Chapter Text
When Dustin woke up he immediately felt the emotions from the past day come rushing back. It was a shitty feeling, so he forced himself back to sleep. He woke up again, it was around eleven in the afternoon. He didn’t want to get up, he didn’t want to see anyone. He just wanted to do something to calm his nerves.
He checked the fridge first, then the counters, then the cabinets.
It was annoying. He knew his mom drank on random occasions, you’d think it would be easy to find. He was about to give up when he remembered the cabinet under the sink.
It had five bottles of random wines, what looked like a six-pack, and vodka. He knew better than to touch the Vodka, he hadn’t eaten yet and was sure it would immediately make him vomit.
So he took a can, it was disgusting.
But he forced himself to down it quickly, knowing that as soon as it was done he could just wait for it to make him feel better.
It helped, it really helped.
He even felt like dancing, so he turned on the radio. It was Frank Sinatra and the song was Nancy.
‘With the laughing face’ he thought, laughing silently at it.
If only he could be as calm as this song, be swallowed by the peace, and collapse into himself. If only he could melt into someone, something. Nothing was ever close enough these days. Nothing could take away the constant pang of loneliness he felt. But this did. Drinking did.
He loved it and he hated it.
His dad used to drink…but he always got aggressive.
‘I’m not like that. I’m not like him. I can do this because I’m not hurting anyone.’
Plus, if anyone was going to hurt, it was going to be him. Always.
“She takes the winter…and makes it summer. Summer can take…some lessons from her.” He hummed, holding his shoulders as he danced carelessly in the living room.
It was nice, it felt like he was alone, yet peaceful.
He stopped for a moment, returning to the kitchen to fetch a cup and pour himself a glass of wine.
This one wasn’t bad, it was actually kind of good?
It tasted like grapes, but it still had the bitterness at the end. He could get over it.
The next song wasn’t as happy, but it was calm.
‘The End of the world by Skeeter Davis.’
Sometimes Dustin wished it was the end, for him at least. He never wanted anyone around him to get hurt, but if it meant his suffering would finally stop, he was willing to make that sacrifice- which sounded incredibly fucked and selfish.
The thought made him angry at himself, he knew what he needed to do. He shouldn’t be thinking like that. His friends and mom shouldn’t have to be hurt because he was messed up.
He set the wine aside and took a seat on the couch, pulling his shorts up to expose an already bruised thigh.
This was nothing new, every time he did something wrong he’d punish himself. So that’s what he did.
He punched his thigh several times, allowing himself to whimper loudly.
It hurt but he enjoyed the burn his knuckles felt after it, he enjoyed the way his thigh pained and the way it made him wobble as he stood up again.
He was fucked up.
Dustin hadn’t always been this way though. He liked to think of himself as a good friend and student, hopefully a good son too. He used to be happy, smile and enjoy being around people. He didn’t know what changed. One day he woke up and felt pain like he never had before…but it wasn’t physical. Fuck did he wish it was though. He’d take a beating over this any day.
He eventually stopped going out as much, hanging out with his friend, and being present. He still played DnD at school, Eddie made it enjoyable, so did his friends- but after it finished he always remembered his real life.
Life wasn’t anything like all those books said. It wasn’t magical and amazing. He experienced those horrors they read, yet it didn’t have the happy ending they did. The events would finish and he’d always return to reality, to fear.
It didn’t matter. He felt good right now. Enjoy it while you can.
He began to dance again, this time he wasn’t sure what the song was but it was slow like the other two- happier than the previous one. He dug his nails into his shoulders, dancing and throwing his head around to the beat. He wanted to peel his skin off. He wanted to dig his nails into his skin and shed himself of this shell. He hated it- the feeling of it- the look of it. He hated it.
He dug his nails deeper into his skin, allowing a few hisses here and there.
When he finally stopped he left a few marks, nothing that wouldn’t go away though.
He loved the marks on his body. The ones that stayed for a while and disappeared- or the ones that stayed forever. Those were his favorite. It’s not like anyone really saw them anyway, they were old and he normally wore a long sleeve out. These marks were pretty, they were puffy and left texture on his skin. He wished he could make more but he promised himself he wouldn’t make anything noticeable.
He poured himself another glass.
He wished he could pull out his hair and teeth, feel the burning on his head and taste the blood in his mouth. In a way it was disgusting. He felt disgusted with each thought he had. But he deserved it. He deserved to hate himself, to punish his body and ruin it.
It didn’t matter though.
He heard a knock, it couldn’t be his mom, she was still working- plus she would’ve called to let him know she would be back early.
He fixed his pants and set his drink down. Opening the door.
“Steve?” He asked, he wasn’t supposed to be here, he didn’t invite him or anything.
“Yeah kid, it’s me.”
It was silent for a moment, but then Dustin let him in and closed the door.
“Why are you here?”
Steve took a seat beside where Dustin was sitting earlier, so he returned to be near him.
He smelt familiar, like it was a smell he knew but it was sweet, like a perfume.
“I’m just checking on you. Your friends asked me too, they said you haven’t been hanging out with them. I just- I’m worried too…you haven’t stopped by the store like normal and apparently Eddie hasn’t seen you out of your club. Is everything ok? I mean- I’m always here for you, always man.”
He didn’t know what to say, so he picked up his cup and drank.
Steve knew that smell, he’s smelt it before. He just couldn’t remember what it was.
“I’m doing ok, just busy and tired. With school and everything. The year is coming to an end and I just want to be sure I can pass.”
That was partly a lie. He was tired. He was busy- just not in the normal way. But he wasn’t doing well in school. He wasn’t failing or anything but his grades had definitely plummeted. It got to the point he started hiding his report cards. It didn’t matter though, nothing really did.
“I try to go to our DnD stuff because it’s nice to just escape. It’s like my sport? If that makes sense. I didn’t mean to avoid you, I’ve just been studying a lot and trying to get some rest.”
Steve knew what that smell was. He used to be around it all the time, even smell like it. It was alcohol.
“Dustin, have you been drinking?”
He stopped, set his cup down and faced him. He was doing good hiding it, he even had full control over his words. Sure he slurred a few but everyone does that sometimes. He’s been well behaved, how can he even know?
“It’s getting late Steve.”
“You’ve been drinking. Is that what you’ve been drinking as we were talking? Why are you even-“
“You should go.”
“Dustin you shouldn’t be doing that. You’re still insanely underage- I mean why do you even have too? Is something going on?”
“It’s getting late. You should go, Steve.”
“No- tell me. Please. We can talk about this, or why this is happening. I’m here for you, right now. Open up please. I know something’s wrong.”
“Get out! Just leave me alone.” He yelled at Steve standing up and leaving to refill his cup.
“Fuck- Dustin no.” Steve said, walking in front of him to block the cabinet and taking his cup to put in the sink. “Let’s talk ok?”
“Fuck you. Get out of the way.”
“No. Let’s calm down ok?”
“Fuck you. I hate you. Get out of the way.”
“You don’t mean that. You’re drunk. Let’s just go sit down.”
“I don’t want to.”
Steve ignored his statement, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the couch.
Dustin pulled away and returned only to hit him. He punched everywhere he could. He knew that if he provoked him enough he’d have to hit him back. He’d get punished like he deserved to. He didn’t stop, he kept hitting as Steve tried to avoid his hits, asking him to calm down. Finally he hit Steve straight in the mouth.
He stopped punching and waited, waiting for the punch to return…but it never came.
“Fuck! Hit me! Hit me back! Punch me in the fucking mouth! Hit me!” Dustin yelled, throwing another punch to Steve’s stomach. He needed to hit him back! He deserved it, he deserved to get his ass kicked. He wanted it.
“No. I don’t want to.” Steve replied, pushing himself back against the couch, trying to reposition himself so he didn’t hurt entirely. The punches weren’t bad but some definitely hit sensitive places.
“Fucking hit me. Pussy.”
“No.”
“Fuck you! Fucking hit me! Stop being a bitch and hit me!”
“I know what you’re trying to do. I won’t hit you. You can hit me all you want but I’m not returning any of them. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Dustin finally gave up, he sat down beside Steve and held his head, “you should’ve hit me back. I deserve it. Please hit me back. Beat the shit out of me please. Just- please. Please hit me. Knock my fucking teeth in. Kick me. Ruin me. Please just hit me.” He begged, crying as he leaned over, holding Steve’s hand.
“I wouldn’t- I couldn’t do that. I love you dude. You’re my little brother. I….I can’t do that. I’m sorry. Let’s just talk, please. I’m here for you.”
“I- I don’t want to. Not yet. I just. I want to sleep. I want to cry then sleep.”
Steve nodded, pulling Dustin close so his head was laying on his stomach- which really hurt. It was fine though. He would rather hurt than let Dustin.
He sobbed. It hurt so much. He let it all out, screaming into Steve’s shirt as the other ran his hand through his hair, doing the best he could to comfort him.
He would talk to Steve. Just not yet.