harringrove fanfic

Partie 1 sans titre

Chapter I

Since that night at the Byers, Billy felt like shit. He had lost sleep, even if it was already light before. Now he spent all his nights crying, silently of course, or sneaking out to punch things. It was often a mix of the two, crying and yelling his rage while punching a tree in the nearest forest. Sometimes he even went to the quarry, his father's words intruding his mind, wondering how it would feel to just...jump. He would be so free, he wouldn't have to worry anymore. But he never did. He never had the balls. God he was such a coward, not even capable of ending his shitty life.

If he felt like that, it was because that night he saw the thing he feared the most to see. Because when Max yelled after him, a bat full of nails in hands, he saw himself. He saw this little boy who just understood that whatever he did, it would never stop. He saw her doing what he had always wanted to do, but that he never did because he had always been so fucking afraid. And that sight had felt worse than all the punches he ever received because if Max was him, then he was the person he swore himself to never become. He was a monster. He was his father. And he hated himself for it, but he hated himself even more because he didn't know how to stop. All those years he had covered all of his emotions with anger, because "Men don't cry, only faggots cry, are you a fag son?" So now he was just a gigantic ball of rage that could explode anytime and that scared him so fucking much, but he didn't know what to do. He was just so fucking lost.

He really didn't want a fight that night. He just wanted to pick up Max and go home because he was way too tired to deal with the consequences if he didn't. But then he saw Harrington, with his gigantic hair and big brown eyes, and his father had called him a faggot earlier, and he was mad again because King Steve -pretty boy- was the living reminder that his dad was right. And he really didn't want to think that but Steve was the most beautiful person he had ever seen and he was so afraid to even just think about it because what if his dad ever found out that it had started again? He was so fucking afraid because last time Max caught him and now they were here, in fucking Nowhere, Indiana and he had lost everything. His friends, the ocean, the sun, he missed it all. He felt so alone. The worst part was, he had believed his father. When he said that it was just because he had "the wrong friends", that California was just "too gentle with this type of thing" and that they were moving in maybe the most homophobic place in the world to "cure" him, because "No son of mine is gonna be a fucking fag, understand boy?" he had genuinely thought that it would work. But here was Steve fucking Harrington and everything he told himself just flew away because the guy was honestly the prettiest. Damn, he was terrified.

Then he saw Max with the Sinclair kid and everything went wrong. Then everything screamed trouble for him because God knows what would happen to him, what would happen to her if his father ever found out his golden daughter was hanging out with a black kid. He had tried to warn her, but she just didn't give a fuck, so if he scared the guy, he would understand, right? He would leave her alone and that would make one thing less for Billy to worry about. But then Harrington came to protect the kid, like a damn mom and gave Billy a fucking order. And so Billy lost his mind because nobody tells him what to do. Nobody but his dad, and Harrington sure as hell wasn't his father. But for a second, it felt like he was and then he was smashing a fucking plate on his father's head. After that he didn't remember much, he had sort of blacked out from all of this rage and let's say it, the syringe hadn't really helped with that. He just remembered thinking at one point that maybe, if he punched hard enough, Harrington's face would stop being so fucking pretty. No need to say it didn't work. So here he was, alone, crying in the forest, way too late at night or way too early in the morning, thinking about all the times he's been an asshole over nothing and regretting. Sometimes he wanted to get up and go apologize. To Max, to Steve, to that Sinclair kid, even to that little bunch of nerds Max kept hanging out with. But he never did that either. Yeah, he was definitely a coward.