Things To Hide In The Dark. (Harringrove)

Chapter Ten.

Steve pulled into his driveway. The sight before him made his heart sink. A bloodied Billy Hargrove on his front porch steps, being held up by a crying Max. They hadn't even left two hours ago, and he'd been bludgeoned. Steve was pissed.

He got out of the car, and sprinted to Billy's side. He hadn't realized but tears were falling from his eyes. He didn't say a word as he scooped Billy up, leaning him on his shoulder, before practically dragging him into the house.

"I-it was h-his dad." Max sobbed.

"Maxine!" Billy scolded like she'd given away some big secret, but Steve knew Billy was embarrassed. He could bet he'd never had to go to anyone for help, but he was glad he had this time.

"It's okay, I know." Steve sat Billy down in his armchair in the living room, being careful not to hurt him. "Max the guest room upstairs has premium cable. I'll take care of him, just go relax." He told her with a gentle smile. She nodded, understanding that it wasn't the time to mouth off how she could handle it, because honestly, she couldn't. She went upstairs without a word, leaving Steve to tend to Billy with tearful eyes.

"Don't cry pretty boy." Billy's slurring a bit, and Steve notices the vomit on his t-shirt. His heart sinks more.

The sight before him is rough honestly. Drying blood caked the blond boys face, his nose was most likely broken, and he had a mean gash above his eyebrow. Billy looked so bad. It broke Steve's heart and soon he was sobbing.

"Don't tell me not to cry." He croaked. He went to the kitchen and came back with supplies to help fix Billy's face. He dabbed a cloth in warm water and wiped away the caked on blood. It didn't come easily but he had all night. "Tell me you didn't drive." Steve almost begged, more tears falling from his eyes.

"I didn't." Steve knew that was a lie. He remembered with a grimace what Max's driving was like.

Steve had wiped most of the blood away, looking at Billy with sad eyes as he cleaned his eyebrow with antiseptic on a cotton ball. The younger man winced at the sting, but Steve comforted him with a squeeze of the hand. He put a butterfly bandage over it, hoping that would help heal it. He did the same with Billy's lip that was busted again.

"I'm going to have to set your nose. It's broken." Steve told him and Billy's face scrunched in pain at the thought.

"Do what you gotta do." He told him quietly, closing his eyes as Steve went to get something.

Moments later he came back with two number two pencils. Billy knew how bad this was going to suck, it wasn't his first broken nose. Steve kissed his cheek to sooth him, a gesture he'd wanted more of, but they had to do this. Neither wanted to prolong the agony.

Steve put one pencils up each nostril. It already hurt, but once it was reset he'd be able to breath again. Steve stratled Billy's lap for leverage, and in any other circumstances Billy's hands would've been all over him, but instead they rested on his hips. Rubbing circles to tell Steve it was okay.

Steve snapped the pencils to the left and pulled up, the crunch Billy heard for the second time that night flipping his stomach. Pain radiated from his nose for a few seconds before settling to a sharp ache. Billy could breath again. He was so glad.

Steve held a tissue to his sore nose and told him to blow. He did and a couple of blood clots filled the tissue. Steve didn't flinch, didn't bat an eye. He just wiped away the blood, and cleaned the rest of Billy's face.

Billy had never been taken care of like this before. He didn't know what to think. Steve wasn't judgmental, or mean. He took care of him like he wanted to. Like Billy wasn't a burden to be around.