STRANGER THINGS IMAGINES

You're Alright, You're Okay| Steve Harrington

Summary: The nightmares will never leave, but you'll always be there to bring down his level of concern, and tell him he's alright, that he's okay.

Based on Twenty One Pilots new song Level of Concern.

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How is a man supposed to cope when he sees people die in front of him, when he is constantly forced to put another person's safety above his own? How does the world expect him to continue living like a normal human being after witnessing so many things that no sane thinking person could think of?

Steve was a man in constant pain. It wasn't physical, he wasn't covered in bruises or littered in sharp cuts and leaked blood. Instead, he was pushed to the brink of sanity every day when the horrors that he had witnessed were suddenly upon him every time he closed his eyes. The 19-year-old boy who had helped defeat the mind flayer in the year of 1985 was not the same boy who ruled the school in 1983. This Steve was broken and had scars etched into his brain, haunting him every moment he existed.

The nights were the worst, when the sky was dark, and the shadows crept through his window and lingered in his room. The bat with the nails sunk into the wood always leaned up against his bedside table, constantly within reach when he felt like he needed to fight the demons away, even if they never real and only in his terrors.

One night he was shaking next to you, the bed covers pulled over his head and his body curled up within itself, trying to make himself smaller and smaller until he couldn't cower anymore. Skin slick with sweat and hair a huge mess, he looked like a scared child, trying to hide from the world that seemed to only want to hurt him.

But you were there, and you weren't going to let the terrors take him. Not tonight. Placing a hand on his waist, your palm to his warm skin, you tried calling his name gently.

"Steve, hey, you're okay, you're safe." You moved closer, pressing your forehead to his sweaty one, watching as his eyes behind his lids darted around, face pulling into a tense look of pain and sorry. He was groaning loudly then, trying to pull away, whimpering like whatever was in his head was going to hurt him.

"Sweetheart, you gotta wake up now, I'm right here. It's just us." Running a hand through the strands of his hair, you whispered the words to him, trying to calm the boy who couldn't stop shaking.

He lurched then, suddenly waking up from whatever dream he was having, nearly knocking you off the bed at the same time, his chest heaving and his gaze darting around the room, looking for danger even when there was none. He was still shaking as a tear rolled down his cheek as he tried to let out a sigh, choking off halfway to stop the sob that was trying to escape between his lips.

"Steve, you're alright. It was only a dream, that's all baby. You're safe, in your room, in your bed. It was just a dream, I promise." He heard you then, gaze flicking over to look at you as you kneeled on the bed next to him, eyes wide and a look of concern cast over your features.

"It never feels like a dream.... I thought... I thought it was back and I couldn't save anyone." He sucked in a breath as he looked down and shut his eyes tight, digging his fingernails into the skin of his thighs, creating crescent-shaped marks next to old scars.

"I know, Steve. But look at me, I'm right here. There's no mind flayer in this room, no one is hurt, and no one needs saving. You don't have to be a hero tonight Steve. It's just me and you, in your room."

"So, I'm alright, everything is okay?" He was pulling you closer then, a hesitant hand reaching out to tug you against him so he could duck his head into your neck, arms wrapping around your waist as he let out a harsh breath.

"You're alright, I promise." You pressed a hand to his chest, feeling it lift up and down as his breathing calmed, letting your lips linger over the skin near his ear as his body seemed to melt against yours and the sheets.

"And you're safe?"

"Yes Steve, I'm safe. You don't have to be concerned about me, not tonight." You shifted so the two of you were lying down, limbs wrapped up in each other and tired eyes staring back, looking for any sort of worry or sadness that the other might be trying to hide. Steve gripped your hand in his tightly, squeezing it every few seconds to remember that you were there, that you were real and that both of you were safe.

He was calmer, still not totally at ease, but his breathing was once again falling into a steady rhythm as he let you press kisses against his shoulder, lips and forehead. He wanted to say that he was always going to be concerned about you, would always worry about your safety and if he was doing everything he could to take care of you and protect you from the evil of the world, but he instead let out a sigh, knowing that you would only tell him to stop worrying.

"Would...would you hold me, just for tonight? I just don't know how to feel safe anymore..." He blurted out the words in a rush, but as soon as he had asked you to hold him, you couldn't help but smile warmly at the man, nodding your head.

"Of course, I'll hold you, Steve, I'll hold you every night if you want me too. I'm not ever going to let go." You pressed a soft kiss to his lips as he let out a breath of relief, before moving so his head rested on your chest and his arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, legs intertwined with yours. Your hand ran through his hair, brushing the loose strands away from his eyes and still letting him clutch your hand in his, and at that moment, he knew, that for now, everything was okay.

Neither of you were totally out of the woods. Those dreams would still come every night to haunt him and make his bones rattle, but both of you knew that you would be there, for each and every moment that he needed you. And for now, all he wanted was for you to hold him, and for the world to just give the two of you peace for the night. That was all he wanted.

And that is what the young hero, Steve Harrington, deserved, and that is what he got.

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Okay, I'm bone dead tired after writing this. Time for bed.

Let me know what you think of the piece. Thanks.

Will!