Saved By Steven (the first story)

8. Another guest arrives

Steven stood up and walked over to Mick and Tom, who where huddled near the kitchen counter, talking about Friday's show setup.
"I'll be back in a bit." Tom said. "Gonna go find some clean clothes."
"Good call." Mick nodded, already halfway to the front door as the bell rang. He opened it with a grin.
"Joe! You made it!"
"Yeah, man." Joe grumbled, stepping inside, shaking off snow. "This weather's a bitch."
"Well, I just made some coffee. Come warm up."
"I'd love some." Joe said, stomping snow from his boots. 

Back in the living room, Steven hadn't moved. He was still sitting in his chair near the kitchen, his gaze fixed gently but intently on Lauren who remained curled up behind the couch. Joe followed Mick in and saw the familiar stair.
"Hey, man." Joe said to Steven, raising an eyebrow.
Steven blinked, snapped back to reality. "Hey."
Joe followed his line of sight and exhaled, muttering, "Oh no. Not again."
Steven looked at him. "What?"
"Come on, Steven. Don't start another damsel in distress thing."
Steven smiled faintly. "It's not like that."
Joe gave a look. "It's always not like that, until it is."
Steven didn't respond. He just looked back toward the couch.
"She's not doing well." he said softly. 
Joe rolled his eyes. 
"Yeah, no shit. Just don't get pulled into someone else's storm, man."
Steven's voice was calm.
"Sometimes people don't need saving, they just need someone who doesn't run away."
"Sure," Joe muttered. I'll grab my notebook. We're doing this again." He added sarcastically. 

Mick returned with more coffee and they all sat together, talking about the upcoming show, holiday plans and family obligations. The mood stayed light, but Steven's attention kept drifting.

From across the room, Lauren slowly stirred. Her thoughts were fogged but insistent. Get up. You need space. You need silence. She sat up, pulled Mick's over sized sweater tighter around her, and slipped her arms into the sleeves. With hesitant steps, she made her way toward the voices.

As she approached, the conversation tapered off. Eyes turned toward her, some curious, some concerned. Steven didn't stare this time. He simply shifted over on the couch, making space. Lauren picked up a pillow from a nearby chair and carefully sat down beside him, her movements quiet, deliberate. She didn't speak. She just leaned gently against Steven's side. His arm moved around her almost naturally, like it had happened before. 

Lauren's breath slowed. The rhythm of his heartbeat beneath his shirt was steady, like a drum she could follow. She didn't understand why this stranger felt safe and familiar. She didn't want to think about it. Steven kept his voice even and casual as he joined back in the conversation with Joe and Mick, not drawing attention to her. 

Then the doorbell rang again. Mick went to answer it, and a few minutes later, he returned with three men wrapped in coats and scarves, snow still clinging to their hats and eyebrows. 
"Holy hell." Joe said.
"You guys look like snowmen, "Mick said. "Come in and warm up!"

One of them, Brad, shook his head an chuckled. "We almost died in that driveway."
As they stepped further inside, Brad paused mid-step, nodding toward Lauren.
"What's going on there?"
"That", Joe said dryly, "is the result of a bad night."
"More like a bad month." Mick muttered.

Tom H walked into the room, brushing snow from his jacket. "A bad month?" he said. "Seriously?"
Mick looked at him and the others. "Not my story to tell."

Lauren stiffened slightly against Steven. I don't want them to know. No one can know. Her throat tightened. A wave of something unfamiliar crept up her neck. Her chest grew tight, breath catching short in her lungs. She blinked fast, trying to focus on the rhythm of the room, but it felt distant. Her fingers curled hard into the pillow she was holding, knuckles paling. Her jaw clenched. She couldn't speak—not yet. Just keep still. Don't let it show.

Steven glanced down, catching the tremor in her hand. He shifted slightly and lowered his voice, careful not to draw attention.
"Hey," he said softly, just for her. "You okay? You don't have to talk. Just breathe."
Lauren didn't answer, but her eyes flicked to his—wide, glassy, and unsteady.
Steven gently placed his hand over hers, grounding it.
"You're safe," he said, steady and low. "You're here. You're okay."
She gave the faintest nod, pressing her lips together. The pressure behind her ribs eased, just a little. She didn't know why his voice helped—but it did.

She stood up without a word and began walking toward the stairs.
"Honey, where are you going?" Mick asked gently.
"Shower," she murmured, not looking back.
Mick nodded. "Let me know if you need anything."
As Lauren climbed the stairs, she met Tom coming down."I'm heading out," he said, his voice quieter than usual. "Lucy's got the kids today. She needs backup."Lauren met his eyes and nodded. She didn't trust her voice.Tom lingered. "You gonna be okay here?"Another nod. She clutched Mick's shirt tighter around her."You know you can reach me anytime, right?" Tom added. "Don't let the shock eat you alive. You haven't done anything wrong. Remember that."Lauren gave a small nod, then surprised him by hugging him tightly. He hugged her back before heading out into the snow.