To Heal All Wounds

No Good

"I'll get a job. Get you better food."

Susan stopped her muttering and regarded him curiously. But she wasn't withering anymore, so it was something. Billy tried to offer her a smile that he thought was reassuring but realized that it felt more like a wince. He dropped the expression and hunched over his bowl instead. Better to busy himself with eating than remembering how to be human again.

If he ever knew in the first place.

"Billy," Susan asked gently, reaching across the table to touch his wrist. The wrist she'd pinned across his chest. Billy allowed it. "Where did you go?"

Billy didn't answer because he couldn't.

"It's been three years. You were just... gone and then now you're back? Did someone... take you?"

Yes.

"Did they hurt you, sweetie?"

Unimaginably so.

"Talk to me."

I can't.

So instead Billy stared at her hand on his wrist for a while longer before he pulled his hand away. He leaned back in the folding chair and sighed deeply.

"Anyway, I called Sheriff Hopper."

"You what?" The first emotion Billy showed his stepmother and it was anger. She shrunk back and held her hands up in defense. The same thing she'd seen him do with his father.

"Put your hands down," he sneered. "I'm not going to hurt you."

He would have said more, but a knock on the door interrupted him. Susan rose, but Billy was standing first. If the cops were coming to get him, they wouldn't get him sitting down. When he opened the door, Susan was hovering behind him, trying to explain why she called him in the first place.

"Good to see you, Hargrove," Hopper said as warmly as he could. "Congratulations, Susan. I hope I'm not interrupting any celebrations."

Susan shook her head and tried to smile. Hopper smiled back, clearly not buying her affirmation. But he said nothing and instead turned his gaze back to Billy. Hopper regarded him for a long time, searching for something, but Billy didn't know what it was. He never lost his courteous expression, though. That public facade that used to get on Billy's nerves so much.

How did he feel about it now?

"Step outside with me." It wasn't a question.

"I'm not going to the station."

"I'm not taking you to the station. I'm taking you to the steps."

Hopper didn't wait for an answer. He let the door close between them. When Billy followed him, he was standing at the edge of the steps, lighting up a cigarette as he waited.

"Joyce wants me to quit... and I was on my way but... these last 24 hours have been a bitch and a half." There was a small laugh in his voice, and the timber was too light to make Billy comfortable.

"Joyce?" Why did Billy ask? Why did he care?

"Joyce Byers, as you knew her. Jonathan and Will's mom? Worked at the hardware store? Ah, you'd know her if you saw her."

"Why did you ask me out here?"

The sudden change of subject didn't seem to affect Hopper.  He did, however, lose his smile and seemed to take a quick inventory of Billy's appearance. When normally Billy would bristle at such a blatant once-over, he now stood still, simply observing the man back.  After a long drag on his cigarette, Hopper finally said, "Because I know where you were."