Saved By Steven (the first story)

16. The Weight of Silence

While Lauren rested in the guest room, tucked beneath thick blankets and sedated into stillness, the rest of the house continued to hum with quiet movement. Downstairs, the band rehearsed in the 'ballroom', sound-checking guitars and smoothing out harmonies. Mick busied himself with final preparations for the party that night. A few well-known names from the rock world were expected to drop by—some even staying the night—so Mick made sure the extra bedrooms were stocked and clean.

Between mic checks and lighting cues, Mick stepped up onto the edge of the stage where Steven was working through a few choreography cues.
"Steven?" Mick called.
Steven turned mid-step, catching his breath. "Yeah?"
"Mind taking a walk with me? I need to ask you something."

Steven nodded and grabbed a towel, waving quickly to the others before following Mick out onto the patio.
Mick kept his voice low, steady. "I wanted to ask if you'd try talking to Lauren again."
Steven rubbed the back of his neck. "I tried this morning. She barely looked at me."
"I know," Mick said, pausing. "But she's calmer now. That shot helped her rest. She's coming out of it slowly, but she still needs someone steady around. Someone she trusts. And you helped pull Joe off her. I think she remembers that."
Steven nodded slowly. "Alright. I'll try. I just... don't want to push her."
"You won't," Mick assured. "The doctor gave me some guidance. I'll call him again, just to be safe."

While Mick stepped aside to place the call, Steven returned to the band and told them what he planned to do. Everyone supported him—except Joe, who sat detached, strumming his guitar without comment.

By the time Mick returned with the go-ahead, Steven had centered himself. With a few calming breaths, he walked to Lauren's room. The door was partially open. Light filtered through the blinds, casting faint shadows across the bed. Lauren was still curled up under the covers, half-sitting, half-laying, eyes closed but her face tense. Steven sat gently on the edge of the mattress and placed a light hand on her shoulder.

Her eyes fluttered open, glassy and rimmed in red. She wasn't crying, but tears sat on the edge, waiting.
"Hey," Steven said softly. "You sleep okay?"
She nodded faintly.
"I just wanted to talk... about Joe."
Her body tensed. She immediately started to shift, reaching toward the floor for her bag.
"Wait—" Steven reached out reflexively, catching her arm, maybe too quickly.
Lauren flinched, startled. As she collapsed back on the bed, her breathing hitched, and the tears finally broke free.
"Shit—Lauren, I'm so sorry," Steven said, backing off, hands up. "Please don't be scared. I didn't mean—" He stepped closer without touching her. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just didn't want you to reach for the drugs."
"Please don't hit me," she whispered.
The words hit him. "No. God, no. I would never." His voice cracked. "Baby, I'm sorry you even think that. You've been through too much. I just wanted to stop you from slipping again."
"I need them," she said softly, fingers trembling as she reached into her bag and took out a few pills. "I can't be awake right now. I can't feel this."
"Yes, you can." Steven sat down on the bed, trying to meet her eyes. "You don't have to carry it alone. I'll be right here."
"If I let myself feel," Lauren whispered, "I'll drown. I'll die."
"You won't," he said. "You won't. I'll catch you."
She shook her head, body trembling with the effort to hold everything in.
"I know it's hard. You're exhausted and raw. But please," Steven said, his voice nearly pleading,
"don't take anything else tonight. Your body can't take much more. Neither can your mind."
She looked away, jaw clenched. "I'll break."
"No," Steven said, firmly but gently. "You'll bend. You'll scream. You'll hurt. But you won't break—not with me here."
Lauren stared at him, eyes wide. "Promise?"
Steven nodded. "Promise."

He stayed seated beside her, grounding her in his presence. For now, it was enough. Lauren leaned against the pillows, her body tense but beginning to let go. They didn't speak after that.
Just silence and a fragile sense of safety.
After a while, she dozed off again, her breathing even.

Steven carefully eased off the bed and pulled the blanket up to her shoulders. As he stepped out of the room, Mick was waiting.
"She alright?" Mick asked.
Steven nodded. "For now. She's holding on."
Mick exhaled, glancing at his watch. "Good. Keep an eye on her tonight, if you can. People are already arriving. I can handle the front of house, but she shouldn't be alone if she wakes up."
"Of course," Steven said. "I'm not leaving her side."

From down the hall, faint music and the rumble of voices echoed—guests filtering in, laughter floating between the walls. The night was starting, but the storm inside the house hadn't passed yet.