Chapter Text
Steve could feel as bodies pressed against him, dancing and swaying to the loud party music. But he stood stock still in the centre of the room, eyes glued to his cup in confusion and hands beginning to shake, panic already pooling at the base of his throat.
He felt lightheaded, the room beginning to sway as though he was drunk. But there was only soda in his cup, which was why Steve was staring at it confused. There was no way he was drunk. He didn't drink. Not since the Russians drugged him and Robin, and made him give up Dustin's location before beating him to within an inch of his life. No thanks, he needed to be in full control of his body at all times.
So when he stumbled while trying to get away from the dancing, he felt the panic close around his neck, burning and branding him and he pushed his way up to the bathroom, not caring how he looked.
He brushed past someone he thought looked like Eddie, but he couldn't stay, couldn't be in the open, he needed to throw up and he needed to do it now. He heard someone call his name but it didn't matter as Steve's feet suddenly weighed a tonne each, every step feeling like an effort as the world turned into honey and syrup around him. He could feel tears on his cheeks, and then someone was in front of him.
He tried to fight, tried to push back, but his stupid arms wouldn't listen and he was being led to the bathroom, the voice a constant soothing thrum beside him. It didn't matter because Steve couldn't move properly, blinking against the immeasurable weight of his eyelids while his heartbeat echoed in his ears. It was too fast, and he could hear his own haggard breathing in the small bathroom.
Gentle hands pulled his hair out of his face as Steve used all of his energy to push his fingers to the back of his throat and throw up into the toilet, gagging but doing it again and again. His eyes, throat and nose on fire, breaths coming in short painful gasps as his body shook violently. Tears blurred his vision as the person holding his hair grabbed his wrist to stop him throwing up again, and he started crying in earnest.
He hiccupped out Robins name, she would know what to do, she would know how to fix this. The hands disappeared for a second before returning quickly, coming to snap in front of his face, and Steve noticed the glint of silver rings.
Eddie, he thought with elation. The panic settled down when he realised it was only Eddie, not anyone who would hurt him. He visibly relaxed and let out a weak laugh, hands grabbing onto Eddie's, fingers shaking and covered in spit, but Eddie didn't pull back. Instead he was watching Steve's face carefully, a guarded expression on his features as his eyes ran up and down.
It made Steve feel safe, it made him feel protected and so he forced himself to talk, to not worry Eddie so much with his problems.
"I'm sorry." He began, his voice rough and strained from throwing up. "You don't have to stay, it's-"
"If you say it's okay, pretty boy, I'm flushing your head down the toilet." Eddie bit back, voice harsh and not full of the usual sarcasm and joy. Steve shrunk back, the sounds of the Russians yelling clanging through his head. He could feel the phantom pains through his face and body, jaw aching at the memory of being dislocated and then punched right back into place. He hadn't even realised he closed his eyes until Eddie's hands were on his cheeks, trying to get him to look up.
He complied, and saw the expression of blind panic lessen on Eddie's face as he rocked back, eyes still fixed on Steve. Come on, he thought, this is Eddie, he won't do anything. Eddie would never hurt him. In a rush, Steve opened his mouth, too intent on telling Eddie that he forgot to phrase it so he wouldn't worry.
"Someone spiked my drink and now I can't move properly." Eddie went still, hands bunching together as a look of fury ripped across his face, replaced with concern in a heartbeat as he reached out to Steve. Steve couldn't understand the expression, he couldn't grasp why Eddie was mad. But the concern was comforting, so he leant into it, letting Eddie pull him up to wall, the two of them sitting side by side.
Still feeling panicked, Steve started counting his fingers, slowly curling each one up and down and he went from 1 to 10 and back again, but the drug was obviously still in his system as his fingers refused to comply. He couldn't even pull his knees up to his chest, instead he had them flung out in front of him, hands resting in his lap gently. It was a total contrast to the mess going on in his head, his mind screaming at him to run, to move, to do anything to protect himself.
All that came out was a pitiful whimper and the trembling of his lips as he cried.
He felt a hand rest on his wrist, light and not restrictive, and he could feel the cool metal of Eddie's rings as he tried to comfort Steve, still reeling in the anger at the situation. Steve managed to roll his head to the side to see Eddie watching him intently, eyes capturing every miniscule movement Steve made. He shut his eyes tightly as Eddie's face flashed into Robins crying one, lying on the floor next to Steve and screaming for the Russians to stop.
But the darkness only made it worse, and when he struggled to open his eyes the memory of his eye being swollen shut from blunt force trauma ripped it's way to the forefront of Steve's mind, and he jolted forward, trying to get his body to do something. He started tilting and couldn't stop, the feeling of vertigo swimming in his head as the image of the world swimming in and out of view as the drugs settled in prodded at him like an annoying toddler.
This was awful, this was exactly why Steve didn't drink. He was so easy to take advantage of like this, and the thought of going through the worst pain of his life again caused Steve's throat to close of his own accord, and he gasped as air stopped entering his lungs.
He felt a palm flatten on his chest, pushing him back upright as another found its way onto his cheek, keeping his face upright and steady. The comforting pressure wasn't threatening, and Steve forced his eyes open, meeting Eddie's, which were blown wide in fear.
"Stay with me, pretty boy, Robin's on her way now, she won't be too long." Eddie's voice was higher than usual, thin and tight with worry. Steve noticed this and tried his best to breathe for Eddie, to wipe that look off his face. He'd seen too many people look at him like that.
Eddie wasn't stupid, despite what his grades said, and he knew this reaction had to be coming from something more than being spiked, even if that was awful enough. But the question remained on the tip of his tongue, his brain debating if it was a good idea. Of course, being Eddie Munson, his rational side lost and Steve listened as the words came out of Eddie's mouth.
"Steve." He started firmly, eyes going hard and black in the lowlight of the bathroom, and Steve dragged his gaze into Eddie's. "Have you been drugged before?" Steve laughed before he could help it, high pitched and cracking, feeling a pit open inside him as he started sobbing. He nodded at Eddie, shame creeping in and colouring his cheeks, he knew it wasn't his fault, but he felt so powerless like this.
Steve didn't know what to expect, which he supposed was part of Eddie's charm, never knowing what he would do or say next. But when Eddie scooted closer and led Steve's head onto his shoulder for support, and arm coming around him to hold him close, Steve couldn't believe it.
"Did Robin ever tell you what really went down at Star Court Mall?" Steve knew he sounded pathetic, words slurring together into a mess, but talking helped his panic, and Eddie was being so sweet. It would make both of them feel better with it out in the open.
Eddie shook his head, but Steve could feel him tensing again, bracing for bad news. Steve didn't want to keep dropping bombshells on him, but when his own body felt like it was under rapid fire, Steve couldn't conjure up enough energy to really worry about it.
"While everyone was saving the world, Robin and I had been kidnapped by Russian's and taken into their base under the mall." He knew it sounded ridiculous, like something out of one of Eddie's campaigns, mixed with whatever bullshit the news spurted each afternoon. But they lived crazy lives, and he was confident that Eddie would believe him, even if deciphering Steve's slurred words was going to be difficult.
He felt the hand on his shoulder begin drawing small circles and tapping a rhythm gently, reminding Steve that he was there. If Steve wasn't already crying, he would burst into tears at the gesture. But alas.
"They drugged us, and the government doctors told me that I was lucky to be alive and still functional after the beating I took." Eddie's hand faltered its ministrations before starting up again, even slower this time, syncing up with his measured breaths. He knew that Eddie was trying to keep his cool for him, but at this point, it would take nuclear war for Steve to react anymore, the drug combined with the exhaustion from a panic attack was leading up to a pretty zoned out Steve.
"I haven't touched alcohol or drugs since. I can't. I tried, once, and the second I heard my words slurring I panicked and ran. Robin found me a few hours later, out of it and lost in the woods, still walking away from the party." It felt nice to get it off his chest, Steve decided, and Eddie was safe, Eddie was his friend.
It was at this moment that there was a timid knock at the door and Robin's voice piped up, Steve tried to raise his voice and tell her to come in, but the extra use of his vocal chords that would've been required for that were cut off by whatever was in his drink. He felt another wave of tears start up, soaking Eddie's shoulder as Steve remained stuck in place, wanted to move but unable to.
Eddie responded for him, letting Robin know to keep it calm and that Steve was with him. Robin, in her usual style, flung the door open, slammed it shut behind her, and dropped to her knees in front of Steve, hands hovering over him in uncertainty.
He opened and closed his mouth, breathing harshly as he tried to get his tongue to work, but it seemed like the drug had finally kicked in. All that left his mouth was a whimper and a line of drool, which Robin wiped off his face with the end of her jacket, looking worryingly at Eddie who was staring in desperation at Steve.
Steve tried to talk again, but nothing happened this time and his face crumpled in on itself as he felt his body shiver in response to the panic that was coursing through it again. Robin took on of his hands and held it, trying to provide any sense of comfort she could at Steve tried to cry, but nothing came up, only more noises of pain and humiliation.
"Someone spiked his drink, Robbie. He said it reminded him of the Russians, I think that's why he wanted you here." Robins jaw fell open as she stared at Eddie in disbelief, not sure on which part she should react to first. But like usual, her mouth was ahead of her brain, and it prioritised the conversation.
"Steve told you about the Russians? Wait, he was drugged? Hold on, he told you the Russians drugged him? Oh god of course that's why you needed me here in such a rush." It all fell out in one breath, words blending together and she look upwards, trying to search her brain for a plan to get Steve home without dragging him through the crowds of people downstairs.
The situation was getting dire, Steve starting to shake violently in fear as his eyes flickered between the two of them, wide and pupils blown, every inch of his expression betraying how utterly terrified he was in this moment. As if a lightbulb went off in her head, Robin straightened and let out a noise of triumph. The kid who owned this house had a set of stairs outside, leading up to his parents balcony so they could go directly to the pool below and then to the ensuite without walking chlorine through the house.
Robin thought it was the most upper class thing she'd ever heard, and she understood none of it, but Steve had explained it to her once, saying his parents wanted one, but the metal didn't look good with their fascia. At least he had the respect to look embarrassed when he said it, and Robin made sure to tease him about how rich his parents were the rest of the day.
Shaking the mental tangent off, Robin explained the stupid and reckless plan. But Eddie couldn't think of anything better, too focused on Steve's glassy stare and quick breaths, eager to agree to any plan that got him somewhere safe. Which was how he found himself agreeing to stay at Steve's house until morning to make sure he was okay.
It didn't matter, he'd crash on the expensive couch and make sure Steve woke up tomorrow, but right now they had to follow Robins plan, which sounded simple enough.
Eddie would carry Steve through the parents bedroom, down the stairs, and Robin would drive his van round to the back where they would load him in, and Eddie would drop Robin off and carry Steve into his own house.
Worry shot through Eddie's heart when he realised Steve couldn't even agree or disagree with the plan, pained eyes meeting his own and pleading. For what, Eddie didn't know, but he hoped it was in agreement.
He managed to scoop Steve up into a bridal carry, his head tucked under Eddie's chin and his legs falling loose over his arm, a complete dead weight. He could feel Steve still crying, and it filled him with the determination necessary to do this.
He and Robin nodded at each other and walked out into a wash of noise from the party downstairs.