He finds some tacky tube of glue in one of the many junk drawers around the station, next to the tape and staples. He glues his mug back together while she plays music. He drinks, ignoring the chemical taste, or the way it constantly leaks down his hand. He drinks. He drinks. He's fine. He is.

The world is ending. Maybe. For now.

He snorts. She sounds so stupid when she says it, but he loves her and she loves him and they've got matching holes in their soul or whatever that they curl up inside of when they need it.

"After the show, you want me to come home with you and we can shower?" she asks like that's definitely a normal thing friends do all the time. It is. Like, it is, but it isn't, he knows it's not, but he can't argue against it. "And maybe have some breakfast that isn't 50 ccs of black tar caffeine?"

They're late for the morning show. He's pretty sure...but she brings him to her lap and holds him until the shaking stops. Until the ringing has dulled back to normal, reserved for his left ear again. Until he's breathing. Normal. He's normal. He's normal. He's normal.

She lies. El would have some words for her, can tell you that much. Goddamnit, Steve should have some words for her but...but. Holy shit, he can't breathe.

"It's fine," she says. "Stop," she says and, "hey. Come here."

"Hey. Hey, hey, you're okay," Robin says, her voice going softer. Softer. The softest. Steve reaches for her leg where he'd smashed it with the coffee cup and she just slaps him away. "It's fine, dingus. Didn't even break skin."

*art not set books. But still

Oh I totally get it though, it's so much!!! WE WEEP TOGETHER 🥺😭

(i got a little more after this)

He must've made a weird noise cause his throat felt awful and Robin looked up, the anger subsiding, receding. Back in her own Quarry. She crawls to him and takes his face and Steve doesn't cry, so it's really weird whatever she's wiping from his face. Sweat. Maybe. Coffee?

"Oh my god," he says again, like an idiot. Because he hurt his best friend. Over a coffee cup. A stupid, goddamn...a coffee cup! The coffee that's soaking into his knees that very second! Over nothing!

"Ow!" she wails, not in that sad, wet sort've way when the pain hurts more than on the surface but in your guts and in your heart. Real damaging pain. No, she wails in anger. Anger is safer. That's surface. "The hell was that? I thought you were having a panic attack!"

"Oh my god." Steve crawls forward, numb hands reaching as she grips her leg, rocking slightly. She sees him and kicks him with the toes of her sneakers. It barely nudges him. He doesn't even feel it. "Oh my god."