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#it's midnight here which means I'm droppin a new steddie thanggg
oatmilk-vampire · 26 days
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steddie suspense for my lovelies <3 tw: panic attack, mention of death // ~700 words
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Steve feels the exact moment the blood drains from his face.
Of course his mind would find a way to ruin this, using an innocent conversation between the two of them against him to prove he will never be okay.
“Did you give ‘em hell, baby?” Eddie had asked with a crooked grin when Steve was talking about the unruly customers he had to deal with earlier.
He bites his cheek hard as the lights flicker and dim around him, as the four walls of his room shift into the cruel expanse of the Upside Down.
He wants to run. He doesn’t have the strength to fight anymore.
“No.” He breaths out, voice just as shaky as his limbs.
“No? That’s okay. Maybe next time.” Eddie shrugs, as if Steve wasn’t struggling to breath.
He has to get away.
“Steve, where are you going?”
Why is he so cold? My God, he’s freezing.
“I gotta go. I gotta go. I can’t be here.”
“Steve, wait!”
He’s using that voice again, the one from earlier that makes Steve squirm. He doesn’t know why, though. Not yet. All he knows is it’s too much. His chest physically aches at the intensity of emotion.
Steve starts breathing fast and shallow.
It’s too much. He’s too cold, and he can’t breathe, dry ice invades his lungs.
The room starts to close in on him. His heartbeat races so fast he’s scared he may die, thinks maybe he already has. His breaths turn ragged as he tries desperately not to suffocate. He doesn’t know how to make it stop. He can’t make it stop. All he can do is reach out for the man in front of him. All he can do is try to get away from him.
“Oh shit. Come on, Stevie. I’m sorry. I was teasing—I didn’t mean to—”
Whatever tone Eddie was using before is gone, instantly replaced by something closer to his normal voice, only maybe a little softer.
“Hey—hey it’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe, I’ve got you.” He wraps his arms around Steve, dragging him down, down, down until he’s sitting. Pulled so close he’s practically in Eddie's lap.
Steve feels himself melt into Eddie’s touch, throwing his arms around his waist and gripping the fabric of his shirt in his fists. He buries his face against his chest as he continued struggling to breathe. Steve is horrified to realize it’s warm and sticky, slick with something he doesn’t want to look at. Can’t stand to see.
“Shhh It’s okay. I’ve got you Steve, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you.” Eddie murmurs, cradling his head and petting his hair in soothing repetitive motions.
“Try to take some deep breaths, okay? You’re safe here. I’ve got you.”
Steve is still shaking in Eddie’s arms, and may or may not be making pitiful noises as he hyperventilates and cries, but he does try to slow his ragged breaths by matching them to the rise and fall of Eddie’s chest. Being held so tightly, and having the steady rhythms of Eddie’s heartbeat and breathing to focus on helps tremendously. It takes him a while to realize that was the whole point.
“I’ve got you, Steve. You’re doing so good. Keep taking deep breaths with me.”
Eddie’s voice is so gentle, so caring, and his exaggerated breaths are so soothing and easy to follow, Steve almost can’t remember why he’s so scared. Eddie’s here. Eddie’s here with him. Why did that feel so wrong?
It takes a few minutes, but eventually he stops shaking.
Eddie keeps comforting him, whispering soft praise against the top of Steve’s head.
“There you go. Deep breaths. You’re doing so good. Just stay with me. This will end, I promise.”
That’s when the dam breaks.
Steve lifts his head from Eddie’s chest, blinking away his tears.
“You’re not here, you’re not here. You’re not real.” Steve backs away, tries to shield himself, tries to get away.
Eddie follows after him, quick to pull him back into his arms in a tight embrace, preventing Steve from going anywhere.
“You’re okay, Stevie. You’re right here. I’m right here. It’s okay. Whatever you’re seeing isn’t real. Just me. Focus on me.”
“You?”
“Me.”
Steve shakes his head, a new sob rips through his constricting throat.
“No, Eddie. You’re dead. You died.”
Steve squeezes him tight, knows the moment he lets go reality will come back to him. The false memories and imaginary conversations his consciousness had conjured up will be revealed as exactly that: fake.
He’ll be all alone.
“You’re not real.”
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