Chapter Text
“I swear it’s real!” Steve protested, as Robin sighed. “This is the, what? Fifth, six, time you’ve told us this?” She said, huffing. Steve threw his hands up in the air, “And yet you still don’t believe me?!” he whined. Robin made a face at him, “El said she didn’t sense anything wrong. You’re just being paranoid.” She tutted. Unhelpful… Steve thought rossly to himself.
Even his best friend didn’t believe him. Unbelievable!
He ground his teeth together. “Come on, I’m serious. I swear.” He tried again. Robin’s eyes drifted away from the manual she was reading. “And I’m working. You should be too, now, help me with this!” Robin ordered, pointing at the broken machine that was supposed to be playing their daily movie of choice.
Steve sighed, shifting around to Robin’s left to peer at the VHS player. “Here, let me,” Steve said, but Robin smacked his hands away. “Stop it, you’re doing it wrong.” She declared. Steve made an offended face. “Seriously?” He gawked, “I didn’t even do anything yet!” he whined.
Robin scoffed, “Well I could tell what you were doing. Now stop it, and read the manual first.” She said pointedly. “OK. Wait… where did you put it?” Steve asked, peeking around on the counters surrounding them. Robin paused, peering at Steve then under the countertops, chairs, and cabinets. “Oops?” She said weakly, finding she’d already misplaced the damn thing. Steve simply rolled his eyes, feeling even more cross. “Fine. Do we have another?” He asked.
Robin looked up at him again, purring her lips in thought. She jolted her lithe form up from the seat, and pointed a finger towards the backroom. “Yup. In there,” She said. Steve frowned, not exactly wanting to go into the dark room alone, with whatever was watching him so contently. “What? You chicken?” Robin teased. Steve frowned at her, but brushed it off, moving back Steve rolled his eyes, “What? No.” He scoffed. Yes. yes, he was.
Steve pushed himself out of the ‘pit’ of counters in the front and moved into the backroom. The backroom was dark, and when Steve flicked on the overhead light, the damn thing buzzed. Louldy. He hated the sound, but only got a few seconds to dwell on the thought. The feeling of eyes burned into him much stronger now. Steve whipped around to look behind him, but only found his lasting shadow. The shitty polarizing lighting of the backroom made his shadow stretch unnaturally, and shine abnormally dark. It looked like an ink stain of a perfectly clean canvas. It stuck out like a sore thumb, and suddenly Steve realized it had nothing to do with the lighting.
He gulped, fumbling for the manual, before dashing out. He was too scared to flick the light off. Whatever, Robin could get it later when her shift ended. Steve was getting off of work soon anyway.
“Alright you big dummy, help me with this properly.” Robin called when Steve returned. He tried to make the color come back to his cheeks, tried to make himself look less tense and hunched. It must’ve worked, because Robin didn’t seem to notice. But she was too preoccupied anyway, so Steve figured she wouldn't have noticed either way. “Right right. Hold your horses, I haven’t read the damn thing yet.” Steve grumbled, flipping the manual back open.
The shift went by relatively fast after that. While it wasn’t particularly pleasant, it wasn’t unpleasant either. The eyes watching him always gave him a small reprieve when he was with people. Especially loud, jovial people like Robin. Steve’s mind had still been a little scattered however. His strange looking shadow had really stuck with him. But he didn’t bother to tell Robin. He daunted she would have listened anyway.
When Steve made it back to his car, sliding into the driver's seat, he turned the radio on. For a split second, static ate up the space, filling the stereo with horrible noise. Steve flinched, and was quick to flick it off. Just when it started speaking to him no less. He could’ve sworn he heard his name screech through the increasing snap of white noise. Steve gulped, but took El’s word for truth; she’d not sense anything wrong. Nothing was wrong. He was fine. Totally. Totally ok. A-ok!
Steve willed his shaky hands to steady as he drove home. When he arrived at his place, he made a mad dash from the car to the front door. He nearly cried when the key fumbled and fell, and he had to spend more time outside in the dark. The overbearing feeling of eyes shot ten-fold now that he was alone in the dark. It wasn’t much better when he finally made it inside. With all the lights off, and empty doorways, halls and corners of his house, he nearly fainted from fright. Steve was quick to turn on every light in the house that existed-- save for the basement. Like hell he’d go down… there.
It wasn’t long before fatigue hit Steve. He hadn’t been sleeping well with all this weird stalker shit. Not to mention he’d been faced with a longer shift than normal, and the excruciating decline of fear-based adrenaline leaving his body--near as swiftly as it’d come.
So, when Steve finally kicked off his shoes and coat, he collapsed down onto his bed. He hoped, prayed, that he could finally fall asleep that night. However, sleep was a ways away from him.
The feeling of eyes, and the fear of their owner paralyzed him awake for a long time. It took him nearly two hours to finally get comfortable enough to drift off. And while Steve had taken that as a win, it was most definitely a mistake.
He should have never let himself grow weak in the presence of the Upside-down’s creation.
While Steve slept, whisked away somewhere dark and serene. Pulled under by exhaustion, a known figure loomed.
Long curly hair bounced in matted, bloody locks around a sharp-featured face. Stark red eyes pierced through the lingering shadows to peer down at Steve. It didn’t take much time for the eye’s owner to slide its clawed fingers close to Steve’s face. Its talons tangled into his long locks and twirled them around like a comforting sight.
The slight movement roused Steve from his light sleep, and the man shifted. The talons were quick to untangle themselves, but were unsuccessful in disengaging with the human being. The ring finger of the claws slightly nicked Steve’s forehead, causing small beads of blood to form and pool.
The blood slicking down his face and onto his nose was enough to get a rise out of Steve. He woke up with a light jolt, and rubbed at his face. Pulling his hand back to find it considerably warmer and wetter, and of course, redder. Steve gasped, jumping out of bed and stalking off to his bathroom, gauging the situation.
Somehow, he’d managed to nick his face in his sleep. Despite his confusion, relief washed over him. For the first time in several weeks, he was granted respite. The feelings of eyes were gone.
So… why then, did he suddenly feel so alone?