A/N: This is more or less a continuation of "Changing Winds" and "Par for the Course." Those two fics don't need to be read to understand this, but they help to show the progression of El and Billy's relationship. I initially wasn't going to write anymore, but then I got a review on "Par for the Course" that said if El was ever in trouble, Billy would come running right back to help her. And I was like OHNONONONO (yesyesyes) PLOT BUNNY. So here we are! I don't really know what I'm doing, but that's essentially what happens in all of my fanfiction, haha. Also, yes. The title is a Daughter lyric (because Daughter is the best). Hope you all enjoy!

CH 1: Drifted

"Yo, Hargrove! There's some hot lil' number askin' for you on the phone."

Lifting his head, Billy wiped his oily hands onto his jeans and stepped away from the car he'd been fixing. "A girl?" Moving over to his friend and employer, Clay Ross, he frowned and shook his head. "Did she give her name?"

"No, but she says she needs you." Clay punctuated this with a suggestive roll of the hips. "She seemed a lil' desperate, if ya know what I mean. Whose heart didja break this time?"

"You're an asshole."

Laughing, Clay moved over toward a neighboring car. "An asshole I may be, but I'm not the one keeping that girl waiting."

Flipping the bird, Billy headed back toward the phone on the wall and lifted it off its cradle. "Y'lo?"

"Billy…"

All at once, the blood drained from his face and he faltered, his palms growing damp as he gripped at the phone. "El…?"

There came the sound of her soft, hitching breaths as she sniveled. "It's coming."

"W-what?" Glancing over his shoulder, he caught sight of Craig yet again thrusting his hips, so he promptly turned back toward the wall. "What do you need me to do?"

"Can you maybe…come get me?" Her voice was small and childlike, much like she'd sounded all those years ago. "Please, Billy… I don't want to be alone."

Closing his eyes, Billy clenched his jaw and shook his head. A part of him wanted to tell her no – to fucking call someone else – but he knew that he could never abandon her. Not when he owed her his life.

"Where are you?"

"My apartment. I, um…my roommate isn't home."

"Alright, well just stay put, okay? I'll get a flight out to Indiana as soon as I can." Grabbing a nearby pen and notepad, he leaned against the wall and tried to steady his hands. "Can you gimme your address?"

Eleven's breath stuttered again, but she was quick to give him the information he needed.

"Alright, got it," he said. "And are you sure nobody else can come for you in the meantime? Maybe you can call the stick bug?"

She scoffed, a certain edginess to her voice. "I don't really talk to Mike anymore, Billy. That was ten years ago."

Ah. Right. The perfect reminder of just how long he'd managed to distance himself from Hawkins. Or more specifically, from the ties that had turned him into a monster in the first place.

"Billy?"

"Yeah, I'm still here."

Her breathing steadied somewhat, but then she whispered, "Hurry."

The finality of her tone made his heart drop.

Billy hated travel. Anytime he'd undergone a trip, it had always signified a change – sometimes good, but mostly bad, and as he stood in front of Eleven's apartment, he suddenly realized how goddamn surreal his life was. He'd purposely shut her out. After their friendship, he'd intentionally ignored her, because relationships were messy, and he'd just wanted a nice, clean break. But this? This was messy as all hell, and he knew that whoever was waiting for him was not the same bright-eyed, knobby-kneed teen he'd known back in 1985.

The door lurched open then and Billy staggered back, stunned. "Jesus…"

"Billy." Eleven whimpered with relief, then immediately hurled her weight against him as if tackling a linebacker. He grunted at the unexpected weight, but compensated by wrapping his arms around her waist. She responded by clinging to him more tightly.

For a long while, Billy said nothing. His heart pounded in his ears, and he felt disquieted by the fond, persistent nudge of Eleven's cheek into his.

"You came," she whispered, almost as if she didn't believe it. "You're really here."

"Of course I am," he said. "You didn't actually think…?" Trailing off, he rolled his eyes skyward, knowing full-well what she had to have thought. "I almost didn't come," he admitted. "It's not…I-I don't feel right when I'm here."

Gradually loosening her hold on him, Eleven lowered back down to her height and searched him with her large, probing eyes. She was older now – tall and pretty and mature – but one thing hadn't changed, and that was the soft, overly kind look she'd always reserved for him and him alone. It made him feel low and unworthy.

"Do you want to come in?"

Indicating his overnight bag, Billy shrugged. "I guess I'd better. I don't have any hotel reservations."

Beaming, Eleven stepped back to allow him entry, the bounce to her step reminiscent of older times.

Crossing the threshold, Billy took in the sight of pictures – mostly of Joyce and Will and Hopper, but there were a few others he didn't recognize. The shag carpet felt questionably sticky beneath his feet, but otherwise, the apartment was rather cozy, and clearly shared by two girls just scraping by.

"Who's your roommate?" he asked, attempting conversation. "Why didn't you ask Max?"

Brows drawing inward, Eleven folded her arms and shook her head. "Did you not get the invitation? Max and Lucas got married five years ago. I always thought you knew…"

Awkwardly, Billy hunched his shoulders and turned away, pretending to be interested in a picture of Eleven with a beach ball. "I, uh…I never told Maxie where I moved. I thought it'd be easier that way…far less baggage. She deserved a clean break, too."

Eleven's eyes narrowed. "And did you ask her that, or did you come to that conclusion on your own? She was devastated when you didn't show up."

Billy huffed. "I never got the invite. I must've moved to Los Angeles by then. I, uh…have a bad habit of being nomadic these days. I'm not really fond of laying down roots."

"So I've noticed."

Frowning, Billy turned to regard her. "You understood my intentions as a kid, so why are you riding my ass about it now?"

Shrugging, Eleven looked down at the floor. "I dunno, I just…I missed you, I guess."

"And the mindflayer? You said it was back?"

Appearing sheepish, she gave a helpless little shrug. "I don't know…maybe, I just…I have a feeling."

"A feeling?" Finally, Billy was angry. "You mean to tell me I came out all this way for a fucking feeling?"

"You know how it is!" she spat. "You…y-you've been marked by it too, so you know that drowning, suffocating loneliness, and I couldn't take it anymore, okay? My roommate helped a lot, but she went off on a trip with her boyfriend, and I just can't…I can't do it anymore, Billy! I needed you here. And if that's an inconvenience to you, then I'm sorry."

The harsh lines in Billy's forehead softened and he turned away, grumbling to himself as he re-adjusted the overnight bag on his shoulder. "So where am I sleeping?"

All at once, Eleven's stance mellowed in relief, and her eyes brightened as she folded her hands. "Trisha won't be back for a couple weeks, so you can either take her bed or the couch."

Shrugging, Billy promptly dumped his bag by the old, faded couch, then sank down onto the springy cushions with an approving sigh. "This'll do," he assured her. "All I need is a pillow and a flask." Catching her disapproving look, he chuckled. "I'm only half-joking."

Suddenly quiet again, Eleven began twisting her hands, just like she had whenever he'd awoken in the hospital. She appeared almost shy as she moved over and had a seat across from him. "Can I ask you something?"

He shrugged, propping his feet onto the coffee table.

Looking away, Eleven sighed. "Are you happy in California? Like…do you have friends and people who love you?"

Billy's eyes clouded, as they often did whenever faced with sentimentality. "I'm happy enough," he grumbled.

"But…are you happy?"

"Why does it matter?"

"I don't know…I guess it shouldn't, but it does. I want to know that all of this was worth it."

"That all what was worth it?"

"Us…our separation." Bottom lip trembling, she tensed her hands in her lap. "It hurt when you never wrote to me, Billy. But as your friend, I knew better than to look for you. I never…I-I never used my powers to find you again. 'Cause ultimately, I wanted you to come back when you were ready." She hesitated. "Are you ready now?"

Billy's face remained a blank slate. He would never, ever come back to Hawkins of his own accord, and she had to know that – she had to know that he'd done all of this for her.

"Billy?"

"I'm tired," he muttered. "Do me a solid and go to your room or something, maybe? I need a nap."

Expression growing pinched, Eleven nodded and swiftly rose from her seat. "I'll probably make dinner in an hour," she muttered. Hesitating, she offered a gruff, "Also, I like your hair," before irritably storming off to her bedroom. The door closed not long after.

A/N: If you wish to read my historical/supernatural romance novel, you can find it on my Tumblr, musicboxmemories!