A/n: You might be noticing a lot less 1st person pov, I'm slowing inching away from that since 1st person isn't a strength of mine. I most likely will phase that out altogether, idk, let me know?

Trigger Warnings: Violent racism. Allusions to domestic violence. If you would like/need to skip, I will be putting the usual markers [●●●] before and after. Both of these warnings will fall under the marker. Safe reading, my loves! I care about you all so deeply, and I want you guys to have my stories as an escape so I'm really hating myself that this scene is coming out during all this. Not that it was ever not going on before cuz we all know that's bullshit, but with it all being so amplified right now. Again, I love you all and if you ever need anything 💕💕💕💞💞💞 edit: also brief mention of needles

||3rd Person POV||

Billy Hargrove's car skids to a halt in front of the Byers house, the four tires send gravel up flying. The headlights dim out with a sharp click as he puts the car to sleep, and the rusty car door squeaks as he opens it. He takes the dying cigarette out from between his smirking lips when he sees who is waiting for him on the porch.

"Am I dreaming, or is that you Harrington?"

Steve sighs, tiredly. "Yeah, it's me. Don't cream your pants."

A cocky smirk overtook Billy's face and he shed his coat out of intimidation. Steve stepped off the porch and the two boys walked across the yard until they were directly across from one another.

"Whatya doing here, amigo?" Billy asks.

Steve cocked his head to the side, his arms coming to cross over his chest. "I could ask you the same thing... Amigo."

The cigarette hung loosely from Billy's lips once more, and for a small but lingering moment, he observed Steve trying to get a read on him.

"I'm looking for my step sister. Little birdie told me she was here."

Steve was quick to dawn a mask of surprise. "Huh, that's weird I don't know her."

Billy's face was slowly but surely molding into a wild glare, his brows already knitted together in agitation. He begins gesturing, vaguely.

"Small, redhead. Bit of a bitch."

A lick of anger flickered over Steve but for the kids' sake, he didn't let it show. He merely shrugged in a bored manner.

"Doesn't ring a bell. Sorry, buddy."

Billy shook his head as he glowered at the ground, a twinge of disgust twisted up in his face. He took the cigarette into his hands, and he looks at it for only a second and smacks his lips.

A deep sigh resonates from within his chest, and he steps forward waving a shaky hand in the air.

"You know... I don't know, this...?" He falters, trying to find the appropriate word. "This whole situation, Harrington, I don't know. It's giving me heebie-jeebies."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

He takes another drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke fill his lungs and the feeling fuels his rage.

"My thirteen-year-old sister goes missing all day," his cold green eyes were now wide and dilated. Beady almost as he looked at Steve, no longer attempting to hide his fury. "And then I find her with you. In a stranger's house. And you lie to me about it."

His voice is shockingly calm, but lower than usual. A disgusted and hardened scowl contorts his face, and it doesn't ever seem to move. Steve laughs, hoping it doesn't sound as nervous as he is beginning to feel. Luckily, he recovers quickly.

"Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what?"

The smoke leaves Billy's lungs in a joyous cackle, his tongue flicks across his top set of teeth in excitement and there is a wild and unhinged look in his eyes. Steve didn't know it yet, but he had just said the magic words. He had just pushed the wrong button.

"I don't know what you don't understand about what I just said." Steve finished, watching unsettled as Billy continued to lick his lips excitedly. "She's not here."

Steve felt his confidence rising considerably. Up until Billy inched closer, he then rose up his cigarette, pointing it over his shoulder towards the house.

"Then who is that?"

Steve looks over his shoulder to find four heads crammed together against the window, watching.

Inside, Max, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike threw themselves down against the couch as fast as they could.

"Shit!" Cried Dustin, he looks between his friends hopefully. "Did he see us?"

"Oh, shit," Steve mumbles, turning back. "listen--"

Steve was on the concrete in seconds, Billy stalking forward to tower over him.

"I told you to plant your feet." He spits.

His right leg rears up and in one swift motion, his boot collides with Steve's abdomen, knocking the breath out of him.

The front door slams against the wall, shaking the frame and the four cowering bodies standing across the room.

[●●●]

His eyes narrow upon seeing Lucas among the bunch. Eerily enough, despite his bigoted fury, his face is completely devoid of emotion.

"Well, well, well," he seethes, one long arm throwing the door slammed behind him. "Lucas Sinclair, what a surprise."

He marches forward, and every thud of his boot's rubber soles against the linoleum is like a boom in his ears. He is already backing away, Max the only one brave enough to stay by his side. Billy's attention is redirected to her.

"I thought I told you to stay away from him, Max?"

"Billy, go away."

Her voice is shaking but she holds her ground. His voice lowers to a terrifying and threatening volume as he spits at her coldly.

"You disobeyed me," he says, in almost a sad and disappointed tone. "You know what happens when you disobey me."

"Billy--"

"I break things,"

The second the words left his tongue, he whirls on Lucas picking him up by the scruff of his jacket and carries him all the way to the kitchen wall. He cries out, fighting against the iron grip, but it does little help. Terrified screams of protest erupted from the other three kids, but he doesn't listen.

"Get off of me, you--!"

Billy shoves Lucas farther into the shelf to enunciate his point and he leans in closer, teeth gritted.

"If Maxine won't listen to me, maybe you will," Lucas doesn't give up fighting, his legs and arms still struggle for freedom but what little confidence he had waned as Billy leaned in closer. "Stay away from her."

Lucas feels himself being pulled forward before being thrown back into the shelf again and he grimaces in pain.

"STAY," his head begins to tremor, his rage overcoming his body. "away from her. Do you hear me?"

His heart slamming against his ribcage as he stares at Billy and his furious scowl, Lucas takes several shallow breaths and grits his teeth right back. "I said get off of me!"

Lucas's knee flies up and connects with Billy's groin, and the young Hargrove stumbles back with a tremendous groan. He's doubled over, hands gripping his legs and squeezing in pain till his skin goes completely white. Slowly his head rises revealing his now purple face, it's decorated with several thick blue veins on his forehead. His groans of pain evolved into furious growls, and his beady eyes are locked on Lucas.

"You are SO dead, Sinclair!" He roared. "You're dead."

[●●●]

A hand landed on Billy's shoulder, ripping him around on his heel to find Steve with disgust written all over his face.

"No," he spits, cocking one arm back. "You are!"

Steve's fist collided with Billy's nose, sending the other teenager back several paces once again doubling over. He watched as Billy straightened up, an odious and maniacal cackle erupting from his throat as he wore a wicked grin. Blood began to pour from his nose, and he licked his lips excitedly. Behind them, Lucas had scurried away and into the waiting arms of his friends who all took him into a protective group hug.

"Looks like you got some fire in ya after all, huh?" Belted Billy joyously. He stalks closer towards Steve, his voice lowering with every word. "I've been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody's been telling me so much about."

Steve reaches out and places his two forefingers on Billy's chest, lightly pushing him away. "Get out."

Billy stills as if contemplating his next move but by the time Steve can even blink, Billy has already made it. His fist swings through the air, nearly hitting the side of his head if he hadn't ducked fast enough. As he comes back up, Steve uses the momentum to swing his own fist into Billy's head and it knocks him into the table.

Dustin and the other begin to jump for joy. "Yes! Kick his ass, Steve!"

Billy rises again, more blood covering his lip and another cackle bubbling up but Steve doesn't wait for it to coms out this time. He throws another punch, and it lands squarely in Billy's jaw and he tumbles further into the kitchen counter. He just laughs more, blood now pouring from his mouth and staining his lips and teeth.

Another punch.

His lower back collides with the rim of the kitchen sink, and everything on the counters nearby begins to shake. His head is rolled back in laughter, and the kids encouraging cries are enough to distract Steve from the fact that Billy's right hand is reaching for a plate.

It breaks over his skull and he stumbles back covering his eyes and clutching his scalp. The kids' cries never stop, but they do turn worried as they scream for him to get up, and various 'looks out's were thrown his way. Billy was already on the move, and his shoulder reared back, his hand balled up into a fist with his eyes locked on his target.

When the blow finally comes, Steve is sent into the shelf and several things fall to the floor, including himself. He manages to catch his footing before completely meeting the ground, and as he struggles for balance he fumbles into the living room. He feels himself being yanked up to his feet, Billy's hands grip his sleeves tightly and he gives him a good jolt. His head rolls around on his shoulders as he is thrown around, still blind sighted with pain.

All he can do at the moment is push his one free arm into Billy's heaving chest, desperate to create as much distance as possible. He's shaken again, and Billy drops his voice into an angry hiss.

"No one," he pants. "tells me what to do."

His head flies back before barreling into Steve's, once again sending him flying across the floor. A triumphant cry is ripped from Billy's bloodied lips, the veins in his forehead and throat resurfacing. He stomps across the room towards Steve, all the while ignoring the many screams and pleas for him to stop and leave him alone.

"You're gonna kill him!"

"Billy, stop!"

"Get up, Steve! Come on, you can do it!"

Billy swings one leg over Steve's nearly unconscious form, trapping him in one spot and continues to throw his punches now completely unhinged. Steve's head is swung from side to side as each of Billy's fists connect with his face. Blood flies with every swing, a terrifying roar erupting deep within Billy's chest, and Steve is already more than halfway under. It is truly a disturbing sight to behold, the kids stand planted to the ground in utter terror, screaming their throats raw, begging for him to stop.

All except for Max. She knows her stepbrother is too far gone, and even if he wasn't, he never was an easy one to talk down. She must take matters into her own hands, and that's exactly what she does.

Her eyes have already found one of the syringes used on Will, and it was still full. Wasting no time she snatches it up and rips off the cap. Shoving the boys aside, Max marches across the living room to an unsuspecting Billy. The syringe flies above her head before descending in one swift motion and entering his neck.

Max backs away, the syringe remains buried deep in his skin. He clamors to his feet, staring at her in shock though already it has begun to take effect. He staggers back as loses balance, and his eyelids grow visibly heavy. His bloodied hand feels as if its filled with lead as it rises all the way up to his neck, and he winces as pulls the needle out.

"The hell is this?" He grumbles, lumbering after her. "You little shit, what did you do?"

He has to fight hard to maintain his vision and his balance. It feels as if gravity has tripled. With her directly in his sights, his anger once again redirected at her, he commands his feet to take him to her. Instead, he blinks and finds himself on his back with an aching spine.

"Shit," Mike breathes.

The anesthesia coursing hard through his veins is enough to subdue him but does not bring him completely under as it did the small Byers boy. But it was enough for everyone at that moment. They watched disturbed as he laid on the floor, his head rolling back and forth as he laughed almost joyously. He was amused.

Max only looks at him, for once in her life without even a sliver of fear. All that's left is loathing, and disgust.

She shakes her head, deciding she is still not done. Max would ensure that this would not happen again.

Max takes the bat into her hands and held it over her shoulder, stalking over till she towered over Billy as he had done to her oh so many times.

"From here on out, you are going to leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?"

"Screw you," he spits.

With all her might she throws the bat into the floor just between his legs, his head limply raises up to see that it had missed his crotch by only inches. Everyone watches in awe.

She has to pry the bat from the floor, the several metal nails had been buried deep into the wood floor only further proving her strength and point.

"Say you understand!" She roars. "Say it!"

He says nothing, his head still rolls across the floor.

"SAY IT!"

"I understand," he whispers meekly.

Her brows shoot up, and she tilts her head. "What?"

"I understand." He repeats.

His eyes flutter closed, exhaustion sweeping over him. Satisfied, and finally free, Max drops the bat to the ground with a clatter.

Three mouths watch agape at the sight, they only widen further when she steps around his still body. Bending over, she pulls a set of keys that stick out from his pocket and hold them up for all to see with an impatient look.

"Let's get out of here."

||Reader's POV||

The ride here lasted way too long, at least it felt like it did. My hand comes to rest on the shoulder of Jonathan's seat as I try to peer around to look at where we are. The car had already been going fairlybslow these past few minutes, but it had gotten even slower leaving me to believe we had to be here. Sure enough, just past a few trees, I can barely make out a small wooden porch of the cabin illuminated by the headlights.

I look over to my right at Joyce as the car comes to a stop. Nancy and Jonathan exit the car and head for the trunk, their doors rocking the car a bit when they close them. Will, for the most part, is cradled against Joyce, his head lays against her chest. She hasn't taken her eyes off of him since we got in the car, she's just been lovingly stroking his hair and brushing strands away from his face. My eyes fall to him, my mind hasn't been able to think about anything else other than him or what I'm about to try to do.

I feel eyes on me, and I look up to meet eyes with Joyce. Her expression is hard and somber, her lip is trembling but her eyes are far kinder. We share a silent exchange, knowing the road that lies ahead will not be an easy one, and it's almost a weak attempt at consoling each other.

I take a deep breath and open my door.

"Y/n,"

I stop, my hand leaving the handle and I look at her curiously.

"Sweetie, I am so, so proud, a-a-and thankful for what you are willing to do for this family," she smiles halfheartedly. "But this is a lot to ask. Are you sure this is something you're up for? I couldn't possibly ask you to do something so big if it's too much."

I look at my feet, her words bouncing around my head. They are the perfect meal for my anxiety, feeding all my fears and doubts. And yet, nothing inside me changes. I look up at her, my eyes falling to Will as I speak.

"Yes," I murmur, shaking my head a bit. "I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if I didn't at least try."

My eyes well up with tears, and I look to the woman, who so long ago, had become like a second mother to me.

"Will's my best friend, he's one of the best people I know. And I know he would do the same for me," her eyes are fogging up too, I realize. "This family has done so much for me... I want to give something back."

"Oh, honey," she croaks, reaching a hand out and over Will to give my hand a light squeeze. "You are apart of this family."

The dam breaks, and I feel several hot tears slide down my cheeks and dangle from my jaw. I smile crookedly and soon so does she. She gives my hand another light and loving squeeze and we nod and exit the car.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Between the four of us, we managed to get Will and everything we brought up to the house in one trip. I took the stuff Jonathan had grabbed from the trunk so that he could carry Will.

Nancy is the first to enter, and hitting a switch by the front door, a couple of lights flicker on. We file in one by one, and when I enter after Jonathan, I'm surprised at what I see. And smell. I had expected a mothy, and dusty old cabin given the boards over the windows but it was surprisingly tidy and smelled a bit like an unusually pleasant mix of laundry detergent and pine.

It finally hits me this was where El had spent the last year. It's weird to think this is where she has been living all this time. I step out of the way as Joyce comes in after me, and hesitates just as I did to look around. I stand on the other side of the couch as Jonathan lays Will down on the cushions. Thankfully, he hadn't woken up and we can all only hope that he stays that way until we're ready. We were halfway there when we realized we forgot the anesthesia.

I release a deep breath, trying to push out as much of my nerves as I can and my eyes linger across the room soaking up the details. My eyes catch on what lays sprawled out on the coffee table; a large and completed puzzle of a fireworks display. I feel my expression soften, the ends of my lips tugging up as I think about El enjoying her puzzles.

"It's actually," Nancy said as she got a good look around. "kinda nice."

"Hopefully we can keep it that way," I joke dryly.

I watch as Joyce roams around the room inspecting the place, finally she stops in front of the cast iron fireplace and kneels down in front of it. She looks up at all of us and nods.

"We'll do it here."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Jonathan and Joyce bring Hopper's bed out into the living room in front of the fireplace. All the while, Nancy and I begin setting up the heaters.

I'm glad I have the help, it makes everything a little less intimidating. Only a little. I still know that this is going to take just about everything I've got.

But I meant what I said to Joyce. I am going to do this. I have to. And I want to.

That quick trip to Chicago is starting to turn out to be not such not a bad thing, after all. If I hadn't gone, I never would have broke. I never would have hurt so hard that I found my control. I never would have hit rock bottom. But that's the thing about rock bottom, I guess.

You can only go up from here.

Joyce begins to fill the fireplace to the very top, and Jonathan and Nancy have already turned on the space heaters.

I return from the kitchen with snacks and juice in hand, and I felt absolutely foolish. But halfway through set up, I realized I was going to need all the strength I could get. Which meant I needed fuel. Thankfully, the others not only understood but encouraged it. Even though it all made sense, I still felt silly sitting at the table, eating Hopper's food while everything was going on around me.

But I'm so hungry. I hadn't realized how tired and starving I was until I sat down. It must have been almost a full day since I've eaten! I try to remind myself that this is all what's best for everyone. I can't make much of a difference if I'm not taking care of myself too.

I'm surprised I'm having trouble at all, but my nerves are only growing as time marches on. But before I know it, I've cleared everything in front of me, and just in time, too. The others are now gathering around Will, and they don't seem to be attending to any more details. I rise from my chair and join them.

When I see Will, I can feel coils around my heart tightening, constricting it completely. I suddenly wish Dustin were here just so I could yell at him, cause it really did look like it was right out of the Exorcist.

They had managed to tie his hands and feet down, each limb now connected to each leg of the bed. His arms laid as perfect 'L's beside his head, and he was still an unnatural shade of white.

"You sure this is a good idea?" Jonathan asks, voicing all of our inner doubts.

Without breaking her gaze away, and the hard and stern expression returning to Joyce's face she answers.

"This thing has had Will long enough," she spits, sounding as angry as I felt. "Let's kill this son of a bitch."

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Black Lives Matter links below. Check them out please! Do what you can, every voice counts! These past couple resources have been thanks to @ blm-links on tumblr

Colorado Freedom Fund

"Founded in 2018, Colorado Freedom Fund (CFF) is a revolving fund that pays ransom (posts money bond, pays cash bail) for people unable to afford the cost of buying their own freedom. #FreeThemAll #BringOurNeighborsHome"

[Link]

Anti Repression Resources & Tips

"We provide support for actions that are anti-patriarchal, anti-racist, anti-imperialist & anti-capitalist. Our support work comes primarily in the form of education, information and referrals. We also manage an anti-repression bail fund for those that do not have the resources to bail or bond themselves. We are a first resort for education and information on solidarity and a last resort for financial support."

[Link]

Friendly reminder to check out and support the wonderful black writers on this site. Particularly accounts dedicated to writing woc/poc!readers. I've found the most on tumblr [you can find and add to the list on my notifs board. I'll move it somewhere more conviennent when I can] but I've struggled finding some on here and on ao3 and such.

So please tag them below, or here in the comments, any you might know of on this site or ao3, they NEED to be easier to find!! Especially with x readers. I'll return here and add to this as well when I can. Again, soon I hope to find a more creative and useful way to tag black and poc/woc!wow! Cause again, I want this to be an easy to find resource for anyone looking for xreaders.

I'll be sharing them on every platform of my account, so you guys get the recognition - and proper representation - you deserve.