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She sometimes felt like she and Max were the only ones who remembered him - or at least remembered him in a good way.
Of course she continued to mourn Hopper, everyone in town did - but as much as she loved and missed Hop with every part of her being (her heart ached like there was a gaping wound that wouldn’t heal) she couldn’t help but feel indignant and upset that no one else remembered Billy and his sacrifice. His death was overlooked in the media (which had some pros to it, she’ll admit) but it frustrated El that no one knew of his heroics in the last battle, how he had saved them all - had saved her.
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She had dreams about that last moment before he stood and faced the Mindflayer - protecting her with his body and strength. She dreamt of how she’d caressed his face, how his entire body had shuddered at her touch and melted into her hand and she had known this was the first kind contact he’d had since he was young. The thought hurt her as much as it warmed her to know she had done that for him, that she had given him that comfort - especially in his last moments.
Sometimes her dreams altered the reality of what happened and she had been able to do more. Sometimes she laid both hands on his cheek, sometimes still just one but she grasped his hand with her free one, sometimes she kissed his hand, sometimes she kissed his cheek, sometimes his forehead, and sometimes she just gripped him in a hug and refused to let him go, even as the Mindflayer roared in the distance and its booming footsteps echoed closer.
Sometimes....sometimes she even saved him. Sometimes her powers worked and she was able to fend off the Mindflayer; sometimes the gate closed before the Mindflayer could even come closer. Sometimes she’d have Hopper and Billy by her side at the end of the night.
Those were always the nights she woke up crying. The what-if’s of that night broke her heart to think about.
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She’s proud of both men - proud she knew them both. Hopper deserves the love and recognition and support the town gave him after his death, there’s no denying it. But...no one ever talks about Billy.
While in the hospital recovering, El had decided that if no one else would remember him, then she would for all of them. But she had nothing but her memories and her dreams.
She wished she had a photo of him. And that’s when she remembered.
The pool…Where they’d gotten Heather’s photo. El remembered Billy’s had been next to it on the wall.
She’d asked Max if she knew if the photo was still there and Max had no idea. The redhead hadn’t been able to bring herself to go there, not since the sauna test, not with the memories it still contained. El had understood but hesitated when asking if she’d be ok with her taking that photo if it was still there.
Max had seemed shocked but had smiled and said “Of course.'' Knowing that someone else, especially her best friend, cared for her brother and mourned him just as she did seemed to make Max feel better.
And so, once she was released from the hospital, El, after telling Joyce she’d be with Will, Max, and the boys at the arcade, had instead gone to the Hawkin’s Community Pool - praying that they hadn’t taken the photo down yet.
She held her breath as she walked through the entrance, taking familiar steps to the wall that showcased in bright construction paper the lifeguards that worked there. Her eyes first caught where Heather’s empty spot was, above where the girl’s name was still written in marker. El’s mouth twisted in grief and she inhaled before letting her eyes move further over, her body tense...
And exhaled sharply.
There he was.
What struck her first was that he wasn’t glaring in the photo (if he was, it was only because of the sun in his face), nor was he scowling. His face and mouth looked relaxed as he allowed them to take his photo while he leaned back against the lifeguard tower. She wondered if he had just been happy to be out of the house finally and, because of that, had allowed himself to relax a little on the job.
Her fingers reached up to touch his face, the shiny paper no substitute for the actual skin of his cheek but it still made her feel better all the same, even as tears fell down her cheeks.
She sniffled before she wiped her nose. Taking a look to her left and right, she quickly reached up and snagged the photo, just like she had done with Heather’s what felt like a lifetime ago, before striding out of the pool building.
No one stopped her and no one said anything.
As she stood on the sidewalk outside, she held the photo up one more time, smiling down at the boy who had saved her, before carefully putting the photo in her pocket, thankful the jeans she wore had large enough ones that she didn’t have to fold it.
She needed that photo to last. It was all she had left of him at this point and she never wanted to forget. He deserved better than that and it was the least she could do.
She patted her pocket, wiped her eyes one more time, and started walking in the direction of the arcade.
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