Steddie Hands, Steddie Heart

Chapter 5 - The Talk

Author's Note: TW for mention of child neglect and alcoholism

Steve was absentmindedly running his hands through his hair over and over again when he heard a raspy groan. His eyes darted over to where Eddie's formerly stagnant figure came alive slowly.

Eddie yawned, rubbing at his neck before hauling himself up from the floor. His hair was even messier than usual, falling in his face as he made his way to the kitchen sluggishly, passing Steve without so much as a "hello."

"Well good morning to you too, Sunshine," Steve greeted him.

Eddie looked up from where he was pouring himself a fresh mug of coffee. And god, if looks could kill, Steve would be a dead man.

"I'm not a morning person," Eddie grumbled.

The corner of Steve's mouth tilted upward a little in amusement, which he tried to hide by bringing his mug up to his lips for another sip of coffee.

"I can see that," Steve replied before setting down his mug.

Eddie sat down next to him and Steve was able to get a good look at his face. His eye bags were even more pronounced than usual and he looked definitively exhausted. Steve knew that he had definitely fallen asleep before Eddie, exhausted from his episode, and now he felt a pang of guilt run through him.

"Look about last night-" Steve started.

"Hmm?"

Eddie looked up from his coffee to look Steve in the eyes and Steve nervously looked away.

"I'm sorry if I kept you up. And, er, I'm sorry you had to see me like that. It wasn't on purpose or anything. I just have these episodes, or whatever. Normally I can let that sort of stuff out in private but-"

"Hey."

Steve looked back at Eddie, who was now looking at him with a softer gaze than before. Eddie's brows were knit with concern and Steve could see him playing with one of the thick, silver rings on his fingers from the corner of his eye.

"These things that you're calling 'episodes'? They're called panic attacks," Eddie explained calmly.

Steve's breath hitched.

"They have a name? So it's, like, a real thing?" Steve asked, hopefully.

"Yeah. It's definitely a real thing," Eddie answered.

Steve let out a shaky sigh of relief before biting his lip to keep himself from crying. Eddie had seen enough of him crying for a lifetime after witnessing him freak out the night before, in Steve's opinion.

"I thought I was going crazy," Steve uttered.

Eddie stopped playing with his ring and reached his hand out to hold the left side of Steve's jaw. Steve unconsciously leaned into the touch.

"You're not going crazy. I promise," Eddie reassured him.

Steve felt a weight lift off of his shoulders. He had been terrified to tell anyone about his panic attacks for fear that he would be sent to the Pennhurst nuthouse. But now Eddie knew, and he understood. Then a question hit Steve.

"Eddie, how do you know about these? Panic attacks, I mean. I've never even heard of them until you mentioned them. And how did you know what to do?" Steve questioned.

Eddie let out a sigh and Steve felt the metalhead's calloused hand retract from his cheek. Steve couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed at the lack of contact for some indiscernible reason.

"I used to have them a lot as a kid," Eddie explained. "You know how I live with my uncle?"

Steve nodded as Eddie averted his eyes.

"Well my parents... they weren't exactly the nicest folks. They were, uh, very conservative. Drank a lot. Yelled a lot. Used to smash things when they were drunk. And they..." Eddie trailed off for a second. "They found out... something... about me. They were never supposed to know. I used to have panic attacks just at the thought that they would somehow figure it out, so I learned how to kind of self-soothe. It was really a dumb mistake on my part that led to them finding out. But anyways, it was a scary time and I was in a really bad place mentally. I only started to get better once they kicked me out and I moved in with Uncle Wayne."

Steve looked hard at the normally uber confident man. He looked smaller than Steve had ever seen him, with his head down and his shoulders tense.

"I don't get it," Steve said. "What could a child possibly do to make their parents kick them out?"

Eddie looked up at him with a sad smile that broke Steve's heart.

"You'd be surprised," Eddie said with a bitter chuckle.

"I- I'm sorry that happened to you. I feel kind of dumb now about freaking out over a stupid light flickering. You had it so much worse than me. I never had to worry about my parents kicking me out or anything like that," Steve replied.

Eddie just shook his head.

"Steve. Trauma is not a competition. And even if it was, you've been fighting interdimensional monsters for four years and you're barely a legal adult. It's okay not to be okay."

The thought bounced around in Steve's head. It's okay not to be okay. That was...new to Steve. He was used to shoving everything deep down and praying he doesn't explode one day where everyone can witness it. As evident from the night prior, that didn't work particularly well for Steve.

"Thanks," Steve said. "For being there for me. You didn't have to. It means a lot."

Eddie gave Steve a genuine smile this time and the pair of them looked at each other for a few seconds longer than was typical, Steve studying the lines of Eddie's face.

"No problem, Harrington. If you ever need someone to be there for you, my door's always open."

Steve smiled back.

"Same here."