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Instance one: Realization/ His Father
He knows he's never been the smartest.
In high school he had been comfortable with cruising off of whatever girl he was dating that felt either obligated or compelled enough by his charm to help him out. And if not one of them, it was whatever person he could find that he slotted into the mental category of "nerd" that he could intimidate enough to give him whatever answers he needed. Once he started dating Nancy the arrangement shifted a bit. His more incessant bullying of those he saw as lesser halted, and seeing as though he was dating inarguably one of the smartest people in all of Hawkins, he had her help him. She was reluctant and snappy, and constantly complained about stuff he didn't think important at the time.
"What about your future Steve? How are you going to fair in college if you constantly need me? It's not like I'm gonna be around forever, y'know." She would sulk a bit, and Steve would ignore the way the implications of the statement made his stomach churn. He instead would just smile and lean in to kiss her. Even if she wasn't around, off living her dreams at some big fancy college, Steve's whole life was set up for him. He would cruise through high school and then begin interning at his dad's company. He'd slowly work his way up until he took over and bam! Set for life. It was gonna be a cake walk, so why should stuff like his English and algebra classes be a forethought in his mind?
An avalanche of fights, otherworldly monsters, government secrets, little girls with superpowers, and general chaos momentarily interrupted said cake walk. Maybe even unknowingly permanently tainting the recipe.
Even after the dust settled, and he rekindled the open wound that was his relationship with Nancy, it wasn't the same as before. It was his senior year and he just had to finish out strong, maybe if he was lucky he would get a basketball scholarship and wouldn't be stuck in Hawkins the rest of his life. A year ago the thought would have been easy and comfortable, but now it just made his skin crawl in an uneasy way.
But it wasn't a cake walk anymore. He thought he and Nancy would be normal again too, but it wasn't. She wasn't helping him anymore In school, and due to him subconsciously pulling away from the "king Steve" title, as well as consciously distancing himself from his old friends and old attitude, he didn't really have anywhere else to go. That's when he first realized how far behind he was. He struggled to keep up in his classes, and he watched miserably as his grades tanked one by one, any chance at a scholarship slipping from his fingers. He struggled to pay attention in class, to read the seemingly endless words on pages without zoning out, to remember what should have been simple information and repeat it.
The weight of all of that mess, mixed with the fact that he was coming to terms with how his and Nancy's relationship was basically doomed to fail, was "bullshit" after all. He was heartbroken and dealing with the pressure of keeping up his unbroken appearance, the pressure of another looming dark entity threatening the lives of kids that he felt oddly protective over, and the pressure of his future hanging on by a thread. The pressure kept building and building until it became too much for him, so much that he felt like a scuba diver pulled from the depths of the sea too quickly.
He had just gotten home, he had been out driving the kids around, helping them with whatever they needed to get one up on this "mind flayer" thing, and it had gone on so long their plans had bled into the night. After locking the door behind him, he swiveled his body to be faced with the rigid figure that was his father standing a few feet away from him.
"Steven."
He sucked in a breath. Shit. "Uh.. hey dad."
"Where have you been?" He could basically hear his dad's teeth grinding against each other. And he tried to ignore how we saw his fingers flexing in and out of a fist. The smell of expensive boozing wafting off of him in droves, assaulting his nostrils.
"I was just helping out a friend, he needed a ride and I didn't realize we would be out so l-"
The gap between them was closed in an instant, too fast for Steve's reflexes to kick in. His back was slammed against the just closed door and he winced in pain. His father's grip on his shoulders was too tight, like they were trying to squeeze something out of him that didn't exist.
"Don't lie to me! It.. it doesn't even matter. I don't care what girl you've been fucking."
"I wasn't!-" a slap to the face shut him up. He reeled his head back to face his dad, knowing it wouldn't be good if he looked away from him. This wasn't the first time his dad was so drunk that he took whatever issues he had out on him. It wasn't the first time his dad screamed at him. It wasn't the first time he'd hit him. But a burning coil of shame burned in his throat, thick and hot, coppery in taste.
"Do you think it's funny? To be such an extreme embarrassment to the Harrington name? Do you get off at failing so spectacularly in school that not even Hawkins state will give you a second glance?" Steve tried to swallow the burning feeling I'm his mouth, but bile just came back up instead. He struggled to keep it down. His father put his head in one of his hands and pushed himself off of Steve, stumbling back a bit.
"I can't believe I have such a fuck up for a son. How did you turn out to be such- such a fucking idiot?" His dad let out a dry and humorless laugh. It could be mistaken for a cough. Steve hoped bitterly that he'd choke on it.
But he couldn't even be mad at his father. As much as his shoulders ached and his face stung, none of the surface wounds pierced half as deep as his slurred words. He struggled to keep it together, still trying to process it all as he ducked away from his fathers gaze. The worst part of it all is that he feels deep within himself, entangled with the crimson shame, was the belief that his dad was right, that everything he said was true. He couldn't even pretend to be an asshole and finish off his senior year in peace, his newfound sense of justice and his brain's unwillingness to let him stay the same piece of shit he's always been. He was an idiot. He was a fuck up in every way.
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Instance two: Robin
He had barely managed to graduate from high school. It took more effort than he was able to admit but he did it. The fantasy of inheriting his dad's company is long gone, gone with any hope of leaving Hawkins to go to college. He hasn't been kicked out of his parents house, yet, so he was stuck biding his time by working and driving around the kids. He wasn't completely purposeless in life, he couldn't tell if he had been forced or forced himself into taking the role as the kids "protector" but either way he enjoyed it. It made him feel good, calm. Knowing that they were safe and that he was there for them whether it be an interdimensional super evil, or their third scoop of free ice cream.
He tried to ignore the voice deep down, that sounded scarily familiar to his father, that told him they would all leave him eventually. That they were too smart for him, and that they would realize what a fuck up he is and get tired of him.
Speaking of tired, Steve was tired. Ever since he recovered from his fight with Billy it had been like this. Steve would get flashes where he would get slowly engulfed by a steady tired dizziness and he would just kind of doze off In the middle of whatever he was doing. He usually was able to hide it pretty well, but unfortunately he did not have such luck today.
He was standing at the counter in the middle of a rush, it was a Saturday so it was even more packed than normal. Keith had so lovingly decided to only schedule two people to work the whole day. He was pressing the chiming buttons on the cash register, checking out a customer's order, when he felt the waves of disorientation lap over him. His mind numbed a bit, slowing as he looked down to the cash in his hand and furrowed his brow. He felt like his brain was swimming in syrup. When had the cash gotten there again? Was that the customer's change? His thought process was cut off swiftly though.
The flash of a brunette bob flew in front of him, the cash disappearing out of his hand. The quickness of it pulled him back to reality. "-orry about him, always in his own little world heh. Have a terrific day! Come again!" Robin yelled out a little frantic after the customer, before turning on her heels, staring up at him with as much frustration she could muster.
"Hello? Earth to hair? We're in the middle of a rush so I would really appreciate it if you could get your head out of your ass, please and thanks." She ended with a frustrated sing-song tone.
Steve was still recovering from whatever that was, and he looked down meeting Robin's eyes. She must have noticed something he didn't, and her face softened slightly. The sarcastic tone wavered, but was still present in her voice.
"You awake up there dingus? Look a know math wasn't always your strong suit but don't start turning into a complete idiot on me.” She gives him a half-hearted smile, but all he can feel is red hot anger flash over him. His eyebrows scrunch and his dumbfounded frown quickly morphs into a scowl. He shoves past Robin, forgetting the fact that they're in the middle of a rush. He slams the break room door behind him, not realizing his breath is ragged and heaving.
One again his dad's voice is echoing in his head, reminding him how stupid he is. He can't even focus on his job, the only thing keeping him afloat. How stupid is that? Maybe his body is just rejecting his brain. His shoulder slump. The shame and defeat eats at him, but he reflects. It really wasn't Robin's fault, it was his. Him being stupid over something, losing focus for no reason. He cringed remembering how rough he had just been to her, she didn't deserve that.
He quickly rushed back out to the front of house, bumping into Robin as she was about to go into the break room. He catches them both and steadies themselves, the apologies already tumbling out of his mouth.
"I'm sorry Robin, fuck, that was a shitty thing for me to do. I don't know what came over me. I can deal with the rest of this mess out here to make up for it if you want? I'm sorry, again."
Her whole body released any tension she was holding, and her concerned grimace quickly wiped into a sly grin. She let out a breathy chuckle, "Well if you're insisting, I couldn't possibly refuse. And uh.. no worries big guy." She said as she slipped past him, gingerly patting him on the shoulder, disappearing into the break room.
He watched her go, before turning back to the crowd whose attitudes were growing in frustration at the lack of ice cream being served to them. He was quiet for the rest of the day, intent set on focusing as hard as he could. Distant whispers lingered in his head, discouragements from his fathers and his own voice as he slung ice cream to tweeny bop girls and douchebag jocks. He needed to get a grip.
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Instance three: Dustin
Steve didn't know if he was alive or dead, maybe somewhere in between. His face felt like hamburger meat and his head felt like pureed fruit sloshing around in a bowl. His legs were wobbly, he swayed back and forth every couple of seconds, constantly having to steady himself. The world around him kept coming and going in flashes. Neon lights continually disorienting him. The Russians had really fucked him up. Constant torture mixed with "truth serum" as they coined it, was not a good combo. He felt like his whole body was pop-rocks. Someone was talking. Someone. Who was it? He swung his head around. He knew that voice.
Suddenly a hard hand came down on his shoulder. He panicked for a second, then looked down and realized it was just Dustin. He sighed in relief, not only for the fact that it wasn't someone much worse, but also because he looked unharmed. That must've meant Steve did something right. His mouth was moving but his brain took a few seconds to catch up.
"Were gonna go to my house, okay Steve? I already told people to head that way and-" Something terrible, horrible, a feeling was tugging at the back of his mind. He knew Dustin's house meant danger, so they shouldn't go there. Why, though? He wracked what was left of his brain. Then he remembered.
"Uhm.. no- no we can't go there."
"..why not Steve?" Dustin grunted out, like he already knew where this was going. How was the kid so damn smart?
"I uh.. kinda told the Russians your whole name. And address. Probably more."
Dustin's eyes turned into saucers and he gripped onto Steve. "What do you mean?!? Why did you do that?!"
Steve tried to stiffen and become defensive, but his whole body sagged and his eyes felt like they were gonna melt out of his head, draining him of any harsh emotions. "I was drugged man, they injected that uh.. the truth serum. I couldn't help it.”
Dustin grew more agitated. "Thats why you resist Steve! You don't give into that crap! Resist resist resist! Ugh I can't believe you had to go and be such an idiot about this."
Steve knew deep down that Dustin wasn't really mad at him, and in a sober non mince-meat-afied state he could have easily brushed it off as one of his usual jokes, but this time Steve just felt like collapsing on the floor. He wanted to argue, to tell Dustin that he didn't understand what Steve had just gone through. But he didn't want to re-live the experience and scar Dustin with the details. He had no more fight left in him, so he just took it. He let Dustin berate him as they continued to walk through the too-bright mall. He drowned in the embarrassment, the deep shame and disgust he held for himself. It was his job to protect them. He put them all at risk, especially Dustin. He wanted to just lay down and die.
Maybe he could have resisted if he was stronger. If he wasn't such a screw up, if he wasn't so fucking stupid. Maybe they wouldn't be in this situation in the first place. Robin wouldn't have had to be there, Dustin and Erica could've avoided it all, if only Steve had been smarter. But now his mind was chewed bubble gum, his body was made of paper, and everyone he ever cared about was in danger.
He didn't realize they had made it outside until the cold Hawkins air hit him. It was almost funny how the air could be so cold, considering it was summer. He also didn't realize that he had been crying, until the tears were burning his bloodied and raw face. He quickly wiped them away, knowing it wasn't the time. The tears were quickly forgotten though, his mind slotting its focus on the gorgeous car in front of him. Keys were shoved into his hands just as quickly as his bubbling emotions were shoved back into the depths of his mind where they belonged.
It wasn't the time for that, he had to focus on keeping the kids (and now Robin) safe, helping as well as he could manage.
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Instance four: Jonathan
It had been a few months since the battle at Starcourt, and a few months since the Byers packed up and off to California. Him and Robin were able to secure a job at the town's family video, and they were even lucky enough to work most shifts together.
It was hard, but they were all recovering as best as they could. Everyone was sad, broken in some way. Steve noticed it, saw how people's faces fell and bodies shifted when certain subjects came up. He tried to be there as much as he could. He had never been good with words, so instead he just focused on doing physical acts for people. Carrying groceries, giving rides, paying for lunches. He knew it was gonna be a long time before anything was "normal" again, but he could already see so much progress in everyone.
Well, except for himself.
His physical wounds were healed, but he realizes he might be stupider than he thought. He believes that the Russians beat any intelligence that was left right out of him. He was never a thinker, so it wasn't hard to hide most effects it was having on him, but unfortunately there were some things he couldn't hide. He used to have small moments where he would zone out, brief mishaps that could be brushed off or laughed away. But they were becoming more frequent now, they lasted longer and Steve would forget the time passed in which these lapses happened. It was just like blinking.
It was embarrassing when it happened at work, he would just have to laugh it off and say he didn't sleep much last night or whatever shitty excuse he could come up with while trying to hide his embarrassment. It was frustrating when it happened at home, when he would accidentally burn himself because he forgot his hands under a hot water faucet for too long while doing the dishes. It was just customers that this happened around though in public, the only ones that noticed, which he was thankful for. Or so he believed.
It was a normal day, customers drifting in and out, rewinding tapes, laughing at customers check-out history, making snide quips with Robin. Speaking of, they were in the middle of one of their banter sessions. Steve was watching Robin laugh at a joke he made, the way her nose scrunched up and her eyes squeezed almost shut in utter amusement. A second later he blinked, and Robin's face had morphed into one of concern.
"Steve?"
He chuckled, confused. "Yeah? What's up?"
"You uh.. you good over there?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Though I lost you for a second, you went all-” she waved her hands around in the air animatedly “-space cadet again."
Space cadet? He wondered for a moment what that meant- then it clicked. Fuck, he had one of his episodes, didn't he? That's why her facial expressions changed so quickly. How long had he been out for? He felt a flush rise up his neck, as he stammered out an excuse. "I just didn't get enough sleep last night! You know, nightmares."
Robin glared at him, unconvinced. "Nuh uh, you already used that one yesterday. Remember?" Shit, did he? He really couldn't remember. He tried to think of another excuse, a quick quip to distract her and get the conversation rolling out and away from the pit they were stuck in.
"I uh, I don't know then. Sorry"
She looked at him affectionately, but concerned.
"You sure you're okay over there Steve-o? You can't actually think I don't notice that you keep leaving the planet for minutes at a time.. right?"
He honestly did think she didn't notice. He felt guilty, he was already burdening Robin with his general incompetence, now she has to deal with whatever brain issues he was having. He slumped into himself. "No I'm fine, everything's okay. I really just haven't been getting a lot of sleep lately. Staying up late on the phone, y'know." It wasn't a complete lie.
Robin sighed and giggled a little, playfully shoving him back. It was an unspoken thing between them, but she knew. "Okay. Just tell me if something's up, okay dingus?" And Steve nodded. He wanted to laugh at the affectionately given nickname, but it just sunk in his stomach uncomfortably.
Hours had passed and eventually his shift was over. He had dropped Robin back at her house as per usual, and headed home. He watched tv and moseyed around until about twelve am, when he got on the phone. It was a comfortable routine, a memorable one. It was something easy that Steve could commit himself too. Being on the phone had become one of the best parts of his day. He didn't care it kept him up until the early hours of the morning.
Currently he was telling an extravagantly overexaggerated story from the other day.
"I'm being serious! She had over a hundred dollars in fees and she thought slipping me a half used coupon punch card for the pizza shop a couple stores down would make me forgo them! And get this- get this-" he cut himself off though, the familiar feeling of becoming slightly light headed making his vision swim for a moment. He quickly shook it off, re-composing himself, but the person on the other line was silent.
"Steve?" A concerned voice cracked out, half static.
"Yeah?"
"Is everything okay? You were in the middle of a story and then just like- woosh- went away for like five minutes."
He panicked. Five minutes? He was out that long? "Shit I'm sorry Jon, I must just be tired s’all."
The line was quiet, then a soft "hmm" came through. It only half settled his nerves.
"But yeah, where was I? Oh yeah! I was gonna tell you about this girl that came into the store the other day, right?" He laughed out, excited to tell the story.
“Uhuh.. the one about the half used coupon?” The other man guessed, and Steve's mind reeled.
“What? How did you know?”
“Because you just told me, Steve.” His voice wasn't annoyed, it was a mix of concern and something else he couldn't put his finger on. But he wasn't really focusing on his tone, he was focused on how he had forgotten a story he had seemingly told five minutes ago. He felt something creep up on him. Disgust and shame rise in his stomach. He knew he always struggled remembering things in school, but this was different.
“Huh. Sorry I guess uh.. I guess I forgot.” He tried to laugh, but nothing came out. His throat was suffocatingly dry.
The other line sighed affectionately, too sweet almost. “S’alright. Don't mind. People do say dumbness can be an attractive trait in a way, right?” he chuckled out, and on any other night he probably would have been sputtering out a laugh. His face would have been flushed red with the realization that Jonathan had gone out of his way to flirt with him. It was a rare occasion, an occasion he always internally celebrated, but he felt no joy from the statement.
He tried to joke back, to flirt, to do anything. But when he opened his mouth the only thing that came out was a strangled cry he didn't realize he had been holding. But once it escaped, he couldn't stop the flood gates from opening. He could hear the other voice hurriedly asking what was wrong, apologizing, trying to soothe him, but it didn't work. Red hot tears were flowing down his face and he felt suffocated by the mortifying humiliation. He wasn't a crier, he didn't cry. Especially not in front of Jonathan. He was supposed to be the strong one- he was the strong one. He was supposed to be there to make Jonathan feel safe, to give him a place to be open about his feelings. Now he was just hogging up his space, being a bigger burden.
He tried to choke out words, forming broken sentences. “God I- sorry I'm- I don't know what's wrong with me” he let out another loud sob, his body shaking. It was becoming hard to hold the phone. “I'm sorry- sorry. I'm being so dumb right now, I'm uh- I'm gonna go. I'm sorry, goodnight Jon.”
He heard Jonathan try to interrupt, he could tell he was frantic, but he didn't have it in him. He quickly slammed the phone back into the receiver and clunkily slid down against the wall. He sobbed into his hands for what felt like hours. His mind pounded in protest at the strain and onslaught of tears. He really was an idiot, wasn't he? Everyone knew. He couldn't do well in school, he couldn't fight, he couldn't protect the people he cared about, he couldn't even man a cash register with confidence. He only got in the way of himself. His brain was fried beyond saving.
Everyone he knew was so much smarter, so much better than him. They were going to go so far in life. Steve didn't deserve them. He was holding them back, just as he always held himself back. He didn't deserve their concern or sympathy. His condition didn't even warrant pity. He was just plain stupid. An idiot, a screw up, a mess, a dumbass. He was born this way and he would die this way. His father was right, he'd always been right, and Steve couldn't cope.
So for the rest of the night he just sat there. A too-small body curled in on itself in a dark corner of a too-big house. Alone with his messed up brain feeding him all the ways he was an absolute failure. He stayed like that for what could've been an eternity, until his body just shut down from the exhaustion and strain, forcing himself to sleep.
When he woke up the next day, he didn't even really remember what happened the night before. He felt embarrassed and a little sad, but he couldn't place why. So later that night when he got back on the phone with Jonathan, as per routine, neither of them mentioned it.
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Instance one: Boiling Point
Everyone was crowded in The Squawk, they had finally been able to all locate each other and meet up safe and sound after roaming around Hawkins and the Upside Down. There were currently multiple new revelations being brought to light.
1: The upside down isn't a dimension, it's a gateway. 2: At the end of that gateway was the actual alternate dimension 3: in said alternate dimension lived a super-powered evil freak that was keeping kids held captive and 4: they had to figure out a way to destroy said freak and dimension. Safe to say, everyone was freaking out a little bit.
Currently everyone was yelling at one another, arguing over different theories and tactics. Game strategies as to how they could approach the situation were being bounced around like tennis balls. Nobody was in agreement with anyone, and Steve's head was spinning. Maybe it was just too hot, or maybe he just felt too out of place. He wasn't a planner, he was a fighter. He got told to do a job and he got it done.
He tried to focus on people's conversations but they were switching too quickly. He dug as deep into his brain as he could to find a suggestion to pull out, but he was lost. The same creeping feeling was edging closer to him, but before it got the chance to sink its familiar canines into his flesh he heard a snippet of a conversation.
"-we even get up there? It's not like we have some magic beanstalk!" Whoever it was argued feverishly, but finally, something clicked in Steve's brain. A plan, a viable, solid, plan. He felt a rush of giddiness wash over him. It felt like he was drunk again for the first time, and he intended to ride this high as long as he could. He didn't want to make a huge scene, so he tried to play it cool.
"Maybe we don't need a beanstalk." he spoke, but it was quickly drowned out. He cleared his throat, a little louder then.
"Hey! Maybe we don't need a beanstalk!" But it still failed to reach their ears. His patience had grown thin, so without thinking, he yelled.
"WE DON'T NEED A BEANSTALK!" The room fell into a quick silence, eyes fluttering over to where he was standing awkwardly in mass. Shit, okay maybe he should have prepared for this. But he's got this- he's got this. Don't fuck it up. This was his chance to be useful for once. He shuffled for a second before speaking up again.
"I mean, why would we need a magic beanstalk when we already have the perfect thing right in front of us?" He gestured with his hands to the window next to them, trying to get them to realize he was talking about the giant fucking radio tower standing a good fifty feet away from all of them. Alas, confused glances were still sent his way. He huffed, annoyed. Ok, new plan. if he couldn't tell them, he could show them. "Hold on." he grunted, as he turned away to try and find objects that would better help explain his idea.
He settled on a flashlight and a spare slinky they had lying around. He hurriedly turned back around and slammed the objects down on the desk in front of him, which he regretted instantly. The fast turning mixed with his overwhelming excitement caused his vision to blur and swim, melting together for a moment too long.
He had a fleeting moment of thought, embarrassment, knowing that they were all about to witness one of his shut-downs. If this was anywhere else, at any other time, he would maybe feel more ashamed. But this wasn't about him. As long as his plan got across, that's all that mattered. He didn't matter right now. But his vision wasn't clear. He didn't stop and blink only to be met with worried expressions, instead he felt like he switched to the wrong TV channel in his mind as static was blasted into his brain. He could barely react before everything went dark.
When he cracked open his eyes, the first thing he realized was that his body was no longer horizontal, instead it was lying vertical on very comfortable, worn cushions. The next thing he realized how stupidly bright the lights were in this god forsaken radio studio. It took a moment for him to fully come to, he carefully began propping himself up on one elbow- and then there were arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders and his nose was filled with the familiar scent that was Robin's cheap shampoo.
"Steve! You're awake- are you okay? What happened? What did you see? Everyone was so worried- we didn't understand why Vecna suddenly took hold of you of all people, or even how, but thankfully you managed to get out of it!" She was talking a mile a minute, and he was close enough to her face that he could see that she had been crying recently. He shot up immediately and cupped her face, turning her head to make sure she wasn't hurt in any way. While he was carefully inspecting, the words finally caught up to him. He let go and waved his hands in front of him.
"Venca? No! no, no. Nothing happened with him I don't know.. what happened?" Robins face deepened with sadness and worry, he could almost see the cogs that made up her brain churning, attempting to put the puzzle pieces together. He watched her mind work the situation out, and then he saw it in her eyes, the moment the gears all shifted into place. The sadness in her face shifted away, replaced by a more serious gaze. She opened her mouth to speak, but was quickly cut off as Steve was thrown off of his balance due to another body basically falling on top of him from behind.
He soon recognizes the mass as Dustin, as the younger boy wrapped himself around Steve. He was mindlessly blabbering about how worried he was, and how he was going to kill Vecna himself if anything had happened to him. He then saw another figure shift in front of him, moving next to Robin. Jonathan smiled weakly at Steve, and quickly wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him close. He could feel the other boy shaking, and he could hear as he breathed in the smell of Steve's shirt.
"Steve.. did you have one of your moments?" Robin cut in, and Steve internally winced. Shame trickling over him steadily. The moment was ruined. Dustin and Jonathan pulled themselves off of Steve, slotting themselves next to Robin, giving Steve the couch. He sat up, combing his hands though his hair nervously. Moments she called it, and Steve hated it. He hated that whatever this was had happened enough it had to be named, hated that they were all sitting around him when there was a world to save, hated that they were all worried he got possessed by Vecna when it was just him being stupid-
Oh god, they had thought he had gotten possessed. That's why they were so worried, so scared, so sad. They probably thought he was going to die. He reeled, what would they have done? Steve's death would have just added so many more problems- and this little accident probably already has. They most likely had to shift their plan, they had wasted time waiting around for Steve, insanely precious time- he choked on a gasp.
"I'm okay! there's no Vecna!" He shot up, ready to throw himself back into action. Well his brain was, but his body wasn't. He stumbled, only to be caught by Jonathan.
"Steve. Sit down." He commanded, softly. Steve shook his head in protest, another bad choice.
"No- We wasted time already. I'm not worth it, I'll be fine." He tried to reassure the three, but he could tell it wasn't working. He became antsy, and his skin was starting to feel like pop rocks again. "I'm serious guys, I'm okay. I skipped breakfast this morning, so I just got a little dizzy, y'know? I'm sorry for spooking everyone but we really need to-"
"Can you just- stop being an idiot and sit down?" a small, cracked voice blubbered from below him. His gaze shot down to look at Dustin, and he was crying. And to Steve he didn't look seventeen anymore, He didn't look like the beaten down and grief stricken yet amazing young man he was becoming, instead he looked thirteen again. He looked like the kid who he had helped get ready for the snow-ball and who saved him from evil Russians. And this broke something in him. Any wavering resolve, any fight, was sucked out of him with a silly straw. Because in his mind, he had hurt this little kid. He caused this vulnerable and broken kid to cry. He was an idiot. And sobs ripped out of his chest with the force of a shotgun.
He fell backwards onto the couch, sniveling and crying. He was too overwhelmed to even be ashamed, all he could feel was the wetness and snot build up on his sleeves as he desperately tried to wipe it all away. He had scared everyone here so badly, moved them to tears with worry. The three people he cares most about in the world, people he would die for in less than a heartbeat, He hurt them with his idiocy. His sheer stupidity. He couldn't stop the half broken cries to escape.
"I'm so- so sorry. I didn't know- I don't know why I'm like this. I don't know what's wrong with my brain. I can't do it. I cant do anything right. I'm such a massive- stupid fuck up. My dad was right- everyone was right. I'm so sorry.." He whined and hiccupped, heaving in ragged breaths.
"I'm such an idiot- so so stupid. I'm so sorry. I keep trying. I want it to go away, I'm trying. But I can't do it. Nothing works. It's getting worse- I'm getting worse. I can't do anything- anything right. I know what I'm good for, I'm the muscle. I don't plan, I don't think, I'm not smart like you guys. I don't know what I can do anymore. It's gotten so bad and now.. and now.." He felt another round of unintelligible sobs rise in his throat, but before they could make their way out into the world he felt a hand gently cover his mouth. He was thrusted into a death grip by Robin and he could feel her tears on his neck.
She was shaking, and breathing heavily. "Steve-" she croaked "Shut the fuck up. Shut up." So he did. He swallowed back any noise left in him, leaving him to just heave out tremored breaths.
She hesitated to pull away from him, he could tell. Her fingers flexed in his hair unknowingly. But eventually she released him- somewhat. She kept her hands firmly planted on his shoulders, just like his dad had all those years ago. He wondered briefly if she would slap him like he did. She looked at him, pained and empty. Like Steve had personally gutted her from the inside out. Their separation only made way for Dustin to tackle him down again. He was quiet, but he could feel his own shirt dampening where the kid's face was. He lifted his hand, gently stroking his curly mop of hair.
"I.. You aren't stupid Steve." She muttered, looking him dead in the soul.
"Yes I am, can't you see?"
"I can see. Just fucking fine, and all I see is Steve." He didn't understand what she meant, so he just let his gaze linger, intertwined with hers.
"Steve.. you are the most selfless and heroic person I've ever met. You- I can't even explain everything you've done for everyone. You've protected me in ways so much more than physical, you've protected me- protected us, not only from monsters, but from ourselves. I.. I.." He could see her holding back the tears in her eyes. "Even now! Even when you aren't saying anything because I Know you and I know you want to tell me it's okay to cry, you want to tell me you're sorry. But you aren't allowed to. Because I'm sorry"
He tried to protest, but she spoke over him. "I'm supposed to be your best friend. Ever since we worked at that ice cream shop in those shitty uniforms we both complained about too much, I could read you like a book. You aren't a dumb book Steve. And I've read it a thousand times, and I noticed when pages were creased in odd ways or edges were frayed. But I thought I was just well loved. Because how could someone not love you? But I see now it wasn't love. It was neglect. So I'm sorry it took me until the pages were spilling out onto the floor, disconnected from the spine, to realize that."
He didn't know what to make of it all, he understood what she was saying, because it was robin. But at the same time he could quite grasp the concept, again, because it was Robin. Her hand left his shoulder, and instead came up to hold his cheek. The same cheek his father slapped. She caressed it, like it was something special and gentle. He melted. This time the tears streaming down his face weren't burning.
"You aren't stupid, or an idiot, or any other horrible, degrading thing you want to convince yourself you are. And I will keep telling you that until the day I die. And then if I die before you, I'll come back to haunt you and I'll keep saying it. What's happening to you.. The lapses you're having, the moments you lose focus, it's not your fault. The world has been so hard on you, and unfortunately there are permanent marks left on you but-" She choked up for a moment, before swallowing it away "But that doesn't mean you're broken. And that doesn't mean you're worthless. And I'm never- never- going to leave you because of it. Whatever is happening I'm going to be there for you, to help you."
Steve was speechless. He had no rebuttal. He had no argument he could make in protest, and even his fathers looming voice had nothing to comment. Because he hadn't been the one gutting her, she had just gutted him. She had gutted him and then elegantly fileted his body into the most beautiful sushi platter anyone had ever seen. His head sagged in her hands. He let himself believe she was right, because wasn't that so much better than what he had been doing? He reveled in it, swam it it, drank it, let it consume him. And he felt light he was floating for the first time in years instead of drowning.
Maybe it could be true, and he wasn't stupid. He wasn't the version of himself that his destiny decided he was at sixteen and he wasn't what his father called him at seventeen. Right now he is Steve. And there wasn't anything wrong with him- or maybe there was. But that's okay. He could live with himself being a little broken, because he had three people that were okay with putting him back together, with repairing and caulking the cracks when they appeared. Three people that were okay with him.