Don't Panic - B. Hargrove

TWENTY-FOUR

David held Billy's gaze with all intensity as used his flint to aim at his chest. The whole room was silent and none dared to move. It was comical how the tiniest of the teens might be the one to end the fight.
"David."Billy snarled at him.
"No." the other boy simply returned. He didn't even flinch.
Not that he was planning on shooting the other boy, but his finger was firmly on the trigger anyway. Billy looked at him, his gaze was still burning, all his muscles tense. He was ready to strike.
"This isn't your fight, Byers," the boy snarled.
"Of course it is. " David disagreed. "You hurt my friend."
Billy's gaze flickered to Steve behind the tiny Byers, and his mouth curled into a sneer.
"Everything for Steve the fucking king Harrington. The bitch who likes to fuck tiny children and retards."
With that Steve launched forward, pushing David by side, who lost grip on the flint causing it to hit the floor. Thank God the safety was still on.
Billy was ready to fuck the boy up good, his fist hammering down on Steve like thunder.
But it wasn't Steve he was making an impact with.
David had jumped between them once again and so the unavoidable finally happened.
The punch knocked I'm off his feet, and Billy watched it in horror as the tiny boy crashed to the floor. Billy couldn't believe what he had done. David lay there, a hand on his cheek, his lip busted open and blood spurting out of the cut. His blue eyes looked up at Billy and the pain in them pierced right through the boy's heart.
" I..." he mumbled in distress, desperately trying to find words, wishing he could turn back time.
He wasn't prepared for how much hitting David had hurt him. It was worse than a kick to the guts or a broken nose.
It made his soul scream in agony. And it was only fair that Max rammed the syringe in his neck and flooded his vein with a drug that knocked him down like a cut tree, making him land to David's feet.
He could not move, he could not speak. He was paralyzed.
"You'll never touch my friends ever again, "Maxing demanded, glaring down at him.
With her red hair, she was fury in person, a vat covered in barbed wire in her hand and she smashed it right between his legs.
" Are we clear?" she asked. Billy would have nodded, but he couldn't. So he blinked, a teardrop making its way down his cheek. He had fucked up.

Pain greeted David like a foul old friend as his face sizzled, his lips uncomfortably numb. Still, it wasńt half as bad as when his father used to hit him.
„Hey Doodle, are you alright?" Steve asked softly, having dropped to his knees next to the boy who had curled himself up into a ball.
From all the stupid things people said because everyone did, that sentence must have been the dumbest. Of course, he wasn't alright. He was hurt. And he was so fed up, he didńt answer. He could feel how Steve eyed him, could perfectly picture the worry in his big brown eyes.
„I think he doesn't want to talk," Max whispered and she was completely right.
He didńt. Everything was too much.
„Guys, we need to go," Mike remembered them of the plan with a loud whine.
And he was right. It was urgent. Hopper's and El's lives depended on it.
„Just go," David mumbled just loud enough for Steve to hear.
Every word felt wrong and forced, his mind rebelling against the idea of speaking at all to the point the idea alone hurt. But this was important. „There's no way I'm leaving you here alone, dude." Steve furiously pointed out.
"I'm not alone," David responded, using the little strength he had left to lift his head up.
Steve's  gaze briefly roamed billy, who was still knocked out on the floor.
„I'm not leaving you with him." He huffed.
„Steve, I won't go anywhere. But you will. You need to keep the kids safe. You're not leaving them alone. And now fuck off." With that, David had decided he had reached his word limit for now and the discussion was over, so he pulled his knees a little higher to his chin, laying on his site like a fetus, gazing right through Billie and of into space, his mind a cloud of mush.
His limit had been crossed. Now he was done.
He hardly noticed how the kids pulled Steve with them and Max placed his gun by his side mumbling :
„Just in case."
Briefly, after she'd left, Steve's car roared outside and David began to question if he would ever see them alive again.
He remained in his position, not a single muscle moving, the buzzing of his migraine soothing him into a trance, its sensation the only thing in his mind.
There was no place for thoughts and feelings, no worries or fear. As if someone had pushed a button that disabled him from functioning as a human. He just existed.

There was silence encasing the two boys facing each other on the floor, both unable to move. But different from David, Billy could still think and see clearly and eyed the tiny boy intensely.
Over the course of his staring, he had come to the inevitable conclusion that he, Billy Hargrove, had feelings for David Byers. It was absurd, dumb and so unreasonable given he had never felt this way for anyone before. But he was done with denying that that longing did very much exist. And this revelation had come very much too late. He had punched the boy he liked. In the face.
The cut lip had stopped bleeding but it was still a horrible sight regardless. He should have stopped when David told him to. The situation would be different then. Now he was nothing but a stupid ragged doll, paralyzed by a drug he neither knew the name nor the effect of. 
This was such a dumb way to spend time with your crush. Speaking of David, the boy's eyes were looking at him, but they weren't seeing him. He could tell by the absent gloss. Something was wrong with him and Billy couldn't help.
Because he was a stupid idiot. When had he become like his dad? He had sworn to never lay hands on the people he loved when he watched his father beat his mother across the kitchen counter of their home. He hated his father. With all his heart.

Suddenly, after what must have been at least an hour or more, there was movement to the other boy. It was Suttle, but definitely there. First, his hand twitched, then his nose wiggled and his gaze snapped back to reality meeting Billy's.

David had reached a state of complete tiredness, his mind now blank. He felt empty, but he could see the tears silently running out of Billy's eyes, falling to the floor into a tiny puddle. But why was the boy sad?
It was a trained instinct whenever he saw someone cry as he stretched out a hand and placed it on top of the other boys in an awkward attempt to make anything better. And Billy blinked, his long dark lashes quivering. David let out a shaky breath.
Somehow, he seemed to have made it worse. Of course, he had. He gently strokes the soft skin of the back of Billy's hand. It felt hot against his own, frosty temperature. And Billy looked at him with so much pain in his eyes, and David's insides twirled in empathy.
His knowledge of how to make someone feel better was limited so he resorted to the only thing that always worked for him. So he robbed over and slung his arm over the other boy, pressing himself close to him, their faces inches apart.
He didn't need to ask if it was alright to be this close as Billy used the little movement he had left to tilt his head just enough so their foreheads touched. It was an apology, David could feel that.
And he closed his eyes in silent appreciation, allowing himself to rest in this strange comfort.
He didn't sleep nor did he try to, he  just felt how Billy's chest moved while breathing, smelt the mixture of smoke, sweat, and that stupid perfume with a hint of mint in every hot breath that hit his lips.
And just like that, he waited.