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Chapter Text

Max sees him before he sees her. A knot forms in her stomach, anxiety causing her heartbeat to increase. He’s leaning against the Camaro with Tina Johnson. His attitude is the complete opposite of what he usually presents when he’s around her. He taps on his cigarette, dropping the ash while tilting his face towards Tina's. Charming smile, revealing bright white teeth. Plastic, perfect smile thanks to years of practice. Half-lidded eyes that gaze down at her with some kind of desire. Tina lowers her head, giggles, and looks at him with a bashful smile. This is what the other girls see. They see what is on the outside, what he wants them to see. He's the California boy at its finest: athletic body under tanned skin, kissed by the hot sun over the years. Eyes that match the color of the ocean, golden curls they like to put their fingers through. Billy is the epitome of masculinity, the curve of his lips is dusted with stubble unlike the other boys in high school, whose skin is as smooth as a baby's. A dangerous aura emanates from him, it's tempting enough that it makes them want to play with fire. He was already popular back in San Diego, but here they crave him. All he has to do is bat his long dark lashes and the game is done. Max wants to snort. She would like to tell Lucas and Dustin to change direction, but the bike racks are at the end of the parking line. She hopes with all her heart that Billy is too distracted to notice them, she knows him too well. She looks at the ground as they pass by them. Dustin and Mike are talking animatedly, they’ve been arguing about who’s going to play first the new Super Mario game that Lucas got for his birthday.

"Hey."

Max freezes in place at the voice behind her. It was too good to be true. Billy is staring at her, the expression he was wearing before is washed away and replaced by a look that from the outside looks blank, almost bored.

"Where do you think you’re going?"

Lucas and Dustin stop walking and worriedly look between her and him. Max tries to appear nonchalant.

"At Lucas’. Everybody’s going."

"You’re not. You’re supposed to go home."

Max saw it coming miles away. She feels irritation rising inside her. "We have homework to do."

Billy's nostrils flare. He turns to Tina. "Let's take a raincheck. I gotta take her home."

"But…"

"Oh come on, Billy. Let her have fun. Don't you think she's old enough?" Tina objects, attempting a seductive smile. She plays with the collar of his white button-up shirt.

Billy ignores her and steps away from the Camaro as he tosses the cigarette on the ground and crushes it with his boot. "It’s the rule."

"Your rule," she thinks out loud. "Billy—"

"Get in the car, Max." he cuts her off.

She knows there’s nothing to do. If she doesn’t do as he says, it will only make things worse. She turns reluctantly towards Lucas. "I'm sorry, guys. I have to go."

"But…" starts Lucas.

Max gives him a pleading look. She’s used to it by now, she can smell the danger in the situation when there is. "I’ll see you guys tomorrow, I’ll come another time."

As she walks towards the passenger side, she gives him a dirty look that conveys all the hatred she feels.

Tina slings her backpack over her shoulder, her eyes following Billy with a certain desperation as he walks toward the driver’s door. "Well, can't you come to mine after you drop her off?" she tries.

Billy tongues his cheek as he opens the door, his facial features hard. "Can’t. Another time."

As soon as he closes the door, Max feels trapped. The guys watch as Billy pulls out of the parking lot with such speed that it raises a cloud of dust. Billy doesn't talk for almost the entire drive home. Somehow, it's even worse than when he yells at her. The amount of anger she feels right now is almost unbearable. She can’t wait to lock herself in her room and not see him for the rest of the evening.

Things had never gone well between her and Billy since they had first met in California. Max had initially tried to make the first move to get along with him, but it had been short-lived. Billy had always been an asshole. But here? Here things are ten times worse. It's as if the air in Hawkins triggered something in him, the inner rage that has been building up inside him for years suddenly exploded. And he takes it out on her. At least in California, he wanted nothing to do with her. Now, something shifted. Now he gives orders, he controls her.

"Why was he that close to you?"

They’re almost home when he finally speaks. His voice almost makes her jump. She looks at him. Billy stares at the road. Max can already say what he means.

"What?"

"That kid. I told you I don’t like him."

"Lucas? We’re friends, just like with Dustin and the others." Max tries to keep her voice even.

They arrived in Hawkins a month ago and shortly afterward Max befriended the Party. She knows Lucas has a crush on her. She thinks he’s cute, but not cute enough to like him back. Billy made his dislike for him clear from the start. He must surely have seen them while Lucas draped his arm around her shoulders today at lunch break.

"I don’t want you to talk to him."

"Why?"

He doesn’t answer.

That pisses her off. "You told me you don’t like him. You didn’t tell me I can’t talk to him."

"Well, now you know. Stay away from him." Billy says.

Max is fuming at the imposition. She feels like there are vines that are slowly tightening around her body, imprisoning her. "He didn't do anything!"

"Watch your tone." he snaps, sending her a warning look.

Max glares at him. They’ve arrived in Cherry Lane. As per usual, he hits the brakes right before nailing their mailbox in Billy fashion and turns off the car.

"What makes you think that you can boss me around?"

Billy cackles. An ugly, crude laugh. "Need to remind you who the fuck is in charge of you most of the time?"

Max can’t stop herself now. It comes so naturally. "I didn’t ask you to—"

Billy grips her chin with such force that her neck hurts when he brings her face closer to his. A pained gasp escapes her lips. His cerulean eyes look electric, piercing through her with a hint of wildness and anger mixed together.

"Think twice before saying something you could regret." he hisses. "I never asked to have a brat like you in my life, yet here you are. So you better listen to what I’m about to say. That kid Max, is one of these people we don’t mingle with. And that’s final."

Max does her best to blink back the tears as her throat burns from rage and frustration. She doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction to see her cry. He jerks her closer, she feels his hot breath on her lips as his eyes never leave hers. This proximity is too much for her.

"Think I didn’t notice the way he’s looking at you?" his eyes scan her face, looking then down at her lips.

Max has to restrain herself from backing away, feeling uncomfortable. But something tells her that if she does, she will pay for it.

"You stay the fuck away from him. Alright?" he says slowly. His face is hard, his nostrils are flared and the muscles on either side of his nose stiffened in barely suppressed fury.

Then he roughly releases her chin. Max looks at him in shock as he tosses the house keys on her lap and lights up a cigarette. She quickly recomposes herself and storms out of the car. As she stomps toward the front door she harshly swallows down the knot in her throat and only wipes her eyes once she slams it shut. She doesn’t care if he’s following right behind her as she locks herself in her room. She can still feel his fingers digging into the skin of her chin, squeezing it hard. He’s always been a jerk, so she’s gotten used to his harsh words. But he never touched her once. And she has a hunch that this won't be the last time he does it.

As she lays on her bed and covers her face with her arm, she wishes she was still at the back of her parent’s house back in California, when everything was easier. She dreams of the sun on her face and the breeze in her hair.

Chapter Text

It happens two weeks later.

After that episode outside of school, Max limits her interactions with Lucas. When she does talk to him, she’s extremely careful. She always makes sure Billy’s not around and doesn’t take the risk when she’s in the school’s hallways. It kind of isolates her, because avoiding Lucas means avoiding the Party. She just doesn’t understand Billy’s hostility toward Lucas. Or rather, she does but doesn’t accept it all. It’s absurd. She doesn’t know whether it’s worse that it’s because of a racial factor or because Lucas likes her. Either way, the whole situation has been making her sick in the stomach from anxiety. The thing is, although she’s a sophomore and Billy’s a senior, it’s tough to not cross paths with him in the high school hallways. Today, for instance, he and his team are walking out of basketball practice when she’s changing classrooms. While walking beside the Party, she slows down as soon as she sees him down the hallway and falls into step with two girls in her class. As he walks past Lucas, Billy deliberately shoulders him aside making him lose his balance. Mike steadies him and when they turn around Billy swaggers along the hallway, stealing a casual glance over his shoulder. His eyes are cold as ever as they land on Lucas. Max deters Mike and Dustin before they open their mouth to say something stupid, like insulting or talking back to him. Her eyes meet Billy’s and she gives him a hateful look. He holds her gaze for a few instants, then bites into his apple and keeps walking along with his teammates like nothing happened.

Four o’clock rolls by pretty quickly and everyone is rushing outside of the building, but Max needs to stay at school for a few more hours as she’s been assigned a project with some of her classmates, and two of them are going away for the weekend, so they decide to get it done straight away. Max reluctantly walks across the parking lot, spotting Billy already walking toward the Camaro. She doesn’t mention the earlier episode in the hallway, figuring it would only make things worse and maybe he’ll demand she gets in the car with him and straight home. She tells him not to wait for her, that she has to stay in the library for a few more hours for the project. Billy stays silent as he lights up a cigarette, his unflinching gaze raking over her features to figure out if she’s lying. She points at her classmates, one of whom smiles coyly at him when he looks over there. At this sight, Max already wants to get the project over with and not have to speak to them again when avoidable. Billy doesn’t even react to the vague flirty attempt. He just tells Max to be outside at seven on the dot, or she can walk home.

When she looks out the glass windows of the library a few hours later, Max can’t see anything outside but her reflection. She sees her two classmates' laughing faces as they pack their things, the library shelves tall and stacked with books behind their backs.

As she exits the building, she can see her breath in the cold November air. She shivers as it hits her legs, barely covered by her stockings. She hates wearing skirts. She made an exception only because today was class photo day and her mom kept bugging her with it. The Camaro is a few feet away, a low and steady rumble in the night.

"Got your shit done?" He lolls his head on the side to look at her as she gets in the car.

She can immediately smell the alcohol on him. She hates it when he drives and drinks. His driving is usually reckless when he’s sober, when he drinks it’s worse.

She answers with a non-committal sound, having no desire to communicate with him. Especially after the stuff he pulled earlier in the afternoon.

Billy snorts, his words are not slurred together, but the extra lazy way they roll out of his mouth says it all. "So what, you’re gonna ignore me, now?"

"How much did you drink?" she asks through gritted teeth, can’t help but look at his hands on the steering wheel. At least he’s gripping it properly.

"Just a few beers at Tommy’s." He laughs a little, speeding down the road. "What is it, you worried about me?" He takes his eyes off the road, lazily exhaling the smoke sideways as a crooked grin lights up his face.

"More worried about our lives." Max mumbles, her skin prickling with anxiety as she feels his gaze on her rather than the road.

"Relax, will ya? So fuckin’ nagging." He says, his voice a little irritated.

Max doesn’t reply after that, not wanting to piss him off. They’ll be home soon, just five more minutes. They can do it. She still has to finish the last part of her project since her classmates spent the last half an hour talking about boys. The whole point was to get it over with. At least she doesn’t have to work with them again.

"Jesus." Billy says as he turns off the engine. Max is so relieved they made it home intact that the way he hit the brakes doesn’t even occur to her. "Don’t know why I went to his place. So damn boring. What a waste of time."

Max opens the door and gets out of the car, she can’t hold the snarky comment that feels heavy on the tip of her tongue. "What, was there no girl to exchange saliva with?"

She starts walking down the front path and hears Billy closing his door and following behind her. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

"Nobody interesting."

She stops in front of the house, waiting for him to unlock the door as she hears the jingle of the keys. As he seems to take longer than usual, she turns around. Billy slows down, making the house keys bounce in his hand. He looks at her, a strange look on his face. She can’t put her finger on it, because that’s an expression she never saw him wear before, at least not with her. A gust of wind blows in the night air and she shivers, maybe also because he’s slowly getting closer to her and he looks so imposing.

"Wanna know why?" he drawls. She watches as his hand puts the keys back in the pocket of his open jacket. She briefly wonders how the hell he’s not feeling cold.

She almost forgets what he's talking about. It’s dark but she can see how beneath his signature lazy/bored look his blue eyes pierce right through her with particular intent. She suddenly has a déja-vu, her whole being feeling uneasy.

"Open the door, it’s cold." she huffs to mask it.

But Billy keeps walking closer to her, she doesn’t realize she’s backing away until she feels her back touching the front door.

"I’m sure you know why." he slurs, his voice low and warm like dripping honey, and it so doesn’t sound like him. That’s not the way he talks to her. She’s so taken aback, trying to figure out what’s going on, that only notices his hands on either side of her when he presses them against the door.

"What are you doing?" she quickly asks, her pulse quickening. She tries to slip away but his hand grips her waist, keeping her in place.

"Easy there." he whispers, but his fingers dig into the skin of her waist and it almost hurts.

"Billy."

Billy’s breath is on her lips. She’s suddenly transported back to when he gripped her chin weeks ago.

"Relax. Just wanna feel you a bit..." he almost whispers, licking his lips.

When he kisses her she immediately pushes hard against his chest in alarm, but Billy is strong and his mouth insisting. He presses her against the door and forces her lips open, his tongue is hot and tastes like alcohol. She mumbles against his mouth, pushing at his shoulders to get him off her. Everything feels intrusive and too hot. She manages to tilt her face away, but his lips land on her neck instead and he starts sucking at her skin there.

"Stop, get off me!" she protests, trying to keep her voice at bay.

Billy pulls back to look her in the eye. He promptly grasps her wrist, squeezing it so hard that it’s painful. "Don’t." he rasps, his breath hot and heavy as he holds her wrist against the door.

Then he kisses her again, his tongue darting shamelessly in her mouth as if he owns her.

He manages to slip his hand under her skirt, feeling the hole in her stockings because they're old and she never fixed it. Now she wishes she fixed it. Shock hits her like a wave.

"Billy..." she tries again, feeling weaker and weaker.

She can feel his fingers inching dangerously closer to her clothed core. She freezes in place as he slowly slides them under her panties and touches her naked flesh, where nobody but her has ever touched her down there before. His breath quickens and his teeth pull at her lower lip while his fingers explore the sensitive area there. Max wants to back away, but her body is already against the door so she’s trapped against his muscular body, heavy and demanding. Also, it’s like her body is completely unresponsive. It's frozen. The only thing that seems to work, is the tears forming in her eyes. Why is he doing this? Why is he doing this on their front door?

She’s not really here. It’s her mind playing sick tricks on her. He’s probably so drunk he doesn’t even realize it’s his step-sister he’s touching. She hopes so.

"Please stop..." she shakily says as his finger inches dangerously close to her entrance.

Suddenly, they

Suddenly, they both hear the door unlocking and they hurriedly pull apart, Billy has the swiftness to step aside as she almost trips on her own feet, her whole being screaming in alarm. The door opens and it’s Neil’s harsh look that they find on the other side.

"What the hell are you two doing here in the doorway?" he snarls as he gives them the once over, his eyebrows knitted together in a frown. "Max, get inside. Your mom’s been waiting for you for an hour."

Max bolts inside, pointedly avoiding looking at Neil.

"Get your ass in here too, boy! You’re not going anywhere else tonight. I can smell the booze on you!" she hears him yell at Billy.

She doesn’t know how she will manage to face her mom without giving away what just happened. She feels like it’s written on her face and can’t imagine the look of horror in her eyes.

Chapter Text

A week passes. She’s been trying to process what happened at their front door ever since. Billy seemed to forget about it, acting like his same asshole self the day after. Maybe he didn’t even realize it was her, maybe he was too drunk or he popped in some pills as well, who knows what happened at Tommy’s. She’s pretty sure sometimes they take mushrooms as well. She’s seen him at school talking to Eddie Munson, and everybody knows Eddie Munson. He’s the guy you seek when you need something else other than cigarettes and booze. She’s been trying to make excuses for him in her mind, refusing to admit the possibility that he meant to do what he did because he feels something twisted for her. She’s been avoiding him ever since without making it too clear, just in case he would start to wonder why or get mad about it.

Like every Thursday, their parents get home later and that leaves her spending the rest of the afternoon with him at home. She’s not particularly stressed about it now, she convinced herself that what happened was probably just a result of alcohol mixed with something else, and she’s almost ready to get over it. She just doesn’t have to think about it anymore. But then Billy walks on her as she’s finishing her snack in the kitchen, abandoning his weights in the living room.

"Have you unstacked the dishwasher?" he casually asks as he saunters in, his tank top clinging to his sweaty body as he heads toward the fridge.

"It’s your turn." she snarks scrubbing the plate with a sponge.

Billy snorts as he takes a can of beer from the fridge. "I mopped the floor twice this week. M’not gonna touch the dishwasher."

Max doesn’t answer, washing the knife under the tap. She doesn’t want to argue with him, she’s not in the mood. Neil always assigns them the house chores, because he wants to “instill some sense of responsibility in both of them”. Susan does her fair share of the chores as well, that leaves him with nothing to do.

"Is that a new shirt?"

She quickly glances at him, noticing how his eyes rank over her as he gulps down his beer. She looks down at her white crop top, something tingling in the back of her neck. Neil has turned the heating on and it’s too hot, in the kitchen especially. "No."

She leaves the kitchen before he says anything else, heading to her room. He’ll probably go back to his workout listening to his stupid metal music which is still blasting from the living room. A part of her is not surprised when she hears him stalking after her.

"You wore it for that black kid?" he asks as he’s leaning against her doorframe.

"What? No!" she spins around, glaring at him. "I’m not even talking to him anymore!"

Billy stares at her with calculating eyes. -You know what happens when you lie.

A shiver runs down her spine at the low tone. "I’m not!"

He pushes off the door frame, walking toward her. She crosses her arms over her chest, taking a step back but the back of her legs connect with her bed. Billy stops in front of her, his frame so much taller than hers that she almost feels like he’s casting a shadow on her.

"You’re not?"

She swallows. "I’m not."

It takes all of her to not flinch as he lifts his hand toward her face, his big palm resting on her cheek. That’s when she realizes, he knew what he was doing that night. She knows it by how his face inches closer to hers, his thumb brushing on her lower lip as he whispers “Better not”. She tries to push him away just like she did before but this time he’s not drunk like he was. His kisses are insisting and his hands slide possessively around her waist. She stiffly accepts the kiss after he presses his thumb hard against her windpipe, his fingers wrapped around her neck until she feels pain, her eyes crossing from the lack of oxygen while his eyes glint with danger.

She wants to scream, to punch him, to run away. But she knows he’s stronger than her, that she can try how much she wants but he’ll make her pay for it. It’s sad how she’s just giving up, almost like the fact that she’s been expecting it makes it normal. This is the kind of thing that always happens to someone else. Or that would more likely happen in some very dark movies. Now it’s happening to her and she doesn’t…she just lets it happen.

A tear runs down her cheek as his mouth is on her neck. She stares at the ceiling, feeling helpless. "It’s wrong, they’ll catch us…"

"You think I give a shit?" he cuts her off as he pushes her on the bed. "I ain’t got anything to lose, Max. You seem to forget that."

Bile rises in her throat as she realizes the horrible truth, Billy kissing away her tears. If there’s someone who has to lose something here, it’s her. Her image. Her friends. She can't picture the look on everybody’s faces if they were to find out something like this.

"Y’know you’re mine." he whispers between kisses. Something twists in her stomach as she hears those words. She feels like this is all a joke, that she’ll wake up at some point. He can’t be serious. His body presses against hers as his hand creeps under her shirt, then under her bra. His mouth moves against hers, the slide of his tongue against hers less aggressive now that she’s not fighting him anymore.

She tries to focus on how good it could feel as her heart thunders against her chest, a whimper leaves her mouth when his thumb brushes on her nipple. He pulls away, their lips parting with a wet sound.

"I wanna try something," he says, looking at her with a heated gaze. He doesn’t even let her answer because he’s already unbuttoning her jeans. She feels alarmed again.

"No, please not that," she says.

Max tries to stop him by putting her hands over his. That earns her a scowl from him. "Don’t start."

He yanks her pants down, tossing them somewhere in the room. Max tries to get away from him but he promptly grabs her legs pulling her toward him and keeping them open.

"They can come at any moment." she pitifully says, her throat burning as she feels she’s going to burst into tears, Billy brushing his nose against her clothed core.

"They won’t." he snaps, looking at her. His eyes are dangerous and cold. "Stop whining."

Max quickly closes her mouth, biting her lip as she stares at the ceiling. She won’t cry. She feels him pulling her panties aside, her flesh exposed to him. Why is he doing this? Of all the girls he can have in Hawkins, why her?

"It’ll feel good, I promise." he whispers as his thumb brushes her labia.

She wants to scream at him that no, it won’t. It shouldn’t feel good because he’s her damn step-brother. But after he starts circling her clit, something very familiar sends a signal through her body. Something she’s felt before when she explored her body those late nights alone in her room.

And Billy of course notices it, an obnoxious wet sound filling the room as he runs his thumb along her slit. "Looks like I wasn’t wrong," he rumbles.

Max closes her eyes and looks to the side, pointedly avoiding looking at him and trying to dissociate herself from the situation, trying to ignore how it feels so wrongly good. But then Billy plunges his finger inside her and it feels weird but she finds herself squeaking, her whole body contracting from the intrusion. She tells him to stop, that she doesn’t like it. But he shuts her up, saying that “she’ll thank him later”. That’s how she finds herself panting indeed a few minutes later, his now two fingers sliding in and out of her unbelievably easily. She comes with a muffled cry, clenching around him with several spasms and he doesn’t stop moving his fingers until she’s overstimulated and tries to push herself back up.

Billy withdraws his fingers and sits on his knees, licking them clean. Max shudders when she sees him doing it. She almost thinks it’s gross.

"I’m not done with you yet," he drawls, as he crawls over her, his wandering hands lift her shirt and unclasp her bra against her protests. "Why don’t you just relax and enjoy it, huh?"

She’s stark naked in front of him, her cheeks burning in shame which doesn’t make sense because he saw the most intimate part of her already. He bends his head down and kisses her neck, then licks her perky nipples and her body reacts against her will. Every lap of his tongue sends a signal down her legs.

"Get against the headboard for me?" he hums as his fingers toy with her left nipple, his tongue licking her one more time. It comes out as a question but she knows it’s more of an order.

She tries to avoid all of this anyway. "Billy, please…"

He doesn’t listen. Grabs her easily by the waist and she has to support herself by resting her hands on his shoulders. He puts her down once she’s seated against the headboard.

"No!" she tries to push at him but he cuts her off by kissing her with such decisiveness that her head bumps against the headboard, his tongue invading her mouth.

"Don’t make me beg," he rasps, his fingers now twisting her nipple making her gasp in pain.

She swallows the lump in her throat. "Okay. Okay. W-what do you want?"

Billy’s features slightly soften, happy that she’s complying. "You face the headboard."

She reluctantly turns around, shivering as she feels him moving behind her, and then she almost jumps when she realizes he’s positioning himself under her. "What are you doing?"

"Relax. Just gonna eat you out a bit," he whispers as he tries to spread her thighs. She tries to slip away from his touch instead, trying to close them. "Open those legs, Max."

"Billy…it’s weird!" she protests as he manhandles her and places her over his face. Her face burns with shame as she’s fully exposed to him. She jumps as he spits on her pussy. She supports herself with her knees, trying to avoid physical contact with him. That annoys him as he grips her thighs.

"Sit the fuck down, Maxine." he snarls, roughly yanking her down.

She gasps as her pussy connects with his mouth, a chill running down her spine. His tongue laps along her slit with long strokes and she hates how her body reacts to it. It shouldn’t feel like this. Not with her stepbrother under her. As he plays with her clit, she has to support herself against the wall because she automatically shakes. It’s too much, she can’t say if it’s uncomfortable or pleasing. She pointedly looks at the wall, ignoring his mop of blond curls between her legs as her juices soak his mouth and his chin. He growls when she tries to get away from him as he thrusts his tongue in her hole, gripping her thighs in an almost painful grip, his fingertips digging into her skin. Then her thighs shake and give away and she’s fully sat on his face, an unexpectedly powerful orgasm hitting her against her will with his hungry groan as she gushes all over his mouth. Her hands are against the wall, and she rests her forehead against it, exhausted and dizzy, feeling the urge to close her eyes and forget.

Hours later, after she locked her door and numbly crawled into her bed, her homework undone on her desk, she thinks all she wants to do is fall asleep and not wake up again.

Chapter Text

It's Saturday night and the Party is meeting at Will’s house. Her parents aren’t home because of Neil’s company yearly dinner, and Billy went to a party. It’s the perfect time to sneak out. She will be back before Billy even gets home. He will stay at the party probably for the whole night and will be too drunk or tired to think about her. So she waits until twenty minutes have passed since Billy leaves the house (just in case he forgets something and has to come back). When she’s sure she can go, she leaves the light in her room on as a precaution and climbs out her window. Lucas is waiting for her at the end of the street with his bike; as soon as she sees him, she runs towards him fearing that Billy might arrive at any moment. She hops on the bike behind him and they run off together. She needs to hang out with them. She needs to get away from the house and from her thoughts. She needs not to think. When they arrive at Will's house, they find Steve Harrington sitting on the couch while eating popcorn. Mrs. Byers is not home because she’s working and Jonathan is away for a few days, so Steve is here "to babysit them shitheads." He says it in a bored tone but it’s all an act. Steve loves the Party and often spends time with them, especially Dustin. The boys pull out the Dungeons & Dragons board and try to explain the rules to Max. Max doesn't understand anything but can’t stop laughing at Mike and Dustin's attempts to give the best explanation and at Will's theatrics as he puts on the wizard's robe and hat. Then they debate which movie to watch as Steve discards all the movies he considers too "scary for them." Just as the boys bicker with Steve, they hear a well-familiar rumble approach from outside.

Max's blood freezes in her veins. She rushes to the window, which is briefly illuminated by some car headlights. The Camaro approaches the Byers house.

"It’s my step-brother." she croaks, she feels as if a belt is tightening around her stomach, stealing her breath away. "He’s gonna kill me."

The mood in the room instantly shifts. Everyone feels the anxiety Max is experiencing at the moment. They’ve seen Billy. It’s never good news when he comes around.

Steve takes matters into his own hands. "You guys stay here, you hear me?" he points at them with his index finger, his other hand on his hip. "I'm going out. Don't move."

When Steve leaves the house, Max rushes to the window being careful not to be seen. Steve is familiar with Billy. Her step-brother occasionally picks on him, like he always wants to make clear who is the strongest of the two. Max doesn't understand why Billy isn't at the party, but more importantly, she doesn't understand how the hell he knew she was here. She gulps as Billy gets out of the Camaro with a cigarette between his lips. It is all too casual as he rests his arm on the roof of the car and stares at Steve. They exchange a few words, and so far so good, but then Billy takes off his leather jacket and tosses it carelessly on the seat by the open door, walking over to him. Max can see the excitement in Billy's eyes. She knows that look. She would give anything to hear what they’re saying to each other. Steve doesn't take a step back, his hands on his waist, a bit overconfident. Then Billy sends him a wild smile and that’s when Max knows that Steve crossed the line. Time for her to count to ten, and Billy shoves him hard. Steve loses his balance and falls to the ground. Billy leans over him and says something, then kicks him hard in the stomach. Max gasps as he walks past him toward the door and she and the boys scramble off the couch.

Billy opens the door wide and it bangs against the wall as he forces himself into the house, his whole aura settles in and Max can feel the boys' nerves jump out of their skin. His eyes settle on her and she feels that it is the beginning of a hurricane.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, and she can feel her voice slightly shaking despite her attempts to keep it at bay. "What have I fucking said?" his voice low as ever as he slams the door behind him. It’s somehow even scarier than when he yells.

Max feels the urge to retreat when he approaches her, but she doesn’t want Billy to get near the boys. Billy stops a few inches from her, his height is somehow more noticeable now that she smells alcohol and danger on him.

"Billy," is the only thing she can say. She doesn't know what exactly she’s asking him. Maybe not to make a scene. Maybe not to kill anyone. Maybe both.

He stares her down, impassive. She knows everything is pointless.

"It's the second time now."

"Leave her alone!"

Max mentally curses as Lucas talks. Why did he have to talk? Billy turns toward him, and she just knows it’s the end, and she doesn’t know how to stop it.

"What did you say?"

She doesn’t dare to speak as Billy slowly approaches him. She’s afraid she’ll make things worse. She’s petrified. She exchanges a worried look with Will, who’s frozen on the spot beside Mike and Dustin. Lucas gulps, straining to stay in place. "I-I said…"

Billy is in front of him in one step and grabs him by the lapel of his jacket, forcefully yanking him closer.

A chorus of yelled “stop” leaves everyone’s mouths. Billy bends over Lucas so that he gets at his level and his face twists in an ugly sneer. "Seems you didn’t get the hint yet, so I’m gonna spell it out for you. You stay away from Max. You don't speak to her, you don't look at her. Is that clear now?"

In the confusion, Max doesn't even hear Steve enter the house and is immensely relieved when he passes her and yanks Billy away from Lucas. Billy stumbles a little and he’s not prepared when Steve punches him in the face.

He stands straight after a few seconds, throwing his head back in a maniacal laugh. Blood is dripping from his nose; his eyes are bright with excitement as he licks it away. That unsettles Steve, who’s suddenly a bit less confident as he stares at him, his hands are closed in a fist on either side of his body, prepared for a potential fight.

"That’s it, Harrington. Been waitin’ for ya. Show me what you got," he slowly walks toward Steve.

"Get out of here."

Billy gasps a breathless laugh. "You think you can tell me what to do?"

Steve walks closer to him, but it’s a big mistake because Billy just waited for this. That little something fueled his violent side. He head-butts him, Steve crouches from the pain and he takes advantage, punching him in the stomach. Steve’s fist then hits his cheek, but it’s weak and slow. Billy starts throwing punches, backing him toward the middle of the living room each time his fist connects with Steve’s face.

It’s chaos. Max yells in desperation. She doesn’t know what to do. They don’t know what to do. Billy is like a war machine, blinded by his rage as he grabs the lamp on the table and smashes it on Steve’s head. Max covers her mouth with her hand in horror as Steve falls to the ground, glass shattered everywhere. Billy straddles him and punches, and punches. The horrific sound of bone hitting flesh resonates in the room.

He's going to kill him, she realizes.

So, she does the only thing she can do. She walks toward Billy and desperately tugs at his shoulders, pleading with him to stop. Billy’s blood is so high that he doesn’t notice her until he accidentally elbows her in the stomach and she grunts in pain. That’s when he sharply turns his head, pausing his movements. Max doesn’t even want to look at Steve’s face, feeling nauseous. She blindly reaches for Billy and tugs at his shoulders again, trying to drag him away. That’s enough, she repeats, she pleads, let’s go home.

After insisting for a good amount of time, Billy listens. He drags himself to his feet, breathless. He wipes at his bloodied nose with the back of his hand. The room falls silent. Max doesn’t dare to look at the boys’ faces. She’s terrified, she just wants to get out of here, and knows there’s a thin line between now and when Billy loses control again just by looking at Steve’s unconscious body. He roughly drags her outside of the house and releases her arm only when they’re in front of the Camaro.

She can feel his rage still boiling at the surface by the way he breathes heavily through his nose and he turns on the engine with a jerk of his hand. She looks at the small lit window of Byers's house, still trying to process what just happened. Steve is still on the floor. He’s unconscious. His face is bloodied and unrecognizable.   

"Hope you’re happy now."

Billy’s snarl snaps her out of her anguished thoughts as the Camaro races through the woods. She looks at him in shock.

"Do you realize what you’ve just done?!" she shouts. She can’t believe him. This can’t be happening, this is all a fidget of her imagination.

"YOU MADE ME DO THIS! YOU MADE ME DO THIS MAXINE!" Billy roars while hitting violently the steering wheel. His outburst makes her jump on her seat and flinch. For a few seconds, she thinks he’s actually going to hit her from the way he brusquely spins his head toward her, his eyes blazing with fury. "You’d stayed in the FUCKING house none of this would’ve happened!"

She stays silent. Her body’s slightly shaking from everything that happened.

"You almost killed him," she says after a while, her face fixated on the window as nausea rises.

"Yeah. All that Harrington has to do is come near you again. I won’t stop next time,"  – he growls. "I’ll toss his body in the streets. And your little friend’s as well. Gonna make them disappear for good."

Her blood runs cold. “Barking dog never bites” unfortunately doesn’t apply here. She knows Billy is fully capable to kill them if he wants to. She numbly realizes they’re parked in front of their house when Billy turns off the engine. The lights are off. In a way, she’s glad they are so they won’t see she snuck out. In another, she desperately wants them to be here already, the prospect of being alone with Billy is sickening.

"You’re fucking lucky they’re still out. If the party wasn’t that shitty I sure as hell would’ve stayed out the whole night." he aggressively flicks his lighter open and lights a cigarette as he walks toward the front door.

Max thinks that she’s quite the opposite of lucky. Everything seems to go against her. She follows behind him while clutching at her stomach, throbbing from Billy’s hard nudge. As Billy closes the front door behind them, he notices and touches her arm but she promptly jerks away.

"Don’t touch me!"

"Don’t be a bitch. Show me."

She doesn’t have any choice but to let him lift her shirt; he looks at the forming bruise there. She wants to snarl at him that he didn’t seem to mind when he gripped her chin a couple of weeks ago or when he left bruises on her thighs the other night.

"S’gonna take a few days," he says as he lowers her shirt again. Then he adds, in an accusing tone: -If you hadn’t gotten in the way, I wouldn’t have hit you."

She saw a glimpse of Steve’s face earlier and still can’t take it off of her mind. She refuses to consider the possibility that he couldn’t make it.

Just then, they hear the familiar engine of Neil’s truck in the hallway. Max is extremely relieved. Billy glowers at her for a long time, then walks past her, and soon after he slams the door of his room shut. She walks toward hers in a trance, it seems that these walls aren’t even real. She desperately hoped that she’d wake up and all of this was just a bad dream.

Chapter Text

Max thought Billy would eventually get back at her for what she did that night. But then a week goes by. Then two, and he still ignores her. That’s why she’s taken by surprise when he does it in the middle of the night.

She opens her eyes. Her scream is muffled by Billy's hand.

"Hey, hey. Relax, it’s me."

He says it in a voice that is meant to be soothing but comes out rather gruff. In the darkness, Max realizes she’s naked from the waist down, and Billy's body is between her legs. She notices his bare torso because his shirt is open.  She squirms in alarm, Billy's hand is heavy and calloused on her mouth.

"Shut up! You’re gonna wake up the whole damn house" Billy warns her with a yell-whispered snarl, the thrusting of his hand against her mouth threatening and strong. He presses her head against the mattress and for a few seconds, she fears that he will break her jaw.

Tears pool in the corners of her eyes. The cold air hits her between her legs as if she were actually wet. Billy lowers the pressure on her mouth and mumbles something she can't quite make out, but his lips begin to leave wet kisses on her neck, trailing down towards her collarbone. She is thankfully still wearing the t-shirt that she uses to sleep in. He comes back with his face above hers.

"M’gonna take it off," he mumbles, his breath hot against his hand. "Don’t scream."

She’s starting to make his face in the darkness. He looks at her in silence, as if he expects her to give him a signal. Max knows she'd better not scream. So she bends to his will. She nods under his grip, tears spilling from her eyes. Billy slowly removes his hand and Max is relieved, but it’s short-lived. His lips cover hers instead. Max accepts the kiss passively, feeling the alcohol on his lips. She tells herself that this will end sooner if she complies. He doesn't kiss her aggressively this time. It is a slow, lazier kiss. He moans when his tongue goes past her lips and meets hers. When she feels his hand between her thighs she instantly closes her legs. Billy doesn’t like this. He bites her lip hard and forces himself a passage between her thighs, his fingers finding her flesh.

"Billy, please."

"Yeah. I love it when you beg."

A shocked expression forms on her face, but he can’t see it in the darkness. Her heart hammers in her chest. Her stomach twists in anguish but the rest of her body reacts as he begins to play with her, his thumb drawing circles on her clit and his two fingers slowly entering her. She refuses to give him any signal that her pleasure is increasing. But her body betrays her when she lets out a gasp and she starts squeezing his fingers. This only fuels Billy, who lifts her shirt with his teeth until the air hits her bare breasts.

"Why are you doing this?" she brokenly whispers, but she doubts Billy hears her as he starts licking her nipples with languid laps of his tongue.

And Max tries, she tries really hard. But when he starts sucking instead, she can no longer keep her body reactions under control and she reaches a climax, her back arching under his tongue and a choked cry dying on her lips. She feels as if she’s betraying herself, her face burning with shame as he pulls his fingers out and shortly afterward the sound of suction echoes in the room, and she knows what he is doing. She thinks it's the end, that he got what he wanted so he can finally leave. It seems too good to be true though, because Max didn’t fail to notice how Billy hasn’t taken any pleasure from these sinister episodes yet. She feels his lips kissing her down on her stomach, his mustache tickling her skin, and Max tenses up when she realizes the way he places soft kisses on the area where she still has the bruise. She doesn’t understand it. Doesn’t even want to understand the meaning of this gesture. At the metallic clicking of his belt, her heart falls into her stomach.

"What are you doing?"

She hears the rustling of clothes. "Time to show the real stuff. Maybe you’ll start to obey once and for all."

"No. No, Billy don’t, please," she whispers in alarm placing her hands on his exposed chest, his bulge against her folds and his boxers the only thing separating them.

It is frighteningly big. It will tear her apart. Billy grinds against her, his lips sucking the skin of her neck. Max jerks when his hand comes between the two of them and soon after feels the heat of his length against her. He is incredibly stiff.

"You’ll fucking love it. I promise," he drawls between wet kisses, the head of his shaft is burning hot and slides easily against her folds because of how much he’s played with her.

And then, without warning, he pushes forward and Max cries in pain. Billy's mouth silences her as he stops moving. It feels like he’s breaking her. It's all too much, the warmth of his wide, heavy body on top of her, his big erection inside her. Tears flow down her cheeks and she begs him to stop.

"S’alright," he slurs, his lips against her wet cheek.

Shortly afterwards his thumb begins to draw circles on her clit. Max grips his shoulders tightly, as stiff as a board, her throat burning. But somehow, what he does makes his passage easier, and eventually, he thrusts into her fully until she feels his pubis against hers.

Max can't understand how he got in. She has given up dissuading him, scared at the idea that he might get angry and aggressive, making the pain unbearable. Billy moans softly, his movements more fluid now as he almost pulls out and then bottoms inside of her.

"See.  Just gotta be patient," he whispers, his breath against her lips. "Shit, s'tight as hell."

Max doesn’t know how much time is passing. She only knows that Billy pushes faster, feels the coldness of his chain falling between her breasts, the wet sound of their union, and his mumbled words, his  “Don’t think that black kid can show you as much of a good time” echo in her ears. Max bites her lower lip at the painful intrusion, trying to be quiet, terrified that her mother or Neil will hear.  Billy's thrusts are now harder and faster, resonating through the room with a horrible sound until at last he pulls back and hot jets hit her belly, him groaning on top of her. Her body seems to sigh in relief with her. She’s glad it is dark so she doesn’t see his length, it would be too much for her.

"You better clean this up," he says later pushing himself off from her, his tone lazy and indifferent.

When he leaves the room Max remains silent and motionless, her body initially unresponsive. It's as if a paralytic drug had been injected into her. Then, slowly, she turns on the light on the bedside table. White, thick drops paint her belly. After cleaning herself, she turns off the light again and tries to switch off her brain, unable to look where it hurts the most.

When she is sitting on the toilet the next morning and sees the red-colored stream between her legs, her tears flow down with it.

Chapter Text

None of this was planned.

Initially, Billy just wanted to finally get proper revenge on Max for making his life hell. Ever since his father married Susan, things have only gotten worse. And Neil never blamed her once for anything. He has never touched her, treating her as some sort of delicate object. It's probably because underneath he always wanted to have a daughter. He’s always had something to say about him but apparently, he sees Max as someone perfect. Every mess Max makes is somehow Billy's fault. It's a chain reaction: more responsibilities, more blows. The whole thing with that little friend of hers and her constant disobedience was the last straw. Billy wanted to hurt her. But along with that came the release of something that Billy had been hatching towards Max for quite some time. Along with the fury, something else also exploded. At the same time, he realized there was another, more interesting way to hurt her. Somehow his goal mixed with the perverse pleasure of seeing her at his mercy. He's realized that making her compliant made things easier and distinctly more enjoyable and exciting for him as well. Besides, he could have realized it sooner: Billy is a guy of simple tastes, girls don't have to have anything special as long as they're pretty and easy; but then at some point, he’s become fixated on redheads. He was about sixteen. Max and her mother moved in when he was fifteen. Maybe that’s also the reason why of all the girls in Hawkins, Vicky Muller is the girl he's mostly fucked. Well, it isn't like there is much choice when it comes to redheads in this shithole of a town anyway. She is a bit annoying, that's for sure. She keeps talking and her voice is irritating. But she also knows how to use that mouth. Right now, she's using it in the way he likes least: filling his ears with nonsense. Billy was already half-listening to her, but her words become background noise when he spots Max in the crowd of students. She has her back turned. He only sees her long, fiery hair as she opens her locker. One of the guys from that nerd group is talking to her. He has a thick head of dark, curly hair and a cap on his head. Justin? Austin? Whatever. At least it's not that black kid. He's been watching her and she seems to have finally understood. That's been his mantra since he was about ten years old. Neil has always told him: those people are too different, and one way or another they always end up in trouble. You have to steer clear of trouble.

"...after class?"

Vicky is looking at him, waiting for an answer to a question he didn't hear. He licks his lips, his eyes fixed back on Max. The curly-haired boy is gone.

"I'll catch you later, alright?" and leaves before Vicky can answer him.

He makes his way through the crowd, making a beeline for Max.

He casually leans against the locker next to hers, pulling a mint out of the back pocket of his jeans. Max notices his presence and stiffens. He sees it by the way she slows down her movements for a couple of seconds, the muscle in her jaw tensing. Billy glances at the book she just pulled out of her locker.

"Chemistry?"

Max shoves her other books into the locker without looking at him, irritation reflected in her movements. "What do you want?"

A spark of amusement ignites in him. Usually, the fact that she talks back to him pisses him off. In this case, he likes to see that fire in her. He loves to rile her up. Seeing how she burns him with her gaze, how her cheeks turn red. A unique contrast to her pale skin. It makes him think of the other night when he had her under him hot and flushed, and he has to think of something else because otherwise, he'll get a massive erection. He takes his eyes off her and looks around, chewing on his mint.

"How are you feeling?"

Max shakes her head, clicking her tongue. She closes the locker, glaring at him. "You've got some fucking nerve, you know."

Loud voices approach, and shortly after, someone pats his shoulder. Billy flinches at the sudden touch. He hates being touched. And even more so when he least expects it. He resists the urge to turn around and twist that person's arm, and soon after Tommy Hagan's freckled face appears before his eyes.

"How was your weekend, man?"

"Fine, yeah. Yours?"

"Hey Hargrove, have you heard what happened to Harrington? We finally found out why he's been missing," interjects Chance Williams, a basketball mate, with a derisive smile.

Billy sees Max tensing up next to him. He sees she wants to leave. But they're practically surrounded by Hagan and the rest of the team. Billy decides to play it cool. Not because he's afraid of what people might think or anything. No, simply because it amuses him. He enjoys seeing them so stupidly entertained and unaware.

He jerks his head towards Chance. "No. What happened?"

"The asshole’s in the hospital. Looks like someone messed him up. Used his face as a punching bag. Dude almost ended up in a coma."

Tommy and the other guys start cackling like hyenas.

"No shit." he briefly glances at Max and then looks back at them, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Always told him to plant his feet."

As the other boys continue to laugh and make theories about what could've caused the fight, Max makes her way between the boys and disappears into the crowd. Billy laughs at Tommy's horrible joke, while his insides burn with rage. Why is Max so mad about Harrington? It’s not like he’s her boyfriend or anything. It drives him crazy. When he sits down in class next to Tommy he slams the English literature book down hard on the desk, making him jump. Tommy looks at him in silent question. Billy chews on his gum nervously, his cerulean eyes fixed on the blackboard as the class fills with students. He sees Harrington's face, swollen and dripping with blood. Then he grabs an axe and violently hits him and an awful 'crack' comes from Harrington's head. His skull opens, blood spraying from everywhere. It feeds him so much with adrenaline that he strikes again once, twice, three times. He’s no longer recognizable. You wouldn't call it a face. It's just a messy heap of flesh and blood.

"You're OK, man?"

Billy snaps back to reality. He turns to meet Tommy's brown eyes, which look at him with slight concern. The teacher is now emptying her bag on her desk.

"Yeah. Yeah."

His lips won't leave Max's exposed shoulder as he kicks the front door close, her back against his chest. His kisses are gentle in contrast to the violent thud of the door. Billy is trying. But he's still so fucking angry.

"Billy."

Max weakly tries to take a step forward, but Billy holds her there, his lips capturing her skin, sucking hard. His fingers sink into the bare flesh of her hips under her jumper.

"No," she whispers. "Don't leave marks."

"You'll cover them up," he mutters, his hands slide up to her bra, finding her warm and soft under it.

"But..."

Billy growls. He pinches her nipples hard until it hurts. He makes her jump, her bottom bumping into his bulge. Lust and anger are mixed. Why does she always have to object? Why does she keep fighting against something she cannot win? She wants him too. All the girls want him. There hasn’t been one who has never secretly wanted him yet, even if they initially played hard to get they always ended up being a squirming mess under him.

He starts playing with her nipples, which stiffen almost immediately under his touch. His erection is painful, he feels like he's about to explode in his jeans as he searches for friction, his pelvis slowly thrusting against her bottom. Max starts panting as Billy gives her wet kisses on the neck and rolls her nipples between his fingers. A grin almost escapes him. He knew it.

He turns her around so that she faces him. His mouth is an inch from hers. Their breaths mingle as he stares at her in the darkening hallway. He doesn't kiss her. Instead, he sticks out his tongue and licks her lips lasciviously, from lower lip to upper lip.

Then he asks her, voice smooth and low. "Why were you so upset today?"

"What?"

Billy looks at her unblinkingly. He knows her better than he knows himself. Notices the way she blinks, how her eyes roam over his face but refuse to meet his.

"Don't play stupid with me. Y'know what I'm talking about," he mumbles. His hand reaches down and starts unbuttoning her jeans.

Max swallows. "I-I wasn't."

"Oh yeah?" his breath ghosts on her lips. She swallows again, he watches how her Adam's apple bobs up and down against her delicate skin. His fingers find her flesh.

"Yeah."

It comes out as a gasping whisper, his cock twitching in his jeans at that sound. She thinks she can play him. Two fingers thrust into her without warning, cruel. Max stiffens and bites her lip probably in discomfort. But he finds her already wet.

"That's why you ran away when we were talking about Harrington?" he asks, his voice even, his eyes searching hers, knowing she cannot escape his gaze. She can't run away from him. "Answer me," he thrusts his fingers inside her as he commands it. They get swallowed by the warmth of her flesh to the brim until there is nothing left to push in. It gives him some power. It excites him.

"No, Billy. I was just worried," she sobs, her hand closing around his wrist in a weak attempt to ask him to stop. He sees how her eyes are shiny. "I was worried they would find out."

Billy is not stupid. He knows Max is probably lying. Or rather, she’s half lying. She was worried that Tommy and the others would smell something, but she was also upset at the way they were talking about Harrington.

"Y’know you have to forget about him, right?"

"Y-yes," her voice is now broken, but the slickness that has built up around his fingers after he has started massaging her clit with his thumb betrays her.

Oh, he will wreck her.

Chapter Text

Since things have started going south, Max finds herself retreating further and further from everyone else. 

Strangely, it's not the moments when Billy's abusive behaviors surface that haunt her the most. Rather, it's the gradual isolation he imposes on her that cuts the deepest, paradoxical cruelty overshadowing even his most overt acts of aggression. She finds solace in the rare moments when Lucas is occupied with basketball practice, knowing that Billy likely won't care if she spends time with the rest of the Party. She still occasionally feels the burn of his piercing gaze from across the corridors or the cafeteria when she’s with them. When she sees Steve returning to school a week later, his battered body bearing witness to Billy's violence, guilt churns within her. The sight of Steve's bruised face and broken nose serves as a painful reminder of the events of that infamous night. She's taken aback by Steve's decision not to press charges. Steve attempts to approach her before classes, his concern evident, but Max avoids him like the plague, barely acknowledging his presence. She wonders if he has a death wish, glancing around for Billy’s presence.

"Come on, Max. We need to talk," Steve pleads as she walks away from him, still slightly limping after her.

"Sorry. I can’t."

"This is serious, Max! Dustin told me they haven’t heard from you sin…"

"For God’s sake, Steve, just leave me alone!" she snaps, not even bothering to turn and face him as she marches toward the bathroom.

He’s the one who’s been beaten up, but he still worries for her and the Party’s safety. The burning pain in her throat is too much and she afterward locks herself in one of the bathroom stalls to cry her guilt out. Although the Party understands that she is not to blame for what happened, the shock of witnessing Billy's brutality has left them more distant, fearing that being too close to her might invite further trouble.

The only moments when she feels she gets some control back are when they’re in public or when they’re about to part ways, like when he parks the car at school in the mornings and she’s ready to leave, giving him her usual sharp retorts and icy glares. She tries to console herself, thinking it's just a phase and that Billy will soon find another girl interesting enough to get his attention. She also tells herself that everything will be over after high school. She just has three more years left…

But then she realizes the situation is more serious than she thought when she sees Billy practically rejecting Stevie Chapman, one of the cheerleaders. In the cafeteria, across the room, he is sitting together with some popular jocks, and Stevie whispers something in his ear, clearly dirty words from the way she bites her lower lip and looks at him as if he were a piece of meat, her hand supporting her head as she gives him her undivided attention. Billy does not even reserve a glance for her, merely chuckling and bringing a couple of fries to his mouth. It is obvious that his reaction is not what Stevie expected as she turns away from him after a moment and looks upset as she stays silent for the rest of the lunch break. Max also realizes other things: she can't remember the last time Billy brought a girl home, and while she often caught him in the hallways flirting with some of them, now he barely acknowledges their presence. Max doesn’t know which is worse: either the fact that Billy touches her knowing that his hands, lips, and body touched someone else's, making her feel dirtier than the situation itself, or the fact that he apparently only touches her. 

She knows situations like this are rarely black and white, but she’s certain that Billy isn't the true monster in the house—or at least not the primary one.

One of the next days, she is awakened at night by a violent thud. With her heart in her throat, she sits on the bed and urgently feels for the nightstand in the dark room, finding the lamp button. The clock reads three in the morning. Neil's voice is muffled and Max strains her ears to listen. Billy's groan is the next thing to set her off on alert. Max gets out of bed and leans her ear against the door, the violent shivers that run through her body intensifying as her bare feet touch the cold floor.

Neil’s booming voice resonates from what she supposes is the living room.  "One more time boy," he then lowers his voice to a hiss, probably aware that he could wake everyone else in the house. "One more time, and that Camaro of yours is ending up in the junkyard! You hear me?"

Max swallows hard when another pained whimper leaves Billy. 

"I said, did you hear me?"

She can barely decipher Billy's response, so weak and low. She is not stupid. She knows what goes on under the Hargrove roof well even though Neil has always been good at acting behind the scenes. This, however, is the first time she witnesses it. She jumps in place when she hears Neil's footsteps approaching. For a second she fears that somehow he heard that she has woken up and he is about to enter her room, but the footsteps continue down the hall and she hears the door to his and her mother’s bedroom close, she almost releases a sigh of relief. From there on, there is total silence.

Billy is one his hands and knees with his head bowed, spitting blood and saliva as he struggles to find his breath, gasping loudly for air. She also sees a trickle of blood falling on the carpet, probably from his eyebrow. She doesn't dare question herself; the answer feels too heavy. She’s never seen him like that before, and panic rises through her, fearing he might die right in front of her. When she rushes beside him, her touch startles him but he doesn't push her away like usual. The sight of him, battered and bruised, leaves her feeling uneasy, a feeling she pushes aside.

With some effort, she helps him up, guiding him to the bathroom. He says nothing as she cleans the cuts on his lip and nose, deliberately avoiding the angry red mark around his neck. The whole situation feels absurd, almost comical in its reversal: for once, the roles are switched. Despite his towering, powerful frame enveloping her smaller one, it's him who's vulnerable now. But she can't help but let him seek comfort in her touch, his hands finding solace under her shirt, his face buried against her chest. Her hand rests at the nape of his neck and brushes his damp curls. When he seeks her mouth, his eyes red and a single tear slipping down his cheek, she can’t deny him that either. Kissing her is far from the worst things that he usually does to her anyway.

She notices how from that night on, every time Neil strikes, Billy takes on this habit of climbing through her window and strangely keeps seeking comfort within her touch, and though she knows it’s wrong, she doesn’t find the strength to resist him. Those are the only times when he allows himself to be vulnerable and therefore soft with her. That’s probably why there’s a part of her that can’t help but feel for him. She also quickly learns that the more she complies, the less it hurts. In these situations when he whispers her name, his mouth often tasting like alcohol and his voice laced with despair, kissing him is not as bad as usual; she finds herself accepting and sometimes responding to the kiss. His lips move against her with softness and practiced ease as his tongue slides against hers languidly. She can’t control the hot waves meaning through her body as he expertly plays with her, having learned how to get her ready for him. Putting his mouth down there has become such a regular thing that she went past how abnormal it feels. Call it self-preservation, call it denial, but she resolves herself to the thought that it could be worse: a stranger could do this to her potentially hurting her. Billy is neither a stranger nor hurts her. Her traitor body betrays her mind when he slides into her, fear clinging to her as a second skin as her fingers claw to his back in a feeble attempt to stay grounded. She’s constantly burdened by self-disgust as she grows wetter and wetter for him creating a domino effect: it only fuels his desire and gets him ravenous and insatiable, his lips and tongue everywhere on her mouth, neck, and breasts, leaving wet trails where they touch her sending more pleasure to her core. The sound of their joined bodies seems so loud that she forces herself to make as little noise as possible, her ears strained to detect any sound outside her room. What makes everything worse is that in those fragile moments, Billy has a particular inclination to make the whole thing even more intimate and she hates it. She can’t look at the ceiling or avoid him as his mouth hovers hers, his breath mingling with hers as he gasps and he’s everywhere: the smell of smoke and cologne, the scent of him, the tickle of his mustache as he occasionally kisses her messily. Despite her inner refusal, her body grows accustomed to all of it, almost finding comfort in it. At least he doesn’t demand for her to say things she doesn’t want to. He’s the one who talks instead, saying her name as he moves faster and she feels dangerously close to the precipice. 

"F-fuck, Max. Driving me fucking crazy." he slurs as his thrusts get sloppier, wet horrible sounds filling the room. His open belt rhythmically jingles with the jerk of his hips, having lowered his jeans down just enough to free himself when he climbed on her bed. 

She’s unfortunately learned how to tell when he’s close, and no matter the fact that she’s thankfully been on the pill since she was fourteen because of her extremely painful periods, the thought of her step-brother coming in her is still unbearable.

"No," she whispers as she arches her back in a desperate attempt to push herself away from him but in vain.

He comes back full force, his hips smacking against her and dread fills her along with the hot jets of his come when he pushes until his pubis meets her skin. Her mind gets clouded with her own climax as she clenches around him in intense pleasure and clings to him as though he's her only salvation, her twisted head momentarily erasing all anguish and anxiety with pure adoration for him. Amidst all of this, he stands as the steadfast lighthouse amidst the raging storm, his muffled groans fading into the background of her mind.

This is until she comes down from her high, reality brutally hitting her in the face. But nothing makes her blood freeze in her veins as when he whispers that he loves her, his calloused hand gently brushing her damp hair away from her face as he regains his breathing.

That’s when she’s certain that she might never get free.

Chapter Text

When humans find themselves in dangerous or uncomfortable situations, it's often said they learn to adapt. However, putting this into practice is far easier said than done. Living with Billy is like being on a rollercoaster. One day, he’s bossy and bullies his way to get what he wants. Another day, he’s strangely chill, almost gentle in his touches. And on some days, he totally ignores her. The worst one so far, happens after one bad fight with Neil. Paradoxically, Billy doesn’t take it out on her when Neil gets physical with him. The worst is when Neil uses his words as a weapon instead. The following morning Billy drives them to school in the worst mood ever, then gets mad because she tells him she doesn’t want to put her mouth down there. And she pays for it. After he coerces her into doing it anyway, he holds her head down, keeping her mouth on his cock while she gags on it, cutting her airflow as he thrusts his hips up and down. For a moment, she’s sure this is the time she’s going to die. Until he roughly lifts her from his cock by her hair, his electric blue eyes meeting hers with a dark fury. He tells her that’s what she gets for not obeying. 

Part of her hopes Neil strikes again because, those are the days when Billy either calms down or leaves her alone. She feels horrible about that, not least because she can't stand to hear the belt strikes, fists hitting flesh, or Neil's sneers behind closed doors. But in those moments, Max finally gets a break, and if she actually doesn’t, it’s not as bad as it could be.

Her friends have stopped asking about her situation. They see that she no longer eats as much during lunch break and notice how her blue gaze grows more and more vacant. They see her withdrawing. Then again, she doesn’t spend much time with them anymore, avoiding them when Lucas is around, though Lucas has started to drift away, spending more time with Jason Carver and his friends. When she is with them, she feels their detachment, a vague wariness. A part of them surely never forgave her for bailing on them with her stepbrother after he threatened Lucas and beat Steve unconscious. The latter completely gave up on talking to her, occasionally stealing worried glances in her direction but surely not daring to do any more as Billy always makes sure he’s watched, the heaviness of his sharp gaze on the brunette boy whenever he sees him. Weeks pass without her noticing, and soon Christmas arrives. The festive air doesn't touch her. Despite her mother putting up a Christmas tree in the living room and lights in the kitchen, the house remains a symbol of her anguish. There is no Christmas spirit.

After a nearly silent Christmas lunch, Neil goes to his room to rest, leaving the dishes to her, her mother, and Billy. That evening, when her mother goes to the neighbors to wish them a Merry Christmas, Billy appears at her door, his flat, heavy-lidded gaze on her while she notices a shiny new skateboard under his arm. 

"Got you a new one. Breaking it was a shitty thing to do," he tells her.

She wants to slap the look off his face for thinking this gift could erase everything he’s put her through.

On New Year's Eve, she stays home with her mother. Neil goes to the pub, and Billy heads to a party. For the first time, she can relax and let her guard down at home. As she sits on the couch with her mom, watching a movie, all the distress from the past few months threatens to burst out. She desperately wants to reveal everything, to tell her mother that her life is hell, that she’s experiencing things she never thought possible. She wants to tell her she’s lonely and needs to be taken away from here. She just wants her mom to protect her.

But when Susan turns to her as the countdown begins on the ‘Pyramid’ game show and asks, "What is it, baby?" all courage leaves Max. Part of her also realizes that seeking protection from her might be pointless. She looks at her mom, her eyes tired and empty, seeing only a shell of the woman she used to be, sitting in a living room with faded cream-colored walls in a house devoid of warmth. 

So she simply says, "Nothing, mom. Happy New Year."

Max is absolutely convinced that things cannot get any worse. But she has no idea just how much worse things are yet to get.

Lately, she's been exhibiting a growing defiance toward Neil, a behavior she knows will spell trouble sooner or later. Especially now that Neil has fallen back into his drinking habits. According to her mother, Neil struggled with serious alcohol issues after returning from the War but managed to straighten himself out. However, with his recent promotion being turned down, a move he made to Hawkins for it, those old habits are resurfacing.

Max can feel the tension thickening in the air at home, the turmoil evident in her mother's eyes. Neil's evenings are increasingly spent arriving home late, having lingered at the bar drinking, or sometimes polishing off an entire case of beer in one sitting. His behavior seems to consume Susan's attention, diverting it from the other darkness lurking in their household.

While part of Max is relieved that Susan's focus is elsewhere, shielding her from the shame that would accompany discovery, another part simmers with anger. Unable to fight’s Billy control over her, Max finds herself rebelling against Neil, almost unwittingly. She yearns for at least one man in her life who won't dominate her. Neil has noticed Max's defiance and is growing increasingly fed up with it. Last time, he had grabbed her arm so hard that his fingertips seemed to have left scars on her skin.

Tonight is the night Max crosses the line. With Billy still absent, and Susan away for the weekend visiting her sick aunt, Max finds herself alone in the house with Neil. It's funny how, when she and her mom first moved in with them, she was petrified of being left alone with Neil. Then, things sort of smoothed out as she learned to toe the line with him. Ever since this sick situation started, she's found herself dreading the idea of being alone with Billy. And now, to add to the mess, being left alone with Neil again fills her with fear all over again. It's like a never-ending nightmare. Neil isn't expected back until late, given his Friday routine of visiting the local pub. But luck isn't on her side. As she sits in her room, the sound of keys turning in the lock signals Neil's unexpected return, dispelling any hope of respite. If it were Billy, she would have heard the Camaro's roar, but it isn't.

He doesn't seem to be in a good mood.

Neil's shouting echoed through the house. "Maxine! Get out here, now!" he bellows. 

Her heart races as she steps out of her room. Neil stands in the hallway, glaring at her with bloodshot eyes. "You didn't take out the trash," he growls, pointing to the overflowing bin in the kitchen.

She had been busy with homework and had forgotten. "I'll do it now," she mutters, trying to defuse the situation.

"Now? Now? You should have done it hours ago!" Neil steps closer, his face twisted in anger. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I forgot.”

Neil scoffs, his voice slurring. "Sorry? That's all I hear from you lately.” 

Max ignores him as he brushes past her, tossing the keys into the ceramic bowl on the kitchen counter before going to the living room. Max goes outside to take out the trash, relishing the fresh night air. She wishes she could stay out forever. In fact, she wishes she could be gone forever from this house, this town. She does not know how successful this prayer will prove tonight.

She goes back into the house and pulls out a new garbage bag when she hears the passive footsteps of Neil stop in the kitchen doorway. He looks at her with hard eyes, waiting for her response as he holds out his pack of cigarettes.

His voice is low, as chilly as Billy's when he messes with her. "Care to explain what you’ve done with my cigarettes?”

Max furrows her brow in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Some are missing," Neil replies, his tone growing more accusatory.

Max straightens up, glancing at the pack and then back at Neil. "I don't know where they are," she says, her voice tense.

Neil steps closer, his eyes narrowing. "You don’t know?" he repeats, the edge in his voice cutting through the air.

Max feels the frustration bubbling up inside her. The whole situation with Billy, the tension at home—it all presses down on her. "That must be an old pack.”

Neil's expression darkens, his anger building dangerously. "Don't lie to me, Maxine. Who else would have taken them? Billy has his own."

"I said I don't know!" she snaps, her voice rising. "Maybe if you weren't always drunk, you'd know what's going on in your own house!"

Neil's eyes widen in shock, then narrow in fury. "What did you say to me?" he hisses, advancing toward her. She doesn’t realize she backed away until she’s in the living room, and before she can react, he grabs her violently by the arm.

Max struggles against his hold, her heart pounding. "Let go of me!"

“Don’t you DARE disrespect me like that! You hear me?” 

Neil's other hand lashes out, striking her across the face. The force of the blow sends her sprawling to the floor. Pain radiates through her cheek, but she’s too shocked to react to it.

In the chaos, Max does not even hear the front door open. Seconds later, Neil is pulled away from Max, pulled abruptly back by his shirt. Billy's eyes are blazing with fury and confusion and he shoves Neil forcefully, causing him to stagger backward. Neil is obviously taken aback by Billy's aggression; it is the first time he has dared to assert himself, and the alcohol certainly helps catch him off guard, slowing his reaction time.

“The fuck you’re doing?”  

"Billy,” Max stammers, but she’s cut by Neil’s voice.

“You stay out of this, boy!" Neil growls whilst pointing his finger and advancing toward Billy, but Max sees something new and dangerous in Billy’s eyes. 

She realizes the shift, that it’s the end of it. Billy charges toward Neil, not even giving him time to lift a finger and he punches him square in the jaw. Then again, Max shouldn't even be surprised. Billy is now as tall as Neil, and the mass of muscle he packed in the last couple of years does not question that Billy can easily get the better of him. Seeing him act, however, especially with such ferocity, comes as a shock to her. Neil is too drunk; he tries to defend himself by punching Billy in the stomach, but Billy does not stop. He keeps punching him in the face, one blow after another. Neil stumbles backward again, tripping over the sofa leg and falling backward. As he falls, Neil tries to hold on to something - Susan's flowerpot resting on the coffee table. He drags it to the floor with him. The glass cracks all over the place. Max, this time, cannot find the strength to speak. She is frozen in place, huddled against the corner of the room, watching the tragedy unravel in front of her. Neil's moans slowly diminish.

Billy straddling him, a sick sense of dejà vu replays in her mind. Billy's back is all she can see, his elbow jerking backward with each punch. Neil, sloppily and blindly, reaches for a shard of glass scattered on the floor. As he lifts the sharp object, something awakens within her. Terror laced in her voice, she calls out to Billy.

Max is surprised at how Billy manages to hear her amidst his rage and the commotion, or perhaps he simply notices Neil's hand from the corner of his eye. In a swift motion, Billy grabs Neil’s wrist, trying to wrestle the shard away from him. Neil, surprisingly, resists, his grip strong despite his weakened state. The struggle intensifies, Neil’s hand thrashing as he fights to plunge the shard into Billy. 

Unable to bear witnessing the scene before her, she looks away. She can't bring herself to look, too terrified to see the unfolding tragedy. But then she hears it—the sound of Neil's breath coming in ragged gasps.  

With a surge of dread, Max lifts her eyes and sees the blood gurgling from Neil's mouth as he fights for air. The force and angle of his arm giving out caused the shard of glass to embed itself into the side of Neil's neck. For a few agonizing seconds, the room is filled with the sounds of Neil's struggling breaths, the desperate gasps for air echoing off the walls. But then, as suddenly as it began, every sound ceases from Neil's mouth. 

The room remains silent except for their heavy breaths and the pounding of Max's heart in her ears. Billy still straddles him, breathing heavily, his fists covered in Neil's blood. 

It’s like time has frozen.

As the silence stretches on, thick and suffocating, Max feels a sense of unreality wash over her. It's like she's trapped in a nightmare, unable to wake up from the horrors unfolding before her eyes. Then, amid the stillness, a sudden movement breaks through the paralysis gripping her.

Billy's curse slices through the heavy silence like a jagged blade, shattering the eerie calm that envelops the room. "Shit, shit, shit," his voice is a low murmur, tinged with urgency and frustration. She sees him scrambling off Neil, goes to put his hand through his hair but stops himself before doing that, realizing how both hands are stained with blood. He wipes them on his jeans instead. 

Then he moves to wrap Neil's body in the carpet, his movements swift but urgent. Max watches in a daze, feeling disconnected from her own body as she observes him. She’s vaguely aware of Billy standing and marching past her, his black biker boots in the corner of her eyes. She’s also vaguely aware of the rumble of the Camaro, moving from the back to the front of the house, then stopping. It’s strange to see the carpet wrapped up this way. It looks too big and it’s obvious that something is inside it. 

Billy's voice gets her back to reality.

"Max," he says, his voice sharp with urgency, "Come on." he grabs her by the arms, helping her stand.

Numbly, Max nods, feeling disconnected from her own body as she mechanically assists Billy. She isn't even sure if she's truly doing it. One moment they are in the house, the next they are placing the body in the backseat of the Camaro. The only sensations she registers are the weight of Neil's body and how she trips three times on the way there.

She follows him back into the house and watches as he quickly sweeps the floor from the remains of the vase. She doesn’t even protest when he takes off her shirt, tossing it somewhere. Then he disappears in the bathroom, and she feels like he’s been there for ages. The living room seems strangely naked without the carpet. When Billy comes back, his hands aren’t stained in red anymore. 

“C’mon. Wear this and grab your stuff.” he hands her one of his shirts, then jerks his chin toward the end of the hallway and starts walking in that direction.

Once she has his shirt on, Max follows him, her arms wrapped around herself. “Grab what?”

“Just grab your ID and a change of clothes. We need to leave. Now.”

So she does it. Because what else could she do? She doesn’t see any other option. She can’t think of anything else if not what just happened and how she has to run as far away from it as possible. She meets Billy in the hallway as he walks out of his room holding his large sport bag, stashing bills inside it, his leather jacket on him. He urges her toward the door, and they quickly leave the house. 

They speed away like thieves in the night, driven by a much darker purpose.