( they never have time to feel these things, the soul sucking emotional exhaustion and bone-deep terror, until after it's all over. because letting it hit, letting it sink in, letting themselves really be fucked up about things, just means they won't be ready when the next punch comes. first Upside Down experience, wasn't Steve's shining moment. he still remembers falling into the panic spiral, pacing in useless circles, and trying to call the cops on a faceless monster with a hundred terrifying teeth. he's... well, is it weird to say he's getting used to it? it is weird, how can he get used to being interrogated by Russians or flesh monsters or being dragged through portals by a tentacle?
it's not that Steve expects the nonsense that happens to him, it's just that he can expect some kind of nonsense will. so, knowing it'll happen, knowing that if he doesn't keep moving and keep rolling with the (sometimes very literal punches), then maybe he won't get up from the next one. maybe they still don't have time for this, because it's not like they're safe. they're at least uncertain, a place they don't know, entirely too removed from the battle they'd just been fighting.
it's just... it's just, going from with her to gone? really fucked up his mettle, his ability to just keep moving. Steve showed up here terrified, uncertain if Nancy had ever woken up. that he was Vecna'd right along side her, and there was nothing either of them could do. wandering empty streets had felt crushing, either trapped in his head or dragged into some new bizarre happenstance, because he knew so absolutely Nancy was in immediate, imminent danger, and he wasn't there when she needed him.
so, sue him. Steve needs a little reassurance right now. does it hurt? objectively yes, though the adrenaline of finding her does push past the pain. way more important to focus on the fact she's here, she's real. Nancy hugs him back and Steve isn't in the state of mind to overthink that, just overwhelmed by the fact she's okay. he can worry about overstepping later, apologize later, second guess what it means, that she hugged him back, later. because right now he feels like he needs this contact. more than he needs a clean shirt for sure. )
We're okay, ( Steve repeats, a rusty laugh escaping the cage of his lungs. they are, and they aren't. they get a little less okay every day, don't they? but, functionally, they're walking and breathing and talking. could be so much worse. ) You're okay. You're good. ( good enough to tolerate what must be the world's grossest hug, to be fair. his hands slip from the small of her back to land at her hips as it sinks in exactly how close they are, and how... not wearing a shirt he is. oh, yeah, and still pretty sore, on the bat snack department. he should... yup. let her go. Steve has to do it one hand at a time, like his body hasn't quite caught up to the logic of his brain. )
Sorry, I just... ( nope, he'll come back to that sorry later, it just isn't the most pressing concern now. and he'll be able to collect his thoughts better later, anyway. ) You think this is some Vecna thing? Why would he shunt us off to an empty beach town we've never heard of? Is it some kinda clue? ( if it is, it is a bizarre clue. this is way over Steve's head. but there's gotta be some reason they're here, right? )
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it's not that Steve expects the nonsense that happens to him, it's just that he can expect some kind of nonsense will. so, knowing it'll happen, knowing that if he doesn't keep moving and keep rolling with the (sometimes very literal punches), then maybe he won't get up from the next one. maybe they still don't have time for this, because it's not like they're safe. they're at least uncertain, a place they don't know, entirely too removed from the battle they'd just been fighting.
it's just... it's just, going from with her to gone? really fucked up his mettle, his ability to just keep moving. Steve showed up here terrified, uncertain if Nancy had ever woken up. that he was Vecna'd right along side her, and there was nothing either of them could do. wandering empty streets had felt crushing, either trapped in his head or dragged into some new bizarre happenstance, because he knew so absolutely Nancy was in immediate, imminent danger, and he wasn't there when she needed him.
so, sue him. Steve needs a little reassurance right now. does it hurt? objectively yes, though the adrenaline of finding her does push past the pain. way more important to focus on the fact she's here, she's real. Nancy hugs him back and Steve isn't in the state of mind to overthink that, just overwhelmed by the fact she's okay. he can worry about overstepping later, apologize later, second guess what it means, that she hugged him back, later. because right now he feels like he needs this contact. more than he needs a clean shirt for sure. )
We're okay, ( Steve repeats, a rusty laugh escaping the cage of his lungs. they are, and they aren't. they get a little less okay every day, don't they? but, functionally, they're walking and breathing and talking. could be so much worse. ) You're okay. You're good. ( good enough to tolerate what must be the world's grossest hug, to be fair. his hands slip from the small of her back to land at her hips as it sinks in exactly how close they are, and how... not wearing a shirt he is. oh, yeah, and still pretty sore, on the bat snack department. he should... yup. let her go. Steve has to do it one hand at a time, like his body hasn't quite caught up to the logic of his brain. )
Sorry, I just... ( nope, he'll come back to that sorry later, it just isn't the most pressing concern now. and he'll be able to collect his thoughts better later, anyway. ) You think this is some Vecna thing? Why would he shunt us off to an empty beach town we've never heard of? Is it some kinda clue? ( if it is, it is a bizarre clue. this is way over Steve's head. but there's gotta be some reason they're here, right? )