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The Hardest Test	By : NMI Category: 1 through F > Family Matters Views: 4547 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Family Matters, nor the characters or stories from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. All sexualized characters are eighteen ears of age or older as this story takes place.

Chapter List
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Eventually, Richie came home, and they knew the big kids in the house had to start acting like young adults. Richie didn’t need to deal with their drama, so they all tried to put on happy faces. When they heard him come in, Eddie went downstairs to greet him, Steve got up and finally changed his clothes, and Laura hopped into the shower.
     Steve did everything he could to completely forget the last few days, and in the kitchen talking to Eddie and Richie, he was almost able to, that is, until Laura walked down the stairs. When he heard her footsteps, knowing she was the only one left upstairs, he immediately started to tremble. He wasn’t ready to look at her again. He didn’t deserve to look at her again. He turned back to what he was doing, flipping through a takeout menu, and was able to avoid glancing up as she reached the bottom of the steps.
     Laura, coming down the stairs, wasn’t fairing much better, she knew she didn’t want Richie to think anything was wrong, because she really didn’t want her parents to find out. She was hoping she, Steve, and Eddie would take this whole experience to their graves. Her shower had helped to calm her nerves a little, but it didn’t clear her head. As she got closer and closer to the kitchen, though, her blood pressure spiked again. She had thought a lot about what Eddie said, but she still wasn’t sure how she felt. Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, she turned to find Eddie, Richie, and Steve huddled over the menus spread across the kitchen table. She was glad to have not entered the room to six scrutinizing eyes. She stared at Steve for a moment, finding that he didn’t look as villainous as he was beginning to in her mind. He still looked like that little dork who used to follow her everywhere she went and wait on her every whim… and stand with her whenever she needed him to. He was a little older now, and she noticed that he was a little fuller, and certainly taller, than he had been when they were younger. Her mind started wandering to the dreams she’d been having and she blushed. She realized one thing, staring at him in that moment, she needed to talk to him again, whether she really wanted to or not. She needed to figure out if these dreams were an indication that she wasn’t completely cured, a side effect, or something else entirely. She hoped she could manage to do it discreetly.
     “Hey, guys,” she said, trying to sound casual, “any idea what we’re planning for dinner?”
     Steve managed to avoid looking up at her until then, but when he heard her voice, he ached. He could hear the strain in it, the pain, the hoarseness from what was likely a lot of quiet crying. He looked up at her, immediately finding her sad eyes, and looked at her in a way that appealed for forgiveness, though he didn’t think he really deserved it. He held her gaze for a moment and they shared a quiet moment of uncertainty before they both shamefully looked away.
     “I’m hoping for Chinese, Richie is pushing for pizza, and Steve keeps waving around a menu from a Scottish restaurant and listing off their many varieties of haggis, so no. We have no plans for dinner.”
     She reached forward and grabbed a menu, “Oo, this Mexican restaurant is supposed to be great.”
     “Thank you, Laura, for adding another choice to the many restaurants standing in the way of me eating this century,” Eddie said, getting cranky with hunger.
     “I LOVE MEXICANS,” Steve shouted abruptly, causing everyone to turn to gawk at him in surprise. “I-I mean food. I really like Mexican food, so I-I am changing my vote to that, so heh…” He looked away, humiliated by his little outburst.
     “Ok…” Eddie said, ending the argument more out of pity for Steve than anything else. “I’ll go order, then. A little bit of everything work for everybody?” he asked and the room nodded and mumbled in agreement.
     “Cool,” he said, grabbing the menu from Laura and heading into the living room to make the call.
     Laura knew Eddie would only be gone for a few minutes, but she was dreading having one fewer buffer between her and Steve, so she turned all of her attention to Richie.
     “Richie!” she said with a big, plastic grin. “How was your sleepover?”
     “Fine,” Richie said, a little weirded out by the vibe in the room.
     “Tell me everything,” she said, taking a seat at the head of the table, on the opposite end from Steve who was shyly focusing on reorganizing the menus before putting them back in the take-out drawer.
     “Umm… There’s not really that much to tell,” he began. “We watched some movies, made a few prank calls. That’s about it.”
     “Ooo, who did you call? I love prank calls,” Laura said, grasping at straws.
     “No, you don’t,” Steve interrupted, forgetting for a split second that anything was amiss. It all came back to him and shot through his spine as he saw Laura look down, uncomfortably. Oh, yeah. There was a reason she was trying to keep Richie talking.
     “I mean,” Steve began again, “you don’t love them more than I do. Who did you call Richie?” He adopted that same plastic grin.
     “Uhhh... Brad’s dad, one of our teachers, the pizza place…”
     Laura nodded, praying he would keep talking, “What’d ya say?”
     “Different stuff, I guess.”
     “Well, c’mon, man! Give us something!” Steve shouted.
     “Steve!” Laura barked.
     Richie was officially not enjoying this conversation. “Umm… I’m gonna head up to my room,” he mumbled, as he stood and started backing away. “Call me when the food gets here. Bye!” He sprinted up the stairs.
     Laura and Steve were left alone in the kitchen, at opposite ends of the table, avoiding eye contact. The last time they were left in this position, though in different chairs, they were trying to save their friendship from the embarrassment of seeing each other in the naked. Either one of them would have paid big to go back to that level of uncomfortable. Though Steve broke the ice in that conversation, it was up to Laura this time.
     “Steve,” she began.
     Steve jumped when he heard her say his name again. He didn’t expect her to try to mend any bridges. He pulled back a bit, waiting for her to snap at him, but she never did.
     “Steve, I need to talk to you about something… about this.”
     Steve looked at her and saw that whatever she needed to get off her chest, it was important. He would have given her his full attention no matter what she wanted to tell him, but seeing the serious look on her face, he became deeply concerned that something more was wrong. He stared at her intently, waiting for her to begin.
     She looked up and saw that she had reached him and she looked away as she began to explain her problem.
     “Um. I’ve been having these… dreams, both daydreams and you know, night-dreams. They – um – they’re about that night,” she paused to gauge his reaction.
     His eyebrows had furrowed in guilt and compassion. He was certain he’d given her nightmares.
     “I just… I just need to know, how sure are you that the antidote was completely effective?”
     “Well, um. I’m pretty sure. I mean, are you in love with me?”
     “Well, no.”
     “Then, I think we’re good,” Steve said, surprised by her question.
     “But, these dreams–”
     “It’s normal, Laura Lee, to have nightmares after a traumatic event.”
     “They’re not nightmares, though, Steve. They’re good dreams… Really good dreams,” she conceded, blushing.
     Steve’s eyebrows rose at the implication. Good dreams? About that night? Maybe he wasn’t the villain in her story, after all. “Ok, like what?” he asked, trying not to sound too eager for detailed descriptions of the naughty fantasies that she’d been having about him under cover of darkness… and in broad daylight, apparently.
     “I don’t know, Steve,” but she did know. She remembered them well, but she didn’t want to give him a peak at how far it had gone in her head, just in case it wasn’t a faulty antidote that left her so confused.
     “So, in these dreams, you’re in love with me?” he interrogated, again trying to seem interested only as a scientist.
     “Yes, definitely.”
     “Like you were that night, with the same intensity?”
     “Yes.”
     That concerned him, actually. If her dreams really were mirroring the same passion, maybe he did mess up the antidote. He hadn’t finished testing it, after all.
     “And are you just repeating the night as it was, or are the events very different? Your brain processes information it’s experienced through dreams, so if it’s just a rerun, it’s probably not –”
     “It’s not a rerun. The events are very different.”
     “How so? What’s different?”
     She glanced at him quickly before turning away again in embarrassment. “You throw the antidote in the fire,” she said quietly.
     “Then you wake up or…?”
     “No, Steve. Then, we… Then, we do the forbidden polka,” she admitted to her shoes.
     Woah Mama! “Oh, well, that’s… That’s different,” Steve said, praying that her feelings were real, not a left-over from his torture. He did not believe he deserved her love, but in that moment, he damn sure still wanted it… as long as it was real.
     “Will you please look into it?” she asked, still ashamed.
     “Of course, Sweetums. It may not feel like it now, but you can trust me. I promise. I am going to fix this.” That is, if there is anything to fix.
     With that confirmation, starting to believe in him again, she nodded and stood from the table. “I’m going back upstairs for a while. Um… I’ll see you at dinner.”
     As he watched her walk away from him, he sent a tiny prayer to the Heavens. He promised to be on his best behavior until he solved the mystery as to whether her dreams were artificial or not. He also hoped that by making and keeping this promise, he could nudge the odds in his favor. Completely determined to find the scientific truth, whether or not it broke his heart all over again, he slipped out to the garage to get to work.
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The Hardest Test