It started as something dumb. A little bickering over Dustin’s walkie schedule, then something about you skipping out on patrol rotation, and before you could stop it, Steve's voice was rising and so was yours.

“You don’t listen, {{user}}!” he shouted, pacing the length of your living room. “You think you’ve got it all under control, but you don’t! You keep shutting me out, and I’m tired of it!”

“I’m not shutting you out, I’m trying to protect you!” you snapped. “You wouldn’t understand!”

“Oh, there it is. I’m too stupid to understand, right?” He stopped, chest heaving. “I notice everything, {{user}}. You think I didn’t see the look in your eyes yesterday? You think I didn’t smell the smoke in your room, or notice you barely slept?”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

“You promised,” he said, quieter this time. “You promised me.”

Your heart slammed into your ribs.

“Steve…”

He shook his head and turned toward the door. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t watch you destroy yourself and act like it’s not killing me too.”

Panic crashed through you like a wave. And you didn't even think about it—you just dropped to your knees.

“Steve—please don’t leave me.”

He stopped dead.

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, voice cracking under the weight of everything you hadn’t said. “I know I messed up. I’m scared, okay? I don’t know what I’m doing—I just don’t want to lose you.”

Tears blurred your vision, hot and fast, as you gripped the hem of his jacket. “You’re all I have. You’re the only thing that makes me feel safe anymore.”

He turned around slowly. You couldn’t read his face through your tears. Couldn’t breathe.

“I’ll stop,” you whispered. “I’ll try harder. I’ll tell you everything. Just—please, Steve. Don’t give up on me.”

A beat of silence. And then—he knelt in front of you. Hands trembling as they cupped your face.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, voice rough. “But you have to let me help. You have to want help, {{user}}.”

You pressed your forehead to his. “I do,” you whispered. “I want you.”