricky and got in that argument with Billy. She remembers how awful he looked – how totally worn out and drained he appeared. She didn't ask about it then because she was so frustrated with him. She didn't care at that moment that he looked just like her – skin on fire, sweat dripping down his entire body, wobbling on his feet like he was drunk despite being completely sober...

This is when her heart starts to race because what if he's not OK? What if there's something wrong with him in there? What if he's alone in there and something happened to him?

The thought alone has her throwing the door of her car open with the engine still running, headlights shining into the nearby trees.

She stumbles across the parking lot towards the men's locker room. The steamy air surrounds her upon tugging open the door, pulling the air right from for her lungs. It envelopes her, wrapping her body in an uncomfortable, heavy warmth. And when the door slams harshly behind her, her heart leaps in her chest.

The room is dark, with only a few lights creating a small amount of illumination. It's enough for her to see in front of her, but not enough for her to feel comfortable in such an unknown environment.

"Billy?" she calls out.

There's no answer.

It makes her heart race a little, worry seeping under her skin. It crawls into little crevices, keeping her on high alert. Reminding her to be vigilant. To be aware of the darkness around her — places where vines can slither across the ground, where they can latch onto her ankle, where they can rip her limb from limb and —

She weaves around the corner, finding the locker room to be empty. As she calls out his name once more, she walks by the next row of lockers, and there stands Billy, tugging a pair of shorts over his hips before tying them in the front. Water falls from his wet hair, sliding along his bare chest, indicative of him just getting out of the shower.

He has yet to notice her, and maybe he didn't even hear her the first time. If he did, he surely wouldn't ignore her, right?

"Billy?" she tries again.

She watches as his shoulders tense momentarily before he cracks his neck with a roll of his head, and his body visibly relaxes. He doesn't turn to look at her; he knows the sound of her voice. He knows it's Violet standing behind him. "Thought you were pissed at me."

And this has her pausing before she says anything else. It has her reminding herself of who he really is despite how far they've come in the past few weeks. How, despite their argument the other day, she was still willing to come check on him, to make sure he was OK. And right now, she's not sure he would do the same for her; after all, she's felt horrible for days, and she hasn't heard from him once. It's telling, and it hurts her heart. Violet doesn't think she's done anything to him to deserve this treatment. "That's not why I'm here –"

"Then why are you here?" he asks sharply.

Her heart catches in her throat at his tone. It has her almost retreating, taking a step backwards and crossing her arms uncomfortably over her chest. She doesn't understand why he's being so cruel right now — why he's snapping at her when she hasn't done anything.

"I – uh – I saw your car outside. You're not usually here this late so I –" She cuts herself off when she hears a scoff come from him. "What? I can't be worried about you?"

She doesn't know why she tried to offer an explanation. It's clear he doesn't want to hear one — clear he doesn't really want to talk to her right now.

If she's being honest, she thinks she should've seen all of this sooner. Who he is. How he treats people.

If she did, she would've recognized this is just who he is — that even her own kindness towards him wouldn't be enough to make him open up.

"Don't need to worry about me," he says.

But, maybe she's not being honest with herself.

"I do worry –"

"Why?" he asks then, turning around to finally look at her. His eyes are dark – taunting. Water slides from his hair and down his face. His chest heaves heavily as his eyes meet hers. Cold. Calculated, almost. It's a stark contrast to her own hopeful ones, brown eyes practically begging for him to give her something — anything — other than what he is now. "Cause I'm your boyfriend?"

Billy's never been a good person. What a fool she is to think any differently – to think that just because he sometimes treats her nicely it means he could potentially be good.

But she's Violet Sheridan, and Violet Sheridan let's people walk all over her if it means they like her — if it means they appreciate her.

"No, because you're my friend."

He raises his brows, darkness swirling in his eyes, sending a shiver through her bones. It feels like an inaudible laugh, a dark chuckle shooting through her body. "Oh, we're friends now?"

"I'd like to think so..." Violet mutters.

He scoffs again, and it sparks a little fire in the pit of her stomach. It extinguished the pity she felt for herself seconds ago. Completely replaces it. Overpowers it.

"Why are you being such a douche right now?" she decides to ask.

"You should go home, Violet. I'm fine," Billy says instead. He briefly raises his arms in a see here? motion. "See? All good here."

Violet finds herself frowning. She's hurt by his response, and really, it's something she should've expected. It's just how he is; it's the type of person he is. Someone who puts on a front instead of opening up to others – instead of showing any bit of weakness. "If that's what you want."

"It is," Billy says then.

She opens her mouth to say something else – to ask him what she could've possibly done wrong to make him treat her this way, but she stops herself when she sees one of his brows raise, practically daring her to say something else.

This doesn't feel like Billy. Not her Billy. Her friend...Friend?

She doesn't know.

Maybe it was all some sort of lie.

When her eyes begin to sting, she twists on her heel, and without another look behind her, she makes her way back towards the door. And she wants to curse herself then; she doesn't know why she came here. She could've just gone home. She didn't need to see if he was alright.

That's not her job, and it's obvious he doesn't care.

With her hands pressed against the cold door, she pushes on the surface – and it doesn't budge.

So she pushes again.

The door still doesn't open.

"Billy?" she hesitantly calls.

"What?"

"The door's locked."

It's then that Billy comes around the corner, eyes dark as he says, "The door's not fucking lo –"

But it doesn't open for him either.

Her heart begins to hammer in her chest when he tries again to no avail. It almost feels like the room begins to shrink around them, tugging the air right from her lungs as she watches Billy slam his fist against the back of the door. The lights go out around them. Thump, thump, thump –

A locker slams, and it feels like a firework explodes in her chest. The sound echoes throughout the empty space, bouncing off all the walls and sending shockwaves into her chest.

Thumpthumpthump –

"Pool's closed!" Billy shouts.

In a split second, he disappears around the corner again, and Violet finds herself trying the door once more before she ultimately follows after him. She catches up to him as another locker slams out of sight, and a taunting voice calls out Billy's name.

"Who's there?" Billy asks, his lips curled in a snarl. It's obvious he's not as nervous (or maybe...scared?) as Violet is.

"Bil-ly," the voice sings again.

And Billy fucking laughs when he hears this, his voice mocking the sing-song cadence of the other one. "Who's the-re?"

Violet stands right behind him, heat radiating directly from his body to hers. It tells her this is real – that this isn't just her imagination. It's not like all those other times — like just minutes ago — when she couldn't tell the difference between fiction and reality. When something slithered in front of her car with so much life that she swore it was real — so real it had her steering her car into a ditch. "Billy, maybe we should –"

He harshly slides open a shower curtain only to find nothing in its place.

"You think this is funny, huh?" Billy asks darkly, sliding the curtain closed as he walks away from it. He runs his hand along the rest of them, and Violet scurries behind him, her hands twisting in front of her uncomfortably. The sing-songy voice says something else, but the words muffle through her ears, scrambling somewhere in the middle until they ultimately mean nothing to her. "I find you, it is your funeral."

A door closes in front of them, and Violet grabs Billy's wrist. "Seriously, let's go –"

But Billy doesn't let her finish. Instead, he scowls.

"Just stay here," he says.

"Billy –"

His hand reaches back and brushes hers for only a moment before he repeats, "Stay here, Violet."

And so she does.

Billy disappears from her vision, and she's left alone. The silence around her is deafening, and it sends her heart racing. She breathes deeply, rocking back and forth on her feet as she tightly closes her eyes. Her hands curl into fists at her sides, and when she feels a bead of sweat roll down her neck and a chill in the air, her eyes snap open.

And she's not in her Hawkins anymore. She swears she's only gone for a second but it feels like a lifetime.

A vine curls around her ankle, wet and sticky like the last time she felt it, and she finds herself jumping backwards until her back slams into a nearby locker.

With a soft whine, she wraps her arms around herself, sinking down the lockers until she's sitting with her knees to her chest. She squeezes her eyes shut again, resting her forehead against her knees and covering her ears with her hands.

Despite the suffocatingly warm air of the locker room, Violet is immersed in cold. Pressure applies to her leg again as she feels something wrap around it, and she scoots herself farther into the lockers as if it's some sort of escape from the feeling.

"Please, please, please –" she mumbles, the repetitive word stringing together as she presses her face further into her knees.

It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real —

A shout pulls her back out – back to her Hawkins. It's Billy, and it has her scrambling to her feet immediately, her body lulling towards the distressed words coming from his mouth. OPEN THE DOOR!

On some of autopilot, she pulls open the door he'd disappeared through. Workout equipment and weights surround her in the nearly empty room, a stale smell of sweat tickling her nose. It's then she takes notice of a group of children she doesn't recognize crowding around the door of the sauna, Billy pounding his fist against the other side. Open the door! And Violet swivels around, her heart racing, taking in each face around her until she finds one she recognizes...or thinks she recognizes.

Billy's step sister twists her head around, eyes going wide as they look at her. "Violet?"

When she looks back at the sauna, Billy's gone. His face isn't in the window anymore; instead, she sees nothing on the other side, and there's a scream that erupts from behind the door.

Violet steps forward, but Max's hand wraps around her wrist before she can get any closer. She tries to tug her hand out of her grasp but has no luck in doing so. "What are you doing? Let him out –!"

This is when Billy starts to sob, and the sound echoes around the room. Violet's heart squeezes when she hears it.

"You have to trust me," Max says.

But why would Violet trust her? She doesn't even know her. She's met her only a few times when stopping at Billy's house or when she runs into her at the mall. They've never had a proper conversation, and Billy's never talked about her. She knows absolutely nothing about Max — not enough to simply trust her without a reason.

"What are you talking about?"

And before Max can respond, Billy chokes out, "It's not my fault. It's not my fault. It's not my fault, Max. I promise you. It's not my fault."

Violet's breath catches in her throat, and slowly, Max steps forward, her feet making gentle strides towards the window of the sauna. "What's not your fault, Billy?"

"I've done things, Max. Really – bad things," he cries. "I didn't mean to...He made me do it."

An uncomfortable feeling settles around Violet then. Like a needle going through her head, she feels pressure erupt in her forehead as if to say It's here! It's me! Find me!

It almost makes her nauseous.

"Who made you do it?" Max asks.

"I don't know," Billy whispers. "It's like a shadow. Like a giant shadow. Please, Max."

The room spins dizzily around her, and it's like the pieces of the puzzle start to come together.

"What did he make you do?"

"It's not my fault, OK? Max, please! Please, believe me, Max, it's not my fault! I tried to stop him, OK? I did." Billy sniffles. "Please believe me, Max. Please believe me."

Max puts her hand against the glass, her body shuddering. "Billy, it's gonna be OK. We want to help you. You just have to talk to us, OK? You have to talk to us."

The hypnotism. Billy's hand on her shoulder. Billy pushing her to open up — to put herself out there!. A hallucination so bad she had to call Steve. A — a hallucination? Can she even call it that? If felt so real that she has a hard time labeling it as a hallucination — putting such a light term on it feels so dismissive and she knows it was real.

She just knows it.

She wonders if Billy's seen the same things — if he's experienced the same things.

And then she hears it — her name.

"Is Violet out there? I need to talk to Violet – need to talk to Violet – can you — can you please –?"

The distressed sound of his voice tugs at her heartstrings, and she finds herself stepping towards the small window of the sauna, peering into it beside Max. Billy's glassy eyes meet hers, and she tries her best to read them – tries to read those little speakers to his soul. They're the only way she ever knows what he's actually thinking. Billy's good at covering up his emotions with harsh words – words that cut so deep they leave you bleeding. Just like he had only minutes ago to her. Cut and sliced and diced right at her as if they'd never known each other at all — as if she hadn't helped him time and time again after his father hurt him in ways she couldn't imagine her own dad doing.

But his eyes...They say everything else. Everything he really means.

When she looked into them only minutes ago, they were full of darkness. Anger. Resentment.

And right now? Right now, his eyes feel empty. Not real. Fake. And yet, her heart clenches at the sight of them — clenches at the sight of those tears in his eyes.

She's only seen Billy show emotion similar to this one other time, but it felt so real then.

But they didn't talk about it. They just got high and continued on like he'd wished.

He didn't want to talk about it, but she would've if he wanted to.

Billy chokes on his next words, his eyes searching her face frantically. "Violet, baby, you've gotta get me out of here. I – I didn't do anything, I swear. You – you gotta open the door, baby. OK? Please, open the door. I didn't mean to upset you – I won't do it again. Please open the door – please –"

Baby.

He doesn't call her that. He never has. He wouldn't. She's Violet. Vi. Nothing more, nothing less. They don't have nicknames for each other. They're Billy and Violet. Billy and Vi. Never has he called her that before.

It gives her an uncomfortable feeling.

Despite knowing this – knowing this isn't Billy or how he'd ever act – she still has tears in her eyes. She feels for him. Max sniffles from beside her.

"Billy, what's going on?" Violet asks.

"We need you to trust us, OK?" Max adds.

Trust us. For what? Violet feels so out of the loop but with this feeling in her chest, she knows she can't open the door for Billy.

That, and she doesn't have the key for the lock on the door anyway.

"Max, get away from the door," she hears behind her, but she doesn't really comprehend the words. Doesn't completely register them until it's said again. "Get away from the door!"

And Max grabs Violet's wrist then, pulling her back just as Billy breaks through the glass, his arm reaching through and just barely missing Violet as she's yanked backwards.

Violet's not often scared of Billy; she doesn't think he would ever actually hurt her. Not physically, at least.

But right now? She's terrified of him.

"LET ME OUT, YOU BITCH! LET ME OUT! I'LL FUCKING GUT YOU!"

Violet jumps back, her heart racing as she watches Billy spit those nasty words towards her and Max – pure disgust and hatred spilling from his mouth. Threats she never thought she'd ever hear from him.

Billy groans, his arm reaching towards the lock on the door. "Let me out!"

And then it's silent for a moment as Billy gets hit with some sort of slingshot, falling onto the floor of the sauna, completely out of sight.

Violet struggles to breathe, and Max is running back towards her friends, leaving Violet in the corner, her hand on her chest. The room starts to spin around her, her heartbeat muffling in her ears like she's underwater. A steady whoosh echoes through her head as the lights start flickering around them.

Billy slams himself against the door repeatedly, and it echoes around the room, but Violet can't think to move – to worry about it. To worry about his behavior or the threatening shouts tearing through his body.

Because Violet can physically feel her own body start to heat up – start to turn to fire. It burns to the touch, and she starts to sweat. Little droplets slide down the sides of her face, down her arms, down her back...Her clothes cling to her skin, and the heat shallows her breathing.

And she thinks she can feel her body start to shut down – like it's being taken over by something else. Like she's not in total control of her movements. She's on fire, but she's not completely present. Not there enough to actually feel it.

Even when Billy's finally out of the door, she can't do anything but stand there. Her body frozen. Her heart racing. The pressure in her ears intensifying with each passing moment. Her legs weakening. 

And then she feels herself hit the wall, sliding down as a heavy weight is slammed into Billy's throat across the room despite no one touching the object. Violet lets out a strangled cough, her arm desperately reaching for Billy before she feels the air leave her lungs entirely. Like there's a pair of hands squeezing and squeezing and squeezing around her throat until her vision goes blurry.

It feels like life is just leaving her body, spilling out of each crevice – hitching a ride on the beads of sweat sliding down her skin —

Suddenly there's weight on the back of her head, and everything starts to get a little fuzzy. Her eyes flutter, and the room darkens considerably. When her back shoots with a sharp pain shortly after, she feels herself falling into the darkness.

Down and down and down the rabbit hole until —

Until she wakes up in her bed the next morning with the sun rising through her window with only a small recollection of the night before.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: hiiiii!! i don't think I like this chapter very much but I'm not sure of another way to write it??? it is what it is, I suppose???

🫀I don't have much to ask but...what did you think of Billy and Violet's interaction??? lil sus if you ask me.

🫀wtf is up with violet!!!! hmmmm!!!! she's not thriving that's for sure

🫀no steve in this chapter but I warned y'all!! steve isn't a huge part of season 3 for her and they have totally different storylines this season. she's a human without steve!!

🫀anywhoooooo, what did you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter!! i won't be able to update for a few weeks now bc I have my oral preliminary exams coming up soon for my grad program and I'm absolutely TERRIFIED. like pls off me. pls. I beg you.

but either way I love y'all and thank you for loving Violet as much as I do xoxoxox <3

(Yes the above gif is made by me. Pls don't steal it without credit. Other gifs like this are on my tumblr which is linked on my account hehe)