A minute. Maybe two.

 

It’s all it takes for Eddie to go from laying on top of Steve—his lovely, perfect person—to being pinned to the carpet of Steve’s stuffy living room by Officer Callahan.

 

The piece of shit who broke down Steve’s door, screaming something about a warrant on suspicion of harboring a wanted criminal.

 

It’s his fault.

 

My fault, Eddie thinks, tears streaming, making the carpet damp.

 

He might be shouting, screaming his throat raw. He can’t hear anything.

 

One minutes, maybe two. Steve kissing him. Steve’s door being broken down. Steve shoving Eddie to the floor and falling on top of him, using his own body as a shield.

 

Steve isn’t moving now.

 

And Eddie’s ears ring. Can’t hear a goddamned thing.