Painful Days | Steve Harrington

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Steve was a man who always wanted to put others first, who wanted to care for those around him before he cared for himself

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Steve was a man who always wanted to put others first, who wanted to care for those around him before he cared for himself. And sometimes it infuriated you to the point that you just wanted to force him to take care of himself, to comfort him and to coddle him like a child, when you knew he would hate you for it.

But sometimes, on the days where life was tough and your body ached with pent up pain and frustration, all you wanted was Steve to comfort you in any way he could.

When you came through the front door just after eight, Steve instantly knew that something was wrong by just catching a glimpse at your down cast face, and the way you were hunched over and walking slowly to the large couch in the middle of the living room.

He knew that stance, the one where your body bent over because of pain that shot up through your stomach and chest, where your forehead crinkled as you tried to keep yourself from crying. The battle at Starcourt had left more than just emotional and mental scars on the victims, it had left cuts and bruises and irreversible damage that seemed to never go away. And though the purple coloured marks were gone, and the scars were fading into pale white lines, the pain was still there, creeping up and up and up as the wave of frustration and sorrow and fear started to overwhelm you, like it did today.

"Hey, how was work, sweetheart?" Steve came over to you with a look of concern plastered on his face and his voice soft, helping to ease you down onto the couch. You grimaced as the pain moved through you, leaning into Steve's touch as he moved you so you were resting against the fluffed up pillows.

"It was okay. I'm exhausted though, and the pain in my sides and chest is back." Steve frowned as you gestured your sides and front, and he shook his head slightly before picking up the blanket that rested on the couch and covered your legs and torso with it.

"Okay, well give me ten minutes I might have something to make you feel a bit better." He leaned down to place a soft kiss on your forehead, telling you to rest and squeezing your shoulder gently before he moved away and walked back towards the kitchen.

Whenever you were feeling unwell, in pain or jus generally frustrated and annoyed with the world, Steve had this unnerving ability to make everything seem just a little bit better, with some food, company and distractions. So as soon as he headed into the kitchen, you knew he had a plan up his sleeve, a good one too.

You stayed on the couch as he prepped, lifting your legs up onto the couch so your body was lined up along the soft cushions, and picked up the television remote to flick through the numerous channels. The sounds from the television acted as white noise as you breathed slow, and even though you didn't feel overly exhausted, you could feel yourself starting to drift off as you heard Steve searching through the fridge.

When Steve approached you again on the couch, he held a large tray covered in bowls and plate filled with different foods he knew would make you happy. A pasta dish that reminded you of childhood, a plate of soft and warm buttery bread that he had cooked this morning, a dish of your favourite dessert that took him forever to master, and for a moment, as he placed it down next to you and stood up to leave the room again, all you could do was try not to cry.

"Steve, this is...you didn't have to make all this for me." He smiled at you as you grabbed his hand before he could move away, and he shook his head as he squeezed your hand gently.

"I know I didn't, love. But I wanted to, because I know that warm food always makes you feel better, and I'm guessing you haven't eaten in a while because of the pain." You let out a small shaky sigh as he kneeled down in front of you, taking both of your hands in his.

"But I don't deserve this...I should be able to just move on with the pain, I should..." You try to continue to speak, but your voice starts to fail and Steve looks at you with so much worry and pain and care in his eyes that you can't help but let a tear fall, not even realising you were crying until a hand comes up to cup your cheek and wipe away the tears.

"You should eat, rest and let me take care of you, baby. I know the pain is bad, and I know right now you feel exhausted, useless, worn out and like you're the biggest burden in the world, but to me, you're the exact opposite. Both of his large and warm hands are cupping your face now, making you look at him even though you start to sob, and Steve moves forward to lean his forehead against yours, warm breath ghosting over your face as he starts to talk again. "To me, you're an absolute miracle, the absolute bravest and strongest and most deserving person I know. And I know you don't think you deserve this, but you're wrong. You, sweetheart, deserve all the love and affection and care in the world. And if I can make you feel just a little bit better by cooking you some home-made meals and getting you a hot water bottle and giving you a back massage, then I'm gonna do those things. And there's nothing you can do to stop me." He leaned down and kissed you then, soft and sweet and quick, pulling away before you had a chance to pull him closer like you wanted to.

He ran a hand through your hair and then stood up and walked away, grabbing the hot water bottle from the cupboard and flicking on the kettle to start boiling. Steve sent you glances as he waited for the kettle to boil, smiling softly as you started to eat the meal in front of you, watching as a look of happiness and comfort warmed over your face.

This is how he wanted to remember you, he realised as he took the kettle and filled the hot water bottle. Happy, warm, smiling softly and sitting in contentment as the light of the television flickered gently across your face and you slowly ate the food that sat in front of you. He didn't want to remember you in pain, with tears down your face and blood coating your skin. He didn't want to close your eyes and see you scared or angry or hurt, he just wanted you happy and safe. And he would do everything in his power to keep you that way.

When he took the empty plates away later on, you had a wispy look over your face, a mix of sleepiness and love that was only reserved for him. He took you to bed then, helping out of your work clothes and into some track pants and a t shirt, tucking you under the blankets along with the hot water bottle. He stripped himself down to his boxers and pulled on a pair of loose-fitting sleep pants, before slipping under the sheets and moving next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist as his other hand gently massaged your back.

Steve whispered words of love and comfort as you curled against him, resting your head on his chest and revelling in the warmth of his body. And just before you fell asleep, you opened your mouth to speak, feeling the pads of his fingers against the bare skin of your back and waist, his warm breath drifting over your head, his legs tangled with yours.

"Thank you, Steve. Thank you so much." He smiled at your words, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before replying, voice barely a whisper.

"Hey, you don't need to thank me, you just need to sleep and hopefully feel better in the morning. And you wake me up if you start to feel the pain again, alright? I'm here to take care of you, I love you, sweetheart." You pressed yourself into him further, a hand resting on his chest.

"I love you too, Steve."

The two of you were never going to have a perfect life, were never going to be free from the pain and sorrow and horror that plagued you in your early years. You were always going to have a body littered with scars, a mind filled with nightmares when the world got dark and you felt alone. But sometimes, little things made it feel a little better. Like home-cooked meals, loving words, gentle touches, bodies under piles of blankets and two lovers falling asleep wrapped in each other. And for now, that was good enough for you, and it was certainly good enough for Steve. Because the both of you knew that the other person would always be there to make everything seem a little bit brighter.

  

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