Billy Hargrove (
playingtough) wrote in
revivalproject2023-05-08 07:50 pm
Fortunate Son - Creedance Clearwater Revival
WHO: Billy Hargrove; Open
WHERE: Fountain
WHAT: Showing up in this city beats being dead
WHEN: May 8th
WARNINGS: S3 finale spoilers for Stranger Things?
This doesn't feel anything like Starcourt's floor. The glossy and tiled smoothness of it against his back is missing. It's rough and jagged, like Billy's laying on a gravel road. Or maybe it feels like that as blood seeps out from his sides. It stains up into his white tank top, into the waistband of his jeans. There's faint lines lining his arms and temples where he had been controlled.
Then he feels the pull. Towards a glowing orb and it hurts - fuck does it hurt like hell - to move, but he manages to touch it. And immediately goes down with a yell, brain trying to process all of that and still reeling from being back in the driver's seat of his head again.
Onto his back he goes, blue eyes at the sky again. There's a lot of blood lost from the two wounds, and Billy realizes that's probably why he feels weak. He's not supposed to feel like this, he's Billy Hargrove. King of Hawkins, pretty boy and playboy.
God he's killed so many people in the span of a month, even though it wasn't his fault.
He coughs and finds the strength to wipe away the wetness. Saliva, good, it wasn't blood. He knew coughing up blood was a bad sign at least. He heard about it from-
No, don't think about her right now.
Billy lays there, turning his head to look around. Was there anyone around? He needs to call for help. And he does, a choked out "...help," that has an edge to it because he's not going to be heard as weak as long as he can help it.
WHERE: Fountain
WHAT: Showing up in this city beats being dead
WHEN: May 8th
WARNINGS: S3 finale spoilers for Stranger Things?
This doesn't feel anything like Starcourt's floor. The glossy and tiled smoothness of it against his back is missing. It's rough and jagged, like Billy's laying on a gravel road. Or maybe it feels like that as blood seeps out from his sides. It stains up into his white tank top, into the waistband of his jeans. There's faint lines lining his arms and temples where he had been controlled.
Then he feels the pull. Towards a glowing orb and it hurts - fuck does it hurt like hell - to move, but he manages to touch it. And immediately goes down with a yell, brain trying to process all of that and still reeling from being back in the driver's seat of his head again.
Onto his back he goes, blue eyes at the sky again. There's a lot of blood lost from the two wounds, and Billy realizes that's probably why he feels weak. He's not supposed to feel like this, he's Billy Hargrove. King of Hawkins, pretty boy and playboy.
God he's killed so many people in the span of a month, even though it wasn't his fault.
He coughs and finds the strength to wipe away the wetness. Saliva, good, it wasn't blood. He knew coughing up blood was a bad sign at least. He heard about it from-
No, don't think about her right now.
Billy lays there, turning his head to look around. Was there anyone around? He needs to call for help. And he does, a choked out "...help," that has an edge to it because he's not going to be heard as weak as long as he can help it.

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She moves quickly toward the sound of the voice and once she sees a flash of red near the fountain, that tell-tale sort of red, she's running.
"Damn Agrii," she curses as she gets in sight. "Stay still."
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His tongue peeks out to lick his lips. "...Not in Hawkins? The kids... that one chick with the powers..." Billy thinks of Max in Starcourt, but the way the Mindflayer had been hellbent on getting to El or whatever her name was. She was the one the creature wanted. But he had started to hold it back then...
Now he's here. "...Fourth of July here?"
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"No. And we're not in America either," she says, reaching into her pockets to pull out one of the bespelled bandages she had found in a supply closet. Enchanted with extra healing and strength to help staunch bleeding faster.
"Need you to focus, kid. How were you hurt?"
She needs to keep him talking.
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Billy hisses at the pain from the open wounds on both sides. How was he hurt? What happened with it? His eyes roll, but not in the sarcastic way, but in the way of trying to stay awake.
"Mall," he finally hisses out, locking eyes with her for th emoment. "Starcourt. Had help breaking... out of being flayed. Mind controlled. Tried to stop the creature and ended up here before-"
The Californian stops short. The Mind Flayer was going to kill him. The multiple wounds he had, the way that last tendril had been poised, God. When he gets back to Hawkins, he's going to die.
"...'m going to die."
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"I'm not letting you die. That's not how it works. I'd be laughed out of the medical community if I lost to something as simple as this."
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The injuries are raw and shiny, looking like something with teeth chewed into him hard. Somehow he manages the strength to grab her wrist.
"Not... what I meant," he grits out with a hard gaze. The hand on hers loosening and dropping back down to the ground. "...when I go bac'." His words are getting a slur to them. There's a lot of pain he's struggling to stay awake through.
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Still, she gets his point, and she doesn't look impressed.
"I can't help you with that. But I can keep you from dying now. Which you're just going to have to live with."
He can be bitter later. She sprays the foam onto the wounds for a cursory seal and then moves to start wrapping it all up in bandages.
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No, he can be bitter now, Billy will just be quieter about it. He's losing that focus again, which snaps right back in place as he hears the sound of something... foaming? Like a mousse can. The initial touch of something against the sensitive open wound has him jerking, yelling out in pain from the action. "Fuck, what're you doing?!"
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No one ever said that Tae's bedside manner was the absolute best. Except with children. And he's too old for that.
"I'll have this wrapped in a moment and then I'll ask someone to help me get you to the hospital. Seems you'll be a guest for a bit."
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If he goes home.
Hell, maybe he'll die here.
That's the thought that gets him to soften again, the anger melting a little into... scared. A brief look at vulnerability before his face goes more neutral. "Really won't let me die...right?"
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"Of course not," she says as she wraps the wounds snuggly. "Even if it takes surgery I'm keeping you here. If for no other reason than you've gotten blood on my lab coat and you're going to use one of your replicator rations to get the soaps I need to clean it."
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Which he barely gets out as he hisses at the pain that comes with the pressure from the bandages. He turns his head to the side away from her to cough, sucking in air to do something other than think of the pain.
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"Clearly American," she grumbles under her breath. "Would you rather I let you die? Honestly, it would save supplies and probably headaches."
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Why do people keep arriving like this??
Billy rushes over once he notices the new arrival, not sure how long he's been here, but he seems to be conscious still, so that's something.
"Hey- uh-wow that's um- I'm here to help, okay? I've got you," he assures, (and where did he get that cloth he's trying to press to his side?) reaching for Billy's hands and guiding him to press firmly. "I need you to hold that for me, okay? Can you tell me your name?" He tries to distract the newcomer and keep him there with him as he presses down on the other side.
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"...Mind flayer got me," he grunts out. It doesn't answer Billy's question. Why is his hand pressing at the cloth? Whatever. It hurts a little, but it's staunching the flow of blood from his injuries at least. "Hargrove," he finally answers.
"Billy Hargrove. This place...looks like shit."
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His lip quirks a little. "Billy Kaplan," he replies and he nods, glancing around. "Preeetty much. Yeah. It's pretty run down. Sorry you got pulled into all this. You look like you were in the middle of uh...something pretty serious all ready."
"So um...Billy, I'm going to need to take you to the hospital, okay? Can uh...can you close your eyes for me, just for a second?"
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"...trying to stop the Mind Flayer but...I don't think I was going to succeed." And he knows he wouldn't. There wasn't a normal human alive that could've done it. Hargrove knows he's strong, but that was beyond his limits.
There's a scowl. "...if I close my eyes, might not open them back up." He feels tired, but he also feels stubborn as fuck and isn't about to just go to sleep so easily.
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Billy murmurs a spell under his breath, and the pair of them are enveloped in a blue light, which fades away to reveal they've been transported to the hospital.
He uses his magic to float Billy to one of the beds as gently as he can, moving to gather more supplies.
"Try and keep talking. Once I get you patched up I can help with the pain, but I need to deal with it first."
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If this Kaplan kid mentioned magic at all before Hargrove's experiences in Hawkins under the control of a creature, he would've written the guy off as another freak. Hawkins wasn't a stranger to those - they had Eddie after all.
His eyelids flutter at the bright light that shines and fades. Ah. Hospital ceiling. Even with the gentle treatment, Hargrove still groans out through his pain. "Fucking... hurts." Hurts worse than anything Neil ever did to him, and that was saying something. Hargrove took pride in knowing he could take some hits.
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He winces, returning to Billy's side "I know- I'm sorry. You're going to be okay- It'll be over soon-" he assures, getting to work. He murmurs a quick pain relief spell once he can spare some focus, eyes flicking to search his face and see if it was working.
"How's that?"
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Then pain is receding, feeling less like a ten and more like six or seven. "Hurts less... does that mean I'm dying?" His body stiffens a little at the thought. That doesn't last long ans he relaxes once more.
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"I used a spell to dampen the pain a bit. I'm gonna numb the area a bit, okay? Try and stitch this up? It's going to feel weird once, but it shouldn't hurt."
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"Just...fucking get on with it!" he finally manages to grit out. The guy was taking more time talking him through it than he was actually doing it (or so it felt. And there's a lot being felt right now).
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The blond lays there, eyes fixated on the ceiling over him. "I hite that glowing point... but -ah, shit- I don't get why I was fucking brought here."
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