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theladycarpathia · 2 years

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The vampire doesn’t make it two steps before bursting into flames. Robin spins on the spot, face hot with indignation.

“That’s cheating!” she shouts - as though she’s not wandering Hawkins Cemetery at night and therefore easy pickings for whatever undead/vile/demonic creature that happens to be lurking.

Billy smirks and easily extinguishes the flames from his fingers. The light fades, leaving them in darkness once more. Hawkins Rose Street cemetery is lacking in any sort of working lights, ensuring that they’re walking around in the dark. Which would be great for an ambush, if they weren’t hunting the nocturnal sort of demon.

“I was quicker,” he says smugly. Robin grits her teeth and stows the stake away in her jacket once more.

“You cheated,” she says, grumpily. “At least let me get my stake out.”

“One of these days, I’ll do that and you’ll be dead,” Billy says pointedly. She sticks out her tongue.

“I’m the Slayer,” she says wearily, unimpressed by Billy’s showing off. Billy’s only been learning magic for the last year, since he fell into the whole ‘Hawkins is sitting on a Hellmouth truthers gang' but it’s still a rush, still his favorite thing in the world to feel the flicker of magic under his skin. He feels warm. He feels strong. It’s a power that no one can take from him.

“Slayers die,” Steve adds somberly. He’s leaning against one of the larger mausoleums, watching the two of them fight over vampires. He’s tucked into his favorite navy coat, with the collar pulled up around his ears and a bright red beanie pulled down. Steve hates patrolling in the winter.

“Not me,” Robin says resolutely, her eyes already scanning the empty graveyard for more early risers. It’s barely even curfew and yet they’ve already had a busy evening - three vampires rising from their graves and one lizard demon have crossed their paths.

“You died sophomore year,” Steve says bluntly. He pushes away from the wall and wanders over to Billy. “Remember? Vecna?”

Robin makes a face. “I don’t intend on repeating it,” she says, churlishly kicking at a clump of grass. As though her death at the hands of the Master of all vampires was nothing more than a hiccup. It was only because Steve was there with his magic to help revive her, that there wasn’t a funeral.

“If you die again, do we get another Slayer?” Billy asks and shrugs when Steve turns to glare at him. “I was just asking!”

“I don’t know,” Robin says, drifting between the cobblestones like a ghost in cargo pants and a duster. “Ask Murray.”

“Probably not, right?” Steve says, and as they follow Robin’s path Steve reaches out to link Billy’s fingers with his own. “I mean you died and we got Nancy. If you die again and we get another Slayer and then another Slayer wakes when Nancy dies, that’s still two Slayers. I thought there was only supposed to be one?”

“So say the mystical old guys who wanted a girl to fight their battles for them,” Robin points out.

“Right, so another Slayer will only happen when Nancy dies. Not you,” Steve continues. Robin stops and screws up her face.

“So does that mean Nancy is like…the Prime Slayer now?” Billy snorts in amusement, eyes flicking across the graveyard for any more company. Vampires are crazy good at skulking around in darkness and Billy would like the chance to flambé them before they rip his throat out.

“That’s the thing you’re worried about?” he asks in disbelief. Robin shrugs.

“I don’t know,” she says, slowing her pace so that they can fall into line with her. “For so long I was the Slayer. The one and only, the Chosen One. Now there’s two of us. I’m feeling a little less special.”

“Not to us you’re not,” Steve says gently, because if Billy ever has to feel like he has to compete for Steve’s attention with anyone it would be Robin. “Nancy can get her own Scoobies.”

“I don’t think she wants any,” Billy says, somewhat rudely. He never got on with Nancy even before she turned out to be the next in the Slayer line. She’s annoying, a priss and always thinks she’s right. By the time Billy joined the gang she was already a part of it - going on patrol with Robin, lounging in the library with Eddie and Chrissy, keeping watch over Argyle for those three nights a month when he’s extra toothy. She’s also Steve’s ex-girlfriend from the start of junior year for just that little extra knife twist.

“Yeah, well,” Robin says, with a shrug. “She helps out with Slayer stuff. I don’t mind her hanging out.”

“I do,” Billy mutters mutinously and Steve squeezes his hand tightly.

Steve shouldn’t be so understanding of Billy’s jealousy but he is. It just makes it that much worse when he catches the two of them sharing an inside joke from before Billy arrived. Sometimes, he wonders that if they’d moved from California sooner, would he and Steve spent the last four years together?

A hand erupts from the nearest grave, freshly buried dirt cascading down as the pale fingers scrabble around for purchase. They stop and wait patiently.

“Must be tiring,” Steve comments, watching a second hand reach out into the open air.

“I almost feel sorry for them,” Robin says dryly, pulling her stake from her coat. She shoots a warning glance at Billy. “This one is mine this time, do you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Billy says obediently, saluting her. There’s a dark head emerging from the thick layer of dirt, and Billy winces as it becomes clear that it’s a familiar one. Shit. He forgot about the announcement at school last week.

“Shit.” Robin echoes the sentiment as they watch David from the school paper haul himself free of his grave and shake off the debris. He looks up and sees them, face morphing into one of surprise.

“Hey,” he says, brushing a splinter off his sleeve. Steve shrinks into Billy’s shoulder, horrified at being faced with someone they’d seen at school alive, only just last week. He always hated this bit the most, so Billy soothingly rubs his thumb across the soft cashmere of Steve’s gloves.

“What a surprise,” he says, as though they’d run into each other at the mall. Wasn’t expecting to see you guys here. Quick question. Am I…”

“Dead,” all three chorus at once.

“Ah,” David says regretfully. He tugs at a strand of limp dark hair, smeared with mud. “That is unfortunate.”

“Sorry, mate,” Billy says, because no one should die and rise again at eighteen. David nods thoughtfully. He looks like he’s about to scurry after Nancy, asking for her opinion on the placement of Jonathan’s pictures on the front page.

“I suppose you’ve come to kill me?” he asks and Billy raises his free hand - the one not entwined with Steve’s - and prepares to summon a fireball.

“We have to,” Robin explains quietly, face full of sympathy. “Or you’ll go kill, like you were killed.”

“Yes,” David agrees. He nudges at a small pile of dirt still covering his coffin. “You’d think I’d care about that…I mean, I certainly used to care but…the thing is I don’t anymore. Isn’t that odd? I know I should but I just can’t quite seem to bring myself to. Actually, all I really care about is that I’m quite thirsty.”

“That happens,” Steve says, from Billy’s side. He’s also ready for a fight, if it comes down to it. Steve’s a badass at fighting vampires, after three years at Robin’s side, although he’s always been slightly queasy about staking former classmates. Billy doesn’t have that - if you’re a bloodsucker, he’ll stake you, doesn’t matter if he sat next to them in Math the day before or not - but he loves that about Steve.

“Should have guessed it would be you three,” David sighs, heavily. The change isn’t quite on him yet but there’s just a tint of yellow to those eyes, a pulsing in his throat as he fights to retain any part of David against the overwhelming thirst that’s now consuming him. “You were always odd and no matter what weirdness went on, you were always there. What about Eddie? And Chrissy?”

“Them too. Chrissy’s psychic actually,” Robin explains patiently, as though they have time for a long description of their group dynamics. Billy vaguely remembers a similar conversation after being attacked outside the Bronze. “Argyle’s a werewolf. Nancy’s another Slayer. She’s not on patrol tonight, sorry.” The benefits of so many in their party means off nights. They all trade off. Tomorrow, it’s Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle’s shift, which means Billy intends to take Steve out. It doesn’t fucking matter where, so long as there’s no vampires.

“Out with Jonathan, I expect,” David says ruefully. “Shame. I’d have liked to say goodbye to her.”

And then it happens, so quickly that you could almost put it down to the faint moonlight, the flicker of shadows. His face changes into that terrifying mask of ridged skin and long, sharp teeth. It doesn’t do him any good, however. Robin has had her stake tucked away since David rose and now her arm strikes out, fast as lightning. She hits her mark and David only has time to look down at the wood lodged in his heart before he crumbles into dust.

“We should…” Steve says, heavily, gesturing at the grave. “He was just buried today. His family might mind.”

Billy withholds a few sarcastic comments and bends down to help Steve push the dirt back, forming a neat mound once more. Robin watches their backs, cautious of anyone else sneaking up behind them.

“Fucking sucks,” Billy mutters, brushing dirt off his gloves. He’d be quite content leaving the gaping wound of a grave open but Steve has lived here all his life, knows basically the entire school and their families to boot.

“I’m sure it was an inconvenience to David too,” Robin says dryly. She looks down at the freshly cut flowers and sighs. “I’ll have to tell Nance.”

“The joys of the Hellmouth,” Billy says, with a shrug. He doesn’t mean to be blase - it’s just that's how life is here. Moving from California two years ago had come with the unexpected bonus of finding out that the yearbook has a pretty sizable ‘In Memorandum’ section. He just didn’t know why until midway through Junior year when Robin saved him from a vamp one night, after too many beers at Tommy Hagan’s party. She’d staked the vamp as easy as breathing, dragged his drunk ass up and called Steve to give them both a ride. That was how he’d ended up as part of the group, part of the secret.

Steve’s casual comment about teaching Billy magic had been a genuine promise that Billy had been hesitant to accept. Magic, as if the school stoner turning into a huge werewolf three nights a month, and the crabby school librarian was in fact part of a council that protects the world from demonic forces, and that the head cheerleader having visions and dating the Dungeon Master weren’t all weird enough. But it had all been worth it. The first time that Billy had made a pencil float had been the first time the feeling of being helpless had eased in his chest. The night where Steve had leaned over and kissed him for the first time was the day when Billy finally felt like Indiana was home.

He tugs on Steve’s sleeve, pulling the other witch to a stop.

“Billy?” Steve asks, brown eyes huge with concern. Fuck, Billy loves those eyes. He may call Steve Bambi as a joke, but all Steve has to do is look at him with those big trusting eyes and he’ll do anything Steve asks.

Billy cradles Steve’s cheek, red from the cold, and leans down for a kiss. It’s soft, tinged with cool skin and the faint taste of Steve’s chapstick. Billy slides his hand up, under the beanie, just to feel Steve’s hair. He can burn vampires with a flick of his hand, blast down doors and shatter glass panes with one strong gust of wind but all he ever really wants to do is hold Steve like he’s the most precious thing in the world. Steve grabs hold of the front of his coat, tilting his chin up and when Billy bites gently on his full bottom lip, the sound Steve makes - like a whimper pulled from the back of his throat - is enough to have Billy hard in his jeans.

Steve is also a power that no one can take from him.

“Can you fucking stop macking and help?!” Robin screeches from behind them and they break apart to see several vamps stumbling towards them. They’re all fresh, grave-dirt still clinging to their clothes, attacking with the awkwardness and desperation of the newly thirsty. Billy flashes Steve a grin, the kiss stirring up his blood just enough to prepare him for the fight.

“Bet I can get more than you,” he challenges, watching for the moment that Steve’s gaze clears.

“Please,” Steve scoffs, swiping a tongue across his red lower lip. Dirty cheating tactics. “You’ve been doing magic for a year. You’re a baby who has a fireball and thinks that’s real magic.”

Man, Billy wants to bite that petulant bottom lip again.

Steve lights up the first vampire creeping towards them with barely a hand gesture and Billy can feel the warmth of the flames from here. They watch the ash float on the breeze and Steve turns to Billy. Billy grinds his teeth, unbelievably turned on. Steve has so much power hidden in that long, lean frame and every time he shows his hand, it’s like catnip for Billy.

“Still think you can beat me?” Steve asks smugly and Billy does pull him in to bite down until Steve’s lip is red. A promise for later, when they tumble in out of the cold and the fighting, and make love in Steve’s empty house.

“Watch me,” he vows and raises his hand.