Burnt coffee stung the air and cigarette smoke followed. The police station wasn't busy and there was a lot of morning chatter about last night's game floating through the doorway of Chief Hopper's disorganised office. Prue and Grey had arrived before eight that morning but the good Chief had yet to arrive for work.
"What game are they talking about? Football?" Grey asked, leaning over the arm of his chair towards Prue, who was sitting in the opposite chair, bouncing her leg with impatience.
"How should I know?" she nipped back, her voice thin as she kept eyeing the doorway, hoping it would fill with the man's burly appearance. The sound of Neil Hargrove's belt making contact with Billy's skin still echoed in her ears from last night. The gross sound had even found a way into her nightmares.
Grey blew air out from his cheeks, bored. "I'm gonna be late meeting the party at the pool," he expressed, picking up the office items that cluttered Hopper's desk. Grey was already in his swimmers, ready for his big day at the community pool, while Prue was wearing a summer dress with her dirty canvas sneakers.
"The girls will wait," Prue replied, her knees bouncing now as she cast another anxious look over her shoulder. Still no Hopper. With Mission Strange tickling at the back of her mind, she turned back to Grey. "Remember when I told you about Dad being down in the basement?"
Grey frowned, dropping a paperweight back down onto the desk. "What did you do?"
Prue leaned forward, dropping her voice. "I went down there and found all his research on the Upside Down," she informed her baby brother.
His eyes popped wide. "You picked the lock?"
"That's what you took from that?" She shook her head in astonishment but continued. "With the research and the mysterious phone call I overhead, I went to the library—"
"You went to the library without me? You know I have overdue books that need returning!" he huffed out, throwing his hands up.
She shushed her brother. "Just listen to me, geez! I found out that Dad has been communicating with another lab in Morgantown, West Virginia."
"But Dad's on sabbatical," Grey butted in, his eyebrows wrinkling together.
"And that's not even the strangest part. I found an article saying that the lab is making experimental materials for extreme environments," she said.
"Like the desert or the moon?" he mused out, mind figuring out the puzzle, turning the pieces around and around till they slotted together.
"Or?" she prompted her brother further.
His eyes snapped even wider. "The Upside Down!" Further down the hall of the station, a door clambered open and the clicking of the elderly receptionist's kitten heels pitter-padded: Hopper was here.
"We'll finish this conversation later," she whispered to Grey as a shadow fell over the office, followed by a gruntle groan.
"It's way too early for this," he greeted the Owens siblings in a gruff voice, drinking deep from a steamy mug of coffee. He rounded the desk, flopping down into his roller chair, barely squeezing his hulking frame into it. "Please tell me you've lost your dog or something," he said, tired eyes swapping between the two siblings.
"We don't have a dog," Grey offered up before Prue cut in quickly.
"We do want your help though. The police kind of help. Someone I know is getting abused by his father and—"
Hopper rested his elbows on the desk. "Who's the kid?" he demanded to know.
"Billy Hargrove and possibly his little sister," Prue explained. "They live on Old Cherry Road and we were over there last night for dinner and—"
"Have you got any evidence?" Hopper interrupted again.
"Evidence? I'm telling you that Billy is getting abused at home!" she fired back, her voice growing thunderous.
"And I can't just kick in a door and arrest a citizen on the word of a teenager," Hopper pointed out, his voice matching Prue's easily, the sounds clashing together.
"What about if I get you evidence?" she replied impulsively. She was a resourceful girl, maybe she could get some evidence and have Neil Hargrove charged or something. She felt desperate to stop the violence that occurred in the house on Old Cherry Road.
Hopper dragged a hand over his face. "Does your father know you're here?"
"What's that got to do with anything?" she hissed at the man, anger bubbling up her throat.
"Is there anything you can do? To help Max... and Billy, of course," Grey interjected, trying to steer this conversation away from a yelling match between his sister and the Chief of Police.
"I can pop one of the deputies on it for you," he suggested.
Prue baulked at the Chief, mouth agape. "That's it?"
Hopper sighed deeply, his chest vibrating with the effort. "Look, kid. I get that you're concerned about your boyfriend—"
"He's not my boyfriend," Prue interrupted and Grey scratched at his head, doubting Prue's words. And in reality, Prue didn't know what to consider Billy Hargrove.
"Whatever. Domestic abuse situations can be real difficult. And he's eighteen, right? So legally there's not much I can do." Prue's face softened and she blinked away a fresh wave of tears that wanted to spill down her cheeks. Hopper let out another breath, leaning over his desk further. "If you can get him into the station, I can have a chat with him and go from there."
Prue's defence dropped, her shoulders bowing. She knew Hopper was right but she felt useless because she couldn't help Billy. "Thanks, Chief," she finally said and Grey nodded in agreement. The teenagers gathered themselves, heading for the door.
"Say hi to your dad for me. And try to stay out of trouble, will ya? I've got enough rebellious teens to worry about," Hopper called out.
◈
Sunshine made the surface of the pool blinding and this early in the day the community pool was rather quiet still. There were some old ladies treading water, getting some exercise before the sun got too high and too hot. Grey was already dashing away from Prue, spotting his group of girls filling up water pistols, already sucking on ice pops (that Patrick Turner had given to them for free from the canteen). The morning sun was heavenly on her shoulders as Prue strolled the edges around the pool, searching for a blond badass. She found Billy Hargrove in the shallow end, teaching a bunch of kids to doggie-paddle. The water barely came up to his waist and he was patient with the children, holding them afloat when they needed it. A smile picked up Prue's cheeks and she lowered herself down onto one of the pool chairs, resting her chin on her balled hand as she watched Billy conducting his swimming lesson. It was rare to see Billy in public without his guard up, without his brutal bravado in place like brick walls. One of his students kicked up a splash of water, dousing Billy's face with cool water and he laughed, his smile warm and gentle. Prue's heart sank at the scene, tarnished by the memory of last night. She knew that Billy could be violent and aggressive, but that wasn't the only thing he could be. As he wiped droplets from his face, he spotted Prue sitting a little away, warming in the sunlight. He jerked his chin upwards, acknowledging her presence and his smile only grew brighter as he finished up his lesson, helping the kids out of the pool safely.
Prue chewed at her lip as she waited for Billy, who was towelling off as he said goodbye to some little ones. She didn't know how she was going to convince Billy to go and see Hopper, the whole idea seemed impossible.
"Baby... what are you doing here?" The lightness that had eclipsed his features only minutes ago had disappeared with clouds. Prue stood quickly, dragging her nervous hands down the soft material of her sundress.
"I had to drop Grey off and I figured you might be around," she claimed, her eyes racking over Billy's skin, trying to find purple and blue smudges of colour against the bronze.
Billy saw right through her facade. "Are you looking for bruises?" he asked coldly.
Prue looked to her feet, shrugging her shoulders. "Maybe," she admitted softly. He slipped his hand around hers and tugged her along, leading her towards the community pool's supply closet, looking for a slice of privacy. Shelves lined the small room that was damp and smelt of chlorine and the only light was from the high rectangular windows. After closing the door, Billy turned around to face her, eyes shadowed and jaw set.
"You don't need to do this," Billy told her.
"Do what?" she deflected, eyes still scanning his flesh for blooming bruises. She wanted to bring up Hopper but she knew Billy would feel betrayed if she told him that she had divulged his home environment to the police.
"Try to make it better," he said, his eyes capturing hers but Prue looked down again, unable to bear the shadows in his blue eyes. She knew the reason behind those shadows and it made her heart ache, beating slow and heavy. Billy had the tendency to bottle up his father's violence until it wrapped around his bones and needed to be released onto others. He did this in two forms: more violence or sex. Now it was a guessing game as to when and where and how Billy would release the rage and the fury and pain that smothered him. He moved closer to Prue, his body heat calling out to her.
She felt herself crumbling, her utter helplessness pooling in her eyes. "But can't I at least try?" she whispered out, still not reaching Billy's stare. There was a long beat of silence and she wasn't sure what Billy would do, how he would react. He stepped closer to the girl, and slowly lifted her chin higher, guiding her towards his eyes, his face. No one had ever wanted to help Billy Hargrove before and his bravado was slipping away like sand through fingers as he looked at that storm of a girl that wanted to help him, that wanted to make everything just a little bit better. He couldn't tell her that she was already making things better, the words wouldn't form on his tongue but he needed to show her that. His hand moved from her chin and guided along her jawline before curling around her neck. With a shimmer of tears in her eyes, she met Billy's shadowed ones, the blue deeper than the ocean. Billy drew himself in, trying to express everything he couldn't say to Prue through his eyes. He was so close that Prue could smell the chlorine on his skin; she hooked her fingers around the pendant Billy wore on a chain around his neck and tugged him even closer, his lips even closer. In the next breath, their lips were touching, soft and gentle. Her heart was soaring as her blood swelled and she granted Billy access immediately. He skillfully backed Prue up against the shelf before wrapping his arms around her as his tongue traced her bottom lip. She could feel the violence under his skin, wanting to come out. She could feel how it made his fingers press deeper into her skin, almost desperately. And she found that she didn't mind the strength or the power of Billy's hands as they gripped the flesh on her hips, snaking around her back.
"Prue," he murmured into her lips and the word was loaded with so much emotion. Every emotion he couldn't express, every emotion he didn't even know he was capable of. But he knew his violence was searching for a way out, he could feel it coil around his muscles and he couldn't chase it down.
"It's okay, Billy," she purred out, flustered and wanting. She moved her hands to his shoulders, exploring the tendons of tight muscles there as Billy dropped for a moment to hoist her up, bracing them against the shelf. She folded her legs around Billy's waist, his lips bruising hers with heat. The metal pinched into Prue's back but all she could feel was Billy's hands on her thighs, one slipping under the skirt of her sundress, fingers slipping under the hem of her underwear. A gasp crawled up her throat and she arched her back, feeling feverish from Billy's touch. She dug in her fingernails as Billy bit at her neck, his muscles screaming. In a flushing moment, Billy's lips moved back to hers, hungry and alive. And for a time the world was as simple as a boy wanting a girl and that girl wanting that boy in return. But the tragic truth was that the world wasn't simple, but dark and strange.
The door to the supply closet pushed open and Heather Holloway paused in the doorway, letting sunshine wash across the concrete floor. "Oh—my bad. Sorry for the interruption," the teenager girl announced, a curl of astonishment sounding in her voice. Billy lowered Prue to the ground and shot Heather a sharp look over his shoulder, one hand pressed up against the shelf.
"You need something, Heather?" his voice was throaty.
"It's your turn up in the chair," she said, smirking at the caught pair. Prue was blushing hard as she brushed down her sundress, covering her flushing skin.
"Okay, I'll be out in a sec," he replied. He waited till the door was closed again before turning his attention back to Prue. He loved the pink, euphoric glow in her cheeks and loved even more that he was the reason for it.
Laughter bubbled on her tongue, lips red and swollen. "We always get caught," she observed.
"That's half the fun, right?" Billy grinned, leaning down to give her one more kiss; sweet and gentle again.
"Meet me at the arcade tonight?" she asked, brushing her fingers through Billy's curls, fixing his golden mane.
Billy nodded, eyes wandering over the tiny impression of a bitemark on her neck: it would fade quickly. "Sorry about that," he said, lifting the fallen strap of her sundress back into place.
She shrugged her shoulders a little. "Just a souvenir." She could still taste Billy on her lips for the rest of the day.
- Author's Note -
Alrighty, so I feel like this chapter might be a little controversial for some readers who might not like Prue helping Billy release his anger in a sexual fashion (and it doesn't have to be read that way either), but we all know that violence and sex are bigs parts of Billy's character and personality. And I do think sometimes they go hand-in-hand... not in the sense that he'd hurt Prue or anything hardcore, just that he'd be a little aggressive in the sheets. That being said, I do believe that while Billy harbours a lot of anger and violence and pain, he can be gentle and tender. I love the idea of a soft, beach babe Billy and Prue in another dimension, I only want that for him and Prue. I also believe that Billy Hargrove is capable of love, even with his terrible actions and flaws. Yes, he does mean things, but so do many other "bad" characters. And while his character is very much a villain in the sense of an antagonist, he is not a villain that cannot be redeemed (not that one good action cures all the bad ones). And at the end of everything, he is just a boy that has done some bad things and made some mistakes and didn't get the chance to break out of his father's cycle of abuse. But please don't think that means he can't love or doesn't deserve to be loved, because he's not a monster, he's just a boy. Okay, rant over!
On a lighter note, my Steve Harrington story is alive. It's called Super Trouper and features Jess Fontana (you might remember her from an earlier chapter) but please check it out if you feel so inclined. I have popped the link in the comments!