𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝟭𝟳. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙋𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙩

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙋𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙩

Dustin had a mission, an almost sacred one, if anyone asked him. Preserve the demogorgon's corpse. No matter how disgusting, heavy, or horrifying it was.

So he threw himself into the task with manic enthusiasm. He tore apart the Byers' refrigerator like a raccoon possessed, yanking out shelves, drawers, anything that wasn't bolted down. Plastic clattered onto the tiles as he crouched inside the fridge like a tiny, determined engineer.

"All right," he exhaled, wiping sweat from his forehead. "It should fit now."

He spun toward Steve Harrington, who stood stiffly in the living room holding the demogorgon's limp, rubbery body wrapped in a ratty blanket. The thing dangled from his arms like a grotesque parody of a baby swaddled for bedtime.

Steve grimaced. "Is this really necessary?"

He turned his head hopefully toward James, who was sitting on the couch trying not to look at the corpse. James lifted a shoulder in a helpless shrug. It was Dustin. Logic wasn't going to stop him.

"Yes, it is necessary," Dustin snapped back, already defensive. "This is a groundbreaking scientific discovery, okay? We can't just bury it like some common mammal. It's not a dog."

Steve sighed in total defeat. "All right, all right, all right..."

Dragging the corpse closer, he attempted, awkwardly to shove it into the fridge. Its limbs banged against the counter. A chair toppled. Something somewhere cracked ominously.

"Christ," he muttered.

After a few more seconds of struggling, he finally spun around, exasperated. 

"Help me out, please!"

Dustin hurried to him. "What—what am I supposed to do?"

"Get the door, man!"

"Oh. Right." Dustin grabbed the fridge door, yanking it open as wide as it would go. "Okay, I got it!"

With a grunt, Steve muscled the creature inside. It sagged and folded in on itself like a nightmarish accordion. 

"Oh god—" He slammed the door shut before any limb could flop back out, pressing his weight against the fridge until he was sure it stayed closed.

He panted. Dustin panted. Even the demogorgon seemed to pant, honestly.

From the couch, James observed dryly, "Well... at least that's done."

Both Dustin and Steve turned slowly toward him, chests heaving, exchanging a look that said bro. Seriously? You couldn't help?

Across the room, Lucas and Max were cleaning up the shattered remains of the window, victims of the demogorgon's not-so-graceful entrance. Lucas swept with the broom; Max crouched with a dustpan, scooping up shards that glittered like tiny knives. Mike paced behind them, walking frantic little circles, the picture of barely restrained panic.

"Mike, would you just stop already?" Lucas said, rubbing his forehead.

Mike spun toward him, eyes wide, voice sharp. "You weren't in there, okay Lucas? That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs!"

"Demo-dogs!" Dustin corrected loudly as he entered the room with Steve and James.

Lucas crossed his arms. "The chief will take care of her. And now she's not even the only one with powers."

Max muttered, not hiding her tone at all, "Like she needs protection anyway."

Steve marched between them, lifting his hands in a peacekeeping gesture. 

"Listen, dude, a coach calls a play in a game. Bottom line? You execute it. All right?"

James winced. "This might not be the best time for a sports analogy, Steve."

Mike threw his hands up. "Okay, first of all, this isn't some stupid sports game. Second, we're not even in the game. We're on the bench."

Steve blinked. "Right. So my point is—"

But he didn't seem to know what his point was. Everyone stared at him expectantly, eyebrows raised.

Steve cleared his throat. "Right, yeah, we're on the bench. So, uh, there's nothing we can do."

"That's not entirely true," Dustin said, almost too casually.

James lifted his chin. "What?"

"Well, these demo-dogs, they have a hive mind. When they ran from the bus, they were called away."

Lucas's eyes lit up. "So if we get their attention..."

Max straightened. "Maybe we can draw them away from the lab."

"That would clear a path to the gate," James added.

Steve let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, and then we all die."

"That's one point of view," Dustin said brightly.

"No, that's not a point of view, man," Steve snapped. "That's a fact."

Silence fell for a heartbeat before Mike suddenly jolted like he'd been struck by lightning.

"I got it!"

He hurried to the corner where Will's sprawling map, the twisting blue and red ink of the tunnels covered the walls in chaotic lines. The others scrambled after him.

"This is where the chief dug his hole," Mike said, pointing. "A way into the tunnels. And here—" he moved his finger toward a central knot of lines "this is like a hub. All the tunnels feed into it. If we set this on fire..."

"Nope," Steve cut in instantly, raising a finger. "Oh, yeah? That's a no."

"The Mind Flayer would call away his army," Dustin pressed ignoring steve.

"They'd come to stop us," Lucas added.

"Hey!" Steve barked, but no one listened.

"And then we circle back to the exit," Mike said.

James frowned. "We're not sure this would work."

"Guys!" Steve tried again.

"By the time they realize we're gone—" Mike continued.

Max jumped in, "The others would be at the gate."

That did it.

Steve clapped loudly, stepping in front of all of them.

"HEY. Hey! This is not happening." He pointed at each of them in turn. "No. Nope. Absolutely not."

Mike opened his mouth, "But—"

"No buts!" Steve shouted. "I promised I'd keep you shitheads safe, and that's exactly what I'm gonna do. We're staying here. On the bench. And we're waiting for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand?"

"This isn't a stupid sports—" Mike began.

"I SAID," Steve barked, louder than all of them, "does everybody understand?!"

A heavy silence settled over the room. Max exchanged a defeated look with James, who lifted his brows helplessly.

"I need a yes," Steve insisted.

Before anyone could give it, the roar of an engine cut through the house, loud and aggressive. A car skidded to a stop outside.

Max was the first to rush to the window. The moment she looked out, the color drained from her face. She turned back toward the boys, her eyes locking on James.

"It's Billy."

James felt a cold spike of fear run down his spine. 

"He can't know we're here."

Max swallowed hard, voice trembling.

"He'll kill us. All of us."

And James knew damn well he could.

From the living room window, the kids watched Steve step outside onto the front porch, shutting the door behind him like someone walking into a lion's cage. Billy's Camaro idled at the curb, headlights cutting across the Byers' yard like knives. 

Inside, the kids crowded together at the window, Dustin pressed to the glass, Lucas beside him, Mike behind, Max and James closest to the edge, watching every twitch Billy made.

Outside, Billy stepped in closer, face inches from his. His words were muffled through the glass, but the venom in them wasn't.

Then Billy suddenly stilled.

His eyes sharpened.

Slowly... deliberately... he lifted a finger.

And pointed directly at the window where they stood.

"Shit!" Max hissed, dragging Dustin and Lucas down with her.

They all dropped below the windowsill like dominos.

"Do you think he saw us?" Dustin squeaked, eyes wide, breath trembling.

James swallowed hard, adrenaline spiking. "He definitely saw something."

The front door exploded open.

They all jumped back, hearts leaping into their throats.

Billy Hargrove filled the doorway like a storm cloud with teeth.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, stepping inside as if he owned the place. His eyes, sharp, furious, hungry, locked directly onto Lucas. "Lucas Sinclair. What a surprise."

Lucas froze. Everyone did. Even the air seemed to tighten.

Billy's gaze slid next to him, landing on Max. She stood stiffly at Lucas's side, defiant but visibly bracing herself.

"I thought I told you to stay away from him, Max."

"Billy, go away," Max said, voice low.

"You disobeyed me." Billy stepped closer, the floorboards groaning under his boots. "And you know what happens when you disobey me." 

He tilted his head. 

"I break things."

Before anyone could react, Billy grabbed Lucas by the jacket collar and slammed him into the old grandfather clock hard enough to rattle its inner gears. The house jumped with the impact.

Lucas choked out a grunt.

Shouting erupted, Dustin, Mike, Max, all yelling over each other.

Billy tightened his grip. 

"Since Maxine won't listen to me, maybe you will." His voice dripped venom. "You stay away from her."

"Billy, get off of him!" James pushed forward on instinct and grabbed Billy's arm, only to be thrown back violently. 

He hit the floor hard, the breath knocked out of him as pain shot up his spine.

"Stay away from her!" Billy snarled, shaking Lucas like he weighed nothing. "You hear me?!"

"I said get off me!" Lucas croaked, and with a desperate surge of courage, he drove his knee upward, right between Billy's legs.

Billy let out a strangled, furious groan and stumbled back, releasing him.

The room went silent for a full heartbeat. Even James held his breath, stunned that it had actually worked.

Billy's face twisted into murderous rage. 

"So dead, Sinclair. You're dead."

He lunged.

James scrambled to his feet, Max helping steady him, but before Billy could reach Lucas, another figure intercepted him.

"No," Steve said, voice low and cold. "You are."

He drove his fist into Billy's face with brutal force. Billy staggered, grabbing his cheek, laughter bubbling up, wild and unhinged.

James pushed himself upright fully, Max hovering close while Dustin and Mike pulled Lucas behind them protectively.

"Well, well," Billy taunted, wiping blood from under his nose as he stepped toward Steve. "Looks like you've got some fire in you after all. I've been waiting to meet this 'King Steve' everyone talks about."

"Get out," Steve commanded, planting a firm hand on Billy's chest and shoving him back a step. He didn't flinch, didn't waver.

"Billy, just leave!" James snapped, his voice cracking from the adrenaline choking him.

Billy shot James a strangely calm look, too calm, the kind that always came right before he snapped. Then he swung at Steve, fast and vicious.

Steve dodged by inches and countered with a punch that sent Billy crashing into the dining table.

"Yes! Kick his ass, Steve!" Dustin yelled.

"Get him!" Mike chimed in.

Steve didn't hesitate. He landed blow after blow, Billy laughing through the hits like pain was a joke to him.

"Murder the son of a bitch!" Dustin shouted.

James's stomach knotted violently. He knew this. This scene. The shouting, the fists, the chaos, he'd grown up inside moments like this. His pulse roared in his ears. His vision tightened. His breath thinned until every inhale felt like a knife.

"Steve watch out!" he managed.

But he was too late.

Billy grabbed a ceramic plate off the table and smashed it against Steve's skull. The crack echoed through the room. Steve reeled, almost collapsing.

"Oh shit!" Dustin yelped.

Billy didn't give Steve a second to recover. He lunged, swinging again and again, each strike landing sickeningly hard.

"Billy, stop!" James shouted, panic strangling his voice.

"Holy shit!" Mike cried.

Billy seized Steve by the collar, dragging him up.

"No one tells me what to do!" Billy roared.

He slammed his forehead into Steve's with a sickening crack. Steve collapsed to the floor, dazed and nearly unconscious.

Billy's face split into a manic, triumphant grin. "WHOO! Get up!"

He hammered Steve again. And again. Steve's face reddened, swelling with each brutal impact.

"You're gonna kill him!" Dustin screamed.

James felt everything around him blur, the yelling, the movement, the world shrinking to a tunnel of noise he couldn't process. His lungs locked. His hands trembled uselessly at his sides. Fear paralyzed him completely, dragging him back into memories he had tried so hard to bury until someone slammed into him.

Max.

She burst past him, eyes blazing, a syringe clutched in her fist.

Before Billy registered her, the needle plunged into his neck.

He jerked, stunned.

"What the hell is this?" he spat, ripping the syringe out. "You little shit... What did you do?"

His movements slowed. His words slurred. His eyelids fluttered.

"What... did you do...?"

And then Billy dropped like a felled tree, sprawled on his back, pupils unfocused.

"Shit," Mike whispered.

James leaned in, heartbeat pounding behind his ears, trying to determine whether Billy was still a threat. His chest rose and fell in ragged bursts. His eyes fluttered. He was half there, half gone.

James exhaled shakily. "He's out," he murmured, mostly for himself.

But Max was already moving.

She brushed past him so fast her shoulder clipped his, nearly knocking him off balance. She didn't look at him. Didn't look at anyone.

She only had eyes for Billy.

Max snatched up Steve's bat, the one with the nails hammered through like fangs and stalked toward Billy. The room was dead silent except for her footsteps and Billy's uneven breaths.

She planted the bat's tip directly beneath his chin.

"From here on out," Max said, voice trembling in a way that made James's stomach twist, "you leave us and our friends alone. Do you understand?"

"Sc—screw you," Billy breathed.

Max slammed the bat into the floor inches from his crotch.

Billy stared at the bat. Then at Max. All color drained from his face.

"Say you understand," Max demanded, leaning closer, her knuckles white around the bat. "Say it. SAY IT!"

Billy swallowed hard, throat bobbing.

"I... understand..." he whispered.

"What?" Max barked.

"I understand!" he gasped, louder this time.

The bat clattered to the floor.

Max's hands trembled as she turned away to the boys, still shocked by the scene.

"Let's get out of here," Max said, voice softer now but steadier, as if the tremor had burned itself out.

She didn't look back at Billy.

None of them did. Only James.

Thank you so much for reading this far! 🎡

Another day, another chapter ! I'm doing my best to post at least one chapter a day and stay as consistent as possible so I can share this story with you.

But please, if I fall behind sometimes, don't be too hard on me, I'm really doing my best.