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The dangers in my mind

Summary:

"Steve?" Nancy grabs him by the shoulders, the same way he did not too long ago. Not now. Not here. Please, it's too soon. We just got out of the last one. "Steve!"

His eyes find her, glassy but present. 

Silence has fallen across the bedroom all of the sudden. She can feel everyone's eyes burning into her and Steve, who is gapping like he can't find the air to speak. 

The next one strikes close, light and sound mixed almost as one, making her window tremble. He shakes too, inside her grasp, and suddenly Steve —who barely breaks a sweat while running across forests and dark deserted lands— is hyperventilating. 

"I-" he tries. "I don't- I can't-"

Breathe. He can't breathe. 

or

Steve has a panic attack. And everyone else panics over it.

Work Text:

Springbreak has gone by and, with it, the latest chapter of horrors and violence in their lives. Time tickles back, week after week, as normalcy sets back in. By the time summer is practically at their doorstep, Nancy can finally breathe again. Not that she isn't still stressed and inwardly sure that the danger will return —at this point, how could she not?— but warm nights like this, when their biggest threat is a summer storm and the solution is to have everyone hang out at her place, she lets herself enjoy the time they have. The kids should technically be downstairs already, doing their big D&D campaign thing with Eddie, but they are here because Eddie is up here, and Eddie is up here because Robin and Steve are hanging out at Nancy's bedroom, eating chips and joking around. 

"Eddie, c'mon, man," Mike whines again, "we are wasting time!"

Even as he complains to Eddie, she can feel her brother's eyes locked on her, furious. They've had this argument countless times already and she's not going to repeat herself. She did not steal their friend. If Eddie likes to hang out with people his own age from time to time, that's perfectly normal. And, really, Mike could use a lesson or two about his possessiveness with the people he cares about. 

Meanwhile, Dustin has resorted to a more frontal approach and is trying to physically drag Eddie out of Nancy's bedroom, which is completely useless and entirely too funny. She doesn't remember the last time she laughed this much, this freely, this sincerely. It feels right, to have them all here with her, to argue, to poke fun at each other as the rain pours outside and knocks gently on her windows. 

"Alright, alright, alright," Steve stands up, hands on his hips, commanding the kids' attention. "We'll all go downstairs, and so you can do your thing and we still get to hang out."

A chorus of complaints and whining raises immediately at his suggestion. Nancy chuckles even harder because Steve truly has no idea how D&D works and how into their little world the boys like to get. They will accept no intrusions from him. 

"But why not?" He's complaining loudly to Dustin, each shouting over the other with no true venom behind their words, so sibling-like that she often forgets they aren't related. 

A flash of light crosses the room. Lightning. 

Everyone else is still in the middle of their own little personal chaos, nothing changes. Or almost nothing. Steve's face changes, for a fraction of a second, his hand still raised in the air mid-argument. Nancy is watching him, so Nancy notices. She sees him stumble, like his brain suddenly messed up changing gears. One second has passed. Everyone keeps shouting. A cold kind of dread washes over her as she stands up from the bed. Two seconds. 

Thunder. Dustin's voice drowned by the booming of it. 

She's already walking forward. 

"-other day! Literally any other day, Steve! But we've been planning this campaign for months, you don't get to-"

"Dustin," Nancy all but pushes the boy to a side to get to Steve. 

Steve whose eyes are wide and terrified, staring far into the distance. Whatever he's looking at, it must terrify him. He is paper pale, breathing rapidly. 

"Steve?" She grabs him by the shoulders, the same way he did not too long ago. Not now. Not here. Please, it's too soon. We just got out of the last one. "Steve!"

His eyes find her, glassy but present. 

Silence has fallen across the bedroom all of the sudden. She can feel everyone's eyes burning into her and Steve, who is gapping like he can't find the air to speak. 

The next one strikes close, light and sound mixed almost as one, making her window tremble. He shakes too, inside her grasp, and suddenly Steve —who barely breaks a sweat while running across forests and dark deserted lands— is hyperventilating. 

"I-" he tries. "I don't- I can't-"

Breathe. He can't breathe. 

Steve stumbles backward, out of her hands, until his back hits the nearest wall and he falls to the floor, knees tucked in, hands grasping at his hair. All Nancy can do is follow him, calling his name, until she's down on her knees by his side. 

She's not the only one. 

A chorus of loud and frantic voices suddenly envelops them. 

"What is it?! What is it?!" Dustin is there on his knees already, nervous hands clenching Steve's clothes like he's afraid he will disappear at any second. 

"What the hell! What's wrong!" Lucas is close behind, eyes darting between Max and the fallen boy. 

"Nancy! What is it! What's wrong with him! Is it Vecna? It it Vecna!" Mike shouts the loudest over her shoulder, voice high-pitched, betraying his panic. "El! El! Come up here!"

"It it the bites?!" Dustin is already pulling up Steve's shirt, checking on his stomach. 

Nancy can't blame him. She, too, has been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Neither of them has ever met anyone who was bit by an Upside Down creature and lived to tell the tale. And, after Will's horrifying possession, she knows they have all been watching Steve a little too closely, waiting for the second everything went to hell. She just thought they would have more time. Steve struggles, still breathing raggedly, trying to get away from Dustin's rushed touch as the boy checks on the bites. Except the wounds look... okay. Even better than she expected. He is healing. At least, as far as they can see. There are no dark veins, or gross oozing liquids, or whatever it is she was hoping to find as proof for all her fears. And yet, Steve still looks like he is in such terrible pain that her chest is about to crack open with worry. 

"What is it?" Dustin insists, grabbing Steve's face to look at his eyes, at his neck, looking for some sort of tell that will confirm their fears. 

And Steve looks... he does not look well. He is even paler than before, eyes wide, fluttering around their faces, trying to get away. He looks like a trapped animal, so terrified and small, and Nancy wants to protect him, fix this, but she can't. She doesn't know what to do. All she can do, is snatch Dustin's wrist before he keeps manhandling him and making it worse.

Two more people enter the already crowded room. Eleven freezes on the doorstep when all eyes turn to her. Fear crosses her face, just for a second, before she's overtaken by a steady determination. 

"What is wrong?" She asks, stepping in, followed closely by Will. 

"We don't know," Dustin's voice cracks. "Is it Vecna? You got rid of him, right? Could he be back? What's wrong with him?!"

Mike is back on his feet, looking at Eleven intensely, worry transparent now on his face. 

El's brown eyes focus on Steve, who, Nancy notices suddenly, is not looking at any of them. He has burrowed his head between his knees, shoulders still shaking like he is freezing despite the summer heat. When Nancy returns her attention to Eleven, she's sharing a look with the only other boy who could have an answer. Will shakes his head just slightly. El nods. 

"Not Vecna."

"Then what?!" 

Eleven shakes her head, brow furrowed, like Steve is a sudden puzzle she can't solve. 

Shouting resumes, but something inside Nancy's brain is working overtime. Not Vecna. Not the Upside Down, maybe? Her mind grabs every piece of evidence so far and stares at them from a new perspective. Not Vecna. And if it's not supernatural... then, suddenly, the symptoms make sense.

Her attention returns to the boy in front of her, shrunk down, trembling, gasping for air. Steve Harrington is having a panic attack on her bedroom floor... and they are all just making it worse.

"Eddie, get them out," she says, careful not to add to the shouting voices. 

"What?" 

She turns over her shoulder and gives her friend what she hopes is a steady and confident glance, mentally begging him to trust her. 

"The kids, get them out of the room. Now."

And Eddie Munson, bless the day he stumbled into their lives with his feral smile and emotional intelligence, does as she asks. It's not an easy feat, Robin ends up having to help him push armfuls of raging teenagers out of the room. If they manage it at all (she thinks, somewhere in the back of her brain) must be because finally having something they can do to help has givem them some resolute strength beyond their bodies. Adrenaline. Fear. Worry. Panic. 

"Steve," her voice is softer now, as gentle as she can make it. 

Eddie shouts something else before he slams the door shut. It's only the four of them in here now. The boys keep yelling outside, but the rain drowns out their voices. 

"Steve," she repeats, carefully touching his shoulder. He flinches. He has faced monsters and demons and horrors she can't even put a name to, but he flinches when her hand brushes him. "Look at me, please, Steve."

Slowly, his head emerges from between his knees. Pale, wide eyes, brown pupils dilatated with terror. 

"I- I don't know what's- I can't breathe- I can't- I can't-"

Worry twists her insides, but she doesn't let it take over. She can't. 

"You are okay. Steve, you are having a panic attack."

She can feel Robin and Eddie sigh with relief behind her and the sound alone seems to reassure her on her assessment. Except Steve is looking at her, lost, confused. His voice is so tiny when he asks:

"A what?"

"It's completely normal," Robin says, nerves clear in her voice even as she tries to calm him down.

"Normal?!" Steve's voice cracks in a way she hasn't heard since they were dating. It makes him seem so young. "I don't- I feel- I think I'm- I think I'm dying-"

"You are not, you are not," Nancy brings a hand up to his cheek and he doesn't flinch away this time. His eyes find hers, pleading. "I know it feels like it, but I promise you are okay."

"I don't feel okay," he gasps quickly, like he's drowning right before their eyes. 

"That's alright," she tries a reassuring smile, but the sheer emotion on his face is like a tidal wave. Nancy has never been good with emotion. She does facts, she does clues, she does truth. This? God, she can't do this. So she clings to what she knows. "It's a perfectly normal post traumatic reaction. Maybe- maybe there are some triggering factors right now that we don't know and they just made your temporal lobe make connections to- to something-"

"The thunder," Eddie offers. He sounds far behind them, probably guarding the door. 

Right. Thunder. The Upside Down. Fuck, Steve.

"I don't understand," he shakes his head. "We are not there. We are not there. Why do I feel- fuck. Nance I can't breathe."

"Hey, hey, hey," Robin appears by Nancy's side before she can come up with an answer. "Hey, dofus, I can explain. Look at me," she says and Steve peels his eyes away from Nancy. "See, your brain, is like a big balloon, okay? Yes, okay. And so, okay, so you start putting all your worry and your stress and almost-getting-eaten-by-monsters stuff inside of it because, hey, no time to worry about how you are feeling and how afraid you are because if you even stop to think about it you are dead. Right? So, yeah, you shove it in the balloon, but it's so much and you don't want the balloon —and I mean your brain— to pop. That would be bad! So sometimes, after the stress, it finds other ways to let it all out. Like- like panicking now, in the middle of the storm. So you are feeling all that stress now, but it's old stress, okay? You are here and you are fine."

That is far from a scientifically correct explanation of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Whatsmore, Nancy is not sure that Robin's incessant breathless rambling is the right way to calm a panicking person down. 

And yet, Steve is nodding along, like he can perfectly follow every word pouring out of the girl's mouth. His eyes are set on hers with desperation and he seems reassured, even if he is still breathing rapidly and she looks close to tears. They are holding each other's hands with a tightness that almost makes Nancy uncomfortable, like she is intruding. 

"So everything is okay, right, Steve?" Robin finishes, trying for a smile. "I just need you to breathe, now, because I'm pretty sure your brain needs oxygen to work."

"Trying- I'm trying-"

"Breathing exercises!" Eddie shouts from behind. 

Robin ventures a quick look at him. Nancy doesn't, so she sees realization hit her. 

"Like in band! Yes!" Robin's attention returns to Steve. "Okay, Steve, hey, Steve, stay with me. I need you to follow my breathing, okay?"

He nods erratically. 

"Alright, good, good. Now, in one-two-three-four," she inhales. "Hold it. Good, now out, four-three-two-one."

It takes a couple of tries. Nancy does too. She can't tell why, it's not like it changes anything, but she syncs to them instinctively. She can listen to Eddie doing the same. All three of them, as if they can breathe for him. And slowly, painstakingly so, Steve manages to slow down with them, until they are all breathing as one. 

Finally, he sighs and drops his head again, all tension drained from his body. Relief washes over Nancy as the air in her bedroom seems to clear. Silence stretches, now that they can't hear Steve's ragged breathing. 

And then, a tiny voice: 

"I'm sorry."

"Steve..." Robin begins, but she's cut off by him again. 

"Shit. I'm so sorry, I don't- The kids!" His head snaps up, abruptly. Both Nancy and Robin stumble back when he springs to his feet. "Shit, the kids, they gotta be so scared, I'm-"

The girls try to reach for him but he's already walking briskly past them and straight to the door, with such determination that Nancy has to admire Eddie Munson's guts to stand between Steve Harrington and the kids he so clearly adores. 

"Hey, man, slow down," Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder. 

Nancy is already on her feet, but afraid to approach and make it worse. 

"Move, Munson. I gotta tell them- I didn't mean to. They were so scared. Let me-"

"Harrington, you just scared those kids shitless," Eddie says, though there's no harshness in his tone, no reproach. "You're just gonna make it worse if you walk out of here looking like a ghost. So you better take a moment and lay down, man."

It's a testament to Steve's exhaustion, Nancy thinks, that Eddie can so easily push him back until his calves hit her bed's edge. When his knees buckle and he all but drops backward, she jumps a little. But he's alright. He just looks drained.

"Fuck," he hisses, glaring at the ceiling. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing, man," Eddie crosses his arms, staring down at him. "After all the shit we've been through? It was about time you let it all out. I mean, if nothing else, I'm surprised you held on one piece for so long."

"Yeah," Steve laughs and the sound is all wrong, Nancy realizes, wet and broken and nothing like the lightness they'd shared before. 

And yet, it catches her by surprise. The way his face blotches, his brow pinches, his mouth turns downwards and his lower lips tremble. She only realizes what is about to happen when it is right there, clear as day. Oh, but Steve- Steve is quick. His hands reach up for a pillow and he presses it over his head like he's trying to smother himself with it. It's not enough to drown the sound of the first sob. 

A chill runs down Nancy's back.

She has seen Jonathan cry before, of course, quiet, silent, privately. She knows what that trust means. She has also seen Mike cry, loud and righteous and usually feigning fury to hide his pain. This is nothing like either of them. 

Nancy Wheeler discovers in that very moment that she's utterly unprepared for the sheer vulnerability of Steve Harrington sobbing in her bedroom and trying, oh so hard and uselessly, to hide it. The next sob doesn't even make a sound, but she can see his chest shudder with it. 

Thank goodness, she's not the only one caught off guard. Eddie's eyes find hers, wide and horrified, filled with an all too different kind of panic than before. The uncomfortable knowledge that they are witnesses to something they weren't invited to. There's another muffled sob that makes them both turn and find Robin sitting already next to Steve. Her eyes, though, are on both of them... and filled with some quiet kind of fire. 

Robin Buckley stares them down, like she is ready to kill them both with her bare hands, as she says in a light cheerful tone, "Hey, Eddie, Nance? Why don't you two go tell the kids everything's alright?" It is not a suggestion. It's an order, a warning, and one they are both all too happy to accept. 

Eddie all but rushes to the door, and Nancy follows him, banned from her own bedroom. 

But she's curious too, always thirsty for the facts. In this particular case, she's dying to figure out the exact nature of whatever binds those two together. Those two are a puzzle that's been nagging at her brain for weeks now and she can't figure it out. So she pauses by the door and looks back, peeking in through the closing gap. She sees Robin gently push the pillow aside and pull Steve in for a hug. A hug that, against anything Nancy expected, Steve returns. He wraps himself around her like he's clinging to a lifeboat and they hold each other tightly as he cries. Ashamed, she gently closes the door. 

Down the hall, Eddie needs backup as he gets assaulted by yelling kids on all fronts. They throw at him anger and questions and plans and theories about the Upside Down and monster sickness and plans to save Steve's life before it's too late. Nancy promises herself that later, when he can listen without beating himself over it, she will tell him about it, about how loved he is.

"A panic attack?!" Dustin jumps when they finally explain. He sounds utterly offended.

"What the hell is that?" Lucas frowns. 

"A form of Post Traumatic Stress," Nancy says.

They look at her like she just spoke Russian. 

"Post Traumatic Stress?" Eleven repeats every word slowly like she's tasting each syllable in her tongue to see how they sit with her. 

"Yes."

"What? Why?" Dustin insists.

"Why?" Eddie laughs. "Maybe because of all the traumatic and stressful shit we have been dealing with?!"

"Well, we've all been through that and we aren't going crazy," Mike snaps. 

"Watch your mouth, Wheeler," Eddie warns, and, incredibly, Mike backs down with an apologetic shrug. 

"Everybody deals with trauma differently," Max says, quietly, like she is reciting someone else's words. 

"Yeah, Mike, don't be a dick," Lucas puts an arm around Max's shoulders.

"Why the fuck would Steve freak out now, though?" Dustin's entire face is scrunched with something between confusion and anger. 

"Because that's what happens after you go to Mordor!" Eddie seems to be losing his patience. 

"We all went to Mordor!" Dustin yells back.

Nancy gears herself up to deliver an explanation, to make Dustin understand that maybe —just maybe— they are all actually dealing with a lot of different things despite going through the same thing. Tell him that sometimes one doesn't react the way they think they will when danger comes... or after. That even she has done and said some awful, terrible, hurtful things as she dealt with loss and fear. That at least Steve didn't harm anyone. That maybe Steve is just afraid and won't tell them, that he carries a bat around like any second the world could attack them, that he jumps with every call like he's expecting bad news, that he has been worrying about all of them so much that maybe, maybe, he forgot to worry about himself. That she should have known. That they all should've known that he wasn't alright, but none of them asked.

Thankfully, though, before she can go down that particular rabbit hole, Eddie bends down until he's eye to eye with Dustin. "Now, listen to me, Henderson, I told you to respect your elders and I fucking meant it, alright? Now, Harrington, that dude is tough as nails and we both know it. If you make even the slightest fun about this, I will make your life the ninth circle of hell, you understand?"

It's not that Dustin looks scared of Eddie (Nancy knows by now that those two adore each other), but something about the warning seems to make it past Dustin's stubborn skull and make the seriousness of the situation clear. He nods once. 

"That goes for all of you!" Munson straightens up, looking at the crew of children like they are his soldiers. And, like such, they all nod dryly. 

Only when Eddie's eyes catch Nancy does she notice the worry behind that act. 

They wait about half an hour before they can all go back to the room to check on Steve. 

The first thing Nancy hears is laughter: bright and easy and loud. Childish. That's the Steve Harrington she once knew. By the time the door opens and they find Steve and Robin shoving candy for each other to catch with their mouths, the bubble of worry that had been building inside Nancy's chest has dissipated entirely. 

Dustin is the first one to push into the room with the subtlety of a hurricane. Steve, hand raised and ready to toss Robin a candy, freezes. His face is still puffy and his eyes red-rimmed. No smile can hide that.

And then Dustin says "you guys suck, I'll show you how it's done" and before she knows it both Steve and Robin are throwing candy at him and cheering whenever he succeeds. The rest of the kids join in to the fun and soon everyone is throwing candy around like they are just kids, like they can laugh and forget about the horrors of the world outside. They can't. They can't hide the scars and the pain of what they've been through, but maybe that's alright too.

After a while, Eddie has organized sides and teams and rules for what he calls the First Candy Tournament of the Hellfire Club. Steve —main instigator of the chaotic candy-throwing battle— sits back, grinning at the mess of his own doing. They needed that laughter. Nancy sits next to him, their backs pressed against the bed's headboard, their shoulders brushing each other.

"Hey," he says. There's a shyness in his voice that pains her a little. She thinks back to him sobbing earlier and her heart twists.

"Hey," she tries for a smile. "You good?"

She should've asked sooner, shouldn't have needed to see him break to realize maybe he wasn't. Steve looks a little sad for a moment, but it's barely a flash before he gives her that cocky reassuring smile she knows to be an act, meant to comfort her.

"Yeah, all good. Thanks, Nance, for... well, before. Sorry if I scared you."

"Don't... it's okay, Steve. I'm glad you're okay." 

She can see him swallow back before he nods. His eyes trail quickly to Robin, whose reassuring smile Nancy catches before it fades. Whatever he's going through, at least there's someone he will let in. But it's not enough. Not for her. You don't have to act, she wants to say. You can tell us, you can show us if you are scared, you can cry... you can cry with me too. Instead of all that, she says:

"You're helping me clean up the floor later."

And there, again, is that laughter she's missed so much.

Outside, the storm has passed. The air will be fresh and clean tomorrow. A good cry has that effect on people too.