The house is already too loud when you step inside—music thumping through the walls, bodies packed tight, the air thick with smoke and spilled beer. Billy disappears from your side almost immediately, pulled away by some idiot shouting his name, and you roll your eyes, weaving toward the kitchen to grab a drink. You don’t even make it halfway before voices spike behind you—sharp, aggressive.

“You got a problem, man?”

You know that voice. You turn just in time to see Billy squared up with some guy you’ve never seen before, chest out, jaw clenched, eyes burning like gasoline waiting for a spark. The guy shoves him first.

“Billy—”

The punch lands before you can reach him.

Everything explodes. Someone yells. The crowd surges back as Billy launches forward, fists flying, both of them crashing into the coffee table. You don’t think—you just move, pushing through bodies, dropping to your knees beside them.

“Get off him!” you shout, grabbing at the stranger’s shoulder, trying to haul him backward.

That’s when it happens.

An elbow whips back hard and fast, catching you square in the face. There’s a sharp crack and a burst of white behind your eyes. You gasp, stumbling back as warm liquid immediately floods down your lips.

“Oh my god—”

You barely hear it. Your hands fly to your face, coming away red.

“Shit—no, no, no,” Billy snarls, the sound feral. He tries to surge forward again, but strong hands grab him from behind.

“Billy! Billy, knock it off!” Steve yells, wrapping his arms around his chest while Eddie jumps in from the other side, dragging the other guy away by the collar.

“Get him out!” Eddie shouts. “Before someone calls the cops!”

Billy is still fighting, veins standing out in his neck, eyes wild—until he sees you.

Blood dripping down your chin. Your hands shaking.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, all the rage draining out of him at once. “Baby—”

Nancy is suddenly there, pushing past Steve, her face pale. “Oh my god—come here.” She grabs your wrists gently, pulling your hands away just long enough to assess the damage before pressing a rag to your nose. “Lean forward. Don’t tilt your head back.”

You obey, dizzy, knees weak as she wraps an arm around you to steady you.

“I’m okay,” you mumble, though it comes out muffled and shaky.

Billy breaks free from Steve, but instead of swinging, he drops in front of you, hands hovering helplessly like he’s afraid to touch you. His voice cracks. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I swear to god—”

“I know,” you say softly, eyes glassy as Nancy keeps pressure on your nose.

Billy’s jaw tightens again, but this time it’s not anger—it’s guilt, heavy and crushing. He presses his forehead to yours carefully, breathing you in like proof you’re still here.

“I should’ve protected you,” he mutters. “I should’ve—”

Nancy shoots him a sharp look. “You can beat yourself up later. Right now, she needs ice and probably stitches.”