Part Twenty-Two - Steve

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[Trigger warning for homophobic slurs, guns, blood, etc]


"Fuck," Steve murmured. His feet were frozen to the floor. The whole world felt like it was collapsing. "What do- What do we do?" his voice was stuck, quiet in his throat.

"Come here, we'll be fine."
Tears burned in Steve's eyes. "What..."
Eddie moved quicker than the thoughts that moved like snails in Steve's head. He quickly, and yet, quietly, closed the bedroom door. "We are going to hide until he leaves, okay?"

Steve couldn't move. He could barely think. Fear washed over him, burning in his blood. "I-"

Eddie's hands were warm, they cupped Steve's face, forcing him to focus on the man standing not one foot away from him. "It will be okay."

"He'll find us," Steve murmured.

"No, he won't." Eddie pulled him gently to the upturned bed. "We can just hide in here. Chances are, he won't look in here. He won't find us, Steve, I promise."

Unease still rested over Steve's head, on his skin. He clutched his knees to his chest as he sat against the wall. He couldn't see the bedroom door, just the torn mattress. Even the presence of Eddie, radiating warmth into him, wasn't comforting. Anxiety bubbled up through the floor. It burned around him like the flames of hell. It spurred the dark creature that was paranoia. His vision spun.
Part of him had prepared. There were safeguards that he put in place. Yet fear overpowered everything that he thought he knew was coming. He knew in his chest, no matter what happened in this room, that his father would find them. He would have to see him again, face to face.

The man that held a gun to his head.

The man who had forced him to abandon Eddie.

Questions spun around him.

God, why the fuck did he follow Eddie to Indianapolis? It isn't like he regretted it. But the only fathomable reason he would do that is if he loved him. Did he? Or was he just scared of his father?
He glanced over at the man next to him. Eddie looked calm. Serene, even. The exact opposite of how Steve was feeling.

No, he definitely loved that man. Since they met, Eddie had changed so much. He wasn't a coward anymore. He was brave, honest. Unafraid of being himself. Unafraid of the people who wanted to hurt him.


That love, though it was immense, couldn't outweigh the deep fear that spanned along Steve's veins. It couldn't fight off the vines of paranoia that climbed over him.
Time felt slow. He couldn't move, couldn't risk making a sound, alerting his father. He barely breathed. The breath in his chest felt glued to his lungs.

Eddie stayed quiet, too. The fear was palpable. It dripped down the walls, seeped through their clothes. The whole place felt fragile. Walls made of glass.

The only sound came from down stairs, from Steve's father. He clearly didn't know they were here, which gave Steve some relief. However the sounds, the muted sounds of the television, the closing and opening of doors, it turned his blood ice cold.

His fingers anxiously tapped against his knees as he waited. Waited for the sweet sound of silence. Or the closing of the front door, the starting of a car. Any sound that indicated they could leave safely.
It felt like that sound would never come.

He counted the seconds.

Seconds turned to minutes.

Minutes melted into hours.

How long could he wait like this? How long could he sit in this destroyed remnant of his past, listening to someone who no longer loved him because of the person he sat here with? How long before the fear drowned him? How long before he snapped?

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