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Steve snorted as he looked down at his phone, at the time displayed there.
00:21
He’d told Billy he’d be home by eleven so he wouldn’t wake Billy when he got in, given that Billy hadn’t been sleeping too well for the last few weeks. In hindsight, that was an extremely dumb promise to make, given how his nights out with Robin usually went.
Steve wasn’t too worried – it was a Saturday night, and Billy didn’t have to be anywhere on a Sunday so Steve could drag his own hungover ass out of bed and make Billy pancakes as an apology while Billy had a lie-in. Billy would grumble and moan as Steve got into bed, but he wouldn’t be awake enough to do anything more than that. If Steve was smart about it, he could get the apology breakfast out of the way before Billy could even get properly annoyed about Steve throwing his albeit rash promise out of the window.
Steve put his phone back in his pocket as he realised he was slightly too buzzed to feel especially guilty at this moment, but he did pick up his pace as he walked down the high street, his hands shoved in his pockets against the cold. He ducked down the street that connected him to the road that his bus went from, trying to remember if they had blueberries in the fridge –
A hand grabbed his shoulder out of nowhere and Steve crashed into the brick wall to his right. His shoulder took the brunt of the impact, bending awkwardly, but before he could recover, he was being spun around – his back was shoved against the wall and his vision was suddenly filled with the black barrel of a gun.
“Empty your pockets,” a voice from behind the gun growled.
Steve’s stomach clenched as his brain took a split second to catch up – to process what his eyes were telling him.
“Now!”
Steve startled at the shout as his brain finally realised that he was being mugged. His mouth flapped open like a goldfish, wondering if he should call for help – he should, right? The main road wasn’t that far away – someone could come –
The sight of the gun stopped him. Even if he did yell for help, nobody would come faster than it would take the man to pull the trigger. The man was clearly tense – Steve didn’t want to provoke him –
Clearly, though, Steve’s inaction was provoking him enough. The man pressed the barrel of the gun up to his forehead as he hissed at Steve.
“For fuck’s sake, give me your wallet!”
Steve flinched as the cold metal pressed into his forehead. His hands were shaking as he reached into his pocket, searching for his wallet. It didn’t occur to him to fight back – besides, wasn’t fighting back stupid? He could just cancel his cards. He couldn’t take out a bullet from his head.
Give the man what he wanted, and he would go away.
His hands were trembling so much he nearly dropped the wallet as he offered it to the man, only saving it – himself – by catching it tightly as it slipped. He didn’t want to drop it. He didn’t want to do anything to provoke the man.
“Your phone, too,” the man hissed as he snatched the wallet and shoved it in his pocket. His hands were fidgeting. Steve was right – the man clearly wanted to get out of there almost as much as Steve.
Steve’s suspicions were confirmed a moment later when Steve didn’t immediately comply.
“Hurry up!”
Steve blinked back tears as he dug out his phone from his pocket, offering it to the man. His hands were still shaking – he still didn’t want to drop the phone – didn’t want to startle the man – not with a gun still pressed against his head.
He breathed a sigh of relief a second later when the man took a step back, the gun leaving his forehead as the man shoved the phone in his pocket. The man glanced down the street, towards the bustling main street that ran alongside – there would be people there – Steve could find someone – maybe find a bar – or the all-night McDonald’s down the road – somewhere he could call for help – call the police – call Billy –
“The necklace,” the man growled.
Steve suddenly froze, his eyes snapping back to the man.
“What?”
“The fucking – the necklace you’re wearing!” the man hissed. “Hand it over!”
Steve glanced down at his chest – the chain of Billy’s St Christopher pendant was glinting in the light from the street. Billy had given it to him for Christmas – something even more meaningful to Billy than a ring – a commitment to Steve that said that he wanted to be in Steve’s life forever. It was the only thing Billy had left of his mother, and he had given it to Steve because he never wanted to leave Steve. The necklace wasn’t really leaving Billy – Steve was just a custodian.
“Please,” Steve gasped. “Please – you’ve got the phone – you’ve got my wallet – it’s not worth much-”
“I don’t care, give it to me!”
“Please-”
The man lunged forward at Steve’s protest, catching the necklace in his fingers. The chain broke with a sharp tug – Steve grabbed at it – wrapped the broken chain in his fist –
He caught a glimpse of the gun raising as he leant forwards to catch the chain –
BANG!
Steve’s world vanished in a kaleidoscope of colours behind his eyelids. His ears were ringing. He could hear nothing beyond the bang – beyond the ringing as he fell backwards – the hands left him – his back hit the brick wall – but the pain didn’t come…
He blinked his eyes open as he realised he was still breathing – every breath expanded his chest as his brain finally caught up – his body relishing every inhale and exhale of oxygen in his lungs as he realised he was alive.
He hadn’t been shot.
But the gun had gone off by his face – it had been right by his head – he’d heard it – he couldn’t hear anything else now – he glanced around towards his left ear –
The brick less than two inches from his ear had been shattered – Steve could see the shiny metal bullet lodged in the centre of a crater, flattened – a small bullet-sized crater in the brick that could have been his head – would have been his head if he hadn’t moved forwards with the necklace – Steve’s breath caught in his throat – in his chest – fluttering against his ribcage as his voice forgot how to work in a realisation of just how close he’d come to death.
Two inches.
Two inches away.
The man was gone. He’d taken off with the gunshot – vanished into one of the main streets on either side of the alleyway into the crowd, finding camouflage in a city of people who barely cared what was happening beyond the screens of their phones.
Phone –
He needed to call Billy –
The man had his phone –
The man had tried to take Billy’s necklace –
Steve glanced down at his hand, at the chain still wrapped up in his fist, the chain that the man had abandoned. The chain that had almost cost Steve his life.
“…Hey! Hey, are you okay?”
Steve’s ears were still ringing, but something was slowly filtering through his right ear – a voice – a concerned voice – he turned right to where he could hear the voice – there was nobody there –
He startled when a hand touched his left arm. He flinched, turning towards the person who had touched him. The touch was gentle, a man and a woman – a couple – standing on his left – they were saying something – it was only coming through his right ear – why couldn’t he hear properly?
Why wasn’t the ringing stopping?
“The police are on their way,” the man was saying. “Are you okay? Do you need an ambulance?”
Steve didn’t know.
Steve couldn’t hear them properly.
Everything felt underwater.
He glanced down at the chain in his hand, trying to control his breathing as the orange light from the street glinted off the gold chain.
-:-
The chain was still wrapped around his fingers as Steve’s fist stayed clenched around it for dear life.
The orange light had been traded for white, fluorescent lights. The brick wall he’d been leaning against had been traded for an equally uncomfortable chair. His ears were still ringing – he could only properly hear out of his right ear. He sat there in the police station, clutching at the chain in his hand like it was holding him together.
Perhaps it was.
He was shaking so much it felt like his limbs were going to fall apart at any second.
He tried not to think about how two inches was all the distance that had been between him and death.
Instead, he went over the facts. Again.
“So, the man who attacked you,” the police officer was saying. “He grabbed you in the alleyway, pointed a gun at you, told you to hand over your wallet and phone and the necklace and then fired his gun at you when you refused?”
Steve began to nod. Then he shook his head.
“No, I – I gave him my – I gave him my phone and wallet,” Steve muttered. “I asked him not to take the necklace. He tried to grab it – and I – I tried to stop him.”
“And that was when the gun went off?”
Steve swallowed before giving a single nod.
“And he ran off straight after?”
Steve blinked down at the chain still in his hand. He didn’t know – didn’t have a clue what had happened in those moments between the gun going off and realising that he wasn’t dead.
The officer didn’t press the issue, scribbling something on a notepad. “Do you think you could ID the man in a line-up? Maybe work with a sketch artist to come up with a likeness?”
Steve blinked again, trying to think back – trying to think past the gun – to construct an image of the person beyond. He remembered his free hand fidgeting – he remembered the dark coat – he’d had pockets, he’d shoved Steve’s stuff in there – but the face?
Steve shook his head. “I – I don’t know – it all happened so fast-”
“Steve!”
Steve’s head snapped up at the sound of the voice he wanted to hear above anything else. He spun in his chair to see Billy rushing over, hair a mess, pushing past the officer who was trying to show him the way and running the six feet between them. In a moment, Billy was crouched beside him, wrapping him up in his arms and pulling him against his chest.
“Stevie, thank God, are you okay?” Billy pulled back, brushing Steve’s hair away from his face. “Oh my God, what happened?”
The relief that Steve felt at the sight of Billy swallowed him whole. He opened his mouth to try and explain when it hit him.
It had really happened. He had been shot at and had only survived by sheer luck. He could have died. He could have never seen Billy again.
His voice died as a tear slipped down his cheek. The first tear catalysed a wave of chilling, numbing fear as he practically fell onto Billy, burying his face in his shoulder and just let Billy hold him. Billy looked slightly bewildered as he started stroking his back, inadvertently running his hands gently over the bruise from where he’d been shoved against the wall.
“Hey, hey, Steve,” Billy breathed gently into his ear. “Steve, it’s okay, you’re safe, I’m here.”
Billy held him while Steve rested his head against his shoulder, letting the wave of terror at what had almost happened – what had been two inches away from happening – wash over him. Billy held him through the worst of it, muttering gentle placations into his ear.
“What the hell happened?” Billy finally asked when Steve was a little calmer. “I got a call saying you were attacked by some guy with a gun.”
“Aggravated robbery went wrong,” the officer explained, sounding ever so slightly bored. “The gun went off in the struggle-”
“What?” Billy drew back, a horrified, alarmed expression on his face as he looked from the officer to Steve.
“Missed,” Steve gave a tiny hiccough.
Billy shook his head, frowning as he clenched his eyes shut in frustrated thought for a moment.
“The struggle – what struggle?” Billy asked, his eyes wide. “Steve, tell me you didn’t try to fight this guy.”
Steve felt his chest tighten as a fresh wave of tears threatened to overwhelm him. He looked down at his lap as Billy’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped in realisation.
“Steve, please tell me you’re not that stupid-”
“He tried to take your necklace,” Steve protested. “I couldn’t let him-”
“The necklace – oh my God,” Billy stood up, pacing in a circle as he rubbed his eyes. “You tried to stop him from – Jesus – Steve, what the hell were you thinking?”
The terrifying, mind-stopping reality of what could have happened – what had almost happened threatened to overwhelm him in the face of Billy’s ire. It wasn’t fair – he’d tried to do everything right – he’d handed over his wallet, he’d given up his phone – he hadn’t even had a chance to cancel his cards and all he’d tried to do was stop the man from taking the only thing that Billy had left of his mom.
“I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking straight-” Steve sniffed.
“Clearly,” Billy huffed. “Jesus Christ, Steve, you could have been killed – you’re lucky you weren’t-”
The dam in Steve’s chest burst at Billy’s words. Hearing it so starkly laid out by Billy in the face of his visceral reaction finally let loose all the fear he’d been feeling since he’d been shoved up against the wall. His whole body crumpled in the chair, his back curving as he bowed over his knees, catching his face in his hands as the tears wouldn’t stop coming. His body shook with sobs as Billy’s anger deflated and an arm reached around his shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” Billy murmured in his ear. “I’m sorry, it’s just – I was so worried – it’s been a long night. And – fuck – Steve, that pendant isn’t worth your life.”
Steve leant into Billy’s arms and just let himself be held. He knew this – he knew on an intellectual level that Billy would choose him over the chain still wrapped around Steve’s fingers any day of the week. But it wasn’t just Billy that the necklace meant a lot to. When Billy had given it to him in their apartment the size of Steve’s childhood bedroom, one of two presents underneath their tiny plastic tree, Steve had barely been able to contain himself. He had spent a solid two minutes completely speechless as he’d stared down at the pendant in the box, while Billy smiled and shrugged about how it wasn’t a big deal, how it was staying in the family, how he’d still basically have it, only he’d be putting it around Steve’s neck in the morning. Giving Steve the pendant had meant the world to him, had meant that Steve was a permanent part of his world, that he wanted Steve to be a permanent part of his world. It wasn’t an engagement ring – neither Steve nor Billy were particularly sold on the idea of marriage after watching their parents’ disastrous attempts at it – but it was the closest either would ever come to proposing. The pendant meant Billy to Steve. It was irreplaceable to both of them.
The officer across the table was clearly tired of being ignored and pointedly cleared his throat.
“Right,” the officer said as Steve peeled his head out of Billy’s shoulder. “Well, I’ll be honest with you, Mr Harrington, in cases like these, the chances of us catching the perpetrator are very small. It was a random attack – it doesn’t seem to have been targeted. I’m sorry.”
Steve’s head snapped up to the officer’s face in alarm. The man nearly shot him – and would probably never be caught?
“What?”
“I know it’s scary,” the officer said. “But we’ll make sure you get home safe. In future, try to avoid travelling alone after dark, stick to well-lit, busy areas, and if, God forbid, you do ever end up in this situation, we normally advise just giving them what they want. You can replace your possessions – you can’t replace your life.”
Steve was rendered utterly, utterly speechless for a moment. He knew this – he knew all of this – he’d done what he could – he’d barely stepped off the main road – he’d given them what they wanted – right up until the man had demanded the one thing Steve couldn’t replace –
Billy nodded next to him, an arm still around Steve’s shoulder.
“Thank you, officer,” Billy muttered.
The officer looked between them. “Do you have a ride home?”
Billy nodded. “I brought my car,” he explained.
Steve felt the ball of anxiety in his chest ease slightly as the officer nodded. “Well, in that case, I think you should probably head home if you can’t think of any more details. You’ve got my number if anything else occurs to you.”
Steve barely heard the words over the ringing in his left ear – shouldn’t it have stopped by now? He barely heard Billy’s second muffled ‘thanks’ as he leant his head on Billy’s shoulder. He stopped listening – he stopped caring – as the officer vaguely gestured to his statement asking him to sign it before handing him a crime number to give to his insurance company.
Billy practically frogmarched him out of the building towards the car when the officer finally let him leave. Steve felt completely numb as he fell into the passenger seat. He blinked, perplexed, when Billy handed him his unlocked phone, open on a conversation with Robin.
“You should probably call her,” Billy explained as Steve looked at him blankly. “I may have called her when I got the call – I think she was pretty worried.”
Sure enough, now that he knew what he was looking at, the messages were just a wall of grey.
00:49 – I just tried calling him
He’s not answering
Billy I think something’s happened
00:53 – Missed call
00:53 – Let me know when you get to the police station
Tell him to call me
00:58 – Billy have you heard anything?
Billy ffs answer your phone
Billy
Is Steve ok?
Have you found him?
01:09 – Billy are you there yet?
Have you seen him?
Is he okay?
Ducking hell Hargrove
Ffs call me
01:09 – Missed call
01:18 – Missed call
01:18 – Billy you know I’m not going to bed until you call me
You’re not the only one worried ok
Call me asshole
I’m going to stay up until I know he’s ok
Or safe
Call me
Or tell him to call me
Idc which
Is Steve ok?
01:23 – Ok I’m gonna assume you’re driving or something but 1 of you dinguses call me when you can
Don’t worry about waking me
Idc if it’s 2am or 4am or 11 when I’m working
Just fucking let me know what’s going on
Steve blinked down at the most recent set of messages while Billy started up the car. He still couldn’t hear properly as Billy started driving. He didn’t think he could face talking to her – reliving what had happened – hearing her take on it – not after what Billy had said.
“Please tell me you’re not that stupid.”
The words rattled around his head as he tried to stop his hands from shaking. He felt sick – not just from reading in the passenger seat of a moving car, or even just from the adrenaline crash that finally had him barely able to think beyond the phone in front of him. He couldn’t call Robin now. He couldn’t bear to get another lecture.
So he typed out a text. He kept it clinical. Barest details.
Hey Rob, it’s Steve. I’m ok. Someone stole my phone and wallet. Can’t talk right now. I’ll call you tomorrow at some point.
The message flashed up blue as the little check mark next to it announced its successful delivery. It wasn’t long before three grey dots appeared underneath, bouncing around until a series of messages finally appeared.
Thank god
I was worried
Get home safe
Tell Billy to call me when you get home
And you’d better call me tomorrow Dingus
Steve let out a shaky breath he hadn’t known he was holding as he locked the phone and put it down by the charging port and stared out at the street in front of him. He caught a glimpse in his periphery of Billy casting him a sidelong look, his expression unreadable before Billy readjusted his grip on the steering wheel. Steve couldn’t bring himself to look him in the eyes, instead starting as the traffic lights they were approaching turned green. He watched the streetlights flash above his head in a rhythmic pattern as he willed himself not to think.
They pulled up into the parking garage under their apartment building as Billy turned off the car. Steve stayed still, sat in the passenger seat as Billy got out and walked around to Steve’s door, opening it for him as Steve just stared at the blank concrete wall ahead of him.
“Steve,” Billy murmured, his voice serious. “Come on.”
Steve needed more than he would ever admit the guiding hand Billy placed on his shoulder, a constant reassurance that he was there, that he wasn’t on his own. It wasn’t enough though, as Steve’s eyes flickered around the garage – someone could be hiding behind any of them – his heart start to beat faster in his chest as he barely noticed his pace pick up.
All in all, it was a relief to get into the dingy elevator that took them up to their third-floor apartment.
Billy opened the door into their tiny hallway that wasn’t even wide enough for the two of them to stand side by side and flicked on the light. Steve felt completely numb as he stepped inside, awkwardly shuffling into the coat rack as Billy closed the door and, for good measure, pulled the chain across it. He stood there, staring at a patch in the floor while Billy flitted into their kitchen, bedroom and living room, turning on all the lights and making sure all the windows were locked. Steve heard him rattling around in the kitchen, pulling various things out of various cupboards before suddenly catching a glimpse of Steve, still standing by the coats hanging from the rack on the wall. Billy paused, putting the mug in his hands down on the counter as he watched Steve, frozen in place, listing sideways slightly as he stared into space, shaking, looking more lost than Billy ever remembered seeing him.
Steve wasn’t really aware of the expression on his face, or of how close he was to tears, until Billy stepped out of the kitchen and finally pulled him into his arms, letting Steve completely melt against him.
“Hey,” Billy breathed into his ear. “Hey, it’s okay now.”
Steve buried his face in Billy’s shoulder and let out the tears he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He choked out a sob as Billy held him, letting himself sag completely into Billy’s arms as he clutched at Billy’s front.
“I thought I was going to die,” Steve gasped into Billy’s shoulder.
Billy twisted his head slightly to press a kiss on the side of Steve’s head – the only part of Steve he could reach without letting him go.
“You didn’t,” Billy breathed back. “That’s what matters. You’re here now. You’re home with me. And we don’t have to go anywhere tomorrow. We can just stay in bed all day if you like.”
Steve readjusted his head, resting his cheek on Billy’s shoulder while nestling his face into the crook of Billy’s neck. Billy pressed another kiss on his left cheek while he gave Steve a reassuring squeeze.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” Billy murmured. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry at the police station. I can’t imagine what it must have been like…”
He trailed off, running a hand up Steve’s back and nestling it in his hair.
“When I got the call, I – I’ve never been more scared in my life, Steve,” Billy breathed. Steve noticed a slight hitch in Billy’s breath. “They told me you were attacked by someone with a gun – and that I needed to get to the police station – that was – that was it – and I didn’t know what had happened to you. I was – I was freaking out – Buckley can tell you – and then I saw you – and you told me what had happened…”
He trailed off, heaving a shaky breath as he held Steve against him. Steve finally put his arms around Billy’s back.
“Sorry,” Steve breathed.
“No, Steve, don’t,” Billy shook his head slowly. “Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. Some asshole jumped you on the street. That’s not your fault at all. And the necklace – I get it. I shouldn’t have gotten mad, and I’m sorry. None of this is your fault, love.”
Steve gave a soft hum as he pulled Billy closer, causing Billy to give a soft, fond laugh as he gave Steve another squeeze.
“You know you’re my world, Steve,” Billy breathed, the smile audible in his voice. “I can’t lose you. And if that means picking you up at ass o’clock in the morning after you and Buckley have gotten hammered at hers, then fine. Because after tonight, there’s no way in hell I’m going to risk anything like this happening to you again.”
Steve finally felt a smile pull at his lips as a warm feeling spread through him. He pulled his head out of Billy’s neck and finally looked at him.
“Thanks, Bill,” he mumbled.
Billy smiled at him, finally pulling away a little bit.
“Now,” Billy said. “Why don’t you go get into bed? I can make you some hot cocoa?”
Steve pressed his lips together to bite back the worst of the smile that left his eyes feeling warm again.
“Will you-”
“Yes, I’ll put your stupid marshmallows in,” Billy rolled his eyes as he turned back towards the kitchen. “Now go to bed. It’ll just be a minute.”
Steve gave a small snort of laughter as he wiped at his eyes, kicking off his shoes and stepping into their bedroom that was barely big enough to house their bed. He pulled his pyjamas out from under his pillow – a habit instilled in him by Billy – and climbed into bed, piling the comforter high on top of him.
Billy emerged a moment later, a mug piled high with miniature marshmallows in his hands as he handed it to Steve carefully. Steve gave him a small smile as he took a sip. He frowned, looking down at it and back to Billy in surprise.
“Is there-”
“Caramel?” Billy finished for him as he started pulling his own pyjamas on – in the sense that an old tank top and nothing else could constitute pyjamas. “I figured a near-death experience called for it.”
Steve lowered his eyes down to the marshmallows melting into a sticky congealed mess on the top of the drink. Billy was extremely precious about his caramel that he had only found in this one shop in San Diego. To date, Steve had never been allowed any in his coffee.
“Don’t make a habit of near-death experiences,” Billy grumbled. “This is a one-time thing, Harrington.”
Steve’s mouth pulled into an involuntary smile that spread across his face as Billy finally climbed into bed next to him, wrapping an arm around Steve’s shoulders and pulling the comforter higher up around Steve. Steve leaned into him, only hindered slightly by the steaming mug as he curled up, enjoying the feeling of safety that came with lying in his own bed in Billy’s arms, clutching the best mug of cocoa Steve had ever had.
“I love you, Bill,” Steve murmured as he turned to look at Billy.
Billy leant in to press his lips against Steve’s, correctly reading the oh-so-subtle look on Steve’s face.
“Love you too, sweetheart,” Billy murmured as he pulled away slightly – just enough to pluck the mug from Steve’s hands and set it down on the bedside table behind him as he leant in for another kiss, parting his lips and pulling Steve closer as the kiss went deeper. Steve suddenly pulled back, his eyes falling to his lap.
“Do we… do we have blueberries?” Steve asked.
Billy’s face crumpled at the complete non-sequitur into an expression of utter bemusement, his eyebrows almost touching and his cheeks raised as he cocked his head at Steve.
“What?”
Steve bit back a grin at Billy’s face as he focused on his hands, twisting his finger around the blanket. “I was… I was going to make pancakes,” he explained. “As a ‘sorry for being out late’.”
Billy snorted as his face finally smoothed out into fond understanding. He reached up and carded a hand through Steve’s hair.
“How about we make them together?” Billy suggested softly, letting Steve tuck his head into the crook of his neck. “And I can think of a few other life-affirming ways you could make it up to me tomorrow.”
A sly edge crept into his voice as Steve felt himself completely incapable of holding back the grin any longer. Steve bit the corner of his lower lip.
“Well,” Steve breathed. “You know how much I like morning sex.”