Saved

Eleven

Allison stood above Billy watching his chest slowly rise and fall, contemplating what to do. She held her arms out in front of her and carefully lifted him into the air, moving his body towards the living room. Her nose began to bleed as she lowered him onto the couch and she quickly wiped it away with the back of her sleeve.

She sat down on the edge of the couch, moving Billy's head into a more comfortable position, where she could easily access the damage that had been done to his face. There was blood in his nose and at the corners of his mouth, and a bruise on his cheek from where his father had hit him earlier in the evening.

After taking note of the extent of his injuries, Allison stood up and wandered down the hallway to the washroom. She hadn't been inside the Byer's house in a year, but the layout had remained the same, making it easy for her to find what she needed. She went to the linen closet and pulled out a small washcloth, then carried it over to the sink and ran it under the water.

She returned to the living room and quietly knelt down next to Billy, who hadn't moved from the position she had left him in. As she began to clean the blood off his face with the wet washcloth, his eyelids slowly fluttered open. It took a moment for his eyesight to adjust but as Allison's face came into focus, he recoiled away from her.

"Don't fucking touch me!", he slurred his words, trying to sit up, underestimating the side effects of what had been injected into him. He flinched as Allison touched him, helping him lay back down.

"Let me help you.", her tone was stern as she put her hands on his chest and forced him to keep still.

"Why?"

"Because you're hurt."

"No...I mean...why do you give a shit?", he spit out angrily, his blue eyes searching her face for a sign of her true intentions.

"Is it that hard to believe that someone cares about your wellbeing?", she asked, looking back into his bloodshot eyes.

"Yes.", he groaned, closing his eyes and letting her finish what she was trying to do. When she finally put down the cloth, she gently trailed her fingertips over his bruised cheek. "Are you real?", Billy mumbled, keeping his eyes shut as he spoke.

"Why wouldn't I be real?", Allison inquired, with a chuckle.

"Because I only see you when there's something wrong with me. I was fucked up on Halloween and I'm really fucked up now. Maybe you're just a...hallucination...or something. That would explain what I saw you do with that bat-"

"Why would you hallucinate someone like me?", she cut him off, trying to distract him from what he had seen.

"I don't know. 'Cause, you're hot. Like really hot...and you actually seem to care. But people like you don't exist. So either you aren't real, or you're a good liar."

"Friends don't lie."

"So I'm crazy."

"You aren't crazy, you just need to sleep. Let me take you home.", she insisted, grabbing his hand and pulling him up into the sitting position. He wasn't any help as his body went limp and he hunched forward, almost falling onto the floor again. Allison realized that she would have to use her powers to move him, but try to make it seem like she was doing it manually.

She lifted him up onto his feet, and slung his arm over her shoulder, slowly moving him towards the front door. Every couple of steps Billy would try and take over, but then his body would give out on him again. He kept looking over in confusion, trying to understand how Allison was supporting his weight.

When they stepped outside, Allison helped him off the front porch and began to lead him towards Jonathan Byer's secondhand car. Billy struggled to lift his head, scanning over the surrounding area for his Camaro.