The Nights That Never Die
Part 1 of Hey, Brother
Billy hated arguments. The shouting, the crying, and the objects flung across the room…none of it was new to him. He should’ve been used to the same song and dance by now. After all, it was all he knew.
It was new to Max, though.
Billy often forgot that while this was his normal, it wasn’t hers. So he bites his tongue till it bleeds, and pats the Camaro’s passenger seat as a silent invitation. Words weren’t his strong suit if it wasn’t in the script. Comforting people sure as hell wasn’t something he was good at.
Max wordlessly sits down, staring at her Converses.
God, quiet unnerved him even more than yelling.
A loud crash is heard from inside the house, and he sees a look in Max’s eyes all too familiar. Instead of grabbing her wrist, he awkwardly taps her on the shoulder.
“What?” she demands, red hair whipping him in the face.
“It’s better if you stay in here ‘till things cool down.” I know you might not understand right now, but you’re safer here.
“How do you know?’
He lets out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Kids and their shitload of questions. Persistent brats. An admirable quality, sure, but it didn’t get you very far with that walrus bastard. Max hadn’t sold out herself to him. She still had a shot. She wasn’t damaged. She wasn’t a Hargrove. Saved by blood, whereas he was damned by it.
Billy sticks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, an oral exercise that usually prolongs the eventual sobfest. “I just know, alright?” Long as I’m here, you’ll never know. I’ll make sure of it.
Another crash, followed by Neil’s deceivably calm tone and the contrast of Susan’s screams sends Max burrowing into Billy’s jacket, the denim muffling her weeping.
He’s not sure what possesses him, maybe the spirit of his mother, but he cups his hands over her ears, and she doesn’t push him away.
“I come home, in the mornin’ light. My mother says, “When you gonna live your life right?” Oh momma dear, you know we’re not the fortunate ones. And girls, they wanna have fun…”
He gets through four Cyndi Lauper songs when the house on Cherry Lane finally shuts the fuck up, and Max snickers, getting snot all over his jacket.
“What’s so funny, Shitbird?”
“You’re a horrible singer.”
He sends her a mock-glare, ruffing her hair. She playfully swats at his hand, giggling.
Almost like… a real brother and sister.
“I didn’t hear you complaining,” he retorts.
“I’m pretty sure there’s ringing in my ears,” she says, collapsing into another fit of giggles.
“Everyone’s a critic. Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
She makes a face. “I thought you were cool.”
“Get in the house, will ya?” he huffs, the corners of his mouth twitching. She thinks I’m cool.
She reaches the front door and looks back, all traces of ease gone. "Are you… coming too?"
Suddenly he's ten years old again and he's watching her car grow smaller.
He could leave, too.
Max still hasn't opened the door. Her posture is stiff and hunched over.
No.
No. I can't.
He's not sure who he is anymore, but he's not his mother. He's not a runner.
He takes a deep breath, and turns his back on temptation.
"Right behind you, Mad Max."
******
"Oh, William... why didn't you run?"
+++++++++
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After the scene where Billy tells Max to stay away from Lucas, they drive home and it’s quiet as they pull up to their residence, their “home”, they share a long quiet moment in the Camaro before Max has enough of it and storms out the car, slamming the door shut and walking to the entrance, leaving Billy alone. Billy flinches when Max slams the door and sighs angrily before getting out of the Camaro and eventually going inside as well. By that time Susan was home, she looked at Billy and asked him “why is Max upset?”… he ignores her, didn’t even acknowledge her existence as he walked up to his bedroom. He quite literally slams his bedroom door closed and sits on his bed. He looks at his floor blankly for what felt like forever until he put his hands forward toward his view of sight. He stared at his hands for a bit, the thoughts were getting loud… “you are just like your father” “you put your hands on her, how dare you!” “you promised to never put your hands on anyone…on her” “your mama would be so disappointed in you” “you are the worst”…etc. His breath is shaky as he stares at his hands “I’m just like him… how far will I go?…” he says to himself in a terrified whisper. This is the day he learns his biggest fear of all…himself.
*im sorry for the angst but I couldn’t stop thinking about what could have happened after that scene so I just wrote it down😔*
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nothing about this is good or healthy for Ignis!! he spent 10 years expecting to die when Noctis did because he didn't know what else to do.
i've also seen it pointed out that these lines:
could easily be Noctis really making sure Ignis is planning to survive the night and not kill himself.
again, neither Ignis nor Noctis are to blame for this. this is the result of Ignis being trained from a young age to care only about serving a purpose to another person. and by the end, Noctis had the clarity to be one step ahead of his advisor and literally stop him from ending his own life for his mission.
i want a world where none of this had to happen! where Ignis didn't spend 10 years in solitude, refusing help and essentially planning his own suicide! he deserved a fucking chance! and some goddamn therapy!
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Despite what everyone else may or may not think, to me, Eddie and Billy would have been at least close. I can imagine Eddie being Billy's dealer, getting closer one afternoon after Billy heard Eddie humming a Metallica song under his breath while he's getting his stuff ready, and Billy would go wild like
"Man, I love that fucking song"
and then Eddie would be smiling wild and big, answering something like "yeah? mine too man! It's fucking amazing. Have u heard (insert another song name)?"
And then, without realizing it, they would have lost hours smoking w33d while talking about music.
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